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33 pages 1 hour read

John Dryden

An Essay of Dramatic Poesy

Nonfiction | Essay / Speech | Adult | Published in 1668

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Literary Devices

Dialogue

Instead of writing the piece as a short prose essay, Dryden instead employs dialogue: a conversation among characters who are avatars of his friends and patrons. While not strictly speaking a Socratic dialogue (which employs questions and answers to engage reflection and reach consensus), the essay does pay implicit homage to the ancient philosophical method. The essay’s dialogue also provides different points of view, arguments and counterarguments, and varied examples in a spontaneous manner—though the reader knows the end result is scripted. In this way, it reflects the conversations within the essay itself: The dialogue mirrors the poesy of the essay’s title, imitating (and improving) on nature rather than exactly mimicking it.

Metaphor

Dryden employs metaphors to vivid effect throughout the essay; the essay itself, as discussed above, relies on an extended metaphor of battle. He also employs a metaphor to illustrate how the moderns surpass the ancients in their playwriting: The ancients knew not to divide plays into particular acts, which is akin to “building an house without a model” (164). Later, plots are compared to cloths “weaved in English looms” (196), which both makes them unique and fit for a particular culture. Moreover, English playwrights work like chess players: “[B]y little and little he draws out his men, and makes his pawns of use to his greater persons” (206). All of these metaphors underscore the seriousness with which Dryden takes his discussion—as important as the battle raging in the background—and the superiority of the English writer.

Simile

Another figure of speech that uses comparison (one using “like” or “as”), the simile emphasizes or vivifies a concept. Dryden uses similes to illustrate some of his most significant points. For example, when Eugenius argues that wit should employ understandable language, he says that wit “is most to be admired when […] it is understood by the meanest apprehension, as the best meat is the most easily digested” (171). When Lisideius argues for the supremacy of the French theater, he points out that all characters have a purpose in their plays, “like so many servants in a well-governed family” (180). Each character assumes a role in the play, just as each servant fulfills his duty in a family; the comparison indicates appropriate roles and strict order. Later, when Neander defends the use of poesy in drama, he says that actors “perform their tricks like fortune-tellers by confederacy” (210). Again, the simile serves to illustrate the importance of unity and order.

Personification

Dryden endows certain inanimate objects with human characteristics and agency. One of the most striking examples is when Crites discusses nature, that most important quality that all writing strives to reproduce: “Those ancients have been faithful and wise observers of that nature which is so torn and ill represented in our plays; they have handed down to us a perfect resemblance of her, which we […] have rendered monstrous and disfigured” (157). To personify nature as a woman—and then to depict the violence done to her—emphasizes how seriously this concept should be taken; the assault is more horrifying when it is imagined to be committed on an actual (and vulnerable) person. More broadly, the characterization of nature as feminine—a passive object of study for the male artist, philosopher, or scientist—was common in Dryden’s era (and others).

Either-Or Fallacy

Dryden refers to a rhetorical fallacy near the end of the essay. Also called the “false dilemma,” the either-or fallacy presents a complex argument as having only two sides, inauthentically simplifying the argument and often employing two extremes rather than examining the reasonable middle. Neander accuses Crites of using this fallacy when discussing judgment: Crites suggests that a poet who has judgment “will commit no faults either in rhyme or out of it” (224), while a poet without judgment “shall write scurvily out of rhyme and worse in it” (224). Neander counters, “[T]he first of these judgements is nowhere to be found, and the latter is not fit to write at all” (224). That is, Crites has argued that either a poet is perfect or his writing is unsalvageable. Neander reasonably suggests that no poet is perfect, but judgment—like rhyme itself—can function as a tool to help the poet write the noblest work.

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