With respect to critical difficulties and their solu-
tions, the number and nature of the sources from which
they may be drawn may be thus exhibited.
The poet being an imitator, like a painter or any
other artist, must of necessity imitate one of three
objects, things as they were or are, things as they are
said or thought to be, or things as they ought to be.
The vehicle of expression is language, either current
terms or, it may be, rare words or metaphors.
There
are also many modifications of language, which we
concede to the poets.
Add to this, that the standard of
correctness is not the same in poetry and politics, any
more than in poetry and any other art.
Within the art of
poetry itself there are two kinds of faults, those
which touch its essence, and those which are accidental.
If a poet has chosen to imitate something,
imitated it incorrectly> through want of capacity, the
error is inherent in the poetry.
But if the failure is
due to a wrong choice—if he has represented a horse
as throwing out both his off legs at once, or introduced
technical inaccuracies in medicine, for example, or in
any other art—the error is not essential to the poetry.
These are the points of view from which we should
consider and answer the objections raised by the
critics.
First as to matters which concern the poet's own
art.
If he describes the impossible, he is guilty of
an error;
but the error may be justified, if the end
of the art be thereby attained (the end being that
already mentioned),—if, that is, the effect of this or
any other part of the poem is thus rendered more
striking.
A case in point is the pursuit of Hector.
If, however, the end might have been as well, or
better, attained without violating the special rules of the
poetic art, the error is not justified: for every kind of
error should, if possible, be avoided.
Again, does the error touch the essentials of the
poetic art, or some accident of it?
For example, not
to know that a hind has no horns is a less serious matter
than to paint it inartistically.
Further, if it be objected that the description is not
true to fact, the poet may perhaps reply,—'But the
objects are as they ought to be': just as Sophocles said
that he drew men as they ought to be;
Euripides, as
they are. In this way the objection may be met.
If,
however, the representation be of neither kind, the poet
may answer,—'This is how men say the thing is.'
This
applies to tales about the gods.
It may well be that
these stories are not higher than fact nor yet true to
fact: they are, very possibly, what Xenophanes says of
them. But anyhow, 'this is what is said.'
Again, a
description may be no better than the fact: 'still, it was
the fact';
as in the passage about the arms: 'Upright
upon their butt-ends stood the spears.'
This was the
custom then, as it now is among the Illyrians.
Again, in examining whether what has been said or
done by some one is poetically right or not, we must
not look merely to the particular act or saying, and ask
whether it is poetically good or bad.
We must also con-
sider by whom it is said or done, to whom, when, by
what means, or for what end;
whether, for instance, it
be to secure a greater good, or avert a greater evil.
Other difficulties may be resolved by due regard to
the usage of language.
We may note a rare word, as in
οὐρῆας μὲν πρῶτον, where the poet perhaps employs
οὐρῆας not in the sense of mules, but of sentinels.
So,
again, of Dolon: 'ill-favoured indeed he was to look upon.'
It is not meant that his body was ill-shaped, but that his
face was ugly;
for the Cretans use
the word εὐειδές,
'well-favoured,' to denote a fair face.
Again, ζωρότερον
δὲ κέραιε, 'mix the drink livelier,' does not mean 'mix
it stronger' as for hard drinkers, but 'mix it quicker.'
Sometimes an expression is metaphorical, as 'Now all
gods and men were sleeping through the night,'—while at
the same time the poet says: 'Often indeed as he turned
his gaze to the Trojan plain, he marvelled at the sound
of flutes and pipes.'
'All' is here used metaphorically
for 'many,' all being a species of many.
So in the
verse, 'alone she hath no part..,' οἴη, 'alone,' is
metaphorical;
for the best known may be called the
only one.
Again, the solution may depend upon accent or
breathing.
Thus Hippias of Thasos solved the difficulties
in the lines,—δίδομεν (διδόμεν) δέ οἱ, and τὸ μὲν οὗ (οὐ)
καταπύθεται ὄμβρῳ.
Or again, the question may be solved by punctuation,
as in Empedocles, 'Of a sudden things became mortal
that before had learnt to be immortal, and things un-
mixed before mixed.'
Or again, by ambiguity of meaning, ας παρῴχηκεν δὲ πλέω νύξ, where the word πλέω
is ambiguous.
Or by the usage of language.
Thus any mixed
drink is called οἶνος, 'wine.'
Hence Ganymede is said
'to pour the wine to Zeus,' though the gods do not
drink wine.
So too workers in iron are called χαλκέας,
or workers in bronze.
This, however, may also be taken
as a metaphor.
Again, when a word seems to involve some incon-
sistency of meaning, we should consider how many
senses it may bear in the particular passage.
For
example: 'there was stayed the spear of bronze'—we
should ask in how many ways we may take 'being
checked there.'
The true mode of interpretation is the
precise opposite of what Glaucon mentions.
Critics, he
says, jump at certain groundless conclusions; they pass
adverse judgment and then proceed to reason on it;
and,
assuming that the poet has said whatever they happen
to think, find fault if a thing is inconsistent with their
own fancy.
The question about Icarius has been treated
in this fashion. The critics imagine he was a Lacedae-
monian.
They think it strange, therefore, that Tele-
machus should not have met him when he went to
Lacedaemon.
But the Cephallenian story may perhaps
be the true one.
They allege that Odysseus took a wife
from among themselves, and that her father was Icadius
not Icarius.
It is merely a mistake, then, that gives
plausibility to the objection.
In general, the impossible must be justified by
reference to artistic requirements, or to the higher
reality, or to received opinion.
With respect to the
requirements of art, a probable impossibility is to be
preferred to a thing improbable and yet possible.
Again,
it may be impossible that there should be men such as
Zeuxis painted.
'Yes,' we say, 'but the impossible is
the higher thing; for the ideal type must surpass the
reality.'
To justify the irrational, we appeal to what is
commonly said to be.
In addition to which, we urge
that the irrational sometimes does not violate reason;
just as 'it is probable that a thing may happen contrary
to probability.'
Things that sound contradictory should be examined
by the same rules as in dialectical refutation—whether
the same thing is meant, in the same relation, and in the
same sense.
We should therefore solve the question by
reference to what the poet says himself, or to what is
tacitly assumed by a person of intelligence.
The element of the irrational, and, similarly, depravity
of character, are justly censured when there is no inner
necessity for introducing them.
Such is the irrational
element in the introduction of Aegeus by Euripides and
the badness of Menelaus in the Orestes.
Thus, there are five sources from which critical
objections are drawn.
Things are censured either as
impossible, or irrational, or morally hurtful, or contra-
dictory, or contrary to artistic correctness.
The answers
should be sought under the twelve heads above mentioned.
Poetics. Aristotle. S. H. Butcher (Translator). London. 1911.
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