Ancient Semiotics and Modern Scholarship:

Giovanni Manetti’s Theories of the Sign in

Classical Antiquity


 

Some readers may wonder why a book by an Italian national, on classical antiquity, is being reviewed in the pages of Voices in Italian Americana. I refer them to my remarks in VIA 6.2, on re­viewing there Gian Biagio Conte’s Latin Literature: A History, as the same hold true here.

Manetti’s project is one that ought, in my opinion, to have been undertaken a very long time ago. The very words ‘semiotics,’ ‘semiology,’ ‘semasiological,’ and ‘semantic’ are derived from the ancient Greek root √sêm- : the verb sêmainô means ‘signify,’ and the nouns sêma and sêmeion mean a ‘sign’ or something that stands for something else. In fact, of course, Manetti is not the first to discuss the topic. Without leaving my desk I can reach for George Kennedy’s brief but very interesting note, “Ancient An­tecedents of Modern Literary Theory,” and D. S. Clarke’s Sources of Semiotic, each of which gives some awareness of the impor­tance of the ancient interest in what we now call semiotics. But a sustained investigation of ancient Greek and Roman theories of the sign was badly needed; and Manetti has now made substan­tial provision in this capacity.

Manetti finds the roots of formal significatory practice in div­ination and what he calls “magical medicine” (xv), and these not only in ancient Greece and Rome—which is what we usually mean by ‘classical antiquity’—but indeed in Mesopotamia of the third millennium BCE. Thus the book begins with a chapter on Mesopotamian divination; but it quickly becomes clear that these prolegomena are needed in order to situate us, first, to the phenomenon of ancient Greek divination (chapter 2), and then to the remarkable shift that occurred in Greek medicine, from es­sentially divinatory practices to what we would think of as a more scientific method of symptomatology (chapter 3).[1] Manetti makes the important point that in ancient Greece the sign is “the area in which divine knowledge erupts into the human sphere” (15). In this respect, I might add, semiotics can be compared to rhetoric.[2] However, the ‘language of the gods’ as represented in divine oracles differs from human speech first and foremost with reference to time: for the gods, who are not caught up in time as mortals are, past and present are equally present with the pre­sent.[3] It might be interesting to investigate the extent to which the development of rationalist approaches to semiotics paral­leled that of a more sophisticated understanding of time. Cer­tainly, in the ancient world, both reached a zenith of sorts in the work of Aristotle.

One of the loci classici for ancient semiotics is that fragment of Heraclitus numbered B93 in the collection of Diels and Kranz:

 

The lord [scil. Apollo] who has the oracle in Delphi

Neither discloses [legei] nor hides [kruptei] his thought, but indicates it through signs (sêmainei).[4]

 

Manetti’s translation of sêmainei here, as representing a form of semiosis that requires special interpretation (by prophets), is perhaps as good a solution to this desperately obscure conundrum as one is going to find: it makes internal sense, and moreover harmonizes this fragment with an important passage in Plato’s Timaeus (71e–72a). One is however left with the inference that—for Heraclitus at least, and presumably for those of his readers who could follow his train of thought[5]—ordinary human speech (typically signified by the verb legein, which Heraclitus also uses here) is not a form of semiosis requiring any kind of in­terpretation that might be called sêmainein; and thus that sêmainein in this period is not used, at least not principally used, in the ordinary modern semiotic sense of ‘signify’ or ‘represent.’ And that has far-reaching implications for the Derridean notion of logocentrism and the perceived transparency of referential meaning in language.

These early chapters of the book are followed by one each on Plato and Aristotle. Plato is obviously an important witness to the history of Greek semiotics. Manetti investigates his treat­ment of language in the Cratylus and the Seventh Letter.[6] The chapter on Aristotle looks in some detail at the opening words of the De interpretatione, at the connection between logic and signi­fication, at—of all things—the semiotics of physiognomy, and at the connection between signs and knowledge. Chapter 6 investi­gates Stoic philosophy; Manetti rightly emphasizes the close connection of semiotics, in its development by the Stoics, with grammar. The remainder of the book moves through some impor­tant moments in later antiquity: the Epicurean tradition, includ­ing an entire chapter on Philodemus, whose work on rhetoric is about to undergo a renaissance of scholarly interest; a variety of Latin rhetoricians (the Auctor ad Herennium, Cicero, and Quin­tilian); and a final and climactic chapter on Augustine.

There is much to be grateful for in this book, and I hope it will not be deemed cavilling if I mention what I would have liked to see included in it. The first thing that comes to mind is the enor­mous importance of non-linguistic semiotics in Plato. Here, by the way, let me mention that, while the International Association for Semiotic Studies “has resolved that the term ‘semiotics’ should be used as a translation of ‘semiology,’”[7] I will distin­guish here between them here as referring to the Peircean and the Saussurean schools respectively.[8] While Manetti is of course aware of the non-linguistic sign (see 84–87), the overwhelming majority of his attention is given to language—a distinctive predilection of the semiological rather than the semiotic ap­proach, as has been recently explored in Floyd Merrell’s Sign Textuality, World, another book in the same “Advances in Semi­otics” series in which Manetti’s appears. Thus, though in truth it would be a lengthy and difficult undertaking, one misses here a treatment of Plato’s doctrine of the Forms and the way in which the entire sensible world is in effect in semiosis with those—how, indeed, sensibles are diagnosed by Plato as signs of the Forms. To produce such a treatment one might begin with that portion of the Republic that describes the Divided Line (Book 6 ad fin., 507b–511e). This then will have enormous implications for Plato’s attitude toward mimesis, both linguistic and other­wise.[9] Plato’s theory of the Forms maps the realm in which semiotics overlaps with metaphysics itself; perhaps Manetti made the conscious decision to steer clear of such overtly philo­sophical speculations. And yet, more and more, semiotics itself is being embraced (even by professional philosophers, who have not always been so receptive) as an aspect of the philosophy of language. I would enjoy seeing demonstrated that it was already so in ancient Greece.

The other major lacuna, in my estimation, is in the chapter on Aristotle. Here again, Manetti might have given more attention to the non-linguistic sign, and particularly to Aristotle’s use of the term mimêsis, which is (I think) in diametric opposition to Plato’s use of the same term. It is true that Manetti does not shrink from a detailed explanation of De interpretatione 16a—surely the cornerstone of Western semiotic theory—but here his semiological orientation leads him toward a more Saussurean as­sessment; he misses the opportunity to show that his own ‘semiotic triangle’ (fig. 5.1, p. 72) is essentially a diagram of Peirce’s representamen-object-interpretant triad—and that Aris­totle’s theory is, while linguistically illustrated, not merely con­fined to the realm of language. In fact (and perhaps this has al­ready been done by someone) it would be interesting to investi­gate the extent to which the formulation of Peirce’s own model was influenced by his reading of Aristotle. For Manetti, how­ever, Aristotle’s “theory of the sign is completely distinct from the theory of language and may be located rather at the point of intersection between logic and rhetoric” (77); I think this seems so to him because he believes that Aristotle’s use of the word sêmeion at De interpretatione 16a 6 is “in a weak meaning” (72). I am inclined to disagree with that assessment; but the problem of technical vocabulary in Aristotle is extremely complicated, and perhaps without final solution.

Not surprisingly, the pioneering work of Umberto Eco looms fairly large behind this book. Indeed, he is invoked in its first sentence, and his is the only blurb on the dust-jacket. Other conti­nental scholarship with which Manetti is well-acquainted includes the French anthropological approach to Classics as ex­emplified by Vernant and Detienne. His evident approval of this school will not be shared by all American classicists; but then many of them will also be put off or threatened by the topic of semiotics.

As is typical of books produced by the Indiana University Press, this one is simply packaged, sturdy of binding and clear of print, on paper of high quality. Greek is transliterated, but (what is rare) both vowel-quantities and accents are marked. There is no index, and endnotes rather than footnotes are used, but a useful bibliography is included.

 

 

John T. Kirby

Purdue University

 

Works Cited

 

Clarke, D. S., Jr. Sources of Semiotic: Readings with Commentary from Antiquity to the Present. Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP, 1990.

Eco, Umberto. “Looking for a Logic of Culture.” The Tell-Tale Sign: A Survey of Semiotics. Ed. Thomas A. Sebeok. Lisse: Peter de Ridder, 1975. 9–17.

Kennedy, George A. “Ancient Antecedents of Modern Literary Theory.” American Journal of Philology 110 (1989): 492–98.

Kirby, John T. “Mimesis and Diegesis: Foundations of Aesthetic Theory in Plato and Aristotle.” Helios 18 (1991): 113–28.

___. “Toward a Rhetoric of Poetics: Rhetor as Author and Nar­rator.” The Journal of Narrative Technique 22 (1992): 1–22.

___. “Rhetoric and Poetics in Hesiod.” Ramus 21 (1992): 34–60.

Manetti, Giovanni. Theories of the Sign in Classical Antiquity. Trans. Christine Richardson. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1993.

Merrell, Floyd. Sign Textuality, World. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1992.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



[1]Both the divinatory and the ‘scientific’ approaches to medicine might, how­ever, be termed ‘semiotic’ in that they both depended on the interpretation of signs.

[2]On this see Kirby, “Rhetoric and Poetics in Hesiod.” It is interesting too that an acute twentieth-century critic, Roland Barthes, placed great emphasis on both semiology and rhetoric.

[3]On the importance of time in narrative, see the remarks in Kirby, “Toward a Rhetoric of Poetics” (with bibliography).

[4]Manetti 17 (italics his; I have added the glosses in square brackets).

[5]Even in antiquity, Heraclitus was known as ho skoteinos—‘the obscure.’

[6]He assumes for the purposes of this book that the Seventh Letter is authentic—or hedges, at least, by saying that ‘it contains sufficient material of interest in its own right to merit a careful analysis in this context’ (66).

[7]Eco 9.

[8]Manetti’s translator does not, of course, observe my distinction; see e.g. her use of ‘semiological’ on xiii.

[9]Treated in some detail in Kirby, “Mimesis and Diegesis.”