The Principles of Letter Writing

The extent of letter-writing, as well as the principles and uses for letters, might have changed a lot over the past few centuries, but it is good to see that some things don't change. For example, I never forget to address letters to my parents with "servitude of filial veneration." They'd never forgive me if I left that out.

On a serious note, though, there are some similarities between letter writing past and present. When I was reading about the overview of the parts of a proper letter I couldn't help but be transported back to that secretarial training known as high school business courses. They might not have been labeled in such a way, but I've certainly written (and responded to) fictitious complaints and inquiries to imaginary companies with letters that had salutations, securing of goodwill, narration, petitions, and conclusions. I didn't know I was that talented. I suppose those experiments with business letter writing (and their real counterparts in actual businesses) don't match the importance of the kinds of letters envisioned by the writer of Principles of Letter-Writing, but the form is the same (or at least not significantly different) nonetheless.

Though I'm still curious about the other four parts, it was amusing to read through the examples of salutations. I am particularly taken with the teacher/pupil examples. I will now anxiously await the day when a student actually writes me a letter. And then I will pretend that instead of saying "Dear Ms. [horrid misspelling of my name]," it instead goes on about my Ciceronian charm. I suppose this shift is just another indicator that the minimum level of respect held by instructors has significantly diminished in the past several centuries. It makes me wonder what expected signs of respect teachers have left. No Ciceronian charm comments, no standing when professors enter the room...it looks as though we're about at rock bottom. I guess we've still got the title/last-name address form...for the moment anyway.

Quintilian's Quest for the Happy Medium

Since I work in the education field, I read the selection from Quintilian with great interest. While some of his ideas don't seem quite as applicable in the 21st century American school system (such as having the best teachers at the youngest ages...I don't know how professors would feel about teaching, say, kindergarten), I think I need to keep Quintilian in mind more as I respond to students' work. Many teachers give students gads of positive comments, while many others lay on the criticism (constructive or otherwise) without drawing attention to the good points of students' work. In our world now filled with scoring guides, some projects are evaluated without a single comment from the instructor. I have been guilty of all of these at times in my career thus far. So, yes, the happy medium. As teachers we need to offer advice on needed improvements, while encouraging students with positive comments. I also like Quintilian's "This is okay for this level" comment to show that the performances will not be acceptable in the future.

The thing with Quintilian's thoughts on the education system is that even though as I was reading I kept thinking, "Yeah, that makes sense..." and "Whoa, that really hasn't changed that much in a couple millenia...", there is the part of me that sees that, like the above example, this is obvious stuff every teacher should intuitively know. And maybe they do. But even for those of us who think we at least occasionally get something right in the classroom, it's good to read a respected ancient reaffirming what I think I know.

Cicero Response

When I titled this webspot "The Reluctant Rhetor," I had no idea that I would actually be spending so much time actually talking about reluctance. But I continue to be interested in (and a little amused by) the various shows of reluctance we've seen in the works of the Greeks and Romans. I assumed this was basically a thing of the past, but based on the number of questions in class that begin with something like "This is going to make me look stupid..", I don't know. Perhaps we're not that far from the ancients after all.

Seeing how consistenly hesitant these orators are makes me wonder, "Why the reluctance?" Is it simply a PR move to look modest? Perhaps it's just covering one's self just in case the speech doesn't go well? In the case of the reluctance of the elder orators compared to the eagerness of the young, it seems as though the reluctance is a simple sign of maturity and restraint.

Luckily, Cicero provides an answer to the question of reluctance in De Oratore. First off, there is the issue of silliness. Apparently there is nothing "sillier than to talk about talking," so of course a rhetor will be reluctant to do that (305). Further, an orator's modesty (as shown by reluctance) is not a disadvantage to the speaker, but rather something that bears "witness to his intergrity" (306).

So, it's good to have a bit of an explanation for this little issue that intrigues me. Perhaps next time I'll move on to something new. But don't get your hopes up.