“What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba that he should weep for her?” ~ Hamlet, Hamlet
Today, we will talk about pity and fear, the two aims of the Greek dramatist. And another exercise in creepy paralells to modern life. Notes on my worksheet indicate that this lesson was on the morning after the Tennant departure announcement, so you'll understand a whole hour on the pleasures of being sad at fiction struck a very loud chord.
The Greek audience drew chief pleasure from sympathy with characters, who would all be drawn from myth. They typically got very involved, and there are many sources indicating the ultimate joy for both actors and audiences would be to end up in tears. “In the midst of being joyful they weep” as Plato put it in one example.
There is an importance to the fiction element. The play Capture of Miletus, based on contemporary events, also made the entire audience cry - and was banned for being too close to home.
This pleasure in crying was apparently the chief point of theatre. St Augustine wrote about Warriors of the Deep, when he discussed Peter Davison’s final season* in his Confessions:
As myths were seen as the distillation of human nature, the other aim of Greek drama was as cautionary tales. Several lines from Aristophanes in Frogs – “young children have a teacher who guides them, adults have poets” “we make people better members of their communities”, “in the hope of inspiring every man in the citizen-body to measure up to their standard every time he hears the sound of the trumpet”. “taught them always to be eager to defeat their opponents”
And the opposite, as Aristophanes discusses the real life implications of Tarantino's violent and immoral movies in real life**, “what evils is he not responsible for?”
Greek dramatists often pointed out the moral or didactic content of their plays. Sophocles' Philoctetes asks the audience:
And that's far from the only example. Myths tend to depict the mutability of human fate and mortal vulnerability. A slightly warped example of this is the idea of drama as schadenfreude. Timocles describes it in Women in the Dionysia:
Or Libanus, on Behalf of the Dancers, claims powerfully:
Cute theory, but I'm not sure this works. Tends to make me feel even more wretched.
Generally, the chorus would deliver this exposition. A little on the chorus, who was there to dance and sing between scenes. But literally placed between the stage and audience, their role was to tell the audience how to react: a little like those "applause!" and "boo!" cards.
Pity mixed with fear governed the audience - in short, the Athenians were upset by the image and idea of characters suffering, and it might do you well to notice that nothing has changed in a millenia. Aristotle believes on this front that pity for suffering comes from our fear that it will happen to us. At the time, my notes read "I disagree with this". In the cold light of day, however, I think the basic root of sympathy is in selfishness.
All this weeping and terror lead to the basic objective of tragedy: catharsis. A hard to translate concept, which approximates a purging or purification through fear and pity. Maybe it's like when you've been worrying so much and sob, and when you stop you feel fine.
At this point, I stopped taking notes. It was a bad day.
*not technically true.
** also not exactly correct
Today, we will talk about pity and fear, the two aims of the Greek dramatist. And another exercise in creepy paralells to modern life. Notes on my worksheet indicate that this lesson was on the morning after the Tennant departure announcement, so you'll understand a whole hour on the pleasures of being sad at fiction struck a very loud chord.
The Greek audience drew chief pleasure from sympathy with characters, who would all be drawn from myth. They typically got very involved, and there are many sources indicating the ultimate joy for both actors and audiences would be to end up in tears. “In the midst of being joyful they weep” as Plato put it in one example.
There is an importance to the fiction element. The play Capture of Miletus, based on contemporary events, also made the entire audience cry - and was banned for being too close to home.
This pleasure in crying was apparently the chief point of theatre. St Augustine wrote about Warriors of the Deep, when he discussed Peter Davison’s final season* in his Confessions:
“what is the reason that a spectator desires to be made sad when he beholds
doleful and tragic scenes which he himself could not endure to suffer? Yet for
all that, he desires to experience sorrow from such spectacles and this sorrow
becomes his pleasure. What is all this but a strange insanity?”
As myths were seen as the distillation of human nature, the other aim of Greek drama was as cautionary tales. Several lines from Aristophanes in Frogs – “young children have a teacher who guides them, adults have poets” “we make people better members of their communities”, “in the hope of inspiring every man in the citizen-body to measure up to their standard every time he hears the sound of the trumpet”. “taught them always to be eager to defeat their opponents”
And the opposite, as Aristophanes discusses the real life implications of Tarantino's violent and immoral movies in real life**, “what evils is he not responsible for?”
Greek dramatists often pointed out the moral or didactic content of their plays. Sophocles' Philoctetes asks the audience:
"Take pity on me! Look how men live, always precariously balanced between
good and bad fortune. If you are out of trouble, watch for danger. And when you
live well, then consider the most your life, lest ruin takes it unawares!"
And that's far from the only example. Myths tend to depict the mutability of human fate and mortal vulnerability. A slightly warped example of this is the idea of drama as schadenfreude. Timocles describes it in Women in the Dionysia:
"the man who is poor finds Telephus to be even poorer than himself and so bears
his own poverty more easily...Someone's child has died - Niobe is a comfort. The
lame sees Philoctites, an old man in misfortune learns about Oineus; so neach
one, having learnt of all the greater misfortunes having befallen others,
laments his own lot the less."
Or Libanus, on Behalf of the Dancers, claims powerfully:
"Do you want to learn how you will have the strength to lift up a soul plunged in
grief and make it feel easier? Take a man deprived of his dear ones, or his
money, or wantonly insulted and beaten., and bring him to the theatre; show him,
through the dancer, ancient kingdoms destroyed, and you will lift him up."
Cute theory, but I'm not sure this works. Tends to make me feel even more wretched.
Generally, the chorus would deliver this exposition. A little on the chorus, who was there to dance and sing between scenes. But literally placed between the stage and audience, their role was to tell the audience how to react: a little like those "applause!" and "boo!" cards.
Pity mixed with fear governed the audience - in short, the Athenians were upset by the image and idea of characters suffering, and it might do you well to notice that nothing has changed in a millenia. Aristotle believes on this front that pity for suffering comes from our fear that it will happen to us. At the time, my notes read "I disagree with this". In the cold light of day, however, I think the basic root of sympathy is in selfishness.
All this weeping and terror lead to the basic objective of tragedy: catharsis. A hard to translate concept, which approximates a purging or purification through fear and pity. Maybe it's like when you've been worrying so much and sob, and when you stop you feel fine.
At this point, I stopped taking notes. It was a bad day.
*not technically true.
** also not exactly correct
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