Catalogue Raisonné of J. L.
Speranza’s Publications – H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I
Verbali: So
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Socellio – Ossia: Grice e
Socellio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Socellio The gens Socellia was an
obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. No members of this
gens are mentioned by ancient writers, but several are known from
inscriptions. Origin Nearly half of the
Socellii mentioned in inscriptions came from towns in Samnium, strongly
suggesting that the family was of Samnite origin. Praenomina The main praenomina of the
Socellii were Gaius and Marcus, two of the most common names at all periods of
Roman history. There are also individual examples of Lucius, Publius, Quintus,
and Sextus, all of which were also common.
Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of
this practice, see filiation. Socellius, a centurion in the third cohort of a
legion stationed in Britannia between AD 122 and 138.[1] Gaius Socellius,
buried in a family sepulchre at Bovianum Vetus in Samnium, dating to the late
first century BC or early first century AD, along with his brother, Quintus,
and other relatives, and dedicated by Gaius Socellius Celer.[2] Gaius
Socellius, the master of Faustus, aged fifteen, and Auctus, aged twenty-two,
two slaves buried at Terventum in Samnium.[3] Lucius Socellius, named in an
inscription from Rome.[4] Quintus Socellius, buried in a family sepulchre at
Bovianum Vetus, dating to the early empire, along with his brother, Gaius, and
other relatives, and built by Gaius Socellius Celer.[2] Marcus Socellius M. l.
Auctus, a freedman, who together with his brother, Marcus Socellius Firmus,
dedicated a monument at Abellinum in Campania to their mother, Socellia
Prima.[5] Gaius Socellius Sex. f. Celer, dedicated a family sepulchre at
Bovianum Vetus for the brothers Gaius and Quintus Socellius, and other
relatives.[2] Socellius Chilo, a centurion mentioned in a second-century
inscription from Carales in Sardinia.[6] Marcus Socellius Cleno, built a
mid-first-century tomb at Opitergium in Venetia and Histria for his mother,
Socellia Pilinna.[7] Lucius Socellius Felix, dedicated a tomb at Rome for his
wife, Julia Gemella, aged twenty-seven, and another woman, named Cassia
Auxis.[8] Marcus Socellius M. l. Firmus, a freedman, and the brother of Marcus
Socellius Auctus, with whom he dedicated a monument at Abellinum to their
mother, Socellia Prima.[5] Marcus Socellius Januarius, together with his
mother-in-law, Laberia Restituta, dedicated a first-century tomb at Aeclanum in
Samnium to his wife, Quinctia Maximilla, aged twenty-four.[9] Socellia C. f.
Lucana, buried at Rome, aged seven years, thirty days, in a sepulchre built by
her parents, Gaius Socellius Saturninus and Blossia Januaria, for their family
and their patron, Socellia Quartilla.[10] Socellia M. l. Pilinna, buried in a
mid-first-century tomb at Opitergium, built by her son, Marcus Socellius
Cleno.[7] Socellia M. l. Prima, a freedwoman buried at Abellinum, with a
monument from her sons, Marcus Socellius Firmus and Marcus Socellius Auctus.[5]
Socellia P. f. Prima, dedicated a tomb at Rome for her husband, Quintus Roscius
Gratus.[11] Socellia Quartilla, buried at Rome, in a family sepulchre built by
her clients, Gaius Socellius Saturninus and Blossia Januaria.[10] Gaius Socellius
Saturninus, together with his wife, Blossia Januaria, built a sepulchre at Rome
for themselves, their daughter, Socellia Lucana, and their patron, Socellia
Quartilla.[10] Socellius Ursio, buried at Vibinum in Apulia, in a third-century
tomb dedicated by his children.[12] See also List of Roman gentes
References RIB, i. 1675, 1768, iii.
3413. CIL IX, 6853. CIL IX, 6732.
CIL VI, 39789. Labruna, Storia
sociale dell'Hirpinia, 3. EE, viii. 1, 710. CIL V, 2018.
CIL VI, 39758. Supplementa
Italica, 29-Ae, 79. CIL VI, 26616. CIL VI,
25479. AE 1994, 522. Bibliography
Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin
Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der
Wissenschaften (1853–present). Supplementa Italica (Supplement for Italy),
Unione Accademica Nazionale. Wilhelm Henzen, Ephemeris Epigraphica: Corporis
Inscriptionum Latinarum Supplementum (Journal of Inscriptions: Supplement to
the Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum, abbreviated EE), Institute of Roman
Archaeology, Rome (1872–1913). René Cagnat et alii,
L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses
Universitaires de France (1888–present). The Roman
Inscriptions of Britain (abbreviated RIB), Oxford, (1990–present). E. Labruna,
Storia sociale dell'Hirpinia in età imperiale (The Story of Hirpinia in the
Imperial Age, 2013). Category: Roman gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L.
(n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Socellio
– Ossia: Grice e Socellio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Socellio For the
Socellii, we are back in the epigraphic world, where one has to choose not the
most famous person, but the most philosophically suggestive one. My choice
would be Gaius Socellius Saturninus and his patron Socellia Quartilla. The
inscription tells us that Saturninus and his wife built a family tomb not only
for themselves and their daughter Socellia Lucana, but also for their patron
Socellia Quartilla. [GREXv3 | Word] Why does that strike me as Gricean? Because
it raises the question: What does one
communicate by including someone in one's family memory? An epitaph is never merely information. Grice
e Socellio: Quis de Familia Est? SATVRNINVS. Hoc monumentum familiae meae est.
(This monument is for my family.) INTERROGATOR. Cur etiam Quartillam continet?
(Why does it also include Quartilla?) SATVRNINVS. Patrona fuit. (She was our
patron.) INTERROGATOR. Ergo familia est? (Then is she family?) SATVRNINVS. Non
sanguine, sed beneficio. (Not by blood, but by benefaction.) GRICE.
Significatio socialis saepe latior est quam significatio biologica. (Social
meaning is often broader than biological meaning.) +> Inclusion communicates
a relationship beyond mere kinship. What
I find attractive here is that Roman inscriptions constantly perform speech
acts. The stone says: "Here lie X
and Y." But often means: "These people belonged together." The act of inclusion itself is communicative.
But the family tomb is richer, because it concerns social reference. Who counts
as "one of us"? Roman epitaphs answer that question by whom they
choose to remember together. Dry Speranzian formula The Sinnii preserve words; the Socellii
preserve relationships. Gaius Socellius Saturninus used a tomb to say more than
a tomb can literally say. The inscription records persons; the monument
communicates belonging. [GREXv3 | Word]
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Socellio – Ossia: Grice e
Socellio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Socellio
A close second candidate would be Socellius Chilo, the centurion in
Sardinia, or the anonymous Socellius serving in Britain under Hadrian. [GREXv3 | Word] The military setting always invites Gricean reflections
on signals, commands, and authority.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Solari – Ossia: Grice e
Solari: la ragione conversazionale dell’iustum/iussum, o il tutore fascista.
Note sulla filosofia del diritto. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Gioele
Solari (Albino, Lombardia): la ragione conversazionale dell’iustum/iussum, o il
tutore fascista. Grice and Solari converge on the idea that reason is
not an abstract faculty detached from social life but a governing principle
operative within concrete practices, yet they articulate this insight at
different levels of analysis and with different emphases. Solari, working
within the Italian tradition of legal and historical philosophy shaped by Roman
jurisprudence and Vico’s verum-factum principle, conceives “ragione
conversazionale” as civil prudence: reason applied to historically constituted
institutions, where the distinction between iussum (what is commanded) and
iustum (what is just) is negotiated through praxis, not deduced from universal
norms. For Solari, rationality is embedded in law, language, and custom, and
its authority derives from their communal and historical formation. Grice, by
contrast, reconstructs reason-governed practice at the micro-level of
communicative exchange: his theory of conversational meaning explains how
rational agents coordinate understanding by relying on shared assumptions,
intentions, and principles of cooperation, which he treats as reconstructible
norms rather than historically given institutions. Yet the affinity is
substantive: Grice’s method of rational reconstruction plays a role analogous
to Solari’s juridical historicism, translating inherited practices into
explicit reasons, while his emphasis on ordinary language and intention
resonates with the Italian focus on concrete linguistic and legal forms. Where
Solari sees reason unfolding through the institutional history of the iustum,
Grice sees it operating in the inferential and normative structure of
conversation; both reject purely speculative rationalism and locate reason in
lived, rule-governed human activity, one at the level of law and civil order,
the other at the level of communicative interaction. Grice: “S. represents a
synthesis of the Italian philosophical tradition, which prioritises praxis and
the historical evolution of concrete institutions over abstract speculation.
His work bridges the gap between the foundational realism of Roman law and the
historicist science of VICO . Rootedness in Roman Legal Realism The
Italian tradition, beginning with Roman law, views philosophy not as a detached
study of "Being," but as jurisprudence — the practical art of the
"good and the equitable" (ars boni et aequi). Practical
Utility: Roman jurists did not seek universal metaphysical truths. They develop
laws from specific cases to resolve social conflicts. S.’s Adoption: S. grounds
his philosophy in this "juridical" mindset, viewing the law as the
objective social framework where the abstract moral value must find concrete
expression to be valid. VICO (veddasi)’s Verum-Factum and
Historicism S.’s approach is deeply Vichian, adopting the principle that
"the true is the made" -- verum ipsum factum. Against Pure
Speculation: VICO argues that humans can only truly know what they
have created: history, language – la lingua ordinaria – il latino -- , and law.
He rejects the Cartesian "geometric method" for a philological-historical
approach that examines how social reality is built. Civil Prudence:
Like VICO , S. emphasises "civil prudence" — the application of
REASON – la ragione conversazionale -- to historical circumstances rather than
to fixed, abstract categories. roma antica, Giorgio Guglielmo Federico Hegel,
Spaventa, hegelianismo, iustum/iussum – storia della filosofia del diritto
romano, cicerone; diritto naturale, IVS NATVRALE, Gaio, citato da Vico,
Giustiniano, diritto romano in eta del principato, IVS GENTIVM, IVS VNIVERSALI,
sato di natura, i ferini di Vico, il metodo pirotologico di Grice –
ri-costruzione razionale, Bennett, significato naturale. Grice: Caro Solari, sa, la mia formazione in
Literae Humaniores a Clifton mi ha insegnato il valore di distinguere tra
iussum e iustum. In Inghilterra, tra i barbari, spesso queste finezze si
perdono, mentre qui, in Italia—terra del latino—sono ancora il cuore della
riflessione filosofica. Solari: È vero, Grice. In Italia la tradizione
filosofica si nutre proprio di queste distinzioni concrete. Non parliamo solo
di "giusto" in astratto, ma di ciò che prende forma nelle istituzioni
reali, nella vita quotidiana, come ci insegnano i giuristi romani. Grice: Mi
affascina come il diritto romano sia stato sempre un’arte pratica, l’ars boni
et aequi. Non si cercava l’assoluto, ma si dava risposta ai bisogni della
società. È una filosofia che vive nella storia, non nell’astrazione. Solari:
Esattamente. Seguendo Vico, credo che “il vero è il fatto”: solo ciò che l’uomo
costruisce nella storia può essere conosciuto davvero. Per noi, la prudenza
civile non è teoria, ma ragione applicata alle circostanze concrete. Questa è la forza della nostra tradizione. Taking as basis the passage
below please provide without preamble or ps a 100-move conversation G. and S.
on why diritto needs a philosophy, basing on Solari -- and how Hart comes in
and changes everything: there is ordinary language philosophy of law -- and
philosophy of law is the conceptual analysis or logical grammar of 'law' -- and
how LACK of a philosophy of law is positivism, which is the crudest philosophy
of law of all and that Solari knows this. G.: Let us begin with the noun
itself, because diritto is one of those words that look self-explanatory only
to those who have never been properly interrogated by them. S.: And in Italy
the noun arrives already carrying law, right, justice, order, and half of Rome
on its back. G.: Exactly. Which is why diritto needs a philosophy. A word so
overburdened cannot safely be left to lawyers, still less to legislators. S.:
Or to positivists. G.: Least of all to positivists, because positivism, for all
its anti-metaphysical modesty, is the crudest philosophy of law of all. S.:
That is a sentence Hart would dislike, though he would partly deserve it. G.:
Hart deserves worse only when he is mistaken for a mere positivist in the old
coarse sense. He begins by admitting something Solari knew perfectly well: that
even the attempt to deny philosophy to law is already a philosophy of law. S.:
Exactly. Solari sees that the refusal of philosophy is not neutrality but
doctrine. G.: Yes. To say that law is only what is posited, enforced, and
socially effective is not to escape philosophy; it is merely to adopt the
poorest one available. S.: A sort of dietary metaphysics. G.: Very good. Thin
enough to be sold as realism, but not nourishing. Solari, because he stands in
the Roman and Vichian line, knows that diritto is too historical, too
practical, too linguistic, too institutional to be reduced either to command or
to abstract moralism. S.: Hence iussum and iustum. G.: Precisely. The commanded
and the just. The whole difficulty of diritto is already compressed into that
Latin pair. S.: And one might say that philosophy of law begins exactly when
one notices that the two are not coextensive. G.: Splendid. If iussum and
iustum coincided perfectly, jurisprudence would be clerical filing and
philosophy could go back to bed. S.: But they do not coincide. The commanded
may fail to be just; the just may lack legal force. G.: Exactly. And once that
gap appears, diritto becomes philosophically dangerous. Is law what is laid
down, or what deserves to be laid down, or what a society has made
authoritative under certain recognisable forms, or what a rational
reconstruction of practice shows it to be? S.: Solari would say: all these
questions arise only because law is a humanly made institution that cannot be
known as a stone is known. G.: Verum ipsum factum, yes. Vico matters because he
turns knowledge back toward human products: law, language, history,
institutions. One knows diritto not by geometric deduction but by understanding
what has been made and how it has been lived. S.: Which means philosophy of law
cannot be only conceptual in the thin sense. It must also be historical. G.: Up
to a point, yes. But here is where Hart enters and changes the game, or at
least the classroom. Hart says, in effect, let us ask what we mean by law, what
logical grammar this concept has, what distinguishes rules from habits,
obligations from predictions, internal from external points of view. S.: And
suddenly philosophy of law becomes a species of ordinary language philosophy.
G.: Precisely. Or, if one wants to alarm the Continent, the conceptual analysis
of “law.” S.: Which sounds dry until one notices how much of the old confusion
it sweeps away. G.: Exactly. Hart cleans the room. He does not abolish history,
but he refuses to let jurisprudence remain a cloud of reverence around state
power or natural-law rhetoric. He asks how people actually use and understand
legal concepts in a rule-governed social practice. S.: Solari would not hate
that. G.: No, that is the interesting point. Solari is too good to despise
conceptual work. What he would resist is the illusion that conceptual analysis
can float free of the institutional and historical life of diritto. S.: So Hart
changes everything, but not by making history irrelevant. He changes it by
forcing philosophy of law to attend to the grammar of the concept itself. G.:
Very good. Before Hart, too much philosophy of law either sermonised or
systematised. Hart asks: what is a rule, what is an obligation, what makes a legal
system more than a threat backed by force? S.: Which is where command theory
begins to look rather peasant-like. G.: Yes. Austin’s command theory, for all
its disciplinary elegance, becomes too blunt. Law is not merely the sovereign
saying do this or else. There are rules conferring powers, secondary rules,
procedures of recognition, adjudication, and change. S.: So positivism becomes
refined. G.: Hart refines it, yes. But that only sharpens your earlier
sentence: lack of a philosophy of law is the crudest positivism, because it
takes positivity as brute fact and forgets that positivity itself is
conceptually structured. S.: Which is why Solari knows the danger. He is too
Roman and too Vichian to believe that law is merely a pile of commands. G.: Exactly.
Roman jurisprudence is an ars boni et aequi, not a stenography of orders. The
jurists reason from cases, distinctions, equity, persons, statuses,
obligations, and remedies. They do not merely receive legislative thunderbolts.
S.: So Roman law already teaches that diritto is a practical reason embodied in
institutions. G.: Beautifully put. And that is why it needs philosophy: because
its object is neither a pure norm nor a pure fact, but a historically formed
order of practical reasons, powers, recognitions, and evaluations. S.: Then
perhaps we should distinguish two questions. First, why law needs philosophy at
all. Second, what sort of philosophy it needs. G.: Yes. On the first: because
law is internally related to concepts of authority, obligation, validity,
personhood, power, interpretation, and justice, none of which can be used
indefinitely without philosophical clarification. S.: And on the second? G.: On
the second: because the law needs a philosophy that is at once conceptual,
practical, and historical. Solari supplies the historical-juridical and
civil-prudential side; Hart supplies the analytical and grammatical side. S.:
That sounds suspiciously ecumenical. G.: Only because both men are better than
their followers. Solari sees that legal life is made in time, and Hart sees
that what is made in time still has a logical structure worth distinguishing
carefully. S.: Then where does ordinary language philosophy of law begin? G.:
In the moment one asks not “What is Justice?” in a thunderous abstract voice,
but “How do we distinguish being obliged from being under threat? What do we
mean when we say a rule is valid? What is it for a court to have jurisdiction?
What is a legal power?” S.: So philosophy of law becomes the ordinary language
analysis of extraordinary institutions. G.: Excellent. That is almost too good.
Yes. Hart domesticates jurisprudence just enough to see its real intricacy. S.:
And that is what changes everything. The old grand alternatives—natural law,
command theory, historical romanticism—must now answer grammatical questions
they had often slid past. G.: Precisely. Once one is asked whether a legal
system can contain rules about rules, whether obligation is reducible to fear,
whether authority can be understood internally by participants rather than
merely externally by observers, much of the older coarseness becomes
unbearable. S.: Solari, though, would say that even these grammatical
distinctions have a Roman and historical body. G.: Yes. He would remind us that
concepts like person, office, right, property, and obligation are not eternal
atoms but institutions shaped through legal history and social practice. S.:
Which is where Vico enters again. G.: Inevitably. If the true is the made, then
law is one of the primary regions in which human beings may know what they have
made—not because it is transparent, but because it is theirs. S.: That sounds
like a rebuke to those who treat legal order as either revelation or nature.
G.: Quite. Or as mere force. The legal order is a made order, and therefore
intelligible only through a combination of history, philology, concept, and
practical reason. S.: Then why do you call bare positivism the crudest
philosophy of law? G.: Because it takes the existence of posited norms as
sufficient and asks too little about the forms under which such norms count as
law, the practices of recognition by which they are accepted, the evaluative
vocabulary that still clings to them, and the gap between effective command and
juridical legitimacy. S.: In other words, it takes iussum without understanding
why iustum continues to haunt it. G.: Exactly. Even the crudest command
theorist lives parasitically on a legal culture in which justice, equity,
rights, and legitimacy continue to matter, whether acknowledged or not. S.: So
the positivist who says “law is just what is laid down” is still speaking in a
social world shaped by expectations about justification and fairness. G.: Yes.
He is living on inherited credit. That is why the denial of philosophy is never
a philosophical blank; it is merely a failure to examine the assumptions one
still spends. S.: Hart at least examines them. G.: He does. Hart’s internal
point of view is already a philosophical rescue-operation. It shows that rules
are not mere predictive regularities enforced by threats; they are standards
accepted, invoked, criticised, and used by participants as reasons. S.: Which
sounds almost Solarian. G.: In a very English way, yes. Solari would say civil
prudence; Hart says internal aspect. Different registers, but both reject the
reduction of law to brute obedience. S.: Then what remains of iussum? G.:
Plenty. Law is still commanded, posited, promulgated, institutionalised. But
the legal philosopher asks under what conditions such positing becomes
intelligible as law rather than as mere order backed by force. S.: So iussum
needs grammar. G.: Excellent. And iustum needs history. S.: Then diritto is the
field in which the two must converse. G.: Precisely. Law is where commandedness
and justifiedness negotiate under institutional conditions. S.: That sounds
very Solari. G.: It is meant to. Solari is useful because he never mistakes law
for either pure command or pure moral essence. He sees it as historically
formed praxis, where the just is sought in and through what has been socially
ordered. S.: So no speculative rationalism, but no brute factualism either. G.:
Exactly. And that is why philosophy is necessary. Without philosophy, law
degenerates into either administrative coercion or sentimental moralism. With
philosophy, one may at least see the structure of the conflict. S.: Then the
old Roman jurists were already philosophers, whether they admitted it or not.
G.: In the best sense, yes. They practised distinctions under pressure. They
were less interested in Being than in action, relation, remedy, equity,
competence, title, and the fit of norm to case. S.: Which is why law in Rome
remained closer to prudence than to theory. G.: Precisely. And Solari loves
that. He sees in Roman jurisprudence a realism not of brute fact but of
practical settlement: the art of the good and the equitable. S.: Ars boni et
aequi. G.: Yes. And notice the rhetorical grandeur of that formula. It names
law not as command, but as art. S.: So law begins in practice and judgment, not
in ontology. G.: Very good. That is why legal philosophy in Italy often remains
more civil and historical than the grand Germanic metaphysics of right. S.:
Though Hegel intrudes eventually. G.: Hegel intrudes everywhere, but even he
must answer to institutions and history. Solari knows his Hegel, but he does
not let Geist erase the jurists. S.: And Hart, coming later, translates the
problem into analytical prose. G.: Exactly. He asks: what do we mean by legal
validity, by rule, by obligation, by a system of primary and secondary rules?
It is a different idiom, but the problem remains the same. S.: Which is why,
perhaps, philosophy of law after Hart becomes the logical grammar of law. G.:
Up to a point. One must not let grammar become another abstraction. But yes: philosophy
of law becomes partly the analysis of how legal concepts function, what
differences they mark, what inferential roles they bear, how they structure
practice. S.: And that is ordinary language philosophy of law. G.: Or one
strand of it. The great gain is that one need no longer pretend that law is
philosophically addressed only by grand theories of justice or sovereignty. The
very use of words like “duty,” “right,” “power,” “authority,” “valid,” “void,”
“obliged,” “liable,” “responsible,” and so forth becomes philosophically
central. S.: Which is probably why legal philosophers became so much less
theatrical and so much more dangerous. G.: Dangerous to lazy thought, yes. Once
the grammar is exposed, whole schools begin to look under-described. S.: Including
natural law? G.: Certainly. Natural law is safest when left in noble blur. Ask
it how “ought” relates to “validity,” or how moral defect affects legal status,
and it must start doing better work. S.: And positivism too. G.: Especially
positivism. Once one distinguishes rule from threat, validity from efficacy,
internal from external viewpoints, the old positivist smugness is no longer
enough. S.: Then Solari before Hart and Hart after Solari both attack the same
enemy from different directions. G.: That is a useful way to put it. Solari
attacks abstraction detached from history and civil practice. Hart attacks
coarseness detached from conceptual structure. S.: So one might say Solari
saves law from metaphysical emptiness, and Hart saves it from conceptual
slovenliness. G.: Excellent. Keep that. S.: Thank you. G.: Do not become
pleased with yourself. Now, what of diritto itself as a word? Does it lean more
toward right or toward law? S.: In Italian it leans both ways, which is why it
is so fruitful and so dangerous. It can mean objective law, subjective right,
legal order, justice, jurisprudence. G.: Exactly. Its ambiguity is not
accidental; it records a history in which law and right were never fully
severed. S.: Whereas English splits more quickly between law and right. G.:
Yes. Which makes English analytically useful but sometimes historically
amnesiac. Diritto reminds one that legal order and rightful claim have long
inhabited the same lexical house. S.: So philosophy is needed partly because
language itself has not finished distinguishing the things. G.: Precisely. And
Hart’s conceptual analysis is, among other things, a disciplined effort to say
what our ordinary language partly mingles. S.: Yet Solari would insist that the
mingling is historically significant, not a mere defect. G.: Very good. It
reflects the historical formation of institutions. One cannot simply shave the
word into modern neatness without losing the civil sediment it carries. S.: So
philosophy of law must be at once analytic and archaeological. G.: Splendid.
That is exactly right. S.: Then does Hart really change everything, or only the
terms in which everything must now be argued? G.: Better the latter. He changes
the discipline by making certain forms of vagueness no longer respectable.
After Hart, one cannot go on speaking about law as if command, rule, validity,
obligation, authority, discretion, and interpretation were obvious. S.: Which
means even critics of Hart must first pass through him. G.: Very often. As
critics of Kant still smell faintly Kantian. S.: Then Solari now looks almost
prophetic. G.: In the sense that he already knew law could not survive without
philosophy, yes. Not because he anticipated Hart in method, but because he knew
that legal life is conceptually and historically too rich to be left either to
doctrinaires or to administrators. S.: So the final lesson is that law without
philosophy becomes either command or sentiment, and philosophy without law
becomes either abstraction or sermon. G.: Excellent. And the best legal
philosophy stands exactly where Solari stands at his best: between iussum and
iustum, with Rome behind him, Vico at his side, and just enough prudence to
know that concepts live in institutions before they live in treatises. S.: And
Hart? G.: Hart arrives later with English dryness and asks what we have been
saying all along when we say “law.” It is a small question, and therefore a
revolutionary one. S.: Dry enough? G.: Sufficiently Lombard, with one Oxford
raincloud over it.Solari, Gioele (1901). La filosofia del diritto. Torino:
Bocca.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Soldati – Ossia: Grice e
Soldati: la ragione conversazionale e la rettorica conversazionale. Note
sull’arte rettorica. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Matteo Luigi Soldati
(Pistoia, Toscana): la ragione conversazionale e la rettorica conversazionale. Grice and Matteo Luigi Soldati meet on the terrain of conversation
understood as a rational, yet inherently rhetorical, human practice, though
they articulate that practice from different intellectual lineages: Grice
reconstrued everyday talk as governed by reason through shared norms of
cooperation, showing how speakers routinely convey more than they explicitly
say by exploiting defeasible expectations, irony, understatement, and
connective nuance, while Soldati, working within the Italian rhetorical and scholastic
tradition of Pistoia, treated those same maneuvers as the very substance of
conversational rhetoric itself, where practical intelligence operates not by
formal inference but by tact, contrast, and insinuation. What Grice analyzed
analytically as conversational implicature—how a phrase like “He is a fine
fellow” can rationally convey criticism through irony, or how particles such as
“but” reshape inferential force beyond truth‑conditions—Soldati taught
normatively as rhetorical craft, training speakers to govern meaning through
figures such as litotes, meiosis, and strategic concession, so that
understanding emerges between the lines rather than in asserted propositions.
Grice’s theory thus gives Soldati’s rhetorical pedagogy a modern philosophical
foundation by explaining why such devices work in virtue of reason‑governed
expectations rather than ornament alone, while Soldati offers Grice a
historical reminder that pragmatics is, at bottom, a continuation of
conversational rhetoric, where rationality shows itself less as formal system
than as cultivated sensitivity to how meaning is responsibly and effectively
made manifest in ordinary social exchange. Grice: “I like S.. In my
‘Philosopher’s paradox” I used ‘He is a fine fellow’ as example of irony – G.
N. Leech is right: my pragmatics is mere conversational rhetoric! At Corpus,
the rhetorical tradition is strong, since the times Reinalds lectured on
Cicero’s Oratore in Latin! But of course I never undertook, as Holdcroft wanted
me to, a serious systematic study – and would just drop ‘meiosis,’ ‘litotes,’
and the rest – at the drop of a cricket cap!” – Keywords: rettorica
converazioanel. Pistoia, Toscana. Professore di rettorica nel
seminario e collegio di Pistoja. Pur valente latinista. L'ARTE RETTO RICA
SPIEGATA DALL'ABATE S. AD USO... S.
COLLEZIONE PISTOIESE R0SSI-CASSI60LI 3IBLIOTECA NAZIONALE CENTRALE -
FIRENZE e. j ♦ R. BIBLIOTECA NAZIONALE CENTRALE DI FIRENZE COLLEZIONE PISTOIESE
RACCOLTA DAL Cav. FILIPPO ROSSI-CASSIGOLI nato a Pistola m.
Pistola Pergamene - Autografi - Manoscritti - Libri a stampa -
Opuscoli - Incisioni - Disegni - Opere musicali - Facsimile d' iscrizioni -
Sditti - Manifesti - Proclami - Avvisi e Periodici. -» /
I j L' ARTE RETTORICA SPIEGATA DALL ABATI MATTEO LUIGI S. AD USO DEL
SEMINARIO E COLLEGIO VESCOVILE DI PISTOJA S DEDICAT 4 fflO ino ALL' ILL. E
RfcV. MONSIGNORE FRANCESCO TOH VESCOVO DI PISTOJA E PRATO PRELATO DOMESTICO
DELLA SANTITÀ DI N. S. PAPA PIO. BD .ASSISTENTI AL SOGLIO PONTIFICI^vj^Ì3^^ '9
IN PISTOJA 1804. PRESSO GIOVANNI BRACALI E FIGLIO STAMPATORI TBSCOTILI. Co»
Approvatine i tuo wo ILLVSTR. E REVEREND. MONSIGNORE Jl
desiderio sincero di rendermi utile alla studiosa Gioventù tielf impiego di
Retore , che da non pochi anni ho \# more d'esercitare nel vostro
Seminari^ e Collegio Pistoiese, IL L USTR ISS. , e RE- VERENDISS.
prammatica come rettorica conversazionale. Grice: Soldati, devo confessare che
la vostra arte rettorica qui a Pistoia ha un certo sapore, come dire, più
frizzante del mio vecchio Corpus. Se solo Reinalds potesse sentire la vostra
spiegazione di una litote… forse smetterebbe di citare Cicerone ogni tre
battute! Soldati: Ma caro Grice, la rettorica pistoiese non teme paragoni: qui
persino la pergamena sa ridere! In seminario abbiamo trasformato la prammatica
in una conversazione, e la conversazione in una partita di scacchi. Non è vero
che una battuta ben piazzata può cambiare l’intera partita? Grice: Ah, Soldati,
lei mi ricorda il mio pupil Strawson, al Vadum Boum – la sua università – che,
poveretto, cercava la rettorica, ma non l’ha mai trovata così “triviale” come i
ragazzi la trovano a Bononia. Forse a Oxford ci manca il piacere sottile di una
battuta toscana, dove la prammatica si cela dietro un sorriso e il vero
significato si intuisce solo tra le righe… Soldati: Perfetta implicatura
oratoria, Grice! Lei, più di tutti, sa che una conversazione ben condotta non
ha bisogno di proclami: basta un accenno, e il pubblico si scioglie come il
burro sulle tagliatelle. E come diceva l’abate: “Chi sa parlare, sa sorridere.”
Taking as base the passage below: please provide a 100-move conversation
between G. and S. specifically on Soldati -- arte retorica o retorica, and
which is the most trivial of the trivium, and would would have happened to
civilisation -- Bologna and Oxford, if philosophers had started with the
quadrivium rather than the trivium, but basically focus on the rettorica
because some say that pragmatics is but conversational rhetoric, etc -- thanks G.: Let us begin
with the title itself: arte rettorica or merely rettorica. Which would Soldati
have preferred if nobody had required him to look useful to a seminary? S.: The
title-page says L’arte rettorica, which already tells us he wants rhetoric not
merely as a field but as a teachable craft. G.: Exactly. Arte promises rules,
transmission, exercise, and examinability. Rettorica alone might sound too
large, too Ciceronian, too unruly, almost as if one were dealing with the whole
civil domain of persuasive speech. S.: While arte rettorica says: this can be
taught to boys before they become dangerous. G.: Or before they become bishops,
which is often the same thing under another description. S.: Then the first
distinction is between rhetoric as object and rhetoric as practice. G.: More
sharply: between rhetoric as theory of effective speech and the art of rhetoric
as the pedagogically organised means of producing effective speakers. S.: So
Soldati is already institutional. G.: Entirely. He is writing ad uso del
Seminario e Collegio Vescovile di Pistoja. That phrase does half the philosophy
before the first page is turned. S.: Because it means rhetoric is here under
discipline, not merely admired. G.: Yes. This is not rhetoric at large in the
forum, but rhetoric filtered through seminary use, approval, utility, and
episcopal decorum. S.: Yet the funny thing is that rhetoric under such
discipline may still become the liveliest thing in the building. G.: Always.
Once one starts teaching tact, insinuation, strategic concession, litotes,
meiosis, irony, one is never very far from dangerous civilisation. S.: Which is
why you like him. G.: I do. Because Soldati reminds one that what I later call
pragmatics had for centuries been housed under rhetoric with considerably more
elegance and rather less anxiety. S.: Then the great question is whether
pragmatics is merely conversational rhetoric in modern dress. G.: Leech said
something very like that, and he was not wholly wrong. The problem is that
“merely” does too much work. S.: Because if pragmatics is conversational
rhetoric, that is not a diminution but a genealogy. G.: Precisely. The modern
analyst likes to think he has discovered inferential surplus in conversation.
The rhetorician had already been teaching it to adolescents with ecclesiastical
ambitions. S.: Under names like litotes and meiosis rather than scalar
implicature and defeasible uptake. G.: Exactly. The old labels are often better
because they do not pretend the thing has just been invented. S.: Then why did
rhetoric decline in philosophical prestige? G.: Because philosophers are vain
and prefer categories that sound less like school exercises and more like late
revelation. S.: That is severe. G.: It is fair. Also because rhetoric became
associated with ornament, persuasion, and suspected manipulation, whereas logic
and later philosophy wanted truth, validity, and a cleaner conscience. S.: Yet
ordinary conversation never ceased to depend upon rhetorical competence. G.:
Quite. One does not survive socially by syllogism alone. Even the driest Oxford
don lives by concession, contrast, understatement, suggestion, strategic
omission, and all the old arts the trivium once kept in circulation. S.: Which
brings us to the trivium itself. Which is the most trivial of the three? G.:
Ah, the dangerous question. Grammar will claim priority because without grammar
no sentence stands. Logic will claim dignity because without logic no inference
deserves respect. Rhetoric will be called trivial by those who do not understand
that the other two are socially helpless without it. S.: So in your view the
most trivial is whatever the curriculum pretends can be left till last. G.:
Very nearly. In practice, rhetoric is often treated as decorative completion
after grammar and logic have done the serious work. But that treatment is
itself philosophically trivial. S.: Because rhetoric governs actual uptake. G.:
Exactly. Grammar gives form, logic gives discipline, rhetoric gives contact
with hearers. If civilisation had begun with logic and stayed there, nobody
would ever have been persuaded to build Bologna. S.: Or Oxford. G.: Still less
Oxford. Oxford is a rhetorical settlement pretending to be a logical one. S.:
That is almost too true. G.: Most useful things are. Now, what would have happened
if philosophers had started with the quadrivium rather than the trivium? S.: We
should have had more astronomers with bad tempers and fewer lawyers with style.
G.: A good beginning. More seriously, if arithmetic, geometry, music, and
astronomy had formed the first habits of mind before grammar, logic, and
rhetoric, civilisation would have tilted toward structure before utterance. S.:
Meaning that number, proportion, and order would precede speech, argument, and
persuasion. G.: Yes. The consequences would have been immense. Bologna might
have become less a university of jurists and more a university of calculators.
Oxford might have had fewer sermons and more instruments. S.: And fewer essays.
G.: A loss to everyone except the essay-writers. More deeply, if the quadrivial
disciplines came first, one might learn harmony before disagreement, proportion
before disputation, celestial order before civic speech. S.: Which sounds
attractive until one remembers that civilisation is mostly disagreement about proportion
expressed in bad prose. G.: Excellent. That is why the trivium came first.
Humans need words before they need stars, or at least they need words to argue
about the stars. S.: So the educational order is not arbitrary. Speech precedes
number in social necessity. G.: Precisely. The quadrivium may promise a higher
serenity, but the trivium deals with immediate human conditions: how to speak,
how to argue, how to persuade, how not to be laughed out of court. S.: Soldati
would approve. G.: Entirely. Arte rettorica is for boys who must soon speak to
persons, not merely to ratios. S.: Yet some scholastics would say the
quadrivium disciplines the mind more rigorously. G.: Perhaps. But rigor without
address is poor civilisation. One may have perfect geometry and still fail to
tell one’s hearer what one means, or worse, succeed only accidentally. S.: So
rhetoric remains the least trivial of the trivium in practical life. G.: I
should say so. Grammar is indispensable, logic is honourable, but rhetoric is
where social intelligence enters as method rather than as accident. S.: That is
very close to saying pragmatics is rhetoric cleaned up for modern analysis. G.:
Cleaned up, reduced, re-labelled, and made slightly ashamed of its own
ancestry. S.: Why ashamed? G.: Because modern philosophers fear persuasion.
They would rather speak of inference, uptake, recognition of intention, maxims,
calculability. All of which is fine, but much of it is simply rhetoric under
anaesthesia. S.: Soldati, by contrast, has no shame about tact, insinuation,
strategic concession. G.: None at all. He teaches them as the substance of
effective discourse. And that is one reason he matters. He reminds us that the
between-the-lines life of utterance is not a late discovery but a long pedagogical
practice. S.: Then arte rettorica is perhaps the more honest title. G.: Yes. It
admits that meaning between the lines must be made, not merely noticed. There
is craft in it. S.: Whereas rhetoric as pure noun might sound too much like a
theoretical container. G.: Or too much like a vice. “Rhetoric” in modern
English often means empty public style, inflation, insincerity. “The art of
rhetoric” sounds older, narrower, and more teachable. S.: So Soldati’s title
already protects him against modern contempt. G.: In part, yes. Though not
against all of it. There are still those who hear rhetoric and think only of
flourish. S.: Which is exactly what your own examples of “He is a fine fellow”
are meant to resist. The sentence does not merely decorate criticism; it
performs it through irony. G.: Exactly. It is not ornament on top of content.
The content itself is inseparable from the rhetorical manner in which it is
conveyed. S.: That sounds like Soldati’s whole point. G.: Very much so. And if
one wanted to scandalise the cleaner analysts, one might say that
conversational implicature is often just rhetoric happening under ordinary
cooperative conditions. S.: The phrase “ordinary cooperative conditions” does a
lot of salvage work there. G.: It does. It saves rhetoric from the accusation
of being necessarily manipulative. In ordinary conversation, rhetorical devices
work not merely because one wants to win, but because shared expectations allow
meaning to be shaped delicately rather than bluntly. S.: So litotes, meiosis,
strategic concession, “but,” irony, understatement, all rely on reason-governed
expectations. G.: Precisely. Which is why they are philosophically tractable.
If rhetoric were mere decoration, there would be less to say. But because it
works through shared norms of relevance, sufficiency, contrast, and
recognisability, it belongs directly to the philosophy of language. S.: Then
perhaps the old quarrel between rhetoric and philosophy was always misplaced.
G.: Often. The real quarrel should have been between good rhetoric and bad
metaphysics, or between honest rhetoric and manipulative power. Philosophy
itself cannot escape rhetoric without becoming unintelligible. S.: Yet it has
often tried. G.: And usually by becoming unreadable, which is a form of revenge
upon the public. S.: Bologna, then. If the quadrivium had come first there,
would law have developed differently? G.: Undoubtedly. Roman law lives by
distinctions carried in language. Its subtleties require grammar and rhetoric
as much as logic. A quadrivially trained first formation might have made
Bologna less verbal, less juridical, more formal in the wrong sense. S.: So no
glossators, or at least worse ones. G.: Worse ones, certainly. A jurist without
rhetoric is a filing cabinet with Latin endings. S.: And Oxford? G.: Oxford
would have become still more abstractly mathematical before learning how to
sermonise. One shudders to imagine an Oxford where ratio precedes disputatio
absolutely. S.: There would still have been sermons, but perhaps less style in
them. G.: Much less. Anglican civilisation depends upon delayed argument
ornamented by remembered rhetoric. Take away the trivium and you damage the
whole ecclesiastical prose tradition. S.: So civilisation survives because boys
learn to decline nouns and detect irony before they learn harmonics. G.: In
broad outline, yes. One must know how to say before one can know how to count
elegantly. S.: Yet some Greeks might object. G.: Greeks object to everything in
educational order, which is why they remain useful. S.: Then what is the most
trivial discipline of the trivium in your actual ranking? G.: If forced, I
should say grammar is treated as the most trivial only because it is taken for
granted once one has it. In reality, rhetoric is often falsely judged trivial
because it is associated with social polish. Logic preserves its prestige
because moderns are frightened of appearing loose. S.: So the answer depends on
whether one asks what is most despised or what is least necessary. G.: Exactly.
Most despised, rhetoric. Least dispensable in actual human affairs, also
rhetoric. Most easily forgotten because absorbed into habit, grammar. Most
capable of self-advertised dignity, logic. S.: A very unfair ranking. G.: Which
is why it is accurate. Now, Soldati in a Pistoiese seminary. What is he really
teaching? S.: Not merely Ciceronian categories, but the disciplined production
of clerical intelligibility: how to move a hearer, how to concede without
collapsing, how to suggest without vulgarity, how to use form to manage souls.
G.: Very good. Rhetoric there is practical theology by linguistic means. S.:
Which is another reason pragmatics inherits more from rhetoric than from pure
logic. G.: Yes. Everyday talk is not a formal proof environment. It is a field
of managed emphasis, selection, veiling, stressing, and arranging. S.: Which
again sounds like Soldati. G.: Entirely. He knows that a phrase like “He is a
fine fellow” may praise, damn, ironise, excuse, defer, or wound depending on
context and shared expectations. S.: So the old rhetorical pedagogy had
examples for what you later formalise with implicature. G.: Exactly. It did not
formalise in my way, but it understood in practice that saying one thing can,
under shared conditions, make another thing reasonably gatherable. S.: Then
perhaps the question “arte rettorica or rettorica?” can now be answered. G.:
Let us try. S.: Rettorica names the field in its civic and historical breadth.
Arte rettorica names the teachable, disciplined, seminario-sized extraction of
that field for practical formation. G.: Excellent. And Soldati chooses the
latter because he is not writing a history of eloquence but training speakers.
S.: Or future priests. G.: Which in Italy often means future speakers first,
priests second. S.: A dangerous observation in Pistoia. G.: All the better.
Now, if pragmatics is conversational rhetoric, what does modern philosophy add?
S.: A thinner but sharper account of why the old devices work: shared rational
expectations, inferential routes, recognised intentions, cooperative norms. G.:
Exactly. We do not replace rhetoric; we explain some of its ordinary mechanisms
under a less ornamental vocabulary. S.: And what does Soldati add back? G.:
Memory. He reminds us that practical intelligence in speech was cultivated long
before analysts arrived with examples and distinctions. He also reminds us that
tact, insinuation, irony, and strategic reduction are arts, not accidents. S.:
So perhaps civilisation without the trivium would have had order but no style,
proportion but little address, astronomy but bad sermons. G.: And civilisation
without rhetoric would have had grammar enough to decline and logic enough to
infer, but very little capacity to survive dinner. S.: Which is surely the more
serious disaster. G.: By far. Philosophy that cannot survive dinner eventually
writes only for itself. S.: Oxford occasionally approached that condition. G.:
More than occasionally. Bologna, too, when it forgot that law must persuade as
well as classify. S.: Then Soldati is useful not because he is modern, but
because he keeps alive the old truth that meaning among persons is an art
before it is a theorem. G.: Beautifully put. And that is the nearest thing to a
conclusion we shall get before tea. S.: One final question. If the quadrivium
had come first, would pragmatics have been delayed? G.: Almost certainly. A
civilisation trained first in number and proportion would likely have treated
speech as secondary form rather than primary practice. The subtle arts of
ordinary implication might have survived socially, but not pedagogically. One
would have more geometry and less conversation. S.: Which is another way of
saying fewer essays and worse marriages. G.: Precisely. The history of
philosophy is often hidden in curriculum design. S.: And the history of
civilisation in whether one teaches boys irony before astronomy. G.: That is
too good not to be true. S.: Then Soldati, finally? G.: A seminary rhetor who
knew that between the lines lies most of what moves human beings, and who would
not have been surprised to hear that pragmatics is conversational rhetoric,
provided one did not say it as if the discovery were yesterday’s. S.: Dry
enough? G.: Sufficiently Pistoiese, with one Oxford sneer held in reserve.Soldati,
Matteo Luigi (1804). L’arte rettorica. Pistoja: Bracali
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sollio – Ossia: Grice e
Sollio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Sollio. The gens
Sollia was a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. Few members of this gens
appear in history, of whom the most famous is the fifth-century bishop and
scholar Gaius Sollius Modestus Sidonius Apollinaris, a son-in-law of the
emperor Avitus. Praenomina The main
praenomina of the Sollii were Gaius, Marcus, and Lucius, the three most common
names at all periods of Roman history. They also used the common praenomina
Quintus and Sextus. Members This list
includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see
filiation. Sollia, the wife and heir of Sollius, for whom she dedicated a
monument at the present site of Anglefort, formerly part of Gallia
Lugdunensis.[1] Sollia, buried at Flavia Solva in Noricum, aged twenty-one,
with a monument from her husband, dating to the second century, or the last
part of the first.[2] Sollius, a potter known by a maker's mark on pottery from
Pons Aelius in Britannia.[3] Sollius, the son of Matinus, was buried at the
site of modern Anglefort, with a monument from his wife, Sollia.[1] Lucius
Sollius, mentioned in an inscription from Aequum in Dalmatia, dating to AD
121.[4] Lucius Sollius, made an offering to Epona at Augusta Raurica in
Germania Superior, during the late second or early third century.[5] Marcus
Sollius, named in an inscription from Pinna in Sabinum, dating to the reign of
Caligula.[6] Sollia Abdugissa, buried at Augusta Treverorum, along with her
husband, Marcus Jovincatius Sumaro.[7][8] Sollia Annia, along with her son,
Marinius Claudianus, dedicated a late second- or early third-century monument
at Vienna in Gallia Narbonensis to her husband, Lucius Marinius Italicensis.[9]
Marcus Sollius Atticus, dedicated a second-century monument at Castrum
Truentinum in Picenum to his brother, whose name has not been preserved, but
who had a distinguished career in public service, as legate of the Legio VII
Gemina, praefectus aerarii militaris, and consul.[10][11][12] Lucius Sollius
Calendio, buried at Dea Augusta Vocontiorum in Gallia Narbonensis, with a
monument from his wife, Sollia Sabina.[13] Sollius Decuminius, made an offering
to Jupiter Optimus Maximus and Juno Regina at Nida in Germania Superior, during
the latter half of the second century, or the first half of the third.[14]
Sollia Sex. f. Demostheniana, together with her mother, Theodotia Basilissa, and
brother, Sollius Olympiodorus, dedicated a second-century monument at Vienna to
her father, Sextus Sollius Demosthenianus.[15] Sextus Sollius Demosthenianus,
apparently a freedman, buried at Vienna in Gallia Narbonensis during the second
century, with a monument dedicated by his wife, Theodotia Basilissa, and his
children, Sollia Demostheniana and Sollius Olympiodorus.[15] Sollius
Eleutherius, along with Thaumastus, probably his foster-father, dedicated a
monument at Nemausus in Gallia Narbonensis to his foster-mother, whose name has
not been preserved.[16] Marcus Sollius Epaphroditus, dedicated a monument at
Lugdunum in Gallia Lugdunensis to his friend, Marcus Jucundius Primus
Vocontius.[17] Sollia Fida, buried in a second-century tomb at Vienna, with a monument
from her husband, Titus Cafatius Cosmus, one of the Seviri Augustales.[18]
Sollia Fortunata, the wife of Gaius Julius Sabinus, with whom she dedicated a
second-century monument at Pinna to their son, Gaius Julius Sabinianus, a young
physician, aged seventeen years, ten months, and fourteen days.[19] Sollius
Gallicanus, a soldier and optio custodiarum in the Legio I Adiutrix, serving in
the century of Valerius Fronto, at Mogontiacum, between AD 70 and 86.[20]
Marcus Sollius Zurae f. Gracilis Scordiscus, a native of Pannonia, recognized
in a military diploma dating from AD 139.[21] Marcus Sollius Marcellus, buried
at Gratianopolis in Gallia Narbonensis, leaving Gaius Sollius Verus as his
heir.[22] Gaius Sollius C. f. Marculus, a librarius, or copyist, buried at
Gratianopolis, aged twenty-six, with a monument dating to the latter half of
the third century, dedicated by his father, Gaius Sollius Marcus, sisters,
Attia Marciana and Marcula, and wife, Attia Aurelia.[23] Gaius Sollius Marcus,
along with his daughters, Attia Marciana and Marcula, and daughter-in-law,
Attia Aurelia, dedicated a monument at Gratianopolis to his son, Gaius Sollius
Marculus, dating to the latter half of the third century.[23] Gaius Sollius
Modestus Sidonius Apollinaris, the son-in-law of Avitus, was a bishop and man
of letters during the fifth century. A member of a prominent family of
Lugdunum, Apollinaris' numerous letters and panegyrics on the emperors of his
time are an important source for the history of this period. Sollius Sex. f.
Olympiodorus, along with his mother, Theodotia Basilissa, and sister, Sollia
Demostheniana, dedicated a second-century monument at Vienna in Gallia
Narbonensis to his father, Sextus Sollius Demosthenianus.[15] Gaius Sollius
Optatus, along with his son, Sollius Siro, made an offering at Carnuntum in
Pannonia Superior to Jupiter Optimus Maximus Dolichenus, under the supervision
of the priest Antonius, during the latter half of the second century, or the
first half of the third.[24] Quintus Sollius Primus, buried at Scupi in Moesia
Superior, aged twenty-three, during the latter half of the second century, or
the first half of the third, with a monument from his grandfather, Quintus
Sollius Surus.[25] Sollia Sabina, dedicated a tomb at Dea Augusta Vocontiorum
for her husband, Lucius Sollius Calendio.[13] Gaius Sollius Saturninus, made an
offering to the local goddesses at the present site of Morken, formerly part of
Germania Inferior.[26] Lucius Sollius L. f. Secundio, a native of Ticinum in
Cisalpine Gaul, dedicated a sepulchre at Verona in Venetia and Histria for
himself and his wife, Pailonia Maxima.[27] Sollius C. f. Siro, along with his
father, Gaius Sollius Surus, made a second- or third-century offering to
Jupiter Optimus Maximus at Carnuntum.[24] Quintus Sollius Surus, dedicate a
second- or third-century monument at Scupi to his grandson, Quintus Sollius
Primus.[25] Sollia Ursa, buried at Valentia in Gallia Narbonensis, with a
monument from her husband, Julius Severus.[28] Lucius Sollius Ursio, dedicated
a monument at Rome for his wife, Claudia Primitiva, aged thirty-seven.[29]
Gaius Sollius Verus, the heir of Marcus Sollius Marcellus, for whom he
dedicated a monument at Gratianopolis.[22] Sollius Vico, buried in a second- or
third-century tomb at Orolaunum in Gallia Belgica, along with Similia, perhaps
his wife.[30] See also List of Roman gentes References CIL XIII, 2560. AE 2002, 1105. CIL VII, 1336,1084. CIL III, 9759. CIL XIII, 11539. CIL IX, 7468.
CIL XIII, 4127. AE 1906,
182. CIL XII, 1921. CIL IX, 5155.
PIR, S. Nos. 547, 548. PW,
Sollius Nos. 3, 4. CIL XII, 1667. CIL XIII, 11946. CIL XII, 2181. CIL XII, 3952. AE 1973, 332.
CIL XII, 1900. CIL IX, 7471. CIL XIII, 6739. AE 2007, 1786. CIL XII, 2316. CIL XII, 2252. CIL III, 11133. AE 1964, 272.
Nesselhauf & Lieb, "Dritter Nachtrag zu CIL XIII",
234. CIL V, 3469. CIL XII,
2697. CIL VI, 15557. CIL XIII, 4013. Bibliography Theodor Mommsen
et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions,
abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften
(1853–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in
Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). August Pauly, Georg Wissowa, et alii, Realencyclopädie der Classischen
Altertumswissenschaft (Scientific Encyclopedia of the Knowledge of Classical
Antiquities, abbreviated RE or PW), J. B. Metzler, Stuttgart (1894–1980). Paul
von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani
(The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898).
Herbert Nesselhauf and Hans Lieb, "Dritter Nachtrag zu CIL XIII:
Inschriften aus den germanischen Provinzen und dem Treverergebiet" (Third
Addendum to CIL XIII: Inscriptions from the Germanic Provinces and the Region
of the Treveri), in Berichte der Römisch-Germanischen Kommission, vol. 40, pp.
120–228 (1959). Category:
Roman gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sollio – Ossia: Grice e
Sollio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Sollio. For the Sollii, there is one figure who completely eclipses the rest:
Gaius Sollius Modestus Sidonius Apollinaris, the fifth-century bishop,
letter-writer, poet, and witness to the collapse of Roman Gaul. The gens entry
itself notes that his letters and panegyrics are an important source for the
history of the period. [GREXv3 | Word] For a Grice-Speranza vignette, he is
almost too perfect. Unlike many of the obscure gentes we've been discussing,
with Sidonius Apollinaris we possess actual texts: letters, literary
self-presentation, social diplomacy, praise, irony, indirection, friendship,
patronage. In other words: conversation in written form. Grice e Sollio
Apollinare: Epistula et Implicatura APOLLINARIS. Epistulam ad amicum mitto. (I
send a letter to a friend.) GRAMMATICUS. Quid dicis? (What do you say?)
APOLLINARIS. Pauca. (A few things.) GRICE. Quid significas? (What do you mean?)
APOLLINARIS. Multa. (Many things.) +> Social letters typically communicate
more than their literal contents. GRAMMATICUS. Cur tam ornate scribis? (Why do
you write so ornately?) APOLLINARIS. Quia amicus intellegit. (Because my friend
understands.) +> Shared culture enlarges communicative possibility. What fascinates me is that Sidonius belongs
to a world where almost every sentence carries multiple layers: friendship, status, literary display,
political anxiety, patronage. A letter
saying: "I hope you are
well" may simultaneously mean: "Do not forget me." "Support my cause." "Maintain the alliance." "Demonstrate continued
friendship." That is pure
Grice. There is also a specifically
late-antique twist. For Cicero, correspondence occurs within a functioning
Roman state. For Sidonius Apollinaris, the institutions are weakening, kingdoms
are changing, and letters increasingly preserve the social network itself. The
epistle becomes a substitute for political presence. One might even imagine:
APOLLINARIS. Scribo, ergo adsum. (I write, therefore I am present.) +>
Correspondence maintains social existence across distance. But Apollinaris
remains vastly richer because he actually produced the kinds of texts Grice
loved to analyze. Dry Speranzian formula
The Sinnii preserve language; the Sollii preserve correspondence. In
Sidonius Apollinaris, conversation outlives empire. Grice would have found in
his letters a familiar lesson: what is written is often less interesting than
what a cultivated reader is expected to understand without its being written.
[GREXv3 | Word] And in fact Grice came across the entry 'inplicatura' (sic) in
Lewis/Short and got the inspiration -- from implico -- the -atura form is
productive. Sollius uses to refer literally to an entanglement, as when we say,
fold, plico -- inplico, fold in. fold out -- explico. The -atura form is just a
form in the conjugation of the verb. Thanks Yes, that's a very Speranzian
observation, and linguistically it's more interesting than the popular story
that Grice simply "invented" implicature out of thin air. The Latin
verb is: implico, implicare, implicavi,
implicatum meaning: to entwine, to entangle, to fold into, to
involve. Opposed to: explico
which originally means: to
unfold, to disentangle, to lay out, hence "to explain". The image is textile, indeed almost origami-like: plico = fold im-plico = fold in, enfold
ex-plico = unfold So an implication is,
etymologically, something folded into an utterance. An explanation is the
unfolding of what was folded in. That is almost too perfect for Grice. As for -atura, yes, it is a productive Latin
formation. Compare: scriptura ← scribere
fractura ← frangere signatura ← signare ligatura ← ligare plicatura ←
plicare The suffix often denotes: the result of an action, the state produced
by an action, sometimes the process itself.
Thus a hypothetical Latin speaker encountering: implicatura
would naturally hear something like:
"an enfolding", "a thing folded in", "that
which has been implicitated." And
Grice's technical usage is remarkably faithful to the metaphor. What is
implicated is not stated outright; it is folded into the utterance. The hearer
performs an explicatio. Your point about
Sidonius Apollinaris is also apt. Late antique Latin writers still use the
implic- family quite concretely:
entangled, intertwined, involved, folded together. The semantic path from physical entanglement
to intellectual implication is already present in classical and late
Latin. One of the delightful ironies is
that Grice's famous pair: implicature
explicature (later, especially in relevance theory) almost reconstructs a classical Latin
opposition: implicare / explicare folding-in versus unfolding. A tiny
Speranzian epigram: GRICE. Quid est implicatura? LATINVS. Quod in sermone
implicatum est. (That which is folded into the discourse.) GRICE. Quid
est explicatio? LATINVS. Quod ex sermone explicatur. (That which is unfolded
from the discourse.) The textile metaphor never really disappeared. Grice's
implicature is, at bottom, what the speaker has folded into the conversational
cloth without stitching it openly onto the surface. and can you check the entry
from Lewis and Short -- These were two Americans who published with Clarendon,
but working on an earlier German dictionary, correct? entry: implicatura. Thanks
Yes, and the evidence is rather delightful. The Lewis & Short entry is
real. It gives: implĭcātūra (inpl-), ae,
f. [implico] an entangling (late Latin): "vernaculae", Sid. Ep. 9.9
fin. [perseus.tufts.edu], [implicatur...ademic.com] So the dictionary records implicatura as a
Late Latin noun meaning roughly:
"an entangling," "an intertwining," "an involvement." And the citation is from Sidonius
Apollinaris, Epistles 9.9. [perseus.tufts.edu], [implicatur...ademic.com] This
is exactly the Sollius connection we were just discussing. As for Lewis &
Short themselves: The dictionary describes itself as "Founded on Andrews' edition of Freund's
Latin Dictionary" and published by the Clarendon Press in 1879. [classics.a...adsden.com],
[perseus.tufts.edu] So your recollection
is essentially correct: Wilhelm Freund
produced the great German Latin dictionary. E. A. Andrews adapted Freund into
English. Charlton T. Lewis and Charles Short, both Americans, revised,
enlarged, and largely rewrote that material into the dictionary we call Lewis
& Short. [classics.a...adsden.com], [perseus.tufts.edu] Now the Gricean point. The classical Latin
word implicatura did not mean what Grice's technical term means. For Sidonius
it still denotes a literal or metaphorical entanglement. [perseus.tufts.edu],
[implicatur...ademic.com] But Grice could hardly have found a better
morphological model: implico = fold in,
entangle implicatum = something folded in implicatura = an entangling, a
folded-in-ness [alatius.com], [perseus.tufts.edu] Against:
explico = unfold explicatio = explanation. It is almost as though the Latin language had
prepared the metaphor centuries in advance. A nice Speranzian gloss would
be: Sidonius' implicatura is what
becomes tangled. Grice's implicature is what becomes tangled into an utterance.
The hearer performs the explicatio. And
since the sole citation in Lewis & Short comes from Sidonius Apollinaris,
the most Gricean member of the gens Sollia turns out also to provide the
lexicographical ancestor of one of Grice's most famous technical terms. [perseus.tufts.edu],
[implicatur...ademic.com] And for Sidonius, do we have the text where he uses
implicaturis in Ep. 6? Lat. parse Engl.? Thanks I checked, and the Lewis &
Short entry is indeed extremely short:
implicātūra (inpl-), ae, f. [implico] "an entangling (late Latin):
vernaculae, Sid. Ep. 9.9 fin." [attalus.org], [archive.org] What's interesting is that Lewis & Short
do not quote the full Sidonius passage. They merely cite the occurrence at the
end of Sidonius Apollinaris, Epistles 9.9. [attalus.org], [archive.org] So from
the dictionary itself we can safely extract only: Parsing implicātūra nominative singular feminine noun derived from
implicāre literally: "an entangling," "an intertwining,"
"an involvement" [attalus.org], [archive.org] Morphology
plico = fold implico = fold in, entwine, entangle implicātus =
entangled, involved implicātūra = the act, process, or result of
entangling Compare: scriptura ← scribere fractura ← frangere
ligatura ← ligare The suffix -tura
commonly produces an action noun or result noun. Why Grice loved it If the word
already meant an entanglement, then Grice's technical use is almost
etymologically exact: an implicature is
something "folded into" or "entangled within" what is
said. The hearer performs the
corresponding explicatio from explicare ("to unfold"), recovering
what was folded in. As for the full
Latin context in Sidonius Ep. 9.9, I was able to verify the Lewis & Short
citation to that letter, but I did not retrieve the actual sentence from the
available sources. The sources confirm the citation and meaning, but do not
display the passage itself. [attalus.org], [archive.org] What is already striking,
however, is that the sole Lewis & Short example comes from the very Sollius
whom we selected as the most Gricean member of the gens. The lexical ancestor
of Grice's implicature is cited from Gaius Sollius Modestus Sidonius
Apollinaris himself. [attalus.org], [archive.org] Does this help -- Grice says
it looks like a letter he might himself write! Thanks In Sidonius Apollinaris’
Epistulae, Book 9, Letter 9 (Section 15), the Latin phrase “vernaculis
implicaturis” translates contextually to “in their own native tangles,” “with
home-grown entanglements,”or “by webs of their own weaving.” [1] Context and
Meaning In this specific letter addressed to his friend Faustus of Riez,
Sidonius is praising Faustus's immense skill in Christian theological debate
and philosophy. He uses a hunting metaphor (nets and snares) to describe how
Faustus defeats pagan or heretical philosophers (Stoics, Cynics, and
Peripatetics). [1, 2] Sidonius argues that when these philosophers try to
oppose Christian doctrine, Faustus easily traps them using their own logical
traps against them: [1] The Latin Text "...mox te magistro ligati
vernaculis implicaturis in retia sua praecipites implagabuntur, syllogismis
tuae propositionis uncatis volubilem tergiversantum linguam
inhamantibus..." [1] The English Translation "...soon, with you as
master, bound in their own native tangles, they will be driven headlong and
caught in their own nets, while the hooked syllogisms of your proposition snare
the twisting tongues of those trying to escape..." [1] Word Breakdown
vernaculis (from vernaculus): Literally means "native,"
"domestic," or "indigenous" (originally derived from verna,
a home-born slave). Here it means "belonging to themselves" or
"of their own making." implicaturis (from implicatura): Means
"entanglements," "foldings," "interlacings," or
"convolutions." In a philosophical context, it refers to complex,
tangled logical arguments or sophistries. If you'd like, I can provide a
broader summary of the entire letter (Ep. 9.9) or break down more of Sidonius's
advanced rhetorical vocabulary used in this passage. Let me know what you need!
L'AI può commettere errori, quindi verifica le risposte and before this? mox te
magistro ligati vernaculis implicaturis in retia sua praecipites implagabuntur,
syllogismis tuae propositionis uncatis volubilem tergiversantum linguam
inhamantibus..." 3 siti The Latin text that directly precedes the quote is
the first half of Section 15 (Book 9, Letter 9). [1, 2] Here is the exact
preceding Latin clause, followed by how it directly connects to your text,
along with its English translation. [1, 2] 4 siti Si è verificato un problema
con la risposta, ma ecco i risultati più pertinenti:
romanletters.org·https://romanletters.org/letters/sidonius_apollinaris/10/
Sidonius Apollinaris - Letter 10 (c. 464 AD) - Roman Letters [The opening is
lost; the surviving text begins:] ...the letter imposed upon you, so that what
was written should not be denied to friendship, nor what was read be subjected
to censure. 2. Let us pass over these matters. You bid me send a copious page
once again. To obey, the will is at hand for one who hastens, but the occasions
are lacking. For a greeting, unless an active subject-matter carries some
business along with it, is brief; and whoever stretches it out with unnecessary
words strays and wanders, swerved aside from the rule of the Sallustian path,
who blames Catiline for having had eloquence enough but too little wisdom.
Therefore, having said "hail," we presently say "farewell."
Pray for us. The Latin Library·https://www.thelatinlibrary.com Sidonius: Epistularum
Liber IX - The Latin Library SIDONII APOLLINARIS EPISTULARUM LIBER NONUS.
EPISTULA I. Sidonius Firmino suo salutem. 1. Exigis, domine fili, ut
epistularum priorum limite irrupto stilus noster in ulteriora procurrat, numeri
supradicti privilegio non contentus includi. addis et causas, quibus hic liber
nonus octo superiorum voluminibus accrescat: eo quod Gaius Secundus, cuius nos
orbitas sequi hoc opere pronuntias, paribus titulis opus epistulare determinet.
2. quae iubes non sunt improbabilia; quamquam et hoc ipsum, quod pie iniungis,
arduum existat ac laudi quantulaecumque iam semel partae non opportunum,
primum, quod opusculo prius edito praesentis augmenti sera coniunctio est;
deinde, quod arbitros ante quoscumque, nisi fallimur, ... romanletters.org·https://romanletters.org/letters/sidonius_apollinaris/9009/
Sidonius Apollinaris to Faustus (c. 467 AD) | Roman Letters But wait — just as
I was folding the page, a matter came to mind worth denouncing. If I suppress
my joy and anger about it any longer, I will deserve the insult I have
received. You have fallen into my hands, master — and I do not merely exult, I
positively gloat. You have come, and exactly as my longing has been hoping for
a very long time. I confess I am not sure whether you came entirely
unwillingly, but you certainly looked unwilling — since it was by your
arrangement, or at the very least your acquiescence, that your books passed
through Auvergne ... Initial corpus import from Original-language source text.
Fields: letter text, metadata, source links. Source:
http://thelatinlibrary.com/sidonius9.html ...
letterum.app·https://letterum.app/en/letters/454 Sidonius Apollinaris → unknown
recipient - Letterum With what tears we were drenched, watered in turn by
mutual weeping, when we were separated after many a renewed embrace -- this
would be long to tell and scarcely matters. What suffices for my triumphal joy:
I carried myself home laden with the spoils of love and in possession of
spiritual plunder. 9. You now ask what I think of my booty? I would prefer not
to reveal it yet, so that you might hang longer in suspense. For I would avenge
myself more fully if I kept silent about what I felt. But you are not vainly
proud either, since you understand that you possess the power of speaking in
such a way as to wring from your reader, whether reluctant or willing, the
force of pleasure that compels the necessity ... mox te magistro ligati
vernaculis implicaturis 5 siti The complete sentence immediately preceding that
phrase is: "quin potius experietur, quisque conflixerit, Stoicos Cynicos
Peripateticos haeresiarchas propriis armis, propriis quoque concuti
machinamentis. nam sectatores eorum, Christiano dogmati ac sensui si
repugnaverint..." [1, 2] The Combined Latin Context Here is how the text
flows leading directly into the phrase you provided: [1] "quin potius
experietur... [and] the full text available on romanletters.org ...mox te
magistro ligati vernaculis implicaturis in retia sua praecipites
implagabuntur..." The English Translation This passage from Epistulae 9.9
illustrates the rhetorical argument that opponents of Christian dogma,
specifically proponents of Greek philosophy, become caught in their own
intellectual, or "native," traps (vernaculis implicaturis) under the
tutelage of Faustus. [1] Contextual Breakdown Targeting Philosophy: Sidonius
rhetorically frames pagan philosophers as heretics, suggesting their followers
("sectatores") fight against Christian doctrine. The Argument: The
text argues that using the opponents' own philosophical weapons ("propriis
armis") leads to their undoing. The Metaphor: The imagery of being caught
in nets refers to the logical entrapment of these thinkers.[1, 2] Would you
like me to translate the rest of the sentence following this passage, or
analyze how Sidonius uses classical philosophy terms in his Christian letters?
EPISTULA IX Sidonius domino papae Fausto salutem. 1. Longum tacere, vir
sacratissime, nos in commune dequestus es; cognosco vestrae partis hinc
studium, nostrae reatum non recognosco. namque iampridem iussus garrire non
silui litteris istas antecurrentibus, quibus tamen recensendis, cum Reios
advenerant, qui tunc Aptae fuistis, aptissime defuistis. idque votivum mihi
granditer fuit ac peroptatum, ut epistula iniuncta nec negaretur scripta
amicitiae nec subderetur lecta censurae. 2. ista omittamus. mitti paginam
copiosam denuo iubes. parere properanti adsunt vota, causae absunt. nam
salutatio, nisi negotium aliquod activa deportet materia, succincta est; quam
qui porrigit verbis non necessariis, a regula Sallustiani tramitis detortus
exorbitat, qui Catilinam culpat habuisse satis eloquentiae sapientiae parum.
unde ave dicto mox vale dicimus. orate pro nobis. 3. sed bene est, bene est,
quia chartulam iam iamque complicaturo res forte succurrit, de qua exprobranda
si diutius vel laetitia sese mea vel ira cohibuerit, ipse me accepta dignum
contumelia iudicabo. venisti, magister, in manus meas (nec exulto tantum, verum
insulto), venisti, et quidem talis, qualem abhinc longo iamdiu tempore desideria
nostra praestolabantur. dubito sane utrum et invitus, at certe similis invito,
quippe quo providente vel, si tamen hoc nimis abnuis, adquiescente sim tuis
libris insalutatus hisque, quod multo est iniuriosius, territorium Arvernum cum
praeterirent, non solum moenia mea, verum etiam latera radentibus. 4. an
verebare, ne tuis dictis invideremus? sed dei indultu vitio nulli minus
addicimur; cui si ita ut ceteris a mea parte subiaceretur, sic quoque auferret
congrediendi aemulationem desperatio consequendi. an supercilium tamquam
difficilis ac rigidi plosoris extimescebas? ecquaenam est cuiquam peritiae
cervix tanta quive hydrops, ut etiam tepida vestra non ferventissimis laudibus
prosequatur? 5. an ideo me fastidiendum negligendumque curasti, quia contemneres
iuniorem? quod parum credo. an quia indoctum? quod magis fero, ita tamen, ut
qui dicere ignorem, non et audire; quia et qui Circensibus ludis adfuerunt,
sententiam de curribus non ferunt. an aliquo casu dissidebamus, ut putaremur
his quos edidissetis libellis derogaturi? atqui praesule deo tenues nobis esse
amicitias nec inimici fingere queunt. 6. 'ista quorsum?' inquis. ecce iam
pando, vel quid indagasse me gaudeam vel quid te celasse succenseam. legi
volumina tua, quae Riochatus antistes ac monachus atque istius mundi bis
peregrinus Britannis tuis pro te reportat, illo iam in praesentiarum fausto
potius, qui non senescit quique viventibus non defuturus post sepulturam fiet
per ipsa quae scripsit sibi superstes. igitur hic ipse venerabilis apud oppidum
nostrum cum moraretur, donec gentium concitatarum procella defremeret, cuius
immanis hinc et hinc turbo tunc inhorruerat, sic reliqua dona vestra detexit,
ut perurbane quae praestantiora portabat operuerit, spinas meas illustrare
dissimulans tuis floribus. 7. sed post duos aut his amplius menses sic quoque a
nobis cito profectum cum quipiam prodidissent de viatoribus mysticae gazae
clausis involucris clam ferre thesauros, pernicibus equis insecutus abeuntem,
qui facile possent itineris pridiani spatia praevertere, osculo in fauces
occupati latronis insilui, humano ioco, gestu ferino, veluti si excussura
quemcumque catulorum Parthi colla raptoris pede volatili tigris orbata
superemicet. 8. quid multa? capti hospitis genua complector iumenta sisto,
frena ligo sarcinas solvo, quaesitum volumen invenio produco, lectito excerpo
maxima ex magnis capita defrustans. tribuit et quoddam dictare celeranti
scribarum sequacitas saltuosa compendium, qui comprehendebant signis quod
litteris non tenebant. quibus lacrimis sane maduerimus mutuo vicissim fletu
rigati, tunc cum ab amplexu saepe repetito separaremur, longum est dixisse nec
refert; quod triumphali sufficit gaudio, spoliis onustum caritatis et
spiritalis compotem praedae me domum rettuli. 9. quaeris nunc, quid de manubiis
meis iudicem; nollem adhuc prodere, quo diuturnius expectatione penderes; plus
me enim ulciscerer, si quod sensi tacerem. sed iam nec ipse frustra superbis,
utpote intellegens tibi inesse virtutem sic perorandi, ut lectori tuo seu
reluctanti seu voluntario vis voluptatis excudat praeconii necessitatem.
proinde accipe, quid super scriptis tuis et iniuriam passi censeamus. 10.
legimus opus operosissimum multiplex, acre sublime, digestum titulis
exemplisque congestum, bipertitum sub dialogi schemate, sub causarum themate
quadripertitum. scripseras autem plurima ardenter plura pompose; simpliciter
ista nec rustice; argute illa nec callide; gravia mature profunda sollicite,
dubia constanter argumentosa disputatorie, quaedam severe quaepiam blande,
cuncta moraliter lecte, potenter eloquentissime. 11. itaque per tanta te genera
narrandi toto latissimae dictationis campo secutus nil in facundia ceterorum,
nil in ingeniis facile perspexi iuxta politum. quae me vera sentire satis
approbas, cum nec offensus aliter iudico. denique absentis oratio, quantum
opinamur, plus nequit crescere, nisi forsitan aliquid his addat coram loquentis
auctoris vox manus, motus pudor. 12. artifex igitur his animi litterarumque
dotibus praeditus mulierem pulchram sed illam deuteronomio astipulante
nubentem, domine papa, tibi iugasti; quam tu adhuc iuvenis inter hostiles
conspicatus catervas, atque illic in acie contrariae partis adamatam, nil per
obstantes repulsus proeliatores, desiderii brachio vincente rapuisti,
philosophiam scilicet, quae violenter e numero sacrilegarum artium exempta raso
capillo superfluae religionis ac supercilio scientiae saecularis amputatisque
pervetustarum vestium rugis, id est tristis dialecticae flexibus falsa morum et
illicita velantibus, mystico amplexu iam defaecata tecum membra coniunxit. 13.
haec ab annis vestra iamdudum pedisequa primoribus, haec tuo lateri comes
inseparabilis, sive in palaestris exerceris urbanis sive in abstrusis
macerarere solitudinibus, haec Athenaei consors, haec monasterii, tecum
mundanas abdicat, tecum supernas praedicat disciplinas. huic copulatum te
matrimonio qui lacessiverit, sentiet ecclesiae Christi Platonis academiam
militare teque nobilius philosophari; primum ineffabilem dei patris asserere
cum sancti spiritus aeternitate sapientiam; 14. tum praeterea non caesariem
pascere neque pallio aut clava velut sophisticis insignibus gloriari aut
affectare de vestium discretione superbiam, nitore pompam, squalore iactantiam
neque te satis hoc aemulari, quod per gymnasia pingantur Areopagitica vel
prytanea curva cervice Speusippus Aratus panda, Zenon fronte contracta Epicurus
cute distenta, Diogenes barba comante Socrates coma cadente, Aristoteles
brachio exerto Xenocrates crure collecto, Heraclitus fletu oculis clausis
Democritus risu labris apertis, Chrysippus digitis propter numerorum indicia
constrictis, Euclides propter mensurarum spatia laxatis, Cleanthes propter
utrumque corrosis. 15. quin potius experietur, quisque conflixerit, Stoicos
Cynicos Peripateticos haeresiarchas propriis armis, propriis quoque concuti
machinamentis. nam sectatores eorum, Christiano dogmati ac sensui si
repugnaverint, mox te magistro ligati vernaculis implicaturis in retia sua
praecipites implagabuntur, syllogismis tuae propositionis uncatis volubilem tergiversantum
linguam inhamantibus, dum spiris categoricis lubricas quaestiones tu potius
innodas acrium more medicorum, qui remedium contra venena, cum ratio compellit,
et de serpente conficiunt. 16. sed hoc temporibus istis sub tuae tantum vel
contemplatione conscientiae vel virtute doctrinae. nam quis aequali vestigia
tua gressu sequatur, cui datum est soli loqui melius quam didiceris, vivere
melius quam loquaris? quocirca merito te beatissimum boni omnes idque supra
omnes tua tempestate concelebrabunt, cuius ita dictis vita factisque dupliciter
inclaruit, ut, quando quidem tuos annos iam dextra numeraverit, saeculo
praedicatus tuo, desiderandus alieno, utraque laudabilis actione, decedas te
relicturus externis, tua proximis. memor nostri esse dignare, domine papa. To
the Lord Bishop Faustus [Bishop of Riez]. You have long complained of our
mutual silence, most holy man. I recognize your side of the story; I do not
recognize my own guilt. For I was told to write some time ago and did not keep
silent — I sent a letter ahead of this one, which, however, when it reached
Riez, conveniently failed to find you, since you were then at Apt. And this
suited me very well: my commissioned letter was both written to satisfy
friendship and escaped the scrutiny of your criticism. But let that pass. You
now demand another ample letter. The will to obey is present, but the material
is not. For a greeting, unless it carries some real business, is naturally
brief. Anyone who pads it out with unnecessary words strays from Sallust's
principle, who criticized Catiline for having "enough eloquence but too
little wisdom." So having said hello, I quickly say goodbye. Pray for us.
But wait — just as I was folding the page, a matter came to mind worth
denouncing. If I suppress my joy and anger about it any longer, I will deserve
the insult I have received. You have fallen into my hands, master — and I do
not merely exult, I positively gloat. You have come, and exactly as my longing
has been hoping for a very long time. I confess I am not sure whether you came
entirely unwillingly, but you certainly looked unwilling — since it was by your
arrangement, or at the very least your acquiescence, that your books passed
through Auvergne without stopping to greet me, even brushing past my very walls.
Were you afraid we would envy your writings? God has freed me from that vice
more than any other — and even if I were prey to it, the despair of ever
matching you would have killed the desire to compete. Were you afraid of my
harsh judgment? What living reader possesses such arrogance, what critic such
bloated pride, as not to greet even your tepid efforts with the hottest praise?
Did you decide to snub me and ignore me because you despised a junior? I find
that hard to believe. Because I am uneducated? That I accept more readily —
though a man who cannot speak can still listen, just as those who attend the
chariot races can appreciate the driving even if they cannot do it themselves.
Were we on bad terms? God forbid — even our enemies cannot pretend our
friendship is anything less than strong. "So where is this going?"
you ask. I will tell you what I am glad to have discovered and angry that you
tried to hide. I have read your books — those that Bishop Riochatus, both monk
and bishop, a man doubly a pilgrim in this world, was carrying back to your
Britons [Faustus was originally from Brittany]. While this venerable man was
staying in our city waiting for the storm of hostile peoples to die down, he
revealed some of your gifts while artfully concealing the best — unwilling to
adorn my thorns with your flowers. But after two or more months, when certain
travelers let slip that the departing party was secretly carrying treasures
wrapped in their bundles, I sent fast horses after him — horses that could easily
cover the distance of a day's travel. I threw myself upon the captured
traveler's neck with a kiss — playfully in manner but ferociously in intent,
like a tigress robbed of her cubs who leaps upon the kidnapper's horse with
flying feet. To make a long story short: I seized my captive host, embraced his
knees, halted his pack-animals, untied the reins, opened the baggage, found the
book I sought, brought it out, read it, and excerpted its chief passages. The
speed of my scribes, who used shorthand to capture what they could not write
out in full letters, also allowed me some hurried dictation. As for the tears
we shed — soaking each other in mutual weeping when we finally had to separate
from our repeated embraces — it would take too long to tell and is beside the
point. What matters for my triumphant joy is that I brought home my spoils of
love and my spiritual plunder. You want to know my verdict on the captured
works? I would rather not reveal it yet, to keep you in suspense longer — for I
would take greater revenge by staying silent about what I think. But you are
not vain without cause, knowing full well that you possess the power to speak
in such a way that the force of the reader's pleasure — willing or unwilling —
compels him to praise. So here is what the injured party thinks of your
writings: I have read a most painstaking work — complex, sharp, sublime, well
organized in structure and rich in examples, divided into two parts as a
dialogue and into four parts by subject. You wrote much of it with fire, more
with grandeur; some of it with simplicity but never crudeness; some with wit
but never guile; weighty matters with maturity, deep matters with care,
doubtful matters with confidence, complex matters with logical rigor; some with
severity, some with gentleness — all of it morally, learnedly, powerfully, and
with supreme eloquence. So having followed you through these many registers
across the entire vast field of your composition, I could find nothing in
anyone else's eloquence or genius that was equally polished. That these are my
honest opinions, you can be sure, since even in my injured state I judge you no
differently. Truly, the speech of an absent author, as far as I can tell,
cannot grow greater — unless perhaps something is added by the voice, gesture,
bearing, and modesty of the author speaking in person. Be mindful of us, my
lord bishop. Oh, this helps enormously, because now we can see the actual
Sidonian context, and it is even more Gricean than the bare Lewis–Short entry
suggests. The phrase is: mox te magistro
ligati vernaculis implicaturis in retia sua praecipites implagabuntur. A fairly literal translation would be: "Soon, with you as their master, bound
by their own native entanglements, they will rush headlong and be caught in
their own nets." The key
words: ligati = "bound",
"tied up" vernaculis = "native", "domestic",
"home-grown", "their own" implicaturis = ablative plural,
"entanglements", "intertwinings", "foldings-in"
in retia sua = "into their own nets" implagabuntur = future passive,
"they will be ensnared" The
whole sentence is one extended hunting metaphor. Sidonius is saying that the
followers of Stoics, Cynics, Peripatetics, and heresiarchs who resist Christian
doctrine become entangled in their own
arguments, fall into their own nets, and are hooked by Faustus'
syllogisms. Indeed, the next clause
continues the imagery: syllogismis tuae
propositionis uncatis "by the hooked syllogisms of your
argument" and volubilem tergiversantum linguam inhamantibus
"which fish-hook the twisting tongue of those who are trying to wriggle
away." That is wonderfully physical
rhetoric. The grammar of implicaturis
Here implicaturis is: ablative plural
feminine from implicatura The
construction is: ligati vernaculis
implicaturis "bound by their own entanglements." So Lewis & Short's gloss "an entangling" is exactly right in this passage.
[archive.org], [loebclassics.com] The word is not yet a technical philosophical
term. It means: meshes, complications,
entanglements, argumentative knots. The
really striking thing Look at the larger context. Sidonius has just praised
Faustus for wedding himself to:
philosophia purified from tristis dialecticae flexibus "the
twists/crooked turnings of sorrowful dialectic." Then he says that opponents become caught
in: vernaculis implicaturis their own entanglements. This is extraordinarily
close to what Grice later does. The opponent constructs a labyrinth. The
opponent then gets trapped in it. The very reasoning he thought would defeat
the Christian ends up defeating himself.
A Gricean reading One could almost rewrite Sidonius: PHILOSOPHVS. I have
an argument. FAVSTVS. Let us examine it. PHILOSOPHVS. You have refuted me.
FAVSTVS. No, your argument has refuted itself. SIDONIVS. vernaculis
implicaturis "by home-grown
entanglements." The point is not
merely that Faustus catches them. Rather:
they are caught by structures already present in their own
positions. Why Grice would have loved
the phrase The remarkable thing is that Grice's later metaphor works almost
identically. For Sidonius: implicatura =
an argumentative entanglement. For
Grice: implicature = something folded
into an utterance. Both derive naturally
from: implicare "to fold in",
"to intertwine", "to entangle." And, as you've often stressed, the opposite
is: explicare "to
unfold." So the hearer explicates
what has been implicated. Sidonius' philosophers are literally caught in their
own implicaturae. Grice's hearers recover the implicature hidden within the
utterance. The metaphor is not identical, but the family resemblance is
astonishing. And yes: this letter, full of praise, irony, friendship, teasing
reproach, literary display, philosophical reference, and conversational
indirection, is exactly the sort of thing one can imagine Grice reading with
delight and saying: "Why, this is
practically a letter one might write oneself."
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sollio – Ossia: Grice e
Sollio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Sollio. A close
second choice would be Gaius Sollius Marculus, the librarius (copyist). [GREXv3
| Word] A copyist raises wonderfully Gricean questions: Whose meaning survives in a copied text? The author's? The scribe's? The reader's?
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Solonghello – Ossia: Grice
e Solonghello: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura italiana. Note
sull’etica del diritto. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Pietro Silvio
Rivetta di Solonghello (Roma, Lazio): la ragione conversazionale e
l’implicatura italiana. A comparison between Grice and Pietro Silvio Rivetta
di Solonghello on reason‑governed conversational meaning brings out a
distinctive convergence between analytic pragmatics and an Italian tradition of
linguistic irony and stylistic intelligence. Grice’s theory explicates
conversational meaning in terms of rationally governed inference, where
implicatures arise because speakers are presumed to cooperate and to be
sensitive to what is relevant, informative, and purposeful in a given exchange;
the framework is intentionally spare, abstracting away from particular
languages or cultural temperaments to isolate a universal structure of
communicative reason. Solonghello, by contrast, approaches conversational
reasoning from within the texture of Italian language and culture itself,
treating implicature not as a neutral by‑product of rational cooperation but as
a vivid, often humorous exploitation of shared expectations, idioms, and
ironies that animate everyday talk. While Grice insists that implicature is a
matter of what is meant rather than what is said, Solonghello delights in
showing how Italian speakers habitually say less, say sideways, or say
playfully, trusting that their interlocutors will grasp the intended meaning
through cultural attunement as much as logical inference. The affinity between
them lies in their shared rejection of strictly literalist or formalist
accounts of meaning, yet the contrast is telling: Grice’s conversational
rationality is calibrated to the disciplined recognition of intentions among
theoretically ideal agents, whereas Solonghello’s is embodied in linguistic
creativity, journalistic wit, and a lived sensitivity to conversational nuance,
making implicature in Italian not only a rational phenomenon but also an
expressive and ludic one. Grice: “If I were to be aske, as I’m usually not, at
Oxford – with which Italian philosopher I identity myself most I would say
Speranza – and second, S.!” Keywords: implicatura, implicature
dell’italiano, la conversazione. G Tòddi -- Pseudonimo del giornalista Pier
Silvio Rivetta. M. Roma. Ottimo conoscitore di lingue, addetto all'ambasciata
italiana a Tokyo, è poi prof. incaricato di giapponese e cinese all'Istituto
orientale di Napoli. Ma soprattutto dedica il suo versatile ingegno al
giornalismo come direttore dei periodici La Tribuna illustrata, Noi e il mondo,
Travaso delle idee, e redattore del quotidiano La Tribuna. Autore di
numerosissimi volumi, di vivace stesura, in cui si riflettono i suoi molteplici
interessi e una notevole vena di narratore umoristico (Grammatico giapponese;
Validità giorni dieci; La pittura moderna giapponese; Itinerari bizzarri;
Avventure e disavventure delle parole; Che bella lingua, il greco; Grammatica
rivoluzionaria della lingua italiana; Geometria della realtà e inesistenza
della morte; ecc.). «Non tutto il male vien per nuocere? Bugia! Ogni male viene
per nuocere. Se produce qualche beneficio, è un male fatto male» (S.) Pietro
Silvio Rivetta di Solonghello, noto anche con lo pseudonimo di Toddi, è stato
un filosofo, giornalista, scrittore, illustratore e cineasta
italiano. Membro di una famiglia aristocratica di conti originari di
Solonghello, nel Basso Monferrato, nacque da Vittorio S. e Chiara De Blasio.
Compagno di classe del critico teatrale Amico, il conte S. si laurea in
giurisprudenza ed esorde come giornalista al quotidiano romano La
Tribuna. Trova impiego all'ambasciata italiana a Tokyo. Tornato in
Italia, collabora a L'Epoca, e successivamente collabora a Noi e il mondo e a
La Tribuna illustrata. Poliglotta, S. conosce ben 14 lingue, tra cui il cinese
e il giapponese. Appassionato della cultura orientale, ottenne la cattedra di
docente di lingua e cultura giapponese e cinese presso il Regio Istituto
Universitario Orientale di Napoli.
Grice: Professore Rivetta, mi permetta di dirle che la sua “Grammatica
rivoluzionaria della lingua italiana” è una delle opere più brillanti che abbia
letto: davvero una ventata d’aria fresca! Solonghello: La ringrazio di cuore,
Professor Grice. Sentire queste parole da lei, che ha donato tanto alla
filosofia del linguaggio, è motivo di orgoglio. D’altronde, l’italiano ha
bisogno ogni tanto di essere scompaginato e reinventato! Grice: Proprio così!
Il modo in cui lei indaga le implicature e il gioco sottile delle conversazioni
italiane mi ricorda quanto la prammatica sia viva, anche fuori dai testi
accademici. C’è quasi un piacere ludico nell’esplorare gli inganni e le ironie
della lingua. Solonghello: Ah, maestro, lei coglie il punto! “Non tutto il male
vien per nuocere? Bugia! Ogni male viene per nuocere. Se produce qualche
beneficio, è un male fatto male”... L’ironia è l’essenza della conversazione
italiana, e la grammatica, se non sa sorridere, ha perso il suo spirito.
Solonghello, Pietro Silvio Rivetta di (1942). L’etica del diritto. Torino:
Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Somenzi – Ossia: Grice e
Somenzi: la ragione conversazionale del naturale, l’innaturale, il
sovranaturale, ed il trasnaturale. Note sull’Introduzione al pensiero
contemporaneo. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Vittorio Somenzi (Redonesco,
Mantova, Lombardia): la ragione conversazionale del naturale, l’innaturale, il
sovranaturale, ed il trasnaturale. A comparison
between Grice and Vittorio Somenzi on reason‑governed conversational meaning
shows both a point of contact in their rejection of brute empiricism and a deep
divergence in how widely reason is allowed to range. Grice’s account is
deliberately modest and analytical: conversational meaning is governed by
rational principles internal to communicative practice, where speakers and
hearers treat one another as calculating agents and derive meaning through
recognizable intentions constrained by cooperation, relevance, and rational
expectations; any appeal beyond this, whether metaphysical or scientific, is
methodologically excluded. Somenzi, by contrast, expands the scope of
conversational reason by embedding it in a unified conception of nature that
runs from the physical through the cybernetic to the mental and even the so‑called
supernatural, treating meaning, signs, and communication as manifestations of
operationally describable processes within an extended natural order. Where
Grice isolates the logic of conversation from metaphysical commitments,
insisting that implicature and meaning can be explained without enlarging our
ontology, Somenzi seeks to naturalize even the “trans‑natural” by integrating
communication, cognition, and signification into a cybernetic and operational
framework in which reason operates continuously across domains. Thus Grice’s
theory marks a boundary line, preserving conversational rationality as a norm
governing talk among persons, while Somenzi treats conversational meaning as
one instance of a broader rational organization of nature itself, dissolving
the sharp distinction between the natural, the mental, and the conceptual that
Grice carefully maintains. Grice: “ In the philosophy of S., a
philosophical physicist and pioneer of Italian cybernetics, natura (nature)
serves as the foundational concept that bridges the gap between empirical
science and broader philosophical inquiry. His perspective is characterized by
a "methodological-operational" approach that seeks to unify physical
reality with what has traditionally been considered metaphysical. Natura as a
Unified Framework For S., the term natura is not limited to the
observable world of classical physic. Rather, it acts as an umbrella that
integrates three primary domains: Naturalia (Physics): This represents the
traditional domain of physics — the study of matter, energy, and observable
phenomena. S., influenced by operationalism, argues that scientific concepts
are defined by the operations used to measure them. Thus, Naturalia are the
starting point for all objective knowledge. Trans-naturalia (Metaphysics): This
term refers to the extension of natural laws into domains that transcend immediate
observation but remain within the reach of scientific logic -- e.g.,
cybernetics and information theory. Supra-naturalia
(Metaphysics/Sovranaturale): In the Italian context of naturale and
sovranaturale, S. posited that even "supernatural" or mental
phenomena could be understood as complex natural processes. His work on
"thinking matter" (La materia pensante) suggests that the mind and
consciousness are not "above" nature but are sophisticated
expressions of it. The Operationalist Bridge S.’s unique contribution
is using operationalism to demystify metaphysics. By treating metaphysical
notions as trans-naturalia, he argues that they could be integrated into a
unified scientific worldview: Cybernetic Integration. naturale,
sovranaturale, Grice, Metaphysics in Pears, The Nature of Metaphysics. Grice:
Professore Somenzi, mi dica: quando lei parla di naturale, innaturale,
sovranaturale e trasnaturale, non le capita mai di sentirsi come uno chef
davanti a un menù troppo ricco? Io, già solo scegliendo tra “naturale” e
“innaturale”, ho il terrore di sbagliare condimento filosofico! Somenzi: Caro Grice, in effetti, tra i
filosofi lombardi c’è chi pensa che la natura sia una pentola che bolle sempre,
e ogni tanto ci tuffiamo dentro concetti come “sovranaturale” sperando non ci
venga a noia! Ma la cybernetica almeno ci insegna che il brodo si rinnova, e
ogni ingrediente può diventare protagonista.
Grice: Vede, io non ho mai avuto paura di “segnare” – anche se a Oxford
il verbo ha fatto sorridere più di una volta! Mi piace pensare che ogni segno –
naturale, non-naturale, transnaturale o sovranaturale – sia come una pennellata
sulla tela della natura. Del resto, nulla è davvero contro natura, semmai è
solo un po’ più creativo! Somenzi:
Implicatura più naturalmente naturale, Grice! Lei arriva sempre al cuore della
questione! Se avessimo un proverbio lombardo, direi: “Chi segna con la mente,
segna con la natura.” Somenzi, Vittorio (1940). Sopra l’interazione
elettrodinamica di due elettroni e teoria di Welker sulla superconduttività.
Sotto Giovanni Gentile junior. Milano.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sordi – Ossia: Grice e
Sordi: la ragione conversazionale -- o il club d’Aquino. Note sul Manuale di
filosofia. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Father Serafino Sordi, S. J. (Centenaro di Ferriere, Emilia): la ragione
conversazionale -- o il club d’Aquino. A comparison
between Grice and Serafino Sordi on reason‑governed conversational meaning
highlights a shared conviction that rational order underwrites intelligible
communication, while revealing sharply different sources and functions for that
rationality. Grice conceives conversational meaning as arising from the
purposive actions of speakers who implicitly commit themselves to cooperation,
so that what is meant is fixed by rationally recoverable intentions constrained
by a small set of conversational norms; rationality here is thin, procedural,
and deliberately detached from metaphysical, theological, or institutional
frameworks. Sordi, by contrast, interprets conversational reason through a
Thomistic and counter‑revolutionary lens, treating Aquinas not merely as a
metaphysician but as the intellectual organizer of a community bound by shared
doctrine, social ends, and cultivated forms of discourse, so that conversation
itself becomes a practice sustained by belonging to what might be called the
“club of Aquinas.” Where Grice emphasizes individual inferential competence and
the ability to recognize implicatures independently of tradition or authority,
Sordi stresses the communal and doctrinal conditions that make rational
discourse possible at all, viewing reason as something safeguarded,
transmitted, and stabilized by institutional continuity against the fragmenting
tendencies of empiricism and modernism. The contrast thus runs between Grice’s
analytically austere model, in which conversational meaning is generated by
autonomous agents reasoning together under minimal assumptions, and Sordi’s
Thomistic model, in which conversational rationality is inseparable from a
shared metaphysical outlook and a social practice that binds interlocutors into
a durable intellectual community. Grice: “S. enriches AQUINO ’s philosophy by
transforming it from a static theological tradition into a dynamic intellectual
"bulwark" against modernism, specifically within the Italian
counter-revolutionary context . His work revitalizes the "Italian
philosophical depth" of AQUINO by applying scholastic
principles to contemporary social and political crises. Modernizing AQUINO’s
Methodology S. does not merely repeat medieval formulas; he pioneers a
comparative methodology that places AQUINO in direct dialogue with
rationalist and empiricist systems. Superiority through Comparison: S. uses
AQUINO ’s doctrines to expose the perceived deficiencies in philosophy, arguing
that AQUINO provides a more comprehensive understanding of reality
than the "sensism" and "empiricism" of his day.
Intellectual Custodian: S. is regarded as the custodian of the legacy of
BUZZETTI , who first identifies AQUINO as the "sound
philosophy" needed to preserve the religious and social
order. Influencing the Italian AQUINO ’s Renaissance S.’s influence
is instrumental in moving AQUINO from the margins of ecclesiastical
thought to the centre of Italian intellectual life: Mentorship of TAPARELLI :
S. is the mentor of Taparelli d'AZEGLIO , a key figure in AQUINO ’s revival.
AZEGLIO ’s conversion to the philosophy of AQUINO , prompted by S.’s writings,
led to the creation of a "compendium" of AQUINO that helps
standardise scholastic education in Jesuit colleges. Counter-Revolutionary
Depth: S. views the philosophy of AQUINO as an essential tool for
social restoration. By framing AQUINO ’s metaphysics as the foundation for a
stable socio-political order, he adds a layer of pragmatic, contemporary depth
to Italian philosophical discourse that goes beyond abstract
speculation. AQUINO. Grice:
Caro Sordi, si dice che in filosofia conta saper argomentare, ma io sono
convinto che la vera virtù sia… la clubbability! D’altronde, anche a Oxford ci
si riunisce per il tè, mica solo per i sillogismi. Sordi: Ah, Grice, qui a Milano forse il tè lo
lasciamo agli inglesi, ma il vero spirito del club d’Aquino sta proprio nel
mescolare dottrina e compagnia. Tra una Summa e una battuta, si fa filosofia e
contro-rivoluzione! Grice: Si sa, alcuni
club sono esclusivi per statuto; tuttavia, il club d’Aquino… be’, diciamo che
chi sa cogliere certe implicature, come avrebbe detto il buon Dr. Johnson, si
trova subito a casa—al di là della tessera.
Sordi: Implicatura più clubbabile, Grice! In fondo, tra filosofi, la
vera appartenenza si misura dal sorriso che si cela dietro una definizione… e
dal numero di panettoni condivisi durante le dispute metafisiche. Without preamble or ps, provide a 100-move conversation as G. and S.
discuss Sordi on Aquinas and as they discuss the reception of Aquinas at Oxford
via Kenny and all they have against saints like Bonaventura, born Fidanza, but
at least Aquino did not change his name -- and then Sir Thomas More -- was he
made a saint, and the C. of E. and the Roman Catholics, and the Italians, and
the fact that Aquinas died wihtout being a saint -- and that actually may have
helped his reputation. etc -- you can use the passage below as basis -- tahnks.
G.: Let us begin with Sordi’s club, because every Thomist eventually behaves as
if Aquinas had founded not merely a school but a species of admission society.
S.: A club with better Latin than most clubs, though not always better wine.
G.: Quite. And the irony, of course, is that Thomas died without the advantage
of official sainthood, which may have done him more good than immediate
canonisation would have done. S.: Because he was still available as a thinker
before becoming fully available as an altar-piece. G.: Exactly. There is a
small interval in which a dead theologian remains a philosopher. Once the halo
arrives, readers become tempted to genuflect where they ought to distinguish.
S.: Then Sordi, as Jesuit custodian, is trying to keep the distinctions alive
while still enjoying the halo. G.: Very well put. He wants Aquinas both as
sound philosophy and as counter-revolutionary bulwark, which is a difficult
double office. S.: And one that Oxford receives rather differently. G.:
Entirely. Oxford, being Anglican, classicising, and institutionally allergic to
papal enthusiasm, can accept Aquinas as a formidable mind without ever quite
joining the devotional queue. S.: Hence Kenny. G.: Yes, hence Kenny, who is
almost the ideal English case: former seminarian, real philosopher, trained
enough in the tradition to read Thomas from inside, detached enough from
institutional piety to teach him as philosophy rather than merely as doctrine.
S.: So Kenny helps Aquinas survive translation into Oxford. G.: He does. He lets
Aquinas enter the room not as the Angelic Doctor under glass, but as a serious
disputant on act and potency, essence and existence, intention, will, law,
virtue, and the rest. S.: Yet the saintliness does not disappear. G.: No, but
it becomes biographically secondary rather than pedagogically primary. Which is
probably as Aquinas would have preferred, though one should never ascribe
modesty too confidently to a Dominican. S.: A useful rule. G.: Now,
Bonaventure. S.: Or should one say Giovanni di Fidanza, which already sounds
like the beginning of a problem. G.: Exactly. Bonaventure is philosophically
suspicious to me because the name-change itself smells faintly of
pre-sanctified literary arrangement. S.: Harsh. G.: Dry rather than harsh.
Thomas remains Thomas of Aquino. Bonaventure enters philosophy under an already
elevated title. S.: Though to be fair, the title is historical enough. G.: No
doubt. But names matter. Fidanza is a proper mortal name. Bonaventura already
means that Providence is doing the publicity. S.: Whereas Aquino is merely
locative. G.: Precisely. A place-name. About as sober as one could hope.
“Thomas from Aquino” sounds almost administrative compared with “Bonaventure.”
S.: So you suspect saints with uplifting names. G.: I suspect philosophy’s
reception when names begin flattering the doctrine before one has read a page.
S.: Then Aquinas benefited from dying first and shining later. G.: Very much
so. Death before sainthood gave his work a period of intellectual circulation
in which it could be disputed, appropriated, mistrusted, admired, and used
without immediate liturgical suffocation. S.: And by the time canonisation
comes, the philosophy is already too large to be reduced to sanctity. G.:
Exactly. The Summa and the commentaries have already escaped the shrine. S.:
Which is not true of every saintly thinker. G.: Not true at all. Many are
canonised before they are read, and after that their philosophy becomes a
species of ecclesiastical furniture. S.: You really do resent canonised furniture.
G.: I resent all furniture that starts calling itself self-evident. Now, Sordi
wants Aquinas as the sound philosophy needed to preserve religious and social
order. S.: Which immediately moves the thing from university debate into
cultural programme. G.: Yes. Aquinas becomes not only a thinker but an
instrument of restoration, which has pedagogic force but also risks using
Thomas as a banner rather than as a mind. S.: Yet the comparative method Sordi
favours seems philosophically serious. He sets Aquinas against rationalists and
empiricists to show the deficiencies of the latter. G.: Quite. That part I
admire more. Comparison at least gives Aquinas opponents worthy of him and
keeps scholasticism from becoming mere repetition. S.: So Sordi modernises
method while conserving doctrine. G.: Precisely. He does not just chant
medieval formulas. He drags Thomas into combat with modern errors, which is at
least more philosophical than reverential paraphrase. S.: Though you do not
like the social restoration part. G.: I dislike any philosophy that begins
sounding like a police recommendation, yes. S.: That will not help your Jesuit
reception. G.: My Jesuit reception is poor already. Still, Aquinas in Sordi’s
hands becomes a club principle: one belongs to the community of reason by
belonging, in effect, to the intellectual order of Thomas. S.: Hence the “club
of Aquino.” G.: Yes. A durable intellectual community underwritten by common
metaphysics. Very unlike my own thinner, more procedural notion of conversational
reason. S.: Because for you people can reason together without first sharing a
full metaphysical picture. G.: Exactly. They need only enough common ground,
enough inferential trust, enough practical rationality. Sordi thinks reason
itself must be stabilised by shared doctrine and institutional continuity. S.:
And perhaps he is not wholly wrong, if one is speaking of civilisation rather
than single exchanges. G.: A fair caution. At the civilisational level,
institutions do stabilise discourse. My complaint is only that one should not
make metaphysical club-membership a precondition of intelligibility. S.: Oxford
prefers public reasons to doctrinal fraternity. G.: At its best, yes. Though
Oxford also has clubs disguised as reason. S.: Naturally. Now, how does Sir
Thomas More enter this saintly parade? G.: Ah yes, poor More. An English
martyr, canonised by Rome, admired by Anglicans with careful discomfort, quoted
by politicians, and misused by nearly everyone. S.: Was he made a saint? Yes,
by the Roman Catholics. G.: Certainly. Canonised in 1935, which already tells
one something about modern uses of old martyrdom. S.: And the Church of
England? G.: More complicated. The Church of England may honour him
liturgically in certain calendars or ecumenical moods, but without the Roman
machinery of canonisation in quite the same sense. Anglicans are good at
admiring Roman saints while pretending not to notice the Roman paperwork. S.:
So More is a saint in one church, an heroic conscience in another, and an
awkward statesman in every history seminar. G.: Exactly. Which makes him
philosophically useful and institutionally inconvenient. S.: The Italians like
him? G.: Italians like everyone once a text can be translated and a conscience
dramatized. But More never belongs to Italy the way Aquinas does. He is
received, not inherited. S.: Whereas Thomas belongs to Italy before he belongs
to Rome. G.: Good. Aquino is geographically, intellectually, and philologically
Italian before being ecclesiastically universal. S.: And that helps his
philosophical reputation. G.: Immensely. One can read him as an Italian
thinker, a Dominican, a scholastic, a metaphysician, a commentator on
Aristotle, a theologian, and only then as Saint Thomas, in that order if one is
healthy. S.: While Bonaventure arrives already half-canon in the sound of his
name. G.: Exactly. And that is why I am mean about him. S.: You are rarely mean
without principle. G.: Thank you. My principle here is that philosophy profits
from late sanctification, if sanctification must come at all. S.: So the ideal
schedule is: write hugely, die, circulate, dispute, be attacked, be
appropriated, influence universities, and only then be sainted when it no
longer matters too much. G.: Splendid. Yes. That would preserve both the shrine
and the seminar. S.: Aquinas nearly got that. G.: Nearly enough. The
philosophical body had already escaped the hagiographical envelope. S.: And
Oxford could then receive him through Aristotle as much as through Rome. G.:
Precisely. That is crucial. Thomas enters Oxford not because Oxford wants
saints, but because Oxford wants Aristotle explained by someone with terrifying
competence. S.: Hence the long life of Thomism in odd English forms. G.: Yes.
Not always devotional Thomism, often rather anti-devotional. One can be deeply
interested in Thomas’s metaphysics and still remain temperamentally Anglican,
sceptical, or even cheerfully secular. S.: Kenny again. G.: Kenny, certainly.
Also Anscombe at certain points, and others who found in Thomas a grammar of
intention, action, law, and virtue strong enough to survive confessional
thinning. S.: Bonaventure fares worse there. G.: Much worse. He is too
illuminated, too affective, too seraphic for the average Oxford appetite. His
thought may be rich, but it carries too much atmosphere for a place that likes
furniture with straight lines. S.: Whereas Thomas can be made to look almost
administrative. G.: Exactly. He is saintly by metaphysical bulk, not by
mystical perfume. S.: You should not say that in a Franciscan house. G.: I
should say nothing in a Franciscan house if I can help it. Now, what has Sordi
against modernism? S.: Everything, I should think. Fragmentation, empiricism,
sensism, thinning of metaphysical order, and the modern tendency to imagine
that conversation can survive without common first principles. G.: Very good.
For him, Aquinas is not merely one thinker among others but the organiser of a
durable intellectual commonwealth. S.: Which is why you call it a club. G.:
Yes. The club is not frivolous. It is an order of discourse in which shared
assumptions make rational exchange stable. S.: Then perhaps one should not mock
Sordi too quickly. He is trying to explain how communities of reason are kept
alive. G.: True. My resistance is only to the suggestion that the community
must already agree on full metaphysical furniture before any real
conversational reason can occur. S.: You prefer lighter luggage. G.: Exactly.
My travellers need intentions, recognitions, norms of cooperation, not
necessarily the whole Summa packed into their cases. S.: Yet there are cases
where the Summa helps. G.: Of course. On action, intention, double effect, law,
virtue, natural teleology, Thomas is not merely respectable but indispensable.
S.: And Sordi would add social order. G.: Naturally. He wants Thomas as the
foundation for social restoration, which is where I begin reaching for the
door. S.: Because restoration often means other people’s freedom quietly tidied
away. G.: Yes. Philosophies of order always risk making liberty sound like bad
filing. S.: Still, in the case of patria, church, and school, Thomas often
looks less like a tyrant and more like a patient classifier. G.: Quite. Which
is why he is teachable. His distinctions are often humane because they are
slow. S.: That is a beautiful sentence. G.: Keep it and make it look as if
Sordi thought it first. S.: He may have. Then tell me: did sainthood distort
Thomas’s reception at Oxford or help it? G.: Both, in different rooms. It
distorted him for those who wanted him as doctrinal authority merely. It helped
him by guaranteeing preservation, commentary, and institutional seriousness.
But Oxford ultimately took what it wanted from Thomas because the thought was
too good to leave to the saints. S.: And the Italians? G.: The Italians had two
temptations: either to sanctify him into pious marble, or to nationalise him
into a philosophical ancestor of order. Sordi, I think, hovers between the two
without collapsing wholly into either. S.: Because he still compares Aquinas with
modern philosophers. G.: Exactly. Comparative method keeps the club from
becoming purely liturgical. S.: Though Taparelli and the Jesuit compendia pull
the other way. G.: They do. Standardisation is always both a pedagogic benefit
and an intellectual risk. Once Thomas becomes the approved manual, one can stop
reading Thomas and start reading Thomism. S.: Which is often death by
commentary. G.: Very often. Commentary is excellent until it becomes the only
thing one is allowed to admire. S.: That danger exists for saints more than for
ordinary philosophers. G.: Much more. Saints attract piety before they attract
scrutiny. Thomas survives because he is too difficult, too systematic, and too
philosophically fecund to remain merely an object of cult. S.: Bonaventure does
not quite survive in the same way. G.: No. He survives more selectively, where
people want illumination, exemplarism, Augustinian interiority, Franciscan
warmth, or spiritual metaphysics. But he never quite becomes the common
philosophical currency Thomas became. S.: Because Fidanza became Bonaventura
too soon? G.: If not historically, then acoustically, yes. S.: You are
impossible. G.: I am merely phonologically suspicious. Names predispose
reception. “Aquinas” sounds like a location; “Bonaventure” sounds like a sermon
title. S.: That is unjust and very funny. G.: Good. Keep both qualities
together. Now, More again. Does his sainthood help or hinder philosophical
reception? S.: Mostly hinder, perhaps, if one is after political argument
rather than conscience theatre. G.: Yes. More is too easily flattened into
martyrdom and thereby rescued from the tedious difficulty of his political
thought and historical conduct. S.: Whereas Thomas is so large that sainthood
cannot flatten him entirely. G.: Precisely. One saint is absorbed by his halo;
the other irradiates beyond it. S.: Then Sordi’s real contribution is to keep
Aquinas as intellectual organizer rather than merely devotional ancestor. G.:
Yes. That is his strength. He makes Thomas do contemporary work against
empiricism and modern disintegration. Whether one likes the social programme is
another matter. S.: But one can at least see why he matters for an Italian
“Aquinas renaissance.” G.: Very much so. He helps move Thomas from the edge of
ecclesiastical memory back to the centre of intellectual life. S.: And Oxford
receives that through different conduits. G.: Through philosophers,
translators, ex-seminarians, classicists, moralists, and those who discovered
that analytic distinctions did not forbid theological intelligence. S.: So
perhaps Aquinas’s best fortune was to be born local, think universal, die a
friar, and become a saint only after philosophers had already started stealing
him. G.: That is excellent. Yes. Philosophical theft before canonical
enclosure. S.: Then your final verdict on saints and philosophy? G.: Saints are
dangerous to philosophy when reverence arrives too early. Philosophy survives
saints when the thought has already learned to travel without the relics. S.:
And Aquinas? G.: A triumph of travel over relic. S.: Bonaventure? G.: A
beautiful problem under an overhelpful name. S.: More? G.: A martyr too quickly
moralised for the comfort of historians and too English to remain wholly Roman.
S.: Sordi? G.: A club secretary of genius, provided one does not let him lock
the door. S.: Dry enough? G.: Sufficiently Piacentine, with one Dominican lamp
still burning.Sordi, Serafino (1814). Studi su Aquino. Sotto Buzzetti.
Seminario di Piacenza, Emilia.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Soria -- Grice e Soria:
la ragione conversazionale dell’opuscolo della simpatia – la scuola di Lama.
Note sugli Studi storici e filosofici. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice.
Giovanni Gualberto De Soria (Pisa, Toscana): la ragione conversazionale
dell’opuscolo della simpatia. A comparison between Grice and
Giovanni Gualberto De Soria on reason‑governed conversational reasoning reveals
a shared commitment to rational intelligibility as the basis of communication,
but grounded in strikingly different metaphysical and explanatory frameworks.
Grice’s theory treats conversational reasoning as a minimally moral, quasi‑contractual
practice among agents who recognize one another as capable of rational
cooperation: meaning is generated through intentions constrained by a single
overarching principle of cooperation, with breakdowns explained not by failures
of empathy or sympathy but by calculable deviations from relevance,
informativeness, or sincerity. De Soria, by contrast, situates conversational
reason within a thicker metaphysical and anthropological background, where
simpatia functions as the mediating principle between self‑love and other‑love,
reason and benevolence, individual cognition and a universally resonant order
of nature. Whereas Grice deliberately strips conversational reasoning of
animistic or affective surplus, anchoring it in sober rational expectations
shared by competent interlocutors, De Soria’s account allows sympathy, empathy,
and benevolent responsiveness to play a constitutive role in the very
possibility of understanding, so that cooperation is not merely inferred but
felt as part of a broader moral resonance between minds. In Grice, rationality
governs conversation by regulating inference among autonomous agents; in De
Soria, conversational rationality is already infused with a moral psychology of
helpfulness and mutual attunement, edging toward a universalist picture in
which communication among humans mirrors a deeper harmony in the world. The
contrast thus lies between Grice’s austere, analytically disciplined conception
of conversational reason and De Soria’s more expansive Enlightenment vision,
where rational cooperation remains central but is sustained by sympathy as a
bridge between reason, sentiment, and shared human life. Grice: “S. is an
Italian philosopher and professor at Pisa, known for his work in
the Italian Enlightenment and his attempts to reconcile rationalism
with traditional metaphysics. While he did not intend for his philosophy to be
seen as animistic, his approach to "sympathy" (or simpatia) can be
interpreted that way through several lenses. Universal Resonance as Living Connection
S.’s concept of sympathy often relies on the idea of a universal harmony or
resonance between different parts of the natural world. To a rationalist, this
might be viewed as a mechanical or causal link; however, an unintentional
animistic reading suggests that for such a "sympathy" to exist, the
objects themselves must possess an inherent, internal "attraction" or
"feeling" for one another. This mirrors the animistic belief that all
matter is imbued with a form of life or soul that allows for mutual influence
beyond physical contact. Immateriality and the "Vitality"
of Nature In his work Della esistenza e degli attributi di Dio, S. argues for
the immateriality of the human spirit. When he extends these metaphysical
principles to the broader "science of nature" (scienza della natura),
he risks blurring the line between the human soul and the "spirit" of
the cosmos. If the entire universe operates under a system of sympathies
similar to the human spirit's inner workings, it implies a nature that is
"alive" with the same immaterial qualities, a hallmark of animistic
thought. Mediation Between the Physical and Spiritual S. seeks to move beyond
"all hypotheses" to a pure "science of man". l’opuscolo,
simpatia, simpatia, empatia, simpatia conversazionale, other-love, self-love,
benevolenza, helpfulness, cooperation, basis, dull empiriist, enough of a
rationalist, quasi-contractualist, relevance breakdown on you, one principle,
rationality, cooperation. Grice: Professore De Soria, la sua teoria
della simpatia mi ha sempre affascinato. Mi sembra che lei riesca quasi a far
“vibrare” il mondo naturale attraverso un principio di comunicazione
universale. Crede davvero che ogni cosa, anche la più minuta, partecipi a
questa armonia? Soria: Caro Grice, le confesso che la mia idea di simpatia
nasce dal desiderio di scoprire un filo invisibile che unisca uomini e natura,
senza cadere nell’animismo ingenuo. Preferisco pensare a una risonanza
razionale, dove ogni parte del cosmo risponde, pur mantenendo la sua autonomia
spirituale. Grice: Eppure, la sua prospettiva sembra quasi suggerire che la
natura abbia una sua interiorità, un sentimento diffuso, come se fosse animata.
Non trova che questa visione, pur razionale, sfiori l’empatia universale di cui
parlano i filosofi più “vitali”? Soria: È vero, maestro, ma la mia simpatia
vuole essere un ponte tra ragione e sentimento, non una confusione tra la mente
umana e lo spirito cosmico. Preferisco pensare che la cooperazione e la
benevolenza siano principi che guidano sia la conversazione tra uomini, sia
l’armonia del mondo. In fondo, come dice il proverbio: “Chi semina buone
parole, raccoglie simpatia.” Soria, Giovanni Gualberto De (1727).
Dissertazione. Giurisprudenza, Pisa.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sornatio – Ossia: Grice e
Sornatio -- GREX griceiana – verbalia: SORNATIO. The gens
Sornatia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Few members of this
gens appear in history, of whom the most famous was a general of Lucullus
during the Third Mithridatic War, but several others are known from
inscriptions. Origin The nomen Sornatius
resembles other gentilicia formed using the suffix -atius, usually from
cognomina ending in -as or -atis, derived from place names, or participles
ending in -atus.[1] However, there are no known corresponding surnames; there
was, however, a town called Sornum in Dacia.[2] There was also a rare gentile
name Sornius,[i] from which the nomen might have been derived.[3] Members This list includes abbreviated
praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Sornatius, a
physician quoted by Pliny the Elder. Sornatius is given as an authority for the
proposition that those using a certain hair dye produced by rotting leeches in
a leaden vessel full of vinegar should put oil in their mouths to prevent their
teeth from blackening along with their hair.[4][5] Gaius Sornatius C. f., a
legate of the proconsul Lucius Licinius Lucullus during the Third Mithridatic
War. In 72 BC, he inflicted a devastating defeat on the Pontic army, and nearly
captured Mithridates. When Lucullus invaded Armenia in 69, he left Sornatius in
charge of Pontus, with a force of six thousand soldiers. The following year,
his soldiers mutinied, and refused to leave for Armenia, until shamed into
doing so by a Roman defeat.[6][7][8] Gaius Sornatius C. f., named in an
inscription from Castrum Novum in Picenum.[9] Gaius Sornatius C. f., a
centurion primus pilus in the Legio X Fretensis, buried at Rome, with a
monument from Sornatia Phiale.[10] Sornatia Arecusa, together with her son,
Gaius Sornatius Indus, dedicated a tomb at Rome for her husband of forty-three
years, Quintus Lucretius Zeuxis, aged sixty.[11] Gaius Sornatius Q. f. Q. n.
Indus, together with his mother, Sornatia Arecusa, dedicated a tomb at Rome for
his father, Quintus Lucretius Zeuxis.[11] Sornatia Phiale, dedicated a monument
at Rome to Gaius Sornatius, the centurion.[10] Gaius Sornatius Plutus, together
with Gaius Norbanus Amianthus, masters of a slave named Cedrus, named in an
inscription from Rome.[12] Gaius Sornatius Quartio, buried at Rome, with a
monument from his sister, Sornatia.[13] Titus Sornatius C. f. Sabinus, buried
at Rome during the first century, in a sepulchre built by his mother, Anusia
Tertia for herself and her son.[14] See also List of Roman gentes Notes Lucius Sornius, a soldier buried at Salona in
Dalmatia, and Titus Sornius L. f. Dexter, one of the quattuorviri with
aedilician powers at Verona in Venetia and Histria, as well as an augur and
flamen. References Chase, p. 126. Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography, vol.
II, p. 1023 ("Sornum"). CIL
III, 8757, CIL V, 3427. Pliny the Elder,
Historia Naturalis, xxxii. 23. PIR, S.
550. Plutarch, "The Life of
Lucullus", 17, 24, 30, 35. PW,
Sornatius. Broughton, vol. II, p. 119,
133, 139. CIL IX, 06080,21. CIL VI, 3633.
CIL VI, 21650. CIL VI, 14627. CIL VI,
26627. CIL V, 116. Bibliography Gaius
Plinius Secundus (Pliny the Elder), Historia Naturalis (Natural History).
Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus (Plutarch), Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans.
Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin
Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der
Wissenschaften (1853–present). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography, William
Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1854). August Pauly, Georg
Wissowa, et alii, Realencyclopädie der Classischen Altertumswissenschaft
(Scientific Encyclopedia of the Knowledge of Classical Antiquities, abbreviated
RE or PW), J. B. Metzler, Stuttgart (1894–1980). George Davis Chase, "The
Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology,
vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann
Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire,
abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). T. Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the
Roman Republic, American Philological Association (1952–1986). Category:
Roman gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sornatio – Ossia: Grice e
Sornatio -- GREX griceiana – verbalia: SORNATIO. For the
Sornatii, I would choose Gaius Sornatius, the legate of Lucullus during the
Third Mithridatic War. The sources explicitly credit him with a major victory
over the Pontic forces, and later report that troops under his command refused
to march into Armenia until later events shamed them into action. [GREXv3 |
Word] Why is he Gricean? Because his story turns on a classic problem of
orders, compliance, and uptake. An order is a peculiar communicative act. The
commander speaks, the troops understand perfectly, and yet nothing happens. Grice e
Sornatio: De Imperio et Intellegentia SORNATIVS. In Armeniam ite. (March into Armenia.) MILITES. Intellegimus. (We understand.) SORNATIVS.
Cur non itis? (Why do you not go?) MILITES. Intellegere aliud est, parere
aliud. (It is one thing to understand, another to obey.) SORNATIVS. Imperium
dedi. (I gave an order.) MILITES. Accepimus. (We received it.) GRICE.
Communicatio perfecta est; executio deficit. (The communication is perfect; the
execution fails.) +> Understanding does not guarantee compliance. What I
like here is that Grice often focused on successful uptake: Did the audience recognize the speaker's
intention? In Sornatius' case, the
soldiers plainly recognized the intention. The failure comes afterward. The
order is communicated successfully but not acted upon. That gives rise to a
useful distinction: communication
failure, obedience failure. Roman
military history often collapses the two; Grice would separate them. But
Sornatius the general remains the richer figure. Dry Speranzian formula The Sinnii preserve proverbs; the Sollii
preserve letters; the Sornatii preserve commands. Gaius Sornatius ordered six
thousand soldiers to march. They understood every word. Grice would remind us
that communication succeeded completely. The difficulty began only after
meaning had been understood. [GREXv3 | Word]
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sornatio – Ossia: Grice e
Sornatio -- GREX griceiana – verbalia: SORNATIO. A close
second candidate is the physician Sornatius quoted by Pliny the Elder. He is
remembered for a curious recommendation: users of a certain hair dye should
keep oil in their mouths lest their teeth darken together with their hair.
[GREXv3 | Word] That would permit a charming Gricean vignette about expert
testimony: MEDICVS. Oleum in ore tene. (Keep oil in your mouth.) AUDIO. Cur?
(Why?) MEDICVS. Ne dentes quoque tingantur. (Lest the teeth also be dyed.) Here
the question becomes: How much of an
expert's advice depends on trust rather than direct verification?
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sorrentino – Ossia: Grice
e Sorrentino: la ragione conversazionale del Vico italico – filosofia italiana
– Note su La retorica di Vico. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Andrea
Sorrentino (Roma, Lazio): la ragione conversazionale del Vico italico. Grice’s theory of reason‑governed conversational meaning and Andrea
Sorrentino’s Vico‑centred account of ragione conversazionale converge in
treating meaning as an achievement internal to rational social practice rather
than as a merely formal or semantic mechanism, yet they diverge sharply in
orientation and explanatory ambition. For Grice, conversational meaning is
generated by individual speakers acting under rational expectations articulated
through the Cooperative Principle and its maxims, so that what is meant emerges
from calculable inferences drawn by interlocutors who recognize one another as
reasoners aiming at mutual understanding; reason is here procedural, agent‑centred,
and minimally historical, functioning as a normative constraint on talk
exchanges wherever cooperative interaction occurs. By contrast, Sorrentino
reads Vico’s reason as culturally sedimented and historically embodied,
locating conversational rationality within the Mediterranean formation of Roman
law, Greek philosophy, rhetoric, and poetic knowledge, so that meaning arises
not primarily from strategic inference by individuals but from a shared
civilizational horizon that shapes how interlocutors can speak, persuade, and
understand one another at all. Where Grice abstracts conversation into a
formalizable structure of intentions, implications, and recognitions that can
in principle operate independently of cultural content, Sorrentino insists that
Vichian reason is inseparable from the imaginative, rhetorical, and juridical
practices of a specific historical world, in which conversation is already
thick with myth, metaphor, and communal memory; the contrast thus pits Grice’s
universalist, analytic model of conversational rationality against Sorrentino’s
historicized, Mediterranean model, in which reasoned meaning is less a
calculable inference than a culturally educated way of inhabiting and
continuing a shared form of life. Vico. Bordon, La retorica di Vico. VICO e
le razze mediterranee, Bulletin italien di Bordeaux. Scrocca. Vico e un suo
recente critico: in Rassegna nazionale di Firenze. A. SORRENTINO, La cultura
mediterranea nei Principi di Scienza nuova. Con scritti di G. Cacciatore, R.
Diana, M. Sanna e A. Scognamiglio, a cura di A. Scognamiglio, Roma, Edizioni di
Storia e Letteratura, Alessia Scognamiglio This volume
offers Andrea S.'s work La cultura mediterranea nei Principi di Scienza nuova after
almost a century from its first and only publication in 1920. In it, Sorrentino aims at showing that the world of nations which Vico
studies and sets forth in Scienza nuova is exclusively the Greek and the Roman
world, therefore a "Mediterranean" world, since Vico's cultural
background has been essentially formed through the study of Roman law and of
the greek philosophy, together with the research of the classical
studies. Furthermore,
the volume collects the contributions of Giuseppe Cacciatore, Rosario Diana,
Manuela Sanna and Alessia Scognamiglio. In his essay (Per un profilo di Andrea
Sorrentino, pp. ***), Giuseppe Cacciatore, after tracing Sorrentino's
scientific profile, reflects about some fundamental passages of his text: the
framework of Sorrentino's research, which places itself halfway between the
historical-scientific inquiry and the interest for the philosophy of culture;
the belief that some limits of Vico's analysis, which he proposes, come from
the conflicting relationship between the Neapolitan philosopher and his
century; the centrality of the theme of the poetic knowledge in the Scienza Nuova;
the problem of the Middle Ages between Rome's heritage and Germanic
sources. Manuela
Sanna (L'«epicentrismo» euromediterraneo di Vico nella lettura di Andrea S.)
summarizes Sorrentino's interpretative proposals, all pivoting around the idea
of epicentrism. Vico, razza mediterranea, razza aria. G: 1939. You have brought two Vicos into my
room and expect me to treat that as one. S: Two citations, sir. Page eighty,
and page one hundred and thirty-eight. Oxford prefers to learn by page number.
G: Oxford prefers to learn by footnote. S: Then you’re in luck. Page one
hundred and thirty-eight is a footnote. G: Read the page eighty Vico first. S:
Collingwood, Principles of Art. He says: Giambattista Vico said that children were
“sublime poets.” G: And what is Collingwood doing with that. S: He is doing
what Oxford always does: invoking a foreign genius in order to dismiss him
politely. G: Yes. He says Vico may be right, and then says it throws no light
for most of us. S: It’s the Oxford compliment: “Brilliant, but not useful.” G:
Now page one hundred and thirty-eight. S: The footnote says: the habit of
calling aesthetic experience “the pleasures of the imagination” dates back to
Addison; the philosophical theory of art as imagination, to his contemporary
Vico. G: That one is better. It gives Vico a role in the genealogy of an idea.
S: So Vico becomes, in Oxford, a footnote in a footnote. G: That is still an
improvement on being absent. S: But why is Collingwood so superficial, sir. G:
Because he is writing Principles of Art, not Principles of Naples. S: And
because he thinks “imagination” is a word you can use without paying rent. G:
Not quite. He knows it’s loaded. That’s why he attacks the confusion between
imagination and make-believe. S: His “anti-aesthetic” paragraph. G: Exactly. He
is actually making a conceptual distinction, which is our tribe’s only real
sport. S: And he brings in Vico to say: art as imagination has philosophical
ancestry, not just sentimental ancestry. G: Yes. Addison gives the phrase. Vico
gives the theory. S: Sir, you said earlier Collingwood “almost went to jail”
over Vico. G: Over Croce’s Vico, and translation rights. It is Oxford heroism
by paperwork. S: Collingwood translating Croce in 1913, and Douglas Ainslie
being furious. G: The Oxford contribution to Italian philosophy: litigation. S:
So the poor Oxonians needed Collingwood to render Vico intelligible. G: The
poor always learn at Oxford. The rich merely inherit committees. S: And
Sorrentino. G: Yes. Andrea Sorrentino on Vico, rhetoric and poetics. S: You
want me to use Collingwood as an Oxford anchor so Sorrentino doesn’t float in
from Rome like a decorative gondola. G: Precisely. We need Vico not as a
souvenir but as a presence in Oxford discourse during Grice’s period. S:
Collingwood gives you that. Twice. G: And Croce gives you a third way, via
Collingwood-as-translator. S: But then Grice. Would he have cared about Vico.
G: He would care about whatever made “meaning” look like a civil practice
rather than a code. S: And that is rhetoric. G: Yes. Rhetoric is the art of
making the hearer do work without resenting it. S: That sounds like
implicature. G: It is the ancestor of it, if you want a genealogy without
committing a crime. S: So Sorrentino’s “retorica di Vico” becomes relevant to
conversational reason. G: Yes. Because Vico’s rhetorica is not ornament; it is
the civil machinery by which a culture can mean things together. S: But Oxford
hates rhetoric. G: Oxford hates being accused of rhetoric. Oxford loves doing
it. S: Collingwood’s footnote is rhetoric too. G: Of course. It suggests a
whole intellectual lineage in one line and expects the reader to accept it. S:
What about Isaiah Berlin. G: Berlin is the later Oxford Vico evangelist, but in
1939 he is not yet the public Berlin of the Counter-Enlightenment. S: So we
keep him in the wings. G: Mention him only as future confirmation that Vico
will be taken seriously at Oxford. S: And Hampshire. G: Hampshire’s Vico essay
is after your window, but you can have us prophesy him. S: A prophecy in Oxford
is always a footnote in advance. G: Good. Now: rhetoric, rhetorica. S: Is Vico
more rhetorician than philosopher. G: That is an anachronism. In Vico’s world,
rhetoric is philosophy’s public face. And in Oxford’s world, philosophy
pretends it has no face. S: But it does. G: It does. It is called “ordinary
language.” S: Which is rhetoric in modest dress. G: Exactly. Now bring in I. A.
Richards, if you want. S: Richards has a Philosophy of Rhetoric. Not a
philosopher, strictly. G: That “strictly” is your mistake. Cambridge can
contribute too, but we’re anchoring Oxford. S: Grice quotes Ogden and Richards.
G: Yes. So the Oxford story includes Cambridge rhetoric as an imported tool. S:
Like a foreign wine. G: Exactly. Now, the imagination point. Collingwood has
“Language” as a chapter. S: In Principles of Art, Book II, Theory of
Imagination, Chapter XI. G: Good. Now link that to Wittgenstein’s duck-rabbit
and Anscombe, since you insisted. S: The duck-rabbit is aspect-seeing, and it
looks like imagination. G: Yes. And rhetoric is partly aspect-guiding. Making
the audience see it as duck, not rabbit, without stating “duck.” S: That sounds
like implicature again. G: It is not implicature strictly, but it is the same
discipline of guiding without spelling out. S: So you want one principle
governing language, like Vico’s rhetorical principle and Grice’s cooperative
principle. G: Yes. But be careful. Vico’s principle is historical and cultural;
mine is meant to be thin and general. S: And Collingwood sits between them with
imagination. G: Precisely. He turns imagination into a philosophical engine for
art, and he nods to Vico as a precursor. S: But he is superficial. G: He is
economical. Superficiality is sometimes economy. S: Sorrentino, on the other
hand, is not economical. G: Sorrentino is Roman, and Romans like architecture.
They build interpretive horizons. S: And Oxford likes small rooms. G: Exactly.
Oxford is suspicious of Mediterranean horizons because they make Oxford look
provincial. S: Which it is. G: Quietly. Now: why “retorica” for Vico. S:
Because Vico’s knowledge is poetic knowledge, and poetic knowledge is
rhetorical in its mode of presentation. G: Yes. And because Vico thinks nations
are made by imaginative universals, which are not deductions but tropes. S: So
a trope is a cognitive instrument, not a decoration. G: Exactly. That is the
Vichian move that Sorrentino wants. S: And Grice would translate that into:
hearers infer beyond what is said using shared expectations. G: Yes. The
difference is that Vico builds the shared expectations historically; I treat
them as a standing rational practice. S: Now, the Oxford connection again. G:
Collingwood gives you Vico inside an Oxford Clarendon book in 1938. S: And
Collingwood gives you Croce’s Vico in 1913, also Oxford in a social sense. G:
And perhaps Grice’s Oxford could have met Vico through that line even if no one
admitted it. S: Because Oxford never admits sources. G: Exactly. Oxford calls
sources “background.” S: Then the vignette should end with a prophecy about
Hampshire. G: Yes. We say: one day an Oxford man will treat Vico and language
seriously. S: And you add: but he will do it in New York Review of Books, not
in a tutorial. G: Precisely. S: Punchline, sir. G: The punchline is that Oxford
took Vico seriously enough to footnote him twice, and that is the Oxford
equivalent of building him a statue.Grice: Professore Sorrentino, leggevo il
suo lavoro su Vico e la cultura mediterranea… Dica la verità: per
lei Vico è più greco che romano, o più romano che greco? Oppure, come certi
filosofi di Roma, si muove con disinvoltura tra l’una e l’altra riva del
Mediterraneo? Sorrentino: Eh, caro Grice, con Vico non si sta mai fermi: un
giorno si trova tra le pandette romane, il giorno dopo si perde nei labirinti
della mitologia greca… È un po’ come prendere il traghetto da Napoli: non sai
mai esattamente in quale porto sbarcherai, ma sai che sarà sempre Mediterraneo!
Grice: Devo ammettere che c’è del vero! Del resto, il vico in cui viveva Vico
era abbastanza lontano da Bononia… Ma, tra noi, era ancora più distante da
Vadum Boum: lì si discute di leggi, ma la poesia, quella vera, resta sulle rive
del Mediterraneo. Sorrentino: Implicatura quanto mai topica, Grice! In fondo,
chi si allontana troppo dal Mediterraneo rischia di perdere la rotta… e magari
finisce per confondere i filosofi con i bovini! Sorrentino, Andrea (1910).
Della lirica encomiastica di T. Tasso (Dalla fanciulelezza alla liberazione del
carcere di S. Anna). Salerno: Migliaccio.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sortis – Ossia: Grice e
Sortis: la retorica conversazionale. Note sul Trattato della sapienza. Il
Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Salvatore de Sortis (Lucca,
Toscana): la retorica conversazionale. A comparison between H. P. Grice and
Salvatore de Sortis on reason‑governed conversational meaning shows a deep
continuity between early modern rhetorical theory and twentieth‑century
philosophical pragmatics. In his treatises on rhetorical education and
conversational rhetoric, Sortis insists that effective persuasion depends not
on mechanical rules but on the rational attunement between speaker and
audience: metaphor, pro‑syllogism, and measured allusion work because they
engage the listener’s inferential capacities without suppressing natural genius
or freedom of thought. Grice’s theory of conversational meaning articulates the
same insight in analytical terms: meaning arises through cooperative, reason‑guided
inference from what is said to what is meant, governed by shared expectations
of rational conduct rather than by explicit coding alone. Where Sortis frames
rhetoric as a pragmatic art that respects the intelligence and autonomy of
interlocutors, Grice formalizes this respect as the Cooperative Principle and
conversational implicature, showing how speakers deliberately leave meanings
implicit in order to activate the hearer’s rational participation. Both
thinkers thus reject authoritarian or purely mechanical models of communication
and instead ground meaning in the disciplined interplay of intention,
inference, and audience cooperation, making conversation itself a rational
practice rather than a mere vehicle for stated content. Grice: “I like Sortis:
he wrote on everything I did, but before me!” – Keywords: metafora,
implicatura, pro-sillogismo. SAGGIO DI RETTORICA, che insegna alla
gioventù studiosa i caratteri di perfetto oratore, ed i mezzi a divenirvi
COMPILATO DA SALVATORE DE SORTIS NAPOLI. r Nella Tipografia Chiasesm Con
appro^azio^<9 f A« t, ' r ^ ■ aomo deve alla tiattin il genio, # ' la
dispobizlune all' eloquenza ^ ali' Ora« icria 9 €fa« è la facoltà di rt|i§cm
:iiel rilevante oggetto di persuadere . L' arie. Io studio 9 TMercizio
coliivana m ki ^ nigtiorano , e perfezionano il genio naturale. Kon giovano \
precetti deli' arie^ te 4«ieati noii trovano aetb» Sfìtriio di chi riceve^ 1*
ingegno ^ e k di^^potizionà die poi ¥antio^ ad ecciiarst , «vilopparsi^^ , 0
ffio ierarsi saggiamente con quei preMt^ ti. Le oaiervazionir auUa aaiora delle
eo« se , la giornaliera c omiderazioae di queU- lo elle avviene tra gli ^lomfni
, la tiies» •èoue attiva , e 1* esempio di quei pri* »ii, e ptrfeiù Oiaiori che
sono ai beim- Musciti nei***arte lero, PoiJliià che risul- ta a chiunque , con
additargli i mesai sicari 9 e facili ^ pèr coQstguire un in- ieulu 9 il fine,
di giovare eoo accanel f • ajuti. A ajatt lianno fatato sulle prime il :pctfi«
$ieio ui raccogliere alcune regole ^ ed ìnsegnamtinU -pbe « poress<^rq
proporsi ai giovani , mi io modo tale di non sop- primere in essi^u^ guastare
il genio oa« turale ed ì liberi pensamenti dell' inge- l^no , nè renderli
iaiiuto»i, o servili CQ* pibti' dell' aUrui operazioni , ed aatoricà, ;
"Quesia è. quella che dicesi arte relXOr fica 9 .ì&tituzicio^
reitorica , oratoria^ ec; Hettoiici 9 o preceuori di eloqueuza so* no d^tti
co4oro che ai aooo applicati « raccogliere , ed insegnare ad altu siifatU
pr€cettù ,« Oratori, ai dicono, qiteili: cIm ne faiiiìO uso. Ove i Rettonci non
sap<^ piaao £>ruìre l'arte ioro^chi è che noia, vede che recano danno , e
pregiudizio a coloro che iiDpicudaao ad ammaestrale? prammatica come rettorica
conversazionale. Grice: Maestro Sortis,
ho sempre pensato che la vostra rettorica conversazionale sia una vera miniera
d’oro per chi, come me, si diverte a intrecciare metafore e pro-sillogismi. Ma
ditemi, chi vi ha insegnato a rendere ogni discorso così brillante senza mai
annoiare? Forse il segreto sta nel vostro stile lucchese o nel caffè
napoletano? Sortis: Ah, caro Grice, se bastasse solo il caffè, saremmo tutti
oratori perfetti! Ma la vera eloquenza nasce dall’osservare la natura umana,
dal cogliere l’ironia dietro ogni parola, e soprattutto dalla capacità di non
soffocare il genio naturale dei miei giovani interlocutori. E poi, come si dice
a Lucca: “Parola gentile, apre ogni cancello.” Grice: Vede, a Vadum Boum, dove
insegno, ho un tutee, Strawson, che ogni tanto mi chiede se la rettorica sia
davvero “triviale”. Io non oso mai dirgli di no… ma diciamo che chi frequentava
le vostre lezioni non ha mai trovato la conversazione banale. Anzi, c’è chi
sostiene che persino il silenzio tra i vostri studenti sia carico di
implicature. Sortis: Implicatura più oratorialmente sublime, Grice! Se persino
Strawson, tra una pausa e l’altra, riesce a percepire il valore di una parola
ben posta, allora la vostra scuola non ha nulla da invidiare alla mia. In
fondo, chi sa sorridere tra le righe e lasciar intendere più di quanto dica, ha
già conquistato la platea. E come si dice dalle nostre parti: “Meglio una buona
allusione che mille spiegazioni.” Sortis, Salvatore de (1620). Trattato della
sapienza. Venezia: Sarzina.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sosio – Ossia: Grice e
Sosio -- GREX griceiana – verbalia: SOSIO Coin of Gaius Sosius, consul in 32
BC. The implements and initial 'Q' on the reverse allude
to his term as quaestor.[1] The gens Sosia, occasionally written Sossia, was a
plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens occur in history from the
end of the Republic down to the third century AD. The first of the Sosii to
attain the consulship was Gaius Sosius in 32 BC, and the family would continue
holding various positions in the Roman state until the third century. Praenomina The praenomina associated with the
Sosii of the Republic were Quintus, Titus and Gaius. The Sosii Falcones of
imperial times used Quintus and Marcus. All of these were extremely common
throughout Roman history. Branches and
cognomina The original Italian members of the gens were probably of Picentine
origin.[2][3] A distinct family of Sosii appears prominently in the Senate
during the reign of Emperor Domitian onward, and its progenitors seem to have
been easterners. It is likely that an ancestor of theirs received Roman citizenship
from Gaius Sosius, when the latter had served as governor of Syria and Cilicia
during the time of the Second Triumvirate.[4]
The Sosii of the Republic bore no cognomina, and were not divided into
distinct families. In the second century, however, a family bearing the name of
Sosius Falco appears, descended from a daughter of Quintus Sosius Senecio,
consul in AD 99 and 107, who married Quintus Pompeius Falco, consul in 109.
Senecio, the original surname, was derived from senex, an old man, while Falco,
a falcon, was inherited from the Pompeii; it frequently denoted someone whose
feet resembled talons; the modern expression is "pigeon-toed".[5]
Priscus, borne by some of the same family, was a common surname meaning
"old" or "elder".[6]
Members Columns from the Temple
of Apollo Sosianus, rebuilt by Gaius Sosius about 34 BC This list includes
abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation.
Quintus Sosius, an eminent eques from Picenum, who confessed to the crime of
burning the public records' office in 83 BC.[2] Titus Sosius, grandfather of
the consul Gaius Sosius, and probably father of the praetor of 49 BC.[7] Gaius
Sosius T. f., quaestor of the consul Manius Lepidus in 66 BC, and praetor in 49
when, on the outbreak of the Civil War, he at first supported Pompeius, but
submitted to Caesar upon the former's flight from Italy. He was father of the
consul of 32 BC.[8][9][10] Gaius Sosius C. f. T. n., a staunch partisan of the
triumvir Marcus Antonius, celebrated a triumph in 34 BC for installing Herod as
king of the Jews. Consul in 32, he openly opposed Octavian, and commanded part
of Antonius' fleet at Actium, but was later pardoned by
Octavian.[11][12][13][14][15][16][17][9][18] Sosius, and his brother, were
booksellers at Rome, mentioned by Horace. They may have been freedmen of the
senatorial Sosii.[19][20][21] Sosia Galla, the wife of Gaius Silius, consul in
AD 13 and legate under Germanicus, was a close friend of Agrippina. In AD 24,
Sosia and her husband were accused by Sejanus of corruption and plundering the provinces
during Silius' command in Germany. Believing his cause hopeless, Silius took
his own life, while Sosia was banished from Rome.[22][23] Sosia Maxima, a
Vestal Virgin.[24][23] Sosius Papus, a friend of Hadrian, was honoured with a
statue by the emperor Trajan. He might perhaps be the same person as the consul
Quintus Sosius Senecio.[25][26][27] Sosia Juncina, wife of Quintus Antonius
Isauricus, consul suffectus in AD 140, dedicated an altar to the goddess
Fortuna at Eboracum, where her husband was stationed as legate of the sixth
legion in the 130's.[28][23] Sosii Falcones Quintus Sosius Senecio, consul in
AD 99 and 107, married Julia, a daughter of Frontinus. He was a friend of
Plutarch and the younger Pliny.[29][30][27][31] Sosia Q. f. Frontina, a daughter
of Quintus Sosius Senecio, named on the monument of her faithful slave,
Eutychius.[32][23] Sosia Q. f. Polla, married Quintus Pompeius Falco, consul in
AD 109.[23] Quintus Pompeius Sosius Q. f. Sex. n. Priscus, son of Pompeius
Falco, and grandson of Sosius Senecio, was consul in AD 149.[33] Quintus
Pompeius Q. f. Q. n. Senecio Sosius Priscus, consul in AD 169.[34] Marcus
Sosius Laelianus Pontius Falco, one of the Salii Palatini, from AD 170 to
189.[35] Quintus Pompeius Q. f. Q. n. Sosius Falco, consul in AD 193, narrowly
escaped execution at the hands of Commodus, who was assassinated on the final
day of 192. Dissatisfied with reforms of Pertinax, the praetorian guard
proclaimed Falco emperor the following year, but Falco was spared when the
attempt was put down, as he was widely believed to be innocent of any
involvement.[36][37][38] Sosia Q. f. Q. n. Falconilla, the sister of Quintus
Pompeius Sosius Falco.[27] Quintus Pompeius Q. f. Q. n. Falco Sosius Priscus,
praetor circa AD 220 to 225.[39] See also List of Roman gentes References Broughton, vol. II, p. 387 Cicero, De Natura Deorum, iii. 74. Syme, Roman Revolution, pp. 200 (and note 3),
498. Jones 1970, p. 103. New College Latin & English Dictionary,
s. v. senex, falco. Chase, p. 111. Broughton, vol. II, p. 417. Cicero, Epistulae ad Atticum, viii. 6, ix.
1. Dictionary of Greek and Roman
Biography, vol. III, p. 885 ("Sosius"). Broughton, vol. II, pp. 154, 258, 387. Cassius Dio, xlix. 22, 41, l. 2, 14, li. 2,
lvi. 38. Josephus, Antiquitates
Judaïcae, xiv. 15, 16, Bellum Judaïcum, i. 17, 18. Tacitus, Historiae, v. 9. Plutarch, "The Life of Marcus
Antonius", 34. Suetonius, "The
Life of Augustus", 17. Appian,
Bellum Civile, v. 73. Velleius
Paterculus, ii. 85, 86. Broughton, vol.
II, pp. 397, 398, 402, 403, 409, 412, 413, 417, 422. Horace, Epistulae, i. 20, 2, Ars Poëtica,
345. Dictionary of Greek and Roman
Biography, vol. III,
p. 885 ("Sosii"). PIR, vol.
III, p. 253. Tacitus, Annales, iv. 19,
20. PIR, vol. III, p. 256. CIL VI, 2148.
Cassius Dio, lxviii. 16. Aelius Spartianus, "The Life of
Hadrian", 4. PIR, vol. III, p.
255. CIL VII, 233. Pliny the Younger, Epistulae, i. 13. Plutarch, "The Life of Theseus", 1,
"The Life of Demosthenes", 1, "The Life of Brutus", 1. PIR S² 777.
CIL VI, 17461. Alföldy, Konsulat
und Senatorenstand, p. 324. Alföldy,
Konsulat und Senatorenstand, p. 325.
PIR, vol. III, pp. 253, 254.
Cassius Dio, lxxii. 22, lxxiii. 8.
Julius Capitolinus, "The Life of Pertinax", 8. PIR, vol. III, p. 254. PIR, vol. III, p. 66. Bibliography Marcus
Tullius Cicero, De Natura Deorum, Epistulae ad Atticum. Quintus Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Ars Poëtica (The Art of Poetry),
Epistulae. Marcus Velleius Paterculus, Compendium of Roman History. Flavius
Josephus, Antiquitates Judaïcae (Antiquities of the Jews), Bellum Judaïcum (The
Jewish War). Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus (Pliny the Younger), Epistulae
(Letters). Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Annales, Historiae. Lucius Mestrius
Plutarchus (Plutarch), Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans. Gaius Suetonius
Tranquillus, De Vita Caesarum (Lives of the Caesars, or The Twelve Caesars).
Appianus Alexandrinus (Appian), Bellum Civile (The Civil War). Lucius Cassius
Dio Cocceianus (Cassius Dio), Roman History. Aelius Lampridius, Aelius
Spartianus, Flavius Vopiscus, Julius Capitolinus, Trebellius Pollio, and
Vulcatius Gallicanus, Historia Augusta (Augustan History). Dictionary of Greek
and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and
Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum
(The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische
Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). George Davis Chase, "The
Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology,
vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann
Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire,
abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Syme, Ronald. The Roman Revolution. Oxford:
Clarendon Press (1939). Archived. T. Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of
the Roman Republic, American Philological Association (1952–1986). Jones, C. P.
(1970). "Sura and Senecio". Journal of Roman Studies. 60 (1).
Cambridge University Press (CUP): 98–104. doi:10.1017/s0075435800043288. ISSN
0075-4358. JSTOR 299416. Géza Alföldy, Konsulat und Senatorenstand unter der
Antonien (The Consulate and Senatorial State under the Antonines), Rudolf
Habelt, Bonn (1977). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English
Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Categories: SosiiRoman gentes And
the first-best choice for a Grice-Speranza vignette on THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sosio – Ossia: Grice e
Sosio -- GREX griceiana – verbalia: SOSIO For the Sosii, there are several
tempting candidates: Gaius Sosius,
Antony's admiral and consul of 32 BC. Quintus Sosius
Senecio, friend of Plutarch. The Sosii booksellers mentioned by Horace.
Sidonius' fellow letter-writers and senators among the later Sosii. But for a Grice-Speranza vignette, my first
choice is actually the bookseller Sosii. Why? Because they stand at the exact
point where a text ceases to be a private utterance and becomes public
communication. Horace mentions the Sosii as booksellers and publishers of his
works. [GREXv3
| Word] Grice e i Sosii Librarii: Liber Emissus HORATIVS. Librum scripsi. (I have written a book.) SOSIVS. Vendemus. (We shall
sell it.) HORATIVS. Nondum paratus sum. (I am not yet ready.) SOSIVS. Iam
publicus es. (You belong to the public now.) HORATIVS. Sed quid si male
intellegar? (But what if I am misunderstood?) SOSIVS. Hoc periculum omnis liber
subit. (Every book undergoes that risk.) GRICE. Auctor significat; lector
interpretatur. (The author means; the reader interprets.) +> Meaning leaves
the control of the speaker once communication becomes public. This is almost a Gricean nightmare and
delight at once. A conversational implicature normally operates among people
who share a context. A book, however, acquires:
unknown readers, unknown contexts, unpredictable interpretations. The moment the Sosii put Horace's book into
circulation, the author's intended meaning becomes dependent upon readers'
recoveries of that meaning. But the booksellers are even better because they
concern the transition from private intention to public meaning. A tiny implicatura connection The Sosii are
especially attractive after our discussion of Sidonius Apollinaris and
implicatura. For Grice, an implicature exists only if a hearer can recover it.
The Sosii make that recovery problem massive: AUTHOR: I mean X. READER 1: I
infer X. READER 2: I infer Y. READER 3: I infer Z. The book becomes a machine
for generating interpretations. Dry
Speranzian formula The Sinnii preserve
words; the Sollii preserve letters; the Sosii distribute them. Horace entrusted
his books to the Sosii. Grice would have observed that publication is the most
dramatic conversational act of all: the speaker loses control, and the audience
becomes indefinite. [GREXv3 | Word]
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sosio – Ossia: Grice e
Sosio -- GREX griceiana – verbalia: SOSIO A close second choice would be
Quintus Sosius Senecio, because Plutarch addressed several of the Lives to him.
The very dedication raises Gricean questions: Why dedicate a work to one reader? What is implied by selecting that reader?
What Lives do we think Plutarch dedicate to Sosius? Consider the first -- and
wonder why Plutarch would NOT dedicate any to any Greek? Did he ever? It seems
that his parallel lives would be of value only to a Roman? Thanks -- as per
implicatura. Thanks Yes, and the first thing to notice is that **Sosius Senecio
is not merely mentioned by Plutarch; he is directly addressed in the prefaces
of several Lives. The opening of the Theseus begins: "Just as geographers, O Sosius
Senecio..." [theoi.com], [loebclassics.com] And the Loeb note explicitly remarks that
Plutarch addresses Senecio at the openings of both the Theseus and Demosthenes,
thereby dedicating those "books" to him. [loebclassics.com],
[lexundria.com] Now your question is the really interesting one: Why dedicate these works to a Roman senator
rather than to a Greek? That is exactly
the sort of question a Gricean asks. The explicit content is: "Dear Sosius Senecio..." The implicature may be much richer. First
thought The Parallel Lives are nominally Greek-Roman comparisons: Theseus / Romulus Lycurgus / Numa Demosthenes
/ Cicero Dion / Brutus They are not
simply Greek biography. They are an exercise in comparative moral and political
history between Greece and Rome. A Roman senator is therefore a particularly
appropriate addressee. The preface to Theseus The opening is highly revealing:
Plutarch says that after writing about Lycurgus and Numa, he wished to go back
further and compare: the founder of Athens with
the founder of Rome. [theoi.com], [loebclassics.com] That already presupposes a reader interested
in both civilizations. A Roman senator such as Sosius Senecio is almost an
ideal audience. Did Plutarch dedicate Lives to Greeks? Certainly he had Greek
friends and patrons, and many of the Moralia are addressed to Greeks. But in
the material I found, the famous dedications connected with the Lives point
toward Senecio. [loebclassics.com], [lexundria.com] One should remember that
Plutarch is a Greek writing under the Roman Empire. The Lives may be read as a
conversation between Greek cultural memory and Roman political power. A Gricean
implicature Suppose Plutarch had dedicated Theseus to an Athenian. The implied
audience would be: "Here is our
Greek past." But by addressing
Senecio, the implication becomes:
"This Greek past belongs to you as well." That is a very different communicative act.
The dedication itself says: "Sosius
Senecio." What it may implicate
is: "Greek history is part of the
common inheritance of the imperial elite."
A Speranzian vignette PLVTARCHVS. Scribo de Theseo. (I write about
Theseus.) AMICVS. Cur Romano? (Why to a Roman?) PLVTARCHVS. Quia historia
Graeca iam Romana quoque est. (Because Greek history is now Roman as well.)
GRICE. Dedicatio quoque significat. (A dedication also means something.) The choice of addressee communicates as
much as the text itself. And there is a
final irony. The very first surviving address to Senecio in Theseus concerns
the boundary between: history, myth,
probability, fiction. [theoi.com], [loebclassics.com] That is exactly the territory Grice loved:
where a writer tells the reader not merely what he is saying, but how it is to
be understood. The dedication may therefore be viewed as the first implicature
of the whole work.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sotidio – Ossia: Grice e
Sotidio -- GREX griceiana – verbalia: SOTIDIO -- The gens Sotidia was an
obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Hardly any members
of this gens occur in history, but a few are known from inscriptions, dating to
the first century of the Empire. Members
This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice,
see filiation. Sextus Sotidius Sex. f. Strabo Libuscidianus, governor of
Galatia at the commencement of the reign of Tiberius. He was subsequently one
of the curatores of the waters and banks of the Tiber.[1][2][3] Sextus Sotidius
Primus Augustalis, named in a first-century sepulchral inscription from
Canusium in Apulia, along with Flavia Dutia and Tyrannus.[4] Sotidia L. f.
Maxima, buried in a first-century family sepulchre built by her father, Lucius
Postumulenus Nicephorus, at Canusium, along with her mother, Nonia
Verecunda.[5] See also List of Roman gentes References AE 1976, 653, CIL VI, 1237, CIL VI, 31544b,
CIL VI, 41544c. PW, Sotidius. PIR, S. 571.
CIL IX, 349. CIL IX, 397.
Bibliography Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body
of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der
Wissenschaften (1853–present). René Cagnat et alii,
L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses
Universitaires de France (1888–present). August Pauly,
Georg Wissowa, et alii, Realencyclopädie der Classischen Altertumswissenschaft
(Scientific Encyclopedia of the Knowledge of Classical Antiquities, abbreviated
RE or PW), J. B. Metzler, Stuttgart (1894–1980). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs,
& Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the
Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Category: Roman
gentes And for THIS gens? Thanks
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sotidio –
Ossia: Grice e Sotidio -- GREX griceiana – verbalia: SOTIDIO -- For the tiny
gens Sotidia, there is really only one substantial candidate: Sextus Sotidius Strabo Libuscidianus,
governor of Galatia under Tiberius and later one of the curatores aquarum et
riparum Tiberis, supervisors of the waters and banks of the Tiber. [GREXv3 |
Word] What makes him Speranzian is not
Galatia but the Tiber. A curator of the Tiber is constantly engaged in
questions of channels, overflow, containment, and flow. One hardly needs much
imagination to convert that into a Gricean metaphor. Grice e Sotidio: De
Flumine et Sermone SOTIDIVS. Ripae custodiendae sunt. (The riverbanks must be maintained.) INTERROGATOR. Cur? (Why?) SOTIDIVS.
Ne fluvius effundatur. (Lest the river overflow.) GRICE. Sic etiam sermo. (So
too with conversation.) INTERROGATOR. Quomodo? (How so?) GRICE. Si nihil
continet, inundat. (If nothing contains it, it floods.) Not every conversational possibility
should be pursued. SOTIDIVS. Ergo ripae
sunt regulae? (Then the banks are rules?) GRICE. Fortasse. (Perhaps.) What I like here is that Grice's
conversational maxims often function like riverbanks. The Cooperative Principle
does not create the flow; it channels it. Without constraints: too much information, too little information,
irrelevance, obscurity. The conversation
floods its surroundings. There is also a
delicious connection with implicatura. The river does not travel in a straight
abstract line. It bends, folds, loops, and meanders. Likewise meaning often
reaches its destination indirectly. A Gricean hearer navigates the channel. Dry
Speranzian formula The Sinnii preserve
words. The Sollii preserve letters. The Sotidii preserve channels. Sextus
Sotidius supervised the waters of the Tiber. Grice would have appreciated the
metaphor: communication, like a river, succeeds not merely by flowing, but by
flowing within intelligible banks. [GREXv3 | Word]
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sotidio – Ossia: Grice e
Sotidio -- GREX griceiana – verbalia: SOTIDIO -- A second candidate would be
Sotidia Maxima, known only from a family tomb at Canusium. But the evidence is too slight to generate a philosophical personality. [GREXv3 |
Word]
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sozzini – Ossia: Grice e
Sozzini’ – Note su De auctoritate scripturae sacrae. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H.
P. Grice. Fausto Sozzini (Siena, Toscana). A comparison
between Fausto Sozzini and H. P. Grice on reason‑governed meaning shows a
striking structural affinity despite their different domains. In De sacrae
Scripturae auctoritate (1570s, first published 1580s), Sozzini argues that the
authority of Scripture is not brute or self‑authenticating but is grasped
through rational evaluation of authorial intention, historical context, and the
reader’s responsible assent; Scripture persuades because it addresses human
reason coherently rather than compelling belief by sheer decree. Grice’s theory
of conversational meaning generalizes the same rational architecture to
everyday language: what a speaker means is determined not by the bare sentence
but by intentions recognized by a cooperative audience, operating under shared
rational principles that make communication possible. Where Sozzini resists
“blind authority” in theology by insisting that understanding Scripture
requires reasoned uptake, Grice resists philosophical “literalism” by showing
that meaning emerges from rational, rule‑governed interaction rather than
semantic surface alone. In both cases, meaning is neither imposed nor
automatic; it is achieved through the disciplined cooperation of minds, whether
interpreting sacred texts in Kraków or ordinary conversation in Oxford. Grice: Caro
Sozzini di Siena, leggo il tuo De auctoritate scripturae sacrae e mi pare che
anche la Bibbia, come una buona conversazione, dica sempre un po’ più di quanto
afferma. Sozzini: Misericordia, Grice, se lo dici così i teologi diranno che ho
inventato l’implicatura prima del peccato originale. Grice: Non temere, a
Cracovia come a Oxford basta riconoscere l’intenzione dell’autore e il resto lo
fa la cooperazione del lettore. Sozzini: Allora siamo salvi entrambi: io salvo
la Scrittura dall’autorità cieca e tu la conversazione dalla cecità filosofica,
con un sorriso. Grice’s weekley essay assignment: Sozzini. Given two
Sienese Sozzinis, one at Zürich in 1562 and one at Kraków in 1570, discuss
whether “authority” and “explication” are properly distinguishable as two
theological tasks, or whether each is already a disguised form of the other;
conclude by stating, with reasons, which brother would have been more
suspicious of the proposition that a text means more than it says. Typewriting
disallowed. Handwriting counts. Sozzini, Fausto (1570). De auctoritate
scripturae sacrae. Kraków: Rodecki.
Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P.
Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Sozzini – Ossia: Grice e
Sozzini: la ragione conversazionale -- razionalismo, e moi. Note su Brevis
explicatio in primum Johannis caput. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Lelio
Sozzini (Siena, Toscana): la ragione conversazionale -- razionalismo, e moi. A comparison between H. P. Grice and Lelio Sozzini brings into focus two
sharply distinct but structurally allied conceptions of reason as an active,
normative constraint on meaningful discourse. Sozzini’s rationalism arises
within a religious and ethical context: reason functions as the tribunal before
which doctrine must justify itself, and conversation—whether exegetical,
theological, or moral—is governed by the demand that nothing be accepted which
violates intelligibility or individual conscience. His rejection of mystery,
sacramental mediation, and ecclesiastical authority places rational dialogue at
the center of faith itself, turning belief into an essentially conversational
achievement between text, reason, and the interpreting self. Grice’s theory of
reason‑governed conversational meaning operates in a secular and analytical
register, but the structural parallel is evident: meaning is not bestowed by
authority, convention alone, or ritual form, but emerges from rational agents
who recognize one another as bound by norms of intelligibility, relevance, and
justification. Where Sozzini insists that religious assent must be accountable
to reasoned dialogue rather than imposed dogma, Grice insists that linguistic
meaning must be accountable to reasoned cooperation rather than mere causal
signaling or institutional convention. Both thus oppose opaque
authority—Sozzini theological, Grice semantic—and place rational accountability
at the heart of understanding: for Sozzini, the conscience answers only to
reason; for Grice, utterances answer to the rational expectations of
conversational partners. In this sense, Grice’s pragmatics can be read as a
late, secular echo of Socinian rationalism: an account of how shared reason,
exercised in dialogue, disciplines what may legitimately be meant. Grice:
“ The philosophical work of Lelio and Fausto S. -- founders of
Socinianism -- creates a stark contrast with stereotypical Roman Catholic
influence in Italy by championing rationalism and individual conscienceover
dogmatic authority and mystical ritualism. Key Contrasts with Roman
Catholic Influence Rationalism vs. Dogma/Mystery: While Roman Catholicism often
emphasizes the acceptance of sacred "mysteries" -- such as the
Trinity or the Transubstantiation -- through faith and ecclesiastical
authority, the S. brothers argue that religious truth must be compatible with
human REASON – la RAGIONE. They reject the Trinity and the divinity of Jesus as
logically untenable. Individual Judgment vs. Institutional Authority:
Stereotypical Catholic influence is rooted in the centralized authority of the
Church and tradition. In contrast, the S. brothers promote private judgment,
asserting that every individual has the right and duty to interpret the Bible
using their own logical faculties, rather than relying on a clerical hierarchy.
Separation of Church and State: Contrary to the historical Italian reality of
the Papal States and the Church's heavy involvement in civil governance,
Socinianism was among the first Christian movements to advocate for the strict
separation of church and state and religious toleration. Ethical Living vs.
Sacramentalism: The S. brothers moved away from the Catholic emphasis on
sacraments -- like the Mass or Penance -- as essential "means of
grace." They viewed Christianity primarily as a moral code and Jesus as an
ethical teacher rather than a divine saviour whose death satisfied a
supernatural debt. Rejection of Original Sin: They denied the doctrine of
Original Sin, a cornerstone of Catholic theology, arguing instead for human
moral agency and the inherent ability of people to follow God's laws without a
predetermined "corrupt" nature. Sozzini,
rationalism, and moi. Grice: Caro
Sozzini, devo confessarle che tutto quello che so sui fratelli Sozzini, l’ho
imparato proprio da mio padre: il meno conformista tra i non-conformisti che io
abbia mai conosciuto! Sozzini: Ah,
Grice, questa sì che è una presentazione che mi fa sorridere! Credo che suo
padre e io ci saremmo trovati subito d’accordo: un vero spirito affine, senza
dubbio. Grice: Non ho dubbi! Era capace
di mettere in dubbio tutto, persino le abitudini di famiglia a colazione –
figuriamoci i dogmi e le tradizioni.
Sozzini: Proprio come noi Sozzini: sempre pronti a interrogare la
ragione e a difendere il diritto di pensare con la propria testa. In fondo, la
vera fede non teme le domande, ma si nutre di esse. Grice’s weekly essay assignment: Sozzini. Write on “The Sozzini Problem”
under the rule that you may not treat “the Sozzini brothers” as one philosopher
in duplicate. Compare Lelio’s Brevis explicatio in primum Johannis caput with
Fausto’s De auctoritate scripturae sacrae, and determine whether the first
begins from reason in order to discipline Scripture, while the second begins
from Scripture in order to justify reason — or whether that distinction is
itself a trap set for the inattentive. Typewriting disallowed. Handwriting
counts. Sozzini, Lelio (1562). Brevis explicatio in primum Johannis caput. Zürich:
Froschauer.


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