The Figure of the Flash

Rachel Lew

Rhetoric 103A / Jerilyn Sambrooke

8 Oct 2016

The Figure of the Flash

In the third chapter of Book VIII of Quintilian’s Institutio Oratoria, Quintilian discusses the benefits of implementing good stylistic ornament in one’s rhetoric. Explaining how an orator’s eloquence makes the audience more sensitive to the orator’s suggestions, Quintilian analogizes, “The flash of the sword in itself strikes something of terror to the eye, and we should be less alarmed by the thunderbolt if we feared its violence alone, and not its flash as well” (Quintilian, 215).

In this essay I argue that this metaphor seeks to empower and make important the rhetorical ornament by infusing it with masculinity, where I use the term masculinity to represent strength, authority, and physicality. In my analysis I consider the metaphor’s figure of the flashing weapon broken down into two parts: the figure of the flash, and the figure of the sword/thunderbolt.

The figure of the sword in particular immediately presents itself with masculinity. It is conventionally wielded by a man, it is arguably phallic, but more importantly, it is also a physical thing which reaffirms its physicality by imposing itself upon the physical bodies of others. Thus rhetoric must also possess physicality, if we follow the metaphor of rhetoric as a flashing sword. If we furthermore assume that the flash is analogous to rhetorical ornament, then the sword itself is analogous to rhetorical content, and it is then specifically the content, and not the eloquence, of rhetoric that possesses this masculine trait of physicality. However, without eloquence to aid in the act of convincing, rhetorical content’s strength comes only from its logic and clarity. Underlying the sword/thunderbolt metaphor is therefore the assumption that good logos should prevent refutation of the argument so well that the strength of the argument actually approximates the physical force of a weapon.

Logos is not enough for Quintilian, who argues that a rhetorician should not only receive “acclamation,” but also “thunders of applause” (213), and that this is best achieved through ornament that emotionally transports an audience. Admittedly, the terror, alarm, and fear that a flash ignites in the poor individual at the mercy of a sword or thunderbolt are quite different from the “ecstasy of delight” (213) that beautiful ornament instills in an audience. Yet the darker emotions of the sword/thunderbolt metaphor are merely an exaggeration of awe in the presence of a greater force, whether that be the argument or the rhetorician expounding it. Moreover, the language of fear in the metaphor causes the reader to associate strength and authority with the rhetorician who wields his sword of words; it creates a masculine space in the ideal realm of the metaphor for the rhetorician to inhabit.

Interestingly, this fear is not fear of the sword, but fear of the flash itself. In a move to diminish the weakness associated with the feminine character of flashy words, Quintilian claims through this metaphor that eloquence itself holds power. A flash cannot strike a person, but its sudden, bright appearance elicits a visceral reaction in the person before he/she realizes what exists to be logically afraid of. In the same way, brightly worded rhetoric can evoke in the audience a strong wave of illogical emotion, on which less potent emotions (e.g. satisfaction due to a clearly-stated point) thereafter ride.

In summary, this metaphor hopes to empower the rhetorician by speaking of fear while dressing the feminine figure of the flash in symbols of strength. By assigning masculinity to rhetorical eloquence, the metaphor moves rather anxiously to blunt the natural effeminacy of the beautiful word.