Clarity and Deception
In Book Three of the Rhetoric, Aristotle states that "in regard to style, one of its chief virtues (arete) may be defined as clarity (saphes). This is shown by the fact that the speech, if it does not make the meaning clear, will not perform its proper function (ergon)" (1404b). Most interpreters of the Rhetoric construe Aristotle to mean that the proper function of style is to convey the rhetor's meaning; and that clarity is the indispensable virtue and indeed the criterion of successful conveyance. Edward Cope thus writes that for Aristotle "the virtue or excellence of anything, knife, horse, or anything that can be employed as an instrument, is determined by its ergon or special function, in the due performance of which it lies. If the special function of language is to explain one's meaning, it is plain that if it fail to do that if it is not perspicuous it does not answer its intended purpose" (Cope 13). Larry Arnhart concurs that Aristotle takes "as his fundamental principle that the function of good style is to present clearly the speaker's meaning. The ultimate aim of style, then, is to convey thought; hence, it contributes to the intelligibility of rhetorical argument" (Arnhart 166).
If the purpose of style is to convey a meaning, or articulate the significance of a situation without verbal distortion, then "clarity," its criterion of success, becomes synonymous with "transparency." A style, in this construal, is like a window through which one may perceive phenomena and argument. This interpretation of Aristotle's notion of clarity has informed much subsequent rhetorical theory; for as Richard Lanham notes, the traditional rhetorical books "build upon clarity as upon a rock. Good prose stands like a well-washed window giving unto the Kingdom of Thought" (Lanham 21). In James Sutherland's ostensibly non-controversial observation, "It is good prose when it allows the writer's meaning to come through with the least possible loss of significance and nuance, as a landscape is seen through a clear window" (Sutherland 77). Indeed, the criterion of transparency is so ubiquitous that even seemingly obscure styles are defended on the basis of the same criterion. For whereas some writers such as Lanham argue that we may desire properties of style other than transparency, and who suggest that we may approve of a style because of its whimsical or innovative ornamentation, they nevertheless tend to assume that transparency remains the primary criterion of an effective style. For even a seemingly obscure or opaque style, say that of the later Heidegger or of Joyce in Finnegans Wake, must convey its meaning if it is to succeed. Such a style differs from more readily accessible styles not in its avoidance of the effective transmission of meaning; rather it differs from more conventional styles only in that the meaning it purports to convey is itself more obscure, and hence less reducible to familiar formulations.
If the proper function of rhetorical speech is to transparently transmit the rhetor's meaning, namely, his reasoned interpretation of a given situation without undue distortion or interference, then presumably Aristotle's rhetor should eschew deceptive verbal ornamentation. As Arnhart argues, Aristotle differs strikingly from the sophists, whose purpose is to confuse rather than illuminate the subject at hand. Whereas "the sophists use language to confuse their audiences, to blanket them in an impenetrable fog of verbiage and thus divert attention from the subjects under consideration, Aristotle criticizes such techniques because . . . he maintains that the aim of style is to clarify rather than to obfuscate the issues being discussed." (Arnhart 166-67). In this respect, Aristotle's notion of clarity seems consistent with Socrates' assertion in the Phaedrus that the rhetor must have a clear apprehension of the subject matter, and that he must convey this apprehension clearly and without distortion to his listeners (Phaedrus 277e). Aristotle's account of clarity, like Plato's, thus seems normative, and indeed ethical: clarity is a criterion for a virtuous as well as successful style; and a style will achieve its goal, that of accurately communicating the facts of a situation, because it is clear.
But if Aristotle seems to hold that clarity is a virtue, and indeed a criterion, of the accurate, undistorted transmission of the significance of a given situation, he continues in his opening paragraph on style to assert something which directly contradicts this construal of rhetorical clarity. For he states that clarity is not a quality which is achieved through articulation of the situation as it really is; but that clarity is itself achieved through artifice. "Wherefore, those who practice this artifice," he writes, "must conceal it and avoid the appearance of speaking artificially instead of naturally; for that which is natural persuades, but the artificial does not. Art is cleverly concealed when the speaker chooses words from ordinary language and puts them together like Euripides who was the first to show the way" (1404b). Aristotle adds that "if a speaker manages well, there will be something distinctive (xenikon) about his speech, while possibly the art may not be detected, and his meaning will be clear. And this, as we have said, is the chief power of rhetorical language" (10404b, italics added). In this context, clarity is not a property of style which indicates that the rhetor has avoided artifice in his articulation of a given situation; rather, clarity emerges as a kind of illusion, itself the product of a deception so pervasive and devious that the very apparatus of artifice the rhetorical art is concealed.
And when Aristotle proceeds to examine concretely the art of rhetorical style, he stresses that the rhetor should not minimize his use of tropes or figures of speech in order to attain "clarity" but that he should become a master of the extensive repertoire of tropes-- metaphors, similes, paradoxes, proverbs, hyperboles-- if he is to achieve his rhetorical end. Indeed, it is metaphor, which for Aristotle comprises what we distinguish as various tropes, which above all affords clarity to style (1405a). Aristotle's concrete examination of style seems so radical a departure from his apparent contention that the function of rhetorical style is to unobtrusively transmit accurate interpretation and reasoned argument, that several theorists have argued that much of Book III is an unrelated and even inauthentic text. Eugene Ryan, referring to recent discussions of the authenticity of Book III, argues that "how one answers the question whether Book III is a separate treatise or not to a great extent determines how he will interpret the book. Those who think it an independent work regard it as a congeries of views about public speaking, or more likely about prose in general, with no special concern for the subjects included under the rhetorical method; they think of it as being rather like a phenomenology of the methods Aristotle had seen to be effective among speakers and prose writers" (Ryan 153-54).
The Window and the Bell
In, order to resolve this apparent contradiction between construing clarity as a criterion of undistorted style and, in contrast, as a deception which results from the skillful manipulation of verbal tropes, I suggest that Aristotle offers two distinct notions of clarity or saphes in the Rhetoric. Each of these notions may be found in the definition of the term saphes itself, for saphes is defined with both a visual and an auditory metaphor: it means both that which is "apparent" and that which is "distinct." The first notion, as I have noted, is that of transparency, wherein the rhetor conveys his meaning, or reasoned interpretation of a situation, in as undistorted a manner as possible. But this construal of clarity, I suggest, fails to reveal Aristotle's second, more fundamental notion, one which is grounded in "distinctness." In this second construal, the rhetor is able to achieve "clarity" when he renders his style clear of other styles; when, that is, he is able to displace them as locations from within which one is able to apprehend and interpret a situation. Achieving clarity means becoming clear of competing styles, as in a forest of competing voices or texts. The clear style is not like a window; it is like a bell, whose peal is heard above the din of other, less resounding noises.
In this construal, each style is a means of "cutting away" other formulations; of demarcating a place that is clear, a topos or domain of topoi for oneself among competing articulations. Through the establishment of topoi, which are themselves derived from the tropes of his style, the rhetor locates himself in a discourse, among opposing styles and their respective modes of placement. Rhetorical clarity becomes not a criterion of how well a style conveys the facts or meaning of a given situation; rather, clarity is an indication of how completely the rhetor has distinguished himself from and effectively displaced those alternative, opposing loci. For rhetorical style is not a means for transparently articulating preexisting truths about or interpretations of a situation; it is, rather, an apparatus for establishing and amplifying places, within which one may perceive a situation. The rhetor does not place himself vis a vis a "reality," one which exists somewhere beyond discourse. Rather, he places himself among other styles, texts, or articulations; and it is within that place that he begins to articulate his perceptions of "reality."
A rhetorical style, therefore, is not clear because it accurately conveys any "subject matter," phenomena, or data; for in the domain of rhetoric depicted in this second formulation, there is no "subject matter" which can be accurately "perceived" prior to its articulation in a style. There are no "facts" apart from the rhetor's formulation of them in his style. The demarcation of a location is not dependent upon an accurate or transparent articulation of a situation. Unlike Plato, who posits a reality which exists prior to its formulation in discourse, Aristotle argues that the domain of rhetoric is one in which "facts" are themselves the result of discursive formulations. Whether the context is deliberative, forensic or epideictic, there is no pre-existent "world" to perceive through a window; there is no such thing as "how things really are." Rather, the rhetor's task in using style is to make it appear that such an independent "subject" really exists; and that the listener is really seeing the relevant facts without bias and distortion.
As an apparatus of placement and displacement, rhetorical style is comprised of a repertoire of tropes or figures of discourse. These tropes enable the rhetor to articulate the fundamental places or topoi within which the rhetor and his audience may dwell, and from which he may fabricate arguments. A style is of primary importance in rhetoric precisely for this reason: it precedes the use of arguments by which most people believe themselves to be convinced. It is thus in the style itself, its particular selection and arrangement of tropes, that the most fundamental assumptions or biases are constituted and concealed. The tropes, or verbal maneuvers, precede the development of arguments; for arguments can be developed only within the available topoi, and the topoi are in turn the products of the accepted tropes. The tropes do not serve merely to elaborate literal truths, for in the domain of rhetoric there is no "literal" language which is recognizable by its adherence to the "truth." Rather, a rhetorical style appears "natural" or apparently "literal" in respect to its familiarity to the audience, and to what it accepts as the conventional ways of speaking.
The rhetor thus effects his clearing not by eschewing figuration or tropes; rather he achieves an opening or aperture for himself and his audience by deploying powerful or persuasive tropes, and thereby leading his audience to adopt and begin to think with those instruments. He thereby leads his audience to consider the styles of his rivals, their tropes and topoi, to be opaque and obscure. The rhetor does not use the tropes to illuminate or convey a preexisting meaning or truth to his listeners, but employs metaphor, simile, paradox and other tropes to delineate the places from which the listener is able to apprehend what he takes for "reality." His style does not become "clear" because it accurately reflects or mirrors or opens a window to reality; rhetorical discourse is in no sense a picture of the world. On the contrary, his style achieves the status of clarity insofar as it effectively displaces its rivals, and thereby usurps the sites of competing styles.
The Illusion of Transparency
But if rhetorical clarity is determined by the rhetor's ability to captivate his listeners rather than his characterization of the real significance of a situation, this does not mean that the rhetor ignores the notion of transparency. To grasp the role of transparency in rhetoric, we must turn to Aristotle's original comment on the function of rhetorical style. The function or ergon of style is not to convey the rhetor's intention or "meaning," as Cope and Arnhart insist; it is, rather, to demarcate a site within which the listener will accept the rhetor's instruments for fabricating meanings. And to this end the rhetor must effect the illusion of transparency. The rhetor must convince his listener that his style is indeed transparent; that he is not coloring the "facts" or meaning of a situation with his own biases; that his articulation is the real "window" on the situation. And the rhetor will best achieve this goal if he persuades the audience that he is speaking quite "naturally," without artifice. If he can render his style invisible, the rhetor will have captured his listeners completely.
For as Aristotle points out, no other achievement of style approaches the power of the illusion of transparency. When this is achieved and the style becomes effectively invisible, its assumptions and biases will escape the notice of the audience. That is, the listeners will become oblivious to the assumptions which are embedded in that style and which circumscribe and constitute their perceptions and judgments. They will become so completely absorbed by the style that they believe that the style presents them with the "truth." They will thereby become oblivious to the fact that they are able to perceive certain phenomena only because they have already located themselves within the places established by the rhetor's style. They will be unable to see that the very phenomena they perceive, their ability to select and to arrange what they assume are objective data, are themselves fabrications of the rhetor's deployment of tropes. The audience believes, then, that they are seeing things "clearly," and they become so enveloped in the style that they are unable to perceive beyond its tropes and topoi. The audience then believe that the perceptions it enables them to have are accurate or real, and they accept as quite commonplace the world which is fabricated by the rhetor's verbal commonplaces. The listeners thus believe that they are no longer within the domain of rhetoric; and the rhetor's achievement, in fabricating transparency, is to completely conceal the operation and scope of his art.
1. Aristotle, The Art of Rhetoric. 1967. Trans. J. H. Freese. London: Wm. Heinemann, Ltd.
2. Arnhart, Larry. Aristotle on Political Reasoning. 1981. Dekalb: Northern Illinois University Press.
3. Cope, Edward Meridith. 1973. The Rhetoric of Aristotle. New York: Arno.
4. Lanham, Richard. 1977. Style: An Anti-Textbook. New Haven: Yale University Press.
6. Plato, Phaedrus. Trans. W. C. Humbold and W. G. Rabinowitz.
5. Sutherland, James. 1937. On English Prose. Toronto.
7. Ryan, Eugene. 1984. Aristotle's Theory of Rhetorical Argumentation. Montreal: Bellarmin.