Sophistical Rhetoric in Classical Greece , livre ebook

Studies in Rhetoric/Communication
Thomas W. Benson, General Editor
Sophistical Rhetoric in Classical Greece
John Poulakos
The University of South Carolina Press
© 1995 University of South Carolina
Cloth edition published by the University of South Carolina Press, 1995 Paperback edition published by the University of South Carolina Press, 2008 Ebook edition published in Columbia, South Carolina, by the University of South Carolina Press, 2013
www.sc.edu/uscpress
22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
The Library of Congress has cataloged the cloth edition as follows:
Poulakos, John, 1948–
Sophistical rhetoric in classical Greece / John Poulakos. p. cm. (Studies in rhetoric/communication) Includes bibliographical references and index. Contents: Sophistical rhetoric and its circumstances Terms for sophistical rhetoric Plato's reception of the sophists Isocrates' reception of the sophists Aristotle's reception of the sophists. ISBN 0-87249-899-9 1. Rhetoric, Ancient. 2. Sophists (Greek philosophy) I. Title. II. Series. PA3265.P68 1994 808’.0481 dc20 94 18680
The author acknowledges the following sources for their permission to use previously published material in this book: From “Terms for Sophistical Rhetoric” in Rethinking the History of Rhetoric , edited by Takis Poulakos, copyright 1993; by permission of Westview Press, Boulder, Colo. From “Toward a Sophistical Definition of Rhetoric,” Philosophy and Rhetoric 16, no. 1 (1983): 35–48, copyright 1983 by Pennsylvania State University; by permission of Penn State Press, University Park, Penn. From “Early Changes in Rhetorical Practice and Understanding: From the Sophists to Isocrates,” Texte: Revue de Critique et Théorie Littéraire 8–9 (1989): 307–24; by permission of Les Editions Paratexte Ltees, Toronto. From “Rhetoric, the Sophists, and the Possible,” Communication Monographs 51, no. 3 (1984): 215–26; by permission of Speech Communication Association, Annandale, Va. From “The Possibility of Rhetoric's Early Beginnings,” in The Van Zelst Lecture in Communication , copyright 1991; by permission of Northwestern University, Evanston, Ill.
ISBN 978-1-57003-792-4 (pbk) ISBN 978-1-61117-180-8 (ebook)
To Dionysius, a master of opportunities To Anastasia a servant of proprieties To Valy, a visionary of possibilities
Contents
A Note on Translations and Editions Used
Orientation
Introduction
Chapter 1 Sophistical Rhetoric and Its Circumstances
Chapter 2 Terms for Sophistical Rhetoric
Chapter 3 Plato's Reception of the Sophists
Chapter 4 Isocrates' Reception of the Sophists
Chapter 5 Aristotle's Reception of the Sophists
Conclusion
Selected Bibliography
Index
A Note on Translations and Editions Used
When citing material from or about the sophists in English, I am using the translations found in Rosamond K. Sprague, ed., The Older Sophists (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1972). I am also using her system of reference. Thus, in the citation “Gorgias (82B.8),” “82” refers to Gorgias; “B” refers to the section entitled Fragments; and “8” refers to a fragment attributed to Gorgias by Clement. When citing in Greek, I am using Hermann Diels, Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker , 2nd ed. (Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1922).
When citing from Plato in English, I am using the translations in Edith Hamilton and Huntington Cairns, eds., The Collected Dialogues of Plato (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1973), or those in the Loeb texts. In some cases, I am using a combination of the two.
When citing in Greek, I am using the Loeb texts for Plato. Unless otherwise noted, I am also using the Loeb texts in the case of Isocrates, Aristotle, Aristophanes, Thucydides, and the other ancient authors.
No author I know of has found a satisfactory solution to the problem of using the personal or possessive pronouns (third person singular) so that, when their reference is a gender-free noun (i.e., person, politician), they treat the masculine and feminine genders equally. This problem has been especially acute while writing this book, which includes close readings and exact translations of passages in Greek, a language whose nouns are masculine, feminine, or neuter. As the reader will notice, my use of the aforementioned pronouns in this book is not uniform throughout. When discussing matters reflecting the Hellenic culture of the fifth and fourth centuries B.C ., or when explicating a particular Greek passage, I have used “he” and “his” to refer to a masculine noun. But when I generalize and my comments apply to modernity, I have used “(s)he” and “his/her” to refer to a gender-free noun.
It is noteworthy that the Greeks, too, had concerns, although different from ours, about the gender of particular nouns and pronouns. See, for example Aristophanes' Clouds (685 ff.) and Aristotle's Sophistical Refutations (chap. 14).
Orientation
Broadly speaking, this book is about our capacity for and susceptibility to rhetoric, two characteristics that for many centuries have been construed mostly as liabilities and once in a great while as endowments. Since the time of the pre-Socratics, people have been schooled to think of their capacity for most words as a proclivity to error, excess, or indulgence. Moreover, they have been trained to believe that their susceptibility to the charming words of others constitutes a weakness to be overcome by means of such fortifying agents as approved versions of reason, dialectical know-how, and objectivity. The logic of this kind of inculcation rests on the axiom that most human beings are deficient by nature, and the corollary that they need to be improved. According to self-righteous church figures, shrewd tyrants, and unwise thinkers, improvement consists of espousing their moralistic blueprints, following their political manifestos, and adopting their hyperlogical schemata respectively. In their minds, betterment demands that one become increasingly knowing, rational, and moral; at the same time it requires that one overcome ignorance, irrationality, and evil in its linguistic manifestations. In its simplest form, this directive amounts to the approval of some words and the disapproval of others. That this is so becomes apparent when one notes that the lessons of the improvers of humankind have generally sought justification in appeals to destiny, divine revelation, or clear and distinct ideas; and it also becomes apparent when one discovers that most improvers have consistently warned against any language that allows for human passions, inexplicable desires, or efforts to constitute one's life the best way one can. Linking such language to the devil term sophistry, they have propagated a pervasive logophobia, the fear that untamed utterances spell calamity and that uninspected discourses can lead to yet another Fall. In conjunction with this fear, they have also issued time and again this warning about the human capacity to listen: it must discriminate between various voices and turn itself obediently only to the one voice that really knows; the one that speaks with the authority of the hidden secrets of the universe. Between the injunction for muffled, endlessly qualified, or silent speech on the one hand, and the directive for exclusive attentiveness to the authentic voice of the Logos on the other, rhetoric has always had to reassert itself and demonstrate its necessity.
In contrast to their logophobic schooling, people have been reassured from time to time that their capacity for rhetoric distinguishes them from animals and accounts for human civilization. Whether this reassurance ever made anyone feel affirmed as a human being is very doubtful. Equally doubtful is the notion that the belief in our mastery over animals or our genius for civilization suffices to render the worth of our being unquestionable. One need not go very far to see that much of what we are is animal; and human civilization is far from a marvelous accomplishment in which we can all delight self-contentedly, without shame. Therefore, when one wishes to have influence on others, being assured of one's domination over animals can only serve as a meaningless form of consolation; and when one wonders about one's place in the world, being reminded of the progress of civilization can only fuel self-doubts and intensify one's alienation from others.
Someone once said that if you tell people for a hundred years that they are dogs, they will start barking. In the same spirit we can say that if you tell people for centuries that their desire to speak borders on transgression, they will fall silent. Once they do, adding insult to injury, you can assure them that their freedom of speech is constitutionally protected. In this way, you will be able to control them twice over: first because they will refrain from persuasive speaking, and second because they will mistrust even, or especially, the few eloquent transgressors of silence. In effect, you will have them convinced that they ought to be worthy servants of the Word (of the Church) and faithful followers of the Words (of the State). Over time, however, learned mistrust turns into apathy, while imposed servitude fosters the most daring dreams of freedom. Eventually, there comes a moment when even officially sanctioned Words fall on deaf ears. Depending on how one reads our present predicament, we may be living out this very moment.
The other side of the hypothetical scenario of barking people covers the occasional reminders of the greatne