All the world's a stage . . .

Finally, we find someone who writes against the idea Vir Bonus that we have been discussing in class for the past two weeks. Trebizond, in his Rhetoricorum libre quinque, goes against Quintilian’s belief and declares that: “devoid of the requirement that the orator be a good man, in the moral sense. Rhetoric was, rather, a pragmatic political art indifferent to morality” (Conley 115). After reading the rest of Conley’s section devoted to Trebizond, I was not surprised that this man made such a statement, considering his was not a moral man himself (seeing that he did not credit Hermogenes, Cicero or Quintilan for several structural and cornerstone points of rhetoric) Ah, but ambition can corrupt a man, and the truth surfaced after his death as these ancient texts became more available to Greek Rhetorics due to Manuizo printing spree.

What struck me most about the Conley excerpt above was the word “art”. Not once in the past three weeks have I equated rhetoric to art—perhaps I formulated this idea due to the prescriptive nature of rhetoricians in our previous readings. Now, after mulling over this disequilibrium, I do agree with this concept that rhetoric can be considered an artistic endeavor. What is art? Is it a material medium? Do we classify art as “things” we can hang in a gallery or display on our wall? Is it scrap-metal contorted into a twisted image? A splattering of paint and sweat? A performance that we witness in the seats of a theatre? Pieces that can only be seen in antiseptic museums? The Oxford dictionary (yes, I am giving you the cliché definition plug) defines art as, “the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance.” Isn’t the art of rhetoric just that? the aesthetic expression of making a position appealing? Even beautiful to the ears, like Dionysius believed. Philodemus raised this question in his peri rhetirikēs and questions, “[C]an [rhetoric] legitimately be called and art; and on this subject Philodemus take the position that on kind of rhetoric, ‘sophist’ may qualify, but not others, such as courtroom or political rhetoric” (Conley 44). I believe that even the courtroom and political rhetoric can be considered artistic in the realm of delivery: with its orator gestures, facial expressions, body language and vocal tone performances that are taught to persuade the auditor. Augustine, in his De Doctrina Christiana, stresses in Book 4, that “the preacher should adapt his style to both his aim and his audience” and through his style “we wish not only to make ourselves understood, but even enjoyed” (Matsen 360 & 375). This “enjoyment” that the rhetorician wished to bestow upon his audience strike closely to the chords of entertainment—isn’t that what art does? entertain? Mesmerize? Captivate? Inspire?

. . .And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,”
As You Like It (II, vii, 139–143)

As we stray from the courtroom and political forum, and begin to cross the threshold of religious rhetoric, I begin to see how rhetoric can be considered art, and even theatrical (Gorgias). Trebizond believed that being a good orator (not a good man) could not be simply taught, but innate talent and intellect help create the ideal orator. Every successful artists must be talented to some degree; if not, then they are probably not very successful in their practiced field. The manipulation of an audience takes a great deal of talent and the success of an orator is based on his “performance”. I believe you have to have to be an intelligent, well practiced, well educated, quick, have the ability to improvise and charm the audience, and be a bit of an actor in order to be a successful orator. Rhetoric can be seen as an “art” with these considerations.

As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put besides his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart.
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might.
O, let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.
O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
-Shakespeare, Sonnet 23

(This is for Tony and Scott =)