Me vs. English

I appreciated Peter Barry's instruction to stop and think about my study of literature to date.  As one of the few non English degreed students in our class, I often feel like the wrong color duck in the pond.  I did have a time in my undergrad period where I was an English major, and I did take a surprising number of English classes (mostly writing classes) through the 8 years I spent earning my degree in Marketing. 

I don't remember not knowing how to read.  I didn't go to Kindergarten because there was no public Kindergarten where we lived when I was 5, but I went to first grade already reading whole books and knowing how to write in cursive.  I had a wonderful English teacher in high school who recommended that we set a goal of reading at least 50 books a year.  I accomplished that for many years, but I was an undisciplined reader.  I read whatever interested me or whatever was handy.  I rarely discussed it with people and never looked at criticism.  So my reading was a kind of close reading.  It didn't occur to me to wonder about the author or look into the historical period.  I learned a lot about a lot of things, but could only grab onto the things I had some understanding of.

Graduate studies have been an eye opener because so much more is expected.  A part of me resists looking so deeply into literature's context, maybe because it reveals so much about the author.  As a writer, I am uncomfortable knowing that I may betray my secrets in my writing.  Furthermore, I suspect that I am betrayed by my response to literature, and that worries me too.

Erasmus vs. everybody

Poor Erasmus.  After his death, Erasmus was considered by Catholics to be an moderate figure and an advocate of reform within the Church.  Some years later, he was viewed by the church as a near-heretic, and his writings were banned and suppressed because he was said to have "laid the egg that hatched the Reformation."  Similarly, after Erasmus' death Protestants recognized the work Erasmus did to support the ideals of the Reformation.  Later, they became disenchanted with Erasmus' critiques of Luther and the aims of the Reformation. 

Perhaps this is the lot of the humanist.  Religion is, after all, a supernatural pursuit, and it may always call upon supernatural "proof" in its arguments.  This gives religion a sort of trump card that rhetoric does not possess.  Religious arguments don't have to be logical and reasoned, they don't have to stand up to examination and the dialectic process.  Humanism asserts that Truth is found through human pursuits, especially the application of reason.  But there are no trump cards.  The conclusions of humanists are tenuous, and understood to be changeable if new information comes to light.  This is how it was possible for Erasmus to both support and criticize the Church, Luther, and the Reformation - thereby making an enemy of everyone.

Well done, Prince of Humanists.

Putting in your oar

Doug got me thinking about the whole "putting in your oar" metaphor used by Kenneth Burke and referred to by Gerald Graf.  According to the 1811 Vulgar Dictionary, it means "to intermeddle, or to offer an opinion unasked".  As it has been used in Britain, it is generally equivalent to "sticking your nose in someone else's business".  I had the idea that Burke was referring to "putting in your oar" as a way to help the group get where they are going - like adding another rower to the boat.  Of course, there's no way to be sure all will row in the same direction and in unison - maybe that's why we are still debating about ancient rhetoric.

As far as it being a phallocentric image, I didn't see that until it was mentioned in class.  I wonder if there's a comparable gynocentric image . . . No, I can't come up with a good one (although I can come up with some dirty ones).

Stasis Theory

I, too, am basically new to the idea of rhetoric, so stasis theory strikes me as brilliant.  No doubt all my well-educated classmates consider it old hat and already know what theory succeeded stasis theory.  For me, the appeal of stasis theory is its systematic process of running through the applicable arguments, so that the solution is nearly "scientific".  I'm much more comfortable in a world where there is truth and right.  Using stasis theory, any number of people could arrive at the same conclusion, even for a complicated problem or issue.

First comes the consideration of conjectural stasis - the exploration of the crucial fact in the problem.  If yes, it is time to look at definitive stasis, to determine if the terms used truly apply to this situation.  If yes, qualitative stasis follows, where reasons and excuses are offered.  Presuming the reasons are not compelling, the final test is translative stasis, where the authority or jurisdiction of those in power is questioned.  It could be put into a flow chart or a computer program.

Stasis theory is beautiful in its simplicity and order.  I am reminded of the work of the great Hebrew rabbis, toiling for centuries to discover solutions to all potential spiritual issues that their people would face.  Because the process is systematic, there is no need for personal politics.  I guess it is ultimately fair, within the bounds of the rules of the society.