This book employs American psychologist-philosopher Silvan Tomkinsā affect and script theories to draw out consistent, significant, but largely unacknowledged emotional content in tragedy. While the primary focus of application in this exploration is tragedy as a genre, this volume also serves as an introduction to and first instalment in a larger study of emotional consistencies in additional types of foundational narrative structures, or what Northrop Frye calls the āpregenericā (1957, 162) myths in his seminal Anatomy of Criticism, specifically tragedy, comedy, romance, and irony-satire, which taken together comprise his ācentral unified mythā (192). My explorations here concern relations of similarity between specific narratives within the tradition of tragedy, typically though not necessarily in dramatic form, across three Western cultural moments, and these observations lean toward the possibility of emotional universals within the tragic tradition and perhaps within all four pregeneric myths.
Part I of this book is the theory section, starting with this general introduction, followed by a detailed introduction to Tomkinsā theoretical models in the context of and as a potential literary hermeneutic in Chap. 2, and then an exploration of tragedy as a genre in Chap. 3. Part II is an application and detailed testing of my theoretical hypotheses in three case studies: Sophoclesā Oedipus,1 Shakespeareās Hamlet, and Arthur Millerās Death of a Salesman. These dramas as narratives are chosen specifically both for their iconic status and for their seemingly different cultural moments in Ancient Greece, Elizabethan England, and mid-twentieth-century America. Admittedly, however, they are all āWestern.ā
But I want first to begin this discourse with my favourite passage from Tomkins : āThe world we perceive is a dream we learn to have from a script we have not writtenā (1992, 4: 239). And now an unabashed confession: I am a Silvan Tomkins fan. He is for me brilliant. For about 12 months, I had been studying and appreciating Tomkinsā ideas around affect, cognition, and human beingness when that sentence astonished me. Iāve cited his Affect Imagery Consciousness (AIC) volume four, which is where I first noticed the sentence, but I later rediscovered it early in Chap. 1 of volume one from 1962. It is a one-sentence compression of his entire theoretical construct, which up to that point I had not quite seen in toto. I was contemporaneously struck by the thought that while we read literature, we are dreaming in the sense that we are constructing imagery and animating fictive people using our memories while in quiet dialogue with an authorās script. Dreams are analogous imaginative reconstitutions. One curiosity about dreams, however, is how they so often insinuate a narrative structure during their illusory consciousness only to elude meaningful interpretive patterns, except possibly with reference to their predominant emotions. What I feel upon waking seems to me most essential and explicatory. A fundamental difference between dreams and literature (in the broadest sense) is that from an early age, people learn the ārulesā of storytelling, if only implicitly. There are organizable and organized patterns to literature as a constructive practice. Life, literature, dream all involve multiple levels of caring, of feeling, of thinking. Literature is a dream with which we can learn to define, to illuminate, to reflect on our lives. Literature, I think, may be the single greatest database for the study of patterns in human emotional life.
To the best of my knowledge, no one has attempted the type of examination of emotion and genre as I do within this exploration, and only a limited number of critics have taken advantage of Tomkinsā theories to illuminate literary and/or cultural objects and productions. I have not yet found a wholesale application of Tomkinsā idiosyncratic vocabulary and theoretical constructions in āAffect-Script Psychology,ā or ASP, which might also represent āaffect-script philosophy,ā to literary and/or cultural products. (I include a detailed glossary of Tomkinsā terminology to facilitate an appreciation and understanding of his specific word usages.) The methodology that I derive from Tomkinsā work leads to an examination of these literary objects as case studies in applied theory. In terms of the tradition of literary studies, this work most closely aligns as a combination of psychological and/or psychoanalytical explorations of literature with genre studies. Though not specifically concerned with the historical context of my chosen examples, I show that despite radical cultural differences, a common emotional thread can be traced through the generic history of tragedy by observing a high ratio of correspondence between specific examples of what Silvan Tomkins calls affect-scripts, or ways of living and dealing with emotion, and tragedy as a genre. Readers should be aware that while I use the terms āaffectā and āemotionā synonymously in this introduction, those two terms will be totally differentiated in the next chapter, and that is key to my argument.
Charles Altieri, in The Particulars of Rapture, calls Tomkins āthe greatest theorist focusedā (2003, 47) on affect. Altieri is frustrated with contemporary literary criticism due to scholarsā obsession with historical and socio-political critiques in the service of a āmoral wisdom or ethically enlightened attitudeā (1) which leads to āover-readingsā of meaning. Instead, he seeks to establish a context for reading toward aesthetic philosophies through āvarious affective dimensions of experienceā (2) as they manifest in art and literature. While Altieri implicitly understands Tomkinsā ideas about affect as an aesthetic experience, he makes neither extensive nor exemplary use of Tomkinsā theories by citing only Sedgwick and Frankās edited volume of Tomkinsā writings on shame, which, while incredibly important, is but one aspect of Tomkinsā large, extensive, and comprehensive theoretical system.
Eve Sedgwick and Adam Frank (1995) tried to introduce Tomkins to a generation of critics with Shame and Its Sisters, and they have had some success. Stephen Barber and David Clark refer to that book, in their introduction to Regarding Sedgwick, as ācarefully reducing the body of his writings to a representative core as a way of preserving and indeed reanimating its significanceā (2002, 49; emphasis added). This is terribly inaccurate. Shame, although very important to Tomkinsā total theoretical schema, is only one of nine āaffects,ā which are in turn only the beginning concepts of a comprehensive imagining and modelling of human psychology. Still, I applaud Sedgwick and Frankās (1995) efforts to institute a new model of analysis, notably in their introduction āShame in the Cybernetic Fold.ā As Altieri is frustrated with many modern criticsā attitudes, so Sedgwick and Frank feel that Tomkins offers an alternative to Ricoeurās āhermeneutics of suspicionā because, āfrom a systems theory point of viewā (Sedgwick 2002, 248), Tomkins opens new interpretive possibilities beyond the entrenched āparanoiaā of modern critical theory. Yet even a critic of Sedgwickās stature has been unable to motivate fundamental acceptance of Tomkins in critical theory and literary interpretation. In his article āWhen Whippoorwills Call,ā for example, James Kincaid writes that with Shame and Its Sisters, āwe are shown how to listen to the past so as to hear intimately, drawing up from inside ourselves a way to think and see feelingly. The systems theorist, Silvan Tomkins , has not yet worked his way inside our practice. But he will, since he is now Eve-saturatedā (2002, 239). This has proved largely untrue thus far, although contrary evidence might seem to suggest otherwise.2
Melissa Gregg and Gregory Seigworth released the much-cited essay collection The Affect Theory Reader in 2010 and even dedicated it to Eve Sedgwick. Yet Tomkins is cited in only 3 of the 14 compiled essays and then exclusively mediated through the Sedgwick -Frank, shame-focused lens. None of the affect theorists in the Gregg and Seigworth volume treat Tomkinsā work as primary texts. Nonetheless, anyone who begins reading Gregg and Seigworthās The Affect Theory Reader quickly learns that, in those editorsā perceptions, there are ātwo dominant vectors of affect study in the humanitiesā (2010, 5).3 One vector is defined by...