Charlotte Hoggaa Texas Christian UniversityCharlotte Hogg is Associate Professor of English and Director of Composition at Texas Christian University. Her publications include From the Garden Club: Rural Women Writing Community (U of Nebraska P, 2006), Rural Literacies, coauthored with Kim Donehower and Eileen E. Schell (SIUP, 2007), and Reclaiming the Rural: Essays on Literacy, Rhetoric, and Pedagogy, coedited with Donehower and Schell (SIUP, 2012), and scholarly and creative work in Women and Literacy: Inquiries for a New Century, Western American Literature, Great Plains Quarterly, Puerto del Sol, The Southeast Review, and elsewhere. Her current book project is on sorority rhetorics.

This essay argues that literary theory can no longer afford to adopt an exceptionalist view of its own disciplinary identity and relation to the Western tradition. To this end, it outlines a conceptual framework that distinguishes between competing tendencies within the Western tradition represented by the terms metaphysics and ontology. The implications of this distinction for literary theory are that the most important sources of the latter's disciplinary identity are neither the linguistics-based movement of French structuralism, as the term poststructuralism implies, nor a "modernity" that has been superseded, as the term postmodernism implies, but rather a modernist tradition of aesthetics shaped by eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century German romanticism and idealism.

In the spring of 1998, Richard Leo Enos, as chair of the Lorraine Sherley lecture series, invited James Kinneavy and Linda Ferreira-Buckley to speak to the faculty and students at Texas Christian University. As a graduate student working on a dissertation involving kairos and American literature, I saw in Professor Kinneavy's arrival a significant opportunity to clarify some of the ideas I had been considering. In particular, I had read Kinneavy's article on kairos as a Neglected Concept and saw in his ideas a great potential for the integration of literary and rhetorical studies. Nonetheless, I felt Professor Kinneavy had failed to address fully the transcendental aspect of kairos (best articulated by Paul Tillich) that, I felt, was central to the type of interdisciplinary work I was interested in pursuing. When I approached Kinneavy at TCU, then, I was, truth be told, on a naive mission to right a wrong I felt he had committed. Needless to say, I was quickly disabused of my perception. Professor Kinneavy and I began a conversation on the complexities of kairos, and he carefully illustrated the significance of the term to both rhetoric and literature. Most importantly Kinneavy asserted that kairos was transcendent in that it worked across culture lines and that it offered a subtle way of addressing the situations in which rhetoric is born. Indeed, kairos, he argued, actually explained how rhetoric was born. He felt the term expressed how certain cultural movements and conditions united with special moments to create ripe times for the rhetorical act. In this way kairos was a cornerstone for rhetoric. When Professor Kinneavy left TCU, he and I began a dialogue through email and phone that culminated in the interview printed here for the first time. The interview was conducted at his home in Austin, Texas, in August 1998 and was initially meant simply as background research for my dissertation and an article I was writing. My hope for the interview was that Professor Kinneavy would expand upon his idea of kairos and that he would clarify his position in relation to those of other theorists.

All his life, Mikhail Bakhtin wanted to be known as a moral philosopher. But the strange history of his life in print-both in Soviet Russia and abroaddictated that the would appear last.1 Bakhtin began writing philosophy during the World War; his book (on Dostoevsky) was published in 1929, within months of his arrest. For him as for many exiled Russian intellectuals, the thirty years of Stalinism were one huge silence. Then Bakhtin was rediscovered; everything came out in a rush at the end of his life, starting in the 1960s, jumbled in time and dodging a lazy decrepit censorship. His fame in the West dates from 1968, for his astonishing theses about carnival (a product of his middle age). Scholars then began to attend to his earlier ideas about dialogue; and only in the past ten years has serious attention been devoted to the sober, post-neoKantian philosophy of his youth, the last writings to be translated. Bakhtin confessed that he had turned to literature because, in the Soviet climate, literary study was safer than philosophy-but without a consistent set of first principles, he said, literary criticism remained a parasitic profession upon which nothing serious could be based or built.2 In 1997 I attempted to summarize this stressful professional trajectory and its recuperation in a book on Bakhtin's First Hundred Years; here I would like to speculate on possible futures for Bakhtin Studies during the second hundred years, especially as they relate to the teaching classroom. Two areas especially are worth watching, which will be the burden of my comments today. First: since 1990 there has been a slow but steady infiltration of Bakhtin's early ethical writings into American theory and practice-a very welcome development, I think, which has already gone far to tame the embarrassing excesses of carnival and dialogism. For excess and inflation have accompanied Bakhtin's remarkable posthumous career every step of the way. The timing of that purple paperback, The Dialogic Imagination, was perfect. The year was 1980, the deep freeze of structuralism was still in effect, literary professionalism and precision was still equated with systematicity, symmetrical constructs and complex nomenclature. Then suddenly this palpably warm, erudite, chatty set of texts appeared, essays on literature that provided lots of labels-in fact, a whole taxonomy of new terms-while remaining wholly human-centered and engagingly imprecise. It could only have dazzled the stupefied American

Helen Rothschild Ewald's 1993 essay, Waiting for Answerability: Bakhtin and Composition Studies, attempts to consolidate and redirect nearly a decade's appropriation of Bakhtin's work in composition studies. Its ambition to provide an authoritative map of and a new direction to Bakhtinian composition studies has been fulfilled in both its original place of publication and in its recent republication as the culminating essay in the first collection of landmark essays on Bakhtin, rhetoric, and (Farmer). While demonstrating the widespread use of Bakhtin in the field, Ewald characterizes this work as predominantly social-constructionist and heralds a new ethical emphasis that might be drawn from his earlier work on answerability. With heavy irony she deprecates how handy (332, 337) Bakhtin's work has been to a range of social-constructionist writers but chooses not to undertake a direct refutation of their claims. Instead, she chooses to suggest some teaching practices as part of a general reorientation of composition studies that would focus on and examine our specific situational responses to ethical issues that arise when we engage in or the teaching of writing (345). Connecting with a crossdisciplinary revival of inquiry into ethical issues, Ewald's intervention could be taken to herald an important ethical turn in Bakhtinian composition studies. Ewald necessarily draws much of her account of Bakhtin's early themes of ethics and answerability, as she acknowledges, from Gary Saul Morson and Caryl Emerson, Slavicists who have provided the most extensive and authoritative reading of Bakhtin to date and joined vigorously in the revival of ethical issues in literary criticism. Ewald shares not only their emphasis in Mikhail Bakhtin: Creation of a Prosaics on the superior authenticity and ethical seriousness of Bakhtin's early work but also their impatience with readers of his work who have confined their interest to his socially oriented theories of dialogue and carnival. Like Morson and Emerson, she eschews refutation of these readers but identifies herself with a more serious and worthy future line of inquiry into answerability in the ethical sense of individual accountability as

Robert Scholes. The Rise and Fall of English: Reconstructing English as a Discipline. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1998. Pp. Xiv + 203. Sharon Crowley. Composition in the University: Historical and Polemical Essays. Pittsburgh: Pittsburgh University Press, 1998. Xi + 306 pages. W. Ross Winterowd. The English Department: A Personal and Institutional History. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1998. Xii + 261. Molly Meijer Wertheimer, ed. Listening to Their Voices: The Rhetorical Activities of Historical Women. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1997. 408 pages. $47.50 cloth; $24.95 paper. Mary Lynch Kennedy, ed. Theorizing Composition: A Critical Sourcebook of Theory and Scholarship in Contemporary Composition Studies. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1998. 405 pages. John Schilb. Between the Lines: Relating Composition Theory and Literary Theory. Portsmouth: Boynton/Cook, 1996. Xv + 247. Hephzibah Roskelly and Kate Ronald. Reason to Believe: Romanticism, Pragmatism, and The Teaching of Writing. Albany, NY: State U of New York P, 1998. xiv + 187 pages. Thomas Newkirk. The Performance of Self in Student Writing. Portsmouth, NH: Boynton/Cook Heinemann, 1997. xiii + 107 pages. Kay Halasek. A Pedagogy of Possibility: Bakhtinian Perspectives on Composition Studies. Southern Illinois University Press, 1999. 223 pages.

Ethos is generally associated with individual rhetors.1 Certainly that's association Aristotle had in mind when he recorded most influential usage of term (Rhetoric 1356a). But there is ample warrant for moving to a broader level-the level adopted in this paper, a case study of outrageous of a group of generative linguists on cusp of sixties and seventies. There is ample warrant for identifying not simply with specific individuals in specific orations but also with identifiable communities. In ordinary language, for instance, has always been far more communal than individual: Ethos.... [ 1.] The characteristic spirit, prevalent tone of sentiment, of a people or community; 'genius' of an institution or system (OED, 1933 reissue) . And it has a similar sense among our academic neighbors-in literary criticism, where books have titles like The Ethos of Restoration Comedy (Schneider); in sociology, where books have titles like The Ethos of Hong Kong Chinese (Siu-Kai), or, more famously, in Merton's discussion of general ethos of science (268). Coming closer to home, consider Augustine's notion of a Christian ethos, which presupposes that rhetor stands for group values (De Doctrina 4.27-29). Consider similarly presupposing admonition of George Campbell about influence of party-spirit (97). Consider Black's above-epigramitized talk of patterned commitments and stylistic proclivities, which, as Halloran tells us, is essentially projection of to communal level (Black 85; Halloran, Molecular Biology 71). Elsewhere, Halloran tells us more: the word has both an individual and a collective meaning. It makes sense to speak of of this or that person, but it makes equally good sense to speak of of a particular

In his 1925 article Literary Criticism of Oratory, Herbert Wichelns, a scholar of rhetoric at Cornell, observed that, with respect to literary study, oratory had become either an outcast or a poor (181). Oratory's falling out of favor indicated to Wichelns that perceptions of discourse had been radically transformed. Intimating what the change might consist of, he wrote, [i]nvolved in it is some shift in the conception of oratory or of literature, or of both; nor can these conceptions have changed except in response to the of which oratory, as well as literature, is part (181). Scholars writing after Wichelns have frequently reported on the ill fate of oratory-and, more broadly, of rhetoric as the practice and study of some kinds of written as well as oral discourse-in American colleges. How had colleges by 1925 come to demote rhetoric to a position beneath literary critical study and literary works of fiction, drama, and poetry? As Wichelns suggested, rhetoric and literature shared some life, and our elaboration of their common history and context can help us account for rhetoric's condition. Some scholars have argued that the study and status of rhetoric in the college curriculum diminished as a strong interest in literature emerged (e.g., Stewart 119-21; Connors, Ede, and Lunsford 5-7; Halloran 176). Exploring the role of the belletristic tradition in rhetoric and of representative individuals such as C. S. Baldwin and the men who held the position of Boylston Professor of Rhetoric at Harvard, the work of these scholars offers insight into the interrelations among rhetoric and literature during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Historians neither of English nor of speech as academic disciplines, however, have traced the relation between rhetoric and literature as it was construed by scholars who were active during this time. The concomitant rise of literary study and fall of rhetoric suggest that historical perceptions of the relation between literary and rhetorical discourse figure in the story of rhetoric's demise. Part of what we might call the life of rhetoric and of literature is the relation that members of the profession perceived between them. As with contemporary discussions on the issue in such texts as Jane Tompkins' Reader in History and Steven Mailloux's Rhetorical Power, we might guess that turn-of-the-century scholars posited rela-

Andrea A. Lunsford, Helene Moglen, and James Slevin, eds., The Future of Doctoral Studies in English. New York: Modern Language Association, 1989. xii + 179 pages. Patrick Brantlinger, Crusoe's Footprints: Cultural Studies in Britain and America. New York: Routledge, 1990. xi + 212 pages. Bernard Bergonzi, Exploding English: Criticism, Theory, Culture. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990. viii + 240 pages. Reed Way Dasenbrock, ed. Redrawing the Lines: Analytic Philosophy, Deconstruction, and Literary Theory. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1989. 263 pages. John D. Schaeffer, Sensus Communis: Vico, Rhetoric, and the Limits of Relativism. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1990. 181 pages. $25.75. Donald A. Daiker and Max Morenberg, eds. The Writing Teacher as Researcher: Essays in the Theory and Practice of Class‐Based Research. Portsmouth, NH: Boynton/Cook Publishers, 1990. xi + 357 pages. $19.50. Alice Glarden Brand, The Psychology of Writing: The Affective Experience. Foreword by Peter Elbow. New York: Greenwood Press, 1989. 259 pages.

In his essay The Function of Rhetorical Study at the Present Time, J. Hillis Miller remarks: the recognition that all language, even language that seems purely referential or conceptual, is figurative language and an exploration of the consequences of that view for the interpretation of literature represent, it seems to me, one of the major frontiers of literary study today (13). This view of language also represents one of the major frontiers of composition study. To connect this view of language to the study of composition, I propose that a theory of can be a means of relating composition theory to literary theory. More specifically, I would like to suggest that the four metaphor, metonymy, synecdoche, and irony - can provide a conceptual framework for the composing process and a guide to critical reading. Tropes have developed into an explanatory power in a great many disciplines, including rhetoric, linguistics, philosophy, history, and literary theory. Rhetoricians have catalogued and defined a large number of these tropes, four of which - metaphor, metonymy, synecdoche, and irony - have been considered the most important. Kenneth Burke labeled these the master tropes

I think that, as rhetoricians and writing teachers, we will come of age and become autonomous professionals with a discipline of our own only if we can make a psychological break with the literary critics who today dominate the profession of English studies... [Already] we've left home in many ways, but we haven't cut the cord.... For example: We keep trying to find ways to join contemporary literary theory with composition theory. -Maxine Hairston, Breaking Bonds and Reaffirming Our Connections, CCC 36 (1985): 273-74.

Composition studies began to take its contemporary form only in the early 1960s. There is no unbroken theoretical tradition from classical rhetoric to the present, although scholars in composition studies have attempted to reinvent the work of earlier theorists as foundations for their own work.' Perhaps because of this discontinuity in the tradition and because composition studies has been constituted as a field so recently, there is also no dominant theory governing composition studies today. Some theorists seek the universal laws of composition, or at least a universally applicable method for investigating such laws, while others seek to understand discourse in its historical context. Not coincidentally, the period in which composition studies has developed has also been a period of theoretical upheaval in English studies, the parent discipline. Composition theorists have drawn on the contending literary theories of this period as much as on the rhetorical tradition in shaping their own debates. One reason for this influence of literary theory on composition theory is that almost every active scholar in composition studies today holds a degree in English literature, not in composition and rhetoric. This situation is changing as degree programs in composition proliferate, but the majority of faculty who design and teach in these degree programs were themselves trained as literary critics. Much important work in composition studies shows the influence of the scholars' literary training. For example, Mina Shaughnessy has subjected the essays of unsuccessful student writers to a sort of new-critical close-reading. She is thus able to show that the students' tortured sentence structures are actually attempts to make meaning, albeit meaning in an unfamiliar world, the academic. Elaine Maimon has analyzed as literary genres the various kinds of academic discourse, thus uncovering their knowledge-generating conventions. Ann Berthoff has generalized a theory of the poetic imagination, derived primarily from the work of I. A. Richards, to explain all attempts at making meaning in language. Composition specialists have not only used literary training in their own work but also urged on their students a kind of literary close-reading ability as a means to develop the students' own writing. Pedagogy such as that of Peter Elbow and Ken Macrorie assumes that the same critical eye that allows the

Articles by Richard Fulkerson, Karen Pelz, and Michael Hogan in the first issue of the Journal of Advanced Composition (Spring 1980) all pointed to a serious lack of consistency in the profession's conception of what should be covered in advanced composition courses in college. Professor Pelz, while arguing against what she perceives as another teacher's advocacy of media-centered rather than writing-centered advanced composition courses, advocates the development of a personal style in advanced writing courses, seemingly calling for an emphasis on expressive discourse and self-discovery (A Reply to Medicott: Evaluating Writing, 7-9). Professor Fulkerson (Some Theoretical Speculations on the Advanced Composition Curriculum, 9-12) uses Abrams' and Kinneavy's theories of literary criticism and the aims of discourse to construct two different curricular models for advanced composition programs--one suggesting courses based on the skills required of students as they produce discourse with different aims, the other suggesting synthesizing all four discourse aims in a single advanced composition course. Finally, Professor Hogan (Advanced Composition: A Survey, 21-29) sent questionnaires to 374 advanced composition teachers at 311 schools and found an enormously diverse range of course objectives and plans among the responses that he received. Hogan also found that many advanced composition courses used the same books as freshman writing courses in the same schools. Although rhetoric, Hogan found, dominated the courses of instruction, there did not seem to be any clear or consistent pattern of rhetorical approach in the schools or teachers who reported. Very few respondents, in fact, reflected much attention to types or aims of discourse, as Fulkerson had suggested, in their assignments or plans. Articles such as these reflect the composition profession's general lack