Question: Much has been made in classical scholarship about the consistent appearance of tragic flaws, especially hubris in Greek protagonists… Achilles, Odysseus, etc. Aristotle especially, in his commentary on Oedipus Tyrannu, goes to great lengths to dismiss any possibility that Sophocles challenged this literary tendency. To what extent do you think this trend continues or ends with Oedipus?
The following is an excerpt of Aristotle’s Poetics, sections 13-14, that deal explicitly with tragedy’s reliance upon the concept of the tragic flaws of the protagonist. The information herein may prove useful to your response to the above question. You may prepare all you like at home, but your response must be entirely crafted in class without the use of notes of any kind. RESPONSES WILL BE CRAFTED IN CLASS ON FRIDAY, JANUARY 19TH!!!
Poetics
Aristotle
Translated by S. H. Butcher
XIII
As the sequel to what has already been said, we must proceed to consider what the poet should aim at, and what he should avoid, in constructing his plots; and by what means the specific effect of Tragedy will be produced.
A perfect tragedy should, as we have seen, be arranged not on the simple but on the complex plan. It should, moreover, imitate actions which excite pity and fear, this being the distinctive mark of tragic imitation. It follows plainly, in the first place, that the change of fortune presented must not be the spectacle of a virtuous man brought from prosperity to adversity: for this moves neither pity nor fear; it merely shocks us. Nor, again, that of a bad man passing from adversity to prosperity: for nothing can be more alien to the spirit of Tragedy; it possesses no single tragic quality; it neither satisfies the moral sense nor calls forth pity or fear. Nor, again, should the downfall of the utter villain be exhibited. A plot of this kind would, doubtless, satisfy the moral sense, but it would inspire neither pity nor fear; for pity is aroused by unmerited misfortune, fear by the misfortune of a man like ourselves. Such an event, therefore, will be neither pitiful nor terrible. There remains, then, the character between these two extremes—that of a man who is not eminently good and just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty. He must be one who is highly renowned and prosperous—a personage like Oedipus, Thyestes, or other illustrious men of such families.
A well-constructed plot should, therefore, be single in its issue, rather than double as some maintain. The change of fortune should be not from bad to good, but, reversely, from good to bad. It should come about as the result not of vice, but of some great error or frailty, in a character either such as we have described, or better rather than worse. The practice of the stage bears out our view. At first the poets recounted any legend that came in their way. Now, the best tragedies are founded on the story of a few houses—on the fortunes of Alcmaeon, Oedipus, Orestes, Meleager, Thyestes, Telephus, and those others who have done or suffered something terrible. A tragedy, then, to be perfect according to the rules of art should be of this construction. Hence they are in error who censure Euripides just because he follows this principle in his plays, many of which end unhappily. It is, as we have said, the right ending. The best proof is that on the stage and in dramatic competition, such plays, if well worked out, are the most tragic in effect; and Euripides, faulty though he may be in the general management of his subject, yet is felt to be the most tragic of the poets.
In the second rank comes the kind of tragedy which some place first. Like the Odyssey, it has a double thread of plot, and also an opposite catastrophe for the good and for the bad. It is accounted the best because of the weakness of the spectators; for the poet is guided in what he writes by the wishes of his audience. The pleasure, however, thence derived is not the true tragic pleasure. It is proper rather to Comedy, where those who, in the piece, are the deadliest enemies—like Orestes and Aegisthus—quit the stage as friends at the close, and no one slays or is slain.
XIV
Fear and pity may be aroused by spectacular means; but they may also result from the inner structure of the piece, which is the better way, and indicates a superior poet. For the plot ought to be so constructed that, even without the aid of the eye, he who hears the tale told will thrill with horror and melt to pity at what takes Place. This is the impression we should receive from hearing the story of the Oedipus. But to produce this effect by the mere spectacle is a less artistic method, and dependent on extraneous aids. Those who employ spectacular means to create a sense not of the terrible but only of the monstrous, are strangers to the purpose of Tragedy; for we must not demand of Tragedy any and every kind of pleasure, but only that which is proper to it. And since the pleasure which the poet should afford is that which comes from pity and fear through imitation, it is evident that this quality must be impressed upon the incidents.
Let us then determine what are the circumstances which strike us as terrible or pitiful.
Actions capable of this effect must happen between persons who are either friends or enemies or indifferent to one another. If an enemy kills an enemy, there is nothing to excite pity either in the act or the intention—except so far as the suffering in itself is pitiful. So again with indifferent persons. But when the tragic incident occurs between those who are near or dear to one another—if, for example, a brother kills, or intends to kill, a brother, a son his father, a mother her son, a son his mother, or any other deed of the kind is done—these are the situations to be looked for by the poet. He may not indeed destroy the framework of the received legends—the fact, for instance, that Clytemnestra was slain by Orestes and Eriphyle by Alcmaeon—but he ought to show of his own, and skilfully handle the traditional. material. Let us explain more clearly what is meant by skilful handling.
The action may be done consciously and with knowledge of the persons, in the manner of the older poets. It is thus too that Euripides makes Medea slay her children. Or, again, the deed of horror may be done, but done in ignorance, and the tie of kinship or friendship be discovered afterwards. The Oedipus of Sophocles is an example. Here, indeed, the incident is outside the drama proper; but cases occur where it falls within the action of the play: one may cite the Alcmaeon of Astydamas, or Telegonus in the Wounded Odysseus. Again, there is a third case—[to be about to act with knowledge of the persons and then not to act. The fourth case] is when some one is about to do an irreparable deed through ignorance, and makes the discovery before it is done. These are the only possible ways. For the deed must either be done or not done—and that wittingly or unwittingly. But of all these ways, to be about to act knowing the persons, and then not to act, is the worst. It is shocking without being tragic, for no disaster follows It is, therefore, never, or very rarely, found in poetry. One instance, however, is in the Antigone, where Haemon threatens to kill Creon. The next and better way is that the deed should be perpetrated. Still better, that it should be perpetrated in ignorance, and the discovery made afterwards. There is then nothing to shock us, while the discovery produces a startling effect. The last case is the best, as when in the Cresphontes Merope is about to slay her son, but, recognizing who he is, spares his life. So in the Iphigenia, the sister recognizes the brother just in time. Again in the Helle, the son recognizes the mother when on the point of giving her up. This, then, is why a few families only, as has been already observed, furnish the subjects of tragedy. It was not art, but happy chance, that led the poets in search of subjects to impress the tragic quality upon their plots. They are compelled, therefore, to have recourse to those houses whose history contains moving incidents like these.
Enough has now been said concerning the structure of the incidents, and the right kind of plot.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Oedipus, The GAME!
You've read the play: now play the Game!
You are sitting on the slope of the Acropolis in Athens, with several thousand other men (no women allowed). Some you know from your village, some are Athenians from the city but there are foreign visitors too. It's early morning. The sun hasn't yet come up over Mount Hymettus to your left. Brrr! It's quite chilly - it is only March. It's a whole year since you were last here, on the grassy slope with your cushion to sit on, your himation to wrap round you and plenty of food and drink to last the day. Yesterday was excellent - there was a mass procession to the temple of Dionysus. Then it was party time with loads to drink - it is the Festival of Dionysus, and he is the god of wine! This morning, though, you're all looking down towards a rough oval of flattened ground - waiting for something to happen...
Today is day two of the festival and you're starting with a bit of a hangover. But you don't care - the first part is actually rather boring. It's really just you Athenians showing off how rich and powerful you are - and rubbing the foreigners' noses in it! The generals - all ten of them together - open the festival with a libation. You're all very quiet for this bit. But you all cheer when the money you've taken off the empire in tax during the year is brought in and piled up high. It's great to know you've got all this cash - you can be sure you'll get your "drachma a day" when you go off to fight! Third is the awards ceremony - your "men of the year" collect their prizes. It's only a crown of leaves - but it's the honour that counts. The last bit is always sad. Every year there's some who don't make it back from the fighting. It's their lads on parade next - they get free board and lodging, and when they're eighteen, a free shield and set of armour so they can go and fight properly kitted out the way their dads would have liked.
Every year at this time you feel so proud to be an Athenian, and so glad you're not a foreigner. You can all see the generals you've picked as your leaders - and the money you made from war so you can get paid to fight. Athens has got the muscle, she's got the cash, and your lads are the greatest!
What happens next? The money's all carted off to the treasury, the space is cleared and the real show begins. Today, tomorrow and the next day it's plays, plays, plays. Three writers each have a day to show you their latest dramas - and one 'll win the prize. Every day there's three tragedies with a comedy to finish, so you all go home in a good mood. That's why you brought the cushions and all the grub. For most of you this is the best thing all year. You can hardly wait for the first one to begin...
Sophocles is on today, and his play is called Oedipus Tyrannus. Oedipus the Tyrant? You don't like tyrants here in Athens.
The stage has filled up suddenly - there are people limping, crawling, shuffling towards the building at the back.
You realise that's the palace of Thebes where Oedipus lives! They look a right miserable bunch - let's hope Oedipus can do something for them! You must shut up now, the palace doors are opening - there's someone coming out ......
Oedipus enters from the palace. His mask shows a care-worn man, no longer young. As he comes to speak to the people on the steps, you notice he has a stick and is limping slightly. Why?
• It's a punishment from Apollo
• It's due to an old childhood injury
• It's because of a birth defect
His stick (sceptron) which helps him walk is also the symbol of his authority.
But now he's faced with a depressed-looking delegation of priests. They carry branches wound with wool, a traditional sign that they have put themselves in Oedipus' hands. Their gods cannot help them. He knows why they've come: a terrible plague is devastating Thebes. Why do they believe that Oedipus can help?
• Because he is the king
• Because he can help them in their prayers
• Because of his track record
What does he tell the priests he's already done to solve this new problem of the plague?
• Sent his brother-in-law to Delphi?
• Consulted the old blind prophet, Tiresias?
• Sent delegates to ask for Apollo's help?
By a strange coincidence (not uncommon in the theatre!) Creon appears now, wearing the bayleaf crown of the successful enquirer. What, according to the oracle, is causing the plague?
• A crime committed by Laius, the previous king.Investigate it!
• An undetected murderer. Find him!
• A source of pollution. Root it out!
What will make detection difficult?
• Laius was alone when he was killed, far away from Thebes
• He was killed by thieves
• There are no surviving witnesses
But why wasn't the ruler's murder fully investigated at the time?
• They were distracted by another event
• No one liked him, anyway
• His wife, Jocasta, forbade any investigation
Oedipus now promises to reopen the case of Laius' murder. Why is he especially anxious to do so?
• The killer might strike again
• Because he's good at solving problems
• Because he is good ruler
As Oedipus and Creon go into the house, the priests leave. From the opposite side, enter the Chorus. These representative Thebans haven't heard Creon's news, or Oedipus' decision to reopen the case. They are still preoccupied with the plague, and are still expecting one of their gods to solve the problem. Zeus, Apollo, Athena, Artemis and Dionysus are all invoked against the grim god of Death who is destroying Thebes. After the Chorus' song, Oedipus re-emerges. He says that he will grant their prayers. He makes a proclamation, telling the people to denounce the murderer, or for him to give himself up. What punishment will he receive?
• None - there'll be a free pardon if he confesses
• Death - but the city will be cleansed
• Exile - banishment from Thebes
But no one comes forward to confess. What will be the punishment for the guilty man when he is found?
• Torture
• Death
• Exile
He then formally curses the unknown murderer and anyone who shelters or protects him, even unwittingly. "Even if he's caught in my own house: may the curse I pronounced on him strike me." [Irony!]
Why is he so anxious to avenge Laius?
• He was his father
• He was like a father to him
• He was Jocasta's husband
The Chorus, awed by Oedipus' curse, say they know nothing - but they know a man who does: the blind seer Tiresias. When, shortly, Tiresias arrives, guided by a young boy, how does Oedipus treat him?
• arrogantly?
• respectfully?
• angrily?
But Tiresias, having arrived, seems reluctant to say anything. Is this because
• he doesn't know the answer?
• it isn't lawful to reveal the answer?
• he knows the answer?
But his scruples merely infuriate Oedipus, who assumes that Tiresias
• killed Laius himself
• is a traitor to Thebes
• hates him, because he solved the riddle of the Sphinx
This enrages Tiresias, who now reveals that Oedipus is the killer of Laius, and that he is living sinfully with his loved ones. Oedipus does not seem to be listening. Is it because he's too angry, or is it because
• he is convinced that Tiresias is part of a plot against him?
• he knows he is totally innocent of the charges?
• he is secretly worried, but decides to brazen it out?
And remember, as far as Oedipus knows, the only "evidence" for Laius' murder as a cause for the plague came from Creon. He believes Creon has sent Tiresias to try to frame him, in order to take over as ruler. Why should Oedipus believe that Tiresias is a bogus prophet?
• He said nothing about the murder at the time
• He failed to solve the riddle of the Sphinx
• He's a blind old fool who's never said anything useful
He goes on mocking Tiresias - his blindness as a prophet, with eyes wide open for profit. This makes Tiresias forget all restraint - what does he tell Oedipus?
• That Laius was his father?
• That he killed his father and married his mother?
• That he is blind?
He hints darkly at the secrets of Oedipus' marriage, and his parentage. Oedipus accuses him of talking in riddles. "Isn't solving riddles what you are good at?" mocks the old man. And he departs, adding to the "riddle". The murderer...
• ... is not a Theban
• ...is brother and father to his children
• ...killed Laius at a crossroads
Tiresias' riddle is cunning. The audience know the outline of the story (it's as old as Homer), and they'll pick up on the references to Oedipus' story - he killed his father and married his mother. But Tiresias says the murderer is a Theban (who doesn't realize he is), who is brother and father to his children, and is married to the wife of the man he killed. All this seems to Oedipus either absurd (he knows who his parents are and where they are: Polybus and Merope in Corinth) or malicious. In either case he is too angry to listen properly. Possibly he even leaves the stage before Tiresias has finished. Does Oedipus think that Tiresias may have heard whispers about the prophecy he received at Delphi? Impossible, as Oedipus has told no one until he tells Jocasta shortly; and anyway, he believes he has avoided the curse by coming to Thebes! The Chorus don't think he is guilty. Why not?
• .They can't believe anything bad of the king
• They don't believe in Tiresias' powers
• They believe Apollo will reveal the truth
But Creon returns to face the charge that he is plotting against Oedipus. What is Oedipus' case against him based on?
• He's next in line to the throne
• He is in league with Tiresias
• He had a motive for killing Laius himself
How does Creon defend himself?
• Telling Oedipus he can go to Delphi and check the oracle for himself?
• Saying he was already sharing the power with Oedipus and Jocasta?
• Telling Oedipus he's always been a friend as well as brother-in-law?
What does Oedipus propose to do to Creon now?
• Pardon him?
• Banish him?
• Kill him?
Creon is still loudly protesting his innocence when Jocasta arrives. She's the link between them: Creon's sister and Oedipus' wife. Her intervention makes Oedipus back down, and Creon is allowed to go, his fate unclear, still muttering about the injustice. Oedipus is now alone with Jocasta, and reveals his worries. He says how Creon, using Tiresias the prophet as his front man, was plotting against him. Jocasta says all prophecy is bunk - and tells the story of her son to prove it. Laius, according to Apollo's prophets, was supposed to be killed by his son: but he was killed, poor man, by strangers at the place where three roads meet, a crossroads.
The baby died, exposed with his ankles skewered, on Mount Cithaeron. But something about this story worries Oedipus - why? Does he think ...
• ...he may have killed his father?
• ...he may have killed Laius?
• ...Jocasta may be his mother?
Why had he left Corinth, and his parents Polybus and Merope?
• Because of a quarrel with his parents?
• Because of doubts that Polybus was his father?
• Because he killed a man who insulted him at a banquet?
But it set his mind worrying - only the god Apollo could settle his mind for good. But when he went to Delphi, what did Apollo tell him?
• You will kill your father and marry your mother?
• You will kill your father?
• Your parents abandoned you at birth?
And so Oedipus ran from Delphi, determined never to see his parents in Corinth again. Did he forget it was because of doubts about his parentage that he'd gone to the oracle in the first place? He came to a place where three roads meet. Alone, on foot, he met a man with an entourage. Why did he kill him?
• The man insulted him
• The man tried to run him down
• The man assaulted him
But now he believes it's he who must suffer the punishment he himself had laid down - to be driven from Thebes in shame. What does he believe that he's guilty of?
• Murder?
• Parricide?
• Incest?
At the time, Oedipus was proud to have killed a man who'd insulted and assaulted him - normal behaviour. But if it were Laius, the act becomes a crime, because he'd made it one by his own proclamation (in response to Apollo's oracle)! But there's still hope - if the old shepherd can be found. Why?
• He killed all the party
• Laius was killed by robbers
• The shepherd won't recognise him
But Jocasta says it's too late for the man to change his story - and anyway, Laius' death won't fit the prophecy, that a son of hers was supposed to kill him. The couple go into the house. The Chorus sing. What do they think?
• They can no longer trust the gods
• Their rulers do not respect the gods
• The gods will make certain their prophecies are fulfilled
But when Jocasta comes back out of the house, alone, even she seems chastened - she's off to visit the temples of the gods! Ironically, she's praying to Apollo, because her husband is terrified by the oracles (which came from him). But she is interrupted by an arrival - who is it?
• An old shepherd, the witness to the murder?
• A completely different old shepherd?
• Oedipus?
What is the news he tells Jocasta?
• Polybus is dead
• Oedipus' father is dead
• Oedipus must return home
Oedipus joins his wife in celebrating the failure of prophecy. But what still worries him?
• He might have killed Laius?
• He might sleep with Merope?
• He might have to go back to Corinth?
But Oedipus will not be soothed. The messenger overhears, and offers to help. What is he afraid of? Oedipus tells him of the prophecy - that he will kill his father and marry his mother. The shepherd says there's no need to worry at all, because ...
• Merope is not his mother
• His mother is also dead
• Polybus was not his father
How, then, had Polybus come to treat Oedipus as his son?
• Polybus had no son of his own, and adopted Oedipus
• Polybus' shepherd found him
• The shepherd gave the baby to Polybus
When Jocasta hears this, she reacts, but says nothing. Why?
• She knows the truth will come out
• She suspects the truth may come out
• She hopes the truth will not come out
But Oedipus, unaware of what he'll reveal, is calling for the other shepherd to be brought in. Jocasta tries desperately to persuade him to call off the search. She fails, screams and rushes into the house. What does Oedipus think her problem is?
• She knows she's his mother
• She thinks she's married to a slave's son
• She's a woman, and can't face the truth
All may yet turn out for the best! But the moment of hope won't last long. The Old Shepherd has arrived - but it seems he does not recognise the Corinthian, despite the time they allegedly spent together on Mount Cithaeron. How long was this?
• One season, from spring to autumn?
• Two seasons?
• Three seasons?
The Corinthian insists the Theban gave him a little boy, which is hotly denied. He does not reveal his information until he is tortured, and even then reluctantly. Who had given him the baby to kill?
• Jocasta?
• A servant in Laius' house?
• Laius?
Why, according to the shepherd, was he told to get rid of the baby?
• It would kill its father and marry its mother
• It would kill its father
• It would kill its parents
The shepherd explains how he pitied the baby and saved its life. Oedipus now knows the truth. The oracle given to him at Delphi has been fulfilled. He has been cohabiting with his mother, and has had (4) children with her. He killed Laius, who was indeed his father. He has committed the two foulest imaginable crimes. He rushes into the house. The Chorus reflect how Oedipus saved them from the Sphinx, and how they looked up to him. Now they wish they had never seen him.A messenger comes out of the house, to report on the horror inside. He saw Oedipus rush in, demanding a sword. What did he want it for?
• To kill Jocasta?
• To kill himself?
• To blind himself?
The messenger tells how Oedipus crashed through the house with his sword drawn from room to room, looking for Jocasta. He found her hanging, already dead. Oedipus grabbed the pins fastening her dress at the shoulders, and stabbed his eyes repeatedly. Soon he comes out of the house, a grotesque parody of his entrance at the start. What do the Chorus blame for what's happened to him?
• Insanity?
• Oedipus himself?
• Apollo?
• Zeus?
• Fate?
The Chorus say he would be better off dead. Why did he blind himself instead of taking his life?
• So he would not have to see his children/siblings
• So he would not have to face his parents in the underworld
• So he wouldn't have to see his fellow Thebans
He thinks back to his supposed father, Polybus and his real father, Laius. "The blackest deeds a man can do, I have done them all." Creon returns, now the ruler. What does he order his men to do with Oedipus?
• Kill him.
• Drive him out of the city.
• Take him into the house
Why will Creon not grant Oedipus' wish?
• He's waiting to be told what to do, by higher authority
• He wants to make Oedipus suffer, for revenge
• He wants him to stay in Thebes, because of a prophecy
But isn't it obvious, he tells Creon, that he was intended to die on Cithaeron: why not cast him out? But he has a feeling that he has been saved from death for a purpose [which will be revealed many years later in the sequel, Oedipus at Colonus]. But he'd like to say farewell to ..
• His wife's body?
• His daughters?
• His sons?
He embraces them and voices his fears for them ... fears that
• they'll be exiled with him
• they'll never get husbands
• Creon won't look after them
Creon tells him to let go of them. He agrees that Oedipus must leave Thebes. Creon's men remove the girls. Where does Oedipus go as the play ends?
• to Cithaeron?
• Into the house?
• To Colonus?
The End! Well done! There will be a short interval before the next play. But if you want the sequel, you will have to wait about 25 years, until Sophocles returns to the Theban story, with Oedipus at Colonus.
You are sitting on the slope of the Acropolis in Athens, with several thousand other men (no women allowed). Some you know from your village, some are Athenians from the city but there are foreign visitors too. It's early morning. The sun hasn't yet come up over Mount Hymettus to your left. Brrr! It's quite chilly - it is only March. It's a whole year since you were last here, on the grassy slope with your cushion to sit on, your himation to wrap round you and plenty of food and drink to last the day. Yesterday was excellent - there was a mass procession to the temple of Dionysus. Then it was party time with loads to drink - it is the Festival of Dionysus, and he is the god of wine! This morning, though, you're all looking down towards a rough oval of flattened ground - waiting for something to happen...
Today is day two of the festival and you're starting with a bit of a hangover. But you don't care - the first part is actually rather boring. It's really just you Athenians showing off how rich and powerful you are - and rubbing the foreigners' noses in it! The generals - all ten of them together - open the festival with a libation. You're all very quiet for this bit. But you all cheer when the money you've taken off the empire in tax during the year is brought in and piled up high. It's great to know you've got all this cash - you can be sure you'll get your "drachma a day" when you go off to fight! Third is the awards ceremony - your "men of the year" collect their prizes. It's only a crown of leaves - but it's the honour that counts. The last bit is always sad. Every year there's some who don't make it back from the fighting. It's their lads on parade next - they get free board and lodging, and when they're eighteen, a free shield and set of armour so they can go and fight properly kitted out the way their dads would have liked.
Every year at this time you feel so proud to be an Athenian, and so glad you're not a foreigner. You can all see the generals you've picked as your leaders - and the money you made from war so you can get paid to fight. Athens has got the muscle, she's got the cash, and your lads are the greatest!
What happens next? The money's all carted off to the treasury, the space is cleared and the real show begins. Today, tomorrow and the next day it's plays, plays, plays. Three writers each have a day to show you their latest dramas - and one 'll win the prize. Every day there's three tragedies with a comedy to finish, so you all go home in a good mood. That's why you brought the cushions and all the grub. For most of you this is the best thing all year. You can hardly wait for the first one to begin...
Sophocles is on today, and his play is called Oedipus Tyrannus. Oedipus the Tyrant? You don't like tyrants here in Athens.
The stage has filled up suddenly - there are people limping, crawling, shuffling towards the building at the back.
You realise that's the palace of Thebes where Oedipus lives! They look a right miserable bunch - let's hope Oedipus can do something for them! You must shut up now, the palace doors are opening - there's someone coming out ......
Oedipus enters from the palace. His mask shows a care-worn man, no longer young. As he comes to speak to the people on the steps, you notice he has a stick and is limping slightly. Why?
• It's a punishment from Apollo
• It's due to an old childhood injury
• It's because of a birth defect
His stick (sceptron) which helps him walk is also the symbol of his authority.
But now he's faced with a depressed-looking delegation of priests. They carry branches wound with wool, a traditional sign that they have put themselves in Oedipus' hands. Their gods cannot help them. He knows why they've come: a terrible plague is devastating Thebes. Why do they believe that Oedipus can help?
• Because he is the king
• Because he can help them in their prayers
• Because of his track record
What does he tell the priests he's already done to solve this new problem of the plague?
• Sent his brother-in-law to Delphi?
• Consulted the old blind prophet, Tiresias?
• Sent delegates to ask for Apollo's help?
By a strange coincidence (not uncommon in the theatre!) Creon appears now, wearing the bayleaf crown of the successful enquirer. What, according to the oracle, is causing the plague?
• A crime committed by Laius, the previous king.Investigate it!
• An undetected murderer. Find him!
• A source of pollution. Root it out!
What will make detection difficult?
• Laius was alone when he was killed, far away from Thebes
• He was killed by thieves
• There are no surviving witnesses
But why wasn't the ruler's murder fully investigated at the time?
• They were distracted by another event
• No one liked him, anyway
• His wife, Jocasta, forbade any investigation
Oedipus now promises to reopen the case of Laius' murder. Why is he especially anxious to do so?
• The killer might strike again
• Because he's good at solving problems
• Because he is good ruler
As Oedipus and Creon go into the house, the priests leave. From the opposite side, enter the Chorus. These representative Thebans haven't heard Creon's news, or Oedipus' decision to reopen the case. They are still preoccupied with the plague, and are still expecting one of their gods to solve the problem. Zeus, Apollo, Athena, Artemis and Dionysus are all invoked against the grim god of Death who is destroying Thebes. After the Chorus' song, Oedipus re-emerges. He says that he will grant their prayers. He makes a proclamation, telling the people to denounce the murderer, or for him to give himself up. What punishment will he receive?
• None - there'll be a free pardon if he confesses
• Death - but the city will be cleansed
• Exile - banishment from Thebes
But no one comes forward to confess. What will be the punishment for the guilty man when he is found?
• Torture
• Death
• Exile
He then formally curses the unknown murderer and anyone who shelters or protects him, even unwittingly. "Even if he's caught in my own house: may the curse I pronounced on him strike me." [Irony!]
Why is he so anxious to avenge Laius?
• He was his father
• He was like a father to him
• He was Jocasta's husband
The Chorus, awed by Oedipus' curse, say they know nothing - but they know a man who does: the blind seer Tiresias. When, shortly, Tiresias arrives, guided by a young boy, how does Oedipus treat him?
• arrogantly?
• respectfully?
• angrily?
But Tiresias, having arrived, seems reluctant to say anything. Is this because
• he doesn't know the answer?
• it isn't lawful to reveal the answer?
• he knows the answer?
But his scruples merely infuriate Oedipus, who assumes that Tiresias
• killed Laius himself
• is a traitor to Thebes
• hates him, because he solved the riddle of the Sphinx
This enrages Tiresias, who now reveals that Oedipus is the killer of Laius, and that he is living sinfully with his loved ones. Oedipus does not seem to be listening. Is it because he's too angry, or is it because
• he is convinced that Tiresias is part of a plot against him?
• he knows he is totally innocent of the charges?
• he is secretly worried, but decides to brazen it out?
And remember, as far as Oedipus knows, the only "evidence" for Laius' murder as a cause for the plague came from Creon. He believes Creon has sent Tiresias to try to frame him, in order to take over as ruler. Why should Oedipus believe that Tiresias is a bogus prophet?
• He said nothing about the murder at the time
• He failed to solve the riddle of the Sphinx
• He's a blind old fool who's never said anything useful
He goes on mocking Tiresias - his blindness as a prophet, with eyes wide open for profit. This makes Tiresias forget all restraint - what does he tell Oedipus?
• That Laius was his father?
• That he killed his father and married his mother?
• That he is blind?
He hints darkly at the secrets of Oedipus' marriage, and his parentage. Oedipus accuses him of talking in riddles. "Isn't solving riddles what you are good at?" mocks the old man. And he departs, adding to the "riddle". The murderer...
• ... is not a Theban
• ...is brother and father to his children
• ...killed Laius at a crossroads
Tiresias' riddle is cunning. The audience know the outline of the story (it's as old as Homer), and they'll pick up on the references to Oedipus' story - he killed his father and married his mother. But Tiresias says the murderer is a Theban (who doesn't realize he is), who is brother and father to his children, and is married to the wife of the man he killed. All this seems to Oedipus either absurd (he knows who his parents are and where they are: Polybus and Merope in Corinth) or malicious. In either case he is too angry to listen properly. Possibly he even leaves the stage before Tiresias has finished. Does Oedipus think that Tiresias may have heard whispers about the prophecy he received at Delphi? Impossible, as Oedipus has told no one until he tells Jocasta shortly; and anyway, he believes he has avoided the curse by coming to Thebes! The Chorus don't think he is guilty. Why not?
• .They can't believe anything bad of the king
• They don't believe in Tiresias' powers
• They believe Apollo will reveal the truth
But Creon returns to face the charge that he is plotting against Oedipus. What is Oedipus' case against him based on?
• He's next in line to the throne
• He is in league with Tiresias
• He had a motive for killing Laius himself
How does Creon defend himself?
• Telling Oedipus he can go to Delphi and check the oracle for himself?
• Saying he was already sharing the power with Oedipus and Jocasta?
• Telling Oedipus he's always been a friend as well as brother-in-law?
What does Oedipus propose to do to Creon now?
• Pardon him?
• Banish him?
• Kill him?
Creon is still loudly protesting his innocence when Jocasta arrives. She's the link between them: Creon's sister and Oedipus' wife. Her intervention makes Oedipus back down, and Creon is allowed to go, his fate unclear, still muttering about the injustice. Oedipus is now alone with Jocasta, and reveals his worries. He says how Creon, using Tiresias the prophet as his front man, was plotting against him. Jocasta says all prophecy is bunk - and tells the story of her son to prove it. Laius, according to Apollo's prophets, was supposed to be killed by his son: but he was killed, poor man, by strangers at the place where three roads meet, a crossroads.
The baby died, exposed with his ankles skewered, on Mount Cithaeron. But something about this story worries Oedipus - why? Does he think ...
• ...he may have killed his father?
• ...he may have killed Laius?
• ...Jocasta may be his mother?
Why had he left Corinth, and his parents Polybus and Merope?
• Because of a quarrel with his parents?
• Because of doubts that Polybus was his father?
• Because he killed a man who insulted him at a banquet?
But it set his mind worrying - only the god Apollo could settle his mind for good. But when he went to Delphi, what did Apollo tell him?
• You will kill your father and marry your mother?
• You will kill your father?
• Your parents abandoned you at birth?
And so Oedipus ran from Delphi, determined never to see his parents in Corinth again. Did he forget it was because of doubts about his parentage that he'd gone to the oracle in the first place? He came to a place where three roads meet. Alone, on foot, he met a man with an entourage. Why did he kill him?
• The man insulted him
• The man tried to run him down
• The man assaulted him
But now he believes it's he who must suffer the punishment he himself had laid down - to be driven from Thebes in shame. What does he believe that he's guilty of?
• Murder?
• Parricide?
• Incest?
At the time, Oedipus was proud to have killed a man who'd insulted and assaulted him - normal behaviour. But if it were Laius, the act becomes a crime, because he'd made it one by his own proclamation (in response to Apollo's oracle)! But there's still hope - if the old shepherd can be found. Why?
• He killed all the party
• Laius was killed by robbers
• The shepherd won't recognise him
But Jocasta says it's too late for the man to change his story - and anyway, Laius' death won't fit the prophecy, that a son of hers was supposed to kill him. The couple go into the house. The Chorus sing. What do they think?
• They can no longer trust the gods
• Their rulers do not respect the gods
• The gods will make certain their prophecies are fulfilled
But when Jocasta comes back out of the house, alone, even she seems chastened - she's off to visit the temples of the gods! Ironically, she's praying to Apollo, because her husband is terrified by the oracles (which came from him). But she is interrupted by an arrival - who is it?
• An old shepherd, the witness to the murder?
• A completely different old shepherd?
• Oedipus?
What is the news he tells Jocasta?
• Polybus is dead
• Oedipus' father is dead
• Oedipus must return home
Oedipus joins his wife in celebrating the failure of prophecy. But what still worries him?
• He might have killed Laius?
• He might sleep with Merope?
• He might have to go back to Corinth?
But Oedipus will not be soothed. The messenger overhears, and offers to help. What is he afraid of? Oedipus tells him of the prophecy - that he will kill his father and marry his mother. The shepherd says there's no need to worry at all, because ...
• Merope is not his mother
• His mother is also dead
• Polybus was not his father
How, then, had Polybus come to treat Oedipus as his son?
• Polybus had no son of his own, and adopted Oedipus
• Polybus' shepherd found him
• The shepherd gave the baby to Polybus
When Jocasta hears this, she reacts, but says nothing. Why?
• She knows the truth will come out
• She suspects the truth may come out
• She hopes the truth will not come out
But Oedipus, unaware of what he'll reveal, is calling for the other shepherd to be brought in. Jocasta tries desperately to persuade him to call off the search. She fails, screams and rushes into the house. What does Oedipus think her problem is?
• She knows she's his mother
• She thinks she's married to a slave's son
• She's a woman, and can't face the truth
All may yet turn out for the best! But the moment of hope won't last long. The Old Shepherd has arrived - but it seems he does not recognise the Corinthian, despite the time they allegedly spent together on Mount Cithaeron. How long was this?
• One season, from spring to autumn?
• Two seasons?
• Three seasons?
The Corinthian insists the Theban gave him a little boy, which is hotly denied. He does not reveal his information until he is tortured, and even then reluctantly. Who had given him the baby to kill?
• Jocasta?
• A servant in Laius' house?
• Laius?
Why, according to the shepherd, was he told to get rid of the baby?
• It would kill its father and marry its mother
• It would kill its father
• It would kill its parents
The shepherd explains how he pitied the baby and saved its life. Oedipus now knows the truth. The oracle given to him at Delphi has been fulfilled. He has been cohabiting with his mother, and has had (4) children with her. He killed Laius, who was indeed his father. He has committed the two foulest imaginable crimes. He rushes into the house. The Chorus reflect how Oedipus saved them from the Sphinx, and how they looked up to him. Now they wish they had never seen him.A messenger comes out of the house, to report on the horror inside. He saw Oedipus rush in, demanding a sword. What did he want it for?
• To kill Jocasta?
• To kill himself?
• To blind himself?
The messenger tells how Oedipus crashed through the house with his sword drawn from room to room, looking for Jocasta. He found her hanging, already dead. Oedipus grabbed the pins fastening her dress at the shoulders, and stabbed his eyes repeatedly. Soon he comes out of the house, a grotesque parody of his entrance at the start. What do the Chorus blame for what's happened to him?
• Insanity?
• Oedipus himself?
• Apollo?
• Zeus?
• Fate?
The Chorus say he would be better off dead. Why did he blind himself instead of taking his life?
• So he would not have to see his children/siblings
• So he would not have to face his parents in the underworld
• So he wouldn't have to see his fellow Thebans
He thinks back to his supposed father, Polybus and his real father, Laius. "The blackest deeds a man can do, I have done them all." Creon returns, now the ruler. What does he order his men to do with Oedipus?
• Kill him.
• Drive him out of the city.
• Take him into the house
Why will Creon not grant Oedipus' wish?
• He's waiting to be told what to do, by higher authority
• He wants to make Oedipus suffer, for revenge
• He wants him to stay in Thebes, because of a prophecy
But isn't it obvious, he tells Creon, that he was intended to die on Cithaeron: why not cast him out? But he has a feeling that he has been saved from death for a purpose [which will be revealed many years later in the sequel, Oedipus at Colonus]. But he'd like to say farewell to ..
• His wife's body?
• His daughters?
• His sons?
He embraces them and voices his fears for them ... fears that
• they'll be exiled with him
• they'll never get husbands
• Creon won't look after them
Creon tells him to let go of them. He agrees that Oedipus must leave Thebes. Creon's men remove the girls. Where does Oedipus go as the play ends?
• to Cithaeron?
• Into the house?
• To Colonus?
The End! Well done! There will be a short interval before the next play. But if you want the sequel, you will have to wait about 25 years, until Sophocles returns to the Theban story, with Oedipus at Colonus.
Oedipus Questions for January 12th!
Things to Consider
Oedipus the King
Hey there! Welcome back from break. I thought it would be fun to punctuate the cold, dismal severity of winter with a nice, refreshing blast of inescapable Greek tragedy. Freudian complexes, anyone? So, this is how things are going to work. Ironically, with this text about predestination, you have a choice to make. When forum time comes around on the 12th (that’s next Friday) you can either make use of our standard discussion format or write your responses in short essay format. This decision is up to you and must be made by Monday the 9th so that I can build the forum groups and distribute the questions.
Prologue (1-150):
Thebes turns to Oedipus to save them again by ridding them of a terrible plague. (Sophocles may have written this play shortly after a great plague which struck Athens.) All call upon the Healer Apollo.
• What does Apollo have to do with healing?
• Why should Oedipus consult this god's oracle?
• Does Oedipus strike you as arrogant in this scene and others, or does Oedipus’ ability to back up his boasts leave him free from the dangers of hubris?
Pay close attention to any references to sight, eyes or blindness, as vision is an important metaphor in this play. After Creon enters and tells the words of Apollo, note the discrepancy between the number of outlaws in the account of each character.
• Why do you think Oedipus says "thief" while Creon says "thieves"? This will happen again later.
• Consider the extent to which Oedipus embodies the characteristics of the ideal.
Parodos (151-212):
• The Chorus calls on a series of gods for help. Why invoke these gods in particular?
First Scene (216-462):
• This scene is filled with many instances of dramatic irony. Discuss.
• Why does Tiresias refuse to help Oedipus?
• Why can't Oedipus understand the information Tiresias does give to him?
• Oedipus seems to be driven by a mixture of paranoia and an earnest desire to save the city. What do you make of his character at this point in the play?
First Stasimon (463-511):
• The Chorus is completely confused by the accusations of Tiresias. Why? Consider the images of hunting and wildness here, as they will return later.
Second Scene (573-953):
Arguably, this is the key scene.
• Is Creon especially admirable here?
• Compare his actions and wishes to Oedipus'.
• Read carefully Jocasta's account of her lost child which begins at 705, and then Oedipus' reaction to it. Does anything in his reaction strike you as strange?
• Consider this especially in light of the almost identical story he tells later in the same scene .
• Why doesn't Oedipus make a connection?
• Pay close attention to Jocasta's denunciation of oracles.
• Think about the larger resonances of Oedipus' comment (845) "How can one be the same as many?"
Second Stasimon
• The Chorus describes a wild, impious, violent man. Whom do they mean?
• What is the connection between this wild man and "the sacred dance" (896) ?
Third Scene (911-1085):
Consider the general force of Jocasta's on-going aspersion of oracles in the light of what is about to happen. Note: lines 980-2 are underlined in the German translation of this play which Freud owned
1032.
• Why is the connection between Oedipus' name and his ankles so important?
• At what point do you think that Jocasta begins to suspect the truth?
• When the Shepherd arrives, why won't he talk willingly?
• When Jocasta runs off the stage, Oedipus thinks she is afraid he will be proven a peasant. Why does this idea make him so happy (1076ff) ? And how does Jocasta seem to you now?
Third Stasimon (1086-1109):
The Chorus' takes Oedipus' hope and runs with it, imagining him to be the foundling son of a god.
Fourth Scene (1215-1310):
Aristotle believed this was the finest tragedy because the protagonist's recognition of the truth coincides with the reversal of his fortunes.
• Where, exactly, does this occur in the play? Why do you think so?
Note the half-line exchanges between Oedipus and the Herdsman; this marks the heightened suspense and excitement in the dialogue. With the remark "Her own baby?" Oedipus' world collapses.
Fourth Stasimon (1186-1221):
• In what way is Oedipus now a paradigm of misfortune?
Fifth Scene (1222-1432):
• What was Oedipus trying to do when he finds his wife-mother dead?
• Is blinding an appropriate punishment?
• Why doesn't he commit suicide?
(1295) The Messenger instructs all to "pity" Oedipus. Think about the other references to pity in this drama.
Kommos (1298)-1415:
A kommos is a scene of lamentation in lyrical meters between actor and chorus.
• How would you describe Oedipus' state of mind and attitude here?
• Does anything surprise you about the way he views his disaster?
• Discuss the Chorus' near panic about him and their complete inability to respond coherently to his presence.
Sixth Scene and Exodus (1416-end):
• Again: How would you describe Oedipus' state of mind and attitude here?
• Is Creon fair to Oedipus? Consider especially his admonition at 1523. Consider how the drama would change if the closing lines of the chorus were absent; some scholars believe the text ends with Creon's words.
• Why are Oedipus' daughters in particular so special to him?
• What effect has blindness had on his knowledge?
Oedipus the King
Hey there! Welcome back from break. I thought it would be fun to punctuate the cold, dismal severity of winter with a nice, refreshing blast of inescapable Greek tragedy. Freudian complexes, anyone? So, this is how things are going to work. Ironically, with this text about predestination, you have a choice to make. When forum time comes around on the 12th (that’s next Friday) you can either make use of our standard discussion format or write your responses in short essay format. This decision is up to you and must be made by Monday the 9th so that I can build the forum groups and distribute the questions.
Prologue (1-150):
Thebes turns to Oedipus to save them again by ridding them of a terrible plague. (Sophocles may have written this play shortly after a great plague which struck Athens.) All call upon the Healer Apollo.
• What does Apollo have to do with healing?
• Why should Oedipus consult this god's oracle?
• Does Oedipus strike you as arrogant in this scene and others, or does Oedipus’ ability to back up his boasts leave him free from the dangers of hubris?
Pay close attention to any references to sight, eyes or blindness, as vision is an important metaphor in this play. After Creon enters and tells the words of Apollo, note the discrepancy between the number of outlaws in the account of each character.
• Why do you think Oedipus says "thief" while Creon says "thieves"? This will happen again later.
• Consider the extent to which Oedipus embodies the characteristics of the ideal.
Parodos (151-212):
• The Chorus calls on a series of gods for help. Why invoke these gods in particular?
First Scene (216-462):
• This scene is filled with many instances of dramatic irony. Discuss.
• Why does Tiresias refuse to help Oedipus?
• Why can't Oedipus understand the information Tiresias does give to him?
• Oedipus seems to be driven by a mixture of paranoia and an earnest desire to save the city. What do you make of his character at this point in the play?
First Stasimon (463-511):
• The Chorus is completely confused by the accusations of Tiresias. Why? Consider the images of hunting and wildness here, as they will return later.
Second Scene (573-953):
Arguably, this is the key scene.
• Is Creon especially admirable here?
• Compare his actions and wishes to Oedipus'.
• Read carefully Jocasta's account of her lost child which begins at 705, and then Oedipus' reaction to it. Does anything in his reaction strike you as strange?
• Consider this especially in light of the almost identical story he tells later in the same scene .
• Why doesn't Oedipus make a connection?
• Pay close attention to Jocasta's denunciation of oracles.
• Think about the larger resonances of Oedipus' comment (845) "How can one be the same as many?"
Second Stasimon
• The Chorus describes a wild, impious, violent man. Whom do they mean?
• What is the connection between this wild man and "the sacred dance" (896) ?
Third Scene (911-1085):
Consider the general force of Jocasta's on-going aspersion of oracles in the light of what is about to happen. Note: lines 980-2 are underlined in the German translation of this play which Freud owned
1032.
• Why is the connection between Oedipus' name and his ankles so important?
• At what point do you think that Jocasta begins to suspect the truth?
• When the Shepherd arrives, why won't he talk willingly?
• When Jocasta runs off the stage, Oedipus thinks she is afraid he will be proven a peasant. Why does this idea make him so happy (1076ff) ? And how does Jocasta seem to you now?
Third Stasimon (1086-1109):
The Chorus' takes Oedipus' hope and runs with it, imagining him to be the foundling son of a god.
Fourth Scene (1215-1310):
Aristotle believed this was the finest tragedy because the protagonist's recognition of the truth coincides with the reversal of his fortunes.
• Where, exactly, does this occur in the play? Why do you think so?
Note the half-line exchanges between Oedipus and the Herdsman; this marks the heightened suspense and excitement in the dialogue. With the remark "Her own baby?" Oedipus' world collapses.
Fourth Stasimon (1186-1221):
• In what way is Oedipus now a paradigm of misfortune?
Fifth Scene (1222-1432):
• What was Oedipus trying to do when he finds his wife-mother dead?
• Is blinding an appropriate punishment?
• Why doesn't he commit suicide?
(1295) The Messenger instructs all to "pity" Oedipus. Think about the other references to pity in this drama.
Kommos (1298)-1415:
A kommos is a scene of lamentation in lyrical meters between actor and chorus.
• How would you describe Oedipus' state of mind and attitude here?
• Does anything surprise you about the way he views his disaster?
• Discuss the Chorus' near panic about him and their complete inability to respond coherently to his presence.
Sixth Scene and Exodus (1416-end):
• Again: How would you describe Oedipus' state of mind and attitude here?
• Is Creon fair to Oedipus? Consider especially his admonition at 1523. Consider how the drama would change if the closing lines of the chorus were absent; some scholars believe the text ends with Creon's words.
• Why are Oedipus' daughters in particular so special to him?
• What effect has blindness had on his knowledge?
What are we to make of old Swollen-Foot anyway?
For Oedipus Game and other cool stuff!!!
http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~loxias/myth.htm
Enjoying "Oedipus the King", by SophoclesEd Friedlander MD erf@kcumb.edu
If you are a student assigned to read "Oedipus the King", and perhaps also to comment on Aristotle's ideas about tragedy and "tragic flaws", this site will help you get started.
Warning: This is NOT a "family" site, and Sophocles is NOT "family entertainment".
"Oedipus the King" is a monument to Sophocles's dramatic genius, and to the freedom of Athenian thought. It develops a shocking, profoundly immoral idea about a human being's ultimate relationship to the universe.
Thankfully, there is no reason to think that Sophocles's idea is true, or that Sophocles really believed it.
Commentators on Sophocles, beginning with Aristotle, have tried to cover over the obvious. This explains the nonsense about "tragic flaws" and "hybris".
If you want something nice, please leave now.
What's here?
1. The Folk Tale
2. Predestination
3. Sophocles
4. Aristotle
5. Today
We don't know whether there was a historical Oedipus. "Oedipus" means "swollen feet". The Greeks pronounced it "oy-DEEP-us". Oed- is the same root as "oedema / edema" (tissue swelling; the British preserve the initial "o"), while "-pus" is feet (hence "octopus", the eight-footed animal.)
Laius and Jocasta were king and queen of Thebes, a town in Greece. One day, they had a baby boy. An oracle prophesied that the boy would grow up and kill his father and marry his mother. To thwart the prophecy, Laius and Jocasta decided to kill their baby. In those days, it was usual to leave an unwanted or defective baby in the wilderness. Laius and Jocasta did this. To be extra-sure, they pierced his little feet and tied them together. (Don't worry about this detail, which makes no sense. It must have been introduced to explain the hero's name.)
A kindly shepherd found the baby. He gave the baby to a friend, who took it to Corinth, another town. (Corinth reappears in the New Testament.) The king and queen of Corinth couldn't have a baby of their own. So they adopted the foundling.
Nobody ever told little Oedipus that his mother was never pregnant. One day, after he had grown up, a drunk mentioned his being adopted. Oedipus questioned his parents, but they denied it. Oedipus visited various oracles to find out whether he was really adopted. All the oracles told him instead that he would kill his father and marry his mother. (None of this makes much sense. Again, don't worry about it. This is a folk tale.)
To thwart the oracles, Oedipus left Corinth permanently. (Again, don't worry. Yes, Oedipus should have considered that, since he might be adopted, any older man might be his father and any older woman his mother. But this is a folk tale.)
Travelling the roads, Oedipus got into a traffic squabble and killed a stranger who (unknown to him) was King Laius. In one version, there was a dispute over right-of-way on a bridge. In those days, high rank got to go first, Oedipus identified himself as heir to the throne of Corinth, and for some reason (again, don't worry about it) Laius's people simply attacked instead of explaining that he was king of Thebes. Some versions say that the rude Laius drove over Oedipus's sore foot, making him lose his temper.
Soon Oedipus's smarts saved the town of Thebes, and he was made king. (In a folk-tale within a folk-tale, Oedipus solved the Riddle of the Sphinx. "What animal has four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?" Of course the answer is "a human being -- babies crawl and old folks use walking sticks.") Oedipus married Laius's widow, Queen Jocasta. He ruled well, and they had four children.
Eventually, Oedipus and Jocasta found out what had really happened. (You must assume that accidentally killing your father and marrying your mother is a disaster.) Jocasta committed suicide, and Oedipus blinded himself and became a wandering beggar.
In the version which must have been the favorite of Sophocles's Athenian audience, Oedipus found sanctuary at Colonus, outside of Athens. The kindness he was shown at the end made the city itself blessed.
The moral of the folk tale? Even if you try to thwart your destiny, you won't succeed!
In Iliad XXIII, we read about one Mecisteus, who "went once to Thebes after the fall of Oedipus, to attend his funeral, and he beat all the people of Cadmus", evidently at boxing (funeral games) which is the subject of the passage. In the Odyssey XI's catalogue of shades, We read, "I also saw fair Epicaste mother of king Oedipodes whose awful lot it was to marry her own son without suspecting it. He married her after having killed his father, but the gods proclaimed the whole story to the world; whereon he remained king of Thebes, in great grief for the spite the gods had borne him; but Epicaste went to the house of the mighty jailor Hades, having hanged herself for grief, and the avenging spirits haunted him as for an outraged mother -- to his ruing bitterly thereafter." That's what Homer has to say about Oedipus. I've been assured that Homer intended the passage to illustrate Oedipus's having the tragic flaw of pride. I can't see what kind of sense this makes.
A NYU student found a personal meaning:
What is the moral of this story? Don't go to a fortune teller! Let life take its course. Your fate is already written and sealed. If you know all there is to know about your life, then why bother living? You'll spend the rest of your life worrying about what's to come. Embrace life and its surprises.
Story of Oedipus
Oedipus Wrecked -- humor. Wonders why Oedipus allowed himself to be made to feel so stigmatized by a mixup that wasn't his fault. "Moral of the story: Being a victim of gurus, society, and circumstances does not relieve one of the responsibility of thinking for themselves. It does make for a tragic hero, however."
Sphinxes -- and a lot on the background of the story. The author is with me on the "hamartia" business, below. Thanks for the sphinx.
Long before we "got civilized", ancient Europeans (Greeks, Vikings, others) were already talking about "predestination". If something was going to happen, it would happen and there was nothing you could do about it.
Why would anybody talk like this?
1. Ancient people may have been impressed (or wanted to be impressed) by the fulfillment of prophecies. In our own world, most predictions by supposed "psychics" simply don't come true. But people want to believe in the supernatural, and people like to tell each other about the rare occasions when something happens that a psychic said would happen. So money-making "psychics" make lots of predictions and keep them vague.
People have such a strong desire to believe in the power of supernatural prediction that they even invent stories of psychic predictions being fulfilled. The most famous example (Nostradamus and the gray monk in Varennes woods) continues to be told, even though the tale of Louis XVI being disguised as a monk when he was captured there is just a lie.
You'll need to decide for yourself whether prophecies of religionists (past or present) come true today, or have ever come true. Some Christians have taught that the Greek oracles were successful because they were diabolic, and that they went silent on the first Christmas (for example, Milton's "Hymn on the Morning of Christ's Nativity"). People want to believe in oracles.
2. Believing in predestination frees people from worry. Talking about unalterable destiny is extremely popular among soldiers going into battle -- a powerful antidote to obessive fear that would slow or distract a warrior. Soldiers tell each other, "If the bullet has your name on it, you will die." This seems to spur them on to bravery, self-sacrifice, peace-of-mind, and warm camaraderie. Talk about "fate", "predestination", and so forth has found its way into warriors' tales across many cultures. In the Iliad, even Zeus (? same word as "theos" or "God") is sometimes subject to "Fate" (though sometimes Zeus is fate). We also see this in peacetime, whenever people face frightful conflict.
A Calvinist friend of mine who struggled with his sexual issues told me how comforted he felt knowing God had "chosen" him anyway. For some reason which I do not understand, he could believe in this. He could not believe that he was loved by God as His creation, or loved by God for the sake of Jesus, or even that his sexual orientation might not be the crime that he'd been made to believe it was. Again, I'm no psychiatrist, but I'm glad he could find a formulation which brought him comfort.
Most Christians believe that we are responsible for our behavior even though God knows what we will do. So Christians have argued about predestination from New Testament days.
Luke says that the people who chose Christ were predestined to do so. Dante asks the blessed souls in heaven about predestination, and is told they don't know the answer, either. Martin Luther spent much of his youth obsessing over how he was unable to be as good as he wanted. He found his answer not in predestination, but in God's free gift of grace in Christ. For him, this was a comfort and assurance. "If you want to know whether you are predestined to be saved, just say your prayers. Then you will know you are predestined for salvation." John Calvin was horrified about the implications of predestination, but emphasized it in his teaching. Other preachers like Jonathan "Spiders" Edwards and the Wesleys taught that Christ had died for everybody and that everybody had a free choice. Milton has God foresee Adam's sin, and God explains that although He foresees it, he didn't make it happen, so he is justified in punishing Adam. Racine's "Phaedra" marked a return to themes of Greek tragedy and people being the victims of cruel destiny. Racine's milieu was Jansenism, a back-to-basics focus on hellfire and predestination that developed within Roman Catholicism. Boswell, who wrote the biography of Samuel Johnson, obsessed about predestination and became profoundly depressed thinking he could end up damned eternally. He's not the only person who's had this experience. In the US, the "Free Will Baptist" denomination emphasized evangelization and need to work hard to bring others to Christ, against those who thought that God's predestination made this unnecessary.
Some Hindus and Buddhists have taught that a person's behavior in a past life predestines happiness or misery in the current one, by the laws of karma. Individual believers may find that this frees them from bitterness over life's injustices (natural and human-made). You'll need to decide for yourself whether this is good or bad. Belief in karma has awakened social conscience and kindness to strangers in those who believe that "what goes around comes around."
The theme of predestination continues in secular literature. Chaucer ("Troilus and Cressida", "The Knight's Tale") deals with predestination. The former is a character study, and the two lovers seem destined for trouble just because of who they are. Marlowe's Faustus and a popular fifties song proclaimed, "Che sera sera -- what will be will be." Ambiguous -- do we make our own decisions or not? Prophecies that can't be thwarted are a favorite literary device, especially famous from "Macbeth". Ideas about predestination are parodied in "Tristram Shandy" -- the baby is predestined to have a small nose and an ugly name despite the conscious efforts of the parents to avoid these supposed disasters. Today, fulfilled prophecies are a staple of fiction. Although the vast majority of psychic predictions in the real world are failures, they come true as plot devices on the Silver Screen.
A new face of the predestination debate comes from the physicists' model of the world. At least in Newtonian physics, if you know everything about a closed system at one moment of time, you can predict everything that will happen in the future. If our world is really like this, then physical laws predetermine what will happen in our brains, and what we will think and do. The laws of physics (ultimately) even determine our decisions about which side to take in a college bull session about "predestination versus free will."
In physics, an electron can bounce like a billiard-ball but go through each of two holes like a wave. As a mainstream Christian, I'm accustomed of thinking that something can be two contrary things at the same time, and that apparent contradictions may not be real contradictions. The Good Lord feeds the birds, but I know how birds really get their food. I give thanks to the Good Lord for the birth of a child, but nobody requests equal time for "stork science". I know how I get sick and how I recover, and thank the Good Lord for my recovery. The bread and wine are Christ's body and blood -- I don't know how. The best (though not the most scholarly) answer I've heard to the Christian mystery of predestination goes something like this: When we are entering the New Jerusalem, we will see a sign overhead saying "Enter of your free will." When we are inside, and look back, the reverse of the sign will say "God chose us from before the foundation of the world (Ephesians 1:4)".
The folk tale of Oedipus has a popular theme -- predestination.
Sigmund Freud and the "Oedipus complex" aren't the subject of this site. Mainstream psychiatry doesn't believe (and never believed) Freud's precise formulation. Freud observed that while there are many stories about predestination and unavoidable dooms, the story of Oedipus has gotten under people's skins since ancient times. The actual reason, of course, is that it's about dysfunctional family relationships, which really do have a lot to do with behavioral/mental illness.
Sophocles wrote "Oedipus the King" for the annual festival where playwrights competed for prizes. It was a major civic occasion, with attendance expected.
Sophocles the writer is phenomenally good, especially considering his era. His writing is tight, with each phrase contributing to the whole. He is full of succinct observations on life. And despite the limits of the form, he often manages to make his characters seem like real individuals.
The title of our play is often given in its Latin translation "Oedipus Rex", rather than in its original Greek ("Oedipus Tyranneus"), since the Greek term for king is the English "tyrant" which means a monarch who rules without the consent of the people.
As the play opens, the priest of Zeus and a bunch of non-speaking characters (old people, children) appear before King Oedipus with tree-branches wrapped with wool. It was evidently the custom to do this in front of a god's altar when you wanted something urgently.
Oedipus greets them as a caring, compassionate leader. The priest explains (really for the audience's benefit) that Thebes is suffering from a plague. Plants, animals, and people are all dying. The people know Oedipus is not a god, but they believe that some god inspired him to solve the riddle of the sphinx and save the town. And since Oedipus has been king, he has done a splendid job. So now people look to him to find a cure for the plague.
Oedipus explains (really for the audience's benefit) that he has sent Creon (Jocasta's brother) to the oracle of the god Apollo at Delphi to get an answer. He's late returning, but as soon as he gets back, Oedipus promises to do whatever the oracle says.
Just then, Creon arrives. Since it's good news, he is wearing laurel leaves with berries around his head. Creon says, "All's well that ends well." (I'm told that the Greeks loved irony.) Apollo said that the killer of Laius must be found and banished, and the plague will end. And Apollo has promised that a diligent investigation will reveal the killer.
Oedipus asks to review the facts. All that is known is that Laius left for Delphi and never returned. (Don't ask what Oedipus did with the bodies of Laius and his crew.) There was no immediate investigation, because of the sphinx problem. One of Laius's men escaped, and walked back to Thebes. (Don't ask what Oedipus did with Laius's horses and chariot.) By the time he got back, Oedipus was being hailed as king. The witness said Laius was killed by a gang of robbers. (We can already figure out why the witness lied. And we'll learn later that he asked immediately to be transferred away from Thebes, and has been gone ever since.)
Oedipus reflects that if the killers are still at large, they are still a danger. He decides to issue a policy statement to help find the killer.
The chorus, in a song, calls on the various gods (including Triple Artemis, in her aspects as huntress, moon-goddess, and goddess of dark sorcery), to save them from the plague and from the evil god Ares, who is ordinarily the god of war but is here the god of general mass death.
Oedipus issues a policy statement, that whoever comes forward with information about the murder of Laius will be rewarded, and that if the killer himself confesses, he will not be punished beyond having to leave the city permanently. On the other hand, if anyone conceals the killer, Oedipus says he will be cursed. Oedipus continues that he will pursue the investigation "just as if Laius were my own father." (Irony.)
The Chorus says that Apollo ought to come right out and say who the murderer is. (The Chorus's job is to say what ordinary people think.) Oedipus says, "Nobody can make the gods do what they don't want to." The chorus suggests bringing in the blind psychic, Teiresias. Especially, they hope he can find the missing witness to the killing. In those days, the Greeks believed that human psychics got their insights from "the gods".
There are other stories about Teiresias. As a young man, he ran into some magic snakes and got his gender changed for seven years. This enabled him to tell whether the male or the female enjoys sex more. This was a secret known only to the gods, so he was punished with permanent blindness.
Teiresias comes in. Oedipus asks his help finding the killers, ending up by saying, "The greatest thing you can do with your life is to use all your special talents to help others unselfishly."
Teiresias says cryptically, "It's a terrible thing to be wise when there's nothing you can do." (As A.A. Milne would say later, and perhaps Oedipus too, "When ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise.")
Teiresias says, "I want to go home." Oedipus calls him unpatriotic. Teiresias says, "Your words are wide of the mark (hamartia)". Our expression in English is "You're missing the point". (Originally an archery target was a point.) We'll hear about hamartia again.
Teiresias continues to stonewall, and Oedipus gets very angry. Finally Teiresias gives in, says Oedipus is the killer, and adds that he is "living in shame with his closest relative."
Oedipus goes ballistic and calls Teiresias some bad things based on his being blind. (Irony.) Teiresias says, "You'll see soon." Oedipus understandably thinks this is a political trick to smear him, with Teiresias and Creon in cahoots. Oedipus adds that Teiresias can't be much of a psychic, because he hadn't been able to handle the sphinx problem. The Chorus tells both men to cool down. Teiresias leaves, predicting disaster. Soon Oedipus will learn the truth and be a blind exile, leaning on his staff.
The Chorus sings about the oracle at Delphi, which was supposedly the center of the world. "Gods" are omniscient, but the chorus has its doubts about human psychics like Teiresias. Especially, they cannot believe Oedipus is a killer.
Creon comes in, incensed that Oedipus would accuse him of trying to smear him. The Chorus says Oedipus is simply angry. Creon says he must be nuts. The Chorus says that to the king's faults and misbehavior, they are blind. ("See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" -- the norm in a non-democracy.) Oedipus comes in and accuses Creon directly of planning a coup, using a smear by a crooked psychic as an excuse. They exchange angry words. Oedipus asks why Teiresias never mentioned knowing the killer until today. Creon can't explain this. He defends himself from the accusation of planning a coup. (1) Being king is too much trouble. (2) Creon has other worthwhile things to do. (3) Creon has everything he needs. (4) Creon has political influence anyway. (5) Creon is well-liked and isn't going to do an obvious wrong. "You build a good reputation over a lifetime. A single bad action ruins it." Irony.
Oedipus isn't satisfied. He says he wants Creon executed for treason. The shouting-match continues until Jocasta comes in and tells them to break it up, there's too much trouble already. The Chorus says it agrees, and tells Jocasta that both men are at fault.
Creon leaves, and Jocasta asks what's happened. The Chorus talks about what a fine king Oedipus has been, and says, "Let's forget the whole business with Teiresias's prophecy." The Chorus uses a variant of the proverb, "Let sleeping dogs lie." It's better not to ask about things that can make trouble. Irony.
Oedipus talks about it anyway. Jocasta says, "Well, I don't believe in psychics. I'll prove it. Laius and I were told that our baby would kill him and marry me. But this never happened, because we left the baby to die in the woods. And the witness said that Laius was killed at that place where three roads meet by robbers."
"Uh-oh", says Oedipus. "Which three roads?" Irony.
Jocasta says, "It's where the roads from Thebes, Delphi, and Daulis meet. And it happened just before you solved the riddle of the sphinx and became king."
Oedipus is upset. He asks Zeus (chief god), "What are you doing to me?" He asks Jocasta for a description. Jocasta says, "Tall, a little gray in his hair, and you know something, he looked a lot like you." Irony.
Oedipus continues his questioning. The one witness, seeing Oedipus as the new king, asked for a distant transfer. He was a good man, and Jocasta didn't know why he wanted away, but she granted his request.
Oedipus tells his story. He was going to the oracles to find out whether he was adopted. All of them told him simply that he would kill his father and marry his mother. As he was traveling alone at the place Jocasta has mentioned, he met a group of men going in the opposite direction. The men, including the leader, started insulting him. Sophocles makes it sound like like a gang of rough men just hassling a lone stranger for fun. One of the men shoved Oedipus. Oedipus punched him back. The leader struck Oedipus treacherously on the back of the head with the horse staff, Oedipus turned and hit the leader in the chest with his own staff, knocking him out of the chariot. Then Oedipus managed to kill them all except for the one who ran away.
It was justifiable, self-defense. But Oedipus is devastated. He says he must be the killer of Laius, and he is ashamed that he has been having sex with his victim's wife. Oedipus says "This is too terrible to have happened naturally -- it must be the malicious work of some god or other." He says he will simply leave the city, now, and let the plague end. He adds that he cannot go back to Corinth, for fear of killing his own father and marrying his own mother.
The Chorus is deeply sympathetic to Oedipus, and appreciative of his willingness to go voluntarily into exile to save the city. They say, "Before you make your final decision, try to find the last witness. Maybe he will exonerate you." And Oedipus notes, "The witness did say it was robbers, plural."
Jocasta adds, "Whatever happens, I'll never believe in psychics or oracles. Laius was prophesied to die by the hand of his own child."
The Chorus sings a puzzling song about how (1) we have to obey the gods; (2) the gods's best gift is good government; (3) if the government is bad, there is no reason to be good; (4) nobody believes in oracles any more.
Jocasta comes in, having visited the local shrines and left little offerings, and asks people to join her in praying for the distraught Oedipus. He's our leader, and we need him now. She prays to Apollo to make this disastrous situation better. Irony.
Just then, a messenger comes in from Corinth. He says "Lucky Jocasta, you lucky wife!" (Actually, "Blessed is your marriage bed!" Irony.) The king of Corinth has died, and the Corinthians have chosen Oedipus to be their new king. (Greek city-states were often elective monarchies.) Jocasta says, "Great news. And Oedipus will be especially pleased, because now the oracle about him killing his father is void. You see, I was right not to believe in oracles." Irony.
Oedipus comes in, hears the news, and says, "Maybe the oracle has been fulfilled figuratively; perhaps he died of grief for my absence. But I'm still worried about marrying my mother." Jocasta says, "Forget it. Life is governed by chance, not destiny. Maybe you'll dream about marrying your mother. You should ignore dreams." Oedipus is still worried. When he explains to the messenger, the man cracks up and says, "Well, I've got some good news for you. You don't have to worry about marrying the lady you've called mother... because you're adopted!"
All hell breaks loose. Oedipus questions the messenger, and learns the messenger had been herding sheep, had met a shepherd who had found Oedipus, had taken the baby, had taken the pin out of his ankles, and had given him to the king and queen of Corinth to raise as their own. Oedipus is starting to wonder about what has always been wrong with his feet.
Oedipus says, "It's time to clear this up. Send for the other shepherd." Jocasta realizes exactly what has happened. Jocasta begs Oedipus NOT to pursue the matter. Oedipus says he has to know. (If Oedipus wasn't so intent on getting to the truth, there'd be no play.) Jocasta runs out horribly upset. Oedipus is a little slower, and thinks, "Perhaps she's upset to find out I'm not really of royal blood. But what the heck -- I'm 'Destiny's child' -- and that's something to be proud of! I'm me." Irony.
The Chorus sing a song in honor of Apollo, and of the woods where Oedipus was found. The say the spot will become famous. Perhaps Oedipus is the child of nymphs and satyrs. Irony.
The other shepherd is brought in. He already has figured things out, and pretends he doesn't remember. Then he begs the other messenger to be quiet. But Oedipus insists on the truth. It comes out. Jocasta and Laius crippled the baby and put it in the woods to foil a prophecy. Oedipus had, indeed, always wondered what was wrong with his feet. Now everybody knows the truth. Oedipus rushes out.
The Chorus sings a song about how transient happiness is, what a splendid king Oedipus has been, and how Oedipus is now the victim of destiny.
The next scene is an extremely graphic account, by an eyewitness. Jocasta ran into the bedroom, screaming. She locked the door from inside. A few minutes later, Oedipus came in, and broke down the door with what seemed to be supernatural strength. He found Jocasta dead, hanging. Oedipus took the body down, then removed the pin that held up her dress. He stabbed it again and again into his eyes, saying he has looked at his mother's naked body when he shouldn't, and he has learned what he now wishes he hadn't. The blood didn't merely dribble, as after a single needlestick. It gushed on both sides. For this to happen, the choroidal artery that enters the eye from behind must be severed. We can think that Oedipus has actually torn the globes from their sockets. Oedipus now begs to be taken out of the city (so that the plague will end), but he has no strength and no guide.
Oedipus comes in. Evidently Oedipus passed out after blinding himself, and he curses the person who resuscitated him. The Chorus asks, "How were you able to rip out your eyeballs?" Oedipus replies, "Apollo gave me the strength to do it."
Creon is the new king. He is not angry, merely kind. He helps Oedipus up and out of the city, guided by his two daughters. Staff in hand, Oedipus himself is the answer to the riddle of the sphinx. Oedipus says that some incredible destiny must surely await him. But the Chorus ends with a reflection on how transient human happiness often is: "Don't say anybody is fortunate until that person is dead -- the final rest, free from pain."
What is Sophocles saying?
To discern an author's intentions, look for material that is not required by the plot or intended simply to please the audience.
In retelling the story of Oedipus, Sophocles goes beyond mere irony.
· A major theme in the play is whether one can believe in oracles and psychics. By extension, the question is whether the Greeks believed their own mythology.
· Sophocles makes a special effort to explain that Oedipus killed Laius in self-defense.
· More generally, Sophocles goes out of his way to present Oedipus as an extremely capable, beloved administrator. Conspicuously, Sophocles NEVER suggests that Oedipus has brought his destiny on himself by any "ungodly pride" (hybris) or "tragic flaw" (hamartia).
· The last lines seem ambiguous. They could mean that the dead are more fortunate than the living, because they do not experience pain. Is life really that bad?
· "The gods" made the prophecies that led Oedipus into disaster. The sphinx appeared (she must have been sent by the gods), and Oedipus solved her riddle (the chorus says he must have been guided by the gods.) Teiresias could not solve the riddle, or detect the killer -- thanks to "the gods". At the beginning, Apollo's oracle simply says, "Find the killer" -- leading to the cruel ironies of the play. Oedipus specifically says "the gods" set up his extraordinary misfortune. And at the end, Apollo merely gives Oedipus the strength to carve his own eyes out of their sockets.
· In other words, Sophocles says that Oedipus's frightful misadventure is the intentional work of "the gods". At the end, everybody says this. Pure and simple. Nobody even asks why.
The Golden Age of Athens was a time for thinkers, scientists, inventors, and for people to share ideas freely. Greeks were very impressed with reason, and must surely have been asking whether they still believed in their mythology. "Social conservatives" prosecuted Socrates for expressing doubts about "the gods", but only because they thought this would corrupt the minds of young people. (Does this sound familiar?)
People have often noted that comedy and melodrama have arisen independently in many cultures, but that tragedy has its unique beginnings in Athens's golden age -- the first time that we hear people asking the tough questions about what they really believed.
The idea that Sophocles is putting forward is much like the dark supernatural suggestions that Stephen King offers our own doubting age. Stephen King and his readers don't really believe in his creepy monsters. And I don't know whether Sophocles really believed the message of "Oedipus the King".
Sophocles is saying, "Maybe the gods do exist... and are consciously and elaborately MALICIOUS. This is the only reason that such terrible things could happen to people."
Aristotle's Poetics are lecture notes on poetry, with a focus on tragedy. Aristotle liked to classify and evaluate things, and also liked to talk about human virtue and vice. Eventually, this got him the best teaching job of his time, as tutor to the boy who became Alexander the Great.
Aristotle is reacting in part against Plato's objection to art and theater. Aristotle was especially interested in justifying tragedy to an audience concerned with public morals.
I am quoting below from the translation of the Poetics by S.H. Barber.
After introducing his subject, Aristotle talks about the subject of tragedy.
Since the objects of imitation are men in action, and these men must be either of a higher or a lower type (for moral character mainly answers to these divisions, goodness and badness being the distinguishing marks of moral differences), it follows that we must represent men either as better than in real life, or as worse, or as they are. It is the same in painting. Polygnotus depicted men as nobler than they are, Pauson as less noble, Dionysius drew them true to life. -- II
In other words, when you paint or play a person, you can idealize him, you can lampoon him, or you can try for realism. Aristotle continues...
The same distinction marks off Tragedy from Comedy; for Comedy aims at representing men as worse, Tragedy as better than in actual life. -- II
Aristotle means both better-spoken and of better moral character. Aristotle goes on to explain why people make poetry in the first place. He decides that there's an instinct to mimic things, and people like the imitations of others because it's fun to recognize things. He continues...
Poetry now diverged in two directions, according to the individual character of the writers. The graver spirits imitated noble actions, and the actions of good men. The more trivial sort imitated the actions of meaner persons, at first composing satires, as the former did hymns to the gods and the praises of famous men. -- IV
Aristotle adds that the tragedians were the successors of the epic poets, who also focused on high and noble deeds.
Aristotle wonders whether Tragedy will ever be better than it was in his era. He tells about its origins in improvisation, and its recent history.
Aeschylus first introduced a second actor; he diminished the importance of the Chorus, and assigned the leading part to the dialogue. Sophocles raised the number of actors to three, and added scene-painting. -- IV
Originally, tragedies were songs sung by a chorus. Then one member would take the role of a character. Aeschylus added a second speaking part apart from the chorus. Sophocles added a third, and introduced stage scenery.
Now Aristotle moves into the famous definition of tragedy.
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. -- VI
Tragedy must be a unified story, about something important. Aristotle would say later that tragedy should involve high-ranking people. He doesn't give any reason that makes sense. Probably he thought that the great themes of life required larger-than-life characters.
Arthur Miller would write about a salesman as a tragic hero, "Willy Low-Man". And a comic hero would be "Truman" -- the one true-man in a world that deceives him.
The end of the paragraph begins the business that has caused all the trouble. "Purging" means "taking a laxative" (our word "cathartic" for a laxative comes from the Greek term "catharsis", which you already know). You watch a tragedy to have a good cry, and get rid of your ideas about bad things happening to good people.
Every Tragedy, therefore, must have six parts, which parts determine its quality- namely, Plot, Character, Diction, Thought, Spectacle, Song. -- VI
Aristotle goes on to explain what these are.
· Plot: the story; the good ones focus on a single episode.
· Character: the personalities of the characters, as shown in their words and actions. (Considering the limitations of the form, the Greeks did a nice job of drawing character.)
· Diction: the right choice of words. Aristotle points out how effective using just the right word can be.
· Thought: Arguments and exposition. Aristotle compares it to rhetoric.
· Spectacle: as we'd say, "special effects". Not so much the poet's business as the stage-specialist's.
· Song: words joined to music.
What is missing? Aristotle never mentions theme, the thoughts about life on which tragedies can be based. Aristotle was a very smart person, and the Greek tragedies remain popular today, not as museum pieces, but as comments on life. Yet Aristotle is silent on this important element of tragedy.
As you continue to study literature, you'll constantly look for themes. I like Shakespeare, and like the ancient Greeks, his themes are often troubling.
Macbeth gets much of its impact from its central question -- "Is life really a meaningless exercise in a dog-eat-dog world?"
Hamlet focuses on the phoniness and meanness of human society. Hamlet starts by wishing he was dead. At the end, he comes to terms with life as many modern secularists do, deciding to live well in an unfair world.
The themes of Romeo and Juliet were radical in Shakespeare's time. Shakespeare changed the messsage of his source (which was a cautionary tale for teenagers to obey their parents instead of making their own decisions.) Young people should be allowed to choose their own husbands and wives. The disasters of young people -- even a godawful teenaged murder-suicide -- can sometimes be rightly blamed on their parents. And love gives happiness and dignity even in the worst circumstances.
Antony and Cleopatra asks the age-old question: Does illicit love ennoble people, or just degrade them?
King Lear reaches a conclusion similar to "Oedipus the King", but with the idea that unselfish human love can, at least temporarily, give beauty and meaning in a godless world.
Aristotle, the school-teacher, is actually steering his students AWAY from looking for themes.
Aristotle goes on to say that the plot is best kept unified, without subplots, and the action not covering more then 24 hours. Subjects from mythology are traditional but not mandatory. (Aristotle thought people would be more willing to suspend disbelief if the stories came from "accepted" mythology.) If there are to be coincidences, they should seem to make sense.
But again, Tragedy is an imitation not only of a complete action, but of events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at the same time, they follow as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will then be greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident; for even coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design. We may instance the statue of Mitys at Argos, which fell upon his murderer while he was a spectator at a festival, and killed him. Such events seem not to be due to mere chance. Plots, therefore, constructed on these principles are necessarily the best. -- IX
Coincidences are crowd-pleasers, and people are willing to suspend disbelief in them. (People want to believe in magic.) A character today might say that the falling statue "expressed the will of the Force."
Aristotle launches into a big discussion about "simple" vs. "complex" plots. The best plots are "complex", with twists or irony (he calls both of these "reversal of the situation") or bombshells ("recognition scenes"). Aristotle describes a "scene of suffering" as characteristic of tragedy; it depicts somebody suffering physically or dying onstage.
A perfect tragedy should, as we have seen, be arranged not on the simple but on the complex plan. It should, moreover, imitate actions which excite pity and fear, this being the distinctive mark of tragic imitation. It follows plainly, in the first place, that the change of fortune presented must not be the spectacle of a virtuous man brought from prosperity to adversity: for this moves neither pity nor fear; it merely shocks us. Nor, again, that of a bad man passing from adversity to prosperity: for nothing can be more alien to the spirit of Tragedy; it possesses no single tragic quality; it neither satisfies the moral sense nor calls forth pity or fear. Nor, again, should the downfall of the utter villain be exhibited. A plot of this kind would, doubtless, satisfy the moral sense, but it would inspire neither pity nor fear; for pity is aroused by unmerited misfortune, fear by the misfortune of a man like ourselves. Such an event, therefore, will be neither pitiful nor terrible. There remains, then, the character between these two extremes- that of a man who is not eminently good and just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty. He must be one who is highly renowned and prosperous -- a personage like Oedipus, Thyestes, or other illustrious men of such families. -- XIII
This passage continues to cause problems. Plays about bad people ending up happy don't satisfy Aristotle. ("Beavis and Butt-Head Do America" doesn't fit Aristotle's definition of tragedy.) Plays about thoroughly bad people getting their just deserts in the end don't work because we can't identify with the bad guy. ("Richard III" doesn't fit Aristotle's definition of a tragedy, either.) Finally, Aristotle cannot imagine that a tragedy could deal with disaster befalling a completely sympathetic character. He says this would merely shock us.
But "Oedipus the King" DOES shock us, and is intended to do so. Why is Aristotle avoiding the obvious? We'll soon see.
A well-constructed plot should, therefore, be single in its issue, rather than double as some maintain. The change of fortune should be not from bad to good, but, reversely, from good to bad. It should come about as the result not of vice, but of some great error or frailty, in a character either such as we have described, or better rather than worse. The practice of the stage bears out our view. -- XIII
By double plots, Aristotle is referring to serious plays that have a disaster in the middle, but a happy ending. Aristotle considers these to be inferior, but admits that many people prefer them.
In the second rank comes the kind of tragedy which some place first. Like the Odyssey, it has a double thread of plot, and also an opposite catastrophe for the good and for the bad. It is accounted the best because of the weakness of the spectators; for the poet is guided in what he writes by the wishes of his audience. The pleasure, however, thence derived is not the true tragic pleasure. It is proper rather to Comedy, where those who, in the piece, are the deadliest enemies -- like Orestes and Aegisthus -- quit the stage as friends at the close, and no one slays or is slain. -- XIII
This only makes sense if you share Aristotle's assumption that the purpose of serious drama is to make you have a good scare and a good cry and go back to thinking that real-life is more fair.
Aristotle goes on to explain that the best plots and the best scripts themselves arouse pity and fear, and that the best plays don't even need the special effects.
Fear and pity may be aroused by spectacular means; but they may also result from the inner structure of the piece, which is the better way, and indicates a superior poet. For the plot ought to be so constructed that, even without the aid of the eye, he who hears the tale told will thrill with horror and melt to pity at what takes place. This is the impression we should receive from hearing the story of the Oedipus. -- XIV
Aristotle goes on...
Let us then determine what are the circumstances which strike us as terrible or pitiful. -- XIV
They are aroused especially when people kill friends or family. The killer may or may not know what he/she is doing. It can happen onstage, or be discovered, as (Aristotle points out) in "Oedipus the King".
Aristotle was a product of his times.
In respect of Character there are four things to be aimed at. First, and most important, it must be good. Now any speech or action that manifests moral purpose of any kind will be expressive of character: the character will be good if the purpose is good. This rule is relative to each class. Even a woman may be good, and also a slave; though the woman may be said to be an inferior being, and the slave quite worthless. The second thing to aim at is propriety. There is a type of manly valor; but valor in a woman, or unscrupulous cleverness is inappropriate. -- XV
We do not have to be left-wing activists or injustice-collectors to despise this kind of sexism and classism. But the truth is that on the Greek stage, the women are as interesting, sympathetic, intelligent and brave as the men -- an obvious fact which Aristotle ignores.
Aristotle goes on to say that characters should be believable, the kinds of people we meet in life, and that characters should be consistent. Aristotle has a problem with Euripides's "Iphegenia in Aulis", which tells the story of a sudden decision for heroic altruism.
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. -- XIX
Not themes.
Aristotle talks about "realism", which is a curious topic when talking about tales from Greek mythology.
Further, if it be objected that the description is not true to fact, the poet may perhaps reply, "But the objects are as they ought to be"; just as Sophocles said that he drew men as they ought to be; Euripides, as they are. In this way the objection may be met. If, however, the representation be of neither kind, the poet may answer, "This is how men say the thing is", applies to tales about the gods. It may well be that these stories are not higher than fact nor yet true to fact: they are, very possibly, what Xenophanes says of them. -- XXV
Xenophanes came out and said it -- the tales of Greek Mythology are fiction. Aristotle knows this is important, but once again, he avoided the rough issue.
Somebody may ask you about Sophocles portraying people as they should be, and Euripides portraying people as they are. Sophocles shows Oedipus as gracious, capable, and altruistic. Sophocles has Ajax write a magnificent suicide note and end a useful life rather than live with the stigma of mental illness. Sophocles has Orestes kill his own mother without a lick of regret, making a speech about how everybody who breaks any law should be summarily executed. Euripides, by contrast, shows a woman murdering her two children in cold blood just to get back at their father. You can have fun examining this further.
I think I understand.
Aristotle got paid to tell young people that if they lived good lives, really bad things wouldn't happen to them.
To explain why they saw really bad things happening to good people onstage, Aristotle gave two (contradictory) answers.
1. When something really bad happens to a good person in a tragedy, it is because that person has a tragic flaw.
2. When something really bad happens to a good person in a tragedy, it is just make-believe. It is so you can have a good scare and a good cry. This gets these emotions out of your system. You can go back to the real world, where life is fair.
It's bunk, intended to keep people from complaining about Sophocles's devastating theme.
Aristotle may have been the first schoolteacher to smokescreen Sophocles's message that the gods are maybe malicious. He may have thought he was right to do so. Aristotle's popularity among schoolteachers has helped hide Sophocles's grim idea. Even today, students are forced to write essays about "tragic flaws" and "purging pity and fear".
Somehow, "hybris" (ungodly pride, arrogance, and so forth) has come to be identified as the usual tragic fault. I cannot understand why -- the idea does not seem to be Aristotle's. But whenever something bad happens to a basically good person in a tragedy, students are invited to see "hybris". ("Hubris" is the same word; the Greek letter "upsilon" looks like our "Y" and is its origin, but the sound was more like the "uhh" that I make when I have no idea what to say.) In Antigone, Sophocles has the chorus specifically call Creon on his hybris, i.e., his impious decree "intended to promote national security".
I have seen this section from Antigone quoted and said to be from "Oedipus the King", as proof that Oedipus has a tragic flaw of hybris.
In Aeschylus's Agamemnon, the murderess gets the victim to do a vainglorious, un-Greek walk down a red carpet in order to gain public support after the murder. Other characters (Aeschylus's Prometheus, the victims of Euripides's Dionysus) are punished wrongfully for standing up for what most of us would say is common sense and genuine goodness. It is hard to generalize this. Interestingly, I can't find the idea of "hybris" in Aristotle's "Poetics".
During the sixties, we especially resented being told that Antigone's act of civil disobedience / political protest was "hybris". You can't defend yourself against an accusation of "hybris". I am an honest physician who engages in public debates. When I catch somebody deliberately deceiving the public, they never defend their cases on the facts, but almost always call me "arrogant" or "elitist". (If you have no case, shout "hybris!") Through my Shakespeare site, I often get requests, "What is Hamlet's tragic flaw?", etc., etc. I tell people that they're asking the wrong question, and to look instead at what the author is really saying about life.
If Aristotle and his successors had been free to speak the truth clearly, here are some points which would come up in discussion and with which most students (then and now) would probably agree.
· In our world, very bad things do sometimes happen to very good people. Your chief security comes from what people know you can do well. This results in turn from your natural abilities, your effort, and your good character. It's safest, and the best strategy, to try to be a good person.
· It's fun to be scared at shows, and to cry. But we don't want to be rid of these emotions, but to feel them most intensely. Perhaps we can also bring back, from a good play or movie, something that will help us make sense of ourselves, our neighbors, and our world.
· Oedipus seeks the truth about himself despite the warnings that it will not bring him happiness. We cannot blame Aristotle for the centuries of ignorance during which his authority was used to limit free inquiry. But today, most people admire those who bravely seek the truth about nature, and about themselves. It is a modern, rather than an Aristotelian, theme.
· Greek serious drama ("tragedy") reaches an intensity which remains unsurpassed. Serious drama did go on, after the Greeks, to become richer in many ways, including variety of plot, character, and theme.
· Much of the power of serious literature (like "tragedy", and like the comedies of Aristophanes and Shakespeare) comes from the philosophical issues which it raises. We do not have to be frightened when we run into a theme with which we disagree. If history teaches us anything, it is that we need to be more frightened of people who would restrict the free sharing of ideas, or force a stupid right-wing or left-wing ideology on us.
· Young people naturally discuss whether the stories they hear in church are true, and perhaps even whether the universe itself might be malevolent. (Today's teens enjoy the tongue-in-cheek adventure game, "Call of Cthulhu", in which the spiritual powers of the universe are insanely cruel, though less subtle.) Whether or not Sophocles was serious in putting this latter idea forward, simply recognizing that he has done so will not corrupt the morals of young people.
· Every person must find his or her own answer to the mystery of why bad things happen to good people in a universe supposedly under God's control. Yet even if people reach different conclusions, and express them freely, people can usually still live and work together in peace and good-will.
· Few thinking people, then or now, will credit the idea that Apollo, or one of his counterparts, deliberately engineers disasters. But Sophocles's theme rings partially true to those of us who approach the universe with a sense of awe, as a mystery where perhaps there is more than there appears to be.
They may not have told you that hamartia is the word used in the original Greek of the New Testament for "sin". The King James Version has 172 instances.
Jim Donahoe's essay on Oedipus's tragic flaw is no longer online. "In the end however, Oedipus becomes more humble and accepts his fate. He becomes a better person and is better off after his fall."
Oedipus's tragic flaw is "his special ability to solve riddles, his detective ability, one might say, or his intellect. Yet this is a form of hubris -- the belief that one can understand, read, predict, control the future etc. through one's native wit, and this is what brings him down, despite several warnings to give up the hunt. Reason = Apollo."
Oedipus's tragic flaw. Oedipus's problems are not caused by fate, but by his pride.
Cyber Essays to help students. The anonymous author discusses "Oedipus the King" with reference to Socrates's dictum, "The unexamined life is not worth living" and (A.A. "Winnie the Pooh" Milne's dictum) "When ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise." Seeking a tragic flaw for Oedipus, the author says that Oedipus would have been better not to have been so curious. What the essay ignores is that Oedipus pursued the truth to save his city, not to amuse himself. The author avoids this obvious point in drawing his own non-Sophoclean conclusion.
"It's better not to know." You'll hear this again from anti-science college-campus types on both the far-right and the far-left, who want to reshape society down ideological lines. You'll have to decide for yourself about this. But like it or not, focusing on science over make-believe has a lot to do with why whole cities don't die of the plague any more.
Free School Paper on Oedipus's tragic flaw.Free College Essays on Oedipus's tragic flaw.
This essay is being offered for sale by at least two websites set up for students who for whatever reason do not want to write their own papers. I have received no response to my protests.
Teachers: Click here to begin your search for online essays intended for would-be plagiarists. "Dishonesty was your tragic flaw, kid!" Good luck.
turnitin.com -- anti-plagiary software
Students: If your teacher is at all computer-savvy, and you turn in a paper that you took for free off the "web", you will be caught. Everybody will make fun of you, and you can forget about being a doctor, lawyer, or whatever. That'll be your "tragic flaw." Ha ha!
Arthur Miller wrote, "The flaw, or crack in the character [of Oedipus], is really nothing -- and need be nothing -- but his inherent unwillingness to remain passive in the face of what he conceives to be a challenge to his dignity, his image of his rightful status. Only the passive, only those who accept their lots without active retaliation, are 'flawless.' Most of us are in that category." Miller adds that "the terror and the fear that is classically associated with tragedy" comes from questioning the unquestioned. Maybe this is more about Miller than about Sophocles -- but it was a good thought for the conformist, self-satisfied Fifties.
For Oedipus Game and other cool stuff!!!
http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~loxias/myth.htm
http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~loxias/myth.htm
Enjoying "Oedipus the King", by SophoclesEd Friedlander MD erf@kcumb.edu
If you are a student assigned to read "Oedipus the King", and perhaps also to comment on Aristotle's ideas about tragedy and "tragic flaws", this site will help you get started.
Warning: This is NOT a "family" site, and Sophocles is NOT "family entertainment".
"Oedipus the King" is a monument to Sophocles's dramatic genius, and to the freedom of Athenian thought. It develops a shocking, profoundly immoral idea about a human being's ultimate relationship to the universe.
Thankfully, there is no reason to think that Sophocles's idea is true, or that Sophocles really believed it.
Commentators on Sophocles, beginning with Aristotle, have tried to cover over the obvious. This explains the nonsense about "tragic flaws" and "hybris".
If you want something nice, please leave now.
What's here?
1. The Folk Tale
2. Predestination
3. Sophocles
4. Aristotle
5. Today
1. The Folk Tale
We don't know whether there was a historical Oedipus. "Oedipus" means "swollen feet". The Greeks pronounced it "oy-DEEP-us". Oed- is the same root as "oedema / edema" (tissue swelling; the British preserve the initial "o"), while "-pus" is feet (hence "octopus", the eight-footed animal.)
Laius and Jocasta were king and queen of Thebes, a town in Greece. One day, they had a baby boy. An oracle prophesied that the boy would grow up and kill his father and marry his mother. To thwart the prophecy, Laius and Jocasta decided to kill their baby. In those days, it was usual to leave an unwanted or defective baby in the wilderness. Laius and Jocasta did this. To be extra-sure, they pierced his little feet and tied them together. (Don't worry about this detail, which makes no sense. It must have been introduced to explain the hero's name.)
A kindly shepherd found the baby. He gave the baby to a friend, who took it to Corinth, another town. (Corinth reappears in the New Testament.) The king and queen of Corinth couldn't have a baby of their own. So they adopted the foundling.
Nobody ever told little Oedipus that his mother was never pregnant. One day, after he had grown up, a drunk mentioned his being adopted. Oedipus questioned his parents, but they denied it. Oedipus visited various oracles to find out whether he was really adopted. All the oracles told him instead that he would kill his father and marry his mother. (None of this makes much sense. Again, don't worry about it. This is a folk tale.)
To thwart the oracles, Oedipus left Corinth permanently. (Again, don't worry. Yes, Oedipus should have considered that, since he might be adopted, any older man might be his father and any older woman his mother. But this is a folk tale.)
Travelling the roads, Oedipus got into a traffic squabble and killed a stranger who (unknown to him) was King Laius. In one version, there was a dispute over right-of-way on a bridge. In those days, high rank got to go first, Oedipus identified himself as heir to the throne of Corinth, and for some reason (again, don't worry about it) Laius's people simply attacked instead of explaining that he was king of Thebes. Some versions say that the rude Laius drove over Oedipus's sore foot, making him lose his temper.
Soon Oedipus's smarts saved the town of Thebes, and he was made king. (In a folk-tale within a folk-tale, Oedipus solved the Riddle of the Sphinx. "What animal has four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?" Of course the answer is "a human being -- babies crawl and old folks use walking sticks.") Oedipus married Laius's widow, Queen Jocasta. He ruled well, and they had four children.
Eventually, Oedipus and Jocasta found out what had really happened. (You must assume that accidentally killing your father and marrying your mother is a disaster.) Jocasta committed suicide, and Oedipus blinded himself and became a wandering beggar.
In the version which must have been the favorite of Sophocles's Athenian audience, Oedipus found sanctuary at Colonus, outside of Athens. The kindness he was shown at the end made the city itself blessed.
The moral of the folk tale? Even if you try to thwart your destiny, you won't succeed!
In Iliad XXIII, we read about one Mecisteus, who "went once to Thebes after the fall of Oedipus, to attend his funeral, and he beat all the people of Cadmus", evidently at boxing (funeral games) which is the subject of the passage. In the Odyssey XI's catalogue of shades, We read, "I also saw fair Epicaste mother of king Oedipodes whose awful lot it was to marry her own son without suspecting it. He married her after having killed his father, but the gods proclaimed the whole story to the world; whereon he remained king of Thebes, in great grief for the spite the gods had borne him; but Epicaste went to the house of the mighty jailor Hades, having hanged herself for grief, and the avenging spirits haunted him as for an outraged mother -- to his ruing bitterly thereafter." That's what Homer has to say about Oedipus. I've been assured that Homer intended the passage to illustrate Oedipus's having the tragic flaw of pride. I can't see what kind of sense this makes.
A NYU student found a personal meaning:
What is the moral of this story? Don't go to a fortune teller! Let life take its course. Your fate is already written and sealed. If you know all there is to know about your life, then why bother living? You'll spend the rest of your life worrying about what's to come. Embrace life and its surprises.
Story of Oedipus
Oedipus Wrecked -- humor. Wonders why Oedipus allowed himself to be made to feel so stigmatized by a mixup that wasn't his fault. "Moral of the story: Being a victim of gurus, society, and circumstances does not relieve one of the responsibility of thinking for themselves. It does make for a tragic hero, however."
Sphinxes -- and a lot on the background of the story. The author is with me on the "hamartia" business, below. Thanks for the sphinx.
2. Predestination
Long before we "got civilized", ancient Europeans (Greeks, Vikings, others) were already talking about "predestination". If something was going to happen, it would happen and there was nothing you could do about it.
Why would anybody talk like this?
1. Ancient people may have been impressed (or wanted to be impressed) by the fulfillment of prophecies. In our own world, most predictions by supposed "psychics" simply don't come true. But people want to believe in the supernatural, and people like to tell each other about the rare occasions when something happens that a psychic said would happen. So money-making "psychics" make lots of predictions and keep them vague.
People have such a strong desire to believe in the power of supernatural prediction that they even invent stories of psychic predictions being fulfilled. The most famous example (Nostradamus and the gray monk in Varennes woods) continues to be told, even though the tale of Louis XVI being disguised as a monk when he was captured there is just a lie.
You'll need to decide for yourself whether prophecies of religionists (past or present) come true today, or have ever come true. Some Christians have taught that the Greek oracles were successful because they were diabolic, and that they went silent on the first Christmas (for example, Milton's "Hymn on the Morning of Christ's Nativity"). People want to believe in oracles.
2. Believing in predestination frees people from worry. Talking about unalterable destiny is extremely popular among soldiers going into battle -- a powerful antidote to obessive fear that would slow or distract a warrior. Soldiers tell each other, "If the bullet has your name on it, you will die." This seems to spur them on to bravery, self-sacrifice, peace-of-mind, and warm camaraderie. Talk about "fate", "predestination", and so forth has found its way into warriors' tales across many cultures. In the Iliad, even Zeus (? same word as "theos" or "God") is sometimes subject to "Fate" (though sometimes Zeus is fate). We also see this in peacetime, whenever people face frightful conflict.
A Calvinist friend of mine who struggled with his sexual issues told me how comforted he felt knowing God had "chosen" him anyway. For some reason which I do not understand, he could believe in this. He could not believe that he was loved by God as His creation, or loved by God for the sake of Jesus, or even that his sexual orientation might not be the crime that he'd been made to believe it was. Again, I'm no psychiatrist, but I'm glad he could find a formulation which brought him comfort.
Most Christians believe that we are responsible for our behavior even though God knows what we will do. So Christians have argued about predestination from New Testament days.
Luke says that the people who chose Christ were predestined to do so. Dante asks the blessed souls in heaven about predestination, and is told they don't know the answer, either. Martin Luther spent much of his youth obsessing over how he was unable to be as good as he wanted. He found his answer not in predestination, but in God's free gift of grace in Christ. For him, this was a comfort and assurance. "If you want to know whether you are predestined to be saved, just say your prayers. Then you will know you are predestined for salvation." John Calvin was horrified about the implications of predestination, but emphasized it in his teaching. Other preachers like Jonathan "Spiders" Edwards and the Wesleys taught that Christ had died for everybody and that everybody had a free choice. Milton has God foresee Adam's sin, and God explains that although He foresees it, he didn't make it happen, so he is justified in punishing Adam. Racine's "Phaedra" marked a return to themes of Greek tragedy and people being the victims of cruel destiny. Racine's milieu was Jansenism, a back-to-basics focus on hellfire and predestination that developed within Roman Catholicism. Boswell, who wrote the biography of Samuel Johnson, obsessed about predestination and became profoundly depressed thinking he could end up damned eternally. He's not the only person who's had this experience. In the US, the "Free Will Baptist" denomination emphasized evangelization and need to work hard to bring others to Christ, against those who thought that God's predestination made this unnecessary.
Some Hindus and Buddhists have taught that a person's behavior in a past life predestines happiness or misery in the current one, by the laws of karma. Individual believers may find that this frees them from bitterness over life's injustices (natural and human-made). You'll need to decide for yourself whether this is good or bad. Belief in karma has awakened social conscience and kindness to strangers in those who believe that "what goes around comes around."
The theme of predestination continues in secular literature. Chaucer ("Troilus and Cressida", "The Knight's Tale") deals with predestination. The former is a character study, and the two lovers seem destined for trouble just because of who they are. Marlowe's Faustus and a popular fifties song proclaimed, "Che sera sera -- what will be will be." Ambiguous -- do we make our own decisions or not? Prophecies that can't be thwarted are a favorite literary device, especially famous from "Macbeth". Ideas about predestination are parodied in "Tristram Shandy" -- the baby is predestined to have a small nose and an ugly name despite the conscious efforts of the parents to avoid these supposed disasters. Today, fulfilled prophecies are a staple of fiction. Although the vast majority of psychic predictions in the real world are failures, they come true as plot devices on the Silver Screen.
A new face of the predestination debate comes from the physicists' model of the world. At least in Newtonian physics, if you know everything about a closed system at one moment of time, you can predict everything that will happen in the future. If our world is really like this, then physical laws predetermine what will happen in our brains, and what we will think and do. The laws of physics (ultimately) even determine our decisions about which side to take in a college bull session about "predestination versus free will."
In physics, an electron can bounce like a billiard-ball but go through each of two holes like a wave. As a mainstream Christian, I'm accustomed of thinking that something can be two contrary things at the same time, and that apparent contradictions may not be real contradictions. The Good Lord feeds the birds, but I know how birds really get their food. I give thanks to the Good Lord for the birth of a child, but nobody requests equal time for "stork science". I know how I get sick and how I recover, and thank the Good Lord for my recovery. The bread and wine are Christ's body and blood -- I don't know how. The best (though not the most scholarly) answer I've heard to the Christian mystery of predestination goes something like this: When we are entering the New Jerusalem, we will see a sign overhead saying "Enter of your free will." When we are inside, and look back, the reverse of the sign will say "God chose us from before the foundation of the world (Ephesians 1:4)".
The folk tale of Oedipus has a popular theme -- predestination.
Sigmund Freud and the "Oedipus complex" aren't the subject of this site. Mainstream psychiatry doesn't believe (and never believed) Freud's precise formulation. Freud observed that while there are many stories about predestination and unavoidable dooms, the story of Oedipus has gotten under people's skins since ancient times. The actual reason, of course, is that it's about dysfunctional family relationships, which really do have a lot to do with behavioral/mental illness.
Sophocles wrote "Oedipus the King" for the annual festival where playwrights competed for prizes. It was a major civic occasion, with attendance expected.
Sophocles the writer is phenomenally good, especially considering his era. His writing is tight, with each phrase contributing to the whole. He is full of succinct observations on life. And despite the limits of the form, he often manages to make his characters seem like real individuals.
The title of our play is often given in its Latin translation "Oedipus Rex", rather than in its original Greek ("Oedipus Tyranneus"), since the Greek term for king is the English "tyrant" which means a monarch who rules without the consent of the people.
As the play opens, the priest of Zeus and a bunch of non-speaking characters (old people, children) appear before King Oedipus with tree-branches wrapped with wool. It was evidently the custom to do this in front of a god's altar when you wanted something urgently.
Oedipus greets them as a caring, compassionate leader. The priest explains (really for the audience's benefit) that Thebes is suffering from a plague. Plants, animals, and people are all dying. The people know Oedipus is not a god, but they believe that some god inspired him to solve the riddle of the sphinx and save the town. And since Oedipus has been king, he has done a splendid job. So now people look to him to find a cure for the plague.
Oedipus explains (really for the audience's benefit) that he has sent Creon (Jocasta's brother) to the oracle of the god Apollo at Delphi to get an answer. He's late returning, but as soon as he gets back, Oedipus promises to do whatever the oracle says.
Just then, Creon arrives. Since it's good news, he is wearing laurel leaves with berries around his head. Creon says, "All's well that ends well." (I'm told that the Greeks loved irony.) Apollo said that the killer of Laius must be found and banished, and the plague will end. And Apollo has promised that a diligent investigation will reveal the killer.
Oedipus asks to review the facts. All that is known is that Laius left for Delphi and never returned. (Don't ask what Oedipus did with the bodies of Laius and his crew.) There was no immediate investigation, because of the sphinx problem. One of Laius's men escaped, and walked back to Thebes. (Don't ask what Oedipus did with Laius's horses and chariot.) By the time he got back, Oedipus was being hailed as king. The witness said Laius was killed by a gang of robbers. (We can already figure out why the witness lied. And we'll learn later that he asked immediately to be transferred away from Thebes, and has been gone ever since.)
Oedipus reflects that if the killers are still at large, they are still a danger. He decides to issue a policy statement to help find the killer.
The chorus, in a song, calls on the various gods (including Triple Artemis, in her aspects as huntress, moon-goddess, and goddess of dark sorcery), to save them from the plague and from the evil god Ares, who is ordinarily the god of war but is here the god of general mass death.
Oedipus issues a policy statement, that whoever comes forward with information about the murder of Laius will be rewarded, and that if the killer himself confesses, he will not be punished beyond having to leave the city permanently. On the other hand, if anyone conceals the killer, Oedipus says he will be cursed. Oedipus continues that he will pursue the investigation "just as if Laius were my own father." (Irony.)
The Chorus says that Apollo ought to come right out and say who the murderer is. (The Chorus's job is to say what ordinary people think.) Oedipus says, "Nobody can make the gods do what they don't want to." The chorus suggests bringing in the blind psychic, Teiresias. Especially, they hope he can find the missing witness to the killing. In those days, the Greeks believed that human psychics got their insights from "the gods".
There are other stories about Teiresias. As a young man, he ran into some magic snakes and got his gender changed for seven years. This enabled him to tell whether the male or the female enjoys sex more. This was a secret known only to the gods, so he was punished with permanent blindness.
Teiresias comes in. Oedipus asks his help finding the killers, ending up by saying, "The greatest thing you can do with your life is to use all your special talents to help others unselfishly."
Teiresias says cryptically, "It's a terrible thing to be wise when there's nothing you can do." (As A.A. Milne would say later, and perhaps Oedipus too, "When ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise.")
Teiresias says, "I want to go home." Oedipus calls him unpatriotic. Teiresias says, "Your words are wide of the mark (hamartia)". Our expression in English is "You're missing the point". (Originally an archery target was a point.) We'll hear about hamartia again.
Teiresias continues to stonewall, and Oedipus gets very angry. Finally Teiresias gives in, says Oedipus is the killer, and adds that he is "living in shame with his closest relative."
Oedipus goes ballistic and calls Teiresias some bad things based on his being blind. (Irony.) Teiresias says, "You'll see soon." Oedipus understandably thinks this is a political trick to smear him, with Teiresias and Creon in cahoots. Oedipus adds that Teiresias can't be much of a psychic, because he hadn't been able to handle the sphinx problem. The Chorus tells both men to cool down. Teiresias leaves, predicting disaster. Soon Oedipus will learn the truth and be a blind exile, leaning on his staff.
The Chorus sings about the oracle at Delphi, which was supposedly the center of the world. "Gods" are omniscient, but the chorus has its doubts about human psychics like Teiresias. Especially, they cannot believe Oedipus is a killer.
Creon comes in, incensed that Oedipus would accuse him of trying to smear him. The Chorus says Oedipus is simply angry. Creon says he must be nuts. The Chorus says that to the king's faults and misbehavior, they are blind. ("See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" -- the norm in a non-democracy.) Oedipus comes in and accuses Creon directly of planning a coup, using a smear by a crooked psychic as an excuse. They exchange angry words. Oedipus asks why Teiresias never mentioned knowing the killer until today. Creon can't explain this. He defends himself from the accusation of planning a coup. (1) Being king is too much trouble. (2) Creon has other worthwhile things to do. (3) Creon has everything he needs. (4) Creon has political influence anyway. (5) Creon is well-liked and isn't going to do an obvious wrong. "You build a good reputation over a lifetime. A single bad action ruins it." Irony.
Oedipus isn't satisfied. He says he wants Creon executed for treason. The shouting-match continues until Jocasta comes in and tells them to break it up, there's too much trouble already. The Chorus says it agrees, and tells Jocasta that both men are at fault.
Creon leaves, and Jocasta asks what's happened. The Chorus talks about what a fine king Oedipus has been, and says, "Let's forget the whole business with Teiresias's prophecy." The Chorus uses a variant of the proverb, "Let sleeping dogs lie." It's better not to ask about things that can make trouble. Irony.
Oedipus talks about it anyway. Jocasta says, "Well, I don't believe in psychics. I'll prove it. Laius and I were told that our baby would kill him and marry me. But this never happened, because we left the baby to die in the woods. And the witness said that Laius was killed at that place where three roads meet by robbers."
"Uh-oh", says Oedipus. "Which three roads?" Irony.
Jocasta says, "It's where the roads from Thebes, Delphi, and Daulis meet. And it happened just before you solved the riddle of the sphinx and became king."
Oedipus is upset. He asks Zeus (chief god), "What are you doing to me?" He asks Jocasta for a description. Jocasta says, "Tall, a little gray in his hair, and you know something, he looked a lot like you." Irony.
Oedipus continues his questioning. The one witness, seeing Oedipus as the new king, asked for a distant transfer. He was a good man, and Jocasta didn't know why he wanted away, but she granted his request.
Oedipus tells his story. He was going to the oracles to find out whether he was adopted. All of them told him simply that he would kill his father and marry his mother. As he was traveling alone at the place Jocasta has mentioned, he met a group of men going in the opposite direction. The men, including the leader, started insulting him. Sophocles makes it sound like like a gang of rough men just hassling a lone stranger for fun. One of the men shoved Oedipus. Oedipus punched him back. The leader struck Oedipus treacherously on the back of the head with the horse staff, Oedipus turned and hit the leader in the chest with his own staff, knocking him out of the chariot. Then Oedipus managed to kill them all except for the one who ran away.
It was justifiable, self-defense. But Oedipus is devastated. He says he must be the killer of Laius, and he is ashamed that he has been having sex with his victim's wife. Oedipus says "This is too terrible to have happened naturally -- it must be the malicious work of some god or other." He says he will simply leave the city, now, and let the plague end. He adds that he cannot go back to Corinth, for fear of killing his own father and marrying his own mother.
The Chorus is deeply sympathetic to Oedipus, and appreciative of his willingness to go voluntarily into exile to save the city. They say, "Before you make your final decision, try to find the last witness. Maybe he will exonerate you." And Oedipus notes, "The witness did say it was robbers, plural."
Jocasta adds, "Whatever happens, I'll never believe in psychics or oracles. Laius was prophesied to die by the hand of his own child."
The Chorus sings a puzzling song about how (1) we have to obey the gods; (2) the gods's best gift is good government; (3) if the government is bad, there is no reason to be good; (4) nobody believes in oracles any more.
Jocasta comes in, having visited the local shrines and left little offerings, and asks people to join her in praying for the distraught Oedipus. He's our leader, and we need him now. She prays to Apollo to make this disastrous situation better. Irony.
Just then, a messenger comes in from Corinth. He says "Lucky Jocasta, you lucky wife!" (Actually, "Blessed is your marriage bed!" Irony.) The king of Corinth has died, and the Corinthians have chosen Oedipus to be their new king. (Greek city-states were often elective monarchies.) Jocasta says, "Great news. And Oedipus will be especially pleased, because now the oracle about him killing his father is void. You see, I was right not to believe in oracles." Irony.
Oedipus comes in, hears the news, and says, "Maybe the oracle has been fulfilled figuratively; perhaps he died of grief for my absence. But I'm still worried about marrying my mother." Jocasta says, "Forget it. Life is governed by chance, not destiny. Maybe you'll dream about marrying your mother. You should ignore dreams." Oedipus is still worried. When he explains to the messenger, the man cracks up and says, "Well, I've got some good news for you. You don't have to worry about marrying the lady you've called mother... because you're adopted!"
All hell breaks loose. Oedipus questions the messenger, and learns the messenger had been herding sheep, had met a shepherd who had found Oedipus, had taken the baby, had taken the pin out of his ankles, and had given him to the king and queen of Corinth to raise as their own. Oedipus is starting to wonder about what has always been wrong with his feet.
Oedipus says, "It's time to clear this up. Send for the other shepherd." Jocasta realizes exactly what has happened. Jocasta begs Oedipus NOT to pursue the matter. Oedipus says he has to know. (If Oedipus wasn't so intent on getting to the truth, there'd be no play.) Jocasta runs out horribly upset. Oedipus is a little slower, and thinks, "Perhaps she's upset to find out I'm not really of royal blood. But what the heck -- I'm 'Destiny's child' -- and that's something to be proud of! I'm me." Irony.
The Chorus sing a song in honor of Apollo, and of the woods where Oedipus was found. The say the spot will become famous. Perhaps Oedipus is the child of nymphs and satyrs. Irony.
The other shepherd is brought in. He already has figured things out, and pretends he doesn't remember. Then he begs the other messenger to be quiet. But Oedipus insists on the truth. It comes out. Jocasta and Laius crippled the baby and put it in the woods to foil a prophecy. Oedipus had, indeed, always wondered what was wrong with his feet. Now everybody knows the truth. Oedipus rushes out.
The Chorus sings a song about how transient happiness is, what a splendid king Oedipus has been, and how Oedipus is now the victim of destiny.
The next scene is an extremely graphic account, by an eyewitness. Jocasta ran into the bedroom, screaming. She locked the door from inside. A few minutes later, Oedipus came in, and broke down the door with what seemed to be supernatural strength. He found Jocasta dead, hanging. Oedipus took the body down, then removed the pin that held up her dress. He stabbed it again and again into his eyes, saying he has looked at his mother's naked body when he shouldn't, and he has learned what he now wishes he hadn't. The blood didn't merely dribble, as after a single needlestick. It gushed on both sides. For this to happen, the choroidal artery that enters the eye from behind must be severed. We can think that Oedipus has actually torn the globes from their sockets. Oedipus now begs to be taken out of the city (so that the plague will end), but he has no strength and no guide.
Oedipus comes in. Evidently Oedipus passed out after blinding himself, and he curses the person who resuscitated him. The Chorus asks, "How were you able to rip out your eyeballs?" Oedipus replies, "Apollo gave me the strength to do it."
Creon is the new king. He is not angry, merely kind. He helps Oedipus up and out of the city, guided by his two daughters. Staff in hand, Oedipus himself is the answer to the riddle of the sphinx. Oedipus says that some incredible destiny must surely await him. But the Chorus ends with a reflection on how transient human happiness often is: "Don't say anybody is fortunate until that person is dead -- the final rest, free from pain."
What is Sophocles saying?
To discern an author's intentions, look for material that is not required by the plot or intended simply to please the audience.
In retelling the story of Oedipus, Sophocles goes beyond mere irony.
· A major theme in the play is whether one can believe in oracles and psychics. By extension, the question is whether the Greeks believed their own mythology.
· Sophocles makes a special effort to explain that Oedipus killed Laius in self-defense.
· More generally, Sophocles goes out of his way to present Oedipus as an extremely capable, beloved administrator. Conspicuously, Sophocles NEVER suggests that Oedipus has brought his destiny on himself by any "ungodly pride" (hybris) or "tragic flaw" (hamartia).
· The last lines seem ambiguous. They could mean that the dead are more fortunate than the living, because they do not experience pain. Is life really that bad?
· "The gods" made the prophecies that led Oedipus into disaster. The sphinx appeared (she must have been sent by the gods), and Oedipus solved her riddle (the chorus says he must have been guided by the gods.) Teiresias could not solve the riddle, or detect the killer -- thanks to "the gods". At the beginning, Apollo's oracle simply says, "Find the killer" -- leading to the cruel ironies of the play. Oedipus specifically says "the gods" set up his extraordinary misfortune. And at the end, Apollo merely gives Oedipus the strength to carve his own eyes out of their sockets.
· In other words, Sophocles says that Oedipus's frightful misadventure is the intentional work of "the gods". At the end, everybody says this. Pure and simple. Nobody even asks why.
The Golden Age of Athens was a time for thinkers, scientists, inventors, and for people to share ideas freely. Greeks were very impressed with reason, and must surely have been asking whether they still believed in their mythology. "Social conservatives" prosecuted Socrates for expressing doubts about "the gods", but only because they thought this would corrupt the minds of young people. (Does this sound familiar?)
People have often noted that comedy and melodrama have arisen independently in many cultures, but that tragedy has its unique beginnings in Athens's golden age -- the first time that we hear people asking the tough questions about what they really believed.
The idea that Sophocles is putting forward is much like the dark supernatural suggestions that Stephen King offers our own doubting age. Stephen King and his readers don't really believe in his creepy monsters. And I don't know whether Sophocles really believed the message of "Oedipus the King".
Sophocles is saying, "Maybe the gods do exist... and are consciously and elaborately MALICIOUS. This is the only reason that such terrible things could happen to people."
Aristotle's Poetics are lecture notes on poetry, with a focus on tragedy. Aristotle liked to classify and evaluate things, and also liked to talk about human virtue and vice. Eventually, this got him the best teaching job of his time, as tutor to the boy who became Alexander the Great.
Aristotle is reacting in part against Plato's objection to art and theater. Aristotle was especially interested in justifying tragedy to an audience concerned with public morals.
I am quoting below from the translation of the Poetics by S.H. Barber.
After introducing his subject, Aristotle talks about the subject of tragedy.
Since the objects of imitation are men in action, and these men must be either of a higher or a lower type (for moral character mainly answers to these divisions, goodness and badness being the distinguishing marks of moral differences), it follows that we must represent men either as better than in real life, or as worse, or as they are. It is the same in painting. Polygnotus depicted men as nobler than they are, Pauson as less noble, Dionysius drew them true to life. -- II
In other words, when you paint or play a person, you can idealize him, you can lampoon him, or you can try for realism. Aristotle continues...
The same distinction marks off Tragedy from Comedy; for Comedy aims at representing men as worse, Tragedy as better than in actual life. -- II
Aristotle means both better-spoken and of better moral character. Aristotle goes on to explain why people make poetry in the first place. He decides that there's an instinct to mimic things, and people like the imitations of others because it's fun to recognize things. He continues...
Poetry now diverged in two directions, according to the individual character of the writers. The graver spirits imitated noble actions, and the actions of good men. The more trivial sort imitated the actions of meaner persons, at first composing satires, as the former did hymns to the gods and the praises of famous men. -- IV
Aristotle adds that the tragedians were the successors of the epic poets, who also focused on high and noble deeds.
Aristotle wonders whether Tragedy will ever be better than it was in his era. He tells about its origins in improvisation, and its recent history.
Aeschylus first introduced a second actor; he diminished the importance of the Chorus, and assigned the leading part to the dialogue. Sophocles raised the number of actors to three, and added scene-painting. -- IV
Originally, tragedies were songs sung by a chorus. Then one member would take the role of a character. Aeschylus added a second speaking part apart from the chorus. Sophocles added a third, and introduced stage scenery.
Now Aristotle moves into the famous definition of tragedy.
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. -- VI
Tragedy must be a unified story, about something important. Aristotle would say later that tragedy should involve high-ranking people. He doesn't give any reason that makes sense. Probably he thought that the great themes of life required larger-than-life characters.
Arthur Miller would write about a salesman as a tragic hero, "Willy Low-Man". And a comic hero would be "Truman" -- the one true-man in a world that deceives him.
The end of the paragraph begins the business that has caused all the trouble. "Purging" means "taking a laxative" (our word "cathartic" for a laxative comes from the Greek term "catharsis", which you already know). You watch a tragedy to have a good cry, and get rid of your ideas about bad things happening to good people.
Every Tragedy, therefore, must have six parts, which parts determine its quality- namely, Plot, Character, Diction, Thought, Spectacle, Song. -- VI
Aristotle goes on to explain what these are.
· Plot: the story; the good ones focus on a single episode.
· Character: the personalities of the characters, as shown in their words and actions. (Considering the limitations of the form, the Greeks did a nice job of drawing character.)
· Diction: the right choice of words. Aristotle points out how effective using just the right word can be.
· Thought: Arguments and exposition. Aristotle compares it to rhetoric.
· Spectacle: as we'd say, "special effects". Not so much the poet's business as the stage-specialist's.
· Song: words joined to music.
What is missing? Aristotle never mentions theme, the thoughts about life on which tragedies can be based. Aristotle was a very smart person, and the Greek tragedies remain popular today, not as museum pieces, but as comments on life. Yet Aristotle is silent on this important element of tragedy.
As you continue to study literature, you'll constantly look for themes. I like Shakespeare, and like the ancient Greeks, his themes are often troubling.
Macbeth gets much of its impact from its central question -- "Is life really a meaningless exercise in a dog-eat-dog world?"
Hamlet focuses on the phoniness and meanness of human society. Hamlet starts by wishing he was dead. At the end, he comes to terms with life as many modern secularists do, deciding to live well in an unfair world.
The themes of Romeo and Juliet were radical in Shakespeare's time. Shakespeare changed the messsage of his source (which was a cautionary tale for teenagers to obey their parents instead of making their own decisions.) Young people should be allowed to choose their own husbands and wives. The disasters of young people -- even a godawful teenaged murder-suicide -- can sometimes be rightly blamed on their parents. And love gives happiness and dignity even in the worst circumstances.
Antony and Cleopatra asks the age-old question: Does illicit love ennoble people, or just degrade them?
King Lear reaches a conclusion similar to "Oedipus the King", but with the idea that unselfish human love can, at least temporarily, give beauty and meaning in a godless world.
Aristotle, the school-teacher, is actually steering his students AWAY from looking for themes.
Aristotle goes on to say that the plot is best kept unified, without subplots, and the action not covering more then 24 hours. Subjects from mythology are traditional but not mandatory. (Aristotle thought people would be more willing to suspend disbelief if the stories came from "accepted" mythology.) If there are to be coincidences, they should seem to make sense.
But again, Tragedy is an imitation not only of a complete action, but of events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at the same time, they follow as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will then be greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident; for even coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design. We may instance the statue of Mitys at Argos, which fell upon his murderer while he was a spectator at a festival, and killed him. Such events seem not to be due to mere chance. Plots, therefore, constructed on these principles are necessarily the best. -- IX
Coincidences are crowd-pleasers, and people are willing to suspend disbelief in them. (People want to believe in magic.) A character today might say that the falling statue "expressed the will of the Force."
Aristotle launches into a big discussion about "simple" vs. "complex" plots. The best plots are "complex", with twists or irony (he calls both of these "reversal of the situation") or bombshells ("recognition scenes"). Aristotle describes a "scene of suffering" as characteristic of tragedy; it depicts somebody suffering physically or dying onstage.
A perfect tragedy should, as we have seen, be arranged not on the simple but on the complex plan. It should, moreover, imitate actions which excite pity and fear, this being the distinctive mark of tragic imitation. It follows plainly, in the first place, that the change of fortune presented must not be the spectacle of a virtuous man brought from prosperity to adversity: for this moves neither pity nor fear; it merely shocks us. Nor, again, that of a bad man passing from adversity to prosperity: for nothing can be more alien to the spirit of Tragedy; it possesses no single tragic quality; it neither satisfies the moral sense nor calls forth pity or fear. Nor, again, should the downfall of the utter villain be exhibited. A plot of this kind would, doubtless, satisfy the moral sense, but it would inspire neither pity nor fear; for pity is aroused by unmerited misfortune, fear by the misfortune of a man like ourselves. Such an event, therefore, will be neither pitiful nor terrible. There remains, then, the character between these two extremes- that of a man who is not eminently good and just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty. He must be one who is highly renowned and prosperous -- a personage like Oedipus, Thyestes, or other illustrious men of such families. -- XIII
This passage continues to cause problems. Plays about bad people ending up happy don't satisfy Aristotle. ("Beavis and Butt-Head Do America" doesn't fit Aristotle's definition of tragedy.) Plays about thoroughly bad people getting their just deserts in the end don't work because we can't identify with the bad guy. ("Richard III" doesn't fit Aristotle's definition of a tragedy, either.) Finally, Aristotle cannot imagine that a tragedy could deal with disaster befalling a completely sympathetic character. He says this would merely shock us.
But "Oedipus the King" DOES shock us, and is intended to do so. Why is Aristotle avoiding the obvious? We'll soon see.
A well-constructed plot should, therefore, be single in its issue, rather than double as some maintain. The change of fortune should be not from bad to good, but, reversely, from good to bad. It should come about as the result not of vice, but of some great error or frailty, in a character either such as we have described, or better rather than worse. The practice of the stage bears out our view. -- XIII
By double plots, Aristotle is referring to serious plays that have a disaster in the middle, but a happy ending. Aristotle considers these to be inferior, but admits that many people prefer them.
In the second rank comes the kind of tragedy which some place first. Like the Odyssey, it has a double thread of plot, and also an opposite catastrophe for the good and for the bad. It is accounted the best because of the weakness of the spectators; for the poet is guided in what he writes by the wishes of his audience. The pleasure, however, thence derived is not the true tragic pleasure. It is proper rather to Comedy, where those who, in the piece, are the deadliest enemies -- like Orestes and Aegisthus -- quit the stage as friends at the close, and no one slays or is slain. -- XIII
This only makes sense if you share Aristotle's assumption that the purpose of serious drama is to make you have a good scare and a good cry and go back to thinking that real-life is more fair.
Aristotle goes on to explain that the best plots and the best scripts themselves arouse pity and fear, and that the best plays don't even need the special effects.
Fear and pity may be aroused by spectacular means; but they may also result from the inner structure of the piece, which is the better way, and indicates a superior poet. For the plot ought to be so constructed that, even without the aid of the eye, he who hears the tale told will thrill with horror and melt to pity at what takes place. This is the impression we should receive from hearing the story of the Oedipus. -- XIV
Aristotle goes on...
Let us then determine what are the circumstances which strike us as terrible or pitiful. -- XIV
They are aroused especially when people kill friends or family. The killer may or may not know what he/she is doing. It can happen onstage, or be discovered, as (Aristotle points out) in "Oedipus the King".
Aristotle was a product of his times.
In respect of Character there are four things to be aimed at. First, and most important, it must be good. Now any speech or action that manifests moral purpose of any kind will be expressive of character: the character will be good if the purpose is good. This rule is relative to each class. Even a woman may be good, and also a slave; though the woman may be said to be an inferior being, and the slave quite worthless. The second thing to aim at is propriety. There is a type of manly valor; but valor in a woman, or unscrupulous cleverness is inappropriate. -- XV
We do not have to be left-wing activists or injustice-collectors to despise this kind of sexism and classism. But the truth is that on the Greek stage, the women are as interesting, sympathetic, intelligent and brave as the men -- an obvious fact which Aristotle ignores.
Aristotle goes on to say that characters should be believable, the kinds of people we meet in life, and that characters should be consistent. Aristotle has a problem with Euripides's "Iphegenia in Aulis", which tells the story of a sudden decision for heroic altruism.
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. -- XIX
Not themes.
Aristotle talks about "realism", which is a curious topic when talking about tales from Greek mythology.
Further, if it be objected that the description is not true to fact, the poet may perhaps reply, "But the objects are as they ought to be"; just as Sophocles said that he drew men as they ought to be; Euripides, as they are. In this way the objection may be met. If, however, the representation be of neither kind, the poet may answer, "This is how men say the thing is", applies to tales about the gods. It may well be that these stories are not higher than fact nor yet true to fact: they are, very possibly, what Xenophanes says of them. -- XXV
Xenophanes came out and said it -- the tales of Greek Mythology are fiction. Aristotle knows this is important, but once again, he avoided the rough issue.
Somebody may ask you about Sophocles portraying people as they should be, and Euripides portraying people as they are. Sophocles shows Oedipus as gracious, capable, and altruistic. Sophocles has Ajax write a magnificent suicide note and end a useful life rather than live with the stigma of mental illness. Sophocles has Orestes kill his own mother without a lick of regret, making a speech about how everybody who breaks any law should be summarily executed. Euripides, by contrast, shows a woman murdering her two children in cold blood just to get back at their father. You can have fun examining this further.
I think I understand.
Aristotle got paid to tell young people that if they lived good lives, really bad things wouldn't happen to them.
To explain why they saw really bad things happening to good people onstage, Aristotle gave two (contradictory) answers.
1. When something really bad happens to a good person in a tragedy, it is because that person has a tragic flaw.
2. When something really bad happens to a good person in a tragedy, it is just make-believe. It is so you can have a good scare and a good cry. This gets these emotions out of your system. You can go back to the real world, where life is fair.
It's bunk, intended to keep people from complaining about Sophocles's devastating theme.
Aristotle may have been the first schoolteacher to smokescreen Sophocles's message that the gods are maybe malicious. He may have thought he was right to do so. Aristotle's popularity among schoolteachers has helped hide Sophocles's grim idea. Even today, students are forced to write essays about "tragic flaws" and "purging pity and fear".
Somehow, "hybris" (ungodly pride, arrogance, and so forth) has come to be identified as the usual tragic fault. I cannot understand why -- the idea does not seem to be Aristotle's. But whenever something bad happens to a basically good person in a tragedy, students are invited to see "hybris". ("Hubris" is the same word; the Greek letter "upsilon" looks like our "Y" and is its origin, but the sound was more like the "uhh" that I make when I have no idea what to say.) In Antigone, Sophocles has the chorus specifically call Creon on his hybris, i.e., his impious decree "intended to promote national security".
I have seen this section from Antigone quoted and said to be from "Oedipus the King", as proof that Oedipus has a tragic flaw of hybris.
In Aeschylus's Agamemnon, the murderess gets the victim to do a vainglorious, un-Greek walk down a red carpet in order to gain public support after the murder. Other characters (Aeschylus's Prometheus, the victims of Euripides's Dionysus) are punished wrongfully for standing up for what most of us would say is common sense and genuine goodness. It is hard to generalize this. Interestingly, I can't find the idea of "hybris" in Aristotle's "Poetics".
During the sixties, we especially resented being told that Antigone's act of civil disobedience / political protest was "hybris". You can't defend yourself against an accusation of "hybris". I am an honest physician who engages in public debates. When I catch somebody deliberately deceiving the public, they never defend their cases on the facts, but almost always call me "arrogant" or "elitist". (If you have no case, shout "hybris!") Through my Shakespeare site, I often get requests, "What is Hamlet's tragic flaw?", etc., etc. I tell people that they're asking the wrong question, and to look instead at what the author is really saying about life.
If Aristotle and his successors had been free to speak the truth clearly, here are some points which would come up in discussion and with which most students (then and now) would probably agree.
· In our world, very bad things do sometimes happen to very good people. Your chief security comes from what people know you can do well. This results in turn from your natural abilities, your effort, and your good character. It's safest, and the best strategy, to try to be a good person.
· It's fun to be scared at shows, and to cry. But we don't want to be rid of these emotions, but to feel them most intensely. Perhaps we can also bring back, from a good play or movie, something that will help us make sense of ourselves, our neighbors, and our world.
· Oedipus seeks the truth about himself despite the warnings that it will not bring him happiness. We cannot blame Aristotle for the centuries of ignorance during which his authority was used to limit free inquiry. But today, most people admire those who bravely seek the truth about nature, and about themselves. It is a modern, rather than an Aristotelian, theme.
· Greek serious drama ("tragedy") reaches an intensity which remains unsurpassed. Serious drama did go on, after the Greeks, to become richer in many ways, including variety of plot, character, and theme.
· Much of the power of serious literature (like "tragedy", and like the comedies of Aristophanes and Shakespeare) comes from the philosophical issues which it raises. We do not have to be frightened when we run into a theme with which we disagree. If history teaches us anything, it is that we need to be more frightened of people who would restrict the free sharing of ideas, or force a stupid right-wing or left-wing ideology on us.
· Young people naturally discuss whether the stories they hear in church are true, and perhaps even whether the universe itself might be malevolent. (Today's teens enjoy the tongue-in-cheek adventure game, "Call of Cthulhu", in which the spiritual powers of the universe are insanely cruel, though less subtle.) Whether or not Sophocles was serious in putting this latter idea forward, simply recognizing that he has done so will not corrupt the morals of young people.
· Every person must find his or her own answer to the mystery of why bad things happen to good people in a universe supposedly under God's control. Yet even if people reach different conclusions, and express them freely, people can usually still live and work together in peace and good-will.
· Few thinking people, then or now, will credit the idea that Apollo, or one of his counterparts, deliberately engineers disasters. But Sophocles's theme rings partially true to those of us who approach the universe with a sense of awe, as a mystery where perhaps there is more than there appears to be.
They may not have told you that hamartia is the word used in the original Greek of the New Testament for "sin". The King James Version has 172 instances.
Jim Donahoe's essay on Oedipus's tragic flaw is no longer online. "In the end however, Oedipus becomes more humble and accepts his fate. He becomes a better person and is better off after his fall."
Oedipus's tragic flaw is "his special ability to solve riddles, his detective ability, one might say, or his intellect. Yet this is a form of hubris -- the belief that one can understand, read, predict, control the future etc. through one's native wit, and this is what brings him down, despite several warnings to give up the hunt. Reason = Apollo."
Oedipus's tragic flaw. Oedipus's problems are not caused by fate, but by his pride.
Cyber Essays to help students. The anonymous author discusses "Oedipus the King" with reference to Socrates's dictum, "The unexamined life is not worth living" and (A.A. "Winnie the Pooh" Milne's dictum) "When ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise." Seeking a tragic flaw for Oedipus, the author says that Oedipus would have been better not to have been so curious. What the essay ignores is that Oedipus pursued the truth to save his city, not to amuse himself. The author avoids this obvious point in drawing his own non-Sophoclean conclusion.
"It's better not to know." You'll hear this again from anti-science college-campus types on both the far-right and the far-left, who want to reshape society down ideological lines. You'll have to decide for yourself about this. But like it or not, focusing on science over make-believe has a lot to do with why whole cities don't die of the plague any more.
Free School Paper on Oedipus's tragic flaw.Free College Essays on Oedipus's tragic flaw.
This essay is being offered for sale by at least two websites set up for students who for whatever reason do not want to write their own papers. I have received no response to my protests.
Teachers: Click here to begin your search for online essays intended for would-be plagiarists. "Dishonesty was your tragic flaw, kid!" Good luck.
turnitin.com -- anti-plagiary software
Students: If your teacher is at all computer-savvy, and you turn in a paper that you took for free off the "web", you will be caught. Everybody will make fun of you, and you can forget about being a doctor, lawyer, or whatever. That'll be your "tragic flaw." Ha ha!
Arthur Miller wrote, "The flaw, or crack in the character [of Oedipus], is really nothing -- and need be nothing -- but his inherent unwillingness to remain passive in the face of what he conceives to be a challenge to his dignity, his image of his rightful status. Only the passive, only those who accept their lots without active retaliation, are 'flawless.' Most of us are in that category." Miller adds that "the terror and the fear that is classically associated with tragedy" comes from questioning the unquestioned. Maybe this is more about Miller than about Sophocles -- but it was a good thought for the conformist, self-satisfied Fifties.
For Oedipus Game and other cool stuff!!!
http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~loxias/myth.htm
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