Poetics. Aristotle. Theodore Alois Buckley (Translator). London. 1857.
The Poetic of Aristotle (Theodore Alois Buckley) (OCR draft) (English) (Theodore Alois Buckley's English translation, first published in 1850 and represented from the Henry G. Bohn 1857 printing; corrected against a second OCR and aligned to the Kassel reference passage sequence.)
Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.
Poetics
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-483
ἀτεχνότερον:
see on 6, 1450 b 17. In such instances the effect depends too much on the
σκευοποιός (or costumier), and too little on the poet himself.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-484
χορηγίας.
The word has been taken to mean 'adminiculum' (
Valla), 'impendium' (
Paccius), 'choragi opera et sumptus' (
Heinsius), 'suppeditatio aliena' (
Tyrwhitt), 'expensive apparatus' (
Twining,
Hermann), 'apparatus' (
L. and S.), and 'Unterstützung durch äussere Mittel' (
Ueberweg, after
Vahlen,
Beitr. 2 p. 20). This last rendering, which is practically the same as
Tyrwhitt's, is probably right. It aptly points the contrast between the means supplied by the poet himself, and those which are outside his art and have to be furnished by others; and it is also in accordance with
Aristotle's use of
χορηγία and
χορηγεῖν in the
Ethics and
Politics (v.
Bon.
Ind. 852 b 52 and 60). Thus in
Eth. N. 10. 8, 1178 b 24
he says
τῆς ἐκτὸς χορηγίας ἐπὶ μικρὸν ἢ ἐπ᾿ ἔλαττον δεῖται (scil.
ἡ τοῦ νοῦ ἀρετή), and in
1. 11, 1101 a 15
(comp.
10. 9, 1179 a 11
)
τὸν κατ᾿ ἀρετὴν τελείαν ἐνεργοῦντα καὶ τοῖς ἐκτὸς ἀγαθοῖς ἱκανῶς κεχορηγημένον.. More than one, however, of the recent interpreters of the
Poetics seem to have assumed (with
Heinsius) that in a discussion on matters theatrical
χορηγία must be supposed to retain its original theatrical sense, that of the service of a choregus. The answer to this is that we constantly find
Aristotle even in the
Poetics using the technical terms of the theatre in the more general sense they had or had acquired in ordinary language. Instances of this are
ἀγωνίζεσθαι (24, 1460 a 9),
συναγωνίζεσθαι (18, 1456 a 26),
πρωταγωνιστής (4, 1449 a 18),
ἐπεισόδιον (17, 1455 a 23),
ἐπεισοδιοῦν (17, 1455 b 1),
ἐπεισοδιώδης (9, 1451 b 34),
ἀπὸ μηχανῆς (15, 1454 b 2),
ἐκ περιπετείας (16, 1454 b 29),
ὑποκριτικά (20, 1457 a 21). It seems to be agreed too that the duties of the choregus were mainly, if not entirely, with the chorus, and that he had nothing to do with the make-up of the actors (
A. Müller,
Gr. Bühnenalterthümer p. 336).
1453b 14
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-328
14.3
C'est à quoy l'addreſſe du Poëte n'a point de part, cela depend bien plus de ceux qui fourniſſent les decorations &c.]
1
14.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-46
14.3
THOSE WHO PRODUCE WHAT IS MONSTROUS INSTEAD OF WHAT IS TERRIBLE, BY THE REPRESENTATION, HAVE NONE OF THE PROPERTIES OF TRAGEDY.
THE word used by Aristotle here (τεραζώδες) I conceive to apply in this cafe to any thing wonderful and supernatural, or as Metastasio renders it, ' il monftruoso ed il portentoso.' (A) The critic has first mentioned two modes of producing pity and terror; by the apparatus of the theatre, and by the construction of the fable. Yet he not only gives the decided preference to the last, but he even goes so far as to say it is in fact the only mode that can fairly be esteemed the work of the poet, as being capable of producing the proper end of tragedy without the assistance of theatrical representation; while that which depends on the apparatus is almost independent of the poet, and depends chiefly for its effect on the [B) person who furnishes and arranges the decoration of the spectacle. [A] See Mr. Twining's note on this passage, note ci, in which there is much judicious criticifm. [B] The Choragus which I have rendered manager of the theatre' to make it more obvious to the English reader, was the person who furnished the chorus, the actors, the dresses, &c. at his own expence. This mode of bribing the poorer citizens by the rich, was as popular at Athens as feasting them is in Britain. The fame method was followed by the Roman demagogues towards the close of the republic, though generally by the means of a more barbarous
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. spectacle. But he now proceeds to shew, that the very small share the poet could claim of this effect is entirely lost, when the monstrous is exhibited, merely as such, and unconnected with the terrible, since the trifling powers he does possess in this method of exciting the paffions, viz. the pointing out to the perfon who regulates the apparatus, the objects on which he is to exercise his art, are applied to a purpose not at all connected with the proposed end of tragic imitation [c]. What was the power of the ancient theatrical apparatus to produce terror, we can only learn from history. We are told indeed, though perhaps from no very good authority, that in the Eumenides of Æschylus so many furies in horrid forms were brought on the stage, that children were thrown into fits, and pregnant women miscarried. Whatever may be the authority from which we receive this anecdote, it seems by no means improbable. We know the effect that scenes of this kind have over weak minds at the present hour. No one has I believe ever cenfured the behaviour of Partridge at the theatre, as contrary to nature; and a person who will really feel themselves ill by the supposed influence of animal magnetism, may certainly be strongly affected by theatrical horror. We may also allow, that the decoration of the Athenian stage with its masks and its buskins, was as superior to our own in representing these wonderful and supernatural appearances, as I must think it was inferior in imitating the truth and nature of real life. ! ! barous exhibition than the drama; this being afterwards adopted by the emperors on a larger and more expensive scale, had no small share in reconciling the people to the lofs of their influence in the administration of the government.
[c] The reader who wishes to fee an application of this to the modern pantomime, and a very humourous examination of that species of the drama by the rules of Aristotle, is referred to Mr. Twining, note cr. Nn The
The preternatural beings of Shakespear have been praised so often and by so many critics who stand high in the literary world, that it might feem superfluous to say any thing on the subject, did I not confider it as the duty of a writer, profeffing to illustrate the Poetic of Aristotle by modern examples, not to pass over the poet whose excellence in this respect is unrivalled, and is of a different cast from any thing of the kind in the Grecian drama, and that in a circumstance which I do not recollect to have ever seen noticed.
In the production of fupernatural beings by the Greek tragedians, both from the pieces themselves and the judgement of Aristotle, it appears the terror was produced chiefly, if not entirely by the apparatus. We find none of that solemn language which we at once feel, [D] though we hardly know why to be so strictly characteristic of the shadowy speaker. This is so independent of, and so superior to the art of the Choragus, that no theatrical decoration is capable of heightening its effect. What representation can give us such ideas of the ghost of Hamlet as we received from the terrible and pathetic dialogue between that aweful phantom and his fon. Perhaps the effect is stronger in the closet than on the stage. This is certainly the cafe with Macbeth. The witches with their high-crowned hats and broomsticks, might be objects of terror, in the reign of a monarch who wrote a treatise on their art, against which sanguinary laws were not only in existence but put into frequent and severe execution; but to us they are merely objects of ridicule, as having no hold either on our belief, or the faintest traces of [D] The cause of this is examined and investigated as far as it is capable of investigation, by the author of the Effay on the dramatic Character of Falstaff, page 71. our
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. our recollection of fuch belief; and we are at full leisure to laugh at the grotesque figures of the mafculine and bearded women. The Bishop of Worcester in his Letters on Chivalry, mentions the superior horror of the gothic to the ancient superstition, and how much more we are affected by the ghosts and witches of Shakespear, than by the Lemures of antiquity. The fact as to the ghosts, at least with regard to ourselves is indisputable, and I think the reason of it is sufficiently obvious. The fictions of ancient mythology are only matters of amusement to us; but the gothic superstitions have, to most of us, been at one part of our lives the objects of our belief and our terror. For parental care has seldom been able entirely to guard our infancy from the impressions of the nursery. M. Leffing, in his criticism on the Semiramis of Voltaire, introduces so just a comparison between the machinery of Shakespear and Voltaire, that I shall make no apology for inserting it though it is of some length. • Is it never permitted now to admit a ghost on the scene? Is this • source of the terrible, of the pitiable entirely exhausted? By no means; ' that would be too great a loss to the poetic art. Cannot we produce ، many instances where genius confounds all our philosophy by rendering things terrible to the imagination, which to the cool reason would appear perfectly ridiculous? We must reason differently then; perhaps the first principle we argue from is not well-four.ded. "We “ believe no longer in apparitions." Who has faid this? Or rather, • what does it mean when it is said? Does it fignify that we are so far ⚫ enlightened as to be able to demonstrate their impossibility? Are those • incontestable truths which contradict the idea of such prodigies so universally spread, are they always so much in the minds of the people, Nn 2 ' that
، ' that every thing that is repugnant to them must necessarily appear ridiculous and absurd? That can never be the sense of the phrafe. "We believe no longer in apparitions," then can only mean this. On a fubject on which different opinions may be supported, and which never has been and never can be decided, the prevailing opinion of the ، day occasions the balance to preponderate on the negative side : many • individuals are convinced that there are no apparitions, a great many ⚫ more pretend to be convinced, and these harangue on the subject and give and support the fashionable doctrine. But the multitude are filent, they are indifferent on the subject, they sometimes take one fide ⚫ and sometimes the other, they laugh at ghosts in broad day-light, and • liften with trembling avidity at night to the terrible stories that are < told of them [E]. • The disbelief of spectres in this sense neither can nor ought to prevent the use of them in dramatic poetry. We have all in us at least • the feeds of this belief, and they will be found most in the minds of • the people for whom the [F] poet principally composes. It depends ⚫ on his art to make them vegetate, and on his address, in the rapidity of • the moment to give force to the arguments in favor of the reality of ⚫ these phantoms. If he succeeds, we may be at liberty in common • life to believe as we please, but at the theatre he will be the arbiter of our faith.
[E] I am too well convinced of the accuracy of M. Lessing's knowledge of human nature to doubt the truth of this account of German credulity. It would have better suited this country half a century ago than at present. But, even now, there are more people who will feel the truth of it than will own it, even in England.. [F] Especially the dramatic poet. It is faid of Moliere that he used to read all his comedies to an old female servant, and generally found her decisions confirmed by the public. Shakespear
• Shakespear knew this art, and he is almost the only one who ever • did know it. At the appearance of His ghost, in Hamlet, the hair • stands an end, whether it covers the brain of incredulity or supersti- ⚫tion. M. Voltaire was much in the wrong to appeal to this ghost, • which makes both him and his apparition of Ninus ridiculous. The ghoft of Shakespear really comes from the other world, at least it appears so to our feelings : for it arrives in the solemn hour, in the dead • filence of midnight, accompanied by all those gloomy and mysterious ، accessory ideas with which our nurses have taught us to expect the appearance of spectres; while that of Voltaire's is not fit even to terrify a child. It is merely an actor who neither says or does any thing to perfuade us he is what he pretends to be: on the contrary, all the 'circumstances with which it appears, destroy the illusion and betray the • hand of a cold poet who wishes indeed to deceive and terrify us, but • does not know how to go about it. It is in the middle of the day [G], ،
' in the middle of an assembly of the states of the empire, and preceded by a peal of thunder, that the spirit of Ninus makes its appearance from ⚫ the tomb. From whence did Voltaire learn that apparitions were fo • bold? What old woman could not have told him that apparitions were afraid of the light of the fun, and were not fond of visiting large [G] Shakespear knew the confequence of adapting his scenery to his action, in exciting terror by natural as well as supernatural agents. • The sun is in the heaven; and the proud day, • Attended with the pleasures of the world, • Is all too wanton and too full of gawds To give me audience :- if the midnight bell • Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, • Sound one unto the drowzy race of night: If this same were a church-yard where we stand.'- K. JOHN. • affemblies?
'assemblies? Voltaire was undoubtedly acquainted with all this; but ⚫ he was too cautious, too delicate, to make use of such trifling cir- 'cumstances. He was desirous indeed of shewing us a ghost, but he ، was determined it should be one of French extraction, decent, and ' noble. This decency spoiled the whole. A spectre, who takes liber- 'ties contrary to all custom, law, and established order of ghosts, does not seem to me a genuine spectre; and in this case, every thing that does not strengthen the illusion tends to destroy it. 红 • If Voltaire had examined with care, he would have felt the inconveniency, which on another account must attend the bringing a phantom before so many people. On its appearance, all the persons of the assembly (that is to say, all the actors who were representing the ' council of the queen and the states) ought to shew in their counte- ، nances all the terror that the situation required; each ought even to shew it differently from the rest to avoid the cold uniformity of a ballet. How could such a troop of stupid assistants be trained to this exercise? • And when it had fucceeded as well as possible, would not this variety ⚫ of expression of the same sentiment have divided the attention of the spectators, and necessarily have drawn it from the principal characters ? That these may make a strong impression on us, it is not only necessary • that we should fee them, but it is also proper that we should fee nothing else. • In Shakespear, it is only with Hamlet that the ghost converses. In • the scene where the mother is present, the spectre is neither seen or ⚫ heard by her. All our attention then is fixed on him alone; and the ، more we discover in him the signs of a foul distracted by terror and • surprize, the more cause we have to think the apparition which occa- • fions
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. • fions such agitations, as real as he seems to believe it. The [H] ghost ، operates more on us through him, than itself. The impreffion that it • makes on him passes into our minds, and the effect is too sensible and ⚫ too strong for us to doubt of an extraordinary cause. Of this secret, • Voltaire knew little. It is precisely because his spectre tries to ' terrify many people, that it produces little terror in any one. Semi- ⚫ ramis cries out once only, " O, heaven, I die!" and the other assist- ⚫ ants are very little more affected by the shade of Ninus, than they ' would be by the unexpected appearance of a friend, whom they be- ' lieved to be at a distance. • I observe also another difference between the French and English • spectre. The first is only a poetical machine solely employed to [1] • unravel the plot; we take no interest in him. On the contrary, the Not that it was [H] Fielding makes Partridge account for his fear in the fame manner. • the ghost that surprized me neither: for I should have known that to have been only a man • in a strange dress: but when I saw the little man so frightened himself it was that which took < hold of me.' TOM JONES, Book xvr. Chap. v. [1] This intention however is expressly disavowed by Voltaire; and what is rather surprizing, in a paragraph in which he quotes, with approbation, the celebrated rule of Horace, • Nec deus intersit nisi dignus vindice nodus.' • I would have (he fays) these bold attempts never employed, except when they serve at the ' same time to add to the intrigue and the terror of the piece; and I would wish by all means ⚫ that the intervention of these supernatural beings should not appear absolutely necessary. I • will explain myself: if the plot of a tragic poem is so involved in difficulty, that the poet can • only free himself from the embarrassment by the aid of a prodigy, the spectator will perceive • the distress of the author and the weakness of the resource.' DISSERTATION ON TRAGEDY PREFIXED TO SEMIRAMIS. • other
، ، ⚫ other is really an efficient person of the drama, in whose fate we are interested; he excites not only terror, but compaffion also. ، This has probably arisen from the different manner in which these two authors have confidered the general notion of apparitions. Voltaire has regarded the appearance of a dead person as a miracle, and Shakespear as a natural event. Which of the two thought most as a philosopher is a question that we have nothing at all to do with; but the Englishman thought most as a poet.' DRAMATURGIE, Part I. page 39, et seq. ، After all, though there is great truth in much that is here advanced, I do not think an English audience would now endure a ghost from a modern hand, however well executed. That we have still belief in apparitions sufficient for dramatic effect, is obvious from the reception of Shakespear's Ghosts. But we require that the poet should have rather a stronger credulity. This is illustrated by the comparison between the faith of Shakespear and Voltaire in the concluding paragraph of the quotation. Every modern poet must be in the predicament of the 1atter. There is very nearly the fame distinction between the machinery of Homer [K] and Virgil. An instance perhaps of the marvellous pushed too far, may be drawn from Dryden's Edipus. I have read fomewhere, that on the revival of that tragedy, the audience were disgusted with the variety of prodigies, and the ghost of Laius with his numerous attendants. Brumoy, (Vol. I. page 393) speaking of Seneca's Edipus, fays, Creon makes a more [K] See note I, chap. xxiv. ' than
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ⚫ than infernal description of the prodigies he had feen.' And Dryden in the preface to his tragedy, prides himself for bringing that before the audience which Seneca had only described. Perhaps he chose here to enter the lifts with Shakespear. It would have been more conducive to his reputation, if he had recollected his own words in the prologue to his Tempest, where he tried to imitate and add to the machinery of a play, which was in every respect inimitable. • But Shakespear's magic could not copied be; • Within that circle none durst walk but he.' We have lately seen an attempt of the fame kind by a person of the highest eminence in a fister art, whose recent loss is justly an object of national concern. I mean the fiend at the head of the dying Cardinal in the celebrated picture of Sir Joshua Reynolds, in the Shakespear gallery.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-96
Ritter, cap. 14 § 2
τὸ δὲ διὰ τῆς ὄψεως τοῦτο παρασκευά - ζειν ἀτεχνότερον καὶ χορηγίας δεόμενόν ἐστιν: non dedit
ἀγῶνος καὶ ὑποκριτῶν, neque dare id potuit, quia fabulam legendam et spectandam secum componere non voluit, sed eam quae molesto ac pretioso apparatu indiget coniunxit cum ea quae illo adeo non eget, ut audire res eius argumento consertas sufficiat. itaque posuit
χορηγίας δεό μενον, non
ἀγῶνος καὶ ὑποκριτῶν: choragia enim cum in fabula agenda magni pretii constaret, cumque a chorago ad orchestram condecorandam et ad chorum conducendum, instituendum, ornandum multo maiores impensae faciendae essent, quam a civitate ad scenam instruendam et actores conducendos,
χορηγίαν generatim pro pretioso et operoso apparatu et apte dici posse et eo intellectu h. 1. accipiendam esse manifestum est. - ceterum lectori animum attendenti liquebit scriptorem personatum, quem c. 6, 19. deprehendimus, ex hoc loco sapientiam suam hausisse, sed eundem auctoris sui sententiam non recte accepisse. Aristoteles enim dicit, si quis ad excitandam miserationem et timorem nimium miserando quodam personarum agentium habitu tristique condicione oculis exposita utatur, id esse
ἀτεχνότερον καὶ χορηγίας δεόμενον. hoc sane prudenter et modice dictum. quid inde imitator fecit? is omnem modum excedens, ut solent imitatores exaggerare, pronuntiavit (c. 6, 19) totam
ὄψιν, h. e. totam actionem oculis excipiendam,
ἀτεχνότατον esse ac minime propriam artis poeticae, et hoc dicere sustinuit, quamvis verus Aristoteles paulo ante (c. 6, 4) monuisset
ὄψιν esse necessariam tragoediae partem.
ἀλλὰ τὸ τερατῶδες μόνον: qui nonnisi miras imagines, ad praestringendos scilicet spectantium oculos, con sectantur, veluti Gigantes et Titanes et Cyclopes, vel insolitos casus, ut sereno caelo fulminum fulgores et tonitruum fragores, illi ad delectandos spectatores non tragoediae vi utuntur, sed artificia quaedam adhibent quae ab arte tragica plane aliena videntur. ex eiusmodi fabulis licet voluptatem aliquam percipiamus, ea tamen non ex ipsa tragoedia manavit: delectatio enim tragoediae propria proficiscitur a miseratione et timore.