Tragedy
Martina Maloney
What is it about this word that has been so frequently used in literature and drama? When we examine it closely, its origins stem from the Greek word ‘tragoidia’, meaning ‘goat song’, which is connected to ancient rituals and performances.
Tragedy has been performed by actors for centuries in plays and operas. What is it about a talented actor acting out a tragic scene that makes the audience feel as though they become a surrogate? You leave the theatre energised; could it be that something mystical transfers between the performer and their audience?
Among great writers who have crafted timeless works centred on tragedy, Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Othello, and Romeo and Juliet are prime examples. The reader longs for a happy ending, yet we instinctively know it is destined for tragedy.
Many of these writers depict the flaws of human nature. The characters are imperfect, and pride and ambition often lead to their downfall.
What comes to mind is one of the greatest tragedies of the 20th century: the sinking of the Titanic. A ship built in 1909 with such hubris that it was called the ‘unsinkable’ ship. We all know the outcome: approximately 1,500 people lost their lives. Hollywood released a blockbuster about the tragedy in 1997, and it had grossed $2.26 billion as of 2024. What is it about this story that continues to fascinate us as humans?
Many renowned figures have met tragic ends. As a child, I will never forget the morning of August 16, 1977, when my mother entered our bedroom and announced that Elvis had died. I can still see the grief on her face. Twenty years later, I awoke in a box room in Limerick to hear my transistor radio announce that Princess Diana had been killed in a car accident. More than a million people lined the streets of London to watch her funeral procession, while an estimated 2.5 billion people watched the event on television.
Perhaps tragedy endures because it strips away illusion. It confronts us with loss, fragility, and the limits of our control. Yet in witnessing it, whether on the stage, in literature, or through a static radio announcement, we are united. We grieve together. In that shared sorrow, there is something profoundly human. The Greeks understood it well; it is not only about death but about catharsis. In facing our darkest moments, we become closer to the illuminated self.
Even popular culture echoes this truth: as the Bee Gees once sang, tragedy comes ‘when you lose control’. And perhaps that loss of control is precisely what binds us, reminding us of our vulnerability, and of one another.
Martina Maloney, MA in Creative Writing, is a member of Inklings Writing Group, who meet on Tuesdays at 11am and Wednesdays at 7.30pm in the Annebrook House Hotel. Aspiring writers welcome. “We have fun…even when writing on tragedy.”