An exploration of tragedy and its fundamental position in Western culture
In this compelling account, eminent literary critic Terry Eagleton explores the nuances of tragedy in Western culture—from literature and politics to philosophy and theater. Eagleton covers a vast array of thinkers and practitioners, including Nietzsche, Walter Benjamin, and Slavoj Žižek, as well as key figures in theater, from Sophocles and Aeschylus to Shakespeare and Ibsen.
Eagleton examines the political nature of tragedy, looking closely at its connection with periods of historical transition. The dramatic form originated not as a meditation on the human condition, but at moments of political engagement, when civilizations struggled with the conflicts that beset them. Tragedy, Eagleton demonstrates, is fundamental to human experience and culture.
Widely regarded as England's most influential living literary critic & theorist, Dr. Terry Eagleton currently serves as Distinguished Professor of English Literature at the University of Lancaster and as Visiting Professor at the National University of Ireland, Galway. He was Thomas Warton Prof. of English Literature at the University of Oxford ('92-01) & John Edward Taylor Professor of English Literature at the University of Manchester 'til '08. He returned to the University of Notre Dame in the Autumn '09 semester as Distinguished Visitor in the English Department.
He's written over 40 books, including Literary Theory: An Introduction ('83); The Ideology of the Aesthetic ('90) & The Illusions of Postmodernism ('96). He delivered Yale's '08 Terry Lectures and gave a Gifford Lecture in 3/10, titled The God Debate.
Reading this immediately after Steiner's Death of Tragedy did not do Eagleton any favours. The prose is less engaging and the argument weaker. I wasn't especially impressed with Eagleton's analysis and felt that the text merely recapitulated centuries of thinking that would have been much more interesting to me if I had read it at the beginning of my study of tragic theory rather than the end. However, the book was interesting and readable and would probably suit a beginning scholar well; I was just disappointed that Eagleton himself didn't have as much to say as I was anticipating.
Akademik hayatımda bolca rastladığım ve kendisinden alıntılar yaptığım Eagleton'ı, bu sene üzerimde hiçbir baskı olmadan okumak oldukça keyifliydi. Eagleton'ın yazı dili oldukça akıcı, okuyucuyu zorlamıyor. Hocamız, trajedinin kuramlarından ve trajediye karşı yapılan aforizmalardan güzelce bahsediyor. Öyle kapsamlı bir çalışma ki; kaynakçasından oldukça güzel bir okuma listesi çıkartılabilir.
Beni rahatsız etmeyen fakat dikkatimi çeken tek negatif durum ise Eagleton'ın sürekli ana konudan sapma niyeti. Trajedi hakkında tümceler okurken bir anda konunun felsefenin diğer alanlarına kayması doğal olarak okuyucuyu önceki sayfaları yeniden okumaya yönlendiriyor bazı zamanlarda.
I was not expecting this philosophical display. It's still a biographical revision of the concept of tragedy and it's conection with human existence but it's very extent in its examples and its takes. Very good, I would even say that it does require attention, it's like a deep lecture than
Fundamentally a great premise - tragedy as a literary genre examined for its relationship to political circumstances and changing world views such as the modernist emergence of individualism. Is the tragic error a sin against ultimate truth or an attempt to construct it ? Is it’s function to unleash and purge the negative part of us under the cloak of fiction or to soothe our lack of self fulfilment ?
These are only short books , and though this one is always interesting it’s discussion of philosophical theories of tragedy means that some texts are denied exposition. There’s lots of Oedipus but only passing mention of the Oresteia’s relationship with Athenian democracy. We get a tantalising mention of Hamlet as a renaissance prince in a medieval court that begs , but doesn’t get, development. In the end it’s pointing us to the authors longer work on the subject, sweet violence, that I might tackle at some point.
Eagleton has certainly become more philosophically rigorous and intimidatingly complex since the days of Literary Theory. Impressive but much more fun watching or reading an actual tragedy. Still, I learned a lot about Ibsen and have a new curiosity for his plays.
This boo, which moves quickly, often seemed more like an annotated bibliography or literature review than a sustained argument about the nature of tragedy. But I liked his brief summary of the 100 or so authors one should eventually read on the subject (theorists as well as key practitioners) if one really wants to dig in. These include, but are certainly not limited to, Plato, Aristotle, Kant, Hegel, Marx, Schelling, Schiller, Kierkegaard, Ibsen, Synge, Shakespeare, Aeschylus, Sophocles, Raymond Williams, George Steiner, Schopenhauer, Benjamin, Brecht, Freud, Barthes, Zizek, Lacan, Miller, etc. and so on. Warning: contains none of Eagleton’s trademark humor for some reason.
3.5 stars, the book was interesting, but the author wrote from a very classic Western Philosophy perspective and I would have preferred a more literary approach. Also, there were a lot of comparisons between different philosophers and to me it was not always clear whether or not the author actually supported the ideas presented.
Generally interesting and engaging but I would have preferred more discussion of tragic texts over tragic philosophical theories which, Eagleton admits, often only fit in with a small number of works.
I think I have somewhat mixed feelings about this book. Clearly, Eagleton knows his stuff and provides a variety of different perspectives on tragedy through the lens of different times, theoretical positions and individual authors. So I would recommend it for anyone with experience studying a tragedy (Antigone and Oedipus feature fairly prominently) to get an idea of some of the wider ways in which theories of tragedy have been applied to specific texts.
However, my main issue with Eagleton’s overview is that at times it feels very much like a survey without a clear structure to differentiate between his and others’ opinion. I realise that imposing a rigid chapter hierarchy on an academic text of this kind may seem to diminish it, but since it felt as if the text generally separated into waves or trends anyway it felt like a potential missed opportunity for greater clarity.
At times it seemed that Eagleton’s understandable dislike of the “bourgeoise” approach to tragedy could have been refined a bit further, so as to avoid the risk of labelling all theories of tragedy as ultimately rather facile and even politically amoral. Indeed, while the ending of the the text poses the interesting question of whether the daily uses of the term tragedy may themselves be more philosophically valid than theoretical ones, this seems like a somewhat bathetic end to a text called “tragedy”.
I think my main criticism would simply be that in this text Eagleton misses the personal touch that I enjoyed so thoroughly in How To Read A Poem, which seems to put forward more of an opinion.
I was first introduced to Eagleton’s works on literature when involved in a Masters-level course on literary theory that happened so long ago that I can barely remember it. As a middle-aged man, I’ve discovered increased possibilities for understanding such ideas and placing them in context against the much wider world of literary reading I now occupy. So, discovering Eagleton on the library shelf again opened a pathway to his worldview once more.
One of the important key points was his definition of the tragic protagonist, “a human being at the end of one’s tether.” If this holds true, are we not potentially surrounded by tragic individuals, holding onto the habits and patterns they’ve drafted to remain a functioning member of society? The language they use to express themselves a “liberation” from the tragedy, for in “mixing his sorrow” through transcendence of his “guilt, transgression, [and] suffering,” he is “making something out of the utterly devastating.” Perhaps, as we barely hang on, by leaning into the tragic elements of our lives, giving them voice – either internally or externally – we may find release? This is not definitively what Eagleton advocates, but I prefer to view the manifestations of the tragic as an opportunity to discover a form of optimism.
4 stars. The book is full of examples that elucidate the important of tragedy within narrative form, religious writings, Shakespeare’s plays, and even the ways we cope with grief. Overall, it’s a compelling conceit, one which Eagleton explores with attention its broad scope or possible expression.