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The Trivium: The Liberal Arts of Logic, Grammar, and Rhetoric
The Trivium guides the reader through a clarifying and rigorous account of logic, grammar, and rhetoric. A thorough presentation of general grammar, propositions, syllogisms, enthymemes, fallacies, poetics, figurative language, and metrical discourse--accompanied by lucid graphics and enlivened by examples from Shakespeare, Milton, Plato, and others-makes The Trivium a perfect book for teachers, students, writers, lawyers, and all serious users of language.
292 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1937
About the author
Miriam Joseph
10 books30 followersSister Miriam Joseph Rauh, C.S.C., PhD (1898–1982) was a member of the Sisters of the Holy Cross. She received her doctorate from Columbia University and was Professor of English at Saint Mary's College from 1931 to 1960. She is the author of several books including The Trivium which is a text she developed as part of the core curriculum of Saint Mary's College. It discusses the medieval liberal arts education based upon grammar, logic, and rhetoric.
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July 20, 2012
This dense, authoritative textbook takes all of Aristotle's teachings on logic, grammar, and rhetoric, and some of his teachings of poetics, adds some of the insights gained in the subsequent centuries, and presents it in a well-organized flow.
Sister Miriam Joseph (1898-1982) was an American nun who, inspired by a lecture by philosopher Mortimer J. Adler on the liberal arts, developed a course on the language arts at Saint Mary's College which she called "The Trivium." There being no existing textbook for it, she wrote her own, and The Trivium was published in 1937. And, luckily for those of us who would like to think, write, and read clearly, it's still in print.
I have decided to do my best to acquire a liberal education through my own efforts. Toward that end I have read, so far, the two-volume Syntopicon of the Britannica Great Books of the Western World series, several other works by Mortimer J. Adler, Classical Rhetoric for the Modern Student by Edward P. J. Corbett, all six works of the Organon of Aristotle, plus Robin Smith's guide to Aristotle's Prior Analytics. Now, having read Sister Miriam Joseph's book, I think that her text should be the master text for the student of the liberal arts, and all other works, including Aristotle's originals, should be read as supplements. Sister Miriam has boiled down and systematized the material, connecting and relating all the different aspects for the student.
For a book just 292 pages long, its scope is shockingly wide and deep. The student is taken on a sometimes overwhelming journey from metaphysics (the nature of reality and experience) to grammar (how language reflects our thoughts about reality) to logic (how clear statements can be ordered to discover truth) to rhetoric (how statements can be structured in discourses to persuade others). Every thought presented in the book is clear, complete, and connected with everything else. There is no vagueness, no subjectivity, no inconclusiveness.
I was fascinated to read about the concept of "general grammar", as distinct from the "special grammars" of specific languages: general grammar is the way that speech conforms to thought. Sister Miriam shows how the familiar parts of speech (nouns, verbs, adjectives, etc.) correspond to Aristotle's "categories" of thought: the specific ways in which the mind is able to cognize reality.
This book is not meant to be read casually. It is a whole course, or really a whole degree program, in a single binding. To master this material you will have to do a great deal of work, but the book itself contains only a few exercises; it would be great if some generous soul developed a workbook with plenty of exercises and quizzes to be used along with Sister Miriam's text. For my part I'm going back and boiling the text down into longhand notes, and trying to come up with examples and exercises of my own.
I'm doing this because I believe that this material is worth mastering. Its loss from our educational system--a loss that has been progressive, apparently, since about the 14th century--has been a calamity. Homo sapiens has named himself after his supposed intellectual powers, and we are certainly the only species to have developed written language. Why would we not want, as individuals, to develop these powers? to take hold of as much of our specific nature as we can? to be as fully human as we can?
Well, I do, anyway. And if that possibility also appeals to you, this text is an excellent place to start. Start soon, for the journey is not short. But whenever you start, Sister Miriam has done her utmost to make your journey as easy as it can be made.
Sister Miriam Joseph (1898-1982) was an American nun who, inspired by a lecture by philosopher Mortimer J. Adler on the liberal arts, developed a course on the language arts at Saint Mary's College which she called "The Trivium." There being no existing textbook for it, she wrote her own, and The Trivium was published in 1937. And, luckily for those of us who would like to think, write, and read clearly, it's still in print.
I have decided to do my best to acquire a liberal education through my own efforts. Toward that end I have read, so far, the two-volume Syntopicon of the Britannica Great Books of the Western World series, several other works by Mortimer J. Adler, Classical Rhetoric for the Modern Student by Edward P. J. Corbett, all six works of the Organon of Aristotle, plus Robin Smith's guide to Aristotle's Prior Analytics. Now, having read Sister Miriam Joseph's book, I think that her text should be the master text for the student of the liberal arts, and all other works, including Aristotle's originals, should be read as supplements. Sister Miriam has boiled down and systematized the material, connecting and relating all the different aspects for the student.
For a book just 292 pages long, its scope is shockingly wide and deep. The student is taken on a sometimes overwhelming journey from metaphysics (the nature of reality and experience) to grammar (how language reflects our thoughts about reality) to logic (how clear statements can be ordered to discover truth) to rhetoric (how statements can be structured in discourses to persuade others). Every thought presented in the book is clear, complete, and connected with everything else. There is no vagueness, no subjectivity, no inconclusiveness.
I was fascinated to read about the concept of "general grammar", as distinct from the "special grammars" of specific languages: general grammar is the way that speech conforms to thought. Sister Miriam shows how the familiar parts of speech (nouns, verbs, adjectives, etc.) correspond to Aristotle's "categories" of thought: the specific ways in which the mind is able to cognize reality.
This book is not meant to be read casually. It is a whole course, or really a whole degree program, in a single binding. To master this material you will have to do a great deal of work, but the book itself contains only a few exercises; it would be great if some generous soul developed a workbook with plenty of exercises and quizzes to be used along with Sister Miriam's text. For my part I'm going back and boiling the text down into longhand notes, and trying to come up with examples and exercises of my own.
I'm doing this because I believe that this material is worth mastering. Its loss from our educational system--a loss that has been progressive, apparently, since about the 14th century--has been a calamity. Homo sapiens has named himself after his supposed intellectual powers, and we are certainly the only species to have developed written language. Why would we not want, as individuals, to develop these powers? to take hold of as much of our specific nature as we can? to be as fully human as we can?
Well, I do, anyway. And if that possibility also appeals to you, this text is an excellent place to start. Start soon, for the journey is not short. But whenever you start, Sister Miriam has done her utmost to make your journey as easy as it can be made.
October 7, 2016
This book is either good or not good. This book is not good. Therefore, it is good.
For a long time I’ve been curious about older models of education. Although our knowledge of the world has no doubt advanced, I can’t help wondering if our education has done likewise. Read a newspaper or a letter from one hundred or so years ago, and it seems obvious that people were generally more literate and articulate back then. Of course, such impressions are not trustworthy; and there are a great many factors to take into account. Idealizing the past is, after all, the easiest thing in the world. For this reason, I wanted to experience the older paradigm for myself. This book was the perfect place to start.
This book is boring. Boring is an adjective. Therefore, this book is an adjective.
Sister Miriam Joseph wrote this book after hearing a lecture by Mortimer Adler, the famous advocate of ‘Great Books.’ It was created to be a textbook for a freshman liberal arts class in Saint Mary’s College. As its name indicates, the substance of the book consists of three subjects: grammar, logic, and rhetoric. These are taught in the traditional scholastic/Aristotelian form, relying heavily on Aristotle’s Organon, Rhetoric, and Poetics.
This book is orange. Mangos are orange. Therefore, this book is a mango.
In style, this book is remarkably dry. Joseph strove for a maximum of compression and brevity; often it is little more than an outline. When you add to this the plentiful technical terms—of grammar, logic, and rhetoric—you get a pretty slow-going read. Indeed, it really isn’t meant to be read at all, but to be studied as basis of an entire course. Be that as it may, the prose is often ponderous.
Aristotle was right about everything. This book agrees with Aristotle. Therefore, this book is right about everything.
I can’t deny that the scholastic Aristotelian worldview presented here has a certain appeal. The system seems to explain everything. Metaphysics is mirrored in logic, logic represented in grammar, and grammar is the backbone of rhetoric. There is thus a natural chain connecting the nature of reality, the rules of thought, the structure of language, and the art of persuasion.
No nuns are men. Some Muslims are not men. Therefore, some Muslims are nuns.
My problem is that I don’t find this system rewarding, appealing, or convincing. I don’t agree with Aristotle’s metaphysics, I don’t find the grammar accurate, I don’t think syllogisms are terribly useful, and I believe you can get better advice on rhetoric from style guides. The profusion of jargon, diagrams, and rules might give this system an air of rigor; but to me it often seems mere pedantry. It is hard for me to endorse a system of language and thought that leads to prose I don’t like and conclusions with which I disagree. If people were truly more linguistically adept in the past, I don't think it was due to this paradigm.
No Christians are atheists. No atheists are priests. Therefore, all Christians are priests.
Nevertheless, I think this book is worth reading for the light it sheds on a bygone educational model. Having read Aristotle’s originals, I can say that this is an admirable summary and exposition. Joseph managed to present a useable handbook of Aristotelian thought for the modern student—an impressive feat. And if this book inspires its readers to treat arguments rigorously and to take care with their language, then I suppose its worth all the jargon you can chew.
Good reasoning is sound. Sound is loud. Therefore, good reasoning is loud.
May 18, 2010
If you can master this book it is worth more than any college education money can buy. The only reason this doesn't get five stars is because it's a bit on the difficult side. There are other books on the trivium that may be a bit easier to start with but this book has everything plus wonderful examples from the Bible to Shakespeare. After mastering this book you will easily distinguish truth from error. The trivium was how educated people from the classical age up through the 19th century. With its absence is it any wonder why we're the dumbest generation? Any one considered educated needs to read this. Highly recommended!
August 9, 2008
I should preface this by saying that this is a textbook, used in the author's Freshman English classes. Yet, hers was never typical of such classes. She did not just teach the students a little grammar, she taught them how to think. I can imagine her classes must have been one of those grueling, interminable ordeals that students so love to bemoan while in the midst of it, but that they boast about after the fact. She studied under Mortimer J. Adler, so it comes as no surprise that she is well versed in classics. If you love to learn, this is the place to start.
I cannot say that this was always a pleasurable read, the chapters on logic in particular seemed long and lumbering, there was just so much there that needed more careful study than I was willing to give; however, I learned so much from the early chapters on grammar that it kept me going in hopes of learning more. It was surprising to me that I could learn so much about grammar, since I have studied the topic quite a bit in my time. Sister Mariam Joseph wastes no time on the basics. In the grammar section, she introduces such topics as the ten categories of being: substance, quality, quantity, relation, action, passion, time, space, posture, and habiliment. She has a section on ambiguity, and how it arises, including one variety I had never heard about: "Ambiguity arising from imposition and intention." Her section on Mode or Mood also took my by surprise, explaining the four modes: indicative, potential, interrogative and volitive. The only problem with this book is that it packs so much information into such a small package, that you miss the oportunity that a classroom would provide of working through exercises to consolidate what you've learned. This is a book that may need to be read many times.
My favorite part, however, was the rhetoric section. She has packed volumes worth of information on writing into forty short pages. It left me longing for more. I will be purchasing another of her works, Shakespeare's Use of the Arts of Language, very soon. I feel that it will expand on what is offered in this volume. I can't wait to read it.
I cannot say that this was always a pleasurable read, the chapters on logic in particular seemed long and lumbering, there was just so much there that needed more careful study than I was willing to give; however, I learned so much from the early chapters on grammar that it kept me going in hopes of learning more. It was surprising to me that I could learn so much about grammar, since I have studied the topic quite a bit in my time. Sister Mariam Joseph wastes no time on the basics. In the grammar section, she introduces such topics as the ten categories of being: substance, quality, quantity, relation, action, passion, time, space, posture, and habiliment. She has a section on ambiguity, and how it arises, including one variety I had never heard about: "Ambiguity arising from imposition and intention." Her section on Mode or Mood also took my by surprise, explaining the four modes: indicative, potential, interrogative and volitive. The only problem with this book is that it packs so much information into such a small package, that you miss the oportunity that a classroom would provide of working through exercises to consolidate what you've learned. This is a book that may need to be read many times.
My favorite part, however, was the rhetoric section. She has packed volumes worth of information on writing into forty short pages. It left me longing for more. I will be purchasing another of her works, Shakespeare's Use of the Arts of Language, very soon. I feel that it will expand on what is offered in this volume. I can't wait to read it.
November 24, 2019
This book teaches two lessons: first, the humanities can, and should, have rigor associated with them; and second, it teaches how to obtain and apply that rigor. While the book requires some effort to read, for those interested in logic, grammar, rhetoric, and the liberal arts, the effort is richly rewarded.
The book opens with a discussion on the liberal arts and then moves to a discussion of the science of grammar. This grammar is not about subject-verb agreement and punctuation, it is about how the rules of language lend themselves to clarity of thought and communication. From there is moves into an extensive logic section talking extensively about deductive reasoning and adding a section on inductive reasoning. Finally, it talks about rhetoric and why it is important.
This is a book about thinking and communication, and anyone who wants to strengthen their ability to do both can do so by spending time with this book. Though I have finished it, I am not done with it, and will spend some time going over some of the sections again.
All of that said, while I did enjoy this book, it is rather academic. It sometimes seems rather far from the real world, though somehow, it manages to reconnect with everyday life.
The book opens with a discussion on the liberal arts and then moves to a discussion of the science of grammar. This grammar is not about subject-verb agreement and punctuation, it is about how the rules of language lend themselves to clarity of thought and communication. From there is moves into an extensive logic section talking extensively about deductive reasoning and adding a section on inductive reasoning. Finally, it talks about rhetoric and why it is important.
This is a book about thinking and communication, and anyone who wants to strengthen their ability to do both can do so by spending time with this book. Though I have finished it, I am not done with it, and will spend some time going over some of the sections again.
All of that said, while I did enjoy this book, it is rather academic. It sometimes seems rather far from the real world, though somehow, it manages to reconnect with everyday life.
June 3, 2008
My mind benefited more from this book than from all my years in public schools ... but does this really surprise anyone?
August 29, 2018
Excellent book for anybody who wants to learn how to think. Clear and relevant. Covers most of the stuff we didn't learn in school lol - dumb modern education
September 7, 2021
Rather than give my own review on this one, I'm going to let one of my literary betters do it for me:
That I, whose experience of teaching is extremely limited, and whose life of recent years has been almost wholly out of touch with educational circles, should presume to discuss education is a matter, surely, that calls for no apology. It is a kind of behaviour to which the present climate of opinion is wholly favourable. Bishops air their opinions about economics; biologists, about metaphysics; celibates, about matrimony; inorganic chemists about theology; the most irrelevant people are appointed to highly-technical ministries; and plain, blunt men write to the papers to say that Epstein and Picasso do not know how to draw. Up to a certain point, and provided that the criticisms are made with a reasonable modesty, these activities are commendable. Too much specialisation is not a good thing. There is also one excellent reason why the veriest amateur may feel entitled to have an opinion about education. For if we are not all professional teachers, we have all, at some time or other, been taught. Even if we learnt nothing--perhaps in particular if we learnt nothing--our contribution to the discussion may have a potential value.
Without apology, then, I will begin. But since much that I have to say is highly controversial, it will be pleasant to start with a proposition with which, I feel confident, all teachers will cordially agree; and that is, that they all work much too hard and have far too many things to do. One has only to look at any school or examination syllabus to see that it is cluttered up with a great variety of exhausting subjects which they are called upon to teach, and the teaching of which sadly interferes with what every thoughtful mind will allow to be their proper duties, such as distributing milk, supervising meals, taking cloak-room duty, weighing and measuring pupils, keeping their eyes open for incipient mumps, measles and chicken-pox, making out lists, escorting parties round the Victoria and Albert Museum, filling up forms, interviewing parents, and devising end-of-term reports which shall combine a deep veneration for truth with a tender respect for the feelings of all concerned.
Upon these really important duties I will not enlarge. I propose only to deal with the subject of teaching, properly so-called. I want to inquire whether, amid all the multitudinous subjects which figure in the syllabuses, we are really teaching the right things in the right way; and whether, by teaching fewer things, differently, we might not succeed in "shedding the load" (as the fashionable phrase goes) and, at the same time, producing a better result.
This prospect need arouse neither hope nor alarm. It is in the highest degree improbable that the reforms I propose will ever be carried into effect. Neither the parents, nor the training colleges, nor the examination boards, nor the boards of governors, nor the Ministry of Education would countenance them for a moment. For they amount to this: that if we are to produce a society of educated people, fitted to preserve their intellectual freedom amid the complex pressures of our modern society, we must turn back the wheel of progress some four or five hundred years, to the point at which education began to lose sight of its true object, towards the end of the Middle Ages.
Before you dismiss me with the appropriate phrase--reactionary, romantic, mediaevalist, laudator temporis acti, or whatever tag comes first to hand--I will ask you to consider one or two miscellaneous questions that hang about at the back, perhaps, of all our minds, and occasionally pop out to worry us.
When we think about the remarkably early age at which the young men went up to the University in, let us say, Tudor times, and thereafter were held fit to assume responsibility for the conduct of their own affairs, are we altogether comfortable about that artificial prolongation of intellectual childhood and adolescence into the years of physical maturity which is so marked in our own day? To postpone the acceptance of responsibility to a late date brings with it a number of psychological complications which, while they may interest the psychiatrist, are scarcely beneficial either to the individual or to society. The stock argument in favour of postponing the school leaving-age and prolonging the period of education generally is that there is now so much more to learn than there was in the Middle Ages. This is partly true, but not wholly. The modern boy and girl are certainly taught more subjects--but does that always mean that they are actually more learned and know more? That is the very point which we are going to consider.
Has it ever struck you as odd, or unfortunate, that to-day, when the proportion of literacy throughout Western Europe is higher than it has ever been, people should have become susceptible to the influence of advertisement and mass-propaganda to an extent hitherto unheard-of and unimagined? Do you put this down to the mere mechanical fact that the press and the radio and so on have made propaganda much easier to distribute over a wide area? Or do you sometimes have an uneasy suspicion that the product of modern educational methods is less good than he or she might be at disentangling fact from opinion and the proven from the plausible?
Have you ever, in listening to a debate among adult and presumably responsible people, been fretted by the extraordinary inability of the average debater to speak to the question, or to meet and refute the arguments of speakers on the other side? Or have you ever pondered upon the extremely high incidence of irrelevant matter which crops up at committee-meetings, and upon the very great rarity of persons capable of acting as chairmen of committees? And when you think of this, and think that most of our public affairs are settled by debates and committees, have you ever felt a certain sinking of the heart?
Have you ever followed a discussion in the newspapers or elsewhere and noticed how frequently writers fail to define the terms they use? Or how often, if one man does define his terms, another will assume in his reply that he was using the terms in precisely the opposite sense to that in which he has already defined them?
Have you ever been faintly troubled by the amount of slipshod syntax going about? And if so, are you troubled because it is inelegant or because it may lead to dangerous misunderstanding?
Do you ever find that young people, when they have left school, not only forget most of what they have learnt (that is only to be expected) but forget also, or betray that they have never really known, how to tackle a new subject for themselves? Are you often bothered by coming across grown-up men and women who seem unable to distinguish between a book that is sound, scholarly and properly documented, and one that is to any trained eye, very conspicuously none of these things? Or who cannot handle a library catalogue? Or who, when faced with a book of reference, betray a curious inability to extract from it the passages relevant to the particular question which interests them?
Do you often come across people for whom, all their lives, a "subject" remains a "subject," divided by water-tight bulkheads from all other "subjects," so that they experience very great difficulty in making an immediate mental connection between, let us say, algebra and detective fiction, sewage disposal and the price of salmon, cellulose and the distribution of rainfall--or, more generally, between such spheres of knowledge as philosophy and economics, or chemistry and art?
Are you occasionally perturbed by the things written by adult men and women for adult men and women to read? Here, for instance, is a quotation from an evening paper. It refers to the visit of an Indian girl to this country:--
Miss Bhosle has a perfect command of English ("Oh, gosh," she said once), and a marked enthusiasm for London.
Well, we may all talk nonsense in a moment of inattention. It is more alarming when we find a well-known biologist writing in a weekly paper to the effect that: "It is an argument against the existence of a Creator" (I think he put it more strongly; but since I have, most unfortunately, mislaid the reference, I will put his claim at its lowest)--"an argument against the existence of a Creator that the same kind of variations which are produced by natural selection can be produced at will by stock-breeders." One might feel tempted to say that it is rather an argument for the existence of a Creator. Actually, of course, it is neither: all it proves is that the same material causes (re-combination of the chromosomes by cross-breeding and so forth) are sufficient to account for all observed variations--just as the various combinations of the same 13 semitones are materially sufficient to account for Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata and the noise the cat makes by walking on the keys. But the cat's performance neither proves nor disproves the existence of Beethoven; and all that is proved by the biologist's argument is that he was unable to distinguish between a material and a final cause.
Here is a sentence from no less academic a source than a front-page article in the Times Literary Supplement:--
The Frenchman, Alfred Epinas, pointed out that certain species (e.g., ants and wasps) can only face the horrors of life and death in association.
I do not know what the Frenchman actually did say: what the Englishman says he said is patently meaningless. We cannot know whether life holds any horror for the ant, nor in what sense the isolated wasp which you kill upon the window-pane can be said to "face" or not to "face" the horrors of death. The subject of the article is mass-behaviour in man; and the human motives have been unobtrusively transferred from the main proposition to the supporting instance. Thus the argument, in effect, assumes what it sets out to prove--a fact which would become immediately apparent if it were presented in a formal syllogism. This is only a small and haphazard example of a vice which pervades whole books--particularly books written by men of science on metaphysical subjects.
Another quotation from the same issue of the T.L.S. comes in fittingly here to wind up this random collection of disquieting thoughts--this time from a review of Sir Richard Livingstone's Some Tasks for Education:--
More than once the reader is reminded of the value of an intensive study of at least one subject, so as to learn "the meaning of knowledge" and what precision and persistence is needed to attain it. Yet there is elsewhere full recognition of the distressing fact that a man may be master in one field and show no better judgment than his neighbour anywhere else; he remembers what he has learnt, but forgets altogether how he learned it.
I would draw your attention particularly to that last sentence, which offers an explanation of what the writer rightly calls the "distressing fact" that the intellectual skills bestowed upon us by our education are not readily transferable to subjects other than those in which we acquired them: "he remembers what he has learnt, but forgets altogether how he learned it."
Is not the great defect of our education to-day--a defect traceable through all the disquieting symptoms of trouble that I have mentioned--that although we often succeed in teaching our pupils "subjects," we fail lamentably on the whole in teaching them how to think? They learn everything, except the art of learning. It is as though we had taught a child, mechanically and by rule of thumb, to play The Harmonious Blacksmith upon the piano, but had never taught him the scale or how to read music; so that, having memorised The Harmonious Blacksmith, he still had not the faintest notion how to proceed from that to tackle The Last Rose of Summer. Why do I say, "As though"? In certain of the arts and crafts we sometimes do precisely this--requiring a child to "express himself" in paint before we teach him how to handle the colours and the brush. There is a school of thought which believes this to be the right way to set about the job. But observe--it is not the way in which a trained craftsman will go about to teach himself a new medium. He, having learned by experience the best way to economise labour and take the thing by the right end, will start off by doodling about on an odd piece of material, in order to "give himself the feel of the tool."
Let us now look at the mediaeval scheme of education--the syllabus of the Schools. It does not matter, for the moment, whether it was devised for small children or for older students; or how long people were supposed to take over it. What matters is the light it throws upon what the men of the Middle Ages supposed to be the object and the right order of the educative process.
The syllabus was divided into two parts; the Trivium and Quadrivium. The second part--the Quadrivium--consisted of "subjects," and need not for the moment concern us. The interesting thing for us is the composition of the Trivium, which preceded the Quadrivium and was the preliminary discipline for it. It consisted of three parts: Grammar, Dialectic, and Rhetoric, in that order.
Now the first thing we notice is that two at any rate of these "subjects" are not what we should call "subjects" at all: they are only methods of dealing with subjects. Grammar, indeed, is a "subject" in the sense that it does mean definitely learning a language--at that period it meant learning Latin. But language itself is simply the medium in which thought is expressed. The whole of the Trivium was, in fact, intended to teach the pupil the proper use of the tools of learning, before he began to apply them to "subjects" at all. First, he learned a language; not just how to order a meal in a foreign language, but the structure of language--a language, and hence of language itself--what it was, how it was put together and how it worked. Secondly, he learned how to use language: how to define his terms and make accurate statements; how to construct an argument and how to detect fallacies in argument (his own arguments and other people's). Dialectic, that is to say, embraced Logic and Disputation. Thirdly, he learned to express himself in language; how to say what he had to say elegantly and persuasively. At this point, any tendency to express himself windily or to use his eloquence so as to make the worse appear the better reason would, no doubt, be restrained by his previous teaching in Dialectic. If not, his teacher and his fellow-pupils, trained along the same lines, would be quick to point out where he was wrong; for it was they whom he had to seek to persuade. At the end of his course, he was required to compose a thesis upon some theme set by his masters or chosen by himself, and afterwards to defend his thesis against the criticism of the faculty. By this time he would have learned--or woe betide him--not merely to write an essay on paper, but to speak audibly and intelligibly from a platform, and to use his wits quickly when heckled. The heckling, moreover, would not consist solely of offensive personalities or of irrelevant queries about what Julius Caesar said in 55 B.C.--though no doubt mediaeval dialectic was enlivened in practice by plenty of such primitive repartee. But there would also be questions, cogent and shrewd, from those who had already run the gauntlet of debate, or were making ready to run it.
It is, of course, quite true that bits and pieces of the mediaeval tradition still linger, or have been revived, in the ordinary school syllabus of to-day. Some knowledge of grammar is still required when learning a foreign language--perhaps I should say, "is again required"; for during my own lifetime we passed through a phase when the teaching of declensions and conjugations was considered rather reprehensible, and it was considered better to pick these things up as we went along. School debating societies flourish; essays are written; the necessity for "self-expression" is stressed, and perhaps even over-stressed. But these activities are cultivated more or less in detachment, as belonging to the special subjects in which they are pigeon-holed rather than as forming one coherent scheme of mental training to which all "subjects" stand in a subordinate relation. "Grammar" belongs especially to the "subject" of foreign languages, and essay-writing to the "subject" called "English"; while Dialectic has become almost entirely divorced from the rest of the curriculum, and is frequently practised unsystematically and out of school-hours as a separate exercise, only very loosely related to the main business of learning. Taken by and large, the great difference of emphasis between the two conceptions holds good: modern education concentrates on teaching subjects, leaving the method of thinking, arguing and expressing one's conclusions to be picked up by the scholar as he goes along; mediaeval education concentrated on first forging and learning to handle the tools of learning, using whatever subject came handy as a piece of material on which to doodle until the use of the tool became second nature.
"Subjects" of some kind there must be, of course. One cannot learn the use of a tool by merely waving it in the air; neither can one learn the theory of grammar without learning an actual language, or learn to argue and orate without speaking about something in particular. The debating subjects of the Middle Ages were drawn largely from Theology, or from the Ethics and History of Antiquity. Often, indeed, they became stereotyped, especially towards the end of the period, and the far-fetched and wire-drawn absurdities of scholastic argument fretted Milton and provide food for merriment even to this day. Whether they were in themselves any more hackneyed and trivial than the usual subjects set nowadays for "essay-writing" I should not like to say: we may ourselves grow a little weary of "A Day in my Holidays," "What I should like to Do when I Leave School," and all the rest of it. But most of the merriment is misplaced, because the aim and object of the debating thesis has by now been lost sight of. A glib speaker in the Brains Trust once entertained his audience (and reduced the late Charles Williams to helpless rage) by asserting that in the Middle Ages it was a matter of faith to know how many archangels could dance on the point of a needle. I need not say, I hope, that it never was a "matter of faith"; it was simply a debating exercise, whose set subject was the nature of angelic substance: were angels material—
Rest here: https://www.fadedpage.com/books/20140...
That I, whose experience of teaching is extremely limited, and whose life of recent years has been almost wholly out of touch with educational circles, should presume to discuss education is a matter, surely, that calls for no apology. It is a kind of behaviour to which the present climate of opinion is wholly favourable. Bishops air their opinions about economics; biologists, about metaphysics; celibates, about matrimony; inorganic chemists about theology; the most irrelevant people are appointed to highly-technical ministries; and plain, blunt men write to the papers to say that Epstein and Picasso do not know how to draw. Up to a certain point, and provided that the criticisms are made with a reasonable modesty, these activities are commendable. Too much specialisation is not a good thing. There is also one excellent reason why the veriest amateur may feel entitled to have an opinion about education. For if we are not all professional teachers, we have all, at some time or other, been taught. Even if we learnt nothing--perhaps in particular if we learnt nothing--our contribution to the discussion may have a potential value.
Without apology, then, I will begin. But since much that I have to say is highly controversial, it will be pleasant to start with a proposition with which, I feel confident, all teachers will cordially agree; and that is, that they all work much too hard and have far too many things to do. One has only to look at any school or examination syllabus to see that it is cluttered up with a great variety of exhausting subjects which they are called upon to teach, and the teaching of which sadly interferes with what every thoughtful mind will allow to be their proper duties, such as distributing milk, supervising meals, taking cloak-room duty, weighing and measuring pupils, keeping their eyes open for incipient mumps, measles and chicken-pox, making out lists, escorting parties round the Victoria and Albert Museum, filling up forms, interviewing parents, and devising end-of-term reports which shall combine a deep veneration for truth with a tender respect for the feelings of all concerned.
Upon these really important duties I will not enlarge. I propose only to deal with the subject of teaching, properly so-called. I want to inquire whether, amid all the multitudinous subjects which figure in the syllabuses, we are really teaching the right things in the right way; and whether, by teaching fewer things, differently, we might not succeed in "shedding the load" (as the fashionable phrase goes) and, at the same time, producing a better result.
This prospect need arouse neither hope nor alarm. It is in the highest degree improbable that the reforms I propose will ever be carried into effect. Neither the parents, nor the training colleges, nor the examination boards, nor the boards of governors, nor the Ministry of Education would countenance them for a moment. For they amount to this: that if we are to produce a society of educated people, fitted to preserve their intellectual freedom amid the complex pressures of our modern society, we must turn back the wheel of progress some four or five hundred years, to the point at which education began to lose sight of its true object, towards the end of the Middle Ages.
Before you dismiss me with the appropriate phrase--reactionary, romantic, mediaevalist, laudator temporis acti, or whatever tag comes first to hand--I will ask you to consider one or two miscellaneous questions that hang about at the back, perhaps, of all our minds, and occasionally pop out to worry us.
When we think about the remarkably early age at which the young men went up to the University in, let us say, Tudor times, and thereafter were held fit to assume responsibility for the conduct of their own affairs, are we altogether comfortable about that artificial prolongation of intellectual childhood and adolescence into the years of physical maturity which is so marked in our own day? To postpone the acceptance of responsibility to a late date brings with it a number of psychological complications which, while they may interest the psychiatrist, are scarcely beneficial either to the individual or to society. The stock argument in favour of postponing the school leaving-age and prolonging the period of education generally is that there is now so much more to learn than there was in the Middle Ages. This is partly true, but not wholly. The modern boy and girl are certainly taught more subjects--but does that always mean that they are actually more learned and know more? That is the very point which we are going to consider.
Has it ever struck you as odd, or unfortunate, that to-day, when the proportion of literacy throughout Western Europe is higher than it has ever been, people should have become susceptible to the influence of advertisement and mass-propaganda to an extent hitherto unheard-of and unimagined? Do you put this down to the mere mechanical fact that the press and the radio and so on have made propaganda much easier to distribute over a wide area? Or do you sometimes have an uneasy suspicion that the product of modern educational methods is less good than he or she might be at disentangling fact from opinion and the proven from the plausible?
Have you ever, in listening to a debate among adult and presumably responsible people, been fretted by the extraordinary inability of the average debater to speak to the question, or to meet and refute the arguments of speakers on the other side? Or have you ever pondered upon the extremely high incidence of irrelevant matter which crops up at committee-meetings, and upon the very great rarity of persons capable of acting as chairmen of committees? And when you think of this, and think that most of our public affairs are settled by debates and committees, have you ever felt a certain sinking of the heart?
Have you ever followed a discussion in the newspapers or elsewhere and noticed how frequently writers fail to define the terms they use? Or how often, if one man does define his terms, another will assume in his reply that he was using the terms in precisely the opposite sense to that in which he has already defined them?
Have you ever been faintly troubled by the amount of slipshod syntax going about? And if so, are you troubled because it is inelegant or because it may lead to dangerous misunderstanding?
Do you ever find that young people, when they have left school, not only forget most of what they have learnt (that is only to be expected) but forget also, or betray that they have never really known, how to tackle a new subject for themselves? Are you often bothered by coming across grown-up men and women who seem unable to distinguish between a book that is sound, scholarly and properly documented, and one that is to any trained eye, very conspicuously none of these things? Or who cannot handle a library catalogue? Or who, when faced with a book of reference, betray a curious inability to extract from it the passages relevant to the particular question which interests them?
Do you often come across people for whom, all their lives, a "subject" remains a "subject," divided by water-tight bulkheads from all other "subjects," so that they experience very great difficulty in making an immediate mental connection between, let us say, algebra and detective fiction, sewage disposal and the price of salmon, cellulose and the distribution of rainfall--or, more generally, between such spheres of knowledge as philosophy and economics, or chemistry and art?
Are you occasionally perturbed by the things written by adult men and women for adult men and women to read? Here, for instance, is a quotation from an evening paper. It refers to the visit of an Indian girl to this country:--
Miss Bhosle has a perfect command of English ("Oh, gosh," she said once), and a marked enthusiasm for London.
Well, we may all talk nonsense in a moment of inattention. It is more alarming when we find a well-known biologist writing in a weekly paper to the effect that: "It is an argument against the existence of a Creator" (I think he put it more strongly; but since I have, most unfortunately, mislaid the reference, I will put his claim at its lowest)--"an argument against the existence of a Creator that the same kind of variations which are produced by natural selection can be produced at will by stock-breeders." One might feel tempted to say that it is rather an argument for the existence of a Creator. Actually, of course, it is neither: all it proves is that the same material causes (re-combination of the chromosomes by cross-breeding and so forth) are sufficient to account for all observed variations--just as the various combinations of the same 13 semitones are materially sufficient to account for Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata and the noise the cat makes by walking on the keys. But the cat's performance neither proves nor disproves the existence of Beethoven; and all that is proved by the biologist's argument is that he was unable to distinguish between a material and a final cause.
Here is a sentence from no less academic a source than a front-page article in the Times Literary Supplement:--
The Frenchman, Alfred Epinas, pointed out that certain species (e.g., ants and wasps) can only face the horrors of life and death in association.
I do not know what the Frenchman actually did say: what the Englishman says he said is patently meaningless. We cannot know whether life holds any horror for the ant, nor in what sense the isolated wasp which you kill upon the window-pane can be said to "face" or not to "face" the horrors of death. The subject of the article is mass-behaviour in man; and the human motives have been unobtrusively transferred from the main proposition to the supporting instance. Thus the argument, in effect, assumes what it sets out to prove--a fact which would become immediately apparent if it were presented in a formal syllogism. This is only a small and haphazard example of a vice which pervades whole books--particularly books written by men of science on metaphysical subjects.
Another quotation from the same issue of the T.L.S. comes in fittingly here to wind up this random collection of disquieting thoughts--this time from a review of Sir Richard Livingstone's Some Tasks for Education:--
More than once the reader is reminded of the value of an intensive study of at least one subject, so as to learn "the meaning of knowledge" and what precision and persistence is needed to attain it. Yet there is elsewhere full recognition of the distressing fact that a man may be master in one field and show no better judgment than his neighbour anywhere else; he remembers what he has learnt, but forgets altogether how he learned it.
I would draw your attention particularly to that last sentence, which offers an explanation of what the writer rightly calls the "distressing fact" that the intellectual skills bestowed upon us by our education are not readily transferable to subjects other than those in which we acquired them: "he remembers what he has learnt, but forgets altogether how he learned it."
Is not the great defect of our education to-day--a defect traceable through all the disquieting symptoms of trouble that I have mentioned--that although we often succeed in teaching our pupils "subjects," we fail lamentably on the whole in teaching them how to think? They learn everything, except the art of learning. It is as though we had taught a child, mechanically and by rule of thumb, to play The Harmonious Blacksmith upon the piano, but had never taught him the scale or how to read music; so that, having memorised The Harmonious Blacksmith, he still had not the faintest notion how to proceed from that to tackle The Last Rose of Summer. Why do I say, "As though"? In certain of the arts and crafts we sometimes do precisely this--requiring a child to "express himself" in paint before we teach him how to handle the colours and the brush. There is a school of thought which believes this to be the right way to set about the job. But observe--it is not the way in which a trained craftsman will go about to teach himself a new medium. He, having learned by experience the best way to economise labour and take the thing by the right end, will start off by doodling about on an odd piece of material, in order to "give himself the feel of the tool."
Let us now look at the mediaeval scheme of education--the syllabus of the Schools. It does not matter, for the moment, whether it was devised for small children or for older students; or how long people were supposed to take over it. What matters is the light it throws upon what the men of the Middle Ages supposed to be the object and the right order of the educative process.
The syllabus was divided into two parts; the Trivium and Quadrivium. The second part--the Quadrivium--consisted of "subjects," and need not for the moment concern us. The interesting thing for us is the composition of the Trivium, which preceded the Quadrivium and was the preliminary discipline for it. It consisted of three parts: Grammar, Dialectic, and Rhetoric, in that order.
Now the first thing we notice is that two at any rate of these "subjects" are not what we should call "subjects" at all: they are only methods of dealing with subjects. Grammar, indeed, is a "subject" in the sense that it does mean definitely learning a language--at that period it meant learning Latin. But language itself is simply the medium in which thought is expressed. The whole of the Trivium was, in fact, intended to teach the pupil the proper use of the tools of learning, before he began to apply them to "subjects" at all. First, he learned a language; not just how to order a meal in a foreign language, but the structure of language--a language, and hence of language itself--what it was, how it was put together and how it worked. Secondly, he learned how to use language: how to define his terms and make accurate statements; how to construct an argument and how to detect fallacies in argument (his own arguments and other people's). Dialectic, that is to say, embraced Logic and Disputation. Thirdly, he learned to express himself in language; how to say what he had to say elegantly and persuasively. At this point, any tendency to express himself windily or to use his eloquence so as to make the worse appear the better reason would, no doubt, be restrained by his previous teaching in Dialectic. If not, his teacher and his fellow-pupils, trained along the same lines, would be quick to point out where he was wrong; for it was they whom he had to seek to persuade. At the end of his course, he was required to compose a thesis upon some theme set by his masters or chosen by himself, and afterwards to defend his thesis against the criticism of the faculty. By this time he would have learned--or woe betide him--not merely to write an essay on paper, but to speak audibly and intelligibly from a platform, and to use his wits quickly when heckled. The heckling, moreover, would not consist solely of offensive personalities or of irrelevant queries about what Julius Caesar said in 55 B.C.--though no doubt mediaeval dialectic was enlivened in practice by plenty of such primitive repartee. But there would also be questions, cogent and shrewd, from those who had already run the gauntlet of debate, or were making ready to run it.
It is, of course, quite true that bits and pieces of the mediaeval tradition still linger, or have been revived, in the ordinary school syllabus of to-day. Some knowledge of grammar is still required when learning a foreign language--perhaps I should say, "is again required"; for during my own lifetime we passed through a phase when the teaching of declensions and conjugations was considered rather reprehensible, and it was considered better to pick these things up as we went along. School debating societies flourish; essays are written; the necessity for "self-expression" is stressed, and perhaps even over-stressed. But these activities are cultivated more or less in detachment, as belonging to the special subjects in which they are pigeon-holed rather than as forming one coherent scheme of mental training to which all "subjects" stand in a subordinate relation. "Grammar" belongs especially to the "subject" of foreign languages, and essay-writing to the "subject" called "English"; while Dialectic has become almost entirely divorced from the rest of the curriculum, and is frequently practised unsystematically and out of school-hours as a separate exercise, only very loosely related to the main business of learning. Taken by and large, the great difference of emphasis between the two conceptions holds good: modern education concentrates on teaching subjects, leaving the method of thinking, arguing and expressing one's conclusions to be picked up by the scholar as he goes along; mediaeval education concentrated on first forging and learning to handle the tools of learning, using whatever subject came handy as a piece of material on which to doodle until the use of the tool became second nature.
"Subjects" of some kind there must be, of course. One cannot learn the use of a tool by merely waving it in the air; neither can one learn the theory of grammar without learning an actual language, or learn to argue and orate without speaking about something in particular. The debating subjects of the Middle Ages were drawn largely from Theology, or from the Ethics and History of Antiquity. Often, indeed, they became stereotyped, especially towards the end of the period, and the far-fetched and wire-drawn absurdities of scholastic argument fretted Milton and provide food for merriment even to this day. Whether they were in themselves any more hackneyed and trivial than the usual subjects set nowadays for "essay-writing" I should not like to say: we may ourselves grow a little weary of "A Day in my Holidays," "What I should like to Do when I Leave School," and all the rest of it. But most of the merriment is misplaced, because the aim and object of the debating thesis has by now been lost sight of. A glib speaker in the Brains Trust once entertained his audience (and reduced the late Charles Williams to helpless rage) by asserting that in the Middle Ages it was a matter of faith to know how many archangels could dance on the point of a needle. I need not say, I hope, that it never was a "matter of faith"; it was simply a debating exercise, whose set subject was the nature of angelic substance: were angels material—
Rest here: https://www.fadedpage.com/books/20140...
February 13, 2015
The first steps toward understanding what you know.
January 3, 2014
The Liberal Arts of Logic, Grammar, and Rhetoric by Sister Miriam Joseph
I would describe the Trivium as the art of learning because it teaches you to understand the nature and function of language so that you can organize your observations and thoughts in a matter that enables you to accurately express them to yourself and to others. The Trivium are the first three of the seven liberal arts and sciences and the Quadrivium are the remaining four. The three subjects which make up the Trivium are part of what’s called a "classical" education today, which is something that very few of us get in our public schooling. Up until about a hundred years ago, the Trivium and Quadrivium were the basis and premier study in a general education.
General grammar, formal or Aristotelian logic, and classical rhetoric. Many ancient texts refer to these as knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. General grammar is the systematic method of gathering raw data of a similar nature into a body of knowledge. When that gathering is complete we call it a subject or a study. Formal logic is the system of bringing full and intimate understanding to that body of knowledge by systematically eliminating all stated contradictions within it. So at this point we have coherent meaningful knowledge of the set of data, due to the applications of the rules of grammar, and we have an understanding brought about by making that knowledge consistent by applying the rules of logic. To communicate this comprehensive knowledge and understanding to ourselves and to others or to utilize the insights in the real world in the form of instructions or protocols we apply another set of rules; the rules of rhetoric which display wisdom.
So one very important advantage is that we can learn on our own, virtually any subject, with almost no guidance from a teacher or facilitator. The Trivium reflects the structure of almost all fields of study. It reflects the structure of the way that we think. Once this method is learned it becomes second nature to us. It’s like learning to read, at first we have difficulty learning the alphabet and then we have to learn how to put it together, then we see it put together in the form of words. At first it’s very hard for us to get the method of putting it all together but then one day, almost without realizing it, we understand what those words are saying on a page. It’s from developing that skill of reading: from the memorization of the ABC’s, to putting it together. If we’re lucky we have the key to language, which is phonics, and if we’re taught phonics we’re all that much better off. In the same way, the Trivium teaches us how to think.
My favourite component is logic (and argumentation) to identify diversionary tactics and logical fallacies. An argument that deals with the point at issue is argumentum ad rem (literally an “argument to the thing”). Arguments that evade the issue with diversionary tactics are given special names to signify on which irrelevant grounds they are based: argumentum ad hominem, argumentum ad populum, argumentum ad misericordiam, argumentum ad baculum, argumentum ad ignorantiam, and argumentum ad verecundiam.
Plato and Aristotle condemned the sophists: Gorgias, Protagoras, and others for their superficiality and disregard of truth in teaching to make the worse appear the better cause. One sophist argument that was appealing to me was that they considered the loser of a debate to be the winner in the sense that the winning a debate only proves your opponent was wrong and you gain nothing but losing a debate causes you to gain truth (you discovered you were wrong and now you learned something you didn’t know before) so in that sense you won something.
Here’s an excellent excerpt from the book that demonstrates logic:
“Fallacies of the Dilemma: A famous ancient example is the argument between Protagoras and Euathlus, his law pupil. According to the contract between them, Euathlus was to pay half his tuition fee when he completed his studies and the other half when he had won his first case in court. Seeing that his pupil deliberately delayed beginning the practice of law, Protagoras sued him for the balance of the fee. Euathlus had to plead his own case. Protagoras' argument was that if Euathlus loses this case, he must pay me by the judgement of the court; if he wins it, he must pay me in accordance with the terms of the contract. He must either win or lose it therefore he must pay me in any case.” Euathlus rebuts the dilemma by stating that if he wins the case, he need not pay by the judgement of the court; if he loses it, he need not pay in accordance with the terms of the contract. He must either win or lose it therefore he need not pay in any case. It looks like lawyers were assholes back then too.
I would describe the Trivium as the art of learning because it teaches you to understand the nature and function of language so that you can organize your observations and thoughts in a matter that enables you to accurately express them to yourself and to others. The Trivium are the first three of the seven liberal arts and sciences and the Quadrivium are the remaining four. The three subjects which make up the Trivium are part of what’s called a "classical" education today, which is something that very few of us get in our public schooling. Up until about a hundred years ago, the Trivium and Quadrivium were the basis and premier study in a general education.
General grammar, formal or Aristotelian logic, and classical rhetoric. Many ancient texts refer to these as knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. General grammar is the systematic method of gathering raw data of a similar nature into a body of knowledge. When that gathering is complete we call it a subject or a study. Formal logic is the system of bringing full and intimate understanding to that body of knowledge by systematically eliminating all stated contradictions within it. So at this point we have coherent meaningful knowledge of the set of data, due to the applications of the rules of grammar, and we have an understanding brought about by making that knowledge consistent by applying the rules of logic. To communicate this comprehensive knowledge and understanding to ourselves and to others or to utilize the insights in the real world in the form of instructions or protocols we apply another set of rules; the rules of rhetoric which display wisdom.
So one very important advantage is that we can learn on our own, virtually any subject, with almost no guidance from a teacher or facilitator. The Trivium reflects the structure of almost all fields of study. It reflects the structure of the way that we think. Once this method is learned it becomes second nature to us. It’s like learning to read, at first we have difficulty learning the alphabet and then we have to learn how to put it together, then we see it put together in the form of words. At first it’s very hard for us to get the method of putting it all together but then one day, almost without realizing it, we understand what those words are saying on a page. It’s from developing that skill of reading: from the memorization of the ABC’s, to putting it together. If we’re lucky we have the key to language, which is phonics, and if we’re taught phonics we’re all that much better off. In the same way, the Trivium teaches us how to think.
My favourite component is logic (and argumentation) to identify diversionary tactics and logical fallacies. An argument that deals with the point at issue is argumentum ad rem (literally an “argument to the thing”). Arguments that evade the issue with diversionary tactics are given special names to signify on which irrelevant grounds they are based: argumentum ad hominem, argumentum ad populum, argumentum ad misericordiam, argumentum ad baculum, argumentum ad ignorantiam, and argumentum ad verecundiam.
Plato and Aristotle condemned the sophists: Gorgias, Protagoras, and others for their superficiality and disregard of truth in teaching to make the worse appear the better cause. One sophist argument that was appealing to me was that they considered the loser of a debate to be the winner in the sense that the winning a debate only proves your opponent was wrong and you gain nothing but losing a debate causes you to gain truth (you discovered you were wrong and now you learned something you didn’t know before) so in that sense you won something.
Here’s an excellent excerpt from the book that demonstrates logic:
“Fallacies of the Dilemma: A famous ancient example is the argument between Protagoras and Euathlus, his law pupil. According to the contract between them, Euathlus was to pay half his tuition fee when he completed his studies and the other half when he had won his first case in court. Seeing that his pupil deliberately delayed beginning the practice of law, Protagoras sued him for the balance of the fee. Euathlus had to plead his own case. Protagoras' argument was that if Euathlus loses this case, he must pay me by the judgement of the court; if he wins it, he must pay me in accordance with the terms of the contract. He must either win or lose it therefore he must pay me in any case.” Euathlus rebuts the dilemma by stating that if he wins the case, he need not pay by the judgement of the court; if he loses it, he need not pay in accordance with the terms of the contract. He must either win or lose it therefore he need not pay in any case. It looks like lawyers were assholes back then too.
August 24, 2022
As Artes Liberais e o Trivium me atraíram quase que por magnetismo; uma vontade ou interesse que sempre tive na educação da idade média talvez fosse finalmente suprida quando dei de cara com esses livros, que além de expor se dispunham também a ensinar as tais artes.
De fato, o livro me ensinou algumas coisas, mas me fez lembrar de uma outra: não colocar altas expectativas por causa de sumários ou títulos. A gramática — inicialmente interessante — torna-se cansativa e ocupa mais da metade do livro, ofuscando tanto a lógica quanto a retórica.
Me foi extremamente parecido com o Como Ler Livros do Adler (outro que bebe das artes liberais): o prefácio e o desenvolvimento inicial são extremamente interessantes, mas há logo um declínio, e você nas tantas percebe que o livro não é aquilo que ele mesmo sugeriu ou se propôs inicialmente a fazer/ensinar.
No final eles de alguma forma retomam seu interesse inicial: no caso do Adler ele faz issso com a sua visão extremamente interessante sobre clássicos; e no Trivium, a Irmã Mirian o faz nos capítulos que falam de literatura, poesia e de seu mar de referências a autores e obras de ambas as áreas.
"Portanto, a poética está numa posição única entre a história e a filosofia. É mais filosófica e de maior importância que a história porque é universal e não singular; representa o que poderia ser e não apenas o que foi. Através dela o ouvinte ou leitor deduz o significado da natureza íntima de uma coisa tal como esta foi percebida pelo artista. É mais comovente do que a filosofia, pois é percebida e concretizada intensamente no indivíduo retratado e o apelo é à pessoa toda: à imaginação, aos sentimentos e ao intelecto. E não à apenas um deles."
Tirando os capítulos finais, o livro é pouquíssimo inspirado; não fascina, dificulta muitas coisas simples, não dá contexto histórico ou um exemplo da aplicação moderna. O esforço de lê-lo, na minha concepção, não é nem um pouco recompensador, resulta apenas em petiscos de informações; quase um esforço pelo esforço.
Minha fome pelas Artes Liberais, no entanto, só aumentou, e sei que há mais dois ou três Trivium's por aí. E espero de verdade que tenham um sabor diferente do da Irmã Miriam: que é extremamente insosso.
De fato, o livro me ensinou algumas coisas, mas me fez lembrar de uma outra: não colocar altas expectativas por causa de sumários ou títulos. A gramática — inicialmente interessante — torna-se cansativa e ocupa mais da metade do livro, ofuscando tanto a lógica quanto a retórica.
Me foi extremamente parecido com o Como Ler Livros do Adler (outro que bebe das artes liberais): o prefácio e o desenvolvimento inicial são extremamente interessantes, mas há logo um declínio, e você nas tantas percebe que o livro não é aquilo que ele mesmo sugeriu ou se propôs inicialmente a fazer/ensinar.
No final eles de alguma forma retomam seu interesse inicial: no caso do Adler ele faz issso com a sua visão extremamente interessante sobre clássicos; e no Trivium, a Irmã Mirian o faz nos capítulos que falam de literatura, poesia e de seu mar de referências a autores e obras de ambas as áreas.
"Portanto, a poética está numa posição única entre a história e a filosofia. É mais filosófica e de maior importância que a história porque é universal e não singular; representa o que poderia ser e não apenas o que foi. Através dela o ouvinte ou leitor deduz o significado da natureza íntima de uma coisa tal como esta foi percebida pelo artista. É mais comovente do que a filosofia, pois é percebida e concretizada intensamente no indivíduo retratado e o apelo é à pessoa toda: à imaginação, aos sentimentos e ao intelecto. E não à apenas um deles."
Tirando os capítulos finais, o livro é pouquíssimo inspirado; não fascina, dificulta muitas coisas simples, não dá contexto histórico ou um exemplo da aplicação moderna. O esforço de lê-lo, na minha concepção, não é nem um pouco recompensador, resulta apenas em petiscos de informações; quase um esforço pelo esforço.
Minha fome pelas Artes Liberais, no entanto, só aumentou, e sei que há mais dois ou três Trivium's por aí. E espero de verdade que tenham um sabor diferente do da Irmã Miriam: que é extremamente insosso.
September 4, 2009
OK, this book may not be an 'easy read' and may not be everyone's cup of tea. Not a beach book.
Having noted the above, I want to add that anyone who is interested in logic, grammar, and how the two connect will find this book illuminating. Sister Miriam was a wonderful teacher, and this book is still sometimes used in college undergraduate classes to explain how Aristotelian logic works and how logic relates to rhetoric, grammar, argument.
She's remarkably clear. Her language is straightforward; she explains the terms sensibly. I studied philosophy as an undergrad and loved the discipline, but I wish I'd read this text then. It would have helped me to put into better words the things I was thinking.
As a word person, and as a teacher, I found this book satisfying. But is IS a text! It's not "logic made fun and readable for the average everyday person."
If you WANT "logic made fun and readable for the average everyday person," then check out The Big Questions: How Philosophy Can Change Your Life by Lou Marinoff.
Having noted the above, I want to add that anyone who is interested in logic, grammar, and how the two connect will find this book illuminating. Sister Miriam was a wonderful teacher, and this book is still sometimes used in college undergraduate classes to explain how Aristotelian logic works and how logic relates to rhetoric, grammar, argument.
She's remarkably clear. Her language is straightforward; she explains the terms sensibly. I studied philosophy as an undergrad and loved the discipline, but I wish I'd read this text then. It would have helped me to put into better words the things I was thinking.
As a word person, and as a teacher, I found this book satisfying. But is IS a text! It's not "logic made fun and readable for the average everyday person."
If you WANT "logic made fun and readable for the average everyday person," then check out The Big Questions: How Philosophy Can Change Your Life by Lou Marinoff.
January 29, 2011
This book more than any other reset my course and gave me the foundation I have long sought in order to learn everything else. It is less about her subjects, grammar, logic and rhetoric than a course in critical thinking. I am a lifelong fan of logic and reason and I had a pretty good grasp of that. But Sister Miriam's teaching enlightened me. I can now use it with more precision and express and persuade others more easily due to that precision. God Bless Sister Miriam.
April 5, 2019
A classic. Young catholics should certainly read this in order to think better and express themselves well. I read it in another book that today people who receive university degrees do not know how to express themselves, in the middle ages those who would study were very precise with their words and were very logical and rational in expressing something, that is what this book tries to accomplish.
August 23, 2017
Que diferença teria na minha vida se tivesse tido uma educação clássica!Me aventurei nesta leitura com a intenção de melhorar minha capacidade de leitura e aprendizado, mas fui surpreendido! Não sabia que a educação clássica é, na verdade, um programa pautado nas ideias de Aristóteles! Além dos riquíssimos exemplos que o livro passa (Milton, Shakespeare, Dante, Aristóteles etc), das explicações sobre lógica, gramática e retórica (de uma perspectiva diferente da que eu tive na escola); a obra também serve de introdução à Filosofia! Essencial e espetacular. (Não espere uma leitura fácil)
May 20, 2015
Worth reading for all the infromation about writing and word usage.
May 12, 2020
This book may be interesting to those who have never taken courses on logic and rethoric. Both subjects represent a large body of knowledge and are given in the book in a proper order and detail.
The book starts from the very basic questions such as: what is "matter" and what is "form"; how the human mind learns about the world; how the knowledge gets conceptualized, put into words, and used to create new knowledge.
The topics which follow those basics are related to the practicle apects of communucation. The various forms of arguments are introduced in the book along with the rules which can help keeping them away from fallacies.
The final chapter of the book offers to learn about the foms of composition including the poetry. In particular, this part explains how to read and enjoy the unrhymed poetry such as that called "blank verse" preferred by Shakespeare.
The book starts from the very basic questions such as: what is "matter" and what is "form"; how the human mind learns about the world; how the knowledge gets conceptualized, put into words, and used to create new knowledge.
The topics which follow those basics are related to the practicle apects of communucation. The various forms of arguments are introduced in the book along with the rules which can help keeping them away from fallacies.
The final chapter of the book offers to learn about the foms of composition including the poetry. In particular, this part explains how to read and enjoy the unrhymed poetry such as that called "blank verse" preferred by Shakespeare.
March 7, 2021
I have read this two or three times. It covers the three liberal arts for communication involved in mind and politics of Grammar, Logic, and Rhetoric. The other four liberal arts of number, space, time, and space and time otherwise known as Arithmetic, Geometry, Music, Astronomy were considered the arts that should be known to the educated member of the Polis or Republic in ancient times if the seven liberal arts. The three liberal arts were considered crucial for deliberation and communication in political life. I mean it is 2000 years old so it definitely qualifies as old school but many things remain constant in people and it not bad to see arts from other times and the way people went about things then. The past is a foreign country and visiting it is an education.
May 31, 2019
This book was not at all what I was expecting it to be! I bought it in order to better understand the history and philosophy of teaching the trivium, especially as it related to primary and secondary education; however, the subtitle of the book was a greater indication of its true subject matter: "Understanding the Nature and Function of Language."
Indeed, "The Trivium" functions as a primer of sorts on grammar, logic, and rhetoric. While it can definitely serve as an introduction to these concepts, it is by no means a casual read, as it is full of terminology and principles with which to become acquainted.
As my kids grow older, especially when we teach them formal logic and rhetoric, I'm sure I'll find myself turning back to this book. It is a wealth of information!
Indeed, "The Trivium" functions as a primer of sorts on grammar, logic, and rhetoric. While it can definitely serve as an introduction to these concepts, it is by no means a casual read, as it is full of terminology and principles with which to become acquainted.
As my kids grow older, especially when we teach them formal logic and rhetoric, I'm sure I'll find myself turning back to this book. It is a wealth of information!
February 21, 2020
BreakawayIndividual.com
Zy Marquiez
February 11, 2020
In How To Read A Book – The Classical Guide To Intelligent Reading, Mortimer J. Adler & Charles Van Doren postulated that most published books out there will not be complex enough to teach the reader anything of true substance.[1]
That is unfortunate, because given the decline in education, substance is exactly what our culture needs, especially given how culture as a whole is also declining as well, as Professor Patrick Deneen penned in a paper years ago.
Transitioning to the opposite side of the spectrum of education, let us now take a look at a highly underrated book that would go a long way to aid in an individual’s self-directed learning.
There is no better place to start with respect to education, then gravitating towards the Trivium, which was part of classical education, though that is no longer the case. In The Trivium – The Liberal Arts Of Logic, Grammar & Rhetoric by Sister Miriam Joseph Ph.D. does an exemplary job teaching classical components of education which do not get the light of day in modern times.
As this passage by Marguerite McGlinn relates, which speaks incisively:
“Ultimately, Sister Miriam Joseph speaks most eloquently about the value of this book. She explains that studying the liberal arts [The Trivium] is an intransitive activity; the effect of studying these arts stays within the individual and perfects the faculties of the mind and spirit. She compares the studying of the liberal arts with the blooming of the rose; it brings to fruition the possibilities of human nature. She writes, “The utilitarian or servile arts enable one to be a servant – of another person, of the state, of a corporation, or a business – and to earn a living. The liberal arts, in contrast, teach one how to live; they train the faculties and bring them to perfection; they enable a person to rise above his material environment to live an intellectual, a rational, and therefore a free life in gaining truth.”[2][Bold & Underline Emphasis Added]
The book doesn’t just speak of The Trivium, but shows how to employ the core concepts rather saliently.
By covering the vital topics of Logic, Grammar & Rhetoric, The Trivium goes far above and beyond most books that are ‘mandatory’ in the public school system.
Given that the once mandatory subjects of rhetoric and logic are all but gone from mainstream schooling and only a shadow of those remain, while what is taught of grammar is very superficial, a book like this blows away anything that regular schooling could offer.
Why such a bold statement? Because the Trivium is the foundation upon which classical education was built. However, after a shift away from classical education, the Trivium was removed from the system of public schooling to the detriment of the students and America as a whole.
The Trivium features not only a very methodical approach into the learning and teaching of Grammar, Logic and Rhetoric, but the book is also chock-full of numerous examples coming straight from the upper tiers of literary history which are used to buttress lessons from the book.
Additionally, not only does this book explain in detail the core concepts of the Trivium, but at key junctures it also offers some exercises in order to apply what one has learned to gauge an individual’s progress.
The Trivium is a really thorough presentation of classical education in a user-friendly manner. It encompasses everything from poetics, fallacies, syllogisms, propositions, grammar, composition, enthymemes and much more.
If you’re a homeschooler, an unschooler, an autodidact, a self-directed learner, or simply someone that is seeking to teach themselves about these crucial parts of education, then ruminate deeply about getting this book. Its lessons would benefit every individual come to terms with the greater capability that they always could have had, but never found a way to achieve due to the terribly lacking public schooling system.
____________________________________
Sources & References:
[1] Mortimer J. Adler & Charles Van Doren, How To Read A Book, Mortimer J. Adler & Charles Van Doren.
[2] Sister Miriam Joseph Ph.D.,The Trivium – The Liberal Arts Of Logic, Grammar & Rhetoric, pp. x-xi.
____________________________________
Socratic Logic V3.1 by Peter Kreeft Ph.D.
How To Read A Book by Mortimer J. Adler & Charles Van Doren
Philosophy 101b by Peter Kreeft Ph.D.
A Workbook For Arguments – A Complete Course In Critical Thinking by David Morrow
The Imaginative Argument – A Practical Manifesto For Writers By Frank L. Cioffi
Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto
Rotten To The Common Core by Dr. Joseph P. Farrell & Gary Lawrence
A Different Kind Of Teacher by John Taylor Gatto
Weapons Of Mass Instruction by John Taylor Gatto
Drilling Through The Core by Sandra Stotski & Contributors
Tavistock Institute: Social Engineering The Masses by Daniel Estulin
A Mind Of Your Own – The Truth About Depression & How Women Can Heal Their Bodies To Reclaim Their Lives by Dr. Kelly Brogan
Zy Marquiez
February 11, 2020
In How To Read A Book – The Classical Guide To Intelligent Reading, Mortimer J. Adler & Charles Van Doren postulated that most published books out there will not be complex enough to teach the reader anything of true substance.[1]
That is unfortunate, because given the decline in education, substance is exactly what our culture needs, especially given how culture as a whole is also declining as well, as Professor Patrick Deneen penned in a paper years ago.
Transitioning to the opposite side of the spectrum of education, let us now take a look at a highly underrated book that would go a long way to aid in an individual’s self-directed learning.
There is no better place to start with respect to education, then gravitating towards the Trivium, which was part of classical education, though that is no longer the case. In The Trivium – The Liberal Arts Of Logic, Grammar & Rhetoric by Sister Miriam Joseph Ph.D. does an exemplary job teaching classical components of education which do not get the light of day in modern times.
As this passage by Marguerite McGlinn relates, which speaks incisively:
“Ultimately, Sister Miriam Joseph speaks most eloquently about the value of this book. She explains that studying the liberal arts [The Trivium] is an intransitive activity; the effect of studying these arts stays within the individual and perfects the faculties of the mind and spirit. She compares the studying of the liberal arts with the blooming of the rose; it brings to fruition the possibilities of human nature. She writes, “The utilitarian or servile arts enable one to be a servant – of another person, of the state, of a corporation, or a business – and to earn a living. The liberal arts, in contrast, teach one how to live; they train the faculties and bring them to perfection; they enable a person to rise above his material environment to live an intellectual, a rational, and therefore a free life in gaining truth.”[2][Bold & Underline Emphasis Added]
The book doesn’t just speak of The Trivium, but shows how to employ the core concepts rather saliently.
By covering the vital topics of Logic, Grammar & Rhetoric, The Trivium goes far above and beyond most books that are ‘mandatory’ in the public school system.
Given that the once mandatory subjects of rhetoric and logic are all but gone from mainstream schooling and only a shadow of those remain, while what is taught of grammar is very superficial, a book like this blows away anything that regular schooling could offer.
Why such a bold statement? Because the Trivium is the foundation upon which classical education was built. However, after a shift away from classical education, the Trivium was removed from the system of public schooling to the detriment of the students and America as a whole.
The Trivium features not only a very methodical approach into the learning and teaching of Grammar, Logic and Rhetoric, but the book is also chock-full of numerous examples coming straight from the upper tiers of literary history which are used to buttress lessons from the book.
Additionally, not only does this book explain in detail the core concepts of the Trivium, but at key junctures it also offers some exercises in order to apply what one has learned to gauge an individual’s progress.
The Trivium is a really thorough presentation of classical education in a user-friendly manner. It encompasses everything from poetics, fallacies, syllogisms, propositions, grammar, composition, enthymemes and much more.
If you’re a homeschooler, an unschooler, an autodidact, a self-directed learner, or simply someone that is seeking to teach themselves about these crucial parts of education, then ruminate deeply about getting this book. Its lessons would benefit every individual come to terms with the greater capability that they always could have had, but never found a way to achieve due to the terribly lacking public schooling system.
____________________________________
Sources & References:
[1] Mortimer J. Adler & Charles Van Doren, How To Read A Book, Mortimer J. Adler & Charles Van Doren.
[2] Sister Miriam Joseph Ph.D.,The Trivium – The Liberal Arts Of Logic, Grammar & Rhetoric, pp. x-xi.
____________________________________
Socratic Logic V3.1 by Peter Kreeft Ph.D.
How To Read A Book by Mortimer J. Adler & Charles Van Doren
Philosophy 101b by Peter Kreeft Ph.D.
A Workbook For Arguments – A Complete Course In Critical Thinking by David Morrow
The Imaginative Argument – A Practical Manifesto For Writers By Frank L. Cioffi
Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto
Rotten To The Common Core by Dr. Joseph P. Farrell & Gary Lawrence
A Different Kind Of Teacher by John Taylor Gatto
Weapons Of Mass Instruction by John Taylor Gatto
Drilling Through The Core by Sandra Stotski & Contributors
Tavistock Institute: Social Engineering The Masses by Daniel Estulin
A Mind Of Your Own – The Truth About Depression & How Women Can Heal Their Bodies To Reclaim Their Lives by Dr. Kelly Brogan
May 22, 2019
Joseph's putative goal is to organize and explain norms within the three arts of the trivium: logic, grammar, and rhetoric. But because she oversimplifies, she's more likely to mislead than educate.
Her definitions use philosophical terms of art in a way that confuses without adding meaning. For example, she writes, "A word, like every other physical reality, is constituted of matter and form. Its matter is the sensible sign; its form is the meaning imposed upon it by convention." Here, she crams words (which don't fit in the class of "physical reality" easily) into the frame of hylomorphism. Yet, after reading her explanation, it seems her only apparent reason for doing so is circular (i.e., so that she could find a place for words within matter and form, which, according to her scholastic view, comprise reality).
And the tone is dogmatic. For instance: "Voice is the sound uttered by an animal. The voice of irrational animals has meaning from nature, from the tone of the utterance. The human voice alone is symbolic."
Her definitions use philosophical terms of art in a way that confuses without adding meaning. For example, she writes, "A word, like every other physical reality, is constituted of matter and form. Its matter is the sensible sign; its form is the meaning imposed upon it by convention." Here, she crams words (which don't fit in the class of "physical reality" easily) into the frame of hylomorphism. Yet, after reading her explanation, it seems her only apparent reason for doing so is circular (i.e., so that she could find a place for words within matter and form, which, according to her scholastic view, comprise reality).
And the tone is dogmatic. For instance: "Voice is the sound uttered by an animal. The voice of irrational animals has meaning from nature, from the tone of the utterance. The human voice alone is symbolic."
November 27, 2020
3 stars for my enjoyment reading this book.
4.5 stars for the information.
This would be an excellent book to use as a refresher or a reference. It goes a little too fast, and is too dense to be a first look at the trivium. I did learn a lot from it, but I feel like I missed a lot, too. I was fascinated by the grammar section, and felt the rhetoric section (the last few chapters) was a great compilation of things to remember, but extensive section on logic nearly did me in. I have had no significant training in logic, and I read through that section with my mind numbed and my eyes glazed over. After reading one chapter in the section on logic I put the book down for more than a month. In the end, I think I picked up a little logic here and there. I think it would be a great reference tool once I become more knowledgeable about classical logic. Overall, having a background in grammar, logic, and rhetoric (including poetry) will make this a more enjoyable read and valuable as a reference. I found that to be true for grammar and rhetoric.
4.5 stars for the information.
This would be an excellent book to use as a refresher or a reference. It goes a little too fast, and is too dense to be a first look at the trivium. I did learn a lot from it, but I feel like I missed a lot, too. I was fascinated by the grammar section, and felt the rhetoric section (the last few chapters) was a great compilation of things to remember, but extensive section on logic nearly did me in. I have had no significant training in logic, and I read through that section with my mind numbed and my eyes glazed over. After reading one chapter in the section on logic I put the book down for more than a month. In the end, I think I picked up a little logic here and there. I think it would be a great reference tool once I become more knowledgeable about classical logic. Overall, having a background in grammar, logic, and rhetoric (including poetry) will make this a more enjoyable read and valuable as a reference. I found that to be true for grammar and rhetoric.
January 3, 2017
Wow!
This is a book that should be read very slow by any student of poetry and anyone who wants to be well versed with the language that is English. Especially more if you have plans to be a writer.
It is almost impossible to write about logic, rhetoric and grammar and not quote from the classical age. Those guys were worth their salt. True to say that life can only be understood backwards but lived forward.
I have had to read this slow (about a month) and I will definitely come back to it for purposes of reference.
My purpose when reading was that so that the book would not come to and end but sadly it came to an end. I do not rate books this highly, unless they touch a nerve somewhere...and this book did.
A recommended slow read!
This is a book that should be read very slow by any student of poetry and anyone who wants to be well versed with the language that is English. Especially more if you have plans to be a writer.
It is almost impossible to write about logic, rhetoric and grammar and not quote from the classical age. Those guys were worth their salt. True to say that life can only be understood backwards but lived forward.
I have had to read this slow (about a month) and I will definitely come back to it for purposes of reference.
My purpose when reading was that so that the book would not come to and end but sadly it came to an end. I do not rate books this highly, unless they touch a nerve somewhere...and this book did.
A recommended slow read!
December 31, 2022
Fantástica elaboração de conteúdo didático a respeito do Trivium: (Lógica, Gramática e Retórica). A autora, Miriam Joseph, faz argumentações a respeito de todos os conhecimentos da lógica, da gramática e da retórica, dando exemplos práticos e fornecendo observações detalhadas sobre cada assunto.
July 4, 2014
I rated this 4 stars for the intensity and depth of learning that can occur with this book. It reads more like a textbook. I'm glad I persevered and finished to the end. Difficult but worth it.
December 22, 2021
It's no fun , reading this book,and most importantly understanding it's content.
July 9, 2021
Definition of Trivium/Components - As way to increase my familiarity with the Trivium and to help better understand its component parts or branches, I thought it would be useful to look at this book by Sister Miriam Joseph.
My first exposure to the Trivium came through my reading of Marshall McLuhan’s works (see my review of Gordon’s "McLuhan: A Guide for the Perplexed (Guides for the Perplexed) )." The work by Eric McLuhan (see my review of "The Sensus Communis, Synesthesia, and the Soul: An Odyssey") and McLuhan colleagues such as Walter Ong (see my review of his "Language as Hermeneutic: A Primer on the Word and Digitization") have also dealt with this classic framework for learning. In more recent years, others have built on the Trivium as a means of better understanding and working with “new media” (e.g. see my review of Brooke's "Lingua Fracta: Toward a Rhetoric of New Media (New Dimensions in Computers and Composition)").
Anyway, Sister’s book consists of eleven chapters that begin with explanations of (1) The Liberal Arts, and (2) The Nature and Function of Language. Proceeding from there, the text gets into more specifics about (3) General Grammar, (4) Definition and Division, (5) Propositions and Their Grammatical Expression, and (6) Relations of Simple Propositions. It continues with more detail about (7) The Simple Syllogism, (8) Relations of Hypothetical and Disjunctive Propositions, (9) Fallacies, and (10) A Brief Summary of Induction. The book concludes with an extensive chapter (11) on Composition and Reading. There are also extensive Notes, a background on Sister Miriam Joseph 1899-1982 and a useful Index.
My favorite parts and those most useful to me are Chapters 1 and 2 for their orientation to the Trivium and Chapter 10 regarding scientific induction. Chapter 11 is also of interest for its application of the Trivium to writing and literature. As we learn in the able Editor’s Introduction that “Aristotle’s theories of language and literature underlie this work” and that “. . . the Medieval and Renaissance trivium of grammar, logic and rhetoric . . . [offer] an integrated approach to unlocking the power of the mind . . . “ Sister comes across with such descriptions as “Logic is the art of thinking; grammar the art of inventing symbols [words] and combining them to express thought; and rhetoric the art of communicating thought from one mind to another, the adaptation of language to circumstance.” She also goes into depth on logic and its variations, such as “Induction is the legitimate derivation of general propositions from individual instances . . . Scientific induction as a means of discovering truth embraces five steps: observation, analogy, hypothesis, analysis and sifting of data, and verification of the hypothesis” (see my reviews of Priest’s "Logic: A Very Short Introduction (Very Short Introductions)" and Bauer’s "The Story of Western Science: From the Writings of Aristotle to the Big Bang Theory").
Many of the other Chapters get bogged down in what feels like a language catechism focused on the ‘rules of special grammar’ and other such details. As the author explains (on pg. 47), “General grammar is concerned with the relation of words to ideas and to realities, whereas special grammar, English or Latin or French or Spanish grammar is concerned principally with the relation of words to words . General grammar is more philosophical than special grammars because it is more directly related to logic and to metaphysics or ontology.” Such sections have benefit for particular reference, but scanning though the different parts of the book yields passages of more general interest and value.
As one example of the book’s gems, I was fascinated to learn of Sister’s background and the influence of Mortimer Adler in her career including his tutelage of her around the time of McLuhan’s article on “Ancient Quarrel in Modern America” in the late 1940’’s (see my review of Cameron’s "Eric Havelock and the Toronto School"). Works such as those mentioned above, provide more detail on the application of its three branches through the ages, but this book offers more detail on the Trivium definition as they help constitute the liberal arts.
As Sister is quoted in the Introduction, “The utilitarian or servile arts enable one to be a servant---of another person, of the state, of a corporation, or of a business----and to earn a living. The liberal arts, in contrast, teach one how to live, they train the faculties and bring them to perfection; they enable a person to rise above his material environment to live an intellectual, a rational, and therefore a free life in gaining truth.” It seems we all could benefit from more exposure to the Trivium and the lessons it seeks to offer in our disjointed times.
My first exposure to the Trivium came through my reading of Marshall McLuhan’s works (see my review of Gordon’s "McLuhan: A Guide for the Perplexed (Guides for the Perplexed) )." The work by Eric McLuhan (see my review of "The Sensus Communis, Synesthesia, and the Soul: An Odyssey") and McLuhan colleagues such as Walter Ong (see my review of his "Language as Hermeneutic: A Primer on the Word and Digitization") have also dealt with this classic framework for learning. In more recent years, others have built on the Trivium as a means of better understanding and working with “new media” (e.g. see my review of Brooke's "Lingua Fracta: Toward a Rhetoric of New Media (New Dimensions in Computers and Composition)").
Anyway, Sister’s book consists of eleven chapters that begin with explanations of (1) The Liberal Arts, and (2) The Nature and Function of Language. Proceeding from there, the text gets into more specifics about (3) General Grammar, (4) Definition and Division, (5) Propositions and Their Grammatical Expression, and (6) Relations of Simple Propositions. It continues with more detail about (7) The Simple Syllogism, (8) Relations of Hypothetical and Disjunctive Propositions, (9) Fallacies, and (10) A Brief Summary of Induction. The book concludes with an extensive chapter (11) on Composition and Reading. There are also extensive Notes, a background on Sister Miriam Joseph 1899-1982 and a useful Index.
My favorite parts and those most useful to me are Chapters 1 and 2 for their orientation to the Trivium and Chapter 10 regarding scientific induction. Chapter 11 is also of interest for its application of the Trivium to writing and literature. As we learn in the able Editor’s Introduction that “Aristotle’s theories of language and literature underlie this work” and that “. . . the Medieval and Renaissance trivium of grammar, logic and rhetoric . . . [offer] an integrated approach to unlocking the power of the mind . . . “ Sister comes across with such descriptions as “Logic is the art of thinking; grammar the art of inventing symbols [words] and combining them to express thought; and rhetoric the art of communicating thought from one mind to another, the adaptation of language to circumstance.” She also goes into depth on logic and its variations, such as “Induction is the legitimate derivation of general propositions from individual instances . . . Scientific induction as a means of discovering truth embraces five steps: observation, analogy, hypothesis, analysis and sifting of data, and verification of the hypothesis” (see my reviews of Priest’s "Logic: A Very Short Introduction (Very Short Introductions)" and Bauer’s "The Story of Western Science: From the Writings of Aristotle to the Big Bang Theory").
Many of the other Chapters get bogged down in what feels like a language catechism focused on the ‘rules of special grammar’ and other such details. As the author explains (on pg. 47), “General grammar is concerned with the relation of words to ideas and to realities, whereas special grammar, English or Latin or French or Spanish grammar is concerned principally with the relation of words to words . General grammar is more philosophical than special grammars because it is more directly related to logic and to metaphysics or ontology.” Such sections have benefit for particular reference, but scanning though the different parts of the book yields passages of more general interest and value.
As one example of the book’s gems, I was fascinated to learn of Sister’s background and the influence of Mortimer Adler in her career including his tutelage of her around the time of McLuhan’s article on “Ancient Quarrel in Modern America” in the late 1940’’s (see my review of Cameron’s "Eric Havelock and the Toronto School"). Works such as those mentioned above, provide more detail on the application of its three branches through the ages, but this book offers more detail on the Trivium definition as they help constitute the liberal arts.
As Sister is quoted in the Introduction, “The utilitarian or servile arts enable one to be a servant---of another person, of the state, of a corporation, or of a business----and to earn a living. The liberal arts, in contrast, teach one how to live, they train the faculties and bring them to perfection; they enable a person to rise above his material environment to live an intellectual, a rational, and therefore a free life in gaining truth.” It seems we all could benefit from more exposure to the Trivium and the lessons it seeks to offer in our disjointed times.
July 22, 2021
I approached this book with the purpose of deciding a very specific question. I wanted to consider the efficacy of explicitly teaching mental skills, rather than presenting other material with a practical focus on skill development. Must I teach logical fallacies to students, or could I accomplish a similar effect by teaching them chemistry or history while inviting them to think critically and engaging with their process?
Having read the book now, I am undecided. As one might have guessed, it would really come down to studying the effects in the field rather than theorizing from the armchair. But I will say that there is at least some value to students in learning the material here, and it was a value I did not expect beforehand. The attitude of the Trivium is that each subject describes reality in some way, and that the content we teach should find its place in an orderly and thoughtful worldview rather than simply existing as its own construct in isolation. Even though I read many things that were already familiar to me, I was pleasantly surprised by the way they were construed as natural parts of a coherent whole. The studies of grammar, logic, and rhetoric, though distinct in focus, all seem to be about the same thing in a way that appeals to both the philosophical and the practical mind.
This book would also function rather well as a resource for the aforementioned skills, though the book itself admits that its material is disconnected from the modern approach. Term logic, for example, is not equivalent to modern formal logic, though it shares similarities as a predecessor to the latter.
Would I teach from this book? I'm not sure. But I would definitely draw some inspiration from its content and priority set, and it is an excellent and edifying read regardless.
Having read the book now, I am undecided. As one might have guessed, it would really come down to studying the effects in the field rather than theorizing from the armchair. But I will say that there is at least some value to students in learning the material here, and it was a value I did not expect beforehand. The attitude of the Trivium is that each subject describes reality in some way, and that the content we teach should find its place in an orderly and thoughtful worldview rather than simply existing as its own construct in isolation. Even though I read many things that were already familiar to me, I was pleasantly surprised by the way they were construed as natural parts of a coherent whole. The studies of grammar, logic, and rhetoric, though distinct in focus, all seem to be about the same thing in a way that appeals to both the philosophical and the practical mind.
This book would also function rather well as a resource for the aforementioned skills, though the book itself admits that its material is disconnected from the modern approach. Term logic, for example, is not equivalent to modern formal logic, though it shares similarities as a predecessor to the latter.
Would I teach from this book? I'm not sure. But I would definitely draw some inspiration from its content and priority set, and it is an excellent and edifying read regardless.
June 4, 2020
Even though this book may appear rather dense and difficult to follow, the arduous journey is worth it because it provides a wealth of information concerning the adept use of syntax, grammar, semantics and logic-all in one "handbook". Arguably, the only downside to this book is that it could have been a bit more simplified and thus more accessible to all readers and not only to those who already know the logistics of rhetoric, debates and other forms of public speaking. For example, this book could have been expanded into two or three volumes with further explanatory commentary. Yet, this book is outstanding the way it is, irrespective of certain intricate linguistic issues and nuances examined.
November 28, 2018
A fantastic book. To the beginner it will seem very mysterious and even arcane, and put together strangely, but by a logic the book teaches, and so will seem sensible by the middle or before. The secret is that it's really a splicing together of Scholastic logic, basics of universal grammar from a book called Hermes and others, and rhetoric from Aristotle & some other places. So in a way it's half-baked, I mean it doesn't cover everything that you need to cover to understand all of what is in the book, but is excellent.
It was my first real philosophical book and it still seems magic to me.
It was my first real philosophical book and it still seems magic to me.
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