[ back ] 1. Alternatively, with ἔστι as ‘it is possible’ governing the complementary εἶναι (Bonitz 1870:220 col. 2 lines 6–8) and τό not as the article of the infinitival clause τὸ ὑποκριτικὸν εἶναι but, more narrowly, as forming the abstract τὸ ὑποκριτικόν (cf., for example, Poetics 1453b1–2): ‘and it is possible for the ability to perform to be a natural talent and [as such], less technical, but in connection with lexis [it is possible for it to be] technical’. With the grammar thus construed φύσεως is coordinated with ἀτεχνότερον (φύσεως … καὶ ἀτεχνότερον) and one should not print a comma before the conjunction καί. I actually prefer this translation, which provides a more compelling fit for the context and more naturally accounts for the infinitive εἶναι: if Aristotle had merely intended to say that ‘a capacity for acting is natural’, why not simply write καὶ ἔστι φύσεως τὸ ὑποκριτικόν? At any rate, since I do not want to give the impression that the validity of my argument depends on my preferred translation, I have followed the more common ‘and for someone to be hypokritikos is of nature’.

[ back ] 2. Although not office holders per se, Athenian ῥήτορες were readily identified in the fourth century BC as a well-defined group with an important institutional role. To use a familiar label (with the proper adjustments; cf. Hansen 1983a), they were ‘politicians’ who consistently engaged the democratic process as public speakers. Hence one may fairly call their rhetorical activities ‘professional,’ whether they owed their oratorical skills to technical training or to untrained talent. Rhetoric Ⅱ.11 1388b15–18 conveniently offers Aristotle’s own estimate of ῥήτορες: ‘Those are emulated who possess these and similar things. And these things are the ones [already] mentioned, viz. courage, wisdom, and office (ἀρχή; cf. 1388b5); for rulers (ἄρχοντες) can do good to many, [I mean] generals, rhētores, and all those who can do such things’. For ῥήτορες as ‘politicians’ and hence ‘professional’ public speakers, see Perlman 1963:354–355, Hansen 1981 esp. 368–370, Hansen 1983a esp. 46–48, Hansen 1983b, Hansen 1987, Ober 1989:104–127, Schiappa 1999:68, and Worthington 2007. Epigraphically, ῥήτωρ is first attested in IG I³ 46a.25, dated by the editors to ca. 445 BC (cf. Meiggs and Lewis 1969:128–133 no. 49).

[ back ] 3. This translation draws on my analysis above (see in particular §13.3) and immediately below. To interpret this difficult passage correctly one must observe the following guidelines. Aristotle is primarily concerned here with exploring the technical side of the capacity for delivery (this follows from correctly identifying the referent of ἐκείνη). Therefore, in ‘διὸ καὶ … πάλιν … , καθάπερ … ’, structured as ‘therefore also A in turn, just as B’, a comparison that explains A in terms of a better known B—such is the logic of comparisons (cf. K-G Ⅱ.2.490 §579)—one would expect A to regard technical delivery (the new consideration thitherto only to a small extent the subject of scholarly reflection) and B, non-technical talent (the obvious, broadly accepted fact). That B refers to a non-technical talent for delivery as the better known member of the comparison (and hence the one following καθάπερ) should not be controversial: whatever competitions (formal or informal) Aristotle has in mind when he mentions ἆθλα, it should be obvious that by and large no technical training in delivery would have assisted the majority of the competitors. Otherwise, Aristotle could not claim that delivery had only received limited and trifling technical attention before him. This means that the ῥήτορες who are defined as κατὰ ὑπόκρισιν must be professional speakers who have become such in consequence of their natural talent. This interpretive approach is supported by the use of τοῦτο, which more plausibly refers to the closer clause, περὶ δὲ τὴν λέξιν ἔντεχνον, than to the more distant, ἔστι φύσεως τὸ ὑποκριτικὸν εἶναι, καὶ ἀτεχνότερον. Aristotle could have made the opposite choice clear with the demonstrative ἐκεῖνο. A final consideration: the γάρ sentence that closes the quotation most naturally applies to the comparison as a whole (‘therefore also A in turn, just as B’) rather than to its καθάπερ clause alone. οἱ γραφόμενοι λόγοι, entailing as it does the technical notion of lexis, cannot plausibly apply to a natural talent for delivery; hence, if one takes the statement in its most natural sense, i.e. as explaining the comparison as a whole and, by implication, the explicandum διὸ καὶ τοῖς τοῦτο δυναμένοις γίγνεται πάλιν ἆθλα, the γάρ clause further supports the view that τοῦτο points to τὸ ἔντεχνον ὑποκριτικόν (=τὸ περὶ τὴν λέξιν ὑποκριτικόν or ἡ περὶ τὴν λέξιν ὑπόκρισις), and not to the ἡ ἄτεχνος ὑπόκρισις regarded in οἱ κατὰ τὴν [ἄτεχνον] ὑπόκρισιν ῥήτορες.

[ back ] 4. See also above, §13.3. Another option, but less likely, is τέχνη, which appears at 1403b35 in the sense of ‘treatise’ (note the σύγκειται). But here it would not be acceptable in that sense, for ἐκείνη is picked up by περὶ αὐτῆς, and ἐγκεχειρήκασι δὲ ἐπ’ ὀλίγον περὶ αὐτῆς εἰπεῖν τινες clearly calls for a subject, not a treatise. τέχνη would be possible, however, in the sense of ‘art’ or ‘principles that guide a professional practice’, which by itself would fail to resolve whether λέξις or ὑπόκρισις or, as I argue, a combination of both is in view.

[ back ] 5. On αὕτη versus αὐτή see above, §13.2 n. 19.

[ back ] 6. The syntactic agreement by itself would not be decisive, as a superficial substitution of ὑπόκρισις by τοῦτο, without any change of the notional subject—a common occurrence—might be in view. But τὸ μὲν οὖν τῆς λέξεως is clearly intended to summarize and drive home the implications of the preceding passage, i.e. 1403b36–1404a8, and this suffices to show that the broader τὸ περὶ τὴν λέξιν, a topic neither limited to nor exclusive of ὑπόκρισις, is its subject matter.

[ back ] 7. τραγική, as its coordination with ῥαψῳδία shows, does not in the first instance refer to tragica ars but to actio tragoediarum. Nevertheless, 1403b24–26 assumes a natural connection between dramatic ὑπόκρισις and tragic ποιητική, and from it infers that a similar relation obtains for ἡ ῥητορική. The parallel might be closely drawn: so long as oratory remained chiefly the province of untrained, well-endowed public speakers, little explicit attention was paid to delivery; once numerous citizens of middling talent had need of it and, on this account, sought some form of training, rhetorical instruction began to focus on the rules that made for successful delivery.

[ back ] 8. ‘When delivery comes to rhetoric’ would mean ‘when the study of delivery comes into vogue’ and orators apply their technical knowledge of it regularly and effectively.

[ back ] 9. There is no difficulty, of course, in having a feminine demonstrative for what has been spoken of thus far periphrastically in the neuter as τὸ περὶ τὴν λέξιν or τὸ τῆς λέξεως, for the notional subject matter all along is the feminine λέξις. Cf. the use of feminine adjectives at 1403b29–30, notionally in agreement with φωνή, even though the preceding clause speaks of τοῖς τόνοις. Or the use of αὕτη for ὑπόκρισις at 1403b27, which until then has been referred to by a neuter plural (τὰ περὶ τὴν ὑπόκρισιν 1403b22) or the neuter singular (τὸ τοιοῦτον … · ὅπερ 1403b25–26). One might also wonder why ἐκείνη is preferred to αὕτη. The reason is not, as one might think, to direct the reader’s attention away from λέξις to the further removed ὑπόκρισις; the distance felt is rather that between the demonstrative and λέξις, which appears four lines earlier and is separated from ἐκείνη by an explanation, a qualification (with the feminine φαντασία), and an example, none of which contains or refers to ‘style’ at the syntactic level.

[ back ] 10. On the use of ‘rhetorical’ to qualify ‘style’, see immediately below, §14.1.

[ back ] 11. Rapp 2002:2.817–818 writes: “Tatsächlich werden im vorliegenden Abschnitt die Belange der sprachlichen Form (λέξις) mit denen des mündlichen (und vom Schauspieler verlangten) Vortrags verglichen. Daher liegt nichts näher, als unter ‘ὑπόκρισις’ dieselbe Kunst oder Fähigkeit zu verstehen, die schon in 1403b22 damit bezeichnet wurde, und ‘jene’ auf die sprachliche Form (λέξις) zu beziehen; letzteres ist schon deswegen angeraten, weil bereits im vorausgegangenen Abschnitt 1404a8–12 von der Beachtung der sprachlichen Form und nicht von der Vortragskunst die Rede war.” Although I cannot agree with him that τῇ ὑποκριτικῇ in 1404a13 (which Rapp rewords as ‘ὑπόκρισις’) regards oratorical delivery, he is doubtless right to observe that the context points to lexis as the referent of ἐκείνη.

[ back ] 12. Schloemann 2000: “Hier ist der Begriff [sc. ὑπόκρισις] eng mit dem der λέξις verbunden und hat eine viel stärkere ‘technische’ Konnotation: er ist auf künstlerische Gestaltung bezogen” (211).

[ back ] 13. The ‘coming of ἐκείνη’ would then signal the arrival of ‘scientific delivery,’ whether we designate it by ‘delivery connected with style’ or ‘style with a view to (or according to) delivery’. For overviews of rhetorical actio see Wöhrle 1990 and Steinbrink 1992.

[ back ] 14. This interpretation is further supported by the lines that follow (1404a18–26), for once again style and delivery are mentioned in close succession. At 1404a18–19 written speeches are said to owe their effect more to style (λέξις) than to argument (διάνοια); after which Aristotle immediately launches into a historical survey in which the mimetic quality of φωνή plays a fundamental role and is credited with the origin of the arts of rhapsodic performance, acting (ὑποκριτική), and others—only to return immediately thereafter once more to poets as pioneers of λέξις.

[ back ] 15. For a study of the intersection of rhetoric and poetics in Aristotle’s treatment of λέξις, see Ricoeur 1996. There, I find much I would qualify or disagree with, but I subscribe in substance the central insight that the Poetics and the Rhetoric structure the field of style in ways that are distinctive and reflect their various aims. Thus, for example, observing that in the former Aristotle rejects the analysis of λέξις under “modes of speech” (i.e. illocutionary forms of speech), he writes: “Hardly has this line of analysis been alluded to when it is interrupted by the remark: ‘Let us pass over this, then, as appertaining to another art …’ (1456b19). This other ‘art’ can only be rhetoric” (328). Ricoeur thinks that Aristotle applies himself to “clos[ing] the gap, if not fill[ing] a void” between the theory of λέξις in poetry and a “truly rhetorical theory of lexis” (343). I must, however, part company with him when, following the consensus view, he asserts that, as a how, ὑπόκρισις is further removed than λέξις from the what of a speech (343): perhaps so from our perspective, but only true of Aristotle in a limited sense, for ultimately the entire art of rhetoric is oriented towards effective and successful delivery. Valid logical distinctions cannot obscure necessary practical connections; yes, “it is through our lexis that we teach” (344), but in fifth- and fourth-century Greece it is preeminently in oral delivery that the act of teaching takes place. For this reason I reject his interpretation of, and rationale for, Rhetoric 1404a18–19: “To the degree that style is the external manifestation of discourse, it tends to separate the concern to ‘please’ from that of ‘arguing.’ It is doubtless because writing constitutes a second degree of exteriorization that the separation is particularly dangerous in this case” (344).

[ back ] 16. Cf. similar pronouncements regarding metaphors in Poetics 1459a6–7 and Rhetoric 1405a9–10 (with the note in Cope 1877:21–22 ad loc.); and yet no one would deny that much effort is expended in teaching their proper use in accordance with the principle that art improves nature. Cf. Newman 1998:76n20, Newman 2005:46n20, and Burkett 2011:91–92.

[ back ] 17. Namely, Roberts (in Ross 1924), Jebb (in Sandys 1909), and Rapp 2002. On the other side of the divide we find the old Latin translation (apud Spengel 1867), Cope 1877, Freese 1926, Tovar 1953, Dufour and Wartelle 1973, and Kennedy 1991 (cf. Arnhart 1981:165).

[ back ] 18. Or τὸ δὲ περὶ τὴν λέξιν ἔντεχνον, which is nowhere attested. And while one might wonder whether τό may have fallen out, the placement of δέ, between περί and τήν, rules this out (cf., for example, Aristotle De generatione animalium 715a14 and Historia animalium 491b21, 493a28, 511a27, 597a32; there are no instances of τὸ περὶ δέ). In point of fact, neither does the context recommend adding it, for the text makes good sense as is.

[ back ] 19. See above, §14.1 n. 3. Interpreters have failed to grasp the distinction Aristotle is drawing here. Had he merely wanted to say “just as [prizes go] to orators on the basis of their delivery” (Kennedy’s translation, which is representative of the rest), he would have written instead καθάπερ καὶ τοῖς ῥήτορσιν κατὰ τὴν ὑπόκρισιν. In the attributive position κατὰ τὴν ὑπόκρισιν defines these orators (it could be otherwise had Aristotle used a participle, e.g. λέγουσιν, which the prepositional clause could then modify adverbially); and if Aristotle meant to ascribe to them superior delivery, adding this qualifier was a very odd way indeed of doing so. In fact, it is hard to see how κατά by itself could bear this meaning, while the slightly modified τοῖς κατὰ τὴν ὑπόκρισιν διαφέρουσιν ῥήτορσιν would have made this plain. Once we accept the implications of the syntax and reflect on the context, it becomes clear that in this expression ὑπόκρισις must stand for τὸ ὑποκριτικόν as the natural talent that is ἄτεχνον and bears no relation to λέξις.

[ back ] 20. Fortenbaugh (1985:287n29) interprets the contrast incorrectly. He is right, I think, to reject the translation in Sonkowsky (1959:261) that opposes “actors with histrionic ability” to “orators who excel in delivery” (this would invert the terms of the comparison, which should rather have had the καθάπερ go not with ῥήτορες but with οἱ τοῦτο δυνάμενοι, i.e. the alleged actors); but thinking that this chapter is an introduction to style, which he divorces from delivery, he concludes that the philosopher is only trying to show that “style, too, conveys power and produces prizes.” On this reading, the γάρ sentence that follows would make the point by noting that written texts owe their power more to style than to thought (for my own notions about this, see below, §14.2). This interpretation would be allowable if Aristotle had written ἡ δὲ λέξις ἔντεχνος at 1404a16; as it stands, the text will not permit τοῦτο to refer to style and will therefore not support an alleged literary view of style as embodied by written compositions. Fortenbaugh is otherwise correct in contrasting τὸ [φύσει] ὑποκριτικόν, ‘a natural gift for delivery’ (“orators gifted in delivery”) with ‘style’—not just any concept of style, but ἡ κατὰ λέξιν ὑπόκρισις, the choice that Cope rewords “ὑποκριτικὴ κατὰ λέξιν” and Fortenbaugh dismisses as “second best but … at least consistent with Aristotle’s focus on style.” Why it is “second best” remains unexplained.

[ back ] 21. The expression recalls Rhetoric 1408b21 and b28–29, where it is used specifically of rhythm. Though in the Rhetoric its semantic range is much narrower than the one we encounter in the Poetics, both occurrences share the performative emphasis.

[ back ] 22. Poetics 1456b10–11. Presumably the ‘architect’ of acting displays a technical knowledge of his field (rationale, principles, and application), as opposed to actors who, having learned their trade by trial and error, might rely for their guidance on experience. This probably relates to the observation at Rhetoric 1403b22–24.

[ back ] 23. οἷον τί ἐντολὴ καὶ τί εὐχὴ καὶ διήγησις καὶ ἀπειλὴ καὶ ἐρώτησις καὶ ἀπόκρισις καὶ εἴ τι ἄλλο τοιοῦτον (1456b11–13). Cf. 1457a21–22.

[ back ] 24. This is not do deny Twining’s obvious comment that “[of] Homer’s pronunciation or action … Protagoras knew nothing” (1812:2.251, his emphasis). All that is implied in the sophist’s censure is an incorrect use of the imperative, of which there is an echo in the scholia of the Venetus A ad loc. (Erbse 1969–1988:1.5.41–42 §d): ὅτι κατὰ τὴν ποιητικὴν ἤτοι ἄδειαν ἢ συνήθειαν λαμβάνει τὰ προστακτικὰ ἀντὶ εὐκτικῶν. It is wrong, however, to interpret these performative settings strictly as σχήματα διανοίας (e.g. in Quintilian Institutio oratoria 6.3.70) and suppress in turn the ‘manner of expression’ (but cf. Twining 1812:2.253). Note Lucas’s humane observation: “The point raised here probably arose from [Protagoras’] perception that what we call the imperative mood was associated with the tone of command … . Those who discover new principles often try to apply them too rigidly” (Lucas 1968:198). On the notion and history of σχήματα διανοίας see Lausberg 1998:271–273 §§600–603, 335–410 §§755–910.

[ back ] 25. Paradoxically, what makes such distance possible is Aristotle’s belief in the inherent expressive power of διάνοια, i.e. of the argument articulated by λέξις/λόγος (1456a36–37; cf. 1462a11–13) that allows a reader to recreate the effect of performance (or at least to ‘replay’ the events of the plot, 1453b1–6) in his mind’s eye. Note that the philosopher readily makes even the articulation of emotions the purview of λόγος (1456b5–8; see immediately below for an important qualification), although whatever de-emphasis on delivery this entails is partially counterbalanced by his pairing ἀνάγνωσις and τὰ ἔργα at 1462a17–18 (I adopt Madius’s preferred reading over against the vulgate ἀναγνωρίσει: “ideo legendum est ἀναγνώσει, ut codices aliqui calamo exarati Venetiis habent” [Madius and Lombardus 1550:297]). To be sure, the distance between λόγος in performance and διάνοια as the verbal expression of the argument of a play abstracted from actio (including pronuntiatio and rhetorical elocutio) only makes sense where the text under discussion is notionally, if not actually, independent of the performer, i.e. viewed as a script that can be interpreted with a varying degree of competence. Then one may rightly question how successfully the performer has brought out the expressive potential of the text or acted out what its author intended. This argues for a significant degree of fixation already by Aristotle’s time of a standard Athenian version of the Iliad, though it need not rule out a comparatively small degree of mouvance. For one, the philosopher’s focus is not on epic but on drama, whose authorship and textual status are far more straightforward than those of the Homeric poems; and yet we know that even the text of Athenian tragedies experienced so-called ‘textual interpolations,’ which, some scholars will admit, are of histrionic origin (cf., for example, Page 1934; see also above, §13.5 n. 42). Moreover, the example selected by Aristotle, Iliad 1.1, is likely to have been among the earliest passages to attain fixity; the rhapsode’s irrelevance (narrowly conceived) to the textual status of this line (in a poem, besides, that is notionally fixed and uniformly ascribed to the man ‘Homer’), is thus, on the point of analogy, a good parallel to the corresponding ‘irrelevance’ of acting to drama. For the concept of ‘notional fixity’ and why it does not rule out a measure of mouvance, see §7.1 above.

[ back ] 26. Bywater (1909:260) notes on Poetics 20: “This whole chapter has been condemned by Ritter and others as an interpolation; and it must be admitted that, according to our notions of the divisions of knowledge, the matter in it belongs to grammar and philology rather than to an Art of Poetry.”

[ back ] 27. ἡ δὲ ὄψις ψυχαγωγικὸν μέν, ἀτεχνότατον δὲ καὶ ἥκιστα οἰκεῖον τῆς ποιητικῆς· ἡ γὰρ τῆς τραγῳδίας δύναμις καὶ ἄνευ ἀγῶνος καὶ ὑποκριτῶν ἔστιν, ἔτι δὲ κυριωτέρα περὶ τὴν ἀπεργασίαν τῶν ὄψεων ἡ τοῦ σκευοποιοῦ τέχνη τῆς τῶν ποιητῶν ἐστιν (‘Theatrical spectacle moves the heart but it falls quite outside, and is least pertinent to, the art of poetry; for the effect of tragedy is present even without public contest and actors, and, besides, the production of visual effects belongs more to the art of the equipment and props maker than to the art of the poets’). Just as τὸ [φύσει] ὑποκριτικόν is ἄτεχνον, so also ‘spectacle’ is ἀτεχνότατον, not in absolute terms (for otherwise how could Aristotle in this very passage refer to ἡ τοῦ σκευοποιοῦ τέχνη?) but with respect to ἡ ποιητικὴ τέχνη (so, correctly, Susemihl 1874:101, 235; Gudeman 1934:190; and Halliwell 1986:340 §d). In contrast to ὑπόκρισις, however, which can be readily associated with λέξις—an association of φωνή with λόγος—and thus becomes the object of systematic study, the symbolic grammar of dramatic spectacle fails to benefit from a similar analytic strategy. The absence of a natural correspondence between verbal and visual language makes the crucial difference. Cf. Poetics 1453b1–9 and 1462a11–12.

[ back ] 28. Not necessarily as written texts (though also available thus), but as oral literature that can be actualized on demand by performance. It is doubtful that rhetorical addresses were ever similarly considered.

[ back ] 29. Addressing this distinction, Halliwell (1993:51) remarks apropos Rhetoric Ⅲ: “[T]he subject of these chapters is rhetorical lexis, not lexis in general, a point emphasized at 3.1.10, 04a 36–9.” See further above, §13.2 n. 31 and §13.5 n. 100.

[ back ] 30. To this definition of λέξις, Aristotle adds the further observation, ὃ καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν ἐμμέτρων καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν λόγων ἔχει τὴν αὐτὴν δύναμιν (‘which has the same potential in both verse and prose’, Poetics 1450b14–15). In its light, his earlier statement at 1449b33–34 is but a particular application of ἡ διὰ τῆς ὀνομασίας ἑρμηνεία to metrical expression (cf. Dupont-Roc and Lallot 1980:209–210). Note the divergent point of view of Rhetoric 1404a28: ἑτέρα λόγου καὶ ποιήσεως λέξις ἐστίν (‘The lexis of prose is different from that of poetry’). If the λέξις of the Poetics denotes ‘expression’ (equivalent in this sense to λόγος broadly understood as ‘speech’ in communication, as observed by Lucas 1968:195 ad 1456a37), in the Rhetoric the focus is more narrowly on the form of such expression, in particular on how it must be shaped for persuasive delivery before an audience.

[ back ] 31. See Rhetoric 1403a36–b1 with Grimaldi 1988:369 ad loc. Cf. also Poetics 1450b4–5: τοῦτο [i.e. ἡ διάνοια] δέ ἐστιν τὸ λέγειν δύνασθαι τὰ ἐνόντα καὶ τὰ ἁρμόττοντα. Lucas (1968:195) relates τοῦ λόγου in Poetics 1456a37 to λέξις as ‘expression’. But Aristotle not only conceptualizes rhetorical lexis and poetic lexis divergently; even the concept of λέξις that the Poetics explores in the following section—and tellingly fails to tie explicitly to pathos—diverges from the λόγος that is strictly instrumental to διάνοια. A distinction is presupposed at 1456a33–34, where λοιπόν divides into λέξις and διάνοια. And so it is that, after dismissing διάνοια and referring the interested reader to his Rhetoric, the philosopher then takes up λέξις at 1456b8 from the point of view of its σχήματα.

[ back ] 32. Cf. Aristotle’s comment at 1450a24–26 about ἀήθεις τραγῳδίαι (‘tragedies deficient in character’; cf. Lucas 1968:103 ad loc.).

[ back ] 33. There is, as scholars note, a parallel in the passage of the Rhetoric that starts at 1356a1, but with this important distinction: that, as befits an introduction, Aristotle there uses logos in the most general sense of ‘discourse, speech’ (cf. Grimaldi 1980 ad loc.) and makes no attempt to apportion ēthos or pathos to one or another component of the art of oratory. Therefore Kennedy’s remark, “Aristotle is not thinking of style and delivery but of the thought and contents” (1991:38n41), is unnecessary and a little misleading. That the philosopher does not exclude style any more than he does thought is clear from the comment that follows, namely, that persuasion through character happens whenever the speech is spoken in such a way as to make the speaker worthy of trust.

[ back ] 34. For the relevant testimonia and fragments, see DK 85 and Radermacher 1951:B.Ⅸ. For studies of his contribution to the development of prose and rhetoric, see Blass 1887:244–258, Schwartz 1892, Drerup 1901:225–251, and Kennedy 1963:68–70.

[ back ] 35. See below, §14.2.

[ back ] 36. Quintilian’s passing comment (Institutio oratoria 3.3.4) that Thrasymakhos had ascribed actio to natura rather than ars is not as definitive in its implications as might seem at first. For on the basis of Rhetoric 1404a15–16 the same can be said, grosso modo, about Aristotle himself. And yet we have seen how the philosopher, with this broad statement as a foil, introduces a technical notion of actio in its particular connection to elocutio. All the same, the logic of his thought has often escaped the modern scholar and we cannot be sure that Thrasymakhos’ words, even if faithfully reported by Quintilian, were not accompanied by such instruction as would have made clear, explicitly or implicitly, that in certain respects actio was, after all, susceptible of systematic analysis. Quintilian may have missed this, may have depended on a source that was not sufficiently accurate or detailed, or may have chosen only to report the general statement without any further elaboration. His remark, then, may do nothing more than place the sophist all the more firmly as a forerunner of Aristotle in his approach to ὑπόκρισις.

[ back ] 37. The Suidas s.v. Θρασύμαχος states: ἔγραψε συμβουλευτικούς, τέχνην ῥητορικήν, παίγνια, ἀφορμὰς ῥητορικάς (2.726 Θ no. 462 Adler). The scholiast to Aristophanes Birds 880, however, mentions a μεγάλη τέχνη: is it the same as the τέχνη ῥητορική of the Suidas? Cf. Plato Phaidros 261c2 and 266c3.

[ back ] 38. τῶν γε μὴν οἰκτρογόων ἐπὶ γῆρας καὶ πενίαν ἑλκομένων λόγων κεκρατηκέναι τέχνῃ μοι φαίνεται τὸ τοῦ Χαλκηδονίου σθένος, ὀργίσαι τε αὖ πολλοὺς ἅμα δεινὸς ἁνὴρ γέγονεν, καὶ πάλιν ὠργισμένοις ἐπᾴδων κηλεῖν, ὡς ἔφη· διαβάλλειν τε καὶ ἀπολύσασθαι διαβολὰς ὁθενδὴ κράτιστος. τὸ δὲ δὴ τέλος τῶν λόγων κοινῇ πᾶσιν ἔοικε συνδεδογμένον εἶναι, ᾧ τινες μὲν ἐπάνοδον, ἄλλοι δ’ ἄλλο τίθενται ὄνομα (267c7–d4).

[ back ] 39. Radermacher (1951:71) comments perceptively on the rhythmic structure Plato imparts to the words τῶν γε μὴν οἰκτρογόων ἐπὶ γῆρας καὶ πενίαν ἑλκομένων λόγων (Phaidros 267c7–8): “Ceterum notabis puros numeros … ex quo conicias in ἐλέων exemplis admodum numerosam fuisse sophistae orationem.”

[ back ] 40. Just as Aristotle does in Rhetoric Ⅲ.19, though chapter 14.7 makes clear that such devices are also profitably used in prooimia.

[ back ] 41. Or a middle style, if Grube 1952 is right (cf. O’Sullivan 1992:114), though his insistence upon rendering λέξις narrowly as ‘diction’ (word choice stricto sensu) seems misguided, as his own comments on pp. 264–266 hint. Cf. also Innes 1985:260–262.

[ back ] 42. ἡ συστρέφουσα τὰ νοήματα καὶ στρογγύλως ἐκφέρουσα λέξις (§6 p. 14.9–10 Usener). Grube (1952:260) translates: “A manner of writing (or speaking) which gathers up its ideas compactly and brings them out in bold relief.”

[ back ] 43. Presumably reading ἀσκοῦντας with F¹, although he too prints ἀσκούντων.

[ back ] 44. See below, §14.2.

[ back ] 45. E. Schwartz delevit: not only is it contradicted by the testimony of the Suidas but, as Blass (1887:250) notes, by established facts about the sophist, including the extant fragments. It is true that as a non-Athenian he would not have had the right to address the assembly, but neither are all speeches of a symbuleutic character necessarily for oral delivery or at least for delivery by the author himself. Thus, the reported Ὑπὲρ Λαρισαίων (DK 85 B2), whose single extant line indeed reads like a political address, may have belonged to a political pamphlet or it may have been written for a Thessalian embassy (so Blass 1887:250). And the Περὶ πολιτείας (DK 85 B1) is so generic an exemplum, as Radermacher (1951:B.Ⅸ.10) notes, that it may well have been extracted from a rhetorical manual. (Cf. Drerup 1901:227, who thinks it must have been a political pamphlet. For Dionysios [Dēmosthenēs §3 p. 132.18 Usener] it is a παράδειγμα from one of his δημηγορικοὶ λόγοι.) In any case, it is surprising that one who arguably took great interest in the rhetorical impact of emotions and whose style was arguably most fitting to the oratory of the law-court should not have left any forensic speeches (as Dionysios Isaios §20 observes).

[ back ] 46. Orator 175: “nam neminem in eo genere scientius versatum Isocrate confitendum est, sed princeps inveniundi fuit Thrasymachus, cuius omnia nimis etiam exstant scripta numerose.”

[ back ] 47. He means Dēmosthenēs §3, although on p. 68 he erroneously refers to “Isaeus 3.”

[ back ] 48. Cf. Grube 1952, who disputes Thrasymakhos’ alleged part in the development of the periodic style. But he is countered by Innes (1985:262), who suggests that Theophrastos may have recognized the sophist as the pioneer of “the mean between the unshaped and the overperiodic sentence.”

[ back ] 49. See above, §14.1 with n. 3.

[ back ] 50. This is an affirmation of the stylistic potential that writing holds for delivery; it does not of course assert that any and all written speeches in fact exhibited the force of their style at the expense of their argument. Some have sought to weaken the implication that οἱ γραφόμενοι λόγοι are introduced to make a point about the practice of performing orators. But, ceteris paribus, given its context one must surely grant not only the plausibility but even the likelihood that this implication is deliberate and true to fact. After all, it is while discussing the role of ὑπόκρισις qua art in its connection with λέξις that Aristotle observes that speakers who master this aspect of ῥητορική win prizes. Hence follows that the competitive success asserted of orators competent in ἡ περὶ τὴν λέξιν ὑπόκρισις must be the very fact that the ensuing γάρ clause seeks to explain when it draws attention to the ‘force’ of written speeches on account of their λέξις. Some translate οἱ γραφόμενοι λόγοι as ‘speeches intended for reading’, thereby dismissing any connection with performance other than perhaps an adventitious one. But no prizes were ever awarded to written speeches qua written, and this view effectively (and inadmissibly) severs the γάρ clause from the context it is supposed to illustrate. A sounder proposal, if in my opinion still too limiting, is that the statement chiefly regards epideictic showpieces (cf. Rhetoric 1414b24–25), whose authors would have hoped for a broad readership and even crafted them with reading in mind. But even under this proposal prize winning would still require their public oral performance (including perhaps reading them in public). This hypothetical scenario would only represent an extreme case of orators’ dependence on scripts for their delivery. Nonetheless, I believe that a broader reference than ‘epideictic’ is commended both by the context, itself a general survey, and by the present participle γραφόμενοι (on which see below). Sonkowsky (1959:261) is even more definitive and asserts that “the suggestion … that the epideiktikon genos is meant cannot be correct unless Aristotle is inconsistent,” because “[e]pideictic in the lexis graphikē is the most accurately written of the three kinds of discourse and depends the least upon delivery, the counterpart of style, for its effectiveness.” As a signal case of ‘epideictic’ (broadly understood) one might think of Isokrates. But although Aristotle knew some of his speeches and occasionally used them to illustrate his argument, these were not delivered by their author in a public setting such as would encourage the notion that they adequately illustrate the meaning, much less that they are the intended referent, of οἱ γραφόμενοι λόγοι. Isokrates famously declared himself neither well-endowed nor courageous enough to deal with the crowd and the speaker’s platform (Isokrates 5.81, 12.9–10, and Letter 8.7); and in Isokrates 5.7 he even contrasts the (arguably private or semi-public) oral delivery of a speech with its ‘publication’ (διαδοθέντος τοῦ λόγου; cf. Hudson-Williams 1949). Our current knowledge of Greek rhetoric suggests that there were no formal rhetorical contests with prizes during the classical period. Isokrates explicitly says so of his own time in Isokrates 4.1–3, a passage that equates δωρεαί, τιμή, and ἆθλον. Ancient reports point to Gorgias’ delivering addresses at Olympia and Delphi; the setting of Lysias 33 is Olympia (Lysias 33.2 ascribes to Herakles the convening of a twofold assembly featuring a physical ἀγών and an intellectual ἐπίδειξις [φιλοτιμίαν glosses ἀγῶνα and the Aldine δέ should be rejected]; the word choice underlines the different status of the contest and the display). Isokrates 5.12–13, 15.147, and Letter 1.6 confirm that ἐπιδείξεις were regularly delivered at πανηγύρεις and further suggest the absence of prizes (cf. Carey 2007:238). But if ἆθλα therefore stands not for placing first in a contest but metaphorically for success in the competitive settings of the courtroom (where plaintiff and defendant contended; cf. Plato Euthydēmos 305b6–9), the assembly (where competing policies were advocated), and the festival (where orators hoped that their own showpieces would receive a more enthusiastic hearing than their rivals’), then we are emphatically not dealing with ‘speeches intended for reading’, except perhaps in the very restricted sense of ‘intended for reading aloud’ where, exceptionally (cf. Alkidamas On the Sophists §18), delivery permitted an overt show of dependence on a script. Alkidamas’ On the Sophists further supports connecting οἱ γραφόμενοι λόγοι with performance. It proves that written speeches were viewed by traditionalists in the rhetorical trade as unwelcome parvenus not to Athenian bookshops but to public delivery. It is surely significant that Aristotle follows up his comment about written speeches with further observations on the role of voice and the rise of rhapsodic and dramatic performance as τέχναι; and that he adds the opinion of the uneducated that those whose public delivery style bears heavy poetic color ‘speak best’ (διαλέγεσθαι κάλλιστα). In sum, nothing suggests that οἱ γραφόμενοι λόγοι are ‘speeches intended for reading’, while there is much to commend the view that they are precisely what Aristotle calls them, ‘written speeches’. One final point: note that the philosopher calls them neither οἱ γραπτοὶ λόγοι (cf. Alkidamas On the Sophists §§1, 14, 18, 25, 31–33) nor οἱ γεγραμμένοι λόγοι (cf. Plato Phaidros 277e5; Aristotle Rhetoric 1407b11–12, Sophistical Refutations 166b3–4, Topics 105b12–13, and the many mentions of γεγραμμένοι νόμοι in the Rhetoric), both, alternatives that would have emphasized the speeches as written products. Overlooking for a moment all the other arguments that preclude the meaning ‘speeches intended for reading’, if nothing else these alternatives per se would more plausibly hint at the circulation of written texts apart from performance. By using instead γραφόμενοι, which as a present-tense participle cannot in this context be particular (Smyth §§2052, 2728a), Aristotle shows that he has in view not an actually existing class of speeches but a contingency (‘speeches that are [being] written’ meaning ‘if/whenever speeches are written’) that at the very least marginally draws attention to process and practice. Such practice must in turn be regarded against the context of technical ὑπόκρισις. Cf. Alkidamas’ mention of οἱ εἰς τὰ δικαστήρια τοὺς λόγους γράφοντες (On the Sophists §13). For Aristotelian parallels, cf. De interpretatione 16a3–4 (τὰ ἐν τῇ φωνῇ, ‘what one speaks’, versus τὰ γραφόμενα, ‘what one writes’); and Historia animalium 515a34–35 (ὥσπερ ἐν τοῖς γραφομένοις κανάβοις) vis-à-vis De generatione animalium 743a2 (καθάπερ οἱ τοὺς κανάβους γράφοντες ἐν τοῖς τοίχοις).

[ back ] 51. And perhaps transcripts of others, not their own, whose past success commended them as models to imitate. Cf. Plutarch Dēmosthenēs §8.2.

[ back ] 52. Isokrates’ case is truly exceptional and resulted from his peculiar incapacitating infirmity. Compare §14.2 n. 50 immediately above with Rhetoric 1414a16–17. See also Harris 1989:85–86 (where “the author of the Rhetorica ad Alexandrum” at 86 should be corrected to ‘Aristotle’). Nota bene that the contested (for Harris, “highly dubious”) Aristotelian report preserved by Dionysios of Halikarnassos (cf. his note 99) refers to Aristotle’s, not Isokrates’, times.

[ back ] 53. Arguably, this point of view underlies an otherwise puzzling fact: the examples Aristotle selects to illustrate his exposition in the Rhetoric generally fail to demonstrate first-hand, detailed acquaintance with actual forensic and deliberative speeches (Trevett 1996a). Precisely because their scripts (and transcripts) were considered ancillary and derivative they must have enjoyed, if at all, rather limited circulation (pace Dionysios of Halikarnassos Isokratēs 18; see n. 52 immediately above) and must have been hard to acquire. And ordinarily—there are exceptions—the philosopher may have considered them too ephemeral to admit of cogent and intelligible contextualization, or to suit a treatise that to escape premature obsolescence had better avoid potentially obscure historical singularities (cf. Trevett 1996a:377–378). By reason of their greater popularity, reach, and expected longevity, various poetic works were naturally (if paradoxically) a better source of stylistic exempla (cf. Graff 2005, esp. 322–334). The sole significant exception was epideictic rhetoric (Trevett 1996a:375–376), especially Isokrates’, whose written speeches, one must assume, were considered of such polish and were so readily available to, and familiar among, those interested enough in oratory to consult Aristotle on the subject that the philosopher thought them suitable for illustration. The relatively greater difficulty of procuring oneself with actual scripts of forensic and deliberative oratory, and even an estimate of their finish and excellence that perhaps compared unfavorably with those of epideictic and poetry, do not preclude Aristotle’s conviction and acknowledgment, expressed in Rhetoric 1404a16–19, that orators in all performance settings, not just where epideictic was concerned, were the better and more successful for their mastery of technical delivery, and that written scripts played a central role in reaching the desired proficiency.

[ back ] 54. ῥήτωρ καὶ δημαγωγός· ὅστις πρῶτος γραπτὸν λόγον ἐν δικαστηρίῳ εἶπε, τῶν πρὸ αὐτοῦ σχεδιαζόντων (4.100 Π no. 1180 Adler). On this, Blass (1887:35n5) remarks: “[D]iese letzte Notiz geht ganz entschieden auf Aristoteles oder Theophrast zurück.”

[ back ] 55. “Nam antea neminem solitum via nec arte, sed accurate tamen et de scripto plerosque dicere” (Cicero Brutus §46). Although the vulgate descripto has been plausibly emended to descripte (or even discripte) and plerosque seems arguably an overstatement, one cannot entirely rule out ‘from a script’ as the true reading, especially if the report of Perikles’ practice preserved in the Suidas is accurate and goes back to peripatetic sources. Note that this assertion in the Brutus is immediately followed by “scriptasque fuisse et paratas a Protagora rerum illustrium disputationes” (my emphasis). Cf. Blass 1887:27n1, 34–39. Even if Quintilian was right to reject the attribution of certain extant writings to the famous Athenian (Institutio oratoria 3.1.12), and even if these same writings are the ones that Cicero (Brutus §27, De oratore Ⅱ §93) apparently accepted as genuine—which of these two critics is one to prefer?—it need not follow that Cicero inferred the use of scripts from the falsely attributed texts. I am not convinced, at any rate, by the thoroughgoing skepticism of Hudson-Williams 1951 and Trevett 1996b:433–436. Plutarch’s observation in Periklēs §8.7 (perhaps confirmed by Plato Phaidros 257d–e) that Perikles bequeathed no writings to posterity hardly proves that he never used scripts. In fact, that the Suidas should have claimed him as the first to deliver a written speech not before the assembly (as one might otherwise have expected) but in a courtroom argues for the veracity of the report; and the scrupulousness implicit in the practice agrees with the portrait of a man who was περὶ τὸν λόγον εὐλαβής (Periklēs §8.6). I am, however, persuaded (and Alkidamas and Rhetoric Ⅲ.12 support the view) that ceteris paribus deliberative speeches were less likely to depend, and in fact less frequently depended, on a script for their delivery; and that, when they did, the scripts were probably less elaborate and detailed both as to form and content.

[ back ] 56. For this acceptation of de, see the OLD s.v. 7c: “indicating personal or other source of information.” E.g. de scripto sententia dicta (Cicero Pro Sestio 129); or de tabulis publicis recitat (Cicero Pro Flacco 40).

[ back ] 57. See n. 55 immediately above.

[ back ] 58. καὶ σύνοισθά που καὶ αὐτὸς ὅτι οἱ μέγιστον δυνάμενοί τε καὶ σεμνότατοι ἐν ταῖς πόλεσιν αἰσχύνονται λόγους τε γράφειν καὶ καταλείπειν συγγράμματα ἑαυτῶν, δόξαν φοβούμενοι τοῦ ἔπειτα χρόνου, μὴ σοφισταὶ καλῶνται (Plato Phaidros 257d4–8: ‘And you yourself know, I suppose, that those of the greatest power and dignity in our cities are ashamed to write speeches and leave behind writings of their own, fearing the opinion of future times lest they be called sophists’). Cf. Phaidros 257c6, where λογογράφος is considered a term of opprobrium.

[ back ] 59. Plutarch Periklēs 8.7 (156c10–11): ἔγγραφον μὲν οὖν οὐδὲν ἀπολέλοιπε πλὴν τῶν ψηφισμάτων.

[ back ] 60. Cf. Blass 1887:36.

[ back ] 61. To which Stallbaum 1857b ad loc. adds: “per totum enim librum Lysias non ut orator, sed tanquam orationum scriptor carpitur.”

[ back ] 62. Phaidros 258a6–8: ἔπειτα λέγει δὴ μετὰ τοῦτο, ἐπιδεικνύμενος τοῖς ἐπαινέταις τὴν ἑαυτοῦ σοφίαν, ἐνίοτε πάνυ μακρὸν ποιησάμενος σύγγραμμα (‘Then he speaks after this, displaying his own wisdom to his fans, having composed at times a very long writing’). For λογογραφία taken broadly as ‘composition of speeches’ see Yunis 2011:172 ad 257e1–2 and Innes 2007:154 ad Rhetoric 1388b21–22. See also above, §9.6.

[ back ] 63. I agree with O’Sullivan (1996:127) contra Graff (2001:22 and 37) when he observes in connection with Rheroric Ⅲ.12 that “[t]he written and the spoken, of such importance in the fifth century, continue to be the framework [for the analysis of rhetorical prose] as the world moves into an increasingly bookish Hellenistic age.” Graff, on the other hand, believes that O’Sullivan overestimates the significance of the written/spoken division and maintains that “[t]he twelfth chapter [of the Rhetoric] and the stylistic distinction it contains have the character of an afterthought” (22). That Aristotle should have planned and executed the composition of his treatise so haphazardly strikes me as psychologically implausible and un-Aristotelian. Such a notion is in fact belied by the deliberate manner in which the philosopher moves from one thematic head to the next. I do not mean to suggest, however, that all transitions are flawlessly executed. Aristotle was arguably comfortable with a measure of redundancy that many think awkward (e.g. at Rhetoric 1403a34–b8). The expectation that Rhetoric Ⅲ.1–12 should exhibit unity of design and expository coherence seems warranted even under the assumption that it was composed as an independent work. Chapter 12 starts with a transition that is not only smooth but also of the type expected for a closing summary that ties the threads of the argument together: ‘But one must not forget that a different style suits each genus [of rhetoric]’. Having surveyed λέξις without reference to, and insofar as common to all, genera, Aristotle now attempts to close with the stylistic emphases peculiar to each genus. At 1414a18–29 he notes explicitly that this has been the design of the entire section (chapters 1–12): ‘To subdivide lexis further, [to state] that it must be pleasant and elevated, is superfluous. For why [state this] rather than [that it should be] temperate and liberal and whatever other virtue of character there is? Obviously what has been discussed will bring about that it is pleasant, if indeed the virtue of lexis has been rightly defined … . So then, I am done speaking about lexis, from the point of view both of what is common about all [genera] and of what is peculiar to each genus’. Clearly the ‘common point of view’ (κοινῇ a28) regards the earlier chapters whereas the ‘peculiar’ (ἰδίᾳ a29), the present summation. As it is, if with Rapp (2002:2.948) one takes the presence of transitions and summations as proof that Rhetoric Ⅲ.12 is merely an appendix, then one will be denying Aristotle the expository strategies that would precisely allow him to integrate his earlier exposition of common elements of style with his summation of the subject from the vantage point of genera. According to Rapp, the view that chapter 12 is integral to the philosopher’s conception of rhetorical style remains implausible in the absence of explicit advance notice of its content earlier in the treatise. Apparently, only prior warning would adequately prepare the reader for a conclusion to ‘style’ that makes application to the three main social settings of rhetorical practice. Had Aristotle actually included such notice in chapter 1, I suspect that many would think it interpolated into an outline that did not include the corresponding material. On the internal coherence of Rhetoric Ⅲ.1–12 and its integration (and, more generally, the integration of Book 3) with the rest of the treatise, cf. Grimaldi 1972, Kennedy 1991:299–305, Graff 2000:12–17, Innes 2007:151n2, and Burkett 2011:xi–xxxv.

[ back ] 64. A different attempt to construe the passage is to invert the reference of τὸ μὲν … τὸ δέ, with the former pointing to the graphic, the latter to the agonistic, style. This is Thurot’s strategy, who replaces by μόνον the μὴ of οἱ μὴ ἐπιστάμενοι γράφειν. To this, Roemer 1898 ad loc. writes: “sed tum verba τὸ μὲν ἑλληνίζειν ἐπίστασθαι ad λέξιν γραφικὴν referenda essent, quod fieri non potest, contra verba ἄν τι βούληται μεταδοῦναι τοῖς ἄλλοις latiore sensu intellegenda significare videntur, quod Bonitzius cum omnibus interpretibus declarat ‘tradere per libros scriptos’.”

[ back ] 65. Greek has no set rule by which τὸ μέν consistently means ‘the former’ and τὸ δέ ‘the latter’ or vice versa. The choice must be guided by the context (LSJ s.vv. ὁ, ἡ, τό A.Ⅵ.1; cf. K-G Ⅱ.2.264 §527.3a Anm. 1). As early as Β 52 οἱ μέν is found to point to ‘the latter’ and τοὶ δ[έ] to ‘the former’.

[ back ] 66. I do not call it ‘opposition’ for reasons detailed on §14.2 below.

[ back ] 67. Cf. Rapp 2002:2.931.

[ back ] 68. ἡ μὲν οὖν ἐπιδεικτικὴ λέξις γραφικωτάτη· τὸ γὰρ ἔργον αὐτῆς ἀνάγνωσις· δευτέρα δὲ ἡ δικανική.

[ back ] 69. ἔστι δὲ λέξις γραφικὴ μὲν ἡ ἀκριβεστάτη (1413b8–9).

[ back ] 70. ἡ μὲν οὖν δημηγορικὴ λέξις καὶ παντελῶς ἔοικε τῇ σκιαγραφίᾳ … διὸ τὰ ἀκριβῆ περίεργα καὶ χείρω φαίνεται … · ἡ δὲ δίκη ἀκριβέστερον (1414a7–11).

[ back ] 71. Rapp 2002:2.937.ⅳ.

[ back ] 72. I will make clear below that, even on these terms, this consensus reading is impossible. I accept it here simply for the sake of argument.

[ back ] 73. Grimaldi’s translation, “and since one thing is suasive and credible in and by itself, another by the fact that it seems to be proved by statements that are such” (1980:52 ad b28), although equivalent to Aristotle’s meaning, is not syntactically accurate. The subject of ἐστι is τὸ πιθανόν, an abstract concept that I might somewhat inelegantly render as ‘the persuasive’. This concept embraces any and every particular instance of what persuades. Since the ensuing observation is predicated of this abstract notion, stricto sensu it must be translated ‘the persuasive is either X or Y’ or, better, ‘the persuasive is now X, now Y’. It may well be the case that ordinarily no instance of ‘the persuasive’ will be both inherently suasive at times and derivatively suasive at others (or even suasive partly in and by itself, partly derivatively), although this possibility cannot be absolutely excluded. But insofar as some instances are inherently suasive/credible and some derivatively suasive/credible, the larger notion of ‘the persuasive’ to which all belong can and must be pronounced ‘now inherently persuasive, now derivatively persuasive’. Had Aristotle written instead, ἐπεὶ γὰρ τὰ πιθανὰ τινὶ πιθανά ἐστι, one could then take Grimaldi’s translation as Aristotle’s meaning stricto sensu. For another instance of the abstract τὸ πιθανόν see 1355b15–16.

[ back ] 74. Nothing prevents the inherently and immediately plausible from being susceptible of inferential proof too.

[ back ] 75. K-G Ⅱ.2.264 §527.3a: “τὸ μέν … τὸ δέ, τὰ μέν … τὰ δέ und τοῦτο μέν … τοῦτο δέ … , teils … teils, einerseits … andererseits, sowohl … als auch.” See also LSJ s.vv. ὁ, ἡ, τό A.Ⅷ.4. An adverbial construal, with the elided subject understood from the previous clause, is satisfactory too: ‘For [to know both] is both (τὸ μέν) to know how to speak good Greek and (τὸ δέ) not to be forced …’.

[ back ] 76. Why introduce here this strange notion of publishing books for distant audiences? Why not simply say, ‘knowing the graphic style makes possible persuasive speaking when precision is required’? If Aristotle’s point was to provide a compelling example of the orator’s need to master the written style, he should have chosen something that was ordinarily within the scope and interest of the citizen orator-to-be. Such would arguably be addressing the assembly and courtroom, a compelling prospect that I claim must be what Aristotle has in mind here.

[ back ] 77. Plato Prōtagoras 319c8–d7.

[ back ] 78. ὁ νομοθέτης διαρρήδην ἀπέδειξεν οὓς χρὴ δημηγορεῖν καὶ οὓς οὐ δεῖ λέγειν ἐν τῷ δήμῳ. καὶ οὐκ ἀπελαύνει ἀπὸ τοῦ βήματος, εἴ τις μὴ προγόνων ἐστὶν ἐστρατηγηκότων [υἱός], οὐδέ γε εἰ τέχνην τινὰ ἐργάζεται ἐπικουρῶν τῇ ἀναγκαίᾳ τροφῇ, ἀλλὰ τούτους καὶ μάλιστα ἀσπάζεται, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο πολλάκις ἐπερωτᾷ ‘τίς ἀγορεύειν βούλεται;’ (Aiskhines 1.27). Also reflecting this right and duty are the many references to ὁ βουλόμενος in the democratic process ([Demosthenes] 13.11 and Demosthenes 24.63; SEG 26.72, line 34; Aiskhines 1.23, 2.65; Andokides 1.23; Athēnaiōn Politeia 29.2).

[ back ] 79. Cf. Demosthenes 18.170, 191; Aristophanes Akharnians 45, Women at the Thesmophoria 379, Assemblywomen 130; and Alkidamas On the Sophists §11. On political initiative in Athens see Hansen 1981, Hansen 1991:266–268, and Ober 1989:108–112.

[ back ] 80. Plato Prōtagoras 319c1–7, although hardly an objective source, may be safely assumed to paint a realistic picture of the humiliation inflicted on a speaker by his fellow citizens. Cf. also Demosthenes 19.113 (and 19.14, one of many instances in which a speaker entreats the assembly not to interrupt with their clamoring).

[ back ] 81. My suggestion assumes, of course, that the citizen in question had decided in advance to take the initiative in the debate and could therefore make a script of his planned motion; or else that the scheduled debate regarded a subject sufficiently well known and defined to allow a script readied in advance of the meeting, with minimal adjustment at the time of delivery, substantially to represent the individual’s contribution to the discussion. For the view that these meetings had agendas and that one could seek to get an item added to them, see MacDowell 1975:64.B2. Obviously, Alkidamas’ scornful sketch in On the Sophists §11 cannot be taken to preclude scripted delivery before the people; for he ridicules the thought of a ῥήτωρ hastening to his writing tablet not only upon hearing the herald asking ‘Which citizen wants to speak?’ but also after the water clock in the courtroom is running. Yet no one, I think, will dispute the currency of scripted forensic delivery, often facilitated by the professional λογογράφος. Cf. Mariß (2002:169–170), especially her comment at 170 that “die Existenz eines schriftlichen λόγος δημηγορικός … wird suggeriert,” a suggestion however that she dismisses as objectively untenable and mooted by Alkidamas only to serve his rhetorical polemic. Be that as it may, we have the tantalizing notice in Thoukydides 8.68 that Antiphon was the one man best able to help before court and assembly whoever consulted with him in a matter. Pace Hudson-Williams (1951:69–70), the parallel between the forensic and the deliberative settings is telling. Once again, we must beware not to conflate the separate questions whether deliberative speeches were ‘published’ and whether speakers prepared at all with the aid of writing for their addresses before council and assembly. Such preparation could have been partial, chiefly comprising model proems, perorations, commonplaces, topics, aphorisms and the like—all elements that could be quickly adjusted to the need of the moment. Whatever the practice in the late fifth and early fourth centuries, all that I need for my present purposes is that the use of scripts for demegoric addresses should have been unexceptional enough by Aristotle’s time to motivate the philosopher’s recourse to them when he makes the case for writing as needful for rhetorical proficiency and uninhibited political engagement. I believe it is of some significance to my proposal that, starting soon after the year 403/402 BC, in accordance with what MacDowell (1975:65) calls the “Old Legislation Law,” anyone wishing to propose a new law had to submit a written proposal in advance (Demosthenes 20.89–99). This requirement, while eventually relaxed by the “New Legislation Law” (Demosthenes 20.91, with MacDowell 1975:65–66), remained in force for the “Review Law” (Demosthenes 24.20–23, with MacDowell 1975:66–68, esp. 67.D4).

[ back ] 82. Cf. Demosthenes 18.308 and 22.30. It is precisely the combination of voluntary speaking (ἄν τι βούληται) and self-imposed silence (ἀναγκάζεσθαι κατασιωπᾶν) that convinces me that the forensic setting is not primarily in view. There, one would more naturally be said ‘to have to speak’ rather than ‘to want to speak’; and neither plaintiff nor defendant could afford to remain silent even if he did not enjoy the aid of a script, whether drafted in person or supplied by the λογογράφος. On ἰσηγορία see Lewis 1971 and Hülsewiesche 2002.

[ back ] 83. Americans are used to a highly abstract concept of ‘speech’ that is deemed, at times, to include even the way money is spent. Hence the polemic whether placing restrictions on expenditures during political campaigns constitutes an unlawful abridgment of the constitutional right to free speech. But surely for Aristotle ‘to keep silent’ must have denoted sooner one who does not speak up than one who does not publish a written communication. On κατασιωπᾶν, see further below.

[ back ] 84. Hence Rapp’s remark (2002:2.932) that “[mit ἑλληνίζειν] scheint … nur eine minimale Bedingung genannt zu sein, und außerdem eine, die auch der schriftlichen Form zugrunde liegt … .”

[ back ] 85. The consensus reading implies that ἑλληνίζειν constitutes the essence of the ‘agonistic’ style and, furthermore, that both the demegoric and the dicanic are subsumed under it. This necessarily entails a corresponding reduction of the dicanic to basic oral competence, a reduction that is hard to accept for a setting that often depended emphatically on scripted delivery.

[ back ] 86. Cf. Kennedy 1991:231. It consists of five elements: first, the correct use of connectives; second, the use of specific names and steering clear of circumlocutions; third, the avoidance amphibolies; fourth, keeping the genders distinct; and, fifth, observing number.

[ back ] 87. The fact that Aristotle is considering the necessity and importance of writing even for the demegoric style, the least precise and most agonistic of all styles, shows how misleading it is to equate ‘agonistic’ with ‘oral’ and ‘graphic’ with ‘written.’ This, which Aristotle studiously avoids, Rapp (2002:2.931) does when he writes: “Insofern der Gegenbegriff zur Form der Kontroverse der des schriftlichen Stils ist, mag man dazu neigen, die Kontroverse ganz mit dem mündlichen Stil gleichzusetzen; das entspricht der Argumentation des Kapitels auch im Großen und Ganzen, an einer Stelle jedoch, scheint eine mündliche Rede berücksichtigt zu sein, die nicht kontrovers ist (vgl. 1414a12–14)” (his emphasis). This last observation displays the failure of the schematism.

[ back ] 88. Bonitz 1870:459 s.v. μεταδιδόναι: “tradere per libros scriptos.” Cf. §14.2 n. 64 above.

[ back ] 89. Here follows a list of such contexts: Euripides Iphigeneia among the Taurians 1030 ‘tell me what you think’ (δόξης μετάδος, ὡς κἀγὼ μάθω), Hiketides 56–58 ‘share now your thought with me’ (μετά νυν | δὸς ἐμοὶ σᾶς διανοίας, μετάδος δ’), Orestēs 153 ‘tell us/give us an account’ (λόγου μετάδος); Plato Phaidōn 63c9 ‘or will you share [your thought] with us?’ (ἢ κἂν ἡμῖν [τῆς διανοίας] μεταδοίης;), Kratylos 426b6–8 ‘these [notions], then, I will share with you if you want me to; and you, if you can find anywhere something better, try also to share it with me’ (τούτων οὖν σοι μεταδώσω, ἂν βούλῃ· σὺ δ’ ἄν τι ἔχῃς βέλτιόν ποθεν λαβεῖν, πειρᾶσθαι καὶ ἐμοὶ μεταδιδόναι), Lysis 204a2–3 ‘we spend our time mostly in conversation, in which we would gladly let you share’ (ἡ δὲ διατριβὴ τὰ πολλὰ ἐν λόγοις, ὧν ἡδέως ἄν σοι μεταδιδοῖμεν); Aiskhines 2.52 ‘allow to speak’ (ἀλλ’ οὔτ’ ἂν ὑμῖν ὁ ῥήτωρ οὗτος οὔτ’ ἂν ἐμοὶ λόγου μεταδοίη); Polybios 29.27.4 ‘consult with his friends about the circumstances’ (μεταδοῦναι τοῖς φίλοις ὑπὲρ τῶν προσπεπτωκότων), 38.8.1 ‘when Golosses communicated the conversation to the general’ (τοῦ δὲ Γολόσσου μεταδόντος τῷ στρατηγῷ περὶ τῶν εἰρημένων); Dionysios of Halikarnassos Roman Antiquities 6.82.3 ‘for we will no longer allow you to speak’ (οὐ γὰρ ἂν ἔτι μεταδοίημεν ὑμῖν λόγου), 10.9.3 ‘admitting no outsider either to their counsel or conversation’ (μεταδιδόντες οὐθενὶ τῶν ἔξωθεν οὔτε βουλεύματος οὔτε λόγου), 10.13.7 ‘and not even allowing the tribunes to speak also’ (καὶ οὐδὲ λόγου τοῖς δημάρχοις ἔτι μεταδόντες), 10.40.2 ‘but preventing those who wished to oppose the measure from speaking’ (τὸ δὲ μὴ μεταδιδόναι λόγου τοῖς ἀντιλέξαι βουλομένοις); Plutarch Quaestiones convivales 697d7–8 ‘but because he participates and shares in conversation’ (ἀλλ’ ὅτι λόγου μεταλαμβάνει καὶ μεταδίδωσιν); [Plutarch] Moralia 102b3–4 ‘I thought it good to share with you these consolatory words to relieve your grief’ (καλῶς ἔχειν ὑπέλαβον τῶν παραμυθητικῶν σοι μεταδοῦναι λόγων πρὸς ἄνεσιν τῆς λύπης); Dio Chrysostomus 37.1 ‘I shared my oratory with the people and your officers’ (τῶν λόγων μετέδωκα τῷ δήμῳ καὶ τοῖς τέλεσι τοῖς ὑμετέροις), 38.4 ‘why are you giving yourself the right to speak when we have not given it to you?’ (τί δὲ σεαυτῷ λόγου μεταδίδως, οὗ σοὶ μὴ μετέδομεν ἡμεῖς;), 38.5 ‘to have allowed a friend to speak who is willing to do so in vain’ (ἀνδρὶ φίλῳ λόγου μεταδοῦναι βουλομένῳ μάτην εἰπεῖν), 56.11 ‘if although being a king he allowed the others to speak’ (εἰ βασιλεὺς ὢν μετεδίδου λόγου τοῖς ἄλλοις); Josephus Bellum Judaicum 2.142 ‘he swears not to share their doctrines with anyone’ (ὄμνυσιν μηδενὶ μὲν μεταδοῦναι τῶν δογμάτων); 1 Thessalonians 2.8 ‘to share with you not only the gospel’ (μεταδοῦναι ὑμῖν οὐ μόνον τὸ εὐαγγέλιον); Akhilleus Tatios 4.7.8 ‘let her come before my eyes and converse with me’ (εἰς ὀφθαλμοὺς ἡκέτω τοὺς ἐμοὺς καὶ λόγων μεταδότω); Athenaios 1.2a ‘will you then agree to share with us too the fine talk you had over the cups … ?’ (ἆρ’ οὖν ἐθελήσεις καὶ ἡμῖν τῶν καλῶν ἐπικυλικίων λόγων μεταδοῦναι … ;), 14.643e–f ‘all the ones I remember I will also share with you … . But those names of flat cakes we copied we will also share with you’ (ὅσων μέμνημαι τούτων σοι καὶ μεταδώσω … . ἡμεῖς δὲ ἃ μετεγράψαμεν ὀνόματα πλακούντων τούτων σοι καὶ μεταδώσομεν); cf. Eusebios Ecclesiastical History 2.1.8; Cassius Dio 5.18.8; Philostratos Vitae sophistarum 2.18.599.9–10.

[ back ] 90. What fourth-century Athenian, successful in court and assembly, would have ever thought that his ability to communicate with others depended on his disseminating written documents?

[ back ] 91. Livingstone (2001:185) writes: “Isocrates regularly insists that his works are not intended for ἐπίδειξις, public performance and self-display … . Isocrates’ antithesis between (mere) ἐπίδειξις and practical, useful rhetoric parallels the Platonic Socrates’ contrast between ἐπίδειξις and dialectic. It … reappears in places where, as here, the practical objective is to give useful advice … [I]n Busiris … it is all the more necessary to remind his readers that this is not ἐπίδειξις for its own sake, but for a serious purpose.” On ὑποδεῖξαί σοι he adds: “[T]he verb ὑποδεικνύναι suggests a more ‘restrained’ presentation than ἐπιδεικνύναι … [It] means ‘to illustrate’, to show in brief … [and] can be used of getting a message across without stating it publicly … . In the present passage the idea of a concealed communication … is reinforced by the antithesis τοῖς ἄλλοις/σοι. Compare especially Ep. I 6, where Isocrates uses the fact that he is writing to Dionysius personally, rather than speaking at a public festival, as evidence that his aim is serious and practical, not ‘epideictic’” (185–186). There is therefore nothing here about ‘the world at large’ or ‘absent addressees’ who cannot be reached but by the medium of writing. (In fact, in Letter 1 Dionysios is the absent addressee, while the contrasting πλεῖστοι of §6 enjoy face-to-face delivery!) The point is narrowly rhetorical and regards grounding the orator’s claim about the character of his address in the identity and scope of his alleged target audience.

[ back ] 92. I take the translation from Gerber’s Loeb Classical Library edition. σοὶ μὲν ἐγὼ πτέρ’ ἔδωκα, σὺν οἷσ’ ἐπ’ ἀπείρονα πόντον | πωτήσηι, κατὰ γῆν πᾶσαν ἀειρόμενος ‖ ῥηϊδίως· θοίνηις δὲ καὶ εἰλαπίνηισι παρέσσηι | ἐν πάσαις πολλῶν κείμενος ἐν στόμασιν. Race (1987:149–150) explores related Pindaric precedents and echoes.

[ back ] 93. τοὺς δὲ λόγους ἐξενεχθῆναί θ’ οἷόν τ’ ἐστιν εἰς τὴν Ἑλλάδα καὶ διαδοθέντας ἐν ταῖς τῶν εὖ φρονούντων διατριβαῖς ἀγαπᾶσθαι. I take this sentence to be the reason why Innes mentions Isokrates 9.74 even though it does not feature οἱ ἄλλοι. τοῖς ἄλλοις ἅπασιν does occur at the end of the section, but in a context that bears no relation to her argument.

[ back ] 94. Hudson-Williams 1949.

[ back ] 95. Cf. Hägg 2012:33; pp. 30–41 provide a convenient introduction to the oration.

[ back ] 96. Oral delivery is further suggested by ἐν εἰδόσιν ποιούμενοι τοὺς λόγους (9.5); and τοὺς δ’ ἄλλους ἐθιστέον ἀκούειν περὶ ὧν καὶ λέγειν δίκαιόν ἐστιν (9.7). Isokrates inscribes his συγγράφειν (9.8) in the notional context of performance before an audience of hearers (cf. 9.4).

[ back ] 97. It is well known that Evagoras was an honorary citizen of Athens (cf. IG I³ 113, Isokrates 9.54, and Demosthenes 12.10), so that Isokrates’ encomium, however thin in actual biographical detail and historical accuracy, had every hope of being warmly received by his fellow citizens. Braund (1998:54) suggests that “Isocrates’ oration was clearly immediately influential. Its effect can be seen in Xenophon’s Agesilaus” (but cf. Hägg 2012:41). We also know that Athens honored Evagoras ca. 393 BC with a decree from which three small fragments have survived. In connection with it Lewis and Stroud (1979:187) remark that “the enthusiastic welcome which Konon received as a returning hero was to a large extent shared by his Cyprian patron.”

[ back ] 98. Although τοὺς γραπ- before -τούς could have fallen out, I for one do not agree with the editors that the text must be emended. Alkidamas’ complaint is precisely that the use of writing is so widespread that ‘the speeches of the rest’, i.e. of all others who make oratory their regular practice, are scripted and therefore do not fail to spoil their audiences. It is precisely the hyperbolic τῶν ἄλλων τοὺς λόγους that explains why Alkidamas has reluctantly given in to the practice and does not even consider that any, perhaps even a majority, of his potential new hearers may have been exposed to, much less might well appreciate, extempore speaking.

[ back ] 99. For ἐκφέρω as ‘oral delivery’ see Hudson-Williams 1949:65–66. Cf. Mariß 2002: “[ἐκφέρειν] charakterisiert eher die mündliche Epideixis” (291).

[ back ] 100. My translation seeks to capture what Mariß (2002:294) rightly observes: “Vielmehr wird die präpositionale Wendung ἐξ ἐκείνου τοῦ τρόπου durch den ὅταν-Satz erklärt und konkretisiert: ‘fordern wir auf, auf jene Weise eine Probe von uns zu nehmen, wenn wir jeweils (da das Publikum das richtige ist) über jeden vorgelegten Gegenstand εὐκαίρως καὶ μουσικῶς sprechen können’.” Because the temporal contingency of ὅταν hinges on the presence of the right kind of public (those who often meet Alkidamas), insofar as restricted to them this contingency turns factual and the ὅταν clause is equivalent to an explanation (‘because then’). In other words, τοῖς πολλάκις ἡμῖν ἐντυγχάνουσιν notionally supplies a temporal reference point, a τότε, which ὅταν answers (Smyth §2240; cf. On the Sophists §13).

[ back ] 101. Mariß (2002:295) notes that here Alkidamas uses μὲν … δέ first to present, and then to expand on, a particular point of chronology: διὰ χρόνου μέν, ‘after a time’, is thus reprised by μηδεπώποτε δὲ πρότερον, ‘never yet before’. These do not regard two different groups but one and the same set of potential hearers who finally come to hear Alkidamas perform. διὰ χρόνου draws attention to the fact that they have long had the opportunity to hear him yet have never before availed themselves of it; it also hints at Alkidamas’ dissatisfied impatience with them.

[ back ] 102. Mariß (2002:295) correctly renders ἀκροάσεις “Rezitation,” “Lesung,” and suggests recourse to τοῖς μὲν γὰρ πολλάκις ἡμῖν ἐντυγχάνουσιν for clarification. She also adds that “Schriftliches liegt jedenfalls zugrunde.”

[ back ] 103. Cf. Isokrates 5.81 and 15.192. An only slightly less negative assessment seems implicated by Isokrates 2.16 and 12.263. In Isokrates 4.150, in a context that does not regard public speaking, the majority of the Persians are called ‘a mob without discipline’ (ὄχλος ἄτακτος). The connotation of the term is neutral at 4.96, 6.64, 6.73, 6.78, 18.9, and perhaps at 11.26. But none of these regard a rhetorical context and are therefore without relevance. With a different acceptation, ὄχλος as ‘mass’ (i.e. ‘great number’) occurs at 12.192 and 15.310; at 12.211 and 15.320 it denotes ‘trouble’.

[ back ] 104. τοῦτο γὰρ αἴτιον καὶ τοῦ πιθανωτέρους εἶναι τοὺς ἀπαιδεύτους τῶν πεπαιδευμένων ἐν τοῖς ὄχλοις, ὥσπερ φασὶν οἱ ποιηταὶ τοὺς ἀπαιδεύτους παρ’ ὄχλῳ μουσικωτέρους λέγειν (Rhetoric 1395b26–29). The other instance of ὄχλος in the Rhetoric is at 1414a9 (see below); it too seems to exhibit a somewhat negative color. Cf. Mariß 2002:292.

[ back ] 105. An alternative way of reading the τὸ μὲν … τὸ δέ clauses in Rhetoric 1413b5–6 takes ἄμφω as gathering together the graphic and the agonistic styles into a larger notion which the philosopher then considers from a different point of view. To illustrate this reading, suppose I should say: ‘a student of Latin must learn both grammar and vocabulary; for one thing is to know paradigms and another to be able to read Cicero.’ It would be incorrect to infer that the following two equations hold true: ‘to know grammar’ = ‘to know paradigms’ and ‘to know vocabulary’ = ‘to be able to read Cicero’. (Knowing paradigms would be a subset of knowing grammar, while knowing vocabulary simply would not correspond to being able to read Cicero.) My point would be, rather, that merely knowing paradigms bespeaks a limited linguistic ability, while a proficient grasp of both grammar and vocabulary confers a working knowledge of the language. Note that neither grammar nor vocabulary by itself would suffice. As an alternative to the reading I have defended above, one could argue that something similar happens here: just as the knowledge of both styles, graphic and agonistic, would equip the orator successfully to address an audience, failure to master either would prevent him from doing so. To paraphrase Aristotle’s point: ‘For one thing is to know how to speak correct Greek; another to be able successfully to communicate (and, presumably, to persuade) an audience, avoiding the need to keep silent because one lacks the requisite skills.’ When he uses τὸ μὲν … τὸ δέ, the philosopher often specifies what each points to by making them follow a genitive (e.g. Categories 4b20, Nicomachean Ethics 1109a33, Metaphysics 1072b3, Politics 1334b20, or De respiratione 471a8) or by having ἐν + dat. indicate their sphere of reference (e.g. On Generation and Corruption 317a23); at least once, τὸ μὲν … τὸ δέ merely stand in apposition (Metaphysics 1065a21). What has misled interpreters of Rhetoric 1413b5–8 is the (otherwise natural) assumption that the referent of μὲν … δέ is ἄμφω; and that since ἄμφω (to put it schematically) is made of the explicitly mentioned ‘X’ and ‘Y’, τὸ μέν must equal ‘X’, τὸ δέ, ‘Y’ (or vice versa). It would then be as if the philosopher had written: ἄμφω δὲ ἀνάγκη εἰδέναι· ὧν τὸ μὲν … τὸ δέ. But no ὧν is implied and τὸ μέν may be rendered as ‘one thing’, while τὸ δέ, as ‘another thing’. Aristotle could have written τὸ μὲν … ἄλλο δέ or τὸ μὲν … ἕτερον δέ: but perhaps he did not because this might have conveyed too sharp a contrast between speaking correct Greek and being able to speak to an audience in public address. (Note, for example, the ἓν μὲν … ἕτερον δὲ … ἄλλο δέ in Politics 1291b18–19, where the various categories do not overlap.) After all, we take for granted that proficient public speakers will be linguistically competent. One clear instance of τὸ μὲν … τὸ δέ which does not pick up on anything explicit that immediately precedes them is Sophistical Refutations 181b9–10: ‘If one thing is good and another evil (εἰ τὸ μέν ἐστιν ἀγαθὸν τὸ δὲ κακόν), it is true to call them good and evil’ etc. τὸ μέν and τὸ δέ do not respectively point to anything in the immediate context: they must be translated simply ‘one thing’ and ‘another thing’. So also, according to this alternative reading, in Rhetoric 1413b5–8: ‘One thing is to speak good Greek; another, not to be forced to keep silent’ etc. The general sphere of reference, were it to be made specific, would have to be expressed somewhat along the lines of τὸν γὰρ καὶ ἐξετάζειν καὶ ὑπέχειν λόγον καὶ ἀπολογεῖσθαι καὶ κατηγορεῖν ἐγχειροῦντα with τὸ μέν … τὸ δέ (cf. Rhetoric 1354a5–6). A paraphrase might run thus: τὸ μὲν γάρ ἐστιν τὸν καὶ ἐξετάζειν καὶ ὑπέχειν λόγον καὶ ἀπολογεῖσθαι καὶ κατηγορεῖν ἐγχειροῦντα ἑλληνίζειν ἐπίστασθαι, τὸ δὲ πιθανῶς καὶ σαφῶς μεταδοῦναι τοῖς ἄλλοις ἐπίστασθαι (or πιθανῶς καὶ σαφῶς μεταδοῦναι τοῖς ἄλλοις οἷόν τε εἶναι). The alternative construction ἔστιν μὲν … ἔστιν δέ would have made a poorer choice; for it would only make marginal sense to write: ‘it is possible, on the one hand, to know how to speak correct Greek; and possible, on the other, not to have to keep silent’ etc. ‘Not to have to keep silent’ may well be a possible scenario, but, strictly speaking, an inability rather than a possibility. I should make clear that I consider this alternative interpretation inferior to the one I have propounded above, although effectively its meaning is much the same. I only offer it to my reader here to underline the fact that there is very little to recommend joining the consensus on this passage of the Rhetoric.

[ back ] 106. A fact already recognized by Sonkowsky 1959: “The styles are a pair of ideal classifications; [Aristotle] recognizes a relative scale between them, along which, presumably, the two could be mixed together in varying degrees” (260–261). So also O’Sullivan 1992: “The two styles to be considered are, of course, the ‘written’ and the ‘unwritten’, but I use the quotation marks advisedly. For they are, in a sense, purely nominal designations, indicating tendency rather than method of presentation” (43). And, more recently, Schloemann 2000: “[Aristoteles] stellt Lesen … und öffentliche Rhetorik gegeneinander. Es ist dadurch nicht gesagt, daß die öffentlichen Reden auf der Ebene der Produktion mündlich sind … . Auch Reden im agonistischen Stil können schriftlich konzipiert sein” (209).

[ back ] 107. Cf. Rhetoric 1354a6–7.

[ back ] 108. Cf. Rhetoric 1354a7–11.

[ back ] 109. Cf. the use of τὰ ῥητορικά at 1375a8 and 1414a12 with Grimaldi 1980:314.

[ back ] 110. In other words, it is an error to think of τὰ ὑποκριτικά as the stylistic devices and strategies of the agonistic style, as if the graphic featured analogous τὰ ἀναγνωστικά (it does not). (Graff 2001:21 goes even further and mistakenly identifies the agonistic style with τὰ ὑποκριτικά.) Since all genera are performed and all styles are conceived with a view to delivery, τὰ ὑποκριτικά denotes the entire collection of stylistic devices and strategies that an orator can choose from in order to suit the subject and setting of his address. The clarity and persuasiveness that various stylistic devices and strategies are capable of in performance are unequally devitalized when deprived of delivery. So also is the subset of them peculiar to a given style denaturalized when employed unchanged in the wrong setting (the agonistic, in the setting proper to the graphic, and the graphic, in the setting proper to the agonistic).

[ back ] 111. That is, by reason of the expressive strategies characteristic of each genus, of the devices to which each of them typically resorts as well as in what manner, with what frequency, etc. it does so.

[ back ] 112. Bonitz 1870:285 s.v. ἔργον: “hoc discrimen in usu voc[is] ἔργον ita est conspicuum, ut modo operae et actionis notionem complectatur, modo ipsum opus effectum significet … .”

[ back ] 113. Graff (2001:21) is therefore wrong to assume that “by ‘reading’ Aristotle here … means a reading aloud, but presumably one lacking the dramatic vocal and gestural accompaniments of full hupokrisis.” Unless, of course, by “full hupokrisis” he means the delivery peculiar to the agonistic style. If so, this would then be a trivial observation, for no one would expect Aristotle to recommend an agonistic delivery for a graphic style. He is also wrong to wedge apart the goal of delivery from those stylistic qualities that make for easy reading: “Aristotle’s account here [sc. at Rhetoric Ⅲ.8.6] emphasizes the benefits to the reader. That Aristotle is thinking here not of the delivery of a speech, but rather its reading (aloud but conceivably to oneself) is unambiguous. No fourth-century Greek would deliver (ὑποκρίνεσθαι) a speech from a piece of papyrus before the assembly or even in court” (Graff 2000:198–199, his emphasis). The issue whether a speaker’s explicit show of dependence on a script was culturally acceptable or not in a particular social setting is a red herring. Quite apart from the undeniable benefits that a proper style would provide to the reader of lightly punctuated scriptio continua, it should be obvious that a script that does not make for a fluent and intelligible reading aloud, when adequately internalized for delivery, would neither make for a fluent and intelligible vocal performance. Hence Aristotle’s explicit equation at 1407b11–12 between written material that is εὐανάγνωστον (‘easy to read [aloud]’) and εὔφραστον (‘easy to give oral expression to’). Note that this last comment occurs in the section on ἑλληνίζειν, a subject that, for Aristotle, indisputably concerns the linguistic competence of oral expression. Cf. Graff 2001:28.

[ back ] 114. Alternatively, one might conjecture that, at least for some of these speeches, their own dramatic context was agonistic and that, if judged accordingly, they appeared meager. If so, at any rate, fans of Khairemon’s works cannot have felt this fact as a serious blemish.

[ back ] 115. Without Kassel’s emendation, οἱ μέν at b14 must refer to the poets (cf. οἱ ἀναγνωστικοί at b12); τῶν γραφικῶν (b15) in turn must either refer to the poets too (‘and side by side, those of the graphic [class of poets] …’) or else, rather more likely, to their dramas (τῶν γραφικῶν [δραμάτων], i.e. ‘those poets who compose graphic dramas’; cf. b11). With Kassel’s καὶ παραβαλλόμενοι ⟨οἱ λόγοι⟩ οἱ μὲν τῶν γραφικῶν (as with Ross’s similar καὶ παραβαλλόμενοι οἱ μὲν τῶν γραφέων ⟨λόγοι⟩), the comparison regards the speeches, not the poets; and τῶν γραφικῶν presumably refers to the ‘graphic poets’ (γραφικοί standing for ἀναγνωστικοί). I believe that ultimately none of these alternative texts differs much in meaning from any other. (I suggest a different emendation below, §14.2 n. 129.) I am not troubled by Aristotle’s substituting the poets for what stricto sensu must be the speeches in their plays and calling them ‘thin’ in debate, although I can appreciate the inconcinnity between οἱ μὲν τῶν γραφικῶν and οἱ δὲ τῶν ῥητόρων and understand why the editors would wish to emend it away.

[ back ] 116. If one accepts ἢ τῶν λεχθέντων at 1413b16 (see the footnote immediately below), here ῥήτορες, following its common political use, must narrowly denote assembly and forensic speakers.

[ back ] 117. It is hard to know what to do with ἢ τῶν λεχθέντων at 1413b16, which Kassel brackets. I am tempted to accept it on the grounds that οἱ [λόγοι] τῶν ῥητόρων ἢ τῶν λεχθέντων nicely comprises the three rhetorical genera, which Aristotle may well be comparing in toto to the speeches found in those poets who are suitable for reading. The point would be that the layman who takes in hand a script devised for delivery before an audience cannot with an ordinary (non-dramatic) reading compensate for the missing ὑπόκρισις. Aristotle may have added ἢ τῶν λεχθέντων from a feeling that, by only writing οἱ δὲ τῶν ῥητόρων, he would appear to leave out epideictic speeches. The addition, as the superset of actually delivered speeches (‘the speeches of orators or [those] from the ones spoken [that are compared]’), would not only include οἱ τῶν ῥητόρων but also incorporate epideictic. At any rate, if one follows Kassel in excising the words, it is still possible to interpret τῶν ῥητόρων as denoting all professional public speakers comprehensively. Their speeches would still comprise all three of the standard rhetorical genera.

[ back ] 118. Aristotle subsumes all these emphases under the umbrella of ἀκρίβεια (see below).

[ back ] 119. If my reader prefers the view that the anagnostic poets and their speeches straightforwardly represent the epideictic genus, then he need only excise ἢ τῶν λεχθέντων at 1413b16 and restrict τῶν ῥητόρων at b15–16 to symbuleutic and forensic speakers. Ultimately, the alternative preferred is of no great consequence to my overall argument.

[ back ] 120. ἐπειδὰν γὰρ ὁ λόγος ἀποστερηθῇ τῆς τε δόξης τῆς τοῦ λέγοντος καὶ τῆς φωνῆς καὶ τῶν μεταβολῶν τῶν ἐν ταῖς ῥητορείαις γιγνομένων, ἔτι δὲ καὶ τῶν καιρῶν καὶ τῆς σπουδῆς τῆς περὶ τὴν πρᾶξιν, καὶ … ἀναγιγνώσκῃ δέ τις αὐτὸν ἀπιθάνως καὶ μηδὲν ἦθος ἐνσημαινόμενος ἀλλ’ ὥσπερ ἀπαριθμῶν, εἰκότως, οἶμαι, φαῦλος εἶναι δοκεῖ τοῖς ἀκούουσιν.

[ back ] 121. This observation is true regardless of how one construes the relation of the epideictic genus to the anagnostic poets and their speeches.

[ back ] 122. Sonkowsky (1959:261) observes: “The technical term lexis graphikē must not be confused with graphomenos logos, which means ‘a speech that is written down.’ Speeches in the lexis agōnistikē can also be graphomenoi.”

[ back ] 123. For a concise classification of ἀκρίβεια according to its various uses, see Grant 1885:452 ad Nicomachean Ethics 1.7.18 1098a26–33 (cf. 1094b11–1095a13). Kurz 1970 offers a foundational study of the concept down to Aristotle’s time. For ‘precision’ in the stylistic context, see O’Sullivan 1992 passim (esp. 42–62); Graff 2000:53, 101–108, 171–177, and 195–198; Graff 2001; and Innes 2007:161–164.

[ back ] 124. ἀλλ’ ὅπου μάλιστα ὑποκρίσεως, ἐνταῦθα ἥκιστα ἀκρίβεια ἔνι. τοῦτο δέ, ὅπου φωνῆς, καὶ μάλιστα ὅπου μεγάλης.

[ back ] 125. Since the analysis concerns how to suit style to the various genera dicendi (cf. 1413b3–5), ὑποκριτικὴ λέξις is best rendered as ‘suited to the portrayal of ēthos and pathos that is the peculiar function of delivery’ (note ἠθική and παθητική at 1413b10). For the sake of convenience, I will use ‘histrionic’ as shorthand for the fuller, more accurate translation.

[ back ] 126. See above, §13.4 and n. 42.

[ back ] 127. Cf. Alkidamas On the Sophists §16: ὅταν γάρ τις ἐθισθῇ κατὰ μικρὸν ἐξεργάζεσθαι τοὺς λόγους καὶ μετ’ ἀκριβείας καὶ ῥυθμοῦ τὰ ῥήματα συντιθέναι, καὶ βραδείᾳ τῇ τῆς διανοίας κινήσει χρώμενος ἐπιτελεῖν τὴν ἑρμηνείαν … (‘For whenever one is accustomed to work out his speeches in detail and to put together the words with precision and rhythm, and to perfect his expression by using his mental process sluggishly …’).

[ back ] 128. Though certainty is impossible, I think that τοὺς τοιούτους are not the actors but ‘those [dramatic personae who are] such’: not all the characters of a play give the same scope to histrionic displays. In any case, whatever the identity of the elided nouns, τὰ τοιαῦτα doubtless means τὰ ἠθικὰ καὶ παθητικά and οἱ τοιοῦτοι, οἱ ἠθικοὶ καὶ παθητικοί.

[ back ] 129. If οἱ μέν stands for οἱ λόγοι, I believe that the text is best emended to καὶ παραβαλλόμενοι οἱ μὲν τῶν γραφικῶν ⟨τοῖς⟩ ἐν τοῖς ἀγῶσι στενοὶ φαίνονται (i.e. by construing the comparison as one between οἱ τῶν γραφικῶν and ⟨οἱ⟩ ἐν τοῖς ἀγῶσι). It is easy to see how the first τοῖς might have fallen out: ‘On the one hand, those [speeches that are] of the graphic ones appear thin when compared to those [used] in agōnes’.

[ back ] 130. Hence the glosses εὖ λεχθέντων in F (speakers are praised); and εὖ μὲν λεχθέντες (speeches are well delivered) in the anonymous commentary (Anonymi in artem rhetoricam commentarium, p. 221 ad loc., ed. Rabe).

[ back ] 131. Strictly speaking, it is not right to affirm that the graphic style discourages the use of frequent repetition. It would be more accurate to say that, in those social performance settings for which a relatively more graphic style is suitable, recourse to frequent repetition detracts from the effectiveness (clarity and persuasiveness) of the delivery. In such contexts a speaker would rightly disapprove of its use, and this is what is meant by ‘frequent repetition of the same in the graphic style is rightly rejected as inadequate’ (1413b19–20). As bundles of expressive devices and strategies with a view to clarity and persuasiveness formulated for performance in given social settings, styles are similar to genres and call for a comparable fit between cultural occasion (with its characteristic subject matter) and the manner of communication that obtains between a performer and his audience.

[ back ] 132. On σκιαγραφία, sometimes translated ‘shadow painting’, see Keuls 1975 [1997:107–144]; Pemberton 1976; Keuls 1978:72–87 (and the index s.v.); Rouveret 1989:24–26 and 50–59; Koch 2000:137–153; and Rouveret 2006.

[ back ] 133. Insofar as it depended for its effect on viewing at a distance, we may think of it as a sort of ‘classical impressionism.’ Besides the passage of the Rhetoric that now concerns us, Aristotle refers to it in Metaphysics 1024b23 and Protreptikos fr. 104 (Düring). Some say it is also in view in De sensu 439b20–23 and 440a29–30. Plato makes more frequent mention of it, and a list of loci can be found in Keuls 1978:78–79.

[ back ] 134. For a review of this and other passages where Plato touches on painting, see Demand 1975. Cf. Aristotle Metaphysics 1024b23, where σκιαγραφία is classed with dreams (ἐνύπνια).

[ back ] 135. Disputed matters are whether it involved several colors or just hues of one and whether the mixing was by superposition or juxtaposition. Cf. Pemberton 1976.

[ back ] 136. Cf. Johnstone 1996a.

[ back ] 137. No advantage is gained by understanding θέα literally as ‘point of view’ (i.e. not ‘opinion’ but ‘place from which one looks out’). One must extend its meaning into the realm of discourse (see immediately below).

[ back ] 138. Cf. Rhetoric I.3, esp. 1358b2–5 and b13–17.

[ back ] 139. Cf. Rhetoric 1369b31–32: δεῖ δὲ νομίζειν ἱκανοὺς εἶναι τοὺς ὅρους ἐὰν ὦσι περὶ ἑκάστου μήτε ἀσαφεῖς μήτε ἀκριβεῖς (‘One should consider definitions to suffice when they are neither unclear nor precise about each matter’). Here, ἀκριβεῖς (‘precise, exact’) seems as undesirable as ἀσαφεῖς (‘unclear’). This has troubled some, who have therefore tried to soften it by assuming an excess (i.e. not just ‘precise’ but ‘excessively precise’). Kennedy even translates it as ‘inexact’, inverting its sense, although in an accompanying footnote he explains that by ‘inexact’ he really means ‘overly technical’(!). But perhaps it is best understood in contrast to ἱκανούς: ‘sufficiency’ implies a judgment of adequacy relative to a need, while Aristotle measures ‘exactness’ with reference to an objective standard. If so, eo ipso ‘a definition that suffices’ cannot stricto sensu be objectively ‘accurate’. If one wonders how precision renders a definition inadequate, the answer must be that the philosopher judges it counterproductive, exhibiting a prolixity that inhibits, rather than facilitates, discussion: ‘But one must … not look for precision in the same way in everything, but in each case in accordance with the underlying matter, and as much as belongs to the method … . One should proceed in the same way in other cases too, so that the side issues do not overwhelm the main ones’ (Nicomachean Ethics 1098a26–33). Thus, the two adjectives joined by repeated μήτε at Rhetoric 1369b32 are not like each other: obscurity is undesirable; precision, if ideally desirable, is impractical and in the real world even counterproductive. If we avoid both the undesirable and the impractical, we end up with something that is adequate, sufficient. Cf. Nicomachean Ethics 1094b11–14: “Now we must be satisfied (ἱκανῶς) with the statement of our science, if its distinctness be in proportion to the nature of the subject matter. For exactness (τὸ ἀκριβές) is not to be expected equally in all reasonings, any more than in all the productions of art” (translation by Grant 1885:427).

[ back ] 140. Aristotle often evinces an unflattering attitude towards the promiscuous multitudes. In a crowd one is bound to find some individuals who cannot be persuaded even with the most exact knowledge, and on this account the speaker must resort to what is commonly held (Rhetoric 1355a24–29); the audience is presumed incapable of reasoning from a distant point and of arriving through many stages at a comprehensive view (1357a3–4); the judge is assumed to be a simple man (1357a11–12); maxims are of great help because hearers are vulgar (1395a32–b2); the uninstructed are more persuasive with the crowd than the educated (1395b26–28); a proem’s raison d’être is to address remarks outside the argument to the base hearer (1415b5–9); the weakness of the audience makes lengthy interrogation inadvisable (1419a18).

[ back ] 141. Cf. Rhetoric 1356b26–28.

[ back ] 142. Cf. Rhetoric 1356a1–4.

[ back ] 143. I think it is in that sense that Rapp (2002:2.940) writes ad Rhetoric 1414a8–9: “Das ist eine der wenigen Stellen, an denen Aristoteles andeutet, dass die besonderen Bedingungen der öffentlichen Rede auf Seiten der Zuhörer nicht nur aus den intellektuellen Unzulänglichkeiten der einzelnen Zuhörer … herrühr[en], sondern auch aus den besonderen massenpsychologischen Umständen öffentlicher Reden.”

[ back ] 144. When the peculiar nature of the imprecision that σκιαγραφία metaphorically represents is not understood, interpreters are not able to explain why precision would be not just wasted effort but, in actual fact, worse.

[ back ] 145. If one should ask why Aristotle does not also assimilate the dicanic style to a σκιαγραφία, the reason must be that it is susceptible of comparatively greater precision. This is so, first, because its subject matter deals with the factual past and not the uncertain future (1358b13–17; cf. 1354a26–28) and is therefore inherently more precise. And, second, because the judge’s own welfare is not immediately implicated by the judicial proceedings and, for this reason, his viewpoints, convictions, and proclivities are more immediately relevant to, and more likely to be engaged by, the stylistic shape of the argument. The unprincipled orator may seek to exploit the more precise stylistic fit of the delivery to the audience by speaking off subject. Precisely this scenario is in view at 1354b31–1355a1: yet one must not take this passage as Aristotle’s considered opinion about the proper working of judicial rhetoric; nor infer from it what rhetorical practice, including style, he would advocate. If his disheartening assessment of a jury’s propensity for unscrupulous behavior (οὐ κρίνουσιν 1355a1) might be taken to imply that the speaker should adopt a singularly emotional delivery, this per se does not make the dicanic style less precise than the demegoric. One should also note that Aristotle himself ascribes to both the symbuleutic and the forensic settings audiences whose judgment is obscured by love, hate, and personal interest (cf. 1354b8–11). At any rate, the converse of Aristotle’s dim view of actual forensic rhetorical practice is the promise of securing a more effective hearing before an audience by a more precise stylistic fit. A final thought: the adverb παντελῶς hints perhaps that after all the metaphor of ‘shadow painting’ is also applicable to the dicanic style, only in a less ‘absolute’ sense.

[ back ] 146. Cf. Rhetoric 1358b10–11. Rightly, Kassel ad loc. contra Ross, Roemer, and others.

[ back ] 147. Rhetoric 1358b3–5.

[ back ] 148. Just as a more emotional style—a style, therefore, toward the agonistic end of the stylistic spectrum (cf. 1413b9–10)—may entail more of a given device (at 1408b10–12, for example, the use of compound words, more epithets, and unfamiliar terms). On ἀκρίβεια and stylistic concision see O’Sullivan 1992:44.

[ back ] 149. ἔτι δὲ μᾶλλον ἡ ⟨ἐν⟩ ἑνὶ κριτῇ (1414a11).

[ back ] 150. Aristotle cannot mean that there is no ἀγών between opponents at law, for that controversy remains, whether there be one judge or many. That members of the jury did not in any formal way debate each other and that they voted immediately upon the close of the arguments is immaterial. Quite apart from the fact that individual jury members could, and probably did, speak to those seated nearby, their yelling approvingly or disapprovingly (as the case may be) as well as shouting out their reactions and engaging in other forms of disturbance—practices that speakers often complained about—should more than suffice to motivate Aristotle’s view that forensic debate (the ἀγών of trial) was not to be restricted to the opposing arguments of defendant and plaintiff. Either party must have keenly felt the divergent pull of competing interests espoused, and convictions held, by diverse members of their audience. It would have been in their best interest to seek to gratify, and to avoid antagonizing, any jury member. The ensuing pull of potentially contradictory impulses must have been felt an essential element of the agonistic setting. This pull would be absent in a lawsuit before a single judge.

[ back ] 151. I follow Kassel’s text and understand ἡ δίκη (for ἡ κρίσις) as the implicit subject of ἐστιν with adverbial ἐλάχιστον: ἐλάχιστον γάρ ἐστιν [ἡ δίκη, i.e. ἡ κρίσις] ἐν ῥητορικοῖς. ῥητορικά are ‘rhetorical devices and strategies’, broadly understood (cf. 1375a8). For the superlative neuter singular ἐλάχιστον effectively used as an adverb, cf. Aristotle Historia animalium 494b15–16 and Meteorologica 343b21–22. To judge from his translation, Kennedy also understands the syntax thus. An alternative construal with ἐλάχιστον as the subject largely yields the same meaning: ‘For [then] there is least [sc. scope or efficacy vel sim.] in rhetorical devices’.

[ back ] 152. Innes (2007:162–163) suggests that the historical background to Aristotle’s ‘trial by one judge’ is the process of arbitration (see her references ad loc. and Todd 1993:123–125, 128–129, also with bibliography). This is certainly possible, for although the term for ‘arbitrator’ was διαιτητής (not δικαστής) it not only seems reasonable to subsume him under the more general figure of a κριτής, and the arbitration procedure, under δίκη (so in Athēnaiōn Politeia 53.2), but Aristotle himself in De caelo 279b10–12 writes that ‘those who intend to judge the truth adequately must be arbitrators and not legal adversaries’ (καὶ γὰρ δεῖ διαιτητὰς ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἀντιδίκους εἶναι τοὺς μέλλοντας τἀληθὲς κρίνειν ἱκανῶς). This shows that the terminology was flexible enough to subsume under the respective labels of ‘judge’ and ‘trial’ the figure of the ‘arbitrator’ and the procedure of ‘arbitration’. Add to this the fact that Athens featured forty magistrates (οἱ δικασταὶ οἱ κατὰ δήμους Athēnaiōn Politeia 48.5; cf. Demosthenes 24.112) who could render summary judgment in cases that involved small sums (Athēnaiōn Politeia 53.1; cf. Todd 1993:129). These too could be added to the historical background, if one be needed, behind the philosopher’s one-judge δίκη. I do not think, however, that Innes is correct to infer the absence of ἀγών from ‘arbitration’. The very fact that it was subsumed under ἡ δίκη argues otherwise. At any rate, it is also possible, with Rapp (2002:2.937), to consider the absence of ἀγών simply a Gedankenexperiment that allows Aristotle to demonstrate what is peculiar to the forensic setting vis-à-vis the demegoric. This ideal setting shows all the more clearly why the dicanic style is relatively more precise.

[ back ] 153. Cf. in this connection Innes 2007:162–163, who draws attention to Quintilian Institutio oratoria 11.1.44, a passage that “ridicules the idea that the orator might speak overwhelmed by emotion ‘in minor matters and minor cases … speaking seated before an arbitrator’” (her ellipsis).

[ back ] 154. Even though in my reading εὐσύνοπτον at 1414a12 regards not the judge but the speaker, the mere fact that it is used at all marks the conceptual distance traveled from Rhetoric 1357a3–4 and hints at the truth of Rapp’s surmise that here Aristotle has in mind “ein einziger (vernünftiger; vgl. 1354a34–b1) Richter” (Rapp 2002:2.937).

[ back ] 155. I do not mean to revalidate the dichotomy between ὑπόκρισις and λέξις that I have labored to refute in this book; nor to vindicate a hard dualism of form and substance. My point is only one of relative emphasis. For Aristotle, persuasion through character and emotion can, and ideally does, regard the interests of truth and corresponds to the facts of the case.

[ back ] 156. Cf. Rapp 2002:2.939 and Innes 2007:162 with n. 41.

[ back ] 157. Cf. Kurz 1970:128 and Barnes 1994:190.

[ back ] 158. Cf. Metaphysics 982a25–28 and 1078a9–14.

[ back ] 159. The consensus tacitly equates τὸ ἀλλότριον [τοῦ πράγματος] to τὰ ἔξω τοῦ πράγματος.

[ back ] 160. To vindicate the claim one has to assume that the judge, because he is one, is eo ipso more proficient, perceptive, skillful, etc., an assumption for which there is no motivation other than the need to rescue the otherwise flawed reading.

[ back ] 161. This approach meets Innes’s desideratum (2007:162) that Rhetoric 1414a10–11 not move from stylistic precision to precision of argument. And because it does not equate τὸ ἀλλότριον [τοῦ πράγματος] with τὰ ἔξω τοῦ πράγματος it does not appear inconsistent with (or contradictory to) Rhetoric I.1 (1354b27–1355a1), an appearance that Rapp (2002:2.936) probes: in this passage, Aristotle regards speaking off subject less serviceable in assembly than in the law-court because members of the former have personal interest in the matter under discussion while ordinarily jurymen do not. If the exclusion of τὰ ἔξω τοῦ πράγματος is the exclusion of the ἀλλότριον [τοῦ πράγματος], and the latter exclusion makes rhetorical style more exact, then one expects the demegoric style to be more precise than the dicanic, because ex hypothesi it will have less frequent recourse to (the, for the setting, less serviceable) speaking off subject. This inference seems confirmed by 1355a2–3: ‘There [sc. in the assembly] the judges themselves sufficiently look to this [sc. precluding the speaking off subject]’. But the facts are the inverse of this expectation. Note that the use of οἰκείων at 1354b30 and ἀλλοτρίων at 1354b33 regards a standard (of judgment) and a point of view identical to the ones I claim for the statement in 1414a12–13: they have in view what pertains or does not pertain to the κριτής—only, here the sphere is the subject matter, not the speaker’s stylistic practices.

[ back ] 162. I.e. εὐσύνοπτον [sc. τῷ λέγοντι vel sim.] Cf. Politics 1323b6–7.

[ back ] 163. On the text of 1354b29, see Grimaldi 1980:17.

[ back ] 164. This proves that the absence of agōn at 1414a13 cannot refer to the judge’s freedom from prejudice on the grounds of his lack of personal involvement in the matter at issue.