"Mimesis" According To Aristotle: Ateneo Pontificio Regina Apostolorum Facoltà Di Filosofia

ATENEO PONTIFICIO REGINA APOSTOLORUM
Facoltà di Filosofia
“Mimesis” According to Aristotle
Direttore: Alain Contat
Studente: Eric Wandrey, L.C.
FE2001 Dissertazione per la licenza in filosofia
Numero di matricola: 7336
Roma, 30 aprile 2013

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TABLE OF CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION…………………………………………....................... 6
I. AN INITIAL LOOK AT MIMESIS……………….…………. 7

A. ART ACCORDING TO ARISTOTLE…………………… 7
B. THE MIMETIC ARTS……………………………………. 9
C. DISTINCTIONS ABOUT MIMESIS…………………….. 10
D. MIMESIS AND MAN‟S RATIONAL NATURE..………. 12
II. THE DUALITY OF MIMESIS………………………………. 13

A. THE “DUAL ASPECT” FUNCTION……………............. 13
B. THE DUALITY OF MIMETIC PLEASURE……………. 13
III. THE UNITY OF MIMESIS………………………………….. 17

A. WHOLENESS…………………………………………… 17
B. APPROPRIATE SIZE…………………………………… 18
C. UNITARY OBJECT OF ACTION………………………. 19
D. THE INCREASED INTELLIGIBILITY OF MIMESIS… 20
IV. THE QUASI-PHILOSOPHICAL STATUS OF MIMESIS…. 22
V. THE SEMI-AUTONOMOUS STATUS OF MIMESIS……... 33

A. THE EXEMPTION OF MIMESIS FROM COMPLETE
TECHNICAL ACCURACY…………………………….. 33
B. ANOTHER DUAL ASPECT OF MIMESIS…………….. 36
VI. AN OVERVIEW OF ARISTOTELIAN MIMESIS…………. 39

A. SYNTHESIS……………………………………………… 39
B. A POSSIBLE DEFINITION……………………………... 40
VII. THE “POLARITY” OF MIMESIS…………………………… 43

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VIII. ARISTOTLE‟S POETICS AND THE ART OF NICOLAS

POUSSIN……………………………………………………... 45
A. THE QUASI-PHILOSOPHICAL QUALITY OF POUSSIN‟S
ARTWORK: INTELLECTUAL DELIGHT……………. 46
B. THE SEMI-AUTONOMOUS STATUS OF POUSSIN‟S
ARTWORK AND ITS BALANCE BETWEEN
VERISIMILITUDE AND MARVEL…………………… 47
C. POUSSIN‟S PAINTINGS AS PICTORIAL
POETRY…………………………………………...……. 48
CONCLUSION…………………………………………………………. 56
BIBLIOGRAPHY………………………………………………………. 58
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INTRODUCTION
At the beginning of The Poetics, Aristotle states that it is his aim «to discuss
the art of poetry in general»1, and further on, he speaks of poetry as one of the
«kinds of mimesis»2.
What he means exactly by “mimesis” is not clear. Nowhere in his Poetics

does Aristotle give a concise definition of the word despite the fact that he uses
the term again and again. In the first seven chapters of this paper, my goal is to
review comments made by Aristotle on mimesis and, with the help of secondary
sources, come to a better understanding of the term. In the last chapter, I will
depart from considering the term itself in order to consider a particular example of
the influence of Aristotelian theory in painting.
In chapters I – V, I will consider some of Aristotle‟s comments on mimesis

that are found in The Poetics and other sources. My considerations will rely
heavily upon the work of commentator Stephen Halliwell.
Most of Aristotle‟s comments on mimesis are in reference to poetic

mimesis. In Chapter VI, I will attempt to synthesize the principles contained in
these comments, and consider their applicability to other mimetic art forms. In
this same chapter, I will also explore a possible definition of mimesis that is
proposed by Paul Woodruff.
In Chapter VII, I will offer a personal interpretation of Halliwell‟s “dual-

aspect function” of mimesis in the light of Romano Guardini‟s concept of
“polarity”. In Chapter VIII, I will consider the influence of Aristotelian mimetic
art theory on the artwork of Nicolas Poussin.
1
ARISTOTLE, The Poetics; English translation, S. HALLIWELL, Duckworth The Poetics
of Aristotle: Translation and Commentary, Gerald and Co. Ltd., London, 1987, 31.
2
Cf. Ibid.
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AN INITIAL LOOK AT MIMESIS
A. Art According to Aristotle
Aristotle describes man‟s soul as uniquely rational3 and identifies three

modes of activity that proceed from his rationality and that are thus uniquely
human: investigation (theoria), action (praxis), and production (poiesis). Each of
these modes corresponds to a particular mode of rational knowledge: investigation
is linked to scientific knowledge, action to practical wisdom or “prudence”, and
production to art.
In Nichomachean Ethics, he gives a definition of each type of knowledge.

Scientific knowledge is «a state of capacity to demonstrate» and its object is
«necessity»4. In other words, scientific knowledge is knowledge of necessary
realities, obtained by means of demonstration, proceeding from known premises
to previously unknown conclusions. It is the knowledge by which we know what
and how things are; it is the knowledge by which we come to know essences of
things and their accidental determinations. It is certain knowledge of universal and
necessary truth.
Once we know what and how things are, our actions can be guided
accordingly. This is the realm of practical wisdom which is «a true and reasoned
state of capacity to act with regard to the things that are good or bad for man»5.
Practical wisdom could also be called “prudence”. It regulates the actions that are
immanent to the subject agent, i.e. actions whose effects are primarily in the
subject6. By prudence, man guides his actions in seeking the good.
3
Cf. ARISTOTLE, Ethica Nicomachea, 1102a5–30; English translation in The Basic
Works of Aristotle, Random House, New York, 1941.
4
Cf. Ibid., 1139b22–34.
5
Ibid., 1140b4 – 6.
6
Cf. L. PRIETO, El hombre y el animal, Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Madrid,
2008, 38.
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Art (techne) is «a reasoned state of capacity to make»7, and could be

considered as a second, more specific type of practical knowledge. It guides
human activity in the area of producing. Because it is deals with production, with
making, and not with acting, it is different from practical wisdom/prudence8.
Aristotle makes it clear how art is different from scientific knowledge:
All art is concerned with coming into being, i.e. with contriving and considering
how something may come into being which is capable of either being or not being,
and whose origin is in the maker and not in the thing made; for art is concerned
neither with things that are, or come into being, by necessity, nor with things that
do so according to nature (since these have their origin in themselves)9.
Scientific knowledge deals with things that are or come to be by necessity.

Art deals with more contingent reality. It deals with human production, which
does not exist necessarily but is entirely dependent upon the producer.
All of Aristotle‟s writings can be classified according to each mode of

human activity and its corresponding field of knowledge. Aristotle wrote 37
works that deal with theoria, among which are Metaphysics, Physics, On the Soul,
On Generation and Corruption, Prior Analytics, and Posterior Analytics. His
writings that are concerned with praxis are six in total, including Nichomachean
Ethics, Eudemian Ethics, and Politics. His writings on poiesis are Rhetoric,
Rhetoric to Alexander, and The Poetics.
In his works on theoria and praxis, Aristotle develops a profound general

theory in addition to writing more specialized treatments of particular topics. But
in comparison to the works that deal with scientific and practical knowledge, his
books on art are not only less in number, but also less theoretical. The two
Rhetorics and The Poetics are specialized considerations of art concerned with the
types of poiesis indicated by the titles. They both assume a fundamental theory of
art, but there is no surviving work in which Aristotle articulates this theory. This
lack of theoretical articulation can explain the dearth of poetical commentary in
the Middle Ages following the rediscovery of Aristotle in the West.
7
ARISTOTLE, Ethica Nicomachea, 1140a8.
8
Ibid., 1140b4.
9
Ibid., 1140a11-15.
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“Art” in Aristotelian philosophy «can roughly be defined as a productive

skill or activity, which matches rational and knowledgeable means to the
achievement of predetermined ends»10. Art, like nature, is the acting towards a
specific end. Arts can either complement nature or imitate nature11. Medicine is an
example of an art that complements nature. It intervenes in the natural processes
of the body in order to assist nature in bringing about the end of health. The
mimetic arts are those that imitate nature12.
In The Poetics, Aristotle deals with mimetic arts, particularly that of poetry.
B. The Mimetic Arts
In the first chapter of The Poetics, Aristotle identifies arts that are «kinds of
mimesis»: painting, sculpture, poetry, dance and music13. These arts differ from
each other according to the media that they employ in their respective productions
of mimemata 14.
Throughout the rest of The Poetics, Aristotle speaks mainly about poetry,
which is the kind of mimesis that uses the media of language, rhythm, and
melody. He mentions a few types of poetry, but he is primarily concerned with
tragedy and comedy. Only the part on tragedy is extant. Comedy and tragedy are
distinguished from each other by their objects: tragedy tends to present men as
better than they actually are, while comedy tends to present them as worse15.
Even though The Poetics is concerned mainly with poetry, the fact that he
makes a list of other mimetic arts indicates that Aristotle possessed some type of
10
S. HALLIWELL, The Poetics of Aristotle: Translation and Commentary, Gerald
Duckworth and Co. Ltd., London, 1987, 70.
11
Cf. ARISTOTLE, Physica, 199a15-17; English translation in The Basic Works of
Aristotle, Random House, New York, 1941.
12
The mimetic arts have come to be described as “fine arts.” Cf. W. TATARKIEWICZ,
History of Aesthetics. I. Ancient Aesthetics, Thoemmes Press, Bristol, 1999, 142.
13
Cf. ARISTOTLE, The Poetics…, 31.
14
Cf. Ibid., 31 – 32. Painting and sculpture produce mimetic images through the media
of colors and shapes. The “arts of pipe and lyre” (i.e. music) use the media of melody and
rhythm. Dance uses rhythm alone. Poetry uses the media of language, melody, and
rhythm. (Aristotle also mentions another vocal art, by which he may have been referring
to acting, but this is unclear.)
15
Cf. Ibid., 32 – 33.
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theory by which he is able to designate some arts as mimetic rather than others.
As Stephen Halliwell points out, the existence of this theory of mimetic arts «will
be confirmed by his references to painting later in the treatise (chapters 2, 4, 6, 15,
25), as well as by the general principles such as the canon of unity formulated at
the end of chapter 8»16.
C. Distinctions about Mimesis
We can find an important aspect of the Aristotelian understanding of

mimesis from the distinction that Aristotle makes between Homer and
Empedocles17. Empedocles‟ writings, like Homer‟s, are in verse, but this is not
enough to make them poetry. Empedocles‟ writings are natural philosophy and
intend to offer scientific propositions and affirm specific aspects of reality.
Aristotle says that mimetic discourse is only representational, not affirmative as
are the writings of Empedocles18, and he thus implies the fictional status of poetic
mimesis, and, by extension, all other forms of mimesis. The concern of mimesis is
with «images, representations, simulations or enactments of human life, rather
than with direct claims or argument about reality»19.
On the other hand, while there are representational and fictional aspects to
Aristotle‟s concept of poetic mimesis, he never claims that it is entirely
identifiable with either representation or fiction. Before continuing our
consideration of mimesis, I would like to employ the help of both Paul Woodruff
and Stephen Halliwell who make useful distinctions about mimesis20.
Mimesis is not imitation. In modern English, imitation implies the existence

of something real that is imitated. As Woodruff points out, «we speak of imitation
flowers and fake flamingos, but not of imitation goblins or fake fairies, because
there are no goblins or fairies»21. Mimesis, however, can take as its object, things
16
S. HALLIWELL, The Poetics of Aristotle…, 70.
17
Cf. ARISTOTLE, The Poetics …, 31 – 32.
18
Cf. S. HALLIWELL, The Poetics of Aristotle…, 71.
19
Ibid., 72.
20
Cf. P. WOODRUFF, «Aristotle on Mimesis», in A. OKSENBERG RORTY (ed.), Essays
on Aristotle’s Poetics, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1992, 81, 89 - 91.
21
Ibid., 81.
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which are not real; it can take fiction as its object. For example, Sophocles‟
tragedy Oedipus the King has as its object the action of Oedipus, who is an
entirely fictional character.
Subsequently, we know that mimesis is not fiction, since mimesis takes

fiction as its object, and it cannot be the object of itself. Mimesis adds something
to fiction. What exactly it adds, we shall see later.
Mimesis is not reproduction. Woodruff gives the example of reproducing a

bridle. When a bridle-maker makes a bridle based on another bridle, the bridle that
is produced is just as much a bridle as the model bridle. It is not just an “imitation
bridle”. But such is not the case with mimetic works. For example, a portrait is not
just as much a person as the subject of the portrait.
Stephen Halliwell suggests that “representation” is the English word that

comes closest to translating mimesis:
I usually favour the translation “representation” (or alternatively “portrayal”),

because the English usage of this word (and cognate forms) comes closest to the
range of meanings covered by the mimesis word-group in Greek. Thus a picture
can represent a subject, an actor can represent a character, a play represent an
action, event or story (“imitate” has none of these senses in modern English), and
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in each of these cases Greek can similarly use the mimesis family of words .
Mimesis is a type of representation, but not every representation is mimesis.

For example, symbols are representations but are not mimetic. Besides the fact
that they represent, symbols have little in common with the mimetic arts
mentioned by Aristotle. The cross is a symbol that represents Christianity, but it is
not a mimesis of Christianity. It is not painting, sculpture, poetry, dance nor
music, which are the mimetic arts established by Aristotle.
While mimesis has something to do with representation and fiction, it is not

identifiable with either, nor is it identifiable with imitation or reproduction.
Through the following examination of what Aristotle has to say about poetic
mimesis in The Poetics, we will seek to come to a better idea of what he meant by
mimesis in general.
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D. Mimesis and Man’s Rational Nature
Aristotle indicates two causes of poetry, which, by extension, are the causes
of mimesis in general. The first cause is man‟s universal instinct to engage in
mimetic activity (exhibited in the tendency of children to make-believe). The
second cause is man‟s tendency to take pleasure in the products of mimesis23.
Both of these causes are rooted in man‟s rational nature. As a rational animal, man
has a need for, and takes pleasure in, the processes of learning and
understanding24. Mimesis provides the opportunity for a process of learning and
understanding. By engaging in mimetic activity (i.e. in making fictional
representations of reality) and by contemplating mimetic products, man comes to
a better understanding of reality25, and takes pleasure in doing so.
Poetry is the mimesis of a specific part of reality, that of human action. As

Halliwell puts it, «poetry is seen as deriving from, and satisfying, the impulse to
understand the world of human action by making and enjoying representations of
it»26.
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25
How exactly man comes to a better understanding of reality through mimesis will be
discussed further on in our consideration of the quasi-philosophical nature of poetry.
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II
THE DUALITY OF MIMESIS
A. The “Dual-Aspect” Function
As we begin our exploration of the meaning of mimesis, I would like to

point out an important aspect that will be a helpful reference point in our inquiry.
In his book The Aesthetics of Mimesis: Ancient Texts and Modern Problems,
Stephen Halliwell suggests that what is central to mimesis is its “dual-aspect
function”, which he describes as the following:
[It is] a way of holding together the “worldlike” properties of artistic representation
– its depictions, as he [Aristotle] puts it (Poetics 9.1451a37), of things which could
be the case – with its production of objects that possess a distinctive though not
wholly autonomous, rationale of their own27.
He is referring to a dynamic that is inherent to mimetic art. Mimetic art is

both a representation of actual reality and an artificial creation. As a
representation, it is linked to and dependent upon actual reality. But as an artificial
creation, it is partially autonomous from actual reality. We shall see this dynamic
tension re-surface in different ways as we continue our study of Aristotle‟s
consideration of mimesis in The Poetics.
B. The Duality of Mimetic Pleasure
The pleasure that man takes in mimesis is a complex issue from which we
can gain insight into the nature of mimesis itself. It comes from man‟s cognition
of the representational significance of the mimetic work and the simultaneous
psychological (often emotional) experience that comes with it.
In his own words in Chapter 4 of The Poetics, Aristotle makes very clear the
link between cognition and pleasure in the contemplation of a mimetic work:
27
S. HALLIWELL, The Aesthetics of Mimesis: Ancient Texts and Modern Problems,
Princeton University Press, Princeton, 2002, 152.
14
Here too the explanation lies in the fact that great pleasure is derived from
exercising the understanding, not just for philosophers but in the same way for all
men, though their capacity for it may be limited. It is for this reason that men enjoy
looking at images, because what happens is that, as they contemplate them, they
apply their understanding and reasoning to each element (identifying this as an
image of such-and-such a man, for instance)28.
What Aristotle is saying here is that man delights in mimetic works because
he exercises his reason and understanding in recognizing what the product is
representing. Pleasure is derived from identifying the representational significance
of the mimesis.
However, this pleasure of recognition of representational significance is not

the only type of pleasure that can be gained from mimesis. Aristotle also
acknowledges the possibility of finding pleasure in the artistic medium itself,
separate from the recognition of the object of the artistic representation:
Since, if it happens that one has no previous familiarity with the sight, then the
object will not give pleasure qua mimetic object but because of its craftsmanship,
or colour, or for some other such reason29.
Thus, Aristotle introduces a basic dichotomy of mimetic pleasure which has

to do with the already mentioned “dual-aspect” of mimesis. A work of mimetic art
is a representation of actual reality, but it is also an artificial creation. As in other
aspects of mimesis, this duality manifests itself in mimetic pleasure. Pleasure can
be gained both from the recognition of the representation of an actual reality and
from the appreciation of the technique of the artificial production.
It is the artificial nature of the mimetic product that makes it possible to take
pleasure in it when that which is represented is something painful: «for we take
pleasure in contemplating the most precise images of things whose sight in itself
causes us pain – such as the appearance of basest animals, or of corpses»30. We
can take pleasure in the representation of something painful because we are
simultaneously aware that it is not real. We do not take pleasure in the painful
thing itself, but rather in the understanding of the representation, which happens to
28
29
Ibid.
30
Ibid.
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be of something painful. Aristotle repeats and confirms this point in Book 1,

Chapter 11 of Rhetoric:
Again, since learning and wondering are pleasant, it follows that such things as acts
of imitation must be pleasant -- for instance, painting, sculpture, poetry -- and
every product of skillful imitation; this latter, even if the object imitated is not itself
pleasant; for it is not the object itself which here gives delight; the spectator draws
inferences (“That is a so-and-so”) and thus learns something fresh31.
However, Aristotle makes a point in Book 8, Chapter 5 of Politics that could

seem to be contrary to the above-cited quote from the Rhetoric.
The habit of feeling pleasure or pain at mere representations is not far removed
from the same feeling about realities; for example, if anyone delights in the sight of
a statue for its beauty only, it necessarily follows that the sight of the original will
be pleasant for him32.
Here Aristotle is saying that it is possible to take pleasure in the beautiful

features of a represented reality as such, responding to it as we would to the actual
reality that it represents. The other side of this same point is that we can likewise
feel pain before the depiction of painful things, as we would towards
correspondingly painful things in reality.
Halliwell explains well the problem presented by the two quotes:
How then are we to combine what looks as though they may be two distinct and
possibly incompatible ideas: the first, that the full cognitive experience of mimetic
work encompasses, and is modified by, the fact that the object is not real but a
product of artistic construction; the second, that responses to mimetic works are in
general closely aligned with those toward equivalent realities in the world?33
In other words, how do we reconcile the fact that on one hand, we respond
to mimetic works as non-real, but on the other hand, we still respond to them as if
they were real?
The problem can be solved, not by oversimplifying our response to mimesis,

but by understanding it as a compound reaction. The texts cited above from
31
ARISTOTLE, Rhetorica, 1371b4-10; English translation in The Basic Works of
32
ARISTOTLE, Politica, 1340a20-30; English translation in The Basic Works of
33
S. HALLIWELL, The Aesthetics of Mimesis…, 184.
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Poetics 4, Rhetoric 1.11, and Politics 8.5 are not mutually exclusive34. Rather,
they combine to give a double view of response to mimesis that involves both
grasping the representational significance of the mimetic work, while realizing
that it is artificial (cf. Poetics 4 and Rhetoric 1.11), and at the same time
responding to the representational significance as we would to an equivalent
actual reality (cf. Politics 8.5). Both reactions can happen at the same time.
The response that Aristotle speaks about in Politics 8.5 does not preclude
the response spoken of in Poetics 4 and Rhetoric 1.11. When we grasp the
representational significance, we are drawing on our previous experiences which
give us familiarity with the subject represented. We can react to the representation
as we would to a comparable, actually existing reality, even experiencing pain if
what is represented is a painful reality. But simultaneously we can have pleasure
because the whole experience is allowing us to grow in our understanding by
allowing us to experience something as if it were actually real. Thus, we can come
to know that which is represented in a way that approximates the knowledge we
would have of the thing if we experienced it in real life.
34
Cf. S. HALLIWELL, The Aesthetics of Mimesis…, 184.
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III
THE UNITY OF MIMESIS
In his definition of tragedy in Chapter 6, Aristotle establishes that a tragedy

is «a representation of an action which is serious, complete and of a certain
magnitude»35. A little further on, he establishes that the plot-structure is the most
important of the six elements of tragedy, because it is the part that is most
properly the representation of action. In chapters 7 and 8, he sets about prescribing
«the form which the structure of events ought to take»36. In discussing the «the
form which the structure of events ought to take», Aristotle is establishing the
criteria for the unity of the plot structure.
Unity, for Aristotle, is closely linked to beauty. As he says later in the

chapter, a thing is beautiful when it possesses «ordered arrangement» and
«appropriate scale (for beauty is grounded in both size and order)»37. These two
conditions can be present if there is unity. The link between unity and “ordered
arrangement” is clear because the former necessarily implies the latter. The link
between unity and “appropriate scale” has to do with the audience. If the work is
not of an appropriate size, it cannot be perceived as a unified whole by the
audience.
Aristotle lays out three criteria for a unified and beautiful plot structure:
wholeness, appropriate size and a unitary object. (Wholeness and a unitary object
are both sub-divisions of “ordered arrangement”.)
A. Wholeness
Regarding the wholeness of the plot, he says the following:
35
ARISTOTLE, The Poetics…, 37.
36
Ibid., 39.
37
Cf. Ibid.
18
By “whole” I mean possessing a beginning, middle and end. By “beginning” I

mean that which does not have a necessary connection with a preceding event, but
which can itself give rise naturally to some further fact or occurrence. An “end”, by
contrast, is something which naturally occurs after a preceding event, whether by
necessity or as a general rule, but need not be followed by anything else. The
“middle” involves causal connections with both what precedes and what ensues.
Consequently, well designed plot-structures ought not to begin or finish at arbitrary
points, but to follow the principles indicated38.
Later on, in Chapter 8, he makes an important point about how these parts
ought to relate with each other: «its parts, consisting of the events, should be so
constructed that the displacement or removal of any one of them will disturb and
disjoint the work‟s wholeness»39.
Thus, by saying the plot must be whole, he is calling for a sequence of

actions that are causally connected: the end must follow from the middle and the
middle must follow from the beginning. And they must be so connected that not
one of the actions can be removed without disrupting the storyline.
Moreover, the sequence of actions must be «a probable or necessary

succession of events»40. By this phrase he means that when one event follows
another, it should not be a random, arbitrary sequence. Event B should be the type
of event that would probably or necessarily follow event A. “Probably” means
that events like event B follow events like event A for the most part.
“Necessarily” means that events like event B always follow events like event A.
B. Appropriate Size
The next principle that he considers is that of “appropriate size”. A thing

cannot be beautiful if too small or too large. When it is too small, the «perception
of it is practically instantaneous and so cannot be experienced». When it is too
large, the «contemplation of it cannot be a single experience, and it is not possible
to derive a sense of unity and wholeness from our perception of it»41. Likewise, a
plot structure is beautiful only when we can derive «a sense of unity and
38
39
Ibid., 40.
40
Ibid., 39.
41
Ibid.
19
wholeness from our perception of it». Such a perception requires that it have a
«length which can be easily held in memory»42.
Halliwell specifies that for Aristotle, the perception of beauty «depends […]
on the comprehension of the purpose or function which gives significance to a
creature‟s form – which sees an end or telos in the form»43. Likewise, with a plot-
structure, its beauty depends upon being able to see its telos, which is the chain of
events that it dramatizes. This means that it should be of such a size that enables
us to easily see and understand the chain of events44.
Continuing his thoughts on the proper size of a plot-structure, Aristotle says

the following:
The limit which accords with the true nature of the matter is this: beauty of size
favours as large a structure as possible, provided that coherence is maintained. A
concise definition [of the proper limit] is to say that the sufficient limit of a poem‟s
scale is the scope required for a probable or necessary succession of events which
produce a transformation either from affliction to prosperity, or the reverse45.
To illustrate that appropriate size is crucial to beauty, Aristotle gives the

example of an animal that is a thousand miles long. It would be impossible to
perceive the unity and wholeness of such an animal, and thus it would not be
beautiful46. Similarly, a six-day long drama would be ridiculously large. Despite
the obvious practical difficulties of producing such a play, there would be so
much information and so many events, that it would be impossible to easily grasp
and appreciate the entire story. It would be an unbeautiful work of art because it
would not have a length which «can be easily held in memory».
C. Unitary Object of Action
The final element of a beautiful plot structure is that of having a unitary

object of action.
42
43
44
Cf. Ibid.
45
46
Cf. Ibid., 39.
20
A plot structure does not possess unity (as some believe) by virtue of centring on
an individual. For just as a particular thing may have many random properties,
some of which do not combine to make a single entity, so a particular character
may perform many actions which do not yield a single “action” .
47
Aristotle gives the example of poets who wrote Heracleids:
They believe that because Heracles was a single individual, a plot-structure about
him ought to have unity. As in other respects, Homer is exceptional by the fineness
of his insight into this point […] although composing an Odyssey, he did not
include everything that happened to the hero […] Instead, he constructed the
Odyssey around a single action of the kind I mean, and likewise with the Iliad48.
If the plot structure is just a conglomeration of episodes, it will not be

beautiful. All of the events of the plot must come together to comprise a single,
unified action. In the case of the Odyssey, this single action is Odysseus‟ struggle
to return home.
D. The Increased Intelligibility of Mimesis
We have considered the three criteria for unity and beauty in poetic
mimesis: wholeness, appropriate size, and a unitary object.
Mimetic unity is crucial to understanding mimesis in general. It is unity that

is the source of a higher level of intelligibility. Ordinary life often does not present
us with things that are whole, well-sized and unified. It is the job of the mimetic
artist to take the raw material of life and give it this order. In so doing, he makes
something that is more intelligible and easier to understand than ordinary life.
As Halliwell puts it,
Poetry must somehow make more sense than much of the raw material of life does,
and this higher intelligibility is part and parcel of what Ar. understands by unity
[…] Successfully unified works of art therefore, on Ar.‟s premises, allow us to
experience images of a fictional reality (“events which could occur”, ch. 9) which
has a more lucid or transparent significance than what we readily find in the world
around us49.
47
48
Ibid.
49
21
To illustrate this point, let us consider again the example of the Odyssey.
Odysseus‟ life from his departure from Troy until his arrival at Ithaca would have
been a huge period of time full of many details, some more significant than others.
Homer sifts through all of those possible details and chooses only those that are
relevant to an overarching action, which is the unitary object of his poem:
Odysseus‟ struggle to return home. He does not recount every meal that Odysseus
ate or every stop that he made along the way.
In doing this, he provides us with a product that is based upon, yet is more
intelligible than, the entire life of Odysseus from Troy to Ithaca. If we were to
look at a day-by-day account of Odysseus‟ journey, we would be overwhelmed
with information and irrelevant details. Homer takes details from the journey and
makes into a unified mimesis, one that enables us to better understand the
struggles and difficulties of Odysseus.
The unity of mimesis enables us to experience a reality that is similar to, but
more meaningful than, actual reality. The increased intelligibility of mimesis is
the source of its quasi-philosophical nature, which will be considered in the next
chapter.
22
IV
THE QUASI-PHILOSOPHICAL STATUS OF MIMESIS
In Chapter 9 of The Poetics, Aristotle says the following:
It is for this reason that poetry is both more philosophical and more serious than
history, since poetry speaks more of universals, history of particulars. A
“universal” comprises a kind of speech or action which belongs by probability or
necessity to a certain kind of character – something that poetry aims at despite its
addition of particular names. A “particular” by contrast, is (for example) what
Alcibiades did or experienced50.
It is in this chapter that Aristotle establishes the “quasi-philosophical” status

of poetry. Poetry is comprised of particulars, but they are particulars that have an
intelligible coherence thanks to the fact that they are connected by probability or
necessity. It is because of this principle of probability and necessity that poetry is
“quasi-universal” and thus “quasi-philosophical”.
To understand what Aristotle means when he says that poetry is closer to

philosophy than history, we need to zoom out and take a brief look at Aristotelian
epistemology. First, I would like to focus specifically on what he means by
“universal” and then go on to consider the different forms of knowledge,
including poetry and history.
According to Aristotle, a universal is «that which is of such a nature as to be

predicated of many subjects»51. The following definition of “universal” expounds
upon the Aristotelian definition:
Universals are those ideas which, while excluding whatever constitutes the
difference of things of the same genus or species, represent that which is necessary
to their constitution, is essential, and is therefore common to all, remaining fixed in
all vicissitudes (universalia post rem, in re)52.
50
ARISTOTLE, The Poetics …, 41.
51
ARISTOTLE, De Interpretatione, 17a37; English translation in The Basic Works of
52
A. PICHLER, «Universal», in C. HERBERMANN – E. PACE – C. PALLEN – T. SHAHAN
– J. WYNNE (edd.), The Catholic Encyclopedia, XV, The Universal Knowledge
Foundation, Inc., 1913, 182 – 183 (emphasis added).
23
The human intellect possesses universal knowledge when it grasps

universals. Universal knowledge is the mind‟s intentional possession of the
universal form (or “essence”) of a thing. Knowledge begins with sensation, which
enables us to perceive sensible particulars in our surroundings but is incapable of
knowing what each thing is in itself. Sensation only presents us with sense data,
perceiving the special sense-objects of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch; and
the common sense-objects of movement, rest, number, shape and size53. It does
not grasp the abstract forms of the things. We know a thing only when our
intellect has gone beyond the sensation of its particular accidents and grasped the
universal essence of the thing, which is that which makes it be what it is. The
essence determines what a thing is, and in so doing, makes it possible for the thing
to be known, because man can only know determinate realities54.
There are different levels of human intellectual knowledge, ranging from

experience to philosophy. Experience, the lowest form, is knowledge of particular
things, but it does not grasp the probable and necessary relationships that exist
between things. Through experience, we can know a group of things that are
similar to each other, but we cannot know why they are similar. For example,
through experience, a man can judge «when Callias was ill of this disease, this did
him good, and similarly in the case of Socrates and in many other cases»55. But
only the one who possesses philosophy, i.e. scientific knowledge, can judge that a
cure «has done good to all persons of a certain constitution marked off in one
class when they were ill of this disease»56 because he knows «the why and the
cause»57.
Through experience, a man sees that different individuals have similar

symptoms, and thus begins to move towards universal knowledge, but he is still
53
Cf. ARISTOTLE, De Anima, 418a10-19; English translation, De anima (On the Soul),
Penguins Books, London, 1986.
54
Cf. ARISTOTLE, Analytica Posteriora, 1.24.86a4-7; English translation in The Basic
Works of Aristotle, Random House, New York, 1941.
55
ARISTOTLE, Metaphysica, 1.1.981a8-9; English translation in The Basic Works of
56
Ibid., 1.1.981a10-11.
57
Ibid., 1.1.981a30.
24
not there. He possesses only an “incipient universal” which is «a collection of

individuals that resemble one another, and is thus a “universal” whose boundaries,
and therefore whose content, are vague and imprecise, or confused (apeirai)»58.
On the other hand, the one who possesses scientific knowledge possesses
the highest form of the universal, which is «the abstracted universal that
comprehends only features common to a class of particulars and abstracts from
the particulars themselves and all their idiosyncratic features»59. Scientific
knowledge simplifies indeterminate experience and identifies the essential and
universal:
The more demonstration becomes particular the more it sinks into an indeterminate
manifold, while universal demonstration tends to be simple and determinate. But
objects so far as they are an indeterminate manifold are unintelligible, so far as
they are determinate, intelligible: they are therefore intelligible rather in so far as
they are universal than in so far as they are particular60.
History and poetry are located between these two extremes of the
Aristotelian epistemological spectrum; history is closer to experience and poetry
to philosophy61. History is the recounting of a series of particular events that
actually happened within a given period of time. However, these events are not
necessarily connected by probability or necessity. They are particulars that bear an
accidental relation to each other. They are just a juxtaposition of events within a
given period of time62. Often, one event follows another simply by chance. Thus,
history does not have the unity and universal intelligibility that can be found in
poetry. Poetry can make use of events taken from history, but it must always
situate them within the unified whole of a mimetic work.
Silvia Carli makes an interesting point regarding history saying that the
accidental character and lack of unity of history need not be absolute. While it is
true that many of the details recorded in history are only accidentally connected,
this does not mean that the historian cannot identify causes and consequences
58
S. CARLI, «Poetry Is More Philosophical Than History: Aristotle on Mimêsis and
Form», The Review of Metaphysics 64/2 (2010), 310-311.
59
Ibid., 311.
60
ARISTOTLE, Analytica Posteriora, 1.24.86a4-7.
61
Cf. S. CARLI, «Poetry Is More…», 305.
62
Cf. Ibid., 313.
25
amongst those events. For example, the battle of Salamis and the battle against the
Carthaginians in Sicily took place simultaneously, but without a direct relation of
one to the other. The simultaneous occurrence of the battles is an accidental fact
that the historian is obliged to record. Nevertheless, the historian is not
constrained to report only these accidental events. He can go deeper and identify
the causes preceding the battles and the consequences in their respective regions63.
This is why history is closer to experience but not entirely identified with it.
In pointing out causal relationships amongst particulars, it is beginning to move
away from experience and closer to the universal knowledge of philosophy. Still,
it will always be bound to the actual events that it records, so it will be only
accidentally unified, since in real life things often happen by accident. Thus,
history is essentially different from poetry64.
Poetry shares qualities with both, but it is closer to the side of philosophy
than to the side of history. It does represent particular actions as history does, but
they are particular actions connected in a probable and necessary manner.
For Aristotle, a universal is something that is «predicated of many»65, and

true knowledge can only be had when one moves beyond the particulars and
grasps the universal. Poetry deals with universals of human action and passion,
which «belong by probability or necessity to a certain kind of character»66, and
can thus can be predicated of many of that same kind of character. Probable are
the things that happen for the most part. Necessary are the things that happen
always. In poetry, the particular speeches and actions always belong by
probability or necessity to the characters from which they proceed.
The actions of poetry not only belong to their characters by probability and
necessity, but the actions themselves are connected in the plot by probability and
necessity. As discussed in the previous chapter, one of the basic criteria of the
beauty and unity of a work of poetic mimesis is its wholeness, i.e. the probability
63
64
Cf. Ibid., 319.
65
ARISTOTLE, De Interpretatione, 17a37.
66
ARISTOTLE, The Poetics …, 41.
26
and necessity of the succession of its events. «Unity […] entails a kind of
cohesive “logic” in the sequence of action dramatised by a tragedy; each link in
the dramatic chain must be firmly interlocked with what proceeds and follows
it»67.
This probability and necessity, both at the level of character and at the level
of plot, is what gives poetry universal significance.
The poet portrays particular events the way they would be if there was
nothing extraneous to the plot (i.e. the universal form of actions connected by
probability and necessity) that he applies to it. In this way he acts analogously as a
creator. In nature, each individual thing immanently “incarnates” the universal
form that makes it be what it is. In art, the poet “incarnates” a universal form of
action, present in his own mind, in the particular actions and events of the
characters. He presents actions as if their form had complete power to determine
and rule its matter, excluding from the plot all accidental relations68. Unlike
history which is more faithful to the matter of the events, poetry is more faithful to
the form69. He presents only particular actions that follow from each other by
probability and necessity.
After determining his plot, the overall form of action that governs the
drama, the poet accordingly fits in the characters, their goals, their decision-
making, and their actions. The characters themselves are appropriate for the
accomplishment of the plot, and the actions follow from each character by
probability and necessity. For example, the actions of Oedipus in Oedipus Rex
always follow from his head-strong, resourceful character. He does not give up
the search for the cause of Thebe‟s plague, even when he senses that the solution
could be connected to his own downfall. If he were not to stubbornly pursue the
solution, the progress of the plot would be broken70. Because Oedipus is a head-
strong, resourceful character, the actions that he carries out must be those actions
which follow by probability or necessity from head-strong, resourceful people.
67
68
69
Cf. Ibid., 325.
70
Cf. Ibid., 330-331.
27
In this we find part of the universality of poetic mimesis: each character acts
in accordance with his own character. In actual reality, this is not always the case.
In reality, it is possible for a stubborn person to suddenly act meekly. However, in
poetic mimesis this is not so because such accidental human activity does not fit
its universal nature. «The poet composes unitary chains of causally connected
events by exploiting the sources of regularity of human conduct provided by the
nature of the dramatis personae as the origin of their deeds and sufferings»71.
In her essay, Carli gives an excellent summary regarding the quasi-

philosophical nature of poetry. It is worth quoting at length:
Like the lover of wisdom, the poet has the capacity to see the determinate formal
structures that make our world and its transformations intelligible. His
quasiphilosophical nature is thus his instinct for unity, form and finality. He is so
attuned to wholeness in his imagination that he is able to transfigure even the
contingent domain of the anthrôpina [human action] into a remarkably intelligible
world. Just as the object of the philosopher‟s theôria is that which is most
knowable in itself, the product of the poet‟s activity is a story in which the reasons
of the dramatic character‟s happiness or unhappiness appear with incomparable
clarity. The poet brings to fore the structured regularity of unitary chains of events,
and thus enables us to comprehend not only that something happened, but also why
[…] Indeed we can say his mimetic activity is a making because it does not, as a
rule, reproduce the order of ta genomena [actual happenings], it is not a making up
or invention but rather the discovery of the eidos of actions72.
Philosophy and poetry both seek to give access to the “why” of reality,
going beyond the immediacy of experience to the principles that are not
immediately apparent but are more intelligible in themselves. However, there is a
major difference between their respective modes of doing so. The philosopher
begins with the sensible and moves to the intelligible principles, providing us with
a clearly articulated explanation of the universal. He provides us with a mediated
understanding of the phenomena73.
The poet, on the other hand, moves beyond the immediacy of experience in
a different manner. He takes particular events and orders them according to a
universal form. The form is not abstracted from the particular events, but it is
made more easily graspable thanks to the artful arrangement of the poet and the
71
S. CARLI, «Poetry Is More…», 331.
72
Cf. Ibid., 333-334.
73
Cf. Ibid., 335.
28
exclusion of all accidental events that do not pertain to it. Instead of explicitly
pointing out the universals, the poet leaves them implicit, allowing those in the
audience to discover them on their own. This mode of presenting universals could
be described as «mediated immediacy»: immediate experience, through the
intervention of the poet, becomes a mediated explanation of reality74.
We make sense of poetic mimesis by drawing on the universal concepts that

we have already gained through accumulation of particular experiences75. In other
words, we recognize the universals in poetry because we have already grasped
them to some extent in and through the experience of ordinary life. However, the
benefit of poetry is that it presents particulars in a way that makes the grasping of
these universals easier. As Halliwell puts it,
So in contemplating poetry (or other works of mimetic art) we draw on our real
experience of the world, but we do so in order to understand events which possess
a special degree of coherence and, therefore, significance76.
Poetry represents and organizes particulars in such a way that the universals
are more obvious and more readily grasped, thanks to this «special degree of
coherence», i.e. the special degree of probability and necessity. This facilitates an
experience that allows us to confirm and verify universal concepts that we have
already grasped, as well as to pick up on new universals that we have not
previously noticed.
Poetry is more than a simulation of particulars. Its quasi-universal

significance gives it its value and makes it be more than the mere copying of
reality. If its universal status were lacking, it would be nothing more than fictional
particulars, and thus would be open to Plato‟s criticism that poetry is false and
misleading77.
It should be noted that The Poetics takes a balanced view of the particular
and universal status of poetry, going excessively in neither direction. The fact that
universals are presented through the particulars of poetry does not prevent or
74
75
76
Ibid.
77
Cf. Ibid., 108.
29
discourage the vividness and verisimilitude of the particulars. In The Poetics 4,

Aristotle says that we take pleasure in «the most precise images», and in The
Poetics 17, he calls for dramatic vividness78.
Despite the universal character of poetry, it can never be understood as

purely philosophical. It does give universality to particulars, but it always remains
a representation of particulars. It is not a direct representation of universals.
Moreover, being a work of fiction, it does not provide the certain knowledge of
reality that philosophy provides. Poetry remains quasi-philosophical, partway
between history and philosophy.
Universals are implicit in poetry, but they are not directly asserted. As an
artificial, fictional work, poetry is in no position and makes no claims to be able to
directly affirm universal truths about reality, as philosophy does. However,
although it is does not directly affirm universal truths, it does embody them79.
Another way to describe how universals are contained in poetry is to say

that they are “emergent”. In other words, they do not lie on the surface of the
particulars, but only come to light in and through the active interpretation and
cognition of the audience80. This active understanding is what Aristotle refers to
as manthanein in The Poetics 4: «it is for this reason that men enjoy looking at
images, because what happens is that, as they contemplate them, they apply their
understanding and reasoning to each element […]»81.
To illustrate how universals are emergent in mimetic works, let us consider

The Skate by Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin. At first glance, this still-life may
appear to be a random combination of particulars: a dead skate hangs from a hook
flanked by a cat and dead fish on one side, and various kitchen accoutrements on
78
Cf. S. HALLIWELL, The Poetics of Aristotle…, 108 – 109.
79
Cf. Ibid., 110.
80
Cf. S. HALLIWELL, The Aesthetics of Mimesis…, 198.
81
30
the other. However, upon closer inspection, we can discover interesting universal
relationships82.
The painting contains two categories of objects: animals and culinary

equipment. The animals are either dead or alive: the cat is full of life, while the
skate, fish, and clams are the opposite. Looking at the whole picture from left to
right, we notice a very interesting spectrum. We go from alive to dead to never-
alive. The cat is alive; the fish were alive but are now dead; the cooking tools
never had life and never will.
Going deeper, we see that all of these things have something in common:
they are at the service of man. The skate links the live animal world of the cat to
the inert pots and dishes. It is clearly dead, but its grinning mouth gives it an odd
lifelike look, and its full body appears more alive than the artificial objects to the
right. Everything in this picture has been affected in some way by man to serve
him. The cat has been domesticated to give him companionship; the fish have
killed to give him nourishment; and the various utensils have been made to
facilitate his meals. From all of this emerges an interesting universal truth: all
things, either alive or lifeless, are subject to man. The absence of man from the
picture makes this reality all the more poignant.
Thus, through mimetic representation, a seemingly random collection of

items can communicate a universal truth, as from this still-life emerges the truth
of human superiority over the animal and non-animal worlds.
The advantage of mimesis is that, being quasi-philosophical, it can have the

best of both worlds. It can provide us with engaging and vivid representations of
particular events that at the same time carry with them universal knowledge.
Poetry and all other forms of mimesis take «the raw material of life»83, unify it,
make it intelligible, and present a product that provides us with universal
knowledge of the world. As Halliwell says,
82
Cf. G. HAGBERG, «Aristotle‟s “Mimesis” and Abstract Art», Philosophy 59/229
(1984), 369–370.
83
31
Poetry needs the convincingness of vivid particulars precisely in order to open up

for its audiences the quasi-philosophical scope of comprehension and discernment
that it is capable of providing. The extent to which universals can be discovered in
a work will depend on an interplay between the depth and richness of the poem‟s
imagined world (the complexity of the work‟s explanatory-cum-causal pattern of
human action and experience) and the degree of engaged understanding that is
brought to it by the mind of the spectator or reader84.
In other words, the “grasp-ability” of the universals in the poetic work is

proportional to two things: on the part of the poem, it is proportional to the
vividness of the fictional reality that is presented; and on the part of the audience,
it proportional to the level of participation and understanding that they bring to the
contemplation of the mimetic work. But these two things are inter-related. The
more vivid is the portrayal of the particulars, the more interesting and engaging
will the poem be. The more interesting and engaging the poem, the more engaged
will be the mind of the spectator in understanding and grasping the universal
truths that are embodied and emergent in the particulars.
Why is it the case that the level of engagement is proportional to the level of
vividness of the particulars? When the mimetic object is more precise and
realistic, the more we are able to learn about and understand the reality that it
represents. As we established previously, it is from this understanding that we
gain pleasure. The more vivid the particulars are, the more pleasurable the act of
contemplating the mimetic work will be. The more pleasure we gain from the
contemplation, the more motivated we will be to engage in it.
In addition, the more realistic the mimesis, the more our psychological
response will be like the response we would have if we were confronted with an
actual instance of that which is represented. This, in turn, would contribute to the
degree of engagement that we have with the work. This point will be discussed
further on in our consideration of the mimetic effect.
Here again, we are dealing with another consequence of the dual-aspect

function of mimesis. Because it is a representation of reality, poetry represents
things that we experience in reality, which are always particulars. But because
84
S. HALLIWELL, The Aesthetics of Mimesis…, 199.
32
mimesis is an artificial creation, the artist can give it a level of unity and
intelligibility, and hence universality, that is not found in actual reality.
33
THE SEMI-AUTONOMOUS STATUS OF MIMESIS
The dynamic of the duality of mimesis manifests itself once again in respect
to the standards of correctness to which it is subject. As artificial products,
mimetic works are partially exempt from certain standards of correctness, as long
as the internal requirements of the art are respected. However, as representations
of reality, mimetic works are still subject to a certain level of technical accuracy.
We will now attempt to understand both sides of this duality.
A. The Exemption of Mimesis from Complete Technical Accuracy
In regards to poetry‟s partial exemption from truth, Aristotle allows room

for deviation in two aspects: the marvelous and the «impossible yet plausible».
Aristotle‟s point of departure is that mimesis is fictional and non-affirmative

in the first place. It is not meant to be, nor should it be understood as, a
completely accurate “copy” of reality, nor as a source of scientific knowledge of
reality. Its main concern is the achievement of mimetic effect, which in the case of
tragedy is the arousal and catharsis of the emotions of pity and fear.
Its fictional, non-affirmative status allows poetry a certain amount of lee-

way in its portrayal of reality. Aristotle allows it to deviate from the truth, as long
as the achievement of the mimetic effect requires such as deviation.
In Chapter 24 of The Poetics, Aristotle allows for «the marvelous»85

Halliwell defines marvelous as «things which strike and compel our attention
because they diverge from, or even contradict, our normal expectations and
experience»86. Halliwell also points out that «the marvelous» is a delicate issue for
Aristotle because at first sight it seems to contradict his insistence that all the
events of the plot-structure follow from one another by probability and necessity.
85
Cf. ARISTOTLE, The Poetics …, 60.
86
34
“The irrational”, which means the realm of events that are not intelligible by
normal causal explanation, is the very antithesis of the probability or necessity to
which the Poetics constantly reverts. Ar. is now attempting to suggest how a theory
grounded on the latter can still accommodate the former87.
Aristotle resolves this problem by introducing the following standard:

«events which are impossible but plausible should be preferred to those which are
possible but implausible»88. In other words, events which could not follow, but
seem to be able to follow, should be preferred to events which could follow, but
seem to not be able to follow.
I propose that this maxim can be seen as a qualification, not a contradiction,

of his “probability and necessity” criterion. Aristotle still wants the events of the
plot structure to be connected by probability and necessity. All that he is saying
here is that in some cases it is acceptable to have events that only seem to follow
by probability and necessity, i.e. events that are impossible yet plausible.
With this qualification, he is making an allowance only for exceptional

situations. The precaution that immediately follows is a reminder that this
principle does not open the door entirely to irrationality: «plots should not consist
of parts which are irrational. So far as possible, there should be no irrational
component […]»89. If the poet can use plausible possibilities instead of plausible
impossibilities, he should do so.
This “bending of the rules” is acceptable for two reasons: negatively,

because the end of mimesis is not to make affirmations about how things actually
are in reality; and positively, because the end of poetry is the cathartic arousal of
emotion.
In a number of different places in The Poetics, Aristotle makes it clear that

mimesis is not scientific, i.e. it does not purport to directly provide certain,
universal knowledge about reality. In Chapter 1, he distinguishes between Homer
and Empedocles, saying that Empedocles is not a poet but a natural philosopher90.
87
88
89
Ibid.
90
Cf. Ibid., 32.
35
As already mentioned, with this distinction he implicitly separates poetry from the
ends of natural philosophy.
In addition, in Chapter 25, he makes it clear that mimesis can go beyond the
actual in its representation of reality:
Since the poet, like the painter or any other image-maker, is a mimetic artist, he
must in any particular instance use mimesis to portray one of three objects: the sort
of things which were or are the case; the sort of things which men say or think to
91
be the case; the sort of things that should be the case .
Since it is not the exclusive end of poetry to always portray things as they
are, it is, to a certain extent independent from external reality. It is not entirely
subject to rigid external norms of accuracy because it is not necessary for mimesis
to show external realities as they actually are.
The mimetic work itself determines to some degree the criteria by which it
should be judged92. This is because its end is the achievement of mimetic effect.
The mimetic work is judged by whether it achieves this end, and not so much by
its correspondence to external reality.
In the case of tragic poetic mimesis, its mimetic effect is the cathartic
arousal of pity and fear93. Thus, if the achievement of this effect requires an event
that is impossible yet plausible, the introduction of this irrational element is
acceptable as long as it fits smoothly into the overarching unity of the plot.
Aristotle goes on to point out the two kinds of error possible in poetry.
Furthermore, correct standards in poetry are not identical with those in politics or
in any other particular art. Two kinds of failure are possible in poetry – one
intrinsic, and the other contingent94.
A failure is intrinsic to poetry if the poet «lacks the capacity to achieve what
he sets out to portray», i.e. if he fails to produce a representation that has the
mimetic effect proper to it. A mistake is contingent or extrinsic to poetry if it is
91
92
93
94
Ibid., 61.
36
only a matter of technical accuracy. Aristotle gives the example of portraying a

horse «with its two right legs simultaneously forward»95. Aristotle has no problem
with this, as long as the poet «achieves the goal of art […] that is, if by these
means he increases the emotional impact either of the particular part or of some
other part of the work»96.
But again, Aristotle qualifies his statement, saying that this does not allow
for total freedom from technical accuracy.
If, however, the goal could be achieved better, or just as successfully, without the
particular technical error, then the mistake is not acceptable: for, if possible, the
97
poetry should be altogether free from mistakes .
B. Another Dual Aspect of Mimesis
In the previously considered passages, Aristotle goes back and forth in his
attempt to present a balanced view of how poetry ought to be judged. In summary,
he is establishing that poetry should be as accurate as possible, but without being
unduly shackled by the demands of technical accuracy. This seems to me to be
another manifestation of duality of mimesis.
On one hand, in order to have representational significance, it must be an

accurate portrayal of reality. If it is not at least partially accurate, we will not be
able to recognize in the work something that corresponds to our previous
experience. If recognition is impossible, a process of understanding is impossible.
If understanding is impossible, the mimetic work is no longer mimetic because it
no longer offers an opportunity for learning and understanding, which is why we
engage in mimetic activity in the first place98.
But on the other hand, in order to create a representation of reality that

produces mimetic effect, it must be allowed to deviate from reality when it is
necessary to do so. This back-and-forth between exemption and non-exemption
95
96
Ibid.
97
Ibid.
98
Cf. Ibid., 34.
37
from accurate portrayal of reality can be seen as inconsistent, but Halliwell makes
an interesting point that argues otherwise:
This need not be construed as a radical inconsistency, but it can stand as an

instructive example of a tension which could no doubt be found in certain
later critics too: between, on the one hand, an impulse to establish general
critical values, and, on the other, a desire to allow individual artists and their
works a generous independence from preconceived norms99.
When it comes to poetry, it is not a question of “either-or” but of “both-

and”. Poetry is both representation of reality and an artificial work aiming for its
proper end. As a representation of reality, it must strive for accuracy, but as an
artificial work, is allowed to deviate when the end so requires it. Poetry may be
fiction and thus imaginary, but it is so in relation always to reality.
By “fiction” we understand […] the modeling of a world whose status is that of an

imaginary, constructed parallel to the real, spatiotemporal realm of the artist’s
and audience’s experience: imaginary in that it rests upon the shared agreement
between the maker and recipients of the mimetic work to suspend the norms of
literal truth; but “parallel,” in that its interpretation depends on standards of
explanatory and causal coherence that are essentially derived from and grounded
in real experience100.
This is why we can say that poetry is “semi-autonomous”. It is both tied to

reality as its representation, but independent from it as a mimetic product. As a
mimetic product, it provides a unique opportunity for learning and understanding.
Such opportunities rarely exist in reality as such, that is why it is necessary to
create artificial settings. Why this is so will be discussed in the next section.
It is the semi-autonomous nature of art that frees the artist from the
constraints of reality and enables him to reshape reality and thus create
experiences that are charged with significance. As one author aptly put it:
L‟opera d‟arte non riflette il mondo con la morta automaticità dello specchio, ma
trasforma la realtà in segni, la riempie di significati e diviene così un mezzo attivo
di conoscenza di quest‟ultima. Immagine di una realtà in un‟altra, l‟esperienza
99
100
S. HALLIWELL, The Aesthetics of Mimesis…, 166 (emphasis added).
38
artistica comporta un lavoro di selezione, traduzione e riorganizzazione dei dati che

la realtà gli fornisce101.
101
S. DE ANGELI, «Mimese e techne», Quaderni Urbinati di Cultura Classica, New
Series, Vol. 28, No. 1 (1988), 32.
39
VI
AN OVERVIEW OF ARISTOTELIAN MIMESIS
A. Synthesis
Even though the principles we have considered are taken only from
Aristotle‟s writing on poetic mimesis, they are applicable to all other forms of
mimesis. What makes poetry different from the other mimetic arts is the fact that
it uses language, rhythm and melody as the media of its mimesis. None of the
principles considered are intrinsically linked to the use of these differentiating
media, so they can be applied, by extension, to the forms of mimesis that use other
media.
The mimetic arts for Aristotle are painting, sculpture, poetry, dance and
music102. Mimesis is best translated by “representation,” but it is not entirely
identifiable with it. Likewise, it is more than “imitation”, “reproduction”, and
“fiction”.
One of the first things that become apparent as we consider mimesis is what
Halliwell refers to as its “dual-aspect function”, its double-status both as a
representation of reality and as an artificial creation.
Mimesis arises from man‟s tendency, rooted in his rational nature, to engage
in mimetic behavior and to take pleasure in mimetic objects. The pleasure that we
take in mimetic objects comes from the opportunity of new learning and
understanding that it provides us. Even if what is represented is painful, we have
an overall pleasurable experience because, aware of the artificial status of the
work, we are able to learn and understand more about the thing while having an
experience equivalent to, but not as full as, the experience we would have if we
actually encountered the thing in reality.
102
40
Unity is an essential element of mimesis. It is its unity that makes it more

intelligible than ordinary reality. The criteria for its unity are wholeness,
appropriate size, and a unitary object. “Probability and necessity” are essential to
the wholeness of the work, and thus to its unity.
Mimesis is quasi-philosophical precisely because it gives this special level

of probability and necessity to the particulars that it represents, thus adding a
universal aspect to the particulars. Universals are “embodied” in the particulars
and are more easily grasped by the mind thanks to the super-real unity and
intelligibility of the mimetic work. Because mimesis is an artificial creation, the
artist can give it a level of unity and intelligibility that is not often found in actual
reality.
Finally we saw how mimesis is “semi-autonomous” in its portrayal of the

reality because its end is not to offer certain, affirmative knowledge of actual
reality. Due to its artificial nature, it is allowed to deviate when the achievement
of its end requires such deviation; but due to its representational nature, it should
always strive to be as accurate as possible.
The recurring theme with mimesis is its double status as representation

connected to reality and as an artificial creation independent from reality. Man
takes pleasure in mimetic work because he experiences it like a real thing while
simultaneously being aware that it is artificial. The plot in poetry, while being a
simulation of human action as it occurs in reality, makes human action more
intelligible than it actually is in real life, thanks to its special degree of unity.
While being a representation of vivid, life-like particulars, poetry artificially
embodies universals through the particular events that are represented. Mimesis is
partially autonomous due to its artificiality, yet it is not entirely so because it is
still linked to reality as a representation of it.
B. A Possible Definition
41
Having given a brief analysis of key passages that refer to mimesis in

Aristotle‟s Poetics, I would now like to consider a possible definition of mimesis
as proposed by Paul Woodruff in his essay «Aristotle on Mimesis»103.
In this essay, Woodruff offers an interesting hypothesis, saying that to

produce mimesis is to give fiction the power to engage us as if it were real 104. He
goes on to make a convincing case by seeking a definition of mimesis that works
for music. Since music is one of the more difficult media of mimesis to
understand, he holds that a definition of mimesis that applies to music will also
apply to the other mimetic media105.
In Politics, Aristotle observes that music contains likeness of virtue and vice
because our characters are affected when we listen to music106. Citing Aristotle‟s
Problemata, Woodruff speaks about the how melody and rhythm can have
likeness to character: «Melody and rhythm are motions, and so are actions; both
kinds of motion, when perceived, set up corresponding motions in the mind of the
audience»107.
Actions are both indicative and formative of character:
The music that corresponds to a given type of character simulates that character in
the listener by setting up appropriate motions in his soul. Listening to heroic music,
I feel heroic rhythms pulsing through my soul, and these are just the motions that I
would feel if I were a hero engaged in heroic action […] This music, then, is like a
heroic character. It does for me what it would do for me to have a heroic character;
and if I listen to the music regularly, my soul will become accustomed to motions
of that kind, and I will in fact develop a heroic character108.
Based on this analysis of the Aristotelian understanding of music, Woodruff

suggests the following as a possible definition of mimesis: «mimesis is the art of
103
P. WOODRUFF, «Aristotle on Mimesis», in A. OKSENBERG RORTY (ed.), Essays on
Aristotle’s Poetics, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1992, 73 – 95.
104
Cf. Ibid., 80.
105
Cf. Ibid., 91.
106
Cf. ARISTOTLE, Politica, 1340a22, a41.
107
P. WOODRUFF, «Aristotle on Mimesis»…, 91; Cf. ARISTOTLE, Problemata, 919b26
ff., 920a3ff.
108
P. WOODRUFF, «Aristotle on Mimesis»…, 91.
42
arranging for one thing to have an effect that properly belongs to another: M is a
mimema of O just in case M has an effect that is proper to O»109.
In other words, mimesis breaks the natural order, artificially producing

effects that are naturally proper to other things. It provides us a pleasant way to
experience and learn more about reality. For example, a portrait of a lion gives us
an opportunity to calmly study a lion without the fear or concern that we would
have if we actually were in front of a live lion. Similarly, heroic music gives us
the opportunity to develop courageous habits of mind in an enjoyable and
pleasurable manner110.
This definition fits poetry as well. Poetry is fictional representation of

human action made in such a way that it causes in us the effects that are normally
reserved for actual experiences. Poetry causes in us a vicarious experience of
emotion similar to the experience we would have if we were actually carrying out
or undergoing the represented actions111.
The definition also works for the figurative arts of painting and sculpture.
Pictures and sculptures have some of the effects that belong to the originals
because they allow us to experience the effects of some of visual aspects of the
originals112.
For mimesis to produce effects proper to the originals, it need not represent
every single feature of the original. It need only take on the features necessary for
achieving the effect at which it aims: «the lion-picture need only represent the lion
features about which it seeks to inform us; and the tragic play need show us only
enough of the invented lives of its characters to arouse the desired emotions»113.
109
110
Cf. Ibid., 92.
111
Cf. Ibid.
112
Cf. Ibid.
113
Ibid., 92-93.
43
VII
THE “POLARITY” OF MIMESIS
I propose that Aristotle‟s writings, as commented upon by Stephen Halliwell

and Paul Woodruff, provide us with an aesthetic philosophy that gives us much
insight into the world of art. Aristotelian theory of mimesis offers us a theory
sufficient for understanding all fine arts.
As has been already mentioned more than once, mimesis is much more than
copying reality. It is the re-presentation of reality in a uniquely significant way. It
is the taking of elements from reality and with them embodying universal truths.
Mimesis includes not only traditional art, but also abstract art. Even in abstract art,
some aspect of reality is being imitated and re-presented to us. In a Pollock
canvas, it could be the random, chaotic, unpredictable world guided by chance. In
Christo‟s 24 1/2-mile Running Fence along the California coastline, it could be
«his perception of monumental but arbitrary or even absurd distinctions»114.
Combining Halliwell‟s “dual-aspect function” of mimesis and Romano

Guardini‟s “polarity” provides another interesting perspective. The concept of
polarity, introduced and developed by the philosopher Romano Guardini115, holds
that everything cultural can be understood as situated between two extremes,
always being closer to one extreme than another, although never to the point
where it loses all connection with the opposite extreme.
I think that Halliwell‟s dual-aspect of mimesis can be understood as the two

extremes, or “poles”: representation of reality and artificial creation. The former is
more objective, while the latter is more subjective. One pole is more closely
linked to the external world of actual reality while the other springs from the
114
Cf. G. HAGBERG, «Aristotle‟s “Mimesis” and Abstract Art», Philosophy 59/229
(1984), 371.
115
Cf. R. GUARDINI, L'opposizione polare, Editrice Morcelliana, Brescia, 1997.
44
internal creativity of the artist. One pole is more representational while the other is
more expressive.
The world of art encompasses an incredibly huge spectrum of diverse

realities, ranging from Michelangelo‟s Pietà to Jackson Pollock‟s One: Number
31. The artwork closer to the pole of representation is more like the
Michelangelo‟s, while artwork closer to the pole of expression is more like
Pollock‟s.
One could object that expressive art, especially art like that of Pollock‟s
abstract expressionism, has nothing to do with mimesis. I would argue that it does.
Woodruff defined mimesis as «the art of arranging for one thing to have an effect
that properly belongs to another: M is a mimema of O just in case M has an effect
that is proper to O»116. Every artist, expressive artists included, is trying to
produce something that has the effects proper to another reality. An abstract
expressionist is providing us with an artifact that allows us to experience some of
the effects of his subjective experience. And I would add that this is the case for
all expressive art. It may not be representing a concrete object, but it is
representing the subjective experience of the artist. It may not be representing
reality as we usually experience it, but it is still representing a certain reality – the
reality of the artist‟s subjective experience.
In other words, all works of fine art are mimemata, things that have an effect
that properly belongs to another. Every mimesis has double status: it is a
representation linked to reality, and it is an artificial creation partially independent
from reality. The more it tends towards the side of representation, the more it will
be like the things that we experience in the world around us. The more that it
tends towards the side of creation, the more independent it will be from external
reality and thus, the more subjective it will be. Every mimesis will either be more
linked to external reality and less subjective, or vice versa. But in all cases, it will
be the production of an effect that properly belongs to another thing. Whether that
thing is an objective external reality or a subjective internal reality is dependent
upon which pole the work of art is closer to.
116
45
VIII
ARISTOTLE‟S POETICS AND THE ART OF NICOLAS

POUSSIN
The influence of Aristotle‟s Poetics on artistic theory has been enormous

and it is felt to this day. After a long hiatus, Aristotelian art theory made a
comeback during the Renaissance thanks to the 1498 Latin translation of The
Poetics by Giorgio Valla117. (The mediaeval Latin translation was long-lost.) His
work was eventually followed by translation and commentary in the vernacular by
authors such as Bernardo Segni (Florence 1549) and Alessandro Piccolomini
(Siena 1572 and Venice 1575)118. This revival of The Poetics had a deep influence
on the poetry of Torquato Tasso, whose epic Gerusalemme liberata was a
paradigm of Neo-Aristotelian artistic achievement, impacting not only the world
of poetry but that of painting as well. Nicolas Poussin, one of the foremost
Baroque painters, was among the many 17th-century artists directly influenced by
the poetry and artistic theory of Tasso119.
In order to better understand Aristotle‟s poetic mimesis, I would like to

explore its influence on and presence in the artistic theory and work of Poussin,
who, through Tasso, was a Baroque descendant of Aristotelian art philosophy. I
will consider Poussin‟s work and thought from three different angles. First, I will
consider two different manifestations of the duality of mimesis present in his work
by looking at (1) its uniquely quasi-philosophical quality and (2) its semi-
117
Cf. A. CONTE, «La rinascita della Poetica nel Cinquecento Italiano», in D. LANZA
(ed.), La poetica di Aristotele e la sua storia, Edizioni ETS, Pisa, 2002, 50.
118
Cf. Ibid., 52.
119
Cf. J. UNGLAUB, Poussin and the Poetics of Painting: Pictorial Narrative and the
Legacy of Tasso, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2006, 1.
46
autonomous status. Finally, I will consider how his painting is a (3) pictorial
transliteration of Aristotelian poetic theory.
A. The Quasi-Philosophical Quality of Poussin’s Artwork: Intellectual

Delight
Earlier in this paper, I referred to Stephen Halliwell‟s interpretation of the

“dual-aspect function” of Aristotle‟s mimesis – the ever-present inter-play of the
representation of particular realities and the communication of universal truth.
Placed between these two poles of experiential particulars and intelligible
universals, Poussin always leaned towards the more intellectual aspect of art. He
criticized artists such as Caravaggio for destroying art by making it nothing more
than a mere copying of reality120. His art and thought are heavily influenced by
Aristotle, but also contain a strong rationalistic strain. For him, every aspect of
painting had to be governed entirely by reason121.
His production process was an intense intellectual exercise in which every

single element of the painting was thoroughly and methodically considered. It
began with his “election” of a subject matter, a choice that was itself the result of
careful deliberation122. Following Aristotle‟s definition of poetic mimesis,
Poussin defined painting as «imitation of human action», but particularly, of noble
human action such as battles, heroic actions and divine events123. It was the task
of the artist to represent the «forms of virtues», which are universal ideas
regarding human activity124.
After selecting the matter of his painting, Poussin would dedicate long hours
to studying the works of masters on the same subject. He was very meticulous
about the authenticity of every detail, including the background architecture which
he based upon extensive research. For him, the ancients were paragons of rational
artistic activity, so he spared no effort to thoroughly study and understand the
120
Cf. J. UNGLAUB, Poussin and the…, 12.
121
Cf. A. BLUNT, Poussin, Pallas Athene, London, 1995, 219.
122
123
Cf. Ibid., 13, 15.
124
Cf. Ibid., 19.
47
classical architecture and sculpture that was at his disposal in his Roman
environs125.
Poussin‟s conception of reason was closely bound to mathematics and

geometry, which were essential to his compositional arrangements126. His
rationalism was also very apparent in his theory of modes, the ratios or measures
that the ancient Greeks used for classifying different types of music. He
considered the principle of modes to be applicable to painting as well127.
In his paintings, Poussin sought to capture the “Idea” of beauty, which,

although not found in any individual thing, may be approximated through the
combination of various particular examples of beauty, a process similar to that of
Zeuxis who gathered the most beautiful women of Croton to aid him in creating a
depiction of Helen. Poussin recognized that the universal Idea of beauty was
present in various beautiful things. By studying other masters and attempting to
combine their particular representations of beauty in his own, Poussin sought to
get as close as possible to the Idea of beauty itself128.
Through his art, Poussin sought above all to provide an experience of

intellectual delight. Sensual pleasure was only a part of his work because it was a
necessary means for achieving the more noble delight of the intellect. For Poussin,
intellectual delight comes from the intellectual apprehension of qualities of beauty
present in the work, as well as the wisdom contained therein. He despised the art
of the “Bamboccianti” who aroused pleasure through their artistic representations
of vulgar and ribald subjects129.
B. The Semi-Autonomous Status of Poussin’s Artwork and its Balance

between Verisimilitude and Marvel
125
Cf. A. BLUNT, Poussin…, 227.
126
Cf. Ibid., 224.
127
Cf. Ibid., 225 – 226. The topic of Modes will be considered in further detail in the
section on the relationship between Poussin‟s art and poetry.
128
129
Cf. Ibid., 24 - 28.
48
Closely following the poetic theory of Tasso, Poussin considered

verisimilitude (vraisemblance) to be an essential element of artistic imitation. This
verisimilitude consists in a certain amount of fidelity to a historical truth.
According to both Tasso and Poussin, the work of art must always maintain a
resemblance to the material data of which it is a representation. This data should
be actual historical events or at least probable events130.
However, the artist has the prerogative of imitating things as they are, as
they might possibly be, or as they are reputed to be. This gives him space to
deviate from the historically accurate and introduce “marvel” (meraviglia) to his
art. The verisimilitude of the work must be combined with, yet not overwhelmed
by, the marvelous. Additionally, this combination of the verisimilar and the
marvelous must be plausible in such a way that they are convincing even without
the benefit of sensually pleasing verse (in the case of poetry) or sensually pleasing
color (in the case of painting)131.
In Poussin‟s artwork, the marvelous is achieved through an «excess of

truth» (l’eccesso della verità), that is, the amplification of the truth present in the
painting. For example, in the Holy Family in Egypt (ca. 1655-7), Poussin presents
Jesus, Mary and Joseph resting after their flight from Palestine. The marvelous is
achieved in the way in which Poussin represents the Egyptian environment that
surrounds the holy immigrants. He amplifies and highlights the true fact that they
are in Egypt by including exquisitely accurate and beautiful Egyptian architecture
and fauna. In the background he even includes a religious procession of the cult of
Sero Apin. This painting does not include fantastically unreal elements, but rather
achieves marvel through l’eccesso della verità132.
C. Poussin’s Art as Pictorial Poetry
Just as Aristotle defines poetry, Poussin also defines painting as «the

imitation of human action»133. However, the correspondence between Aristotelian
130
Cf. J. UNGLAUB, Poussin and the…, 29 - 30.
131
Cf. Ibid., 31.
132
Cf. Ibid., 35 - 36.
133
Cf. Ibid., 13.
49
poetic theory and Poussin‟s art goes much further than the definition. There are
many elements of Poussin‟s paintings that are direct pictorial translations of
elements found in The Poetics.
Aristotle identifies six elements of tragedy: plot, character, thought, style,

lyric poetry (or music), and spectacle. “Plot” refers to the organization of events,
and “character” (êthos) is «that which allows us to judge the nature of the agents»
who carry out the action imitated by the tragedy. The “thought” (dianoia) is that
which reveals to us the internal deliberation of the characters through their speech.
“Style” refers to “garnishing” of the language, i.e. its versification through the
addition of rhythm and melody. The “lyric poetry” is the vocal and instrumental
music that accompanies the drama. The “spectacle” includes all of the visual
adornments that enhance the tragedy134. I would like to suggest that there are six
corresponding elements present in Poussin‟s work. I will use Poussin‟s Israelites
Gathering Manna (1639) as a point of reference.
In Manna, as in many of his other paintings, Poussin tells the story of a

historical event in accordance with Aristotle‟s dictates for constructing a poetic
plot135. In his paintings, he transformed narrative subjects into unified, visual
plots, each having a beginning, middle and an end. His pictorial plots, like those
of a tragedy or epic poetry, pivot around the peripeteia, the dramatic reversal that
leads the misfortune or fortune of the protagonists136.
In the group that is to the left of Moses and Aaron, we see the Israelites as
they were before the miraculous descent of manna. The group is comprised of
various “episodes” that dramatize their miserable hunger: one collection of figures
pleads with Moses for his intercession, while in another figure-group a young man
tries to help a hunger-weakened elder. In an act of desperate charity, one woman
even denies her child milk in order to provide it to another starving relative. In the
group to the Moses‟ right, we see a different set of episodes that show the happy
results of the miracle. Some Israelites gather the manna and satiate their hunger.
134
Cf. ARISTOTLE, The Poetics…, 38-39.
135
136
Cf. Ibid., 166.
50
One young man hurries with a container full of food to offer it to famished
friends. A group of grateful men kneel in awe and gratitude before the wonder-
working prophet137.
The pre-manna group and the post-manna group respectively lead up to

and proceed from the dramatic gesture of Moses. He points towards heaven, thus
exhorting the Hebrews to trust in God. His brother Aaron accentuates Moses‟
intercessory role with his own gesture of prayerful supplication. The Moses-Aaron
duo provides the peripeteia of the painting. It is the turning point of the narrative,
but also the plot‟s source of unity. The various episodes of the painting are united
insofar as they are inherently bound to this peripeteia 138.
Manna is an excellent example of how Poussin “emplots” poetic story. He

captures within synchronic space a diachronic narrative139. The story can be
“read” from left to right as we visually follow this dramatic event from Exodus
which Poussin successfully reconfigured into an integral, visual poetic plot. He
literally wanted people to “read” this painting, as he explains in a letter about
Manna.
J‟ai trouvé une certaine distribution pour le tableau de M. de Chantelou, et

certaines attitudes naturelles, qui font voir dans le peuple juif la misère et la faim
où il étoit réduit, et aussi la joye et l‟allégresse où il se trouve ; l‟admiration dont il
est touché, le respect et la révérence qu‟il a pour son législateur, avec un mélange
de femmes, d‟enfans et d‟hommes d‟âge et de tempéramens différens ; choses,
comme je crois, qui ne déplairont pas à ceux qui les sauront bien lire.140
“Character” was defined by Aristotle as that which «allows us to judge the

nature of the agents»141. Halliwell points out in his commentary that when
Aristotle refers to character, he is not speaking about psychological
distinctiveness, which is the most common connotation in today‟s usage of the
word. Instead, he understood it to be the ethical nature of the person, that is, the
137
Cf. J. UNGLAUB, Poussin and the…, 181-182.
138
Cf. Ibid., 183.
139
Cf. Ibid., 166.
140
N. POUSSIN, Letter to Jacques Stella ca. 1637, in J. UNGLAUB, Poussin and the
Poetics of Painting: Pictorial Narrative and the Legacy of Tasso, Cambridge University
Press, Cambridge, 2006, 172-173 (emphasis added).
141
51
moral status of the individual as determined by the virtues or vices embodied in

his active life142. In The Poetics Aristotle makes reference to painting when he is
describing character, saying that the painter Polygnotus, unlike Zeuxis, was «a
fine portrayer of character»143. Tasso, the main link between Aristotle and
Poussin, makes reference to the same passage when he is describing his concept
of costume:
In sum, much as in painting design alone does not suffice if it is not seen together
with appropriate customs, so in the poem, the plot alone is not sufficient without
the expression of this other part. And thus we can compare poems that adhere to
costume to the paintings of Polygnotus, and those deprived of this to the images
painted by Zeuxis144.
For Tasso, proper characterization is an essential part of poetic art insofar as

it is a part of costume, i.e. the «decorum of time, place, and character»145.
Likewise, for Poussin, characterization was an important aspect of his work. He
went to great lengths to ensure that all elements of the painting were appropriate
to the subject, including the character. Here are his comments to his colleague
Félibien on the issue of characterization:
But skilled persons must work from their Intellect, that is to say, to conceive
beforehand that which they want to do, to picture in the imagination a courteous,
generous Alexander, etc., and then to express with colors this personage, in such a
manner that one would recognize through the features of the face that this is an
Alexander who has the characteristics that one has given him146.
In Manna, Poussin bases the characterization of many of the figures on

«icons of pathos» in other masterpieces147. In particular, his depiction of Moses is
very similar to that of Plato in Raphael‟s Academy148. Poussin found in this
famous fresco a mode of characterization that was conducive to showing the
142
Cf. S. HALLIWELL, The Poetics of Aristotle…, 139-40.
143
144
T. TASSO, Discorsi del poema eroico, Naples, 1594, in J. UNGLAUB, Poussin and
the Poetics of Painting: Pictorial Narrative and the Legacy of Tasso, Cambridge
University Press, Cambridge, 2006, 35.
145
J. UNGLAUB, Poussin and the…, 35.
146
FÉLIBIEN, Archives relatives au séjour de Félibien en Italie, in J. UNGLAUB,
Poussin and the Poetics of Painting: Pictorial Narrative and the Legacy of Tasso,
Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2006, 19.
147
148
Cf. Ibid., 175.
52
character of Moses. In The Academy, Plato is shown in the center with Aristotle,
noble and sage, dramatically pointing upwards towards the heavens, a gesture that
symbolizes his philosophy of the supra-real “Ideas.” In Manna, Moses is similarly
shown as a majestic old man, pointing towards Heaven with an almost identical
gesture. Poussin found in Raphael‟s Plato what he needed to effectively
characterize his own Moses. The subject matter of Manna is different, but
Raphael‟s precedent helps him to depict a Moses with the character of one who is
wise and supremely confident in God‟s miraculous power. In the midst of the
desperation and emotions of the Israelites, this Plato-posture is perfect for
showing a Moses who is calm, in-control, and completely trusting in God - an
ideal spiritual leader.
Aristotle defines “thought” (dianoia) as that which «represents the parts in

which by their speech they [the characters of a tragedy] put forward arguments or
make statements»149. With gesture, Poussin visually translates thought onto the
canvas. The dramatic, almost over-dramatic, gesticulation of his figures is one of
the more prevalent aspects of his style. There is often little doubt regarding the
feelings of his characters.
In the pictorial drama of Manna, every character has a role to play through
his body language. On the left side of the painting, in the still-desperate group of
Hebrews, their facial expressions or hand movements say it all: the pained looks
on the faces of the child and mother, the shocked reaction of the man who
witnesses the mother‟s unseemly act of charity, the listlessness of the starving
man who is behind the child, the outstretched arms of the elderly man with his
back to us, and the pleading arms of the men in the background. In the right-hand
side, we see the hungry Israelites collecting the manna. We can see the urgency of
their task in the way they are bent over grabbing fistfuls of manna and consuming
it on the spot. Two boys scuffle for the food, while another man folds his hands
and prays in gratitude. A woman directs the young man with the container full of
manna towards the elderly man with his arms outstretched. A group in front of
149
53
Moses and Aaron kneel and bow in awe and reverence. Moses points towards
God, the source of the miracle that was brought about through his intercession.
Aristotle‟s “diction” (lexis) refers to the style and verse of the language used
in the poem150. Poussin, like many of his contemporaries, equated color with
verse: «li colori nella pittura sono quasi lusinghe per persuadere gli occhi, come la
venustà de‟versi nella poesia»151. He agreed with Tasso that the sensuousness of
color, like that of verse, must not overwhelm the verisimilitude of the story. The
analogy between verse and color had been proposed by Paolo Beni, a proponent
of Tasso‟s poetic theory.
Beni likens verisimilitude to sober, natural hues in painting that are pleasing to the
eyes and encourage the viewer‟s fidelity in the representation. The heroic exploits
proper to epic, “expounded with graceful and enchanting style”, fill the reader with
marvel much as the richest purple or the rarest luminosity in painting beguiles the
eyes. The poet has thereby adorned the work with “the most beautiful and graceful
colors”152.
Just as verse ornaments poetry and makes it delightful to read, so color

enhances the pleasure that is taken in viewing pictorial representations.
The element of “lyric poetry,” or “music,” at first glance may appear to be

incompatible with painting, considering the complete absence of sound. However,
there is indeed a corresponding pictorial element in the art of Poussin. As
Anthony Blunt points out, Poussin applied the principles of ancient Greek musical
modes to his own artwork153. In one of his letter to Chantelou, Poussin describes
modes as follows.
Cette parolle Mode signifie proprement la raison ou la mesure et forme de laquelle

nous nous seruons à faire quelque chose. laquelle nous abstraint à ne passer pas
oultre nous fesant opérer en touttes les choses auec une certaine médiocrité et
modération, et partant telle médiocrité et modération n‟est autre que une certaine
150
Cf. ARISTOTLE, The Poetics …, 53 – 58.
151
G. P. BELLORI, Le Vite de’pittori, scultori, et architetti moderni (Rome, 1672), in
Ed. Evelina Borea, Turin, 1976, 481, in J. UNGLAUB, Poussin and the Poetics of
Painting: Pictorial Narrative and the Legacy of Tasso, Cambridge University Press,
Cambridge, 2006, 31.
152
J. UNGLAUB, Poussin and the…, 31.
153
54
manière ou ordre déterminé, et ferme dedens le procéder par lequel la chose se

conserue en son estre154.
Poussin then points out that the Greeks used the different modes in their
music, each mode producing a particular mood. The mood of the Dorian mode
was grave, the Phrygian was joyful and the Lydian was melancholic. He goes on
to make an implicit connection between the modes in poetry and in his painting as
he justifies to Chantelou the manner in which he painted the Ordination155:
Les bon Poetes ont usé d‟une grande dilligense et d‟un merueillieux artifice pour
accommoder aux vers les paroles et disposer les pieds selon la conuenanse du
parler. Comme Virgile a obserué par tout son poeme, parceque à touttes ses
trois sortes de parler, il acommode le propre son du vers auec tel artifice que
proprement il semble qu‟il mette deuant les yeus auec le son des paroles les
choses desquelles il traicte. de sorte que où il parle d‟amour l‟on voit qu‟il a
artificieusement choisi aucunes parolles douces plaisantes et grandement
gratieuses à ouir, de là où il a chanté un fet d‟Arme ou descrit une bataille
nauale ou une fortune de mer il a choisi des parolles dures aspres et
déplaisentes de manière que en les oyant ou prononsant ils donnent de
l‟epouuentement. de sorte que si je vous auois fet un tableau ou une telle
manière fust obseruée vous vous imaginerés que je ne vous aimerois pas156.
Just as mode is used to set the mood in music and poetry, so it may be used
to do the same in painting. Poussin maintains that the mood or emotion can be
conveyed through the style of the painting157. Anthony Blunt gives us some
examples of how Poussin conveys mood:
In examining the paintings of his later period, we see how carefully Poussin adapts
to his theme not only the gestures and poses of the people taking part, but also the
general disposition of the scene. The jagged movements of the figures in the two
versions of Moses Trampling on Pharaoh’s Crown […] convey the right sense of
alarm, while motionless calm and emphatic horizontals and verticals give grandeur
to the Holy Family on the Steps. Color also plays an important part, and the Dublin
Lamentation […] owes much of its drama to its almost strident harmonies, whereas
the tones of the Louvre Rebecca […] are all sweetness158.
154
N. POUSSIN, Poussin à Chantelou, in C. JOUANNY (ed.) Archives de l’art français,
N.S. 5, Paris, 1911, 370 – 75, in A. BLUNT, Poussin, Pallas Athene, London, 1995, 369.
155
156
N. POUSSIN, Poussin à Chantelou, in C. JOUANNY (ed.) Archives de l’art français,
N.S. 5, Paris, 1911, 370 – 75, in A. BLUNT, Poussin, Pallas Athene, London, 1995, 370.
157
158
Ibid., 227.
55
Mode for Poussin is a ratio that regulates the production of a work of art. A
result of each mode is a certain mood or emotion. We gather from Blunt‟s
comments above that Poussin‟s mode consisted in the proper ratio of gesture,
composition, and colors. We thus find in his mode a pictorial equivalent of music
in Greek tragedy and comedy. Music was used to set the tone and emotion that
was proper to the subject matter being represented. Likewise, Poussin used a
certain mode, i.e. a certain ratio governing various elements of the painting, to set
the mood that was appropriate for the subject matter being presented in the
painting.
The final element to be considered is that of “spectacle.” Spectacle in

tragedy is the visual adornments that enhance the dramatic experience. Stage
props and costumes fall into this category. In painting, spectacle refers particularly
to the background. In the Manna, the background is a mountainous landscape and
the camp of the Israelites. The spectacle sets the stage, so to speak, for the action
that is depicted in the painting. In other paintings of Poussin, the background
consists in classical architecture (e.g. the two versions of The Rape of the Sabines)
or in the interior of a room (e.g. the two versions of Anointing of the Sick).
The art of Poussin is a visual application of Aristotelian artistic theory. In

Poussin‟s paintings, we see the six elements present in Aristotle‟s description of
tragedy. We see the same awareness of the quasi-philosophical status of art and
how it communicates universal, intelligible truths by means of particular
representations. We also see in Poussin‟s work the balance between the actually
true and the marvelous, to which Aristotle refers in The Poetics. Poussin‟s
rationalistic emphasis on the intellectual meaning of his paintings, a result of his
17th-century milieu, naturally fit with Aristotle‟s philosophical understanding of
poetry and other forms of mimetic art.
56
CONCLUSION
We have considered the theory of Aristotelian mimesis, and we have seen a

particular application of it in the artistic style of Nicolas Poussin. Mimesis is a
uniquely human reality, straddling the subjectivity of man‟s creative intellect and
the objectivity of the external world. This duality of mimesis permeates all of its
different aspects.
Mimesis is a complex and beautiful part of human nature, one that goes well
beyond poetry and painting. Everyone, to one degree or another, engages in
mimetic activity. Every time we tell stories, we are producing a certain type of
mimesis, communicating universal knowledge through the recounting of
particular events. Mimesis is probably one of the most common ways in which we
teach and learn. It is the way in which we make sense of the world around us
transmit the significance that we encounter.
Mimesis is part of man‟s cultural nature. It is one of the ways in which he

freely acts upon the world around him. Like all uniquely human realities, it is
involved in the dynamic relationship between human freedom and human nature.
We are free to re-arrange the particulars of the external world in any way we wish.
However, our mimetic re-arrangement will only have value to the degree in which
it corresponds to the truth of human nature.
When man makes mimesis, he creates. He imbues his surrounding world

with his own meaning. He uses his freedom to make his mark and to produce
something that exists only because he exists. There will always be rain, and plants
and animals, but there will never be another work created by Michangelo. His
masterpieces are unique realities, exclusively linked to his own irrepeatable
existence on earth.
Thus, mimesis is more than a mode of acquiring and communicating

universal knowledge. It is also a way of knowing how this particular artist sees or
saw the world. It is an insight into the utterly unique mind of an individual human
57
being. It is an extension of his being, one that will long outlast his earthly
existence. The Michelangelo‟s Sistine Chapel frescos, Da Vinci‟s Mona Lisa,
Handel‟s Messiah, and Shakespeare‟s Hamlet are just a few of numerous
masterpieces that continue to leave us awe-struck long after the deaths of their
creators. When we marvel at a mimetic work of art, we marvel at the intelligence
and ingenuity that is behind it, and we marvel at human genius in general.
If the human mind is capable of coming up with such beautiful creations, we

cannot help but wonder what mind was capable of coming up with man.
58
BIBLIOGRAPHY
ARISTOTLE, Analytica Posteriora; English translation, The Basic Works of

----------------, De anima; English translation, De anima (On the Soul), Penguins
Books, London, 1986.
----------------, De interpretatione, English translation, The Basic Works of Aristotle,
Random House, New York, 1941.
----------------, Metaphysica, English translation, The Basic Works of Aristotle,
----------------, Ethica Nicomachea, English translation, The Basic Works of Aristotle,
----------------, Physica, English translation, The Basic Works of Aristotle, Random
House, New York, 1941.
----------------, Politica, English translation, The Basic Works of Aristotle, Random
----------------, Rhetorica, English translation, The Basic Works of Aristotle, Random
----------------, Poetica; English translation, in S. HALLIWELL, The Poetics of
Aristotle: Translation and Commentary, Gerald Duckworth and Co. Ltd.,
London, 1987.
BLUNT, A., Poussin, Pallas Athene, London, 1995.
CARLI, S., «Poetry Is More Philosophical Than History: Aristotle on Mimêsis and
Form», The Review of Metaphysics 64/2 (2010), 303–336.
CONTE, A., La rinascita della Poetica nel Cinquecento Italiano, in D. LANZA,
(ed.), La poetica di Aristotele e la sua storia, Edizioni ETS, Pisa, 2002, 45
- 58.
DE ANGELI, S. «Mimese e techne», Quaderni Urbinati di Cultura Classica, New
Series, Vol. 28, No. 1 (1988), 27-45.
HAGBERG, G., «Aristotle‟s „Mimesis‟ and Abstract Art», Philosophy 59/229
(1984), 365–371.
HALLIWELL, S., The Poetics of Aristotle: Translation and Commentary, Gerald
Duckworth and Co. Ltd., London, 1987.
----------------, The Aesthetics of Mimesis: Ancient Texts and Modern Problems,
Princeton University Press, Princeton, 2002.
GUARDINI, R., L’opposizione polare, Editrice Morcelliana, Brescia, 1997.
PICHLER, A., «Universals», in C. HERBERMANN – E. PACE – C. PALLEN – T.
SHAHAN – J. WYNNE (edd.), The Catholic Encyclopedia, XV, The Universal
Knowledge Foundation, Inc., 1913, 182 - 183.
POUSSIN, N., Poussin à Chantelou, in C. JOUANNY (ed.) Archives de
l’art français, N.S. 5, Paris, 1911, in A. BLUNT, Poussin, Pallas Athene,
London, 1995, 367 - 372.
PRIETO, L., El hombre y el animal, Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Madrid,
2008.
TATARKIEWICZ, W., History of Aesthetics. I. Ancient Aesthetics. II. Medieval
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Aesthetics. III. Modern Aesthetics, Thoemmes Press, Bristol, 19992;

English translation of Historia Estetyki, Ossolineum, Warsaw, 1962.
UNGLAUB, J., Poussin and the Poetics of Painting: Pictorial Narrative and the
Legacy of Tasso, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2006.
WOODRUFF, P., «Aristotle on Mimesis», in A. OKSENBERG RORTY, (ed.), Essays
on Aristotle’s Poetics, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1992, 73 -
95.

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ATENEO PONTIFICIO REGINA APOSTOLORUM

“Mimesis” According to Aristotle

Direttore: Alain Contat

Studente: Eric Wandrey, L.C.

FE2001 Dissertazione per la licenza in filosofia

Numero di matricola: 7336

Roma, 30 aprile 2013

I. AN INITIAL LOOK AT MIMESIS……………….…………. 7

II. THE DUALITY OF MIMESIS………………………………. 13

III. THE UNITY OF MIMESIS………………………………….. 17

IV. THE QUASI-PHILOSOPHICAL STATUS OF MIMESIS…. 22

V. THE SEMI-AUTONOMOUS STATUS OF MIMESIS……... 33

VI. AN OVERVIEW OF ARISTOTELIAN MIMESIS…………. 39

VII. THE “POLARITY” OF MIMESIS…………………………… 43

VIII. ARISTOTLE‟S POETICS AND THE ART OF NICOLAS

What he means exactly by “mimesis” is not clear. Nowhere in his Poetics

In chapters I – V, I will consider some of Aristotle‟s comments on mimesis

Most of Aristotle‟s comments on mimesis are in reference to poetic

In Chapter VII, I will offer a personal interpretation of Halliwell‟s “dual-

AN INITIAL LOOK AT MIMESIS

A. Art According to Aristotle

Aristotle describes man‟s soul as uniquely rational3 and identifies three

In Nichomachean Ethics, he gives a definition of each type of knowledge.

Art (techne) is «a reasoned state of capacity to make»7, and could be

Aristotle makes it clear how art is different from scientific knowledge:

Scientific knowledge deals with things that are or come to be by necessity.

All of Aristotle‟s writings can be classified according to each mode of

In his works on theoria and praxis, Aristotle develops a profound general

“Art” in Aristotelian philosophy «can roughly be defined as a productive

B. The Mimetic Arts

C. Distinctions about Mimesis

We can find an important aspect of the Aristotelian understanding of

Mimesis is not imitation. In modern English, imitation implies the existence

Subsequently, we know that mimesis is not fiction, since mimesis takes

Mimesis is not reproduction. Woodruff gives the example of reproducing a

Stephen Halliwell suggests that “representation” is the English word that

I usually favour the translation “representation” (or alternatively “portrayal”),

Mimesis is a type of representation, but not every representation is mimesis.

While mimesis has something to do with representation and fiction, it is not

D. Mimesis and Man’s Rational Nature

Poetry is the mimesis of a specific part of reality, that of human action. As

THE DUALITY OF MIMESIS

A. The “Dual-Aspect” Function

As we begin our exploration of the meaning of mimesis, I would like to

He is referring to a dynamic that is inherent to mimetic art. Mimetic art is

B. The Duality of Mimetic Pleasure

However, this pleasure of recognition of representational significance is not

Thus, Aristotle introduces a basic dichotomy of mimetic pleasure which has

be of something painful. Aristotle repeats and confirms this point in Book 1,

However, Aristotle makes a point in Book 8, Chapter 5 of Politics that could

Here Aristotle is saying that it is possible to take pleasure in the beautiful

Halliwell explains well the problem presented by the two quotes:

The problem can be solved, not by oversimplifying our response to mimesis,

THE UNITY OF MIMESIS

In his definition of tragedy in Chapter 6, Aristotle establishes that a tragedy

Unity, for Aristotle, is closely linked to beauty. As he says later in the

Regarding the wholeness of the plot, he says the following: