Spectacle and pity
in Quintilian’s Institutio Oratoria
Book 6 is
especially significant in Institutio Oratoria because it commemorates
the recent death of Quintilian’s son. Following the personal disclosure in the
preface, Quintilian says: “I have no desire to flaunt my woes in the
public gaze nor to exaggerate the cause I have for tears”(377). Coincidentally,
the book’s subject is the rhetorical function of appealing to the emotions.
Perhaps the reason for his caution when divulging his son and wife’s deaths in
this academic text is because he is conscious that philosophers “regard
susceptibility to emotion as a vice” and consider appeal to emotion as immoral
distraction (387. However, through his use of the figures of lists, oxymoron,
and metonymy Quintilian contests the philosophical tradition and contends that
emotion and its close associate, image, can actually constitute legitimate
grounds for truth even as he acknowledges its potentially deceptive character.
Quintilian
describes the customary practice of appealing to the court’s pity with physical
exhibitions. “Blood stained swords, fragments of bone taken from the wound, and
garments spotted with blood… wounds stripped of their dressings, and scourged
bodies bared to view” serve as “cruel facts” of suffering that motivate the
court to convict the accused (403). The exhibitions reconstruct the scene of
hostility before the expectant court and implicate the jury as witnesses of the
act, such that they cannot deny the physical vestiges of suffering before their
own eyes. Quintilian uses a list structure to mimic the exposition of the array
of physical exhibitions in the courtroom, inviting the reader to participate in
the viewing of the exhibit. The parallel arrangement between the structure of
the text and the subject of the text blurs the distinction between the reader
and the court, such that the force of the exhibits is equally experienced by
the reader.
By listing the
objects sequentially, the reader conjures the exhibits in spatial contiguity,
thus emphasizing the mounting spectacle of morbidity. From left to right, the
exhibitions increase in proximity to the supposed victim’s body: the first
presented is the sword, held at length, followed by the detached bone fragment,
the garment worn on the skin, the wound, and finally culminating in the whole
body itself. Paradoxically, the spectacle becomes increasingly intimate with
each added exhibition, arousing the sympathy of the court as it suggests that
through the acts of “stripping” and “baring” of physical injury the defendant
is exposing a manifest truth. Each of the objects thus associates the physical
injury of the bearer with moral or ethical injury and thus motivates the court
to pity the accuser.
However,
Quintilian’s qualification of the exhibitions as cruel facts nearly
duplicates the bare facts afforded by a rational explication of events,
suggesting that while the exhibits appear carefully curated to elicit a
particular response they do ultimately incarnate tangible truths (403, 399).
Yet by repeating the word facts in describing rational and visual
narratives Quintilian accentuates the parallels between the two. Sensibly
speaking, a blood-stained sword no more suggests that its wielder was victim or
aggressor; a wound blights the accused or accuser equally. The deception lies
in the presentation of the exhibits rather than in the exhibits themselves, a
danger equally present in rational explication. The partial repetition of the
phrase emphasizes the change in the modifying adjective before the noun. The change
in the adjectives modifying the two instances of the word facts forces
us to carefully compare them. Bare here simply indicates unembellished
or uncovered. On the other hand, cruel is twofold: in the modern
sense it denotes a thing that willfully causes suffering or pain to another,
but it derives from the Latin crudelis, which is related to crudus,
meaning rough or raw. This lends to two conflicting interpretations. The
previous usage of cruel in the book, “the cruel tyranny of fortune,”
suggests that the word is employed in its modern sense (381). Thus, the
oxymoron “cruel facts” suggests that the exhibits glean their force from their
deceptively objective appearance though devised to arouse vicarious suffering.
However, given that the text was originally written in Latin the second sense
is more likely. It is possible that images are being qualified as raw or
authentic fact, essentially paralleling the bare facts disclosed
by the rational. As cruel facts, the visual exhibitions are authentic
yet no more impartial than oral, textual, or purportedly rational reports.
Figuring image as
constant but visual experience as refracted by the human eye helps illuminate
the justification cited above, “the cause I have for tears.” The phrase employs
metonymy since the tears represent the public’s pity. By effectively replacing
pity with tears, Quintilian reduces emotion to physical expression, thus
suggesting that emotion can be equated with embodied, subjective physical
expression. The gesture is repeated in the maxim, “there is good reason for
saying that nothing dries so quickly as tears” (401). Once again, tears are a
metonym for emotional response or persuasion through pity. The adverb quickly
emphasizes the ephemeral quality of emotion, suggesting that it decays like
organic material. This is in contrast with reason, which in the dualist
philosophical tradition is experienced through the irreducible soul, and in
line with his stipulation of tactile, embodied learning in Book 1.
If Quintilian’s
woes are to be under the public gaze then they are to be visible things.
As Quintilian reduces emotional appraisal to its physical expression, he
figures pity as both a highly visible act and contingent on visual pleas. This
associates the public gaze with public emotional appraisal. Embodied sight
enables the court to vicariously experience or conversely pierce spectacles of
suffering. By virtue that the same organ enables sight and tears there is an
immediate association between image and emotion, both grounded in the body. The
pre-emption before the metonymic phrase, “there is good reason”
justifies public emotional response as a valid and justifiable, if not
absolutely rational, approach to social truths, the undercurrents of court law.
In conclusion,
Quintilian questions the hierarchy of theoretical over embodied judgments through
list, anaphora, and metonymy. Ultimately, he contends that a disinterested
truth in the context of the court is impossible, but the body, in its appraisal
of emotion and image, brings us quite close.
Works Cited
Quintilian,
Marcus Fabius., and H. E. Butler. Institutio Oratoria. London:
Heinemann, 1920.