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Rachel Carson, indignant and frustrated at an aggressive application of parathion, informs her readers of parathion’s deleterious effects and ultimately calls her readers and herself to task for their and her oblivion to the application’s deadly effects.
Carson begins her selection with powerfully blunt diction, “habit of killing.” In addition to this gory diction, Carson implies that this “killing” was not even justified. In fact, she informs her audience, between dashes, which in themselves telegraph a dramatic statement, that this “killing” was a response to a mere “annoy[ance]” and “inconvenience.” Carson further emphasizes the reckless nature of this “deadly” parathion application by confirming that its purpose was to “control” “distasteful” birds, almost as one would use a semi-automatic weapon to obliterate a piece of limp lettuce from a gourmand’s dinner plate.
In addition to sounding the alarm with warlike diction and accusations of insufficient cause, Carson informs her readers of this poisonous plague with an impressive array of facts, which only bolsters her ethos with her readers. For example, Carson shores up her sense of alarm by citing the “serious concern” of the Fish and Wildlife Service and provides her likely horrified readers with a “casualty list” of some “65,000” birds. With the mention of this number, Carson quantifies the enormous scope of this “killing by poison,” and compels the readers to visualize pile upon pile of dead birds, not unlike the photos of mass graves dug by the Nazis during WWII. To intensify the implication of cruelty, Carson reiterates that this mass murdering was unnecessary, as the farmers’ plight could have been “solved easily by a slight change in agricultural practice” (emphasis added).
Carson relentlessly continues, as some of her readers may not be alarmed by avian deaths and thus not yet convinced of her argument that parathion is profoundly toxic. Accordingly, Carson notes that in addition to the death of “65,000” birds, “rabbits or raccoons or opossums” (emphasis added) have been “doomed” by the application of parathion. Carson’s use of the polysyndeton in the foregoing phrase seems to make the list of animals injured endless and plodding, as well as implying that the animals’ deaths were numerous and slow and painful.
But what if certain readers are not animal lovers and thus not moved by Carson’s reportage? To tighten the net around potential supporters who may not be fervent animal lovers, Carson describes human “workers handling foliage … [who] collapsed and went into shock” once in contact with parathion. Carson hits even closer to home by mentioning the parathion poisoning of “boys who roam through woods or fields,” boys like the readers’ sons or brothers, “innocent strollers” who do not deserve to suffer for their “search for unspoiled nature.” As the poisonous fumes waft ever so close to homesteads and loved ones, how can the readers not be disturbed by the “needless war” against life caused by parathion dumping?
Once Carson has thoroughly riled her readers, she shifts her tone to hold them accountable in the last paragraph. First, Carson engages her audience with a series of questions. Carson uses a simile to make the abstract concept of the ramifications of poisoning more concrete (“this ever-widening wave of death”), for who has not thrown a pebble into a pond and gazed at the ripples? Carson’s questions then become more pointed until the point – again dramatized by dashes (“who has the right to decide”) – that she accuses the bad actors of seizing or usurping power to sanitize but destroy nature (“a sterile world ungraced”). Carson’s last sentence is the clincher, however, for it is then that the readers realize that they are likely among the “millions” asleep and unaware as this ecological mayhem occurred and that it is vital, even “imperative” that the populace act swiftly and vigilantly to help safeguard our planet. Feeling such guilt at the proof of past inaction, what citizen would not be moved to support Carson’s cause?
Rhetorical Analysis – Rachel Carson – Metacognitive style
Before I begin a rhetorical analysis, I remind myself that rhetoric is persuasive speech. I also picture our old favorite, the rhetorical triangle, which looks something like this:
Therefore I know that the speaker, the speaker’s audience, and the speaker’s purpose are all related and that everything I write about should relate to how the speaker persuades the audience to agree with him, which is his purpose.
After this reminder, I read the prompt. I then bracket the task that I am asked to perform. This task is two-fold. First I am asked to “define the central argument of the passage,” which is just a fancy way of saying “identify the author’s purpose.” Then I am asked to “analyze the rhetorical strategies that Carson uses.” No problem – here goes my first paragraph, which MUST state the author’s purpose. My first paragraph may be only one sentence.
Rachel Carson, indignant and frustrated at an aggressive application of parathion, informs her readers of parathion’s deleterious effects and ultimately calls her readers and herself to task for their and her oblivion to the application’s deadly effects.
Next, I am going to discuss the salient (relevant) aspects of Carson’s piece from beginning to end. I know that I don’t have time to discuss all of Carson’s rhetorical strategies, so I will choose the ones that I can clearly link to Carson’s purpose. If I can’t think of anything else, I know that I can always discuss diction, the author’s choice of words, as long as I am careful to describe the type of diction the author uses. (No naked diction!). I also know that the first time I mention the author I will use her first and last name. From then on, I will refer to her by her surname (last name) only. I will describe what the author does in present tense and embed quotes to express myself as specifically as possible.
Carson (surname only) begins (present tense) her selection with powerfully blunt diction (no naked diction!), “habit of killing.” (I embed portions of text into my comments.) In addition to this gory diction, (I use transitions to lead your reader from one thought to another) Carson implies that this “killing” was not even justified. In fact, she informs her audience, between dashes, which in themselves telegraph a dramatic statement (drama dashes equal), that this “killing” was a response to a mere “annoy[ance]”(I place brackets around any portion of the quote I amend.) and “inconvenience.” Carson further emphasizes the reckless nature of this “deadly” parathion application by confirming that its purpose was to “control” “distasteful” birds, almost as one would use a semi-automatic weapon to obliterate a piece of limp lettuce from a gourmand’s dinner plate. (To inject a bit of voice into my analysis, I will use figurative language, albeit judiciously.)
In addition to sounding the alarm with warlike diction and accusations of insufficient cause, Carson informs her readers of this poisonous plague with an impressive array of facts, which only bolsters her ethos with her readers. (If in doubt, think about ethos, pathos, and logos. If I forget these terms, I may use the words credibility, emotional appeal, and logic or facts or statistics.) For example, Carson shores up her sense of alarm by citing the “serious concern” of the Fish and Wildlife Service and provides her likely horrified readers with a “casualty list” of some “65,000” birds. With the mention of this number, Carson quantifies the enormous scope of this “killing by poison,” and compels the readers to visualize pile upon pile of dead birds, not unlike the photos of mass graves dug by the Nazis during WWII. (I don’t want to go too far off topic, but I can use what I know to make my point and give my analysis a bit of context.) To intensify the implication of cruelty, Carson reiterates that this mass murdering was unnecessary, as the farmers’ plight could have been “solved easily by a slight change in agricultural practice” (emphasis added). (In order to quickly convey my opinion that certain words in this quote are more critical than others, I simply end my quote with a parenthetical “emphasis added.”)
Carson relentlessly continues, as some of her readers may not be alarmed by avian deaths and thus not yet convinced of her argument that parathion is profoundly toxic. Accordingly, Carson notes that in addition to the death of “65,000” birds, “rabbits or raccoons or opossums” (emphasis added) have been “doomed” by the application of parathion. Carson’s use of the polysyndeton in the foregoing phrase seems to make the list of animals injured endless and plodding, as well as implying that the animals’ deaths were numerous and slow and painful. (If I can’t remember the term “polysyndeton,” I will simply write “Carson’s repetition of the conjunction “’or.’” However, I will learn to spell “repetition” correctlyJ.)
But what if certain readers are not animal lovers and thus not moved by Carson’s reportage? To tighten the net around potential supporters who may not be fervent animal lovers, Carson describes human “workers handling foliage … [who] collapsed and went into shock” once in contact with parathion. Carson hits even closer to home by mentioning the parathion poisoning of “boys who roam through woods or fields,” boys like the readers’ sons or brothers, “innocent strollers” who do not deserve to suffer for their “search for unspoiled nature.” As the poisonous fumes waft ever so close to homesteads and loved ones, how can the readers not be disturbed by the “needless war” against life caused by parathion dumping? (Just as Carson does, I add a question of my own to engage my reader.)
Once Carson has thoroughly riled her readers, she shifts her tone to hold them accountable in the last paragraph. (AP readers love to see a student notice a shift in tone or approach.) First, Carson engages her audience with a series of questions. Carson uses a simile to make the abstract concept of the ramifications of poisoning more concrete (“this ever-widening wave of death”), for who has not thrown a pebble into a pond and gazed at the ripples? (If I can’t remember the word “simile,” I will write “figurative language” or “comparison.” The important thing to remember is that figurative language or comparisons often help a reader see an abstract concept in concrete images, which helps an author achieve her purpose.) Carson’s questions become more pointed until the point – again dramatized by dashes (“who has the right to decide”) – that she accuses the bad actors of seizing or usurping power to sanitize but destroy nature (“a sterile world ungraced”). (I am getting tired and running out of time. Therefore, instead of embedding this last quote, I stuck it in parentheses at the end of my sentence – better than nothing.) Carson’s last sentence is the clincher, however, for it is then that the readers realize that they are likely among the “millions” asleep and unaware as this ecological mayhem occurred and that it is vital, even “imperative” that the populace act swiftly and vigilantly to help safeguard our planet. Feeling such guilt at the proof of past inaction, what citizen would not be moved to support Carson’s cause?
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