Items related to Rhetoric in Tooth and Claw – Animals, Language,...

Rhetoric in Tooth and Claw – Animals, Language, Sensation - Hardcover

Hawhee, Debra

 
9780226398174: Rhetoric in Tooth and Claw – Animals, Language, Sensation

Synopsis

We tend to think of rhetoric as a solely human art. After all, only humans can use language artfully to make a point, the very definition of rhetoric. Yet when you look at ancient and early modern treatises on rhetoric, what you find is surprising: they're crawling with animals. With Rhetoric in Tooth and Claw, Debra Hawhee explores this unexpected aspect of early thinking about rhetoric, going on from there to examine the enduring presence of nonhuman animals in rhetorical theory and education. In doing so, she not only offers a counter-history of rhetoric but also brings rhetorical studies into dialogue with animal studies, one of the most vibrant areas of interest in humanities today. By removing humanity and human reason from the center of our study of argument, Hawhee frees up space to study and emphasize other crucial components of communication, like energy, bodies, and sensation. Drawing on thinkers from Aristotle to Erasmus, Rhetoric in Tooth and Claw tells a new story of the discipline's history and development, one animated by the energy, force, liveliness, and diversity of our relationships with our "partners in feeling," other animals.

"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.

About the Author

Debra Hawhee is McCourtney Professor of Civic Deliberation and professor of English and communication arts and sciences at Pennsylvania State University. She is the author of Moving Bodies: Kenneth Burke at the Edges of Language and Bodily Arts: Rhetoric and Athletics in Ancient Greece.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Rhetoric in Tooth and Claw

Animals, Language, Sensation

By Debra Hawhee

The University of Chicago Press

Copyright © 2017 The University of Chicago
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-226-39817-4

Contents

Note on Translations and Primary Sources,
Acknowledgments,
Introduction: Feeling Animals,
1 • Aristotle and Zoa Aisthetika,
2 • Zoostylistics after Aristotle,
3 • Beast Fables, Deliberative Rhetoric, and the Progymnasmata,
4 • Looking Beyond Belief: Paradoxical Encomia and Visual Inquiry,
5 • Nonhuman Animals and Medieval Memory Arts,
6 • Accumulatio, Natural History, and Erasmus's Copia,
Conclusion: At the Feet of Rhetorica,
Notes,
Bibliography of Primary Sources,
Bibliography of Secondary Sources,
Index,


CHAPTER 1

Aristotle and Zoa Aisthetika

The first characteristic of an animal is sensation; for even those which do not move or change their place, but have sensation, we call living creatures.

ARISTOTLE, De anima

The judgment is in perception.

ARISTOTLE, Nicomachean Ethics


Since Aristotle. If animal studies has an opening gambit, this phrase may be it. It was Aristotle, after all, who established the logos/alogos — the with- or without-logos (speech or reason) — distinction that so decisively cleaved humans from other animals. Even those who know that the logos/alogos distinction predates Aristotle acknowledge that he did something more emphatic: "With Aristotle," as classicist John Heath puts it, "the link between logos and humans, and the rejection of logos from the non-human, becomes explicit." Usually the "since Aristotle" gambit is accompanied by a gesture to the famous passage in the first book of the Politics where Aristotle declares humans to be the animals that have logos (zoon logon echon).

That passage may be worth another look, though, especially in conjunction with Aristotle's writings on other animals, on the soul, and on rhetoric, the artful use of language. Such a survey, as this chapter will show with more detail, helps to draw out a perceptive core of existence shared by all animals. This perceptive core is too often skipped over by scholars of Aristotle's rhetoric and politics, trained as they are to follow the path of logos.

But leaving behind the alogos — the without-logos — as a category, or even presuming that Aristotle did so, comes at a cost. That cost is a more comprehensive, fully fleshed-out theory of rhetoric. The trick is to approach alogos as something other than an absence of logos, to identify in positive terms what takes the place of logos. In other words, the privative work of the alpha (α, a) in alogos needn't make it a deficiency or, as Jacques Derrida formulates it, a withholding. Alogos, after all, names a part of the soul for Aristotle, a part that operates without reference to rationality; it is nonrational (as opposed to irrational). Alogos may therefore usefully be approached as a capacity or set of capacities. Resources for approaching the term as a capacity or set of capacities rather than a deficiency may be found in texts composed by Aristotle himself and in the capacities exhibited by the nonhuman animals that appear there.

Richard Sorabji, a philosopher long preoccupied with Aristotle's writings on nonhuman animals, models such an approach when he offers this observation: "If animals are to be denied reason (logos), and with it belief (doxa), then their perceptual content must be compensatingly expanded, to enable them to find their way around in the world." This perceptual expansion occurs on more than the content level where Sorabji leaves it. In the context of rhetorical theory, nonhuman animals expand into the role of proxy feelers and are often carriers of sensation. In such a view, the implications of which I develop in this chapter, an insistence on nonhuman animals' being aloga is as much an attribution as it is a denial or rejection, and this attribution of expansive, and oftentimes intense feeling to nonhuman animals helps account for their constitutive role in the teaching and shaping of rhetorical theory, as chapter 3 on fables will help show. Such constitutive force is not, or not always, as one might surmise, a simple constitutive outside — that which helps identify logos- having by precisely and only not having logos. Instead, this constitutive role works through instruction, illustration, and a persistent presumption of cross-species likeness.

Nonhuman animals therefore do the work of sensation, folding back on the logos they have been denied, lending it energetic life through sounds, shapes, textures, and movements. This does not mean they are only or even mere rhetorical objects or figures, but instead means that they infiltrate rhetorical life worlds through encounters imaginative and real. In short, in premodern rhetorical theory, and especially in Aristotle's key and formative texts, nonhuman animals exert a pull. And that pull is toward feeling.

As I will show, nonhuman animals frequently show up in passages where sensation and feeling matter most; Aristotle thereby exploits their ambiguous relation to categories of judgment and thought, but he consistently uses nonhuman animals to display feelings. Sensing, breathing, moving animals can at times embody pure spirit (thumos). They show feelings ranging from pleasure and pain to anger and friendliness. They can be especially confounding for critics when they show up in discussions of cultural economies of honor and shame so crucial for judgment, but less confounding if approached through the category of aisthesis, the ancient term for sense perception. For Aristotle, nonhuman animals also act as sensible objects in that they are observable, but they are also simultaneously sensing — on this Aristotle is completely unambiguous. This means that along with sensation, which is decidedly alogos, nonhuman animals often bring life, energy (energeia), to logoi, to speeches, to writings, or to words themselves. Such is the role they play in treatments of rhetorical style. Sensing, feeling animals help to fill out the parts of rhetoric that are alogos, but this does not mean that nonhuman animals remain far removed from the domain of logos. As this chapter's last section and the next chapter will show, nonhuman animals as lively, energetic, sensible beings inhabit discussions of rhetorical style, filling logos with life.

Nonhuman animals have capacities to be uniquely instructive for political life and for rhetorical theory. Aristotle does not underestimate those capacities, nor should we. To show how this constitutive force plays out, I will begin by reexamining the passage in the Politics that inspires all those "since Aristotles," putting it next to passages that draw out a more dynamic and lively version of alogos. I will then follow aloga zoa into the Rhetoric, showing how a zoocentric approach to rhetoric and to rhetorical theory stresses with specificity the components of rhetoric that are themselves alogos, outside the bounds of both verbal language and rationality, but nevertheless crucial for a comprehensive account of the art.


Aristotle's Politics of Aisthesis

Here, then, is the passage where Aristotle famously denies logos to all animals except human ones:

That man is much more a political animal than any kind of bee or any herd animal is clear. For, as we assert, nature does nothing in vain; and man alone of the animals has speech. The voice indeed indicates the painful or pleasant, and hence is present in other animals as well; for their nature has come this far, that they have a perception [aisthesin] of the painful and pleasant and signal these things to each other. But speech [ho de logos] serves to make visible [deloun] the advantageous and the harmful, and hence also the just and the unjust. For it is peculiar to man as compared with the other animals that he alone has a perception [aisthesin] of good and bad and just and unjust and the other things of this sort; and community [koinonia] in these things is what makes a household and a city.


In placing logos at the polis's center, Aristotle twice asserts a distinction between human and nonhuman animals. The first and more famous of these two assertions has to do with exclusivity: logos is that which man alone of the animals possesses. This assertion is too often where scholars stop. But the rest of the passage, the part that contains the second assertion, deserves attention as well. In elaborating the zoon logon echon doctrine, the passage moves from logos to sense perception (aisthesis) and — curiously — not back again. In remaining with aisthesis, the passage introduces the capacity that binds together all animals (human and nonhuman) in Aristotle's writings on the soul, on zoology, on ethics, and even — as I will show — on rhetoric.

In the Politics, the zoon logon echon distinction supports Aristotle's assertion that it is clear (delon) why "man is a much more political animal than any kind of bee or any herd animal." The comparative word rendered as "much more" is mallon, and the implication is that other animals are also political, just not as intensely so as anthropos. Supporting this reading is Aristotle's characterization of politika in History of Animals as "those which have some one common activity," a characterization he supports with a list of examples: "humans, bees, wasps, ants, cranes." Without the connection to the History of Animals it might be easy to overlook the centrality of aisthesis in the Politics passage. Indeed, even those scholars who insist on the connection between the two treatises stress the indicative work of logos over the perceptive work of aisthesis.

But the link across the two treatises — and the nonhuman animals prompting the link — ought to alert readers to the cross-species comparison happening here as much as to the differentiation. When the Politics passage unravels the claim about logos to a core of perception, that unraveling is enabled and shared by the nonhuman animals considered alogos in this scheme. Reading this passage as a gloss on the phone/logos (sound/speech) distinction rather than the logos/alogos distinction returns more forcefully to a base of aisthesis or sensation. Phone, in this passage, names the way animals signal "a perception of the painful and pleasant," while logos "serves to make visible (deloun) the advantageous and the harmful, and hence also the just and the unjust." That difference repeats in the second distinction, where Aristotle ascribes to anthropos alone "a perception of good and bad and just and unjust and the other things of this sort." Read in this way, the Politics passage places logos at a perceptual remove from the polis, for logos "serves to make visible" (epi to deloun) a perception of a just world, to, in a way, hand it over to or share it with other perceiving humans, thereby creating (or in some cases maintaining) an associative bond. That handing over of a perception, at least in this passage, constitutes a polis. This emphasis on sharing perceptions matters because it places all animals on the same plane in the way they participate in their world. On such a reading, the differences between sound and words seem smaller inasmuch as both are deemed the means by which animals exchange perceptions. But what humans are deemed to perceive and to make visible to others bears more of the cross-species difference than logos itself.

A similar emphasis on sharing perceptions or aisthesis constitutes friendship for Aristotle, and the relevant passage in the Nicomachean Ethics also distinguishes such perception sharing from the associative activity of nonhuman animals:

Existing is, as we saw, a choiceworthy thing because of a person's perception [aisthanesthai] that he is good, and this sort of perception [aisthesis] is pleasant on its own account. Accordingly, one ought to share in the friend's perception [sunaisthanesthai] that he exists, and this would come to pass by living together and taking part together in word and thought — for this is what living together would seem to mean in the case of human beings, and not as with cattle, merely feeding in the same place.


Here again, logos is presented as the means by which the perception of good is shared with others. The last line above sidesteps the point made in the Politics about animals signaling feelings of pleasure and pain to each other, thereby reaching for a sharper contrast between friendly humans chatting together and cattle grazing in the same field. In the Politics, though, logos and the shared perception it enables parallel the process nonhuman animals use to signal (semanein) perception, or aisthesis, of pleasure and pain. In both passages, according to Aristotle, political behavior — the associational gathering endemic to politika and communal sense making — depends on rhetorically assisted sense perception. Logos facilitates shared perception, sunaisthanesthai. At stake in the role of logos here is a making common, a sharing, of perceived lifeworlds, which could well operate as a general definition of rhetoric. The sensation at the heart of such a conception matters a good deal for the way rhetoric meets the problem of individuation. As philosopher Jill Frank notes in her commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics passage:

Aristotle's choice of the word aisthesis, perception, to describe what friends share is key. We perceive with our senses, and what we sense we perceive in its particularity or differences. Because we perceive in this way, one person cannot have another person's perception. To share a perception thus requires that the friend whose perception it is communicate it or make it common.


Later in this book I will have more to say about logos's perceptive capacity and how it works in the context of rhetoric. For now it is crucial to note that the process of making visible through logos abstract principles such as goodness or justice is embedded in the very definition of politika, but this does not mean that more direct sensations of pleasure and pain (the capacities of all animals) are excluded from that definition. Indeed, as Sorabji points out, and as Jessica Moss elaborates with considerable depth, De anima points the aisthesis of pleasure and pain toward good and bad as such, further softening the distinction in the Politics. Taking this aisthesis emphasis of politika and of political friendship back to the History of Animals helps to make better sense of the cross-species distinctions Aristotle asserts rather emphatically in that treatise: "Of all animals, the only deliberative one is anthropos. Many animals have the power of memory and can be trained; but the only one which can recall past events at will is anthropos." When temporality — the preservation of past perceptions through memory and the future-oriented, projective work of deliberation — is added to the mix, what results is a highly circumstantial, contingent, rhetorical account of aisthesis, one that Aristotle in other texts does not restrict to humans. Nonhuman animals, as creatures of the now, help to clarify this contingency precisely because they embody it. Any sense of the character of an action requires perception, or as Aristotle phrases it in the excerpt used as the epigraph to this chapter, "The judgment is in the perception." Embedded in this phrasing is the centrality and immediacy of aisthesis — a link between circumstance and perception — that needs to be drawn out and theorized in the context of rhetoric, and the most sensible place to begin is Aristotle's treatise on that subject. But first I want to consider more carefully three kinds of aisthesis Aristotle puts forth.


Three Kinds of Aisthesis

The handful of passages on human exceptionalism considered above form something of a self-referential loop: (human) perception of the just and good constitutes a polis, and participation in the polis by means of logos that works to vivify perception binds and distinguishes humans in the context of politics and friendship. Aristotle's conception of politika therefore depends at every turn on habits of perceiving and conveying perceptions, habits not necessarily restricted to humans in the Aristotelian corpus. On this reading, two kinds of aisthesis may be discerned in these passages, the division between which more accurately distinguishes humans from other animals in Aristotle's scheme: aisthesis as sensing pain and pleasure through touch and a host of other senses, a cross-species aisthesis that I will call "feeling aisthesis"; and the aisthesis of discerning the good or right, which Aristotle presents as a higher-order, justice-oriented, logos-dependent perception that I term "deliberative aisthesis."


(Continues...)
Excerpted from Rhetoric in Tooth and Claw by Debra Hawhee. Copyright © 2017 The University of Chicago. Excerpted by permission of The University of Chicago Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.