Chapter I — Dramatic Contests at Athens
§ 1 General Character of the Contests
The Attic drama, like most ancient forms of art and poetry, was originally the offspring of religious enthusiasm. It was developed out of the songs and dances in honour of Dionysus, the god of wine and vegetation. In course of time, as it assumed a regular dramatic shape, its range of subject was extended far beyond the limits of the Bacchic mythology. Its religious significance was also gradually diminished, and it began to be written more and more from the purely human point of view. But in spite of these changes, its outward connexion with the Bacchic worship was preserved unimpaired throughout the whole period of its history. Dramatic representations at Athens were confined, from first to last, to the great festivals of Dionysus. They were regarded as a religious ceremonial, as an act of homage to the god. They never became, as with us, an ordinary amusement of everyday life. During the greater part of the year the Athenians had to be content with other forms of entertainment. It was only when the annual festivals of Dionysus came round that they were able to gratify their passion for the stage. On such occasions their eagerness and enthusiasm were proportionately great. The whole city kept holiday, and gave itself up to pleasure, and to the worship of the wine-god. Business was abandoned; the law-courts were closed; distraints for debt were forbidden during the continuance of the festival; even prisoners were released from gaol, to enable them to share in the common festivities.1 The theatre, the chief centre of attraction, was thronged with spectators; and the number of plays provided was large enough to compensate for their scarcity at other periods. Several days in succession were devoted to the drama. Tragedies and comedies followed one another without intermission from morning till evening. In the midst of these pleasures the religious aspect of the performance, as a ceremony in honour of Dionysus, established in obedience to the direct commands of the oracle,2 was not forgotten. The audience came with garlands on their heads, as to a sacred gathering. The statue of Dionysus was brought to the theatre, and placed in front of the stage, so that the god might enjoy the spectacle along with his worshippers.3 The chief seats in the theatre were mostly occupied by priests, and the central seat of all was reserved for the priest of Dionysus.4 The performance of plays was preceded by the sacrifice of a victim to the god of the festival. The poets who wrote the plays, the choregi who paid for them, and the actors and singers who performed them, were all looked upon as ministers of religion, and their persons were sacred and inviolable. The theatre itself possessed all the sanctity attaching to a divine temple. Any form of outrage committed there was treated, not merely as an offence against the ordinary laws, but as a sacrilegious act, and was punished with corresponding severity. The ordinary course of law was not considered sufficient, and they were dealt with under an exceptional process at a special meeting of the Assembly.5 It is recorded that on one occasion a certain Ctesicles was put to death for merely striking a personal enemy during the procession.6 Merely to eject a man from a seat which he had taken wrongfully was a piece of sacrilege punishable with death.7 These various characteristics of the Attic drama—its limitation to certain annual festivals, and its religious associations—have no parallel on the modern stage, apart from isolated survivals like the performance at Ober-Ammergau. The modern theatre has long since been divorced from ecclesiastical influence, and is unrestricted as to season. But its original surroundings were not dissimilar. The Mysteries and Miracle Plays from which it is descended, and which were performed year by year for the instruction of the people on the great Feast-days of the Church, suggest many points of comparison with the exhibitions at the Attic Dionysia.
Another remarkable feature of the ancient theatre is the fact that almost all the dramatic representations were arranged in the form of a contest. Prizes were offered by the managers of the festival, and poets and actors exhibited their plays in competition with one another. The victory was awarded by the decision of a carefully selected jury. It is curious to notice how strongly implanted in the Greek nature was this passion for anything in the shape of a contest. It was not peculiar to the drama, or to the Athenian festivals, but prevailed throughout Greece in all festal gatherings where music and poetry were performed. Every Greek city of any importance had its annual meetings, with a long list of competitions. There were contests in choral singing of various kinds; contests in original poetry, and in the recitation of ancient epics; contests between harp-players, flute-players, trumpeters, and heralds. In this respect a Greek festival was not unlike a Welsh Eisteddfod, with its rival bards and choruses. In the case of the drama the element of competition must have added largely to the interest of the entertainment, and must have acted as a powerful stimulus upon the minds of poets and performers alike. The fertility of the old Attic dramatists, and the energy which enabled them to produce, in extreme old age, such masterpieces as the Agamemnon of Aeschylus, the Oedipus Coloneus of Sophocles, and the Bacchae of Euripides, may have been partly due to the invigorating influence of the contests, and the rivalry which they engendered.
The management of the dramatic performances was in the hands of the State, and was entrusted to the same official who had the general control of the festival. The superintendence which he exercised was not merely a formal one. His duties were important and carefully defined. He had to select the poets who took part in the competitions, and the plays which they exhibited. He had to choose the actors, and distribute them among the different poets. He was also responsible for seeing that the work of preparation was carefully carried out. The expense of the performance was one of the regular public burdens, and was imposed in turn upon the richer citizens. In modern times there is no example of a theatre so entirely dependent upon the State. In England the drama is left solely to private enterprise. In countries like France and Germany, though certain theatres receive subventions from the State, and are subject to a code of rules, the government takes little part in the direction of their affairs. But the Athenian drama stood on a different footing. As a sacred ceremonial, closely connected with the religious worship of the State, it was naturally placed under public control. Even from the secular point of view it was considered a fitting object for the attention of statesmen. To provide for the amusement and instruction of the people was, according to the Greeks, one of the regular duties of a government; and they would have thought it unwise to abandon to private venturers an institution which possessed the educational value and wide popularity of the drama. For the audience to which the Athenian poet addressed himself was in reality a gathering of the whole body of his fellow countrymen. The theatre of Dionysus was capable of containing nearly twenty thousand people. Books were not plentiful, and their use was confined to a limited class. The ordinary Athenian depended for his literary pleasures upon the various public performances and recitations of poetical compositions. The drama was, therefore, much more to him than to a modern playgoer. At the present day, when continual supplies of fresh literature are accessible to every one, it is hard to realize the excitement and expectancy with which an Athenian looked forward to the annual exhibition of dramas at the Dionysia. It was here that his taste for novelty in literature was gratified. It was here that he found an equivalent for the books, magazines, and newspapers of modern civilization. Hence he was able to sit day after day, from morning to evening, listening to tragedy and comedy, without any feeling of satiety. The enthusiasm with which the drama was regarded, and the direct manner in which the author was brought into contact with the whole body of his countrymen, contributed to make the vocation of the dramatic writer one of the very greatest importance. The leading tragic poets especially exercised a most profound influence upon the national mind and character. They were the teachers of the people. Their writings were invested with an almost Homeric sanctity, and appealed to as authorities on questions of science and morality. Maxims and quotations from their plays were upon every one’s lips. Many passages in Aristophanes and Plato prove the enormous influence for good and evil which was exercised by the Greek tragic poets, and there is probably no other instance in history of a drama which was so thoroughly popular, and formed so essential a part of the national life.8