Sunday, April 13, 2014

The Poetics

So as I mentioned, I've been reading the Butcher translation of Aristotle's Poetics. As one might expect, it's rather dry. For all that, though, it's quite interesting, and is, so far as I know, the earliest preserved systematic account of the subject.

Aristotle begins with a bit of taxonomy. Poetry is a type of imitation, and includes as its subspecies "Epic poetry and Tragedy, Comedy also and Dithyrambic poetry, and the music of the flute and of the lyre in most of their forms." After building out the taxonomies a bit, things get interesting.

There are, apparently, two basic "drives" that result in our poetic tendencies: Our natural inclination toward imitation, and our corresponding inclination toward harmony and rhythm. There's a bit more interest in the first part, since Aristotle (plausibly) thinks that imitation is a primary vehicle of learning. The fact of our enjoyment of poetry, on this account, is at least related to our enjoyment of learning, and in particular, of recognition.

This is, of course, highly reminiscent of Plato's criticisms in Republic II-III. Plato doesn't deny that people learn from poetry; his critique rather relies on it. The problem is that they (often) learn the wrong lessons, and in particular, they learn that gods are frivolous and men ignoble; that being, say, a general, amounts to little more than, e.g. giving grand speeches. It's rather that the spectacle of the stage distracts them from the actual practices that serve as the objects of imitation.

But back to Aristotle. The first pass at defining tragedy comes in Chapter VI:

Tragedy, then, is an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude; in language embellished with each kind of artistic ornament, the several kinds being found in separate parts of the play; in the form of action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these emotions. By 'language embellished,' I mean language into which rhythm, 'harmony' and song enter. By 'the several kinds in separate parts,' I mean, that some parts are rendered through the medium of verse alone, others again with the aid of song. 
I'm reminded, reviewing his definition and immediate discussion of it, of the tremendous value of Aristotle's method. He begins by defining a domain (imitation), then discussing its variations, finally narrowing in on tragedy and its essential characteristics (in this case, the imitation of action concerning characters of a higher type, and goes on to identify a specific purpose: the proper "purgation" of pity and fear. The Greek for "purgation" is κάθαρσις. The term has ritual connotations, denoting purification from pollutants.

I've never been very satisfied with the discussions of this term, since they seem to imply (implausibly) that fear and pity are being treated as analogues to pollution or disease, and that the artist's aim should therefore be to give people a platform for the expression of these emotions. There's something compelling about this, to be sure, since pity and fear involve negative judgments, and insofar as they are harbored without avenues of expression, can develop into forms of psychological trauma. That said, I suspect that this, falling quickly on the heels of a discussion of the value of imitation for learning, implies no more than that aim of tragedy is to teach people the proper expression of pity and fear, not simply by provoking (or eliciting) those emotions from their audience, but by giving them an example of how such events should be met. In this case, the primary emphasis of the catharsis here might just be the development of human empathy. I, at least, like that reading better.

Anyhow, we're discussing the work today at my little group, and though I've had to work myself into it, I'm now rather looking forward to it.

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