Sunday, April 11, 2010
Thinking again on the idea of rhetoric as a(nti-)historical, and how that connects to an idea, perhaps more prevalent in comp/rhet than in comm (?) that the proper object of study for the historian of rhetoric is the history of rhetorical instruction. I want to pin this on Sharon Crowley, though I may be off there--it more just strikes me as an idea that saturates. But if indeed we take rhetoric as somehow operating in a different register (at the least) than history--if it is indeed an absolute continuity or solidity that sees itself outside of time, as Barthes suggests (or as I keep reading an earlier post of Christopher's as suggesting that Barthes suggests)--does that make more or less palatable the desire to somehow link up contemporary pedagogical concerns with historical precedent? This is a move that's sort of (anecdotally at least) standard in comp/rhet, I think it's fair to say. Susan Jarratt does this in the last chapter or two of Rereading the Sophists, and in a very sophisticated way. Others do so in a more pro-forma way, perhaps as an effort to legitimize historical work, or make it relevant, or get it published. But maybe there's a way to make this move more intellectually radical, perhaps by suggesting or emphasizing the very ahistorical nature of rhetoric?
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In response, still preliminarily, to the Barthes citation and our comments on it—some of the minimal assumptions that we make when we call something “rhetoric” are: 1) that it is similar enough to other things that have been called “rhetoric” to warrant the same name; 2) that “rhetoric” is distinct enough from other things to warrant its own name; and 3) that we can draw this distinction. To say that we are still producing rhetoric after 2,500 years does not necessarily entail that this concept is entirely ahistorical; it could instead refer to a tradition that has evolved over time but retained enough similarities to warrant ignoring the differences. It is easy to call work “rhetorical” when it explicitly refers to key texts or concepts from the dominant tradition—when, for example, Barthes cites Aristotle’s definition of rhetoric. It is more difficult when work that shares many of the same themes is explicitly opposed to the tradition or introduces a new vocabulary¬—as, for example, in Barthes’ writings on semiotics. When he makes a distinction between rhetoric and écriture he is doing philosophical work on the history of these concepts.
ReplyDeleteStudying “rhetorical” objects is a different enterprise, but similar assumptions are at work. It is easy to call a political speech “rhetorical”—and analyze it as such—when it directly follows the conventions of antiquity. It is more difficult when it neither follows such conventions nor has any direct connection to them. Suggesting that we should consider comic books to be rhetorical objects would also require philosophical work in the history of this concept. Chronicling how the reading of comic books changed our concept of rhetoric would require historical work on how others have thought and philosophized about rhetoric. I suspect that studies of rhetorical instruction generally fall into this category. On the other hand, analyzing particular speeches or comic books on the basis of an established concept of rhetoric—even in relation to the context in which they were produced—would not necessarily require either philosophical work or any history of ideas. It could involve instead a philosophically and historically informed reading that remains unphilosophical and ahistorical in its engagement with the concept of rhetoric. Studies of rhetorical instruction could also fall into this category.
Yes, I like the idea that how we reposition the term 'rhetoric' gives some indication oft he extent to which we are doing pilosophical or historical work--thanks for that careful point.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I think I follow the distinction you're making there in the second paragraph, but just to be clear: how does that distinction differ from just calling the first approach ("how the reading of comic books changed our concept of rhetoric") a diachronic and the second ("analyzing particular speeches or comic books on the basis of an established concept of rhetoric—even in relation to the context in which they were produced") a synchronic history?
There are doubtless several ways to describe this distinction, and the second approach could certainly involve historical work. I may not understand, however, what a synchronic history of ideas would involve. For me, the distinction is made by examining the historical contingency relative to the trancendence of ideas instead of assuming one or the other.
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