The Gaslight Effect: How to Spot and Survive the Hidden Manipulation Others Use to Control Your Life
Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence–from Domestic Abuse to Political Terror
The Supper of the Lamb: A Culinary Reflection (Modern Library Paperbacks)
Things I Have Learned: Chapel Talks
Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day: The Discovery That Revolutionizes Home Baking
October 8th, 2007
Told ya!
See? I knew this blogging thing was good. After pomo scholarship has driven the Academy to talk so incomprehensibly, we need a little push to take it to the streets.
I still can’t figure out why so many people rage against blogging in general. My kneejerk reaction seems to be the only one that sticks– it’s simply out of the control of the Powers that Be. No different than that troublemaker Gutenberg. Imagine the unmitigated gall to distribute such dangerous things as Holy Writ in the vernacular and some random laundry list of an angry man’s complaints! Indeed. [/sarcasm]
Preachers have been blogging in the pulpit for millenia. <shrug> About political candidates. Favorite foods. Supreme Court decisions. The IRS. Even silly email jokes. Do I mind? Not really. . . . As long as we all understand the difference between the Word and human words. I don’t know that we do see the difference. Blogging, in fact, features that frail, transient quality to humanity and our ideas. Putting human ideas on a pedestal among stained glass and pipe organs makes it harder to tell who is Who.
Blogging is irritating, too, because for the Powers that Be a response is very difficult to construct. How did Vladimir Lenin put it?
Why should I respond to Kautsky? If I did that, the Kautsky would respond to my response, and then I would have to respond to his response, and so on. All I have to do is say that Kautsky is an enemy of the people, and everyone will understand everything.
Yes, it’s easier to just say that a blog post is simply not true or dangerous and expect the rank-and-file supplicant to believe the Powers’ words as God’s. Thankfully, that ain’t gonna cut it anymore.
My major professor urged us toward a productive criticism. That was his name for taking scholarship to the streets. I tried that. I don’t know that it worked. Touché. Since I’m not an Aristotelian, effectiveness is not my highest priority. But I knew even when I was defending that thing 6 years ago that I was prescribing to my own subculture as much as describing. And as soon as it was actually read — as soon as I took it to the streets – I was no longer an insider.
It’s coming out in a few weeks here, and the date has pushed me toward a lot of self-reflection. About the rhetoric of the sage and the prophet. Insider vs. outsider. Esther vs. Deborah. The metanarratives of ungrace and grace.
[tags]Blogging, Robert Ivie, rhetorical criticism, Prophetic discourse, Liminal rhetoric[/tags]
October 9th, 2007
hmcneely Says :
I know this is entirely off topic; rest assured I did read the entirety of your post. Thanks for linking to Dial “M” one of my favorite nerdy musicology blogs! See, even if we musicologists can’t function quite normally in social settings, at least we can blog.
October 12th, 2007
The Bard Says :
I love the cite to Lenin. There’s nothing better than when the bad guys are cooperative enough and honest enough to say what they really think. Too bad they don’t do it more often.
October 12th, 2007
The Bard Says :
Sorry about all the italics above. While the Power have a had time handeling blogs, I have a harder time handling computer stuff
Would you care to expand on the prophet/sage, Esther/Deborah dichotomy (although you don’t like the word) ? I’m not fully sure I follow you. Are you making a judgment between them and comparing one to ungrace? That seems a hard case to make when both women are heroes of the faith.
October 12th, 2007
cklewis Says :
Oh no. . . . those pairs are just pairs that are racing through my head right now. I would most certainly not say that any of those biblical themes/tropes are ungraceful.
The sage is the rhetor. You remember Vico, of course. That was his ideal. Solomon is our quintessential example. My brother (whom I credit for explaining these distinctions to me) recently showed me how James was a NT sage. I’ve spent my adult life studying the sage’s way.
And Esther is also an exemplar. I mean, inviiting the guy to dinner twice before getting to the point? Talk about gentle!
The prophet is, in many ways, the opposite. Instead of living in the culture to nudge it along, the prophet stands outside, only to appear every now and then with some excoriating rebuke. He preaches repentance and redemption. Think Isaiah & Jeremiah (of course). Even Paul in Romans and Galatians. Martin Luther. Jonathan Edwards.
And in the discipline of rhetoric, Deborah has been posited as Esther’s opposite — the prophet to her sage. She was blunt, masculine, and conclusive as compared to Esther’s supplicant role.
I got into a lot of heated arguments in my grad school days defending my religious tradition. I insisted that being a Deborah wouldn’t change anything. You had to be an Esther — that change would only come when you whisper in the king’s ear (like Christine de Pisan).
I was wrong. So that’s what I’m thinking about. Trained to be a sage, but finding my voice sounding more prophetic. Putting all my chips on the Esther persona, only to find Deborah really the “winner.”
I got my advance copy of my book. There it sits. Kinda quiet. Pretty. . . . with Vashti on the cover. But just quiet. It makes me sentimental. I started that book with my daughter in my tummy and finished it as busy work to distract me away from my grief after her death. I edited and submitted it with Gavin in my tummy. Just layers of sentiment. Sigh. . . .
October 14th, 2007
The Bard Says :
I have to smile at the idea of Deborah as a “rhetorician.” While I do see speech as action, I still think there is a difference between the pen and the sword. Besdies her hymn of victory, do we ever have much from what she said besides getting ready for war?
Inside or outside, sage or phophet, to me it is a prudential decision that depends on the times, the audience, the skills of the speaker, and above all the Spirit. Either one can be ideal, and either one can be abused or a cloak for other flaws (e.g., the Prophet can really just be an angry crank, or the Sage a coward). Sometimes we are both at once. Some folks will only listen to a Sage; others need to be rattled by a Prophet.
In law school I found myself playing both roles. I would try and be gracious and win the respect of my peers, and perhaps cloak my philosophy and ask questions in hope someone would start thinking. Yet I also wanted to stand outside the dominant culture of the legal profession and have no part in it.
Whatever his ideal, Vico’s final point was how “nature and life are full of uncertainty, and the chief end of all of our arts, of which rhetoric is one, is to see that we have acted wisely.” That is all we have. We cannot always be sure our chosen voice is the right one. On one hand, a voice isn’t “wrong” just because it doesn’t work. One the other, something not working tells us something. That’s hard for me to say, because most of the time I just want to win, and I look for a voice that will help me do that. But, winning is neither within my power nor up to me. That is why we have a God who is powerful enough that our mistakes cannot derail His plans.
I do need to order and read your book.