The Idea of Tragedy

Show me a hero, and I will write you a tragedy.

- F. Scott Fitzgerald

I think it's no coincidence that Fitzgerald and Hamilton, contemporaries of one another, should both write about tragedy.  The times in which they lived saw so much of it.  Edith Hamilton often revisits the idea of the hero suffering nobly throughout her work.  Here is the first thing that I read from her about it.

Why is the death of the ordinary man a wretched, chilling thing which we turn from, while the death of the hero, always tragic, warms us with a sense of quickened life?  Answer this question and the enigma of tragic pleasure is solved.  "Never let me hear that brave blood has been shed in vain," said Sir Walter Scott.  "It sends an imperious challenge down through all the generations."  So the end of a tragedy challenges us.  The great soul in pain and in death transform pain and death.  Through it we catch a glimpse of the Stoic Emperor's Dear City of God, of a deeper ad more ultimate reality than that in which our lives our lived.

- "The Greek Way", pg. 178

   I didn't like her term "tragic pleasure".  I think I associate things with the word "pleasure" that are too much the opposite of "tragedy" so that to hear "tragic pleasure" is an oxymoron.  But the chapter from which this quote was taken did help me to understand a little about why people seem to love those tear-jerker movies so much.  Unless there's alot of action, I don't watch dramas, and I avoid any of those "women" films  at all costs.  I can't relate.  Life inspires enough tears on its own, why go looking for more?  And I especially don't understand the appeal of the victim movies.  Here is a social injustice;  there's nothing you can do about it;  ain't it a shame?  But this chapter shed some light on it.  My deeply religious parents would probably hypothesize that the tragic death of the hero in any story is, at a spiritual level, recognized by the spirit as being an echo of the death of Christ, the ultimate hero, the ultimate tragedy.  I don't know about that, but it is one theory to think about.  I think that there is certainly something in us that recognizes - at a fundamental level - the ancient archetype of the death of the one to save the many, and the heroism inherent when that death is approached by the victim voluntarily.  At any rate, I think that it is all too morbid to spend to much time on.  I don't have the stomach for this stuff.  When are we going to talk about Menander?