I’ve told people for years that I’m “math dyslexic” – words make perfect sense, but put numbers in front of me, and they dance around, taunting me “you can’t figure us out! Breaking out in a cold sweat yet? Feel like you're back in Sister Bertilla’s trigonometry class?”
Reading sections of Lynn and Tate this week as they went on and on with various explanations of rhetorical theories and strategies, I felt that old familiar panic. I confess, I can’t always recall the difference between deduction and induction, and words like "enthymeme" and “abbreviated syllogism” sound suspiciously mathematical and send my heart racing.
But, nonetheless, I found a kindred soul in Lynn, and breathed a sigh of relief when he wisely observed “one does not need all of Aristotle in order to make use of Aristotle’s approach to invention and logic.” He gives us permission to use some of Aristotle’s analytical tools and rules in order to learn – and teach our students – “how to build or take apart much more difficult or complicated arguments.” It made perfect sense when he noted that we might be asking students to “perform complicated logical tasks without explicitly addressing the underlying skills and materials needed to perform those tasks.”
Hence, the value in studying rhetorical theories and techniques. But, and a big BUT here. We know full well that such material is a challenge to break down, present simply, and – (most important to students) – RELEVANTLY – to any grade level. If you don’t agree with me, please read over my first two paragraphs again for a case in point.
I don’t think Lynn, Tate & D'Angelo (in Miller) answered this “how to” question for me – all simply reinforced the value of studying the classical methods of discourse in order to learn how they may enlighten, influence, and in some cases be incorporated into our modern methods to perhaps – hopefully – improve our teaching of composition. A few of them gave some worthwhile instructional suggestions at the end, which I plan to test out. And – somewhat comforting – a few are similar to techniques I use already, such as recognizing the value of using good writing as a model for students.
There was a tremendous amount to address in these readings – which hopefully we’ll touch on in class (such as the recognition of the value of schema, and Tate’s description of Kenneth Burke as “dangerous”)...but one final, rather dangerous thought perhaps of my own, that I’d like to share...and I’ll likely get an earful on this, but – for struggling writers – I’m a fan of the “dreaded” five paragraph essay. There I said it. I’m waiting to see if the writing gods and educational theorists strike me down as I type.
First of all, I hear you about the anxiety over terms like deduction, induction, syllogism. It was a struggle to get through, particularly Covino's essay. Anyway, I too felt that Lynn's approach made the most sense. But, as you said, I don't remember a point in any of the readings that answered the question Lynn proposes: "How can we put this historical knowledge to use?" Yes, we get it already that it's useful to know, but HOW do we put it to USE?
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking about offering bonus points to any student who endeavors to answer questions about the history of rhetoric. For example: So, who can tell us how an essay resembles a sermon?
ReplyDeleteSeriously, I do think there's something to be said for the fact that the history provides some context and rationale (method behind the madness) as to why defining and understanding rhetoric is so complex (and seemingly quite impossible). I also think it serves to illustrate the fact that our definition of rhetoric will continue to be changed and molded by our use of it and our interpretation of it. Like they say, the only constant is change.
Perhaps we could compare Rhetoric and writing to Kinneavy's mode of evaluation, where "multiple things in a relationship are moving through time." I mean, we are in a sense readers of an evaluative mode of writing as we read Lynn and others this week...