Absalom and Achitophel is "generally acknowledged as the finest political satire in the English language".[2] It is also described as an allegory regarding contemporary political events, and a mock heroic narrative. On the title page, Dryden himself describes it simply as "a poem".[3][4]
In the prologue, "To the Reader", Dryden states that "the true end of satire is the amendment of vices by correction". He also suggests that in Absalom and Achitophel he did not let the satire be too sharp to those who were least corrupt: "I confess I have laid in for those, by rebating the satire, where justice would allow it, from carrying too sharp an edge."[5][6]
Absalom and Achitophel has inspired a great deal of discussion regarding satire: how satire was defined when Dryden wrote, and how this poem contrasts with the ancient models of Horace, Virgil, and Juvenal. Dryden himself is considered a father of the modern essay, and one of literature's most important critics of the literary form, particularly in his essay "A Discourse Concerning the Original and Progress of Satire", where he writes a history of satire "from its first rudiments of barbarity, to its last polishing and perfection".[7] He also offers a definition of satire:
Heinsius, in his dissertations on Horace, makes it for me, in these words; "Satire is a kind of poetry, without a series of action, invented for the purging of our minds; in which human vices, ignorance, and errors, and all things besides, which are produced from them, in every man, are severely reprehended; partly dramatically, partly simply, and sometimes in both kinds of speaking; but for the most part figuratively, and occultly; consisting in a low familiar way, chiefly in a sharp and pungent manner of speech; but partly, also, in a facetious and civil way of jesting; by which, either hatred, or laughter, or indignation is moved."
At one point in the essay, "A Discourse Concerning the Original and Progress of Satire", Dryden mentions Absalom and Achitophel:
The nicest and most delicate touches of satire consist in fine raillery … How easy it is to call rogue and villain, and that wittily? But how hard to make a man appear a fool, a blockhead, or a knave, without using any of those opprobrious terms? … The character of Zimri in my Absalom, is, in my opinion, worth the whole poem: 'Tis not bloody, but 'tis ridiculous enough. And he for whom it was intended, was too witty to resent it as an injury … And thus, my lord, you see I have preferred the manner of Horace, and of your Lordship, in this kind of satire, to that of Juvenal.[8]
