One of the most surprising characteristics of rhetoric is its ubiquity.

When defined as symbols

used to persuade social action, examples that first come to mind to the layman are political
speeches, legal arguments, adverts and other materials with an obvious intent to persuade the
audience. However rhetoric is utilized in a wide range of mediums and perhaps none more deftly
than its utilization in narratives. Great works of literature often encode an obvious value system
or a moral warning whether its communism in Orwells Animal Farm or social isolation in
Dostoevskys Crime and Punishment. However less obvious examples abound. The Netflix
television series Aquarius starring David Duchovny is at first glance a formulaic crime series
with a twist (set in 1960s California) however further inspection reveals a detailed work of
rhetoric worthy of Bakhtins narrative analysis of Dostoevsky.

For a short synopsis, consider that Aquarius is a 1960s California crime drama that centers on the
infamous American serial killer Charles Manson. Manson, famous for inciting a group of young
female followers to commit a gruesome series of murders, is a constant villain throughout the
drama as a prominent political family loses their only daughter, Emma, to his cult. They in turn
enlist police detective Sam Hodiak (Duchovny) to bring her back. Meanwhile the moral turpitude
of the free love movement, the ravages of alcohol and drug addiction, the ethics of the Vietnam
war, sexism in the workplace, the private embarrassment of homosexuality, racism in suburban
life and the abuses of a police state play prominent roles, and in turn, targets of change via
rhetoric.

It is immediately obvious that context and situation play prominently in the rhetoric of the
Aquarius. As a modern work, the typical audience member is separated by at least a generation

from the accounts and depictions presented. More specifically, the social conventions of the
hippie movement centered on communes in wooded areas where sparsely associated members
abide in drugs, guitar music and occasional schemes to obtain the barest forms of subsistence,
which will seem foreign to most watchers. Obviously, the audience has to relate to the authors
view (Burkes consubstantiality) if they are to sympathize with the plight of Emma they must
find something domestic in the setting. But one example of the bridging of this divide are
corollaries to millennial struggles such as the overburdening parents and a yearning for rebellion
in the face of societal hypocrisy. The argument of the commune being a dangerous haven for
crime and sorrow can only be pursued after this separation is overcome. But aside from just
requiring the task of bridging the time divide, the choice of setting is powerfully prescriptive
because it forces the audience to compare the progress made on all the problems espoused by the
rhetor (pro anti-war, anti-police state, anti-racial subjugation, etc.). Arguably this timeless ability
is the power of the fictional narrative well understood by Booth and others.

Beyond setting, Burkes idea of terministic screens shows up in the subplot of Detective
Hodiaks (himself a WWII veteran) personal drama of a son, Walt, who has gone AWOL at the
height of the war. The series very clearly argues in favor of the nobility of the anti-war
movement and gives credence via poignant depictions of the danger and sacrifice in doing so
from parental disapproval to serious problems with military police. Different characters use
different languages to describe Walts situation, from Sams angry abandoned to his wifes
apologetic they just cant find him right now. Bakhtins assertion that discourse can never be
value-neutral or motive-neutral holds especially true as characters discuss Walts situation
(specifically comparing his friends in the anti-war movement to his by-the-books father). But

what stuck the most was the militaristic repetition of AWOL from Sam himself and the
military police who call him. Though not technically desertion, the official-ness of the term
absent without official leave conveys the power and organization of the governmental
apparatus Walt and other anti-war activists would have to face.

Stepping back, Burkes pentad could be applied to explain motivation in numerous situations
throughout the series but his idea of the formative power of certain pentad ratios, specifically
scene/agent seem to play particularly prominently. In just one example, this rhetoric device is
used to argue the destructive power of racism that leaves the viewer primed to make the fruitful
comparison of the difference between then and now. Detective Hodiaks partner, a young
undercover detective in an interracial marriage with an African American wife, is attacked at
home by an unknown assailant who throws a rock through a window in one instance and spraypaints vulgarities on his garage door in another. The scene in this case is in flux between a happy
home and a site of ugly racism and resistance to black homeownership in a previously majoritywhite neighborhood. In enters the agents, Detective Hodiak who uncovers the culprit, and the
unnamed landlord who perpetrated the crime in a convoluted effort to drive down a neighboring
homes resale value in the face of racial tension so he could buy at a markdown. The agent
Hodiak marks the scene as content home while the agent landowner caused the initial scene flux
by his acts. It is remarkable at how the narrative functions as powerful rhetoric in a way that
simply describing these issues of racial tension and racial discrimination in neighborhoods could
not.

Like most narratives, the rhetorical arguments made in the series follow a syllogistic form of
qualitative progression. Agents like Hodiak are dispatched by grieving parents and predictably
face off against villains. However it is the rare paradoxical incidental form that grabs the
viewers attention to the argument being advanced. Emmas father Ken Karn, a successful law
firm partner and political bundler for Richard Nixons upcoming presidential campaign, is
depicted as a powerful figure to be reckoned with. (In deed characters dialogue nearly always
refer to him as Mr. Karn.) This is why early signs of subservience such as down-shifting of eye
contact when facing Charles Manson, a short young man at a much lower stature in life who was
his pro-bono client, seemed off-putting and even paradoxical. It was a complete reversal from the
image the narrative formed about the character up to that point. The audience is piqued and later
it is revealed that Mr. Karn is a closeted homosexual who had a tryst with Manson, making him
immensely afraid of Mansons acts of blackmail. The rhetort succeeds in arguing the pain and
destruction in hiding ones sexual identity and a call to action to be true to ones self or risk
personal misfortune. The audience may even compare the conservative climate Mr. Karns was
enshrouded in to todays conservative climate. If so, they may or may not find delinquencies to
be acted upon. This leads to the fact that rhetorical argument through narrative remains centered
on situations that need to be acted upon. Bitzers idea of exigence is obtained by the ruminating
comparisons the audience makes about the past versus present. Exactly how exigent depends on
the personal motivations of each audience member but poignant examples of injustices and
personal failings can impress on most people the need for change. But perhaps another great
power in narrative as a form of rhetoric is Bitzers third situational element: the constraints.
There is nothing like a story to make clear to the audience the constraints to change (biological

addiction, military enforcers, a hypocritical government, workplace sexists, racist neighbors,

etc.)

Arguably, the narrative work is rich in rhetorical elements and a play-by-play account could
easily furnish a lengthy expose. But a sufficient account of rhetoric in narrative cannot ignore the
viewing medium. John McNamara (no relation to the Vietnam Wars Robert McNamara)
divulged in an interview that curiously the project started out as a quintet of novels. Asked
why the drastic change in medium, McNamara told the interviewer that central to the decision
was the music. The symbolism enacted throughout the narrative by 1960s music is central to the
ethos of free love, war loss and explosive social change. And what better than music to help
bridge the divide and cure the human alienation mentioned by Burke?

CITATIONS

McNamara, John. Aquariuss Marty Adelstein & John McNamara World Screen. Youtube.
Youtube, 4 Feb. 2015. Web 10 June 2016