Aristotle, Rhetoric
Anger may be defined as an impulse, accompanied by pain, to
a conspicuous revenge for a conspicuous slight directed without justification
towards what concerns oneself or towards what concerns one's friends. If this
is a proper definition of anger, it must always be felt towards some particular
individual, e.g. Cleon, and not "man" in general. [1378b] It must be
felt because the other has done or intended to do something to him or one of
his friends. It must always be attended by a certain pleasure -- that which
arises from the expectation of revenge. For since nobody aims at what he thinks
he cannot attain, the angry man is aiming at what he can attain, and the belief
that you will attain your aim is pleasant. Hence it has been well said about
wrath,
Sweeter it is by far than the honeycomb dripping with
sweetness,
And spreads through the hearts of men.
It is also attended by a certain pleasure because the
thoughts dwell upon the act of vengeance, and the images then called up cause
pleasure, like the images called up in dreams.
Now slighting is the actively entertained opinion of
something as obviously of no importance. We think bad things, as well as good
ones, have serious importance; and we think the same of anything that tends to
produce such things, while those which have little or no such tendency we
consider unimportant. There are three kinds of slighting -- contempt, spite,
and insolence. (1) Contempt is one kind of slighting: you feel contempt for
what you consider unimportant, and it is just such things that you slight. (2)
Spite is another kind; it is a thwarting another man's wishes, not to get
something yourself but to prevent his getting it. The slight arises just from
the fact that you do not aim at something for yourself: clearly you do not think
that he can do you harm, for then you would be afraid of him instead of
slighting him, nor yet that he can do you any good worth mentioning, for then
you would be anxious to make friends with him. (3) Insolence is also a form of
slighting, since it consists in doing and saying things that cause shame to the
victim, not in order that anything may happen to yourself, or because anything
has happened to yourself, but simply for the pleasure involved. (Retaliation is
not "insolence," but vengeance.) The cause of the pleasure thus
enjoyed by the insolent man is that he thinks himself greatly superior to
others when ill-treating them. That is why youths and rich men are insolent;
they think themselves superior when they show insolence. One sort of insolence
is to rob people of the honour due to them; you certainly slight them thus; for
it is the unimportant, for good or evil, that has no honour paid to it. So
Achilles says in anger:
He hath taken my prize for himself and hath done me
dishonour,
and
Like an alien honoured by none,
meaning that this is why he is angry. A man expects to be
specially respected by his inferiors in birth, in capacity, in goodness,
[1379a] and generally in anything in which he is much their superior: as where
money is concerned a wealthy man looks for respect from a poor man; where
speaking is concerned, the man with a turn for oratory looks for respect from
one who cannot speak; the ruler demands the respect of the ruled, and the man
who thinks he ought to be a ruler demands the respect of the man whom he thinks
he ought to be ruling. Hence it has been said
Great is the wrath of kings, whose father is Zeus almighty,
and
Yea, but his rancour abideth long afterward also,
their great resentment being due to their great superiority.
Then again a man looks for respect from those who he thinks owe him good
treatment, and these are the people whom he has treated or is treating well, or
means or has meant to treat well, either himself, or through his friends, or
through others at his request.
It will be plain by now, from what has been said, (1) in
what frame of mind, (2) with what persons, and (3) on what grounds people grow
angry. (1) The frame of mind is that of one in which any pain is being felt. In
that condition, a man is always aiming at something. Whether, then, another man
opposes him either directly in any way, as by preventing him from drinking when
he is thirsty, or indirectly, the act appears to him just the same; whether
some one works against him, or fails to work with him, or otherwise vexes him
while he is in this mood, he is equally angry in all these cases. Hence people
who are afflicted by sickness or poverty or love or thirst or any other
unsatisfied desires are prone to anger and easily roused: especially against
those who slight their present distress. Thus a sick man is angered by
disregard of his illness, a poor man by disregard of his poverty, a man aging
war by disregard of the war he is waging, a lover by disregard of his love, and
so throughout, any other sort of slight being enough if special slights are
wanting. Each man is predisposed, by the emotion now controlling him, to his
own particular anger. Further, we are angered if we happen to be expecting a
contrary result: for a quite unexpected evil is specially painful, just as the
quite unexpected fulfilment of our wishes is specially pleasant. Hence it is
plain what seasons, times, conditions, and periods of life tend to stir men
easily to anger, and where and when this will happen; and it is plain that the
more we are under these conditions the more easily we are stirred.
These, then, are the frames of mind in which men are easily
stirred to anger. The persons with whom we get angry are those who laugh, mock,
or jeer at us, for such conduct is insolent. Also those who inflict injuries
upon us that are marks of insolence. These injuries must be such as are neither
retaliatory nor profitable to the doers: for only then will they be felt to be
due to insolence. Also those who speak ill of us, and show contempt for us, in
connexion with the things we ourselves most care about: thus those who are
eager to win fame as philosophers get angry with those who show contempt for
their philosophy; those who pride themselves upon their appearance get angry
with those who show contempt for their appearance and so on in other cases. We
feel particularly angry on this account if we suspect that we are in fact, or
that people think we are, lacking completely or to any effective extent in the
qualities in question. [1379b] For when we are convinced that we excel in the
qualities for which we are jeered at, we can ignore the jeering. Again, we are
angrier with our friends than with other people, since we feel that our friends
ought to treat us well and not badly. We are angry with those who have usually
treated us with honour or regard, if a change comes and they behave to us
otherwise: for we think that they feel contempt for us, or they would still be
behaving as they did before. And with those who do not return our kindnesses or
fail to return them adequately, and with those who oppose us though they are
our inferiors: for all such persons seem to feel contempt for us; those who
oppose us seem to think us inferior to themselves, and those who do not return
our kindnesses seem to think that those kindnesses were conferred by inferiors.
And we feel particularly angry with men of no account at all, if they slight
us. For, by our hypothesis, the anger caused by the slight is felt towards
people who are not justified in slighting us, and our inferiors are not thus
justified. Again, we feel angry with friends if they do not speak well of us or
treat us well; and still more, if they do the contrary; or if they do not
perceive our needs, which is why Plexippus is angry with Meleager in Antiphon's
play; for this want of perception shows that they are slighting us -- we do not
fail to perceive the needs of those for whom we care. Again we are angry with
those who rejoice at our misfortunes or simply keep cheerful in the midst of
our misfortunes, since this shows that they either hate us or are slighting us.
Also with those who are indifferent to the pain they give us: this is why we
get angry with bringers of bad news. And with those who listen to stories about
us or keep on looking at our weaknesses; this seems like either slighting us or
hating us; for those who love us share in all our distresses and it must
distress any one to keep on looking at his own weaknesses. Further, with those
who slight us before five classes of people: namely, (1) our rivals, (2) those
whom we admire, (3) those whom we wish to admire us, (4) those for whom we feel
reverence, (5) those who feel reverence for us: if any one slights us before
such persons, we feel particularly angry. Again, we feel angry with those who
slight us in connexion with what we are as honourable men bound to champion --
our parents, children, wives, or subjects. And with those who do not return a
favour, since such a slight is unjustifiable. Also with those who reply with
humorous levity when we are speaking seriously, for such behaviour indicates
contempt. And with those who treat us less well than they treat everybody else;
it is another mark of contempt that they should think we do not deserve what
every one else deserves. Forgetfulness, too, causes anger, as when our own
names are forgotten, trifling as this may be; since forgetfulness is felt to be
another sign that we are being slighted; it is due to negligence, and to
neglect us is to slight us.
[1380a] The persons with whom we feel anger, the frame of mind in which we feel it, and the reasons why we feel it, have now all been set forth. Clearly the orator will have to speak so as to bring his hearers into a frame of mind that will dispose them to anger, and to represent his adversaries as open to such charges and possessed of such qualities as do make people angry.