Documenting the Holocaust for Eternity

(Option 2)

“History is written by the victors”—rather, by whatever mode of communication, be it written, spoken, or recorded, to name a few, that said victor has at their disposal.  The way in which someone communicates itself conveys almost as much, if not more, information as the facts or opinions that were supposed to be conveyed in the first place.  If someone chose to communicate through writing- what did they write on?  Did they decide to handwrite or to type?  What could these factors reveal about societal trends and values at the time?  Similarly, when considering types of visual communication, factors such as tone of voice, expression, setting, lighting, and more can all lend insight into the customs of a particular group of people and/or a place in time.  By choosing to set his Holocaust documentary Never Forget to Lie in the present, as a reflection on the past, Marian Marzynski successfully implemented many modern modes of communication to weave together all elements of his story and really connect to the audience.

Although Never Forget to Lie is a relatively current documentary (released May 2013), it did not seem to utilize all of the fanciest special effects, lighting techniques, or camera styles available today—for understandable reasons.  By refraining from implementing the most sophisticated effects into the film, Marzynski gave the film an air of simplicity and honesty that did not detract from or try to gloss over any of the atrocities of the Holocaust.  In addition to helping define the Holocaust and really place it into perspective for the audience, this tactic shows how choosing not to use all of the most up-to-date methods of communication to make a point can convey ideas just as effectively and fluidly as can the most up to date methods.  In addition, the lack of the most flashy current effects gave the film a more timeless air, linked by its filming style and footage to neither the 1940s nor to the early 21^st century, which complimented the film’s juxtaposition of elements from “then” and “now”.  This juxtaposition communicated to the audience that although time has passed, the Holocaust must not be forgotten, and cannot be as a result of the memories and intangible scars that will not fade.

The documentary’s striking usage of emotional survivor testimony and footage must also be discussed in the context of communication reflecting history and society.  Emotional outpourings—smiles, frowns, laughter, tears—are some of humanity’s most basic and one of society’s earliest forms of communication that can be understood across societies around the world, even across time.  That Marzynski uses raw signs of emotion such as the aforementioned in tandem with bare, striking images and haunting anecdotes to create a sense of pathos reinforces Marzynski’s ability to clearly convey simple, plain truths about the Holocaust to people around the world.  In addition, the barren, stark nature of this emotional footage suggests to the audience the way in which the Holocaust dehumanized and attempted to strip from countless people their most intrinsic human identity.

The film’s simple portrayal of an immensely complex matter further demonstrates how modern modes of communication can intensify and broaden the rhetorical devices individuals have at their disposal.  The form of a modern documentary itself, with all of its varied visual and audile components, immediately enhances the rhetorical decisions the filmmaker can make.  This is shown in all of Marzynski’s choices, including lighting (generally dark), camera angle (generally straight; sometimes directed up to present buildings, such as the Warsaw Ghetto, in more dramatic ways), camera movement (generally not that much; slow if any), musical elements (haunting orchestral music to accompany especially chilling moments), and ability to synthesize (Marzynski synthesized image, text, sound, and movement not only from the same era but also across time periods).  Marzynski’s full synthesis of these various components allowed him to seamlessly juxtapose images from war-ravaged Europe with current footage of the Warsaw Ghetto or Treblinka concentration camp; to juxtapose footage of himself reconnecting in the 1980s with certain righteous gentiles who hid him during the war as he stands currently in the very monastery where he was hidden; and to juxtapose actual Holocaust-era artifacts with the ornaments and collectables in his nicely furnished and cared for American home.

The capacity to involve all of these different types of media in one type of interface is an asset unique to the technology and forms of communication of the present time.  Less visual forms of modern communication can still deliver a compelling message to an audience through sound effects, music, and dialogue.  Similarly, forms of communication lacking sound can do this through photographs and pictures that have often been edited with new technology to sharpen or blur or lighten or darken an image.  Never Forget to Lie, a conglomerate of both of these facets of communication and more, is extremely effective in forging a lasting bond with the audience, and will likely be capable of doing so with subsequent generations far into the future.

Never Forget to... Lie?

Marzynski, Marian, dir. Never Forget to Lie.  PBS Frontline, 2013. Film.

     In the documentary film Never Forget to Lie, filmmaker Marian Marzynski, a child survivor of the Holocaust, ventures into previously unexplored territory: his childhood memories of the Holocaust.  Composed of emotional interview clips and footage of places in Warsaw, Krakow, Treblinka, and other areas in or around Poland, the film revisits Marzynski’s past. Marzynski uses the stories of other child survivors as fragments around which he tells his own story, a story Marzynski kept inside of him for the majority of his life.  Yet as difficult as it was for Marzynski to finally share this private information with the public, he felt obligated to, so that as sections of the Warsaw ghetto are even now being turned into condominiums, the world would never forget what transpired during the Holocaust.  By travelling to the places of his and the other survivors’ youth while allowing them to tell their stories, Marzynski captures the pain and suffering unleashed by the Holocaust in a startling and indelible way, while lending an interesting perspective to the true meaning of family, love, and sacrifice.

     Marzynski’s jarring perspective is captured in the documentary’s title: Never Forget to Lie.  Although a counterintuitive phrase that seems to defy logos, the title makes perfect sense relative to the ways in which the Holocaust turned social and behavioral norms upside-down.  It was this fanatical time that Marzynski recaptured in memories and footage, and one of the most prominent ways he did so was through juxtaposition.  By revisiting the past from the present and subsequently juxtaposing footage from “then” and from “now,” Marzynski was able to show that while time can erase something’s physical remnants, it is incapable of fully removing emotional scars.  This juxtaposition was complimented by a mixture of black and white photographs and footage with sharp, color images, as well as by deliberate intangible gestures: hugging, handholding, and other tender, emotional gestures in such ravaged, violent places as the Warsaw ghetto and Treblinka concentration camp.  In the paradoxical ambiance thus created, Marzynski was able to convey one of the film’s most important themes: that despite the hardships and unspeakable horrors of a past, there is always hope for a brighter future; for this reason, the past must always be remembered.

     And remembered it will be, for Never Forget to Lie’s estimable creation of pathos through emotional testimony, archival footage, and the presence of heirloom photographs and artifacts ensured that Marzynski’s enduring messages remained in the audience’s minds.  The majority of the film took place in Warsaw, Poland, largely under the context of a reunion/conference of child Holocaust survivors.  This organized gathering established credibility (ethos) for Marzynski, and subsequently made the survivor testimony seem unequivocally authentic and cinematically unembellished (what the survivors themselves perhaps added or changed to their memories is impossible to know for sure; however, the filmed renditions themselves did not seem to have been coached by Marzynski).  The survivor testimony was extremely poignant; Marzynski captured on camera what for many of the survivors was the first time they had either voiced their memories aloud or revisited the places of their memories.  Outbursts of raw emotion—tears, shaking, minor hysteria—marked the telling of the interviews and solidified their lasting impact on the audience.

     The interviews were further enhanced by Marzynski‘s deliberate location of them, generally in front of decrepit and plain buildings.  This placement forced the survivors’ words to become the focus of the interviews, and did not permit them to be overshadowed or distracted from by the surroundings.  Also, for almost the entire documentary the camera was placed at eye level with those speaking.  By purposefully placing them on the same level as the audience, Marzynski was able to humanize them.  Occasional side-view shots of those being interviewed added a sense of humility to the documentary, because it made it appear as if Marzynski was granting the interviewers some privacy.  This resonated especially with the audience, putting again into context how difficult it was for the survivors to speak of their pasts.

     Furthermore, Marzynski worked hard at establishing certain associations between objects, sensations, and the audience throughout the film.  The inclusion of artifacts such as Marzynski’s father’s watch and a landlady’s book of all the tenants to whom she rented apartments helped the sense of loss and connections through time to become more tangible for the audience.  Finally, the mixture of Polish and English language and normal background noise with only hints of music gave the film in its entirety an unedited, authentic, and purposeful air.

     Above all, one of the most outstanding elements of the film was its somewhat abrupt ending.  This masterfully mirrored how the Holocaust changed Marzynski’s and so many others’ lives, and how despite the questions people will constantly be asking about what happened during the Holocaust, one can never know for sure what the world could have been without the loss of so many lives.  The ability of Marzynski to so powerfully recreate these sensations within the audience is what truly set apart this film from many other Holocaust themed works.

What was the point?

     “Your toe?  What do you mean, you have to “do your toe” by this Sunday night?”  No, I remember explaining to my mystified parents.  My TOW, not my toe.  An assignment I was already dreading, for not only would it entail critically and rhetorically analyzing various works, but would also require doing so on a weekly basis.  What fun.  Unenthused, I set out each weekend to conquer my TOW, a mindset that consequently revealed itself in my writing.  Yes— while I did my TOW dutifully every weekend, my initial entries were hardly more than generic works that simply listed each piece of the “TOW guideline sheet.”  Heavy with summary, these first entries were largely explanatory and seemed to include bits and pieces of rhetorical analyses as mere afterthought.  An audience and author’s purpose were explicitly defined in these early TOWs, which all seemed to follow the same cut-and-dry pattern: simple hook, introductory information, summary, intended audience, rhetorical analysis, and the author’s purpose.  As weeks turned to months and I continued to slog through this weekly chore, I couldn’t help but wonder: what was the point?  Was I actually gaining anything useful from this experience?

     Turns out I was.  Slowly, subconsciously, my TOWs were morphing from simple, amateur writing to more mature, thoughtful prose (in tandem with their increasing length).  As I began to perceive the TOW guideline sheet less as a crutch and more as a guide, I noticed the focus of my TOWs shift from summary to analysis.  A flow became present in the writing between what the author said, my impressions and analyses, and back to the author’s intended purpose.  It seemed less and less as if phrases were stuck haphazardly into the TOW, but rather as if they belonged there, in their natural place beside other analysis and transitional words.  I stopped “doing” my TOWs and started crafting them; stopped analyzing the same few rhetorical devices and began to extend my analyses into the plethora of devices out there.  I noticed marked improvements in my thesis statements and the overall flow of my work; it seemed as if I had begun to master the art of expression, not just of my own thoughts but also of translating into my own words what I perceived to be other authors’ beliefs and techniques.

     Granted, there is still much room for improvement.  I still wrestle with the “consequence” aspect of my thesis statements, and I know that I can always improve and expand upon the sources of my TOWs as well as the devices through which I analyze them.  Sometimes, it still feels as if I’m simply writing sentences to make sure I include all of the TOW’s necessary components, and at other times I sense a rushed conclusion, or a string of sentences that isn’t quite cohesive.  Yet gaining this appreciation for myself as a writer and a more solid understanding of my place in the community through my analysis of the rhetorical elements that surround me in daily life is certainly one of the best rewards that the TOW assignments have provided me.  I understand the purpose of these TOWs was significantly to help prepare students for the AP Exam, and while I cannot say that I used any of my TOWs in either the Mock or actual AP exam, I know that the rhetorical analysis process itself I used in constructing my TOWs certainly helped me on 5-10-13.  Furthermore, the ability to rethink an author’s purpose and find subtleties in works and expressions is a valuable skill that I know I was able to hone through these TOW assignments.  Therefore, it is clear to me now that I benefitted from completing a TOW every weekend.  Although I could not grasp initially how much I was to grow as a thinker and writer through these assignments, I am appreciative now of the diligence and work I put into each TOW, for now I have a much more solid understanding of not only the world around me but also of myself.

"A Child's Wild Kingdom"

     It may come as a surprise to some how inundated American children’s culture is with animals.  Animals—rather, often, the cute, storybook versions of their wild counterparts—litter the literature, toys, pictures and clothing that young children are exposed to.  In his New York Times opinion piece entitled “A Child’s Wild Kingdom,” Jon Mooallem, a contributing author to the New York Times Magazine as well as to other publications, delves into the psychological aspects of this phenomenon.  In examining why children over other groups are particularly drawn to animals, as well as how children’s mannerisms may resemble those of animals, Mooallem effectively shows how adults can use animals to represent the types of people they hope their children will grow into.

     Before delving into these comparisons, however, Mooallem creates the backdrop of a child’s animal-centered world for the audience through careful usage of imagery, statistics, and other types of data.  In describing the pages of children’s storybooks where animals are given human characteristics and shown portraying human actions, Mooallem shows rather than tells the audience how animals are used in humanlike ways in American culture.  Additionally, by supporting almost all of his assertions with evidence from scientific experiments and other forms of research, Mooallem makes it clear to the reader that he is a credible source of information (ethos).

     Moving beyond the mere content of Mooallem’s piece, one can see the ways in which he skillfully and subtly draws attention to various points in order to further his main argument about the role of animals in children’s lives.  In describing this trend, Mooallem writes, “I’m not arguing that seeing a link between kids and animals is an exclusively modern phenomenon — that it’s some anxious, overcompensatory affectation of nature-deprived Americans, like those elaborate stone shower stalls, made to look like waterfalls and grottos, or the Paleo Diet…” By explaining vividly what he does not think the trend is, Mooallem subtly characterizes for the audience what he does think it is.  This strategy makes it very difficult for Mooallem’s points to be argued against, another asset that contributes to the sophistication of his writing.  He tends to present points in a suggestive, rather than definite, manner, consequently inviting self-doubt upon his claims and making it more difficult for the audience to feel strongly against his claims.

     This unique writing style helps Mooallem’s points to stick with the audience, anyone familiar with and/or interested in learning about psychological trends dealing with children and animals.  Perhaps the feelings and mannerisms of children are embodied within animals; only more conclusive and comprehensive research into the matter, as suggested by Mooallem, will tell.

The Globalization of Language

     “Languages are dying at an unprecedented rate.  A language dies every 14 days,” Patricia Ryan sadly informed those in attendance at her 2010 TED Talk.  As a seasoned English teacher in the Arabian Gulf countries, Ryan has witnessed drastic cultural and linguistic changes in the Arabian countries of her students.  Ryan uses her experiences to show that even languages have fallen prey to the negative effects of globalization, as what was once a rich part of the diverse societies across the world is being lost as people strive to learn English.  Ryan worries that humanity is limiting its future opportunities for growth and knowledge by inadvertently forcing potentially great scientists and thinkers to master the English language before continuing their studies in fields such as mathematics and science at prestigious English-speaking universities.  Limiting foreign entry into such schools based significantly on the results of an English proficiency test is unfair in Ryan’s eyes; while she sees value in the English language uniting people across the world, she dislikes how it can conversely be used to prevent people from sharing everything they have to offer to society.

     Ryan uses personal experience in the form of many concise anecdotes to help illustrate her points to the audience, educated global citizens concerned with English’s dominance as the global language.  She begins with a story about a colleague of hers who, teaching English in an Arab school, took her students outside the classroom to teach them nature vocabulary and ended up learning more herself about the traditional Arab names and histories of said plants.  In addition, Ryan explains how even though her daughter, who went to school in England and in an Arab country, would have to translate everything she learned in math and science in her Arabic classroom into English, she was nevertheless the best math and science student in her English class.  Both stories exhibit that despite the barriers presented by different languages, every language has its own idiosyncrasies and unique take on aspects of life that compliment those found in other languages.  As the pool of languages from which they can pull words and ideas grows smaller and smaller, people risk losing diverse approaches to problem solving and facets of creativity unique to certain languages.

     Furthermore, Ryan’s talk was made compelling by the personal way in which she addressed her audience.  In using phrases such as “I know what you’re thinking,” or “You must be wondering…” Ryan invites the audience into her talk.  This seems to place the audience on the same level as Ryan, encouraging them to listen carefully and thoughtfully consider every word she says.  By approaching them as intellectual equals rather than people to speak down to, Ryan ensures her audience can get the most from the talk.

     Given Ryan’s discussion of the limits created by the globalization of language, it is especially important that the audience be capable of really connecting to Ryan’s words.  In that way, they are able to truly ponder the challenging question raised by Ryan: Is the world’s focus on English limiting great ideas in other languages?

The "Right" To Remain Silent

     As people across America struggle to recover from and understand the actions of brothers Dzhokhar and Tamerlan Tsarnaev, suspected terrorists behind the Boston Marathon bombings, one thing seems consistently to be on American minds: that justice be served to Dzhokar for his alleged acts of terrorism.  Consequently, the fact that Dzhokar will not hear his Miranda Rights before being interrogated by the FBI has gone largely unnoticed by many Americans.  In her Slate article entitled “Why Should I Care That No One’s Reading Dzhokhar Tsarnaev His Miranda Rights?” Emily Bazelon, a Slate senior editor, hastens to inform the greater American public of the troublesome implications of this governmental trend of neglecting to initially announce the Miranda Rights in cases dealing with terrorism (which law enforcement agencies have the power to do because of the “public safety exception” to the Miranda Rights).

     In order to establish the scope of this governmental trend for the audience, Bazelon chronologically progresses through instances of American terrorism where the “public safety exception” was used, including that of Zacarias Moussaoui, Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, and Faisal Shahzad.  The examples chosen illustrate how the usage of the exception has increased in recent years, which in turn helps to further Bazelon’s main point: if law enforcement agencies are able to make their own rules now, what/who will/can stop them from doing so, in more dangerous ways, in the future?  In addition, the examples add credibility (ethos) to Bazelon and her claims.

     These claims are dramatically enhanced through Bazelon’s colloquial yet cautionary tone, which speaks directly to the audience in a friendly and direct way while at the same time clearly warning them of the implications of this abuse of governmental power (abuses the Miranda act initially aimed at reducing).  Casual, simple transitional phrases such as “Here’s the legal history,” and affable, informal authorial asides such as “Fine. Good, even—that gun could have put other people in danger” really allow Bazelon’s words to make tangible connections with the audience.  Furthermore, Bazelon’s habits of addressing the audience directly (“you”) and of simplifying explanations and diction so they are easily comprehendible helps the audience to feel as if they are on the same level as Bazelon.  This subsequently helps Bazelon’s points to resonate and really leave a strong impression on the audience.

     Americans will continue to wait in trepidation for more details about Dzhokhar, his brother, and the Boston Marathon bombing to surface.  After reading Bazelon’s article, one can only hope that this new information will not be gained at the expense of Dzhokhar’s basic American rights.

Angels and Ages: Darwin in Time

Passage: pages 168-196, the latter half of Chapter 4: Darwin in Time 

     Author Adam Gopnik’s persistence and meticulous attention to detail become especially evident in this section of Angels and Ages.  This section is a culmination of information Gopnik previously discussed about the circumstances that led Darwin to write and eventually publish On the Origin of Species.  In his discussions, Gopnik is able to evoke in the audience strong feelings of sorrow for Darwin because of the loss of a daughter, admiration of Darwin’s own attention to detail and observation, and awe of Darwin’s masterful understanding of not only the natural world but also of rhetoric and prose.  Although this section was incredibly dense and often tangential, Gopnik’s ability to bring together themes from both Darwin’s and Lincoln’s pasts lent a unique perspective to the writing, and allowed Gopnik to make some valuable insights about Darwin’s effect on the world. 

     A notable strategy used by Gopnik to help create a holistic sense of Darwin for the audience was his inclusion of countless excerpts and quotes from things Darwin wrote and said.  The snippets of private letters to his wife, Emma, help to create a sense of him as an affectionate and caring husband and father; sections of his published novels convey his patience, wisdom, and painstaking observation of the natural world; and segments of letters exchanged between Karl Marx and him help the reader to visualize Darwin in his own time, as his contemporary philosophers, economists, and scientists grappled with the Darwinian concept of natural selection.  These primary source documents subsequently add a level of credibility (ethos) to Gopnik’s research of Darwin’s life.

     Impressively, these inclusions flow well within Gopnik’s writing, a flow that is further enhanced by his usage of many “sound” devices.  For instance, Gopnik describes, “Dogmatic, difficult, and determined, he [Louis Agassiz] dominated American natural history…” (185).  The implementation of consonance in the repeated “duh” sounds, as well as some assonance in the repeated “ih” sounds, allow Gopnik’s diction to roll smoothly off the reader’s tongue.  Yet, this flow did occasionally feel disrupted when certain words seemed not to fit the diction of the other words around them.  For example, take Gopnik’s description of one of Darwin’s books, “Having studiously avoided comparisons for hundreds of pages packed with ornithological detail…” (Gopnik 183).  The word ornithological seems out of place in a sentence with simpler diction, of which the most complex word is “studiously.”  Overall, however, this was only a minor occurrence.

     Consequently, the majority of Angels and Ages flowed well, and nicely expanded but later brought together seemingly disparate points about the separate yet similar lives of Lincoln and Darwin.  Perfect for an audience that enjoys historical novels with a flair of mystery and focus on rhetoric, Angels and Ages is a book sure to offer an intriguing new look on the lives of some of society’s most respected icons.

Keeping Track of Technology

     In an age of faster, slimmer, and smarter technological devices, it seems as if the boundary between the technology of science fiction and spy movies and that of reality is shrinking.  As examined in The Economist article “Chips off the old block,” one current manifestation of improved technology is child-tracking devices.  Between smartphone tracking apps and programs and radio frequency identification (RFID) tags, the knowledge of a child’s whereabouts is now more accessible to parents than ever before.  Despite their benefits, however, the devices also pose dangerous consequences, for the programs can easily be used to provide information to mal-intentioned individuals, for instance, in cases of domestic violence. 

     This article began with an anecdote of a father walking his small son to the bus stop that was immediately relatable to for the audience (any person interested in current technological controversies).  The anecdote, however, ended with a less-relatable twist; that the father could also use a robot, linked to a beacon in the boy’s backpack, and/or a video-streaming smartphone to ensure his son made it onto the bus.  This story quickly hooked the audience and caused them to question where the story could possibly be leading.  It appealed enough to the audience’s cultural memory to allow them to make associations between technology they were familiar with from science fiction movies and that mentioned in the story, subsequently conjuring up images of robots and drones at a typical bus stop scene in their heads.  This highlights the anecdote’s employment of hyperbole in explaining the father’s ability to use “a football-sized drone, hovering several meters off the ground” (53) to track his son. 

     Nevertheless, the anecdote created a smooth transition to many existing tracking devices and places where they are used, which in turn shifted to a discussion of potential problems with the devices.  These possible misuses include eavesdropping capabilities and thus decreased privacy, and using the devices to track spouses in addition to children.  A “They say, I say” argument became evident in this section of the article, as the author effectively used what “Critics say” (53), what “Some survivors of domestic violence say” (54), and what “Others fear” (54) to explain the aforementioned reservations with the technologies.  At the same time, the author was able to make their own stance appear neutral for the audience, enhancing the article’s apparent objectivity and credibility (ethos). 

     As technology continues to expand into various facets of life, so do the controversies associated with its usage.  This article explored fairly objectively one such controversy, and thus does fulfill its purpose of informing readers of the benefits and drawbacks of current child-tracking devices.

Rebuilding Violent Places

     The buildings and environments in which people spend their time have striking effects on the emotions, memories, and recollections people establish with these places, both good and bad.  New Yorker correspondent Thomas de Monchaux explores these connections in the architectural context of rebuilding environments scarred by gun violence in an article entitled “Rebuilding Violent Places.”  He does this through examining the Oslo design firm, Fantastic Norway, responsible for rebuilding the Labor Youth Party summer camp on Utoya Island in Norway after July 2011 shootings.  De Monchaux stresses the quandaries associated with these architectural undertakings between wanting to start afresh but conversely leave some indications of what happened, so people do not forget.

     The article opens with several anecdotes that briefly outline places of recent gun violence, beginning with the 2006 Amish school shooting and progressing to the recent Sandy Hook shooting.  This overview reveals the scope of gun violence and thus the many repercussions this violence creates, putting the need for design firms like Fantastic Norway into context.  While the progression of the dates of these examples (2006 to 2012, 2007 to 2013) is not in exact chronological order, the repeating pattern of past to more recent helps to portray the shootings as cyclical happenings. 

     The anecdotes additionally appeal to the audience’s cultural memories of gun violence by bringing negative emotions of violence to the surface.  However, de Monchaux also adds to these memories by including the rebuilding process of shooting environments in his descriptions.  These descriptions are enriched through assonance, used by de Monchaux to describe the footprints of the twin towers as “...inviolately unbuildable in perpetuity—an act of polemical and political remembering,” (2).  The stressed ih sound in the words inviolately unbuildable in perpetuity, coupled with the ol, ic and al sounds in polemical and political, enhance his delivery by creating flow and cadence within his words.

     All of the small associations and connections that de Monchaux establishes with the audience help his points about creation in places marked by violence to be remembered.  The article seems to be directed towards a worldwide audience curious about architecture and how it influences sensations.  As a result, de Monchaux does successfully accomplish his purpose and leaves the reader pondering the future of “violent places” long after they finish the article.

The Injustices of Racial Entitlement

Brian McFadden's New York Times cartoon.  The cartoon can also be accessed here.

     During this past Wednesday’s Supreme Court hearing about The Voting Rights Act of 1965, conservative Justice Antonin Scalia attempted to argue that the South had surpassed the need for the law.  Scalia explained how the tremendous support the law received when it was up for reauthorization in 2006 could be attributed to “the perpetuation of racial entitlement,” as opposed to overwhelming support for the law.  In a New York Times Sunday Review strip cartoon, New York Times cartoonist Brian McFadden satirizes Scalia’s comment by revealing the many ways in which minority voters actually do have an unfair number of racial entitlements (compared to white voters).  The most striking device employed in this cartoon was humor, which effectively appealed to the audience and helped McFadden to make his point clear. 

     McFadden effectively expands upon Scalia’s ludicrous quote by using sarcasm to reinforce the racial entitlements given to minority voters.  Of course, McFadden means the opposite of what he says when he explains how minorities are granted more democracy because they can vote for longer periods of time; how their voting districts are gerrymandered for them; and how they are entitled to significantly more police attention than other people.  Twisting well known instances that actually verify continued racism towards minorities increases the contrast between what McFadden is saying and what he means, in turn strengthening his points.  This technique also employs cultural memory, as it forces the audience to subconsciously access what they know about the history of voting rights in America and the proliferation of racist and/or stereotypical comments in American media to subsequently increase their understanding of the cartoon.  Finally, the drawing style effectively mirrors the point of the cartoon.  The initial scene, showing Scalia reading a revised Huckleberry Finn to an audience of pastel-colored animals, sardonically mocks the not-so-light-and-fluffy issue of racial injustice.  In addition, the pictures heighten the ridiculousness of Scalia’s comment, as it portrays his real audience as animals, not people.

     This effective combination of words and images appeals well to McFadden’s audience of minority and liberal Americans, who would probably find the cartoon funny and valid.  It would also leave an impression on his audience of particularly conservative Americans, the viewpoints of whom the cartoon is expressly ridiculing.  Overall, the cartoon does fulfill its purpose of responding to an extreme comment in a humorous and memorable way.

“The Answer is Right in Back of Your Eyes”

     An incredibly complex organ, the brain is essential to our survival; however, there is a staggering amount that we do not yet know about its workings and abilities.  In a New York Times Opinion piece entitled “What Our Brains Can Teach Us,” David Eagleman, author and neuroscientist at Baylor College of Medicine, touches upon some of the brain’s intricacies that distinguish it from human created artificial sources of intelligence.  The examples used additionally further his claims of the merits of the brain that justify and validate Obama’s decision to invest perhaps 3 billion dollars to the study of neuroscience in the future.

     A notable technique employed by Eagleman was his constant comparisons between the brain and machines of artificial intelligence.  He writes, “Google Translate can convert any language to any other, but understands nothing of the content. Watson still can’t answer simple questions like, ‘When President Obama walks into a room, does his nose come with him?’ ” (1).  Mentioning these well known human advancements, in addition to appealing to cultural memory, gives the audience a solid basis for comparison, both ensuring that they understand Eagleman’s points and increasing the chances that they will be persuaded by his perspective.  By juxtaposing these two elements, Eagleman effectively establishes the brain’s superiority for the audience, as well as the weaknesses and limitations of human inventions when compared to the adaptability of the brain.  This is further illustrated through the vivid comparative anecdotes Eagleman uses to begin the piece.  By comparing humans investigating the brain to aliens who have just discovered Earth and are struggling to understand its complexities, the audience can clearly imagine how vast and enigmatic the brain is to humans.  The effectiveness of this metaphor is strengthened because Eagleman expands and adds to it throughout the editorial.  Imagining humans trying to categorize aspects of the brain as aliens judging Earth based on its natural disasters adds imagery and depth to the first comparison.  In addition, the metaphor helps Eagleman to pictorially show the shallow level of current human knowledge of the brain.

     These elements together appeal to the reader’s senses of logic and reason and increase their awareness of the brain.  Eagleman’s neat concluding lines, “So when a taxpayer asks how to endow our country with a confident future, you can reply, the answer is right in back of your eyes,” (1) thus make sense and resonate well with this audience, making Eagleman’s purpose of convincing his audience of the merits of the brain unquestionably fulfilled.

To the Ages or the Angels?

Angels and Ages, by Adam Gopnik.  Passage analyzed: Section 1 of Chapter 1, pages 26-29

     It seems natural that a book rhetorically analyzing the genius of Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin should also contain many deliberate rhetorical and stylistic decisions.  Adam Gopnik, writer for The New Yorker since 1986, employs many notable rhetorical techniques in his novel Angels and Ages while delving into some of the strange coincidences and parallels surrounding Lincoln and Darwin.  The book begins on February 12, 1809 with the births of Lincoln and Darwin.  The story proceeds to trace each man’s upbringing, and how their different backgrounds allowed each man to impact the world in a different field, but in remarkably similar ways.  Gopnik has a distinctive writing style and approach, which became evident in the first section of chapter one.

     Contrary to the way most books introduce new chapters, Gopnik begins the first chapter (and subsequent chapters) of the book with a nineteenth century poster style list of the chapter’s title and main points, and a short phrase explaining them.  This introduction helps to graphically set the scene in a way that words fail to do, because it evokes images and feelings of nineteenth century America.  In addition, it acts as a neat story map for the audience, any teen or adult interested in reading about the parallels between Lincoln and Darwin.  The story begins with an anecdote of Lincoln’s deathbed scene, where his secretary of war Stanton reputedly said of Lincoln “Now he belongs to the ages.”  Gopnik then relates the same story to the audience, changing Stanton’s words to a different account of what he said: “Now he belongs to the angels.”  Repeating this scene in two different ways for the reader helps to firmly establish in their minds the conflict that the book’s following chapters will discuss between religion, time, and evolution.  Gopnik’s focus on such a small aspect of the scene also reinforces for the reader the importance of small details, and how slight variations of letters can completely alter meaning.  The narrative voice of this section is first person, using the words “us” and “we.”  This creates an inclusive tone and appeals to the audience by inviting them in and allowing them to experience Gopnik’s revelations as he does.

     Thus far, I feel that Gopnik has fulfilled his purpose of capturing the reader’s interest and setting up the story’s main conflict.  I am intrigued to see how he will continue to add to his discussion, especially when he introduces Darwin into the story.

"What Fear Can Teach Us"

     In her illuminating TED Talk, Karen Thompson Walker, author of the book “The Age of Miracles” and former editor for Simon and Schuster, ponders the limits of the human imagination while examining its connection to fear.  Walker postulates that fear, contrary to the negative effects commonly associated with it, can actually be beneficial if interpreted correctly.  This “correct” examination rests on seeing fears as stories that could happen in the future, and allowing these stories and their potential side effects to help us make smart decisions and avoid possible trouble.

     The crux of Walker’s argument rest on the major premise that fear is an inherent part of human emotion, leading to her minor premise and conclusion that by regarding fears as stories rather than things we must conquer, humans will be able to improve their lives and subsequently decrease their fears.  The talk begins with an anecdote about the doomed whaling ship Essex, which Walker uses to vividly depict fears to the audience, anyone with an open mind willing to learn to look at their fears in a fresh way.  However, she does not immediately reveal the entire story, instead telling it in bits and pieces interspersed throughout the talk.  In this way, the story becomes an allegory that shows how our fears can paralyze us, like the sailors stranded at sea.  Even so, by tracing each fear to its potential end, we can better cope with and learn from our fears.  The allegory additionally played on the audience’s cultural memory, allowing them to bring preconceived notions (and even fears) about whaling and being stranded at sea into the discussion.  This interpersonal connection with the audience is furthered through Walker’s first person narration.  This point of view includes the audience, making them feel as if Walker is speaking directly to them and as if they can successfully look at their fears from a new perspective.

     However, one striking thing about the talk was Walker’s body language.  Although her words strove to connect with the audience, her actions did not; she was a relatively immobile public speaker, standing rigidly in the center of the stage, not always looking at the audience.  Therefore, had Walker been a more charismatic public speaker, it would have helped the audience to better hear and understand the talk, although Walker’s purpose was somewhat fulfilled in that she successfully employed some verbal rhetorical techniques throughout the talk.

A Crimson Stain

 The Slate article "There is No Harvard Cheating Scandal," by Farhad Manjoo, in wordle form.  Click here to read the article.

This past Friday, sixty students were forced to “withdraw” from Harvard because of allegations that they cheated on the University’s “Introduction to Congress” final last spring.  When news broke of the scandal this September, many people were astonished at the potential ways in which this could tarnish the university’s reputation.  In contrast to typical negative reactions, Farhad Manjoo, Slate’s technology columnist, spoke up in defense of the accused students.  Manjoo’s argument rests on the major premise that once in the “real world,” collaboration will be vital to the success of these students; thus, it did not make sense to forbid them from working together, especially on an open note exam when they were allowed to consult the Internet.  By structuring the article around this central claim, Manjoo effectively lays out his argument, further enhancing it through skillful usage of rhetorical elements.

At various points in the article, Manjoo uses rhetorical questioning to transition between aspects of the argument.  In the beginning, after establishing the facts for his audience, Manjoo asks the question, “What’s the point of prohibiting students from working together?”  A bridge between fact and opinion is thus created, allowing Manjoo to bring his own thoughts into the article as well as create flow.  The third person perspective from which the argument is narrated strengthens it.  Impressively, Manjoo never once says the word “I” throughout the piece.  His omission of this word lends credibility and sophistication to the article and helps to reinforce his focus on the students, as he leaves himself out of the piece.  The wide variety of quotes Manjoo weaves into the article also contributes to its effectiveness.  By incorporating quotes of questions from the “Introduction to Congress” exam, as well as one from Steve Jobs about the way Pixar’s office is set up to foster creativity, Manjoo enhances the argument by backing it up with external evidence to validate his claims.  The range of quotes shows the effort Manjoo put into the argument and allows him to appeal to a wide range of audience members, in particular American students around college age and teachers, both of whom are familiar with rigorous testing.

Therefore, I think Manjoo successfully uses his argument to fulfill his purpose.  In his attempt to exonerate the accused students, Manjoo employs many persuasive devices that work to convince the audience of a surprising yet compelling point.

Is Handwriting Worth Preserving? (Rewrite)

Photo taken from Julia Turner's Slate article, "The End of Pens: Is handwriting worth saving?"

Society’s digital age seems to usher in faster and better ways of communication, as well as the end of “the handwriting” era.  In her intriguing article, Julia Turner, Slate’s Deputy Editor and regular on Slate’s Culture Gabfest Podcast, addresses this new phenomenon.  She frames her points in the context of a book review of The Missing Ink (Philip Hensher), which traces handwriting across the centuries.  Turner explains how handwriting has evolved as cultures attempt to make writing speedier and more legible.  However, handwriting today is often replaced with typing on technological devices, which raises the question: is handwriting even something worth preserving?

Turner’s statements gain credibility because she wrote some of her article by hand (scanned, of course, into the typed computer article).  This imagery reinforces some of her main points by allowing her to show and not just tell.  Turner uses several different handwriting styles throughout the article, ranging from a print-cursive hybrid (handwriting Turner learned in grade school) to a completely uppercase, block letter font (learned in an architecture class; shown in picture), to the scribbled version of the block font (a style she reverts to when rushing).  This plethora of fonts reflects Turner’s words and effectively furthers her points, as they trigger reactions in the reader based on how Turner writes as well as their own personal associations with writing styles.  The contrast between the block and scribbled block handwriting reminded me of disparities in my own handwriting depending on the context of my writing, an appeal to cultural memory that really helped Turner’s points to hit home.  Turner’s decision to arrange the points in the article in a cause and effect fashion helps the audience to better understand what is being said.  For instance, Turner begins the article discussing her handwriting at a young age, and in chronologically tracing her handwriting’s progression is able to weave in specific points from Hensher’s book.  This logical progression makes it harder for her points to be disputed because they occur in such a natural way and allow her to build up evidence furthering the article’s central question.

Turner’s compelling evidence for both sides of the handwriting preservation dilemma render this question difficult to answer.  However, based on the effects of the different handwritings used in the article, I do feel it is worth preserving.  In allowing her audience (teenage and older Americans interested in aspects of culture and their evolution) to ponder this question, Turner successfully fulfills her purpose of convincing her audience that Hensher’s book is both applicable and interesting.

"Jesus Shaves"

In “partie deux” (part two) of Me Talk Pretty One Day, author David Sedaris demonstrates once again his skillful command of language and ability to make an audience laugh.  These two assets feature prominently in the story “Jesus Shaves.”  This story centers around one of Sedaris’ memorable French classes, in which he and his classmates learn about French holidays and then attempt to explain to a Moroccan student (with their limited French vocabulary) the basics of Easter.  The rhetorical devices used by Sedaris effectively enhance his delivery and influence the reader’s perception of different characters, making this story especially memorable.

The most prominent device Sedaris uses is his blurring of French and English by writing in English but using French syntax.  This technique, coupled with Sedaris’ creative phrasing (“It [Easter] is a party for the little boy of G-d who call his self Jesus…” [177]) brings Sedaris’ amateur French class to life for the reader.  This style is enhanced through Sedaris’ usage of simile to create humorous and lasting imagery.  For instance, in France there is no Easter bunny but instead an Easter bell, which for Sedaris is “…like saying that come Christmas, a magic dustpan flies in from the North Pole, led by eight flying cinder blocks,” (179).  In addition to inducing laughter, these comparisons play upon the reader’s cultural memory.  To an audience (particularly Americans who love to laugh but are mature enough to handle some explicit and racy language) that actually understands and has specific associations with Easter of bunnies and chocolate and with Christmas of Santa Claus delivering presents with his sleigh of reindeer, the holiday explanations presented by Sedaris and the members of his class seem especially out of place and thus funny.  By taking aspects of life familiar to his audience and twisting them into funny anecdotes, Sedaris’ words leave a lasting impression.

It is ironic that for someone with such a strong facility for the English language, Sedaris makes so many French “faux pas”.  These “mistakes”, however, lend originality and humor to Sedaris’ writing, allowing him to effectively complete his purpose of entertaining his audience with personal anecdotes.

La Revue Misérable

 

 

     In his critique of the movie Les Misérables, which appeared in The New Yorker, David Denby (staff writer and film critic at The New Yorker since 1998) attacks many of the film’s intrinsic elements.  Beginning with its setting, and progressing through its staging, singing, actors, music, connections to life, and use of emotion, Denby explains how the movie only featured melodramatic scenes.  He finds fault with the gray, drab, and wet (both through tears and rain) atmosphere of the movie, its “elemental” use of emotion and disconnect with actual life, even suggesting two “cures” at the end of his article for those still “suffering from absorption in ‘Les Mis’ ”.  Denby effectively uses rhetorical questioning to challenge the audience’s preconceived beliefs about Les Mis, which helps to raise doubt and uncertainty in their minds.  However, he is unable to provide much external evidence to support his opinions.  Denby seems to have targeted the review specifically at Les Mis fans and lovers, with the intention of highlighting for them all the ways in which Les Mis the movie fails to deliver the incredible, emotional, and complex story of its written counterpart.  However, I think the tautology of Denby’s writing (ironically, the same overuse of pathos to make points for which he condemned the movie) detracted from the overall strength of his claims.  Perhaps a less ardent Les Mis fan would disagree, but I think Denby’s negative tone and highly critical approach interfered with his ability to successfully accomplish his purpose.