The Internal Chronology of Genesis

10 03 2014

In the Zohar (I:147b), R’ Elazar declares a relationship between the toponym Beer Sheva and the jubilee year, implying a mystical connection between the two and suggesting that when Jacob left Beer Sheva to go to Haran via Bet El, it was a sabbatical year at the time. In the 18th century, R’ Yonasan Eybeschütz relied upon its having been a sabbatical year when Jacob arrived in Bet El, in order to respond to a question on the midrash (Divrei Yehonatan, Parshat Vayyetze; Bereishit Rabbah 68:11). What basis do these assertions have?

While I’ve no problem with the Zohar’s relying on the homophonous relationship between Beer Sheva and the Hebrew word for “seven”, nor with Rav Eybeschütz’s sole source on this matter being the Zohar, I cannot help but wonder whether or not information such as this can also be inferred directly from the biblical text.

In order for us to know whether or not it was a sabbatical year at the time of Jacob’s departure from Beer Sheva, or at the time of his arrival in Bet El, we first need to work out the years at which those events must have occurred. I refer, of course, to what can be determined from the Torah’s own internal chronology and make no claims as regards the veracity of the events that it describes. From a strictly literary perspective, the book of Genesis requests of us that we read it in a diegetic fashion. With very few exceptions, the text is narrative, and those few parts that are non-narrative (such as the blessings that appear in chapter 49) are to be understood, within context, as being uttered by one of the characters in the story. As such, whatever pre-history the text may or may not have had, it is reasonable to treat it as a single, sustained narrative and to look for chronological clues in the reconstruction of relative timing.

The story commences in the first year of creation. I’ll refer to this as 1 AM, where AM stands for Anno Mundi. This is when Adam was born, and we are told that he fathered Seth when he was 130 years old (Genesis 5:3). Seth was 105 years old when he fathered Enosh (5:6); Enosh was 90 years old when he fathered Kenan (5:9); Kenan was 70 years old when he fathered Mahalalel (5:12); Mahalalel was 65 years old when he fathered Jared (5:15); Jared was 62 years old when he fathered Enoch (5:18); Enoch was 65 years old when he fathered Methuselah (5:21); Methuselah was 87 years old when he fathered Lamech (5:25); and Lamech was 82 years old when he fathered Noah (5:28-29). Adding up the figures conveys to us that Noah was born in the year 1056 AM.

Interestingly, most of his ancestors were still alive at this time, as the following chart shows:

930 – Adam died
987 – Enoch died
1042 – Seth died
1056 – Noah was born
1140 – Enosh died
1235 – Kenan died
1290 – Mahalalel died
1424 – Jared died
1651 – Lamech died
1656 – Methuselah died

After Noah, things get a little more tricky. We are told that at the age of five hundred (= 1556 AM), Noah sired three sons. Unfortunately, we are neither told whether he started siring sons at this age, whether he stopped siring sons at this age, nor even the order of their births. As such, this information alone is insufficient to tell us the year in which Shem (Jacob’s distant ancestor) was born.

In Genesis 10:21b, Shem is described as אחי יפת הגדול. Translating this passage literally gives us something like, “the brother of Japheth (the older one)”. To whom is “the older one” referring?

According to the Artscroll translation (which is conducted in line with various rabbinic commentaries), the verse asserts that Shem was “the brother of the elder Japheth”. According to the NJPS translation, he is “the older brother” of the same. Is one of these translations wrong? Regrettably, no. The Hebrew word for brother (אח) is a singular masculine noun. As is the name Japheth, since it too refers to a singular masculine entity. The adjective, הגדול (“the older one”) is a singular masculine adjective, since it refers to one of those two things only, though it could be either one: the word “brother” (which is a reference to Shem), or the name Japheth.

As such, stating that Shem is “the brother of Japheth (the older one)” leaves us in the dark as regards whether the adjective refers to Shem or to Japheth, and therefore as to which of them is the older of the two. Interestingly, Ham is entirely absent from these considerations. It would appear that he is widely assumed to have been the youngest of the three, leaving only the relative relationship of Shem and Japheth in question. It may be that the reason for this is the assumption that הגדול means “the eldest one”. Such was the opinion of Rav Saadiah Gaon (c.885-942 CE), for example, and it is a function of the adjective with some precedent.

Fortunately for us, we can resolve this problem from a literary perspective, and do so without bringing Ham into the equation at all.

In Genesis 11:10, we are informed that Shem sired Arpachshad at the age of 100, and that this was two years after the flood. Since we are told in Genesis 7:6 that the flood occurred when Noah was 600 years old (= 1656 AM: the year of Methusaleh’s death), we can work out that Shem was not the oldest of his brothers. If Noah had starting fathering children at the age of 500 (as per Genesis 5:32), his firstborn would have been 100 years old when the flood occurred. Since Shem was 100 years old two years after the flood, Arpachshad must have been born when his grandfather was either 602 or 603 (= 1658/9 AM), depending on precisely when the flood ended.

Determining the length of the flood is a tricky business, and for some time discussion has been dominated by those who would see in this evidence of the Torah’s multi-sourced composition. I have no problem with those opinions, but am generally disinterested in the attempted delineation of hypothetical texts. Rather, I have an interest in the actual text of the Torah (however it came to be this way), which served as the Torah to those who composed the rabbinic literature, Zohar included. From this finished literary composition, it is evident that the flood lasted, more or less, exactly one year.

The description runs from Genesis 7:11-8:14 and indicates a staged process, which commences and ends with a precise date: in the 600th year of Noah’s life, on the 17th day of the second month, the flood began; in the 601st year of Noah’s life, on the 27th day of the second month, the earth was completely dry. If we were to suppose that “two years after the flood” means “two years after the flood ended“, Noah would have been 603 when Arphachshad was born; if it means “two years after the year in which the flood began“, which was 1656 AM, then Noah would have been 602. Which of these is more logical?

It is my understanding of the text that the latter makes more sense, and for two reasons:

Firstly, Genesis 9:28-29 informs us that “Noah lived for 350 years after the flood, and that all the days of Noah were 950 years”. If “after the flood” means “after the flood ended” (ie: the 601st year of Noah’s life), then living an additional 305 years would mean that his overall lifespan was 951 years, not 950. The only way to get 950 is by assuming that “after the flood” means “after the year in which the flood began”.

Secondly, there is the fact that the word for flood (מבול) occurs several times within this narrative, but always and only in reference to the first 40 days of the deluge. So, for example, Genesis 7:6 tells us that “Noah was 600 years old when the flood occurred: water all over the earth”. The following verse tells us that it was “because of the water of the flood”, which continued for seven days (7:10), that Noah and his family entered the box that he had built. Finally, verse 17 informs us that the flood was on the earth for 40 days altogether, and constitutes the final use of that noun throughout the so-called “flood narrative”. For the remainder of the text, the water is simply referred to as water; it has ceased raining.

One way or another, this gives us the year of 1658 AM for the birth of Arphachshad: two years after the flood, when Noah was 602 years old.

Fortunately for us, for the next eight generations, things get a little simpler again. Genesis 11:10-26 gives us another detailed account of the births and deaths of Jacob’s ancestors, starting with Shem and continuing until Abraham’s father, Terah – a total of nine generations, Shem included. Now that we know that Shem’s son, Arpachshad, was born in the year 1658 AM, we can determine the years in which each of his descendants were born as well:

Arpachshad – 1658
Shelah – 1693
Eber – 1723
Peleg – 1757
Reu – 1787
Serug – 1819
Nahor – 1849
Terah – 1878

Thus, the year in which Abraham’s father Terah was born was the year 1878 AM. But how old was he when he sired Abraham?

The Torah tells us (Genesis 11:26) that he was seventy years old when he fathered Abraham and two other sons, that year being 1948 AM. Regrettably, however, it does not give us the order of their births, so we are once more at a loss to date the birth of any one of them in particular. Was Abraham the eldest? This time, there are no inner-biblical clues that might tell us whether or not he was.

For the authors of the rabbinic literature, all information can either be gleaned directly from the Torah or derived explicitly from the same. Were the text to furnish us with clues concerning the relative ages of Abraham and his two brothers, we could rely upon that in order to determine the year of his birth – as the Torah did for Shem. Since it does not, we must assume that the date given to us (1948 AM) applies to the primary character within the narrative, and not to somebody else.

Since we know that Abraham was 100 years old when Isaac was born (Genesis 21:5), and since we know that Isaac was 60 years old when Jacob was born (Genesis 25:26), then so long as we suppose that Abraham was born in 1948, we can now confidently date the birth of Jacob to the year 2108 AM. All that remains is to determine how old he was when he left Beer Sheva, and how old he might have been when he arrived in Bet El. Is that possible?

Surprisingly, this is actually something that can be worked out fairly easily.

When Jacob meets Pharaoh in Genesis 47:9, he tells him that he is 130 years old. This is nine years after his son, Joseph, had become ruler over Egypt: the first seven of those years being years of plentiful grain, and the subsequent two being years of famine (Genesis 45:6). When Joseph became ruler we are told that he was 30 years of age (Genesis 41:46), which would mean that his father, Jacob, was 91 at the time of Joseph’s birth. Prior to Joseph’s being born, Jacob served his uncle Laban for a period of fourteen years. The Torah tells us that Jacob’s period of indentured servitude transpired at the time of Joseph’s birth (Genesis 30:25), which means that Jacob was 77 years old when he met Laban.

Seeing as Jacob travelled to his uncle directly from Bet El, we can assume that he was also 77 years old when he spent a night there. If he was born in the year 2108, that would give us the year 2185 AM for his arrival in Bet El. Is this also the year in which he left Beer Sheva?

Ishmael was fourteen years older than Isaac, Jacob’s father, as can be seen from the fact that Abraham was 86 years old when Ishmael was born (Genesis 16:16) and 100 years old when Isaac was born (Genesis 21:5). Ishmael died at the age of 137 (Genesis 25:17), which would have been when Isaac was 123. Since Isaac was 60 when Jacob was born (Genesis 25:26), Jacob must have been 63 when Ishmael died, which would have been in the year 2171 AM, fourteen years before he reached Bet El. And yet, Esau (Jacob’s brother) is said to have approached Ishmael with the intention of marrying his daughter, when Jacob left Beer Sheva (Genesis 28:9). Is it possible that it took fourteen years or longer for Jacob to travel from Beer Sheva to Bet El?

The midrashic tradition has Jacob leaving Beer Sheva in 2171 AM, around the time of Esau’s marrying Ishmael’s daughter and Ishmael’s death, studying for fourteen years in the yeshiva established by his ancestors Shem and Eber (the second of whom wasn’t to die for another sixteen years), and then continuing on to Bet El in 2185 AM and, thence, to his uncle’s house (Megillah 17a; Rashi, Genesis 28:9, s.v. אחות נביות). We can safely assume that this midrashic tradition underscores the assertions made in the Zohar, and in the commentary of Rav Eybeschütz.

There are fifty years in the jubilee cycle. Dividing both of those dates by 50 gives us 43.42 for the first one, and 43.7 for the second. That means that the first date (2171 AM) was 21 years into the new jubilee cycle (21 = 0.42 x 50), and that the second date (2185 AM) was 35 years into the new jubilee cycle (35 = 0.7 x 50). Since the sabbatical cycle denotes a period of seven years, both of these dates would give us a sabbatical year – the first being the third of the jubilee cycle, and the second one being the fifth.

In actuality, of course, we need adopt neither of those dates if we do not wish to, assume that they have any significance beyond being incidental features of a narrative, nor even look for too much in the way of internal consistency. Asking questions like these may be a little like wondering what Prince Hamlet was doing when he received news of his father’s death; that which is not explicitly inferrable from the story is simply not part of the story.

But since the early rabbinic literature and the later midrashic tradition (including the Zohar) operates on the principle that anything not stated directly by the Torah can be inferred somehow from the same, the supposition that those dates have significance in the life of Jacob, that they’re not “merely” historical details, and that they can be used in order to determine a broader chronology that stretches beyond Genesis and into the realm of real history has genuine import.

As such, the Zohar’s assertion that Jacob left Beer Sheva in a sabbatical year, and Rav Eybeschütz’s assertion that it was a sabbatical year when he arrived in Bet El, is neither simple wordplay, based around the homonyn sheva, nor a fanciful addition to the text. Whether we share in their presuppositions or not, it is evident that these traditions reflect a solid basis in biblical exegesis.





The King is a Tree

10 03 2014

Recent additions to my bookshelf (you may notice a trend) include the following texts, arranged in alphabetical order:

David H. Aaron, Biblical Ambiguities: Metaphor, Semantics, and Divine Imagery (2002)

Antonio Barcelona (ed.), Metaphor and Metonymy at the Crossroads (2003)

Monroe C. Beardsley, Aesthetics: Problems in the Philosophy of Criticism (2nd ed, 1981)

Max Black, Models and Metaphors (1962)

Marc Zvi Brettler, God is King: Understanding an Israelite Metaphor (1989)

Claudia Camp and Carole Fontaine (eds.), Women, War and Metaphor: Language and Society in the Study of the Hebrew Bible (Semeia 61; 1993)

Mordechai Z. Cohen, Three Approaches to Biblical Metaphor: From Abraham Ibn Ezra and Maimonides to David Kimhi (2008)

William Empson, Seven Types of Ambiguity (1966)

William Empson, The Structure of Complex Words (1967)

Kurt Feyaerts (ed.), The Bible Through Metaphor and Translation: A Cognitive Semantic Perspective (2003)

Robert J. Fogelin, Figuratively Speaking (2nd ed, 2011)

Terence Hawkes, Metaphor (1972)

Terence Hawkes, Structuralism and Semiotics (1977)

Mark Johnson (ed.), Philosophical Perspectives on Metaphor (1981)

Eva Feder Kittay, Metaphor: Its Cognitive Force and Linguistic Structure (1987)

Gail Labovitz, Marriage and Metaphor: Constructions of Gender in Rabbinic Literature (2009)

George Lakoff and Mark Johnson, Metaphors We Live By (1980)

George Lakoff and Mark Turner, More than Cool Reason: A Field Guide to Poetic Metaphor (1989)

John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1689; ed. P.H. Nidditch, 1975)

John Lyons, Introduction to Theoretical Linguistics (1968)

Earl R. Mac Cormac, A Cognitive Theory of Metaphor (1989)

J.J.A. Mooij, A Study of Metaphor (1976)

Kirsten Nielsen, There is Hope for a Tree: The Tree as Metaphor in Isaiah (1989)

Andrew Ortony (ed.), Metaphor and Thought (2nd ed, 1993)

I.A. Richards, The Art of Rhetoric (1936)

Paul Ricoeur, The Rule of Metaphor: Multidisciplinary Studies of the Creation of Meaning in Language (trans. Robert Czerny, 1977)

Sheldon Sacks (ed.), On Metaphor (1979)

Israel Scheffler, Beyond the Letter: A Philosophical Inquiry into Ambiguity, Vagueness and Metaphor in Language (1979)

Janet Martin Soskice, Metaphor and Religious Language (1985)

Danny D. Steinberg and Leon A. Jakobovits (eds.), Semantics: An Interdisciplinary Reader in Philosophy, Linguistics and Psychology (1971)

Gustaf Stern, Meaning and Change of Meaning: With Special Reference to the English Language (1931)

Together with Sternberg’s The Poetics of Biblical Narrative, Berlin’s Poetics and Interpretation of Biblical Narrative, Schmitz’s Modern Literary Theory and Ancient Texts and Eco’s Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language, I have had no choice but to create a new subsection of my Literary Theory shelf and place it on my desk, its content being so relevant to my continuing absence from this blog.

Books that do not quite fit this trend, but have been nonetheless added to my shelves in recent times, include:

David Barnouw and Gerrold van der Stroom (eds.), The Diary of Anne Frank: The Revised Critical Edition (trans. Arnold J. Pomerans, B.M. Mooyaart-Doubleday and Susan Massotty; 2003)

T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land (Norton Critical Editions; ed. Michael North, 2000)

William Empson, The Complete Poems of William Empson (ed. John Haffenden; 2001)

The acquisition of an annotated critical edition of Eliot’s The Waste Land and The Complete Poems of William Empson have forced me to move my poetry section from the living room into the bedroom, where there is currently more space. Sixty-two books now dominate my vision in the brief time before I lose consciousness; their authors (mostly deranged, occasionally just high), narrate the contents of my dreams.





“Much Ink Has Been Spilled”: Musings on the Origin of a Trope

14 12 2013

I see it time and again: an expression that I found charming when I first observed it so many years ago, but one that is beginning to strike me as a pompous and unnecessary way of signifying that others have already tackled the topic in question. “Much ink has been spilled”, muse a thousand academics in a thousand different fields and on a hundred thousand different subjects. One would think there was an inexhaustible supply of the stuff, it being poured out with such reckless abandon.

Where does the expression come from? Does it have an English origin, or is it a translation for something else? In its original context, what was it meant to signify? Was it an allusion to the spilling of blood, perhaps? An extension of a metaphor that equates argument with warfare?

As I’ve no training in computational linguistics (nor in linguistics at all, for that matter), I hesitate to draw any conclusions from what I am about to say next. But I did run a couple of searches on the Google Ngram Viewer, and if you click on the image below you can enlarge the results of one such enquiry. You will note that this phrase was employed sporadically during the 19th century, but that its employment shot upwards rather dramatically in the 20th. The peak for the American spelling (“spilled”) was in the late 30s, while the British spelling (“spilt”) peaked about a decade earlier. After a haphazard series of further peaks and troughs, the phrase with its American spelling became popular once more. Indeed, as of 2013, the phrase is being used almost as frequently as it was in 1937.

Spilling of Ink

I cannot imagine what might have initiated such a groundswell of popularity, be it anything other than the whimsical vicissitudes of personal taste. But as to the phrase’s origin, I have thus far been unable to find any English language material prior to a short article and a poem – both of which were published in 1805. The article is a review of Rev. Charles Daubeny’s “Vindiciae Ecclesiae Anglicanae”, which was published early that same year in the Anti-Jacobin Review and Magazine, and which was, itself, a somewhat scathing indictment of The True Churchman Ascertained, by John Overton (1804). At the close of 1805, The Christian Observer responded to Rev. Daubeny’s critique with a review of their own, and one that sought to find common ground between Rev. Daubeny and Mr Overton. The relevant passage, on p485, reads as follows:

On this chapter, in general, we shall only add, that, as is often the case after much ink has been spilt on both sides of the question, a Christian Observer will see room for mutual concession.

Here, the spilling of ink is a martial metaphor, designed to invoke the spilling of blood. That it need not be, however, is borne out by a poem printed in the same year. Found in the third volume of The Lounger’s Commonplace Book, or Miscellaneous Collections in History, Criticism, Biography, Poetry, and Romance, it is the creation of Jeremiah Whitaker Newman: a poet, raconteur and author of medical literature. The poem itself is on p244, and constitutes an ode to the (supposed) merits of matrimony. The relevant passage reads as follows:

That wedlock’s a pill one and all they cry out,
Of digestion so hard they make a great rout;
On the subject abundance of ink has been spilt.
I’ll swallow the pill if ’tis properly gilt.

Here we see that on a subject on which everybody is said to agree with one another, the spilling of ink denotes wastage and not warfare. That these two texts were both published in 1805 would demonstrate that the expression, applied differently in both of them, originates in neither.

[Be warned, fellow explorer, if you seek a passage prior to either of these, that Google has misfiled a 20th century text (the introduction to George Thornley's translation of "Daphnis and Chloe") as a 17th century text. While the translation itself was published in 1657, the introduction is by George Saintsbury, who was born in 1845.]

And so here, for me at least, the search ends. But oh – I would love so much to take it further! If only to unite these curious English applications of an insufficiently clear metaphor to the beautiful poetry of Midrash Tanchuma/Yelamdenu. First printed in Constantinople between 1520 and 1522, it is a collection of exegetical midrashim on the Torah, believed to have originated in the first half of the 9th century. Consider the following passage, in which sentiments are imputed to the 2nd century nasi, Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, who here opines on the greatness of peace (Tanchuma, Tzav 7):

אמר רבן שמעון בן גמליאל, גדול הוא השלום, שהכתיב הקדוש ברוך הוא דברים בתורה שלא היו, אלא בשביל השלום. אלו הן. כשמת יעקב, ויראו אחי יוסף כי מת אביהם ויאמרו לו ישטמנו יוסף. מה עשו. הלכו אצל בלהה ואמרו לה, הכנסי אצל יוסף ואמרי לו, אביך צוה לפני מותו לאמר, כה תאמרו ליוסף אנא שא נא פשע אחיך. ומעולם לא צוה יעקב מכל אלו הדברים כלום, אלא מעצמם אמרו דבר זה. אמר רבן שמעון בן גמליאל, כמה דיו משתפך, וכמה קולמוסין משתברין, וכמה עורות אבודים, וכמה תינוקין מתרצעין ללמד דבר שלא היה, בתורה. ראה כמה גדול כח השלום

Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel said: Great is peace, for the Holy One (blessed is He) allowed things that never occurred to be written into his Torah, only for the sake of peace. What are they? When Jacob died, “Realizing that their father was dead, Joseph’s brothers said, ‘What if Joseph still bears a grudge against us?’” (Genesis 50:15, NRSV). What did they do? They went to Bilhah and they told her to go to Joseph and say to him, “Your father gave this instruction before he died, “Say to Joseph: I beg you, forgive the crime of your brothers”” (Genesis 50:16-17, NRSV). Not once had Joseph instructed so much as a single matter in these words – they made these things up themselves! Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel said: How much ink has been spilled, how many quills have been broken, how many hides have been tanned, how many children have been caned, just to teach in the Torah something that never even happened! See how great is the power of peace!

This same drash is recorded in the name of the 4th century Palestinian sage, Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, a disciple of Rabbi Levi (Tanchuma, Shoftim 18). There, it reads as follows, with the relevant part attributed anonymously:

אמר רבי יהושע דסכנין בשם רבי לוי, ראה כמה גדול כח השלום, שאמר הכתוב שתים ושלש תבות בשביל השלום, ואלו הן, כשנסתלק יעקב אבינו, נתיראו השבטים, שנאמר, ויראו אחי יוסף כי מת אביהם ויאמרו לו ישטמנו יוסף וגו’, ויצוו אל יוסף לאמר אביך צוה לפני מותו לאמר, כה תאמרו ליוסף אנא שא נא פשע אחיך וגו’. ולא מצינו שיעקב אבינו צוה הדברים האלה, אלא הם אמרו מעצמן. אמרו חכמינו זכרונם לברכה, כמה קלמוסים משתברין, וכמה דיו משתפכין לכתב הדברים האלה שלא היו. ומפני מה, מפני השלום

Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin said in the name of Rabbi Levi: See how great is the power of peace, for scripture recorded two or three words for the sake of peace, and they are these: when our father, Jacob, was taken up, the tribes were afraid – as it says, “Realizing that their father was dead, Joseph’s brothers said, ‘What if Joseph still bears a grudge against us? … So they approached Joseph, saying, ‘Your father gave this instruction before he died, “Say to Joseph: I beg you, forgive the crime of your brothers”” (Genesis 50:15-17, NRSV). But we don’t find that our father Jacob ever said these things – they made these things up themselves! Our sages of blessed memory said: How many quills have been broken and how much ink has been spilled, to write these things that never happened! And why? For the sake of peace!

This same drash, concerning Joseph’s brothers and their legitimate lie, is also recorded in the name of Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel in Leviticus Rabbah 9:9, Derekh Eretz Zutta 11:18, and – with a different emphasis – Yerushalmi Peah 1:1. It is also recorded in the name of Rabbi Elazar ben Shimon in Yevamot 65b, in which the Talmud declares that lying is permissible for the sake of maintaining peace (a stipulation recorded, mutatis mutandis in other places as well). In none of these other instances, however, do we find the expression that concerns the spilling of ink.

Notwithstanding the possibility that the expression’s employment in Tanchuma is not metaphorical, but is rather a figurative depiction of the amount of ink and the number of quills required to copy the Torah as many times as it has been copied, I wonder: is it possible that this expression made its way from Hebrew and, by however circuitous a route, into English? Do the two expressions share a common origin in another language of mutual impact? (The mind turns to Greek in this regard…)

Alternatively, is it possible that the connection between them is entirely coincidental, and that the nature of writing with a quill and an inkstand merely lends itself to such a poetic flourish? Modern Israeli academics who use the phrase are indebted to its English manifestation, although I hope that at least some of them are aware of its Hebrew pedigree. For now, however, it remains only to be noted that this particular literary trope, by virtue of its long-attested ubiquitousness, is probably more responsible than any other for the wastage of ink that it so decries.





Pale Blue Dot

23 10 2013

Courtesy of a student of mine comes this beautiful and thought-inspiring video, narrated by Carl Sagan: a man with a truly golden voice.





Nostalgia

20 10 2013

It is the evening of the third of Shevat, the yahrtseit of the Rav’s father, Rav Moshe, zt”l, and we are in Lamport Auditorium at Yeshiva University awaiting the arrival of the Rav to deliver his annual Yahrtseit Shiur. Some of us have been sitting for a few hours, having come early to obtain seats as close as possible to the Rav. The auditorium is now packed and overflowing. Suddenly, as if an electric current has run through the room, the entire audience, as one, rises: the Rav has arrived!

Sitting in front, we do not immediately see the Rav, for he enters from the rear, and must traverse the entire length of the auditorium to reach us. Everyone is standing, blocking our view; yet the feeling of his presence pervades the room. Finally, the Rav emerges from the crowd, walking briskly, manuscript in hand, steps onto the stage and sits down behind an empty table to begin the shiur.

Then the journey starts. The Rav, usually focusing on one or more halakhot of the Rambam, ticks off one question after another that reflect obvious difficulties in the halakha – at least they are obvious after the Rav sets them out in his clear, lucid and inimitable manner of exposition. Then, after developing each of his questions – superlative pedagogue that he is – he reviews in summary form all of them, to assure that we understand what the problems are that will now be clarified.

That phase of the shiur concluded, the Rav goes on to develop a concept – the hiddush of the shiur – traversing a plethora of passages in the Talmud, commentaries (mostly Rishonim), Midrashim, and others. We watch, listen, and many of us avidly write notes, trying to keep up with the Rav’s rapid-fire delivery as he lays out the hiddush, brick by brick by brick, reconciling all the varied and seemingly contradictory texts.

Now that the foundation has been set and the text reconciliation completed, the Rav returns to the original series of questions. Each is repeated, and then almost summarily disposed of through application of the hiddush, one after the other, after the other. It is more than two hours later and the circuit has been completed; the first portion of the shiur is concluded.

- excerpted from “Dedication”, by Julius Berman. Pages vii-ix of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik: Man of Halakha, Man of Faith (ed. Menachem D. Genack; Ktav Publishing House, 1998).





Dedicated to the Memory of the Slain

18 10 2013

From 1927 until his death in 1983, R’ Menachem Mendel Kasher published thirty-eight volumes of what was to be considered not only his personal masterpiece, but one of the profoundest anthologies of Torah learning to be printed in the 20th century. As of the time of my writing this, forty-five volumes have been published, the remaining seven having been put together posthumously by his son-in-law, his students and the tireless scholars at Bet Torah Sheleimah – the institute that he had founded.

Titled Torah Sheleimah (תורה שלמה; “The Complete Torah”), these forty-five volumes constitute the first four books of the Torah (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers); appended to each verse is every passage within the early rabbinic literature that quotes that verse – a corpus that the author defines as ranging from the halakhic midrashim through to the Geonic period, but which is inclusive of works that are traditionally ascribed to authors during that time, despite their actually possessing a later provenance (like the Zohar, to pick but one example), and a handful of texts (like Sefer Hasidim) that were included for reasons of which I am not aware. As a result, the first parsha of the Torah, Parshat Bereishit (a total of 146 verses) takes up 388 pages: the first of the forty-five volumes. The first thirty of those pages are devoted to expositions of and commentaries upon the parsha’s first word, בראשית.

A Gerrer hasid, R’ Kasher was born in Warsaw in 1895. At the instruction of his rebbe, R’ Avraham Mordechai Alter (the Imrei Emes), R’ Kasher moved to Palestine and established the Sefas Emes Yeshiva in Jerusalem. His being there enabled him to help his rebbe escape Poland and move to Palestine after the outbreak of World War II, but it was there that he and so many others had to watch helplessly as millions more were turned to smoke. His efforts in preserving and transmitting the work of the Rogatchover has earned him great renown, and for his Torah Sheleimah he received the Israel Prize in 1963.

I am very fortunate to have been able to add this forty-five-volume set to my growing collection, and can testify to its incredible beauty. The author’s tremendous ambition and the scope of his phenomenal knowledge are absolutely breathtaking. I haven’t been so much in awe of a single work of scholarship since I first discovered Seder haDorot, or R’ Saul Lieberman’s Tosefta Kifeshutah, and I stand humbled by both the vastness of the tradition and the towering genius of its brilliant expositors.

While opening the eighth volume of Torah Sheleimah recently, to look upon R’ Kasher’s presentation of Parshat Shemot (the first parsha in the book of Exodus), I was struck by a somewhat arresting poem that the author presents by way of a dedication. Prior to this poem is a brief preface, chiefly concerned with the specific manuscripts and versions upon which he relied, and which is signed:

ותושלם מלאכת הקודש, ביומא תליתאה, לירחא תליתאה, שנת בשב”ת

The sacred work [of compiling this volume] was completed on the third day of the third month (3rd Sivan = May 25th), 1944.

After this poem is found a brief dedicatory message, somewhat brutal in its bald emotion:

החלק הזה כולל פרשת שמות, ובו פרשת עינוייהם וסבלותיהם של בני ישראל בראשית עלותם כאומה על במת ההיסטוריה העולמית

עלה בגורלו של הספר הנוכחי לצאת לאור בימי דמים ועינויים, ושוב בני ישראל נאנחים תחת סבלותיהם האיומים

אך נהיה חוטאים לאמת אם נשווה את שברנו בימים אלו, לצער שנצטערו בני ישראל במצרים. הנחש הקדמוני גדל ונתפתח במשך שלושת אלפים שנה. לרשות עמלק ושותפיו עומדים כל כלי המדע להשחית ולהשמיד ולאבד. בחרי-אף וללא שבעה הסתערו פראים, טמאים וזדים על בני עמנו שבאירופה לגדוע אותם מן החיים, כאיש כאשה, כסב כעולל

אנו, שבדרך נס ניצלנו ממבול-הדמים האירופאי שנשפך על העולם כולו ועל עמנו שבעים ושבעה, נתקיים בנו: “ויקוצו מפני בני ישראל”, אף “וימררו את חייהם”. מגיע ללבותינו הד דברי משה רבנו אוהב ישראל: “למה הרעתה לעם הזה?” ואזנינו קשובות לתחינת נעים זמירות ישראל: למה ברחוק תעמוד

אין אנו מבינים לדרכי ההשגחה. “כי לא מחשבותי מחשבותיכם ולא דרכיכם דרכי”. ואנו תקווה שגם בימינו תתקיים תשובת ה’ למשה רבינו: “עתה הראת…” ונזכה לראות חיש-מהר ובקרוב בימינו את ישועת אלהינו, ומי שאמר לעולמו די, יאמר לצרותינו די, והרשעה כעשן תכלה, והשוכן בשמים ירים קרן עמו, ונגיל בפריחת תורתנו הקדושה ובמשוש ארצנו הבנויה בקודש, בשוב ה’ את שיבת ציון

My translation:

This volume includes Parshat Shemot, in which is recorded the suffering and the oppression of the children of Israel when they first entered as a people upon the stage of world history.

It is the fate of this present edition to be published during days of blood and suffering, when the children of Israel are again groaning under their fearful oppression.

But we would be unfaithful to reality were we to equate our torment in these days with the anguish that was experienced by the children of Israel in Egypt. The primal serpent has grown and expanded over the last three thousand years; in the service of Amalek and his allies stand all of the tools of technology to eradicate, annihilate and destroy. With furious anger and without ever being sated, the savage, the unclean and the wicked have laid siege to our people in Europe, severing them from the source of life: women together with men, the old with the very young.

For those of us who by miraculous means have been saved from the torrent of European blood that has been poured upon the entire world and upon our people sevenfold¹, in us has been established: “They became sick because of the children of Israel”², such that “it made their lives bitter”³. An echo of the words of Moshe Rabbeinu, the lover of Israel, reaches our hearts: “Why have you made things so bad for this people?”⁴ And our ears are attuned to the plaintive cry of David⁵: “Why do you stand from afar!?”⁶

We do not understand the ways of providence. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts nor your ways mine”⁷. But we do hope that in our days will also be established Hashem’s response to Moshe Rabbeinu: “Now, see…”⁸, and that we will merit to see quickly and soon our God’s salvation. Let He who said to His world, “Enough!”⁹, say to our sorrows, “Enough!” May wickedness dissipate like smoke and may the one who dwells in the heavens raise up the horn of his people. May we rejoice in the blossoming of our holy Torah, and in the joy of our land, rebuilt in holiness, when Hashem returns the captivity of Zion.

¹ Lit. seventy-sevenfold (cf: Gen 4:24).
² Exodus 1:12
³ Exodus 1:14
⁴ Exodus 5:22
⁵ Lit. “of the pleasing [composer] of the songs of Israel” (cf: 2 Samuel 23:1).
⁶ ≈ Psalms 10:1
⁷ Isaiah 55:8
⁸ Deuteronomy 4:35
⁹ cf: Hagigah 12a, Genesis Rabbah 46:3

On the following page stands R’ Kasher’s poem. It is titled בכה אבכה מר: “Bitterly shall I weep”. As with the passage above, typological constraints have required me to strip the Hebrew of some of its punctuation, but I have attempted to reflect it in my translation below:

בכה אבכה מר על חרבן עיר-מולדי ורשא
קהלה קדושה של ששים רבוא נפש-ישראל
עיר מלאה חכמים וסופרים, והתורה מורשה לה
אהה, צדיקיה וחסידיה, תמימיה וקדושיה
אנשים ונשים, ישישים וטף, נשרפו ונכרתו ונשחטו
הה, לדמים אשר נשפכו כמים
דמי בני ישראל ובנותיו, הטהורים והזכים
הה, לישיבות, בתי-המדרש ובתי-החסידים על רבבות לומדיהם
מי ימלל תפארת גדלתה והוד קדשתה
ועתה נרמסה ונהרסה ברגל-רשעה
בלא הפוגות אקונן על חללי בת עמי
הרוגי פולין, רוסיה, אשכנז, צרפת, בלגיה, הולנד, ליטה ולטביה, רומניה ואונגריה
גדול שברנו, עצמו מכאובינו, רבת אמללנו
אתה ה’ ידעת כלם
מצבת-זכרון, מנחת עני, מגשה לזכר קדושינו

Bitterly shall I weep for the razing of Warsaw, the city of my birth,
A sacred community of sixty myriad souls of Israel -
A city filled with wise men and scribes, for the Torah was its inheritance,
Woe for its righteous, its pious, its pure and its holy,
Men and women, the elderly and the infants are burned, cut down and slaughtered -
Woe for the blood that flows like water,
The blood of the sons and the daughters of Israel, the pure and the blameless!
Woe for the yeshivot, the study houses and the hasidic institutions with their myriad students!
Who can relate the glory of its greatness or the splendour of its sanctity,
Which is now trampled down and crushed beneath the foot of iniquity!
Without rest I will lament the slain of my people,
The murdered of Poland, of Russia, of Germany, of France, of Belgium, of Holland, of Lithuania and of Latvia, of Romania and of Hungary -
Great is our agony, powerful is our pain, enormous is our grief:
You, Hashem, know all of it!
This memorial monument, this paltry tribute, is dedicated to the memory of our slain.

That this was written in May of 1944 is itself chilling. This was less than a month after the first transports from the Hungarian countryside had begun rolling towards Auschwitz. At the time of this poem’s composition, close to 500,000 Jews were yet to be murdered.





Qohelet 12:12

16 09 2013

It may be that I simply have too many books. Since I last wrote about my library (which is now two libraries – one that dominates the living room, and another that almost prevents my entering the study), I have acquired the following texts:

In Hebrew/Aramaic:

Megillat Taanit. Considered by some to be the earliest work of “rabbinic” literature, Megillat Taanit comprises a list of dates on which it is forbidden to fast or to deliver a eulogy, written in Aramaic. The entire text can be viewed online here. It also includes a Hebrew commentary, which may have been written several centuries later, providing historical reasons behind each of the dates in the Aramaic text. The Aramaic component was probably authored at some stage in the 1st century CE, being referred to in the Mishna (Taanit 2:8), and at least one baraita (Shabbat 13b). Mine is the critical edition, מגילת תענית: הנוסחים, פשרם, תולדותיהם בצירוף מהדורה ביקורתית, by Vered Noam (Yad Ben-Zvi: Jerusalem, 2003).

HeArukh al-haShas (3 vols.), by R’ Natan ben Yechiel of Rome (1035-1106). Completed in 1101, the Arukh constitutes the first ever dictionary of the Babylonian Talmud. According to a poem that the author wrote by way of an introduction, it appears that he had four sons: Yechiel, his firstborn, died after thirty days, Benjamin lived only to the age of eight, Shabbetai died at the age of three, and the fourth did not survive long enough to be circumcised. Seeking comfort for his grief in an intensive study of the rabbinic literature, R’ Natan produced a work of scholarship that had a profound influence on subsequent generations of Talmudic scholars, and one that sheds light today on the early history of Talmudic interpretation in Europe.

Sefer Hasidim, by R’ Yehuda heHasid (1140-1217). As one of the leaders of the pietistic movement known as Hasidei Ashkenaz, which flourished in Germany during the 12th-13th centuries, R’ Yehuda has had his name attached to this text but without any certainty as to its actual provenance. A collection of ethical maxims, although not homogeneous in nature, it is believed to have reached its final form in Germany in the early part of the 13th century.

Beit haBechirah (7 vols.), by R’ Menachem Meiri (1249-c.1306). Although this commentary on the Talmud wasn’t published until the 18th century, and had a very limited influence upon the development of the halakha as a result, it is widely regarded as one of the most lucid overviews of Talmudic law. One area in particular in which it has had some effect is in the author’s emphasis on non-Jews of his day (specifically Muslims and Christians, but also other peoples whose nations are run in accordance with law) falling beyond the purview of those to whom the Talmudic authors were often referring when they spoke of goyim, nochrim and akum. As such, R’ Meiri was likely the first person to observe that certain passages need to be viewed within the context of their Sassanid-era composition.

Shnei Luchot haBrit (5 vols.), by R’ Yeshayahu Horowitz (c.1565-1630). First published in 1648 by the author’s son, R’ Horowitz’s magnum opus is actually several books in one:

- Toldot Adam: written in eighteen parts (with an introduction of its own), this is the author’s introduction to the overall text. In it he makes clear the work’s tripartite structure and emphasises the fact that it serves as a testament to his children. He also provides an overview of his philosophical approach to the nature of God, the purpose of existence, the study of Torah, and several other issues, including the phraseology of prayer and the Temple service;

- Aseret Maamarot: the first of the text’s three parts, this section comprises ten philosophical/kabbalistic discourses;

- Sha’ar haOtiyot: an addendum to Aseret Maamarot, this section comprises twenty-two halakhic/philosophical excurses, titled as an alphabetic acrostic;

- Aseret haDibrot: the second of the text’s three parts, this section comprises discourses on ten of the tractates in the Talmud and their related legislation. Each discourse is further subdivided into three parts: Ner Mitzvah, in which the laws are explicated in full; Torah Or, in which the reasons for the laws are enumerated; and Derekh Chayim, in which the author expands upon the philosophical and ethical lessons to be learnt from this legislation. To several of these discussions are appended drashot on a variety of related subjects;

- Torah ShebiKhtav: the first of two addenda to Aseret haDibrot, this section comprises the author’s philosophical, legal and ethical commentary on the Torah, arranged by parsha. This section is occasionally published separately, as its own text;

- Torah Shebe’al Peh: the second of the two addenda to Aseret haDibrot, this section comprises a lengthy and technical introduction to the early rabbinic literature, divided into twenty-seven “principles” and constituting a methodology for Talmudic analysis. The concern here, as with similar introductions, is with provenance and authority: which parts can be said to have been authored by whom, what is the relationship of individual corpora to one another, and how can we determine the halakha. The thirteenth “principle”, titled לשונות הסוגיות (“the expressions found in Talmudic pericopes”), constitutes a corpus-based analysis of Talmudic clauses and phrases, based upon information found within the Talmud’s various commentaries and meta-commentaries. In that respect it is not dissimilar to a modern dictionary, albeit with phrases for lemmas;

- Aseret Hilulim: the third and final division of the text, this section comprises ten ethical treatises.

Although Shnei Luchot haBrit was written expressly for R’ Yeshayahu Horowitz’s children, it has had a profound impact upon the development of subsequent Jewish ethics and philosophy. One area in which it has had a particularly powerful impact is that of hasidic Judaism. The classic Liqqutei Amarim (“Tanya”) of R’ Schneur Zalman of Liady – the principle expression of the kabbalistic philosophy of Chabad – is heavily indebted to this text, perhaps more than any other post-Talmudic expression of ethical philosophy.

HaMeor haGadol (2 vols.): a compilation of novellae taken from various sources, all of them attributed to R’ Eliyahu ben Shlomo Zalman, the Vilna Gaon (1720-1797), published in 2004. Novellae concern selections taken from the individual parshiyot of the Torah, (most of) the subsequent books of the Tanakh, the sixty-three tractates of the Mishna, the Pesach haggadah and the siddur.

• Various works of R’ Yonasan Eybeschütz (1690-1764), each of which was published posthumously:

- Chasdei Yehonatan (first published 1897) is a collection of novellae on various midrashim, halakhic and aggadic, found chiefly in Midrash Rabbah, Yalkut Shimoni, Midrash Tanchuma, Torat Kohanim, Sifrei Bemidbar and Devarim, and Rashi’s commentary on chumash;

- Ahavat Yehonatan (first published 1875) is a collection of novellae on the parshiyot and haftarot that are read throughout the year, as well as on Lamentations (Eikhah);

- Divrei Yehonatan (first published 1903) is a collection of novellae on the Torah, arranged by parsha, as well as on the festival of Pesach, its laws and customs, and the text of the haggadah;

- Nefesh Yehonatan (first published 1901) is a collection of novellae on the Torah, as well as on the festivals of Hanukkah and Purim, arranged according to the parsha and in reference to a variety of midrashim and passages from the Talmud and the subsequent halakhic literature;

- Midrash Yehonatan (first published 1933) is a collection of novellae, frequently complex, on the individual parshiyot of the Torah, in which the author links concepts from a wide range of Talmudic and halakhic texts;

- Tiferet Yehonatan (first published 1873) is a collection of novellae on the Torah, arranged by parsha;

- Tzefichat haDevash (first published 1887) is a collection of drashot that had been delivered by R’ Eybeschütz on various shabbatot and yamim tovim.

Seder haDorot (2 vols.), by R’ Yechiel ben Shlomo Heilprin (c.1660-c.1746). First published in 1769 (תקכ”ט), Seder haDorot is three books in one:

- Seder Yemot ha’Olam. This 425-page text constitutes a history of the world, based on a variety of rabbinic historiographical sources, from the creation of the first man until the year 1696 (“ה’ אלפים תנ”ו”). The work is prefaced with a comprehensive 50-page index of all instances in the Babylonian Talmud in which the author believes that the name of a sage or the relationship between two sages has been incorrectly recorded; it is followed by a 69-page index of all names mentioned within the text (although Jesus, whose birth is mentioned in the year ג’ תרע”א and whose ministry is mentioned in ג’ תש”ז, appears to be mysteriously absent);

- Seder Mechabrim uSefarim. Based heavily upon the monumental Siftei Yeshenim of R’ Shabbetai Bass (1641-1718), this 203-page text constitutes an alphabetical index of rabbonim, together with the titles of the works that they authored. Unlike Siftei Yeshenim, this text includes no additional information as regards each of the works that it lists, nor their dates of publication;

- Seder Tannaim veAmoraim. This 778-page text constitutes a comprehensive index of every sage mentioned in the Mishna and Gemara, together with some brief biographical information (chiefly parentage, tutelage and names of disciples). The index also includes references to every passage within the Mishna in which they are mentioned, as well as to sources within the two Talmuds and their respective commentaries in which the biographical information that he provides can be found.

Nefesh haChayim, by R’ Chayim ben Yitzhak of Volozhin (1749-1821). A disciple of R’ Eliyahu ben Shlomo Zalman (the Gaon of Vilna; 1720-1797), R’ Chayim is most famous today for having founded the yeshiva in Volozhin – regarded by many as the first “modern-style” yeshiva, in terms of its curriculum, its management and the means by which ambassadors of the yeshiva raised funds for its continued support. Nefesh haChayim, which was first published in 1824, is the author’s major philosophical work, dealing with issues that pertain to the nature of existence, the mechanism of prayer, our relationship with God and the study of Torah. To my mind, the most interesting aspect of the text lies in its author’s distancing himself from a particular philosophy that was ostensibly held by his rebbe – a philosophy that, in Chabad literature, is presented as having been the chief cause of friction between the Gra and the hasidim – that of tzimtzum kifeshuto. So, for example, the Nefesh haChayim writes:

והוא ענין הכתוב “הלא את השמים ואת הארץ אני מלא” (ירמיה כג, כד). ויותר מפרש במשנה תורה “וידעת היום וגו’ כי ה’ הוא האלהים בשמים ממעל ועל הארץ מתחת אין עוד” (דברים ד, לט). וכן “אתה הראת לדעת כי ה’ הוא האלהים אין עוד מלבדו” (שם, שם לה) והוא ממש כמשמעו, שאין עוד מלבדו יתברך כלל, בשום בחינה ונקדה פרטית שבכל העולמות, עליונים ותחתונים והבריות כלם, רק עצמות אחדותו הפשוט יתברך שמו לבד

- Shaar III:3; for more on this subject, see Allan Nadlar, The Faith of the Mithnagdim: Rabbinic Responses to Hasidic Rapture (Baltimore, 1999), 11-28. On p16, Nadlar notes that, contrary to Chabad sources, “there was virtually no substantive theological difference between Hasidim and Mithnagdim in their respective theoretical understandings of the nature of divine immanence”.

Mei haShiloach (2 vols.), by R’ Mordekhai Yosef Leiner (1839-1854), student of R’ Simcha Bunim of Peshischa and the Kotzker Rebbe, R’ Menachem Mendel Morgensztern. First published in 1860 (תר”כ), approximately six years after his death, Mei haShiloach comprises two distinct hasidic commentaries on the Torah.

Minchat Chinukh (3 vols.), by R’ Yosef ben Moshe Babad (1801-1874). First published in 1869, Minchat Chinukh is the author’s conceptual commentary to the 13th century Sefer haChinukh, itself a methodological presentation of the 613 mitzvot, according to their presentation in the Rambam’s Sefer haMitzvot, and arranged by parsha. This 19th century commentary provides depth to those halakhot, teasing out the nature of the legislation by means of reference to Talmudic and post-Talmudic discussions on the subject, and through the author’s own discussion of hypothetical cases.

• Two collections of novellae on the Torah by R’ Moshe Schreiber (1762-1839), aka Chatam Sofer:

- Torat Moshe Chatam Sofer (2 vols). First published in 1881, this is a collection of the Chatam Sofer’s novellae on the Torah, written as drashot and arranged by parsha;

- Chatam Sofer al-haTorah (5 vols). This is a collection of the Chatam Sofer’s previously unpublished novellae on Torah, first printed in 1961 by R’ Yosef Naftali Stern, the son-in-law of the Chatam Sofer’s grandson, R’ Shlomo Aleksandri Schreiber.

Ketav Sofer (2 vols.), by R’ Shmuel Binyamin Schreiber (1815-1871), the eldest son of the Chatam Sofer. First published in 1883, this is a collection of the Ketav Sofer’s novellae on the Torah, the five megillot, the individual chaggim and the haggadah.

Ha’Ameq Davar (6 vols.), by R’ Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin (1816-1893), rosh yeshiva at Volozhin. First published in 1879, Ha’Ameq Davar constitutes a commentary upon the Torah (at times, a super-commentary upon Rashi) and upon Song of Songs.

Meshekh Chokhmah (4 vols.), by R’ Meir Simcha of Dvinsk (“Or Somayach”; 1843-1926). In three volumes (the fourth constituting a series of detailed indices), this is the Or Somayach’s celebrated commentary on the Torah, first published posthumously. Perhaps the most (in)famous component is a remark made in the author’s explication of Parshat Bechukotai, to the effect that certain of his contemporaries were responsible for neglecting the study of Jewish literature, of failing to master the Hebrew/Aramaic language, of ceasing to consider themselves in exile and of considering Berlin to be the new Jerusalem. To such people, R’ Meir Simcha promises a storm of tremendous ferocity, the likes of which this exile has never seen, which will transport Jews to a foreign land in which they will be subjected to harsh decrees, will be reminded that they are Jews and will be brought to the edge of annihilation.

[Such threats are not uncommon in certain modes of literature, but the time and place of Meshekh Chokhmah's composition makes their author seem something of a prophet.]

• Various novellae and drashot from the school of Brisk:

- Beit haLevi al-haTorah: a collection of novellae arranged by parsha (from Bereishit to Ki Tisa), plus twelve drashot on Hilkhot Stam (the writing of sifrei Torah, tefillin and mezuzot). Authored by R’ Yosef Dov Soloveitchik of Brisk (“the Beis haLevi”, 1820-1892);

- Sefer Drashot: a collection of eighteen drashot on a range of subjects, extracted from the Beis haLevi’s magnum opus, “Beit haLevi”;

- Yalqut Shemu’ot miBeit haLevi: first published in the 9th and 10th editions (2001-2002) of Yeshurun, this is a collection of novellae and drashot on various parshiyot of the Torah, on some of the subsequent books of Tanakh, on certain tractates of the Mishna/Talmud, on the siddur and on the haggadah. They are all of them attributed to the Beis haLevi, either by people who heard them from him or who heard them in his name;

- Chiddushei Maran haGriz haLevi: a collection of novellae and drashot on Tanakh and on various passages in the rabbinic literature, attributed to R’ Yitzhak Ze’ev Soloveitchik (“the Brisker Rov”, 1886-1959), grandson of the Beis haLevi. As with the previous collection, these have all been recorded by individuals who heard them from him personally or who heard them in his name. They were first published in 1996.

Tzafnat Pa’aneach al-haTorah (3 vols.), by R’ Yosef Rosen of Rogatchov (1858-1936). Known as the Rogatchover Gaon, R’ Yosef Rosen (together with R’ Meir Simcha of Dvinsk) was one of very few people to have recognised the infamous Yerushalmi Qodshim as a forgery. A Kapuster hasid, the Rogatchover studied under the Beis haLevi and R’ Yehoshua Leib Diskin (“Maharil Diskin”), and gave semikha to the seventh rebbe of Lubavitch, R’ Menachem Mendel Schneersohn. At the time of his death in 1936, most of his voluminous writings were unpublished, and there were few who were capable of deciphering his famously laconic style. Leaving her home in Petach Tikva, the Rogatchover’s daughter, Rachel Citron, travelled to Dvinsk and met up with her father’s student, R’ Yisrael Alter Safern-Fuchs. Togther, they frantically prepared the Rogatchover’s writings for publication until such time as the Nazi ban of Jewish printing put an end to their efforts. In the time that they had left, they photographed the pages of his Rambam and Shas, together with his copious marginalia, and sent the pictures by post to R’ Tzvi Hirsch Safern in NYC. They were both murdered in 1942, but it is thanks to their efforts that many of the Rogatchover’s writings have now been published.

This three-volume set is a commentary upon the Torah and upon the Rambam’s Guide of the Perplexed. It was first published in 1974 by R’ Menachem Kasher, together with introductions that pertain to the life and thought of R’ Yosef Rosen. If you wish to read more about this incredible man, his insights into Torah and the amazing self-sacrifice of those who worked at disseminating them (or if you wish to contribute in any way to the ongoing labour of preparing his manuscripts for publication), you can consult the Tzafnat Pane’ach Institute.

Mikhtav meEliyahu (5 vols.), by R’ Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler (1892-1953), mashgiach ruchani at Ponevezh Yeshiva in Bnei Brak. Published between 1955 (תשט”ו) and 1997 (תשנ”ז), Mikhtav meEliyahu is a collection of R’ Dessler’s ethical writings, personal correspondence and mussar schmuessen, primarily dealing with themes that touch upon matters of faith, divine providence and free-will.

Sefat Emet (5 vols.), by the second Gerrer Rebbe, R’ Yehuda Aryeh Leib Alter (1847-1905). First published in 1905 (תרס”ה), immediately after the rebbe’s death, Sefat Emet constitutes a hasidic commentary on the Torah, widely regarded as exceptionally complex by virtue of its offering the reader very little in the way of any indication as to precisely which subject is under discussion, or which passage (in the Torah, in Rashi’s commentary or in the Talmud) is being specifically referred to.

Yismach Yisrael, by the second Alexanderer Rebbe, R’ Yerachmiel Yisroel Yitzhak Danziger (1853-1910). First published in 1911/2 (תרע”א), Yismach Yisrael is a hasidic commentary on the Torah.

Tiferet Shmuel, by the third Alexanderer Rebbe, R’ Shmuel Tzvi Danziger (1860-1923), the brother of his predecessor. First published in 1925 (תרפ”ה), Tiferet Shmuel is a hasidic commentary on the Torah, and one that makes reference in a number of instances to the Yismach Yisrael.

Divrei Yoel (8 vols.), by the first Satmarer Rebbe, R’ Yoel Teitelbaum (1887-1979). First published in 1971/2 (תשל”א), Divrei Yoel constitutes the Satmar Rebbe’s commentary on the Torah, and probably the most systematic elucidation of his hasidic thought.

Melekhet haMishkan veKheilav, by R’ Asher David Meyers. Published in 2004, this text (“The Construction of the Mishkan and Its Vessels”) constitutes a detailed study of the sanctuary and its adornments, the altars, the table and the courtyard, and the means by which these were constructed. It is based upon discussions of the subject in the rabbinic literature, and includes responsa by R’ Chaim Kanievsky (born 1928), son of R’ Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, “the Steipler Gaon”.

Sha’arei Sefarim ‘Ivrim, by A.M. Haberman. Published in 1969 by the Museum of Printing Art in Safed (מוזיאון לאומנות הדפוס, צפת), this work is a collection of images of 104 different Hebrew title pages over the course of several centuries. Commencing with a hand-drawn title page from a Tanakh written at the end of the 13th century, and culminating with a printed title page from a 1949 printing of Maayan Tahor (by R’ Moshe Teitelbaum, rav of Ujhely; 1759-1841), it is fascinating to see the evolution of different styles. Some are quite startling: a Pentateuch printed in 1591 shows a bare-breasted woman, draped in a cloth and sporting a crown, with a spear in her hand, pointing downwards at a seven-headed dragon; a collection of halakhic novellae on tractates Beitza, Bava Metzia, Ketubot, Hullin and Gittin, printed in 1737, depicts a ship at sea under attack from a giant, hornéd sea-monster, which appears to be swallowing the anchor and which has two men in its belly, wearing pointed hats and lighting a fire beneath a cauldron. The title pages of my own books are staggeringly boring to me now.

In Yiddish:

• Jacob Shatzky, The History of the Jews in Warsaw I: From the Beginnings to the Uprising of 1831 (New York, 1947).

• Jacob Shatzky, The History of the Jews in Warsaw II: From 1831 to the Uprising of 1863 (New York, 1948).

• Jacob Shatzky, The History of the Jews in Warsaw III: From 1863 to 1896 (New York, 1953).

In English:

• Malachi Beit-Arié, Unveiled Faces of Medieval Hebrew Books: The Evolution of Manuscript Production – Progression or Regression? (Jerusalem, 2003).

• William G. Braude and Israel J. Kapstein (trans.), Pesiqta de-Rab Kahana: R’ Kahana’s Compilation of Discourses for Sabbaths and Festal Days (London, 1975). Strack and Stemberger provide a variety of possible dates for this compilation, all of them within the first millennium but differing from one another by several centuries. A collection of homiletical discourses for Shabbatot and festivals, it has been described by some as the oldest exegetical midrash, and is our primary source for the ten special haftarot that are read before and after the 9th of Av.

• Mordechai Z. Cohen, Three Approaches to Biblical Metaphor: From Abraham Ibn Ezra and Maimonides to David Kimhi (Leiden, 2008). In this text, Cohen applies metaphor theory to the figurative language found within Tanakh, and analyses the different ways in which these three rishonim interpreted scripture.

• Anne and Roger Cowen, Victorian Jews Through British Eyes (The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization; London, 1998). This delightful 200-page text is a collection of newspaper articles, photographs and caricatures that concern Jews in England (be they English Jews or migrants) between approximately 1829 and 1900. The articles attest to the changing fortunes of Jews in England, both socially and politically, to attitudes that were held towards Jews from the East, and to the manner in which certain prominent Jewish individuals were considered in the public eye. (From the library of Alan and Sadie Crown.)

• José Faur, The Horizontal Society: Understanding the Covenant and Alphabetic Judaism (2 vols; Boston, 2010). A somewhat strange but phenomenally eclectic collection of essays, dealing with a wide range of Jewish subjects and exhibiting an almost encyclopedic familiarity with the rabbinic literature. Its author is an alumnus of Beth Midrash Govoha in Lakewood, New Jersey, and a former professor at JTS and Bar-Ilan.

• John C.L. Gibson, Textbook of Syrian Semitic Inscriptions I: Hebrew and Moabite Inscriptions (Oxford, 1971). (From the library of Alan and Sadie Crown.)

• John C.L. Gibson, Textbook of Syrian Semitic Inscriptions II: Aramaic Inscriptions, including inscriptions in the dialect of Zenjirli (Oxford, 1975). (From the library of Alan and Sadie Crown.)

• Martin Goodman, Rome and Jerusalem: The Clash of Ancient Civilizations (London, 2008).

• Isaac Halevy-Levin (ed), The Revival of the Hebrew Language (Ariel 25; Jerusalem, 1969). Featuring articles by S.Y. Agnon, Chaim Rabin and E.Y. Kutscher, among others.

• Louis Jacobs, Theology in the Responsa (London: 1975). A fascinating text, R’ Jacobs looks at a range of responsa from the Geonic period through to the 20th century, and considers how their authors, either explicitly or implicitly, developed arguments on matters of faith. Arranged chronologically, with chapters devoted to different centuries. (From the library of Alan and Sadie Crown.)

• Leo Kadman, The Coins of the Jewish War of 66-73 CE (Corpus Nummorum Palaestinensium III; Jerusalem, 1960).

• Paul Kahle, The Cairo Geniza (2nd ed; Oxford, 1959). Based upon a series of talks given by the author for the British Academy Schweich Lectures in 1941, this text is an historical and literary introduction to the materials found within the Cairo Geniza, with a special emphasis placed upon witnesses to the biblical text, both masoretic and translations. (From the library of Alan and Sadie Crown.)

• Gail Labovitz, Marriage and Metaphor (New York, 2013). As with the work by Mordechai Z. Cohen, mentioned above, this is a contribution to the field of metaphor theory, and one in which the author turns her attention to the language of commerce that pervades rabbinic matrimonial texts.

• Binyamin Lau, The Sages III: The Galilean Period (trans. Ilana Kurshan; Jerusalem, 2013). The third volume in a three-volume series, the first was titled “The Second Temple Period” (from Shimon haTzaddik to R’ Tzadok) and the second was titled “From Yavneh to the Bar Kokhba Revolt” (spanning Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai to R’ Yehuda ben Bava, and the deaths of R’ Akiva’s students). This third volume, titled “The Galilean Period” covers the establishment of the bet midrash in Usha, through to the death of R’ Yehuda haNasi.

• Marvin Lowenthal (trans.), The Memoirs of Glückel of Hameln (New York, 1977). Written in Yiddish between 1690 and 1719, Glückel’s diary (which she authored for the benefit of her children, shortly after the death of their father) provides a fascinating insight into the life of a Jewish woman of business in the final quarter of the 17th century. She writes of her memories of the expulsion of Jews from Hamburg in 1648, the Swedish invasion of Altona in 1657, the aftermath of the Chmielnicki uprising in the east, and the false messiah, Shabbetai Tvzi. The first of the two major German translations of this work was undertaken by a descendant of Glückel named Bertha Pappenheim. Better known to the world as “Anna O.” (the pseudonym by which Sigmund Freud and Josef Breuer referred to her in their case studies), Pappenheim was the most significant patient when it came to Breuer’s work on hysteria, and takes a major place in the early development of psychoanalysis. What can I say: this world can be a very strange place.

• Shimon Yosef Meller, The Brisker Rav: The Life and Times of Maran HaGaon HaRav Yitzchok Ze’ev HaLevi Soloveitchik zt”l (3 vols; trans. Daniel Weiss; Jerusalem, 2007). Published by Feldheim, these three volumes constitute a (somewhat romantic) biography of one of the greatest Torah scholars of the twentieth century, the son of R’ Chaim Soloveitchik and the grandson of the Beis haLevi. His nephew, R’ Yosef Dov Soloveitchik (“the Rav”) is not mentioned once in the book’s 1,792 pages. His absence, while not particularly surprising, is somewhat striking in the opening chapters of the first volume, in which the Rav’s family tree stops with his father, R’ Moshe Soloveitchik (the Brisker Rav’s brother), and in which information about the life of R’ Moshe Soloveitchik is attributed to his grandson, R’ Moshe Meiselman. R’ Meiselman, who heads Yeshiva Toras Moshe in Jerusalem, has courted controversy with his pretence that the Rav’s Zionism was put on for the purposes of outreach only, and that the Rav (who was both his uncle and his teacher) was as staunchly anti-Zionist as the rest of the Soloveitchik family.

• Jacob Neusner, A Life of Yohanan ben Zakkai Ca.1-80 CE (Leiden, 1970).

• Jacob Neusner, Major Trends in Formative Judaism II: Texts, Contents, and Contexts (California, 1984).

• Hayim Goren Perelmuter (trans.), Shir haMa’alot l’David (Song of the Steps) and Ktav Hitnazzelut l’Darshanim (In Defence of Preachers) (Ohio, 1984). Authored by R’ David Darshan and first printed in 1571 and 1574, respectively, these were the first books of darshanut to have been published in Poland, and its author the first itinerant preacher to have devised a handbook for others of his profession. Perelmuter’s translation incorporates a copy of the original publication in the back of the text, an introduction to the period and the style, and a running English commentary. (From the library of Alan and Sadie Crown.)

• Gil S. Perl, The Pillar of Volozhin: Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin and the World of Nineteenth-Century Lithuanian Torah Scholarship (Studies in Orthodox Judaism; Boston, 2012).

• Harry Rabinowicz, A Guide to Life: Jewish Laws and Customs of Mourning (London: 1964). This short and pocket-sized text provides information that pertains to the various periods of mourning, the care of the deceased, funerary and consecration practices and the observance of yahrzeits. Most importantly, it is replete with copious footnotes, providing sources in the Talmudic and post-Talmudic literature, making it an excellent pedagogical tool. (From the library of Alan and Sadie Crown.)

• Aaron Rakeffet-Rothkoff, The Rav: The World of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (2 vols; 1999). These two volumes constitute a brief biography of the Rav, followed by a compendium of remarks made by him on a wide variety of issues, translated into English.

• Stefan C. Reif, Shabbethai Sofer and his Prayer-book (Cambridge, 1979). One of the most outstanding grammarians of the 16th-17th centuries, the Polish-born Shabbetai Sofer was commissioned by the Council of Three Lands to write an official siddur for use by Ashkenazi Jews. That text was lost until the end of the 19th century, when the original manuscript was recovered in London by A. Neubauer and subsequently published. This volume, by Stefan Reif, constitutes an introduction to and commentary on the text of Shabbetai’s siddur. (From the library of Alan and Sadie Crown.)

• William Shirer, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich (1977).

• Shaul Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century: Creating a Tradition of Learning (The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization; trans. Lindsey Taylor-Guthartz; Portland, 2012). Shaul Stampfer focuses primarily on the yeshiva in Volozhin, which was established by R’ Chaim ben Yitzhak and which counted amongst its leaders (at least for a time) both the Beis haLevi and the Netziv, but he also gives attention to the yeshivas in Slobodka, Telz and Kovno. The yeshiva in Slobodka is particularly interesting to me: headed by R’ Nosson Tzvi Finkel (“the Alter of Slabodka”; 1849-1927), the yeshiva placed a very strong emphasis on the study of mussar. In 2011, when the rosh yeshiva of the Mir in Jerusalem died (a man also named Nosson Tzvi Finkel) he was eulogised by R’ Nissan Kaplan as having come to the yeshiva as a young American boy so many years back – a young boy, with no yichus. I don’t know what it means to have no yichus, given that his father was a rabbi, his great-uncle was the rosh yeshiva at the Mir, his grandfather was the mashgiach ruchani at Yeshivas Hebron, and his great-grandfather (for whom he was named) was the Alter of Slabodka. But there you go.

• Bernard Wasserstein, On the Eve: The Jews of Europe Before the Second World War (New York, 2012). From the book’s jacket: “Unlike most previous accounts, On the Eve focuses not on the anti-Semites [sic] but on the Jews. Wasserstein refutes the common misconception that they were unaware of the gathering forces of their enemies. He demonstrates that there was a growing and widespread recognition among Jews that they stood on the edge of an abyss… Wasserstein introduces a diverse array of characters: holy men and hucksters, beggars and bankers, politicians and poets, housewives and harlots… from Vilna (the “Jerusalem of the North”) to Amsterdam, Vienna, Warsaw, and Paris, from the Judeo-Espagnol-speaking stevedores of Salonica to the Yiddish-language collective farms of Soviet Ukraine and Crimea… Based on comprehensive research, rendered with compassion and empathy, and brought alive by telling anecdotes and dry wit, On the Eve offers a vivid and enlightening picture of the European Jews in their final hour.”

• Reuven Ziegler, Majesty and Humility: The Thought of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (Jerusalem, 2012).

and the pièce de résistance:

Biblical Archaeology Today: Proceedings of the International Congress on Biblical Archaeology – Jerusalem, April 1984. This wonderful text contains articles and addresses by a number of different scholars, many of whom were giants in their field. The list of authors includes, but is not limited to, Frank Moore Cross, Benjamin Mazar, Yigael Yadin, David Noel Freedman, Norman K. Gottwald, Siegfried Herrmann, Moshe Kochavi, Amihai Mazar, Israel Finkelstein, Avraham Biran, Ruth Amiran, William G. Dever, David Ussishkin, Donald B. Redford, André Lemaire, Baruch A. Levine, Lawrence H. Schiffman, Joseph M. Baumgarten, Elisha Qimron, John Strugnell, Hartmut Stegemann, David Flusser, Cyrus H. Gordon and Ephraim E. Urbach.








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