The question may be raised whether the Epic or
Tragic mode of imitation is the higher.
If the more refined art is the higher, and the more refined in every
case is that which appeals to the better sort of audience,
it is quite clear that the art which is all-mimetic is low.
For as if the audience were not quick enough to apprehend without
something being added, the actors perform many movements, like bad
flute-players who roll about if they have to represent the throwing of a quoit,
or pull at the leader of the chorus if they are playing the 'Scylla.'
Now Tragedy is just such an art.
It is what the older actors thought of their successors.
Mynniscus used to call Callippides 'the ape,' because he
thought he overacted his parts; and a similar reputation attached to Pindarus.
As these actors stand to their predecessors, so the whole art of Tragedy
stands, we are told, to the Epic.
The one art, they say, appeals to a refined audience
who do not need gestures; the other, to a lower class.
If, then, it is low, it is evidently the inferior.
Now, in the first place, this censure attaches
not to the poetic but to the actor's art; for it
is possible for a rhapsodist to exaggerate his gestures, as did
Sosistratus, and a singer also, as did Mnasitheus the
Opuntian.
Again, not all movement is to be condemned, any more than
all dancing, but only the movement of low people, which is the criticism
passed on Callippides and in the present day on others, that their women are not like gentlewomen.
Moreover, Tragedy does its work even without help from
the action, just as much as Epic poetry;
for by the mere reading of a play its quality may be seen.
If, then, in all other respects it is higher, this fault, we say, is not
essential to it.
Secondly, Tragedy has all that the Epic has,
and it may even use the Epic metre;
and, besides, it has as no small part music
and spectacle, through which the pleasures are most vividly felt.
Moreover, it has vividness of impression in reading as well as in
representation.
Then, again, Tragedy has the advantage in that the imitation is completed
within narrower limits; for the concentrated effect is more
pleasurable than one which is spread over a long time and so diluted.
What, for example, would be the effect of the Oedipus of Sophocles if it were cast into a form as long as the Iliad?
Once more, the Epic imitation has less unity;
as is shown by this, that any Epic poem will furnish subjects for
several tragedies. Thus if the Epic poet takes a single plot,
either it is set forth so briefly as to appear curtailed, or, if it follows the
custom of the metre, it seems thin and waterish.
I mean when the poem is made up of several actions,
as is the Iliad and Odyssey, which have
many such parts, each of them having a certain magnitude of its own.
Yet these poems are as perfect as possible in structure; each is, in
the highest degree attainable, an imitation of a single action.
If, then, Tragedy is superior to Epic poetry in all these respects,
and, moreover, fulfils its specific function—for it should produce not
any and every kind of pleasure, but the pleasure which has been mentioned—it
is clearly the higher art, as it attains its end more perfectly than the Epic.
This may suffice for our discussion of Tragedy and Epic poetry,
their respective kinds and parts, their number and their differences;
for the causes that make them good or bad; and for the objections of
critics and the answers to them.
Poetics. Aristotle. S. H. Butcher (Translator). London. 1911.
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