“I don’t believe genres exists!” shouted a classmate during our graduate seminar on rhetorical methods. Although his outburst was rude and violated any common sense of decorum, his provocative statement deserves further inquiry.[1]
So, what exactly is a rhetorical genre? Jamieson and Campbell define a genre as, “a complex, an amalgam, a constellation of substantive, situational, and stylistic elements.”[2] Their focus on developing methods of genre criticism is rooted on the identification of reoccurring rhetorical acts. Furthermore, Jamieson and Hall argue the purpose of generic criticism:
Enables us to appreciate the idiosyncratic as well as the recurrent, to recognize the appropriate and sensitive response to a complex situation. It enables a critic to describe the special characteristics of an address, to identify when conflicting demands from the audience, the institution, and the rhetor will arise, the circumstances under which elements from different genres are demanded, and the rhetorical constraints governing their successful combination.[3]
This compact description provides two important guidelines for applying generic criticism. First, the critic must recognize the underlying complex situation followed by identifying the special characteristics of the text. Second, genre criticism seeks to understand the dynamics between the rhetorical situation, audience, and rhetor.
Within the surrounding discussions of genre criticism and theory, some scholars have noted the importance of the situational element above the stylistic and substantial features. Traditional studies of genre consider the situation as “the force responsible for discourse production.”[4] Jamieson and Campbell argue that a genre is “called forth by complex situations and purposes and, as such, are transitory and situation-bound.[5]”
These perspectives on genre studies raise an interesting question about whether a genre can exist without a situation? I’ve attempted to think of a genre that exists without a situation and have come short. I think more importantly, scholars of rhetorical criticism should consider the possibility of developing a Burke style ratio approach to understanding genres. In other words, the work by Kenneth Burke on dramatism and the pentad encourages critics to apply ratios between the elements of the pentad to discover the underlying motives behind a rhetorical act. Applying the terms of genre criticism (substantive, stylistic, and situational) may provide a key opportunity for contemporary rhetorical studies to expand our understanding of genres.
In response to the claim “genres don’t exist,” I would argue not only do genres exists, but genres are evident almost in all aspect of daily discourse and communication.
[1] The narrative is slightly blown out of proportion. While these events truly did occur, my description of the account needs no further discussion.
[2] Jamieson, K.H., & Campbell, K.K. (Eds). (1978). Form and Genre: Shaping Rhetorical Action. Falls Church: Speech Communication Association.
[3] Jamieson, K.H., & Campbell, K.K. (1982). Rhetorical hybrids: Fusions of generic elements. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 68, 146-157.
[4] Benoit, W.L. (2000). Beyond genre theory: the genesis of rhetorical action. Communication Monographs, 67(2), 178-192.
[5] Jamieson, K.H., & Campbell, K.K. (Eds). (1978). Form and Genre: Shaping Rhetorical Action. Falls Church: Speech Communication Association.
I think my actual remark was: I don't believe in genre. I never argued they don't exist. However, if I had argued existence, then in response to your final paragraph, I would like to point out that Santa Claus is also evident in many "aspect[s] of daily discourse and communication," but that, much to my childhood's chagrin, He (like genre) does not exist. :)
ReplyDeleteIn all fairness, I think the double nature of a genre as being both situated and transitory is the most troubling claim for the existence of genre. We might be able to find similarities between rhetorics, but if we're to take the claim about situated-ness seriously, then I have to wonder how useful genre is.
To me, the situated-ness of a text implies a necessary relationship between a text and a context. So a genre, in this sense, always emerges from a situation. As Jamieson & Campbell say, it is always situation-bound. From what I understand, this allows a rhetorician to understand the relationship a particular text has between other texts in similar situations. In this sense, genre provides a useful analytical component. However, as discussed in class, what makes a genre analytically useful is the way in which it allows a critic to demonstrate the ways in which a text does not perform its generic sensibilities. So, genre allows a critic to classify a text based on its situation, but to move beyond classification, it is forced to say that is in, fact, not generic—that the text somehow defies the conventions of the situation to which the genre is bound. If a text does not depart (if it does not transition, if it is not transitory), then what we have is mere classification, which would not in fact be analysis, but rather diagnosis.
However, the second aspect of the double nature of genre is that it is transitory, which further complicates things. As transitory, a genre is uprooted from situation, meaning it doesn't dwell in situation. To be transitory is to be temporary, it is the opposite of permanence. I think this has some troubling implications for genre. In the first instance, genre emerges from the situated-ness of a text, which allows for a text to be classified. But, if genre is not bound to situation, (if it is transitory, if there is no permanent genre), then even the diagnosis I mention in the case of situation becomes impossible, because what we consider a genre would always be changing. The transitory nature of genre makes it too unstable to be useful even for diagnosis. So even if we could say “this text resembles these texts,” as soon as we say, “except for,” we already have a departure from genre. And as soon as a text has been excepted, then it is no longer part of that genre—literally emptying genre of any significance. Genre exists only historically in this sense. It is retrospective.
Taking these two characteristics together, a genre’s situational and transitory character, genre either devolves into diagnosis (based on its situated-ness), or upon its usefulness for analysis (by demonstrating how a text is transitory), it then ceases to exist as a substantive category. In other words, if we look at genre as both situational and transitory, it is only useful as a means of analyzing departure from genre. And a genre with no part would be no genre at all.
So, even if genre did exist, it wouldn’t be very useful. And if it were analytically useful, then it wouldn’t be genre. This is what I mean when I say I don’t believe in genre.
Well, perhaps I’m just being contrarian…
I do have to agree with Isaac; I am troubled by the idea of using genre to "diagnose" a text. Despite this, I find it a highly useful critical method. I wonder if these tensions can be resolved by using genre as an "entry point" (uncomfortable feminist symbolism, thanks Butler!) after which we can diverge and go off in other directions...
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