Aristotle: "Avoid Ambiguities"

I. Aristotle’s Most Straightforward Word

Aristotle is sounding a lot like my linguist friend Richard Rhodes again. In Book III, Chapter 5, of the Rhetoric, Aristotle starts in on “correctness of language,” or “grammatical correctness,” or “purity” depending on who’s doing the translating into English. Then Aristotle (quite objectively mind you) gives five rules to make a speech or a written composition “easy to read and therefore easy to deliver.” (Aristotle also disparages five other people as examples of poor communicators who break the five rules). If I can make this post easy to read, then let me focus on just a single rule, Rule #3: “Avoid Ambiguities.” The questions we might ask are these: (a) whether we can meet Aristotle’s standards for “correctness of language,” (b) specifically whether we can even keep Rule #3 and “avoid ambiguities,” and (c) whether Aristotle really was better at communicating by his own standards than the people he names as bad communicators.

II. the outline

And let me spell out the intended outline for this blog post: I. (above) is my introduction with thesis statement at the end. II. (here then) I give this blog outline. III. (below) I’ll give all my blogger friend Lingamish needs to read (in English) first. IV. (then below that) I’ll give the clearest we’ve got from Aristotle in his Greek. V. (next) We’ll look at the word Aristotle uses for “ambiguities” so as to have his students avoid them. VI. (following that) We’ll look at how Homer and Hesiod used that word, and how the earliest Bible translators used that term. VII. We’ll foolishly conjecture about the difference an afrafeminist translation might make. VIII. Finally, we’ll offer some conclusions, hoping allthewhile we’ve avoided ambiguities and have been otherwise correct and have written something (again) that is easy to read, for that is the goal of all good writing and good translation of the Greek isn’t it?

III. the English translation (from Rhys Roberts)

Such, then, are the ingredients of which speech is composed. The foundation of good style is correctness of language, which falls under five heads…

The third is to avoid ambiguities; unless, indeed, you definitely desire to be ambiguous, as those do who have nothing to say but are pretending to mean something. Such people are apt to put that sort of thing into verse. Empedocles, for instance, by his long circumlocutions imposes on his hearers; these are affected in the same way as most people are when they listen to diviners, whose ambiguous utterances are received with nods of acquiescence –

“Croesus by crossing the Halys will ruin a mighty realm.”

[1407b] Diviners use these vague generalities about the matter in hand because their predictions are thus, as a rule, less likely to be falsified. We are more likely to be right, in the game of "odd and even," if we simply guess "even" or "odd" than if we guess at the actual number; and the oracle-monger is more likely to be right if he simply says that a thing will happen than if he says when it will happen, and therefore he refuses to add a definite date. All these ambiguities have the same sort of effect, and are to be avoided unless we have some such object as that mentioned.

…It is a general rule that a written composition should be easy to read and therefore easy to deliver.

IV. Aristotle’s Clear Greek (which you’d think should be τὸ ἑλληνίζειν )

ὁ μὲν οὐ̂ν λόγος συντίθεται ἐκ τούτων, ἔστι δ’ ἀρχὴ τη̂ς λέξεως τὸ ἑλληνίζειν : του̂το δ’ ἐστὶν ἐν πέντε,…

τρίτον μὴ ἀμφιβόλοις . του̂το δ’ ἂν μὴ τἀναντία προαιρη̂ται, ὅπερ ποιου̂σιν ὅταν μηδὲν μὲν ἔχωσι λέγειν, προσποιω̂νται δέ τι λέγειν: οἱ γὰρ τοιου̂τοι ἐν ποιήσει λέγουσιν ταυ̂τα, οἱ̂ον ̓Εμπεδοκλη̂ς: φενακίζει γὰρ τὸ κύκλῳ πολὺ ὄν, καὶ πάσχουσιν οἱ ἀκροαταὶ ὅπερ οἱ πολλοὶ παρὰ τοι̂ς μάντεσιν: ὅταν γὰρ λέγωσιν ἀμφίβολα, συμπαρανεύουσιν—

Κροι̂σος ̔́Αλυν διαβὰς μεγάλην ἀρχὴν καταλύσει

[1407b] --καὶ διὰ τὸ ὅλως ἔλαττον εἰ̂ναι ἁμάρτημα διὰ τω̂ν γενω̂ν του̂ πράγματος λέγουσιν οἱ μάντεις: τύχοι γὰρ ἄν τις μα̂λλον ἐν τοι̂ς ἀρτιασμοι̂ς ἄρτια ἢ περισσὰ εἰπὼν μα̂λλον ἢ πόσα ἔχει, καὶ τὸ ὅτι ἔσται ἢ τὸ πότε, διὸ οἱ χρησμολόγοι οὐ προσορίζονται τὸ πότε . ἅπαντα δὴ ταυ̂τα ὅμοια, ὥστ’ ἂν μὴ τοιούτου τινὸς ἕνεκα, φευκτέον.

…ὅλως δὲ δει̂ εὐανάγνωστον εἰ̂ναι τὸ γεγραμμένον καὶ εὔφραστον

V. Aristotle’s Word for “Ambiguities”

As we all can see, Aristotle’s word for “ambiguities” is clearly ἀμφιβόλοις (which we can transliterate amphibolois) or its variant ἀμφίβολα (which we can transliterate amphibola). And, indeed, George A. Kennedy translates Aristotle’s Rule #3 this way: “Third is not to use amphibolies.” Lest that’s not clear enough, Kennedy provides his English readers here his footnote 61: “An amphiboly (lit. ‘what shoots both ways’) is an equivocation based on a word or phrase with an ambiguous meaning, often creating a fallacious argument; see 3.18.5.” (So, for the sake of clarity, let’s pretend we don’t see the circularity in Kennedy’s footnote’s argument). Clear enough? Good.

VI.A. Ancient Poets’ Uses of His Word for “Ambiguities”

Don’t we wish the ancient poet Sappho had used the word, as ambiguous as the fragments of her writings to us seem today? I’ll have to admit to blogger friend Suzanne that the closest I’ve found is this fragment as quoted by Hermogenes and then by Demetrius long after she was gone: αμφὶ δ᾽ ὔδωρ. (And this doesn’t even explain why the variant text Anne Carson translates is instead this: ἐν δ᾽ ὔδωρ).

Not to worry, the writings of the ancient men are much better preserved! Here’s Homer first and then Hesiod.

The Illiad (17, line 742; and 23, line 97):

οἳ δ' ὥς θ' ἡμίονοι κρατερὸν μένος ἀμφιβαλόντες

ἀλλά μοι ἆσσον στῆθι: μίνυνθά περ ἀμφιβαλόντε

The Odyssey (6, line 178; 17, line 344; 22, line 103; and 23, line 192):

ἄστυ δέ μοι δεῖξον, δὸς δὲ ῥάκος ἀμφιβαλέσθαι,

καὶ κρέας, ὥς οἱ χεῖρες ἐχάνδανον ἀμφιβαλόντι

αὐτός τ' ἀμφιβαλεῦμαι ἰών, δώσω δὲ συβώτῃ

τῷ δ' ἐγὼ ἀμφιβαλὼν θάλαμον δέμον, ὄφρ' ἐτέλεσσα,

Work and Days (of Hesiod, lines 545 and 787):

ὑετοῦ ἀμφιβάλῃ ἀλέην: κεφαλῆφι δ' ὕπερθεν

σηκόν τ' ἀμφιβαλεῖν ποιμνήϊον ἤπιον ἦμαρ

So how to translate these (and still avoid ambiguities)? Well, Sappho is talking about the coolness “wrapped around” the waters, we infer. And that’s just not good enough. So here’s what the men of literature are saying.

The Illiad (17, line 742; and 23, line 97):

driving strength “thrown around” the mules;

an “embrace around” a brother by another brother.

The Odyssey (6, line 178; 17, line 344; 22, line 103; and 23, line 192):

clothing to be thrown around our hero by the queen;

hands thrown around a whole loaf and pork to eat;

hands thrown around helmet, a shield, and two spears;

a chamber compartment put around a make-shift shelter.

Work and Days (lines 545 and 787):

a raincoat thrown over one’s back to keep one dry;

a fence built around a sheep pen.

VI.B. 1st Bible Translators Uses of His Word for “Ambiguities”

Well, without further adu, let’s leave the silly poets with all their throwing around and over and all their putting around these “ambiguities.” They don’t have Aristotle to critique or to correct them yet.

Let’s get to the first Bible translators, who were commissioned in the great city that Aristotle’s great student established: Alexandria. Here’s how these Jews translated the old Hebrew (albeit some poetry) into newer Greek:

Psalms 141:10 (aka 140:10 for the LXX)

πεσοῦνται ἐν ἀμφιβλήστρῳ αὐτοῦ ἁμαρτωλοί κατὰ μόνας εἰμὶ ἐγὼ ἕως οὗ ἂν παρέλθω

Ecclesiastes (aka Qoheleth for the LXX) 9:12

ὅτι καί γε οὐκ ἔγνω ὁ ἄνθρωπος τὸν καιρὸν αὐτοῦ ὡς οἱ ἰχθύες οἱ θηρευόμενοι ἐν ἀμφιβλήστρῳ κακῷ καὶ ὡς ὄρνεα τὰ θηρευόμενα ἐν παγίδι ὡς αὐτὰ παγιδεύονται οἱ υἱοὶ το ῦἀνθρώπου εἰς καιρὸν πονηρόν ὅταν ἐπιπέσῃ ἐπ αὐτοὺς ἄφνω

Isaiah 19:8

καὶ στενάξουσιν οἱ ἁλεεῖς καὶ στενάξουσιν πάντες οἱ βάλλοντες ἄγκιστρον εἰς τὸν ποταμόν καὶ οἱ βάλλοντες σαγήνας καὶ οἱ ἀμφιβολεῖς πενθήσουσιν

Habakkuk 1:15, 16, 17

συντέλειαν ἐν ἀγκίστρῳ ἀνέσπασεν καὶ εἵλκυσεν αὐτὸν ἐν ἀμφιβλήστρῳ καὶ συνήγαγεν αὐτὸν ἐν ταῖς σαγήναις αὐτοῦ ἕνεκεν τούτου εὐφρανθήσεται καὶ χαρήσεται ἡ καρδία αὐτοῦ

ἕνεκεν τούτου θύσει τῇ σαγήνῃ αὐτοῦ καὶ θυμιάσει τῷ ἀμφιβλήστρῳ αὐτοῦ ὅτι ἐν αὐτοῖς ἐλίπανεν μερίδα αὐτοῦ καὶ τὰ βρώματα αὐτοῦ ἐκλεκτά

διὰ τοῦτο ἀμφιβαλεῖ τὸ ἀμφίβληστρον αὐτοῦ καὶ διὰ παντὸς ἀποκτέννειν ἔθνη οὐ φείσεται

And here’s how a couple of followers of Joshua (aka Jesus) used even newer Greek including Aristotle’s old word:

Matthew 4:18

περιπατῶν δὲ παρὰ τὴν θάλασσαν τῆς Γαλιλαίας εἶδεν δύο ἀδελφούς Σίμωνα τὸν λεγόμενον Πέτρον καὶ Ἀνδρέαν τὸν ἀδελφὸν αὐτοῦ βάλλοντας ἀμφίβληστρον εἰς τὴν θάλασσαν ἦσαν γὰρ ἁλιεῖς

Mark 1:16

καὶ παράγων παρὰ τὴν θάλασσαν τῆς Γαλιλαίας εἶδεν Σίμωνα καὶ Ἀνδρέαν τὸν ἀδελφὸν Σίμωνος ἀμφιβάλλοντας ἐν τῇ θαλάσσῃ ἦσαν γὰρ ἁλιεῖς

By now, it should be clear that the word Aristotle seems to use for “ambiguities” the straightforward term that beginning Bible translators use for “fish nets.”

VII. Foolish Ambiguous (Feminist) Conjecture

Now, let’s imagine. Let’s imagine that Pythias and Pythias (Aristotle’s first wife and their daughter) pick up a copy of Aristotle’s Rhetoric one day while he is off at the academy teaching the boys. Let’s imagine they read what we’ve read in our section IV above. Let’s imagine that Pythias says to her mother Pythias (in the Hellene mother tongue, of course): “Mom, why does Dad say ‘No Throw-Wraps’ when speaking or writing”? Would the girl be so foolish to imagine her mother might agree that Aristotle is using a word that poets have used to throw a wrap around a body? Isn’t there ambiguity here that they and the poets are creating? One single word is thrown around so many different bodies: 1) coolness wrapped around a body of water; 2) driving strength thrown around the body of beasts; 3) siblings’ arms thrown around one another in a hug; 4) the queen’s clothing granted around our hero’s tired physique; 5) hungry grateful hands on satisfying bread and sweet pig meat; 6) an entire warring wardrobe fit well on one mighty-fit warrior; 7) a room of one’s own (with furniture perhaps); 8) a London-Fog style overcoat; 9) a secure place to keep the sheep; and (with a great stretch of the imagination for the future) 10) a bunch of fish nets (and this is well before anyone imagined fish-net stockings).

VII. Conclusion

I wish I could conclude here the way Kenneth L Pike does: with a poem. But there’s too much ambiguity in that, and besides it was the poets who started all the confusion in the first place. I’m really afraid we’re going to have to end by saying Aristotle finds himself in a pickle here. No wonder the objectivist never showed his Rhetoric to the girls at home. No wonder he silences those females. No wonder he teaches the educated boys τὸ ἑλληνίζειν (or “pure correct Greek”) by μὴ ἀμφιβόλοις.