As the characters evolve, the talesman devolves
The word of the day (on my word-of-the-day desk calendar) is deuteragonist.
The deuteragonist is the second actor in Greek classical theater. This is meant literally: in the beginning, there was a Chorus and One actor. It might be this actor took on different roles — he might be Zeus and Prometheus, for example — providing no more than one character appeared on stage at any one time. But let’s take what is likely to be more typical, at least in the beginning, that one actor = one character.
In this case we can re-envision Oedipus Tyrannos in quickie-version:
Chorus: In old Thebes, a plague had beset the city, and the people cried out for relief. Their ruler, Oedipus the stranger who had come in answer to old prophecy, vowed that he would spare his people.
Oedipus: Why do the gods send us this plague? What have we done that has offended you, O gods? I will find the answer, and I will punish the criminals, and find relief! No matter what the price, I will solve the riddle and lift the plague from Thebes!
Chorus: So the ruler sent to the Oracle at Delphi, and questioned all who came to him. He was bound to find the solution, and had pity for none who offered him any resistance. Then the Oracle sent the answer, and the Pythoness laid the blame for the gods’ offense upon a criminal at Thebes.
Oedipus: So it comes out at last! And it is even as I feared. There is one among you who has committed a ghastly crime, and for this the gods blame us, and visit the plague upon Thebes! Let him come forward, the miscreant who has so hurt our city!
Chorus: So the ruler made his inquiries, pitiless in his search. And the answer came, that he, Oedipus himself, was the criminal! Without knowing, he had slain his own father, met as a stranger where the road crossed the river. Without knowing, he had wed and lain with his own mother, with whom he shared rule over Thebes. At first the king would not believe it. And then the proof came, that the aged couple whom he had believed his parents, had but adopted him, after he had been exposed. Other witnesses came forward, until there was no doubt in any heart, and at last no doubt in the ruler’s own heart.
Oedipus: Alas! Woe! I am the sinner, I have broken the gods’ own ancient laws! What is my grief, it mounts as high as my own pride once soared! I tear out my eyes, I will not look upon this world longer! Lead me away, let me suffer as should be. I will wander as a beggar, and none will grant me shelter, criminal as I am, offender against the most sacred and oldest taboos. Oh, where may one such as I find rest? What land will even suffer to take my grave within her pure soil?
Chorus: So he went, alone, broken. His father he had killed with his own hand; his mother, sharer of the polluted marriage bed, he had killed through her own hand — she hanged herself in shame and misery at her crime. And so the mighty was fallen, and the high laid low, and the man who had most pride in the city was left as less than the lowest beggar. And so call no man happy until after he is dead.
The big advance comes with the deuteragonist. Now at last we can have scenes we can call ‘dramatic’ in the fullest sense. We can see the scene where Oedipus confronts the messenger from Delphi, and where the old shepherd tells how he found the exposed child, identified by the twisted foot, undoubtedly this man, this king, this Oedipus. We can see Jocasta shudder and pale as the knowledge overtakes her. We can have, at last, true dialogue, give-and-take between the two characters of protagonist and deuteragonist…and later with the tritagonist, when the innovators added a third actor.
In short, we can see Aeschylus and his making of Oedipus Tyrannos.
Let us now conceive the drama as a written tale. In the place of the Chorus, we have the Narrator; the one character is the subject of the tale.
As the Greek drama added actors (and therefore characters), the lines given to the Chorus dwindled, along with the importance of the Chorus.
Is it any wonder then, that some similar work has been whittling away the importance of the Narrator in the Tale?
(Composed on keyboard Monday, July 7, 2008)
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