Rhinoceros Wisdom and Knowledge Quotes

We’re sure you’re often sitting around hoping someone will just come explain syllogisms to you. That’s what the Logician thinks, anyway. He spends his limited time in the play simply spouting his knowledge to all those around, and they respect him, because, well, he’s a logician. The great thing about this character, though, is that the knowledge he passes on plays right into the absurdity of the world around him. His syllogism proves nothing, betters no one, and has no real effect on the listeners. His knowledge, like much of the life of this small French town, is empty.

Even stupid people think about things, even if they don’t realize they’re thinking them. That’s pretty much what Jean is saying here, and he’s saying it to Berenger, so we get a sense he’s hinting his friend doesn’t have too much going on between the ears. Just one more thing Jean gets to hold over Berenger.

Burn! With this zinger (don’t get into a debate with Jean), we get another of those short little lines where Ionesco still manages to pack in tons of good stuff. The key is the word “imagine.” This is Jean’s way of calling Berenger stupid again without coming out and saying it. He’s suggesting that Berenger can only imagine that he actually knows things, because in reality, he knows absolutely nothing.

Yes, this is that definition of syllogism we were waiting for. The Logician follows all the logical rules of constructing a syllogism: A is true, and B is true, so A is B. His conclusion could be called flawed at the very least. This is a great example of how knowledge can, at times, get you absolutely nothing, and stand at direct odds with common sense. Or maybe the Logician is merely demonstrating that the idea of “cats” and “dogs” is completely arbitrary, and therefore neither has any real meaning. And if cats are in fact dogs, can we really know if anything is what we think and say it is? That, friends, is traveling down the philosophical rabbit hole.

LOGICIAN: There is a very strong possibility that the Logician is the biggest culprit of logic abuse in this play. Just keep that in mind when you’re reading him discuss his theories.

Just as Jean believes one’s will power can be kicked into gear by yelling, so believes the Logician about the mind. Sure, we all need to work our brains out, but this guy treats others like they’re on some horrible treadmill of mental torture when they can’t figure something out immediately.

You have a headache, do you? Well, take two of these bits of advice twice a day and you’ll be just fine. Jean treats the gaining of knowledge and wisdom like a prescription. He has it down to how many weeks it takes to become “cultured.” This is a man who believes that the way he does things is the only way they should be done. He cannot accept that Berenger could actually be wiser than he is, because Berenger doesn’t go to museums and plays. And what’s wisdom if not that?

We’ve got nothing against raising your hand in class and giving the answer. In fact, we encourage it. However, there are those people who spout off bits of trivia just to try to prove how smart they are or just to hear themselves talk. That’s how Berenger sees Jean. And at this point, we wouldn’t really argue with him.

There is something beautiful about the world of this play. It’s a world where “being smart” can be your full time job. You just need to have business cards made and talk about stuff that other people don’t really understand.

We know Botard doesn’t trust anyone, but he’s actually bringing up an ongoing debate about the idea of knowledge here. It’s the age-old “book smarts vs. street smarts” argument. Are you knowledgeable because you have learned a lot from books and lectures or are you knowledgeable if you understand the world around you and can navigate it successfully? Maybe you need a little of both like in Good Will Hunting to be really smart. Either way, you can probably guess that Botard is overestimating his abilities in both arenas.