Resolution - Philosophical Concept | Alexandria
Resolution, in dramatic poetry, signifies the unfolding of consequences after the climax of a narrative, a period of reckoning and often, reconciliation. Is it merely a tidy conclusion, or does it hold secrets to the story’s lingering power? Often mistaken for a simple "happily ever after," resolution’s true essence lies in the complex interplay of fate, choice, and their reverberating echoes.
The formal tracing of resolution as a dramatic element can be found as early as Aristotle's Poetics (c. 335 BC), though not explicitly named. The text examines the structure of Athenian tragedy, implying the necessity for a "denouement" following the climax, where the threads woven throughout the play are untangled. This period coincided with the rise of Greek theatre as a central pillar of civic life—a time when plays were not merely entertainment but crucial explorations of morality, justice, and the human condition. This period of unraveling provides audience and characters with insights into the nature of their world.
Over centuries, resolution has shapeshifted alongside evolving societal values and artistic movements, and the influence of Shakespeare's tragedies in the early 17th century further solidified the resolution's role. Note plays like Hamlet and King Lear, where the final scenes are laden with revelation and the grim acknowledgement of deeds done. The legacy of these works, and others like them, is rich with the notion that resolution is not always kind, or just, but necessary for the narrative process. Consider the development of modern drama, from Ibsen's critique of societal norms to Beckett's existential voids—each playwright manipulates resolution to reflect new dimensions of the human experience. What if the choices we make reverberate beyond the final act?
Today, resolution persists not only in traditional theatrical forms but also resonates in film, literature, and even video games. The narratives we consume often echo the fundamental questions posed by those earliest dramas: How do we find meaning in the aftermath of turmoil? Is closure truly possible, or is it merely an illusion we construct to cope with the unfinished business of life? This brings us to ask: Does resolution offer a sense of conclusion, or merely a pause before the next act begins?