Ask Figaro
Got a question about rhetoric, figures, Figaro, Figaro's book,the nature of the universe, or just want to lavish praise?
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Dear Figaro,
What term would you identify for an essay introduction that begins with a farcically broad opening phrase such as, "Since the beginning of time..." or "Through the ages..." I call such phrase openings cliches, but it's a little more than that, in relation to the student-writer's problematic choice of scope. Any suggestions?
DH
Dear DH,
Any labored, excessive writing can be classified as a PERIERGIA (per-ee-ER-ja). That's Greek for "overdoing it." Periergia falls under the larger category of overwriting. (The Greeks called it MACROLOGIA, which means "overwriting.")
But you asked about a specific kind of boring writing, the old "begin at the beginning" approach. If it's NOT boring, actually, it's a CHRONOGRAPHIA, a vivid description of a time or event, told chronographically. Otherwise you can call it a PERISTASIS, which gives all the details of a setting.
Figaro hates getting bogged down in technical terms--a sin called ARCANAPHILIA. So let's just call your students' figure the In the Beginning Beginning.
Incidentally, a ghost story told to freshmen at Dartmouth College begins with the beginning of geologic time in New Hampshire and proceeds up to the present, a deliberate attempt to lull the poor students before the story ends with a literal bang. The chronographia interruptus, if you will.
Fig.
What term would you identify for an essay introduction that begins with a farcically broad opening phrase such as, "Since the beginning of time..." or "Through the ages..." I call such phrase openings cliches, but it's a little more than that, in relation to the student-writer's problematic choice of scope. Any suggestions?
DH
Dear DH,
Any labored, excessive writing can be classified as a PERIERGIA (per-ee-ER-ja). That's Greek for "overdoing it." Periergia falls under the larger category of overwriting. (The Greeks called it MACROLOGIA, which means "overwriting.")
But you asked about a specific kind of boring writing, the old "begin at the beginning" approach. If it's NOT boring, actually, it's a CHRONOGRAPHIA, a vivid description of a time or event, told chronographically. Otherwise you can call it a PERISTASIS, which gives all the details of a setting.
Figaro hates getting bogged down in technical terms--a sin called ARCANAPHILIA. So let's just call your students' figure the In the Beginning Beginning.
Incidentally, a ghost story told to freshmen at Dartmouth College begins with the beginning of geologic time in New Hampshire and proceeds up to the present, a deliberate attempt to lull the poor students before the story ends with a literal bang. The chronographia interruptus, if you will.
Fig.
September 1, 2010 |
DH
DH
Dear Fig,
Is a lie a figure of speech as Stephanie Mencimer implies in her piece for Rolling Stone?
http://motherjones.com/politics/2010/08/glenn-beck-george-washington-restoring-honor
Love,
Mrs. Fig.
Dear Missus,
It's so nice that we loving spouses exchange sweet nothings over a public website. In this case you refer to Glenn Beck's claim that he "held the first inaugural address written in his own hand by George Washington."
The National Archives promptly replied that no one, not even a Constitution-adoring patriot, is permitted to touch the sacred documents. Glenn Beck most certainly did not make physical contact with Washington's first inaugural address.
But does his claim constitute a lie? According to Figaro's Oxford English Dictionary (the paper version, which the OED recently announced would soon be obsolete), to "behold" an object implies that one is holding that object in one's eye. This is a definite trope--a METONYMY, to be exact.
Therefore, Figaro declares Mr. Beck's little stretcher to be figurative (or, more accurately, tropical) and not a literal lie.
On the other hand, if Mrs. Figaro plans to take this conclusion badly, we declare Mr. Beck to be a lying two-faced bastard.
All my love,
Fig.
Is a lie a figure of speech as Stephanie Mencimer implies in her piece for Rolling Stone?
http://motherjones.com/politics/2010/08/glenn-beck-george-washington-restoring-honor
Love,
Mrs. Fig.
Dear Missus,
It's so nice that we loving spouses exchange sweet nothings over a public website. In this case you refer to Glenn Beck's claim that he "held the first inaugural address written in his own hand by George Washington."
The National Archives promptly replied that no one, not even a Constitution-adoring patriot, is permitted to touch the sacred documents. Glenn Beck most certainly did not make physical contact with Washington's first inaugural address.
But does his claim constitute a lie? According to Figaro's Oxford English Dictionary (the paper version, which the OED recently announced would soon be obsolete), to "behold" an object implies that one is holding that object in one's eye. This is a definite trope--a METONYMY, to be exact.
Therefore, Figaro declares Mr. Beck's little stretcher to be figurative (or, more accurately, tropical) and not a literal lie.
On the other hand, if Mrs. Figaro plans to take this conclusion badly, we declare Mr. Beck to be a lying two-faced bastard.
All my love,
Fig.
September 1, 2010 |
Mrs. Fig
Mrs. Fig
Dear Figaro
A friend just sent me this query: One of our architect’s little girls is visiting the office today and is reading a book where the characters’ names represent them (like Mrs. Little is tiny and Mr. Quatro teaches fourth grade). I know there’s a for it but can't remember it. Can you help?
I think it's just a pun, but she's not so sure. What say you?
Thank you!
Bonsmots
Dear Bonnie,
The Littles and Quatros of this world constitute a periphrasis (per IF rah sis), the figure that swaps a description for a proper name. That's Greek for "speak around." While most periphrases are more than one word (e.g., He Who Must Not Be Named), the descriptive one-word nickname counts as well.
Fig.
A friend just sent me this query: One of our architect’s little girls is visiting the office today and is reading a book where the characters’ names represent them (like Mrs. Little is tiny and Mr. Quatro teaches fourth grade). I know there’s a for it but can't remember it. Can you help?
I think it's just a pun, but she's not so sure. What say you?
Thank you!
Bonsmots
Dear Bonnie,
The Littles and Quatros of this world constitute a periphrasis (per IF rah sis), the figure that swaps a description for a proper name. That's Greek for "speak around." While most periphrases are more than one word (e.g., He Who Must Not Be Named), the descriptive one-word nickname counts as well.
Fig.
August 13, 2010 |
bonsmots
bonsmots
Dear Figaro,
I'm doing my advanced placement English comprehension summer work and we had to read your book thank you for arguing. I thought it was great book :) anyway, we had a question and I was wondering if u could answer it. The question is: research the authors background and discover how his life experiences have influenced the content and context of the book. I figured who better to ask than the author himself, so if you could get back to me soon, that would be awesome :) thanks!
Alicia
Dear Alicia,
My most relevant life experience are written up in the book itself, when I talk about my family. My wife and I believed that happy couples never argued; but since we started manipulating each other rhetorically (we recognize each other's tricks, which just makes it all the more fun), we've become a happier couple.
Our kids, in turn, learned that they could get their dad to change his mind as long as they came up with a good argument. The realized that they're largely responsible for getting what they want out of a person like a parent.
One thing that isn't in the book: my career, like that of most adults, has relied on persuasive techniques through the years. Being a pretty eggheaded, rational type myself, I often found myself frustrated that people didn't naturally accept the unassailable logic in my proposals and presentations. That's one reason why I grasped rhetoric the way a drowning man grabs a life preserver. Once it taught me the principles of Ethos--the orator's persuasive image--I found that people were starting to pay more attention to what I said, and occasionally even taking me up on my proposals.
You've probably noticed that life comes more easily for some kids. With any luck, you're one of them, Alicia. Teachers praise them more, they get picked more for stuff, they gets the awards...life's unfair, and it's unfair in their favor. Looks have a lot to do with it, and maybe brains, but it all comes down to their Ethos. Rhetorical skills help you make life unfair in your favor.
Fig.
I'm doing my advanced placement English comprehension summer work and we had to read your book thank you for arguing. I thought it was great book :) anyway, we had a question and I was wondering if u could answer it. The question is: research the authors background and discover how his life experiences have influenced the content and context of the book. I figured who better to ask than the author himself, so if you could get back to me soon, that would be awesome :) thanks!
Alicia
Dear Alicia,
My most relevant life experience are written up in the book itself, when I talk about my family. My wife and I believed that happy couples never argued; but since we started manipulating each other rhetorically (we recognize each other's tricks, which just makes it all the more fun), we've become a happier couple.
Our kids, in turn, learned that they could get their dad to change his mind as long as they came up with a good argument. The realized that they're largely responsible for getting what they want out of a person like a parent.
One thing that isn't in the book: my career, like that of most adults, has relied on persuasive techniques through the years. Being a pretty eggheaded, rational type myself, I often found myself frustrated that people didn't naturally accept the unassailable logic in my proposals and presentations. That's one reason why I grasped rhetoric the way a drowning man grabs a life preserver. Once it taught me the principles of Ethos--the orator's persuasive image--I found that people were starting to pay more attention to what I said, and occasionally even taking me up on my proposals.
You've probably noticed that life comes more easily for some kids. With any luck, you're one of them, Alicia. Teachers praise them more, they get picked more for stuff, they gets the awards...life's unfair, and it's unfair in their favor. Looks have a lot to do with it, and maybe brains, but it all comes down to their Ethos. Rhetorical skills help you make life unfair in your favor.
Fig.
August 13, 2010 |
Alicia
Alicia
Dear Figaro,
On his blog "wakingupnow" Rob Tish has coined the term "argument-ex-contradictio", describing the behaviour of making several mutually contradictory statements that are worded to sound superficially as if they support each other. He gives a good example in this blog-post: http://wakingupnow.com/blog/the-argument-ex-contradictio. They efficiency of the method would come from the fact that the opponents cannot really mount a counter-argument, since the original argument has no clear line to attack... each counter-argument would somehow seem to be already refudiated by one of the contradictory factoids presented in the original "argument".
I knew at once the sort of rhetoric he means, and I was wondering is there is already some term in use to describe this infuriating bahviour.
Martin
Dear Martin,
Rob's Latin leaves something to be desired, and I'm not sure that a string of self-contradictory ill-logic deserves any label but "mess." To rebut it, there certainly is a clear line of attack; just about any line, in fact. The commentator Rob refers to says this, for instance: "Uganda’s anti-gay bill formally extends the death penalty to homosexuals who commit pre-existing capital crimes." A simple rebuttal would ask, "How can the death penalty be 'extended' to a group already covered by it?"
But the commentator's technique, if there is any, lies not in any abuse of logic but in his refusal to engage at all. Rob's attempts to learn more about the issue led to his being de-friended on the commentator's Facebook page. And here's the rub: most political argument isn't about logic at all. It's about tribes. Get your own tribe more riled up than the enemy's tribe, and you'll win the battle.
The problem, in short, isn't logic at all. It's our increasingly tribal culture.
Fig.
On his blog "wakingupnow" Rob Tish has coined the term "argument-ex-contradictio", describing the behaviour of making several mutually contradictory statements that are worded to sound superficially as if they support each other. He gives a good example in this blog-post: http://wakingupnow.com/blog/the-argument-ex-contradictio. They efficiency of the method would come from the fact that the opponents cannot really mount a counter-argument, since the original argument has no clear line to attack... each counter-argument would somehow seem to be already refudiated by one of the contradictory factoids presented in the original "argument".
I knew at once the sort of rhetoric he means, and I was wondering is there is already some term in use to describe this infuriating bahviour.
Martin
Dear Martin,
Rob's Latin leaves something to be desired, and I'm not sure that a string of self-contradictory ill-logic deserves any label but "mess." To rebut it, there certainly is a clear line of attack; just about any line, in fact. The commentator Rob refers to says this, for instance: "Uganda’s anti-gay bill formally extends the death penalty to homosexuals who commit pre-existing capital crimes." A simple rebuttal would ask, "How can the death penalty be 'extended' to a group already covered by it?"
But the commentator's technique, if there is any, lies not in any abuse of logic but in his refusal to engage at all. Rob's attempts to learn more about the issue led to his being de-friended on the commentator's Facebook page. And here's the rub: most political argument isn't about logic at all. It's about tribes. Get your own tribe more riled up than the enemy's tribe, and you'll win the battle.
The problem, in short, isn't logic at all. It's our increasingly tribal culture.
Fig.
August 4, 2010 |
Martin
Martin
Figaro,
In reviewing Aristotle's 28 Valid Topics, I notice these topics rely a lot on argumennts that apply logical fallacies. Am I to understand that argument is a kind of poker game where you mix true strong hands (valid and truthful arguments) with bluffing hands (arguments that apply logical fallacies to sound good) to win the pot (audience support of your position/decision)?
Al
Dear Al,
Excellent question. Aristotle's Topics are clearly made not just for the arguer but for the audience as well. Learn the manipulative techniques, and manipulation becomes less effective.
We make a mistake when we think of argument as little more than one-on-one matches. They rarely are. Your critical audience--the person or people actually open to persuasion--usually aren't your opponents. They're onlookers, blog readers, listeners. Besides, what's a "win"? Scoring on points? Or getting people to like and trust you?
Which leads to another mistake arguers often make: They fail to think of an ultimate goal. A happy marriage, for instance. Or friends who actually want to be with you. Or a citizenship that votes sensibly without the TV or their tribe telling them how to vote.
So the Topics teach the tools of logic. But Ethos--the audience's view of your character--can be more persuasive. Who said that? Aristotle himself.
Fig.
In reviewing Aristotle's 28 Valid Topics, I notice these topics rely a lot on argumennts that apply logical fallacies. Am I to understand that argument is a kind of poker game where you mix true strong hands (valid and truthful arguments) with bluffing hands (arguments that apply logical fallacies to sound good) to win the pot (audience support of your position/decision)?
Al
Dear Al,
Excellent question. Aristotle's Topics are clearly made not just for the arguer but for the audience as well. Learn the manipulative techniques, and manipulation becomes less effective.
We make a mistake when we think of argument as little more than one-on-one matches. They rarely are. Your critical audience--the person or people actually open to persuasion--usually aren't your opponents. They're onlookers, blog readers, listeners. Besides, what's a "win"? Scoring on points? Or getting people to like and trust you?
Which leads to another mistake arguers often make: They fail to think of an ultimate goal. A happy marriage, for instance. Or friends who actually want to be with you. Or a citizenship that votes sensibly without the TV or their tribe telling them how to vote.
So the Topics teach the tools of logic. But Ethos--the audience's view of your character--can be more persuasive. Who said that? Aristotle himself.
Fig.
July 30, 2010 |
Al
Al
Figaro,
Would you provide an example of the figure "prolepsis (pro-LEP-sis)" ? Thanks.
Al
Dear Al,
Sure. You'll find a great one in the movie "All Quiet on the Western Front," where a militaristic German schoolteacher tells a class of boys, "Perhaps some will say that you should not be allowed to go yet - that you have homes, mothers, fathers, that you should not be torn away by your fathers so forgetful of their fatherland...by your mothers so weak that they cannot send a son to defend the land which gave them birth."
The prolepsis, the anticipatory figure, anticipates objections to an argument. A great prolepsis couches that objection in a way that favors his own argument. Want more? Just Google "Some will say..."
Fig.
Would you provide an example of the figure "prolepsis (pro-LEP-sis)" ? Thanks.
Al
Dear Al,
Sure. You'll find a great one in the movie "All Quiet on the Western Front," where a militaristic German schoolteacher tells a class of boys, "Perhaps some will say that you should not be allowed to go yet - that you have homes, mothers, fathers, that you should not be torn away by your fathers so forgetful of their fatherland...by your mothers so weak that they cannot send a son to defend the land which gave them birth."
The prolepsis, the anticipatory figure, anticipates objections to an argument. A great prolepsis couches that objection in a way that favors his own argument. Want more? Just Google "Some will say..."
Fig.
July 30, 2010 |
Al
Al
Dear Figaro,
The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. I admit that I'm rhetorically challenged. As a student of the sciences, I was taught to back up my arguments with facts, which in the real world, is insufficient to drive decision making. Having lost so many arguments, I've become discouraged to the point of avoiding arguments almost obsessivley. Your book provides some great tools to release the rhetorical 'mute' button that was pushed so many years ago. I really want to put these suggestions into practice and hone my potential sweet rhetorical skillz. However, I would also like to stay on speaking terms with my friends, family and colleagues. Do you have any suggestions for how to work on overcoming my disability without aquiring the title of "jerk" amongst my loved ones? That is, assuming they don't already call me that behind my back ;-)
Thanks!
Dear Mary,
You obviously have sweet rhetorical skills already, as evidenced by your witty phrasing. Now work on your Ethos--your public image. Aristotle listed three aspects of a healthy ethos:
- Practical wisdom, or street smarts. You're a knowledgeable person who knows what to do on every occasion.
- Disinterest. You have your loved ones' interest at heart more than your own.
- "Virtue." You believe in the values your loved ones share. You're not a hypocrite.
Now ask yourself, which of these three attributes are you weakest in? Work to strengthen it. When people like and trust you, they listen. Ethos trumps logic in most cases.
Fig.
-Mary
The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. I admit that I'm rhetorically challenged. As a student of the sciences, I was taught to back up my arguments with facts, which in the real world, is insufficient to drive decision making. Having lost so many arguments, I've become discouraged to the point of avoiding arguments almost obsessivley. Your book provides some great tools to release the rhetorical 'mute' button that was pushed so many years ago. I really want to put these suggestions into practice and hone my potential sweet rhetorical skillz. However, I would also like to stay on speaking terms with my friends, family and colleagues. Do you have any suggestions for how to work on overcoming my disability without aquiring the title of "jerk" amongst my loved ones? That is, assuming they don't already call me that behind my back ;-)
Thanks!
Dear Mary,
You obviously have sweet rhetorical skills already, as evidenced by your witty phrasing. Now work on your Ethos--your public image. Aristotle listed three aspects of a healthy ethos:
- Practical wisdom, or street smarts. You're a knowledgeable person who knows what to do on every occasion.
- Disinterest. You have your loved ones' interest at heart more than your own.
- "Virtue." You believe in the values your loved ones share. You're not a hypocrite.
Now ask yourself, which of these three attributes are you weakest in? Work to strengthen it. When people like and trust you, they listen. Ethos trumps logic in most cases.
Fig.
-Mary
July 30, 2010 |
Mary
Mary
dear Figaro,
can you help me to give the figure of speech in song of love? Kahlil
Song of Love
by Kahlil Gibran
I am the lover's eyes, and the spirit's
Wine, and the heart's nourishment.
I am a rose. My heart opens at dawn and
The virgin kisses me and places me
Upon her breast....
Dear Kahlil,
Nice poem, dude! Sorry I had to excise the bulk of it for brevity. Two figures--tropes, actually--go into your verse. PROSOPOPOEIA speaks in the voice of someone else. And PERSONIFICATION, or anthropomorphism, makes human characters out of objects or, in this case, organs. Sort of like being the ball in Caddyshack.
Keep writing!
Fig.
can you help me to give the figure of speech in song of love? Kahlil
Song of Love
by Kahlil Gibran
I am the lover's eyes, and the spirit's
Wine, and the heart's nourishment.
I am a rose. My heart opens at dawn and
The virgin kisses me and places me
Upon her breast....
Dear Kahlil,
Nice poem, dude! Sorry I had to excise the bulk of it for brevity. Two figures--tropes, actually--go into your verse. PROSOPOPOEIA speaks in the voice of someone else. And PERSONIFICATION, or anthropomorphism, makes human characters out of objects or, in this case, organs. Sort of like being the ball in Caddyshack.
Keep writing!
Fig.
July 22, 2010 |
kahlil gibrans
kahlil gibrans
Dear Figaro,
“Ground Zero Mosque supporters, doesn’t it stab you in the heart as it does our throughout the heartland? Peaceful Muslims, please refudiate.”
Sarah Palin, July, 17, 2010.
What is she doing?
Yours,
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
She's stabbing English in the heart.
Fig.
“Ground Zero Mosque supporters, doesn’t it stab you in the heart as it does our throughout the heartland? Peaceful Muslims, please refudiate.”
Sarah Palin, July, 17, 2010.
What is she doing?
Yours,
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
She's stabbing English in the heart.
Fig.
July 19, 2010 |
Arie Vrolijk
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Figaro,
‘They could not have been spies. Look what she did with the hydrangeas.’
Jessie Gugig, a neighbour of a suburban couple “Cynthia and Richard Murphy” in Montclair, New Jersey, accused of being members of a Russian spy ring.
BBC News, 29 June 2010
What is Jessie doing? Figure, fallacy?
Yours,
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
She's being very funny--intentionally so, I suspect. It's easy to dismiss the quote as a fallacy--one I call the "bad proof" in my book. Instead, let's look at those hydrangeas as a METONYMY, a kind of miniaturization of the issue. The hydrangeas represent an ideal of suburban life. How could someone associated with the suburban ideal be a spy?
That's not a rhetorical question.
Fig.
‘They could not have been spies. Look what she did with the hydrangeas.’
Jessie Gugig, a neighbour of a suburban couple “Cynthia and Richard Murphy” in Montclair, New Jersey, accused of being members of a Russian spy ring.
BBC News, 29 June 2010
What is Jessie doing? Figure, fallacy?
Yours,
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
She's being very funny--intentionally so, I suspect. It's easy to dismiss the quote as a fallacy--one I call the "bad proof" in my book. Instead, let's look at those hydrangeas as a METONYMY, a kind of miniaturization of the issue. The hydrangeas represent an ideal of suburban life. How could someone associated with the suburban ideal be a spy?
That's not a rhetorical question.
Fig.
July 7, 2010 |
Arie Vrolijk
Arie Vrolijk
Figaro,
In chapter 12 in your book "Thank you for arguing", you start the chapter by talking about the overall strategy of "Stance". Given an argument you should choose in descending order one of the following to hold your rhethorical ground:
a. Facts (strongest)
b. Definitions
c. Quality
d. Relevance (weakest)
In your example of the case of the smuggled candy bar, I am not exactly clear on how redefining the issue of "hiding" the candy bar from a brother is different from arguing that "not having time to eat lunch". Aren't both just attempts of redefining why the child broke the rule of no candy bar in the room?
Would you provide another example that will illustrate the difference between the stance of Definition vs. Quality?
Al
Dear Al,
The difference between Definition and Quality is one of terminology (Definition) versus extenuating circumstances (Quality).
With Definition, you’re trying to change the terms to describe the crime. Yes, I’m responsible for the missing candy, but I didn’t steal it. I hid it from thieves. Quality, on the other hand, determines the degree of outrage. Yes, I did steal the candy, but I was fainting from hunger.
Suppose I took you to small claims court for destroying my mailbox. You admit to the Facts—you backed into my mailbox with your car. So you fall back on Redefining the issue. You say the mailbox wasn’t destroyed, exactly, just dinged up a little.
But after seeing a picture of the ruined mailbox, the judge agrees that “destroyed” is the right word. “You totally totaled it, Dude,” says the judge. (He’s very young.)
So you go for Quality—for extenuating circumstances. “The mailbox was hidden by the tall weeds the defendant has allowed to grow in his unkempt lawn,” you say, producing pictures of your own.
See the difference? In Definition, we’re talking about whether “destroyed” is the right verb to define what happened to my mailbox. In Quality, the argument isn’t over the degree of destruction but whether extenuating circumstances should get you off the hook, or at least with a reduced claim.
But, too bad for you, the judge says you should have been more careful, weeds or no weeds. So in desperation you fall back to the final trench, Relevance. “Your Honor, you have no jurisdiction in this case. A mailbox is federal property.”
Fig.
In chapter 12 in your book "Thank you for arguing", you start the chapter by talking about the overall strategy of "Stance". Given an argument you should choose in descending order one of the following to hold your rhethorical ground:
a. Facts (strongest)
b. Definitions
c. Quality
d. Relevance (weakest)
In your example of the case of the smuggled candy bar, I am not exactly clear on how redefining the issue of "hiding" the candy bar from a brother is different from arguing that "not having time to eat lunch". Aren't both just attempts of redefining why the child broke the rule of no candy bar in the room?
Would you provide another example that will illustrate the difference between the stance of Definition vs. Quality?
Al
Dear Al,
The difference between Definition and Quality is one of terminology (Definition) versus extenuating circumstances (Quality).
With Definition, you’re trying to change the terms to describe the crime. Yes, I’m responsible for the missing candy, but I didn’t steal it. I hid it from thieves. Quality, on the other hand, determines the degree of outrage. Yes, I did steal the candy, but I was fainting from hunger.
Suppose I took you to small claims court for destroying my mailbox. You admit to the Facts—you backed into my mailbox with your car. So you fall back on Redefining the issue. You say the mailbox wasn’t destroyed, exactly, just dinged up a little.
But after seeing a picture of the ruined mailbox, the judge agrees that “destroyed” is the right word. “You totally totaled it, Dude,” says the judge. (He’s very young.)
So you go for Quality—for extenuating circumstances. “The mailbox was hidden by the tall weeds the defendant has allowed to grow in his unkempt lawn,” you say, producing pictures of your own.
See the difference? In Definition, we’re talking about whether “destroyed” is the right verb to define what happened to my mailbox. In Quality, the argument isn’t over the degree of destruction but whether extenuating circumstances should get you off the hook, or at least with a reduced claim.
But, too bad for you, the judge says you should have been more careful, weeds or no weeds. So in desperation you fall back to the final trench, Relevance. “Your Honor, you have no jurisdiction in this case. A mailbox is federal property.”
Fig.
July 4, 2010 |
Al
Al
Dear Figaro,
Exchange between two Russian spies at a Brooklyn street corner :
“Excuse me, did we meet in Bangkok in April last year?”
Reply : “I don’t know about April, but I was in Thailand in May of that year.”
FBI: The ‘Illegals’ program
Figaro, is this a figure?
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
Assuming that Boris and Natasha were speaking in code, their words constitute the TROPE of IRONY. A trope is any non-literal language--words such as metaphor that aren't literally true but aren't lies, either. The trope of irony conveys two meanings--the literal one and a hidden one. It can serve as a code language to make us feel like insiders. Or as genuine code for Russian spies.
The fact that some of the spies lived in the Jersey suburbs probably makes for another irony. But Figaro isn't privy to its meaning.
Fig.
Exchange between two Russian spies at a Brooklyn street corner :
“Excuse me, did we meet in Bangkok in April last year?”
Reply : “I don’t know about April, but I was in Thailand in May of that year.”
FBI: The ‘Illegals’ program
Figaro, is this a figure?
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
Assuming that Boris and Natasha were speaking in code, their words constitute the TROPE of IRONY. A trope is any non-literal language--words such as metaphor that aren't literally true but aren't lies, either. The trope of irony conveys two meanings--the literal one and a hidden one. It can serve as a code language to make us feel like insiders. Or as genuine code for Russian spies.
The fact that some of the spies lived in the Jersey suburbs probably makes for another irony. But Figaro isn't privy to its meaning.
Fig.
July 2, 2010 |
Arie Vrolijk
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Figaro,
What is the figure of speech of " I can count all my bones' in Psalm 22?
Sue
Dear Sue,
The figure is the LAMENT (lamentatio), an appeal to pity. The classical lament contains four parts: complaint, plea for help, expression of faith, and praise (or promise of praise) to God. (Google "Lamentations of the Father" by Ian Frasier for a hilarious modern version of the figure.)
This particular lament has special meaning for Christians, because it foreshadows the crucifixion of Jesus. The lamenter has been starved, stripped of his clothing and stabbed; he's apparently stretched out, as if on a cross.
As with much of the Bible, the translations come up with strikingly different versions of this line: "I may tell all my bones" (King James), "I may number all my bones" (Douay-Rheims). But they all have essentially the same meaning: the speaker can look down and see the bones jutting from his skin. Is this itself a figure? In a way, you could say it's a form of SYNECDOCHE, a trope that makes a part of something represent the whole. But Figaro prefers to think of the passage as the kind of detail-focused storytelling he loves best.
Fig.
What is the figure of speech of " I can count all my bones' in Psalm 22?
Sue
Dear Sue,
The figure is the LAMENT (lamentatio), an appeal to pity. The classical lament contains four parts: complaint, plea for help, expression of faith, and praise (or promise of praise) to God. (Google "Lamentations of the Father" by Ian Frasier for a hilarious modern version of the figure.)
This particular lament has special meaning for Christians, because it foreshadows the crucifixion of Jesus. The lamenter has been starved, stripped of his clothing and stabbed; he's apparently stretched out, as if on a cross.
As with much of the Bible, the translations come up with strikingly different versions of this line: "I may tell all my bones" (King James), "I may number all my bones" (Douay-Rheims). But they all have essentially the same meaning: the speaker can look down and see the bones jutting from his skin. Is this itself a figure? In a way, you could say it's a form of SYNECDOCHE, a trope that makes a part of something represent the whole. But Figaro prefers to think of the passage as the kind of detail-focused storytelling he loves best.
Fig.
June 28, 2010 |
Sue
Sue
Dear Figaro.
Not NASA, but BP needs your help.
BP Chief Executive Tony Hayward: "We will absolutely be paying for the cleanup operation. There is no doubt about that. It’s our responsibility — we accept it fully. BP will honour all legitimate claims for business interruption."
Pressed for examples of illegitimate claims, he said:
"I could give you lots of examples. This is America — come on. We’re going to have lots of illegitimate claims. We all know that."
What is Mr Hayward doing?
Yours,
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
NASA is more fun to work with than I imagine BP would be, though I wouldn't turn the job down.
If I HAD been Mr. Hayward's rhetorician, I would have encouraged him to use that very phrase to "honor all legitimate claims." But rhetoric prepares us also for the inevitable follow-up questions: (1) Define "legitimate." (2) Give an example of an "illegitimate" claim.
A truthful answer to No. 1 would be, "Anything my lawyers say is legitimate." But a proper rhetorical answer would be, "You know as well as I that there are sharks out there, legal sharks, who rush in at the smell of blood. We'll honor all legitimate claims."
As for the question Hayward so clumsily answered, I would have supplied a response in advance that would avoid insulting America:
"Someone in Brooklyn claiming mental anguish because they can't decide where to book their honeymoon. We would probably deny that claim but urge them to come on down. Most of the beaches here are beautiful. And we'll work like heck to clean up the rest."
Not NASA, but BP needs your help.
BP Chief Executive Tony Hayward: "We will absolutely be paying for the cleanup operation. There is no doubt about that. It’s our responsibility — we accept it fully. BP will honour all legitimate claims for business interruption."
Pressed for examples of illegitimate claims, he said:
"I could give you lots of examples. This is America — come on. We’re going to have lots of illegitimate claims. We all know that."
What is Mr Hayward doing?
Yours,
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
NASA is more fun to work with than I imagine BP would be, though I wouldn't turn the job down.
If I HAD been Mr. Hayward's rhetorician, I would have encouraged him to use that very phrase to "honor all legitimate claims." But rhetoric prepares us also for the inevitable follow-up questions: (1) Define "legitimate." (2) Give an example of an "illegitimate" claim.
A truthful answer to No. 1 would be, "Anything my lawyers say is legitimate." But a proper rhetorical answer would be, "You know as well as I that there are sharks out there, legal sharks, who rush in at the smell of blood. We'll honor all legitimate claims."
As for the question Hayward so clumsily answered, I would have supplied a response in advance that would avoid insulting America:
"Someone in Brooklyn claiming mental anguish because they can't decide where to book their honeymoon. We would probably deny that claim but urge them to come on down. Most of the beaches here are beautiful. And we'll work like heck to clean up the rest."
June 20, 2010 |
Arie Vrolijk
Arie Vrolijk
Dear Figaro,
Aside from being appallingly classist and culturally inept, is BP's chairman remark on how much BP loves the "small people" of the gulf coast a figure of speech?
Thanks,
Kaine
Dear Kaine,
Chairman Carl-Henric Svanberg, a Swede, clearly meant "the little guy" when he said "the small people." The mistake is a soraismus (so-ray-IS-mus), a clumsy mix of languages. That's Greek for "loading up."
The incident reminds us of the time many years ago when famous Italian journalist Oriana Fallaci interviewed Henry Kissinger for an Italian magazine. Kissinger described himself to the seductive reporter as a lone cowboy "leading the caravan" and entering the "village" alone. The American press gave him a lot of well-deserved grief for that interview. But he probably actually said "wagon train" to Fallaci (carrozza in Italian) as well as "town" (villago).
Svanberg's gaffe simply eliminated the incompetent translator middle man.
It is unfair to attack Svanberg for his gaffe? Figaro says no. The quote stands for BP's reckless arrogance. And a corporate chairman should be sophisticated enough to earn his not-so-small salary. We say, ridicule away.
Fig.
Aside from being appallingly classist and culturally inept, is BP's chairman remark on how much BP loves the "small people" of the gulf coast a figure of speech?
Thanks,
Kaine
Dear Kaine,
Chairman Carl-Henric Svanberg, a Swede, clearly meant "the little guy" when he said "the small people." The mistake is a soraismus (so-ray-IS-mus), a clumsy mix of languages. That's Greek for "loading up."
The incident reminds us of the time many years ago when famous Italian journalist Oriana Fallaci interviewed Henry Kissinger for an Italian magazine. Kissinger described himself to the seductive reporter as a lone cowboy "leading the caravan" and entering the "village" alone. The American press gave him a lot of well-deserved grief for that interview. But he probably actually said "wagon train" to Fallaci (carrozza in Italian) as well as "town" (villago).
Svanberg's gaffe simply eliminated the incompetent translator middle man.
It is unfair to attack Svanberg for his gaffe? Figaro says no. The quote stands for BP's reckless arrogance. And a corporate chairman should be sophisticated enough to earn his not-so-small salary. We say, ridicule away.
Fig.
June 18, 2010 |
Kaine Fini
Kaine Fini
Figaro-
Is name dropping and association as a means to boost one's ethos a sound practice? I'm guessing it would fit in with virtue (one of Aristotle's three essential qualities of a persuasive ethos as described in your book). If so, do you recommend any specific tactics and situations in which to apply it? Scenarios in which to avoid it?
Thanks
John
Dear John,
Aristotle would say yes, but. There are several ways to bring "witnesses," as the A-man called them, to your rhetoric.
1) Name-drop. Definitely the crudest method. When you name-drop, try to quote the person talking about you. ("Well, I can't speak to that, but Susan says I'm a great lover.") Book publicists call this "blurbing."
2) Bring the name-dropped person with you. Bar-hoppers call this "having a wing man."
3) Quote an authority and say you're trying to follow the person's example. Sages call this "the voice of God."
Fig.
Is name dropping and association as a means to boost one's ethos a sound practice? I'm guessing it would fit in with virtue (one of Aristotle's three essential qualities of a persuasive ethos as described in your book). If so, do you recommend any specific tactics and situations in which to apply it? Scenarios in which to avoid it?
Thanks
John
Dear John,
Aristotle would say yes, but. There are several ways to bring "witnesses," as the A-man called them, to your rhetoric.
1) Name-drop. Definitely the crudest method. When you name-drop, try to quote the person talking about you. ("Well, I can't speak to that, but Susan says I'm a great lover.") Book publicists call this "blurbing."
2) Bring the name-dropped person with you. Bar-hoppers call this "having a wing man."
3) Quote an authority and say you're trying to follow the person's example. Sages call this "the voice of God."
Fig.
June 17, 2010 |
John
John
Dear Jay,
The book was interesting and helpful. Perhaps you would reconsider about what religion Aristole would be if he lived today. (p. 177) I also recently read Jennifer Michael Hecht's "Doubt: A History" and I don't think Aristotle would be Presbyterian or Episcopalian. He was far too smart to buy Christian math (3 = 1). I think with today's science he'd be an atheist and not think it at all extreme.
Ruth
Dear Ruth,
The passage in "Thank You for Arguing" speculates (facetiously) that Aristotle, a man who hated extremes, would be an Episcopalian or a Presbyterian today. Whether a modern Aristotle would be an atheist depends on whether all religion is tribal, rooted in the human desire to belong to a group. For what it's worth some of the atheists I know are extremely tribal. They seem to have great faith in their non-belief.
Aristotle was the ultimate cosmopolitan, a citizen of the world. He wouldn't belong to a tribe for the sake of belonging. That's one sure thing we can say about his "religion." Other than that, I suppose we're silly to speculate.
Jay
The book was interesting and helpful. Perhaps you would reconsider about what religion Aristole would be if he lived today. (p. 177) I also recently read Jennifer Michael Hecht's "Doubt: A History" and I don't think Aristotle would be Presbyterian or Episcopalian. He was far too smart to buy Christian math (3 = 1). I think with today's science he'd be an atheist and not think it at all extreme.
Ruth
Dear Ruth,
The passage in "Thank You for Arguing" speculates (facetiously) that Aristotle, a man who hated extremes, would be an Episcopalian or a Presbyterian today. Whether a modern Aristotle would be an atheist depends on whether all religion is tribal, rooted in the human desire to belong to a group. For what it's worth some of the atheists I know are extremely tribal. They seem to have great faith in their non-belief.
Aristotle was the ultimate cosmopolitan, a citizen of the world. He wouldn't belong to a tribe for the sake of belonging. That's one sure thing we can say about his "religion." Other than that, I suppose we're silly to speculate.
Jay
June 15, 2010 |
Ruth Walker
Ruth Walker
Dear Figaro,
In an interview with the Guardian at BP's crisis centre in Houston, Tony Hayward CEO of BP insisted that the leaked oil and the estimated 400,000 gallons of dispersant that BP has pumped into the sea to try to tackle the slick should be put in context:
"The Gulf of Mexico is a very big ocean. The amount of volume of oil and dispersant we are putting into it is tiny in relation to the total water volume,"
Tony Hayward.
The Guardian, Friday 14 May 2010
What kind of figure is this?
Yours, Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
The hapless Mr. Hayward is making a clumsy attempt at FRAMING THE ISSUE, one key element of which is to broaden it. Set the issue in context; big ocean, itty-bitty spill. His PR people should have told him that those words would get played over and over against video showing oil-slicked pelicans and out-of-work fishermen. A word to the corporate wise: remember the visuals.
Fig.
In an interview with the Guardian at BP's crisis centre in Houston, Tony Hayward CEO of BP insisted that the leaked oil and the estimated 400,000 gallons of dispersant that BP has pumped into the sea to try to tackle the slick should be put in context:
"The Gulf of Mexico is a very big ocean. The amount of volume of oil and dispersant we are putting into it is tiny in relation to the total water volume,"
Tony Hayward.
The Guardian, Friday 14 May 2010
What kind of figure is this?
Yours, Arie Vrolijk
Dear Arie,
The hapless Mr. Hayward is making a clumsy attempt at FRAMING THE ISSUE, one key element of which is to broaden it. Set the issue in context; big ocean, itty-bitty spill. His PR people should have told him that those words would get played over and over against video showing oil-slicked pelicans and out-of-work fishermen. A word to the corporate wise: remember the visuals.
Fig.
June 4, 2010 |
Arie Vrolijk
Arie Vrolijk
Just finished the book (love it!). In the last chapter, you talk about us moving towards a more rhetorical society (yay!). It's been a while since the book came out and I'm curious if you still think that we're moving in that direction? And if so, perhaps throw out a few feel-good examples?
thanks!
-Mary