Belief

A Classical Forensic Oration

[As I was thinking about writing this, I realized that I have internalized the structure of Cicero’s advice on forensic orations so much that I tend to write most things that way— I thought I’d just go ahead and label the parts in case there are any potential rhetoric students out there.]

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exordium

Christ! A blasphemous expletive, and a typically ironic one as well. Part of what makes an utterance profane is violation of societal norms, and taking the Christian name for human embodiment of God in vain is a perfectly symmetrical case. Christ, in the normal context, is a physical manifestation of belief, belief embodied in flesh. Christ, as an expletive, is a mental conception of disbelief, disbelief with no embodied referent. Belief and disbelief are frequently the axis around which humanity turns.

narratio

Coleridge is often quoted on the subject of belief in an abbreviated manner, transposed wherever a “suspension of disbelief” might be required. The full context of this now cliché phrase is worth revisiting. Wordsworth and Coleridge sought to excite the sympathy of readers, using ordinary life modified by the “colours of imagination”:

In this idea originated the plan of the “Lyrical Ballads,” in which it was agreed, that my endeavours should be directed to persons and characters supernatural, or at least romantic; yet so as to transfer from our inward nature a human interest and a semblance of truth sufficient to procure for these shadows that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment which constitutes poetic faith.

Works of art are indeed shadows of ourselves, and those who work to create them strive to embody and animate them with faith in the species of truth that art represents. People who quote Coleridge seldom complete the sentence— which ends with the constitution of a variety of faith. Skepticism is the destroyer of art. Fighting against skepticism is in some ways an analogous project to that of Jesus Christ, whose mission was to redeem man though acts of faith. Is it any wonder that Western artists would adopt Christ-like stances in relationship to their work?

partitio

No sane human would attempt to model themselves after an omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent God. However, Christ as “God made flesh” is a more accessible paradigm. Paradoxical qualities attributed to Christ provide a good frame to evaluate the products of would be creators on earth. Art began in ritual practice, and the theological descriptors kenosis and plerosis describe attributes not just of the qualities of art, but the attitude an artist takes regarding self in relationship to “human interest and semblance of truth” that an artist seeks to convey.

confirmatio

Kenotic theology focuses on Christ’s renunciation of his supernatural qualities; he emptied himself of omniscience and omnipresence while incarnate; he became flesh to instill belief in man through becoming man. This is a relatively new outlook on Christ, as is the view that an artist's work is not about who they are, but should instead deal with larger concerns alone. Modern poets who have renounced the importance of their personality or individual selves are in a sense emulating the behavior of Christ by giving up the very qualities that make them human.

In an abstract sense, artists of this type want to be Christ through an artistic ritual of emptying themselves to make room for a conception of the totality of the human condition through kenosis. TS Eliot seems to be the prime example in this case, but it does not take much of a stretch to see the utility of this viewpoint in other art forms, particularly the idea of disinterested documentary non-fiction and photography.

The opposite ritual form, plerosis, emulates more closely the effect of a second coming. It is a ritual of filling, of completing the world in its totality. In a traditional Christian view, man was incomplete and without the gifts of love, compassion, and forgiveness of sin which Christ delivered to us. In a sense, some artists celebrate the gift of Christ by emulating it— filling the world with the greatest gifts of God, which include our capacity for self-consciousness. Shelley's extravagance comes to mind, as does the rhetorical florish of William Blake.

Ultimately, those who try to create do so by engaging in a practice which either models itself on a behavioral perception of an authentic messiah, or simulates the effects of one by aiming at completion and totality. A theological model need not be far fetched, even for artists who do not adhere to the Christian faith. These attributes are a deep structure in the fabric of Western society.

reprehensio

Though these attitudes toward artistic creation are opposite, they are both viable positions for a creator operating in the shadow of a Western Christian paradigm. Perhaps because they are both unattainable absolutes, any effort at maintaining strict boundaries of production is doomed. Any model of intention is always flawed, because the motives for creation are as bountiful as the cultures which form them.

conclusio

However, studying the oscillation between kenotic and plerotic modes of artistic creation— modes of generating a suspension of disbelief, at least for a moment— can provide a way of reconciling how artists “transfer an inner nature” into an outward practice of production by such contradictory means. Art attempts to save what is best in us; the methods of art can tell us much about the motives and the mechanics of constituting belief. Art is messianic when pushed to the extremes, at least in the moment that we have faith.

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So, there you have it. A blog entry and an example of Roman rhetoric rolled into one. I don’t teach the Latin names to my students; instead, I call the divisions Introduction, Background, Claim [I don’t believe in thesis statements; it’s a horrible misnomer for the work that this section is supposed to do —partition, division, or claim are better terms], Argument, Refutation, and Conclusion.