Reading through book 2 (I'm about halfway done) I'm particularly struck by two things. First, Aristotle seems to believe that everything is classifiable. In doing this, and in his belief that rhetoric is powerful and useful and worth teaching, he shows a great faith in language. It's as though language can account for everything—for our emotions; for any situation in which people find themselves; for the many different kinds of people, their thoughts and their reasons for feeling the way they do. But I can't help feeling this exhaustive approach is limiting, because while the outline of the work is logical, the way that it proceeds is very digressive, to the point where much of it is hardly about rhetoric at all, at least to a modern reader. Of course this is a very old text, and its intended audience and purpose will always be a question. Writing then was different than it is now, though speech was certainly systemetized; perhaps if we could hear him talk all of this would seem more logical and less digressive. Or maybe digression was considered part of A's brilliance; different cultures at different times value different modes of expression. Like the way some middle and far eastern languages value metaphor more highly than the spare, direct style that we prefer in American English.
Second, A generalizes freely, and often uses the words "all" and "everyone" to prove a point by claiming concensus. I'm sure this is cultural, the Greeks view of the individual in society being much different from our own. But it struck me as very un-sophistic, while his faith in language seems sophistic. A has certainly come some distance toward the sophists from Plato by acknowledging rhetoric's practicality and separating it from morality, but he doesn't have their sense of contingency. For A, even though he's not an Athenian and would've had an "outsider's" perspective to some degree, there don't seem to be cultural differences that would demand a speaker to practice his art differently. Even in the way he drifts so far away from rhetoric and into general human observation, A doesn't acknowledge other cultures or points of view. Maybe this is because this was written with the more narrow purpose of teaching an Athenian man to speak in the Athenian assembly, where there are only other Athenian men. But surely if these other perspectives were part of his consciousness he would've mentioned something outside of Athens, or at least its possibility.
12 comments:
I see Aristotle’s approach to rhetoric as a very practical one. His writings appear to be a series of notes and definitions, summing up the most important elements of rhetoric and presenting them in ways useful for his students and other rhetoricians. As much as I like this approach however, I agree with Dan in thinking that it can be limiting and digressive. Looking at the cultural values of the time is a great idea in this situation.
I could not help but notice the attention Aristotle gave to defining common principles of living—what makes one good or bad, the reasoning of right and wrongdoing, which elements of character should be valued etc. These seemed more focused on big ideas than elemental techniques to help with creating actual arguments. Aristotle did seem to think that the careful study of an audience in connection with the use of language could solve any situation. It is an attractive idea, particularly in a time where argument as an art form was a new idea, but I am skeptical that this could ever really be true in all situations. (Though it can’t hurt!)
That's interesting, Dan. I'm interested in the idea of culture/civilization as it influences rhetoric or speech or teaching. Would someone in Aristotle's position have been able to express different opinions and still maintain his job and standing? Did he really believe what he was teaching? As a new teacher I think that's a valid question--do I follow the "party line" or step out and do my own thing? How much of my own culture do I bring in to the classroom?
This isn't my final post, it just got my curiosity working. Thanks!
Although I agree that A’s categorizations are limiting, I was struck by how specific and detailed the descriptions he does include were, such as “all things are more fearful insofar as something cannot be set right by those who have made a mistake…” and “shame is imagination about loss of reputation…” and the definition of pity revolving almost entirely around one’s preoccupation with potential disaster. The content of this work on rhetoric does not support the invented rift between philosophy and rhetoric, which makes sense as it is impossible to fully understand an audience if you do not understand human beings and their psychology.
I agree that Aristotle's descriptions of human emotions are very detailed. I concur with what Kennedy wrote on page 113: "These famous chapters on the emotions ... are the earliest systematic discussion of human psychology." Was Aristotle the first ancient Greek to write down these definitions and descriptions? And how did he arrive at them - were they based on what had been passed orally though the culture or did he make his own observations? I was also struck by what Aristotle wrote in "Those Who Are Feared" (Book 2, Chapter 5). He revealed what I consider a negative view of humanity when he said in 2.5.8: "for human beings ususally do wrong when they can." He goes on to note in 2.17.6: "Although people are more arrogant and unreasonable because of good fortune" - an unflattering assessment of human psychology. He concludes the sentence this way: "there is one very good characteristic that follows from good fortune, namely that these people are lovers of the gods and have a special relationship to divinity, having faith in the gods because of the benefits that have come to them from fortune." It seems that Aristotle is describing people of good fortune as somewhat naive - they have faith in the gods because they have been fortunate.
You know, when I read that passage on human nature I thought that I could see exactly what Aristotle was talking about, but we have previously discussed my cynicism in class. I do think that the observation in response to attributing good luck (a random occurrence that happened to favor a particular person), that the recipients of good fortune tend to look for someone or something to attribute it to. This is a naive but perfectly understandable response to good luck. After all, when we know where it came from, we might just be able to make it happen again somehow, and controlling the source from which that good thing sprung, especially when I have it and you don't (say) makes me better at grabbing a chance (the ole bootstrap principal) or it means that whomever or whatever regulates chance (we love our contradictory premises) thinks I'm better than you are.
Of course, the other alternative is to believe, if you believe in that regulating force, that one of you is being taught a lesson.
And that is my snarky comment on politics (note to self-- must stop reading the news late at night. My inner cynic is howling at the moon.)
I think that it is impossible to believe in the power of the word without wondering what can and should be done to rationalize it. How does one shape the results and goals which one strives for? Surely everyone who has ever tried to lay out an work of persuasion has had an aim and at least something of a plan for getting there, even if it's as simple as 'hurt the bad people.' I, too saw Aristotle's blind 'everyone' and 'good', as well as the many, many appeals to the good that have littered the works we have been reading as an address to the reader and the reader's world by way of justification. Something like 'we all do this, therefore we find it good and so should you.'
That most primitive of appeals should not be denigrated. It still works on everyone from college grads to the yokels of Louisiana, where I was born. Pick a man and I will show you that he considers himself to be in a tribe somewhere (because feeling tribally un-identified is acutely painful to the human psyche.) If we do not think we are tribal, it only goes to show that we are so in compliance with our tribe that we have internalized its rules. And this goes double for me, too, but you have to guess whose war paint I'm wearing.
Nothing wrong with seeking out the like-minded.
Whenever we make our appeal to the highest good we can see (and we all will, even if we choose not to do it in public), we appeal based on the terms of our tribe, and not just because it's the comfy way to do it, until we have been made truly uncomfortable by that tribe itself. Aristotle, a Greek by association, (kidding, kidding) appeals to the greatest good he can by way of consensus (in the Greek aristocracy.)
Why? Because no matter how powerful language is, there has to be someone to practice it on.
Don't go looking for consistency now, because human nature is elegantly inconsistent.
And thank you for bearing with me, I do so love (being over)bearing.
Exhaustive categorizing is and is not limiting; if nothing else, it gives you something to respond to which has relatively defined boundaries, making it easier to respond.
But you have a point. Artistotle backs himself into the occasional corner in the process of constructing a definition but doesn't seem to see what we see in terms of creating logical cul-de-sacs, of which an aristocrat arguing for the common good so totally embodies.
This is a late post (I know, shocking coming from me.) But there are a few things I would like to comment on that I have noticed while reading Aristotle, and perusing the posts. I'm interested in this concept of absolutes that Aristotle is continuously using in his descriptions and explanations. "SL" that mentioned the idea of keeping in the party line, as a new teacher. I hadn't, up until that point, connected this absolutes problem that I was having in the readings to the surrounding culture.
It's obvious now that it has been pointed out. A great big "duh" as it were.
In the first book, the whole section on what is "good" made me dizzy from all the circles in logic. Every point that he used as a support was based on the all "All living things" and "no one praises what is not good" etc. Thinking that the "all" was Greece, unless it was specifically stated as an Enemy, makes a little more sense in this context. Looking at this reading through a modern lens changes the "all" dramatically.
I hope this makes sense.
Aristotle is certainly an obsessive classifier; dcryer makes a notable observation in pointing out that "[he] seems to believe that everything is classifiable." To me, this comment is quite well-founded in Aristotle's own _Nichomachean Ethics_, where types of behavior (i.e. courageousness, temperance, generosity, etc.), levels of agency, classes of friendship, and many other topics are exhaustively discussed and placed within schemas denoting their ethical worthiness (nearness to or distance from achieving _eudaimonia_ a.k.a the Good Life).
For Aristotle (again following dcryer), language seemingly can account for everything (hence, his being classified as an ontological realist--our words do correspond to an objective reality and vice-versa). One of the problems with this view is that A. can then develop a political teleology based upon "existing conditions" which we would find problematic, to say the least (i.e. slavery, the subjugation of women, the constant fractiousness between the Attic city-states, etc). We can certainly question whether A.'s view of the world necessarily limits his allowances for the possibilities of language, constructive explanations of "reality", and so much more.
This recalls Wittgenstein: "The limits of my language are the limits of my world." What kind of a world does A. allow to exist?
I think that it is interesting to think how Aristotle came up with his extensive lists of emotions, definitions of these emotions, how they work, what causes them or causes others to be affected by them, as well as some uses in oratory. Since we have no way of knowing, I like what Dan said about imagining his office or what Dr. Romano said about him possibly asking his students to observe or he, himself lurking to find out human nature.
I think there is a similar dilemma in Indian classical dance. Around the 9th century Bharata Muni (a sage) is said to have written the ‘5th’ Veda- the Natyasastra. It is a long treatise about drama in India, which includes all performance arts including dance. He enumerates hand gestures, facial expression, and emotions. He also covers positions of the body, head, face, eyes, arms and feet. The list is not exhaustive- each area has been added to and specialized within the art forms but also in subsequent texts. For example, he outlines many hand gestures, but a much later work- The Abinaya Dharpana (a text on classical dance)- only shows some of these gestures as well as adds gestures more widely used specifically in dance. Though the work is amazing that it is still the primary guide on dance and drama, the impressive part is his discussion on bhava. Bharata Muni explains bhava, the use of expression, in great detail explaining the types, causes, and how to convey them in drama. He breaks down bhava into the main feeling (in a love story: love), the transitory states, the causes, the elements that increase and decrease that feeling, and even the ways to show it on stage: for example 6 ways you can laugh if you are in love. Bhava is used by the dancer (actor) and causes rasa in the audience. For example, sringara, the rasa of love is usually combined with another feeling like pathos, so the audience will feel the separation felt by the lovers on stage.
Ultimately, he must have written part of the techniques of what he was seeing already being performed in his day. But I think because he categorized so nicely, like Aristotle did, it has stood the test of time. It is in no way complete, and most modern day dancers do not use every position, hand gesture, etc that he outlined, but it is still a solid reference to all things dramatic in India—much like Aristotle’s overview of Rhetoric.
Please excuse my feeble-mindedness, but I had trouble finding a thread on Aristotle’s (A) Books 1 and 2 to respond to. Part of this has to do with the abstractions in Kennedy’s text, and the other part has to do with the dearth of citations from the primary text. A’s abstractions and glossaries are not helped by Kennedy’s turgid prose or by the Oxford UP, whose layout in the 1991 ed. visually engages the reader as much as the White Pages. I think the monotonous streams of text more closely resemble the original tablets Rhetoric was translated from. Why can’t publishers design text more fitting for the attention span of a contemporary reader? Chunkier with a minimally diverse range of typefaces. But I digress, just had to mention my beef with Kennedy and Oxford.
I liked what many of the blogs had to say, but often had trouble linking the ideas to passages in Kennedy. Carrie has invited me to argue nicely, so I’ll use her as an example. She wrote “That most primitive of appeals should not be denigrated. It still works on everyone from college grads to the yokels of Louisiana, where I was born. Pick a man and I will show you that he considers himself to be in a tribe somewhere (because feeling tribally un-identified is acutely painful to the human psyche.)”
I was particularly interested in this passage not just because I’m a coon-ass, but also because I was interested in primitive appeals and wanted to know more about what she was writing about so I wanted a direct quote from Kennedy here, because honestly, although I’ve read it, if I didn’t underline the lines and made a note in the margin, I won’t recall it. So for my critical, and hopefully polite, example, please show me where Aristotle writes about the primitive appeal.
In short, studying rhetoric and any literature demands that we wrangle with abstractions, and situating abstraction in relative terms, citations of primary text become—for lack of a better word—concretisms. I admit that I hate the amount of research used in scholarship, sometimes wondering if anyone has a relatively original idea any more, but without citations, the discourse can become diffuse and relatively too abstract.
I have a conflict with the process of naming things, like what we did with “rhetoric” and what all of us have to do when we tell people what we study and they fire back the inevitable, “what’s rhetoric?”, usually triggering a bilious reaction in me. As much as I hate categorizing or putting things into boxes, it seems a necessary evil if we’re going to talk about anything. We need a grammar and a vocabulary. How would English departments manage without the boxes: Victorian, Romantic, Sophistic.
Naming and classifying seems an inevitable human impulse; it’s how we navigate pop culture. For example, check this band out, if you love Zeppelin and Sabbath, you’ll love .... and I’m usually deflated when someone looks at one of my paintings and says that it reminds them of a Francis Bacon (a stretch). And I think, too bad, I was hoping that it looks like a Gerard Hebert.
Or last night when someone asked me what I was going to be or dress as for Halloween. I could only say that pageantry needs color and texture, not a taxonomy.
Are we left to classify everything?
I was interested in Dan’s initial post on language and the sophists.
“Aristotle seems to believe that everything is classifiable … in his belief that rhetoric is powerful and useful and worth teaching, he shows a great faith in language … as though language can account for everything … emotions … any situation; for the many different kinds of people, their thoughts and their reasons for feeling the way they do … while the outline of the work is logical, the way that it proceeds is very digressive … much of it is hardly about rhetoric.”
I agree that A’s chapters: Anger, Calmness, Philia seem to digress far from rhetoric; they seem like psychological generalizations, parts of which I disagree with. For example, A defines calmness as the “opposite of becoming angry, and anger the opposite of calmness” (130, ed. 1991). I think rage is the opposite of calm, but tempered anger can be maintained while remaining calm. And the same anger can be the antedote for apathy.
What I can glean from A’s psychological chapters is an attempt by him to emphasize knowing the listener and understanding what attracts and repels them. Knowing what the listener wants or grasping what can only be a tenuous hold on understanding the emotions of another can help the rhetor know her audience. Poor people are usually angry, and I think it benefits a speaker addressing the poor to know that their anger could result from “longing for something and not getting it—are irascible and easily stirred to anger … one at war by things related to the war” (127, ed. 1991). Can’t we all relate to this one?
A swings for the fences as he tries to help his reader know their audience by listing and explaining the emotions governing human behavior. Some of it is helpful, some of it is general, and even wrong.
And I remain torn between classifying things: naming and placing, and acknowledging the complexities and ambiguities while reducing at the same time. But we need words, I need a vocabulary (hard drive, JPEG, megs) to call CIRT and participate in a discourse. I have many questions about being lost between naming and not naming, hopefully ya’ll can help me to articulate them.
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