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TEXTS/ CONTEXTS
ARISTOTELIAN
CATHARSIS AND
PURGATION OF
THE
WOMAN
John McCumber
Ourculturehas engendered,over centuries,an almost unremittingflow
of books and articlesconcerningAristotle'sview of the "cleansing"effected
by tragedy.' But the stream conveys different degrees of intellectual
nourishmentat differenttimes. The presentis not one of the fertile periods;
KennethBennett,in fact, hasarguedthatdiscussionof "catharsis"hasby now
thinned to bloodless intellectual water and that the term has in fact lost all
meaning in literary theory. A loss, indeed, after so many centuries, and
perhapsone which reflects on us; for are we not today, in partif not wholly,
the catch-basinof intellectualcurrentsfrom the past?
But perhapswe can circumventthis loss (perhaps,even, this identity).
We must, certainly, distinguish two possibilities. If in fact the intellectual
nourishmentaffordedby the concept of catharsishas simply thinnedout, the
concept itself has not changed its intellectual situation. It is just where it
always was, comprehensiblein the same ways, only it is now less nourishing
than previously-less informative about art and ourselves. But, more
radically at first view, it may also be that the culturalflow has gone away
entirely, simply driedup, in which case we arepermittedto suspect that the
concept itself is still at work in our culture but elsewhere, and that the
nourishmentit affordshas been caughtand held in some deeperterrain.It is
this possibility thatI will arguefor here, by returningto the source of it allAristotle-and re-collectinghis conceptof catharsisin sucha way as to locate
it elsewhere.
Aristotle's Politics situatescatharsisby speakingof it in medicalterminology (kathistamenous hosper iatreias) [Politics 8.7 1342al0]). This
eventuallypromptedthe "medical"interpretationadvancedin 1857 by Jakob
Berays, which has now largely supplantedthe earlier"purification"view,
which interpretedcatharsisin religious termsand is attributedby Berays to
Goethe andLessing.2 Accordingto Berays, the tragedianuses his dramato
~crA
1. The topic is traced back to Milton in Ingram Bywater, "Milton and the
AristotelianDefinition of Tragedy,"Journalof Philology 64 (1901): 267-75;for a
history of the issue in French scholarship, cf. J. Hardy's introductionto Aristotle,
Poetique, ed. J. Hardy (Paris: BudS,1977) 16-22. Also cf. Else, Aristotle's Poetics
224n, for further bibliographicalnotes.
2. Jakob Bernays, Grundzige der verlorenenAbhandlungdes Aristotelesuiber
Wirkung der Trag6die (Breslau, 1857); partial translation in Jonathan Barnes,
Malcolm Shofteld, and Richard Sorabji, Articles on Aristotle, 4 vols. (London:
Duckworth,1979) 4: 154-65. Cf. Bennett206 f. for summariesof these two views.
53
as Martin
surelythis is excessive: essentialnaturesare hardlydivorcedfrom instrumentality,
Heideggerarguesin SeinundZeit(Tiibingen:Niemeyer,1927)66-76. Infact (as I shallargue
later)thePoeticsis verywellawareof thepoliticalfunctions
of tragedy.
inSophocles,ThePlaysandFragments
5. References
tothiswillbetothetextofRichardJebb,
in thetextandflaggedOT.
I: TheOedipusTyrannus;
theywill be givenparenthetically
to my
6. Fortherelationof analysis,narrative,anddemarcation,
cf.thegeneralintroduction
PoeticInteraction
(Chicago:U of ChicagoP, 1989).
54
55
or telos.7 And, as Eva Schaperhas noted, structureand telos are for Aristotle not two
differentthings. As Aristotlesometimesputs it, only their"being"is different: a thing's
telos is in fact its form or structuringprinciple,not yet residing wholly within the thing
itself.8 Allocating mimesis wholly to the play-to the objectperceived-while catharsis
is assigned in its entiretyto the audience-to theperceivingsubject-is thusanachronistic, since Aristotlelived long before Descartes's division of realityinto self-determining
subjectivityand externallycaused objectivity. It also appearsto be analyticallyunsatisfactory,because neithercatharsisnor mimesis shouldbe wholly absentfrom either side
of whateverline is drawnbetween spectatorand spectacle. The play should, somehow,
contain catharsis,and the spectator,mimesis. The latter,moreover,should develop into
the formeras its completion,somewhatin the way an acorndevelops into an oak. But we
cannot understandthe relationof mimesis to catharsisunless we have first graspedthe
natureof catharsisitself, which directsus back to our originalfour questions and thence
to the regions of woman herself.
TheNature of Catharsis
Thereis controversyas to how exactly, in themedical interpretation,catharsisis supposed to work in Aristotle's view-in partbecause thereis controversyas to whetherhe
was a homeopathor an allopath.9But thereought to be no controversyover the fact that
biology precedesmedicine: therewould be no doctorswithoutdiseases, and no diseases
without naturalphysiological functions to go awry. The art of healing, says Aristotle,
resides in the patientas well as in thedoctor. The doctordoes notproducehealthex nihilo,
but intervenes in and modifies naturalprocesses already underway. And purging, for
Aristotle, is in fact an illustrationof this [Metaphysics5.2.1013a37 ff.; 5.12.1019a17 f.].
Naturalphysiological functionsare,in general,indigestiblematterto the metaphysical tradition,concernedas it is to pursuean intellectualor supersensiblerealm. They are
also, paradoxically,foreignto the purgationview. Grounded,as Bennettnotes, in the rise
of science in the nineteenthcentury [206], this view sees catharsisas a wholly artificial
phenomenon,instigatedby the doctor/tragedianwithoutregardto what actuallygoes on
naturallyin the patient/spectator.Indeed, nothing significant is in fact going on in the
patient apartfrom the disease. Like the disease, the patient is object and not subject:
materialfor manipulationby the (autonomous)doctor. As for manipulation,the patient
is dominated, and as dominated human matter, is feminized; the purgation view of
catharsisleads throughthe subject/objectdichotomyit presupposesto a very traditional
view of woman. So understood, catharsis is caught in a conceptual framework of
expertise, action, and purpose-one thatwe can call "male."
This captureis not foreign to Aristotle. Indeed,the frameworkof purposiveaction,
reinforcedby science in the last century,devolves ultimatelyfrom him.'0 But his version
of maleness is not caught up in the subject/objectdichotomy, and naturalbiological
processes were hardly foreign to him. He spent years as a working biologist, and his
7. For a detailedaccountof this, cf. O. B. HardisoninHardisonandLeon Golden's Aristotle's
Poetics: A TranslationandCommentaryfor Studentsof Literature(Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-
Hall,1968)288.
18
CatharsisandAestheticPleasure,"Philosophical
8. EvaSchaper,"Aristotle's
Quarterly
or
and
telos
Aristotle's
connection
135
For
structure,
cf.
of
Physics
(1968):
general
form
f.
2.7.198a25seqq.andW.D. Ross,Aristotle,5th ed. rev.(London:Methuen,1949)74.
British
ClauseofAristotle'sPoetics,"
9. Cf.K.G.Srivastava,"ANewLookatthe'Katharsis'
Journalof Aesthetics12 (1972): 258-75.
10. Cf. JiirgenHabermas,Theoryof Communicative
Action,trans.ThomasMcCarthy
(Boston:Beacon,1984)85.
56
57
the medical readingof catharsiscan mislead us, and of two where the religious view can.
For in both these readings,whatis expelled is somethingbad or at best neutral-either an
emotion itself or some impurityin it. But fearandpity, unliketheseeds of disease expelled
via purgatives,arenot in Aristotle'sviewper se harmfulto man [cf. Verdenius369]. They
are not even neutral. Nor need they be somehow "contaminated"in order to require
catharticcleansing. Rather,in themselves they are good for us-noble and necessary,if
not exactly nourishinglike blood. It is only theirexcess which is bad, and which mustbe
gotten rid of by tragic catharsis[cf. Politics 8.7.1342a6 ff.].'6
The medicalanalogyalso misleadsus, I will argue,becausecatharsisis not at bottom
an artificialphenomenon,one initiatedby man. Nor, of course,is it a supernatural
process:
we are for Aristotleraised above natureby philosophy, not by mystical practices. It is,
rather,a naturalhappening:the tragedianmerelyinducesa process which comes aboutof
itself in a wholly naturalway. If he administersa "medicine"to the spectator,the analogy
is not to those types of drug used to cure diseases. It is more like the medicamentsused
by women from time immemorialto bring on theirperiods.
The thirdproblemwith the medicalanalogyis (unknowingly)pointedto by Bywater:
"A catharsisin the medicalsense of the wordis an iatreia, only for occasionaluse" [156].
We use medicamentsonly when we get sick, and we do not get sick on schedule. But
Greektragedywas, precisely, scheduled. Plays were given on certaindates (such as just
before the full moon of Elaphebolion),and these returnedevery year. Tragic catharsis
thus has an aspect of regularitywhich is not capturedby the medical analogy, thoughthe
analogy works well enough for music, which in Athens (as now) was available pretty
much when needed. Hence, I suspect,Aristotle's willingness to use medical termsin the
Politics, where he discusses the catharsisaccomplishedby music, and the lack of themin
the Poetics.
The foregoing means, finally, that the emotions expelled in catharsis cannot be
simply adventitious,like a disease. Theymustbe emotionswhichbuildup in the spectator
with enough regularityto permita scheduledcleansing. In particular,they must include
a continualfearfulnessof some sort.
Differing from the medical view on these fourpoints, and from the religious one on
the first two of them, the assimilationof catharsisto menstruationamounts,I suggest, to
a relocationof the concept-one which places it not in the masculine frameworkof the
doctor's office or the equally masculine sanctuariesof Eleusis but in the infinitely more
subtle and profoundterrainof woman's body.
In this "menstrualreading,"catharsis operates as follows. When a spectator is
presented with a tragedy, he (the male pronoun,we will see, is wholly appropriate)is
presentedwith images of fearfulthings happeningto someone resembling him. In this
presentation,as a standardcase of Aristoteliansense-perception,the formsof the entities
perceived-the sensible propertiesof the personsandevents on the stage-enter into the
spectator through his sensory organs [cf. de Anima 2.12]. Because those forms, as
aesthetic, leave out much that is contingent, they are highly concentrated[cf. Poetics
1451a seqq.], and have the effect of evincing a universalin the spectator. Once he has
graspedthis universal-the plot and the charactersrevealedby it-the spectatoris made
to "shudder"[Poetics 14, esp. 1453b4ff.]. Theuse of this wordhere [phrittein-cf. pallon
at OT 150, andalso the chorus'sphrikenat OT 1306] is, I think,important.Forphrittein
does not denote, in the texts of Aristotle's school, a voluntarymotion: even when occasioned by the hearing of dreadfulthings, shudderingcomes about involuntarily,via a
16. Ishouldnotehere,againstBenjamin
Jowett,thattheGreekofthispassageusesthewords
eleemonasandphobetikous,
bothofwhichincontextclearlyconveythenotionof excess.Jowett's
translationsuggeststhatanyinfluenceofpityandfearon apersonrequirescatharsis,whichis an
extreme(andextremelyVictorian)versionof thepurgationtheory:cf.RichardMcKeon,ed.,The
Basic Works of Aristotle (New York: RandomHouse, 1941) 1315.
58
4^
rr
0l
o,,A
94M.
_r"
vow
_)~
'I
diacritics / winter 1988
59
naturalphysiological process.17 The spectatorcannothelp his shudder;his fearoverpowers him throughits excess-he cannot absorbit.
Unabsorbed,the fear does not become partof the spectator,at least not in the sense
of the NicomacheanEthics . There,man is said to be an archepraxeon, a source of acts;
andwhatis preeminentlyin the humanindividualas sourceof his acts arethosereasonings
and desires which lead to action.'8 To absorbfear would thusbe to make it the basis for
action. But the tragic spectatordoes not act to avoid the fearful things he sees-not
because, like a woman,he is incapableof distillinghis fearinto a rationalbasis for action,
but because such distillationis not necessary. For what he sees is only an imitation,a
mimesis, of fearful things. It is of the same type as the images which provoke his real,
everydayfears,butis notone of themandproducesnotflightbutpleasure[Poetics 1453a2
ff., bl2ff.]. The tragedy grinds to its terrible conclusion, but the spectatorremains
unharmed. The fearfulimage passes throughand out of him; he is cleansed of it and of
his fear. He leaves the theaterfeeling "lightened"'9and recovered.
18. Nicomachean
Ethics3.1; also cf. 2.3.1112b32ff.; 6.2.1139b3ff.
19. kouphizesthai,Politics1342a14; cf. k'anakouphisaiat OT 23.
60
secret everyone has is the desire to commit the very crimes thatOedipus in fact committed. The fear thatone' s own antisocialdesireswill become public is thus not pity but very
real fear for one's own self. It is also hardlyadventitious:as long as such desires remain
present,fear of theirrevelationwould requireregularpurging(and thus tragiccatharsis,
unlikeFreudianpsychoanalysis,would nevercome to an end in a definitive cure). Again
on this level, the catharsisis the naturalcompletion of the mimesis: when the spectator
realizes thatthe tragedywas Oedipus's, not his own, he realizes that his own secrets are
safe. The fear that they will be revealed is, for a time, assuaged.
ButFreud'sreadingof catharsis,thoughintendedto be morespecific thanAristotle's,
is in fact more general. For in it, fear and pity have lost their statusas the preeminently
tragic emotions: the impulses to be discharged throughthe tragedy include those to
"freedom in religious, social, and sexual matters, and to 'blow off steam' in every
direction"[305 ff.]. Ourre-situatingof Aristotle's concept of catharsismust attemptto
restoreto fear andpity theirpeculiardramaticstatus. The firstthing to note in this regard
is that if pity is a type of displaced fear, then its status as tragic emotion is probably
dependentupon that of fear. And the status of fear can be understood,I will argue, not
psychologically but only socially. Again, the menstrualreading of catharsiscan be of
value here. For it has, as feminist, not merely psychological but also political ramifications. It suggests, in fact, thatthereis a politicallevel of fearstill deeperthantheFreudian.
This deeper level actually contains, I will suggest, fear of two related sorts of thing.
In view of Plato's well-knownattackson artas destructiveto society, Aristotleought
to have been awareof thepolitical significanceof tragedy,andseveralpassages show that
in fact, though he never gives a definitive discussion of the topic, he was awareof them.
In Poetics 26, for example, Aristotle argues (against Plato) that tragedy does not
necessarilydebase its audience. He is plainly aware,throughoutthePoetics, thattragedy
developed at Athens, thepolispar excellence. And he seems, in fact, to accept the theory
thatwhile comedy developed in the komai, or villages-mere concatenationsof households aimingto providethenecessities of life-tragedy developedin thecity. Therealone
could action be, not necessary only but noble as well, and the city developed from the
villages for the purpose of pursuingthe Noble, to kalon.20 Tragic catharsis is clearly
connected to the pursuitof the Noble, because one who undergoes catharsisis always
freebornand educated. Politics 8.7 excludes from catharsiseven those free men who
follow trades,such as mechanicsand laborers: denizens of the realmof necessity rather
than of Nobility, they seek only relaxationfrom art [Poetics 1342a18 ff.].21 Afortiori,
women and slaves would also be unfit to experience catharsis-the latterbecause they
follow trades;the formerbecause they have no education.
We have seen, so far,two objectsexpelled in tragiccatharsis,two "katharmata":the
imitationfear, or pity, thatthe spectatorfeels on behalf of Oedipus;and the real fear that
his own antisocial impulses will become public. A third katharma,approachingthe
political sphere,is familial in nature. As GeraldElse has noted [Aristotle'sPoetics 422,
424,429 f.], the tragicplot for Aristotlealways springsfroma miaron,a blood-pollution:
an act which brings evil on one's entire family [cf. Poetics 13.1453a18 ff.]. Oedipus, as
he puts it himself, has both spilled the blood of his fatherand confused the blood of his
children/siblings[OT 1400 ff.], and this specific set of acts evokes the more generalfear
of having one's own blood pollutedby the injuryof a kinsman. This generalizedfear is
very real-indeed, is apparentlythe greatestof all fears [Poetics 1453b14 ff.]. Like the
20. Poetics 1448a36ff., 1449a38ff.; Politics 1.1-2; 3.9.1281alff.; on the general distinction
between the realms of necessity and Nobility, cf. de GenerationeAnimalium B731b20 seqq.;
Nicomachean Ethics 8.1.1255a22-30; also cf. HannahArendt,The HumanCondition(Chicago:
U of Chicago P, 1958) 22-78.
21. Verdenius,wrongly equatinganapausis with catharsis, gets this point backwards.
61
others, it too is carriedaway when the spectatorrealizes thatwhat he has seen is merely
a spectacle-when the mimesis is achieved.
These two fears-that of undergoingsomethingsimilarto what Oedipusundergoes
(with its displacement,pity) and thatof sufferinginjustice within the family-can only
be linked by yet anotherfear,a fourthkatharma:the fear on the partof the spectator,not
that injury should be done him, but that he should do it and himself become miaros,
literally "coveredwith blood." For unless the spectatorcan fear this, he cannot identify
with Oedipus, the perpetratorof just such an injustice;his fear of familial injustice will
remainwholly passive, andtheprocessof catharsiscannotget underway.But why should
one fear doing, ratherthan suffering,injustice?
The fearof becoming coveredwithblood is ultimatelynothingotherthanthe fearthat
one shouldbe definedby somethingthathappenedwithinthe family (as is Oedipus,in the
end) ratherthanby one's pursuitof the Noble in the political sphere. Thus, to be subject
to blood-pollutionwas to be drivenfromcitizenship,defacto if not dejure, andto relapse
into the domainof "necessity,"of the family and village. This is a fifth katharma,and a
constantone. We will not fear relapsinginto the family if we are alreadycircumscribed
by it, as life is in the villages. On the otherhand,fearof blood-pollution,as fearfor one's
political statusitself, would be the mostpolitically debilitatingof fears: thepolis requires
tragic catharsisto keep it from getting out of hand. Thus, tragedyrequiredthepolis for
its development,andvice versa: the attainmentof political statusitself is precarious,and
the fear of its loss is purgedin tragedy.
The historical context of classical Athens suggests that behind this fear lies yet
another-another level, left unspokenby Aristotlebut clearlyindicatedby the menstrual
reading of catharsis. After the reformsof Solon, about575 BC, women were excluded
from political life. They were relegated entirely to the oikos, the household, and-as
Pericles put it ca. 431-were best not spoken of, for good or evil.22 They were, in sum,
condemned to pay, whether they had actually harmedanybody or not, the penalty for
blood-pollution. Thus, to be defined by family life was to be defined the way Athenian
women were in fact defined. It is woman, the creatureof blood, who is primordiallyand
by a cyclical processof nature"coveredwithblood"-not theman,who can convertblood
into semen and village life into politics. The greatfear of the latterwas, it appears,being
sent to join the former. The psychological catharsiseffected by tragedythus mirrors,in
the male, the biological process undergonemonthlyby the female. But it also distances
him safely from it. For the spectatoris not, to his own greatrelief,23really menstruating.
He is merely imitatingmenstruation.
62
63
14,"
114*1-
Reading glene as "socket," especially the socket of a woman, we find the lines
inscribe a blood-stormfrom the vagina in terms suggesting the onset of a particularly
difficult period. What Oedipus deprives himself of by this is, as we might expect,
somethingwhich, like blood, is good in itself: vision. And it is, as we mightalso expect,
because (as he tells us)further vision would be of no use to him [OT 1371-90): would
be an excess-he has seen enough. Oedipus's self-blinding by repeated stabs can, I
suggest, be viewed not as castrationbut as an act of self-intercourse--one which, as
extremelyvigorous intercourseis popularlythoughtto do, bringson a period.This hardly
of its force: in both cases, what Oedipus is doing
deprives the castration-interpretation
is ending his own masculinity. (It would also leave intactreadings that associated the
blindingwith defloration.)But in the "socket"readinghe reduceshimself not to a eunuch
but to a sort of woman, or at least to an androgynelike the otherblind wise "man"in the
play, Teiresias.
Thus, the chorus is purged of its fear throughoutthe play but is merely a sort of
spectator,ratherthananactor.ThatOedipushimselfcasts off his vision in a stormof blood
is only one incidentin theplay, notthe entiretyof its plot;andit only foreshadowsthe final
"cleansing"which takes place at the end of Oedipusat Colonus. A more complex case,
one which persists throughoutthe entireplay, concerns the polis itself. For it is Thebes
which, as we saw, is succumbingto the blood-stormin lines 23 ff. and 101. The problems
thatbedevil the polis are not of the sort thatcould be assigned to the male, political level,
such as factionalismor militaryweakness,but are much deeper-natural problemswith
the (female)"earth"itself: plagues,blights,andbarrenness.Indeed,Thebesis recurrently
said to be "sick"-nosein, whichmeansseriousdiscomfortorunease,andwhichAristotle
applies to women in their period [OT 60 f., 150, 169, 217, 303, 307; de Generatione
Animalium775b9]. But if we areto say thatthe polis undergoesa naturalfeminine nosos
and menstruates,what it gets rid of is none otherthanOedipushimself, who at the end is
banished from the polis and enters a "stormysea of dreadtrouble"[OT 1527].
Indeed,Oedipus's identificationof himself with the moons [hoi de suggeneis menes
me mikronkai megan diorisan, OT 1082 f.] suffices to establish what we might call the
menstrual dimension of his identity. For the common term (not Aristotle's) for the
menstrualperiod is "takatamenia,"literally,"thethings accordingto the moon"or "the
monthlies." WhatOedipusis hereassertingis thathe himself is a "monthly,"something
to be purged with the moon. And what the polis rids itself of in this manneris, again,
something nourishingfor it: Oedipus himself, and especially his untutoredcleverness.
This had once set right the city by saving it from the Sphinx [OT39 ff., 394, 1065]; but
it is now being pushedto excess by Oedipus'sdesire to know everythingaboutthe plague
and his own ancestry. In thisreading,then,the entireplot of theplay depictsa catharsisone by which the sufferingbody of Thebes,theThebanearth,ridsherselfof the cleverness
of Oedipus, his vision. The catharsisis completedwhen Oedipus,at play's end, returns
to the house-to the domain of necessity.
Other Concepts
In the menstrualreading,therigid separationof mimesis andcatharsisis undone: the
former is not exclusively the province of the spectacle, and the latter is not that of the
spectator. Spectatorand spectacle do not relateas inviolable (male) subjectand violated
(female) objectbutmutuallyinterpenetrate,transformingone anotherin a varietyof ways.
Returning to the Poetics with this in mind can clarify other aesthetic concepts of
Aristotle's. One of these is thatof hamartia,or the tragicflaw. Aristotle's discussion of
this has a puzzling feature. Tragedy,as opposed to comedy, presents"nobleactions and
actions of noble men"and is "an imitationof personagesbetterthan the ordinaryman"
[Poetics 4.1448b26 f., 15.1454b8 f.; also cf. 4.1449b31 f.). But Aristotle also says that
64
thetragicherois someone"notpre-eminently
virtuousandjust"butmerelysomeoneof
ordinarymeritin high stationwho has a greatflaw whichbringshim down [Poetics
13.1453a7-11].Thegeneralproblem,I takeit, is this: if someoneis trulyexcellentin all
respects,anystoryof hisdownfallwill be unbelievable
exceptas a randomaccident.As
we will seebelow,randomaccidentcannotbethemovingforceina tragedy,so theremust
bea flawintheherotoaccountforhismisfortune.Butif theherois flawed,hismisfortune
neednotidentifywithhis flawand
is notas fearfulto othersas if hewerenot: spectators
mayeven feel thathe deserveshis downfall(in theNew Testament,hamartiawouldbe
the standard
wordfor "sin").Thetragicheromust,in sum,be flawedandnot-flawed:
flawedbecauseotherwisehisdownfallwillbeamereaccidentof fateandhencenottragic;
unflawedbecausehe mustbe betterthanordinarypeople,andhencea hero.
andcommentary,
is to takehamartiaas "error
Bywater'ssolution,in histranslation
in judgment,"approximating
it to Aristotle'susagein theNicomacheanEthics,where
in ignoranceof thecircumstances
hamartiadenotesanactperformed
obtaining.5Such
is certainlythecasewhenOedipuskillshis fatherandmarrieshis mother:he knewthat
them.Butthoseacts
thoseactionswerecriminal,butdidnotknowthathewasperforming
also cannothave resultedfromhis tragicflaw. For the functionAristotleassignsto
hamartiaat Poetics 13.1453a7-11is to undo the protagonist;and the tragicflaw,
identifiedthereaspartof theplot,mustcomeintoplayduringthedramaitself. Oedipus's
crimes,however,occurredpriorto theplay,anddidnotof themselvesbringaboutthe
reversalof fortunewhichtheplaypresents.What,in theplay,undoesOedipusis what
inspiteof allwarning,inunveilingthemystery
vanBraamcalls"hisperversepersistence,
andfindingthe mudererof Laius"[272].
A morepersuasiveresolutionof theproblem,I suggest,is to understand
hamartiaas
we mustunderstand
it in themenstrual
reading:as thepresenceinexcessof somequality
whichinitselfis good. Sucha qualityis theclevernessandintellectual
daringof Oedipus,
whichoncesavedthecity. Becausethequalityin questionis good(notmerelyneutral),
theherois a hero,butbecauseit is presentto excess,he is flawed.
TheotherconceptI will discussin thisconnectionis thatof praxis,theactionwhich
the tragedy"imitates."Aristotle'sdefinitionsof this concept,we shouldnote, get
progressivelynarrowerin the courseof thePoetics. At 6.1450a16f., whatthe tragedy
imitatesis saidtobe"actionandlife andhappinessandunhappiness,"
whichis notmerely
broadbutall-inclusive.At7.1450b23-25,it is "anactionthatis wholeandcompleteand
andat 8.1451b8-10,we findourselvesreferredto "the
possessinga certainmagnitude,"
sortof thinga manof a certaintypewill do or say eitherprobablyor necessarily."
Sincecatharsis,in themenstrual
reading,is a naturalprocessandnotanaction,there
to
be
a
serious
between
Aristotle'stextandmy accountof Oedipus
appears
discrepancy
theKing:I amclaimingthattheplaytellsthestoryof a catharsis,
of a naturalprocess,and
Aristotleclaims that it tells the story of an action. Moreover,Aristotleidentifies
Oedipus's"action"as whathe did to his fatherandmother,killingandmarryingthem
is
respectively,andto his children,begettingthem[1453b29ff]. Butthatidentification
of the"action"of Oedipusin thetraditional
It
the
which
cannot
be
action
story.
specific
in theplay,whichas I have
OedipustheKing itselfimitatesbecauseit is notportrayed
notedpresentsratherthestoryof howthataction,performed
longbefore,is discovered.
Buthowarewe to construeOedipus'srelentlesspursuitof thetruthas thedepictionof a
catharsis?
Ingeneral,itis possiblethatwearedrawingthedistinction
betweenactionandnatural
processtoo sharply. Thekindof actionthe tragedyimitatesis not simplysomething
someonedoes,buthasa "universal"
atits base. It is aninstanceof whatwe mightcalla
rationalstructureof action,andin virtueof thatis not peculiarto the characterwho
25. Bywater1453a; Bywateris defendedin van Braam. Else also takes this view [Aristotle's
Poetics 377-85], as does D. W.Lucas, ed., Aristotle:Poetics (Oxford: Clarendon,1968) 299-307.
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performsit but extends beyond him, to be a possibility for otherslike him. That is why
otherscanidentifywiththeprotagonist[Poetics7.1450b21-25; 17.1455b1-3]. Moreover,
Poetics 7 tells us thatthe structureof an action is one which unfolds over time, having a
beginning, middle, andend which arerelatedeitherby necessity or by probability. Once
the action has been set underwayby a specific incident,succeeding incidentseithermust
follow or will usually follow [also cf. Poetics 9. 1453b34]. It is because they arejoined
by such necessity or likelihood that the episodes come together, in a unified plot, to
instance a "universal"structureof action.
Aristotle'srecurrentuse, in thesepassages,of thephraseologyof "necessityandlikelihood"parallelshis characterizationof naturein Physics 2.5 as therealmof whathappens
"always or for the most part"(the accountof naturalprocesses in Physics 2.8 carriesthis
still further).As Aristotlehimself remarksin thePoetics, theaccountof theplot as having
a beginning, middle, and end gives it a unity analogous to that of a living creature
[7.1450b34]. Indeed, this whole discussion is drawnfrom Plato's accountat Phaedrus
264c, which is explicitly based on the idea of a living creature.It is thusrashto dissociate
the tragic action, presentedin the plot, from naturealtogether.
In fact, praxis in Aristotle basically signifies not intentional acts but the proper
motion of any entity which can exist as a substance,and this sortof motion, in his sense,
In general,Aristotleunderstandshumanaction not as the
can be nothingbut "natural."26
result of some supernaturalintrusion into the course of nature-as thinkers from
Augustine to Kant, for example, understandit in terms of the "will"-but as a natural
process, embeddedwithin the larger,and likewise natural,cosmic order.As the doctor
merely intervenesin naturalphysiologicalprocesses, so manin general,in all hispraxeis,
operatesin accordancewith nature,interveningin andmodifyingthe naturalprocesses of
the cosmos but initiating nothing ex nihilo.27 Thus it is that, though Oedipus blames
Apollo and himself for his blinding [OT 1329], what is "at fault"for the whole disaster
is referredto not as a divinitybut as fortune(tuche)[OT442,977 f.], fate (moira) [OT863,
1458], and time itself [OT 1212]. A child of the first of these, Oedipuswaxes and wanes
with the moons, as we saw; he is a naturalbeing, and the revelationof this is his undoing
[OT438]: all thingsarenoble in theirtime [OT 1516], andhis time as a happymanis over.
Oedipus's action in the play is then a process of discovery which results in his
cleansing himself of his vision. On a morebasic level, however, the action of the play is
a naturalprocess of catharsis: thatby which the sufferingmother,the earthof Thebes, is
in the course of time cleansed of the cleverness and daringof Oedipus.
Answersfrom the Mother
The questions with which I began can now, briefly, be answered.
1. The motherof the Thebans,the Thebanearthitself, is not invokedat the beginning
of theplay, becausepartof the purposeof theplay (as of thispaper)is to penetratebeneath
the "masculine"veneer of purposiveaction and to disclose the catharticprocess of that
very mother-earth. Hence, Oedipus the stateman and political healer, who in the
beginning uses medical terminology[cf. OT68, 99], becomes Oedipusthe quasi-female
naturalbeing. This is a level of the play that Aristotle,philosopherof purposiveaction
and of most otherthings masculine,does not mention. But his biological use of the word
"catharsis"provides the key to unlock it.
2. The introductionof blood into the metaphor of the storm is not a simple
26. Metaphysics
9.9.1048b22;cf.Politics1254a7f.;alsocf.JoachimRitter,"DieLehrevom
undPolitik(Frankfurt:Suhrkamp,
UrsprungundSinnderTheoriebeiAristoteles,"Metaphysik
1969)25f.
27. Cf.de Anima3.10for humanagencyas rationallyordering,butnotbeginning,actions.
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