Have you ever noticed that when something bad has occurred the first fleeting thought that comes to mind is, "Oh, wow! That's horrible. I'm so glad it didn't happen to me."? Perhaps I am the only one who thinks this way and, perhaps, that says something much more about my character than I should care to admit. In my initial - and brief - exploration of tragedy I have found that I am not alone in my opinion of tragic events. The authors of the Tragedy site on Wikipedia state that it is "based on human suffering that invokes in its audience an accompanying catharsis or pleasure in the viewing." How odd that the experience of an audience watching a tragedy is to contain that "pleasure in the viewing" of someone else's demise, misfortune, and suffering.
What is the lure of tragedy then? It cannot mean humans simply just love to see the demise of another for personal pleasure. Our connection to tragic scenarios in art go a bit deeper when we consider Aristotle's perspective from his work Poetics, he claims:
"Tragedy, then, is an imitation of an action that is serious and complete, and which has some greatness about it. It imitates in words with pleasant accompaniments, each type belonging separately to the different parts of the work. It imitates people performing actions and does not rely on narration. It achieves, through pity and fear, the catharsis of these sorts of feelings" (Poet. 1449b21–29).
Aristotle understood we are not as callous as it would seem, because it is the "imitation of an action that is serious and complete" that we connect with - not merely the act itself. In essence, it is not the tragic events we love, but the actions that teach us how we should respond when tragedy strikes.
Tragedy teaches us how to cope with what fate has dealt out, because many times a tragic event is totally out of the control of the person (or people) experiencing it. Paul Roche, in his work, "The Oedipus Plays of Sophocles: The Great Encounter" asserts that "It is not what fate has in store for us that matters, but what we do with it when it comes. There may be suffering, but no abiding hopelessness. No power, no imposition, no catastrophe, can uproot the personal dignity of each human being." In tragedy there is growth. In tragedy there is dignity. And, regardless what fate has in store for human beings, in tragedy there is hope. Hope that we can see the light the shines, every faintly among the darkness of our lives.
What is the lure of tragedy then? It cannot mean humans simply just love to see the demise of another for personal pleasure. Our connection to tragic scenarios in art go a bit deeper when we consider Aristotle's perspective from his work Poetics, he claims:
"Tragedy, then, is an imitation of an action that is serious and complete, and which has some greatness about it. It imitates in words with pleasant accompaniments, each type belonging separately to the different parts of the work. It imitates people performing actions and does not rely on narration. It achieves, through pity and fear, the catharsis of these sorts of feelings" (Poet. 1449b21–29).
Aristotle understood we are not as callous as it would seem, because it is the "imitation of an action that is serious and complete" that we connect with - not merely the act itself. In essence, it is not the tragic events we love, but the actions that teach us how we should respond when tragedy strikes.
Tragedy teaches us how to cope with what fate has dealt out, because many times a tragic event is totally out of the control of the person (or people) experiencing it. Paul Roche, in his work, "The Oedipus Plays of Sophocles: The Great Encounter" asserts that "It is not what fate has in store for us that matters, but what we do with it when it comes. There may be suffering, but no abiding hopelessness. No power, no imposition, no catastrophe, can uproot the personal dignity of each human being." In tragedy there is growth. In tragedy there is dignity. And, regardless what fate has in store for human beings, in tragedy there is hope. Hope that we can see the light the shines, every faintly among the darkness of our lives.