II. Besides this, Epic poetry must divide into the same
species as Tragedy;
it must be either simple or complex,
a story of character or one of suffering.
with the exception of Song and Spectacle, must be the
same, as it requires Peripeties, Discoveries, and scenes of
suffering just like Tragedy.
Lastly, the Thought and Diction
in it must be good in their way.
in Homer first; and he has made due use of them. His
two poems are each examples of construction, the Iliad
simple and a story of suffering, the Odyssey complex (there
is Discovery throughout it) and a story of character. And
they are more than this, since in Diction and Thought too
they surpass all other poems.
There is, however, a difference in the Epic as compared
with Tragedy, (1) in its length, and (2) in its metre.
(1) As
to its length, the limit already suggested will suffice: it must
be possible for the beginning and end of the work to be
taken in in one view—a condition which will be fulfilled
if the poem be shorter than the old epics, and about as
long as the series of tragedies offered for one hearing.
For the extension of its length epic poetry has a special
advantage, of which it makes large use. In a play one
cannot represent an action with a number of parts going
on simultaneously; one is limited to the part on the stage
and connected with the actors. Whereas in epic poetry
the narrative form makes it possible for one to describe
a number of simultaneous incidents; and these, if germane
to the subject, increase the body of the poem.
This then
is a gain to the Epic, tending to give it grandeur, and also
variety of interest and room for episodes of diverse kinds.
Uniformity of incident by the satiety it soon creates is apt
to ruin tragedies on the stage.
(2) As for its metre, the
heroic has been assigned it from experience;
were any one
to attempt a narrative poem in some one, or in several, of
the other metres, the incongruity of the thing would be
apparent.
of metres—which is what makes it more tolerant than the
rest of strange words and metaphors, that also being a point
in which the narrative form of poetry goes beyond all others.
The iambic and trochaic, on the other hand, are metres of
movement, the one representing that of life and action,
the other that of the dance.
Still more unnatural would it
appear, if one were to write an epic in a medley of metres,
as Chaeremon did.
Hence it is that no one has ever written
a long story in any but heroic verse; nature herself, as we
have said, teaches us to select the metre appropriate to such
a story.
Homer, admirable as he is in every other respect, is
especially so in this, that he alone among epic poets is not
unaware of the part to be played by the poet himself in
the poem.
The poet should say very little in propria persona,
as he is no imitator when doing that. Whereas the other
poets are perpetually coming forward in person, and say but
little, and that only here and there, as imitators, Homer after
a brief preface brings in forthwith a man, a woman, or some
other Character—no one of them characterless, but each
with distinctive characteristics.
The marvellous is certainly required in Tragedy. The
Epic, however, affords more opening for the improbable,
the chief factor in the marvellous, because in it the agents
are not visibly before one.
The scene of the pursuit of
Hector would be ridiculous on the stage—the Greeks halting
instead of pursuing him, and Achilles shaking his head to
stop them; but in the poem the absurdity is overlooked.
The marvellous, however, is a cause of pleasure, as is shown
by the fact that we all tell a story with additions, in the
belief that we are doing our hearers a pleasure.
Homer more than any other has taught the rest of us the
art of framing lies in the right way. I mean the use of
paralogism. Whenever, if A is or happens, a consequent, B,
is or happens, men's notion is that, if the B is, the A also is
—but that is a false conclusion. Accordingly, if A is untrue,
but there is something else, B, that on the assumption of its
truth follows as its consequent, the right thing then is to add
on the B. Just because we know the truth of the conse-
quent, we are in our own minds led on to the erroneous
inference of the truth of the antecedent. Here is an instance,
from the Bath-story in the Odyssey.
A likely impossibility is always preferable to an uncon-
vincing possibility.
The story should never be made up of
improbable incidents; there should be nothing of the sort
in it. If, however, such incidents are unavoidable, they
should be outside the piece, like the hero's ignorance in
Oedipus of the circumstances of Laius' death; not within it,
like the report of the Pythian games in Electra, or the man's
having come to Mysia from Tegea without uttering a word
on the way, in The Mysians.
So that it is ridiculous to say
that one's Plot would have been spoilt without them, since
it is fundamentally wrong to make up such Plots. If the
poet has taken such a Plot, however, and one sees that he
might have put it in a more probable form, he is guilty of
absurdity as well as a fault of art.
Even in the Odyssey
the improbabilities in the setting-ashore of Ulysses would be
clearly intolerable in the hands of an inferior poet. As it
is, the poet conceals them, his other excellences veiling
their absurdity.
Elaborate Diction, however, is required
only in places where there is no action, and no Character
or Thought to be revealed. Where there is Character or
Thought, on the other hand, an over-ornate Diction tends to
obscure them.
Poetics. Aristotle. Ingram Bywater (Translator), ed. Gilbert Murray. Oxford. 1909.