Handbook of Universal Literature, From the Best and Latest Authorities

by Anne C. Lynch Botta

The whole structure of the theatre, as well as the drama itself, may be traced to the chorus, whose station was the original centre of the whole performance. The orchestra, which occupied a circular level space in the centre of the building, grew out of the chorus or dancing-place of the Homeric times. The altar of Bacchus, around which the dithyrambic chorus danced in a circle, had given rise to a sort of raised platform in the centre of the orchestra, which served as a resting-place for the chorus.

The chorus sang alone when the actors had quitted the stage, or alternately with the persons of the drama, and sometimes entered into dialogues with them. These persons represented heroes of the mythical world, whose whole aspect bespoke something mightier and more sublime than ordinary humanity, and it was the part of the chorus to show the impression made by the incidents of the drama on lower and feebler minds, and thus, as it were, to interpret them to the audience, with whom they owned a more kindred nature. The ancient stage was remarkably long, and of little depth; it was called the proscenium, because it was in front of the scene. Scene properly means tent or hut, such as originally marked the dwelling of the principal person. This hut at length gave place to a stately scene, enriched with architectural decorations, yet its purpose remained the same.

We have seen how a single actor was added to the chorus by Thespis, who caused him to represent in succession all the persons of the drama. Aeschylus added a second actor in order to obtain the contrast of two acting persons on the stage; even Sophocles did not venture beyond the introduction of a third. But the ancients laid more stress upon the precise number and mutual relations of these actors than can here be explained.

4. THE TRAGIC POETS.—Aeschylus (525-477 B.C.), like almost all the great masters of poetry in ancient Greece, was a poet by profession, and from the great improvements which he introduced into tragedy he was regarded by the Athenians as its founder. Of the seventy tragedies which he is said to have written, only seven are extant. Of these, the "Prometheus" is beyond all question his greatest work. The genius of Aeschylus inclined rather to the awful and sublime, than to the tender and pathetic. He excels in representing the superhuman, in depicting demigods and heroes, and in tracing the irresistible march of fate. The depth of poetical feeling in him is accompanied with intense and philosophical thought; he does not merely represent individual tragical events, but he recurs to the greater elements of tragedy—the subjection of the gods and Titans, and the original dignity and greatness of nature and of man. He delights to portray this gigantic strength, as in his Prometheus chained and tortured, but invincible; and these representations have a moral sublimity far above mere poetic beauty. His tragedies were at once political, patriotic, and religious.

Sophocles (495-406 B.C.), as a poet, is universally allowed to have brought the drama to the highest degree of perfection of which it was susceptible. Indeed, the Greek mind may be said to have culminated in him; his writings overflow with that indescribable charm which only flashes through those of other poets. His plots are worked up with more skill and care than those of either of his great rivals, Aeschylus or Euripides, and he added the last improvement to the form of the drama by the introduction of a third actor,—a change which greatly enlarged the scope of the action. Of the many tragedies which he is said to have written, only seven are extant. Of these, the "Oedipus Tyrannus" is particularly remarkable for its skillful development, and for the manner in which the interest of the piece increases through each succeeding act. Of all the poets of antiquity, Sophocles has penetrated most deeply into the recesses of the human heart. His tragedies appear to us as pictures of the mind, as poetical developments of the secrets of our souls, and of the laws to which their nature makes them amenable.

In Euripides (480-407 B.C.) we discover the first traces of decline in the Greek tragedy. He diminished its dignity by depriving it of its ideal character, and by bringing it down to the level of every-day life. All the characters of Euripides have that loquacity and dexterity in the use of words which distinguished the Athenians of his day; yet in spite of all these faults he has many beauties, and is particularly remarkable for pathos, so that Aristotle calls him the most tragic of poets. Eighteen of his tragedies are still extant.

The contemporaries of the three great tragic poets, Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, must be regarded for the most part as far from insignificant, since they maintained their place on the stage beside them, and not unfrequently gained the tragic prize in competition with them; yet the general character of these poets must have been deficient in that depth and peculiar force of genius by which these great tragedians were distinguished. If this had not been the case, their works would assuredly have attracted greater attention, and would have been read mere frequently in later times.

5. COMEDY.—Greek comedy was distinguished as the Old, the Middle, and the New. As tragedy arose from the winter feast of Bacchus, which fostered an enthusiastic sympathy with the apparent sorrows of the god of nature, comedy arose from the concluding feast of the vintage, at which an exulting joy over the inexhaustible riches of nature manifested itself in wantonness of every kind. In such a feast, the Comus, or Bacchanalian procession, was a principal ingredient. This was a tumultuous mixture of the wild carouse, the noisy song, and the drunken dance; and the meaning of the word comedy is a comus song. It was from this lyric comedy that the dramatic comedy was gradually produced. It received its full development from Cratinus, who lived in the age of Pericles. Cratinus and his younger contemporaries, Eupolis (431 B.C.) and Aristophanes (452-380 B.C.), were the great poets of the old Attic comedy. Of their works, only eleven dramas of Aristophanes are extant. The chief object of these comedies was to excite laughter by the boldest and most ludicrous caricature, and, provided that end was obtained, the poet seems to have cared little about the justice of the picture. It is scarcely possible to imagine the unmeasured and unsparing license of attack assumed by these comedies upon the gods, the institutions, the politicians, philosophers, poets, private citizens, and women of Athens. With this universal liberty of subject there is combined a poignancy of derision and satire, a fecundity of imagination, and a richness of poetical expression such as cannot be surpassed. Towards the end of the career of Aristophanes, however, this unrestricted license of the comedy began gradually to disappear.

The Old comedy was succeeded by the Middle Attic comedy, in which the satire was no longer directed against the influential men or rulers of the people, but was rich in ridicule of the Platonic Academy, of the newly revived sect of the Pythagoreans, and of the orators, rhetoricians, and poets of the day. In this transition from the Old to the Middle comedy, we may discern at once the great revolution that had taken place in the domestic history of Athens, when the Athenians, from a nation of politicians, became a nation of literary men; when it was no longer the opposition of political ideas, but the contest of opposing schools of philosophers and rhetoricians, which set all heads in motion. The poets of this comedy were very numerous.

The last poets of the Middle comedy were contemporaries of the writers of the New, who rose up as their rivals, and who were only distinguished from them by following the new tendency more decidedly and exclusively. Menander (342-293 B.C.) was one of the first of these poets, and he is also the most perfect of them. The Athens of his day differed from that of the time of Pericles, in the same way that an old man, weak in body but fond of life, good-humored and self-indulgent, differs from the vigorous, middle-aged man at the summit of his mental strength and bodily energy. Since there was so little in politics to interest or to employ the mind, the Athenians found an object in the occurrences of social life and the charm of dissolute enjoyment. Dramatic poetry now, for the first time, centred in love, as it has since done among all nations to whom the Greek cultivation has descended. But it certainly was not love in those nobler forms to which it has since elevated itself. Menander painted truly the degenerate world in which he lived, actuated by no mighty impulses, no noble aspirations. He was contemporary with Epicurus, and their characters had much in common; both were deficient in the inspiration of high moral ideas.