The man who mingles the useful with the sweet carries the day by charming his reader and at the same time instructing him. That’s the book to enrich the publisher, to be posted over seas, and to prolong its author’s fame.
[Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci,
lectorem delectando pariterque monendo.
Hic meret aera liber Sosiis, hic et mare transit
et longum noto scriptori prorogat aevum.]Horace (65–8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]
Epistles [Epistularum, Letters], Book 2, ep. 3 “Art of Poetry [Ars Poetica; To the Pisos],” l. 343ff (2.3.343-346) (19 BC) [tr. Blakeney; ed. Kramer, Jr. (1936)]
(Source)
Horace advises on how to write a best-seller, by blending both entertainment and (moral) substance. The Sosii were famed booksellers in Rome.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:He beares the bell in all respects who good with sweete doth minge:
Who can in delectable style good counsaile with him bring.
His bookes the stationers will bye, beyonte Sea it will goe,
And will conserve the authors name a thowsand yeare, and mo.
[tr. Drant (1567)]But he hath every suffrage can apply
Sweet mix'd with soure, to his reader, so
As doctrine and delight together goe.
This book will get thee Socij money; this
Will passe the Seas; and long as Nature is
With honour make the far-known Author live.
[tr. Jonson (1640), l. 490ff]But he that joyns instructions with delight,
Profit with pleasure, carries all the Votes;
These are the Volumes that enrich the Shops,
These pass with admiration through the World,
And bring their Author an Eternal fame.
[tr. Roscommon (1680)]Profit and pleasure, then, to mix with art,
To inform the judgment, nor to bend the heart,
Shall gain all votes; to booksellers shall raise
No trivial fortune, and across the seas
To distant nations spread the writer's fame,
And with immortal honours crown his name.
[tr. Francis (1747)]But he who precept with amusement blends,
And charms the fancy while the heart he mends,
Wins every suffrage. Rarely shall he miss
To enrich the Sosii with a piece like this:
Seas shall it traverse, and the writer's page
Hand down his glories to a distant age.
[tr. Howes (1845)]He who joins the instructive with the agreeable, carries off every vote, by delighting and at the same time admonishing the reader. This book gains money for the Sosii; this crosses the sea, and continues to its renowned author a lasting duration.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]But he who, mixing grave and gay, can teach
And yet give pleasure, gains a vote from each:
His works enrich the vendor, cross the sea,
And hand the author down to late posterity.
[tr. Conington (1874)]He wins all suffrages who, while he charms.
Instructs the soul, the heart to virtue warms,
And so what ministers to use unites
With what is beautiful in all he writes.
These are the works on which the Sosii thrive,
That cross the seas, to times remote survive.
[tr. Martin (1881)]He meets with acceptance everywhere who blends the practical with the pleasant, by equally delighting and instructing the reader. Such a book enriches the Sosii, travels across the sea, and confers immortality on its famous author.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]He has won every vote who has blended profit and pleasure, at once delighting and instructing the reader. That is the book to make money for the Sosii; this the one to cross the sea and extend to a distant day its author's fame.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]He wins every vote who combines the sweet and the useful,
Charming the reader and warning him equally well.
This book will bring in money for Sosius and Son,
Booksellers, travel across the sea, and extend
Its author's fame a long distance into the future.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]The poet winning every vote blends the useful with the sweet,
giving pleasure to his reader while he offers him advice.
His book will make the Sosii money and travel overseas,
and far into the years ahead extend its author's name.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]Tame sense with a dash of sugar,
Storke your reader's cheeks while you box his ears.
Then everyone reads you, your royalties mount
Like gushing oil, foreigners run for your latest title
And read you long after you've turned to dust.
So: make your own memorial!
[tr. Raffel (1983 ed.)]He who provides to all both profit and pleasure
Wins everybody's vote; his book will bring
Money for bookstore owners and fame across
The seas and down the years to the author himself.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]Everyone votes for the man who mixes wholesome and sweet,
giving his reader an equal blend of help and delight.
That book earns the Sosii money; it crosses the ocean,
winning fame for the author and ensuring long survival.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]Who can blend usefulness and sweetness wins every
Vote, at once delighting and teaching the reader.
That’s the book that earns the Sosii money, crosses
The seas, and wins its author fame throughout the ages.
[tr. Kline (2015)]He wins every hand who mingles profit with pleasure, by delighting and instructing the reader at the same time.
[ed. Bartlett's]
Quotations about:
drama
Note not all quotations have been tagged, so Search may find additional quotes on this topic.
Smiles are contagious; so are tears; to see
Another sobbing, brings a sob from me.
No, no, good Peleus; set the example, pray,
And weep yourself; then weep perhaps I may.[Ut ridentibus adrident, ita flentibus adflent
humani voltus. Si vis me flere, dolendum est
primum ipsi tibi: tum tua me infortunia laedent,
Telephe vel Peleu.]Horace (65–8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]
Epistles [Epistularum, Letters], Book 2, ep. 3 “Art of Poetry [Ars Poetica; To the Pisos],” l. 101ff (2.3.101-103) (19 BC) [tr. Conington (1874)]
(Source)
Telephus and Peleus were mythic figures in well-known Greek tragedies. The advice is offered up to those who write of or act/declaim the roles of such characters.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:The cheares of men as these will smerke on those that use to smyle:
So are theye wrinchd, when theye do weepe and chaungd within a whyle.
If thou wouldste have me weepe for the firste muste thou pensyfe be.
Thy harmes shall hitte me, when I spy that they have harmed thee.
[tr. Drant (1567)]To worke the hearers minds, still to the plight.
Mens count'nances, with such as laugh, are prone
To laughter: so they grieve with those that mone:
If thou wouldst have mee weep, bee thou first dround
Thy selfe in tears, then me thy harms will wound,
[tr. Jonson (1640); l. 145ff]We Weep and Laugh as we see others doe,
He only makes me sad who shews the way,
And first is sad himself, then (Telephus)
I feel the weight of your Calamities,
And fancy all your miseries my Own.
[tr. Roscommon (1680)]With them, who laugh, our social joy appears;
With them, who mourn, we sympathise in tears;
If you would have me weep, begin the strain,
Then I shall feel your sorrows, feel your pain.
[tr. Francis (1747)]With those that smile, our face in smiles appears;
With those that weep, our cheeks are bath'd in tears:
To make me grieve, be first your anguish shown,
And I shall feel your sorrows like my own.
[tr. Coleman (1783)]From face to face as smiles contagious creep,
so weeps the according eye with those that weep.
Who claims my tears, must first display his own;
Then shall I catch his pangs and share his moan.
[tr. Howes (1845)]As the human countenance smiles on those that smile, so does it sympathize with those that weep. If you would have me weep you must first express the passion of grief yourself; then, Telephus or Peleus, your misfortunes hurt me.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]A face all smiles makes other faces smile,
A face all tears will tears from others wile.
Unless, then, in your voice a sob I hear,
You will not wring from me a single tear.
[tr. Martin (1881)]As human countenances laugh with those who laugh so they weep with those who weep. If you desire me to weep, O Telephus or Peleus, yourself must first lead the way; then you thrill through me.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]As men's faces smile on those who smile, so they respond to those who weep. If you would have me weep, you must first feel grief yourself: then, O Telephus or Peleus, will your misfortunes hurt me.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]As the human face answers a smile with a smile, so does it wait upon tears; if you would have me weep, you must first of all feel grief yourself; then and not till then will your misfortunes, Telephus or Peleus, touch me.
[tr. Blakeney; ed. Kramer, Jr. (1936)]A man’s face is wreathed in smiles when he sees someone smile;
It twists when he sees someone cry; if you expect me
To burst into tears, you have to feel sorrow yourself.
Then your woes will fasten on me, O Telephus, Peleus.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]Just as laughter inspires laughter, tears bring tears
to human faces; if you want my tears, you first must
weep yourself. Then your agonies will hurt me too.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]We smile when we see smiling, weep at tears:
Ask me to sob
when you can sob
yourself --
Then (ah) tragic heroes are tragic
(To me).
[tr. Raffel (1983 ed.)]Men smile if the language smiles;
They weep if the language truly weeps. If you
Desire to hear me weep, you must truly grieve,
O Peleus or Telephus, and I
Grieve as if I suffered your cause of grief.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]When a person smiles, people's faces smile in return;
when he weeps, they show concern. Before you can move me to tears,
you must grieve yourself. Only then will your woes distress me.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]As the human face smiles at a smile, so it echoes
Those who weep: if you want to move me to tears
You must first grieve yourself: then Peleus or Telephus
Your troubles might pain me.
[tr. Kline (2015)]
It isn’t enough for poems to be things of beauty:
Let them stun the hearer and lead his heart where they will.[Non satis est pulchra esse poemata; dulcia sunto
Et, quocumque uolent, animum auditoris agunto.]Horace (65–8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]
Epistles [Epistularum, Letters], Book 2, ep. 3 “Art of Poetry [Ars Poetica; To the Pisos],” l. 99ff (2.3.99-100) (19 BC) [tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]
(Source)
One of the most famous lines in the Ars Poetica.
(Source (Latin)). Other translations:Not lore enough in Poesis, let them be sweetlye fynde,
And let them leade to where them liste the hearers plyante mynde.
[tr. Drant (1567)]Tis not enough the labouring Muse affords
Her Poëms beauty, but a sweet delight,
To worke the hearers minds, still to the plight.
[tr. Jonson (1640); l. 140ff]He that would have Spectators share his Grief,
Must write not only well, but movingly,
And raise Mens Passions to what height he will.
[tr. Roscommon (1680)]'Tis not enough, ye writers, that ye charm
With ease and elegance; a play should warm
With soft concernment; should possess the soul,
And, as it wills, the listening crowd controul.
[tr. Francis (1747)]'Tis not enough that Plays are polish'd, chaste,
Or trickt in all the harlotry of taste,
They must have passion too; beyond controul
Transporting where they please the hearer's soul.
[tr. Coleman (1783)]'Tis not enough that poetry combine
All fancy's charms in every sounding line:
Empassion'd let her be, and melt at will
The soul to pity or with horror thrill.
[tr. Howes (1845)]It is not enough that poems be beautiful; let them be tender and affecting, and bear away the soul of the auditor whithersoever they please.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]Mere grace is not enough: a play should thrill
The hearer's soul, and move it at its will.
[tr. Conington (1874)]Fine things won't make a drama: it must thrill
The hearers' souls, and sway them at its will.
[tr. Martin (1881)]Nor is it enough that poems possess beauty in the construction. They must please and, in whatsoever direction they will, send there the feelings of the auditors.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]Not enough is it for poems to have beauty: they must have charm, and lead the hearer's soul where they will.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]It is not enough for poems to be fine; they must charm, and draw the mind of the listener at will.
[tr. Blakeney; ed. Kramer, Jr. (1936)]It isn't enough to make lines pretty; they must move,
and affect the hearer's soul exactly as the poet wants.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]Poems (oh)
can be (oh)
so beautiful
And (oh) so dull.
Poets need charm, too, to seduce our minds.
[tr. Raffel (1983 ed.)]Sheer abstract beauty isn't enough in a poem;
Its language must so persuade the listener
And act upon his soul that he'll respond
As the poem intends.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]Correctness is not enough in a poem; it must be attractive,
leading the listener's emotions in whatever way it wishes.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]It’s not enough for poems to have beauty: they must have
Charm, leading their hearer’s heart wherever they wish.
[tr. Kline (2015)]
Wherein, then, is your grievance? You are not ejected from the city [life] by any unjust judge or tyrant, but by the selfsame Nature which brought you into it; just as when an actor is dismissed by the manager who engaged him.
“But I have played no more than three of the five acts.” Just so; in your drama of life, three acts are all the play. Its point of completeness is determined by him who formerly sanctioned your creation, and today sanctions your dissolution. Neither of those decisions lay within yourself.
Pass on your way, then, with a smiling face, under the smile of him who bids you go.[τί οὖν δεινόν, εἰ τῆς πόλεως ἀποπέμπει σε οὐ τύραννος οὐδὲ δικαστὴς ἄδικος, ἀλλ̓ ἡ φύσις ἡ εἰσαγαγοῦσα, οἷον εἰ κωμῳδὸν ἀπολύοι τῆς σκηνῆς ὁ παραλαβὼν στρατηγός;—ἀλλ̓ οὐκ εἶπον τὰ πέντε μέρη, ἀλλὰ τὰ τρία.—καλῶς εἶπας: ἐν μέντοι τῷ βίῳ τὰ τρία ὅλον τὸ δρᾶμά ἐστι. τὸ γὰρ τέλειον ἐκεῖνος ὁρίζει ὁ τότε μὲν τῆς συγκρίσεως. νῦν δὲ τῆς διαλύσεως αἴτιος: σὺ δὲ ἀναίτιος ἀμφοτέρων. ἄπιθι οὖν ἵλεως: καὶ γὰρ ὁ ἀπολύων ἵλεως.]
Marcus Aurelius (AD 121-180) Roman emperor (161-180), Stoic philosopher
Meditations [To Himself; Τὰ εἰς ἑαυτόν], Book 12, ch. 36 (12.36) (AD 161-180) [tr. Staniforth (1964)]
(Source)
Concluding words of the Meditations. See Cicero (44 BC).
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Why then should it be grievous unto thee, if (not a tyrant, nor an unjust judge, but) the same nature that brought thee in, doth now send thee out of the world? As if the praetor should fairly dismiss him from the stage, whom he had taken in to act a while.
Oh, but the play is not yet at an end, there are but three acts yet acted of it? Thou hast well said: for in matter of life, three acts is the whole play. Now to set a certain time to every man's acting, belongs unto him only, who as first he was of thy composition, so is now the cause of thy dissolution. As for thyself; thou hast to do with neither.
Go thy ways then well pleased and contented: for so is He that dismisseth thee.
[tr. Casaubon (1634), 12.27]You can't say you are sent off by a Tyrannical, and Unrighteous Sentence; No, you quit the Stage as fairly as a Player does that has his Discharge from the Master of the Revels:
But I have only gone through three Acts, and not held out to the End of the Fifth. You say well; but in Life three Acts make the Play entire. He that appoints the Entertainment is the best Judge of the length on't; and as he ordered the opening of the first Scene, so now he gives the sign for shutting up the last: You are neither accountable for one or to'ther;
Therefore retire in good Humour, for He by whom you are dismiss'd means you no harm.
[tr. Collier (1701)]What is there terrible in this, that you are sent out, not by a tyrant, or an unjust judge, but by that nature, which at first introduced you? As if the praetor who employed the player, should dismiss him again from the scene.
But, say you, I have not finished the five acts, but only three. You say true; but, in life, three acts make a complete play. For, ’tis he who appoints the end to it, who, as he was the cause of the composition, is now the cause of the dissolution. Neither of them are chargeable on you:
Depart, therefore, contented, and in good humour; for, he is propitious and kind, who dismisses you.
[tr. Hutcheson/Moor (1742)]Is it any hardship that you are sent out of the world, not by a tyrant, or an unjust judge, but by that Being which first introduced you? As the magistrate who engages an actor for the stage, dismisses him again at his pleasure.
"But I have performed only three acts of the play, and not the whole five."
Very true; but in life, even three acts may complete the whole drama. He determines the duration of the piece, who first cause it to be composed, and now orders its conclusion. You are not accountable for either.
Depart, therefore, with a good grace; for he who dismisses you is a gracious and benevolent Being.
[tr. Graves (1792)]Where is the hardship then, if no tyrant nor yet an unjust judge sends thee away from the state, but nature, who brought thee into it? the same as if a praetor who has employed an actor dismisses him from the stage.
-- "But I have not finished the five acts, but only three of them." -- Thou sayest well, but in life the three acts are the whole drama; for what shall be a complete drama is determined by him who was once the cause of its composition, and now of its dissolution: but thou art the cause of neither.
Depart then satisfied, for he also who releases thee is satisfied.
[tr. Long (1862)]Where is the hardship then if nature, that planted you here, orders your removal? You cannot say you are sent off by a tyrant or unjust judge. No; you quit the stage as fairly as a player does that has his discharge from the master of the revels.
But I have only gone through three acts, and not held out to the end of the fifth. You say well; but in life three acts make the play entire. He that ordered the opening of the first scene now gives the sign for shutting up the last; you are neither accountable for one nor the other;
Therefore retire well satisfied, for He, by whom you are dismissed, is satisfied too.
[tr. Collier/Zimmern (1887)]Why then protest? No tyrant gives you your dismissal, no unjust judge, but nature who gave you the admission. It is like the praetor discharging some player whom he has engaged.
-- "But the five acts are not complete; I have played but three." -- Good: life's drama, look you, is complete in three. The completeness is in his hands, who first authorized your composition, and now your dissolution; neither was your work.
Serenely take your leave; serene as he who gives you discharge.
[tr. Rendall (1898)]Where then is the calamity, if you are sent out of the city, by no tyrant or unjust judge, but Nature herself who at first introduced you, just as the praetor who engaged the actor again dismisses him from the stage?
“But,” say you, “I have not spoken my five acts, but only three.” True, but in life three acts make up the play. For he sets the end who was responsible for its composition at the first, and for its present dissolution. You are responsible for neither.
Depart then graciously; for he who dismisses you is gracious.
[tr. Hutcheson/Chrystal (1902)]What hardship then is there in being banished from the city, not by a tyrant or an unjust judge but by Nature who settled thee in it? So might a praetor who commissions a comic actor, dismiss him from the stage.
But I have not played my five acts, but only three. Very possibly, but in life three acts count as a full play. For he, that is responsible for thy composition originally and thy dissolution now, decides when it is complete. But thou art responsible for neither.
Depart then with a good grace, for he that dismisses thee is gracious.
[tr. Haines (Loeb) (1916)]Why is it hard, then, if Nature who brought you in, and no despot nor unjust judge, sends you out of the City -- as though the master of the show, who engaged an actor, were to dismiss him from the stage?
"But I have not spoken my five acts, only three." "What you say is true, but in life three acts are the whole play." For He determines the perfect whole, the cause yesterday of your composition, to-day of your dissolution; you are the cause of neither.
Leave the stage, therefore, and be reconciled, for He also who lets his servant depart is reconciled.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]Where is the hardship, then, if it is no tyrant or unjust judge who sends you out of the city, but nature who brought you into it? It is just as if the director of a show, after first engaging an actor, were dismissing him from the stage.
"But I haven't played all five acts, only three!" Very well; but in life three can make up a full play. For the one who determines when it is complete is he who once arranged for your composition and now arranges for your dissolution, while you for your part are responsible for neither.
So make your departure with good grace, as he who is releasing you shows a good grace.
[tr. Hard (1997 ed.; 2011 ed.)]And to be sent away from it, not by a tyrant or a dishonest judge, but by Nature, who first invited you in -- why is that so terrible?
Like the impresario ringing down the curtain on an actor:
“But I’ve only gotten through three acts ...!”
Yes. This will be a drama in three acts, the length fixed by the power that directed your creation, and now directs your dissolution. Neither was yours to determine.
So make your exit with grace -- the same grace shown to you.
[tr. Hays (2003)]So what is there to fear in your dismissal from the city? This is no tyrant or corrupt judge who dismisses you, but the very same nature that brought you in. It is like the officer who engaged a comic actor dismissing him from the stage.
"But I have not played my five acts, only three." "True, but in life three acts can be the whole play." Completion is determined by that being who caused first your composition and now your dissolution. You have no part in either causation.
Go then in peace: the god who lets you go is at peace with you.
[tr. Hammond (2006)]
He gazed keenly into the distance and looked as if he would quite like the wind to blow his hair back dramatically at that point, but the wind was busy fooling around with some leaves a little way off.
Douglas Adams (1952-2001) English author, humorist, screenwriter
Hitchhiker’s Guide No. 3, Life, the Universe, and Everything, ch. 2 (1982)
(Source)
Describing Ford Prefect.
The appreciation of many things in which we are not proficient ourselves but which we have learned to enjoy is one of the important things to cultivate in modern education. The arts in every field — music, drama, sculpture, painting — we can learn to appreciate and enjoy. We need not be artists, but we should be able to appreciate the work of artists.
Eleanor Roosevelt (1884–1962) First Lady of the US (1933–1945), politician, diplomat, activist
Column (1958-11-05), “My Day”
(Source)
Few of us write great novels; all of us live them.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913-1983) American journalist and author
The Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 7 (1963)
(Source)
The world’s a theatre, the earth a stage,
Which God and Nature do with actors fill.
Kings have their entrance in due equipage,
And some there parts play well, and others ill.The best no better are (in this theater),
Where every humor’s fitted in his kinde;
This a true subiect acts, and that a traytor,
The first applauded, and the last confin’d;This plays an honest man, and that a knave,
A gentle person this, and he a clowne,
One man is ragged, and another brave:
All men have parts, and each man acts his own.Thomas Heywood (1570s-1641) English playwright, actor, author
Apology for Actors, “The Author to his Booke” (1612)
(Source)
See Shakespeare (1599).
MYCROFT: You’ve met him. How many friends do you imagine he has? I’m the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having.
WATSON: And what’s that?
MYCROFT: An enemy.
WATSON: An enemy?
MYCROFT: In his mind, certainly. If you were to ask him, he’d probably say an arch-enemy. He does love to be dramatic.
WATSON: Well, thank God you’re above all that.
Steven Moffat (b. 1961) Scottish television writer, producer
Sherlock, 01×01 “A Study in Pink” (2010-07-25)
(Source)
(Source (Video); dialogue confirmed)
Tragedy in the theater has the great moral inconvenience of putting too much importance in life and death.
[Le Théâtre tragique a le grand inconvénient moral de mettre trop d’importance à la vie et à la mort.]
Nicolas Chamfort (1741-1794) French writer, epigrammist (b. Nicolas-Sébastien Roch)
Products of Perfected Civilization [Produits de la Civilisation Perfectionée], Part 1 “Maxims and Thoughts [Maximes et Pensées],” ch. 1, ¶ 79 (1795) [tr. Siniscalchi (1994)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:The tragic drama has the great moral drawback of attaching too high an importance to life and death.
[tr. Hutchinson (1902), "The Cynic's Breviary"]There is one great objection to the tragic Drama, it attaches too importance to life and death.
[tr. Mathers (1926)]Tragic drama has the great moral disadvantage of attaching too much importance to life and death.
[tr. Merwin (1969)]The tragic theatre suffers from the great moral disadvantage of attaching too much importance to life and death.
[tr. Pearson (1973)]Tragic drama has the great ethical flaw of attaching too much importance to life and death.
[tr. Dusinberre (1992)]Tragedies suffer from the moral defect of attaching too great an importance to life and death.
[tr. Parmée (2003), ¶66]
These two hated with a hate
Found only on the stage.
A dramatist is one who believes that the pure event, an action involving human beings, is more arresting than any comment that can be made upon it. On the stage it is always now; the personages are standing on that razor edge, between the past and the future, which is the essential character of conscious being; the words are rising to their lips in immediate spontaneity. […] The theater is supremely fitted to say: “Behold! These things are.”
A play is fiction — and fiction is fact distilled into truth.
Edward Albee (1928-2016) American playwright
In Elenore Lester, “Albee: I’m Still in Process,” New York Times (1966-09-18)
(Source)
When asked whether his plays were autobiographical.
What is the reason that we laugh so freely in a theatre but are ashamed to weep? Is it less natural to be melted by what excites pity than to burst into laughter at what is comical? […] It is not thought odd to hear a whole theatre ring with laughter at some passage of a comedy, but, on the contrary, it implies that it was funny, and very naturally performed; therefore the extreme restraint every one puts on himself not to shed tears and the affected laughter with which one tries to disguise them, clearly prove that the natural result of lofty tragedy should be to make us all weep without concealment and publicly, and without any other hindrance than wiping our eyes.
[D’où vient que l’on rit si librement au théâtre, et que l’on a honte d’y pleurer? Est-il moins dans la nature de s’attendrir sur le pitoyable que d’éclater sur le ridicule? […] Comme donc ce n’est point une chose bizarre d’entendre s’élever de tout un amphithéâtre un ris universel sur quelque endroit d’une comédie, et que cela suppose au contraire qu’il est plaisant et très naïvement exécuté, aussi l’extrême violence que chacun se fait à contraindre ses larmes, et le mauvais ris dont on veut les couvrir prouvent clairement que l’effet naturel du grand tragique serait de pleurer tous franchement et de concert à la vue l’un de l’autre, et sans autre embarras que d’essuyer ses larmes, outre qu’après être convenu de s’y abandonner.]
Jean de La Bruyère (1645-1696) French essayist, moralist
The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 1 “Of Works of the Mind [Des Ouvrages de l’Esprit],” § 50 (1.50) (1688) [tr. Van Laun (1885)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:What's the reason that we laugh so freely, and are asham'd to weep at the Theatre? Is Nature less subjects to be soften'd by pity, than to burst forth at what is Comical? [...] We must suppose 'tis the natural effect of a good Tragedy, to make us Weep freely in sight of the whole Audience, without any other trouble than drying our Eyes, and wiping our Faces. It being no more ridiculous to be seen Weeping, than to be heard to Laugh by the whole Theatre: On the contrary, we then conclude there was something acted very pleasantly, and to the life; and the restraint a man puts on him∣self to hide his tears, by an affected Grimace, plainly demonstrates that he ought not to resist the main design of a Tragedy, but give way to his Passions, and discover em as openly, and with as much confidence, as at a Comedy.
[Bullord ed. (1696)]What is the reason we laugh so freely, but are asham'd to weep at the Theatre? Is Nature less subject to be soften'd by Pity, than to burst out into Laughter at what is Comical? [...] As therefore 'tis thought no odd thing to hear the whole Amphitheatre ring with an Universal Laughter, at some passage of a Comedy; butr on the contrary, implies something was pleasantly said, and naturally perform';d; so the extreme violence which every one offers to himself in constraining his Tears, and disguising ;em with affected Grimaces, clealry prove that the Natural Effect of good Tragedy is to make us weep with all freedom, and in concert, in another's sight, and wihtout any other disturbance than wiping our Eyes.
[Curll ed. (1713)]Why is it that we laugh so freely at the theatre and yet are ashamed to weep there? Is it less natural to be moved by what is pitiful than to be amused by what is ridiculous? [...] Since then it is no unusual thing to hear a whole theatre break into unanimous laughter at some passage in a comedy, since this implies, on the contrary, that it is amusing and extremely life-like, so the extreme violence we do to our feelings by restraining our tears, and the false laughter with which we try to conceal them, clearly proves that the natural effect of great tragedy should be to make us all weep quite openly, with one accord, in one another’s presence, with no further concern than to wipe our eyes.
[tr. Stewart (1970), "Of Books"]
Drama is very important in life: You have to come on with a bang. You never want to go out with a whimper. Everything can have drama if it’s done right. Even a pancake.
Who sneers at epigrams and feigns to scout them,
Believe me, does not know a thing about them.
The real bores are the dreary epic spinners
Who rant of Tereus’ or Thyestes’ dinners,
Who rave of cunning Daedalus applying
The wings to Icarus to teach him flying,
Or else to show what dullards they esteem us
Bleat endless pastorals on Polyphemus.
My unpretentious Muse is not bombastic,
But deems these robes of Tragedy fantastic.
“Such things,” you say, “earn all men’s commendation,
As works of genius and inspiration.”
Ah, very true — those pompous classic leaders
Do get the praise — but then I get the readers![Nescit, crede mihi, quid sint epigrammata, Flacce,
Qui tantum lusus ista iocosque vocat.
Ille magis ludit, qui scribit prandia saevi
Tereos, aut cenam, crude Thyesta, tuam,
Aut puero liquidas aptantem Daedalon alas,
Pascentem Siculas aut Polyphemon ovis.
A nostris procul est omnis vesica libellis,
Musa nec insano syrmate nostra tumet.
“Illa tamen laudant omnes, mirantur, adorant.”
Confiteor: laudant illa, sed ista legunt.]Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]
Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 4, epigram 49 (4.49) (AD 89) [tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]
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"To Valerius Flaccus." (Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:Flaccus thou knowest not Epigrams,
no more then babes or boyes:
Which deemst them to be nothyng els,
but sports and triflyng toyes:
He rather toyes, and sports it out,
whiche doeth in Verse recite
Fell Tereus dinner, or whiche doeth,
Thyestes supper write:
Or he whiche telles how Dedalus,
did teache his sonne to flie:
Which telleth eke of Plyphem,
the Shepheard with one eye.
From bookes of myne, are quight exempt,
all rancour, rage and gall:
No plaier in his euishe weeds,
heare prankyng see you shall:
Yet these men doe adore (thou sayest)
laude, like and love: in deed,
I graunt you sir those they do laude,
perdie but these thei reed.
[tr. Kendall (1577)]Thou know'st not, trust me, what are Epigrams,
Flaccus, who think'st them jest and wanton games.
He wantons more, who writes what horrid meat
The plagu'd Tyestes and vex't Tereus eat,
Or Daedalus fitting is boy to fly,
Or Polyphemus' flocks in Sicily.
My booke no windy words nor turgid needes,
Nor swells my Muse with mad Cothurnall weedes.
Yet those things all men praise, admire, adore.
True; they praise those, but read these poems more.
[tr. May (1629)]Though little know'st what epigram contains,
Who think'st it all a joke in jocund strains.
He direly jokes, who bids a Tereus dine;
Or dresses suppers like, Thyestes, thine;
Feins him who fits the boy with melting wings,
Or the sweet shepherd Polyphemus sings.
Or muse disdains by fustian to excel;
by rant to rattle, or in buskin swell.
Those strains the learn'd applaud, admire, adore.
Those they applaud, I own; but these explore.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), ep. 48]You little know what Epigram contains,
Who deem it but a jest in jocund strains.
He rather jokes, who writes what horrid meat
The plagued Thyestes and vex't Tereus eat;
Or tells who robed the boy with melting wings;
Or of the shepherd Polyphemus sings.
Our muse disdains by fustian to excel,
By rant to rattle, or in buskins swell.
Though turgid themes all men admire, adore,
Be well assured they read my poems more.
[Westminster Review (Apr 1853)]He knows not, Flaccus, believe me, what Epigrams really are,
who calls them mere trifles and frivolities.
He is much more frivolous, who writes of the feast of the cruel
Tereus; or the banquet of the unnatural Thyestes;
or of Daedalus fitting melting wings to his son's body;
or of Polyphemus feeding his Sicilian flocks.
From my effusions all tumid ranting is excluded;
nor does my Muse swell with the mad garment of Tragedy.
"But everything written in such a style is praised, admired, and adored by all."
I admit it. Things in that style are praised; but mine are read.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]He does not know, believe me, what epigrams are, Flaccus,
who styles them only frivolities and quips.
He is more frivolous who writes of the meal of savage
Tereus, or of thy banquet, dyspeptic Thyestes,
or of Daedalus fitting to his son melting wings,
or of Polyphemus pasturing Sicilian sheep.
Far from poems of mine is all turgescence,
nor does my Muse swell with frenzied tragic train.
"Yet all men praise those tragedies, admire, worship them."
I grant it: those they praise, but they read the others.
[tr. Ker (1919)]What makes an epigram he knows not best
Who deems it, Flaccus, but an idle jest.
They rather jest, who Tereus' crime indict
Or the foul banquet of Thyestes write,
Or Icarus equipped with waxen wing
Or Polyphemus and his shepherding.
No fustian ornaments my page abuse
Nor struts in senseless pomp my tragic Muse.
"Men praise," you say, "and call such verse divine."
Yes, they may praise it, but they study mine.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), #188, "A Defence of Epigram"]He does not know what epigrams
Are really meant to be
Who calls them only jests and jokes
Or comic poetry --
A dimwit dilettante's delight,
Mere vers de societé
He really is the one who jests
Who writes about the stew
Served Tereus, or that loathsome meal
Of children served to you,
Thyestes, indigestion-prone,
Of sons your brother slew.
Or Daedalus fitting Icarus
With two liquescent wings,
Or who of Polyphemus tending
Sheep in Sicily sings,
And those huge, monstrous boulders which
He at Ulysses flings.
Far from my verse is any trace
Of rank turgidity.
My Muse has never donned the robes
Of pompous tragedy.
"But that's what's praised!" But what is read?
My earthy poetry!
[tr. Marcellino (1968)]To say that epigrams are only jokes and gags
is not to know what they are, my good friend Flaccus.
The poet is more entertaining who asks you to dine
at the cannibal board of Tereus, or describes,
oh indigestible Thyestes, your dinner party;
or the diverting poet turns your attention away
to the mythical sight of Daedalus, fittingly typed
as the one who tailored those tender wings for his son;
or wanders off with Polyphemus, the pastoral giant
pasturing preposterous sheep. Far be it from me
to enlarge on the standard rhetorical situation
and wax eloquent in the interests of inflation.
Our Muse makes no use of the billowing robes
that stalk the figures of Tragedy. "But those poems
are what everyone praises and adores."
I admit it, they praise them, but they read ours.
[tr. Bovie (1970)]Who deem epigrams mere trifles,
Flaccus, know not epigram.
He trifles who describes the meal
wild Tereus, rude Thyestes ate,
The Cretan Glider moulting wax,
the one-eyed shepherd herding sheep.
Foreign to my verse the tragic sock,
it's turgid, ranting rhetoric.
"Men praise -- esteem -- revere these works."
True: them they praise ... while reading me.
[tr. Whigham (1987)]Anybody who calls them just frivolities and jests, Flaccus, doesn't know what epigrams are, believe me. More frivolous is the poet who writes about the meal of savage Tereus or your dinner, dyspeptic Thyestes, or Daedalus fitting his boy with liquid wings, or Polyphemus feeding Sicilian sheep. All bombast is far from my little books, neither does my Muse swell with tragedy's fantastic robe. "And yet all the world praises such things and admires and marvels." I admit it: that they praise, but this they read.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]Quite clueless, Flaccus, all these sorry folks
Who brand short poems mere badinage and jokes.
Want to know who's more idle? The big boys,
Our Epic Poets, who rehearse the joys
Of serving human flesh up à la carte --
Tereus' bloody banquet or the huge tart
Chez Thyestes ("It's a little gristly!").
Or they serve us crap, like how remissly
Daedalus made -- with wax, imagine! -- wings
For his poor doomed son. Then Big Epic sings
Of arms and the -- not "man" -- one-eyed giant?
Polyphemus: his brain was far from pliant,
So Homer made him watch sheep in Sicily.
Pardon me for carping so pissily,
Flaccus, at insults to my epigrams,
So far from the bloated whimsy that crams
Our big-assed epics. All men blare in praise
of these "classics," you say, and bask in their rays.
I will not disagree, but mark my word:
Some day, far off, a wise man will be heard
To say, "Classics we all want to have read,
Never to read." My books get read instead!
[tr. Schmidgall (2001)]You think my epigrams are silly?
Far worse is bombast uttered shrilly --
Like Tereus baking human pie.
Or Daedal son who tried to fly.
Monster Cyclopes keeping sheep.
My verse is of such nonsense free.
It poses not as tragedy.
But praise for those things does exceed?
Those things men praise -- but mine they read.
[tr. Wills (2007)]One doesn't fathom epigrams, believe me,
Flaccus, who labels them mere jokes and play.
He's trifling who writes of savage Tereus' mean
or yours, queasy Thyestes, or the way
Daedalus fit his boy with melting wings
or Polyphemus grazed Sicilian flocks.
My little books shun bombast and my Muse
won't rave in puffed-up tragedy's long frocks.
"Yet all admire, praise, honor those," Indeed,
they praise those, I confess, but these they read.
[tr. McLean (2014)]Trust me, Flaccus, anyone who says it's just "ditties" and "jokes"
doesn't know what epigram is.
The real joker is the poet who describes the feast of cruel
Tereus, or the dinner that gave Thyestes indigestion,
or Daedalus strapping melting wings to his son,
or Polyphemus pasturing his Sicilian sheep.
No puffery gets near my little books;
my Muse doesn't swell and strut in the trailing robe of Tragedy.
"But that stuff gets the applause, the awe, the worship."
I can't deny it: that stuff does get the applause. But my stuff gets read.
[tr. Nisbet (2015)]
Good news goes unnoticed. This is a well-known property of the press in the free world. Improvements are never dramatic. Life improves slowly and goes wrong fast, and only catastrophe is clearly visible.
Edward Teller (1908-2003) Hungarian-American theoretical physicist
The Pursuit of Simplicity (1980)
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The cat is, above all things, a dramatist; its life is lived in an endless romance, though the drama is played out on quite another stage than our own, and we only enter into it as subordinate characters, as stage managers, or rather stage carpenters.
Margaret Benson (1865-1916) English author and Egyptologist
The Soul of a Cat and Other Stories, “Epilogue,” sec. 2 (1901)
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One does not go to the theater to see life and nature; one goes to see the particular way in which life and nature happen to look to a cultivated, imaginative and entertaining man who happens, in turn, to be a playwright.
George Jean Nathan (1892-1958) American editor and critic
The Critic and the Drama, ch. 2 (1922)
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Political campaigns tend to be exercises in progressive degeneration. The steady increase, week after week, in excitement and strain and weariness produces an oversimplification of issues, an over dramatization of alternatives, a growing susceptibility to extreme and catastrophic statements. Candidates find themselves shouting things in the fall that they would never dream of whispering in the summer.
Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr. (1917-2007) American historian, author, social critic
The Age of Roosevelt, ch. 33, sec. 8 (1960)
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But because we grew up surrounded by big dramatic story arcs in books and movies, we think our lives are supposed to be filled with huge ups and downs! So people pretend there is drama where there is none.
Acting is merely the art of keeping a large group of people from coughing.
Christopher Columbus discovered the West Indies, and Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone. We do not call their achievements creations because they are not personal enough. The West Indies were there all the time; and as for the telephone, we feel that Bell’s ingenious thought was somehow not fundamental. The groundwork was there, and if not Bell then someone else would have stumbled on the telephone almost as accidentally as on the West Indies.
By contrast, we feel that Othello is genuinely a creation. This is not because Othello came out of a clear sky; it did not. There were Elizabethan dramatists before William Shakespeare, and without them he could not have written as he did. Yet within their tradition Othello remains profoundly personal; and though every element in the play has been a theme of other poets, we know that the amalgam of these elements is Shakespeare’s; we feel the presence of his single mind. The Elizabethan drama would have gone on without Shakespeare, but no one else would have written Othello.
Jacob Bronowski (1908-1974) Polish-English humanist and mathematician
“The Creative Process,” Scientific American (Sep 1958)
I am weary of reading Newspapers. The Times are so full of Events, the whole Drama of the World is such a Tragedy that I am weary of the Spectacle.
John Adams (1735–1826) American lawyer, Founding Father, statesman, US President (1797–1801)
Letter (1793-02-27) to Abigail Adams
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I have observed that in comedies the best actor plays the droll, while some scrub rogue is made the fine gentleman or hero. Thus it is in the farce of life. Wise men spend their time in mirth, ’tis only fools who are serious.
Henry St John, 1st Viscount Bolingbroke (1678-1751) English politician, government official, political philosopher [Lord Bolingbroke]
(Attributed)
Quoted in Gleason's Pictorial (Boston) (3 Dec 1853).
The pleasure arising from an extraordinary agitation of the mind is frequently so great as to stifle humanity; hence arises the entertainment of the common people at executions, and of the better sort at tragedies.
Jean-Antoine Dubois (1765-1848) French Catholic missionary in India [Abbe J. A. Dubois]
(Attributed)
CALVIN: They say the world is a stage. But obviously the play is unrehearsed and everybody is ad-libbing his lines.
HOBBES: Maybe that’s why it’s hard to tell if we’re in a tragedy or a farce.
CALVIN: We need more special effects and dance numbers.
Bill Watterson (b. 1958) American cartoonist
Calvin and Hobbes (1993-12-11)
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See Shakespeare.
JAQUES:All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts ….William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet
As You Like It, Act 2, sc. 7, l. 146ff (2.7.146-149) (1599)
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Making a film means, first of all, to tell a story. That story can be an improbable one, but it should never be banal. It must be dramatic and human. What is drama, after all, but life with the dull bits cut out.
Alfred Hitchcock (1899-1980) English film director
In François Truffaut, Hitchcock: A Definitive Study [Le Cinéma Selon Hitchcock], ch. 4 (1966) [tr. Truffaut (1967)]
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Why he avoids making "slice of life" films. Interview of Hitchcock by Truffaut.
Sometimes paraphrased as "Drama is life with the dull bits cut out."
CALVIN: A little rudeness and disrespect can elevate a meaningless interaction to a battle of wills and add drama to an otherwise dull day.
