Stoner

"Such a limiting may seem foolishly rigorous to some of you; but I have no doubt that we shall find enough to keep us occupied even if we trace only superficially the course of the trivium upward into the sixteenth century. It is important that we realize that these arts of rhetoric, grammar, and dialectic meant something to a late medieval and early Renaissance man that we, today, can only dimly sense without an exercise of the historical imagination. To such a scholar, the art of grammar, for example, was not merely a mechanical disposition of the parts of speech. From late Hellenistic times through the Middle Ages, the study and practice of grammar included not only the 'skill of letters' mentioned by Plato and Aristotle; it included also, and this became very important, a study of poetry in its technical felicities, an exegesis of poetry both in form and substance, and nicety of style, insofar as that can be distinguished from rhetoric."

He felt himself warming to his subject, and he was aware that several of the students had leaned forward and had stopped taking notes. He continued: "Moreover, if we in the twentieth century are asked which of these three arts is the most important, we might choose dialectic, or rhetoric--but we would be most unlikely to choose grammar. Yet the Roman and medieval scholar--and poet--would almost certainly consider grammar the most significant. We must remember--"

A loud noise interrupted him. The door had opened and Charles Walker entered the room; as he closed the door the books he carried under his crippled arm slipped and crashed to the floor. He bent awkwardly, his bad leg extended behind him, and slowly gathered his books and papers. Then he drew himself erect and shuffled across the room, the scrape of his foot across the bare cement raising a loud and grating hiss that sounded sibilantly hollow in the room. He found a chair in the front row and sat down.

After Walker had settled himself and got his papers and books in order around his desk chair, Stoner continued: "We must remember that the medieval conception of grammar was even more general than the late Hellenistic or Roman. Not only did it include the science of correct speech and the art of exegesis, it included as well the modern conceptions of analogy, etymology, methods of presentation, construction, the condition of poetic license and the exceptions to that condition--and even metaphorical language or figures of speech."

As he continued, elaborating upon the categories of grammar he had named, Stoner's eyes flitted over the class; he realized that he had lost them during Walker's entrance and knew that it would be some time before he could once more persuade them out of themselves. Again and again his glance fell curiously upon Walker, who, after having taken notes furiously for a few moments, gradually let his pencil rest on his notebook, while he gazed at Stoner with a puzzled frown. Finally Walker's hand shot up; Stoner finished the sentence he had begun and nodded to him.

"Sir," Walker said, "pardon me, but I don't understand. What can"--he paused and let his mouth curl around the word--"grammar have to do with poetry? Fundamentally I mean. Real poetry."

Stoner said gently, "As I was explaining before you came in, Mr. Walker, the term 'grammar' to both the Roman and medieval rhetoricians was a great deal more comprehensive than it is today. To them, it meant--" He paused, realizing that he was about to repeat the early part of his lecture; he sensed the students stirring restlessly. "I think this relationship will become clearer to you as we go on, as we see the extent to which the poets and dramatists even of the middle and late Renaissance were indebted to the Latin rhetoricians."

"All of them, sir?" Walker smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Wasn't it Samuel Johnson who said of Shakespeare himself that he had little Latin and less Greek?"

As the repressed laughter stirred in the room Stoner felt a kind of pity come over him. "You mean Ben Jonson, of course."

Walker took off his glasses and polished them, blinking helplessly. "Of course," he said. "A slip of the tongue."

Though Walker interrupted him several times, Stoner managed to get through his lecture without serious difficulty, and he was able to make assignments for the first reports. He let the seminar out nearly half an hour early, and hurried away from the classroom when he saw Walker shuffling toward him with a fixed grin on his face. He clattered up the wooden stairs from the basement and took two at a time the smooth marble stairs that led to the second floor; he had the curious feeling that Walker was doggedly shuffling behind him, trying to overtake him in his flight. A hasty wash of shame and guilt came over him.

On the third floor he went directly to Lomax's office. Lomax was in conference with a student. Stoner stuck his head in the door and said, "Holly, can I see you for a minute after you're through?"