You feel your body come to an abrupt halt and your eyes slowly come into focus. This jump felt different than the other ones. The air is still buzzing around you with a static charge. There is still an energy in the air that normally hasn't continued after your previous jumps.
It is late at night and for the first time, you do not recognize the city you have been sent to at all. You are standing on the steps of a very tall structure made of red clay bricks. A vast, low desert city spreads out around the structure. It is lit by torches and lanterns. For a moment you are reminded of Athens during the plague. In contrast a calm lays over this city. An aromatic scent from the fires lingers in the air, drawing your mind to exotic woods and incense, calming you--almost. The strangeness of all the structures around you unnerves you and you sense that you are far off of your timeline.
"Caliban?"
"Give me a moment . . . there. It took me a moment to calibrate. We, or rather you, since technically I am neither here nor there, are in the city of UR, Sumeria in, let's see, 2270 BCE."
"That can't be right."
"Nor can it be left. But it is correct."
Behind you lies several steep staircases that lead up to what looks like a temple at the top of the ziggurat.
“I’m not going that way,” you say, and start down into the city.
“Not your best choice,” Caliban tells you.
“Okay, out with it.”
“It took a few moments for my archives to pull up information about this local.”
“But you have something now.”
“Of course! In this time and place I have one reference, Enheduanna.”
“That is supposed to mean something to me?”
“No need to get snippy. Enheduanna was a priestess and poet who lived from 2285 to 2250 BCE. She was the daughter of Sargon, the ruler of the Akkad Empire that reigned over Sumeria at the time. Only in the last century several tablets were discovered with hymns and poems that she wrote. Most writing from this period is anonymous. This means that these are the first works that can be attributed to a known author. Isn’t that interesting?”
“That is interesting. I’m not sure what that has to do with you telling me to go up the steps rather than into the city.”
“I have been considering that as well. I have come to the conclusion that though your time jumps appear to be at random, they are not. You are being sent places where you can complete your mission.”
“You mean finding Aristotle’s lost library.”
“Surely it has occurred to you by now that this is only part of your mission, the icing on the cake if you will. You need to find out who damaged the temporal displacer, and why.”
“And you think this place might have some answers to that question.”
“We’ve found very few answers so far,” Caliban replies. “However, I would argue that since
Major Premise: Every time we are sent somewhere it is to talk to someone connected to Aristotle, particularly Aristotle’s rhetoric, and
Minor Premise: The only person who appears in my records who has anything to do with writing or rhetoric is Enheduanna.
Conclusion: We should talk to Enheduanna.”
Ergo,” you add, “She is up these steps?”
“Well,” Caliban answers, “your addition spoils the syllogism, but that is essentially correct. Though to be completely logical we would have to start from the major premise ‘Enheduanna is a priestess.” Somehow he is able to put an offended sniff into his voice through the whole monologue.
[[Ascend the steps]]
As you reach the top of the steps of the ziggurat, you see the temple. A large flat landing, dotted with fire pits, surrounds the temple. You see figures pacing the landing, keeping an ever watchful eye on the city.
The temple itself has large wooden doors that are cracked open. You see flame light pouring out from the structure. Around the doorway, you see cuneiform writing that you wish you could read. You know Caliban can translate it. But with the guards so close you are afraid to ask him.
[[You enter the temple]]
You push the large wooden door of the temple open. As you step inside, you feel the warmth of the many fires that light up the structure. Inside you see only one person. A woman is standing in front of a statue and appears to be praying.
You take a few steps forward into the structure. The woman stops praying and turns to you.
She scowls. "Who are you and why have you come to the temple so late at night?"
You attempt to apologize for the hour, "I'm sorry for how late it is, I just need help."
With her eyes fierce and piercing through you, "So you thought you could come ask for help from Enheduanna? I am the priestess of this temple and the daughter of Sargon of Akkad, ruler of these lands. I have many important duties in this city. Why would I help you? You are not dressed as one of our citizens."
Her eyes narrow and she looks you up and down, then into your eyes. “You are one of <i>them</i>, aren’t you?”
“Again?” Caliban says in your ear.
You know what he means. Once again, someone from what you can only think of as the ‘other team’ has beat you here. You don’t know it that meant she was going to call the guards or what.
“I suppose you won’t like my hymn either.”
“Sorry,” you reply. “I haven’t read it.”
“I have just written it.”
“Well, maybe you could let me read it”—you can’t read cuneiform; plan B then—"or recite it for me?”
She closes her eyes and lowers her head and begins to hum. Slowly the hum gets louder. After a few seconds of the humming, you feel a calming peace emanating from her. She looks up at the statue of Inana and begins to speak, almost singing, the hymn.
"Lady of all the divine powers, resplendent light, righteous woman clothed in radiance, beloved of An and Urac! Mistress of heaven, with the great pectoral jewels, who loves the good headdress befitting the office of a priestess, who has seized all seven of its divine powers! My lady, you are the guardian of the great divine powers! You have taken up the divine powers, you have hung the divine powers from your hand. You have gathered up the divine powers, you have clasped the divine powers to your breast. Like a dragon you have deposited venom on the foreign lands. When like ickur you roar at the earth, no vegetation can stand up to you. As a flood descending upon those foreign lands, powerful one of heaven and earth, you are their Inana."
She glances back at you. “The other one didn’t like this at all. He said the goddess sounded too fearful.”
“Well . . . “ you start to say, but she interrupts.
“The other one complained that a woman should be, how did he put it? Womanly, whatever that means. Like most men he wants to control women, not be controlled by them. He is afraid of a strong female deity, a goddess that is truly powerful.
“Well, she does sound rather destructive,” you reply.
“I suppose you want a fertility goddess?”
Not really, you think to yourself. But you don’t want a dragon goddess either.
“This hymn is for the people as much as it is for the goddess,” she tells you. "They need to be confident. Our enemies are strong. They are numerous. If the people are to fight, I must instill courage in them.”
“Sounds like your goal is pathos,” you reply.
“That word again. The other one used that word, then he gave me this.”
She handed you a manuscript. It was frayed around the edges, almost falling apart. But it was also evident that it was from a period much later than this one. What was he thinking, whoever he was, leaving a document from a future era back in the past?
The manuscript was <i>Menexenus</i>, a dialogue in which Socrates recites a funeral oration he says he heard from Asphasia. She was as mysterious a figure in Athens as Enheduanna was in Ur, reputed to be the mistress of Pericles, as well as the one who actually wrote all his speeches, the real intelligence behind the throne, if not the power.
“This speech," you tell her, "was given at the burial of men who had died fighting for the city and was designed to encourage the people, to keep their hopes up in a difficult period in the city’s history.”
“He marked several passages that he suggested I look at, and emulate. I can make nothing of them, nothing at all.”
You look closer at the manuscript and realize that several passages had been circled in red. He’s used a Magic Marker on a historical document? What kind of monster was he?
“But, I do not understand these passages, nor what they mean. Can you decipher them for me?”
You read the first passage:
“There is a tribute of deeds and of words. The departed have already had the first, when going forth on their destined journey they were attended on their way by the state and by their friends; the tribute of words remains to be given to them, as is meet and by law ordained. For noble words are a memorial and a crown of noble actions, which are given to the doers of them by the hearers. A word is needed which will duly praise the dead and gently admonish the living, exhorting the brethren and descendants of the departed to imitate their virtue, and consoling their fathers and mothers and the survivors, if any, who may chance to be alive of the previous generation. What sort of a word will this be, and how shall we rightly begin the praises of these brave men? In their life they rejoiced their own friends with their valour, and their death they gave in exchange for the salvation of the living. And I think that we should praise them in the order in which nature made them good, for they were good because they were sprung from good fathers. Wherefore let us first of all praise the goodness of their birth; secondly, their nurture and education; and then let us set forth how noble their actions were, and how worthy of the education which they had received.”
“What does all this mean?” Enheduanna asks.
YOU TRY TO EXPLAIN HOW PATHOS IS USED IN THIS PASSAGE. BELOW ARE TWO POSSIBLE INTERPRETATIONS. WHICH DO YOU THINK IS THE MOST LIKELY? CHOOSE ONE.
Explanation One: “In this passage, Asphasia is praising the men who died. She is trying to get the people to feel [[patriotic->Answer]].” How do you explain patriotism, a loyalty in the case of the Greeks to their polis, or city state, and in modern times to the nation state? “In this passage she wanted the people to feel loyalty to the same cause these men died for.”
Explanatio Two: “Notice that she seems to be speaking to the family and friends of those who died? She wants them to feel [[proud->Answer]] rather than sad that these men have died. She talks about their valor and how they died for the city. She uses the word tribute to show that everyone should be proud of the dead.”
This is a challenging analysis to make. In fact, it’s possible to argue for either side. The speaker wants the hearers to feel patriotic, and tries to make them feel patriotic by making them proud of those who made a sacrifice for the city. Notice that these two feelings support each other. In fact, you could argue that in cases such as this, one can’t be felt without the other. This is a major difference between pathos and logos and ethos. One can find parts of any argument that are logical and other parts that are not. One can decide that a speaker has positive ethos, but still disagree with the argument. Pathos, on the other hand, has to be mutually supportive.
The way to decide this question is to ask which is most important and why. Yes, you guessed it, there's a "Try This" on the way.
Enheduanna looks incredulous.
“That is simply insane. The people need anger. They need to hate their enemy. They need to think their goddess is the most powerful, most violent force in the world. Listen to what I wrote.”
She starts the singsong recitation again.
"Lady supreme over the foreign lands, who can take anything from your province? Once you have extended your province over the hills, vegetation there is ruined. Their great gateways are set afire. Blood is poured into their rivers because of you, and their people must drink it. They must lead their troops captive before you, all together. They must scatter their élite regiments for you, all together. They must stand their able-bodied young men at your service, all together. Tempests have filled the dancing-places of their cities. They drive their young men before you as prisoners. Your holy command has been spoken over the city which has not declared "The foreign lands are yours!", wherever they have not declared "It is your own father's!"; and it is brought back under your feet. Responsible care is removed from its sheepfolds. Its woman no longer speaks affectionately with her husband; at dead of night she no longer takes counsel with him, and she no longer reveals to him the pure thoughts of her heart. Impetuous wild cow, great daughter of Suen, lady greater than An, who can take anything from your province?"
Her speech has grown increasingly more disturbing. Her voice is no longer the calm collection it once was, but has evolved into anger and raising of volume.
“That’s, ah, very eloquent.” There is only one emotion in her hymn, you think, anger. The problem is, that can be a very compelling emotion, as evidenced by the rise of Hitler in the Twentieth Century, the many acts of terrorism, both foreign and domestic, in America in the Twenty-first Century, or the race riots in the European Union in the Twenty-Second Century. Anger, and it’s counterpart, fear, were so strong they tended to drown out all other emotions.
“Stirring, isn’t it?” Enheduanna replied smuggly. “Not like what this Asphasia has written.” She points to another passage that has been circled, this one with a happy face drawn next to it. This other intern has a lot to answer for, desecrating a manuscript like that. That’s what made you angry.
You read the passage.
“Sons, the event proves that your fathers were brave men; for we might have lived dishonourably, but have preferred to die honourably rather than bring you and your children into disgrace, and rather than dishonour our own fathers and forefathers; considering that life is not life to one who is a dishonour to his race, and that to such a one neither men nor Gods are friendly, either while he is on the earth or after death in the world below. Remember our words, then, and whatever is your aim let virtue be the condition of the attainment of your aim, and know that without this all possessions and pursuits are dishonourable and evil.
For neither does wealth bring honour to the owner, if he be a coward; of such a one the wealth belongs to another, and not to himself. Nor does beauty and strength of body, when dwelling in a base and cowardly man, appear comely, but the reverse of comely, making the possessor more conspicuous, and manifesting forth his cowardice. And all knowledge, when separated from justice and virtue, is seen to be cunning and not wisdom; wherefore make this your first and last and constant and all-absorbing aim, to exceed, if possible, not only us but all your ancestors in virtue; and know that to excel you in virtue only brings us shame, but that to be excelled by you is a source of happiness to us. And we shall most likely be defeated, and you will most likely be victors in the contest, if you learn so to order your lives as not to abuse or waste the reputation of your ancestors.”
“Why would anyone say such things to the sons of men who have died in battle?”
EXPLAIN THIS PASSAGE TO ENHEDUANNA.
Explanation One: “If you look over this passage carefully, you’ll notice that Asphasia compares various traits that many people see as positive, wealth, courage, to cowardice. By doing this, the speaker is trying to [[shame->Answer 2]] any hearers who might choose life by staying in the safety of the city over death on the battlefield. Anyone who has been thinking that they are happy that they aren’t one of the dead would thus feel ashamed of those feelings and would be more likely to volunteer for the next campaign. Shame is a powerful motivator.”
Explanation Two: “Notice how often the speaker uses the words ‘honour’ and ‘dishonor’? This reveals the emotion that speaker uses [[ridicule->Answer 2]]. In fact, what the speaker really wants is for the hearers, particularly the families and friends of the dead, to ridicule those who did not go into battle alongside the fallen.”
You might have guessed it, either answer has validity. Hearers of this passage who fall short of the standards set by the rhetoric might easily feel shame. Many might vow to act differently in the future. Hearers who (at least in their own eyes) live up to these standards might easily feel disdain for and ridicule others they see as falling short. Notice that unlike patriotic and proud, the emotions shame and ridicule don’t go hand in hand. The rhetoric has set a scale, and which side you fall on this scale will dictate the emotion you are meant to feel. Different people will feel different emotions.
Notice also that there is a danger to this use of pathos. It’s possible that many will feel anger at having had these negative emotions thrust on them. They may reject the standard, or reject how they have been portrayed (IE the identity) by this standard. They will feel anger, and that anger will be toward the rhetor.
“Though your words sound reasonable,” Enheduanna says, “I still don’t understand how these emotions might actually get anyone to do anything. My hymn will motivate the people to fight our enemies, to crush them into the dust. This?” she takes the manuscript out of your hand. “I don’t know what it will do.”
“Well,” you tell her, “the difference is in the audience, in those who are listening. Some emotions, some use of pathos, will work differently on different people.”
TRY THIS #1: In your groups, analyze the two different audiences, the ones Enheduanna was speaking to and the one Asphasia would have been speaking to. What qualities might either audience have had that would make them open to the pathos used in each speech. You may not have much historical information about either audience, so feel free to speculate and come up with creative answers.
Call your instructor over when you have a written list you can show him.
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