One most eloquent writings that I have ever read comes from page
8 of Carl Sagan’s 1994 book, Pale Blue
Dot:
Look again at that
dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you
know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out
their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident
religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every
hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and
peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child,
inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every
"superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner
in the history of our species lived there--on a mote of dust suspended in a
sunbeam.
The Earth is a
very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled
by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become
the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties
visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely
distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their
misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their
hatreds.
Our posturings,
our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged
position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our
planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity,
in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to
save us from ourselves.
The Earth is the
only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the
near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet.
Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.
It has been said
that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is
perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this
distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to
deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue
dot, the only home we've ever known.
The passage refers to a photograph taken of Earth by Voyager
1 at a distance of about 4 billion miles.
The words themselves are carefully
chosen to create a certain frame of mind in the audience by evoking different
emotions. Sagan also uses figures to further his intended affect. Primarily, he
uses repetition and antithesis. Repetition, chiefly in the form of anaphora,
allows Sagan to place strong emphasis on his particular points and make those
points memorable. Through antithesis, Sagan engages his readers and challenges
them to actively think while reading. The finely chosen words and figures
combine to make an emotionally-moving passage. This passage is then combined
with the powerful photo to which it refers to create a true rhetorical
masterpiece.
By the end of the passage, the audience
is emotionally open and here is where Sagan places his suggestion to be kind
and take care of the Earth. This is an effective structure because by creating
an emotional connection with his audience Sagan improves the probability of
them accepting his suggestion. It is important to note that he uses a
suggestion and not a command which would disrupt the emotional nature of the
passage. But Sagan does not rely solely on pathos; indeed, there is a certain
logic to his writing. Additionally, Sagan has considerable credibility because
he is was one of the preeminent astronomers of his time.
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