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<h2> 6 </h2>
<p>Reserving hexameter poetry and Comedy for consideration hereafter, let us
proceed now to the discussion of Tragedy; before doing so, however, we
must gather up the definition resulting from what has been said. A
tragedy, then, is the imitation of an action that is serious and also, as
having magnitude, complete in itself; in language with pleasurable
accessories, each kind brought in separately in the parts of the work; in
a dramatic, not in a narrative form; with incidents arousing pity and
fear, wherewith to accomplish its catharsis of such emotions. Here by
'language with pleasurable accessories' I mean that with rhythm and
harmony or song superadded; and by 'the kinds separately' I mean that some
portions are worked out with verse only, and others in turn with song.</p>
<p>I. As they act the stories, it follows that in the first place the
Spectacle (or stage-appearance of the actors) must be some part of the
whole; and in the second Melody and Diction, these two being the means of
their imitation. Here by 'Diction' I mean merely this, the composition of
the verses; and by 'Melody', what is too completely understood to require
explanation. But further: the subject represented also is an action; and
the action involves agents, who must necessarily have their distinctive
qualities both of character and thought, since it is from these that we
ascribe certain qualities to their actions. There are in the natural order
of things, therefore, two causes, Character and Thought, of their actions,
and consequently of their success or failure in their lives. Now the
action (that which was done) is represented in the play by the Fable or
Plot. The Fable, in our present sense of the term, is simply this, the
combination of the incidents, or things done in the story; whereas
Character is what makes us ascribe certain moral qualities to the agents;
and Thought is shown in all they say when proving a particular point or,
it may be, enunciating a general truth. There are six parts consequently
of every tragedy, as a whole, that is, of such or such quality, viz. a
Fable or Plot, Characters, Diction, Thought, Spectacle and Melody; two of
them arising from the means, one from the manner, and three from the
objects of the dramatic imitation; and there is nothing else besides these
six. Of these, its formative elements, then, not a few of the dramatists
have made due use, as every play, one may say, admits of Spectacle,
Character, Fable, Diction, Melody, and Thought.</p>
<p>II. The most important of the six is the combination of the incidents of
the story.</p>
<p>Tragedy is essentially an imitation not of persons but of action and life,
of happiness and misery. All human happiness or misery takes the form of
action; the end for which we live is a certain kind of activity, not a
quality. Character gives us qualities, but it is in our actions—what
we do—that we are happy or the reverse. In a play accordingly they
do not act in order to portray the Characters; they include the Characters
for the sake of the action. So that it is the action in it, i.e. its Fable
or Plot, that is the end and purpose of the tragedy; and the end is
everywhere the chief thing. Besides this, a tragedy is impossible without
action, but there may be one without Character. The tragedies of most of
the moderns are characterless—a defect common among poets of all
kinds, and with its counterpart in painting in Zeuxis as compared with
Polygnotus; for whereas the latter is strong in character, the work of
Zeuxis is devoid of it. And again: one may string together a series of
characteristic speeches of the utmost finish as regards Diction and
Thought, and yet fail to produce the true tragic effect; but one will have
much better success with a tragedy which, however inferior in these
respects, has a Plot, a combination of incidents, in it. And again: the
most powerful elements of attraction in Tragedy, the Peripeties and
Discoveries, are parts of the Plot. A further proof is in the fact that
beginners succeed earlier with the Diction and Characters than with the
construction of a story; and the same may be said of nearly all the early
dramatists. We maintain, therefore, that the first essential, the life and
soul, so to speak, of Tragedy is the Plot; and that the Characters come
second—compare the parallel in painting, where the most beautiful
colours laid on without order will not give one the same pleasure as a
simple black-and-white sketch of a portrait. We maintain that Tragedy is
primarily an imitation of action, and that it is mainly for the sake of
the action that it imitates the personal agents. Third comes the element
of Thought, i.e. the power of saying whatever can be said, or what is
appropriate to the occasion. This is what, in the speeches in Tragedy,
falls under the arts of Politics and Rhetoric; for the older poets make
their personages discourse like statesmen, and the moderns like
rhetoricians. One must not confuse it with Character. Character in a play
is that which reveals the moral purpose of the agents, i.e. the sort of
thing they seek or avoid, where that is not obvious—hence there is
no room for Character in a speech on a purely indifferent subject.
Thought, on the other hand, is shown in all they say when proving or
disproving some particular point, or enunciating some universal
proposition. Fourth among the literary elements is the Diction of the
personages, i.e. as before explained, the expression of their thoughts in
words, which is practically the same thing with verse as with prose. As
for the two remaining parts, the Melody is the greatest of the pleasurable
accessories of Tragedy. The Spectacle, though an attraction, is the least
artistic of all the parts, and has least to do with the art of poetry. The
tragic effect is quite possible without a public performance and actors;
and besides, the getting-up of the Spectacle is more a matter for the
costumier than the poet.</p>
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<h2> 7 </h2>
<p>Having thus distinguished the parts, let us now consider the proper
construction of the Fable or Plot, as that is at once the first and the
most important thing in Tragedy. We have laid it down that a tragedy is an
imitation of an action that is complete in itself, as a whole of some
magnitude; for a whole may be of no magnitude to speak of. Now a whole is
that which has beginning, middle, and end. A beginning is that which is
not itself necessarily after anything else, and which has naturally
something else after it; an end is that which is naturally after something
itself, either as its necessary or usual consequent, and with nothing else
after it; and a middle, that which is by nature after one thing and has
also another after it. A well-constructed Plot, therefore, cannot either
begin or end at any point one likes; beginning and end in it must be of
the forms just described. Again: to be beautiful, a living creature, and
every whole made up of parts, must not only present a certain order in its
arrangement of parts, but also be of a certain definite magnitude. Beauty
is a matter of size and order, and therefore impossible either (1) in a
very minute creature, since our perception becomes indistinct as it
approaches instantaneity; or (2) in a creature of vast size—one,
say, 1,000 miles long—as in that case, instead of the object being
seen all at once, the unity and wholeness of it is lost to the beholder.</p>
<p>Just in the same way, then, as a beautiful whole made up of parts, or a
beautiful living creature, must be of some size, a size to be taken in by
the eye, so a story or Plot must be of some length, but of a length to be
taken in by the memory. As for the limit of its length, so far as that is
relative to public performances and spectators, it does not fall within
the theory of poetry. If they had to perform a hundred tragedies, they
would be timed by water-clocks, as they are said to have been at one
period. The limit, however, set by the actual nature of the thing is this:
the longer the story, consistently with its being comprehensible as a
whole, the finer it is by reason of its magnitude. As a rough general
formula, 'a length which allows of the hero passing by a series of
probable or necessary stages from misfortune to happiness, or from
happiness to misfortune', may suffice as a limit for the magnitude of the
story.</p>
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<h2> 8 </h2>
<p>The Unity of a Plot does not consist, as some suppose, in its having one
man as its subject. An infinity of things befall that one man, some of
which it is impossible to reduce to unity; and in like manner there are
many actions of one man which cannot be made to form one action. One sees,
therefore, the mistake of all the poets who have written a <i>Heracleid</i>,
a <i>Theseid</i>, or similar poems; they suppose that, because Heracles
was one man, the story also of Heracles must be one story. Homer, however,
evidently understood this point quite well, whether by art or instinct,
just in the same way as he excels the rest in every other respect. In
writing an <i>Odyssey</i>, he did not make the poem cover all that ever
befell his hero—it befell him, for instance, to get wounded on
Parnassus and also to feign madness at the time of the call to arms, but
the two incidents had no probable or necessary connexion with one another—instead
of doing that, he took an action with a Unity of the kind we are
describing as the subject of the <i>Odyssey</i>, as also of the <i>Iliad</i>.
The truth is that, just as in the other imitative arts one imitation is
always of one thing, so in poetry the story, as an imitation of action,
must represent one action, a complete whole, with its several incidents so
closely connected that the transposal or withdrawal of any one of them
will disjoin and dislocate the whole. For that which makes no perceptible
difference by its presence or absence is no real part of the whole.</p>
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