[This is from Carina.]
1. The fourth chapter of Vives' discussion of young women's education makes several assertions about the moral character of knowledge--perhaps about the correspondence or lack thereof between language and truth. Vives clearly wishes to argue that knowledge is, in point of fact, a moral force, and to suggest that educating women will moralize them: "It would be to our
advantage to have at least a knowledge of good to protect us from the constant onslaught of evil ... when [your daughter] is assailed by vice, to which she has grow accustomed, what protection will be afforded by moral rectitude, which she never came to know?" (19-20). Vives argues that women need education in goodness to protect them from sin. He writes, "The woman who has learned to make 'reflections' will never bring herself to commit any vile act, for her mind will have been strengthened and imbued with holy counsels" (21).
But the difficulty in this position derives from that fact that it is, in Vives' observation, entirely possible to learn evil and not good. Therefore, learning cannot be said to be an absolutely positive moral force. In order to resolve this dilemma, Vives defines only certain applications of the intellect as knowledge, excluding others. Those that count as learning are: "the study of wisdom," "books that impart instruction in morals," and "that part of philosophy that has assumed as its task the formation and improvement of morals" (28-29). Those that are not included: "idle verses or vain and frivolous ditties," and "eloquence," which in abeyance to Paul his Christian woman will have no need of. By this judgment or division, Vives makes a one-to-one correlation between knowledge and truth--where truth is revealed and is thus also perfectly moral--possible.
2. Religious Humanism strikes me as an attempt to reconcile the issue of where truth comes from. The "religious" part of the movement has to locate truth in scripture, which is divine and above question, or beyond logic. "Humanism" complicates this, because it values individual reason, the kind of knowledge that is discovered. A Religious Humanist work has to walk a tightrope between the two, and I suspect that that tension drives a lot of the philosophy.
Sor Juana defers to scripture as fundamental truth, but she approaches it with more logic than reverence. She's trying to understand it, not merely to accept it, and she finds her reading of the text to be in disagreement at times with the Church. Vives seems to me to be much more reliant on the more image-driven or mythological parts of the bible--note his references to the devil. He goes into discourse with many assumptions as to the universal characteristics of women as a group, and does not reveal his reasoning for accepting them. Several times, as with the Pauline rule against women's speech, he seems to struggle with them. They are, perhaps, pieces of implicit knowledge. Erasmus looks to the learned traditions of both the Church and of the Classics, but he seems to take them not on faith but on persuasion. Erasmus also gives a great deal of power to the listener/reader in their own persuasion through his dominant image of "richness." Could we
say that Erasmus locates truth in the process of discourse?
30 September 2009
On Vives, Cruz, and Pizan
1) From the start of Chapter IV, Vives is clearly arguing for a knowledge of good. He laments: "Would that it were possible to lead our lives in the midst of so many evil people and remain ignorant of evil" (63). So "evil," as he explains earlier, is not something we need bother to teach. Evil will out. It's knowledge of the good, apparently, that deserves our extra attention if we are to be protected from "the constant onslaught of evil" (63). For Vives, education (the right sort, of course) has the capacity to strengthen our minds and "imbue" them with "holy counsels" (65), so as to resist the temptations of evil. Indeed, as he so pointedly remarks, "You will not easily find an evil woman unless she be one who is ignorant..." (65). Let this be a lesson to us, friends.
2) De la Cruz, like Vives, seems to identify a relationship between education and goodness, her primary goal being to "study, so as to become less ignorant" (788). Her writing (and perhaps even her life) suggest a virtuousness to learning, which, were we to use her "Respuesta" to historicize religious humanism, indicates that this movement may be characterized by such a link. Pizan, on the other hand, while certainly identifying the role of morality in courtly life, conflates many of these moral standards with women (e.g. compassion, pity, humility) rather than women's education. While in "City of Ladies" she certainly advocates for the education of women, this opportunity is framed always as having the encouragement and patronage of men (e.g. learned fathers). Many women would certainly have to strive to maintain these mores, as suggested by her recommendation that one avoid gossiping, etc., but one does not seem to need an education to be moral.
2) De la Cruz, like Vives, seems to identify a relationship between education and goodness, her primary goal being to "study, so as to become less ignorant" (788). Her writing (and perhaps even her life) suggest a virtuousness to learning, which, were we to use her "Respuesta" to historicize religious humanism, indicates that this movement may be characterized by such a link. Pizan, on the other hand, while certainly identifying the role of morality in courtly life, conflates many of these moral standards with women (e.g. compassion, pity, humility) rather than women's education. While in "City of Ladies" she certainly advocates for the education of women, this opportunity is framed always as having the encouragement and patronage of men (e.g. learned fathers). Many women would certainly have to strive to maintain these mores, as suggested by her recommendation that one avoid gossiping, etc., but one does not seem to need an education to be moral.
Vives' Concept of Moral Education
Hi All,
I took Vives' concept of moral education and ran with:
“[L]et her begin by learning things that contribute to the cultivation of the mind and the care and management of the home” (58).
Women’s education is vital the well being of the state, since Vives views education more narrowly as “moral education” in two different senses. First, education can be used as a direct moralizing force, teaching women what is right and how to act properly: “The learning that I should wish to be made available to the whole human race is sober and chaste; it forms our character and renders us better” (64.
Second, education can confer skills that contribute to an overall good, mostly in domestic management. The moral health of the state is reflected in the moral health of the household. An example of this is Vives’ stern espousal that women learn to cook well:
“cooking, for it is an art of great necessity” (61)…”And I have come to the conclusion that the principal reason why men here in Belgium spend so much time in inns and taverns is the negligence and laziness of their women in cooking meals, which forces me to avoid their own homes and seek elsewhere what they do not find there” (62).
What we see is that cooking, while itself a skill and not a form of moral instruction, has a moral result of creating a sustainable household by keeping men out of inns and taverns. A “steadfast and chaste” (70) woman must, according to Vives, both be instructed in moral behavior and skilled in tasks with positive moral results.
I took Vives' concept of moral education and ran with:
“[L]et her begin by learning things that contribute to the cultivation of the mind and the care and management of the home” (58).
Women’s education is vital the well being of the state, since Vives views education more narrowly as “moral education” in two different senses. First, education can be used as a direct moralizing force, teaching women what is right and how to act properly: “The learning that I should wish to be made available to the whole human race is sober and chaste; it forms our character and renders us better” (64.
Second, education can confer skills that contribute to an overall good, mostly in domestic management. The moral health of the state is reflected in the moral health of the household. An example of this is Vives’ stern espousal that women learn to cook well:
“cooking, for it is an art of great necessity” (61)…”And I have come to the conclusion that the principal reason why men here in Belgium spend so much time in inns and taverns is the negligence and laziness of their women in cooking meals, which forces me to avoid their own homes and seek elsewhere what they do not find there” (62).
What we see is that cooking, while itself a skill and not a form of moral instruction, has a moral result of creating a sustainable household by keeping men out of inns and taverns. A “steadfast and chaste” (70) woman must, according to Vives, both be instructed in moral behavior and skilled in tasks with positive moral results.
29 September 2009
Mary's Mini-trace
Here are my responses to Vives, de la Cruz, and Pizan.
#1 In the third chapter of Vives' book, I see several passages that suggest that women's education is beneficial to the State and that education ought to be available to women of all social classes:
a)Vives praises several well-known women, ancient and contemporary, for their diligence and skill in spinning, weaving, and needlework: Hannah (Samuel's mother), Penelope, the Macedonian queens, Queen Isabella of Spain, and Catherine of Aragon. By commending these aristocratic women for mastering an accomplishment that some might consider plebian, Vives implies that education (in textile work, at least) should be available to both upper and lower-class women.
b)In advocating the study of cooking, Vives blames Belgian men's fondness for taverns on the "negligence and laziness of their women in cooking meals." Hence, Vives suggests that women's ignorance of cooking can contribute to men's laziness and neglect of their families, and, indirectly, to the instability of the nation.
#2 In the writings of Pizan and de la Cruz, much of the speaker's authority comes from repeated appeals to scriptural passages and to prominent church authorities--both well-known figures such as Jerome (B/H 786) and the generic "mistress's confessor" (B/H 550). The salient difference is in the uses the two authors make of the evidence. While Pizan uses Biblical evidence unquestioningly to reinforce truths widely accepted ("By long forbearing is a prince persuaded"; "Love thy neighbor as thyself,") de la Cruz encourages her readers to approach the Scriptures more critically--not to challenge the infallibility of the Bible itself, but to inquire into the cultural contexts in which its authors wrote, and, if necessary, to challenge common interpretations.
#1 In the third chapter of Vives' book, I see several passages that suggest that women's education is beneficial to the State and that education ought to be available to women of all social classes:
a)Vives praises several well-known women, ancient and contemporary, for their diligence and skill in spinning, weaving, and needlework: Hannah (Samuel's mother), Penelope, the Macedonian queens, Queen Isabella of Spain, and Catherine of Aragon. By commending these aristocratic women for mastering an accomplishment that some might consider plebian, Vives implies that education (in textile work, at least) should be available to both upper and lower-class women.
b)In advocating the study of cooking, Vives blames Belgian men's fondness for taverns on the "negligence and laziness of their women in cooking meals." Hence, Vives suggests that women's ignorance of cooking can contribute to men's laziness and neglect of their families, and, indirectly, to the instability of the nation.
#2 In the writings of Pizan and de la Cruz, much of the speaker's authority comes from repeated appeals to scriptural passages and to prominent church authorities--both well-known figures such as Jerome (B/H 786) and the generic "mistress's confessor" (B/H 550). The salient difference is in the uses the two authors make of the evidence. While Pizan uses Biblical evidence unquestioningly to reinforce truths widely accepted ("By long forbearing is a prince persuaded"; "Love thy neighbor as thyself,") de la Cruz encourages her readers to approach the Scriptures more critically--not to challenge the infallibility of the Bible itself, but to inquire into the cultural contexts in which its authors wrote, and, if necessary, to challenge common interpretations.
Religious Humanism: a mini-trace and a synthesis
Hello, everyone.
Here are the two activities we did not get to during Thursday's class discussion (9/24) on Vives and de la Cruz. I'd say, tackle them as if you would have tackled them while we were in class--focusedly, but briefly. You need not write a lengthy exposition in response to each question; just get yourself to a point of realization, and share that realization with us.
1) This is how Fantazzi--the editor of Vives' Education of a Christian Woman--generally characterizes this rhetorical treatise and some of Vives' other training manuals for women pupils (Fantazzi, "Introduction" 1-40):
--advocated education for all women regardless of social class and ability
--argued that women were intellectually equal if not superior to men
--promoted universal education of women, even those who showed no natural aptitude for learning
--argued that women's proper education was essential to the well-being of the state
--distinguished between real “learning” and superficial belletristic knowledge
--argued that ignorance (not knowledge) fostered evil
What evidence can you find for one or more of these arguments in the following? (Select only one option below for your mini-trace.) How consistently is it argued?
Chapters I-III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
2) Let's say we had only two ways to historicize and understand "religious humanism" as a movement:
--noting differences between Pizan and de la Cruz in terms of textual features, how writers establish authority, key claims and assumptions, and what counts as evidence
--taking Erasmus, Vives, and de la Cruz as a collective and explaining how they could represent the same tradition in terms of the above
Pick one of these two ways and offer a brief historicization of your own.
Good luck and have fun with this.
-Tarez
Here are the two activities we did not get to during Thursday's class discussion (9/24) on Vives and de la Cruz. I'd say, tackle them as if you would have tackled them while we were in class--focusedly, but briefly. You need not write a lengthy exposition in response to each question; just get yourself to a point of realization, and share that realization with us.
1) This is how Fantazzi--the editor of Vives' Education of a Christian Woman--generally characterizes this rhetorical treatise and some of Vives' other training manuals for women pupils (Fantazzi, "Introduction" 1-40):
--advocated education for all women regardless of social class and ability
--argued that women were intellectually equal if not superior to men
--promoted universal education of women, even those who showed no natural aptitude for learning
--argued that women's proper education was essential to the well-being of the state
--distinguished between real “learning” and superficial belletristic knowledge
--argued that ignorance (not knowledge) fostered evil
What evidence can you find for one or more of these arguments in the following? (Select only one option below for your mini-trace.) How consistently is it argued?
Chapters I-III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
2) Let's say we had only two ways to historicize and understand "religious humanism" as a movement:
--noting differences between Pizan and de la Cruz in terms of textual features, how writers establish authority, key claims and assumptions, and what counts as evidence
--taking Erasmus, Vives, and de la Cruz as a collective and explaining how they could represent the same tradition in terms of the above
Pick one of these two ways and offer a brief historicization of your own.
Good luck and have fun with this.
-Tarez
27 September 2009
Promised quasi-etymology from Augustine Bk. IV
Jeff and others, here is the etymology I promised.
I was at first inclined to post this in response to Jeff's question about the role of predestination in Augustine's Book IV, but it would have made a lengthy and insufficient response; as well, I didn't want to steer that conversation in a direction unintended by Jeff.
Circuitus
In Sister Sullivan's translation in B/H this appears simply as "period", which offers a somewhat misleading interpretation of Greek periodos. What I'll show below is a quasi-development of two terms simultaneously: periodos and ambitus, since both had in some way influenced Augustine's use of circuitus in Book IV.
1) Greek peri-hodos (“around”-“a going, way, journey”)
2) Greek periodos
3) Latin circuit / ambit ("going around")
3) Latin periodos "complete cycle"
5) Augustine circuitus (via Quintilian)
For Augustine: two or more membra where the rhythm is suspended/held at the end of each phrase except on the last phrase. The introduction to D.W. Robertson's translation helped me discern this. Robertson notes that Sullivan's translation tends to replace the oral convention (for which we have no modern-day equivalent in English) with the closest equivalent in written punctuation. This is not altogether inaccurate, given that we will likely see some conventions from medieval oral delivery as having been transferred onto the punctuation mark that denotes them in written discourse.
Membra
For Augustine: a membrum contains a complete meaning and complete rhythm by itself, but not when it is considered in relation to the whole sentence (Robertson xix). Again, the introduction to Robertson's translation helped me discern this. Previously, I had equated membrum with something like "independent clause," probably because I was always looking to the written translation of Augustine's examples to try to understand the convention. (Duh.) Sullivan notes the Greek kola as membra's earliest origin.
Caesa
As above, I'll try to show a quasi-development of two terms, kommata and caesellum, since both had in some way influenced Augustine's use of caesa in Book IV, although this is by no means an authoritative trace! Sullivan and Robertson note the Greek kommata as caesa's earliest origin.
1) Greek kommata ("pieces which are cut off")
2) Latin caesellum (dim. of caesus "to have cut")
3) Latin cisellum (vernacular use for "cutting tool")
4) Augustine caesum / incisum (via Quintilian)
For Augustine, this was an expression that contains a complete meaning but is delivered with a suspended rhythm (perhaps to denote exchange, invite completion, suggest reciprocity?).
-Tarez
I was at first inclined to post this in response to Jeff's question about the role of predestination in Augustine's Book IV, but it would have made a lengthy and insufficient response; as well, I didn't want to steer that conversation in a direction unintended by Jeff.
Circuitus
In Sister Sullivan's translation in B/H this appears simply as "period", which offers a somewhat misleading interpretation of Greek periodos. What I'll show below is a quasi-development of two terms simultaneously: periodos and ambitus, since both had in some way influenced Augustine's use of circuitus in Book IV.
1) Greek peri-hodos (“around”-“a going, way, journey”)
2) Greek periodos
3) Latin circuit / ambit ("going around")
3) Latin periodos "complete cycle"
5) Augustine circuitus (via Quintilian)
For Augustine: two or more membra where the rhythm is suspended/held at the end of each phrase except on the last phrase. The introduction to D.W. Robertson's translation helped me discern this. Robertson notes that Sullivan's translation tends to replace the oral convention (for which we have no modern-day equivalent in English) with the closest equivalent in written punctuation. This is not altogether inaccurate, given that we will likely see some conventions from medieval oral delivery as having been transferred onto the punctuation mark that denotes them in written discourse.
Membra
For Augustine: a membrum contains a complete meaning and complete rhythm by itself, but not when it is considered in relation to the whole sentence (Robertson xix). Again, the introduction to Robertson's translation helped me discern this. Previously, I had equated membrum with something like "independent clause," probably because I was always looking to the written translation of Augustine's examples to try to understand the convention. (Duh.) Sullivan notes the Greek kola as membra's earliest origin.
Caesa
As above, I'll try to show a quasi-development of two terms, kommata and caesellum, since both had in some way influenced Augustine's use of caesa in Book IV, although this is by no means an authoritative trace! Sullivan and Robertson note the Greek kommata as caesa's earliest origin.
1) Greek kommata ("pieces which are cut off")
2) Latin caesellum (dim. of caesus "to have cut")
3) Latin cisellum (vernacular use for "cutting tool")
4) Augustine caesum / incisum (via Quintilian)
For Augustine, this was an expression that contains a complete meaning but is delivered with a suspended rhythm (perhaps to denote exchange, invite completion, suggest reciprocity?).
-Tarez
22 September 2009
City of Ladies and Other Cities
Just a few thoughts: It recently (as in 2 minutes ago) came to my attention that Augustine wrote "The City of God," in which there are two opposing cities, the City of God and the City of Man (City of the World?). While I know virtually none of the specifics, it seems clear that Christine de Pizan was echoing and responding to a kind of conversation here, or even echoing a textual/rhetorical tradition. Apparently de Pizan's City of Ladies is construed as a more redemptive, restorative site, as opposed the depraved and sinful City of Man posed by Augustine, but it does make me wonder what we've missed in our BH-selected Augustinian readings... And while I know we've moved on to Erasmus and others, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to continue considering the extent to which these rhetors (the women, especially) are complicating and re-appropriating dominant discourses and formations.
16 September 2009
Augustine and Predestination
Greetings all. This post is more of a continued conversation that started with Prof. Graban after class on Tuesday, wandered into my bookshelf at my apartment, was emailed around and has now ended up here:
Augustine states that even a good sermon may not reach an audience. In pedagogical terms it boils down to: "Some people will just never get it." In a Christian context, I immediately thought that this might imply the concept of Predestination. For the sake of brevity, here's a quick sketch:
Only certain people predetermined by God to be considered good will be granted entrance into heaven. Everyone else is, well, damned to hell and (sometimes) purgatory.
Predestination had a major foothold among Calvinists (16th c. and on). Though it gained popularity much later, Predestination among a plethora of other beliefs pervaded early Christianity in the time of Augustine (including Manicheanish, Gnosticism, etc). These many beliefs persisted even for a time after the Council of Nicea (325 AD), which unified a lot of basic Christian beliefs.
Referring to the Oxford Illustrated Guide to Christianity, it states that Augustine propounded extreme ideas of predestination late in life. Since the last chapter of De Doctrina was written only 4 years before his death, I surmise that Augustine really could be implying Predestination here, which in my opinion greatly complicates the idea of "pleasing, informing, and enlightening the audience."
Sorry this got a little long, but I would love some more thoughts on this.
Augustine states that even a good sermon may not reach an audience. In pedagogical terms it boils down to: "Some people will just never get it." In a Christian context, I immediately thought that this might imply the concept of Predestination. For the sake of brevity, here's a quick sketch:
Only certain people predetermined by God to be considered good will be granted entrance into heaven. Everyone else is, well, damned to hell and (sometimes) purgatory.
Predestination had a major foothold among Calvinists (16th c. and on). Though it gained popularity much later, Predestination among a plethora of other beliefs pervaded early Christianity in the time of Augustine (including Manicheanish, Gnosticism, etc). These many beliefs persisted even for a time after the Council of Nicea (325 AD), which unified a lot of basic Christian beliefs.
Referring to the Oxford Illustrated Guide to Christianity, it states that Augustine propounded extreme ideas of predestination late in life. Since the last chapter of De Doctrina was written only 4 years before his death, I surmise that Augustine really could be implying Predestination here, which in my opinion greatly complicates the idea of "pleasing, informing, and enlightening the audience."
Sorry this got a little long, but I would love some more thoughts on this.
07 September 2009
Fish, Turpin, B/H, and historiography--how it all ties in.
For my first post, I'd like to return to the discussion we started to have in class on 9/3, just before diving into our "practice trace" of dissoi logoi. Jon and Jerrell, this is mainly for you, inspired by my guilty feelings for speeding too quickly through the discussion. But of course, this has bearing on the whole class.
If you remember, I brought up Jerrell's e-mail about Stanley Fish on the tails of responding to one of Jeff's discussion questions, in which he expressed a desire to see Bizzell/Herzberg more explicitly note the glossing of rhetoric's relationship to other disciplines that seems to occur in their anthology (i.e., these relationships aren't capitalized upon enough in their anthology, although the texts span ~2000 years). I think we agreed. In response to Jeff, I suggested that we think about some potential benefits of B/H's actual project, which is to highlight the complexities that occur even within a tradition that presents itself as more revisions of Aristotle's system. In other words, B/H have made it their project to "expand" what they admit is a problematic rhetorical tradition--how can this benefit us?
One benefit may be in recognizing the implausibility of arriving at any clear resolution to arguments like Stanley Fish's, unless and until we recognize the paradoxical nature of certain historical perspectives even as they are "expanded" or "revised". It is possible that B/H want us to grasp the following:
--the simultaneous benefits and challenges of historicizing rhetoric as a powerful public force (B/H 1, 8, 16)
--the difficulties of discerning a "universal" rhetorical situation in spite of its historical coherence and fluidity (B/H 1, 7)
--how the history of rhetoric can be seen as more than a succession of reformulations of the classical system, in spite of the fact that many primary texts are positioned as revising or speaking back first to Aristotle, then to Cicero, then to Quintilian, etc. (B/H 7).
Another benefit may be in helping us to assess Fish's positioning in the debate. If you remember again, I read an excerpt from Paul Turpin's response to Fish, in which Turpin says that by separating out and valuating "specific content" from other things, Fish is rejecting Aristotle's rhetoric/dialectic counterparts. According to Turpin, while Fish claims to argue for teaching "composition and rhetoric and nothing else," his argument actually results in an a-rhetorical stance--a limited set of skills becomes relegated to what Aristotle referred to as a "definite science" that is separate from disciplinary subject matter, exigency, discourse communities, genre, etc. (Fish seems to have recanted slightly on this point.)
Jon raised a very good point about the excerpt I read from Turpin's response. If Turpin were in fact making the assertion that "bad syntax comes from bad ideas" in order to argue for this non-separation, we wouldn't be any better off. But I think Turpin is responding in kind to Fish's assertion that syntax has purpose, value, and pedagogical basis as a language system (in a writing class) when viewed as separate from ideas. (Turpin disagrees.)
It might behoove Fish to take up more complex theoretical perspectives to engage his point about grammar instruction more convincingly, rather than fall back on what represents an unreflective way of doing history. It might behoove Fish to undertake a longer study of the context and initiation of discourse, of genre/style, or of rhetorical reasoning, not necessarily to position himself historically in the debate, but rather to demonstrate that he understands that the terms of the debate stem as much from how we have transmitted and transcribed our own history as they do from actual beliefs about what students can do in the classroom. Turpin's critique seems to be that Fish is unwilling to do that.
A final benefit may be in realizing that B/H use their classification to point out “continuing themes” or “continuing problems,” such as the nature of the rhetorician’s activities with respect to knowledge (5, 8). Perhaps we should view them more actively as ongoing problems, not only in our contemporary debates about how to teach writing, but also in our contemporary debates about how to historicize how writing has been taught.
It certainly behooves all of us to note that B/H and CCS both present what are, essentially, collections of corpora. The difference is that one relies on and implies a "stability" of periods (based on what they found in primary texts), while the other presents and argues for a "flexibility" of genres (based on how they think that 19th century texts invite the classification of rhetoric, reader, and composition book). But let’s test these claims: which classification is truly more stable or more flexible than the other? If both classifications have stemmed from (or "emerged from") the corpora, then aren't they useful to our efforts to understand how historians are in relationship with the histories they re-present?
-Tarez
Here are some links to provide essential context:
--Stanley Fish's column in the NYT on "what should colleges teach?"
--Part Two of the same column (in which Fish responds to the zealous responses to his column)
--Mark Richardson's article in the Chronicle that deals critically in some depth with the kinds of issues Fish takes up (this originally ran in November 2008 and reran last month)
--Paul Turpin's response to Fish's Part Two (on the WPA-L listserv)
If you remember, I brought up Jerrell's e-mail about Stanley Fish on the tails of responding to one of Jeff's discussion questions, in which he expressed a desire to see Bizzell/Herzberg more explicitly note the glossing of rhetoric's relationship to other disciplines that seems to occur in their anthology (i.e., these relationships aren't capitalized upon enough in their anthology, although the texts span ~2000 years). I think we agreed. In response to Jeff, I suggested that we think about some potential benefits of B/H's actual project, which is to highlight the complexities that occur even within a tradition that presents itself as more revisions of Aristotle's system. In other words, B/H have made it their project to "expand" what they admit is a problematic rhetorical tradition--how can this benefit us?
One benefit may be in recognizing the implausibility of arriving at any clear resolution to arguments like Stanley Fish's, unless and until we recognize the paradoxical nature of certain historical perspectives even as they are "expanded" or "revised". It is possible that B/H want us to grasp the following:
--the simultaneous benefits and challenges of historicizing rhetoric as a powerful public force (B/H 1, 8, 16)
--the difficulties of discerning a "universal" rhetorical situation in spite of its historical coherence and fluidity (B/H 1, 7)
--how the history of rhetoric can be seen as more than a succession of reformulations of the classical system, in spite of the fact that many primary texts are positioned as revising or speaking back first to Aristotle, then to Cicero, then to Quintilian, etc. (B/H 7).
Another benefit may be in helping us to assess Fish's positioning in the debate. If you remember again, I read an excerpt from Paul Turpin's response to Fish, in which Turpin says that by separating out and valuating "specific content" from other things, Fish is rejecting Aristotle's rhetoric/dialectic counterparts. According to Turpin, while Fish claims to argue for teaching "composition and rhetoric and nothing else," his argument actually results in an a-rhetorical stance--a limited set of skills becomes relegated to what Aristotle referred to as a "definite science" that is separate from disciplinary subject matter, exigency, discourse communities, genre, etc. (Fish seems to have recanted slightly on this point.)
Jon raised a very good point about the excerpt I read from Turpin's response. If Turpin were in fact making the assertion that "bad syntax comes from bad ideas" in order to argue for this non-separation, we wouldn't be any better off. But I think Turpin is responding in kind to Fish's assertion that syntax has purpose, value, and pedagogical basis as a language system (in a writing class) when viewed as separate from ideas. (Turpin disagrees.)
It might behoove Fish to take up more complex theoretical perspectives to engage his point about grammar instruction more convincingly, rather than fall back on what represents an unreflective way of doing history. It might behoove Fish to undertake a longer study of the context and initiation of discourse, of genre/style, or of rhetorical reasoning, not necessarily to position himself historically in the debate, but rather to demonstrate that he understands that the terms of the debate stem as much from how we have transmitted and transcribed our own history as they do from actual beliefs about what students can do in the classroom. Turpin's critique seems to be that Fish is unwilling to do that.
A final benefit may be in realizing that B/H use their classification to point out “continuing themes” or “continuing problems,” such as the nature of the rhetorician’s activities with respect to knowledge (5, 8). Perhaps we should view them more actively as ongoing problems, not only in our contemporary debates about how to teach writing, but also in our contemporary debates about how to historicize how writing has been taught.
It certainly behooves all of us to note that B/H and CCS both present what are, essentially, collections of corpora. The difference is that one relies on and implies a "stability" of periods (based on what they found in primary texts), while the other presents and argues for a "flexibility" of genres (based on how they think that 19th century texts invite the classification of rhetoric, reader, and composition book). But let’s test these claims: which classification is truly more stable or more flexible than the other? If both classifications have stemmed from (or "emerged from") the corpora, then aren't they useful to our efforts to understand how historians are in relationship with the histories they re-present?
-Tarez
Here are some links to provide essential context:
--Stanley Fish's column in the NYT on "what should colleges teach?"
--Part Two of the same column (in which Fish responds to the zealous responses to his column)
--Mark Richardson's article in the Chronicle that deals critically in some depth with the kinds of issues Fish takes up (this originally ran in November 2008 and reran last month)
--Paul Turpin's response to Fish's Part Two (on the WPA-L listserv)
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