Aristotle poetics

Aristotle taught that poetry could be divided into three genres: Tragedy, Comedy, and Epic verse. Poetics focuses mainly on tragedy . Aristotle distinguishes between the three genres of poetry in three ways: differences in the means and objects and the modes of their imitations. Aristotle argued that the function of the tragedy was to evoke emotions of fear or pity in the audience and therefore produce catharsis. He stated that the best form of tragedy was that which consists of a “complex” plot. This plot is one that contains and provokes terror, fear and sympathy. Plot is "the first principle and, as it were, the soul of the tragedy." He stated that once the structure of the plot was understood it was possible to appreciate how tragedy affects the audience. There are many films that are out there that can be compared to Aristotle’s Poetics. I believe that one of these films is Romeo and Juliet.

The idea of the tragic hero is another element of Aristotle’s theology.

According to Aristotle, a tragic hero is a character who is usually of high birth. This character is neither completely good nor is he completely evil either. His downfall is brought about by a tragic weakness or error in judgment. For the audience to accept a tragic ending , it is crucial that the tragic hero be responsible for his own undoing. However at the same time they must remain admired. We see this within the film, “Troy”. The Tragic hero in this circumstance is Achilles.

INTERESTING LINKS-ARISTOTLE POETICS:

http://classics.mit.edu/Aristotle/poetics.1.1.html

http://www.leeds.ac.uk/classics/resources/poetics/poettran.htm

http://philosophy.eserver.org/aristotle/poetics.txt

The Bus ...

We rode steadily under a venomous sky. It spat at us constantly. The road became increasingly repetitive, like an old record that had become suddenly stuck, repeating that same note; that one crackling word. Sleep was vicious, gnawing with sharp teeth it would not let go.

A pungent smell of smoke hung on like those who refused to shut their tired eyes- stubborn and unsettling. There were lined rows of cold steeled sky blue seats. They stood gallantly like soldiers at attention. With tunnel vision I peered out from behind the bold fabric seating.

The floor was speckled with the colours of abandoned and old tattered newspapers. The furrowed and forgotten faces of yesterdays stars were left to watch my every move. Half empty bottles rolled back and forth like a pendulum.
A grey soulless shade plastered every remaining space. It drained the life from the place making even its passengers seem characterless. Everyone wore that same wearisome expression.

An icy exhaustion started to creep up my spine, numbing
my entire body to its core. My mind began to freeze up. I stared out from behind the window, letting sleep take its tight grip. Raindrops trickled down the glass. They all raced each other for first place leaving their tracks along the way. Everything sped faster than before. Outside, the earth and sky became one swirling pattern of colour and light. I watched as the trees rushed by in all their autumn splendour. Their leaves danced in the fiery glow of street lights. They competed with the now vividly burning
stars for attention. I had finally found comfort in the purring
silence. My body all at once gave into the notion of sleep.

Before I let my eyelids drop I thought-One more hour.


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http://www.dailywritingtips.com/creative-writing-101/