Thursday, January 21, 2016

Location, Location, Location

Compared to the other two groups, Stephanie’s and my map didn’t place the readings’ objects of study as much as it focused on pinpointing geographic locations that represent global sites ofrhetorical study.  Unlike Travis and Sean, I’m not a visio-spatial thinker at all (as those who’ve had the misfortune of working with me on concept map activities in other seminars well know). Since I find representing a spatial relationship between abstract concepts very difficult, the task of finding “where things are” was somewhat limited in my capacity to working within the already-established boundaries of nations and cities. Even as it may have been rooted in some of my own limitations, the method behind this decision remains rooted in the methodological and epistemological concerns of authors like Hesford, Mao, and Borrowman, and constructing the map was, I think, a useful exercise in allowing me to think about how and why location matters.

Our map took some cues from Hesford, drawing on her goal to “identify emergent trends” in rhetoric and composition so as to “argue for greater cross-reading, collaboration, and coalition building across the humanities” (788). In some ways, I think Hesford’s goal carried over into ours when Stephanie and I constructed our map. Plotting the international sites of formal study in rhetoric and communication is a crucial first step in identifying trends in that formal study; once we know where rhetorical education is happening, we can start to examine the kinds of study taking place. Looking outward to international sites of study, and listening (rhetorically) to the conversations taking place at those institutions, can help us to avoid retreating into our “disciplinary homelands” (Hesford 789). Like Travis, I at times found Hesford’s study a bit too focused on the different sources with which she was working, and the amount of examples she called on got a bit overwhelming. Thus, I think one goal of our map was to pull back a bit and focus on one question (although, as the map demonstrates, we too found numerous examples of differing kinds).

Hesford’s other goal of cross-reading and collaboration factored into our map, as well. We found multiple examples of institutional partnerships fostering international rhetorical study:  the global rhetoric courses offered by the Wallenberg Global Learning Network; the collaborative Argupolis doctoral program in Europe; and Michigan Tech’s partnership with the Peace Corps. If Hesford’s primary aim is to call for increased collaboration and encourage outward-reaching disciplinary study, then programs like these seem to be somewhat in line with that aim.

Ultimately, our map begins to answer the question of where formal study of rhetoric is taking place internationally, but it also leads to questions about that formal study proceeds. In this sense, our map invites Mao’s question: “What does the other do/in with [the study of] rhetoric, and how does the other do it?” (450). Which traditions are taught in these programs? Which works emphasized? How does advanced study of rhetoric proceed? Along similar lines, Borrowman’s emphasis on the potential for translation to form the basis of a rhetorical tradition has intrigued me. While undoubtedly, some of the programs we highlighted on our map will be taught in English, each translation of the same work carries with it the values and practices of the target language’s culture. Borrowman provides examples of this type of carrying over by pointing out that Ibn Rushd’s use of metaphors and imagery come from Arabic, rather than Greek, culture (111), and that the characterization of poetry as a type of syllogism is “a radical departure from the Aristotelian text” (107).

 Translation theory may be helpful here in understanding these alterations not as radical, but as a somewhat inherent aspect of bringing together two languages, and by extension cultures, in the same text. At least in the time period Borrowman is studying, translation was, in Nietzsche’s terms, something akin to an act of conquest; Hugo Friedrich similarly argues that “translation meant transformation in order to mold the foreign into the linguistic structures of one’s own culture” (12)*. More recently, translation has aimed to bring the reader toward the writer, purposefully maintaining the “foreignness” of the original text (Schleiermacher 46).  Regardless of the strategy used in presenting translated texts to students of rhetoric, there exists the potential for “open[ing] ourselves to how other traditions and cultures use and experience language and other symbolic means” (Mao 449). By identifying international sites of rhetorical study, we can begin to look at that study in context, resisting the Euro-American centrism Mao cautions against. Of course, as the locations of standalone rhetoric programs on our map reveals, it was difficult to find lists or names of programs outside of Europe. In this sense, even though we did not include standalone programs in the U.S., the limitations of search results caused us to somewhat fail in answering Mao’s call. Nonetheless, this map represents a start in considering the conversations taking place outside of our disciplinary and national borders. 



*The Friedrich and Schleiermacher pieces both come from an anthology called Theories of Translation, edited by Rainer Schulte and John Biguenet and published by U of Chicago Press.

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