It is by experience, imagined or perceived, that we are capable of recognition; for recognition is the experience of resonance, a mirroring of something without and something within.
Thus it is that the value of dramatic works to a society is that they move us to feel, that we may then recognize and treat with honor, integrity, and dignity; that we may show love, compassion, and acceptance; the only truly effective tools of success in a world of disparate enterprise.
For it is only in variance that a world can exist at all, as the utterly uniform threatens to spread an emptiness across the ages; a functional blanking of canvas which effectively erases the deviance that separates object from ground.
Without this ability to relate, we are weak and foolish, incapable of rising above ourselves, forever trapped by our own presumption and arrogant judgement; plagued eternally by the unquenchable self-defeating drive to declare the world around us instead of listening to its own account of being.
Further, this inability blinds us to the true nature of things, as the page is blind to subject until the pen applies deviation in the etch of creation.