Did you know that Hollywood execs assess screenplays using 'exactly' the same criteria found in Aristotle? Or that Rocky can be analysed following the 'story structure' of Sophocles' Oedipus Rex, which the Daddy of Lit.Crit examined to demonstrate 'timeless universal truths' about drama?
And did you know that Aristotle talked about 'the three unities of dramatic action: time, place, and action'?
Neither did I!
Poor Aristotle, and poor us! Crumpling under this veritable barrage of howlingly wrong interpretations of an ancient fragment of literary criticism by a terrific guy who was writing a work-in-progress, always looking out for new ideas, testing out his theories and modifying them as he went along.
To treat his Poetics as a completed and revised treatise of the art and craft of drama is an insult. He wasn't interested in setting the Ten Commandments on How To Write a Play in stone. And, my God, he'd be furious if he could see how perversely his work has been mangled and torn and chewed over (and spat out on poor aspiring screenwriters' scripts).
Let's for once give this man the courtesy and respect of reading what he actually wrote, and put a stop, once and for all, to putting words into his mouth.
The Big One:
'A whole is that which has a beginning, a middle, and an end.
A beginning is that which does not itself follow anything by causal necessity, but after which something naturally is or comes to be.
An end, on the contrary, is that which itself naturally follows some other thing, either by necessaity, or as a rule, but has nothing following it.
A middle is that which follows something as some other thing follows it.'
Let's look at the definition of 'middle'. It seems like tautology, but the context shows that the word 'follows' here marks a causal sequence, not a mere temporal sequence. So the 'middle' unlike the 'beginning' stands in casual relation to what goes before, and unlike the 'end' is causally linked to what follows.
THERE IS NO ATTEMPT TO MARK AT WHICH POINT THE 'MIDDLE' IS TO BE PLACED
What's absolutely crucial about Aristotle's ideas about the unity of tragic action is that it is an organic unity, an inward principle which reveals itself in the form of an outward whole. And what he's stressing is that the incidents of the play must be connected together by an inward and causal bond. Also, he makes a point of not laying down any precise rules about the length of a play.
Related to this is a brilliant parenthesis in his Simple and Complex Plot section which has been hijacked, uncredited, by many unoriginal minds as if they're thought it up all by themselves!
'(There is a crucial difference between one thing happening merely after something else, and the same thing happening because of it)'
There's a whole lot more I could add, but haven't got time now. But for now I'll just go back to those quotes I gave at the start.
1. I don't know how any criteria of assessment can be 'exactly' the same as those used by Aristotle on Greek Tragedies when there are quite a few times when his remarks are at complete variance to what the plays are actually like. And anyway, which criteria are these guys using? Much of Aristotle's work has been so profoundly misinterpreted by others, most people go by 'interpretations' (usually wrong ones) written later.
This is a whole new topic - maybe I'll get back to this one.
2. No, Aristotle never talked about 'Unity of Place'. Like so many Renaissance scholars and writers, the Italian theorist Lodovico Castelvetro wildly misunderstood the ancient philosopher's words, and made up 'The Three Unities' (of time, place and action). Unfortunately, everyone assumed this was a prescriptive from Aristotle himself.
I 'm definitely coming back to Hollywood and Aristotle in another blog.
Friday, 30 April 2010
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Why The So-Called '3-Act Structure' Should Carry a Mental Health Warning
So there I am, staring into this abyss right out of Dante's inferno. Or a huge gaping hole in the Earth's structure and a booming, terror-striking Voice behind me is screaming 'Jump! There's something like 60 miles between me and the place I've got to get to. But it's OK, the Voice says, you've made it this far. You've managed to get 30 miles here with no problem, and when you get you to the other side of that hole, it's a piece of piss. Home and dry because you've got the right directions to get you to the end of the journey. I have?
I look down, my heart beating like crazy into my parched mouth. Two fragile looking crutches suddenly land at my feet. The Voice, getting very tetchy now, is telling me to use the crutches, and I know for certain now this expedition is doomed. It is crazy. I must stick one crutch right where I'm standing now, to mark the end of the first leg of my journey, then 'all I have to do' is get through the next 60 miles and put the second crutch where I land.
I've even got a nice perfectly drawn diagram in my sweating palm. It's so simple. A horizontal line traversed by two vertical lines. What could be easier? I've even managed to follow that funny little symbol when I'd travelled twenty five miles and changed direction.
But before I get to the other side of this gigantic chasm, now in my imagination, grown into the size of the universe, I'll have to make sure I stop at exactly the 85 mile point and change direction again. The Voice says, 'Well, it could be at 90 miles'. Oh, right, thanks. Nice to know I'm allowed to use my own instincts, although I seem to have lost them.
Better go with the 85 mile option. Should I go left, or right, or...turn back? No, the Voice has told me this must be a linear journey (apart from the two directional changes) but even they have to be really in a straight line. But I'd like to loop back to where I started. The Voice is screeching with pitying disdain now. Can a voice give a withering look and make you feel like a shrivelled worm? 'No-one but a fool would do that!'
OK, so here I am. Here. I've made it so far, only double what I've travelled so far and I can be over there.
Does anyone have a plane I could borrow? Second thoughts, don't bother. I'll stick to the day job.
I look down, my heart beating like crazy into my parched mouth. Two fragile looking crutches suddenly land at my feet. The Voice, getting very tetchy now, is telling me to use the crutches, and I know for certain now this expedition is doomed. It is crazy. I must stick one crutch right where I'm standing now, to mark the end of the first leg of my journey, then 'all I have to do' is get through the next 60 miles and put the second crutch where I land.
I've even got a nice perfectly drawn diagram in my sweating palm. It's so simple. A horizontal line traversed by two vertical lines. What could be easier? I've even managed to follow that funny little symbol when I'd travelled twenty five miles and changed direction.
But before I get to the other side of this gigantic chasm, now in my imagination, grown into the size of the universe, I'll have to make sure I stop at exactly the 85 mile point and change direction again. The Voice says, 'Well, it could be at 90 miles'. Oh, right, thanks. Nice to know I'm allowed to use my own instincts, although I seem to have lost them.
Better go with the 85 mile option. Should I go left, or right, or...turn back? No, the Voice has told me this must be a linear journey (apart from the two directional changes) but even they have to be really in a straight line. But I'd like to loop back to where I started. The Voice is screeching with pitying disdain now. Can a voice give a withering look and make you feel like a shrivelled worm? 'No-one but a fool would do that!'
OK, so here I am. Here. I've made it so far, only double what I've travelled so far and I can be over there.
Does anyone have a plane I could borrow? Second thoughts, don't bother. I'll stick to the day job.
Labels:
3 act structure,
gurus,
mental health,
screenwriting
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)