The dramatic art of tragedy causes an audience to experience both pain and pleasure. This paradox has been one of the most perplexing conundrums for philosophers going back to Plato and Aristotle. David Hume (1711-1776) articulates his reflections on the psychological dimensions of this intriguing subject in his short essay, Of Tragedy. A thorough analysis of Hume’s essay would require many pages. Since this is a book review and not a book, below are a few quotes from Hume along with my comments.
“It seems an unaccountable pleasure which the spectators of a well-written tragedy receive from sorrow, terror, anxiety, and other passions, that are in themselves disagreeable and uneasy. The more they are touched and affected, the more are they delighted with the spectacle . . .”
In Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch, we are quickly pulled into the story of a sensitive teenage boy losing his mother in an explosion at an art museum (of all places). And the more compelling the drama, the more we read. Personally, I am frequently hooked by first person narrators – it’s as if I’m given an occasion to experience life through another; the more extreme and challenging the story, the more passionate the character, the more I relish turning the pages. Sidebar: I’ve taken the liberty of using the novel as an example since nowadays we read novels much more than tragic plays.
“The whole art of the poet is employed in rousing and supporting the compassion and indignation, the anxiety and resentment of his audience. They are pleased in proportion as they are afflicted, and never are so happy as when they employ tears, sobs, and cries to give vent to their sorrow, and relieve their heart, swollen with the tenderest sympathy and compassion.”
“The whole art of the poet is employed in rousing and supporting the compassion and indignation, the anxiety and resentment of his audience. They are pleased in proportion as they are afflicted, and never are so happy as when they employ tears, sobs, and cries to give vent to their sorrow, and relieve their heart, swollen with the tenderest sympathy and compassion.”
Again, with tragedy on the stage or in a novel or film or various other forms of art, we as audience or reader are given an opportunity to make a heart to heart connection with the subject. And the deeper our connection, the greater the chance the play, novel, film or art will continue to live within us.
“That nothing is in general so disagreeable to the mind as the languid, listless state of indolence into which it falls upon the removal of all passion and occupation. To get rid of this painful situation, it seeks every amusement and pursuit: business, gaming, shows, executions; whatever will rouse the passions and take its attention from itself.”
For Hume, we humans thrive on those events, everything from highbrow art to low-grade spectacle, that stir our emotions, the more extreme, the better. Much more preferable than sitting home, staring out the window. Thus, as humans, we are primed for tragedy.
"It is certain that the same object of distress which pleases in a tragedy, were it really set before us, would give the most unfeigned uneasiness."
"It is certain that the same object of distress which pleases in a tragedy, were it really set before us, would give the most unfeigned uneasiness."
According to Hume, the key is in the art. We are able to take the pain of what tragic figures endure up on stage since the author, actors, director, scene designer and others who contribute to the production counterpoise the pain with the pleasure of their artistic/dramatic elements. For example, we gladly endure the pain of watching King Lear’s ordeals since we experience pleasure in Shakespeare’s elegant writing, the excellence of the actor’s art, the elaborate costumes, lighting and stage set. Actually, according to Hume, our pleasure outweighs our pain, thus our abiding experience is one of delight.
One of my favorite parts of the essay is where Hume writes: “An action represented in tragedy may be too bloody and atrocious. It may excite such movements of horror as will not soften into pleasure; and the greatest energy of expression, bestowed on descriptions of that nature, serves only to augment our uneasiness. Such is that action represented in "The Ambitious Stepmother", here a venerable old man, raised to the height of fury and despair, rushes against a pillar, and striking his head upon it besmears it all over with mingled brains and gore. The English theatre abounds too much with such shocking images.”
One of my favorite parts of the essay is where Hume writes: “An action represented in tragedy may be too bloody and atrocious. It may excite such movements of horror as will not soften into pleasure; and the greatest energy of expression, bestowed on descriptions of that nature, serves only to augment our uneasiness. Such is that action represented in "The Ambitious Stepmother", here a venerable old man, raised to the height of fury and despair, rushes against a pillar, and striking his head upon it besmears it all over with mingled brains and gore. The English theatre abounds too much with such shocking images.”
My goodness. What would David Hume think of all the horror films and literature created mainly for shock value during the last one hundred years? If you care to pursue such lively philosophical questions on the nature of tragedy, this essay is a great place to start.
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