In this original and thought-provoking work, S. argues that ‘the development of rhetoric was directly inspired by the creation of the new, even revolutionary, genre of tragic drama’ (p. 4). It is an ambitious project: one that seeks to overturn a wide range of assumptions, many of which were widely held by ancient authors. In particular, S. believes that the formal study of rhetoric, far from being the creation of the Sicilians Corax and Tisias, was a by-product of the development of tragedy. He thus questions the assumption that tragedy became more rhetorical in the late fifth century b.c. under the influence of early proponents of the art, such as Gorgias. Instead he sees the rhetorical features of tragedies as the product of a ‘purely poetic’ tradition, which led in turn to the development of rhetorical theory.
The book is well written and well presented. S. has divided it into two parts: the first outlines S.'s understanding of ‘what drama does and how it does it’, while the second concerns the ‘invention of rhetoric’ itself. Chapter 1 sets out the general thesis. S. argues that the invention of drama, in adding a visual element to poetry, represented a revolution in Greek poetic culture, so great that it in turn acted as the catalyst for the development of formal rhetoric. He notes that the terms theatre and spectator (θέατρον; θεατής) imply sight, while the audiences of other poets and rhapsodes are said only to listen. S. also attempts to explain why scholars have failed or been unwilling to question the traditional view. He cites a general reluctance to credit poets with intellectual developments, and the inability of modern critics to appreciate fully the impact drama would have had upon the first ever audiences. S claims the distinction between tragedy and earlier poetic genres was later obscured by Aristotle, who played down the visual element of tragedies. Aristotle, he argues, belonged to a literate minority (p. 12), and thus was possessed of ‘an aristocratic disdain’ (p. 42) for the visual element of drama.
Chapter 3 addresses possible problems for his argument. The most serious is that Plato specifically refers to the audience of the rhapsode Ion as spectators (τῶν θεατῶν, Ion 535d). He argues that Plato had a vested interest in blurring the boundaries between rhapsodia and drama: he wished to claim that all poets were influenced by the Muses, even though dramatic poets did not invoke the Muse at the start of their works. The radical nature of this visual element is discussed in Chapters 4–6. While the rhapsode tries to make an audience imagine another time and place, actors present the story before the audience's eyes in real time. The audience of drama can thus hear the voice of one actor, while watching for and anticipating the reactions of his addressee at the same time.
Part 2 calls into question the commonly-held belief that Euripides was directly influenced by the new rhetorical theorists of the late fifth century, and that the rhetorical features of his plays were new to tragedy. M. Lloyd, The Agon in Euripides (1992), is singled out for criticism in particular. In Chapter 7 he suggests that the ‘self-conscious’ manipulation of language to persuade dates back to Aeschylus who had ‘found himself in a position unlike that of any previous poet … of composing words to be spoken not only to an audience but also to a character on stage who might be expected to respond to those words’ (p. 155). He suggests that Gorgias was in fact influenced by Aeschylus. In Chapters 8 and 9, S. goes on to outline rhetorical features found in Aeschylus and the early plays of Euripides, such as the use of direct questions and the anticipation of an opponent's arguments.
S. is aware that his claims are controversial: ‘the authority of Aristotle’ he admits ‘and the seductive force of longstanding tradition are formidable obstacles to overcome’ (p. xi). Though the book contains many interesting ideas, I have some reservations regarding the overall thesis and, in particular, its claim that tragedy was an entirely radical innovation. The main difficulty is that S. is forced to explain away ancient sources. Aristotle is admittedly no longer treated as the definitive authority on tragedy, yet perhaps we should be cautious about dismissing his interpretation as biased or unrepresentative. It is more than likely that Aristotle formed his opinions through both reading the texts and watching performances. And even if he could be described as an ‘aristocrat’, S. naturally cannot present any evidence for the views of the illiterate ‘majority’, and so we have no compelling reason to suppose that they were any different. The voice of an actor and his ability to deliver the words of the poet seem to have been highly valued in antiquity and there may have been a greater emphasis placed on what a theatre audience heard than S. is willing to admit. (Cf. Pl. Resp. 586c; Leg. 817c; Plut. Dem. 10; Diod. Sic. 15.7; see P.E. Easterling, ‘Actors and Voices’, in R. Osborne and S. Goldhill [edd.], Performance, Culture and Athenian Democracy [1999], pp. 154–66.)
S.'s claim that Plato has used ‘devious means’ (p. 47) to blur the lines between the activities of actors and rhapsodes is no more convincing. Though the Muse was not explicitly invoked at the beginning of a tragedy, there can be no doubt that tragedians were thought to be under the influence of the goddess. The author of epigrams concerning the tomb of Euripides in Pieria is keen to stress his special relationship to the Muses (‘Ion’ Anth. Pal. 7.43.2; 7.44.5–6) and, as S. notes, Aeschylus and Euripides in Aristophanes' Frogs (884–94) both call upon the divine. Rather than assuming that Plato or Aristotle have somehow conspired to obscure the truth (and with astonishing success), it is easier to believe that they were simply unaware of a strict dichotomy between tragedy and other poetic genres.
Finally, I am not absolutely convinced by S.'s outline of the ‘visual element’ of tragedy. Actions and gestures are frequently indicated with words, suggesting that what audience members see and hear are not necessarily simultaneous. Poets may have felt the need to direct the attention of audiences to different parts of the stage. For example, in discussing Euripides, Phoenissae 454–9, S. notes ‘it is one thing to be told … that Eteocles and Polyneices cannot bear to look at one another; it is another matter altogether to see the two brothers conspicuously avoiding eye contact’ (p. 109). And yet this scene shows the pains Euripides takes to point out this action with words. Furthermore, although the audience can see that Polyneices has turned away from Eteocles, they cannot see the expression of hate on Eteocles' face because of his mask: Iocasta has to describe it to them (454–6).
Though S.'s central thesis is not entirely convincing, the book is none the less valuable for the potential questions it raises regarding drama's relationship with rhetoric. He convincingly demonstrates that Euripides' use of rhetorical features was not an innovation confined to his later plays and his claim that Gorgias was influenced by Aeschylus seems plausible. We may wonder whether scholars have overestimated the impact of Gorgias and other late fifth-century teachers of rhetoric. Though the teaching of rhetoric was new in the late fifth century, the practice of making speeches was not. Could it be that tragedy and rhetoric developed alongside each other? The Greeks certainly did not distinguish between poets and ‘intellectuals’ and the often complex relationships between poets, orators and sophists merit further study.
