The tragic fear and pity may be aroused by the Spectacle;
but they may also be aroused by the very structure and
incidents of the play—which is the better way and shows
the better poet.
The Plot in fact should be so framed
that, even without seeing the things take place, he who
simply hears the account of them shall be filled with horror
and pity at the incidents; which is just the effect that the
mere recital of the story in Oedipus would have on one.
To produce this same effect by means of the Spectacle is
less artistic, and requires extraneous aid.
Those, however,
who make use of the Spectacle to put before us that
which is merely monstrous and not productive of fear, are
wholly out of touch with Tragedy; not every kind of
pleasure should be required of a tragedy, but only its own
proper pleasure.
The tragic pleasure is that of pity and
fear, and the poet has to produce it by a work of imitation;
it is clear, therefore, that the causes should be included in
the incidents of his story.
Let us see, then, what kinds of
incident strike one as horrible, or rather as piteous.
In a
deed of this description the parties must necessarily be either
friends, or enemies, or indifferent to one another.
enemy does it on enemy, there is nothing to move us to
pity either in his doing or in his meditating the deed, except
so far as the actual pain of the sufferer is concerned;
and
the same is true when the parties are indifferent to one
another.
Whenever the tragic deed, however, is done within
the family—when murder or the like is done or meditated
by brother on brother, by son on father, by mother on son,
or son on mother—these are the situations the poet should
seek after.
The traditional stories, accordingly, must be
kept as they are, e.g. the murder of Clytaemnestra by
Orestes and of Eriphyle by Alcmeon.
At the same time
even with these there is something left to the poet himself;
it is for him to devise the right way of treating them.
Let
us explain more clearly what we mean by 'the right way.'
The deed of horror may be done by the doer knowingly
and consciously, as in the old poets, and in Medea's murder
of her children in Euripides.
Or he may do it, but in
ignorance of his relationship, and discover that afterwards,
as does the Oedipus in Sophocles. Here the deed is outside
the play; but it may be within it, like the act of the Alcmeon
in Astydamas, or that of the Telegonus in Ulysses Wounded.
A third possibility is for one meditating some deadly
injury to another, in ignorance of his relationship, to make
the discovery in time to draw back.
These exhaust the
possibilities, since the deed must necessarily be either done
or not done, and either knowingly or unknowingly.
The worst situation is when the personage is with full
knowledge on the point of doing the deed, and leaves it
undone. It is odious and also (through the absence of
suffering) untragic;
hence it is that no one is made to
act thus except in some few instances, e. g. Haemon and
Creon in Antigone.
Next after this comes the actual per-
petration of the deed meditated.
A better situation than
that, however, is for the deed to be done in ignorance,
and the relationship discovered afterwards, since there is
nothing odious in it, and the Discovery will serve to
astound us.
But the best of all is the last; what we have
in Cresphontes, for example, where Merope, on the point
of slaying her son, recognizes him in time; in Iphigenia,
where sister and brother are in a like position; and in
Helle, where the son recognizes his mother, when on the
point of giving her up to her enemy.
This will explain why
our tragedies are restricted (as we said just now) to such
a small number of families. It was accident rather than art
that led the poets in quest of subjects to embody this kind
of incident in their Plots. They are still obliged, accordingly,
to have recourse to the families in which such horrors have
occurred.
On the construction of the Plot, and the kind of Plot
required for Tragedy, enough has now been said.
Poetics. Aristotle. Ingram Bywater (Translator), ed. Gilbert Murray. Oxford. 1909.