Once More Into the Breach

I was fascinated by the ending of this week's reading in Quintillian and Tacitus.

First, Quintillian and the Orator Perfectus. Quintillian demands a philosopher/rhetor, combining the two within his definition of orator, or a good man speaking well. He refuses the title to anyone who is dishonest, or otherwise immoral, seeming to rely on the reader's judgment that by definition such a person could not speak well. What seemed a ridiculously vague and naive definition, then becomes clearly an ideal, and a moral stance. And, frankly, makes a lot more sense than it did when I first encountered the idea out of context. For Quintillian, the orators of the current day have ceded much of their work to the philosophers, becoming content with the study of specific techniques of public speaking. As Phlodemu's critique of rhetoric makes clear (and as Quintillian is also at pains to clarify) the study of speech making alone does not produce the "good man speaking well," the statesmen etc. that is the professed goal of rhetorical training. In fact the training in eloquence (what many of the other writers seem to see as the whole or at least the primary focus of rhetoric) is a garnish on a person of immense education and training. One who is, in fact a philosopher. Interestingly, in Quinitillian's De Institutione Oratoria the philosopher seems to be an orator who quit just short of the top, where he/she might have gained the skill to make their knowledge of the truth of some practical value to themselves and the community of which they are a part. In other words, the true orator is both philosopher and rhetor, and, therefore by definition a good man speaking well. Notice which part comes first, as Quintillian emphasized. By implication then, the philosopher alone is a lazy, selfish person, one quite well educated and capable putting his/her gifts to good use but refusing to do so in any practical fashion. The accusation seems to be of a willful naivetee as to the philosopher's role in the community/state. The rhetor on the other hand fails in an even more basic manner, he/she has not done everything required to meet Quintillian's greater foundation, "the good man."

On a completely different tack, the account of Tacitus in the Dialogue on Orators is of great interest. He traces the need for great orators to the unsettled state of affairs in the government. He points to times of democracy (or at least some semblance of democracy or representative government) in the Greek city states and the old Roman republic as the times when rhetoric was most needed and at its most powerful. He attributes the fall in the power and glory of rhetoric to the stable government, even to the citizens' willingness to obey their rulers. The final section which delineates the lack of necessity for rhetoric in the peaceful days of the empire are almost frightening. They could equally be interpreted as the lowering of people's freedoms, and a corresponding lack of action in deliberative bodies, bereft of any power by all-powerful rulers. Rhetoric fades as the power of the individual to effect change through the convincing of others fades could be an equally powerful statement drawn from this text, but Tacitus prefers to see the blessings of stability. Certainly stable government is a blessing, and the peace that Rome enjoyed for long periods, must also have been deemed a blessing to its citizens. However, I am powerfully reminded that the pax romana was largely the result of the absolute destruction of any people or civilization with the potential to threaten or even vaguely annoy Rome. I will take troubled times and great orators over a peace consisting of the destruction of everyone but us any day.