7th Chapter Part 2
7th Chapter Part 2
6 Addresser-based rhetoric
The rhetoric of text is of two types: addressee-based rhetoric and addresser-based rhetoric.
The addressee-based rhetoric is interested in the principles through which the reader can
decode the message easily and effectively and get the appropriate response intended by the
writer, e.g. the principle of end-focus, of subordination and of climax. Thus, the addressee-
based rhetoric is concerned with the reader's needs and responses. On the other hand, the
addresser-based rhetoric is concerned with the speaker's demands of encoding.
Sometimes the addressee-based rhetoric and the addresser-based rhetoric share common
things. Apparently, what is easy from the decoding point of view is also easy from the
encoding point of view. This is clear in the principle of memory which they both share as it
applies to the speaker as much as the hearer. This explains why the spontaneous, unplanned
spoken utterances tend to be loose in its structure. Other times the principles of addresser-
based rhetoric oppose that of the addressee-based rhetoric. Examples of addresser-based
rhetoric:
A. Violation of 'last is most important' principle: this principle clashes with the tendency for
the speakers to mention what is most important first because the speaker encodes the
message under pressure of time. Consequently he begins by the thing which is uppermost in
his mind, the thing he thinks is the focal point of the message, e.g. 'that dinner you cooked last
night – I really enjoyed it.' And 'Relaxation you call it'. Thus, the principle 'last is most
important' in the addressee-based rhetoric is turned into 'first is most important ' in the
addresser-based rhetoric.
B. Violation of end-focus principle: the same factor accounts from the frequent disregard of
this principle: e.g. RELAXÀTION you call it.
Although the prose writer does not have to think "on his feet", yet seeks to give the illusion of
reality in his fiction; therefore, he tries to cultivate the impression of spontaneity and vigor
which is associated with impromptu speech. This can be found in fictional dialogue, in stream-
of-consciousness narrative and in the authorial "tone of voice". It can be reflected through the
violation of the end-focus principle as in Lawrence's 'We CÀNT go back' and 'He CòULDN'T go
back to the savages', where the final part of each clause (go back, go back to the savages) is
implied by the preceding context and consequently cannot be treated as the focus of
information. This early placing of tonic stress adds to the forceful declamatory effect of the
passage speech.
Here we must touch on the iconic element of language in general. A code is iconic to the
extent that it imitates, in its signals or textual forms, the meanings that they represent. The
code of traffic signs is largely iconic: a crossroads is signalled by a cross, a narrowing road by
converging lines, etc. The maritime flag code, on the other hand, is non-iconic: there is no
connection between the color and design of a flag and the meaning (such as ‘I am altering
course to port’) which it is used to signify. One of the tenets of modern linguistics is that
language is essentially non-iconic, that the form–meaning relationship is arbitrary. It has of
course been acknowledged that language contains certain iconic elements: well-known
examples are onomatopoeic words such as cuckoo, whisper, bang. But iconicity of this kind
has been dismissed as marginal if not trivial in relation to the arbitrariness of language as a
whole. Moreover, it is by no means free from arbitrariness in itself, since the iconic values of
sounds are not wholly imitative, being constrained by the limits of the code itself. Thus they
are only suggestive of meaning in the presence of a suitable semantic stimulus: the sound
evokes, rather than directly represents, its meaning.
However, it can be urged that iconicity is inherent in language in a way that the mention of
odd words like miaow and thunder does not begin to show. Bolinger suggested that above the
word, iconicity takes a ‘quantum leap’, the syntactic relations between words characteristically
imitating relations between the objects and events which those words signify. Two important
instances of this syntactic iconicity: chronological sequencing, and juxtaposition.
Chronological sequencing:
One factor which influences ordering is the principle of chronological sequencing which says
that textual time imitates real time: that if A comes before B in the model of reality, then A
comes before B in the text. Therefore, this sentence: "The lone ranger rode off into the sunset,
mounted, and saddled his horse." is nonsensical in contrast to: "The lone ranger saddled his
horse, mounted, and rode off into the sunset."
Other iconic principles of ordering are derivable from this one. For example:
- Cause precedes effect in a text: because this is indeed the way things happen in real time:
Tom ran out of money, and had to find another job. The reversal of this sentence (‘Tom had to
find another job, and ran out of money’) means something quite different, if it means anything
at all.
- Subject precedes object: in a sentence which contains an object, the subject refers to the
agent, or causer, of the event, and the object to the person or thing which suffers the
consequences of the event.
*Iconicity is a principle, not a rule, because we can always find exceptions to its operation. In
fact the conjunction because enables the cause–effect relation to be reversed: it is in the
absence of such overt signals that the iconic principle takes over.
These preferences are to some extent built into language, for example the placing of the
subject before the object is built into the dominant S–V–O order of English clauses. Therefore,
language is in various ways an iconic mirror of reality. It is in the nature of literature to exploit
these iconic possibilities: to bring out associations between form and meaning and more
deeply to mimic or enact meaning through patterns of rhythm and syntax.
It is clear now that the textual rhetoric contributes to the 'illusion of reality'. The iconic force in
language produces an enactment of the fictional reality through the form of the text. This
brings realistic illusion to life in a new dimension: as readers we do not merely receive a report
of the fictional world; we enter into it iconically, as a dramatic performance, through the
experience of reading.
The three principles of sequencing correspond to the three kinds of fictional sequencing:
PRESENTATIONAL, CHRONOLOGICAL and PSYCHOLOGICAL sequencing. The PRESENTATIONAL
sequencing is not iconic as it is the determination of sequence by the addressee-based
considerations as the principle of climax. The CHRONOLOGICAL sequencing is iconic in the
sense that it imitates the purported sequence of events in the fictional world. As for the
psychological sequencing, it is also iconic and has been exemplified by the principle of 'first is
most important' as the syntactic order appears to represent the order in which things
spontaneously happen in the consciousness of the author. At this point, it should be noted
that the principle of psychological sequencing may be generalized to all cases where textual
order reflects the order in which impressions occur in the mind. It thus covers the imitation of
a fictional narrator’s or reflector’s thought processes, as found pre-eminently in ‘stream of
consciousness’ prose. Examples are in page 237.
7.7.2 Juxtaposition:
Another related aspect of iconicity is juxtaposition. Juxtaposition may be iconic in the sense
that when words are close in the text, they may evoke certain impression of closeness or
connectedness in the fiction – not only closeness of time, but psychological or locative
relatedness. For example, in this sentence [A schooner manned by forty men] sailed into
[Portsmouth harbour], the two noun phrases keep related things together in the sentence: the
men belong with the schooner, and the harbour with Portsmouth. However, in the following
sentence: the subject noun phrase is divided into two discontinuous parts:
Such discontinuous constructions violate the juxtaposition principle: they upset the natural
semantic connections between things. However, they are permitted in ordinary language
where they serve some other purpose like:
There were six men at the table in the lunch room eating fast with their hats on the backs of
their heads.
The men are separated from their hats by the action of eating at the table. A reader who
makes sense of this in terms of the principle of juxtaposition will treat as a constituent the
sequence ‘eating fast with their hats . . . heads’, and so will build a connection between the
two parts of this expression. The obvious connection is haste: the men are in such a hurry to
eat their dinner that they cannot spare the time to take their hats off.
He seized the nurse’s hand and shook it showing all his uneven yellow teeth in a smile.
The connection between the hand-shaking and the smile is forced by juxtaposition and
reinforced by alliteration: ‘shook . . . showing’.
But the sentence turns two cordial gestures into hostile ones by the delay of the smile to the
end. We would expect a snarl rather than a smile because of the aggressive connotations of
seize, shook and uneven teeth so that by postponing the key word smile, the author seems to
trick the reader into a wholly negative response.
The possibilities for iconicity are unlimited. It has a power like that of metaphor: it rests on the
intuitive recognition of similarities between one field of reference) and another. However, this
open-endedness is dangerous since it is too easy – as is in the case of onomatopoeia – to use
iconicity as a carte blanche for justifying private and whimsical responses.
Other forms of iconicity include the syntactic iconicity of the sentence meaning and the
syntactic iconicity of the author's modus operandi in the whole work. For example, Sterne
provides an apology for his Tristram Shandy, in which digressions triumph over the main
narrative. The syntax of this apology enacts the digressiveness by using parenthetical
constituent. However, what threatened to be incoherent turns out, in the end, to have a goal.
This is iconic on two levels: in the narrow scope of the sentence, the syntax –dramatises its
own meaning, which is that digression is both an end in itself, and also a means to the end of
advancing the fiction; and on a large scale, the syntax is an icon of the author’s modus
operandi in the whole work.
7.8 Cohesion:
The rhetoric of text controls the way in which the message is segmented into units.
Segmentation, however, implies its opposite – cohesion. The units must be implicitly or
explicitly bound together; they must not be just a random collection of sentences.
Our concern is with linear cohesion which takes place between sentences as well as within
them. There are two kinds of linear cohesion: CROSS-REFERENCE and LINKAGE. By cross-
reference we understand the various means which language uses to indicate that ‘the same
thing’ is being referred to or mentioned in different parts of the text. Linkage, on the other
hand, is the use of overt connectors: coordinating conjunctions, subordinating conjunctions,
and linking adverbials.
A: Cross-reference:
1. Definite reference:
a. Personal pronouns: he, she, it, they, etc.
2. Substitution: pro-forms, such as one, ones, do and so which substitute for other linguistic
expressions.
4. Formal repetition: repeated use of an expression (morpheme, lexical item, proper name,
phrase, etc.) already mentioned in the context.
B: Linkage
7. Linking adverbials: for, so, yet, however, therefore, for example, meanwhile, etc.
- The items listed under A1 (definite reference) are not necessarily cohesive: these items refer
to things which are in some sense contextually ‘given’, but the givenness can be supplied by
extralinguistic, as well as linguistic context. When they are cohesive, such items may be said to
co-refer to some other expression in the text.
- Cohesion is an important part of what makes a text, both in literary and non-literary writing,
but it is not always an important aspect of literary style. In literary fiction it can most often be
seen as a background to more
7.8.1 Cross-reference:
However, there are two principles of a more aesthetic kind which interfere with this maxim:
2. Principle of variety: when the reader faces too much repetition, either of lexical items or
reduced forms, he gets bored and hence writers use elegant variation. It can take the form
either of a repetition of meaning (by the use of a synonymous or almost synonymous
expression, e.g. 'sway' and 'swing') or of a repetition of reference (e.g. 'its stupendous
pedestal' referring to 'the highest of the hills'.
3. Principle of expressive repetition: it favors the use of formal repetition even where the
alternative of reduction would be possible and acceptable. Repetition is expressive in the
sense that it gives emphasis or emotive heightening to the repeated meaning. Formal
repetition can be a means of strengthening a syntactic parallelism, for example, 'A exceeds A,
as C exceeds D'.
She saw there an object. That object was the gallows. She was afraid of the gallows.
The repetition of the gallows here is striking because it appears dysfunctional in two ways: it
resists both the principle of reduction and the principle of end-focus. According to the normal
convention, the second occurrence of ‘the gallows’ cannot bear nuclear stress because it is old
information, and so the pronunciation would have to be: ‘She was afràid of the gallows’. But
by these apparent violations of textual principles, the repetition becomes doubly expressive of
the horror with which Mrs Verloc regards the image that her mind has conjured up.
e.g. p. 248
7.8.2 Linkage:
In the history of fiction writing, there has been a progressive tendency, over the past three
hundred years, to dispense with the logical connections between sentences, and to rely
instead upon INFERRED LINKAGE or simple juxtaposition. Semantically, linkage may be placed
on a scale of cohesiveness: the most cohesive signals are connectives like therefore, which
makes a fairly explicit relation between two clauses: that of reason. And, on the other hand, is
the vaguest of connectives – it might be called a ‘general purpose link’, in that it merely says
that two ideas have a positive connection, and leaves the reader to work out what it is. But the
end-point of the scale is inferred linkage, and its importance in fiction is a reflection of the
general reliance on inference in the interpretation of fictional texts.
This can be reflected by comparing any old novel with a modern one. Leech gives an example
from Buyan's The Pilgrim's Progress where the use of linking words is noticeable. This is partly
due to the historical influence of the Bible on Bunyan’s style. The stylistic value of using such
connectors is to make the text into a logically articulated discourse; little is left to the reader’s
imagination. On the other hand, this is an example of inferred linkage:
The sides of the tunnel are left rough, they impinge as an afterthought upon the internal
perfection.
The implied connection between the clauses could be made explicit by so, but this connective
would overdetermine the relation between the two ideas, which is happily left vague, so that
the connection between them is imaginatively registered.
Some writers exaggerate in relying on the inferred linkage to the extent that connections
cannot be made by a simple conjunction or an adverb. Others exaggerate in using connections,
and the abundance of cross-reference means that the style is repetitive. (e.g.p. 253).