Tragedy: A Lesson in Survival Author(s): CHRISTOPHER PERRICONE Source: Journal of Aesthetic Education, Vol. 44, No.

1 (SPRING 2010), pp. 70-83 Published by: University of Illinois Press Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5406/jaesteduc.44.1.0070 . Accessed: 18/04/2011 03:17
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use. Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at . http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=illinois. . Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed page of such transmission. JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.

University of Illinois Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Journal of Aesthetic Education.

http://www.jstor.org

Tragedy: A Lesson in Survival

CHRISTOPHER PERRICONE
Tragedy and Its Historical Context Tragedy in the strict sense of the word refers to an ancient Greek literary genre, a form of drama for the most part performed publicly in the theater. As is well known, the word tragedy literally means goat song. The belief among scholars is that early singers of tragedy wore goatskin costumes in imitation of satyrs. Also, as is well known, Aristotle defines tragedy in the strict sense of the word as the imitation of an action that is serious and also having magnitude, complete in itself; in language with pleasurable accessories, each kind brought in separately in the parts of the work; in a dramatic, not in a narrative form; with incidents arousing pity and fear, wherewith to accomplish its catharsis of such emotions.1 Of course, when one thinks of tragedy in the strict sense the names that come to mind are Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. It is arguable that these men not only set the stage for and developed the idea of tragedy in the strict sense, but they also laid the foundations of tragedy for centuries to come. After the Greeks, not surprisingly, tragedy evolves. The strict sense of the term as a point of reference, origin, or nucleus, remainsthat is, after the Greeks, tragedy still retains that sense of an imitation of an action that is serious. However, when one considers what later goes by the name of tragedy, one is hard-pressed, without resorting to Procrustean measures, to fit with any precision those later works of tragedy into the original Greek mold. After the Greeks, Seneca composes tragedies, as do Marlowe, Shakespeare, Corneille, Racine, Goethe, Schiller, Ibsen, Chekov, Lorca, Anouilh, Miller, et al. Even the sense of serious is not exactly the same: is the seriousness of Hedda Gablers or Willie Lomans fate at all comparable to the fates of
Christopher Perricone is a professor in the Department of Philosophy at Iona College. His interests include philosophy of art, neo-Darwinism, and neuroscience. He has had work published in the Journal of Aesthetic Education, Aesthetics and Art Criticism, and the British Journal of Aesthetics, among many other journals. He has also had a volume of poetry published, as well as poems published in literary magazines.

Journal of Aesthetic Education, Vol. 44, No. 1, Spring 2010 2010 Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois

Tragedy: A Lesson in Survival

71

Medea or Oedipus? The former cases surely seem serious in some domestic sense, whereas the latter clearly are intended to imply seriousness on a much grander and perhaps cosmic scale. The reason I mention all this is that tragedy, both in what I call the strict and nuclear ancient Greek sense of the term (which does not imply that tragedy is clearly and distinctly defined, even in ancient Greece) and in the looser, derived sense of the word, has a long and compelling history. Tragedy is a form of drama to which we continually return. It is a genre that seems intrinsic not only to our very idea of theater but also to the very nature of art itself. Although one may debate the plausibility of writing tragedies in a disillusioned and nonheroic age, nevertheless one can hardly imagine the theater existing without tragedy. One way or another, it seems tragedies, whether in the strict or loose sense, will always be performed, and not merely out of nostalgia. Indeed, given the compelling nature of tragedy, it seems no accident that among the giants of literature, the tragedians are significantly represented. The compelling nature of tragedy is nicely expressed by the literary critic F. L. Lucas, and his statements should be considered a complement to Aristotle: Tragedy, then, is a representation of human unhappiness, which pleases us notwithstanding, by the truth with which it is seen and the fineness with which it is communicatedlamertume poignante et fortifiante de tout ce qui est vrai. [The invigorating and poignant bitterness of whatever is true; my translation.] The world of everyday seems often a purposeless chaos, a mangy tiger without even the fearful symmetry of Blakes vision; but the world of tragedy we can face, for we feel mind behind it and the symmetry is there. Tragedy, in fine, is mans answer to this universe that crushes him so pitilessly. Destiny scowls upon him; his answer is to sit down and paint her where she stands.2 It is not only true that tragedy as practice and performance has a long and rich history; the study of tragedy has an equally long and rich history. The idea of tragedy has attracted, tantalized, frustrated, and exercised some of the best minds in the history of philosophy and literary criticism. As the writers of tragedy form a constellation of superstars in literature, the many commentators on tragedy are superstars in their own right. As I mentioned, Aristotle forms the nucleus of what tragedy was and what it was to become. However, one must remember that before Aristotle, Plato discussed tragedy as part of his critique of mimesis in general. Like painting, Plato argued, tragedy, too, was merely an imitation of an imitation. Like the epic and dithyrambic poets, tragedians didnt know what they were talking about. Furthermore, unlike Aristotle, Plato didnt think tragedy produced a catharsis; rather, he spoke of the dangers of uncontrollable emotions and their negative moral consequences. After Plato and Aristotle, more superstars discuss the

72

Perricone

idea of tragedy, positively and negatively, optimistically and pessimistically. I am thinking of Hume, Hegel, Schopenhauer, and Nietzsche. What follows is merely a sketch of their thinking about tragedy. Hume wonders in Of Tragedy why we find pleasure in disagreeable passions, such as sorrow, terror, and anxiety. He thinks that Abbe Dubois is partly correct. According to Hume, Dubois argued that No matter what the passion is; let it be disagreeable, afflicting, melancholy, disordered; it is still better than that insipid languor which arises from perfect tranquility and repose.3 Hume also thinks Fontenelle is partly correct. Fontenelle argued that the difference between pleasure and pain is only a difference in degree. What is painful in reality may well be pleasant in the theater. Hume anticipates the idea of psychical distance when he says: We weep for the misfortune of a hero to whom we are attached. In the same instant we comfort ourselves by reflecting, that it is nothing but a fiction: and it is precisely that mixture of sentiments which composes an agreeable sorrow, and tears that delight us.4 Ultimately, Hume concludes that tragedy pleases because it inspires both natural and artistic passions, with the latter having power over the former. Thus, The passion, though perhaps naturally, and when excited by the simple appearance of a real object, it may be painful; yet is so smoothed, and softened, and mollified, when raised by the finer arts, that it affords the highest entertainment.5 It is extraordinarily difficult to summarize Hegels view of tragedy. However, for my purposes a few salient remarks will do. It is accepted by many readers of Hegel that he preferred ancient to modern tragedieswhat I have called tragedy in the strict and loose sense, respectively. Modern tragedies are tainted with excessive subjectivity and individuality, which do not allow the particular discords expressed through tragedy to be finally harmonized and reconciled by a higher and a nobler unity. Such harmonies and reconciliations are what ancient tragedy is all about: The essentially tragic fact is the self division and intestinal warfare of the ethical substance, not so much the war of good with evil as the war of good with good.6 So Hegel argues: The principal source of opposition, which Sophocles, in particular, in this respect following the lead of Aeschylus, has accepted and worked out in the finest way, is that of the body politic, the opposition, that is, between ethical life in its social universality and the family as the natural ground of moral relations. These are the purest forces of tragic representation. It is, in short, the harmony of these spheres and the concordant action within the bounds of their realized content, which constitute the perfected reality of the moral life.7 Hegel goes on to mention Antigone, the locus classicus of his position, along with Seven against Thebes, Iphigenia in Aulis, Agamemnon, Electra, etc. Hegel concludes by saying that A content of this type retains its force through all times, and its presentation, despite all difference of nationality, vitally

Tragedy: A Lesson in Survival

73

arrests our human and artistic sympathies.8 Among the many views of tragedy that have come down to us since Plato and Aristotle, Hegels is perhaps the one most illuminated or infected, depending upon your point of view, with philosophy and metaphysics. To some, Hegel has elevated tragedy to its proper ideal status. To others, he has desiccated it by means of abstraction and obscurity. To many, Hegel relied too heavily on Antigone as the foundation of his idea of tragedy. Although I cannot present here sufficient argument and evidence for either position, for my purposes it is sufficient to note that for Hegel tragedy in some essential sense emanates from the family. As far as I know, there is no disputing this. And, as I shall argue, in spite of Hegels shortcomings, the centrality of the family to tragedy is of great importance. If Hegel is an idealist and optimist with respect to tragedy and life itself, surely Schopenhauer is the very opposite. Schopenhauers pessimism is well known in the history of philosophy. It is also relatively well known that Schopenhauer places music at the very peak of the hierarchy of artistic expression. He says that music stands apart from all the other arts. It is entirely a universal language, and it speaks immediately to the innermost being of the world and of our self.9 Directly below music in the hierarchy of the arts is tragedy. It is the highest expression of the poetic arts, as Schopenhauer says, with respect to both effect and the difficulty of achievement.10 However, most important to understanding tragedy is the fact it is the description of the terrible side of life. The unspeakable pain, the wretchedness and misery of mankind, the triumph of wickedness, the scornful mastery of chance, and the irretrievable fall of the just and the innocent are all here presented to us; and here is to be found a significant hint as to the nature of the world and of existence.11 Like Hegel, Schopenhauers discussion of tragedy is steeped in metaphysics and in a morality of cosmic proportions. Schopenhauer says that the tragic hero doesnt merely atone for his own sinshe atones for original sin, for the guilt of existence itself.12 Furthermore, Schopenhauer emphasizes, great misfortune is alone essential to tragedy.13 And that tragedy reveals that the greatest misfortune (is not) an exception, not . . . something brought about by rare circumstances or by monstrous characters, but (is) something that arises easily and spontaneously out of the actions and characters of men, as something almost essential to them, and in this way it is brought terribly near to us.14 Finally, for Nietzsche, tragedy is the marriage of Apollo and Dionysos, the marriage of the visual, plastic arts and the nonvisual art of music. Apollo represents the dream side of the marriage, the side of fair illusion. Through Apollo we enjoy an immediate apprehension of form, all shapes speak to us directly, nothing seems indifferent or redundant.15 Apollo is also the lucent one, the soothsayer. He makes life possible and worth living: Apollo may be regarded as the marvelous divine image of the principium individuationis whose looks and gestures radiate the full delight,

74

Perricone

wisdom, and beauty of illusion.16 Dionysos represents the intoxicating side of the marriage. Dionysos shatters the principium individuationis. With the self destroyed, we can now apprehend the Dionysaic rapture: Dionysaic stirrings arise either through the influence of those narcotic potions of which all primitive races speak in their hymns, or through the powerful approach of spring, which penetrates with joy the whole frame of nature.17 Through song and dance Dionysos has the power to unite man to man and man to nature. As Nietzsche says, tragedyor more specifically, Attic tragedyexhibits the salient features of both parents. The parents struggle with respect to each of their creative energies, and the result is a translation of instinctive Dionysaic wisdom into images. The hero, the highest manifestation of the will, is destroyed, and we assent, since he too is merely a phenomenon, and the eternal life of the will remains unaffected. Tragedy cries, We believe that life is eternal! and music is the direct expression of that life.18 Transition to a Darwinian View of Tragedy I have presented these summaries of the superstars writing on tragedy in order to drive home the sense that tragedy plays a crucial role in the history of the arts. Indeed, if it did not, it would not capture and engage the attention of many great mindsand many lesser mindsover so long a period of time; it wouldnt have so much shelf space in our libraries or so many bytes on our discs and hard drives. Furthermore, I have presented these summaries on tragedy in order to offer a sample of the many angles from which tragedy has been attacked. Plato brings both a metaphysical and moral flavor to the subject. Aristotle brings an aesthetic and psychological feel. Hume, too, emphasizes the psychological aspects of tragedy. Hegel is clearly metaphysical in his approach, as is Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, yet each with his own exalted or despairing tone. Especially among these latter thinkers, one senses that the very style of the discussion on tragedy informs and gives substance to the subject matter itself. But all that having been said, I still come away from these and other discussions of tragedy with a sense of something having been left out. No doubt one gets much insight into tragedy from the superstars and others and, I should add, much truth. At the same time, I get the sense that we havent reached bottom regarding this issue. There is a lingering sense of mystery that makes me uneasy. However, I cannot accept what Francis Ferguson accepts. Ferguson, the well-regarded theater scholar, writes in the introduction to one of the editions of the Poetics, The appeal of tragedy is in the last analysis inexplicable, rooted as it is in our mysterious human nature.19

Tragedy: A Lesson in Survival

75

There is still much to learn about human nature. But if one says that human nature is mysteriousand mysterious means inexplicable, in principle, or something mystical and otherworldlythen I find myself exclaiming: Hold on! My instincts tell me that Ferguson and others like him are defeatists. To say that the appeal of tragedy is rooted in our mysterious human nature is to say that ultimately there is no explaining the appeal of tragedy. Ferguson and others like him fundamentally close down all discussion. Theres nothing left to argue after someone says, Its a mystery. I prefer the jury is still out attitude. I prefer that attitude because historically it encourages argument and it produces results. In what follows, Im going to try to explain what is ultimately appealing and haunting about tragedy. Others have offered rich and interesting ideas on tragedy, but, as I said, none has hit, as far as I can tell, rock bottom. As I shall argue, the metaphysical, psychological, moral, and aesthetic details of the discussions of tragedy rest on an unacknowledged foundation. So, in other words, just in case Aristotle, Hume, Hegel, Schopenhauer, or Nietzsche (or anyone else) is correct about what tragedy is, he is correct to the extent that his claims, in principle, complement what I shall present. In order to keep matters manageable, Im going to discuss tragedy in what I have called tragedy in the strict sensethat is, ancient Greek tragedy, or what Nietzsche calls Attic tragedy. This doesnt mean that my discussion has no bearing on the looser sense of tragedy. What it does mean is that those bearings will be somewhat ragged but, I hope, also somewhat illuminating. I pointed out earlier that Hegel hit upon a crucial characteristic of tragedy when he said that it is essentially a family affair. Actually, the idea goes back to Aristotle. Aristotle says: The tragic pleasure is that of pity and fear . . . it is clear, therefore, that the causes should be included in the incidents of the story. Let us see, then, what kinds of incidents strike us as horrible, or rather as piteous. In a deed of this description the parties must necessarily be either friends, or enemies, or indifferent to one another. Now when enemy does it on enemy, there is nothing to move us to pity either in his doing or in his meditating the deed, except so far as the actual pain of the sufferer is concerned; and the same is true when the parties are indifferent to one another. Whenever the tragic deed, however, is done within the familythe murder or the like is done or meditated by brother on brother, by son on father, by mother on son, or son on motherthese are the situations the poet should seek after.20 Elizabeth Bellefiore, an Aristotle scholar, points out that Aristotle uses the term philia in the popular and traditional sense, in which blood kinship is of central importance.21 She goes on to point out that Gerald Else, one of the most respected scholars of the Poetics, argues convincingly that philia in the Poetics is not love or friendship but the objective state of being philoi, dear

76

Perricone

ones by virtue of blood ties.22 It is essential to Aristotles idea of tragedy, according to Bellefiore and Else, that it be a family affair. Violence toward nonfamily members is not tragic; it is pathetic.23 Bellefiore says: The plot, or imitation of action, arouses pity and fear largely because the actions imitated concern philoi.24 So, what we have on this analysis is that tragic pleasure of pity and fear is produced by imitations of actions within families where violent events, such as murder, incest, etc., occur. As a result of such tragic events, the spectator achieves a catharsis. Bellefiore says catharsis is the final cause of tragedy.25 Simply put, imitation of violent events within families causes tragic pleasure, which thereby causes catharsis. Aristotles analysis of tragedy is fundamentally aesthetic and psychological. He discusses and analyzes at length the concepts of imitation, plot, and character, as well as the nuances of pleasure and catharsis. However, Aristotle never gives a fully satisfying explanation as to why tragedy is a family affair. As a result, the idea of tragedy is incomplete. I should mention that it is not controversial that tragedy in the strict sense, on empirical grounds, is a family affair. It is easy to confirm this fact. Just take an inventory of the Greek tragedies from Aeschyluss Agamemnon to Euripidess Bacchae. As for tragedies in the loose sense, I would suggest that for the most part they, too, are family affairs. So, what is peculiar about violence within families that makes for tragedy? To answer this question is to answer the question why tragedies are so appealing and so haunting, why we find them so interesting, so powerfully fascinating, that we return to them again and again. To answer this question is to complete the idea of tragedy. Aristotle could not answer the question of why tragedy is a family affair because he lived over 2,300 years before the age of Darwin. Aristotle intuitively knew the significance of the family. However, he did not have the scientific fund of knowledge to spell out the familys significance in any specifically cogent fashion. This is why Aristotles discussion of tragic pleasure and catharsis stops at what today would be considered pop psychology. Likewise, this is why someone like Nietzsche, given his poetic gifts, offers up myth as explanation. The scientific model we have today, which is central to understanding tragedy, is the one created and developed by William D. Hamilton, one of the outstanding biologists of the twentieth century. Of course, Hamilton was not at all thinking of tragedy. As it turns out, however, his model fits rather well. A summary of his idea will suffice for my purposes. Hamilton was puzzled by the existence of altruism among organisms in the natural world. Altruism occurs when two organisms interact in such a way that one, a recipient, receives a benefit, and the other, a donor, gives up a benefit. Benefit here means a gain in reproductive fitnessthat is, the expected number of offspring. Instances of such altruism abound. Typical examples of altruism in nature are alarm calls in squirrels, prairie dogs, or vervet monkeys, which

Tragedy: A Lesson in Survival

77

warn of the presence of predators while at the same time drawing attention to themselves and thereby placing themselves at greater risk; in the case of honey bees there are sterile workers who devote their lives to caring for the queen and then leave no offspring of their own. The question, then, is, How, in a Darwinian world where the fittest survive, do some individuals forego their own reproductive interests in favor of othershow did alarm-calling behavior, etc. evolve in the first place? The old and no longer accepted explanation was that altruistic individuals could somehow evolve to sacrifice themselves for the good of the species. Briefly, the problem with the good of the species position is what Richard Dawkins called treachery from within.26 Dawkins argues that even if altruism is advantageous at the group level, altruistic groups are liable to be invaded and exploited by egoiststhat is, free riders. Free riders have the fitness advantage of benefiting from the good-hearted altruists and not paying the costs. All it takes is a single mutant and the altruistic utopia is destroyed. Hamilton more convincingly argues that altruism in squirrels, prairie dogs, monkeys, honeybees, or human beings can be explained by the fact that the recipient of the altruistic behavior is a relative of the donor. Furthermore, the higher the coefficient of relatednessthat is, the greater the percentage of shared genetic material with the recipientthe greater the chances that donors will act altruistically. For example, the coefficient of relatedness between parents and offspring is 50 percent, since offspring carry one half the genetic material from each parent. The coefficient of relatedness between siblings is 50 percent, between half siblings 25 percent, between identical twins 100 percent, between grandparents and grandchildren 25 percent. Hamilton proposed that the evolution of social behavior proceeds by inclusive fitness, which incorporates the potential costs and benefits of performing a given act to an individual and any of its relatives. Thus, from an inclusive fitness point of view it makes sense that an individual would sacrifice its own particular interests as long as it promoted the interests of two of it siblings or eight of its cousins, etc. Consequently, an action that may be detrimental to the donor would still be beneficial to that donors fitness if the action greatly benefits some of its relatives. Kin selection is the evolutionary mechanism that selects behaviors that increase the inclusive fitness of the donor.27 The ideas of inclusive fitness and kin selection help us to understand further the acts of food sharing and grooming, the problem and detection of free riders, the social cohesion of ingroups, the distinction between in-groups and out-groups, perhaps even the transmission of wealth as a result of marriage or as a result of death. In short, Hamiltons once revolutionary and now well-confirmed ideas predict that genes direct individuals to help other individuals who are related and thus share genes in common. There exists a biological basis of altruism not only in nonhuman beings but also, most importantly for my purposes, in human

78

Perricone

beings. I should add the following points: (1) kin selection and inclusive fitness do not imply genetic determinismthey imply very strong natural dispositions, which are very likely to be acted upon; and (2) kin selection and inclusive fitness do not imply that donors or recipients be self-conscious or have intentions. Obviously, sterile worker bees have no idea what they are doing or why they are doing it. When intention is present, however, as in the case of some human actions, that fact does not at all militate against the power of kin selection and inclusive fitness; on the contrary, it would seem, the power of kin selection and inclusive fitness must now be ingredients added to the mix of understanding why people do what they do. One more thing: Now, of course, among human beings it is possible to find cases of altruistic acts that do not promote the inclusive fitness of the donor, and it is possible to find cases of selfish acts that have the unintended consequences of boosting the inclusive fitness of the recipient. However, (1) the occurrences of such cases are anomalies, and (2) they have virtually no relevance to what I want to say about the appeal of tragedy. The acts relevant to tragedy are those acts that you intend to do knowing in some sense that you are decreasing your inclusive fitness. Given that the claim is within families cooperation should happen, not homicide or incest, let me mention a few salient facts about homicide and incest: First, people sometimes murder their relatives. However, in a groundbreaking work entitled Homicide, Margo Wilson and Martin Daly argued that across cultures not only are men much more likely than women to commit homicide28 but also that the risk of being killed by a nonrelative is at least eleven times greater than being killed by a relativethat is, a blood relation.29 Consistent with such figures, Daly and Wilson also show that adopted children are at a higher risk of infanticide than children who are genetically related to their parents. So, chances are, if you are going to get killed, a non-blood-related male is going to do it. These are the kinds of numbers one would expect when considering inclusive fitness. Thus, among the many causes for people either killing or not killing other people, there are also underlying biological/psychological causal mechanisms that can be understood in selectionist terms. These causal mechanisms, as Steven Pinker says, indicate that relatives are natural allies, and before the invention of agriculture and cities, societies were organized around clans of them30such is the cement that kept these ancient societies together. As Daly and Wilson say, The fundamental commonality of interest among genetic relatives makes their killing one another seem especially anomalous . . . homicide is not such a family affair as is widely believed: Murders of relatives is actually rather rare in comparison to murders of non-relatives. The difference is not simply one of absolute frequencies, but of risk in relation to opportunity.31

Tragedy: A Lesson in Survival

79

Second, sometimes people have sex with their blood relations. As it turns out, however, such occurrences are also pretty rare. Also, contrary to Freuds opinions, the rarity of the occurrences of incest is not fundamentally the result of taboosthat is, environment alone.32 Although not all the details are known, the informed opinion today suggests that there are strong genetic components at work against incestuous behavior; in other words, the very opinion Freud thought was dead wrong (Edward A. Westermarcks) looks like the opinion that is pretty much right. This, too, is consistent with inclusive fitness. E. O. Wilson says that Almost all species vulnerable to moderate or severe inbreeding depression use some biologically programmed method to avoid incest.33 Or as Pinker says, given the lethal consequences to inbreeding, it stands to reason that humans (and many other animals) have evolved an emotion that makes the thought of sex with a family member a turnoff.34 Again, Wilson states that there is much clinical and anecdotal evidence to suggest that the Westermarck effect is true: the human brain is programmed to follow a simple rule of thumb: Have no sexual interest in those whom you knew intimately during the earliest years of your life.35 Finally, Robin Fox, an expert in incest, kinship, and marriage says: We have several inbuilt mechanisms that lead us to avoid incest (mother-son and brother-sister) and a readiness of males to inhibit incestuous impulses where they occur toward women controlled by other males or toward women they themselves control (father-daughter). Breakdowns are more likely between brother-sister and fatherdaughter, but throughout the population as a whole, they are likely to be relatively few.36 So, basically here is the picture I have drawn based on current scientific knowledge: (1) we are strongly disposed to act in ways that enhance our inclusive fitness; (2) people for the most part kill nonrelatives; and (3) incest is rare because there are biological mechanisms working against it. This knowledge, of course, is inspired by the work of Darwin and his followers. Darwinism cannot tell the whole story, replete with details, of human behavior; however, it is a powerful and necessary complement to a complete understanding of ourselves. Daly and Wilson illustrate clearly the role that selectionist thinking plays in human psychology, and, I believe, the role it plays in understanding tragedy and perhaps art in general: Evolutionary psychology is not a theory of motivation. No one imagines that genetic posterity (fitness) is a superordinate goal in any direct sense. Fitness plays a quite different role in evolutionary theory from the role that self-esteem or a target level of blood glucose plays in a psychological theory. Fitness consequences are invoked not as goals in themselves, but rather to explain why certain goals have come to control behavior at all, and why they are calibrated in one particular way rather than another.37

80

Perricone

Theories of motivation address proximate causes to human behavior. The proximate cause of my doing x is the pleasure I expect to receive from doing x. To complement the proximate cause, the evolutionary psychologist seeks the ultimate cause of my doing x. Thus, the ultimate cause of doing x is that it will enhance my reproductive success. Behind the proximate causes of our actions, there are causes of adaptive significance. In some sense, this should be no surprise since each of us is a success story in the history of lifethat is, offspring of those ancestors who pass down the genes that code for the emotions of successful reproducers. Again, Daly and Wilson argue that the concept of natural selection explains behavior at a distinct level complementary to the explanations afforded by motivational theories. A psychologist might be satisfied to explain the behavior of two men fighting a duel in terms of self-esteem or status or face. An evolutionary psychologist will also want to clarify why the human psyche should be such as to value intangible social resources enough to risk death over them.38 Conclusion I am sure I have hinted at and suggested already how this is all related to tragedy, but lets get more specific. Think of what happens in the world of tragedy. In that world, we dont have families that merely squabble, or family members who break each others hearts. Squabbling and heart breaking is predicted by evolutionary theory. In tragic families, mothers routinely kill their children. Fathers routinely kill their children. Sons routinely kill their fathers. Brothers and sisters routinely kill each other. And, oh yes, sometimes incest occurs. In other words, what happens in the world of tragedy is precisely the opposite of what Hamiltons rule predictshelp those who are related to you, the closer the better, because they will increase your reproductive success; it is precisely the opposite of what Daly and Wilsons statistics predict about who kills whom; it is precisely the opposite of what the Westermarck effect predicts. Tragedy, insofar as it is implicitly a family affair, should not happen. Family members should cooperate; they shouldnt kill or have sex with each other. According to Hamilton and others, there is no richer soil for cooperation in the natural world than within the family unit. A variation on Hamiltons rule applied to human beings would be, If I cant trust members of my own family, whom can I trust? Of course, once outside the family the chances of cooperation begin to drop precipitously; outside the family, there is likelihood of tit for tat among reciprocating partners; beyond that, cooperation is pretty much hit and miss and life more brutish, nastier . . . and so on. Now, obviously such anomaliesof violence within familiescan and do occur in the natural world of nonhumans and humans; genes direct us

Tragedy: A Lesson in Survival

81

to behave altruistically, but, as I already suggested, they are apparently not omnipotent. However, since such occurrences are statistically odd, they seem to be abominations. Among human beings such violence within families is especially troubling; you cant always write them off as accidents since often intent is a factor, and, therefore, things could have been otherwise. When a mother chooses to kill a son, a most unlikely homicide, because she hates him (proximate cause), and at the same time she clearly diminishes her reproductive success (ultimate cause) . . . well, then, such occurrences are utterly appalling. One might even say that such acts are self-contradictory in the sense that at the proximate level it may seem in the mothers interests to kill her son, while at the ultimate level it is not in her interest at all. In such cases, one, like Schopenhauer, might want to condemn existence itself. To the Greeks, such killings might appear as offensive to the godsto us, unnatural. In the sense that tragic events are so contrary to our natural dispositions, they touch upon truths, which are both profound and universal, about the human condition; commentators on tragedy typically realize this. However, they also never seem to get beyond the proximate cause of tragic pleasure. Traditionally, commentators examined the immediate psychological and cultural conditions that contribute significantly to the idea of tragedy; traditionally commentators have provided the texture and nuances, all the aesthetic, historical, and metaphysical details, the value and the richness of which should never be underestimated. For Aristotle, the cause of tragic pleasure is catharsis, the pleasure of the release of emotionas if going to the theater were going to some physician or another . . . of the soul. For Hume, the cause of tragic pleasure is putting tragic events at a safe psychical distance, as it were making them sublime, the power of the artistic over the natural passion. For Hegel, the cause of tragic pleasure is the idealization of man. For Schopenhauer, the cause of tragic pleasure is the power of disillusionment. For Nietzsche, the cause of tragic pleasure is implicitly sexualthat is, the marriage, the sexual union of two male gods, the impossible offspring who is indistinguishably dream-like and intoxicating. As I have suggested, I think there is truth in every one of these positions. However, what traditional commentators have not realized is that the texture of tragedy is woven on a living loom. Less poetically, they have not realized what today is a truism: Without an environment, genes would have nothing to do; without genes, the environment could have no influence.39 Correlatively, they have not realized that the power of tragedy reaches back to our Pleistocene selves, that it speaks metaphorically not only to our phenotypic cultural selves but also to our selfish genes. So, just as one can say, Yes, I understand that those men are dueling for the sake of status. But why? So one can say, Yes, I understand that catharsis causes tragic pleasure, or that psychical distance causes tragic pleasure, etc. But why? Of course,

82

Perricone

the answer to the why questionthe ultimate cause of tragedyis that tragedy hits a Darwinian nerve. That nerve is the power of the family and the place of the family in the human condition, as it is now understood in Darwinian terms; that nerve is the power of the human family and its continuity with the power of other life forms and the family in the nonhuman realm.40 Think of tragedy as the Darwinian cautionary tale, par excellence. Thus, the ultimate cause of tragic pleasure is the fear that against the odds, there is still the chance that I, too, might perform acts that will hinder my inclusive fitness, that I will kill or have sex with kin, that I will break my ancestral line of successful reproducers. It is this power of the family and the awful possibility of destroying it that ultimately completes the picture of tragedy; it is what makes tragedy so irresistibly fascinating. Tragedy confirms why the family is so precious. It brings into relief not only that the family is the matrix out of which comes reproductive success but also how it is the matrix of competition and cooperation. Extended further it is the matrix of social cohesion, morality . . . and further the trappings of civilization itself. From the family, I gain a sense of self and self-worth. The family is where I learn about love and hate. The family feeds me, clothes me, and gives me shelter. From the family I come to know who I am, what is my place in the world, and what is my relationship to others. From the family, I come to learn that every decision I make is not merely my own but also colored by what my ancestors and others have done, what they are doing, and what they might do. These things are true for all times and all places. To recall Hegel: A content of this type retains its force through all times, and its presentation, despite all difference of nationality, vitally arrests our human and artistic sympathies. Given the crucial significance of the family, it is no surprise that threats to it are normally met with extreme concern. Tragedy brings forth and immerses us in those concerns coupled with the power of diction at its finest, deftly forged plot, and rich characterall for us to contemplate. It teaches us, as Schopenhauer suggested, that tragic falls are not reserved for kings and queens alone; the terrible side of life is near to all of us. Ultimately, tragedy teaches us that although we are part of the process of the long history of natural selection, that process is fragile, adventitious, and open to attack by the intentional misdeeds of men.

NOTES 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. Richard McKeon, ed., Poetics, in The Basic Works of Aristotle (New York: Random House, 1968), 1449b, 24-29. F. L. Lucas, Tragedy (New York: Collier Books, 1965), 69. David Hume, Selected Essays (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993), 126. Ibid., 128. Ibid., 131.

Tragedy: A Lesson in Survival

6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26.

83

27.

28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40.

Walter Kaufman, Tragedy and Philosophy (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1969), 240. Anne and Henry Paolucci, eds., Hegel: On Tragedy (New York: Harper and Row, 1975), 68; emphasis added. Ibid., 69. Arthur Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Representation, vol. 1 (New York: Dover, 1969), 256. Ibid., 252. Ibid., 253. Ibid., 254. Ibid. Ibid. Friedrich Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1956), 21. Ibid., 22. Ibid. Ibid., 102. Francis Ferguson, ed., Aristotles Poetics (New York: Hill and Wang, 1961), 32. McKeon, The Basic Works of Aristotle, 1453b, 12-23. Elizabeth Bellefiore, Tragic Pleasure (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1992), 72. Ibid. Ibid., 73. Ibid. Ibid., 258. Richard Dawkins, The Selfish Gene (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), 72. See also chaps. 5-7. The seminal argument against group selection is in G. C. Williams, Adaptation and Natural Selection (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1966). See W. D. Hamilton, The Genetical Evolution of Social Behavior, Journal of Theoretical Biology 7 (1964): 1-52. Kin selection and inclusive fitness are discussed extensively and in many sources. One of my favorite sources is John Cartwright, Evolution and Human Behavior (Cambridge: Bradford Books, 2000). Martin Daly and Margo Wilson, Homicide (New York: Aldine De Gruyter, 1988), chaps. 1, 7, 8, 9; Steven Pinker, How the Mind Works (New York: W. W. Norton, 1997), 497. Daly and Wilson, Homicide, 19ff. Pinker, How the Mind Works, 436. Daly and Wilson, Homicide, 293. See Matt Ridley, The Red Queen (New York: Macmillan, 1993), 282ff; for further critique of Freud, see Daly and Wilson, Homicide, 107ff. E. O. Wilson, Consilience (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1998), 174. Pinker, How the Mind Works, 456. Wilson, Consilience, 176; see also Amotz and Avishag Zahavi, The Handicap Principle (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997); and Pinker, How the Mind Works, 455ff. Robin Fox, The Red Lamp of Incest (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1980), 216. Daly and Wilson, Homicide, 7. Ibid. Cartwright, Evolution and Human Behavior, 57. See Frans de Waal, Good Natured (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1996). De Waal is particularly sensitive to the continuities between human beings and other primates. Advancing the tradition of David Hume, de Waal argues that human morality is the result of human sentiments, which evolved from inchoate and nonreflective primate sentiments.