Abstract

But since the Greeks first wrote what they called tragedies and comedies, and Aristotle in The Poetics formulated some distinctions about them, writers have been conscious of the two modes as engaging them in different undertakings, involving them in different worlds, each with its own demands. They have gauged their predilections and capacities against the demands of each and have deliberately chosen one or the other, or some calculated mixture. They are often quite explicit about it. Shakespeare announced his plays as "tragedies" or "comedies" or, when he chose, he mixed the forms with the recklessness of Polonius. Marlowe spoke his intention when in the Prologue to Tamburlaine he asked his audience to view his hero in "the tragic glass." Ben Jonson ventured into tragedy in his own scholarly, methodical way, boasting to have discharged all the crucial "offices of a Tragic writer," which he lists straight out of Aristotle. Milton's choice of the tragic form to express his final mood was of course deliberate and, especially in relation to the tragic undertones of his great epic, significant. Artists are free--but free to choose their own sort of bondage. It is they and not so much the critics who have worked to maintain the integrity of the forms. Their conscious, explicit choices show that in their eyes the forms are real, and different, and not merely an academic conspiracy. The phenomenon is a powerful example of the fruitful interaction of tradition and individual talent.