"...whatever he may say bears a likeness to the written word...

From Cicero, De Oratore, yet again. This guy is just full of good bits (not to be confused with naughty bits). I'm fascinated by his zeroing-in on the importance of writing and the written word--this may be the first time we've come across this in class. Here's everything that I think is fascinating:

"But the chief thing is what, to tell the truth, we do least (for it needs great pains which most of us shirk)--to write as much as possible. The pen is the best and most eminent author and teacher of eloquence, and rightly so."

Later...

"...the actual marshalling and arrangement of words is made perfect in the course of writing, in a rhythm and measure proper to oratory as distinct from poetry."

Later...

"...he too who approaches oratory by way of long practice in writing, brings this advantage to his task, that even if he is extemporizing, whatever he may say nears a likeness to the written word..."

All found on page 309 in Rhetorical Tradition, 2nd Ed.

What I love about it is the marriage between the two things which up until now have seemed separate to our authors/philosophers. Writing and oratory go together so nicely, and complement each other so well. In fact, I might go so far as to say that you cannot have one without the other. For clearly it's possible to speak without writing, but is it possible to be an orator, per se? You have to have some clear goal, you have to be just, you have to speak well, as Quintilian would say. Writing helps us do that. And obviously the people from whom we get all this information penned their thoughts on rhetoric.

The oral histories get passed down, but changed, and lost, and misconstrued. Written history has a permanence that is both reassuring and, at times, frightening, but its lasting power cannot be under-valued. That we no longer think of rhetoric without thinking, in one way or another, of writing, speaks not only to the value of written language, but to the staying power of Cicero's thinking (and writing...had he not written it down, we might never have had these snippets to ponder).

Oh, and so I don't forget, "eloquence" is of the utmost importance to Cicero and everyone, and I find myself feeling pretty triumphant on behalf of writing that to become an eloquent speaker one must first be an eloquent writer.

P.S. "eloquence" is a really beautiful word.

"The truth is that the poet is a very near kinsman of the orator"

Methinks I love Cicero. Easier to read than our previous adventures (does that make me lazy? I think not), he seems to have something to say about everything.

The title quotation, from De Oratore, page 299 in The Rhetorical Tradition, was an idea that I think I'd like to latch on to. Here in its entirety:

"The truth is that the poet is a very near kinsman of the orator, rather more heavily fettered as regards rhythm, but with ampler freedom in his choice of words, while in the use of many sorts of ornament he is his ally and almost his counterpart."

Not something that we think about a lot, especially if I pull the idea out of Cicero and implant it into today's society: poets and politicians are not always likened to one another, nevermind mentioned as allies and counterparts, in our modern political world. Although, now that I think about it, there are a lot of famous political speeches, but those that are most famous are from times past (that only follows linear time logic, since I can't know what someone will orate about in the future, but still, my argument stands, I think). For example, "Four score and seven years ago" is a familiar quotation, certainly, and I think most would agree it has some poetic qualities, but I don't think anyone would listen to George W. and think, "Ah...the sweet, sweet sounds of political poetry."

Where has that love of poetics gone? Does it exist somewhere and I'm just missing it? Words are chosen based on persuasive effectiveness, not much more. But, is that what poets do, too?

Some things to ponder, for certain.

"The following is a more detailed list of things that must be good."

I find Aristotle both infuriating and inspiring. The above is what started me on a rant to Kathleen about Aristotle's intentions in writing Rhetoric. Here's more of the quotation from above:

"Happiness, as being desirable in itself and sufficient by itself, and as being that for whose sake we choose many other things. Also justice, courage, temperance, magnanimity, magnificence, and all such qualities... Further, health, beauty... Wealth... Friends and friendship... Sciences and arts... And life: since, even if no other good were the result of life, it is desirable in itself."

These are all things that Aristotle says must be good. Must? What I'm not sure of here is whether Aristotle is trying to prove something, or if he's using these definitions as a way to show his students how to use these accepted definitions against/ for someone. For example, would he say these are greater, natural truths that cannot be disputed, or are they just perceived as natural truths by most people, and therefore can be used as a weapon in rhetoric? Aristotle does this with nearly everything he defines, spending pages giving us definitions of motives, goodness, irrefutable truths, and wrongdoing.

Later, he writes, "If the audience esteems a given quality, we must say that our hero has that quality, no matter whether we are addressing Scythians or Spartans or philosophers. Everything, in fact, that is esteemed we are to represent as noble. After all, people regard the two things as much the same" (RT 199).

Aristotle, you MUST SAY that, but why? In order to convince your audience of the goodness of your subject, regardless of whether you actually think he was good? And if, say, murderous behavior is an esteemed one to your audience, must you give that attribute to the subject? I think Aristotle would say yes, because rhetoric is about persuasion, but doesn't that go against what Aristotle believes about those irrefutable truths? Is the idea that "It's all relative" at odds with undeniable, irrefutable truths? Or are they not? It bothers me because I don't exactly see how they can be reconciled, and yet somehow they are in Aristotle's Rhetoric. Perhaps those turths that are fundamental ARE, indeed, irrefutable, BUT you have to cater to other untruthy (thanks Stephen Colbert) things in order to win over an audience, which, after all, is the goal of rhetoric.

Hm, afterthought: this might be solved by looking more closely at page 207, where A discusses particular law versus universal law. Ugh. I actually don't think it's solvable.

beginning

Here it is. A "commonplace" blog, all to myself. Purpose? To provide a place to expand on seeds of ideas that get planted in my brain while reading the material for EN 912: Rhetoric (and the history of it). As yet, there are no seeds, because I haven't really done any of the reading, but this is just the first entry.

I think I'll set it up like this: every time an idea strikes me, I will quote the passage (or some words of it) in the "title" for the day, and then use the body of the entry for my thought-puke. I'll empty the contents of my brain, and hopefully begin a kind of of journey to find that already-existent idea that is napping in my unconscious, ready to be discovered and explored.

I also cannot promise that this blog will ONLY be for the purposes I've already described. Occasional grumbles may erupt from my mind and find their way through my fingers to the keyboard, and that can't always be helped.