An absolute chink in the armor

At first I was fascinated by Eagleton's chapter on truth, virtue, and objectivity (103). Then I was confused by it. He appears to relegate absolute truth to the rather trivial affairs of life such as tainted fish. He does, however, point to such things as tigers in the bathroom and racism as examples were someone just has to be wrong. There is either a tiger in the bathroom or there isn't. There will be consequences if one chooses "wrongly" here. I did appreciate his separation of truth from dogma, even though that is a relatively elementary observation. However, I did see him break form in one place, and I found it disturbing. "Absolute truth does not mean non-historical truth; it does not mean the kind of truth that drops from the sky, or which was vouchedsafe to us by some bogus prophet from Utah"(108-109). Bogus prophet from Utah? Now, granted, no particular prophet was named. There are probably a great many prophets that hale from Utah. By what standard is Eagleton measuring out the term "bogus" and applying it to any one of them? Is that an absolute truth? Since he has already established that the origins of truth are probably not knowable, why couldn't it drop from the sky? Even the skies over Utah? Can the prophet be bogus for him and not for me? And last, but not least in these considerations, just who the hell does Eagleton think he is? Absolutely?

Light up, Boys, and let's talk about structures

I found the discussion in Goldberg about the statement supposedly originated by Marlowe to be very entertaining: "They all that love not Tobacco & boies were fooles." In the structure of the colonial power of England of that day, use of tobacco products was viewed as a patriotic act. Sodomy was seen as anything that by its nature was subversive to the structures of the kingdom. Religion was the glue that seemed to hold this colonial house of cards together. And religion was totally devoid of anything resembling gaiety. If Marlowe did in fact make the statement referenced above, he was showing his extraordinary wit. To link a social practice that was both encouraged and considered "manly" with a clear reference to all that was considered subversive and weak, was to question the integrity of the primary foundational structures within the society. That would be enough to get a person killed in Marlowe's era. I still wonder what the real motivation behind the Baines Libel actually was, since so much of it appears to have received attention after Marlowe's death.

If the above reading is joined with the Sedgwick reading, it is interesting that the whole concept of social structures still plays such an important role in shaping personal and historical perceptions. The idea of love as an emotion and desire as a structure was fascinating. If I read that correctly, the emotion of love operates within a structure formed by desire, and desire can be defined in many different ways. Homosocial interactions can be perceived as either promoting the health of a society or eroding the integrity of the primary structures. In traditional patriarchal societies, male interaction that promotes male aims is acceptable as long as sexual interaction is kept out of the mix. Homophobia, according to the text, is a necessity for preserving this structure. Condemnation of homosexual activity may not be necessary based on the Greek model of older men mentoring and supporting the careers of younger men and boys. Lesbianism is less threatening to the structure, because it does not directly threaten the patriarchal traditions. I remember one investigation that I was privy to in the Navy long before the "Don't ask: Don't tell" era. A friend of mine who was a lesbian had been called in to be interrogated for "illicit conduct." Several young men had already been investigated for the same thing, and they were being given a discharge from the service on the grounds of engaging in homosexual activities. After about an hour with the interrogators, she had asked them, "It seems that you are convinced that I am a lesbian. So why don't you just kick me out?" Their answer had outraged her. They told her that they thought she was a valuable sailor, and all that she really needed was to find herself a good man to turn her life around. For that reason, they were willing to give her another chance. One investigator had winked at her as she left the room.
All of that may sound like ancient history, but if we look at the prevalence of girl-on-girl action in literature and film today, it is clear that this is not viewed as especially threatening to male dominated structures. Guys still do not have that sort of "following". Maybe they are the lucky ones, and the outsider status is the one that holds the dignity.

I Hear Dead People

Perhaps it is simply a result of coming down off the post Halloween candy high, but I truly enjoyed the Greenblatt reading and Barry's analysis of new historicism which outlined Greenblatt's connections to and creation of that perspective.

The understanding of the concept of power in not only as "object" but "enabling condition of representation itself" was interesting considering that it was followed by a caution to not oversimplify the concept of power itself. Both princes and artists may have had aims for the use of this power, but the very monolithic structures that seemed to "totalize" the production of such works were filled with instability and contention: less the monolith and more the cultural Jello. This impresses me as a basic premise of Marxism. The rise and fall of structures of powers creating a new struggle for class within the reformed structures. Barry refers to this a "multiplicity of discourses" involved in the operation of power structures (170).

In the Greenblatt reading, the depiction of language as "the supreme instance of collective creation" that had been appropriated by a professional caste system claiming the exclusive rights to interpretation and dissemination was fascinating. Along with that, the image of the theater and plays as a means to reclaim that collective, communal sharing of language created an interesting link to humanist thought and to the discussion social energy as that force which keeps a work alive long after the death of the author and the demise of the historical/cultural milieu in which it was birthed. Perhaps I am still locked into last week's discussion of alchemy and the magic of Bourdieu, but all of that sounds like high spell-casting to me. The hard edges of actual history are softened because as Barry states, "for the aim is not to represent the past as it truly was, but to present a new reality by re-situating it (169)." The dead may not simply speak to us, but they may speak in new voices and with new messages.

Broke back camel

The straws have been adding up: plowing through as much of Bourdieu as I can in one week; finishing the book/ 1500 word book review/journal search and submissions; teaching 5 comp and one lit classes; engaging in the increasingly futile efforts to have time with my family; developing an anxiety neurosis over the as yet undefined"15 page scholarly paper" that is the final project. When I actually know what that is all about, I will have one month to crank it out (along with research to support 15 pages, course documents, more Berry, all Eagleton, 90 students, and more blogging). As I sat in front of the screen trying to think of something insightful or even marginally relevant to say about the material, as I tried to come up with a point to make, I heard this sad, snapping sound issue from somewhere in the middle of my back. Too many straws for one beast of burden.

All the world's a production (with apology to Will)

The Eagleton reading confirmed my speculation that Marxist theory relates to art as a product, and the interplay of history/ideology and text/production serves to identify the "internal relations to its 'world' ." As I read, I could not help but envision this relationship in terms of the Greek drama mask. The mask was both the signifier and, to some degree, the signified. It served to give the audience a point of reference. Beneath the mask was the human actor. If this person had removed the mask, the audience would have been at least a little confused. They would not immediately understand the intention or the message behind the action. The threads of the play would be lost, and the actor would not be recognized because he had been know only as that entity signified by the mask. In reference to Balzac,"..his art drives him to transcend his reactionary ideology and perceive the real historical issues at stake" (172). Perhaps all ideologies are merely masks that lend meaning to the cosmological audience. In that case, theoretical constructs are intended to be predominately referential . Maybe.

In search of an adequate umbrella

In the realm literary criticism and theory, it is rare that anyone creates anything new. Most of what we have been reading is based on theorists looking at existing phenomena and attempting to explain the foundations, origins, basis, or "essence" behind the works of others and behind social structures. In the most extreme speculation, there is a denial that such things even exist. There is no real structure or essence. All ideas about reality are artificial constructs that serve a limited and transient purpose. In Marxism, there is a shift back to finding that root/causal element which will explain a number of different--apparently unrelated--phenomena. That base was economy. All social interaction throughout history was to be viewed from the singular perspective of a struggle to control "production" in all of its aspects. The effects on the artistic world are a little blurry because, other than the move by the Communist government to suppress art that didn't toe the party line, Marx seemed to have thought very little about that. Perhaps art was simply another product to be controlled by a fluctuating hierarchy. There are a number of other isms seeking a base that is progressively more eccentric. The definition of a universal philosophy or cosmology based on single group perspective is the aim of many current theoretical approaches. Feminism is simply one more. However, there has been a not so subtle shift in the place and purpose of theoretical speculation. Marxist aims were to change the material world by changing the power base controlling the means of production. The more that people were "schooled" to see this perspective, the harder it would be for the old structures to stand. Unlike previous theorists who sought to understand and to explain, the Marxist sought to actively intervene. A part if this intervention involved the creation of a recognizable enemy of the "cause"--the Bourgeoisie.
The Hooks reading identifies the enemy as the sexist and the purpose of feminism/feminist cultural criticism is to identify and eradicate sexism (against women primarily). The sexist enemy can be either males coming from the old patriarchal structures or the privileged "white"(?) woman who has lost interest and identification with feminist theory because she now has access to the money and the power structures formerly in the tight grasp of the male controllers (are we back to Marxism here?). It is the purpose of feminist criticism and politics to educate the people to recognize the various forms of sexism that may manifest in all aspects of our shared existence. Unlike Marxism, feminism is acutely aware of the influence of the arts and makes them a focal point, as hooks points out in her exuberant proclamation at the beginning of the article. It seems to me that theory as a discipline and as pursuit into deeper meanings (or non-meaning) is becoming both more eccentric and more adversarial in nature. It almost seems that there is an attempt to regress to an "us v. them" mentality. Perhaps some of the earlier vagueness in the course was a good thing.

A loss for words

I really don't know what to say. These readings seem to be starting to rehash everything we have been talking about from the beginning. Issues of form and the purpose of literature and rhetoric (revealing the author, concealing the author, ignoring the author) are still with us. Marxist theory (in its various forms) seems more proactive than most with its stated purpose of not just understanding but changing reality. At least it acknowledges the existence of reality. It is paralleling the more spiritual Greeks who explain the ideal in the guise of the caste system of the utopian philosoper king. Marx denies the ideal and replaces it with the somewhat more mobile and material caste system of class struggle--more mobile in the sense that up sometimes winds up being down and vice versa. Then Althusser brings us right back to a decentered structure without essence or focus. It is all very much like a tail chasing its dog.

So, that's all folks. I am going to sign off now and go read the book that I have selected to review. It really is more interesting for me than this week's assignments, and I suspect it is more original, too.

Tech trouble

I do not know what is going on with the Jameson post. It is supposed to be below this one. It shows partial text, and if you left click after the last letter and drag the mouse, it does show the rest of the text. I have done everything I can to fix it, but nothing is working. If you all see a different screen, let me know.

Jameson and the Order of the Comfy Chair

I have to admit to an appreciation of the reading from "On Interpretation: Literature as a Socially Symbolic Act." It had an almost anti-climatic, post- resolution sense of ease after weeks of butting our heads against Truth (big "T", little "t", CAPITALIZED, italicized, bolded, and "quoted "T"). It was like a cool refreshing drink after the parching desert where nihilist "monks" chanted a decentralizing mantra of "Nada, Nada, all is Nada." I found myself reveling in phrases that identified a principle as "the absolute horizon of all reading and interpretation" (181). I rejoiced in the resurrection of the author in the forms of Dante, Milton, and Joyce. I, too, believe that "even archaic moments of the cultural past...do not go away just because we choose to ignore them" (182). To grasp this cultural past is to behold a mystery. This mystery not only possesses a center, it requires a unified "human adventure" in order to be truly comprehensible. I stood up and cheered the formula, "Our presupposition, in the analyses that follow, will be that only a genuine philosophy of history is capable of respecting the specificity and radical difference of the social and cultural past while disclosing the solidarity of its polemics and passions, its forms, structures, experiences, and struggles, with those of the present day. ..." (182). The extreme graciousness of Jameson was impressive in noting that other perspectives, though having merit, are in fact, "more specialized interpretive codes whose insights are strategically limited as much by their own situational origins as by the narrow or local ways in which they construe or construct their objects of study" (183). I almost wept with relief after so much energy has been expended over the futility of words and the ethereal nature of language when I read, "Indeed, no working model of the functioning of language, the nature of communication or of the speech act, and the dynamics of formal and stylistic change is conceivable which does not imply a whole philosophy of history. ..." (184). All is not truly relative; there really is a mysticism implied in language that transcends mere formulas. As Telleyrand is credited with observing: "language ... having been given to us in order to conceal our thoughts" (184). Ahh! This is incredibly warm and comfy. Can I please have some marshmallows with my hot chocolate?

Blinded by Science--or Something

In class last week, there was a lot of talk about things that seemed to appear in triads. The readings regarding structuralism and post- structuralism appear to continue this theme. In the mix is the presence of religion, even though not so conspicuously as in past readings. Religion strives to prove that there is "something" that centers the universe, and that man possesses an essence that is immutable and eternal. Philosophy (at least the philosophies discussed in the text which are firmly in the nihilist camp) frequently appears to argue that there is in fact nothing and that there is no center, no essence. Science tries to prove whether or not something either is or is not using a set of standards; however, even these standards are occasionally the subject of scientific inquiry. Religion fosters and expands its control through guilt and promises of reward. We are creatures of a god that is able to place at least a part of his word in us, and who gives us access to definitive powers. Philosophy removes the element of guilt from the occasion, and as the text states, replaces it with post-structuralist anxiety. We are not the creative word, but created by the word, and therefore, not in command of its powers. The reward is a relativistic euphoria where all is free-floating and unattached (60). Where there is no gravity, there is no real fear of falling. Science , or structuralism, attempts to remove both guilt and anxiety by examining that which may be known and identifying its "essence".
The two ends of the scale both require a great deal of faith in "the word". The world and all in it were spoken into being by a personified word. To believe this, an attitude of mind called faith is required. Philosophical post-structuralism
has a Big Bang theory that talks about language exploding "into multiplicities of meaning" (70). Post-structuralism is also described as an attitude of mind. This attitude of mind requires us to believe that a text possesses a "textual subconscious." A group of words that have no real meaning, always in a state of flux, contained within the confines of a piece of paper has a "subconscious" state--but no essence? That's one heck of a Credo. All the while the structuralists are trying to determine whether our texts (and ourselves) bang, wheeze, fizzle, or simply float away in the light of parallels, echoes, balances, patterns, symmetries, etc. Have we moved past the attempt to define and control truth into the more simple endeavor of trying to define and control reality?

Everything old is new again (?)

It never ceases to annoy me a little when I turn on the radio and a supposedly "new" hit is announced by the DJ, and once I hear the opening chords, I recognize instantly that this "new" smash hit was something I heard when I was twenty something. I have had several arguments with my sons about this, and it isn't until I dust off an old tape or find an oldies site with the original piece that they will believe that their music is more and more a product of remake. They do, however, make a valid point. The music isn't really the same. Sure, some of the words are the same, and there is a related structure in the melody, but there are substantial differences, too. The voices are different; the rhythm is altered, and the instruments are modern; same basic idea maybe, but a different framework for a different audience. This is the image running through my mind with Conley's discussion of the rediscovery of the Greek and Roman texts that had be sent into disuse, or never known after the fall of the Western Empire. An excitement over ideas is always energizing, and even after more than a half a millennium since the Renaissance, I can sense the impact that the discovery and translation of the texts had on the academic and philosophical communities of the day. And they really weren't the same. The "rhythms" changed in response to the times. As Conley points out, global discovery, along string of wars and wars continuing, religious upheaval--not to mention the population-reducing effects of the Black Plague--had altered human perception of some of the basic concepts discussed by the old Greeks and Romans. The voices being lifted in tribute to this new interest in eloquence carried a different pitch, if not a different message. The reinterpretation of a revered text is almost a certainty when it passes through multigenerational filters. The discovery of the unknown texts and the text thought to be lost added the illusion of newness to the discussion. I have a friend who is a Rabbi, and we were discussing the book of Deuteronomy in the Torah. He informed me that there were several written deuteronomies, and this was simply the most ancient of the preserved documents. The basic law and cultural had to be revisited and revised by each generation in order to keep it applicable to the current setting and meaningful to the people living throughout time. The law and the culture had to be "rediscovered" in a modern context. This seems to be what the Renaissance scholars did with the concepts of rhetoric. They seem to have melded some of the Greek fascination with eloquence for its own sake with the Roman (Cicero and Quintilian) recognition that rhetoric must have a practical end as well. Augustine in his discussion of styles for the purpose of "entertainment and delight" as well as for catechises was in harmony with the Greek schools and was true to his background as a classical educator. He does introduce the concept of the importance of the moral character of the speaker in relationship to the persuasive power of his words: "But the life of the speaker has greater force to make him persuasive than the grandeur of his eloquence. . . " (Matsen 376). Erasmus, also an educator, claims that "the end of education was the development of eloquent persons of character" (Conley 121). In Folly
the stress is on wisdom rather than the search for Truth. In this, Erasmus is in line with the other Renaissance scholars. In his refutation of Luther's claims against the existence of free will, Erasmus is Socratic, not stating or arguing facts, but asking questions about what might be reasonable to believe. His admiration of Agricola may be evident here, too. Agricola's claim that dialectic is superior to rhetoric because dialectic deals with invention and rhetoric only deals with delivery is curious, because he also claims that this separation is merely apparent in many ways. "Dialectic is at its heart rhetorical, able to invent arguments that move audiences as well as instruct them--that is, which persuade them" (Conley 127). Erasmus --even though never claiming to be or being recognized as a professional rhetorician-- appears to do both --invent and persuade. The humanistic themes in rhetoric that are found in Folly continue throughout his work, as does the combining of ideas about dialectic/rhetoric which is found in many works even in the 18th century.

Last week another student made a speculative comment about the right of the educated and privileged minority to make decisions about the morality to be practiced by the masses. That was being done throughout the period covered by the readings. The only true shift appears to have been in the population that was considered to be the educated and privileged minority. It shifted from the philosopher and statesman to cleric. Priests and members of various religious orders claimed the right to interpret both wisdom and Truth for the people. As far back as Cicero, the thought that "rhetoric is an alternative to the use of force" (Conley 110) was expressed by those who saw it as a tool to humanize the rather inhumane conditions of the common man. It is interesting that Conley also points out that for the majority of people during the time of the Renaissance, the common occupation was fighting--for conquest or for survival--and not the more productive activities of commerce and agriculture. What difference did all the fine words bandied about under porticoes, from porches and pulpits really make? How significant were men who were perhaps more focused on impressing their cronies than on changing the lot of the world for all those unwashed masses? Who was listening to them amid the burnings and flayings inflicted by both the Catholic and the Protestant communities on their opponents? Who evaluated the fine delivery of lofty phrases while dying on a battlefield in one of the countless wars spanning the centuries? How truly significant are all their theories about form and delivery today when it comes to using "rhetoric as an alternative to force"? "Oh," the argument goes, "without them and their ideas, their endless ponderings, and continual episodes of philosophical bombast, the world would be in much worse shape." And we know this, how? Because someone told us so while we were sitting in a classroom? Because we read about it in a well-documented, scholarly book, and therefore, it must be true? I have always harbored the suspicion that if all the orators, philosophers, and theologians had invested as much time in teaching the common folk how to read learned works for themselves as they did in their good- old - boy BS sessions--well--there might be less BS to deal with. If they had written down the ideas and shared them with those newly literate masses, the social advances attributed to them and their ideas may have occurred more quickly than they did. Treating knowledge as the property of an educated few can only cripple true progress. The Renaissance could have happened five hundred years sooner. Every semester I walk into several classrooms and look out on many faces. It doesn't take long for me to realize that educated old me, going into the 6th comfortable decade of life, has forgotten more than my students may ever know. This is not because I am super smart or because my students are in any way intellectually inferior. It is because so much of their energy is being directed to fighting: fighting against the decline of family structures in which they are either the baby born to babies, or the baby raising babies alone; fighting against the growing violence and abuse that threatens to blow our globe apart; fighting against the temptation to easy money in crime and gangs; fighting against the momentary solace of substances; fighting against the humiliation of having to wait for 10 hours in an emergency room and then facing the contemptuous attitudes of health care providers who simply see them as "the uninsured. What use will all my fine words and well-turned phrases be to them? Looking through the rosy colored lens of my humanistic cosmology, I would like to believe that their presence in my classroom means that they are on the ladder up and out of all of that. I do not know if that will really happen or not. All I know for a certainty about my students is that they will surely keep on fighting. Everything that is old is new again. Such is my soapbox.

We will assimilate you

The readings this week cover a period that I find personally fascinating. The spread of a language, a culture, a system of religion,and a set of political ideas by military conquest and aggressive exploration seems to go back to the discussion that started last week's class. Why was the military man Odysseus condemned for manipulation through oratory that led to the death of a comrade? The power of the military to shape cultures through the practical interaction of conqueror and the conquered has always been enormous, and the example of Alexander is only one of many. The reshaping of the world by the Roman soldiery and the spread of Islamic culture and religion by conquest are two more. Let's not even get started on British colonialism. The Philosopher King of the Republic may have in fact found its actual manifestation in the person of the Philosopher General. Even though Alexander and Julius may not be regarded as true philosophers, both would have received some degree of the enkyklios paideia described in the text and both were skilled speakers--whether or not they would have been called orators by the popular schools of the day, I do not really know. They certainly could inspire the troops and the common populous. Their intrusions onto the world scene reshaped the intellectual, spiritual, and political landscapes of the globe. So the power and spread of philosophy and and rhetoric may have relied on the insight and integrity of the military whose overt function is conquest, domination, and assimilation of other cultures.Even though this may not be stated in the texts, it is certainly implied in the historical chronologies that are presented. Conley points out the gradual assimilation of pagan rhetoric into Christian rhetoric/apologetics. Augustine and other church doctors were suspicious of the principles of rhetoric taught in the Greek and Roman schools, but by the end of the fourth century both the principles and methodologies of those schools were being used by the church in the evangelism of pagan societies . As the religion spread and became the dominant influence, these ideas spread as well. Maybe the strains of "Onward Christian Soldiers" carry more of history than might be imagined.



As a composition teacher, I took exception to the readings last week that essentially said that any idiot could write. This week I felt validated by the breakdown of the art of rhetoric into five components and the analysis of a speech into five parts. These elements continue today as the basis for evaluating the strength of exposition/expository writing. Hermagoras' stasis theory also seems to open up a modern parallel in the current academic infatuation with and demand for "sources" to establish the credibility of a work--"applicable arguments drawn from the appropriate 'places' "(32), sure sounds like sources to me.



A parting question--Does anyone else notice the absence of the Cynics up to this point in our discussion of topics common to rhetorical development? Granted, they were rather outlandish, but Antisthenes was one of Socrates' more prominent students. Much of what Aristotle presents in his Polis seems like a reaction against the Cynics' demand for self-sufficiency and self-reliance even at the cost of social conventions and approval. The Cynics had little use for speculative philosophies and saw the good life and virtue in terms of the natural and the practical--an ideal that the text ascribes to both Cicero and to Quintilian. Cicero saw the Cynics as somewhat ridiculous, but they were the group that sowed the seeds for the development of Stoicism, an influence that would have been in harmony with the stated/written sentiments of both Cicero and Caesar. The positions that the Cynics took on self-discipline, material simplicity, and moral responsibility based on natural laws are echoed in the Gospels, the Pauline epistles, and the teachings/rhetoric of the Christian ascetics. So where are they--those radical BCE hippies?

I recently heard one of those hallway conversations that transpire in a college during the between class crunch time. A student was discussing a schedule change that would drop a logic course and add a psychology course. The listener wanted to know why such a change was necessary. The response went something like this: "Psychology teaches me things that I can actually use. Logic sucks and is completely useless." I immediately formed the opinion that this student has a potentially brilliant future in the field of politics. I believe that that Isocrates would agree with my assessment based on his statement from the Conley text. "It is much better to form probable opinions about useful things than to have exact knowledge of useless things" (Helen 5). That interplay of personal/popular opinion and impersonal/immutable fact seems to be the dynamic that drives rhetorical evolution in the current readings. There is a usefulness in rhetoric. It has ends. If it is an art, it is an applied, practical art. I almost see it as a craft. The essential forms of Plato simply are. They exist before and beyond the strictly human level of awareness. The aim of humanity is one of discovery of the forms. We may explore their meanings and significance, but they are truly grasped by only an elite. That elite audience may have understanding, but that understanding does not allow for change. I think this dichotomy between flexibility and immutability marked the two speeches of Obama and Dobson that we heard in class.



I think it is interesting that the Conley text begins a description of societies in crisis and transition. Old social and political structures were being overthrown, and the introduction of radical ideas and radically new situations were the normal conditions of the day. I was especially charmed by the notion that there were no lawyers. Everyone had to plead his own case, and persuasion of the judge was the ultimate goal--a real field day for the proponents of rhetoric. According to Augustine in Christian Doctrine, persuasion is the end of eloquence (Readings 374), and delivery of arguments in what Augustine referred to as grand style would go far in winning one's case. Plato's Socrates confronts Gorgias with a claim that the notion of teaching rhetoric was both confusing and dangerous (Rhetoric 9), but apparently the need to address legal issues created a whole new job market for speech writers. In Phaedrus, Socrates is angry over the attempts of unqualified teachers to teach the principles of rhetoric to people who are too ignorant to comprehend the nature of the art (Readings 86). I remember the time back in the 50's and early 60's. when knowing the steps to certain popular dances was considered critical to maintaining social status. Arthur Murray dance studios sprang up with the vigor of mushrooms all over the country. One such establishment was by my home. I used to watch through the front glass window of the studio as people of all sorts moved about the dance floor, frequently tripping over their own feet, and silently mouthing the "1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4" pattern of the dance. Not dancing. I can imagine that those courtroom arguments by peasants and farmers,who had been instructed in Arturous Murphros's studio of rhetoric, proceeded with a similar level of grace. Not rhetoric.



All such speculation is fun, until someone loses an eye--or perhaps his or her society. Even though there is considerable difference between the approaches of Gorgias and Protogoras, both rely on the manipulation of opinion (doxa) by playing the psychology of the crowd (remember the young student at the beginning?). Gorgias requires a somewhat passive, "beguiled" audience. Protagoras wants the "team" approach--wants his listeners to be "onboard" with the ideas. Doxa has a down side regardless of how it is formed, e.g., the disastrous public opinion that sent the Athenian general Alcibiades on a doomed military campaign based on his ability to give the people what they wanted to hear, rather than on his actual battle plans. Even though Aristotle believed that politics (and I would assume political rhetoric) should be based in reason, it still seems that rhetoric that either flatters our egos or relieves our pain is what is considered persuasive. That might be dangerous. Augustine brings the entire style issue into play with his subdued, moderate, and grand approaches. The first two are aimed at those who need simply to be "enlightened" to be motivated to respond to the prompts of the speaker. The last represents the "big guns" approach, and is aimed at the listener who knows what should be done, but is reluctant to do it. To my reading, we seem to playing with the lines between entertainment and inspiration. Applause alone is not a significant indicator of the success of the rhetoric. Compliance is the end goal. There was a lot of applause at President Obama's speeches both before the campaign, during the campaign, and since his election. He certainly entertains us, and he certainly persuaded Americans to vote for him in unprecedented numbers. But how has that really changed what the voters do after the applause has faded? Are we essentially a culture moving toward change, or are we still motivated by the fear that was supposedly the legacy of the last administration? Did we respond to the images of change and being a part of a team because we as a people needed to hear that? Dobson on the other hand--even though he sometimes is not applauded by even his own "people"--has a record of getting things done. He has an organization that influences how people think, respond, and believe on some very fundamental levels. Whether or not he is liked by the majority, it cannot be denied that he is a force to be acknowledged. He inspires compliance from a great many listeners. So, if persuasion is the end of eloquence, and the formation of opinion is tested by the emergence of compliant actions, who has a record for being the most skilled rhetorician?