9/11: On the Genealogy of Mortals

September 11, 2007

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  • 1. Kim Lacey  |  September 12, 2007 at 2:01 pm

    As I was reading the selections for this week, I continually found myself writing the same marginalia. Aside from the normal question marks and “huh?: reread!” moments, a few words and phrases were constantly scrawled on the sides: distinction, relation, imitation, and flattery. It wasn’t until I began abbreviating these terms in the margins that I realized that their ubiquity is exactly what ties these texts together.
    The notion of distinction is first aroused during the introduction to The Sophist. In his introduction, Benjamin Jowett explains that Not-being is relation—it is the other of Being. By stating, “all negation is distinction,” Jowett expands upon Spinoza and shows that the other (in this case, Not-being) is a distinction, rather than something that is not (14). The two are relational and dependent upon one another. They are not oppositional. As we continue through The Sophist, the Stranger and Theaetetus examine different professions by what they are in relation to what they are not (e.g. hunting with pleasure—amatory art—is distinct from/other than hunting with violence—the whole military art) (59). Therefore, hunting with violence is not opposite of hunting with pleasure, it is instead distinct from it in very specific ways. What we see is difference, not opposition, as stated by the Stranger towards the end: “the negative particles when prefixed to words, do not imply opposition, but only difference from the words, or more correctly from the things represented by the words which follow them” (109).
    In “On Adornment,” we hear a conversation about beauty, and how beauty in one species is distinct from beauty in others. Similar to the example of the types of hunters, characterizing species-specific beauty does not negate the beauty in other species. To quote from “On Adornment,” “In every class of creatures nature produces some exceptional specimen; do not say then to the exception, ‘What are you then?’ […] ‘Do not require me to be like the rest, nor blame my nature, because it made me different from the rest’” (3).
    But what happens when someone wants to be the same, to imitate? In Plutarch’s “How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend,” we encounter the ideas of flattery, imitation, and responsibility. We quickly learn that a flatterer is someone who acts like a friend, but with selfish, reciprocal intentions—a flatterer is thus a “counterfeit copy of ourselves” (4). The flatterer imitates another person, and in turn seeks personal approval by complimenting ‘the original.’ The flatterer’s compliment is then actually an outward praise of oneself, because through the compliment, the flatterer is also commenting on his/her own imitation. While the flatterer is neither “properly his own,” nor is the flatterer the one he/she is imitating, as a result of imitation the flatterer can be anything or anyone. The flatterer both Is and Is-not simultaneously. As a friend, one has the responsibility of approaching one’s friends honestly, and not seeking self-imposed ego-inflating comments. We can compare this with the following quote from “Encomium”: “discourse is a great potentate, which by the smallest and most secret body accomplishes the most divine works; for it can stop fear and assuage pain and produce joy and make mercy abound” (2). Just as the flatterer can be anyone, discourse can do anything, even victimize. Discourse and flattery are tricksters one in the same: “some give pain, other delight, other terrify, other rouse the hearers to courage, and yet others by a certain vile persuasion drug and trick of the soul” (3).
    Finally in Gorgias, we can see that the power of discourse, and importantly the discourse of the body, play crucial roles. Towards the close of Gorgias, Socrates notes, “take […] any other profession you like, and see how each of them arranges the different elements of his work in a certain order, and makes one part fit and harmonize with another until the thing emerges a consistent and organized whole” (111). Returning to the term distinction, this quote can refer to the idea that Being and Not-being are not opposites, but are instead parts of the consistent, organized whole.

  • 2. M. L. McGinnis  |  September 12, 2007 at 2:29 pm

    Original:

    What remains most striking on my third paired reading of the “Encomium” and the Gorgias is the way that both Gorgias and Plato formulate rhetoric in largely sensual terms. In the Gorgias, Socrates condemns rhetoric as being akin to both cookery and flattery—or some blend of the two. What drives both comparisons, though, is an awareness of sensual pleasure: flattery “is ever making pleasure the bait of the unwary, and deceiving them into the belief that she is of the highest value to them”. Plato’s Socrates makes much of these questions of deceit and dissemblance, but he never denies the pleasure afforded by rhetoric, cookery, or flattery. Socrates at least seems to imply, then, that rhetoric can be pleasurable—albeit a guilty pleasure. The body craves the luscious arts of cookery, flattery, and rhetoric, while the soul’s wiser counsel asserts the need for medicine, forthrightness, and philosophy.
    Shortly after making this comparison, Socrates further establishes a pair of associations that reiterate the coupling of rhetoric-body and philosophy-soul. In this association, though, Socrates critiques the body for its lack of discerning judgment and tendency to overindulge in sensual pleasures. “If the body presided over itself . . . and the rule of judgment was the bodily delight,” the result, Socrates suggests, would be chaos rather than the delicately preserved physiognomic order: “cookery, health, and medicine would mingle in an indiscriminate mass”. The pleasure of cookery and of rhetoric remains undeniable, but must—for Socrates—be guarded against because the gluttonous consumption of either overturns (or at least confuses) the established order of things: flattery would prevail over truth, body over soul, and rhetoric over philosophy. It is a surprisingly conservative conclusion from someone who would later be executed for the corruption of Athenian youth.
    Despite his poor showing against Socrates, Gorgias’ presentation of rhetoric in the “Encomium” echoes much of Socrates’ commentary in the dialogue. Gorgias, too, shows concern for the “proper order” of things “to a body, beauty; to a soul, wisdom; to a deed, excellence; and to a discourse, truth—and the opposites of these are disorder”. (Without going too far afield, I do want to express at least a passing curiosity about Greek cosmology here: can we extrapolate from the concern for order that Soractes and Gorgias both exhibit that the Greeks look upon earthly bodies (in every sense of that word) as echoing, mirroring, or replicating celestial order? Socrates claims that the body is “under the guidance of the soul”—can we likewise assume that humankind is “under the guidance of” the gods?) In any event, the list of comparisons that Gorgias draws for rhetoric in the “Encomium” again emphasize the physical, bodily affect of rhetoric—though it here it doesn’t seem to automatically bear the tempting connotations Socrates ascribes to it. The famous explicit comparisons Gorgias draws—between rhetoric and, variously, incantatory chanting, witchcraft, trickery, magic, and drugs—are telling enough, but they are at least matched if not overshadowed by the implicit comparisons the sophist draws. In acquitting Helen, Gorgias cites not only rhetoric but also the forces of Fate, the will of the gods, kidnapping, rape, and love as all possible motives for assuming her innocence. In these comparisons, the obvious exception one might wish to make is that, though persuaded, Helen might still make up her own mind and refuse to submit to Paris’ advances. The force of Gorgias’ comparisons, though, undoes this exception. Beyond rhetoric, we might suggest, all of the claims offered for Helen’s acquittal situate her as victim, violated, her body itself under attack by a more powerful foe. But Gorgias refuses to make the exception we wish to make, and in that refusal, posits rhetoric as being the equal of these other violent acts: rhetoric, here, is not merely superficially akin to rape—it is rape.

    Post script:

    Something I tried to make clear above but failed to do was the the lack of distinction I find in Gorgias and Plato about varities of pleasure. Neither seems too concerned with asking if what pleases the body pleases the soul; rather, Plato notes that what is good for either remains universally good for all men, and that it is pleasurable precisely because of its goodness. So Socrates/Plato (it’s hard not to use the names interchangeably) then creates a recursive loop of sorts: what’s good for you is pleasurable because it’s good for you (a bit of circular, self-evident logic that drove me batty in The Republic). Someone–sorry, my notes aren’t clear who–alluded to this as a sort of utilitarian philosophy, which does go some measure to describe Platocrates’ position. But–in ode perhaps to Epicurus–what remains unsettling about Platocrates’ claim is that it remains unforgiving to the sort of luxurious pleasures that people enjoy sensually. It’s a trope familiar to many grad students, I’m sure: I enjoy watching Rome on DVD, but I know I should be reading for Jeff’s class–the difference between good *to* me and good *for* me. So there are two kinds of pleasure, perhaps: the corporeally affective pleasure of sensual luxuriousness, and the non-corporeally satisfying pleasure of justice.

    An afternote that may hint on a direction for the seminar paper. Here, Jeff contends, we see the invention of the soul, and the establishment of the soul/body split. What I might be interested in writing about is the further derivation of soul/body into soul/body/mind. Preliminary thoughts suggest maybe we could point to the turn to interior subjectivity in Enlightenment thought (Kant & friends) and then, more specifically–with the somaticization (if it’s not a word it should be) & pathologicization (ditto) in early Freud. Hm.

  • 3. eric herhuth  |  September 12, 2007 at 8:18 pm

    The primal scene of rhetoric, at least from these writings, appears as a dissection of sorts. In Plato’s Gorgias persuasion with (and also ‘unto’) belief without knowledge is distinguished from persuasion with knowledge. The former is dubbed rhetoric. From here the argument proceeds to illuminate rhetoric as the ignorant persuading the ignorant and thus, rhetoric lends itself to unjust use. In the conclusion of The Sophist, the imitation of appearance (phantastic) in part defines the work of Sophistry and as diagramed by analogy in The Gorgias: as sophistry : legislation :: rhetoric : justice; thus, the Sophist and the rhetorician are categorized as manipulating/imitating the image. This, of course, stands in opposition to philosophy with its aim to improve the soul.
    For Epictetus, reason is the primary human quality therefore it is right to adorn reason because this is in accordance with nature, while adorning the physical attributes of the human body is foolish. Here the human body is placed in a lesser category that may be called appearance. Likewise, Plutarch’s flatterer imitates and takes up the appearance of a friend. This flattery does not improve the soul but only encourages the vices in the soul. So it is that things operating in this category of imitative appearance do not behoove or benefit the soul, which creates a chasm between bodily rhetoric and philosophy.
    Gorgias’ Encomium of Helen characterizes the power of rhetoric however, as supreme to the virtuous qualities of the soul. Despite the superficiality of rhetoric, its drug-like potency renders Helen, or anyone potentially, defenseless to the objectives of the rhetorician, the persuading person. Gorgias describes rhetoric as having the semblance of truth, which distinguishes it from Platonic philosophy, but at the same time, rhetoric in a way dominates action in everyday life. Rhetoric or persuasion by discourse is grouped with three other factors excusing Helen: the will of the gods, force, and love. Force is obviously physical in nature, but love is depicted here as primarily a visual phenomena as well. Thus, the bodily and the apparent take primacy in the Encomium; it should be noted that the visual and physical natures of force, persuasion, and love compare with the supernatural will of the gods.
    The efficacy of rhetoric in actual life is manifest in Plato’s writing at the end of The Gorgias where Socrates narrates a mythology of final judgment. Since both the judges and the judged were alive and clothed and susceptible to the bodily persuasion that dominates life, “their eyes and ears and their whole bodies are interposed as a veil before their own souls,” the final judgment became corrupt and ineffectual. Thus, the Zeus alters the system by depriving humans of the knowledge of death and by stripping humans of their clothing in order to expose their souls. The judges too become naked and are able to perceive the actual souls of the judged with their own exposed souls.
    Plato’s judgment mythology recognizes persuasion through appearance and imitation as highly effectual in human life. Plato’s critique of rhetoric and appearance then seems to be a reaction against forces dominant in actual life. Here is the classical shift from concern for terrestrial/material life to concern for the immortal soul and the afterlife. If my recollection serves me accurately, Nietzsche considered Plato to possess a deep appreciation of art and therefore Plato criticizes art severely because he has experienced its ability to hold sway. I might propose a similar sentiment about rhetoric, and if it were not for rhetoric’s detriment to the soul (a harm comparable to that of art in terms of appearance and imitation), Plato might praise the practice rather than condemn it.
    If I were to develop the foregoing critique of Plato, I would surely begin with the rhetorical devices found in his writings. Currently, the passage of most interest to me occurs in The Gorgias when Socrates speaks to Callicles of a “community of feeling,” the powerful words of the beloved and the (mis)treatment of enemies.

  • 4. Andrea J. Vought  |  September 13, 2007 at 3:03 am

    In both The Sophist and Gorgias, Plato puts sophistry (and rhetoric, too) and dialectic at odds. While the “art” of dialectic is practiced by “pure and true” philosophers (Sophist), sophists and rhetoricians are likened conversely to sorcerers, flatterers, and morally corrupt peddlers of false knowledge. However, one of the most intriguing—and even troubling—aspects of this oppositional relationship is Plato’s own use of sophistry through the guise of dialectic in these pieces. At the very moments he condemns rhetoric and sophistry to the likes of cookery and magic, Plato is using rhetorical notions of contemplation and careful persuasion to arrive at his argument that dialectic transcends its users to a state of purification and wisdom, while “imitative” rhetoric debases its audience. In essence, Plato is trapped between the transcendent dialectic for which he strives and the rhetoric and sophistry through which he is forced to argue.
    While both The Sophist and Gorgias appear to be dialogues, they are all fashioned by Plato alone. Plato appears to present his readers with a spontaneous discourse among learned scholars, but his characters act as mouthpieces for Plato’s own argument: that dialectic is superior to both rhetoric and sophistry. Plato’s Stranger and Socrates both bemoan sophists as unjust,unwise trickers, the antithesis of good philosophers: “We must place [the Sophist] in the class of magicians and mimics” (The Sophist). In this regard, then, Plato is imitating Socrates, imitating Gorgias: in short, he is participating in the sophistry he denounces. The Socrates and Gorgias in Plato’s work are shadows of the men themselves; their theories and ideas have been shaped and amended to suit Plato’s needs. The characters Polus and Theaetetus, for example, while engaging with the main characters, contribute comparatively little to the dialogue. Socrates dominates in Gorgias, the Stranger in The Sophist. In this asymmetrical battle of the minds, Plato is trying to trick his readers into thinking they are experiencing a true dialectic match, when in reality they are seeing only Plato’s machinations put to paper.
    Plato’s “dialectic” is a twist on the idea of refutation, which Plato’s Stranger argues is the greatest mode of purification of the soul (The Sophist). The Stranger suggests that evil—manifested as vice and ignorance—can be purged from the soul by means of dialectic just as physical activity and medicine purify the body. However, instead of providing his Gorgias a forum to argue the views of sophistry and rhetoric, as a truly just philosopher would according to Plato’s principles would, Plato instead burns Gorgias in effigy, having already plotted the course of his argument before setting it to paper. Here, then, Plato’s use of rhetorical principles is especially clear: he uses invention to contemplate his argument; arrangement and style to allow his Gorgias to defend himself before inconsistencies in Gorgias’ argument are brought to light by Socrates’ barrage of questions; delivery in the unique form of the piece itself; finally, memory in the works’ hybridization of orality and literacy.
    In the end, what I find most problematic is the similarities that ultimately remain in the work of Gorgias and Plato. According to Clement, Gorgias writes: “’A contest such as we have requires two kinds of excellence, daring and skill; daring is needed to withstand danger, and skill to understand how to trip the opponent. For surely speech, like the summons at the Olympic games, calls him who will, but crowns him who can’” (Miscellanies I 51). The idea of competition is pervasive in Plato’s work, too, as we see in the exchange between the Stranger and Theaetetus regarding the division of acquisitive art where they also speak of “conquest” either through language or action. Gorgias’ use of the word “can” could potentially be viewed as problematic, however, in that he does not separate ability from virtue. Theoretically, at least, Plato’s idea of a manipulative sophist could win this battle of words through falsehoods. Yet—and this is overlooked or ignored by Plato—Gorgias is concerned with the virtue or ethical character of the speaker; only perhaps that virtue originates from a different source: “Honors come from goodness, not from badness. … For I am honored for the most honorable reason by the most honorable men, that is, by you for wisdom. … [L]ife is not livable for a man who has lost the confidence of others” (Sprague 58-9). Whereas Plato’s virtue stems from transcendent truth and purification of the soul, a decidedly personal and individual virtue, Gorgias rather places a speaker’s virtue at the feet of the people. This civic awareness reflects the pan-Hellenic goal of the Sophists and speaks to Gorgias’ rhetorical theory.

  • 5. Clay Walker  |  September 13, 2007 at 3:45 am

    I see three essential strains of thought in this weeks readings. (1) Epictetus and Gorgias problematize the relationship between mind and body; (2) Plato draws the material and immaterial together in a philosophy of being in “The Sophist;” and (3) Plato and Plutarch discuss the nature of flattery and pleasure.

    In the first set, Epictetus argues that our “reasoning faculty” is our “distinctive possession” and therefore, it is this we must “adorn and make beautiful” (3). But to make a thing beautiful, or to adorn it implies a process of making it more appealing to the senses, which is a necessarily corporeal experience. However, making our faculty of reason to be more beautiful does not necessarily mean making it more logical or sound or efficient. According to the OED, to adorn a thing is to ornament, which in turn is “An accessory or adjunct, primarily functional, but often also fancy or decorative” (OED). By ascribing a corporeal process of adornment to an immaterial cognitive function, Epictetus problematizes or complicates the mind/body relationship – honoring one (mind/immaterial) in terms of the other (body/material). On the other hand, Gorgias states how the immaterial power of discourse affects the body by producing or limiting affects such as pleasure and pain. He writes, discourse is a great potentate, which by the smallest and most secret body accomplishes the most divine works; for it can stop fear and assuage pain and produce joy and make mercy abound” (§8). The mind/immaterial thus has a demonstrable or experiential element of control over the body, which is manifested in the affect system. Like Epictetus, Gorgias problematizes the relationship between mind and body, complicating it in this case by stating the existence of an avenue of control over the affect system on the part of the cognitive system. Thus in these first two readings we may gloss that there is (at least) a sort of two way street between mind and body in which each may affect/effect the other.

    In the third reading, “The Sophist,” Plato argues that “anything which possesses any sort of power to affect another, or to be affected by another, if only for a single moment, however trifling the cause and however slight the effect, has real existence; and I hold that the definition of being is simply power” (48). While Plato echos Gorgias’ call for a power relationship between mind and body, and Epictetus’ practice of considering one in the terms of the other, I think he cements these complex interrelationships between mind/body when he argues that the commonality between the nature of existence of both material and immaterial elements lies in the ability of a thing to affect another.

    In the last two readings, pleasure, flattery, and rhetoric emerge as central topics with the relationship between mind and body pushed to the background, however no less important. In fact, Plato begins with the relationship between mind and body and their corresponding arts to argue that flattery, (de)based in persuasive powers of the body, imitates these true arts in order to affect others. In “Gorgias,” Plato argues that there are four arts that correspond to the body and soul (gymnastics/medicine & politics-legislative/justice), and writes that in light of these divisions, “flattery knowing, or rather guessing their natures, has distributed herself into four shams or simulations of them; she puts on the likeness of some one or other of them, and pretends to be that which she simulates, and having no regard for men’s highest interests, is ever making pleasure the bait of the unwary, and deceiving them into the belief that she is of the highest value to them” (23). For Plato, the nature and critical issues around flattery (and pleasure) are issues of truth and ideal in that while there are the true divisions of man and the appropriate arts for treating each division, flattery is a thing that may only imitate these true paradigms. On the other hand, Plutarch writes, “Now one way of arming ourselves against these assaults [made by the flatterer] will be always to remember that – since our souls are made up of two different parts, the one sincere, honest, and reasonable, the other brutish, false, and governed by passion, – the friend always adapts his advice and admonitions to the improvement of the better part (like a good physician, who preserves and advances an healthful constitution where he finds it), whilst the flatterer claws and tickles the irrational part of the man only, debauching it from the rules of right reason by the repeated suggestion of soft and sensual delights” (14). Thus, while Plutarch also considers the flatterer as a threat to truth (in the broadest sense), and flattery as a disingenuous (un-true) art, his approach is a practical one even though he adopts Plato’s basic argument. While meandering through a maze of analogies, anecdotes, parables, and examples drawn from contemporary, historical, literary, and mythical sources, Plutarch gives advice on how to test one’s friend and discover one’s flatterer – that is, it is a pragmatic text, although one reserved for the wealthy for as Plutarch argues, why would one flatter a poor man? But despite the differing approaches, the problem posed by flattery in both readings, is the danger of bodily persuasion.

  • 6. Katrina Newsom  |  September 13, 2007 at 3:03 pm

    What interests me most about the readings relate primarily to the simplicity of the arguments. In referring to the arguments as simple, I am speaking specifically to the speakers’ ability to take very complex philosophies and thoughts and argue them through the bases of terms. Some of the positions of the speakers, I found to be problematic and although I understand that the discourses of these authors may be deemed by some as antiquated, I could not help to juxtapose it to contemporary theory. For example, Epictetus’s argument “On Adornment” when he explains to the young student of rhetoric that a man who adorns himself, and cleans himself by way of shaving and plucking performs an unnatural act reinforces the idea of gender roles which in contemporary thought and theory has been complicated by the concepts of identity fragmentation, etc. Therefore, to affirm that in cleansing: “your true, natural self: let man be clean as man, woman as woman, child as child” solidifies limitations and borders of the role of the body that have been deconstructed over and again; being deemed as an unstable form of identity. Having said this, I did find his overall argument compelling in that he tries to convince the young man that the inner adornment of the man or rather the human virtue far exceeds the importance of the outer beauty. His form of argument is similar to my experience in reading the bible. He employs the question answer technique while using similes and metaphors as a way to draw connections.
    Likewise, the works of Plato (The Sophist and The Gorgias) also use the same techniques. For instance, Socrates in The Gorgias debates against Gorgias and his student and Callicles by contrasting the use of medicine (which edifies the body) to cookery (which only gives delight and pleasure) in his attempt to argue against the art of rhetoric. The audience experiences a question and answer form of debate that places Socrates in a seemingly superior position. According to Plato’s take on such a debate, we find that Socrates’s opponents are not able to define rhetoric as an art, and thus, are made silent leaving the audiences with only Socrates’s definition of rhetoric in which he defines as an experience: an experience that neither edifies the body or the mind. However, Gorgias in “The Encomium of Helen”, where he uses many rhetorical techniques to argue her innocence, believes that “the power of discourse stands in the same relation to the soul’s organization as the pharmacopoeia does to the physiology of bodies.” It could be argued that such statements, as Gorgias’s is an example of Plutarch’s concept of flattery. Plutarch’s “How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend” characterizes flatterers as imitators who induce their desired target with intoxicating forms of flattery that leave the individual in a self-inflated delusional state. And yet, I argue that this form of inducement is applied in Plato’s arguments against the rhetoricians and the sophists. For example, the word justice as used in Plato’s works induced an intended reaction from the audience that would contribute to discrediting the sophist and rhetorician’s ability to teach virtue. In using the terms justice and injustice, Plato attempts to vilify the art of sophistry and rhetoric, but ultimately, his attempts failed because the terms justice and injustice are ambiguous. Once again, I am compelled to account for the time and place of these writings, but in understanding these writings today, if we are to look at the arguments of the two challengers of the art of persuasion we must schematize the meaning of justice and injustice in the same manner as the term rhetoric.

  • 7. Michael Cipielewski  |  September 13, 2007 at 3:03 pm

    Plutarch’s representation of the flatterer shows certain reciprocity in context of, for lack of better terms, a “gaze”. The representation of the mind as being partially or wholly out of our individual control is alarming (In a sense it is an examination of nature versus nurture, polarizing Socrates’ view of “transcendental truth/knowledge”, and fluidic truth/knowledge malleable through experience.). Outside influence (mind control?) is an oppositional force with which an individual must “grapple” with; the mind influenced to some degree, and thusly constructed in part by an external, influential force. As Plutarch explains, either as self-deprecation or self-absorption, flatteries “only entertain us with the pleasure of some love-intrigue, or make us indiscreetly angry or envious, or blow us up into an empty troublesome opinion of ourselves [….]”, and so influence in a capacity which manifests psychic elements that were either in lesser degrees, or essentially non-existent, obscuring psychic and mental “truth”.

    However, the “gaze” is more the execution of perspective; in an exercise of externality, the mind “bounces off” an influence, and so fitting “the modern view that all knowledge is relatives (Sophist)” by “checking” itself against something external, and either accepting or rejecting the sum of the action in this sort of external “processing”.

    With this relationship in mind, it is difficult to discern embodiment as being self-contained. If the mind is to be considered an aspect of embodiment, it is difficult to tell where one body begins and another ends. The individual is, in Plato’s conception, an image-maker, where individuals (mentally) embody themselves under some control of the external. The process of self image-making and collective image-making (collectivity in the context of the gaze) further complicates recognizing a division between the self and the many.

    But is mental embodiment embodiment at all? Is this act of self-making evidence for the (re)connection of the body and mind, or simply a side effect of embodiment as an approximation? And so it seems that embodiment in light of image-making supposes an even more complex question concerning authorship: who is the “author” of being?

    Plainly the rhetorician is represented as a flatterer, the proverbial “jack of all trades, master of none” (As a sidenote: is the traditional understanding of the “Jack/Knave” as a deceiver factored properly into the proverb?), but is the wielder of rhetoric in full control or purposefully using specious arguments? And in this context, how then can sophism and rhetoric be reconciled as separates, or approximations of one another? In his dialogue with Gorgias, Socrates alludes to rhetoricians being just, and thusly rhetoric itself being just, and Sophists possessing inverse traits. There is an acknowledgement that the unjust rhetoric may exist; if unjust rhetoric is possible, as Gorgias admits, then how may an unjust rhetorician exist?

    A possible answer is given in the introduction to Gorgias: sufficiency and spectrum. There is a refusal to acknowledge approximations which exist within a threshold that allows categorization of an extant state of being. Rather, the definition of rhetoric or the rhetorician is refuted with a single exception (in repeated instances). It could be argued that the whole of Socrates’ argument implies a spectrum, given that the exceptions (both Socrates and the Stranger’s exceptions) are most often singular to a specific aspect of an argument, and so an acknowledgment of approximation in opposites, but there seems a refusal to accept approximation as sufficient when regarding rhetoric as one would regard a cobbler, angler, etc, and so by extension a lack to take perspective of the rhetorician and the sophist into account.

    The mind (psyche) question and the “Who/What is a sophist?” conundrum lend themselves to a greater question of perspective. Gogias’ “Encomium of Helen” puts this question into sharpest relief when he intends to “[bestow] rationality on the discourse” of others and thereby “having shown the truth.” And so, if “things, whether regarded individually or collectively, in many respects are, and in many respects are not (Sophist).” then are truth and knowledge simultaneous universal and individual experiences, solely transcendental truths interpreted, or somehow a greater complication of the two?

  • 8. Jared Grogan  |  September 13, 2007 at 3:17 pm

    It was particularly interesting to revisit Gorgias after reading some excerpts from the sophists in several courses last year. Quite a few new questions came up for me, but it was particularly constructive to be able to approach Gorgias and Plato while making the move across a handful of centuries –from Plato’s view of the Sophists– to the writing of Epictetus and Plutarch. Both later writers were really intriguing extensions of Plato’s central beliefs, particularly that, as Plutarch states, “truth be a ray of the divinity… and the source of all the good that derives upon either Gods or men.” Epictetus in particular reveals rather unabashedly just how such grand prescriptions about the “proper order of things” can really limit the even more grand and enduring debates underlying all the writing this week.
    In fact, concerning the immensity of the arguments involved, and the tortuous nature of the texts, it’s funny now to feel something oddly like familiarity and an increasing bias towards the Sophistic arguments when reading this massive philosophical/rhetorical debate around Plato and the Sophists, one involving rationalism/relativism, universals/particulars, existence/essence and the convoluted shift from mythos to logos (either the philosophical expression or more rhetorical/sophistic understanding of logos– just to make myself clear –or not). I’m still navigating my way through the early steps of a PhD in Comp/Rhet, but it is rewarding to continue to map out some of the more convoluted elements of these great arguments, and really appreciate some of the final ideas about knowledge, communication and Being in shifting contexts. So, maybe it’s my state of mind, but I’m starting to take serious offence when someone (even though they’re from classical antiquity) speaks up against sophistic arguments.
    Maybe I’m already indoctrinated before receiving the doctorate. I can feel a need to become someone fulfilling the program M.O. Revitalize and re-vision the Sophists… — hey you … tie the trampled work of the sophists to issues of globalism and pluralism, real life vs. virtual living, geographic communities vs. communities of choice, and just about any other pertinent issue you can think of. But it’s more than just a right of passage for those of us in comp/rhet that I sense. There is a broader urge I feel to shred apart narrow arguments about commanding a grand order of things. Since this is the kind of thing the Sophists free us up to do, and since I’m already feeling fast and loose with history, I’m feeling free to wonder about how the limitations to reason applied in an excerpt like On Adornment might apply to our early thoughts about embodiment and the body– if we transported him in a modern context.
    Feeling free to take Epictetus’s logic in an unscholarly way into today’s environment, it would first seem pretty obvious that Epictetus’ reasoning (like some of the rampant rationalism underlying globalization) would tend to see knowledge as acquired without resort to much diversity of experience (never mind making much consideration for somatic experience). The classic elevation of reason by Epictetus suggests that we just trust the body to nature and to God –and “keep it clean” of course. Perhaps, as a relatively well-groomed student of rhetoric myself, I should be concerned that if I adorn my body or hair, and fail to adorn only my ability to reason, Epictetus will tell me to hang myself, or castrate me for not following his Stoic order.
    In response to Epictetus’ threats, I’d like to hypothetically grant Epictetus’ young student of rhetoric the ability to travel through time and take Epictetus and his suddenly anachronistic ideas to Church Street in Toronto’s gay community. As a student of rhetoric (making sure he’s exceptionally well groomed on this particular day), he could walk Epictetus down the main drag, letting him see all the boys “begetting boys,” and the high-school students being brought up as plucked hairless citizens in a weird and unnatural world (!). Of course, after some initial shock and perhaps some years of therapy, Epictetus may see the beautiful reason in the beautiful people… including the embodiment of their rational will in a tight shirt from the brick-shirt-house and a great hair-cut. Maybe then he would be able to see how the body is enveloped and affected with discourse, and how Plato dissects this from elevated reason, and how he only further harnessed this in Stoicism.

  • 9. Crystal Starkey  |  September 13, 2007 at 3:39 pm

    Politics of Helen’s Gymnastics: Epictetus, Sophists & Flatterers

    Socrates considered rhetoricians and sophists as separate people with different responsibilities. But, if Rhetoric is truly a “success seeking project based on form” and Sophists are those who perfected that form – or rather, applied style and emotion to that form to enforce their point, then perhaps we could say Sophists are advanced, more effective rhetoricians? Or, in some circles, we may venture Sophists are the better bullshitters while the Rhetoricians are tightly wound “plain is beautiful” rhetoricians? Though rhetoricians and sophists have the same goal in mind: convincing the masses to adopt the educated, well-thought out plan, rhetoricians merely present the facts plainly, allowing the facts to speak for themselves, while the sophists add flair and well-timed, planned strategy to the process, aka: kairos. As their primarily oral culture slowly moved toward written literacy, the concept of kairos—though viewed quite differently by the sophists and Plato—was considered effective.
    When the sophists combined kairos and antithesis they could create something from nothing, prove innocence from guilt and so on. In Plato’s eyes, this was so strong and effective it could undermine the rules of science. Then, isn’t this just good bullshitting? At any rate, Gorgias the sophist applies this kairos with antithesis strategy in his “Encomium of Helen” where he disproves Helen’s guilt as the downfall of Troy. Through his effective bullshit, Gorgias claims Helen is exempt from guilt because she was persuaded by style, language, emotions, aggression, bodily appetite and offerings by Paris. This, then, according to Gorgias’ epistemology of kairos with antithesis, which can turn innocence into guilt and vice versa, proves Helen innocent and Paris guilty.
    But, let us consider for a moment that Helen had extraordinary passion for herself. While Plato does not think having extraordinary passion for oneself is all that bad, he DOES admit such excessive likeness for oneself prohibits right judgment of ourselves because, as we have been told times over, our affections blind us. This self love also, then, blinds us to right judgments of others, which in turn leads us to be terribly close and overtly vulnerable to the strategies of a flatterer such as the evil, Paris. Thus, since Helen had great self love, she fell easy prey to Paris the Flatterer. Dear, dear. It is all becoming clear now. If only Helen had tested Paris as Plutarch suggests before the fall of Troy, to test his suggested alliance and true devotion to her, this terrible tragedy might have been avoided. Perhaps, if Helen had realized that genuine friends are not always complimentary, agreeable and enthusiastic but, rather opt to tell her when she is wrong, obnoxious or out of taste before she further embarrasses herself, she might have understood the shallowness of Paris’ flattering and unquestioning support. The beautiful Helen with her exasperated self passion would have faired better had she realized, as Plutarch points out, that a flatterer will never rock her boat or be strong enough to challenge her negatively instead of reconstructing what exists only positively. Yes, we should pity Helen. She is most certainly the blind, weak victim, proved innocent by Gorgias’ bullshit, I mean, sophist strategy.
    And if Helen had heard Epictetus’ lecture on Adornment prior to being swooned by Paris, she might have realized that it was cruel of people all these years to leave her uncorrected, which Epictetus sights as a would-be significant cruelty to his students when they ask why he is so critical of their physical adornment. Helen, according to the sophists, was a victim, after all. Under Gorgias’ sophist strategy, Helen’s name is finally cleared, corrected, vindicated—earning even Epictetus’ support. What flair! What beauty! Helen was a victim because she was an example of Epictetus’ theory that “In every class of creatures nature produces some exceptional specimen,” but this (her rare specimen of immense beauty) was also what made her such easy persecution for Troy’s fall. Even Epictetus admits if it were not for men, women would have no one for whom to adorn themselves. While Helen had a natural draw to accentuate her beauty for men, in this case Paris, it was ultimately her beauty and weak gender which allowed her to be viewed as the wrong doer for all these years. Thank goodness for the Sophists who have, through breaking the rules of science, making possible out of the impossible and enhancing the enlightenment of bullshit proven that Helen is, indeed, innocent. Bravo.

  • 10. Jack McIntyre  |  September 13, 2007 at 4:46 pm

    In “The Gorgias” Socrates argues at length that power and pleasure are not the sources of happiness; rather, it is created through devotion to justice, goodness and wisdom, and the cultivation of the soul. His conclusion, which is presented in the form of a story but which he claims to believe, posits that one will be rewarded for this virtuous lifestyle in the afterlife. Underlying his arguments is the assumption that it is apparent what is right, true, wise, and just; this essay will assume it is not apparent. The stranger claims in “The Sophist” that “when a person supposes that he knows, and does not know; this appears to be the great source of all the errors in the intellect”. Socrates would likely agree with this statement; he expresses a similar sentiment in “The Gorgias”: “there is no evil which a man can endure so great as an erroneous opinion about the matters of which we are speaking”. Whether or not Socrates is aware of the uncertain foundation of his argument, he does seem to, or at least try to, convince others of his position, and they, presumably, do not recognize the ambiguity that underlies his point, since the form of the dialogues demands that they evaluate his argument and point out any inadequacies in his reasoning. Socrates uses rhetoric to (possibly) convince his audience that he and they know what they do not know, leading to erroneous opinions; he sabotages wisdom, his own ideal, using the art he criticizes.

    In “Encomium of Helen” Gorgias claims “either by will of Fate and decision of the gods and vote of Necessity did she [Helen] do what she did, or by force reduced or by words seduced or by love possessed.” He does not mention the possibility that she fled to Troy deliberately, freely, and with malice aforethought, a possibility not contradicted by any part of the Encomium. He then proceeds to prove how in each of the scenarios in his incomplete list belies her responsibility, and concludes she cannot be held accountable. In his discussion of rhetoric Gorgias indicates that it may overcome one’s will and therefore alleviate responsibility, but he fails to show that this did happen to Helen, only that, if his argument is accepted, it might have happened. Furthermore, he declares that the persuader is responsible, despite the inescapable implication of his argument that all people are at the mercy of others who have persuaded them; directly or indirectly, Helen’s persuader was likely persuaded by some other entity, and is therefore innocent; Gorgias’s argument negates all responsibility. The errors of reasoning in the Encomium are too numerous to mention.

    Unlike Plato, however, Gorgias acknowledges these inconsistencies, as is implied by his description of his discourse as a “plaything”, and confirmed with his claim that “all who have and do persuade people of things do so by molding a false argument”, and his audacity in flying in the face of literary tradition and defending a villain. In his reflexivity Gorgias is more intellectually honest than Plato; he acknowledges that rhetoric is both inescapable and inescapably manipulative. While Plato violates the ideal to which he claims to adhere, Gorgias, with his apparent cynicism and nihilism, actually supports this ideal.

    Socrate’s faith-based philosophy and Gorgias’s implied skepticism of the possibility of “Truth” relates Patocka’s “Heretical Essays on the Philosophy of History”, which addresses the development of responsibility in Europe. The demonic mystery, a partly sexual, animal urge, is contained and subjected to responsibility by Platonism, but the mystery remains intact; it simply changes form. Later Christianity introduces a personal God in place of Plato’s impersonal Good, furthering the development of responsibility in Europe, but for Patocka this process is not yet complete, as Christianity still preserves an element of mystery.

    Within the context of this essay, the point is that the development of responsibility in Europe is inextricably linked to the idea of faith in an immortal soul; while the ancient Greeks may not have thought about accountability in the way we do today, their debates foreshadow an argument still taking place between those who demand culpability for wrongdoers for reasons of faith and skeptics who point out the shaky, perhaps nonexistent, rational foundation of this faith and are then confronted by the extraordinarily difficult task of a building a system of responsibility/morality without relying on some form of immortality. The alternatives to faith almost inevitably imply nihilism and anarchy, which are obviously problematic from a practical standpoint. In comparing “The Gorgias” and Encomium we can see how old this debate is, and the advantages and problems of resorting to faith as the source of human responsibility.

  • 11. Jennifer Niester  |  September 13, 2007 at 7:31 pm

    The Goals of Rhetoric from Socrates to Bill O’Reilly

    When looking to define the art of rhetoric; Socrates likened it to cooking, an art which does not consider the outcome but the deliverance of pleasure. While he concedes that there may be rhetoric that is created for the betterment of the public, he finds most don’t have this as its goal. In fact, Socrates defines most as a form of flattery “having no other aim but to afford gratification, whether good or bad.” A flatterer doesn’t shy away from opinions that suit the statesmen and not the general public; indeed, the flatterer claims these opinions to be his own, at least according to Plutarch.
    From my viewpoint as a composition instructor, flattery is a strange way to conceive of rhetoric. It’s very different than the triad of ethos, pathos, and logos that I’ve embraced when instructing students. However, I have to wonder if the rhetoric that frequents the 24/7 cable news stations is more geared toward persuading by inducing visceral effects, such as pleasure, instead of convincing with the composition favored forms defined by Aristotle. Ethos could not be a consideration for Bill O’Reilly, who researchers at Indiana University found to use derogatory remarks every 6.8 seconds. Clearly he is meant to entertain. As the figurehead of a news station geared towards a conservative audience, one has to wonder if FOX News Station is full of flatterers? According to Plutarch, the flatterer “composes his nature, like unformed matter, striving to fit and adapt by imitation to the person on who he designs, that it may be pliant and yielding to any impression that he shall think fit to stamp upon it…” In the media, flatterers are not pretend-friends gathered around an important individual, but a corporation, the Geraldo Rivieras espousing whatever stance will give them the most gain. By sounding tough-minded, news commentators may come off as a “friend,” however, their loyalty remains with the source of their paycheck.
    Now that we’ve established some connection between the flatterers and commentators on corporate news stations, the question of what has changed arises. While clearly shows like Hannity & Colmes are designed to entertain, is the goal of the news station to give pleasure? Or is pleasure masking a larger goal, such as fear?
    In Empire, Antonio Negri and Michael Hardt discuss the role of “fear” in relation to “the spectacle,” arguing, “Although the spectacle seems to function through desire and pleasure (desire for commodities and pleasure of consumption), it really works through the communication of fear-or rather, the spectacle created forms of desire and pleasure that are intimately wedded to fear.” Fear is not a word that is present in the assigned readings, yet there is a distinct similarity in the way Plutarch describes the discourse of flatterers and the messages that the media sends its audience (or more aptly consumers). Plutarch writes:
    the discourses of a flatterer…only entertain us with the pleasure of some love-intrigue, or make us indiscreetly angry or envious…or else they exasperate any in-bred naughtiness that is in us, or our illiberality or distrustfulness… Are you angry? Revenge yourself, says he. Covet you anything? Have it. Are you afraid? Fly. Suspect you this or that? Believe it.

    In the descriptions given by Socrates, the desires and impulses flattery targeted were more tied to the soul than the body. However, now we might think about these affects as more physical rather than spiritual. Certainly, what we call the culture of fear today doesn’t discuss the fright people feel for their souls, but for their bodies. To tie this relationship back to the other readings, the “appearance” rhetoric creates can lead to a physical reality: laughter, tears, anxiety, etc. If I feel something, it is real to me. If that feeling is negative, I am going to try and change that reality. Here, the power of rhetoric is clear. I would like to continue on why, though the methods are the same, the goal of rhetorical flattery has changed, but alas, I am out of space.

  • 12. Jule Wallis  |  September 14, 2007 at 11:51 am

    Jule Wallis
    ENG 7007
    Week One
    Plato, through the voice of Socrates in Gorgias, attempts to solidify the meaning of truth, beauty, justice, morality, and so on. Three characters are utilized: the famous Sophist rhetorician Gorgias, Polus, and Callicles. Plato’s/Socrates’ witty and playful dialogue at first conceals his loaded universals and his definition of man’s ideal state of existence. Throughout the dialogue, we rarely hear Gorgias’ point of view, and while Socrates appears to employ an open-ended discussion, in actuality, Socrates produces a form of dialectical fiction; one in which he convinces others to follow his own ideals of life, morality, and action.
    Socrates introduces three paradoxes within Gorgias. Socrates utilizes these three paradoxes for the purpose of defining and teaching formal logic. The ambiguity of definitions such as good, evil, pleasure, morality, justice are solidified and defined within the Gorgias dialogue. The universals which Socrates introduces are as follows: (1) to do evil is worse than to suffer evil; (2) when one has done evil, it is better for that man (specifically his soul) to be punished rather than un-punished; (3) evil men do what may be pleasurable to them or seen as being best, but not what they desire; and (4) only truth and goodness are to be sought and that the greatest good is that of the greatest number. Consequently, according to Socrates, the desire of all is towards that which is good. Thus, pleasure must be disassociated from good, for pain can be good just as pleasure can be bad. Because of length limitations, I will only focus upon Socrates’ concept of good and pleasure.
    By breaking Socrates’ paradigms of good and pleasure, it may be possible to examine the contradictions within his theory. If I had more time (and was allowed greater text length) I would juxtapose Socrates’ philosophy with that of Gorgias’, specifically that of knowledge. For, while Socrates believes in qualified knowledge, Gorges believes in unqualified knowledge. In the dialogue of Helen and in Fragments, Gorgias asserts that “nothing exists,” and even if it did exist, it would be unknowable and impossible to convey. For the Sophist’s, then, the only truth/knowledge that exists is one that is subjective and personal. Thus, unlike Socrates, Gorgias believes that there is no concrete concept of good, beauty, morality, and so on. Rather, what may be good or moral for one may be ugly and immoral for another. It is our perceptions and experiences which define our knowledge of things/words/concepts not the other way around. But now back to Socrates and his theory of good (morality) and pleasure.
    From the beginning, Socrates remarks that he himself is the only true politician of his age, yet in other passages he disclaims being a politician at all. Thus, while Socrates never “teaches” or defines what is good and what is evil, he nevertheless indicates that he is the only individual who possesses the power to do so; no one else has the understanding and expertise to function as a true politician. In other words, Socrates utilizes dialectical reasoning to bring others to an agreement with his own ideals. Callicles seems to recognize this paradox when he suggests that Socrates should start answering his own questions. And eventually Socrates does so by defining what is good: “one man must do for two.”
    Thus, good (happiness) is that which betters not only the sou,l but the greatest number. While it is important to understand that Socrates’ concept of happiness not concrete, Socrates fails to grapple with the paradox that the greatest happiness of the greatest number may mean the greatest pain for the individual. The good, then, may not contain pleasure and is objective rather than subjective. For as Socrates states: “…pleasure is to be pursued for the sake of the good, and the good is that of which the presence makes us good.” It seems unfair, though, to associate the principle of good-which is defined as objective by Socrates- to the principle of pleasure-which is subjective. The preeminence of good, then, comes from the assumption that it is objective and therefore free from passion, immorality, and ultimately for the better good. Yet, having read Gorges, one begins to question the concept of a universal and objective goodness/morality; for each epoch had its own concept of good/moral. Thus which is the case- that words function as a symbol of universal truths or that words acquire their meaning by association with external social formations, ideas and behaviors?

  • 13. Jule  |  September 14, 2007 at 7:03 pm

    Jule Wallis
    ENG 7007
    Week One
    Plato, through the voice of Socrates in Gorgias, attempts to solidify the meaning of truth, beauty, justice, morality, and so on. Three characters are utilized: the famous Sophist rhetorician Gorgias, Polus, and Callicles. Plato’s/Socrates’ witty and playful dialogue at first conceals his loaded universals and his definition of man’s ideal state of existence. Throughout the dialogue, we rarely hear Gorgias’ point of view, and while Socrates appears to employ an open-ended discussion, in actuality, Socrates produces a form of dialectical fiction; one in which he convinces others to follow his own ideals of life, morality, and action.
    Socrates introduces three paradoxes within Gorgias. Socrates utilizes these three paradoxes for the purpose of defining and teaching formal logic. The ambiguity of definitions such as good, evil, pleasure, morality, justice are solidified and defined within the Gorgias dialogue. The universals which Socrates introduces are as follows: (1) to do evil is worse than to suffer evil; (2) when one has done evil, it is better for that man (specifically his soul) to be punished rather than un-punished; (3) evil men do what may be pleasurable to them or seen as being best, but not what they desire; and (4) only truth and goodness are to be sought and that the greatest good is that of the greatest number. Consequently, according to Socrates, the desire of all is towards that which is good. Thus, pleasure must be disassociated from good, for pain can be good just as pleasure can be bad. Because of length limitations, I will only focus upon Socrates’ concept of good and pleasure.
    By breaking Socrates’ paradigms of good and pleasure, it may be possible to examine the contradictions within his theory. If I had more time (and was allowed greater text length) I would juxtapose Socrates’ philosophy with that of Gorgias’, specifically that of knowledge. For, while Socrates believes in qualified knowledge, Gorges believes in unqualified knowledge. In the dialogue of Helen and in Fragments, Gorgias asserts that “nothing exists,” and even if it did exist, it would be unknowable and impossible to convey. For the Sophist’s, then, the only truth/knowledge that exists is one that is subjective and personal. Thus, unlike Socrates, Gorgias believes that there is no concrete concept of good, beauty, morality, and so on. Rather, what may be good or moral for one may be ugly and immoral for another. It is our perceptions and experiences which define our knowledge of things/words/concepts not the other way around. But now back to Socrates and his theory of good (morality) and pleasure.
    From the beginning, Socrates remarks that he himself is the only true politician of his age, yet in other passages he disclaims being a politician at all. Thus, while Socrates never “teaches” or defines what is good and what is evil, he nevertheless indicates that he is the only individual who possesses the power to do so; no one else has the understanding and expertise to function as a true politician. In other words, Socrates utilizes dialectical reasoning to bring others to an agreement with his own ideals. Callicles seems to recognize this paradox when he suggests that Socrates should start answering his own questions. And eventually Socrates does so by defining what is good: “one man must do for two.”
    Thus, good (happiness) is that which betters not only the sou,l but the greatest number. While it is important to understand that Socrates’ concept of happiness not concrete, Socrates fails to grapple with the paradox that the greatest happiness of the greatest number may mean the greatest pain for the individual. The good, then, may not contain pleasure and is objective rather than subjective. For as Socrates states: “…pleasure is to be pursued for the sake of the good, and the good is that of which the presence makes us good.” It seems unfair, though, to associate the principle of good-which is defined as objective by Socrates- to the principle of pleasure-which is subjective. The preeminence of good, then, comes from the assumption that it is objective and therefore free from passion, immorality, and ultimately for the better good. Yet, having read Gorges, one begins to question the concept of a universal and objective goodness/morality; for each epoch had its own concept of good/moral. Thus which is the case- that words function as a symbol of universal truths or that words acquire their meaning by association with external social formations, ideas and behaviors?

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