I asked a friend the other day what he desired most from a dramatic performance. His response was, I want to feel “refreshed.”
About 2,500 years ago, in one of the earliest and perhaps still the most influential work on dramatic theory, Aristotle pointed to the same feeling — he called it catharsis, translated as purification, cleansing, and even clarification. Aristotle recognized that a well-constructed play can engender an emotional cleansing, where even folly, death, tragedy, and the most painful emotions, behaviors and traumas can be transformed when brought to light.
What is the mechanism that makes that work? I suspect part of the process is the dramatic sense of finality. When the last curtain falls, the characters have played their part, but the audience has yet to finish theirs. With a sigh of relief, they can rise from their seats, smarter than when they first sat down, and make a fresh start, hopefully avoiding, in their own lives, the farce or tragedy they just witnessed being played out on the stage.
In the early days of radio, soap manufacturers began sponsoring melodramas. Those “soap operas” are still going strong today. Is there a connection between these two commodities, one rousing shock and pity and the other promising cleaner skin or clothes? A hot shower with a big bar of soap can leave us feeling clean but not necessarily emotionally purged. That said, I believe there is a connection, however cursory, though we can confidently presume those early advertisers cared no more about enlightening their audience than they do today.
“Refreshed” is a great word. I thanked my friend for sharing his insight and sat down to write this blog. By the way, why am I doing this? So people know we’re serious and pay attention. We discovered in “The Further Shores” a way to hit the reset button, a way to dramatize a new beginning, because the world most assuredly needs a fresh start. If you agree, please join us on our journey by donating now.