Ralphies 2023

Wow, what a crazy year. Lots of ups and downs. But there is one thing solid in an unstable world: the Ralphies. 

Movies: Did I see any movies at all? I’ll give the Ralphie to the only one I remember watching (online): Spider-Man Across the Spiderverse. 

TV: On the other hand, there was a lot of fun TV.  Murder at the End of the World was good, especially for Emma Corrin’s performance. Bob’s Burgers became my main go-to late in the year (a wholesome show with fart jokes). The Chosen provided much fodder for Ralph, as you might have noticed.  But the Ralphie goes to The Americans, which absorbed me (and even moved me) deeply. Yes, I watched the whole thing in 2 months. 

Books: So many books, so little time. For fiction, the Ralphie goes to Fugitive Telemetry, a novel in the Murderbot series (which I love). For non-fiction … well, I haven’t finished reading it, but of course I have to give a Ralphie to this volume. *blush* 

Music: Listening has shifted from album-based to song-based, because of the ubiquity of streaming services, and I’ve succumbed.  Some of my favorites were Bang Bang, by Momma; Psychos, Jenny Lewis; Woman on Fire, BEL; Goner, girlhouse; and from the past, That Old Black Magic, Louis Prima and Keely Smith (and she was the best singer of her era, you can’t deny it); and Me & Magdelena, a gem by the Monkees (!). But the Ralphie goes to I’m In Love With You by The 1975 (dumb name for a band, great song). 

Sports: Nice to see the Longhorns return to being good, and the Bengals are hanging in there as I write. But the Nats were awful again, and will probably be awful again in 2024. No Ralphies! 

All right, my children, that’s it.  If the Republic still is standing next December --which is far from certain-- I’ll see you then. 

Little lamb, arise (Chosen 5)

 This post is mainly concerned with the episode in The Chosen (season 3, episode 5) dealing with the raising of Jairus's daughter (see Mark 5:37-41 and parallels). In general, the episode is well done, as are all the healing miracles in this series (I say nothing about the cringey ending, where Jesus and the disciples go swimming in the Sea of Galilee fully clothed). 

I was interested to see that the healing words spoken by Jesus in the episode were "Little lamb, arise!", representing talitha kum(i) ταλιθα κουμ, a Greek transliteration of Aramaic טליתא קומי. (Mark 5:41). But, although the word טליתא "girl" is originally derived from a word meaning "lamb" (or perhaps just "young of an animal"), in Aramaic, throughout its dialects טליתא means just "girl" (as טליא talya means "boy").  The scriptwriters evidently got hold of an idea that etymology equals meaning; and this particular idea is often used sentimentally in fundamentalist homilies (like this). 

There are a thimbleful of occurrences in very late Aramaic texts where טליתא or טליא means "lamb," where the writers are actually using a borrowed Hebrew word טלה taleh, which does mean "lamb." For instance, in the Babylonian Talmud, Bava Mesia 47a we find ומשכה לפרה, ולא משכיה לטלא, "he pulled the cow, but did not pull the lamb," both "cow" and "lamb" are Hebrew. 

So the proper rendering of the Aramaic sentence is just "Girl, arise!" By the way, the standard Aramaic word for "lamb" is אמר immer (fem. imra), while in Hebrew it is כֶּבֶשׂ keves (fem. kivsa). 

The Chosen (4)

 Currently I'm into season 2, but these comments are wrapping up season 1.

• Jesus likes to hug. A lot. Not complaining, I've just never thought of Jesus as a big hugger. But why not?
• Erick Avari's performance as Nicodemus was excellent, kudos to him. 
• I like the diversity of this cast, both as to gender and to ethnicity. But I'm not comfortable historically with Mary Magdelene being a de facto disciple.  Surely a single woman would not have traveled around with 13 single men? 
• The Romans, in the last episode of Season 1, don't like the attention Jesus is getting, so they put up a notice in "Aramaic, Latin, and Greek" that is to say "By order of Rome, and punishable by detention and imprisonment, religious gatherings outside the synagogue and Hebrew school are strictly prohibited. The teacher known as Jesus of Nazareth is wanted for questioning." Then a scene shows a Roman soldier posting the notice: 
  
  Not Aramaic (or Latin or Greek, natch) but Modern Hebrew and not very smooth at that (and in fact a couple of lines are obviously missing). I know that the prop is meant only for verisimilitude and not meant to be historically accurate, but still this is pretty inept. (And it started my mind down a rabbit hole: How would you say "religious gatherings" in ancient Hebrew or Aramaic? I don't think there was even a word "religious" in either tongue.) Couldn't they find a scholar  (ahem) who could produce a decent prop in the ancient languages?
• It's axiomatic that every portrayal of Jesus is a kind of mirror image of the age that produced it. In the '60's we had Godspell, with a hippie Jesus.  Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ reflects the conservative Catholic piety of its producer.  This Jesus is an evangelical Jesus.
• Which is not to say it's bad by any means. I do enjoy this show, and its kind heart.  I nitpick because it's my job. 

The Chosen (3)

 Continuing with reactions to The Chosen ...

The episode of the wedding at Cana in Galilee was overall well-done, I thought ... but sooo slooooow. This series has a problem with pacing. It was a nice touch having Thomas present as a wine wrangler. 

But my job is to nitpick! It was this episode I think that began at the pawnshop, which displayed a sign in typeset (!) Hebrew (!) טובין משועבדים, which means "pledged goods" in Modern Hebrew. In both modern and ancient Hebrew (and Aramaic) the notion of pawning is expressed by the root משכן, so I'm not sure where they got their expression. 

I also have a beef with the presentation of John the Baptist's imprisonment. The Pharisee Nicodemus visits him in a Roman prison, where he has been put because a Pharisee laid an information against him (because John called them a "brood of vipers," Matt. 3:7). But it's explicitly said in the gospels (e.g, Luke 3:19-20) that Herod Antipas, tetrach of Galilee, imprisoned John because John had criticized him for marrying Herodias, his brother's wife. Neither the Romans nor the Pharisees enter into it.  Since the biblical scenario has all kinds of dramatic possibilities, I'm not sure why the script ignores it (and so far the script doesn't mention Herod at all). 

Watch this space for more carping to come!

The Chosen (2)

 Forging ahead with The Chosen ... (see previous post)

I'm about at the 4th episode, season 1.  The miraculous draught of fishes (Luke 5:1-11) was very well done, I thought, and vividly presented.  High marks to whoever wrangled all those fish for the filming. 

I'm not so happy with the staging of Jesus' teaching: the hearers seated in rows before him, while he stands and talks, like a Sunday School class. That just felt wrong. In those days, the students stood and the teacher sat, if possible at an elevation that had speaker's and hearers' heads at the same level; or else the teacher would walk and talk and the students followed. (Notice that in Luke 5:2, Jesus sits down.) (I told the rector of our church this years ago, and he said, "Wow ... if I could sit, I could preach for hours.") 

In fact, there is too much sitting going on in this show.  At mealtimes, everyone is shown sitting on chairs around a table. But, back then, if people sat down to eat, it was usually on the ground; but if a table was present, the diners would recline at an angle and reach for food in front of them:

This actually makes a number of scenes in the gospels easier to imagine, such as the notice in Luke 7:38, that the woman who anoints Jesus "stood behind him, at his feet"; or the disciple "whom Jesus loved" "leaned back against Jesus" at the Last Supper (John 13:23). It'll be interesting to see how the producers stage these scenes.

I know I'm carping, and in general, this is a good show (so far). But my concern is that people will watch it and think they're getting the Bible straight, instead of seen though a modern-day filter.

Many thanks to this site, from which I lifted the illustration. 

The Chosen, some quick reactions

 I started watching "The Chosen" on Netflix, based on the recommendation of a friend. It's the first show about Christ I've seen since "The Passion of the Christ" (which I have professional reservations about). 

In general, the production values are good, and so are the performances. (I've seen the first episode and part of the second.) In this respect, it stands up well next to other hit shows on Netflix and other streaming services -- well enough to make me want to keep watching.

I see a couple of weaknesses, though, and they are shared by almost all films about Christ.  First of all, the Romans are portrayed as a constant oppressive presence in Capernaum, where the action (so far) takes place. This is not historically accurate. Capernaum was in Galilee (not in Judea, as stated at one point), and Galilee was under the rule of Herod Antipas. Antipas was a client king under the Romans, true, but the Romans didn't control Galilee directly. It was under Jewish control. (The Romans did have a direct rule over Judea, though, in the person of the governor Pilate and Roman soldiers could be called on as needed, although they probably didn't walk the streets like military police.) So although the show sets up the Romans as bad guys, it's unlikely that this was the case in Capernaum (and I do wish they wouldn't keep pronouncing it "Caper-num." Caper-nay-um, please.)

Secondly, as is typical, the Jewish population is shown wearing Bedouin-type clothing, which fits the Western "Orientalist" view of ancient Palestine. However, based on ancient depictions and descriptions, the inhabitants of Palestine dressed the same as everybody else did in the Greco-Roman period, i.e., with a basic tunic (a big shirt reaching to the knees) and a mantle (like the Roman toga) worn over that. In terms of clothing the Galileans and Judeans and Gentiles and civilian Romans were no doubt indistinguishable. 

We haven't seen much of Jesus so far, but in his look he appears to be a break from the Euro-Christ image we've seen so much of.  So high marks for that. 

Maybe I'll write some more on this show, who knows? But I'm not bored, so far. 

New! More! Ralphies!

 

Almost let the Ralphies slip this year; we can't have that! It's been a year with a lot of ups and downs. But let's get to the awards …

Movies: Are they still making movies? I didn't see any in the theater. If I have to pick one for the Ralphie, I guess it would be The Blue Dahlia, which I watched online.

TV: In the nature of things, I can only remember the most recent shows watched.  For drama, I would pick Under the Banner of Heaven, very intense and historically interesting.  For comedy, I will agree with the vox populi and pick Wednesday; much better than Stranger Things 4 (which I watched while in Israel),  entertaining but incoherent.  The critical favorite Andor  I didn't enjoy particularly; there was almost no sci-fi element in it at all (although festooned with sci-fi signifiers, like spaceships, they played almost no role in the story itself).

Books: I gave the Wheel of Time umptilogy a try, but petered out after the 4^th book. The Ralphie goes to All Systems Red, by Martha Wells, vol. 1 of the Murderbot Diaries. Well done. 

For non-fiction, the Ralphie goes to The Constitution of Knowledge, by Jonathan Rauch. Who would have thought a book about social epistemology would be so engrossing? But a special tip of Ralph's hat also goes to J. F. Collins's Primer of Ecclesiastical Latin, which was a helpful vade mecum to my re-entry into the world of Latin. I'm going to need Latin for my next project. Also I had a book published, which is gratifying.

Music:  The Ralphie for Album of the Year goes to Big Thief's Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You, which is among the best I've ever heard and probably my favorite since Sufjan Stevens's Illinois (although very different in style and genre). I can't pick just one song for you, but here's the title track. I love the way Adrianne sings the word "recoil." For songs, there were too many to pick just one; some of the ones I particularly liked: "Speeding 72," Momma; "PBR," Bel; "Billy Toppy," Men I Trust; "Seasons Change," MorMor; "Higher," Sault; "Blue Bones," Billy Nomates.  For covers, "Fourth Time Around," by Yo La Tengo.

OK, pilgrims, that's it for another year. I'll see you at this same corner next year around the same time. 

 

A Knot in a Rush and Nehemiah 2:1

 I’ve been reviewing Latin, with a view to reading some old commentaries and works of scholarship. I can’t say I’m a fluent reader (yet!), but I’m enjoying the process. Speaking of which …

Reading a book of commentary extracts on Nehemiah, I came across a Latin  expression that puzzled me. C. F. Houbigant (18^th century Biblicist)  is commenting on Neh. 2:1, וְלֹא־הָיִיתִי רַע לְפָנָיו, “Now I had not been beforetime sad in his presence” (KJV) – “him” being the Persian emperor. Houbigant translates et non ei displicui, “and I had not displeased him.” His comment is Nihil erat tam obvium, quam ut sic interpretaremur. Et prorsus me fugit, quare nodum in sirpo quaesierint plerique interpretes. “Nothing was more obvious, than that we should interpret  it so. And it utterly escapes me, why many interpreters have sought a knot in a bulrush.”

That last expression, nodum in sirpo, made little sense to me and was obviously an idiom. The Internet, however, was soon able to point me to a useful source. In a book entitled Letters and Exercises of the Elizabethan Schoolmaster John Conybeare (1905), the teacher is commenting on Latin idioms,, and we find the following: “Nodum in sirpo quaerere : To seeke a knot in a rushe. A proverbe where one maketh a thinge difficulte or doutfull, which is verie playne to be understode, or ys scrupulouse in a thinge without cause.” Eureka! But where does the idiom come from? Apparently it is classical and Plautus is cited as the earliest user of it.

The meaning, I assume, derives from the fact that a rush (or bulrush) is a straight stem, without complication or articulation; to seek for a "knot" in it is to overlook the plain in a search for the complex. 

The default gloss of the key word in the Nehemiah passage is "bad," with the exact sense varying by context. If most English versions choose "sad," it is because of the conversation that follows, in which the emperor notices that Nehemiah is gloomy or downcast. Houbigant's translation is certainly not obvious.

(Also, by the way, apparently John Conybeare was a forebear of the early 20^th century Orientalist F. C. Conybeare.)

All His Furniture

 Following up on the last post, note also the word furniture in KJV Exodus 39:33: "And they brought the tabernacle unto Moses, the tent, and all his furniture." This word also, unexpectedly to modern ears, translates Hebrew kelim. Today furniture refers to the large furnishings of a house – the tables, chairs, rugs, lamps, and so forth – but in 1611 it meant equipment. In Exodus it refers to the dishes, cups, jars, bowls, pans, trowels, etc. used in the sacrificial worship. (The word his, by the way, refers to the tent, not to Moses.)

Here the KJV translators appear to have followed the Bishops' Bible, which also has furniture, while the Geneva Bible has instruments and the Tyndale Bible apparel — another word with a different modern meaning! The NRSV and ESV translate "utensils."

So  we have seen the KJV use three words in three different verses to translate a single Hebrew word. This illustrates the obvious point that there is no one-to-one relationship between the words of one language and the words of another – a point that is sometimes obscured by the hankering for a "literal" translation. A second point is that these three words – artillery, carriage, furniture – have changed their meaning in the 400+ years between King James and ourselves. The KJV is a monument of English literature, but its archaic language renders it liable to misinterpretation.  

Jonathan's Artillery and David's Carriage

 "Jonathan gave his artillery unto his lad." Such is the translation of 1 Sam 20:40 in the KJV, a reminder that the word artillery used to mean any shooting weapons, not necessarily those with shells. The translations that preceded the KJV didn't use this term; the Bishops' Bible (a major source for the KJV) used " instrumetes" (sic) and the Geneva Bible just has " bowe and arrowes." The Hebrew term thus translated is kelim, plural of kli, a term with a broad range of application. Other words used to translate it in the KJV in various contexts are "jewels," "stuff," "vessels," "furniture," "thing," "instruments," "weapons," "armour," and "bag." There is no single English word that covers the same range; kli basically refers to any thing useful that can be carried by a single person.

Another interesting KJV rendering of the same word is in 1 Sam 17:22: " David left his carriage in the hand of the keeper of the carriage," a sentence that is liable to be misunderstood. Here "carriage" is again Hebrew kelim, referring to what we would call today "baggage." The Bishops' Bible for the same verse reads " Dauid left the thinges which he bare, vnder the handes of the keper of the vessels," the italicized words rendering kelim. Geneva has " Dauid left the things, which hee bare, vnder the handes of the keeper of the cariage."

Modern translations of 1 Sam 17:22 are generally like the NRSV: "David left the things in charge of the keeper of the baggage" (also ESV). I'm not sure why there is a tendency to translate kelim by two different English words. JPS (1985), like KJV, does not: " David left his baggage with the man in charge of the baggage."

Ralphies 2021

A year where things happened. The appalling 6th of January.  The rise and fall and rise of the pestilence. Things change, and they don't.

I was on sabbatical, and finished a book.  I was supposed to go to Israel, but that didn't happen. I was supposed to go to California, and that did happen. I returned to the classroom in the fall, but I'm betting I'll be back teaching via Zoom next month. 

Yeah. Well. 

Shall I give Ralphies? I shall.

TV: We're still in the golden age of TV, which has shifted to streaming. In the spring, I finished watching every episode of Deep Space Nine, and by the end I felt like all those people were my friends. In the fall I started The Expanse, with The Mandalorian in between.  But the Ralphie goes to a Netflix show with a title not safe for a family blog.  Also a Lifetime Achievement Ralphie to the Beatles for the compulsively watchable Get Back.

MOVIES: We didn't go to a theater this year, but there were (was?) an abundance of movies on (once again) streaming channels.  I'll give the Ralphie to an obvious but well-deserving winner: Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten RIngs, with a special mention of Morris, who reminds me of our visitation of rabbits. 

BOOKS: For fiction, I read for the first time Little Women, because I needed a novel and it was in the house.  I liked it a lot more than I thought I would, so a special Lifetime Achievement Ralphie to Louisa May Alcott.  But the best novel award goes to Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore. Couldn't put it down.  For non-fiction, no award; I read a lot of articles, but few (no?) complete books. I wrote one, though. 

SPORTS: A year best forgotten.

MUSIC: There was music, a lot of good stuff.  I'll give big thumbs up to "Serotonin," by Girl in Red; "Bunny is a Rider," by Caroline Polachek; "Be Sweet," by Japanese Breakfast.  But I became a real fan of Big Thief, the band headed by Adrianne Lenker.  Right now, everything else by comparison seems cheesy and shallow.  I could link so many of their songs, but I'll give the Ralphie to "Little Things" and a second-place Ralphie to "Change." I was also lucky enough to see live music for the first time since the advent of COVID, a solo show by Adrianne. Can't resist another link to the song she did as an encore, "Anything."

Is that it? That's it. Thanks for reading, you guys are swell!

Something Something Ralphies

 The first Ralphies were awarded in 2004.  I'll let you guys figure out how many years that's been.

Speaking of years ... 2020, amirite? A global pandemic that just won't quit, and internal strife in the US the likes of which I've never seen before -- and I survived the '60s. I and my loved ones are lucky to have so far escaped being affected by either one of these viruses, although I had a brush with cancel culture in the spring, which did not shake my commitment to the more liberal side of things.  So you know where I stand, but I can't help thinking that it doesn't conduce to the common good to keep harping on all the ways we differ from others. Our illness is not just that the two sides are hostile, but that we want the other side to know just how much we despise them and disagree with them. Nothing good can come of this.

But hey! We're here to give out awards, not to kvetch! So herewith we get down to business. 

TV: The pandemic produced a Golden Age of TV, aided by the streaming revolution. After some years of idly watching not much TV, I watched a ton of streaming shows this year, on platforms which are no doubt cleaning up. I love The Mandalorian, and went back and watched all the other Star Wars-related content, with a particular liking for Rebels. Also enjoyed Daredevil. The Boys.  Lots of fun stuff.  My favorite, though, would have to be Queen's Gambit. I swore that it would not make me take up chess (again), but ... 

MOVIES: What movies?

MUSIC:  Since after March I was not commuting to work every day, I wasn't listening to Sirius XMU, my main source for encountering new music. I did find some good things by Soccer Mommy ("Circle the Drain"), Phoebe Bridger ("Kyoto"), Arlo Parks ("Black Dog"). Of cover songs, "How Will I know" by the Lemonheads. But my #1 jam was the album "St. Cloud" by Waxahatchee (Katie Crutchfield), which was my pandemic theme record.  Superb mix of Americana sounds and indie sensibility. Listen to "Fire."

Also I have to mention the column by Tom Breihan at Stereogum, The Number Ones, wherein he discusses every #1 Billboard Hot 100 hit, from 1958 onward.  (He's up to 1986 currently.) Some of the best music writing around, even when he's talking about songs I don't care for. 

Also a fruit of the pandemic is my own rejuvenated interest in playing.  I picked up the guitar again back in March, shook off the rust, and ... we'll see. 

BOOKS: Drawing kind of a blank here with fiction. Mostly I read old favorites (comfort books).  Of non-fiction, aside from things I read for work, I enjoyed Stone of Hope: Prophetic Religion and the Death of Jim Crow by David L. Chappell (2004); very enlightening and a great piece of historical writing, especially pertinent now. Not at all along the same lines was Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess, a helpful pseudepigraphon. 

SPORTS: What sports? There were (and are) games, but games without live fans are depotentiated. We'll see what happens in 2021.

POLITICS: Who says 2020 was all bad? The election results are something to cheer, and the current bag of bile occupying the Oval Office will be turned out next month. 

OK, folks, that's it for another year. Let's drink to unforgettable 2020 and greet the new year with hope and a hangover.  

Mike Pence and the Spider

 After the vice-presidential debate with Mike Pence and Kamala Harris, all anyone could talk about was the fly that landed on Pence's head.  Arguably of more consequence is Mike Pence's spider.  The following occurs in Bob Woodward's Rage:

"Pence recounted [to Dan Coats] the Old Testament story of David, who was hiding from King Saul in a cave when God sent a spider to weave a web across the cave opening.  On seeing the web, Saul did not enter the cave.  The spider had concealed David's presence and saved his life. The story showed that even a spider might be an instrument of great salvation in the hand of God. 

   "Marsha Coats [Dan's wife], whose grandparents were ministers, had never heard a sermon as serious and deep. The story raised obvious questions. Could a spider, normally a cause for fear, bring salvation?"

I don't know if this story influenced Pence or Dan Coats to support Trump; Woodward does not say so. But the important thing to note is that this story is not in the Bible at all.  It is found in the late Jewish midrash the Alphabet of Ben Sira:

וכשנחבא במערה מפני שאול המלך שלח הקב״ה עכביש וארגה על פי המערה וסגרה אותו, בא שאול וראה ארוג אמר בודאי לא נכנס אדם הנה שאם נכנס היה קורע הארוג לקרעים והלך ולא נכנס לשם, וכשיצא דוד וראה העכביש נשקה ואמר לה ברוך בוראיך וברוכה את

When David hid in a cave from King Saul, the Holy One, blessed be he, sent a spider, and she wove a web at the mouth of the cave and closed it. Saul came and saw a web, and said, "Certainly no man has entered here, for if he had, he would have torn the web to pieces." So he left and did not enter. And when David came out, he saw the spider and kissed her and said, "Blessed is thy creator and blessed art thou!"

My experience has been that, in general, Catholics, growing up, do not acquire the same degree of biblical literacy as Protestant evangelicals.  Not a criticism, just an observable fact.  So it is completely possible that Pence believed this story was found in the Bible.  I am surprised that Wheaton grad Dan Coats bought this as a biblical citation, though (if he did).  And beyond all this, I am wondering where Pence heard this story.  Does it have some currency among conservative Christians?  Inquiring minds want to know.

By the way, the same story is told in Islamic legend of the prophet Mohammed.  Good stories have a way of getting around.

This post is dedicated to the memory of the late Fr. Bill Gartig, Ph.D., on what would have been his 68th birthday. 

How is the Fourth Beast in Dan 7:7 "different"?

In Daniel 7, the seer has a vision of four beasts who arise from the sea to trouble the earth (we later find out that these beasts stand for four kingdoms or empires that will arise). He describes each beast, with the remark that they were "each different from the other" (שָׁנְיָן דָּא מִן־דָּא).  The first three beasts resembled, in order, a lion, a bear, and a leopard. The fourth beast is not given an animal name, but is said to be "different from all the beasts that preceded it" (7:7, NRSV; מְשַׁנְּיָה מִן־כָּל־חֵיוָתָא דִּי קָדָמַיהּ). The other translations are similar to the NRSV, as are the ancient versions (LXX, Peshitta, Vulgate). However, what is the point of saying that the fourth beast was different from all the other beasts, when in v. 3 it had already been stated (and shown) that all the beasts were different from each other?

The answer lies, perhaps, in the different verb stems used. In v. 3, the Pe'al (G stem) is used statively, in the meaning "be different" (in other contexts it can denote a change of state, "change, become different").  In v. 7, the Pa'el (D stem) passive participle is used.  The D stem's function with this verb is factitive, that is, it brings about the state denoted by the G stem — in a word, it makes it transitive, "change something, make something different." The passive participle would mean, at face value, "changed, made different."  So does it mean "the fourth beast was changed/made different"? Not exactly, but we're getting there.

Many times, when the root שׁני is used, there is a nuance present beyond just "change," in that the change is often for the worse.  In Dan 5:9, when the king is troubled, his "countenance changed upon him" — that is, he turned pale, or his features were twisted by fear, or the like. In other dialects, some of the translation values it has are fade, be dislocated, depart, go insane, deteriorate. (See the entry in the ComprehensiveAramaic Lexicon.) In the Qumran Enoch text, the sinful angels are told "you perverted/corrupted your activity" (שניתן עבדכן).

Now the meaning of Dan 7:7 comes into focus. The fourth beast is not just "different" or even "changed"; it is distorted, or perverted, an even more monstrous creature than they are.  The comparative grade should be used with the translation, in keeping with the use of the particle min with adjectives or participles of this kind: "it was more monstrous than [or perhaps: stranger than] the beasts that preceded it": a fitting description of a creature with iron teeth and ten horns!

 BIBLIOGRAPHY: Comprehensive Aramaic Lexicon, s. v. šny. 

A. E. Cowley, Anti-Semite

A. E. Cowley was a major Semitics scholar of the early twentieth century, and the head of the Bodleian library from 1919-1931.  His Wikipedia page is here. 

Despite his still-important activity in the realm of Hebraica, you can encounter some nasty anti-Semitism in the introduction to his Aramaic Papyri of the 5th century BC (1923). Speaking of the Jewish colony on Elephantine, he says

 "they aroused anti-Jewish feeling, and suffered violence which they ascribed, as always and probably with as little reason then as now, to hatred of their religion. ... [M]uch is also to be ascribed to natural suspicion of a community with customs differing from those of its neighbours, holding aloof from the common pursuits of its fellow-citizens, and showing contempt or hostility to everything outside itself."

 Oof. Thus he explains the destruction of the YHW temple by the adherents of the god Khnub in 417 BCE.  This description traffics in a number of well-known anti-Semitic tropes that would bear evil fruit less than two decades later in Nazi Germany. 

This is the same Cowley who translated the Gesenius-Kautzsch Hebrew grammar, still in use today (GKC = Gesenius Kautzsch Cowley).  He is still cited, without comment, and his despicable views forgotten. 

Father's Day 2020

Posted on Facebook June 20

My father died in 1985, at a younger age than I am now. He was a real "greatest generation" guy, an Air Force vet, a pilot, a weatherman, a smoker and a drinker. My life choices were a constant source of puzzlement to him, although he dutifully financed them (usually). He was an enthusiastic golfer, an activity inherited and enhanced by my brother Chuck Cook, and although I've never taken up the sport, by sheer osmosis I've acquired more knowledge about it than I can use.

For some reason, when I was around 10 or 11, my father would take me periodically to the golf course and pay me a nickel a hole (rounded up to $1.00 for 18 holes) to "caddy" for him — that is, to drag the wheeled tripod holding his bag while he played, by himself. I have no idea why he did this; maybe my mother made him, to spend time with his younger son; or maybe he was hoping (against hope) that I would acquire an interest he could relate to. I didn't, and I was pretty bored by this activity, but a dollar was major coin for a 5th grader in the early sixties. Whenever he asked, I went.

Those caddying days make an oddly vivid memory, and I can still close my eyes and see him under the summer sun, striding ahead of me, holding a club for the next shot, while I toiled behind with the bag. Happy Father's Day, major, wherever you are.

Statement regarding Prof. Jan Joosten

FIrst posted on Facebook, June 23, 2020.

I am appalled and saddened by the recent news about Prof. Jan Joosten and his arrest as a collector of child pornography. Our compassion should be extended, first, to the innocent children exploited to make this filth. I also feel that Jan should be pitied as someone who fell into an addiction which, I do not doubt, he earnestly wants to be liberated from. In his own way, he too has been exploited by the pornographers. Our rage should be expended mainly on the producers and criminals who produce this garbage, and those who profit from it.

The wrong response to Jan's misdeeds – which he will and should pay a steep price for – is to ban, censor, and eliminate Jan's scholarly work. His work as one of the finest Hebraists of our time stands on its own, and is indispensable. I don't see how his crimes are relevant to an assessment of his work, nor do I see, going forward, how we are to manage as a guild if we have to inspect everyone's rap sheet and download history before we engage with their work.

Indeed, I am surprised (sort of) that the academy, so constantly on guard against any hint of encroachment on First Amendment rights, is eager to erase the outstanding work of one of their own for his deplorable consumption of heinous pornography – and yet would never countenance any movement or legislation to remove the scourge of pornography from the Internet. In fact, such a suggestion would no doubt be met with howls of rage from those now calling for Jan's head.

I for one will pray for the children (I am a father and a grandfather), and for Jan and his family. For the pornographers, I wish nothing but ill. As for Jan's scholarly work, I will continue to use it, cite it, and honor it for its excellence.

Comments welcome. Trolls will be deleted.

Umpteenth Annual Ralphies

It's that time again.  In accordance with time-honored tradition, and in order to keep my legions of internet fans happy, I offer the latest iteration of the famous Ralphies. Without further ado...

GREATEST SPORTING EVENT OF THE YEAR AND POSSIBLY IN AMERICAN HISTORY:  The Washington Nationals win the World Series.  The last time "my" team won a world championship it was the LA Lakers in 1988 (although there was that 2005  national championship by the Texas Longhorns), so it's been a long wait.  I'm glad I was able to see the Nats play this year (typically, coming back in the bottom of the 9^th to beat the Miami Marlins on Aug. 30) and to join in a stadium of people singing "Baby Shark." I was also able to join in the madhouse that was the victory parade.

MOVIES:  How many movies did I see in the theater this year? Three, I think: Avengers Endgame, The Rise of Skywalker, and Little Women.  All were excellent, although the critics didn't like Skywalker.  To spite them, I hereby make it my Movie of the Year.

MOST LOATHSOME POLITICIAN:  Donald Trump could win this category every year, but why give him the satisfaction? Instead the Ralphie goes to Sith Lord Mitch McConnell, who established new lows, even for a Republican, in political cowardice and corruption.

TV:  There is so little of value on TV these days, unless you've shelled out for all the myriad online and premium cable services.  I haven't.  The only one I shell out to (which I won't give free advertising to, but it rhymes with Shamazon) also provided what has to be the funniest (and most poignant) series ever, namely Fleabag.

BEST TRIP:  I traveled more than last year, and each of the trips — to Toronto, Hilton Head (SC), San Diego, and San Jose —had something special about them. But I'm going to go with San Jose because of the presence of a certain grand infant, who was celebrating his first birthday.

MUSIC:  There's always lots of good music, if you look in the right places.  Some of the places I looked turned up tunes like "So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings" (Caroline Polachek), "You're No Good" (the Chromatics), "Dylan Thomas" (Better Oblivion Community Center), "Harmony Hall" (Vampire Weekend), "Stay High" (Brittany Howard), "Peach Fuzz" (Caamp), and no doubt others that I've overlooked.   I'm always on the lookout for some great guitar playing — not shredders or showoffs, but something clear and spare and emotional.  The most beguiling riff I head all year was in "Misheard" (Moaning).  But the Song of the Year was not a new one.  I was late to the Alabama Shakes party and missed a lot, seemingly. However, "Hold On" played on repeat in my head for most of the summer, and has to get the Ralphie.

BEST CHURCH: The Washington National Cathedral.

CONCERTS:  I actually saw three! Lazer Lloyd (excellent axeman), Ex Hex (in Toronto), and the aforementioned Moaning (opening for Ex Hex).  All the artists are highly recommended.

BOOKS:  I always forget what I've read, because I read a lot. But one book stands out.  For fiction I have to give the Ralphie to the tetralogy Book of the Long Sun, by Gene Wolfe (who died this year).  No better writer has worked in the sci-fi idiom.  Non-fiction is a tougher call, and I've got to leave it blank until I think of something. 

All right, you trolls, that's enough for now.  Have a great 2020, the last year of the decade!

Why and When Did Nebuchadnezzar Regain His Reason?

The story of King Nebuchadnezzar's madness is well-known to Bible readers. In Daniel 4, we hear of the king's overweening pride and his humbling at the hands of God, as he loses his faculties and lives like an animal.  His sentence is that he shall live like this "until seven times shall pass."  Whatever be the exact meaning of "seven times" (seven seasons?), it must refer to a definite period of time.

What happens next? According to Dan 4:31 (English 4:34), "When that period was over, I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned to me.  I blessed the Most High,   and praised and honored the one who lives forever."  This passage seems to clearly state that, first, the king lifted his eyes, then his reason returned, and then he blessed God.

However, I have my doubts.  For one thing, why did the still insane king raise his eyes? It seems most reasonable that he would lift his eyes to heaven as he prepares to bless and praise the Most High. But in that case, his reason must already have returned to him.  Is this not contrary to the wording of the verse?

 It should be noted that the verbal conjugation of "returned" (יתוב) is different than that of "lifted" (נטלת) and "blessed" (ברכת).  Although the prefix-conjugation normally has a future-modal meaning in Biblical Aramaic, sometimes it is used in stories to give background information on the narrated events.  In this case, we might capture this nuance by translating as follows: "I lifted my eyes to heaven — for my reason returned to me — and I blessed the Most High."

Why did Nebuchadnezzar's reason return? It was not because he realized his sin and praised God, as is sometimes stated, but simply because his time of punishment was over, as the text clearly says.  His term of humiliation ("seven times") having passed, his reason returned to him, and the now humbled king gave praise to God.

THOUGHTS ABOUT "OTHER"/"ANOTHER"

In English, "other" and the related "another" have different logical meanings.  Sometimes "another" can mean "another of the same kind," as in "I'll have another cookie," meaning, "I'll have an additional cookie."  But the same words in a different context could have a different meaning.  "I can't eat cookies with nuts, could I have another cookie?", meaning, "Could I have a cookie of a different kind?" The Collins dictionary spells this out here.

https://www.collinsdictionary.com/us/dictionary/english/another

Hebrew and Aramaic have the same logical ambiguity in their words for "other, another." Lexicographically, should these different logical meanings form part of a dictionary entry?  We saw above that the Collins dictionary does do this for English.  But Hebrew and Aramaic dictionaries do not divide the senses up in this way.  Since I have written a couple of dictionaries, and am working on another (!), I'm wondering about it.  If a particular sense  is completely context-dependent and not signalled by some grammatical difference, is it part of the "meaning"? If not, does it belong in the entry?

Of course, this is part of the age-old lexicographers' polysemy dilemma. When do different contextual modulations of a word's meaning become identifiable as different senses? And is there a principled way in which to spell out how these different meanings are related? E.g., is one more basic, and the others (!) have emerged from it in some identifiable way (metonymy, metaphor, or the like)?

Or in the case of "other," if there is no clear way in which one sense diachronically presupposes another (!), and no difference in phonological form or morphosyntactic frame, do these senses inhere in the word at all?  Perhaps not.  Perhaps here instead of polysemy we have vagueness (in the technical sense of a word that is just non-specific about certain features).

 In that case, how do we deal with these issues in the dictionary? It might be possible to incorporate the necessary vagueness into the definition itself.  In the case of "another/other" (Heb. אחר, Aramaic אוחרן), we have to start with the fact that the word is anaphoric, that is, it always refers to something already mentioned in the discourse, the antecedent.  What "another/other," etc. means as an adjective is "not the antecedent, but similar to it." In any particular context, either the "not the antecedent" (different) or the "similar to it" (second, additional) part may be highlighted.  The logical freight of "another/other" depends on the meaning of the antecedent, not on any inherent semanteme in the adjective itself.

In Gen 26:22 for instance, we have "And he removed from thence, and digged another well," in context, an additional well; a second token of the same type (well).  In Gen 29:19, we have "And Laban said, It is better that I give her to thee, than that I should give her to another man." Here the antecedent (the man Jacob) is a type with a single token (the man who is Jacob); hence another man does not mean "a second man, in addition to Jacob" but "a different man, who is not Jacob."

Therefore an entry based on a clear semantic understanding should express the word's vagueness, which is modulated by the context.  Semitic dictionaries have done this mainly by simply using European glosses that are themselves vague.  I'm not sure this is the best approach, but I'm still thinking about the best way to approach this.