In August of 1810, the great Shawnee leader Tecumseh met William Henry Harrison, then governor of the territory of Indiana, at the governor's mansion in Vincennes, Indiana.1 The two leaders came together to discuss a disagreement about a recently signed treaty that would give to the United States a large tract of Native American land in central Indiana. Accounts of this first face-to-face meeting between these two important men abound, and several versions of a text of the speech delivered by Tecumseh have come down to us. These accounts and texts contain many inconsistencies, but they all agree that Tecumseh steadfastly refused to accept the new treaty. Claiming that he was speaking for all the tribes, Tecumseh is reported to have said, This land that was sold and the goods that were given for it were only done by a few (Klinck 71). He went on to predict dire consequences should the whites occupy the land that he claimed was improperly sold to them. It was an important moment in Tecumseh's efforts to unite Native Americans in opposition to white expansionism. The meeting is perhaps most famous for the dramatic way in which it ended. At one point after having finished a two-hour speech against the treaty, Tecumseh apparently became furious with Winnemac, a Potawatomie leader who had signed the treaty. As Tecumseh assailed Winnemac in the Potawatomie tongue, Winnemac became alarmed and began to prepare his flintlock pistol, whereupon many of the white spectators reached for their weapons. Harrison rose from his seat and, facing Tecumseh, drew his sword, and at the same moment Tecumseh's warriors drew their weapons as they advanced to Tecumseh's side. Accounts of the incident often highlight this image of these two leaders, one white, one Native American, facing each other with weapons at the ready, and undoubtedly the embellishments of the scene have spawned much of the folklore surrounding the great conflict between Harrison and Tecumseh that would continue over the next two years.2 But this meeting was important for other, less obvious reasons. The meeting underscores the vital role that public discourse played in the conflicts between Native Americans and white Americans as the latter pushed westward into traditional Native American lands. More important, the extant texts from this meeting and other key meetings in Tecumseh's efforts to establish a pan

(1995). Rhetoric and reality in the process of scientific inquiry. Rhetoric Review: Vol. 14, No. 1, pp. 106-125.

(1995). Pestalozzi's Mark on nineteenth‐century composition instruction: Ideas not in words, but in things. Rhetoric Review: Vol. 14, No. 1, pp. 23-43.

(1995). “Breaking up”; [at] phallocracy: Postfeminism's chortling hammer. Rhetoric Review: Vol. 14, No. 1, pp. 126-141.

In summer of 1987, Donald Stewart began a survey of English departments, attempting to uncover changes in curriculum that had resulted from changes in discipline. Stewart reported results of his survey in a 1989 CCC article, is an English Major, and What Should It Be? Stewart acknowledged limitations of his study: he was considering only 194 colleges, and only 108 of these actually responded to his request for information beyond catalogue description. Furthermore, many of respondents indicated that their curriculum was constantly being revised. Still, survey provided an important window on English major, particularly with regard to options in creative writing and rhetoric/composition. Stewart found that only 74 of 194 colleges surveyed, or 38%, offered students chance to specialize in some aspect of writing in addition to literature. The majority of English departments surveyed by Stewart (55%) offered only literature emphases, with optional electives from other areas of English. Based on his findings, he made a call for the establishment, in all departments, of options in creative writing, linguistics (where departments of linguistics do not exist), and composition and (193). In our survey of writing concentrations or majors within English departments, we wanted to follow up on Stewart's survey to see if more undergraduates were able to specialize in composition and rhetoric.1 The initial impetus for this survey came from an e-mail discussion among writing program directors about concentrations in writing and rhetoric being offered in their departments. After several writing program directors informally announced new courses and writing concentrations, we thought a review of these changes

The idea for this symposium began when Sheryl Fontaine and Susan Hunter told Rick Gebhardt about two studies they had made of manuscript reviewing practices in composition studies--one surveying experiences and perceptions of authors and one dealing with journal referees. The subject of peer reviewing seemed an important one for a field working, as ours is, to definie its scholarly identity. Rick sensed that his efforts to bring blind refereeing to composition's oldest journal might prove useful in exploring the subject and, for addtional views, he contacted several of CCC's consulting readers. Carol Berkenkotter, who had been studying peer reviewing in the sciences, agreed to attempt a brief theoretical perspective. Phillip Arrington decided to explore the subject personally, from his experiences both as author and referee. And Doug Hesse chose to use personal experience, chaos theory, and MLA panels to discuss referees' reports as scholarship.

Richard A. Lanham. The Electronic Word: Democracy, Technology, and the Arts. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993. xv + 285 pp. $22.50 (cloth). Also available as a Chicago Expanded Book. 2 high‐density Macintosh disks. $29.95. Edward Schiappa, ed. Landmark Essays on Classical Greek Rhetoric. Landmark Essays Volume Three. Davis, CA: Hermagoras Press, 1994. xiv + 256 pages. $15.95 paper. Michael G. Moran, ed. Eighteenth‐Century British and American Rhetorics and Rhetoricians: Critical Studies and Sources. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1994. 318 pages. Barry Brummett, ed. Landmark Essays on Kenneth Burke. Davis: Hermagoras Press, 1993. xix + 290 pages. $15.95. Geoffrey A. Cross. Collaboration and Conflict: A Contextual Exploration of Group Writing and Positive Emphasis. Cresskill, NJ: Hampton Press, 1994. 182 pages. $18.50 paper. Alice Glarden Brand and Richard L. Graves, eds. Presence of Mind: Writing and the Domain Beyond the Cognitive. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann Boynton/Cook Publishers, 1994.

Last year, I was invited to speak at a conference whose theme was the feminization of composition.2 This topic coincided with another discussion I had been following in our journals: the emergence of Rhetoric and Composition as a scholarly field. In preparing my talk, I began to raise several questions like: What is meant by feminization in these discussions? Can we assume that composition is feminized? Are the discourses on disciplinary formation and on feminization already woven together? If not, should they be? This essay explores these questions, making distinctions and telling stories that offer an alternative perspective. Let me begin with the feminization of composition. My rereading of many of these discussions3 leads me to conclude that their statements about feminization apply largely to composition instruction, not to Rhetoric and Composition as a scholarly field.4 The two reasons generally advanced are the numerical predominance of women and the nature of composition pedagogy. Accounts agree that women do most of the teaching of writing from the university level to elementary school as either full- or part-time instructors. Many descriptions of recent pedagogies maintain that instructional practices, particularly of expressive and critical pedagogies, are marks of feminization because they are collaborative, student centered, and nurturing. A few, however, dissent. Susan Jarratt and Evelyn Ashton-Jones, for example, problematize collaboration as a desirable feminine pedagogy. Lil Brannon contends that the expressivists and people like Giroux, Shor, Freire, and Rose are reinscribing patriarchy by invoking masculine heroic narratives of conquest as traditional male Romantic heroes who, like the rugged individual in the Dead Poet's Society, work against all odds to make a difference. Some historical accounts of nineteenth-century composition position it as feminized in contrast to rhetorical instruction and the emerging professionalization of English Studies. Robert Connors argues that the demise of agonistic rhetorical instruction in persuasive public discourse, which he contends had largely characterized male education up through 1850, was related to the entrance of significant numbers of women into higher education in the nineteenth century. These women were excluded from taking oral rhetoric and assigned to a more appropriate course called composition. He

in the student's hands, Elbow's approach the teaching of writing appears be revolutionary and freeing. Using such techniques as freewriting, open-ended writing, and other forms of private writing, Elbow encourages students tap their own experience as a source for their writing and elevates the student's own resources over those of the academic community. Elbow's focus on the psychological and physical drives of the writer, the desire be loved (Sharing and Responding) and the compulsion write (Embracing 73), makes writing something that the teacher can share, but apparently not control or appropriate. Recently, however, composition theorists have been critical of the conservative political implications of Elbow's pedagogy, arguing that Elbow's rhetoric, defined variously as Romantic expressivism or expressionistic, fails empower students effect change through language. These critics argue that Elbow's theory hides the social of language (Faigley 531) and teaches students how to assert a private vision, a vision which, despite its uniqueness, finally represents humankind's best nature (Berlin 487). Notably though, those who criticize Elbow for being antisocial focus only on what Elbow has say about writers and writing. In doing so, they overlook what Elbow has say about the most social aspect of writing-the role of the reader and the exchange between writer and reader. In this essay I will examine Elbow's rhetoric of reading in order suggest that these taxonomic critiques oversimplify his theoretical and pedagogical position within the field of composition studies. In fact, a closer examination of Elbow's rhetoric of reading reveals that the problem is not so much that he ignores the social, it's that he tries control it. Like those who criticize him, Elbow would like help students demystify the social processes of the Academy, balance the power between writer and reader within the social space of the composition classroom. In his attempt control the transaction between writer and reader, however, Elbow reproduces the same hierarchy he wishes dismantle. I will suggest, nonetheless, that there is a means by which the more liberating aspects of Elbow's rhetoric of reading might be kept intact.

question, should teachers bring their politics into the classroom, is a question that is vague and, in the final analysis, only useful as a scare-tactic. It may sound straightforward, but it quickly dissolves into a variety of more specific possible interpretations: Should a teacher insist that students adopt in their writing a particular political position under threat of failure; should a teacher encourage students to adopt a particular political position; should a teacher argue for a particular political position in class; should a teacher expose students to political positions that are contrary to those the students already hold; should a teacher encourage or permit students to express any and all of their beliefs and opinions, even those that other students might find offensive; should a teacher show students how to critically examine beliefs, political or otherwise, and ask students to critically examine their own beliefs; should a teacher raise the possibility that the beliefs we have come to hold are interconnected and symbolically charged in ways that may prevent us from straightforwardly examining them; should a teacher design assignments around controversial political issues and insist that students engage (e.g., argue with others and defend their own position); should a teacher avoid all references to specific political issues and train students to write clear, grammatically correct prose? And, of course, there are many other ways of hearing the question. If we are to resist the question, should teachers bring their politics into the classroom, then, in favor of a question or questions that bring out more clearly what is at stake for us in the discussion of politics in the classroom, we may want to begin with a closer examination of the relationship between educational and political aims-which is precisely the direction we seem to be going in, if articles such as Patricia Bizzell's The of Virtue, Richard Marius's Politics in the Classroom, Louise Wetherbee Phelps', A Constrained Vision of the Writing Classroom, Donald Lazere's Teaching

Rhetoric's primary business has always been articulation of public knowledge and public values.1 Because making of knowledge in public realm incorporates intersecting discourses of many specialized communities, it frequently necessitates translation of expert discourse into a vernacular accessible to nonexpert decision makers. Indeed, Aristotle makes it clear in both Rhetoric and Topics that one of important uses of rhetorical art is forwarding of arguments in popular terms (34). This process of transforming into language that guides human affairs has been described by Charles Bazerman and James Paradis a conversion of the hieratic discourse of expertise into the demotic discourse of everyday practice (8). A prototype of this transformation becomes available for scrutiny in presentation of expert testimony to a jury, a process that involves accommodating knowledge claims and discourse practices of a specialized community to both formal procedures of a courtroom and lay understanding of jurors. Juries are empaneled to enact values of a larger public by deciding whether and to what degree a set of evidence matches legal definitions of criminal behavior or civil liability. By deciding guilt or innocence and determining appropriate penalties, they fulfill public function of rhetoric that Bitzer describes: to establish correct judgments in practical and humane affairs by examining contested versions of truth (68). To play this role, Gail Stygall has observed, jurors become socialized as temporary members of

Until recently, scholars have tended to credit two nineteenth-century thinkers, G. F. Hegel and George Grote, for initiating the modem rehabilitation of the sophists.2 But in the past several years, an increasing number of scholars have begun to draw inspiration from the writings of another nineteenth-century figure, Friedrich Nietzsche. Among those taking this Nietzschean turn, Mario Untersteiner utilizes Nietzsche's conception of the tragic in his account of Gorgias's epistemology (101-205), a reading Eric White supplements with Nietzsche's notion of the (38). Victor Vitanza, characterizing Nietzsche as a dionysian Sophist, draws from Nietzsche's tropological model of language to illuminate the sophists' own rhetoric (Sub/Versions 112; Notes 131); and David Roochnik contends that Nietzsche's critique of reason illuminates the sophists' own misology (Tragedy 50, 155, 162). In the sphere of ethics, E. R. Dodds maintains that Nietzsche's immoralism is similar to the egoism of Gorgias's student Callicles (387-91), and Daniel Shaw contends that Nietzsche's critique of morality iterates the sophists' notion that moral valuations remain matters of opinion (339). Concerning methodology, John Poulakos argues that Nietzsche's genealogical approach is most suited for interpreting the sophists (Interpreting 219-21); and Susan Jarratt credits Nietzsche's method as authorizing her own re-reading of the sophists (xix). But whereas they have drawn on a variety of Nietzsche's ideas and interpretive strategies to advance what Jacqueline dc Romilly characterizes as a Nietzschean interpretation of the sophists (Sophists xi), none of these scholars has systematically examined Nietzsche's own quite specific and extensive writings about the sophists. The untoward result is that we possess a variety of Nietzschean readings of the sophists that tend to silence Nietzsche's own distinctive voice. This tendency to overlook Nietzsche's own specific remarks about the sophists is quite understandable, for Nietzsche never wrote a systematic treatise on the sophists and instead discussed them in a rather fragmentary manner in a variety of texts over a period of almost two decades. Further, with the exception of three quite brief passages-in Human, All-Too-Human 221, Dawn 168, and the Ancients, Twilight of the Idols 2-Nietzsche did not publish any of his remarks about the sophists, confining his discussions to his 1872-1873 lecture notes in the history of Greek rhetoric (Description of Ancient Rhetoric and

Within his substantial body of nonfiction, there is, I think, no single metaphor that better describes John McPhee's relationship with his readers and his subjects than does the title of his third collection of essays. 1 Giving Good Weight, the lead essay in the collection of the same name, is an account of greenmarkets in New York in the 1970s. As one of McPhee's subjects tells us, the markets were planned mainly as 'a natural answer to a twofold problem': loss of farmland in the metropolitan area and a lack of 'fresh, decent food' in the city, but it was hoped that, with the right attitude and a little luck, they would also start conversations, help resuscitate neighborhoods, brighten the aesthetic of the troubled town (34). It is characteristic of McPhee and crucial to our reading of the essay that the perspective we are given on the interaction between buyers and sellers is both McPhee's own and, to a large extent, that of his principal subjects. Characteristic, because McPhee consistently takes the side of those about whom he writes in his nonfiction; and in this case, he has done so quite literally: as the essay opens, the author is standing on the greenmarketers' side of the table, selling vegetables, discovering first-hand how it feels to face the urban hordes, who slit the tomatoes with [their] fingernails, excavate the cheese with their thumbs, pulp the nectarines and rape the sweet corn (3). Crucial, because in taking the greenmarketers' perspective, McPhee establishes an identification that has important consequences for our reading of the entire essay. They are good people, these greenmarketers honest, hardworking, and committed to what they do-and McPhee's ethos benefits from his respectful and respected association with them. The governing metaphor captures the essence of the piece and of McPhee's ethos in almost all of his nonfiction. Giving good weight: apart from its prominent post as title of the title essay, it is a phrase used only three times, yet it reverberates throughout one's reading; or more accurately, it galvanizes all the unspoken responses one has to the varied themes that play across the essay. To good weight means, literally, to be generous when selling produce, to give three-and-a-quarter pounds of tomatoes for the price of three. But it also means, not only metaphorically but actually, the fostering of human fellowship and trust-the forging of an almost palpable bond through an act of commercial generosity. When customers find out that a young teacher selling

Click to increase image sizeClick to decrease image size Notes I wish to thank RR peer reviewers Janice Lauer and Andrea Lunsford for their helpful advice in the composition and revision of this article. I also owe a great debt of gratitude to Janet Emig and Susan Gzesh, Emig's case study subject "Lynn"; in The Composing Processes of Twelfth Graders, for allowing me to interview them at length.

The latest rehabilitation of the sophists, begun by Hegel and carried out with increasing dedication during this century (see Crowley, Enos, Guthrie, Hunt, Jarratt, Kerferd, Poulakos, De Romilly, Schiappa, Untersteiner), has improved our understanding of rhetorical theory and history. Despite, and in some ways because of, the nebulous quality of what they have left us, the sophists have become important primarily because they predate Plato and Aristotle and thus would seem to offer at least a fragmentary glimpse of rhetoric prior to its hypostatization in the classical period. The traditional thinking is that Platonic and Aristotelian rhetorical theory disciplined the sophists' extravagant practices, substantiated their unsubstantiated claims, and transformed their dithyrambic, mythic, magical, poetic discourse into a logical, rational theory of argumentation. In other words, Plato and Aristotle transformed mythos into logos; thus they were the fathers of rhetoric insofar as rhetoric was a respectable techno for the production of reasonable discourse. The philosophers rejected sophistic rhetoric on the grounds that it had no philosophical foundations from which its principles could be logically derived and safely taught. Thus they set about constructing a sound, philosophically based rhetoric by linking it carefully to, while dividing it just as carefully from, absolute knowledge (episteme). In both the Platonic and the Aristotelian rhetorical schemes, episteme provides the limits of rhetoric. In the Platonic case, absolute knowledge is a prerequisite for the application of rhetorical lore-one must employ dialectic in the service of absolute truth before one may use rhetoric to disseminate the truth (Phaedrus 265-66). In the Aristotelian case, rhetorical lore must be based on the first principles of persuasion, but must be employed when knowable matters are discussed-the closer one gets to fundamental principles, the further one gets from enthymemes, and thus the further one gets from rhetoric in the direction of scientific knowledge (Freese 1359b). If knowledge provides the limits for rhetorical theory and practice, then, in Platonic and Aristotelian terms, without both knowledge and a theory of knowledge, systematic rhetoric is impossible. This is why they dismissed sophistic rhetoric on the grounds that it ha(d) no rational account to give of the nature of the various things which it offer(ed) (Gorgias 465) and that it presented not an but the results of an art (Forster 183b). Because

(1994). Antifoundationalism: Can believers teach? Rhetoric Review: Vol. 13, No. 1, pp. 150-163.

Miriam Brody. Manly Writing: Gender, Rhetoric, and the Rise of Composition. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1993. 247 pages. Carol J. Singley and S. Elizabeth Sweeney, eds. Anxious Power: Reading, Writing, and Ambivalence in Narratives by Women. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993. xxvi + 400 pages. Gregory Clark and S. Michael Halloran, eds. Oratorical Culture in Nineteenth‐Century America: Transformations in the Theory and Practice of Rhetoric. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1993.281 pages. Donovan J. Ochs. Consolatory Rhetoric: Grief, Symbol, and Ritual in the Greco‐Roman Era. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1993. xiv + 130 pages. $29.95 cloth. Walter L. Reed. Dialogues of the Word: The Bible as Literature According to Bakhtin. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993. xvi + 223 pages. Barbara Warnick. The Sixth Canon: Belletristic Rhetorical Theory and Its French Antecedents. Columbia: University of South Carolina, 1993. 176 pages. John Frederick Reynolds, ed. Rhetorical Memory and Delivery: Classical Concepts for Contemporary Composition and Communication. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1993. xii + 170. $19.95 paper. Edward M. White. Teaching and Assessing Writing. 2nd ed. San Francisco: Jossey‐Bass Publishers, 1994. xxii + 331 pages. $34.95. Sharon Crowley. Ancient Rhetorics for Contemporary Students. New York: Macmillan College Publishing Company, 1994. 365 pages. Victor Villanueva, Jr. Bootstraps: From an American Academic of Color. Urbana, IL: NCTE, 1993. xviii + 150 pages.

teach composition using an enthymematic approach. Or I might say, teach composition from the or the enthymeme. Unfortunately, the word enthymeme is more likely to alienate composition teachers than to attract their interest and attention, despite growing body of scholarship that positions the enthymeme at the very heart of the composing process. According to the viewpoint that emerges from this scholarship, enthymematic reasoning is fundamental to cognition and discourse, and hence to writing. If so, then talking about the enthymeme ought to be an essential and powerful way of talking about the composing process, and of it (Grimaldi, Gage, Green, Walker, Porter, Hood, Emmel, among others). Part of the difficulty of explaining what is meant by teaching enthymematically resides in the word enthymeme itself, which, unlike more familiar composition terminology (thesis, evidence, conclusion), lacks common and shared meaning, even recognition, for both students and teachers alike. As one of my students complained, couldn't even find it in the dictionary! Other students have been perturbed when their other teachers do not recognize the word. As means of understanding and discussing composition, the term enthymeme is still in the process of gaining definition and application-that is, of becoming grounded in composition theory, apart from the realms of formal logic and classical rhetorical theory. The age-old tendency to reduce the enthymeme to a truncated syllogism, or to mere figure of speech with little rhetorical potential beyond the moment of utterance, robs it of the fullness from which its pedagogical potential derives (see, for example, Conley's and Poster's surveys of ancient and modem interpretations of the enthymeme). Yet the enthymeme is not just logical paradigm (statement 1 is true because statement 2 is true) but also conceptualization of rich set of relationships with the potential of being expressed in multitude of ways, of which the enthymematic and syllogistic paradigms are only the most schematic and thesis-like. A successful essay is no less enthymematic for not being

(1994). Constructing a doctoral program in rhetoric and composition. Rhetoric Review: Vol. 12, No. 2, pp. 392-397.

(1994). Doctoral programs in rhetoric and composition: A catalog of the profession. Rhetoric Review: Vol. 12, No. 2, pp. 240-389.