ABSTRACTThis article explores rhetorics connected to the 1918 graduation of Korea’s first women’s college. The study examines textual and visual archives from the early 1900s to 1965, drawing on scholarship in colonial studies, Korean studies, history, and rhetoric. I argue that Japanese, Koreans, and US missionaries competed at this college’s 1918 commencement to define and take credit for the school’s work. I show how weather constrained Koreans and missionary leaders as they leveraged visual rhetorics for divergent objectives. I analyze how the Korean valedictorian employed the English language and US cultural references to compose anticolonial mimetic rhetorics. Finally, I examine how Japanese and US spatial rhetorics worked to displace Koreans and erase their history. This study suggests how traditional textual sources might be complicated by considering mundane meteorological, sartorial, linguistic, and spatial details. The article also seeks to demonstrate the importance of broadening our field’s languages and regions of study.KEYWORDS: Colonialismcommencement rhetoricsmimesisspatial rhetoricsvisual rhetorics AcknowledgementsI thank the reviewers for encouraging and challenging suggestions that advanced and clarified my arguments. My thanks to the RSQ editor and staff for their patient support. I am deeply grateful to experts in archives, libraries, and museums in Korea and the US who generously located and helped me secure permission to use textual and visual primary sources—this project would have been impossible without them: to 손현지 Son Hyunji at the Ewha Archives and 서은진 Seo Eunjin at the Ewha Museum for years of invaluable assistance; to Candace Reilly, Manager of Special Collections at the Drew University Library; to Alex Parrish at Drew University’s United Methodist Archives and History Center; to Frances Lyons at the United Methodist Church’s General Commission on Archives and History; and to the staff at Research Information Services at the National Library of Korea.Disclosure StatementNo potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).Correction StatementThis article has been corrected with minor changes. These changes do not impact the academic content of the article.Notes1 “梨花 學堂 卒業式 [이화학당 졸업식] (Ewha Academy graduation).” Here and throughout, I have modernized the obsolete vowel • to its modern equivalents (toㅏ when it appears alone and to ㅔ or ㅐ when it appears as part of another vowel).2 This and all translations are mine, except for the titles of Korean-language works in the bibliography.3 For example, see Finnegan “Doing Rhetorical History” and “Studying Visual Modes”; Gries, Still Life; Hariman and Lucaites.4 Campt; Coronado.5 See especially Hyaeweol Choi, “Visual” and Heejeong Sohn; also, Clark, Missionary Photography.6 See 김윤 Kim Yun; Chung; Hyaeweol Choi, New Women and Gender; Yoo.7 Quoted in Bordelon 511.8 Kim Hwallan, Grace 44.9 임영신 Im Yeongsin/Louise Yim 116; McKenzie 292–93.10 In 1952, for instance, Frantz Fanon famously observed the rhetorical power of seeing Martinicians return from France wearing European-style clothing and speaking European languages (18, 20).11 In rhetoric, see Enoch, Domestic 9–10; Jerry Won Lee and Jackie Jia Lou; Eun Young Lee 2. In other disciplines, see Qian; Wright; and Yeoh.12 See Hsia for Japanese architecture in Taiwan.13 See, for example, Fuller on Italians’ “dehistoricizing” of Ethiopia (401–02). Fuller cites Nezar AlSayyad’s characterization of this phenomenon as a colonialist “myth of the clean slate, the need for dominance to wipe out and rewrite history” (416 n. 17).14 https://sunrise.maplogs.com/seoul_south_Korea.84.html?year=1918.15 See the records at the Korea Meteorological Administration: https://data.kma.go.kr/data/grnd/selectAsosRltmList.do?pgmNo=36.16 Many thanks to 서은진 Seo Eunjin at 이화박물관 Ewha Museum for extensive help interpreting this picture. To help me establish the compass directions of the photograph, she identified the buildings on a historic campus map (https://www.ewha.ac.kr/ewhaen/intro/history-campus.do). Main Hall in the foreground (which no longer survives) was southeast of Simpson Memorial in the background. Students are therefore staring nearly due east. The sun appears to be shining directly in their faces, and there is almost no shadow cast from the Simpson Memorial roof on its walls, suggesting that the sun was still somewhat low in its ascent toward the zenith and that this was sometime in the morning. My conjectures are based on the assumption that we can take the caption on Figure 2 literally and conclude that “at commencement” means 27 March 1918.17 Main Hall, on the left, was the campus’s first Western-style building, completed in 1899 (Conrow 6). Simpson Memorial, on the right, had been completed in 1915, just three years before this photograph (Conrow 14).18 박인덕 Bak Indeok/Induk Pahk recalls her winter clothing at Ewha in the 1910s: “In the winter we wore padded blouses made from ten to twelve pieces of cotton or silk for the outer part and seven pieces for the lining” (47).19 In Figure 6, women wearing caps are visible immediately stage left of the open church door and through the top and bottom window panes stage right of the door. According to 김희정 Kim Hee Jung, traditional fur caps including pungcha and 남바위 nambawi fell out of fashion after the mid-1920s, but both should still have been a viable option for Ewha students in 1918, had students been permitted to wear them (ii, 131).20 See Clemente for a study of the ways women students and school leaders engaged public perceptions about dress, higher education, and gender roles in the United States in the first decades of the twentieth century.21 Kim Seok-hee (11); Pahk (18); 임영신 Im Yeongsin/Louise Yim (54).22 Kim Hwallan Rural 37; Grace 97; “女學生 (Problems)” 13; 김윤 Kim Yun 40, 50–52.23 Classical Chinese: 內鮮一体, Korean: 내선 일체, “[Japan] and Korea, one body.” For an overview of the campaign, see Uchida 137. On “cultural genocide,” see Clark, Living 197, 210. See Yoonmi Lee for a recent study of how convincing this campaign was to idealistic young Japanese elementary school teachers tasked with implementing it in rural Korean schools.24 Kang 111.25 Personal correspondence with 서은진 Seo Eunjin at 이화박물관 Ewha Museum, 30 November 2021.26 김윤 Kim Yun 51–53; 김활란 Kim Hwallan, 그빛속의 [Little life] 209; Grace 97. See 윤주리 Youn Ju Ri 8 for images of students wearing mombbe at Ewha and elsewhere; see 김윤 Kim Yun 51 for images at another women’s school.27 Without further evidence, of course, these are speculations. It is possible that participants of that year’s commencement were unconscious of any politicization of color, although this ignorance would have been despite government proclamations. But these ideas were a growing component of Japanese assimilation-minded colonial discourse—and Korean resistance to it.28 In addition to Kohl and Fanon cited above, see (among the extensive literature on mimicry) Bhabha; Ferguson.29 See the discussion of Japanese restrictions on missionary schools in notes 39 and 40. See also Marker et al. 40–41 for Ewhaians’ struggles to obey Japanese language regulations in 1913.30 See, for example, the colonial government’s 1920 English-language publication Manual of Education in Chosen [“Chosen” is the English spelling of the Japanese term for Korea at the time], especially pages 60–61; see Heé on similar Japanese propaganda relating to Taiwan.31 For example, see Enoch, Domestic, chapter 3.32 In addition to the Manual of Education in Chosen mentioned above, the Japanese colonial government published the English-language Annual Reports on Reforms and Progress in Chosen between 1907 and 1945, propagandizing its rule of Korea: see Dudden 20; Grunow 86–87.33 Kim Hwallan, Grace 38.34 “국내 최초의 여학사들, 조국의 미래를 위해 헌신하다!” Ewha University Blog, 19 November 2012, https://m.blog.naver.com/PostView.naver?isHttpsRedirect=true&blogId=the_ewha&logNo=20171598761.35 See Kwon; Choi Gender, chapter 7.36 I have so far been unable to locate their names—a fact that underscores Koreans’ marginalization.37 Board of Missions of the Methodist Episcopal Church, “Mission Photograph Album—Korea #5 Introductory Page,” UMC Digital Galleries, accessed 22 June 2023, https://catalog.gcah.org/images/items/show/10841.38 Harris delivered words of “commendation and encouragement” at commencement (Frey et al. 48).39 In its first decade following annexation, the Japanese government forbade the teaching of Christianity at missionary schools and required them to achieve stringent certification standards—actions that led to the closure of nearly 50% of such institutions by 1919 (Yoo 62–64).40 See Andrew Hall for Sekiya’s role in formulating Japanese educational policies in Korea. In 1913, Ewha leaders had described Sekiya as having “been most kind to us. He has been very much interested in our school and we are sure after talking with him a number of times that nothing will be done to hinder us in our … work” (Marker et al. 41). Given the broader US-Japanese conflicts that had defined the first years of Japan’s occupation—in addition to the educational conflicts described in footnote 39, the Japanese had imprisoned a missionary during the so-called Conspiracy Case just a year earlier (Clark, “Surely” 50; Jun 51–58)—it is tempting to read this statement as masking anxieties that had led to the fear of the government “hinder[ing]” Ewha’s work. Whatever their real feelings, Ewha’s leaders and Sekiya evidently kept up a working relationship for at least two years until he delivered his speech in 1915.41 Nordlund provides a recent study.42 See 서정현 Seo Jeong Hyun 96 for a map.43 For studies of Gojong’s reforms in Jeongdong district (where Ewha Hakdang and the First Methodist Church were located), see김현숙 Kim Hyeonsuk and 서정현 Seo Jeong Hyun. In English, see Clark, Living 13; and Henderson (although this source is very dated).44 In 1912, for example, missionary William Elliot Griffis (admittedly a Japanophile) expressed his contempt for the common one-storey Korean buildings, which he derided as “the squatty native structures in use from king to coolie” (209).45 In 1954, Im Yeongsin/Louise Yim remembered Gojong’s death as murder by poisoning by the Japanese (102). In their 2011 study of Gojong’s death, 이해웅 Hai-Woong Lee and 김훈 Hoon Kim “assume that the possibility of poison murdering is high” (125, 132). In her own 2011 study, 윤소영 Yoon So-young disagreed. Recent fictional depictions also reveal the continuing importance of Gojong’s death in South Korean thought and culture—see his implied poisoning by a Korean collaborator with Japan in the film 덕혜옹주 The Last Princess (2016).46 For one example of this translation into English, see Clark, “Surely” 53. For a modern, English translation of the full declaration, see Han-Kyo Kim. An original document can be viewed at https://www.heritage.go.kr/heri/cul/culSelectDetail.do?pageNo=1_1_1_1&sngl=Y&ccbaCpno=4411106640100.47 Clark, “Surely” 53.48 Clark, “Surely” 53; Kim Hwallan, Grace 40.49 On US colonial rule in the Philippines, see Jimenez. See Desser for a rhetorical study of the United States in Hawaiʻi, and Enoch, Refiguring, chapter 3, on US schools for Native Americans.

Given the influx in people of African descent immigrating to the United States from diverse national, linguistic, and ethnic backgrounds, the demographics of the US Black community has shifted significantly over the last several decades. As a result of these changes, it is imperative that approaches to rhetorical studies, especially African-centered cultural rhetorics, remain inclusive and representative of diverse Black experiences in the United States and abroad. Toward this end, the authors propose a new disciplinary subfield called Global Black Rhetorics (GBR). GBR emphasizes engaging similarities and differences across Black experiences, positions of power, and privilege, which includes acknowledging, studying, and prioritizing the histories, languages, rhetorical traditions, and practices of continental Africans, Afro-Caribbeans, Afro-Latinx, Afro-Europeans, and other people of African descent across the African Diaspora. The authors introduce a four-themed framework for GBR that includes: assessing methods of education about global Black experiences, studying and teaching Black language diversity, teaching and citing contemporary rhetors and texts from Africa and African Diasporic contexts, and prioritizing healing as a communal goal for all Black people. The essay concludes with an introduction to the contributors of this special issue whose research advances the authors’ call for a globalized approach to Black Rhetorics.

Frankenstein myths circulate widely in Western culture and offer robust indices of common anxieties about invention. This essay articulates a version of the Frankenstein myth that emphasizes potential contributions to the practice and teaching of rhetoric. Specifically, this essay suggests that this myth about the practice of invention in general can contribute to understandings of rhetorical invention in particular, especially with regard to the extent to which rhetorical invention may, in some instances, be informed by themes associated with deception, duality, and autonomy. The essay closes with a discussion of implications and limitations.

In this essay, we offer the “investigative pivot” as a framework for teaching rhetoric researchers how to orient and withstand being re-/dis-/oriented by the research process. Investigative pivoting indexes how a researcher responds to material conditions under which they collect and analyze data. To illustrate investigative pivots, we present and analyze pivot narratives from four graduate student researchers. Drawing on the analytic power of E. Cram’s rhetoric of orientation, these pivot narratives detail how we negotiate infrastructural, ideological, and institutional influences on our research process. When adopted, the investigative pivot prompts researchers to anticipate, recognize, and respond to the material-discursive hurdles of life and learning that follow us into our research sites. Such a framework, we argue, facilitates simultaneous methodological and pedagogical opportunities for students, teachers, and researchers of rhetoric.

Historical efforts to thwart demagoguery through rhetorical pedagogy have inadvertently abetted further demagoguery. Highlighting three American episodes of pedagogic backfire, this essay interrogates how teachers of rhetoric have fueled resentments, upheld logics of exclusion, or presumed an exceptional immunity to demagogic cooptation. Theorizing demagoguery and democracy as reciprocal forces that operate through the same rhetorical and institutional structures, this essay advises an attitudinal reorientation toward teaching rhetoric that emphasizes spontaneity and vigilance in the face of demagoguery's continual infiltration of discursive practices.

As I write this response, I am also preparing my life writing syllabus for the spring, and in that course, I will be teaching essays and memoirs whose authors seek adequate witnesses for their test...

Stacey Waite’s Teaching Queer: Radical Possibilities for Writing and Knowing offers a crucial provocation for rhetorical studies. As “The Mt. Oread Manifesto on Rhetorical Education” reminds, pedag...

Teaching delivers signs. The teaching body produces … signs, or more precisely, signifiers supposing the knowledge of a prior signified. … Every university puts language in a position of belatednes...

This article uses a short reflection on the life and work of Father António Vieira (born Portugal, 1608, died Brazil, 1697) to draw our attention to the need to account not just for the dynamic interplay between colony and metropolis, but also the colony’s impact on the teaching, theory, and practice of rhetoric since 1492. Specifically, my reflection focuses on Vieira’s Le Lacrime d’Eraclito, a text that suggests that for rhetorical theory and practice the colonial encounter had ramifications on the European continent as profound as those on the American. We cannot speak of an American or Western rhetorical tradition and history without considering this interplay in which the American colonies were active participants, not passive subjects.

In this essay, I examine how Argentine president Cristina Fernández de Kirchner used her 2007 inaugural address to legitimize her political leadership. Placing the address within Argentina’s political climate and working in light of the fact that Fernández de Kirchner’s spouse was the out-going president, I use theories of political ethos to examine the challenges Fernández de Kirchner faced in inaugurating her presidency. I suggest that she constructed a hybrid ethos, combining multiple presidential images to reconcile competing concerns. I treat in depth three elements of that hybrid ethos: the ethos of a presidential couple that positioned Fernández de Kirchner alongside her popular husband; the ethos of a woman president building on a tradition of other influential Argentine women; and the ethos of a teacher-expert whose knowledge authorized national leadership. Enacting these varied ethoi, I argue, Fernández de Kirchner turned political challenges to her advantage and crafted the presidency she would assume.

Revisionist historiographies in rhetorical studies often recuperate marginalized figures to advance scholarship on rhetorical education. I illustrate the heuristic value of recuperating mainstream figures by drawing on unexamined materials of John Bascom, whose contributions to nineteenth-century rhetorical theory have been determined exclusively by his textbook, Philosophy of Rhetoric. I challenge such interpretations by using autobiography and institutional history to illustrate Bascom’s disdain for rhetoric and preference for philosophy. I synthesize Bascom’s publications, teaching, and administrative work while president of the University of Wisconsin to recuperate a civic philosophy of public education that integrated civic humanism with progressivism to promote collective identity and shared governance. I use Bascom’s philosophy to support rhetorical education that integrates participation and deliberation as strategies for civic engagement. This essay contributes to rhetorical historiography by demonstrating how a wider range of materials can produce more complex, compelling accounts of an individual’s contributions to theory or pedagogy.

This essay recovers the rhetorical career of San Francisco Examiner journalist Winifred Black to demonstrate how professional journalists used late-nineteenth-century newspapers for rhetorical education and social change. I analyze two campaigns—the “Orphan's Santa Claus” and the “Little Jim” crusade—to demonstrate how Winifred Black constructs a persuasive ethos capable of inspiring the writing and social action efforts of male and female children from various socioeconomic classes. Specifically, Black revises the rhetorical tradition of the “stunt girl reporter” in order to craft a teacherly ethos anchored in a “symbolic motherhood”—an effective rhetorical strategy due to close cultural links between teaching and mothering. Combined with aspects of what Karlyn Kohrs Campbell terms a “feminine style,” this ethos allows Black to promote not merely social change, but a particular kind of rhetorical education that: (1) privileges moral principles over grammatical and mechanical correctness and (2) blurs gender and class lines.

Over 2,500 years, philosophers in India refined a truth-centered and rhetorically egalitarian method of analogical debate: Nyāya vāda, and its five-part expression, the “Nyāya method.” According to Indian tradition, its practices emerged in the context of inter-scholar debates. However, most historical examples of Indian debate occur in mythical/religious dialogues between teacher and student, and currently Nyāya's scholars focus on theory, neglecting social practice. While Indologists describe the “what” of Nyāya, their bias toward theory leaves its conversational uses unexplored. Comparative rhetoricians describe Indian rhetoric with Greek terminologies as points of reference, and miss Nyāya's theoretical and practical debate tradition. This essay addresses this lack of social context and paucity of representation of Nyāya. It shows how informal debates in ancient literary/historical dialogues presage Nyāya's formulation and traces Nyāya's use in contemporary public examples, illustrating its rhetorical journey from discussions of scholars and kings, to academic formulization, to popular dialogic expression. Nyāya offers a clear alternative to Western confrontational rhetoric, and the presence of Indian “rhetorical” practice and theory undermines assumptions about “rhetoric” being uniquely Greek in origin, underscoring the need for comparative rhetorics.

This essay examines how three of the most popular public speaking textbooks address rhetorical invention. The essay argues that textbooks minimize the discursive space shared by speakers and audiences in public speaking classrooms. As a consequence, topic and argument invention is framed largely as an internal affair that occurs prior to the speaker's interaction with the audience. The essay concludes with recommendations for teaching invention by reframing the public speaking classroom as a protopublic space.

Drawing on a long tradition of teaching rhetoric that extends back to the late antique and even Hellenistic periods, the Byzantine rhetorical commentaries offer a unique witness to a “syncretic” pedagogy, in which argument and language structure are taught as two sides of the same coin. This article examines the Byzantine commentaries on four figures from the Hermogenic corpus, the standard “textbook” used in rhetorical education in Byzantium. Somewhat “untraditional,” these figures—known as period, pneuma, akmê, and antitheton—are assumed to have significant value in the invention and arrangement of arguments. Moreover, the commentaries indicate that teaching the figures presupposed lively peer work among the students as well as much interaction between the performing student and his classmates.

Kenneth Burke claimed in 1952 that he viewed his rhetorical theory and critical method as a "Bennington Project," a sign that he attributed a measure of his intellectual success to teaching at pragmatist-inspired Bennington College. Studying Burke's teaching at Bennington can help scholars to better understand his theory and method because Burke taught undergraduates his own critical reading practices, ones that he believed heightened students' awareness of terministic screens and deepened their appreciation for the consequences of human symbol-use. Burke's teaching practices and his comments on student essays reveal that he taught indexing and charting to his undergraduates because he believed everyone can and should use them throughout their lives to examine—and, when necessary, revise—the often unexpressed assumptions that propel so much human activity toward competition and, ultimately, physical and social destruction.

This article argues that the Institutio Oratoria is Quintilian's Quintilian . The Orator's Education [Institutio Oratoria] . 5 Vols. Trans. Donald A. Russell . Cambridge : Harvard University Press , 2001 . [Google Scholar] attempt to provide an education in moral philosophy through the teaching of rhetoric as a technê. In contrast to the way Quintilian is typically portrayed, this paper presents him as a political opportunist who hoped to benefit from the Flavian emperors' distrust of philosophy by presenting a curriculum that would tame moral philosophy by teaching it in the context of rhetoric. As a demonstration of how Quintilian envisioned rhetoric's transformation of moral philosophy, the article analyzes the treatment of the relationship between the moral and the expedient in the Institutes, contrasting Quintilian's rhetorical treatment to that in philosophy, particularly in Cicero's Cicero . De Officiis . Trans., Walter Miller . Cambridge : Harvard University Press , 1913 .[Crossref] , [Google Scholar] De Officiis. This analysis of the Institutes has implication for our understanding of how Quintilian's appropriation of philosophy enabled rhetoric, a practical, skills-oriented discipline, to become also the means for character formation within Roman schools and beyond.

Early in my career I studied the history of topical invention in order to discover the basis for a distinctive, substantive, and coherent theory of rhetorical argumentation. The effort reflected the dominant academic assumptions of the time, and it proved both frustrating and instructive. Eventually, I concluded that my objective was misdirected. When theoretical coherence became the goal of topical invention (as in Boethius), the topics lost connection with rhetorical interests and applications and became part of a self-contained scholastic enterprise. But when treated more loosely as precepts that helped develop a capacity for action and performance in a particular case (as in Quintilian), the topics emerged not only as more useful but as more directly connected to the distinctive characteristics of rhetorical art. This shift in emphasis for “substance” and “theory” to “action” and “performance” corresponds to a general change in attitudes toward rhetoric that has occurred during the last three decades. This change may lead to a revisionism that extends beyond the teaching of individual courses and encourages consideration of rhetoric as a curriculum.

Click to increase image sizeClick to decrease image size Notes 1. This emphasis on pedagogy is consistent with the consensus formed at the 2003 Alliance of Rhetoric Societies Conference held in Evanston, Illinois, summed up in Jeffrey Walker's statement there, “What makes rhetoric rhetoric is its teaching tradition.” For more on this position, see the essays in the Summer 2004 (volume 34, issue 3) issue of Rhetoric Society Quarterly, especially Gerard A. Hauser's Hauser , Gerard A. “Teaching Rhetoric: Or Why Rhetoric Isn't Just Another Kind of Philosophy or Literary Criticism.” Rhetoric Society Quarterly 34 ( 2004 ): 39 – 53 . [CSA] [Taylor & Francis Online] , [Google Scholar] “Teaching Rhetoric: Or Why Rhetoric Isn't Just Another Kind of Philosophy or Literary Criticism.”

In responding to Gunn and Lundberg's critique of her report on rhetorical agency, Geisler uses their Ouija Board metaphor to undertake an analysis of what it might mean to teach the post‐modern rhetor. In particular, once the autonomous agent has been denaturalized, members of the profession of rhetoric have plenty to do in helping students first to engage with and then to participate in a more appropriately theorized rhetoric. Like the Ouija Board player, we may not be able to know how the results of our classroom teaching are related to our intentions. But—like every other rhetor—we need to recognize the costs of walking away from the game.

Abstract This essay offers a phenomenological assessment of the moral and rhetorical nature of acknowledgment. The dynamics of acknowledgment arise with the ontological structure of human existence, with our way of being spatial and temporal creatures whose existence, in an epideictic display, opens us to the future. From out of this openness comes a call of conscience, an evocation and a provocation that speaks to us of the importance of an essential vocation: teaching. Mitch Albom's Tuesdays with Morrie is offered as a case study of this entire process.

these reflections on working group discussions held at the ARS meeting has quickly taken me back to Evanston in mid-September 2003 and to the extraordinarily productive and provocative work that got done there. I vividly remember listening as Jerzy Axer and then Jeffrey Walker sounded an emergent theme: rhetoric, they said, is a teaching tradition. I remember being surprised at this theme - in fact, I would not have predicted it, and that surprise took me even further back, to the disappointment I felt in having a proposal rejected for an ISHR meeting: awe do not accept papers on pedagogy, the letter said. The dismissal of pedagogy is not unique to ISHR, of course; MLA and NGA have also been reluctant to yield pedagogy a place at the disciplinary table. Even in the GGGG, which was founded on pedagogical concerns, a sometimes bitter conflict has sprung up between theory and practice, with those advocating for the crucial role of theory arguing that studies in composition/rhetoric will not prosper or mature unless the field gives up its attachment to practice, to pedagogy. So I was surprised at the primacy of pedagogy at the ARS conference, and I was heartened by it as well. As Mike Leff has since remarked, at ARS, all roads lead to teaching. In his essay in this issue, Jerry Hauser offers a retrospective explanation for the marginalization of pedagogy and teaching: the ancient Greek rhetorical tradition, grounded in the paedeia and on the capacitating the individual student to lead the life of an active and responsible citizen gave way to the model of the German research institution, with its emphasis on and valorization of discovering new knowledge. This is an elegant explanation, one that leads to Hauser's equally elegant peroration: capacitating students to be competent citizens is our birthright It has been ours since antiquity. Modern education has stripped us of We need to reclaim it. What became increasingly clear to me is that a second key term that animated the conference - performance - must also play a central role in any such reclamation. In retrospect, I realized that every keynote address touched not only on pedagogy but also on performance: the performance of teaching; the performance of civic duty and discourse; the performance of student speaking and writing; the performance of disciplinarity. As I listened and talked, the focus on performance and pedagogy seemed perfectly to bridge the rhetoric/composition and communication traditions to which

Abstract At the conclusion of the Evanston conference, the groups that had been working on Pedagogy affirmed the position: ‘ “What makes rhetoric rhetoric is its teaching tradition.” The formation of an alliance among the various scholarly societies with a self‐identified interest in rhetoric offers a unique opportunity to advance a collective assertion of what rhetoric scholars study and teach, what binds our several traditions together as a disciplinary practice, what are its disciplinary strengths in the development of our students’ capacity (dunamis) as individuals, and why this mode of education is valuable for a free society. Three pedagogy groups developed far‐reaching proposals for the ways we might reassert rhetoric education's centrality in the modern university. Spanning these was their call for ARS to commission a manifesto recovering the value of rhetoric education as central to civic education.

Abstract Among the thirty or so historians gathered to discuss the question of “rhetorical tradition” at the inaugural Alliance of Rhetoric Societies meeting, there was virtual agreement that the concept of a single tradition would not stand without critique, interrogation, and pluralization. The two groups took somewhat different paths outward from the notion of a unified tradition, one spending more time elaborating a range of historiographical models and the other dwelling on questions of value and purpose in the enterprise of writing and teaching histories of rhetoric They reached agreement in discussions of inventive approaches to curriculum development and the need for a proliferation of scholarly projects and resources.

I often run along a path near my home. Recently I noticed something about my behavior: On especially crowded days I seldom greet either walkers or bikers, who are often talking in couples or riding by at high speeds. But when I meet other runners, I almost always say or signal hello. I interpret my greeting practice as a mode of identification: identifying with others sharing a running practice. For certain purposes, runners might identify with walkers and bikers, for example, in a civic action to save the path from the encroachment of housing developers. But within the group of pathway users, I identify primarily with other runners and, in a certain sense, we form a loose community of running practitioners. This is a very, very rough analogy for what happens at local university functions, at national scholarly conferences, and at non-academic events of all kinds, rhetorical contexts where disciplinary identities are established and reinforced for professional and lay audiences. To analyze performances of disciplinary identities in more depth, I'd like to begin heuristically with a three-dimensional model for locating academic fields in relation to each other. Axis A (Disciplinary Matrices) consists of practices, theories, and traditions; Axis B (Field Boundaries) includes disciplines, interdisciplines, transdisciplines, and non-disciplines; and Axis C (Cultural Sites) comprises ideational domains, material institutions, and public spheres.' Academic disciplines and their subfields can be identified and compared across the different axes of this model. For example, the disciplinary matrix of English Studies includes interpretive practices for critically reading, researching, and teaching texts; aesthetic and other theories for defining textual objects of study; and evolving traditions of texts to be described, compared, and evaluated (canons of literary, critical, and theoretical works). In the twentieth century, English as this matrix of practices, theories, and traditions (Axis A) was identified as a separate discipline (Axis B) with its own ideational domain in relation to other disciplines and its own subfields, institutionalized as an academic department within the

Abstract This essay explores the rhetorical education of nineteenth‐century women attending the Westfield State Normal School, the second public and first co‐educational normal school in the United States. Archival research reveals that Westfield developed a program of rhetorical study that aimed to prepare both men and women to use oral and written persuasive discourse in their work as teachers. Westfield justified its progressive curriculum by arguing that advanced study in rhetoric would help future teachers to foster learning, win respect, and achieve meaningful moral influence among their pupils. While traditional gender ideologies at times complicated the efforts of female students to master oral and written persuasive discourse, Westfield's faculty and students remained committed throughout the century to the idea that study in rhetoric would aid the future teacher in cultivating a powerful public voice.

Abstract As a feminist scholar, I prefer to pursue primary research partly because it allows me to cooperate with other scholars instead of opposing them. I employ the feminist method of engagement with, not detachment from, the object of research, a holistic approach using rhetorical ethos and pathos as well as logos. However, I avoid taking positions excessively driven by ideology, or swayed by ultra‐relativism. Instead, I try to present the author's ideas in her own context. Feminist research is valuable as pure research, but it can also be useful in teaching. Future projects should include further study of the rhetorical theories of historical women, and some attempt to contribute to theorizing of sermo.

On Television, by Pierre Bourdieu; translated by Priscilla Parkhurst Ferguson. New York, New Press 1996. 104 pp. The Self after Postmodernity by Calvin O. Schrag. New Haven: Yale UP, 1997. 155pp. Assuming the Positions: Cultural Pedagogy and the Politics of Commonplace Writing by Susan Miller. Pittsburgh: U of Pittsburgh P, 1998. 339 pp. Reason to Believe: Romanticism, Pragmatism, and the Teaching of Writing by Hephzibah Roskelly and Kate Ronald. Albany, NY: State University of New York P, 1998. 187 pp. The Creation/Evolution Controversy: A Battle for Cultural Power by Kary Doyle Smout Westport: Praeger, 1998. 209 pp.

T his paper deals with the embodiment in Cicero's De Oratore of a particular rhetorical method. The method is referred to by the Romans as controversia and by the Sophists before them as antilogic and involves the conduct of argument by placing two or more opposing claims in juxtaposition. I will argue that instead of discussing controversia in a formal manner, by abstracting its general nature and detailing its logical parts (diaeresis), Cicero chooses to dramatize controversia in order to transcend abstract principles and allow his students direct access to argument in action. In a word, Cicero chooses to perform the subject, and in so doing to give substance or body to theory and pedagogy. In the process, he also pursues his own most cherished philosophical objective, which is to bring res and verba, the thing and the word into synthesis. I will further suggest that the rhetoric of embodiment which Cicero develops in De Oratore is replete with interesting pedagogical implications. Like much of Cicero's published work, De Oratore was intended to serve as a model for imitation by others (see Axer 59). In this case, the text models both a particular set of rhetorical principles and a distinctive pedagogical stance for teaching them. I am particularly interested in what the pedagogy of De Oratore has to say to us today about an appropriate approach to the teaching of argumentation.' But before I begin with Cicero, De Oratore, antilogic, controversia, and the rhetoric of embodiment, I would go back even further in history, from Rome to the eastern Mediterranean, from the eloquence of Cicero to the arguments of Odysseus, that other man famous for dealing with contention (Odyssey 1.2). You will recall that when Odysseus leaves Calypso after seven years as a captive on her paradisal island, he sails away on a log raft which breaks up in a large storm sent by Poseidon. When it looks as though he is doomed to drown, he laments that all he has accomplished on his way home will perish with him. Would that I had died on the fields of Troy, he cries, where all my deeds would have been noted, praised, and preserved (5.306-12). What Odysseus is concerned with here is his kleos: his fame, honor, stature, renown, that standard heroic obsession that one's reputation will ring out under heaven (8.74f; cf. Thalmann 60-69). Instead of a life of adventure marked by kleos, however, Odysseus in Book V is faced with death at sea, a death unmarked and lonely (5.312). What is notable for us in this episode is that kleos appears only to exist in the reports on one's life; i.e. it requires discourse to give it substance, enough substance to transcend the event itself. Consequently, when Odysseus arrives on land and is taken by Nausikaa to the Phaiakian court, he acts the part of a poet as well as a hero (11.68-69) by recounting his adventures and in the process giving form to his kleos. Discursive enactment, therefore, becomes the only way in which the unforgettable experi-

T hroughout this essay, I argue that the three primary extant fragments of Gorgias of Leontini-On Non-Existence (or On Nature), the Encomium of Helen, and the Defense of Palamedes-are not disparate or contradictory statements, as is often assumed, but intricately interrelated and internally consistent contributions to a complex theory and art (techne') of rhetoric. Of course, we cannot argue that Gorgias composed these texts with a holistic rhetorical task in mind; however, reconstructing and interpreting On Non-Existence, the Helen, and the Palamedes holistically does shed significant new light on our current understanding of Gorgias' emerging theory and techne' of rhetoric. In brief, On Non-Existence describes the effects that externally given realities (ta onta) have on the human psyche (psuche), the Helen explores the unethical workings of the persuasive arts on the human psuche, and the Palamedes demonstrates rhetorical topoi for the invention of arguments designed to move the human psuche' of a forensic audience to ethical action. Reconstructed thus as a holistic statement, Gorgias' primary extant fragments theorize the social nature of linguistic symbols and explore their artistic uses for both unethical and ethical purposes; and as a holistic interpretation of the extant fragments demonstrates, Gorgias favors the topical invention of ethical arguments over the magical invention of false arguments, unsupported opinions, and deliberate deceptions. Criticism of Gorgianic rhetoric as inartistic is almost as ancient as the very texts themselves. Plato, who probably wrote some of his earliest dialogues while Gorgias was still living and teaching in Athens, argues that Gorgianic rhetoric is not a techne. In the Gorgias, for example, Plato (through the mouthpiece of Socrates) tells the character Gorgias that his conception and practice of rhetoric whose scope is logos is not a true art but merely a false art, a form of flattery because its goal is to elicit pleasure and not to discover the Good. Moreover, in the Phaedrus Plato explains that sophistic rhetoric is irrational and thus atechnical because it is not founded on truth discovered through the principles of philosophical dialectic. No activity, according to Plato, is artistic unless it begins with a foundation of pure universal knowledge discovered through dialectical inquiry, and it is precisely because those who claim to teach and practice the art of rhetoric are ignorant of dialectic that they incapable of properly defining rhetoric, and that in turn leads them to imagine that by possessing themselves of the requisite antecedent learning they have discovered the art itself' (269b). But if we accept Plato's philosophy/rhetoric demarcation along with the claim that all

James L. Kinneavy, who was until this year the Blumberg Centennial Profes sor of English at the University of Texas, has been one of the major influences on the development of composition for more than 25 years. His bestknown book, A Theory of Discourse, published in 1971, is credited by many in our field with promoting the revival of rhetoric in university English That book was followed in 1976 by Aims and Audiences in Writing and Writing-Basic Modes of Organization (Both written with John Cope and J.W. Campbell). Kinneavy's theory of discourse relies on his definition of discourse as any utterance having a beginning, middle and end, and a purpose. He explained his theory graphically by means of his well-known communications triangle. this interview, conducted in May 1996 in Austin, Texas, he offers some ways that the triangle can be used in teaching writing. He also uses the trianglewith its acknowledged debt to Jakobson-to generate his theory of the major aims of discourse. Using this taxonomy, Kinneavy attempts to explain the basic organizational pattern of each aim of discourse. But Kinneavy does not wish to be known solely or even principally as a taxonomer, for, as he says, taxonomy is only a part of theory, and he has extended much of his influence as a theorist and historian of rhetoric. His 1987 book, Greek Rhetorical Origins of Christian Faith, explains how the new testament idea of faith grew out of the use of the term pisteis by Isocrates and Aristotle. Kairos is another term frequently associated with Kinneavy because of his lucid explanation of the term in his work. Kinneavy is credited with demonstrating the moral aspect of kairos, establishing a link between it and justice by arguing that to be moral and just means to observe the proper measure in action and words. At the end of the interview, with typical Kinneavian modesty in response to a question about how he looks back on his career as a scholar and teacher, he concedes that In the discipline of rhetoric, tried to recognize the importance of history and the importance of theory and the importance of the empirical. Finally, with a touch of pride, he closes with this admission: I think one of the most important contributions gave to rhetoric as a discipline was as one of the people-Corbett comes to mind; a lot of other people come to mind-who gave rhetoric a respectable name as a scholarly discipline in English departments. Few, if any, of the many members of our profession whose minds have been touched by Kinneavy would disagree.

The Lost Cause of Rhetoric: The Relation of Rhetoric and Geometry in Aristotle and Lacan by David Metzger. Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP, 1995. xvi; 135. Roman Rhetoric: Revolution and the Greek Influence by Richard Leo Enos. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press, 1995; xii + 135pp. Nineteenth‐Century Women Learn to Write edited by Catherine Hobbs. Charlottesville and London, University of Virginia Press, 1995. 343 pp. Kenneth Burke and Contemporary European Thought edited by Bernard L. Brock. Tuscaloosa, U of Alabama P, 1995; xii; 279 pp. A Teacher's Introduction to Composition in the Rhetorical Tradition by W. Ross Winterowd & Jack Blum. Urbana, IL: National Council of Teachers of English, 1994. A Teacher's Introduction to Postmodernism by Ray Linn Urbana, IL: National Council of Teachers of English, 1996.

The early works of I. A. Richards, while not committed to hard-line verificationism, nonetheless seem persuaded of the central tenet of logical positivism, that the only truth strictly so-called is the truth disclosed by the methods of empirical science. This minimal positivism, coupled with a non-physicalist form of behaviorism, is evident in books like Science and Poetry (1926) and Principles of Literary Criticism (1925). However, if Richards was a positivist, he was a positivist who wanted to save poetry from positivism. Primitive positivists like A. J. Ayer impenitently regarded poetic discourse as meaningless. Since they are neither analytic nor available for empirical testing, the statements found in poems are really pseudo-statements, expressions of feeling and no more. Richards, who loved poetry, feared that people would cease to read it or write it if they were convinced that it was nothing but emotional gush. And so, in his early books, he developed an affectivism in which poetry, by helping us order our conflicting impulses, acquires a value distinct from the value of science. On this view, poetry is not a means of expressing and communicating propositional truth-only science does that-but a device for constructive behavior-modification by means of language. Meanwhile, from the very beginning of his career, Richards had been a diligent student of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. He was convinced that the works of Coleridge contained many important insights into the nature and effects of poetry which, in order to be made generally accessible and secure wider appreciation, needed only to be disentangled from the metaphysics of romantic idealism in which they were embedded. Quotations from Coleridge appeared with great frequency in his own writing and teaching. Kathleen Coburn predicted that sooner or later Richards would have to write a book on Coleridge, and eventually her prophecy was fulfilled. Setting out to rewrite Coleridge in the language of empiricism, Richards produced Coleridge on Imagination (1934), which suggested to some of his readers that Richards had not converted Coleridge to empiricism but that Coleridge had made Richards an idealist, if not a metaphysical then at least a linguistic idealist. It is the Richards thus baptized in the Alphean flood who speaks in the lectures on The Philosophy of Rhetoric (1936) delivered two years after the publication of the Coleridge book.' From first to last, in all his writings and through all his changes of mind, Richards insisted that he was a pragmatist. And indeed, in every project he undertakes, from Basic English to literary theory, he is unfailingly preoccupied with the practice of reading and the possibilities of communication. If behaviorism and romanticism are just the low-mimetic (preterite) and high-mimetic (elite) forms of pragmatism, respectively, then Richards' progress from the former to

As Sharon Crowley claims, first question asked of any research is 'What use is it in the classroom?' (Politics 7). Knowledge of the history of rhetoric should enable us to lecture persuasively, to convince our students of the significance of the rhetorical texts which we and our colleagues research. This essay will address the challenges in teaching the Latin rhetoric of the Middle Ages compellingly. Despite the astounding productivity of scholars in medieval rhetoric-despite the discoveries of new manuscripts, editions of pedagogical glosses and theorization of medieval precepts for communication-unfortunately, in many American survey courses, medieval Latin rhetoric is still presented with Elizabethan disgust.' It is typically introduced as wrongheaded excursion away from classical principles toward the slavish study of rhetorical formulae. While evaluating trends in scholarship on rhetoric's history, Kathleen Welch implies one reason for the dismissal of medieval rhetors: a nostalgia for the perceived golden past in the classical world. . (85). Here, I am proposing that, in order to cultivate greater understanding and respect, we must find other lectern generalizations than those current about medieval Latin rhetoric in history of rhetoric surveys. I suggest one alternative: that many of the accomplishments of medieval rhetoric correspond to the Burkean theory of identification. The Generals of History

The Horn Collection (MS Gen. 1824) comprises a fifteen-box, un-indexed collection of papers, drafts, notes, and miscellaneous items of David Baynes former Professor of History at the University of Edinburgh. This wideranging collection contains numerous items that will be of interest to historians of rhetoric, logic, philosophy, and education. At the time of his death in October 1969, D. B. Professor of Modern History at the University of Edinburgh, was engaged in writing a full-length history of his university. The University Court (Senate) had given Horn two years leave of absence to write a full-scale History of the University of according to his letter to the Edinburgh Town Clerk, dated 4 March 1968. Horn had earlier completedA Short History of the University of Edinburgh, 1556-1889, which was published by the Edinburgh University Press in 1967. his letter to the Town Clerk, Horn described the parameters of his plan: In the first instance, I would limit myself to the period when the Town Council acted as patrons of the University, that is down to 1858. Horn had made significant progress in the last twenty months of his life toward his goal of publishing a full history of his beloved University. Judging from the draft materials, Horn appears nearly to have completed the project. His papers and miscellaneous items will be of particular interest to those tracing the history of the teaching of rhetoric and belles lettres in eighteenth and nineteenth century Britain. The broader purpose of this bibliographical essay is to highlight those materials in the Horn collection that may be of value to the interested in the general academic context of enlightenment rhetoric in the Scottish universities. The collection (MS Gen. 1824) was deposited in the University of Edinburgh Library by way of the good graces of D. B. Horn's daughter, Dr. Hazel Horn. It appears that Dr. Horn provided an initial deposit of her father's papers after his death in October, 1969, and in 1977 passed along a further large instalment of [her] father's notes and papers for his history of the University. . .[which] will clearly be of value and benefit to many scholars (Letter from Mr. Charles Finlayson, Keeper of Manuscripts, to Dr. Hazel Horn, 7 October 1977). D.B.

Consolatory Rhetoric: Grief, Symbol and Ritual in the Greco‐Roman Era by Donovan J. Ochs. Columbia, S.C.: University of South Carolina Press, 1993; xiv + 130pp. Ancient Rhetorics for Contemporary Students by Sharon Crowley. New York: Macmillan, 1994. 364 pages; glossary; time‐line of important moments in Greek and Roman rhetoric; bibliography; index. Landmark Essays on Kenneth Burke. Edited by Barry Brummett. Davis, CA: Hermagoras P, 1993; xix; 290 pp. Ramon Hull's New Rhetoric: Text and Translation of Llull's Rethorica Nova. Ed. and Trans. Mark D. Johnson. Davis, CA: Hermagoras Press, 1994; 1; 109. Thinking Through Theory: Vygotskian Perspectives on the Teaching of Writing by James Thomas Zebroski. Portsmouth, NH: Boynton/Cook P, 1994. 334 pages. A Social History of Truth: Civility and Science in Seventeenth‐Century England, by Steven Shapin. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1994. Pp. 483.

(1994). Teaching stones to talk: Using stasis theory to teach students the art of dialectic. Rhetoric Society Quarterly: Vol. 24, No. 3-4, pp. 88-95.

Collaborative Learning: Higher Education, Interdependence, and the Authority of Knowledge by Kenneth A. Bruffee. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U P 1993. Scenarios for Teaching Writing: Contexts for Discussion and Reflective Practice by Chris M. Anson, Joan Graham, David A. Jolliffe, Nancy S. Shapiro, and Carolyn H. Smith. Urbana, NCTE, 1993. 160 pp. Seeing Yourself as a Teacher: Conversations with Five New Teachers in a University Writing Program by Elizabeth Rankin. Urbana, NCTE, 1994. 136 pp. Evaluating Teachers of Writing, ed. by Christine A. Hult Urbana, NCTE, 1994. 189 pp. Arguing the Apocalypse: A Theory of Millennial Rhetoric, by Stephen D. O'Leary. New York: Oxford U P, 1994, pp. 314. Oratorical Culture in Nineteenth‐Century America: Transformations in the Theory and Practice of Rhetoric, ed. Gregory Clark and S. Michael Halloran. Southern Illinois UP, 1994. 281pp. Rhetoric and Reality in Plato's Phaedrus by David A. White. Albany, SUNY P, 1993. 340 pp.

Whatever dates Composition historians suggest as the beginning of modern composition studies whether it's 1949-50 with the founding of the Conference on College Composition and Communication, or 1961 with the publication of Richard Braddock, Richard Lloyd-Jones, and Lowell Schoer's Research in Written Composition, or 1971 with the publication of Janet Emig's The Composing Processes of Twelfth Graders they all agree that the modern study of written communication is at least two decades old, with its gradual emergence occurring over decade or so. One way of marking the emergence of this new discipline is to look for the rise of what Robert Connors has called a coherently evolved of composition (Introduction xii). In fact, the journal literature of the 1950s and early 1960s is full of suggestions for theoretical foundation for the study and teaching of writing. Finding coherent theory that the field could embrace, however, was problematic.

Coleridge criticism has a stormy quality about it, as if what we know about Coleridge is something we see only by flashes of lightning over some dark landscape. In Experience Into Thought, Kathleen Coburn says that Coleridge is irritating to certain tempers, perhaps especially to the curriculum-making academic mind(67). Her statement is ironic. Coleridge was always working on curriculum. His rage for a system that included the irrational and lucky graces forced him into whole courses about thinking and language, whole encyclopedias of knowledge. Still, the plan in most academic circles seems to have been to place Samuel Taylor Coleridge in the canon as a fragment of history and forget him. After long years of reading criticism about Samuel Taylor Coleridge rather than reading his works, it is time to see if there is a Coleridge worth claiming for rhetoric and composition. One problem in validating a Coleridge for our time is reading him. It seems that we have lost the habit of reading his kind of discourse. Perhaps because of his translations and readings of the German Transcendentalists, Coleridge's prose wanders and speculates, opposes its central premises, comments on itself incessantly. Composition scholars see him as an antithesis of the kind of style recommended in our classrooms and in our journals. Also, as composition studies attempt to establish territory in departmental turf wars, Coleridge becomes an easy target for those who would use him to demonstrate how literary concerns should not be included in composition pedagogy. As much as some might want Coleridge to go away, he will not. Linda Flower argues that Coleridge's inspirational model for composition is a threat to the teaching of composition (Problem-Solving). Ross Winterowd asserts that Coleridge is a primary reason for the devaluation of the literature of fact because his theory of composition or rhetoric lacks purpose (64). In both cases, eminent scholars and researchers in the field of composition are reacting to a stereotypical view of Coleridge and his works, as if the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner and Kubla Khan represent Coleridge's philosophy and theory of composition. But there is more to Coleridge's philosophy of composition than his poems, his theory of imagination in Biographia Literaria, or his criticism suggest. Kenneth

Sixteenth-century English humanist educators claimed that their educational programs prepared students for civic life by providing not just technical training in language use, but a more important ethical and moral training. The present discussion is to examine this claim, particularly as it applies to the question of what might have been the role of imitation exercises informing students' ethical character. When one considers imitation pedagogy in the general context of humanist education and in the particular context of the reading method prescribed by Erasmus, one finds that such exercises served not only as means by which student writers might assimilate the characteristic style and habits of thinking of the models they choose, but, in fact, such exercises were tools for students' ethical indoctrination. Anthony Grafton and Lisa Jardine question whether humanist educators actually could have made good their claim to provide moral training or preparation for civic life (122). Examining the evidence available for the practices of humanist teachers, Grafton and Jardine contend that humanist education at its best was little more than training in Latin language skills. In support of their contention, Grafton and Jardine discuss the early fifteenth-century teaching practices of Guarino Guarini of Verona and the lectures of later Roman and Florentine rhetoricians, such as Buonaccorso Massari. By examining students' notes from such lectures, Grafton and Jardine conclude that the approach of these humanists to the classical texts was so unstructured and fraught with philological detail that students could not have been prepared by such education to confront larger questions concerning the attitudes and beliefs [which inform an entire text] either to endorse them, or to challenge them (58-67). To consider Grafton and Jardine's question as it applies to sixteenth-century English humanist educators' use of imitation pedagogy, one must first recall how the political conditions and religious strife of the English Renaissance affected the sort of education the English humanists advocated. Political and religious indoctrination became important aspects of sixteenth-century English humanist education even while such education retained the characteristic rhetorical nature of earlier Renaissance humanist education. According to William Bouwsma, early Renaissance Italian humanism was characterized by an emphasis on rhetoric, a cultural relativism, and an intellectual rejection of older conceptions of order, or cosmos. But northern European Renaissance culture of 1450 onwards was characteristically inclined to reassert intellectual order and authority as political, religious, and cultural forces of order (particularly the monarchies and the papacy) reasserted their power (422-431). In England, the Tudor monarchy began to assert first its political authority and later, with Henry VIII's break with Rome, its religious authority. Grafton and Jardine explain that at the same time it was left for northern European humanist educators, particularly Erasmus, to make humanism practicable in the classroom, to change philological method into pedagogical method. Fifteenth-century Italian humanists at Rome and Florence had lectured brilliantly, elucidating by philological method obscure classical texts

readers a philosophical endorsement of rhetoric, an argument for narrative, a hypotactical defense of parataxis, and a serious discussion of playfulness. The one exception to this cryptodialectical commentary is Jarratt's second chapter. There she skillfully avoids the binary trope of mythos-logos, rejects convincingly the logic of linear historical progress, and demonstrates nicely how the sophistical affinity for nomos shifts our attention from a questionable and outdated dichotomy to a field large enough to include both binary terms and meaningful enough to transcend their differences. Dismissing neither mythos nor logos, nomos appropriates both, and in so doing invents something other that problematizes the already familiar. Unfortunately, the story of nomos is only half of a larger sophistical story. The other, opposing half, the story of physis, finds itself associated only with the philosophers. Insofar as Antiphon's and Hippias' arguments for physis support part of her agenda, this omission or misassociation is all the more perplexing. In the 1850's George Grote observed that the sophists were the mainstream intellectuals in their culture and Plato an eccentric reformer. True, many historians of philosophy reversed this historical reality, making Plato the intellectual king and the sophists his unworthy subjects. Now Jarratt urges historians of rhetoric to give the sophists, women, and teachers of English composition a more prominent role in the new histories of rhetoric. Recent works by Vickers, Conley, and Bizzell are already doing what she is urging. If Jarratt is looking for more recognition as a historian of rhetoric, a feminist intellectual, and a teacher of college composition, she has a great deal more support than she may realize.

Almost all modern historians of rhetoric have undertaken to separate the men from the boys. But while rhetoric itself was talked about among men, it was to boys, and the handbooks that we have inherited-as well as most of those that we have lost-were intended for the instruction of the young. Feminist objections to classical rhetoric as been conducted among men-not women are consonant with this analysis, but I wish to emphasize here the ageism and academic self-hatred that we support when we accept the suppression of the pedagogical aspects of the history of our profession.' The dismissal of earlier pedagogical textbooks by both traditional and revisionist historians of rhetoric seems to me to be part of post-romantic unteachability topos, which assumes that what is most important about education is what least resembles the classroom.2 This topos is reinforced by more recent one that can be equally debilitating: the fear of teaching topos, in which having taught becomes synonymous with having oppressed.3 We can see their suppression of the pedagogical focus of classical rhetoric in the choice of rhetoric texts from earlier eras that traditional historians elevate to authoritative status. At one extreme is the modern canonization of Aristotle's Rhetoric, text that was never popular as pedagogical treatise in the ancient world, and at the other the rejection of Cicero's De invenltione and the Pseudo-Ciceronian Rhetorica ad Herenniurn. two rhetoric handbooks widely used in schools for hundreds of years. It is to the credit of traditional historians of rhetoric who are attempting to reclaim classical rhetoric as viable and important pedagogical alternative that they have been affected by this prejudice against pedagogy more in what they say than in what they do. Corbett's Handbook of Classical Rhetoric, for example, lavishly praises Aristotle's Rhetoric but, as the title reveals, presents its pedagogical material in fashion much closer to that of the Ciceronian tradition. Thomas Sloane, making passionate appeal in College English for the reclaiming of Ciceronian invention, dismisses De inventione as a famous and regrettably enduring handbook (462) before proceeding to extrapolate pedagogical content readily available in De invenhtione from the more diffuse and less pedagogically relevant De oratore.4

The ancient sophists' investigation of physis and nomos, which took place against backdrop of unpopular and unsettling Peloponnesian War, challenged foundations of Greek society. Although essentially patriarchal nature of Greek society precludes assuming any concern for status of women, in many fundamental ways sophists' project was not unlike that of modern feminists who also question dominant definitions and categories of gendered subjectivity (Jarratt Feminism). In United States, a great deal of current feminist theory also emerged in wake of unpopular Vietnam War. War promotes and depends upon cultural bonding and social solidarity to produce patriotic fervor and unquestioning allegiance to state. In these two eras, eventual unpopularity of war-which irritated and was irritated by renegotiation of class and economic boundariesopened questions about status of citizenship, economic privilege, family life and, of course, gender roles. In both eras these changes were endorsed by many who had heretofore been excluded from many of benefits of patriarchy, but they were resisted by others who feared losing or sharing privilege. Although popular mythology insists upon illusion of progressive enlightenment, there is ample evidence to support argument that periods of progressive change have often been followed by periods of repression and even regression (Kelly). The sophists' project came to an abrupt end when their pluralistic argument and pragmatic adaptations were replaced by monolithic patriarchal certainty of Plato and Aristotle-a certainty which in various guises still operates on modern society. In Page duBois's words, Plato, in fourth century, appropriated feminine and particularly reproductive metaphors in order to reaffirm old patterns of dominance and to establish through new rationalization certain objects of knowledge, certain forms of power (2). Currently, we are experiencing a similar conservative backlasheconomic, racist, and sexist-which, as Susan Jeffords's work on Vietnam War shows, enacts the large-scale renegotiation and regeneration of interests, values, and projects of patriarchy now taking place in U.S. social relations (xi). The sophistic era was marked by intellectual excitement, but sophists' explorations were not universally acclaimed nor were they even in agreement with each other. Some of their ideas threatened members of aristocracy who were eager to undo democratic reforms, while other ideas, for example famous dictum that justice is interest of stronger, threatened democratic principles. The basis of sophistic practice and teaching was discovery and exposition of opposing and contradictory arguments-dissoi logoi-in order to provide their students with training in moral reasoning and discursive ability which would allow them to assume civic responsibility

I am about to argue for strengthening place of in teaching of writing. Recent work in and composition is already studded with appeals to and to philosophers, and such appeals have been made for many different purposes. My own reason for pursuing in this context is for purpose of setting up productive conflict among terms philosophy, politics and rhetoric. Although part of way I measure productiveness of this conflict is by its ability to reveal interdependence of terms, I intend more specifically to argue for as way of responding to-and to some degree resisting-the inevitable politicizing of teaching of writing. Consequently my appeal to differs in purpose from Ann Berthoff's famous appeal to as study which enables us to understand relationship between, in Richards' terms, what is said and what is meant, or, in Berthoff's own words, the nexus of hermeneutics and semiotics (Counter-Response 84). This account of is strongly slanted by orientation of literary critic-to point where a of knowledge becomes equivalent to a theory of imagination (Forming 6). Berthoff puts this theoretical commitment to work in pedagogy that uses classroom as philosophic laboratory in which teachers teach students how to form by teaching them that they form (2). I share John Schilb's concern that this formulation won't be able to help clarify relation of philosophy and rhetoric (67-68) in any useful way. More to point, I also share Schilb's belief that understanding of relation of and can be enlivened by consideration of how politics can serve

In an Afterword to their book Writing Across Discipline: Research into Practice, Art Young and Toby Fulwiler speak of the enemies of writing across curriculum (287) ... most significant of which, they suggest, may be collectively, a set of entrenched attitudes ... shared to some extent by faculty, administrators, students, and general public (292-3). The attitudes described are in many ways predictable, running from seeing of any organized attempt to change teaching strategy as an attack on academic freedom, all way down to such assertions as:

For me it is a starting point in all thought about language that, whatever I say or do with words, my expression will never mean exactly the same thing to you that it does to me; and of course yours will never mean exactly the same thing to me that it does to you. It cannot: each act of expression is a gesture against a context; it derives its meaning largely, perhaps entirely, from its relation to that context; and for each of us the context of every gesture is different, if only because one of us is doing it, the other observing. Think of the tennis game, and how differently the same shot is experienced by you and by me. From your point of view, having made the play, the ball disappears across the net into the larger scene from which it is about to be returned; for me, the ball emerges from such a scene to become increasingly the object of focus and potential action. For you the shot is something done; for me it constitutes a challenge: Can I respond? This is to focus on the difference between the sender and the receiver, between the person who writes words in her study, on a pad, then sees them printed and sent forth into the world to merge with all the other books and articles out there, and the other person, who finds this book or article among the others, idly glances at it, or chooses to read it with care, and thus locates it within the world of the other texts that he has known. This is one difference, but not the only one, for our sense of context and action is different in many other ways as well: our sense of the words themselves is different, for they have different histories for each of us; our sense of the way words are related by syntax varies too, since, as any language teacher knows, we inhabit different syntactical worlds; and our experience of the natural world, of other people, of institutions, of other gestures on other occasions-all of which provide parts of the context against which the particular performance occursvary too. My meaning can never be your meaning; all writing is a way of addressing, or avoiding, that fact. It is this theme that I wish to pursue in responding to the various articles written about my work, beginning with that by Eugene Garver.

Commentators have interpreted Richard M. Weaver's philosophy of rhetoric and culture from variety of perspectives, each of which captures some important aspect of Weaver's project. He has been analyzed, for instance, as an advocate of political conservatism, as inheritor of Southern Agrarian beliefs, as defender of Old South principles and contributions, as cultural critic, as rhetorical theorist, and as teacher of rhetoric.' I, and others, have characterized him as Platonic idealist.2 In opposition to this latter characterization, Charles Follette argues in his dissertation a fundamentally Christian vision constitutes the real core of Weaver's work.3 Upon reconsideration I now would modify my earlier position and take more literally and seriously Weaver's self-characterization in 1948. In making perfectly clear the premises from which he starts and the grounds of his argument, Weaver declares his willingness to be identified with those thinkers in the Platonic-Christian tradition who believe that form is prior to substance, and ideas are determinants.4 I believe the hyphen in Platonic-Christian is important as clue and guide throughout his works. His philosophical assumptions and world view stem from an emergent heritage and reflect synthesis of the two traditions. Elsewhere I have demonstrated at length the ways in which Weaver's descriptions of idealist assumptions routinely reflect Platonic idealism.5 And to