We are somewhat far apart in that I see the Greeks as having gotten extremely close to many things (in a "You are not far from the Kingdom of God" kind of way). The main philosophers were all monotheists, and later Platonists--especially Plotinus, one of Augustine's favorites--actually got darn close to hitting on the Trinity.
The Birth of Jesus by Barna da Siena |
Perhaps they were asking the question, how can one be a hero when the age of heroes is over?
And Kierkegaard's Abraham (or just Abraham, really) gets very close to this quandary as well. The whole episode leaves us with far more questions than answers. Definitely no "pat" answers, and the Deus ex Machina, if you will, is not definitive or satisfying. The problem I have with the solution being, as you say, "alignment with God's will" is that it doesn't answer the fundamental questions posed by this episode in Abraham's walk with God--or, for that matter, any of the questions implicitly posed by the tragic figures of pagan times.
So what is the answer? Jesus Christ. But he is--and I say this with the utmost reverence--an answer that is irrational and irreducible. In other words, he cannot be reduced even to a complicated code of ethics or philosophy. Yes, he said things like "It is not everyone that says to me, 'My Lord, my Lord'', who enters the Kingdom of Heaven, but whoever does the will of my Father who is in Heaven" (Mt 7:21), but that's not all he did and said. He was wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a manger! He was baptised by a human being! He was crucified, died, and was buried! He comprehends everything that has happened before and since. He doesn't stand dumbfounded before the fate that Oedipus or Abraham suffered. And as inarticulate as those questions might have been (and I have a hard time calling Sophocles inarticulate), he comprehends all contradiction, paradox, ambiguity, irrationality and provides the answer in who he is. Note that I didn't say he just tells all those things to shut the f--- up (although he does that with the wind and waters sometimes). He comprehends them within his person.
I disagree with the phrasing that "from Marlowe onward, we've got tragic heroes who aren't marked by Olympus to suffer, but who bring about their own suffering, although there are always extenuating circumstances."
I think it's close to, but not as accurate as the Aristotelian characterization: "a man who is not eminently good and just--yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty" (Chapter 13). That's a very nuanced emphasis--the difference between tragic flaw and hamartia--but, as a professor I once heard explained, "His error is inextricably tied up with his human greatness." His greatness, that which places him above his fellows, is his willingness and ability to face his fate directly.
Neither did Arthur Miller believe in the traditional conception of a tragic flaw:
In the sense of having been initiated by the hero himself, the tale always reveals what has been called his "tragic flaw," a failing that is not peculiar to grand or elevated characters. Nor is it necessarily a weakness. The flaw, or crack in the characters, is really nothing--and need be nothing, but his inherent unwillingness to remain passive in the face of what he conceives to be a challenge to his dignity, his image of his rightful status. Only the passive, only those who accept their lot without active retaliation, are "flawless." Most of us are in that category.For Miller, the flaw sounds like a good thing! Kind of like how people answer that question that they ask in job interviews: What is one shortcoming that you have?
Answer: Oh, I guess I have this unwillingness to remain passive in the face of what I conceive to be a challenge to my dignity. I guess I don't just accept my lot without active retaliation.
Come on, that's not a flaw! The other one is a flaw!
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