'I came to find my son, and I lose my own life.' So too in the
Phineidae: the women, on seeing the place, inferred their fate-
'Here we are doomed to die, for here we were cast forth.' Again, there
is a composite kind of recognition involving false inference on the
part of one of the characters, as in the Odysseus Disguised as a
Messenger. A said [that no one else was able to bend the bow; ...
hence B (the disguised Odysseus) imagined that A would] recognize
the bow which, in fact, he had not seen; and to bring about a
recognition by this means- the expectation that A would recognize
the bow- is false inference.
But, of all recognitions, the best is that which arises from the
incidents themselves, where the startling discovery is made by natural
means. Such is that in the Oedipus of Sophocles, and in the Iphigenia;
for it was natural that Iphigenia should wish to dispatch a letter.
These recognitions alone dispense with the artificial aid of tokens or
amulets. Next come the recognitions by process of reasoning.
POETICS|17
XVII
In constructing the plot and working it out with the proper diction,
the poet should place the scene, as far as possible, before his
eyes. In this way, seeing everything with the utmost vividness, as
if he were a spectator of the action, he will discover what is in
keeping with it, and be most unlikely to overlook inconsistencies. The
need of such a rule is shown by the fault found in Carcinus.
Amphiaraus was on his way from the temple. This fact escaped the
observation of one who did not see the situation. On the stage,
however, the Piece failed, the audience being offended at the
oversight.
Again, the poet should work out his play, to the best of his
power, with appropriate gestures; for those who feel emotion are
most convincing through natural sympathy with the characters they
represent; and one who is agitated storms, one who is angry rages,
with the most lifelike reality. Hence poetry implies either a happy
gift of nature or a strain of madness. In the one case a man can
take the mould of any character; in the other, he is lifted out of his
proper self.
As for the story, whether the poet takes it ready made or constructs
it for himself, he should first sketch its general outline, and then
fill in the episodes and amplify in detail. The general plan may be
illustrated by the Iphigenia. A young girl is sacrificed; she
disappears mysteriously from the eyes of those who sacrificed her; she
is transported to another country, where the custom is to offer up
an strangers to the goddess. To this ministry she is appointed. Some
time later her own brother chances to arrive. The fact that the oracle
for some reason ordered him to go there, is outside the general plan
of the play. The purpose, again, of his coming is outside the action
proper. However, he comes, he is seized, and, when on the point of
being sacrificed, reveals who he is. The mode of recognition may be
either that of Euripides or of Polyidus, in whose play he exclaims
very naturally: 'So it was not my sister only, but I too, who was
doomed to be sacrificed'; and by that remark he is saved.
After this, the names being once given, it remains to fill in the
episodes. We must see that they are relevant to the action. In the
case of Orestes, for example, there is the madness which led to his
capture, and his deliverance by means of the purificatory rite. In the
drama, the episodes are short, but it is these that give extension
to Epic poetry. Thus the story of the Odyssey can be stated briefly. A
certain man is absent from home for many years; he is jealously
watched by Poseidon, and left desolate. Meanwhile his home is in a
wretched plight- suitors are wasting his substance and plotting
against his son. At length, tempest-tost, he himself arrives; he makes
certain persons acquainted with him; he attacks the suitors with his
own hand, and is himself preserved while he destroys them. This is the
essence of the plot; the rest is episode.
POETICS|18
XVIII
Every tragedy falls into two parts- Complication and Unraveling
or Denouement. Incidents extraneous to the action are frequently
combined with a portion of the action proper, to form the
Complication; the rest is the Unraveling. By the Complication I mean
all that extends from the beginning of the action to the part which
marks the turning-point to good or bad fortune. The Unraveling is that
which extends from the beginning of the change to the end. Thus, in
the Lynceus of Theodectes, the Complication consists of the
incidents presupposed in the drama, the seizure of the child, and then
again ... [the Unraveling] extends from the accusation of murder to
the end.
There are four kinds of Tragedy: the Complex, depending entirely
on Reversal of the Situation and Recognition; the Pathetic (where
the motive is passion)- such as the tragedies on Ajax and Ixion; the
Ethical (where the motives are ethical)- such as the Phthiotides and
the Peleus. The fourth kind is the Simple. [We here exclude the purely
spectacular element], exemplified by the Phorcides, the Prometheus,
and scenes laid in Hades. The poet should endeavor, if possible, to
combine all poetic elements; or failing that, the greatest number
and those the most important; the more so, in face of the caviling
criticism of the day. For whereas there have hitherto been good poets,
each in his own branch, the critics now expect one man to surpass
all others in their several lines of excellence.
In speaking of a tragedy as the same or different, the best test
to take is the plot. Identity exists where the Complication and
Unraveling are the same. Many poets tie the knot well, but unravel
it Both arts, however, should always be mastered.
Again, the poet should remember what has been often said, and not
make an Epic structure into a tragedy- by an Epic structure I mean one
with a multiplicity of plots- as if, for instance, you were to make
a tragedy out of the entire story of the Iliad. In the Epic poem,
owing to its length, each part assumes its proper magnitude. In the
drama the result is far from answering to the poet's expectation.
The proof is that the poets who have dramatized the whole story of the
Fall of Troy, instead of selecting portions, like Euripides; or who
have taken the whole tale of Niobe, and not a part of her story,
like Aeschylus, either fail utterly or meet with poor success on the
stage. Even Agathon has been known to fail from this one defect. In
his Reversals of the Situation, however, he shows a marvelous skill in
the effort to hit the popular taste- to produce a tragic effect that
satisfies the moral sense. This effect is produced when the clever
rogue, like Sisyphus, is outwitted, or the brave villain defeated.
Such an event is probable in Agathon's sense of the word: 'is
probable,' he says, 'that many things should happen contrary to
probability.'
The Chorus too should be regarded as one of the actors; it should be
an integral part of the whole, and share in the action, in the
manner not of Euripides but of Sophocles. As for the later poets,
their choral songs pertain as little to the subject of the piece as to
that of any other tragedy. They are, therefore, sung as mere
interludes- a practice first begun by Agathon. Yet what difference
is there between introducing such choral interludes, and
transferring a speech, or even a whole act, from one play to another.
POETICS|19
XIX
It remains to speak of Diction and Thought, the other parts of
Tragedy having been already discussed. concerning Thought, we may
assume what is said in the Rhetoric, to which inquiry the subject more
strictly belongs. Under Thought is included every effect which has
to be produced by speech, the subdivisions being: proof and
refutation; the excitation of the feelings, such as pity, fear, anger,
and the like; the suggestion of importance or its opposite. Now, it is
evident that the dramatic incidents must be treated from the same
points of view as the dramatic speeches, when the object is to evoke
the sense of pity, fear, importance, or probability. The only
difference is that the incidents should speak for themselves without
verbal exposition; while effects aimed at in should be produced by the
speaker, and as a result of the speech. For what were the business
of a speaker, if the Thought were revealed quite apart from what he
says?
Next, as regards Diction. One branch of the inquiry treats of the
Modes of Utterance. But this province of knowledge belongs to the
art of Delivery and to the masters of that science. It includes, for
instance- what is a command, a prayer, a statement, a threat, a
question, an answer, and so forth. To know or not to know these things
involves no serious censure upon the poet's art. For who can admit the
fault imputed to Homer by Protagoras- that in the words, 'Sing,
goddess, of the wrath, he gives a command under the idea that he
utters a prayer? For to tell some one to do a thing or not to do it
is, he says, a command. We may, therefore, pass this over as an
inquiry that belongs to another art, not to poetry.
POETICS|20
XX
Language in general includes the following parts: Letter,
Syllable, Connecting Word, Noun, Verb, Inflection or Case, Sentence or
Phrase.
A Letter is an indivisible sound, yet not every such sound, but only
one which can form part of a group of sounds. For even brutes utter
indivisible sounds, none of which I call a letter. The sound I mean
may be either a vowel, a semivowel, or a mute. A vowel is that which
without impact of tongue or lip has an audible sound. A semivowel that
which with such impact has an audible sound, as S and R. A mute,
that which with such impact has by itself no sound, but joined to a
vowel sound becomes audible, as G and D. These are distinguished
according to the form assumed by the mouth and the place where they
are produced; according as they are aspirated or smooth, long or
short; as they are acute, grave, or of an intermediate tone; which
inquiry belongs in detail to the writers on meter.
A Syllable is a nonsignificant sound, composed of a mute and a
vowel: for GR without A is a syllable, as also with A- GRA. But the
investigation of these differences belongs also to metrical science.
A Connecting Word is a nonsignificant sound, which neither causes
nor hinders the union of many sounds into one significant sound; it
may be placed at either end or in the middle of a sentence. Or, a
nonsignificant sound, which out of several sounds, each of them
significant, is capable of forming one significant sound- as amphi,
peri, and the like. Or, a nonsignificant sound, which marks the
beginning, end, or division of a sentence; such, however, that it
cannot correctly stand by itself at the beginning of a sentence- as
men, etoi, de.
A Noun is a composite significant sound, not marking time, of
which no part is in itself significant: for in double or compound
words we do not employ the separate parts as if each were in itself
significant. Thus in Theodorus, 'god-given,' the doron or 'gift' is
not in itself significant.
A Verb is a composite significant sound, marking time, in which,
as in the noun, no part is in itself significant. For 'man' or 'white'
does not express the idea of 'when'; but 'he walks' or 'he has walked'
does connote time, present or past.
Inflection belongs both to the noun and verb, and expresses either
the relation 'of,' 'to,' or the like; or that of number, whether one
or many, as 'man' or 'men'; or the modes or tones in actual
delivery, e.g., a question or a command. 'Did he go?' and 'go' are
verbal inflections of this kind.
A Sentence or Phrase is a composite significant sound, some at least
of whose parts are in themselves significant; for not every such group
of words consists of verbs and nouns- 'the definition of man,' for
example- but it may dispense even with the verb. Still it will
always have some significant part, as 'in walking,' or 'Cleon son of
Cleon.' A sentence or phrase may form a unity in two ways- either as
signifying one thing, or as consisting of several parts linked
together. Thus the Iliad is one by the linking together of parts,
the definition of man by the unity of the thing signified.
POETICS|21
XXI
Words are of two kinds, simple and double. By simple I mean those
composed of nonsignificant elements, such as ge, 'earth.' By double or
compound, those composed either of a significant and nonsignificant
element (though within the whole word no element is significant), or
of elements that are both significant. A word may likewise be
triple, quadruple, or multiple in form, like so many Massilian
expressions, e.g., 'Hermo-caico-xanthus [who prayed to Father Zeus].'
Every word is either current, or strange, or metaphorical, or
ornamental, or newly-coined, or lengthened, or contracted, or altered.
By a current or proper word I mean one which is in general use among
a people; by a strange word, one which is in use in another country.
Plainly, therefore, the same word may be at once strange and
current, but not in relation to the same people. The word sigynon,
'lance,' is to the Cyprians a current term but to us a strange one.
Metaphor is the application of an alien name by transference
either from genus to species, or from species to genus, or from
species to species, or by analogy, that is, proportion. Thus from
genus to species, as: 'There lies my ship'; for lying at anchor is a
species of lying. From species to genus, as: 'Verily ten thousand
noble deeds hath Odysseus wrought'; for ten thousand is a species of
large number, and is here used for a large number generally. From
species to species, as: 'With blade of bronze drew away the life,' and
