H. P. Grice and J. L. Speranza

 G.: This Pandullo—“ragionata”—you winced. S.: I did. It sounds like an Italianism for “raisonnée,” and I cannot imagine Cicero tolerating a past participle of rationari so cheerfully paraded in a title. G.: Why shouldn’t he? S.: Because it smells of schoolroom Latin gone feral. G.: My dear S., who reasons grammar? S.: The grammarian, I suppose. G.: Not at all. The speaker. S.: The speaker hardly knows he is doing it. G.: Precisely. Which is why when he does it well, we call the result “ragionata,” whether Cicero approves or not. S.: You are letting the Italians off lightly. G.: I am letting language off heavily. If the utterer is apt—cfr. O. P. Wood on the force of linguistic rules—he produces a system that is, if not rational, at least reasoned. S.: And if he is not apt? G.: Then he produces Pandullo badly. S.: So “ragionata” is a compliment to the speaker. G.: Or a hope. S.: A hope masquerading as a participle. G.: All grammar is hope masquerading as necessity. S.: That is almos...

 G.: The Accademia dei Lincei meets annually, very solemnly, under the sign of the lynx. S.: Yes, and Rome manages it without the animals attending. G.: Which already answers your zoological objection to London. S.: Not entirely. Why should London fail where Rome succeeds? G.: Three reasons, if you insist on classification: philosophical, urban, zoological. S.: Begin with the philosophical. You always prefer that. G.: London distrusts essences. “Lynx” there is either a zoological specimen or a metaphor for acuity. Rome permits a third: an emblem. S.: So “lynx” in Rome is not merely a noun but a program. G.: Precisely. A nomen substantivum elevated into a badge of intellectual virtue. One sees sharply, therefore one is a linceo. S.: Whereas in London one would be accused of category-mistake. G.: Or worse, of affectation. S.: So the philosophical reason is that London refuses to let a term migrate from zoology to epistemology. G.: Without protest, yes. It demands an argument; Rome ac...

 G.: Panigarola again. S.: You mean the man who thinks eloquence comes stamped “Italian.” G.: Precisely. As though Cicero required a passport. S.: He might have enjoyed one, if only to exclude the Gauls. G.: Quite. But Panigarola’s title is already doing the work: “eloquenza italiana.” Not argument, but suggestion. S.: A national implicature. G.: Exactly. He does not say “Italians are more eloquent.” He lets you supply it. S.: And we do, out of politeness. G.: Or laziness. The two are not always distinguishable. S.: So what is “eloquenza italiana,” then. G.: A way of speaking that pretends to be natural while being meticulously trained. S.: Like your tutorials. G.: Less honest, I should hope. S.: And “eloquenza inglese.” G.: That is easier. It consists largely in not saying what one means. S.: Then we are already masters. G.: Indeed. The Englishman implies; the Italian declares and then implies that he has not declared. S.: That sounds exhausting. G.: It is. Which is why they have ...

G.: Pansa again. M.: Not merely “Pansa,” if you please. S.: Oh, come now—Pansa will do. Saves ink. G.: Ink is cheap; nomenclature is not. It is Gaius Vibius Pansa Caetronianus. M.: Quite right. Mr. Shropshire, you have amputated half the man. S.: I’ve spared the reader. G.: You have deprived him of his adoption. M.: Explain. G.: “Vibius” marks the gens Vibia, his original family. “Caetronianus” signals adoption into the Caetronii. S.: Then he ought to pick one and be done with it. G.: Rome does not do “being done.” It does accumulation. M.: Precisely. Adoption in Rome is not erasure but addition. S.: Addition? Looks like clutter. G.: It is curated clutter. The adoptee keeps a trace of origin and signals the new allegiance. M.: And the suffix “-ianus” is the polite way of saying “formerly of.” S.: Formerly of, currently verbose. G.: Formerly Vibius, now Caetronianus by adoption, yet still Vibius by memory. M.: Mr. Shropshire, give the full style. S.: Gaius… Vibius… Pansa… Caetronianus. ...

 G.: You have been reading that Milanese volume again. S.: One cannot avoid it; it stares at one from every shelf: il pensiero di someone. G.: A dreadful construction. It implies that the man has stopped thinking and been embalmed. S.: Milano seems fond of embalming. G.: I should not say so. They prefer continuity. S.: Which is precisely what Oxford lacks. G.: On the contrary, Oxford has continuity of a different kind. S.: The kind that consists in refuting one’s predecessor. G.: A perfectly respectable form of homage. S.: You call it homage; I call it treachery. G.: Only if you expect agreement to be the mark of fidelity. S.: Banfi would not have liked it. G.: Banfi might have enjoyed it. He was, after all, concerned with problems, not statues. S.: And what were his problems. G.: The usual ones, but taken seriously: the relation between knowledge and history, between form and life, between aesthetic experience and rational structure. S.: That sounds very Milanese. G.: It sounds ph...

 G.: We begin, then, with Cicero’s complaint. M.: Indeed. He writes to Papirius Paetus and takes him to task for what he calls verba turpia. S.: I like him already. G.: You would. M.: Mr Shropshire, you will supply the offending utterance. S.: Sir, d’you mean summat like, “’Ere now, tha talks a right load o’ rot, tha does”? M.: That will do as a specimen. Brief, if not quite gracious. G.: Nor quite Ciceronian. M.: Mr Grice, you will translate this into a Latin Cicero might tolerate. G.: I shall attempt to civilise it. Perhaps: “Nimis inepta loqueris.” S.: That sounds like it’s wearin’ a waistcoat. G.: Cicero insists upon waistcoats. M.: Again, Mr Shropshire. S.: “By gum, tha’s a daft un, an’ no mistake.” M.: Mr Grice. G.: “Valde stultus es.” S.: Short and sharp. G.: Cicero liked concision when it was his. M.: Let us sharpen the point. Suppose Paetus had said something less merely abusive. S.: “Tha knaws nowt, man, nowt at all.” G.: “Nihil omnino scis.” M.: Better. Now, why should C...

 G.: Parente again, and his febbre gialla. S.: You are taking a peculiar interest in it. G.: Entirely because of “Those spots mean measles.” S.: You suspect a parallel. G.: Or a confusion. “Febbre gialla” looks like a predicate misapplied. The fever is not, strictly, yellow. S.: The patient is. G.: Precisely. The yellowness attaches to the jaundice, not to the fever as such. S.: So a metonym. G.: Or a loose sign-label. The symptom lends its adjective to the disease. S.: Then we should rewrite. G.: Yes. x are symptoms, y is that he has yellow fever, z is the addressee. S(x,p,z). S.: Where p is always propositional. G.: Always. “He has yellow fever,” not “yellow fever” as a mere label. S.: Then Parente, as physician, sees x. G.: Exactly. Spots, discoloration, fever, perhaps hemorrhagic signs. S.: And infers p. G.: Yes. From x to p by a causal route. S.: That is natural meaning. G.: Entirely. The symptoms mean that he has yellow fever. S.: But you dislike “mean.” G.: I prefer signat. ...

 G.: Pareyson again. S.: And existence. G.: Yes, though one suspects the word is doing more work than the Latin will tolerate. S.: You mean existere. G.: I do. Let us begin modestly. A est. S.: The copula, unambitious and sufficient. G.: Precisely. Now Pareyson wishes to say more. S.: A existit. G.: And one asks: what more has been said. S.: That A stands out, emerges. G.: That is the etymological temptation: ex-istere, to stand forth. S.: Ex stare, rather than merely esse. G.: Yes, though Cicero does not seem to have felt deprived by est. S.: Nor did Caesar. G.: Nor any Roman general, which may be why they conquered the world without existentialism. S.: You are unfair. G.: I am precise. Latin already has est. Why does it need existit. S.: To mark actuality perhaps, as opposed to mere predication. G.: Then we must distinguish. A est B. S.: Predication. G.: A existit. S.: Assertion of being in a fuller sense. G.: Fuller or merely inflated. S.: Pareyson would not accept the latter. G...

 G.: Sir has set Horace again. M.: Not “again,” Grice. Always. “Aut prodesse volunt aut delectare poetae.” S.: “Poets wish either to benefit or to delight.” G.: Or to do both, which is the implicature Sir prefers. M.: Quite so. Horace rarely states the conjunction; he leaves you to supply it. S.: Then the lesson is not merely Latin, but inference. G.: Yes, Sir is training us to notice what is meant beyond what is said. M.: If you like. Though I should be content if you noticed what is said. S.: Why Horace, though, at Clifton? M.: Because Horace is safe. He forms the mind without inflaming it. “Est modus in rebus.” S.: “There is a measure in things.” G.: That is practically a curriculum in three words. M.: And a gentleman in four. You will learn proportion before enthusiasm. S.: It sounds like moral instruction disguised as metre. G.: Or metre disguised as moral instruction. M.: Translate first, Grice. G.: “There is a limit, there are fixed bounds beyond which and short of which rig...

  Grice e Parrini Do not insert anything in text -- do not use italic, bold or bulleting and let us keep English as our meta-language. Speranza has a Parrini. Is there evidence that Parrini is an Italian philosopher? Yes. There is clear, independent evidence that “Parrini” can refer to an Italian philosopher—specifically Paolo Parrini. From external scholarly and encyclopedic sources: Paolo Parrini (1943–2020) is explicitly identified as an Italian philosopher.  He held the chair of Filosofia teoretica at the University of Florence and was active in major philosophical institutions.  He worked in epistemology, philosophy of science, and analytic philosophy, and contributed to debates on realism, a priori knowledge, and logical empiricism.  Independent confirmation (Treccani) likewise classifies him directly as a filosofo italiano with work in epistemology, ontology, and metaphysics. [it.wikipedia.org] [treccani.it] So, as a matter of evidence: yes, “Parrini” is a bon...

 G.: So, Passavanti again. S.: With medals enough to make a corridor clink. G.: Yes, and very likely shot at not by Germans in the immediate sense, but by Austro-Hungarians on the Italian front. S.: Which raises the language question. G.: Naturally. “Austro-Hungarian” is political before it is philological. S.: So not all those bullets came speaking German. G.: Quite. The Austro-Hungarian army was a Babel in uniform. German was important, especially among officers and as command language, but the ranks contained all sorts: Hungarians, Czechs, Poles, Ruthenes, Slovenes, Croats, Italians from the empire’s own disputed margins, and others besides. [en.wikipedia.org], [scilog.fwf.ac.at] S.: So the shot that wounded Passavanti might have been fired by someone speaking German, or Czech, or Hungarian, or Slovene. G.: Exactly. The bullet itself was more consistent linguistically than the empire that launched it. S.: Dry enough already. G.: It is a dry subject. Then there is the alliance qu...

  Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘Grice e Passini: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale. Passini: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale. Grice: Passini, mi incuriosisce il modo in cui la ragione conversazionale si intreccia con le tue metafore. Ma dimmi: se ti trovassi davanti a un cavaliere perduto, quale implicatura conversazionale useresti per ritrovarlo? Passini: Grice, la vera implicatura sarebbe quella di chiedere al cavaliere se ha perso la strada o soltanto la voglia di cercarla! Spesso, tra genus e species, la conversazione serve più a confondere che a chiarire. Grice: Allora potremmo dire che, in fondo, ogni conversazione è come un viaggio in incognito: si parte per cercare risposte, ma si finisce col collezionare domande. E tu, Passini, preferisci la meta o il percorso? Passini: Grice, io scelgo sempre il percorso! La meta è solo una scusa per raccontare storie e inventare metafore, come il sale nello stufato: senza, tutto sarebbe ins...

  Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘Grice e Pasqualini: la ragione conversazionale e l’mplicatura conversazionale. M. Pasqualini, C. Pasqualini. Pasqualini: la ragione conversazionale e l’mplicatura conversazionale. M. Pasqualini, C. Pasqualini. Grice: Pasqualini, mi dicono che tu maneggi la ragione conversazionale come un prestigiatore con le carte. Ma dimmi, hai mai fatto sparire una implicatura davanti agli occhi increduli di un pubblico? Pasqualini: Grice, se la implicatura fosse davvero un trucco, allora ogni conversazione sarebbe uno spettacolo di magia. Ma in realtà, le implicature non spariscono: si nascondono nei sottintesi, proprio come le olive sotto l’insalata! Grice: Ah, quindi basta scavare un po’ e si trova sempre qualcosa di gustoso sotto la superficie! Ma allora, Pasqualini, quante volte hai trovato una perla nascosta mentre tutti cercavano solo il guscio? Pasqualini: Grice, più che perle, spesso trovo noccioline: piccole, ma croccanti! La conversazione, alla fine, è come ...

  Catalogue Raisonné of J. L. Speranza’s Publications – H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: PE   Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘Grice e Peano: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale, il deutero-esperanto di Grice, formalisti ed informalisti, modernisti e neotradizionalisti, e la riforma della lingua d’Italia. Citato da Croce nella “Logica, o della sicenza del concetto”.   Giuseppe Peano (Spinetta di Cuneo, Piemonte): la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale, il deutero-esperanto di Grice, formalisti ed informalisti, modernisti e neotradizionalisti, e la riforma della lingua d’Italia. Grice’s theory of reason-governed conversational meaning locates intelligibility in the rational practice of talk: what a speaker means is often underdetermined by what is said, and hearers bridge the gap by assuming cooperation and applying defeasible norms of relevance, sufficiency, and perspicuity to derive implicatures that are,...