The Major in Writing Studies (with emphases in Professional Writing and in Journalism) at the University of Minnesota Duluth marks a curricular innovation. This profile traces the intellectual arguments that created space for a Department and Major in Writing Studies at UMD. Those arguments included a differentiation from the contested spaces of other disciplines (literary studies and communication studies) as well as from the prior disciplinary identity of the Department (composition studies). These arguments also included a positive identification of Writing Studies as one of the disciplines defined by its object (akin to American Studies, Women’s Studies, etc.). The object of Writing Studies at UMD is writing, defined as a practice, a tool for cognition and social action, and a force for sociocultural change. These arguments are manifest in the core curriculum of the major (16 credits of courses across all four years of the students’ coursework).

In God's Politics evangelical minister Jim Wallis uses what I call “prophetic alchemy,” a strategy meant to reconcile and combine two opposing viewpoints—particularly liberal secularists and conservative Christians—into one progressive agenda for social change. Prophetic alchemy is magical thinking through argument, and as rhetorical strategy it participates in Kenneth Burke's alchemic tropes, particularly transcendence and division. In this article I review prophetic rhetoric as a genre, situate Wallis's rhetorical efforts in the timeline of the Protestant dialectic between progressive and conservative ideologies, and then analyze God's Politics as it participates in prophecy by attempting to reconcile opposing audiences through the symbolic power of prophetic alchemy.

In this essay I discuss and exemplify a wide range of nontraditional concepts and texts as they relate to the rhetoric of intertextuality. As a result of this inquiry, I hope to give teachers of writing and their students new strategies for understanding and producing discourse. More specifically, I hope to give readers new ways of thinking about the rhetorical situation, invention, genre, arrangement, and audience.

In this essay I present the results of a national study of over 2,000 writing assignments from college courses across disciplines. Drawing on James Britton’s multidimensional discourse taxonomy and recent work in genre studies, I analyze the rhetorical features and genres of the assignments and consider the significance of my findings through the multiple lenses of writing-to-learn and writing-in-the-disciplines perspectives. Although my findings indicate limited purposes, audiences, and genres for the majority of the assignments, instructors teaching courses explicitly connected to a Writing Across the Curriculum program or initiative assigned the most writing in the most complex rhetorical situations and the most varied disciplinary genres.

Visual rhetoric fuels composition as rhetors refinish filmed moments to show others what they “see” in them. My work examines projects that model strategic discourse in public spaces. It offers ideas for achieving full and guarded disclosure when clarity is but one of several communicative goals.

This article examines the historiographic trajectory of rhetoric and composition studies by analyzing archival research practices, using Kenneth Burke’s dramatistic pentad as our analytical tool. We rely on a Burkean framework of “scenes, acts, agents, agencies, purposes, and attitudes” to invigorate our understanding of historiographic methods and to open up new possibilities for future histories of rhetoric and composition.

In this essay I present the results of a national study of over 2,000 writing assignments from college courses across disciplines. Drawing on James Britton’s multidimensional discourse taxonomy and recent work in genre studies, I analyze the rhetorical features and genres of the assignments and consider the significance of my findings through the multiple lenses of writing-to-learn and writing-in-the-disciplines perspectives. Although my findings indicate limited purposes, audiences, and genres for the majority of the assignments, instructors teaching courses explicitly connected to a Writing Across the Curriculum program or initiative assigned the most writing in the most complex rhetorical situations and the most varied disciplinary genres.

John Nicholson's The Preceptor is the first book dedicated to an explicitly Mormon rhetorical theory, which he attempts to employ in the troubled landscape of LDS missionary training. This essay examines Nicholson's advice to missionaries, and argues that The Preceptor links logos and the Holy Spirit together in homiletic division of labor, connecting traditional Christian preaching with indigenous Mormon style and theology. By studying The Preceptor we can gain an appreciation for how rhetorical theories develop specific features that reflect a particular culture's location in history and society, and examine a rhetoric that served as an alternative to mainstream American religious and secular rhetorical development.

Abstract The 1930s in America abounded with debates about language and communication. Interest in the effects of propaganda and the problems of miscommunication prompted the development of organizations like the Institute for Propaganda Analysis (1937) and Count Alfred Korzybski's Institute of General Semantics (1938). Albeit in different ways, each of these groups aimed to increase the public's awareness of the effects of language and to improve its ability to communicate. But the assumptions about language and communication held by these organizations would ultimately render them short-lived in terms of public and scholarly attention. This article examines the work of these organizations in relation to that of Kenneth Burke, and demonstrates how Burke developed his rhetorically oriented theories of communication against and in response to this rich background. Acknowledgments I am grateful to Jack Selzer for his encouragement and advice on earlier drafts of this article (as well as for inspiration, as in its original version this was written for his Kenneth Burke graduate seminar at Penn State). Thanks also to the editor and the two anonymous reviewers for their helpful comments. Notes 1For more thorough elaborations and further discussions, see, for example, Crowley; Sproule; George and Selzer. 2See, for instance, “Review of Science and Sanity by Alfred Korzybski,” The Journal of Philosophy 31 (February 1, 1934): 80–81; “Review of Science and Sanity by Alfred Korzybski,” International Journal of Ethics 44 (April 1934): 377–384; “Review of Science and Sanity by Alfred Korzybski,” The New Republic 79 (August 1, 1934): 327; “Review of Science and Sanity by Alfred Korzybski,” Supplement to Nature (October 20, 1934): 617. 3Korzybski has a curious predilection for not capitalizing names of systems (the aristotelian, newtonian, and euclidian being the most commonly used). Because most adherents to General Semantics use the same convention, I will follow it as well in this article. 4Of course, “orientation” is also a key word for Burke, especially in Permanence and Change. Burke's idea of “orientation” appears to have come directly from Korzybski: “Orientation can go wrong. Consider, for instance, what conquest over the environment we have attained through our powers of abstraction, of generalization; and then consider the stupid national or racial wars which have been fought precisely because these abstractions were mistaken for realities” (6). Burke's term, via Veblen, for problematic orientations is “trained incapacities,” or, as he defines it more completely, “a faulty selection of means due to a faulty theory of causal relationships” (9), as, for example, chickens who have been trained to eat when a bell rings will still come running when the bell signals punishment instead of food. 5In an unpublished manuscript (recently discovered, edited, and published by James Zappen), Burke notes that Korzybski's structural differential “is valuable for calling attention to an important abstractive process of language, but cannot of itself replace a mature linguistic analysis.” 6Also, while the IPA definitely experienced failure as an organization (although certainly, as I pointed out earlier, communication departments and composition programs still find value in the seven propaganda devices), it should be noted here that contrary to Condit's assertion that “I fear that general semantics has all but died out without surviving heir” (“Post-Burke” 350), in fact the Institute of General Semantics is still quite active, and has been varyingly influential in the fields of cognitive psychology, popular psychology, linguistics, and education. Inarguably, though, it has lost most of its credibility (and even name recognition) with scholars in the fields of rhetoric and composition and communication. 7In the same letter, Burke explains to Josephson that he was going to attend one of Korzybski's General Semantics seminars in Chicago upon the offer of the “Semanticists” to pay his expenses, but decided against it because it would have consumed nearly two weeks. He writes, “Hated to pass it up—for these are the days when one yearns for his band of the like-minded—and Hayakawa writes me: ‘Both the students of General Semantics of my acquaintance and the students of linguistics are enthusiastic about your work.' Hayakawa teaches at a school in Chicago that recently offered me a job, though alas! at no such handsome salary as I could easily imagine” (Burke to Josephson 17 Dec. Citation1941). In a letter of several years earlier, Burke had complained to Richard McKeon about Stuart Chase's Tyranny of Words (which he was then writing the review for); he quips, “how he does tyrannize with words!” Burke goes on to write, “Rule of thumb: Anyone who takes Korzybski's ‘Science and Sanity’ for anything more than half a book on the subject of semantics is a public calamity. Taken as half a book, it is excellent. Taken as a whole book, it is far worse than no book at all, far inferior to naïve words uttered at random” (Burke to McKeon 13 Dec. 1937). Perhaps reviewing Chase's book (which presented a fairly skewed view of Korzybski's ideas) helped to highlight for Burke the problems with General Semantics. Both of these statements taken together, though, indicate fairly clearly that Burke saw himself not so much rejecting General Semantics, perhaps, as negotiating with it. 8Although he focuses explicitly on the “semanticists” here, Burke is also implicitly responding to the New Critics, a fact suggested by the initial appearance of the essay in The Southern Review, a journal colonized at the time by New Critics like John Crowe Ransom, Cleanth Brooks, and Allen Tate. Burke's double purpose can be ascertained in small jabs elsewhere in The Philosophy of Literary Form; for instance, he remarks, “It is ‘poetic’ to develop method; it is ‘scientific’ to develop methodology. (From this standpoint, the ideal of literary criticism is a ‘scientific’ ideal.)” (130). As Ann George and Jack Selzer point out, “That distinction between scientific and poetic language, based on the Agrarian distrust of science and on the positivist assumption that science and poetry lead to two different and complementary approaches to knowledge and derived at least in part from I.A. Richards's Science and Poetry (1926), was fast becoming a central tenet of the nascent New Criticism, as the movement would officially be dubbed by Ransom in his 1941 book of that name” (Kenneth Burke 193). Additional informationNotes on contributorsJodie Nicotra Jodie Nicotra is an Assistant Professor in the English Department at the University of Idaho, P.O. Box 441102, Moscow, ID 83844-1102, USA.

Late-colonial New Spain was awash with conflicting energies: American-born Spaniards (Creoles), like their North American counterparts, felt a growing desire for independence, yet needed their identification with Europe to cement their sense of superiority over the racialized indigenous, African, and mixed-race lower classes; the Enlightenment brought new fervor for scientific exploration and gave intellectual heft to the desire for independence, yet also facilitated administrative reforms that increased the Spanish monarchy's intervention in its subjects' lives. In the midst of this ferment, there appeared a popular but short-lived genre of art whose depictions of life in New Spain provide a powerful image of the rhetorical role of the colonial body. This article examines how that genre, casta painting, used topoi of family, publicity, and science to constitute and comment upon its moments' racialized common sense. The article suggests that taking seriously the rhetorical contribution of these artifacts contributes to a more complex understanding of Enlightenment rhetoric, particularly in the Spanish Americas.

John Nicholson’s The Preceptor is the first book dedicated to an explicitly Mormon rhetorical theory, which he attempts to employ in the troubled landscape of LDS missionary training. This essay examines Nicholson’s advice to missionaries, and argues that The Preceptor links logos and the Holy Spirit together in homiletic division of labor, connecting traditional Christian preaching with indigenous Mormon style and theology. By studying The Preceptor we can gain an appreciation for how rhetorical theories develop specific features that reflect a particular culture’s location in history and society, and examine a rhetoric that served as an alternative to mainstream American religious and secular rhetorical development.

This article argues that the ideas of “play” and “abduction” in Charles Peirce’s work represent an inventive theory of argument that opens up the kinds of activities that can be called “arguments” and avoids some of the struggles over imposed beliefs with which recent argument theory has grappled.

We employ a Burkean perspective to examine the role of rhetoric in the sport of NASCAR.  In particular, we explore the role that driver rhetoric plays in the mainstream success of the sport.  We selected six representative television interviews by NASCAR drivers and subjected them to a pentadic analysis.  For comparison purposes, we perform the same analysis on two interviews from each of three other major American professional sports – football, basketball, and baseball.  Our findings suggest that rhetorical norms in NASCAR do differ from those norms of other major American sports, and that this distinction could possibly play a role in the marketing success of NASCAR.

Kenneth Burke was no stranger to psychoanalysis. In fact, Freud had a major influence on his theory of dramatism. For example, in Rhetoric and Religion , he credited Freud for “great contributions” and called him a “genius” (Burke, 1970, p. 265) In Language as Symbolic Action , he noted that Freud had “done well” (Burke, 1966, p. 66). And in his most lengthy praise of Freud, he wrote:

Many scholars are only familiar with the version of “The Rhetoric of Hitler’s ‘Battle’” reprinted in The Philosophy of Literary Form ; the rich history of Kenneth Burke’s essay has been neglected.  “The Rhetoric of Hitler’s ‘Battle’” was situated in a particular historical context that deserves scholarly attention.  Burke formulated his analysis of Hitler’s book as a response to contemporary reviews of the unexpurgated translation of Mein Kampf , and he presented his essay before the Third American Writers’ Congress during the peak of a critical debate about fascist rhetoric.  By understanding the influence of contextual factors on Burke’s essay, scholars will have a fuller account of one of his most acclaimed works.

This article questions how professional communication genres already well established in print form have been changing as they are transplanted into digital media like the Web. Whereas some technology-oriented genre research has sought how a new medium provides genres with new technological features, this article argues that a more insightful approach would seek how a new medium, together with its users, provides genres with new rhetorical situations. To operationally define rhetorical situations, I adapt Lloyd Bitzer's three situational dimensions of exigence, audience, and constraints. Then, to illustrate how the new rhetorical situations of the Web can influence a genre, I explore the genre of the résumé. Drawing on a survey of 100 Web résumé authors and an analysis of their sites, I show that as each of the three dimensions of the résumé's traditional rhetorical situation has opened itself to greater diversity on the Web, the Web version of the résumé genre has correspondingly reoriented itself. Hence, genres change in response not just to the new medium's technology per se but to the new rhetorical situations that the medium hosts.

Abstract Drawing upon published and unpublished texts from Kenneth Burke, this article argues that A Rhetoric of Motives represents the first, “Upward” half of his project on rhetoric. Emphasizing this unexpected connection between Burke and Plato, the article offers a dialectical rereading of the text, one that locates the ultimate rhetorical motive not in identification, but pure in persuasion. Interpreting the latter as a “‘mythic image,”’ it emerges as a non-empirical, imagistic portrayal of the formal conditions underlying persuasion, the origin of rhetoric. Rhetoric, dialectically redefined in terms of pure persuasion, produces the divisions that we humans would (paradoxically) discursively bridge. Notes 1This is from a letter contained in the Stanley Edgar Hyman Papers, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. The author expresses gratitude to Phoebe Pettingell Hyman for her permission to quote from these unpublished manuscripts. Letters from this collection will be parenthetically indicated “SH.” 2This manuscript is drawn from a folder in the Kenneth Burke Papers labeled: “R of M Drafts. Including final draft.” Apart from “The Rhetorical Radiance of the ‘Divine'” (and some scattered deletions in pencil), the manuscript indicated as the text's “final draft” is identical to the published version of the Rhetoric—and its 430 typed pages even include a table of contents. Thus it is quite clear that this was, until quite late in the process, the complete text of the Rhetoric. This material is taken from the archives of The Kenneth Burke Papers, Rare Books and Manuscripts Collection, Pattee Library, Pennsylvania State University, State College, PA. The author is grateful to Sandra Stelts, Jeannette Sabre, the Penn State Libraries, and the Burke Literary Trust for their help and for permission to quote from these unpublished manuscripts. 3Another appears during discussion of “timely topics” and the press: “We pass over it hastily here, as we plan to consider the two major aspects of it in later sections of this project (when we shall consider the new level of ‘reality’ which journalistic timeliness establishes, and shall study the relation between transient and permanent factors of appeal by taking the cartoons in The New Yorker as a test case)” (Rhetoric 63). 4Authorial intentions provide notoriously controversial evidence for reinterpretation. However, as the above-quoted header makes clear, Burke altered his initial plan late in the publication process. Although other Burkean texts were altered during composition (for example, the pentad was a later addition to the Grammar), the Rhetoric project is different; the material with which Burke began was postponed, not supplemented, as in the case of the Grammar. Most significantly, Burke's papers reveal an organizational framework linking the excised material to that which remained; thus, examination of Burke's original vision for the project as a whole sheds new light on the version of the Rhetoric that was published. 5This quote is from a letter from Burke to Cowley dated 26 January 1947, housed in the Burke Papers. Letters from this collection will be parenthetically indicated “KB.” 6Judging from this description, it seems that some of this material was published in Burke's essay, “Rhetoric: Old and New” (see especially the discussion of blandness [69–75]). 7Additionally, such interpretations of Burke's text often produce an artificial separation between Burke's rhetoric and dialectic. Having sharpened this difference into a distinction, effort is required to explain their connection (e.g., Crusius, “A Case,” “Orality”; Ercolini). 8Here one might object, also citing Burke's essay on the “new” rhetoric, whose “key term” is identification (“Rhetoric” 62–63). However, in both texts, identification is introduced in the first section (or “stage”), but is transcended by other sections/stages. Further, in the Rhetoric, Burke describes persuasion and identification as his “two interrelated themes” (x), and discusses his “generating principles,” “persuasion and/or identification” (169; emphasis added)—a point he later reaffirmed in letters to Cowley (e.g., Williams 12). Identification is undeniably important in Burke's rhetorical theory, but I contend it must be contextualized within Burke's foundational claim about the nature of rhetoric. 9See also “Rhetoric: Old and New,” which contains a dialogue patterned after the Platonic dialectic—including the character “Socraticus” and references to the “Upward” and “Downward Way” (63–66). 10Although I have not altered any quotations, contemporary scholarship recognizes that the masculine is not a universal, and so my own usage reflects this philosophical commitment. 11Although there is extensive debate regarding Platonic dialectic (e.g., Kahn; Benson), Gonzalez is cited here to demonstrate two things: that appropriation of Plato is not necessarily the adoption of Platonist metaphysics and that Burke's definition is neither idiosyncratic nor outdated. Gonzalez's recent study does not cite Burke, but is distinctly Burkean in its rejection of Platonist metaphysics, and its refusal to divorce Plato's dialectic from the dramatic form of the dialogues. Further, Gonzalez emphasizes the role played by ideas and images in Plato's dialectic (e.g., 129), echoing the book cited within the Rhetoric's discussion of Plato: Stewart's The Myths of Plato. 12These unpublished notes are drawn from a folder labeled “Myth,” housed in the Kenneth Burke Papers. 14Here I draw on this essay because Burke identifies it as the foundation for this portion of the Rhetoric (e.g., Burke to Hyman, January 26, 1948, SH). 13Moreover, he argues that Mannheim's perspective gains much of its appeal—including “the feel of an ultimate order”—from its furtive resemblance to the Platonic dialectic, and (in its ambiguous concept of “Utopia”) an implicit foundation in chiliastic myth (A Rhetoric 200; cf. Burke, “Ideology” 306). 15These unpublished notes are drawn from a folder labeled “Myth” in the Burke Papers. 16These notes are also from the “Myth” folder (but: cf. A Rhetoric 203; “Ideology” 306–307). 17Said another way, by retaining our myth's connection to the Platonic dialectic, we will recognize the narrative order of myth as an imagistic portrayal of a logical order—and not as an accurate, objective account of origins (cf. Grammar 430–440). 18Which is not to say that Burke rejects Kafka; Burke's account is designed to place Kafka's (and Kierkegaard's) vocabulary within a broader whole, not dismiss it. Although I cannot here respond to a recent essay by Ercolini, disputing Burke's interpretation of Fear and Trembling, I feel Ercolini misses the point of Burke's reading of Kierkegaard. Here Burke is moving toward dialectical transcendence, and thus his critique of Kierkegaard focuses on the difference between empirical and mythic images of courtship. 19For this reason, I would argue that the definitions of pure persuasion in the scholarly literature—designed for critical use—fail to see its ultimate, mythic significance (e.g., Hagen; Lee; Olson & Olson; Sweeney). 20This is again why, for Burke, Mannheim's approach falls short; Burke argues that unlike his own approach, Mannheim's sociology cannot provide an “ultimate ground of motivation” (Rhetoric 201). 21Of course, Biesecker is not the only scholar to draw on such statements to equate identification and pure persuasion. Robert Wess likewise does not recognize pure persuasion as a mythic image, and thus his formulation of it as the “identification of identifications” subordinates it to the latter concept (e.g., 214). Similarly, although Zappen's introduction to Burke's “On Persuasion, Identification, and Dialectical Symmetry” insists on the importance of the third section of the Rhetoric, he ultimately does not connect dialectic, “pure persuasion,” and “ultimate identification” (e.g., 334). 22For this reason, I would argue (pace Wess and Biesecker) that identification cannot be equated with pure persuasion; identification presumes a preexisting distance between persons, unlike pure persuasion, which symbolically introduces and maintains distance. This is, I would argue, a more rounded interpretation of Burke's famous statement—early in the Rhetoric, I would add, prior to arriving at his mythic image—that “to begin with ‘identification’ is, by the same token, to confront the implications of division” (Rhetoric 22; Burke's emphasis). Thus, Burke's oft-cited discussion of the interrelation of identification and division in rhetoric follows from pure persuasion's more primary, ontological shattering of unity. This is also, I believe, why Burke later describes the most profound variant of identification as the partisan carving up of a situation through terminological means (see Burke, “The Rhetorical” 271). 23As per the “paradox of purity,” these would be identical (e.g., Grammar 35–36). 24For others beginning with symbols as introduction of division rather than unity, see Anton, Thayer, and Wilden. Additional informationNotes on contributorsBryan Crable Bryan Crable is Associate Professor

This article reports on forensic letters written by physicians specializing in identifying children who have experienced maltreatment. These writers face an extraordinary exigence in that they must provide an opinion as to whether a child has experienced abuse without specifically diagnosing abuse and thus crossing into a legal domain. Their credibility was also at issue because, in this jurisdiction, child abuse identification was not recognized as a medical subspecialty and because the status of expert witnesses is currently being challenged. Through an analysis of 72 forensic letters combined with interview data from six letter writers and five letter readers, we determined that these writers used linguistic and rhetorical strategies that allowed these letters to function as boundary objects or objects that traverse several communities of practice. The most salient strategy was the use of evaluative lexis—adjectives and adverbs which allowed for a range of interpretations and constrained those interpretations at the same time.

Chinese migrant narratives suggest a parodic reworking of China’s official market ideology, “socialism with Chinese characteristics,” as well as new rhetorics that bring worker solidarity and opportunities for positive change.

Kirsch explores “the connection between spirituality and civic engagement,” suggesting that “spirituality—broadly defined to include mindfulness, introspection, and reflection—can play an important role in enabling rhetorical agency.”

Abstract Milton's regicide tracts of 1649, The Tenure, Observations, and Eikonoklastes, are recombinations of two of his most familiar compositional modes of the 1640s, the oration and the animadversion, tactics derived ultimately from classical rhetorical theory and Renaissance assimilations of it. Each tract also displays a poeticized rhetoric which represents Milton's signature adaptation of the close relationship between rhetoric and poetic found in classical and Renaissance rhetorical texts. Evidence for these claims can be found in the structures, styles, and aesthetic manifestations of all three pamphlets, particularly the classical low and middle styles, the formulaic mechanism of quotation and reply, and the prose genre of the Character.

This article extends the work of conceptual revision of the narrative paradigm in order to more directly and completely account for the inventional possibilities of new narratives, the rhetorical revision of old narratives, and the appeal and acceptance of improbable narrative accounts. It does so by reconceptualizing Burke's concept of identification in the narrative paradigm by expanding identification's critical range. Reconceptualizing identification in the narrative paradigm further expands narrative rationality beyond “the logic of good reasons,” provides a theoretical mechanism that accounts for and complements prior theoretical extensions advanced in revision of the narrative paradigm, and provides greater conceptual flexibility for the critical use of narrative in light of poststructuralism. Reconceptualizing the role of identification in the narrative paradigm enriches our understanding of how narratives foster beliefs, attitudes, and actions by accounting more fully for the range of the symbolic resources and processes of identification.

WILLIAM PHILLIPS, LONG-STANDING EDITOR OF THE PARTISAN REVIEW , recalled marching in a May Day parade in New York City during the thirties with Kenneth Burke at his side. According to Phillips, Burke joined in the shout: “We write for the working class.” 1 Perhaps Burke had subordinated his own literary ego to that encompassing solidarity of the group, for it is hard to imagine that, speaking for himself, he was being true to the situation. Anyone who has delved seriously into “boikswoiks” knows that, although tremendously rewarding, they are dense, idiosyncratic, and metacritically challenging.

This paper discusses an alternative way to look at the epigram from Burke’s Grammar of Motives and proposes to interpret it under the light of his own theorization of Dramatism and cathartic use of symbolic action. The paper draws a linguistic connection between the terms “war and “beauty” treating them as interchangeable double metaphors. Burke’s awareness of this was adumbrated in his own writings and in the manuscript of the Symbolic .

Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring drew on the familiar resources of cultural pastoral attitudes of a natural order, and redrew the boundary of the natural order at an ecological self that needed to be protected from contamination. In the world of Silent Spring, a Citizen Housewife shared her substance with the natural order, had the legitimacy of rights and knowledge, and she exercised political agency. This identity resonated in political and social life, and created an identification for social action. In this paper, I trace the adoption and use of a Citizen Housewife identity in the environmental justice movement over time. First published in 1962, Silent Spring was an attack on the large scale use of pesticides and herbicides. Pesticides had been used without due regard for their interrelated effects on natural ecosystems and human health. Building on a clear and involving introduction to ecology and natural systems, Silent Spring shows how the supposedly safe use of pesticides and herbicides causes harm at every level of organization of life, from the cell to the ecosystem. The war on insects is a war against our own bodies.

Attitudes toward the pecuniary are peculiar. One reason we misunderstand money is because it defines and answers to both our animal nature (necessity) and our symbolic nature (property). In this paper I trace the genealogy of Kenneth Burke’s attitudes toward money in the “Epilogue: Prologue in Heaven” to show how Burke’s logological approach toward money is original and in tension with claims offered by competing, economic attitudes toward money. Money sits forever at the nexus of our animal and symbolic nature because it simultaneously holds the place of value and signifies what we value. By stressing animal limits and symbolic infinity, Burke invites us to ponder the extent of human cooperation and the boundaries of human strivings. As attitudes, these invitations reveal that Burke wanted to re-appropriate the money symbol to the realm of logology and religion – away from capitalism – to exhibit the potential justice at the heart of human experience. That justice, however, only inheres so long as the tension between animal and symbol is respected in our pursuit of needs through symbolic action. Burke strings the tension between animal and symbol along the lines of a conversation between The Lord and Satan. Along the way he shows us a Lord sympathetic to our money crimes as well as all others and a loyal opposition that laughs at our infirmities. In this way Burke works to redeem human commerce from its worst propensities by showing its relationship to the Word.

Much has been written about Burke’s famous dictum that literature is equipment for living. Many writers have assumed that he meant that all literature (high, low and experimental) performed a salubrious role for its audiences. With great daring Carlnita Greene and Christopher Greene argue that some art may be dysfunctional for its audiences, foreclosing solutions, propagandizing and narrowing rather than opening the universe of discourse.

Rhetorical theory is amply supplied with warnings against the seductive power of pleasure to persuade, but it has paid less attention to pleasure's role in resisting persuasion. Wordsworth, who is ...

Reviews David C. Mirhady, ed., Influences on Peripatetic Rhetoric: Essays in Honor of William W. Fortenbaugh. Leiden: Brill, 2007. viii + 282 pp. This valuable collection of fourteen essays divides itself naturally into two parts: those which conform strictly to its title (1, 2, 3, 5, 8,11,13), and the rest, which focus on Aristotle's Rhetoric (4, 14), Rhetorica Ad Alexandrian (6) and post-Aristotelian topics (7, 9, 10, 12). Mirhady's Introduction assembles the diverse elements that inform the book very skilfully: the present state of scholarship, the historical background, a synopsis of the contents of Aristotle Rhetoric and the Rhetorica Ad Alexandrian, and summaries of the fourteen chapters. Dirk Schenkeveld, Theory and Practice in Fourth-Century Eloquence, is con­ cerned with a particular feature, mainly of deliberative oratory: the speaker's adoption of a didactic tone, usually when introducing a key narrative or ar­ gument. He does not consider whether this tone is a function of the characters of its two chief proponents, Isocrates, who was a teacher, and Demosthenes, who was famously superior in his attitude to his audiences and opponents; while the examples in Lysias look suspiciously formulaic. These character­ istics would go some way to explaining the absence of recommendations for them from the theorists. In Ethos in Persuasion and in Musical Education in Plato and Aristotle, Eckart Schutrumpf finds the latter's proposition that a speaker's good character is by itself a device of persuasion too simplistic compared with the examination conducted by Plato, in whose Gorgias and Protagoras audiences are seen as more susceptible to purely rhetorical skills than to a speaker's perceived moral qualities. Schutrumpf traces a development in Plato's attitude to persuasion, with the need to replace it by force being increasingly considered. Aristotle consistently takes a more optimistic view of human nature. David Mirhady, Aristotle's Enthynienie, Thymos, and Plato, sets out to establish the emotional content of the Aristotelian enthymeme by reference to its etymology. After admitting that the verb had come to mean no more than 'consider,' Mirhady argues that the enthymeme connotes "a form of cognitive activity that takes place in the context of emotional response.'' But the enthymeme is concerned with emotions only in so far as the human experiences from which it draws its premisses have emotional content, and for Aristotle it is always closer to logic (the syllogism) than to the irrational Rhetorica, Vol. XXVII, Issue 2, pp. 218—234, ISSN 0734-8584, electronic ISSN 15338541 . ©2009 by The International Society for the History of Rhetoric. All rights re­ served. Please direct all requests for permission to photocopy or reproduce article content through the University of California Press's Rights and Permissions website, at http://www.ucpressjournals.com/reprintlnfo.asp. DO1: 10.1525/RH.200A27.2.218. Reviews 219 thoughts and actions of the thymos. In his Techniques of Proof in 4th Century Rhctoiic, Tobias Rheinhardt finds connections between Aristotle s Rhetoric, his dialectical theory' in the Topics, and the Rhetorica Ad Alexandrum in respect of arguments related to some of the standard themes of deliberative and forensic oratory; This chapter begins and ends with a welcome reassertion of the view that the birth of rhetorical theory is to be assigned firmly to the Fifth Century: a fact which can easily be established by noticing the recurrence of a wide array of technical proofs and topoi in Antiphon and the early speeches how Aristotle defines an ideal written text as one which is susceptible to oral performance, and that epideictic oratory is aimed at an audience which is both spectator and critic, who dissects a discourse and passes judgement on the question of whether the author/speaker has discovered all the possible means of persuasion. She notes that Aristotle differs from his predecessors in distinguishing between styles suitable for deliberative and forensic oratory. Her study also clarifies several of the obscurities in Aristotle's account of these styles by reconciling different parts of it. In Carl Werner Muller's Der Euripideische Philoktet und Die Rhetorik des 4. Jnhrhunderts the starting-point is Dion of Prusa's opinion that the rhetorical content of Euripides Philoctetes distinguishes it from its Aeschylean and...

Reviews 231 Caroline van Eck, Classical Rhetoric and the Visual Arts in Early Modern Europe. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge & New York, 2007 225 pp. The central claim of Caroline van Eek's new book is that classical rhetoric s treatment of the non-verbal and figurative aspects of persuasive communication influenced both the producers and consumers of visual art and architecture in early modern Europe. Primarily drawing on discussions of gesture and image in Quintilian and Cicero (but also Aristotle and Long­ inus), van Eck links what she sees as the primary aim of oratory—vivid representation, enarycia—to the v isual realm of image making. Classical rhetoricians who argued that figurative language and gesture enabled or­ ators to bring their subject to life before the eyes (and the mind's eye) gave early modern artists and spectators a framework within which to create and experience visual art. The argument of the book is that classical rhetoric and early modern visual art share an emphasis on figuration, defined by van Eck as "giving an outward, visible shape to emotion, thoughts or memories that creates the illusion of human life and agency" (p. 9). Attending to figuration by viewing early modern v isual art through the lens of rhetoric rather than post-Kantian aesthetics, van Eck argues, offers a better understanding of the socio-cultural function of art in the period. After making the case for a connection between rhetoric and the visual arts in the Introduction, van Eck devotes the first section of the book to theory. The two chapters that make up this section offer detailed readings of Alberti's De Pictura and three Italian Renaissance architectural treatises, by Vincenzo Scamozzi, Gherardo Spini, and Daniel Barbaro. The discussion of Alberti is focused on linking the representational character of painting to the role of representation in rhetorical theory. While there is little doubt that visual artists were concerned with representation, van Eck argues that the role of persuasion in that representative enterprise has not been adequately explored. Similarly, while the persuasive aspect of oratory is an obvious focus of classical rhetorical theory, it is the goal of vividly representing human activity that made rhetoric an important conceptual toolbox for an art theorist like Alberti. Viewed in this way, rhetoric and visual art share common ground in seeking to bring to life that which is absent. The argument is compelling, though the emphasis on painting as per­ suasive representation elides aesthetic considerations in favor of an under­ standing of artistic practice as a form of interested communication. Of course, this is van Eek's point: that the influence of Kantian aesthetics (particularly the disinterested appreciation of the beautiful) on art history has obscured the value early modern artists and spectators placed on the ability of an artwork to move or persuade. In pointing out the historical difference sep­ arating Renaissance and Enlightenment subjects, van Eck reveals interesting connections between rhetoric and the visual arts. If there is a limitation to the approach it is in van Eek's tendency to subordinate pleasing or delightful aspects of the work of art to its ability to persuade. This tendency takes 232 RHETORICA the discussion away from the particularities of individual works of art in the service of demonstrating the consistent, but more general emphasis on vividness of representation. If some of the discussion of representation is overly general, the same cannot be said about the van Eek's treatment of her specialty, architectural theory When she turns to architecture in the second chapter, for example, the discussion takes on a less speculative and more scholarly tone. This may stem from the fact that the attitude toward architecture that she hopes to reveal is by her own admission "rarely made explicit" in the period (p. 31). To uncover the hidden relationship between rhetoric and architecture she turns to the somewhat neglected work of Spini, Barbaro, and Scamozzi. What van Eck finds in these treatises is relatively clear evidence of the direct influence of classical rhetorical authorities on the three authors' conceptualization of architecture as a persuasive art form intimately linked to human knowledge and activity. Yet the concentration on three minor works begs the question...

Reviews 225 aggiornata bibliografía, offrono un panorama orgánico e articolato della straordinaria vitalita della forma declamazione e della sua adattabilitá ai contesti storici e cultuiali piú vari. 1 risultati della ricerca, innovativi e propositi\i, confeimano la finalitá dei seminari, di esplorare la complessitá di un filone di studi particolarmente fertile e ricco di spunti. Graziana Brescia Università di Foggia Delphine Reguig-Naya, Le Corps des Idées: Pensées et Poétiques du Langage dans l'Augustinisme de Port-Royal. Arnauld, Nicole, Pascal, Mme de La Fayette, Racine. Paris: Honoré Champion, 2007. 836 pp. Hannah Dawson, Locke, Language, and Early-Modern Philosophy. Cam­ bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. 361 pp. Alberto Bordogna, Gli Idoli del Foro: Retorica e Mito nel Pensiero di Giambattista Vico. Rome: Aracne, 2007. 171 pp. Recently, a number of books have appeared that restate more precisely the terms of the debate that enveloped rhetoric in the period of its occlusion between approximately 1650 and 1800. For decades historians of rhetoric have been conscious of the broad and virulent attack on rhetoric, both as practice and as theory, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In com­ parison to its centrality in the Renaissance and its conspicuous reinvention in late modernity, the decline of rhetoric in the intervening period is striking. Yet increasingly scholars have begun to show that any history of rhetoric in this period must go beyond the headline critiques of the art of persuasion mounted by many of the leading philosophical authorities of the age. Indeed, a number of sophisticated studies have begun to appear that trace the ironic afterlife of rhetorical categories in intellectual projects that both emblematize eighteenth-century inquiry and eschew any overt allegiance to rhetoric as a disciplinary formation (see David L. Marshall, "Early Modern Rhetoric: Recent Research in German, Italian, French, and English," Intellectual History Review 17 (2007): 75-93). This review examines some of the issues involved in the problem of language in early modern thought by tracing them through recent work on Port-Royal, Locke, Vico, and—briefly—Herder. As Delphine Reguig-Naya attests time and again in her recent treatment of Port-Royal writers on the subject of language, the ideal for thinkers such as Antoine Arnauld and Pierre Nicole is often a kind of transparency in which language becomes a window on the mind free from distortion (p. 35). Thought is presumed to exist independently of its expression and, as a result, the task of expression is to render faithfully something already fully formed internally. This basic assumption about the separability of thought and language is related to a series of other points of departure that mark the Port-Royal school and figure prominently in many early modern critiques of 226 RHETORICA rhetorical assumptions about language: that the word and not the sentence is the more basic linguistic unit (p. 39), that syntax ought to mirror the structure of thought (p. 73), that representations arrived at arbitrarily are preferable to the lines of inquiry set in motion by the myriad formulations of resemblance (p. 93), that the mind moves much more quickly than speech and on a different track (p. 187), and that the equivocation of terms is the most dangerous problem posed by the embodiment of thought in signs (p. 195). Yet precisely because Port-Royalist anthropology owed so much to the Christian sense of the fall, rhetoric is also understood to be inevitable. If the sensuality of rhetorical address is suspect, it can (and must) be used on behalf of the good. Thus, even if enthymemes are characteristic of the kind of compromises and abbreviations that the tongue must make in order to keep pace with the brain, they are also so natural that they cannot simply be legislated out of existence (p. 63). Likewise, despite its reliance on the equivocating quality of resemblance, metaphor is endemic in language (p. 470). If the traditional domain of rhetorical self-consciousness—direct oral exchange—is more dangerous because of the diversity and potency of the various sensual media in play, the Port-Royalists place an equally rhetorical emphasis on the particular form of language that was the staple of hermeneutic activity—namely, textual...

Milton’s regicide tracts of 1649, The Tenure, Observations, and Eikonoklastes, are recombinations of two of his most familiar compositional modes of the 1640s, the oration and the animadversion, tactics derived ultimately from classical rhetorical theory and Renaissance assimilations of it. Each tract also displays a poeticized rhetoric which represents Milton’s signature adaptation of the close relationship between rhetoric and poetic found in classical and Renaissance rhetorical texts. Evidence for these claims can be found in the structures, styles, and aesthetic manifestations of all three pamphlets, particularly the classical low and middle styles, the formulaic mechanism of quotation and reply, and the prose genre of the Character.

Reviews 233 allows for a comparison so general, one might doubt its usefulness. “Painting is really like poetry/' van Eck writes, “because both arts are inventions that make appear things that do not exist" (p. 68). Yet the point of van Eek's book is not to show how painting and architecture are the same as rhetoric, but how a culture saturated with the lessons of classical rhetoric influenced the creation and reception of visual art. In fact, rather than primarily focusing on works of visual art and architecture, the book is actually more concerned with the way early modern artists, architects, and spectators spoke and wrote about the visual arts. This is the book's strength, as example after example reveals that classical rhetorical theory provided a rich mine for both artists seeking to describe their method and spectators accounting for their reaction to the artwork. The discussion (in chapter fixe) of poetic responses to the discovery of the Lnocoon statue in 1506 is particularly interesting in this regard. The responses laud the power of the statue to move the viewer while drawing on the language of classical rhetorical theorv. As a whole van Eek's studv is a compelling and welcome contribution to the growing body of work on earlv modern visual culture, broadly defined. Through careful readings of a v ariety of early modern texts about art and architecture from England and Italy, she is able to show how rhetoric influ­ enced the theory, practice and reception of the visual arts. The book serves as a correctiv e to art historical approaches based on theories of aesthetics and style after Kant that downplay the instrumental character of much early modern art. To accomplish this, though, the variety of rhetorical theory is necessarily placed in the background to allow for the common threads that tie rhetoric to the v isual arts in van Eek's account to come into relief. For those interested in early modern European visual culture this will seem a small price to pay. James A. Knapp Eastern Michigan University Susan Miller, Trust in Texts: A Different History ofRhetoric. Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 2008. xiv + 224 pp. This is an astute, ingenious, and inclusive survey of the contemporary Anglophone discussion that centers on what Miller considers the rhetorical core: that is, pedagogy, training for discursive performance—either in civil affairs or in "self-fashioning," techniques of representation of the practi­ tioner for both public and private motives. That is, both teaching-practice and practice-practice. Tier vital distinction is the prefix meta . rhetoric engages "multiple metadiscourses derived from ritual, imaginative, affil iative practices" (p. 1). Rhetoric as pedagogy is obviously meta-discourse, discourse about discourse; it can, or should, invest in meta-discursive 234 RHETORICA controlling, important—discourses that form and are formed by vital, specific life-interests. On the one hand, the multiple metadiscourses are practices 1) "that we trust for their well-supported and reasoned statements", or 2) "for their participation in infrastructures of trustworthiness," products of "special plane[s] of understanding, and [their] consequences" (p. 2). But, on the other hand, pedagogy, as schooling in the conditions of trust, deals also with trust, not in reason and the shared infrastructure, but with uncertainty, bad faith; it functions "symbolically and charismatically" (p. 3), it can be a "retreat to the orphic" (p. 147). Still, it is always creating "contexts for choice" in an "emergent present" (p. 3) responding—she cites John O. Ward—to "distinct market niches" (p. 4), or, preferably to universal/human, national, global niches. Thus, rhetoric is hegemonous: powerful in its contribution to "productivity and stature of the present [whatever] age," or to "the circulation of contemporary values" (p. 37). As hegemonous, omnicompetent: the study considers political ideolo­ gies, literary aspirations, social ambitions, power contests, gender definings, genre strategies. Rhetoric can be reformulated as concerned with "ad hoc, class-based, experiential, and especially educational bonds that enable per­ suasion" (p. 53). Anything, in short, "crucial to monitoring, reprocessing, and delivering the limits of trust" (p. 5). There is, as well, a very strong emphasis on the pertinent contributions of emotional as well as cognitive capacities. Indeed, a large...

This article makes a two-part argument. First, I show how a dispute over authentic Jewish identity demonstrates the limits of The New Rhetoric's “dissociation” and “universal audience” as tools for the expansion of existing identities, communicating across particular audiences, or resolving conflict when identity is the issue at stake. Through careful analysis of the 1971 Black Jewish identity conflict, I then develop a new theoretical concept, “dissociative disruption,” which names and theorizes an interim step between “breaking the links” and full “dissociative restructuring” to better account for the ways power and authority affect the relative rhetorical possibilities for particular rhetors and audiences.

AbstractMust acts of identification via an inclusive “we” mystify the inequalities they are meant to transcend? One answer lies in this essay's reading of Abraham Lincoln's and Kenneth Burke's rhetoric, a reading that tracks (especially through Lincoln's rhetoric) the “ways of identification,” ways which Burke claimed “are in accordance with the nature of property.” Identification in Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address confirms much of Burke's theory, yet Lincoln's career of appeals to the connections between property and propriety—and in particular the specific identifications made by such appeals in the Second Inaugural—suggests that Burke's presentation of identification is itself a kind of mystification that can lead to under-reading the ways of identification.

Research Article| January 01 2009 “As Usual I Fell on the Bias”: Kenneth Burke's Situated Dialectic M. Elizabeth Weiser M. Elizabeth Weiser Search for other works by this author on: This Site Google Philosophy & Rhetoric (2009) 42 (2): 134–153. https://doi.org/10.2307/25655347 Cite Icon Cite Share Icon Share Twitter Permissions Search Site Citation M. Elizabeth Weiser; “As Usual I Fell on the Bias”: Kenneth Burke's Situated Dialectic. Philosophy & Rhetoric 1 January 2009; 42 (2): 134–153. doi: https://doi.org/10.2307/25655347 Download citation file: Zotero Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search All Scholarly Publishing CollectivePenn State University PressPhilosophy & Rhetoric Search Advanced Search The text of this article is only available as a PDF. Copyright © 2009 The Pennsylvania State University2009The Pennsylvania State University Article PDF first page preview Close Modal You do not currently have access to this content.

Research Article| January 01 2009 Kenneth Burke on Dialectical-Rhetorical Transcendence James P. Zappen James P. Zappen Search for other works by this author on: This Site Google Philosophy & Rhetoric (2009) 42 (3): 279–301. https://doi.org/10.2307/25655358 Cite Icon Cite Share Icon Share Twitter Permissions Search Site Citation James P. Zappen; Kenneth Burke on Dialectical-Rhetorical Transcendence. Philosophy & Rhetoric 1 January 2009; 42 (3): 279–301. doi: https://doi.org/10.2307/25655358 Download citation file: Zotero Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search All Scholarly Publishing CollectivePenn State University PressPhilosophy & Rhetoric Search Advanced Search The text of this article is only available as a PDF. Copyright © 2009 The Pennsylvania State University2009The Pennsylvania State University Article PDF first page preview Close Modal You do not currently have access to this content.

In situations of potential business change, the cooperation of various direct and indirect stakeholders (i.e., employees, customers, shareholders, neighbors) is crucial. The alternative policy courses may all be reasonable, and yet none of them may be clearly best for all stakeholders; support for an option must be cultivated through public rhetoric. Loci communes and Burkean transcendence are two potent rhetorical strategies that can help business leaders publicly weigh and civilly advocate a policy position relative to competing alternatives. This article develops and illustrates that argument by analyzing the public rhetoric involved in AirTran's attempt to build support for its hostile takeover of Midwest Airlines and Midwest's successful resistance to that attempt. Midwest's deft development of the transcendent term value helped it circumvent the initial deadlock between its preferred loci communes (i.e., the existent and quality) and AirTran's (i.e., the possible and quantity). The article advances a rationale and call for rhetorical scholarship to adopt more situated, social practice views of loci communes and transcendence.

Abstract The author argues that we have chosen a rhetorical history that normalizes and silences rhetorical bodies. In response, the author exhumes an embodied history of rhetoric, reexamining the myths of the Greek goddess Metis as a means of enlivening rhetorical theory and history. The author then connects these myths to other rhetorical traditions invoked by Hélène Cixous and Gloria Anzaldúa, connecting Metis to Medusa and to mestiza consciousness. The author affirms the rhetorical power of the body, specifically of those bodies that challenge rhetorical norms. Notes 1I thank generous RR reviewers Richard Enos and Michelle Ballif for their advice and assistance with this essay. 2In Grosz's words, "[T]he body has remained a conceptual blind spot in both mainstream Western philosophical thought and contemporary feminist theory" (Volatile 3). The body then becomes "what is not mind … implicitly defined as unruly, disruptive, in need of direction or judgment, merely incidental … a brute givenness which requires overcoming" (Volatile 3–4). 3Thanks to Richard Enos for his thoughtful comments in reviewing an earlier draft of this manuscript. 4Disability studies scholars use the term normate to designate the unexamined and privileged subject position of the supposedly (or temporarily) able-bodied individual. The word normative also converts the idea of normalcy into an active process—norms "are" but they also "act"—we live in a culture in which norms are enforced, a normative society. It can—and has—been argued that in antiquity there was not a concept of normalcy per se. But as Lennard Davis writes, although the word normal appeared in English only in the mid-nineteenth century, "before the rise of the concept of normalcy … there appears not to have been a concept of the normal, but instead the regnant paradigm was one revolving around the word ideal. … [I]n the culture of the ideal, physical imperfections are not seen as absolute but as part of a descending continuum from top to bottom. No one, for example, can have an ideal body, and therefore no one has to have an ideal body" (Enforcing 105). Yet Aristotle had more than one concept of ideality—he expounded on the idea of the mean, for instance. He outlined the idea of both an absolute mean, a method for measuring humans against one another, and a relative mean, a system for disciplining oneself (Nicomachean Ethics II 6–7). I would argue that the commingling of these imperatives results in a normative culture or society—both the upheld fiction of perfection and the systematic self- and Other-surveillance and bodily discipline of normative processes. 5This is true for women particularly, but the stigma of femininity is also applied to men. For instance, Demosthenes was said to have been soft and lame because he spoke with a stutter and had an overly feminine demeanor. Physical disability is mingled with femininity to discredit him—see his exchanges with Meidias in particular and Cicero's investigation of Demosthenes' self-education in De Oratore. The story of Demosthenes that has been popularized holds that through rhetorical practice Demosthenes overcame these "impediments" to become a great orator (see Hawhee; Fredal). The possibility that Demosthenes' difference could have queered his bodily/rhetorical performance in a generative sense is not addressed—indeed, any such transgressive possibility is ignored, despite that fact that other historians convincingly challenge the narratives of overcoming and passing that have been ascribed to Demosthenes (see Martha Rose). 6In contrast, an abstract, flawless (male) body becomes a tool for norming. As (Plato wrote and) Socrates said in the Phaedrus, "[A]ny discourse ought to be constructed like a living creature, with its own body, as it were; it must not lack either head or feet; it must have a middle and extremities so composed as to suit each other and the whole work" (128). 7In the Phaedrus, Plato could be seen to change positions slightly, suggesting that certain forms of more "scientific" and therefore "noble" rhetoric might be acceptable (see White; Ramsay; McAdon; Solmsen for a range of readings). 8I gesture here to the work of Rosemarie Garland-Thomson and her book Extraordinary Bodies: Figuring Physical Disability in American Culture and Literature, foundational in disability studies. Garland-Thomson was one of the first scholars to show that "seeing disability as a representational system engages several premises of current critical theory: that representation structures reality, that the margins constitute the center, that human identity is multiple and unstable, and that all analysis and evaluation has political implications" ("The New Disability Studies" 19). These premises are also the premises of this essay. 9Hawhee's linkages between mêtis and wrestling, and then between wrestling and rhetoric, provide an interesting image for this form of intelligence: "the corporeality of mêtis" as "struggle" or "the swarming mass of cunning craftiness and flailing limbs" (46, 45). 10In Randy Lee Eickhoff's recent translation of the Odyssey, he points out that Odysseus, considered to be another exemplar of mêtis, uses the name me tis or "no man" as a pun (n4; 404). 11 Mêtis has the practical advantage (and perhaps theoretical disadvantage) of "disappearing into its own action [so that] it has no image of itself" (de Certeau 82). Mêtis cannot be contextualized or schematized because each time it occurs in a context, it shifts that context, and each sequence it is inserted into is distorted (de Certeau 83–84). 12In the classical context, Homer, the mythical seer Tiresias, Oedipus, the great orator Demosthenes, Paris's killer Philoctetes, Croesus's deaf son, and others form our view of disability. In these stories, typically, disability impels narrative through the themes of overcoming, compensation, divine punishment, and charity. 13As I have previously argued, we can also view mythical discourse as, in the words of Susan Jarratt, "capable of containing the beginnings of … public argument and internal debate" (35). Despite the idea, advanced by Eric Havelock in particular, that myth was rote and didactic, we might see myth as being connected to the body, as being highly rhetorical, as being an arena for mêtis—thus my retellings hopefully honor this spirit (see also Slatkin). 14The myth of Metis can be traced as far back as Hesiod (Theogony lines 886–900). 15It is worth noting that these ableist accents on the denunciation of mêtis are also accompanied by a distinct ethnocentrism and even xenophobia. The word metic meant immigrant in ancient Athens. The word is a compound of the words change (meta) and house (oikos), and literally meant someone who changed houses. Many of Plato's attacks on the flexibility, malleability, and the bodily materiality of rhetoric are aimed at the Sophists, metic non-Athenians, and are part and parcel with a larger ideological agenda. 16 Techne was similarly made practical. As Janet Atwill explains in Rhetoric Re-Claimed, techne, when it is allied with mêtis (as it is by the Sophists), "deforms limits into new paths in order to reach—or, better yet, to produce—an alternative destination" (69). Yet we now refer to technai, handbooks full of sets of rules and examples, when we think of techne. William Covino argues that "reactions against the Sophists contributed to the establishment of rhetoric as techne without magic" (20). This distortion is similar to the attempt to ally mêtis only with the forms of knowledge Plato and Aristotle most highly value—to make it precise, a science, as Aristotle does. 17When defining phronesis in the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle never truly rules out the idea that one would need some form of cunning intelligence to have "prudence," and the version of phronesis he outlines is certainly an abstract form of knowledge. He suggests that to have prudence one must understand particulars as well as universals. Yet the version of phronesis that was later adopted—for instance as one of the Medieval four cardinal virtues—sheds much of this uncertainty and avoids reference to cunning intelligence. 18There also may have been a familial connection between Hephaestus and Medusa—in some myths the two are sexual partners. Their child, Cacus, was said to be a fire-breathing giant. Cacus was said to eat human flesh and nail human heads to his door. Killing him was one of Heracles's twelve labors (Graves, The Greek Myths 158). This link is not made by all scholars, though the story shows up in Ovid and in Virgil's Aeneid. 19Often, Medusa wasseen to symbolize "artful eloquence." For instance, Coluccio Salutati in the fourteenth century and Nancy Vickers in the twenty-first both argue for this reading. As Salutati suggests, the snakes on her head might be seen as "rhetorical ornaments … instruments of wisdom" because snakes are "reported to be the most cunning" (55). In this interpretation Medusa turns an audience to stone not because of her looks but because of her rhetorical power—her audience "so convinced of what they have been persuaded that they may be said to have acquired a stony quality" (56). Vickers goes further, sourcing this connection back to Plato (254). She also argues that Medusa's "stoning" be seen as a rhetorical power, an ability to change the audience's state of mind, accompanied by a somatic effect. Finally, she suggests that Medusa's rhetorical power might represent the freezing of us all before the specter of the feminine—and she asks what we might do to reverse a legacy of neutralization and appropriation of the Other. 20As an example of the ways that myths crucially disagree with one another, we can see that in Homer's version of the story, Medusa comes into the world with her head of snakes. I think such differences reveal quite marked transitions in and contestations of signification. 21Of course it matters very much whether Medusa was raped or not. As Patricia Klindienst Joplin has argued, this rape has often been elided, and responsibility for it shifted away from Poseiden to Athena. She suggests that this shifting of responsibility essentially excuses men's violence toward women and thus silences women further. 22Detienne and Vernant write that mêtis was often symbolized by the octopus. Thus this connection to the octopus of mêtis may not have been coincidental. Certainly the original Medusa myth relied upon a reference to the dangerous, trapping "knot made up of a thousand arms" that the octopus represented and that conveyed a sense of the powerful double-ness and unpredictability of mêtis (38). 23Graves writes that vials of Medusa's blood were widely distributed: The blood had the power both to kill and to cure (Greek Myths 175). There are many contradictory stories about who received the blood, who distributed it, and who used it for good, who for bad (Greek Myths 175). 24The myth may also express a male fear of Medusa's creative power—she is so "procreative" that her children Chrysaor and Pegasus spring from her dead body (Graves, Greek Myths 127). 25I would argue that as teachers, we need to avoid the temptation to "eat" mêtis and wrest control over knowledge away from students. Students' cunning strategies and divergent expressions may threaten us or challenge us, but we cannot believe that mêtis is something we use on students, that we can be the sole tricksters, holding student bodies captive. Nor can we use the brute force of Zeus or Perseus to coopt their power when it threatens us, to subordinate their thinking bodies. 26The French word métis is related to the Spanish word mestizo, both coming from the Latin word mixtus, the past participle of the verb to mix and connoting mixed blood. 27In critical theory the concept of metissage also locates and interrogates the ways that certain forms of knowledge have been relegated to the margins, and thus this concept links usefully to the stories I have been reanimating. Metissage, obviously etymologically linked to mêtis and meaning mixture or miscegenation, has been used as a critical lens through which one might observe issues of identity, resistance, exclusion, and intersectionality. Relying upon metaphors of mixture that are biological and cultural, this concept of metissage both is like and is what Gloria Anzaldúa refers to when she writes about mestiza consciousness. (See Steinberg and Kincheloe; Hardt and Negri; Gruzinski; Glissant.) 28Coatlalopeuh later becomes conflated with the Virgin of Guadalupe after the Spanish Roman Catholic conquest of Mexico. 29Carrie McMaster also suggests that we might learn from Anzaldúa's writing about her own bodily difference—having experienced congenital disease, chronic illness, disability—to "draw non-homogenizing parallels between various embodied identities" ("Negotiating" 103). In Anzaldúa's own words, "[T]hose experiences [with disability] kept me from being a 'normal' person. The way I identify myself subjectively as well as the way I act out there in the world was shaped by my responses to physical and emotional pain" ("Last Words?" 289). From this we can make some suggestions about the epistemological entailments of mestiza knowledge—it comes from unique, never "normal," bodied experiences. The "leap" that should be encouraged, then, is to see such situated knowledge as vital and perhaps even central to human experience. The "abnormal" body is not something given to women symbolically as a form of derogation; it is an engine for understanding and thus has serious rhetorical power.

In a previous discussion in the Burkean Parlor, I argued that Mark Smith's book, The Right Talk (2007), was boring and largely unhelpful to rhetorical scholars because it explained the contemporary...

In the research project Literacy Practices in Working Life, the role played by reading and writing in common nonacademic occupations in Sweden was investigated. The results highlight not only some typical ways of using writing to frame units of work but also differences reflecting the main focus of work (“people” or “things”) and overall organizing principles. This article deals with patterns in the use of writing, which may be related to modern ways of organizing work (efficiency and flexibility, personal responsibility, identification with the company, etc.). Case studies show a range of literacy practices—running from extensive and rather complicated uses of writing connected with individual responsibility to very restricted and dependent uses of reading and writing governed by a top-down organization. Examples illustrate how emerging ways of governing work through written discourse, related to the new, knowledge-based work order, create very different roles for workers.

Studying the communicative role models of my freshman composition students at a historically black school, I learned which rhetorical approaches my students already appreciate and possibly bring with them to college. My analysis of their essays on their role models illuminates a distinction between what they have learned and what they are expected to practice as college writers, suggesting that their communicative role models are significant indicators for how comfortably they will adjust to writing in college. I discovered that those students who admire personas who project with a forceful, “true,” inner confidence, frequently learned from hip-hop culture, could be deflated in an academic setting if they are not taught the necessity of adjusting oneself to the rhetorical situation.

The next entry into our “Re-Visions” feature “a series that offers reconsiderations of particularly significant work in CCC” is a reappraisal of Kenneth Burke’s “Questions and Answers about the Pentad,” which originally appeared in December of 1978 (volume 29.4, 330–35).