Sunteți pe pagina 1din 16

Aristotelian Catharsis and the Purgation of Woman

Author(s): John McCumber


Source: Diacritics, Vol. 18, No. 4 (Winter, 1988), pp. 53-67
Published by: The Johns Hopkins University Press
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/465220 .
Accessed: 10/05/2014 17:14
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .
http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of
content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms
of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.

The Johns Hopkins University Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to
Diacritics.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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.

diacritics / winter 1988

53

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

expel from the spectatorthe catharticemotions, fear andpity, andperhapsothersas well.


Catharsisis not an intellectualizationor cleansing of the emotions, as in the purification
view, but a purgationof them. Tragediansthusheal the soul muchas doctors,often, heal
the body: by getting rid of bad things in it. In the medical view, those bad things are the
emotions themselves;on the religious view, they are some sortof impurityor cloudiness
in the emotions. Freud's concept of the effect of tragedyas a dischargeof unpleasant
emotion clearly follows his uncle-in-law's.3
But Politics 8.7, with its medical language, in fact treats not tragedy but music.4
Indeed, the concern with Aristotle's concept of catharsisis in inverse proportionto the
texts that inspireit, for his explicit discussion of catharsisin tragedyoccupies just a line
and a half of the Poetics [1449b27 f.]. To this, commentatorsusually add, in additionto
Politics 8.7, some passages from Poetics chapters 13 and 14, which do not actually
mention catharsis. But the relevance of passages beyond Aristotle's single explicit
discussion cannot, of course, be determinedunless we alreadyknow something about
what catharsis is. Without such knowledge, both the use of such passages and their
rejection can only multiplyreadings,dilutingeach of them.
Analysis of Aristotle's texts thus underdeterminesthe concept of catharsisrather
hasgiven rise to a sequenceof interpretationsin which,
radically;thisunderdetermination
we saw, a scientific perspective follows on a religious one-a narrativeduplicating,
remarkably,the overarchingnarrativeof modernWestern(male) cultureitself: perhaps
the thinning-outof catharsisis associatedwith a more generalculturaldesertification.In
any case, my approach here will not extend this moder narrative but will seek
illuminationfrom a more ancient source. In Aristotle's view, the supremeexample of
tragedy, the play to which his texts refer more than any other and which is constantly
before his mind at the crucialmomentsis Sophocles's OedipustheKing.5 Does thatplay
itself have anythingto tell us aboutcatharsis?Can it and the Poetics be used as guides
to, or checks on, each otherso thatwe candemarcatea space,open upa topography,within
which the concept of catharsiscan collect itself again,in ourrecollectionof it?6 I will not
ask here if other Greek dramaswould lie within the same topographyfor Aristotle: he
himself, as he tells us, is concernedonly with those tragediesthatare great,and are so by
his own theory [Poetics 13.1453a19, 23]. Sophocles's story of Oedipus at Thebes is
certainlyamong these.
Questionsfrom the King
This demarcationwill be easierbecause Oedipusthe King, like Oedipusthe king, is
a relentless questioner. I will begin by simply listing four questions it poses:
3. ForBernays'sconnectionto Freud,cf. Gilman.
thePoeticsintermsofthePolitics,whichrenderscatharsis
4. Elsearguesagainstconsidering
a ratherminorpartof Aristotle'stheoryof tragedy[Aristotle'sPoetics224-31, 423-47]. Leon
Goldenformulatesthefollowingview: "ThePoliticsconsidersart as an instrument
of the
... thePoeticsdiscussesartin termsof itsessentialnature... thereis every
educationalprocess;
reasonto believethatthe two discussionsof art havenothingto do withone another"["The
Purgation Theoryof Catharsis,"Journalof Aesthetics andArtCriticism31 (1973): 474-79]. But

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

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

1. The play's firstlinerefers to the Thebansas "childrenof Cadmus."Why does their


mother,the earthherself into which Cadmussowed the dragon'steeth,go unmentioned?
Is this merely a case of Hellenic indifferenceto maternalmatters?Why, then, the ensuing reference to "nourishment"(trophe)?
2. Lines 23-25 liken Thebesin its tormentto a persondrowningin a storm. InJebb's
translation,theyrunas follows: "Forthe city... is now too sorely vexed, andcan no more
lift her head from beneaththe angrywaves of death." This, however, fails to capturethe
exact sense ofphoiniou; renderedliterally,the lines say thatthe state cannot lift its head
from waves which are not "angry"but "bloody." Why does Sophocles introducethe
notion of blood into a metaphorthatis already,so to speak,awash with meaning? Is not
Kamerbeek's suggestion that we have here a "metaphorwithin a metaphor"[cited in
Dawe], for all its charity, unduly vague? Jebb, apparentlyattempting to preserve
Sophocles from drowning in incoherence, jumps in to note that phoinios in other
Sophoclean plays is used simply to mean thanasimos,deadly. But he also provides an
example, from theAjax, where it retainsits literalmeaning. And this strangeconnection
of blood with bad weather occurs again at 101 (haima cheimazonpolin) and 1275 ff.
(whereOedipusblinds himself in a "hail"of blood). So the wave is indeed"bloody." But
why? How can blood and stormsbe connectedin a coherentmetaphoric,and why is this
metaphoric,whateverit may be, repeatedlyinvoked?
3. Why does the play take place the night before the full moon? Why is this fact
explicitly noted [OT 1088 f.]? Jebb and Dawe, among others, suggest that the play was
performedthe night before the Pandia,which occurredat the full moon of Elaphebolion.
But this fact of itself hardly requires the chorus to mention the full moon. Are we to
assume thatSophocles is sufficiently ignorant,or uncaring,of the natureof writingas to
call in a reference that would make sense only in the context of the play's original
performance?Why, even in thatoriginalcontext, is the mentionnot a mere distraction?
And just how does this line relate to Oedipus's declaration,a few lines earlier, that he
himself is "kin"to the moons?
4. Why, at the end of the play, is Oedipus so reluctantto go back into his former
palace? Creonordershim to do so at 1430, but he contrivesto remainonstage until 1515,
when Creonrepeatshis command. Even then, Oedipusassents only on conditionthathe
be given permissionto leave not merely the home but the land itself and go into exile. Is
this male pride? Inhumanhubris? Some sort of hamminess?
These questions,I suggest, areconnected. They point us towardsthe intersectionof
blood and the moon, the motherand home: towardsthatterrainwhich traditionallyhas
been given and denied the name of "woman."
But firstthey point us to thatmost classical anti-feminist,Aristotle. For Oedipusthe
King was a majorinfluence on the Poetics, and Aristotle, I suspect, knew more than he
caredto tell abouthow it works. Certainlythe Poetics tells us little enough aboutcertain
things. Its very definitionof tragedyis mysterious,for it startswith mimesis andends with
catharsis without really informing us how the two are related: "A tragedy ... is the
imitationof an action that is serious and also, as having magnitude,complete in itself;.
.. with incidents arousingpity and fear, wherewith to accomplish its catharsisof such
emotions" [Poetics 1449b24 ff.].
Catharsisand mimesis, separatedby three lines of Greek, are, as Gerald Else has
noted, usually left unrelatedby commentators,which brings up anotherquestion I will
addresshere ["Aristotleon the Beauty of Tragedy"196 ff.]. Mimesis, in the traditional
handling,is the functionof the play itself, while catharsisresides in its spectator. But in
Aristotelian terms, they should not be so wholly separate. For mimesis provides the
structureor form of the play, its plot, while catharsisis the play's purpose,its final cause

diacritics / winter 1988

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

biology, as D'Arcy Thompsonfirst suggested,providesa key for understandinghis more


strictlyphilosophicalworks." Suchbeing the case, we oughtto be able to traceAristotle's
concept of catharsisto roots lying beyond the medical realm, in the biological. In doing
so, we could resituate that concept-in, precisely, a terrainmore profound than the
medical, a deeper landscapewithin which to recollect and revivify the concept. Which
biological process we are to use to open up that terrainbecomes clear with a glance at
Bonitz's Index Aristotelicum. Its entry for katharsis containsjust seven references to
aesthetic phenomena-and over sixty to menstruation.'2
The biological paradigm of catharsis, then, is not merely foreign matter to the
metaphysicaltradition. It is (at least, I would hazard,to the averagemetaphysician)one
of the most mysterious and frightening of naturalphenomena. That Aristotle found
menstruationfascinating,if not frightening,is attestedby his lengthydiscussionsof it. To
sum these up as de GenerationeAnimaliumhas them,'3menstruationis the result of an
excess of nourishment. The body, in digestion, works food into a form it can use-that
of blood. When moreof this is producedthanis neededto sustainlife andhealth,thebody
discharges the "useful residues." Along with them are carriedother things the body
cannot use, such as the seeds of disease. The purgingof bad things is thus a contingent
benefit of the real natureof catharsis,which is the elimination of something good and
nourishing,blood. Medical purgationis an imitationof this naturalprocess, artificially
induced for the sake of thatcontingentbenefit.
Such dischargeof useful residuesoccursin males as well, in the ejaculationof semen.
But it is more thoroughlya female phenomenon,because it is ultimatelydue to weakness.
Digestion, we may say, is for Aristotle a struggle to convert food into nourishment,or
blood, and then to absorbthe latter. Females are unable to performthe final absorption
and emit large amountsof blood. Males, being stronger,are able to "overpower"even
theirunneedednourishmentand distill it from blood into the more concentratedsemen,
of which they emit smaller amounts. To menstruateis then to be overpowered by
something that is in itself useful and nourishing.
Among all animals, Aristotle assures us, it is the human which menstruatesmost
copiously andis most troubledby the flow; femalesof otherspecies areinbettercondition.
Men, of course,do not menstruate;menarestrongerthanwomen. But they, too, areworse
off thanmembersof theirgenderin otherspecies, if not physically, thenpsychologically.
For men are more prey to fear than are other male animals. Fear, says Aristotle, is
occasioned by the image (phantasia) of something bad, and the actual presence of the
misfortunedispels the fear of it: when I am actuallyeaten up by the tiger, or am in actual
disgrace,I no longerfear these things.'4Because manis the "rationalanimal,"he is more
awareof causal connectionsthanare membersof otherspecies, and it follows thathe can
be more awareof otherthingsas having the potentialto do him harm. As its Greekname
(andreia) implies-and as the Economics states-courage is the manly virtue.'5Fear is
thenthemanly vice, andit is fear(withwhatwe will see to be its displacement,pity) which
tragic catharsiscleanses from the soul [Poetics 1453a3 ff.].
Or,rather,excess fear.For some fear,as theNicomacheanEthics urges, is good and
necessary-even noble [3.6.1115a12 f.]. Here, I suggest, is the firstplace of four where
11. D'ArcyThompson,trans.,HistoriaAnimalium(Oxford,1910) vii; also cf. Marjorie
Grene,A Portraitof Aristotle(Chicago:U of ChicagoP, 1963)32f.
12. H.Bonitz,IndexAristotelicum
Drucks-undVerlagsanstalt,
(Graz:Akademische
1956)
354b22-355a47. Thiswasfirstpublishedin 1870, whichmeansthatthe menstrualcontextof
Aristoteliancatharsishasgone unremarkedfor
119years.
13. 1.19.726a30ff.;2.4.738a23f.; 4.6.775b5ff; also cf.pseudo-Arist.
Problemata
1.42.
14. Nicomachean
Ethics3.6.1115alOf.;Rhetoric1.16 1368b28;2.8.
15. Economics1343b30-a3;ontheauthenticity
ofthistext,cf.JeanTricot,trans.,inAristotle,
Economique(Paris: JeanVrin,1983)7-9.
diacritics / winter 1988

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

4^
rr
0l

o,,A

94M.

_r"

vow

_)~

'I
diacritics / winter 1988

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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.

Catharsisas Mimesis: The Spectator


Because the spectacle passes throughthe spectatorin this way, Aristotle's conception of catharsiscanot be understoodin termsof the inviolabilityclaimedby the modem
subject. The spectatoris not a mere object, however: he is capable of undergoingthe
displacementof fear into pity, which is non-objective. Indeed,pity can be viewed as a
sort of willed imitationof fear. The audienceof Oedipusthe King, for example, cannot
reallybe afraidthatthey have unknowinglykilled theirfathersandmarriedtheirmothers;
indeed, as Nietzsche pointed out [57], they cannot even, unlike the chorus, fear that
Oedipus has really done so. But it is clear thatif the audiencehad committedOedipus's
crimes, they would fear finding thatout, and thatwhich arousesfear when we thinkof it
happening to ourselves arouses pity when we see it happening to others [Rhetoric
1382b26 f., 1386a27 f.]. Hence, pity is not an externallycaused passion but a displaced
fear: an imitationof it, in which the qualityin questioninheresin an entityto which it does
not, in the primarysense, belong. The audiencedoes not really fearthatwhat happensto
Oedipus-the public revelationof his crimes-will happento them, for they know their
own birthsand the fates (to date) of theirparents. But they imitatethatfear. Moreover,
it is when the imitationis seen as an imitation-when it is fully experiencedas whatit is,
or achieves its full natureas an imitation-that catharsiscomes about. Catharsisis thus
the naturalcompletionof mimesis in this sense: the recognitionthatthe spectacleis only
a spectacle, an imitationand not reality, is its passing out of the body, as opposed to its
absorptioninto a basis for action.
But thereis a second, morereallevel of fearoperativehere. Freudargued,of course,
that identificationwith the tragic hero is justified. The spectatorshares with the hero a
desire to rebel againstsocial constraintsor, indeed, the universeitself (as Oedipus,in his
original crimes, rebelled unwittinglyagainstthe very natureof things). Indeed,in what
Freudcalls psychological drama,the spectatormusteither sharethe neurosisof the hero
orbe broughtto do so temporarilyby the dramatist:"therepressedimpulseis one of those
which are similarlyrepressedin all of us" [309]. On this level, what actually happensto
Oedipus is an instanceof a more generaltype of fearfulthing, having one's own secrets,
whatever they may be, publicly revealed. For Freud,as the quote above suggests, one
natureof shuddering,cf. pseud.Arist.,
17. Poetics1453a2if., b4 if.; for the involuntary
Problemata7.886b9ff.

18. Nicomachean
Ethics3.1; also cf. 2.3.1112b32ff.; 6.2.1139b3ff.
19. kouphizesthai,Politics1342a14; cf. k'anakouphisaiat OT 23.

60

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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.

diacritics / winter 1988

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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.

Mimesis as Catharsis: The Spectacle


We find that, in a complex and tacit way, catharsis in the spectatoris actually a
mimesis. On a first, overt level, the spectatorfeels a sympathetic,imitationfear-in the
case of the spectatorof OedipustheKing, thathe will kill his fatherandmarryhis mother,
like the protagonistwith whom he identifies. This mimetic fear passes throughhim in a
real process of catharsis,just as an herbtakenby a woman to bring on her periodpasses
throughher body, bringingthe blood and takingwith it othercatharmata.On its deepest
level, catharsisis a mimesis of menstruationitself.
22. Cf. Sarah Pomeroy, Goddesses, Whores, Wives, and Slaves: Women in Classical
Antiquity (New York: Schocken, 1975) 57-119; Thucydides,History of the PeloponnesianWar
2.45.2.
23. The relief is,for Freud asfor Aristotle,unacknowledged.For Freud's problemswith the
issue of male menstruation,whichwas an anti-Semiticcanardfrommedievaltimeson (Jewishmen
were asserted to menstruate),cf. Gilman.

62

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

While no one seems to have attemptedto find mimesis in the spectator,numerous


writers have tried to locate catharsis in the play itself. In these readings, either the
charactersundergoit-as RichardB. Sewall holds Oedipus does-or the events themselves in the play are somehow "cleansed"as the play goes on, as Leon Golden and K. G.
Srivastava have argued.24 Catharsiscertainly occurs in Oedipus the King but more
straightforwardlythanany of these authorshave suggested: the chorus,in its wordsfrom
theearlyphrenapallon [OT150] to its final serenityonce theevil is safely dispelled,offers
some of the greatestexpressionsof the "catharticemotions,"fear andpity, thathave ever
been written. In the chorus,catharsisis actuallydepicted;the completionof this mimesis
is, again, a catharsis,for the chorus gets rid of its fear and achieves final, generalized
resignationin the face of death itself [OT 1524-30]. But this, we might say, is because
the chorusis not on eitherside of the line between spectacleand spectators,but straddles
it: it is a spectatoron the stage, not partof the plot. Thus, while we have found catharsis
and mimesis togetheron the line, so to speak,between play and spectator,we have yet to
find it withinthe play itself. Canwe say thatin telling its storytheplay depicts a catharsis,
in addition to provoking one in the spectator? What if, indeed, tragedy for Aristotle
ultimatelytells the storyof a catharsis?Thencatharsiswould be the connectingconcept,
the formativeguiding threadof the whole plot-and it would culminate,as Aristotelian
form should, in the attainmentof itself as telos: the completion of the story itself depicts
the achievement of catharsis.
Aristotle does not say this, and his texts do not serve as a guide in this matter. Yet
his view that the tragic plot begins with a miaron suggests that the play does somehow
presentus with the cleansingof a blood pollution. And this may not be unconnectedwith
catharsis,on our menstrualreadingof that. So I will use the Poetics as a check, turning
first to Oedipus the King to find out whetheror not the story it tells can be construedas
a catharsis. I will thenreturnto Aristotleto suggest thatthis readingof OedipustheKing
illuminatestwo of Aristotle'sotheraestheticconcepts,those of the tragicflaw (hamartia)
and of action (praxis).
Armedwith ourawarenessof theconnectionbetweencatharsisandblood, we can see
thatan importantsymbolic catharsisis undergoneby Oedipushimself, at 1275 ff. I quote
Jebb's translationof the messenger'sreport:". . not once alone butoft struckhe his eyes
with lifted hand;and at each blow the ensanguinedeyeballs bedewed his beard,nor sent
forthsluggish dropsof gore, but all at once a darkshowerof blood came down like hail."
Here again,Jebb's translationmisses one importantthing. The wordhe translatesas
"eyeballs,"glenai, has thatas its firstmeaningin, forexample,Liddell andScott. Reading
it thus, Oedipus's self-mutilationis an obvious act of self-castration. But is this all there
is to it? After all, Oedipusdoes not cut but stabs himself, and repeatedly,with a pair of
sharpspikes. This does not sound much like an act of castration.
Glene's thirdmeaning in Liddell and Scott is "socketof a joint," and one wonders
if the termshouldbe translatedas "socket"in thepresentpassage as well. Of Liddell and
Scott's two main attestationsof "eyeball,"Iliad 14.494 concerns Ilioneus, whose glene,
clearly an eyeball, is knocked out by a spear. But that the term can refer to the socket,
ratherthanmerelythe ball, of theeye is suggestedby the otherattestation,Odyssey9.390.
This refersto Polyphemus,whose eye is putout by an enormoussharpenedlog andwhose
eyeball may very well, at that point, have been crushed into non-existence. And
Autenriethnotes thatlliad 7.164 uses glene, presumablyin a sense derivedfrom"socket,"
as a pejorativefor "woman"(like the English "cunt").
24. Among these we may mentionScott Buchanan,Poetry andMathematics (Philadelphia:
Lippincott,1962) 148; Else, Aristotle's Poetics 229; Leon Golden, "Catharsis,"Proceedingsof
the AmericanPhilological Society 93 (1962): 51-60; RichardB. Sewall, The Vision of Tragedy
(New Haven: Yale UP, 1959) 21; and K. G. Srivastava, "HowDoes TragedyAchieve Katharsis?"
British Joural of Aestheticsl5 (1975): 132-43.

diacritics / winter 1988

63

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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.

diacritics / winter 1988

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

65

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.
66

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

incoherencebutpoints beyond meteorologyto menstruation,the blood-stormof woman.


It indicatesthatthe storyto be told is, so to speak,one of social menstruationor catharsis.
In it, somethingin itself good butpresentto excess is drivenout of the social organisma kind ofpraxis thatAristotledoes not mentionbutwhich his conceptscan accommodate.
3. Because this is a naturalprocess,andone in accordancewith themonths,it is fitting
thatthe play take place aroundthe time of the moon's fullness. And it is fitting thatthe
chorus-spectator andactorin one-call attentionto it. For the almost-fullmoon would
then referat once to the catharsisdepicted in the play and to thateffected in the spectator
by the yearly round of tragedy. It would remind a readerof the culturaland political
context of the play, one which he ignoresat his peril. And it would show thatour identity
is to be not merely the kind of culturalcatch-basinto which the beginning of this paper
appealedbut nourishmentfor natureitself-nourishment which can at any time become
excessive, and hence discardable.
4. If the play penetrates "masculine" veneers to reveal "feminine" processes
underlyingthem,we mustadmitthatOedipushimself-like Aristotle-does not mention
this. But his refusalto go back into the palace shows it. For the doorof the palace stands
open before him like a giant vagina, traditionalrefuge of the unmanly;28and behind the
door is the home, the crypt of woman. To be in the home, where, as Creon notes, only
kinsmen will see and hearhim [OT 1430 f.], would socially ratifyhis own feminization.
This, I suggest, is why Oedipus fights so fearfully to stay on stage, or to leave Thebes
altogether: better,he is saying, to be an exile on the roads thana woman in the home.29
WORKS CITED
Autenrieth,Georg. A HomericDictionary. Trans.RobertP. Keep. Rev. Isaac Flagg.
Norman: U of OklahomaP, 1958.
Bennett,KennethC. "ThePurgingof Catharsis."BritishJournalofAesthetics21 (1981):
204-13.
Bywater, Ingram. Aristotle on the Art of Poetry. Oxford:Clarendon,1909.
Dawe, R. D., ed. OedipusRex. Cambridge:CambridgeUP, 1982.
Else, Gerald F. "Aristotle on the Beauty of Tragedy."Harvard Studies in Classical
Philology 49 (1938): 179-204.
Aristotle' Poetics. Cambridge,MA: HarvardUP, 1967.
Freud, Sigmund."PsychopathicCharacterson the Stage." Trans.James Strachey. The
StandardEdition of the CompletePsychological Worksof SigmundFreud. Trans.
James Stracheyet al. London: Hogarth,1953-74. 7 (1953): 305-10.
Gilman,Sander."PsychiatryandPsychoanalysis."CriticalInquiry13 (1987): 293-313.
Liddell,HenryGeorge,andRobertScott. A Greek-EnglishLexicon.Oxford: Clarendon,
1968.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Birth of Tragedy. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York:
Random House, 1967.
Sophocles. ThePlays and FragmentsI: The OedipusTyrannus. Trans.RichardJebb.
Amsterdam: Hakkert,1966.
van Braam,P. "Aristotle'sUse of Hamartia." Classical Quarterly 6(1912): 266-72.
Verdenius,W. J. "katharsistonpathematon." Autourd'Aristote. Receuil d'etudes de
philosophie ancienneet medievaleofferta Msgr.A. Mansion. Louvain:Publications
universitariesde Louvain, 1955.
28. When,in 102 BC, the men of the Cimbriwere retreatingbefore the Romans,the women
of the tribe lifted their dresses as the men ran towardsthem,saying "Ifyou're afraid, run back in
whereyou camefromand hide there": RendAlleauet al., Guidede la Provencemyst6rieuse(Paris:
Tchou Princesse, 1982) 566.
29. Only laterdoes he come, likea contemporaryhousehusband,to "tastethesweets ofhome"
[Oedipus at Coloneus 339ff., 431 ff, 769].

diacritics / winter 1988

This content downloaded from 148.206.159.132 on Sat, 10 May 2014 17:14:50 PM


All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

67

S-ar putea să vă placă și