Few terms in literary criticism are as widely used – and as widely misunderstood – as hamartia. It’s usually translated as ‘fatal flaw’, and it often shapes the way we talk about tragic heroes and their downfalls. But what does the word actually mean in Greek? And how is it used in ancient literature?
Chris Tudor here, the founder of MASSOLIT – and I want to take a closer look at what hamartia really means. If we go back to its original contexts, a slightly different picture begins to emerge: one that has less to do with fixed character traits, and more to do with specific moments of error – those crucial instances where someone simply misses the mark.
In Homer’s Iliad (e.g. 5.287), the verb is used in a very literal sense: a warrior throws a spear or a stone and misses. That is the core meaning of the word.
Importantly, this sense of ‘missing’ is not confined to epic poems. The word appears in tragedy itself, and in ways that help clarify its nuance.
In Aeschylus’ Agamemnon (213), the Chorus (quoting Agamemnon) describes his fear of ‘letting down’ the alliance – of failing at a crucial point. In Sophocles’ Ajax (155), the Chorus talks about how Ajax rarely ‘misses’ with his spear. Again, the emphasis is on a specific act: the success or failure of a particular throw.
And in a lost comedy of Sophocles (fr. 565), the verb is used in a rather less elevated context: someone hurls a ‘stinking pisspot’ at someone else – and misses. Fortunately for the intended target. The phrase itself sparked discussion in Athenaeus, and it is a reminder that hamartia operates at every register of Greek literature, from epic to tragedy to comedy.
In Herodotus (1.71), it refers to ‘misinterpreting’ an oracle – getting something wrong at a specific interpretative moment. In Aristophanes’ Wealth (961), it is used for ‘missing’ a turning.
Across these examples, one thing is consistent: hamartia refers to a failure at a particular moment. It describes something that happens – an action that goes wrong. What these uses do not describe is an ongoing moral weakness. They do not point to a trait such as pride, jealousy, or ambition. They describe a particular error – a failure at a particular moment.
We see this clearly in the Odyssey (9.512). When Polyphemus (one of the Cyclopes) uses the verb, he is referring to the moment he was blinded – not to his ongoing condition of blindness. Blindness itself is not hamartia; the act of being blinded is.
That distinction matters.
When we apply this to tragedy, a shift in emphasis becomes possible.
Rather than thinking of hamartia as a ‘fatal flaw’ – some embedded defect in the hero’s personality – we might think of it as a tragic mistake. A bad decision. A misinterpretation. A wrong turn.
Take Macbeth. His ambition may predispose him to act, but his hamartia is not ambition itself. It is, for example, his decision to believe the witches, or his choice to kill Duncan – specific actions taken at specific moments.
Similarly, in Othello, jealousy may form part of the psychological background. But the tragic hamartia lies in the moment he believes Iago, in the act of killing Desdemona.
Seen in this light, tragedy becomes less about diagnosing a hero’s fatal defect and more about examining the consequences of particular mistakes. The focus shifts from character as essence to character in action – from what someone is to what someone does.
Of course, the interpretation of hamartia as ‘fatal flaw’ has a long and important critical history, and it would be wrong to dismiss it out of hand. That tradition has shaped centuries of literary criticism and classroom teaching. But returning to the Greek usage invites us to reconsider what we mean when we use the term.
At the very least, it encourages us to ask a slightly different question. Instead of ‘What is the tragic hero’s flaw?’, we might ask: ‘At what moment does the hero miss the mark?’
There is every chance that this piece itself contains several hamartia, so thoughts are very welcome!
A final note: the verb is hamartanō (not harmatanō). And for those wondering how to pronounce hamartia: it’s ha-mar-tee-a.