A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies

Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

The Comic Spirit in Ola Rotimi‟s The Gods Are

Not to Blame: A Critical Survey

Edward Egbo Imo

Department of Theatre and Film Studies
University of Port Harcourt
eddygoron@yahoo.com, 08037321863,
07018198952

Abstract
The study takes a cursory look at the comic devices deployed by Ola
Rotimi in driving home the tragic vision in The gods Are not to Blame.
The thrust of the paper is to unveil the uniqueness of Rotimi‟s dramatic
techniques whereby he infuses a reasonable dose of comic devices in
his serious and tragic masterpiece-The gods Are not to Blame.
Drawing from the infusion of such comic devices as humour, pun,
insanity, wits, farcical characterization, mechanical rigidity,
misunderstood motives and intrigues, the paper brandishes Rotimi as a
contemporary Nigerian playwright whose dramaturgical canvass
accommodates the mixed form just as we find in the works of his
Western contemporaries as epitomized in William Shakespeare. The
study adopts the literary methodology and qualitative approach to
research as it relied on the play text of The gods Are not to Blame as
primary source of data collection while the method of the analysis is
largely phenomenological based on the Researcher‟s analytical point
of view. The fundamental finding of this study is that Rotimi is one of
the few Nigerian playwrights whose creative vision and dramatic
experiments are flexible enough to accommodate the mixed form. The
study therefore beckons on budding playwrights to disentangle
themselves from stereotypes and playwriting rules that limit their
creative ingenuity and embrace the romantic spirit that encourages
freedom of creative expression. The recommendation is an offshoot of
the researcher‟s position that playwriting is, fundamentally, a product
of inspiration and inspiration, in turn, functions maximally in an
atmosphere devoid of rules and restrictions.

Keywords: Comedy, Tragedy, Genre and Survey

58
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

Introduction
Since the inception of theatre in the classical Greece of the 5th Century
B.C to the gladiatorial theatrical tradition of the Roman theatre down
into the Middle Ages and the Renaissance era, drama has always
manifested itself in two broad genres namely; Tragedy and comedy. In
their commonest definitions, tragedy refers to dramatic genres that are
heavy in tonality ,treat serious issues such as the death or misfortune of
the hero who often times is of noble birth while comedy applies to
dramatic forms that are expressed in light and fast tones, treats
domestic issues such as love, marriages with hilarious characters that
deviate from societal norms in their strive for societal relevance.

History has it that the Renaissance era, amidst its clamour for the
humanist perspective to ultimate realty, brought about some
proliferation of sub-genres within the two major genres of tragedy and
comedy. But with the Elizabethan and Modern periods came the rise of
the mixed forms as evident in melodrama, tragi-comedy, satire and so
on. Today, modern playwrights are at liberty to experiment their
creative impulse in various dramatic forms whether tragedy or comedy
or a mixture of both. Driven by this poetic license, as a result of the
triumph of the romantic spirit of creative liberty over the dogmatic
principles of Classicism, playwrights resorted to the fusion of comic
situations and incidents in a supposed serious play or the introduction
of serious dramatic atmosphere in a supposed comic piece. The
consistency in this eclectic experiment has brought about a multiplicity
of dramatic sub-genres which gain their root from either tragedy or
comedy. Today, it has become possible for theatre analysts, reviewers
and critics to classify a piece of drama as either “Serious Comedy” or
“Dark Comedy” or “Dark Humour” when such a dramatic piece
express life threatening issues in a crude humorous style just as we find
in Theatre of the Absurd. On the other hand, it is common amongst
theatre theorists and critics to label a piece of drama as melodrama
even when the drama involves the death of some characters including
the hero(es) of the play just as we find in Zulu Sofola‟s Wedlock of the
Gods.

The thirst, quest and consequently, the patronage for the mixed form by
contemporary playwrights have occasioned some form of skepticism in
the strict compliance to the Aristotelian concept of tragedy which
insists on the use of sublime language in its completeness with high

59
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

level of actions that would ultimately lead to the downfall and possible
destruction of the hero due to a flaw in his dispositions.
This paper therefore examines the comic content in Rotimi‟s The Gods
Are Not to Blame with the aim of investigating whether the infusion of
comic relief in such a tragic masterpiece downplays or facilitates the
intended tragic vision of the playwright. It attempts a critical survey of
Rotimi‟s deliberate and intermittent infusion of comic relief through the
machinery of contrived plot, humour (euphemism, circumlocution,
verbosity, non-sequitur, repetition), metaphors, intrigues and farcical
and hilarious characterization.

The Comic Spirit: A Conceptual Statement

Research in the past and even the present reveal that of the two broad
generic classifications of drama i.e tragedy and comedy, the latter poses
more difficulty to be defined. This is largely because comedy has had
such a complex theatrical history, passing through so many forms and
styles, or perhaps because the comic spirit, as it exists within the
individual human being, is itself so complex so as to resist definition.
Pickering observes that one of the factors militating against scholarly
attempts at defining comedy is the lure to explore such side issues as
the psychological and even the physiological basis of laughter. He
therefore, opines that “the best place to begin an examination of
dramatic comedy is not with specifics but with generalities-with the
comic spirit” (51). Pickering‟s concern here is to reinforce the
argument that comedy transcends the risible even though laughter is the
yardstick by which we usually measure comic success. According to
him:
For most audiences and critics alike, the most
successful comedies are those that get the most laughs.
However, laughter is not restricted to comedy but is
also an end product of various emotions and physical
situations that have little or nothing to do with
dramatic, artistically created comedy. Laughter may be
the result of certain types of physical stimulation, such
as tickling, or of too many martinis, or of hysteria, or
of an attempt to cover up either embarrassment or an
excessive emotional reaction. In many cases, people
choose to laugh because they are too ashamed
or embarrassed to cry. (52)

60
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

In Pickering‟s analogy, what is at the heart of the comic spirit is an

emphasis on life as it lived, day by day and even hour by hour.
Similarly, Wright notes that the very heart of comedy lies in man‟s
recognition of how far his fellow man has fallen from the ideal. From
Wright‟s thesis, comedy is often measured by the sharpness of our
perception in recognizing those differences between what man is and
what he pretends to be. “Comedy is the sworn enemy of hypocrisy and
pretense…it is God‟s gift to disaffect the world of pomposity” (Wright,
49). Wright acknowledges the fact that comedy is the most
miscellaneous of all the dramatic forms and the most difficult to define.
He traces this difficulty partially to man‟s characteristic oversight and
negligence of the comic genre. He observes that no one would question
that comedy is one of the most popular of all types, being challenged
only by farce. “If man wants escape he can usually find it through
laughter , and too often he cares not how it is provoked”.(Wright,55)
He goes further to draw up some basic tests for comedy having
surveyed the best comedies in twenty-five hundred years of theatre
history and experience. His thesis reveals that across the ages, comedy:

Treats its subjects in a lighter vein even though the

subject may be a serious one; provokes what can be
defined as “thoughtful laughter”; is both possible and
probable; Grows out of character rather than
situation; Is honest in its portrayal of life (55).

Interestingly also, such prominent psycho analytical theorist as

Sigmund Freud and his followers believe that comedy allows us to
release tension and deal with the dangers and stresses in the world.
Esslin amplifies Freud‟s thesis on laughter in his book An Anatomy of
Drama when he notes that:

Freud, another important writer on the nature of

laughter, thought that laughter was caused by the
relief of anxiety: what shakes us when we laugh is
the nervous energy released when we realize that the
misfortune we saw coming does not directly affect
us, that we are free from it‟s consequences (72).

For Seyler and Haggard, comedy is simply a point of view. It is a

comment on life from outside, an observation on human nature. One
would seem to agree with Seyler and Haggard when we observe that an
emotional acting of a serious part involves absorption in the character
61
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

i.e identification with it, losing one‟s self in another‟s but on the other
hand, comedy seems to be the standing outside a character or situation
and pointing out one‟s delight in certain aspects of it. It is for the
forgoing that comedy:

…demands the co-operation of another mind on

which this observation is to be made-the audience,
and is in essence the same as recounting a good story
over the dinning table-table. It must have direct
contact with the person to whom it is addressed, be it
one‟s friend over the port or one‟s friends in the stalls
and pit (Seyler and Haggard 9).

Establishing a direct contact with an audience in Seyler and Haggard‟s

opinion refers to some kind of subtle psychological bond i.e the
subconscious acknowledgement that the intention of one‟s job as
comedian is to point out some thing to an audience, and that the
audience‟s reaction to this makes up an integral part of the comedian‟s
job. The deduction to make from the above is that all degrees of
comedy have in common the “subtle psychological bond” by which
you say one establishes contact with one‟s audience.

Altshuler and Janaro‟s thesis would be of immediate relevance here.

For them, the value of one‟s critical awareness whether theatrical
comedy works or not is to enlarge the sphere of one‟s potential laugh.
In their opinion, the consumer of serious comedy such as those of
Shaw finds pleasure in what has been called “laughter of the mind”
while the popcorn eater is likely to persist in the delusion that comedy
has no intellectual aspects and is off limits to the highbrow (205). It
suffices to state that the immediate effect of the comic in the theatre is
to make us feel better about things. Unarguably, the experience of
being in the theatre with others, laughing with them, creates an
undeniable sense of high spirits. In the process, personal problems tend
to be less pressing than they might the next morning. However,
Altshuler and Janaro are skeptical about the ephemeral nature of comic
happiness:

To run to comedy as a means of “forgetting” is to ask

for a false happiness that resembles intoxication-fun
for a while but pain when it wears off. Each time one
returns from a laughing holiday one is likely to find

62
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

his personal problems seeming a little bit worse…

(205).

Furthermore, Altshuler and Janaro view incongruity as the essence of

the comic. For them, the basic function of all good comedies is to give
us a fresh perspective by making us, at least saner, for the time being.
Their position must have been informed by Bergson‟s analogy in his
masterpiece, Laughter where he states that we always laugh at either
the incongruous or the irrational. From the clown that slips on the
banana peel to the subtlest form of verbal wit, comedy offers something
that violates our reason. It turns the world topsy-turvy for the moment
and in so doing, shocks us. “The tension we experience from this shock
finds its release in laughter. Laughing is the victory of reason over
unreason” (Bergson cited in Altshuler and Janaro, 206).

Upon a critical examination of both the corroborative and divergent

scholarly opinions on the concept of comedy, one observes that it is
practically possible for comedy to evoke laughter without being
pointedly satiric and even satire must contain ingredients other than
criticism. It is stating the obvious that the comedies that have filtered
through the years are characteristically and structurally couched on
funny premises. The implication is that the very idea which is central to
the plot represents a fundamental incongruity.

Tragedy and Comedy as Complimentary and yet Distinctive Terms

Across the ages and among theatre theorists, there has been a great deal
of difficulty in trying to disentangle tragedy from comedy or vise versa.
This is largely because both dramatic forms find their roots from the
same source of human experience. Esslin notes that the several attempts
by respective scholars to speculate and philosophize the disparities
between tragedy and comedy has tremendous influence on the actual
practice of playwriting, acting and production in general (67). Esslin
argues that there is no generally accepted and acceptable definition of
both dramatic genres and that the simplest definition which many
theoreticians discharge as simple-minded is the one that defines tragedy
as a play with a sad ending and comedy as play with a happy ending.
However, one of the ways to distinguish the two forms is to examine
their areas of focus, or what they tend to depict. Tragedy is concerned
primarily with the individual, while comedy is concerned with society
as a whole (Grawe, 6) .This underscores the fact that tragedy focuses
on death while comedy focuses on life. The individual, must of

63
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

necessity, die, but society continues to procreate and to live on

generation after generation. Grawe makes an interesting comparison
between tragedy and comedy in terms of their structure and purposes:
…tragedy asserts humanity‟s moral dimension, often
going on to assert that a person‟s morality may make
it impossible for him to keep living. Tragedy
repeatedly asserts that there are situations in which
humanity‟s “higher nature” forces us to take action,
even when such action must end in our own demise
(16).

On the other hand, Grawe attempts a description of the role and

purpose of comedy, thus:

Comedy‟s basic message is that the human race will

survive, that it is destined to carry on… comedy as
seen from a formal perspective is the representation
of life patterned to demonstrate or to assert a faith in
human survival ,often including or emphasizing how
that survival is possible or under what conditions
that survival takes place(17).

It is largely on Grawe‟s premise that comedy enjoys so much

popularity. Life and survival are messages that people want to hear, and
judging by the success of comedies during serious and deadly times,
such as the great depression and World War 11, perhaps it is something
that we need to hear..

Upon a more critical look at the two most outstanding dramatic genres
(tragedy and comedy), one realizes that they are intertwined and
interwoven to the point that the existence of one is largely determined
by the existence of the other. For instance, tragedy, on one hand, deals
with the individual, but, at the same time, it is universal, and on the
other hand, comedy broadly deals with all of society, but is more
specific to its time and place. Comedy has the power to show us truth
and in this power lies comedy‟s incongruity essence. Merchant informs
that the entanglement between tragedy and comedy as dramatic forms
dates back to their earliest days. He goes on to describe several
examples of the comic in the context of tragedies of E, Aeschylus, and
Sophocles showing how closely the two forms have always been
related (16).Even the very basis of tragedy has been described in terms
that are very similar to the way we defined comedy ab initio. Northrop
64
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

Frye notes that “…the incongruous and the inevitable…are combined

in tragedy (42).

As revealed above, tragedy and comedy are distinctive in

approach, form and content. However, there is a complimentary
disposition that has led to an emergent sub-genre under the
umbrella of tragic-comedy which has grown so popular in
contemporary literary parlance. It is this mixed form genre that this
study sets out to examine.

Synopsis of The gods Are Not to Blame

The story of The Gods Are Not to Blame bothers on fate and
predestination. As an adaptation of Sophocles‟ classical tragic
masterpiece, Oedipus Rex, it unveils the story of Odewale, who, in a
bid to runaway from the oracular pronouncement that he would kill his
father and marry his mother, gets entangled in the same tragic web.
Upon his birth into the household of King Adetusa, the King of Kutuje,
the oracle, through the mouth of Baba Fakunle, pronounces that baby
Odewale has to be killed in order to avert the tragedy that he has
brought into this world from the gods. As it is the custom, the priest of
Ogun prepares the baby for the ritual murder and hands him over to
Gbonka, the King‟s most trusted messenger to oversee the final
execution at the evil groove. On his part, Gbonka, overwhelmed by the
milk of human kindness and compassion, spares the life of the baby and
entrusts the baby into the custody of Ogundele, a hunter from Ijekun
Yemoja that strays into Ipetu bush.

Years after, Odewale grows into a vibrant and hardworking farmer and
warrior from the court of Ogundele and in an attempt to assert his full
independence and self determination, he embarks on a journey where
he encounters two rival communities at war (Kutuje and Ikolu) and he
lends a helping hand to the people of Kutuje and together they defeat
the people of Ikolu. In excitement, the people of Kutuje, break their
tradition and make Odewale, a supposed stranger, king. However, the
tragic twist sets in as the people of Kutuje are thrown into plague,
famine and drought all at once and in their quest to know the reason for
their suffering, the oracle reveals that the murderer of their late king
resides in the palace with them. From this moment, Odewale gets
agitated and pronounces series of severe punishments for the “would
be” murderer of the king. After series of traces and revelations
especially from Alaka and Gbonka respectively, it dawns on Odewale

65
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

that he is the murderer that he seeks and in a bid to keep to his kingly
pronouncements, he disgorges his eyes and embarks on a journey into
oblivion alongside his four children-products of his union with his
mother, Queen Ojuola, who equally commits suicide.

The Comic Spirit in The gods Are Not to Blame

It has been established earlier in this study that whereas Rotimi‟s The
Gods Are Not to Blame is an archetypal tragedy, it also embodies an
intermingling of a reasonable dose of comic devices as made manifest
in humour, wit, sarcasm, misunderstood motives, pretentiousness,
madness, mechanical rigidity, pomp and pageantry and so on.
However, for purposes of clarity and precision, the comic spirit in the
play would be examined along the broad elements of contrived plot,
humorous/witty language and stereotyped, hilarious, pretentious and
psychopathic characters.

(i) Comedy Arising from Contrived Plot: The comic spirit in

The Gods Are Not to Blame is conveyed largely through the
use of contrived plot which, in turn, yields series of comic
situations. In the prologue, Odewale bemoans the tragedy
ravaging the land of Kutuje as a result of famine, drought and
plague. In course of his lamentation, he recounts how he was
made king. Rather than allow Odewale to mention it in
passing and continue with his tragic narration, the playwright
deliberately catapults us to the glorious and hilarious past
when Odewale was crowned amidst singing, drumming,
dancing and merriment. As Rotimi puts it “(CHIEFS come
forward and invest ODEWALE in royal robes and crown
while the TOWNSPEOPLE dance round him, paying
homage…Heavy bata drumming bursts forth, and ROYAL
BARD dances off to the rhythm of kutelu) (Rotimi,7) The
playwright‟s invocation of this atmosphere of merriment,
celebration and pomp and pageantry amidst Odewale‟s
pathetic narration in the presence of his hungry, sick and dying
subjects, is geared towards dissuading the audience from
getting too attached to the tragic feeling which would arise
from the narration.

After the comic relief occasioned by the coronation revelry, the tragic
tonality comes back more alive as the people of Kutuje herald the
palace amidst sprawling, vomiting, lamentation, despair,
66
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

disillusionment and anguish. The height of their sorrow and suffering

accelerates to the point that the people of Kutuje drop their traditional
courtesy and reverence for their king by refusing to notice his presence
and greet him in a way befitting of a king. Even when the chiefs try to
prod them to greet the king, First Citizen is quick to wave it off saying
„…What use are greetings to a dying body? (Rotimi,9) The response
from the citizens above best captures the depth of psychological trauma
that the pestilence, epidemic, famine and drought in the land of Kutuje
have inflicted on the citizens. Amidst this melancholic atmosphere,
Rotimi introduces yet another hilarious moment by announcing the safe
arrival of Aderopo from Ile-Ife where he had gone to consult the gods
so as to know the root cause of their suffering. Upon the reception of
Aderopo‟s arrival, the people of Kutuje jump out of their bereavement
and cheer up with an air of optimism even without seeing or hearing
any good news from Aderopo. This sudden transition from the mood of
bereavement to that of joy and excitement even without confirming the
content of Aderopo‟s message from the gods is one of Rotimi‟s
numerous techniques aimed at occasioning the comic spirit in the play.

The comic spirit drawn from Aderopo‟s arrival lingers as the people of
Kutuje begin to listen to Odewale as he admonishes them to go about
their struggles with gladness. The playwright portrays the villager‟s
optimism, thus:
TOWNSPEOPLE (Inspired, beginning to disperse). We
shall go!
Long may your highness live!
We thank you, our lord!
May your reign be blessed!
Long may the crown rest on your head!
And the royal shoes on your feet! (Rotimi,
15)

The passage above strikes an ironic note when viewed against the
background that it is the same group of villagers who had earlier
questioned the import of greeting the king that now praise him to high
heavens.

The playwright tries to sustain the comic tempo by planting a

psychopath, Iya Aburo who refuses to exit with the towns people
because she seems to have breached communication with humanity. On
seeing her standing aloof in the palace, Odewale beckons on Iya Aburo,
67
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

thus; “…Sister, I hope it is nothing” In response, she kneels

deferentially as she coos: “ He will come, your highness. I …I told him,
the gods bear me witness…I told him and he said he was coming too.
(Rotimi, 15) The use of disconnected dialogue characteristic of
absurdist plays facilitates the comic spirit as we see some form of
linguistic ambiguity. Iya Aburo‟s response and trail of thought quickly
brandishes her as an insane person and so Odewale orders his guard,
Labata to take the baby from her. The comic spirit again is sustained as
Iya Aburo gladly hands over the baby to Labata saying “…carry her
well…she must live…to eat yams in small small bathrooms (Rotimi,
16) She mutters the same words until she backs out of sight, thus
holding forth the comic tempo that has been on since the hilarious exit
of the people of Kutuje.

Another comic scenario woven into the plot of the play is the entrance
of Alaka, Odewale‟s long lost friend and “perceived” tribes man into
the palace. Oblivious of the tragedy that has engulfed Kutuje, Alaka
insists on seeing the King and after series of resistance, he finally
makes his way into the palace boasting of his tribal connection with the
King. He goes ahead to threaten the guards, thus: “…Let the king come
out and you will all know me! Look…all of you…(Rotimi, 41) When
accosted by Abero to know his identity as requested by the King, he
responds, thus: “ …tell him the Farmer wants to see the Scorpion!”
(Rotimi,42) Having responded to Abero‟s question, he turns to
Ojuola‟s direction and reminds her that his calabash is empty meaning
that he wants more wine. And when finally Odewale appears, Alaka
jumps around in joy and excitement as he consistently embraces
Odewale amidst praise singing:

ALAKA; Scorpion! One that must not

be vexed Smooth on the surface
like a woman‟s jewelpoison at the tail.
It is you I greet, (Prostrating himself)
Son of my master the hunter who squats
playfully to kill a lion (Rotimi, 43)

Alaka‟s excitement culminates in a stylized dance movement purported

to be an Ijekun dance step. His warm and cheerful disposition takes
Odewale momentarily from a state of melancholy to that of revelry,
thus dousing the lingering tension in the land of Kutuje. When finally
Alaka gets the drift of Odewale‟s looming tragedy, he absorbs the
68
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

situation and tries to parry it by injecting subterfuges and intrigues all

aimed at dissuading Odewale from bothering so much about his true
identity. But when he observes that Odewale is unrelenting in his quest
for his true identity, he reveals to Odewale that, contrary to his long
held conception, Ogundele and his wife, Mobike are not his biological
parents. This revelation further complicates Odewale‟s true identity,
thus:

ALAKA: The hunter Ogundele and his wife Mobike…

you think they gave you life? Anyway lets not bring
that up now
ODEWALE; What do you mean?
ALAKA: Never mind.
OJUOLA: They are not his mother and father?
ODEWALE: I am a butterfly then, calling myself a bird.
ALAKA: (getting up to leave). I pray you, my bowels are
heavy, I must go ease
ODEWALE: (pulling him down toughly to his seat again).
What is this joke?
ALAKA: (trying to sound casual). I am glad to see that your
youthful, hot temper is still with you, my brother.
Scorpion…one that must not be…
(ODEWALE hurls ALAKA to the fl;oor, and pins him down.
Genral commotion) (Rotimi, 61)

The excerpt above aptly captures Rotimi‟s infusion of the comic spirit
all in an attempt at toning down the tragic depth that has been
predominant in the plot. Alaka‟s series of attempts at trivializing and
shying away from such a serious issue is a deliberate attempt by the
playwright to juxtapose tragedy and comedy. The infusion of the comic
lingers into the final lap of the play when the long awaited Gbonka
arrives at the palace. Amidst tension, panic and inquisitiveness in the
land over Odewale‟s true identity, Gbonka, the former king‟s most
trusted messenger, now fully old, saunters in to exhibit another round
of frivolities. Rather than provide straight answers to Odewale‟s
questions, Gbonka resorts to counter questions and unnecessary ad-libs
aimed at downplaying the serious issue of hunting for the true killer of
King Adetusa. With a profound sense of indifference and detachment
Gbonka volunteers the information that Odewale seeks as he points in
the direction of Ogun Priest saying he ordered him to kill baby

69
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

Odewale in the bush. Having made his point, Gbonka saunters out
without any attachment to the tragedy that looms in the palace.

(ii) Comedy Arising from Language: Language is yet another

vehicles through which Rotimi drives the comic machinery in
the play. This is evident in the generous use of sarcasm, non-
sequiturs, repetition, humour and so on. The first
manifestation of comic language register is in the lines of IYA
ABURO who speaks more of disconnected language i.e
expressing words the way they came into the mind without
recourse to rational control. She hallucinates about her late
husband‟s death and in the process resorts to the use of
apostrophe in order to convey the depth of psychological
trauma which her husband‟s demise has caused her. Also,
Rotimi uses the death of IYA ABURO‟s husband to portray
the damaging effect of the epidemic and famine in the land of
Kutuje. She expresses her psychopathic dispositions through
language, thus:

IYA ABURO: I thank you, your highness…He said

so, I swear… (Laughs loudly.) He was coming, he
was coming, then he went and got all dressed up, and
went directly to the farm, not looking right, not
looking left (Rotimi, 17)

The language above is a non-sequitur since it does not respond

coherently to Odewale‟s beckon if she needs help. The language also
lacks logical sequence since there is no synchrony between the premise,
proposition and conclusion. Even when LABATA, one of the king‟s
messengers gets close to her, she looks in his direction and addresses
him, thus: “… You come too late, my husband. We have…oh, pity…we
have just finished eating yams in the king‟s small small
bathroom…small small bathrooms…(Rotimi,16) IYA ABURO„s lines
above produce high comic results since it is termed incongruous that a
mad woman tarries in the palace when all other towns people have
departed just to curry the king‟s attention. And when finally she has the
platform to speak, she resorts to surrealistic language. We are bound to
laugh more when we appreciate the fact that no normal person would
prefer to “eat yams in the king‟s small small bathrooms”.

70
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

Another hilarious moment driven by language in the play is the

encounter between Odewale and Akilapa in Act Two Scene Four where
Akilapa in a bid to respond swiftly to Odewale‟s summon , rushes in
and scares Odewale. Rotimi‟s portrayal of the scenario is quite
intriguing, thus:

(Bodyguard AKILAPA bursts in, spear in hand.

ODEWALE springs defensively to his
feet, wide-eyed with
fright.)
ODEWALE: Who sent you to kill me!
AKILAPA: (panting). The Queen. She
says your highness calls
me.
ODEWALE: (somewhat relieved). So,
do you have to
tear in like that?
Hunh?
(seizes him by the neck.)
Man. man. man… look at
him! Everything: gira,
gira, gira…power, power,
force, force…action,
Action!
No thoughts, no patience,
no coolness of blood. Yet
you go about
shouting that you are
better than women,
superior to women…
(Shoves him aside.) Get
out, braggart, go marry a
woman and
learn coolness of mind
from her.

AKILAPA: (astonished). Aha! But my

lord, I already have seven
wives!
ODEWALE: (sharply). Well, marry
again, Idiot!
71
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

AKILAPA: (resignedly).If it is your

will, my lord…(Rotimi,
40)

The excerpt above embodies a handful of the comic spirit as it reveals

Odewale‟s admiration and soft spot for women as well as his fears in
the face of danger. He springs defensively to his feet with his eyes wide
open with fright when Akilapa bursts into the palace. This is highly
comic since his reaction betrays his exalted position as a dreaded king
and warrior. Odewale‟s use of the term “gira gira gira” which means
“force force” in Rotten English parlance, is an attempt by Rotimi to
devalue language as well as portay Akilapa (and indeed all men) as
machine-like creatures bereft of rational faculty and coolness of the
mind. Little wonder, he charges Akilapa to go marry a woman and
learn coolness of mind from her. In mild protest, Akilapa informs him
that he has seven wives already but Odewale becomes more sarcastic in
response as he sharply urges him, thus, „Well, marry again, Idiot!”
(Rotimi, 40). Odewale‟s charge on Akilapa is highly comic as it strikes
an ironic note considering that Odewale‟s charge on his poor servant
to take an eighth wife came up at a time that his kingdom has been
impoverished and ravaged by epidemic, famine and drought. It can be
argued that Odewale‟s charge on Akilapa is a gimmick which Odewale
deployed to get out of the melancholic mood he has been thrown before
Akilapa burst in. Shortly before Akilapa‟s dramatic entrance, Odewale
has been engrossed in a deep thought and out of share dilemma, he
performs an expiatory ritual as he laments, thus:

ODEWALE:…(cleansing himself in the sacred water.)

Cool me, Ogun, cool me…
The blood is hot. The blood is because
fear grips the heart of Odewale, Son of
Ogundele, a stranger in this land. Fear
now grips my heart as I discover how
King Adetusa, who ruled this land
before me, was killed.

Minds are not clean. If Adetusa, a son

of Kutuje, could be killed in Violence,
and the murderer be hidden from
vengeance; In this same Land, what will
the people of Kutuje not do to me of
72
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

Ijejun tribe? Who I Trust? Ogun, who

can I ? (Rotimi, 40)

Upon a critical examination of the tonality in Odewale‟s language in

the passage above, one realizes that he sounds sober, uncertain, unsafe,
scared-quite characteristic of a man in dilemma but Akilapa‟s dramatic
entrance jolts him out of that melancholy and his tonality automatically
changes to that of a man of authority, bravery, agility, and total control
of his emotions and kingdom. The sudden twist in Odewale‟s language
and temperament produce that warm atmosphere which the comic spirit
thrives.

Another manifestation of the comic spirit through language is the use of

metaphor by Alaka to describe himself as well as Odewale. When
accosted to reveal his identity in Odewale‟s palace upon the king‟s
insistence from his inner room, Alaka simply says”…tell him the
Farmer wants to see the Scorpion!” (Rotimi, 42) His reference to
himself as the “Farmer” and Odewale as the “Scorpion” aptly creates
an air of familiarity and conviviality as it makes reference of their
glorious and happy days as successful farmers back then at Ijekun
Yemoja. On seeing Odewale, Alaka, through the device of praise-
singing, reveals further one of Odewale‟s weaknesses which would
facilitate his tragic end-the weakness of uncontrollable temperament.
As Alaka puts it: “…Scorpion! One that must not be vexed…” (Rotimi,
43) However, Rotimi coats the supposed tragic import of this adjective
with the comic tonality of praise-singing. In reciprocation of Alaka‟s
encomiums, Odewale introduces Alaka to Ojuola as his master and
mentor that taught him everything in his father‟s house at Ijekun but
Alaka cuts in sarcastically in mild protest, thus: “ I did not teach you
hot temper though!(Rotimi, 44) Odewale flows also in the comic drift
as he admits in a subtle tonality, thus: “No.no. Sango, the thunder lion,
taught me that one…(All laugh.) (Rotimi, 44) Again, through the
device of euphemism, Alaka reitirates Odewale‟s uncontrollable
temperament which would later contribute to his tragic fall. The
laughter that is drawn from Alaka‟s reference to Odewale‟s
temperament is quite typical of laughter arising from humour.

Also, Alaka reveals the demise of Odewale‟s foster father, Ogundele, to

Odewale with an usual casualness. As he puts it “…Well, your father
has fallen. Two years ago. But your mother refuses to follow him…”
(Rotimi, 58) Even when Odewale pressurizes him further to know how
73
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

his foster father died, Alaka responds in high tones of euphemism, thus:
“ …The man became very heavy with years and so he let the earth
receive his body…” (Rotimi, 58) Rotimi‟s resort to euphemism here is
aimed at playing down on the tragic muse in the play.

The language of the deliberation between Odewale, Ojuola and the

chiefs over the place where Adetusa was killed is also comic because of
the playwright‟s use of call and response quite characteristic of the
musical staccato rhythm in a crucial moment in the plot of the play. In
their confusion over the exact location where Adetusa was killed, the
chiefs alongside Ojuola engage in a deliberation that confuses Odewale
the more:

ODEWALE: That the king was killed where?

OJUOLA: By ten thieves, near the town of Ede
SECOND CHIEF: At the place where three footpaths
meet on the way to Oshogbo
ODEWALE: At the place where three footpaths
meet?
FIRST CHIEF: Yes, my lord.
THIRD CHIEF: On the way to Ede
ODEWALE: (impatiently). Why cant you people
say one thing and stick to it?Why, is
everybody mad? Once you said the
king was killed near EdeNext
everyone talks of Oshogbo, then Ede
then Oshogbo, Ede,Oshogbo, Ede
Oshogbo-what‟s the matter?
FIRST CHIEF: The King was killed on the road to
Oshogbo,my lord, but the place was
nearer to Ede than to
Oshogbo…(Rotimi, 54)

The excerpt above portrays the height of panic and tension that has
gripped the palace such that even the chiefs that are supposed to be the
custodians of the history and tradition of the land now feign loss of
memory and when accosted by Odewale, they resort to word jugglery
and circumlocution. Whereas the discordant tonality above portrays the
height of confusion in the palace, it drives home the comic muse which
the playwright has sustained from the beginning of the play. It can also
be argued that the chiefs‟ resort to circumlocution is aimed at confusing
74
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

Odewale to the point that he would drop his hunt for the murderer of
the king and consequently, get disentangled from the tragic web that
has been designed for him from birth.

Having arrived at fetching Gbonka, the messenger alleged to have been

responsible for the execution of baby Odewale, King Odewale
summons his body guards to go fetch Gbonka from Ilorin. At first the
body guards try to shy away from the errand by claiming not to know
him:
OJUOLA: Who among you doesn‟t know Gbonka?
AGIDI: Gbonka, Gbonka?
LABATA: Gbonka who?
AKILAPA: There are countless Gbonkas all over the
world, your highness
AGIDI: Gbonka, Gbonka.
ODEWALE: …Bodyguard to the former king, you
goats!
AGIDI, LABATA, AKILAPA: (in unison). Ah! Gbon-
n-k-a-a-a!
AGIDI: Gbonka, son of Elempe.
AKILAPA: A-ah, the man left Ilorin a long time
ago.
ODEWALE: Where is he now?
LABATA: Dead.
AKILAPA: Liar! My brother Degelu, saw him on
his farm in Ipetu onlylast
Market day. (Adressing AGIDI, seeking
corroboration.) Don‟t
you know my brother, Degelu, son of my
mother‟s brother who
married Motara the sister of your wife‟s
mother, Niniola, who sells
palmwine and pounded yam at the market
near..
ODEWALE: You are wasting time! Where is Gbonka
now?
AKILAPA: Ipetu, my lord. He has a farm, a cassava
farm in…( Rotimi, 56)

Akilapa‟s sense of description here is highly verbose and comic especia

lly against the background that the king expects an urgent and swift
75
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

response from him. Again, Rotimi uses circumlocution to occasion

comic situations even when the tragic vision permeates the entire plot
of the play. Even when Odewale cuts him short so they can proceed on
their journey by asking about Gbonka‟s present location, Akilapa sees
in this question another avenue to express his sense of verbosity. First,
he responds to his master‟s question by saying “Ipetu, my lord” and
then continues with the adlib that “…he has a farm, a cassava farm…”
The comedy here lies in Akilapa‟s fondness for irrelevant details in
situations that require mono-syllabic or straight answers. Akilapa‟s drift
above also embody some form of language devaluation since he is
more interested in describing Degelu, the man who claimed to have
seen Gbonka rather than Gbonka himself.

Rotimi‟s recourse to creating comedy through language lingers into the

very last scene in the play during Odewale‟s interrogation of Gbonka.
In course of the interrogation, Odewale asks Gbonka if he can still
remember Alaka but rather than answer the question, he returns yet
another question to Odewale, thus: “(after glaring at ALAKA). Did he
say he was the man that killed King Adetusa?” (Rotimi, 66) The
question is highly incongruous and consequently, risible since it does
not have any form of bearing with the question posed to him by the
king. Gbonka also uses language to express his indifferent disposition
to the tragedy that has set in in the palace. He prefers to hug Alaka after
recalling his ordeal with him in the past rather than face the issues for
which he has been brought from Ilorin and out of impatience Odewale
separates him and Alaka from the embrace and accosts him, thus:
ODEWALE: This man said you handed him a baby boy in
the bush of Ipetu
GBONKA: Hunh?
ALAKA: Old one, have you forgotten? You gave my
master a baby boywhen we met at Ipetu
bush
GBONKA: If it was so, it was so…(Rotimi, 67)

Gbonka‟s response above is more of begging the question. It is absurd

and comic since it does not advance the course that Odewale seeks. It
becomes more comic when viewed against the background that
Odewale, the King is in a desperate mood to get to the very root of his
quest for his true identity and consequently, the murderer of the former
king. The incongruity therefore arises as a result of the variation in
Odewale‟s mood of inquisitiveness to discover the murderer of the king
76
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

and Gbonka‟s reluctance and frivolities of recalling his long lost

memories in the palace.

(iii) Comedy Arising from Characterization: Characterization is

yet another device through which Rotimi drives the machinery
of the comic spirit in The Gods Are Not Blame. The characters
that embody the comic in the play include; Alaka, Gbonka,
Akilapa, Labata, Iya Aburo and Agidi .

Alaka stands out as the iconic representation of the spirit of comedy in

the play. From his entrance to the very last scene, Alaka sustains the
comic tempo in the play through his hilarious and easy-going
dispositions. Upon his arrival at the palace, Ojuola serves him palm
wine which he drinks and then smacks his lips with relish before
affirming that he is indeed, in the house of an Ijekun man. Out of
excitement and satisfaction from the palmwine, he begins to unravel his
relationship with Odewale to Ojuola unasked and in the process of his
narration, he asks for more wine in a sarcastic manner, thus: “…Good
woman the calabash is empty…” (Rotimi, 42) His comic charm springs
mainly from his gift of elocution and his sense of trivializing every
issue including the ones that determines Odewale‟s fate and destiny.
After dropping the hint that Ogundele and his wife are not Odewale‟s
biological parents, Odewale gets panicked and jittery over his true
identity but rather than face the issue squarely as expected of an elder,
Alaka makes to shy away from the subject by feigning to be pressed. In
anger, Odewale intercepts his intended exit and pulls him back to his
seat. In submission, he reminds Odewale, thus; “…I am glad to see that
your youthful, hot temper is still with you, my brother. Scorpion! One
that must not be...(Rotimi, 61) Here his comic gab fail him because he
fired a wrong shot ab initio by revealing to Odewale in public that
Ogundele and Mobike are not his biological parents. This is contrary to
Odewale‟s long held views about his paternity.

The characterization of the palace Guards (Akilapa, Labata and Agidi)

also contribute to the comic tempo of the play. In Act Two Scene Four,
Akilapa scares his master, Odewale, as he bursts into the palace with a
spear in his hand quite suggestive of his readiness for war but when
accosted, he responds subtly, thus: “The Queen. She says your highness
calls me” (Rotimi, 40). Here Akilapa exaggerates his response to the
King‟s summon by bursting in with a spear in his hand as if he is in the
battle front. Akilapa‟s farcical mannerisms and gestures here produce
77
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

high comic results. In a similar vein, he wallows in verbosity and

ambiguity in an attempt to prove to the King that Gbonka is still alive
against the false claim by Labata that Gbonka is dead. He is a loud-
mouthed fellow who cannot keep to agreements with his fellow palace
guards. He uncovers Agidi and Labata‟s false claim that Gbonka is
dead because they do not want to go in search of Gbonka in such a far
away land like Ilorin. Akilapa thwarts their plan by declaring them liars
before King Odewale and Queen Ojuola and goes further to prove that
Gbonka still lives, thus: “…My brother Degelu saw him on his farm in
Ipetu only last market day…” (Rotimi, 56) Akilapa‟s testimony above
is highly comic since it sets out to justify his initial claim that Labata is
a liar. It is also puerile and, therefore, laughable for palace guards to
outwit and undo themselves before their master for purposes of
sycophancy.

The psychopathic disposition of Iya Aburo also reinforces the comic

drift in the play. While we feel pity for Iya Aburo for being subjected to
some form psychological trauma over the loss of her husband due to
the plague, drought and famine, her mannerisms, gestures and language
are incongruous and surrealistic. Rotimi describes her actions in the
palace, thus:

…(…IYA ABURO, on the ground fumbling with her baby

undecided to saddle it on her back, or simply drop it.
Somehow, she manages to strap the baby to her side, and
starts crossing the stage,a lullaby… (Rotimi,15)

The description above aptly captures Iya Aburo‟s state of dementia as

well as elicits laughter from the audience/readers because of the
mechanical rigidity with which she behaves and reacts to situations.
After some moments of incoherent communication with Odewale and
the Chiefs, she engages in yet a more absurd and mechanical action
whereby she “…releases baby from her side, carries it upside down,
and begins to back away, resuming her lullaby…(Rotimi, 16). Typical
of insane personalities, Iya Aburo vacillates between the conscious and
the unconscious in her rationality. She hallucinates about her late
husband as though he were present in the palace and out of pity,
Odewale beckons on Labata to relieve her of her baby and when Labata
approaches her, she absorbs Labata‟s movement towards her in her
consciousness and reacts, thus:

78
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

…You come too late, my husband…we have just

finished eating yams in the king‟s small small
bathroom…(Sniggers coyly)
…Oh, you want the child? (She readily lets
LABATA take it)
I beg of you, carry her well, do not hurt her
fingers…she must live
…to eat yams in small small
bathrooms…(Rotiimi, 16)

Iya Aburo‟s reaction above embodies some form of mirth because of

the incongruity of merging the rational and irrational in one trail of
thought. Her plea to Labata that her daughter be properly taken care of
is quite pathetic but the pathetic feeling is diluted with laughter when
she says that her baby “… must live to eat yams in small small
bathrooms…” (16) The above scenario, again stands out as one of the
many instances where Rotimi introduces comic relief in order to dowse
the intended tragic intensity in the play.

Our study so far, reveals that Rotimi‟s The Gods Are Not to Blame is a
sincere reflection of the distinctive and yet complimentary relationship
that has always existed between tragedy and comedy. Our argument in
this paper is that, just as life is a mixture of sorrow and happiness, so is
tragedy another face of the same coin with comedy and as such, it
becomes limiting, if not misleading to invoke such extreme expressions
as “pure tragedy” or “archetypal tragedy” when analyzing Rotimi‟s The
Gods Are Not to Blame. It is also pertinent to state here that this study
is not, in any way, intended to challenge or debunk the preponderance
of the tragic muse, tonality and thematic thrust in the play especially
because The Gods Are Not To Blame is an adaptation of Sophocles‟
Oedipus Rex (Oedipus The King), an age long classical Greek myth of
the tragedy of King Oedipus who fell to the whims and caprices of fate
and destiny to kill his father and marry his mother.

In terms of content , Rotimi appears to be faithful to his source as he

replicates the same story of a king (Oedipus/Odewale) who, in a bid to
run away from his tragic destiny, runs faster and closer to it until he
faces tragic destruction. In terms of language, he uses both poetic and
prosaic registers all expressed in verse and prose forms unlike
Sophocles who wrote straight in sublime language and verse form
characteristic of classical Greek tragedy. Unlike Sophocles also, Rotimi
79
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

demonstrates his knack for the craft of comedy through the infusion of
comic characters with peculiar comic traits. The deduction here is that
all the comic elements deployed by Rotimi in the play are products of
his innovation and creative ingenuity in course of the adaptation and
not a hang over of Sophocles‟ craft in Oedipus Rex.

Conclusion
The propelling motivation for this study is to shock reviewers, analysts
and critics of the drama out of the rigidity of genre classification
especially as it concerns tragedy and comedy. The study has established
The Gods Are No to Blame as an example of a classical tragedy but
laced with some comic tonic in the areas of language, plot and
characterization. The variation manifest more in comic forms in order
to occasion comic relief just as we find in the tragedies of William
Shakespeare. The study therefore, locates Rotimi‟s craft in The Gods
Are Not To Blame within the confines of eclecticism having woven the
play around the classical doctrine of the tragic hero being of noble
birth, the romantic doctrine of freedom of creative expression as
evident in the infusion of comic relief in a supposed tragic piece and
the use of every day language and characters of low status to drive
home the comic spirit in the play.

The paper canvasses the need for Nigerian playwrights to allow their
creative inspiration to determine the generic thrust of their plays rather
than allow themselves to be overwhelmed by the rules of playwriting
when crafting their works. It is the position of this study that over
reliance on the rules of dramaturgy truncates the creative process.
Playwriting is product of creativity and creativity, in turn, is a product
of inspiration. Just as we find in Rotimi‟s craft in The Gods Are Not to
Blame, writers are encouraged to embrace the mixed form since it
creates the avenue for comparison and contrast and consequently,
suspense in the drama.

The study also advocates the need for theatre critics, analysts,
researchers, historians and stakeholders to channel or intensify their
research interest in the area of comedy with the sole aim of identifying
and categorizing the core sources and elements of laughter in Nigeria.
Bamidele has expressed this concern earlier in his book titled Comedy:
Essays and Studies when he states that:

80
 A Journal of Theatre & Media Studies
Vol. 1. No. 2, April, 2016

Moses Olaiya and his many imitators have left the

Nigerian scholars with a task of investigating the
Nigerian laugh…Is it through incongruity as Baba
Sala has often indulged in? Is it through mechanical
encrustation on the living as many comedians want
us to believe in their creation of the drunkard, the
mad man, the childish clowning on the stage? Is it
throug the sense of superiority of the artist over lesser
beings in upholding manners and abnormal
behaviours to ridicule as we find in the humour in
Femi Osofisan‟s Midnight Series? Or is it through the
aesthetics of the bawdy which makes us think that the
pollutic scenes and the invectives on Nigerian stage
are the stuff of which comedies are made? Is it
through the literature of gossips which present acts of
of the busy-bodies and only then will Nigerians
laugh? ... (58)

Works Cited
Altshuler, Thelma and Janaro,Richard Paul. Response to Drama: An
Introduction to Plays and Movies. Boston: Houghton Mifflin
Company, 1967.
Bamidele, Lanre, O. Comedy: Essays and Studies. Ibadan: Stirling-
Horden Publishers, 2009.
Esslin, Martins. An Anatomy of Drama. London: Temple Smith, 1976.
Freud, Sigmund. Jokes and Their Relationship to the Unconscious.
Trans. And ed. James Strachey. London: Rutledge & Kegan
Paul, 1966.
Frye Northrop. Anatomy of Criticism. New York: Antheneum, 1966.
Grawe, Paul. H. Comedy in Space, Time, and the Imagination.
Chicago: Nelson-Hall, 1983.
Merchant, W. Moelwyn. Comedy. London: Methuen, 1972.
Pickering, Jerry. Theatre: A Contemporary Introduction. New York:
West Publishing Company, 1981.
Rotimi, Ola. The Gods Are Not Blame. Oxford: University Press, 1975.
Seyler, Athene and Haggard, Stephen. The Craft of Comedy. New York:
Theatre Arts Books, 1957.
Wright, Edward. Understanding Today‟s Theatre. New Jersey: Prentice
Hall, Englecliff, 1972.

81