Category: tragedy

Yesterday, we talked a little (or a little more than a little) about how Titus (and Titus Andronicus as a whole) fit into the whole Aristotelian definition of tragedy.  We came to the conclusion that Titus’ hamartia (or error in judgment) was his refusal to spare the life of Tamora’s eldest son, Alarbus, when his own son Lucius calls for a sacrifice to calm the spirits of his dead brothers (Titus’ dead sons).

So that’s the “what”… what about the “why”?  Why does he make this decision?  And why does he make the decisions that further his reversal of fortune?
Continue reading “What Makes a Man Start Fires?”

Yesterday, we discussed the Aristotelian definition of tragedy, and how it centered around three main concepts:

• reversal of fortune
• hamartia
• anagnorisis

Let’s start discussing Titus Andronicus with the last one and move backward…
Continue reading “The Tragedy of Titus”

Titus Andronicus is a play of revenge.  It’s a horror show.

But it is also Shakespeare’s first tragedy, a play in which–according to our old friend Aristotle–our tragic hero is subjected to a reversal of fortune (almost always from good to bad).  This reversal is supposed to create fear and pity in the audience, finally resulting in a catharsis, a release of emotions, an emotional cleansing.
Continue reading “It’s a Tragedy”

And I’m not talking Kate Moss. … I’m talking Senecan Tragedy.

Seneca (the Younger) was a Roman playwright (as well as politician and philosopher), who worked in the first century A.D.  Some of his plays reworked stories of earlier Greek writers (like Sophocles), but in his hands, the plays had a greater focus on the terrible deeds that precipitate the tragic hero’s fall.  Sometimes witches and ghosts were employed to bring about actions (or reactions) by the characters, often prompting them to revenge.

So what does a first century Roman playwright have to do with Titus Andronicus?
Continue reading “The Tragic Model of the Day”

OK, so first read-through done… ready to begin the second, deeper reading.
Continue reading “Digging through the bodies”

As Act Five of Titus Andronicus begins, things are coming to a head.  Somewhere on the outskirts of Rome, Lucius is mustering his troops, his army of Goths.  It’s a little unclear why the Goths would join Lucius since Titus was once their “terror” (V.i.10), but the reason seems to center around their former queen: they want to “be avenged on cursed Tamora” (V.i.16).
Continue reading “Act Five: Uh, Just Death (and no pity)”

Act Four of Titus Andronicus begins with a domestic scene in the Andronicus household.  And as is befitting this play, it begins with fear: grandson Lucius is running, yelling for help.  Who is he running from?  Aunt Lavinia.  She means him no harm, but let’s face facts: if you were a little boy, and your aunt, handless and grunting, was chasing you… well, you’d run, too.  Why is she chasing him?  It turns out he has dropped his school books, but she isn’t trying to return them (she couldn’t pick them up if she did).  No, it’s because she recognizes one of the books, and realizes it (Ovid’s Metamorphosis) can help her tell her story.
Continue reading “Act Four: Life and Death (in which a baby is born, and two–maybe three–people die)”

Act Three, Scene One of Titus Andronicus begins with a procession of Judges and Senators heading to the trial of Martius and Quintus.  Titus, attempting to get them to hear his pleas, prostrates himself before them and gives a long (26 line) speech.  What he doesn’t know is that the audience isn’t there, they’ve walked on by.
Continue reading “Act Three: Can You Give Me a Hand (or 3)?”