Sean Tarjoto
Political Philosophy
Period 3–Weston
11/15/98

	Fallon, Stephen M. “Hunting the Fox: Equivocation and Authorial Duplicity in The Prince”. Publications of the Modern Language Association of America. Vol. 107, pp. 1181-95, Oct. '92.

ABSTRACT: Fallon argues that Machiavelli's purpose for writing The Prince are malicious and intent on perpetuating the downfall of the occupying 1513 Florence prince, Lorenzo Medici. The "celebrated fissures" and nebulously defined terms (1182) are neither Machiavelli's failure to create an effective handbook or a political satire, but rather, an attempt to "outfox" the prince into unwittingly unseating himself in subtle coup d'état.
	Fallon posits three aims Machiavelli has in The Prince: (1) to gain employment, (2) to promote Florentine expansion; and unify Italy, and then (3), paradoxically, ruin the Medici once they have served his own purposes as a republican (1182). Fallon discusses among Machiavellian semantics, his chapter on Fortune, and the contingency of Machiavelli's failure to produce an effective handbook. Through rhetorical sleight of hand, Fallon argues, Machiavelli intends to deceive the Medici.
	The concept of fortune, or fate, as Fallon argues, is central in the increasingly complex structure of Machiavelli's deception. In concession to free will Machiavelli argues that "fortune is the arbiter of half of our actions, but that she still leaves the other half . . . to be governed by us" (1182). However, when descending to particulars Machiavelli uses the polysemy of fortune to create complex rhetoric. Throughout the article Fallon posits meticulous importance on translating the original Italian manuscript, especially here. Fortuna, is substituted by i tempi, shifting the rhetorical paradigm to the unwitting reader. 
At the end of this chapter, Machiavelli compliments the semantic variable of fortune by allegorizing its nature with women.
  . . . it is better to be impetuous than cautious, because fortune is a woman, and it is necessary . . . to beat her and fight with her. (1183)
	Fallon argues this violent chauvinism may tend to distract us (if not Machiavelli's contemporaries, Fallon also argue) from what is a contradiction of a previous principle. This concluding paragraph advocates consistent impetuousness, although earlier Machiavelli has said that either impetuousness or caution will succeed depending on the times (1183).
	Machiavelli's other versatile term, virtú, Fallon demonstrates, applies to so many meanings as to defy definition. Fallon cites Victoria Kahn's definitions of virtú as, "the ethically unrestrained use of force" and the "a flexible faculty of judgement," to illustrate the fluidity of the term (1183-4), and it's helpfulness in extenuating the girth of conflicting principles.
	Fallon cites Garrett Mattingly's interpretation of The Prince as a political satire. A view which explains the use of Cesare Borgia, universally despised, but invoked, by Machiavelli, as a role model, but inconsistent with his attempt to secure employment with Medici. However, the question of why Machiavelli could so quickly choose to help those who had tortured him, Fallon argues, is testimony that The Prince is neither political satire or literary failure but methodical malice.
	Machiavelli reiterates a Hobbesian view that, "men are so simple-minded and dominated by their present needs that who deceives will find one who will allow himself to be deceived" (1186).  He reassures the prince that no man can be trusted, only to offer that the thing he most needs is a trusted counselor. Fallon argues one cannot find such a person in Machiavelli's world, save perhaps for the author himself. Although antithetical, Machiavelli's anti-Hobbesian, optimistic promises are consistent with his plan to secure his employment and manipulate those whom he offers his services (1187).
	Many of the historical examples within The Prince are mythical, Fallon argues, and thus Machiavelli's hortatory rhetoric to the prince to emulate great men (of virtú) has little foundation. Although he offers a prudent list of characters, "Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, Theseus and the like", all these men are mythical, save perhaps for Moses, who Machiavelli accredits him as, "a mere executor of the things God had commanded" (1188). In addition, Machiavelli's examples of princes from his own times are controversial. Rulers whose reign was inequitable or unsuccessful litter The Prince with historical inaccuracy.
	In conjunction with such perilous examples, Machiavelli uses the downfall of Cesare Borgia, whose historical conditions match those of the Medici almost explicitly. That the two came to power by good fortune and help from foreign military would mean, logically, that the Medici have no more a chance of avoiding downfall than Cesare Borgia. Cesare's rise and fall from power resulted from the debt of fortune. Good fortune was met with extraordinarily bad fortune, although Machiavelli adds implausibly that Cesare did everything prudent and competent (1189). In a striking reversal, however, Machiavelli reports this is not the case of the Medici, whom he intends to flatter and–Fallon argues–invite to believe they will be different from Cesare.
	The entire proposal seems farfetched, so Fallon analyzes Machiavelli's expectations. That Machiavelli expects his work to lead to the destruction of the Medici is explainable by his cyclic conception of history. From Machiavelli's History of Florence: " . . . since Nature does not allow worldly things to remain fixed–when they come to their utmost perfection . . . they must go down. Likewise, when they have . . . reached their lowest depths, they necessarily rise" (1190).
	Fallon posits that if, for "the republican Machiavelli" subjugation to princely rule marks a low point in the cycle, his hope for the future necessarily rises. In the meantime, the Medici would be encouraged to expand Florentine territory, which upon a new republic would inherit (1191).

RESPONSE:	Fallon's argument circumvents some recent difficulties in interpreting The Prince. Or rather, they defend it against accusations of failure or interpretation as political satire. Agreeing with Machiavelli, and disagreeing with Fallon, would be concession to a rather dark side of philosophy that leaves little room to run in. Fallon's position is unique and well argued, placing much emphasis on the chapters on fortune. Although virtú, while much debated and more apparent of an anomaly than fortune remains a secondary semantic question, Fallon's various citations from other authors are an illustration of the term's ubiquitously debated nature. 
	Fortune herself seems to be an analogy that most effectively paralyzes twentieth century readers. The gender-biased paragraph allegorizing Fortune as a woman to be necessarily mistreated would more effectively distract a modern mentality, but Fallon's parenthetical reference that Machiavellian contemporaries would be similarly jolted may develop into a much larger argumentative flaw.

The paragraph's violent chauvinism may distract us (if not Machiavelli's contemporaries) from its equally violent overturning of all that has preceded; put simply, the final paragraph makes nonsense of the chapter it concludes. (1183)
	For women to be mistreated in the sixteenth century is a far more plausible, if not sanctioned, mentality than in the twentieth. If Fallon is presuming that a Machiavellian contemporary, or perhaps Medici himself, were to not be offended, then nothing would stop him from recognizing the loophole in Machiavelli's argument. The advocating of impulsive, impetuous princely rule conflicts with Machiavelli's earlier statement that either kindness or cruelty work, although either one should be chosen according to a given circumstance. If an impetuous ruler seeks to charge his kingdom unreasonable taxes in a period of famine, the chances of revolt and his downfall are greater than if he chooses to be kind and generous in the same situation.
	It is a small miscalculation for Fallon to assume that Medici would read Machiavelli's "handbook", be aghast at the audacity of the analogy, and then refuse to deal with fate in such other way, or for that matter continue reading. 
	Given how fortune is crucial to Fallon's argument, it seems that any flaw, no matter how minor, in its interpretation has the potential to snowball dangerously.