Fascinated by Aristotle’s idea that the best moments of recognition hinge upon reversal, though he also mentions the recognition may arise from other sources – “Even inanimate things of the most trivial kind may in a sense be objects of recognition.” (That made me think of the compact with the broken mirror in Wilder’s “The Apartment,” the recognition of which marks a turning point of recognition for the main character.) One of my favorite moments of recognition in “The Odyssey” is when Odysseus’ decrepit old dog knows his returned master in beggar garb, tail thumping in greeting, just as Odysseus is about to vanquish all the suitors and re-win Penelope, the gods having deigned to allow him to return home at last. It also reminded me, oddly, of the Tamil poems, in which landscapes served as codes for certain themes and conditions, such as war, separation, love, and those poets’ audiences recognized what each stood for; any woman who loved a warrior recognized Death as her most hateful rival. (Modern literature, too – the snow, innocent as first love and death, that falls on the living and the dead at the end of Joyce’s “The Dead.”) And cinematographers use imagery to prompt recognition in this same way, I think – the image of ever-stoic, old Mattie at the end of “True Grit” with one sleeve pinned echoes the written version in the screenplay, “. . .a woman with brains and a frank tongue and one sleeve pinned up and an invalid mother to care for is not widely sought after,” and the audience recognizes – whether Mattie will allow herself the recognition or not – that Rooster Cogburn and LeBoeuf imprinted on her, in their odd menage, as if she were a little duck, and no man will ever appeal to her after them, even should she appeal to one. And recognizing her unacknowledged love also allows the audience to recognize the depth of her suffering when she arrives three days too late to say goodbye to Rooster. So there actually are levels of recognition in the best work, aren’t there? Recognitions made not only by the characters, but also by the audience members as well; and what a pleasure there is for an audience in recognizing something about a character, which makes us feel smart, and perhaps even vindicated if and when the character recognizes and acknowledges the change as well. And surely the writer of that New Testament story hoped for a particular moment of recognition on the part of the reader: “Well, if old Saul/Paul still could be converted after all of his sins, I reckon maybe I’m not beyond redemption myself. . .” Thank you once again, Scott, for spearheading this wonderful discussion of the “Poetics”!

(er, just to clarify - it was the dog's tail thumping, not Odysseus'. . .sigh. . .)

>>>As to the third part — the “Scene of Suffering” (Pathos) Aristotle's lumping of Suffering or Calamity (Pathos) with Reversal (Peripeteia) and Recognition (Anagnorisis) is not incidental in this section. Suffering is necessary to trigger the "fear and pity" response on the part of the audience, so central to Aristotle's concept of the cathartic experience. Suffering is price the character pays for the insight and wisdom that comes through Anagnorisis. "We suffer into knowledge" (the Chorus in Agamemnon by Aeschylus). Is that any less true in drama today? Even in comedies, characters suffer psychologically and physically in the course of struggling to solve their dramatic problem.

I think that Reversal and Recognition work best when aimed straight and true at the bull's eye of the essence of the character to inflict maximum damage-- Suffering. A combo "kill shot" at either the flaw and/or the one thing, the one moral value, the person the most passionately cares about. That's what makes the conclusion of "The Godfather" so tragically effective. It's not just that Kate realizes her husband is a Mafia Don, but that he has lied to her face. She can't trust her own husband.

Oh, that is a wonderful example of how experiencing the character's own recognition, and consequent suffering, helps the audience to achieve catharsis. . .thank you, pgronk!

By telling us that to create a Complex drama, you have to incorporate either Reversal or Recognition, or both, Aristotle is saying – Something has to happen in the course of the story. The cause-and-effect-driven events need to lead somewhere of significance. That somewhere can be a reversal in the external plot events or an internal discovery on the part of the character, or, in the best case, an external reversal that results in an internal discovery. This much is clear. The next passage, however, is a bit difficult to untangle, most likely due to convoluted translation. Yet I believe there is a key point buried within it: “There are indeed other forms [of recognition]. Even inanimate things of the most trivial?kind may in a sense be objects of recognition. Again, we may recognize?or discover whether a person has done a thing or not. But the recognition which is most intimately connected with the plot and action is, as we have said, the recognition of persons.” Where this translation says “inanimate objects,” the Kenneth McLeish translation inserts “unimportant matters,” which indicates to me that the intended meaning foremost has to do with matters or objects not based in action. A case is being made here that an internal recognition, or what we think of as character transformation, is far more convincing if it results from actions between characters rather than inactive sharing of information. He then goes on to say that combining Recognition with Reversal will create the emotional impact that is the very stuff of Tragedy. Furthermore, when recognition happens in the context of the characters relating to each other, there is also more opportunity to have it lead to an overall reversal of the character’s fortunes. As for the Scene of Suffering being a third essential plot element in addition to Reversal and Recognition, this is another transitional statement leading into the next section, except that first he takes a short detour to list the technical components of tragedy – Prologue, Parados, Stasimon, etc. – which is Chapter 12. But I think we can loosely translate Scene of Suffering as referring to the aftermath of the Reversal and Recognition. And remember, Aristotle is talking about Tragedy, which means, in short, everybody dies in the end. The only question is how.

BTW: Aristotle's last example of recognition, a 2 beat process between Iphighenia and her brother Orestes, refers to the play "Iphighenia in Tauris" by Euripides, a play where the recognition leads to a happy ending. However, in his last extant play,"Iphighenia in Aulis", Euripides took up the myth of the daughter of Agamemnon again, staying true to the original tragic story of the father sacrificing his daughter to appease the goddess Artemis so that favorable winds will blow enabling his warships to sail for Troy. That play also uses reversal: Iphighenia sails for Aulis expecting to be married to Achilles only to discover it's a setup, a ruse so she can be sacrificed.

Ah, Euripides! Always the rule breaker! Definitely my favorite among the Big Three.

Plot is a combination of acting and learning. The oldest myths showed heroes acting heroically and their emphasis was less on learning. People wanted to model their own actions after those characters. Movies took over the role of myth in our modern society, but since the ancient times, stories have incorporated more and more of the learning aspect. Without recognition, there's no coherent plot, because stories become episodic (this happens, then this happens, then this). There should be a nice build up that tracks the character change, so you don't have to use a light switch in the end. Reversals can turn everything the audience knew about the characters and the world they live in upside down. I guess you can't have that many in a movie. One should be enough if you even need one, because it always stretches the believeability.

I'm going to step out on a limb (which anyone is welcome to saw off) and say that reversal of some kind is not just a common plot beat in drama, but a necessary one. When it stretches believability, then I take that to be a symptom of poor plotting, of not devising the reversal in appropriate relationship to the fundamental nature and interests of the character (flaw, love interest, stakes, biggest dream, etc.)

One of the most memorable discussions of Peripeteia and Anagnorisis I can recall was a TED talk by Mike Rowe of Discovery Channel's Dirty Jobs. Incredibly effective example of his own discovery through reversal of opinion and recognition of erroneous assumptions. This talk sticks with me four years after I first heard it; I experienced peripeteia and anagnorisis myself in viewing this, coming away with a very different opinion of both Rowe and the program's potential impact. It's available on YouTube at this link. Key lesson runs from beginning of video through 10:30, though the entire talk is excellent for the meta lesson shaped by the experienced outlined earlier in the video.

That is an awesome TED talk - and I see why his discussion of peripeteia and anagnorisis stuck with you! Thank you for this link, Femme_Mal.

Thanks! I'm betting for men in particular this TED talk will be really, um, moving. (I'm sure they'll come up with better descriptions...)