The question may be raised whether the Epic or Tragic mode of imitation
is the higher. If the more refined art is the higher, and the more
refined in every case is that which appeals to the better sort of
audience, the art which imitates anything and everything is manifestly
most unrefined. The audience is supposed to be too dull to comprehend
unless something of their own is thrown in by the performers, who
therefore indulge in restless movements. Bad flute-players twist and
twirl, if they have to represent 'the quoit-throw,' or hustle the
coryphaeus when they perform the 'Scylla.' Tragedy, it is said, has
this same defect. We may compare the opinion that the older actors
entertained of their successors. Mynniscus used to call Callippides
'ape' on account of the extravagance of his action, and the same view
was held of Pindarus. Tragic art, then, as a whole, stands to Epic in
the same relation as the younger to the elder actors. So we are told
that Epic poetry is addressed to a cultivated audience, who do not need
gesture; Tragedy, to an inferior public. Being then unrefined, it is
evidently the lower of the two.
Now, in the first place, this censure attaches not to the poetic but to
the histrionic art; for gesticulation may be equally overdone in
epic recitation, as by Sosi-stratus, or in lyrical competition, as by
Mnasitheus the Opuntian. Next, all action is not to be condemned any
more than all dancing--but only that of bad performers. Such was the
fault found in Callippides, as also in others of our own day, who are
censured for representing degraded women. Again, Tragedy like Epic
poetry produces its effect even without action; it reveals its power
by mere reading. If, then, in all other respects it is superior, this
fault, we say, is not inherent in it.
And superior it is, because it has all the epic elements--it may even
use the epic metre--with the music and spectacular effects as important
accessories; and these produce the most vivid of pleasures. Further,
it has vividness of impression in reading as well as in representation.
Moreover, the art attains its end within narrower limits; for the
concentrated effect is more pleasurable than one which is spread over a
long time and so diluted. What, for example, would be the effect of the
Oedipus of Sophocles, if it were cast into a form as long as the Iliad?
Once more, the Epic imitation has less unity; as is shown by this, that
any Epic poem will furnish subjects for several tragedies. Thus if
the story adopted by the poet has a strict unity, it must either be
concisely told and appear truncated; or, if it conform to the Epic canon
of length, it must seem weak and watery. <Such length implies some loss
of unity,> if, I mean, the poem is constructed out of several actions,
like the Iliad and the Odyssey, which have many such parts, each with a
certain magnitude of its own. Yet these poems are as perfect as possible
in structure; each is, in the highest degree attainable, an imitation of
a single action.
If, then, Tragedy is superior to Epic poetry in all these respects, and,
moreover, fulfils its specific function better as an art for each art
ought to produce, not any chance pleasure, but the pleasure proper to
it, as already stated it plainly follows that Tragedy is the higher art,
as attaining its end more perfectly.
Thus much may suffice concerning Tragic and Epic poetry in general;
their several kinds and parts, with the number of each and their
differences; the causes that make a poem good or bad; the objections of
the critics and the answers to these objections.