Doesn't he seem to be describing the difference between knowledge and imagination, as well? The historian works with the former, but the poet (and the screenwriter) works with both, and especially the latter, because imagination allows for delving into the interstices between and around the facts, in order to speculate about possibilities. . . And this - awesome: "A screenplay that unfolds in the Present and carries with it in each moment the mystery and potential of what may happen can be a powerful thing. That aura of an indeterminate Future influenced by the forces of the Past looms large over any script we write. Hopefully." Thank you, Scott!

I think its a mistake to look at these first four sentences separate from the next three, especially considering our dependence on translation as we endeavor to unravel this text. Clearly, in these first sentences he is differentiating between a historian’s reportage of factual events and a poet’s license to creatively imagine those events. But we can’t overlook the stipulation he adds: “what is possible according to the laws of probability and necessity.” What does that mean? The fifth sentence begins “Poetry, therefore, . . .” giving a clear indication that what follows will shed light on what came before. He then says that poetry is a higher form than history because, whereas history is for reporting the particular (i.e., chronicling factual incident), poetry is for expressing the universal (i.e., drawing larger meaning from the specific incidents). Considering this, I disagree that Aristotle sees the poet’s area of focus as being on the outcome of the story’s plot. Over and over, he uses the phrase “of probability and necessity” which to me pretty easily translates to what we call “cause and effect,” the backbone of dramatic structure. Thus, he is not saying that the outcome of the plot is unknown (indeed, if it’s based on a historical incident, the outcome is known) so much as that it is the poets job to draw cause and effect relationships between the particular incidents in order to illuminate their larger meaning. To my reading, the remainder of that paragraph also supports the idea that, while the historian chronicles a series of events, the poet looks for cause and effect relationships among those events and structures their account accordingly. The implication being that it is the structuring of those cause and effect relationships that elevates the story to a higher universal expression. Sorry for jumping ahead. But sometimes a bigger picture is necessary for thorough understanding.

What Jennine said. The excerpt for today consists of premises. I think to fully appreciate Aristotle's comparison of history to poetry (and drama) requires the conclusion of those premises. And that conclusion is found in the following sentences she cites. There's a lot of food for thought in this chapter. And I appreciate the choice to "chew off" Chapter 9 in small bites. But I think we can find more insight into Aristotle's comparison of writing of history versus writing poetry and what it means for screenwriting by nibbling on a little more text.

Not a few historians have been bent out of shape by Aristotle's invidious comparison of their craft to the craft of writing drama. "It stands to reason that philosopher who characterized history in such an incredibly inadequate manner, without the least understanding of its nature and problems, was not infallible in his Poetics." (Walter Kaufmann, "Tragedy and Philosophy") But another is more tolerant: "It is quite consistent with Aristotle's view-point. In real life any chain of events is influenced by chance and accident. But the poet can and should represent an ideal sequence of events, the events as they would occur according to the general rules governing human behavior." (G.E.R. Lloyd, "Aristotle: The Grown and Stucture of his Thought") The historian's task is to establish credibility for his narrative by getting his facts right -- even if the facts involve random coincidence. In contrast, the poet's task is to establish credibility for his narrative by lining up characters and incidents in a chain of cause and effect ("law of probability or necessity") -- the facts be damned, if necessary. [See Spielberg's Lincoln" for a recent example of playing lose and fancy with historical narrative for the sake of dramatic narrative -- to the exasperation of Lincoln scholars and Civil War historians.]

Quote: "what may happen- what is possible according to the law of probability or necessity" There is a correlation between the past and the present, the present and the future. The writer can make up every story but the correlation between the events must have a certain pausibility within the created world. The role of the historian - reporting and analyzing events that happened- can be stretched if he/she uses these events to make predictions about future developments, though that will not be called historical reporting. The prediction of future events is, though, also a form of creating non-existing events that may exist in the future. If these events become true, the prediction will be part of history too if the the historian was notable. What has this to do with screenwriting? Writers can use history and predictions to make up stories, twist historical events or make new worlds. Writers have more freedom to create if only it's consistent within the world they create. I think I am rambling too much.

BTW: whatever its merits are not as history, Spielberg's "Lincoln" is a good example of several of Aristotle's dramatic principles. Steven Spielberg and writer Tony Kushner were influenced by Doris Kearns Goodwin's "Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln". But in the end, they did not try to adapt the entire book, the sprawling narrative of Lincoln's Presidency and the Civil War. (Just as Aristotle praised Homer for not recounting the entire 10 year Trojan War in "The Iliad".) Instead they focused on one episode in the Civil War. (Just as Homer focused on one episode of the Trojan War, the wrath of Achilles.) Kearns begins her book on May 18, 1860. Spielberg and Kushner begin AND end their drama in January, 1865 (plus a coda). The "unity of action" is not of character -- though it must have been tempting: Lincoln is one of the greatest American Presidents and certainly the most complex. Rather the unity of action is Lincoln's push to get the 13th Amendment passed abolishing slavery.

Thanks, Jennine, for that. I debated whether to include the concluding part of the paragraph and did indicate in the OP something of what lies ahead, but per my note of looking at this from a particularly screenwriting perspective, I decided to extract this first part to make the point about time and uncertainty of the Future. But you are absolutely right about A's larger point about how structuring cause and effect events is a key part of the poet's job and to the construction of a coherent narrative. Thanks again for making that point clear.

Melanie, imagination would seem to be implied there, wouldn't it? Poet is not "just the facts, ma'am" like an historian, but to, as you say, "speculate about possibilities." Part and parcel of the process of pulling together narrative elements into a cohesive whole which elevates poetry in A's eyes above the work of an historian.

pgronk, please see my response to jennine above. And thanks for reiterating her point.

Re screenwriting, this goes straight to the issue of historical adaptation, and I very much like this: "The historian’s task is to establish credibility for his narrative by getting his facts right — even if the facts involve random coincidence. In contrast, the poet’s task is to establish credibility for his narrative by lining up characters and incidents in a chain of cause and effect (“law of probability or necessity”) — the facts be damned, if necessary." In Hollywood they would say, "Don't let the facts get in the way of the story." I'm reminded of "A Beautiful Mind." Screenwriter Akiva Goldsman took some creative license with details of John Nash's life, some of them pretty significant. But when Nash himself saw the movie for the first time and was asked about those differences, he replied, "That [the movie] was my life." In other words, the story it told conveyed the essence of Nash's life-experience even if some of the facts had been changed.

dpg, excellent example with "Lincoln." This points out the distinction between a traditional biopic, which covers a character's entire life [or much of it] contrasted with what are sometime called "snapshot biopics" which take a specific period within an individual's life and use that as a lens through which to interpret the character's existence. Here is a quote from my interview with Arash Amel who wrote the upcoming movie "Grace of Monaco": "Well, there was a little bit of moving some timelines around. But by and large everything happened in 1962. The 1962 Franco?Monaco crisis is actually really well?documented, even though the French tried to bury it for many, many years, and this was the year that Monaco became Monaco just through serendipity crossed with the story of this woman who was in a personal crisis and thrown a lifeline by Alfred Hitchcock to say "Come back home. Come back. Be Grace Kelly again, I'll give you a ridiculous amount of money." "So it all kind of came together in the history, but what didn't exist in the history books Olivier and I, the director Olivier Dahan, we talked a lot about these scenes, I invented ...and when I say invented, I mean imagining the moments that would have taken place within the grey areas that no?one has documented. But also being free from the constraints of what actually happened, to get to the feelings of the woman and the emotions of her struggles. That’s the importance of cinema and it’s distinct from history." Amel chose to focus on this critical moment where France could have 'consumed' Monaco and how Kelly helped to save its independence, similar to "Lincoln," the focus on the 13th amendment. Strikes me the concept of "unity of action" is perhaps most important in an adaptation, especially one based on historical events. That's one of the big keys, finding that unity of action amidst all the available source material.

I'm not a historian, but I have read enough great historical books to know they can tell a whopping good story, too. And if events don't necessarily lay out as a narrative, well then, historians would, I assume, bring their own narrative sensibilities to the task. Then as you suggest, Shari, what about historians who extrapolate from the past about what might transpire in the future? That's looking at cause and effect as well.

Hey, folks, found this article today which might be of interest to you: The Classical Origins of Great TV which draws comparisons of some contemporary TV series and ancient Greek plays.

>>uncertainty of the Future. And isn't that the riddle of the Sphinx every writer has to answer? She has to (eventually) figure out: 1) How the story ends. 2) Build a chain of cause and effect that leads to that end and makes it believable. 3) With an emotional payoff (That,imho, is the central focal point of Aristotle's inquiry into tragedy; he was trying to figure out the mechanics of how it happens, explain how it is possible to evoke fear and pity in an audience.) 4] BUT do it all in a way that keeps the audience in the semi-dark, guessing, wondering, worrying, hoping about what may happen -- the future.

Thanks for the link. The parallels between then and now hearken to Aristotle's philosophical ideas about universals in relation to our modern psychological ideas about archetypes. (To be continued next week, I presume)

Oh, yes, what pgronk said - and thanks again for this link to Noah Charney's wonderful article; one that recalls yet another wonderful aspect of Imagination (I think) - access to all those emotions of which the facts, alone, cannot ever quite admit - those human emotions that, over millenia, as Charney notes, probably have not ever changed all that much. . .