Another Piece of the Puzzle

I’ve always enjoyed the challenge of putting together puzzles. Even now, I could spend hours with the pieces spread before me on the table, systematically sorting and assembling what would eventually turn out to be a complete picture of “something.” If it was a particularly challenging puzzle, I could look at the box cover for clues as to how the pieces should fit together. It was fun.

As I read chapter 4, I began to analyze how Common Topics and Commonplaces fits in to what I imagine to be the “big picture” of rhetoric. But as I sort through the “pieces” we’ve already read and discussed in class, I stumble a bit: puzzle pieces are a particular shape and they fit together only one way. There is no overlap. Therefore, the eventual completion of this puzzle may be at risk, for this most recent “piece” seems to overlap with last week’s discussion on stasis theory, creating an unclear boundary. As my view of rhetoric so far is very abstract, I have little idea as to what the completed picture of rhetoric will look like, thus making it difficult to start assembling the pieces. (Perhaps assembly is premature - there isn’t even a box cover to sneak a peak!)

Moving on to the heart of the discussion, I found the content of this chapter to be both interesting and thought-provoking. Once again the authors use relevant examples to demonstrate their points. Based on the text, common topics and commonplaces are clearly important when constructing an argument. The more you know about a subject, the better you can defend your position. But while commonplaces are relatively clear, I am unclear about properly utilizing the questions under the topics of conjecture, degree, and possibility as opposed to those listed under stasis theory. Are they two different approaches to achieve the same goal? Or do you attempt to find stasis, then look at the topics? I look forward to clarification on this point during tonight’s class discussion.

The “big picture” at this point for me seems to be preparation. Taking into account everything we’ve discussed in class so far: kairos, stasis, audience, etc. reminds me of a quote I heard from one of my husband’s business associates: “Proper preparation prevents piss-poor performance.” (Who doesn’t love alliteration?) We can all relate to a time when we have been less than properly prepared in a situation, whether it be class work, a work presentation, or whatever. Chances are we suffered some type of consequence in that situation. So from an argument standpoint, the ability (and effort) to look at all sides of an argument and prepare for what the opposition may throw at you would seem to put you on solid ground in an argument or debate, thus minimizing negative consequences. But as we’ve discussed in previous classes, do people actually do this in everyday life? Certainly attorneys prepare in order to prosecute or defend a case, but to they prepare for anything that could come their way or simply prepare to support their own case? I know that politicians have teams to prepare them for speeches, debates, etc., so given all this support, why do they still never provide a direct answer to the question posed? (Or would that be considered a rhetorical question?) I suppose that would be a different puzzle altogether. So as I continue to collect the puzzle pieces that rhetoric has to offer, my hope remains that the picture will eventually become clear.