Quintilian

Oratorical Instruction

11.3.117–36

Bad Uses of Gesture

Next to be considered are the mistakes that even experienced speakers make while gesturing. Many writers mention a gesture for demanding a cup, threatening a flogging, or indicating the number five hundred that involves bending the thumb, but I have never seen it used, even by peasants.

I do know that the following occur often. A speaker exposes his flank by thrusting his arm; or he keeps his hand within the fold of his toga; or he stretches it out as far as possible, or raises it to the roof, or swings his arm so often over his left shoulder that he ends up beating his back, endangering anyone standing behind him, or he swings the left arm in a circle, or with a quick jab of the hand assaults bystanders, or flaps both elbows against his sides. With others the hand is sluggish or trembles or hacks like a saw, or they bend their fingers and drag them down the side of the head or flip the same hand on its back and push it upwards towards the heavens. There is another gesture in which the head is bent on to the right shoulder, the arm extended from the ear, the hand stretched out with the thumb pointing upwards. This gesture is a favourite of those who boast that they speak with ‘rousing force’ or ‘uplifted hand’.

We might as well add those who hurl flashing epigrams from their fingertips, or make denunciations with ‘uplifted hand’, or (which isn’t necessarily bad in itself) rise up on tiptoe when pleased with themselves. They turn the action into a fault when they simultaneously hold one or two fingers erect, or arrange their hands as if they were carrying something.

Then there are the faults that arise not from nature but from nerves: struggling with lips that refuse to open; grunting as if something is stuck in the throat when memory or mind is failing us; flaring our nostrils; parading about without finishing a thought; and stopping suddenly to demand applause with our silence. To recount all such failings would take almost for ever. Everyone has his own special faults.

Take care not to let the chest or stomach protrude. It exposes the posterior, and all such bending is repulsive. Let your flanks share in your gesture. The movement of the whole body is what makes a difference, so much so that Cicero thinks that it, rather than the hands, is the basis of oratorical performance. As he says in his Orator:

No flicking of the fingers, or using them to mark the time; the orator moves with his whole torso, bending and stretching in a manly manner.22

Striking the thigh, which Cleon23 is said to have introduced at Athens, is now a familiar practice, used to indicate indignation and rouse the listener. Cicero noted its absence in Calidius: ‘no smacking of the forehead, no striking of the thigh’.24 Although, if I may, I disagree about the forehead, for even clapping hands and pounding the chest are theatrical tricks.

It will also occasionally be appropriate to tap the chest with the fingertips of a hollowed hand, for example if we address ourselves, or offer encouragement, complaint or pity. But if we do so, it will not be unbecoming also to pull the toga back a little. With respect to feet, we need to pay attention to our stance and gait. To stand with the right foot extended, thus projecting the same hand and foot, is not a good look.

Sometimes it’s acceptable to lean forwards on to the right foot, as long as we don’t in so doing twist the chest. Even then, the gesture is more that of a comic actor than of an orator. It’s a mistake when putting our weight on the left foot to elevate the right, or position it on tiptoe. To place the legs far apart is ugly if we are standing still and virtually obscene if we are moving. Taking an occasional step forward is acceptable, provided it is deliberate, short and steady. The same is true for walking during the delays created by applause, although Cicero says that pacing should be rare and of no long duration.25 Running about, or what Domitius Afer called Manlius Sura’s ‘hyperactivity’,26 is completely ridiculous. Flavius Verginius displayed his wit when he asked a rival professor how many miles he had declaimed.27

I understand that it is sometimes said that we should, when walking, never turn our backs on the judges, but instead move diagonally while continuing to look at the panel. Although this recommendation can’t be followed in private cases, the possible distance to be traversed is quite short, and we won’t show our back for any real length of time. Nevertheless, it is sometimes acceptable to step backwards gradually. Of course some speakers jump backwards, which is out and out ridiculous.

Stamping the foot, as Cicero indicates,28 can be advantageous at the start or finish of a lively passage; but doing so repeatedly is silly and of no appeal to the judge. It’s also unattractive to sway left and right while placing weight on one foot or the other. Above all avoid effeminate movement, of the sort Cicero faulted in Titius,29 after whom the ‘Titian’ dance is named. I also advise against frequent, vigorous rocking from side to side, something Julius made fun of in the elder Curio,30 when he asked who it was that was speaking from a rowing boat. So too, Sicinius, who, when Curio’s colleague Octavius31 was sitting nearby, bandaged up and reeking of ointments, and Curio himself was bouncing about as usual, said to Octavius, ‘You’ll never be able to thank your colleague sufficiently – without him, you’d be eaten alive by flies!’

Some speakers jerk their shoulders, a fault Demosthenes is said to have corrected by speaking on a narrow platform with a spear suspended just above his shoulder. If in the heat of the argument he made this mistake, he was reminded by bumping into the spear. Talking while walking is only called for if, in the course of a public trial with many judges, we wish to impress our points on them one by one.

Some speakers will toss the toga over the shoulder and use the right hand to pull the fold up to the waist, gesturing with the left as they walk and talk. This is not to be tolerated. It’s even objectionable to pull the left hand back while protruding the right. I’m reminded of a foolish practice I must not forget to mention: some speakers use the interruptions caused by applause to whisper in a colleague’s ear or crack a joke or signal to clerks, as if to recommend a reward for those expressing their support.

It’s fine to lean towards the judge while explaining something, especially if the point is a little obscure. But it’s rude and aggressive to tower over an advocate seated at the opposing bench. As for leaning backwards and letting yourself be propped up by the members of your entourage, it’s quite affected, unless the speaker is justifiably worn out. The same goes for being prompted out loud or openly reading our text as if we’d forgotten something.

All of these mannerisms weaken the force of our eloquence, chill the emotions and make the judge think we have too little regard for him. To cross over to the opposing bench is disrespectful, and Cassius Severus was quite clever to insist that a barrier be placed between him and an opponent who kept doing so. And even if heading to the other side might cause a stir, returning to one’s own inevitably dampens the mood.

Much of what I’ve explained will need to be adapted if speaking before a tribunal. The speaker’s face must be directed upwards in order to see his addressee, and gestures must likewise be directed upwards. Other adjustments will occur without my having to mention them. So too when speaking while seated, as in minor disputes. The same forcefulness in delivery is not possible, and some movements that might otherwise seem faulty become necessary. For example, if an advocate is seated to the left of the judge, he must extend his right foot, while if he is seated to the right, many gestures will have to be from right to left in order to be directed towards the judge. I have even seen some speakers getting up at the ends of periods and some even walking about a bit. I leave it to them to decide whether such behaviour is appropriate. When they act thus, they can’t be described as pleading while seated.

Drinking (and even eating) while pleading used to be a common custom, and is still practised by some. My orator will do nothing of the sort. If a person can’t for that reason fulfil the obligations of the speaker, then it isn’t such a bad thing for him to stop pleading altogether, and certainly better than revealing his contempt for his profession and his audience.