The Rules of Physical Spaces

I apologize for the lateness of this post.  I had intended to submit this before class, but now I am glad that I forgot because the discussion actually gave me more to think about and filled some of the holes within my understanding of the text. While discussing Roxanne Mountford's example of the pulpit as both a rhetorical and gendered space, the idea of rules implied by certain spaces was brought up in class.  The idea of children running up the steps of the pulpit was one such example of rules within certain spaces.  Likewise, the disconnect between the seriousness of the site of the World Trade Center and the lightheartedness of tourists taking pictures of themselves highlighted even further this idea of rules within certain spaces.

What I have begun to consider is the likelihood that the rules of rhetorical spaces are never really established until they are broken. Mountford discusses the pulpit as a particularly masculine space; however, I would argue that this was not the case until women started to take their own place in the pulpit.  In fact, I remember growing up around the debate concerning "women in the pulpit" (I used quotation marks because I remember hearing that exact phrase as a child--it was almost always accompanied with heads shaking in disapproval).  This was, of course, a regional debate rooted mainly in a local church which had recently hired a female pastor.  Likewise, I am reminded of the British television show, The Vicar of Dibley, in which a woman is assigned the role of vicar to a small village in England.  However, within both of these examples is the sense that, in taking their position in the pulpit, women are throwing off the larger ideas/institutions that the pulpits are associated with--the ideas and institutions which give the pulpit its rhetorical power.  Thus, the disjointedness of the feminizing of the pulpit lies within the larger power structure of Judeo-Christian beliefs.      

Suplementing the Schemas

In my opinion, Foss's schema and Peterson's schema should be used as supplements for each other.  Foss's schema seems to function best when the critic is already aware of exactly what the object is. For instance, often when we look at an object we already know what it is.  If I am in the Louvre, then I am aware of the objects themselves and what they are; thus, it is easier to jump right to the function when looking at the Mona Lisa rather than spending time determining the predetermined nature of the object.  However, oftentimes we do not know what we are looking at, like waking up in a dark room and finding yourself suddenly unable to remember the objects that now look like shadows.  Thus, it is necessary to switch to Peterson's schema 

Peterson's schema functions nicely if you are unaware of what the object is.  For instance, in our last class when we were given images to apply the schema to, but not any background information, it was too difficult to use Foss' schema.  First, we had to determine the object.  However, this of course leaves more room for the creator's intentions because it would be very easy for the critic to slip into the more obvious question.  What did the artist believe the object was?  Obviously, this can be a very difficult space to enter--especially considering that, for the most part, "the author is dead." 

Likewise, I feel that my analysis of the schema does not quite capture the difficulty of applying them.  Function is an incredibly difficult idea to pin down for any given image.  Especially if you are tied to Peterson's schema which places so much emphasis on the creator's intentions.  Likewise, it is incredibly difficult to scrutinize the function, as Foss does, if you have no context to apply to the image.  For instance, perhaps the function of war time propaganda images was incredibly successful when they were first created, but now they simply do not function or they do not function in the same way.  

D'Angelo and the Divide Between Literary Criticism and Rhetorical Criticism

D'Angelo's article, "The Rhetoric of Intertextuality," is an interesting piece because it highlights a fascinating problem that finds its roots in the divide between literary theory, and rhetorical theory.  Rhetorical studies and literary studies have had a very problematic history together, with rhetoric study scholars finding some difficulty in establishing their programs.  Thus, the entirety of D'Angelo's introduction seems to be an attempt at explaining how the use of the term and concept of "intertexuality" will not further blur a divide which seems to already be blurry.  The use of a literary studies term in order to describe a rhetoric based concept would, necessarily, cause a sense of unease in the academic community. 

D'Angelo states, "there have been few articles connecting rhetoric to intertextuality," the reason being the fact that "the term has been introduced through literary studies" (33).  It would seem that "intertextuality" would have a very obvious place within rhetorical theory, but D'Angelo attributes its absence to the divide between literary studies and rhetoric.  He also addresses the concern "that rhetorical criticism is dissolving into literary criticism or some amorphous form of criticism" (32).  Thus, it can be assumed that the divide between literary studies and rhetorical theory has made any form of helpful cross-pollination very difficult to accomplish. 

D'Angelo goes on to state that "despite their similarities, rhetorical criticism can be distinguished from literary criticism or other modes of criticism by its emphasis on the intended effect of the object of criticism on its readers, and by its emphasis on the interrelationships that exist between the text and its source or the text and its audience" (32).  Thus, D'Angelo has established that the appropriation of the term and concept of "intertextuality" has not threatened the divide between literary studies and rhetoric studies.