Showing posts with label persuasion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label persuasion. Show all posts

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Know thy Audience 11/3

#11/3/11: Reading Franklin’s letters to various printers and publishers written during the decades building up to the American Revolution is “enlightening” on several levels, but I found Franklin’s stylistic choices even more interesting than the ideas expressed. First, the different characters Franklin assumes over the course of the letters illustrate how adept the man was in the art of persuasion. Franklin is hyper-aware of his readership, and never fails to tailor his persona to their expectations.
In the letters written to the printer in Pennsylvania, Franklin is sarcastic, scathing, and yet still amusing. His American readers surely appreciated his mocking tone and absolute contempt for English opinion. The statement, “such a tender parental Concern in our Mother Country for the Welfare of her Children,” is so dripping in sarcasm that it scorns the very notion that the italicized words could describe such a parasitic relationship. Surely, readers in Philadelphia and beyond would have felt and immediate affinity for the man behind the metaphor. His use of humor is also crucial to the argument’s effectiveness, because it leaves the readers buoyed, rather than wallowing in their own helplessness. The idea of “getting back at England,” despite the ridiculous nature of his method, must have left readers feeling quite satisfied.
In an inspired twist of character, Franklin’s later letters to the London Gazette take an entirely different tone. All of a sudden, Franklin is an absolute loyalist, only writing to inform the English readership of the opinions of Americans. He continually states that it is not his intention to support the views of the colonies or “combat” the decisions of the English government, but only to relay information that the English may find “interesting.” However, his sentiments clearly lie with the colonies and he uses his “insider status” as a Brit to lay out their arguments in a very convincing manner.
His writings on “American Discontents” make excellent use of “they,” “we,” and “I” in a way I found fascinating to track. He begins by referring to the colonies as “they” and then without warning switches into the imaginary dialogue: “I say, reflecting on these things, the Americans said to one another…” Franklin then goes on to use “we” (Americans) for almost two pages while expressing their grievances. Then, in case the English are beginning to doubt the loyalties of their source, he concludes with, “These are the wild ravings of the at present half distracted Americans. To be sure no reasonable man in England can approve of such sentiments.”
Its literally enough to make your head spin. He is an American dissenter, writing as a loyalist, impersonating American dissenters, who then scoffs at the arguments of said impersonated Americans and refers to ‘their’ quite compelling and eloquent logic as “wild ravings”—a statement so incredibly biased that it borders on overt sarcasm which, if noticed, would put him back to square one. Pure craziness only a genius like Franklin could pull off without getting shipped back to Philly.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

An Exercise in Virtue, and Persuasion!

Franklin's short essay, "Self-Denial Not the Essence of Virtue" is a wonderfully interesting piece on the roots of virtue in men and itself an exercise in persuasion. His argument presents an initial claim; dissects it, finding it to be false; then presents a modified version of the original claim, which he comes to accept. But how convinced are we by his reasoning?


His first model is as follows: "without Self-Denial there is no Virtue, and that the greater the Self-Denial the greater the Virtue" (242). Through example he reasons that by this logic, that we check our temptation to vice through the practice of the contrary virtue. But, in the long term, this diminishes the force of the temptation, and one would have to return to his vices in order to be virtuous. I'm not sure this argument is entirely convincing. Franklin doesn't explicitly define the practice of virtue, if one cannot practice it anymore, is he not just living the virtue?


His second model replaces virtue with merit, thus any act of Self-Denial deserves merit & praise. This seems to more aptly fit his claims, though he still draws heavily on examples, like this instance of Honesty: "If you were to employ Servants in Affairs of Trust, would you not bid more for one you know was naturally honest, than for one naturally roguish, but who had lately acted honestly" (243). Honesty is a virtue Franklin holds high, yet what about all the people he lied to creating the Silence Dogood pseudonym? Does his intention come into play here?


He concludes that Virtue is Virtue, with or without context; and because virtue is merit-based, it is absolute. It doesn't matter if your nature predisposes you to virtuous undertakings, or if the merits of virtue are "practis'd with or against our inclinations" (244). Franklin also decides that self denial has no inherent goodness or wickedness, only as it is used. But what struck me were his final remarks: "And he who does a foolish, indecent or wicked Thing, meerly because 'tis contrary to his Inclination, […] is not practising the reasonable Science of Virtue, but is a lunatick" (244). I believe Franklin to be of good virtue, but would he then consider the act of writing the Silence Dogood letter one of a lunatic? Or would Franklin consider that the virtue of the results of his deceit justify the means?