NO FAITHFUL OATHS: A COMPARISON OF ESAU’S SPEECH IN JUBILEES 37:18-23 WITH ACHILLES’ SPEECH IN ILIAD 22.260-272 ! by JAMES R. HAMRICK ! A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES Master of Arts in Biblical Studies ! We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard ! ! ............................................................................... ! Dr. James M. Scott, Dr. theol.; Thesis Supervisor ! ! ................................................................................ ! Dr. Dirk Büchner, D. Litt.; Second Reader ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! TRINITY WESTERN UNIVERSITY June 2014 © James R. Hamrick i ABSTRACT Since the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls in the mid-twentieth century scholars have made significant progress in understanding the Book of Jubilees, yet very little work has been done exploring this composition within its broader non-Jewish Hellenistic literary and cultural context. The handful of studies that have addressed this issue show that Jubilees was conversant with Greek intellectual traditions, demonstrating the potential fruitfulness of this area of research and the need to explore it further. This thesis attempts a modest contribution to this task by examining Esau's speech to Jacob in Jubilees 37:18-23 in light of Achilles' speech to Hector in Iliad 22:260-272. This comparison reveals that Esau’s speech exhibits notable similarities to Achilles’ speech in literary setting, rhetorical purpose, rhetorical mechanism, use of imagery, syntax, vocabulary, and characterization. These similarities are best explained as the result of the author of Jubilees intentionally adopting and adapting elements of the Iliad for his own purposes. ii TABLE OF CONTENTS Abstract…………………………………………………………………………………......…i Table of Contents................................................................................................................ii-iv Introduction………………………………………………………………………………….1 Chapter 1: Hellenism and Jubilees -- A Brief Review of Scholarship………………….3 Chapter 2: Achilles…………………………………………………………………………14 Literary Context………………………………………………………………………….14 The Opening Plea……………………………………………………...............................16 The Speech…………………………………………………………….............................20 The Resolution………………………………………………...........................................31 Characterization………………………………………………………………………….34 Animal Imagery……………………………………………………………….….35 Refusal of an Oath………………………………………………………………..37 Shaming Hector’s Corpse………………………………………………………...39 Reception History………………………………………………………………..45 Chapter 3: Esau......................................................................................................................61 Literary Context…………………………………………………………………………61 The Book of Jubilees…………………………………………………………….61 iii Source-Critical Context…………………………………………………….…….62 Immediate Literary Context………………………………………………….…..66 Text and Translation……………………………………………………………………..70 Ge‘ez Text…………………………………………………………………..……72 Translation……………………………………………………………………….73 The Opening Plea……………………………………………………...............................74 The Speech………………………………………………………….................................75 Humans and Snakes……………………………………………………................75 The Conditional Statements……………………………………………...............78 The Physical Transformation Statements………………………..79 The Social Transformation Statements…………………………..87 Separated Breasts………………………………………………...93 The Speech’s Conclusion………………………………………………...............94 The Resolution……………………………………………………...................................95 Characterization………………………………………………………………………….96 Animals…………………………………………………………………………..97 Oaths……………………………………………………………………………101 Chapter 4: Comparison…………………………………………………………………104 iv Literary Context……………………………………………………………...…………109 The Opening Plea…………………………………………………….............................112 The Speech……………………………………………………………...........................112 The Resolution……………………………………………………….............................120 Characterization………………………………………………………………………...122 Additional Points of Contact with Homeric Epic and the Broader Greek Tradition…...124 Accessibility…………………………………………………………………………….137 The Epic of Theodotus..........................................................................................144 Tobit.....................................................................................................................146 Ben Sira................................................................................................................147 Rabbinic Literature...............................................................................................150 Motivation...........................................................................................................151 Analogy…………………………………………………………………………………153 Interpretability……………………………………………………………………….....159 Chapter 5: Conclusion……………………………………………………………………169 Bibliography.........................................................................................................................176 Appendix I: Notes on the Text of Jubilees 37:17-25.........................................................190 1 INTRODUCTION A major desideratum for scholarship on the Book of Jubilees is exploration of this Palestinian Jewish composition within the context of the broader Hellenistic cultural and literary world. With this study we attempt a modest contribution to this task by examining Esau's speech to Jacob in Jubilees 37:18-23 in light of Achilles' speech to Hector in Iliad 22:260-272. We will argue that Esau’s speech exhibits notable similarities to Achilles’ speech in literary setting, rhetorical purpose, rhetorical mechanism, use of imagery, syntax, vocabulary, and characterization, and that these similarities are best explained as the result of the author of Jubilees intentionally adopting and adapting elements of the Iliad for his own purposes. We will begin our study with a brief and selective history of scholarship on the relationship between Jubilees and the Hellenisticc world. The purpose here will be to situate our own argument within existing scholarly discourse on Jubilees, as well as to identify antecedents and analogues that will both strengthen our case and guide our interpretation of the data. We are writing under the assumption that the best kinds of comparative works are ones that treat the texts being compared with their own individual integrity. Before we compare two texts we need to understand them in their own right, on their own terms, and in their own respective contexts.1 Beyond the fact that it seems fitting to show such respect to the texts, a careful individual analysis of the works may also alert us to similarities we might otherwise have missed as well as prevent superficial comparisons. Thus, following our history of scholarship we will 1 Although if one text is ultimately dependent on another, that text cannot be treated with integrity until it has been studied in light of its antecedent. 2 give extensive (though not exhaustive) individual treatments to the speeches of Achilles and Esau. While we want to take each text seriously in its own right, our discussions will be structured in a way that will allow for easier comparison. Finally, we will engage in the work of comparison between our two texts, looking at their various points of similarity and dissimilarity. While we believe that such a comparison is valuable regardless of how one understands the genetic relationship between the two texts, we will argue that there is enough evidence within the texts themselves and in the broader literary and cultural context to make a plausible case for the influence of the Iliad on Esau's speech. 3 CHAPTER ONE HELLENISM AND JUBILEES: A BRIEF REVIEW OF SCHOLARSHIP Since the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls research on Jubilees has expanded significantly. 1 Despite the increased scholarly attention, there are relatively few studies that seek to understand Jubilees as a text that has been complexly shaped by and in turn contributes to its broader, nonJewish Hellenistic literary and cultural environment.2 There may be several reasons for this. First, since the Qumran discoveries have been the impetus for much of the growth in Jubilees research, scholarship has been particularly focused on exploring the relationship between Jubilees and the Qumran community. 3 Second, in spite of the work of scholars like Martin Hengel, many still seem to assume a dichotomy between Palestinian and Hellenistic/Diaspora Judaism. It is assumed the latter texts have interacted quite seriously with the broader Greco-Roman world, while the former texts have been somewhat insulated from such influences. Third, since Jubilees 1 Compare, for instance, the size of the pre-Qumran bibliography and the post-Qumran bibliography in Veronika Bachmann and Isaac W. Oliver's "The Book of Jubilees: A Bibliography, 1850-Present," in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees (ed. Gabriele Boccaccini and Giovanni Ibba; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 441-468. The preQumran bibliography consists of 4 pages and the post-Qumran bibliography consists of over 22. 2 Even Martin Hengel gives the book little attention in his Judaism and Hellenism: Studies in Their Encounter in Palestine During the Early Hellenistic Period (trans. John Bowden; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974). As Oliver and Bachmann note: "Surprisingly, Jubilees was mentioned rather marginally in Hengel's influential work about Second Temple Judaism." Isaac W. Oliver and Veronika Bachmann, "The Book of Jubilees: An Annotated Bibliography from the First German Translation of 1850 to the Enoch Seminar of 2007," Henoch 31(2009): 136. This may be partly due to the fact that Hengel seems to have assumed a date for Jubilees somewhat later in the second century B.C. E. and the focus of his work is a bit earlier (Judaism and Hellenism, 74). 3 Research on Hellenism and the Qumran community similarly remains a lacuna in scholarship. Hengel referred to "Qumran and Hellenism" or "Essenism and Hellenistic civilization" as a "rich and neglected subject" that is in need of a monograph length study. Martin Hengel, "Qumran and 4 has a nationalistic and separatist character, it is assumed that where it does show knowledge of or interaction with its broader Hellenistic cultural context that it must be actively rejecting this context. Fortunately there are some significant exceptions to these generalizations of scholarship, and we believe these exceptions demonstrate the importance of studying Jubilees within its broader Hellenic literary and cultural context. In this chapter we briefly explore some of these exceptions, offering a cursory survey of the history of English language scholarship on Jubilees and Hellenism.4 In some ways, the idea that Jubilees interacts with its Hellenic environment should be relatively uncontroversial. In their attempts to date the book scholars often note that the author of Jubilees was aware of and reacting to some of the practices that were introduced during the Hellenism," in Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. John J. Collins and Robert Kugler; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 55. 4 We are not attempting to provide an exhaustive survey. Our focus on English language scholarship means we have not dealt, for instance, with Adolphe Büchler's "Traces des idées et des coutumes hellénistiques dans le Livre des Jubilés," REJ 89 (1930): 321-348. We also have not interacted with some of the earlier German language scholarship on Jubilees that argued for a Hellenistic-Jewish and/or non-Palestinian provenance for the work. Oliver and Bachmann's "The Book of Jubilees: An Annotated Bibliography" summarizes the arguments of these earlier scholars. Adolphe Büchler also gives a brief summary of these positions in "Studies in the Book of Jubilees," REJ 82 (1926): 254-256. This willingness among some pre-Qumran scholars to identify Jubilees as an originally Greek composition and/or a book from the Diaspora/"Hellenistic" Judaism seems to have been largely based on similarities between Jubilees' source-text for Genesis-Exodus and the LXX as well as similarities between some of its expansions and Jewish works identified as "Hellenistic." Qumran has confirmed that Jubilees was a Hebrew composition (though we cannot rule out Greek source texts), the provenance of some of the parallel "Hellenistic" Jewish works have since been placed in Palestine rather than the Diaspora (Tobit, for instance; Büchler, "Studies in the Book of Jubilees," 255), and the distinction between Palestinian/Rabbinic and Diaspora/Hellenistic Judaism has been seriously challenged (though not entirely abandoned). 5 Hellenistic reforms in Jerusalem, specifically the nudity of the gymnasium.5 Jubilees' response to nudity is just one example of a larger concern about contamination from the surrounding nations.6 Such concern does not necessitate direct knowledge of Greek literature and traditions, but it does show us that the author of Jubilees was aware of and responding to the acculturation of some contemporary Jews to allegedly non-Jewish traditions. Such internal evidence suggests that we should, at a very minimum, be attuned to the ways in which Jubilees may reference and allude to Greek traditions in polemical contexts. Some scholars have explored Jubilees' interaction with broader Hellenic culture further than passing references to the polemic against Greek nudity. Most notable are P.S. Alexander and James M. Scott's respective treatments of geographical traditions in chapters 8-9. Alexander makes the argument that Jubilees' version of the Gen 10 Table of Nations tradition has been shaped not only by the Old Testament, but also by Greek geographical conceptions, specifically the Ionian map. Alexander sees the imago mundi of Jubilees as a clever integration of both Israelite and Greek geography, with biblical elements worked into a basic Ionian framework. This Ionian framework consisted of a vision of the earth as a three-continent disc with Delphi as its center. This disc was surrounded by an ocean that made three primary incursions into the land mass. In the hands of our ancient author this map was modified so that Jerusalem rather than Delphi was the earth's center-point and the three continents were identified with the three sons of Noah.7 Additionally, sacred sites like the garden of Eden and Sinai were incorporated.8 If 5 James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001), 20-21. The key passage is Jub. 3:30-31. 6 Jub. 1:9, 13-14, 19; 6:35-37; 15:34; and 22:16-18. 7 Cf. Ezek 38:12. 6 correct, Alexander's argument has important implications for our own study and for Jubilees scholarship in general.9 First, his specific proposal provides an analogue for our own argument, as we will posit a similar integration of Greek and Israelite models in Esau's speech. Second, and more importantly, Alexander's argument provides support for the idea that the author of Jubilees — or at least the author(s) of some of the texts and traditions that were incorporated into Jubilees — was conversant with the broader Hellenistic world and capable of creatively appropriating non-Jewish traditions. In this regard Alexander makes the following bold statement, worth quoting in full: If what we have argued above is correct, then the world map represents in unusually concrete form the harmonisation of the Bible and 'science': the author of Jubilees interpreted the Bible in the light of the non-Jewish 'scientific' knowledge of his day. He was, it seems, open and receptive to such alien knowledge and envisaged no fundamental clash between it and the truth of the Bible. We found plenty of evidence that he was acquainted with Greek geography and that his knowledge of the subject was in certain respects rather advanced . . . In terms of general Hellenistic scholarship his geographical knowledge must be adjudged perfectly respectable: it is roughly on a par with that displayed in Ps-Artistotle's De Mundo. Knowledge of this order surely argues that the author of Jubilees could read Greek and had studied the Greek geographical literature. The original Hebrew Jubilees was probably written in Palestine in the mid-second century BC. The Jubilees world map is one of the clearest examples we possess of the impact of Hellenistic thought on the Palestinian Jewish cultural milieu at this period.10 8 P.S. Alexander, "Notes on the 'Imago Mundi' of the Book of Jubilees," JJS 33 (1982): 198-199. VanderKam calls the parallels between Jubilees and the Greek geographical tradition identified by Alexander and by Gustav Hölscher (Drei Erdkarten: Ein Beitrag zur Erkenntnis des hebräischen Altertums [Sitzungsberichte der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften, philosophischhistorische Klasse 1944/1948, 3; Heidelberg: Carl Winter, Universitätsverlag, 1949], 57-73) before him "impressive." James C. VanderKam, "Putting Them in Their Place: Geography as an Evaluative Tool," in Pursuing the Text: Studies in Honor of Ben Zion Wacholder on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (ed. John C. Reeves and John Kampen; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994), 63. 10 P.S. Alexander, "Imago Mundi," 210-211. 9 7 In his work on the imago mundi of Jubilees James Scott also notes potential influences from the Greek world, particularly the pereiegesis tradition.11 He observes the similarities between Jubilees' tripartite division of the earth into three climactic zones and the Greco-Roman klimata tradition, which similarly identifies three major climates and depicts the author's homeland as the ideal, temperate zone.12 Jubilees 8:30 reads: !"#$ % &'( % )*+ % !,-. % /, % 0(1 % )*+ % !,-. % 2,3 % 40(1 % !4556 %*70 % $7#8 % )*+ % 9&( % !9:; < . . . [the land of Japheth] is cold, and the land of Ham is hot, but the land of Shem is not hot or cold because it is mixed with cold and heat.13 What may seem like an innocuous geographical detail actually becomes laden with meaning when read against a broader Greco-Roman background. In the opening chapter to his The Invention of Racism in Classical Antiquity Benjamin Isaac explores the persistent and varied Greco-Roman ethnographic tradition that saw an integral connection between the physical environment of a region and the social, physical, and cultural characteristics of its inhabitants. 14 According to these ancient authors factors such as temperature and terrain played a major role in shaping people groups. This link between physical environment and ethnic characteristics was used in good ethnocentric fashion to elevate a given author's own people and homeland over that of foreign lands and peoples. The tradition is not unanimous, however, concerning what 11 James M. Scott, Geography in Early Judaism and Christianity: The Book of Jubilees (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 32 and 193 n.32. 12 Scott, Geography, 33-34; Alexander, "Imago Mundi," 203. 13 Unless otherwise noted, the Ge'ez text and all English quotations of Jubilees are taken from James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (2 vols.; CSCO 510-511; Scriptores Aethiopici 8788; Lovanii: E. Peeters, 1989). 14 Benjamin H. Isaac, The Invention of Racism in Classical Antiquity (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004), 55-178. 8 environmental conditions led to given character traits in a people. For example, some tradents actually denigrate the peoples who dwell in moderate climates, claiming that such people are soft and weak. Harsher climates and terrains produce people that are tougher. But there is another tradition that sees the moderate climates as the best blend of the otherwise extreme characteristics of those who dwell in hot and cold climates. For instance, "There is . . . evidence that Panaetius and others who were Platonists asserted that a mild and well-balanced climate, such as that of Attica, is conducive to wisdom. This idea also occurs elsewhere in Plato's work. In the Timaeus he writes that the goddess Athena herself had chosen the site of Athens, for it has a 'temperate climate throughout the seasons (which) would bring forth men of surpassing wisdom.'"15 Aristotle and the Roman Vitruvius illustrate this ancient geographical principle well: The peoples of cold countries generally, and particularly those of Europe, are full of spirit, but deficient in skill and intelligence; and this is why they continue to remain comparatively free, but attain no political development and show no capacity for governing others. The people of Asia are endowed with skill and intelligence, but are deficient in spirit; and this is why they continue to be peoples of subjects and slaves. The Greek stock, intermediate in geographical position, unites the qualities of both sets of peoples. It possesses both spirit and intelligence: the one quality makes it continue free; the other enables it to attain the highest political development, and to show a capacity for governing every other people – if only it could once achieve political unity.16 This is also the reason why the races that are bred in the north are of vast height and have fair complexions, straight red hair, gray eyes, and a great deal of blood, owing to the abundance of moisture and the coolness of the atmosphere. On the contrary, those that are nearest to the southern half of the axis, and that lie directly under the sun's course, are of lower stature, with a swarthy complexion, hair curling, black eyes, and but little blood on 15 Isaac, Invention of Racism, 70. The primary references he cites are Proclus' Timaeum 50b and Plato's Timaeus 24c. He also points us towards Photius' Bibliotheca 249.441a.13ff and Critias 109c; 111e. 16 Aristotle, Politica 1327b. Quoted in Isaac, Invention of Racism, 70-71. 9 account of the force of the sun. Hence, too this poverty of blood makes them over-timid to stand up against the sword, but great heat and fevers they can endure without timidity, because their frames are bred up in the raging heat. Hence, men that are born in the north are rendered over-timid and weak by fever, but their wealth of blood enables them to stand up against the sword without timidity. The pitch of the voice is likewise different . . . further it is owing to the rarity of the atmosphere that southern nations, with their keen intelligence due to the heat, are very free and swift in the devising of schemes, while northern nations, being enveloped in a dense atmosphere and chilled by moisture from the obstructing air, have but a sluggish intelligence. . . But although southern nations have the keenest wits, and are infinitely clever in forming schemes, yet the moment it comes to displaying valour, they succumb because all manliness of spirit is sucked out of them by the sun. On the other hand, men born in cold countries are indeed readier to meet the shock of arms with great courage and without timidity, but their wits are so slow that they will rush to the charge inconsiderately and inexpertly, thus defeating their own devices . . . the truly perfect territory, situated under the middle of the heaven, and having on each side the entire extent of the world and its countries, is that which is occupied by the Roman people. In fact, the races of Italy are the most perfectly constituted in both respects – in bodily form and in mental activity to correspond to their valour . . . hence it was the divine intelligence that set the city of the Roman people in a peerless and temperate country, in order that it might acquire the right to command the whole world.17 Scott brings this tradition to bear on Jub. 8:30, noting that in light of this evidence Shem's placement in the temperate zone "may have been understood in geopolitical terms" and that "the Book of Jubilees clearly expects the descendants of Shem to rule the world from their privileged position in the center of the earth."18 This further confirms Alexander's claim that the author of Jubilees was conversant with broader Hellenistic traditions and was able to creatively appropriate elements of these traditions for his own purposes. Jubilees' use of the climate-zone traditions is another example of the integration of Israelite tradition (the division of the earth amongst the three sons of Noah) with Greek tradition, which again provides an analogue for the arguments we will make regarding Jubilees 37. It is also worth noting the subtlety of Jub. 8:30. There are no explicit textual 17 18 Vitruvius, 6.1.3-11. Quoted in Isaac, Invention of Racism, 83-84. Cf. Strabo 6.4.1 and 9.3.6. Scott, Geography, 33. He points to Jub. 22:11-14, 19:21-22, and 32:18-19. 10 indicators (a quotation of Aristotle for instance) that the author is incorporating non-Jewish traditions and no lengthy explanation of the geopolitical implications of the statement. Rather, he seamlessly incorporates a brief comment in the text that would call forth a rich and meaningful geographical tradition in the minds of the cultured reader. Our survey of scholarship should interact briefly with Cana Werman's 2007 essay "Jubilees in the Hellenistic Context," which is the only English-language resource to entirely devote itself to the broader question of Hellenistic influence in the text. She argues that Jubilees had knowledge of both Hellenistic science and literature and that the text "utilized its familiarity with Hellenizing trends in order to rebut them."19 In her discussion of Hellenistic science in Jubilees Werman draws upon the work of Alexander and affirms the general contours of his arguments. She argues that Jubilees is dependent on the geographical traditions in the Genesis Apocryphon and has revised and expanded these earlier traditions in light of Hellenistic geography. 20 She further argues that "Jubilees had a detailed, presumably written, description of the Ionic map at his disposal. His use of that literature, however, was quite selective, for his primary purpose was to reject its influence . . . Seeking to erect a barrier between the Jewish people and a foreign (in his view, idolatrous) culture, and to combat that culture, Jubilees borrowed a weapon from Hellenistic culture itself . . ."21 It is interesting to note that she (1) believes Jubilees is making use 19 Cana Werman, "Jubilees in the Hellenistic Context," in Heavenly Tablets: Interpretation, Identity and Tradition in Ancient Judaism (ed. Lynn LiDonnici and Andrea Lieber; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 135. 20 Werman, "Hellenistic Context," 136-140. Scott also noted the similarities between Jubilees and Genesis Apocryphon but left the question of dependence, which remains controversial, open (Geography, 28). 21 Werman, "Hellenistic Context," 140. 11 of a literary source and (2) sees the appropriation of Greek geographical traditions as ultimately polemical/subversive. Werman notes other areas where Jubilees exhibits familiarity with non-Jewish traditions and tendencies. In passing she sees the book's dating system as a reflection of the general Hellenistic interest in chronology and sees the use of and emphasis on the Hebrew language as testimony to "an intercultural struggle during the formative period, between the concepts of Judaism and Hellenism."22 These are not her most convincing claims, as interest in chronology could be driven by many factors, and the use of/emphasis on Hebrew could just as easily be seen as a reaction against the longstanding post-exilic use of Aramaic in Palestine as a struggle with Hellenism. More interesting is her argument that Jubilees' description of the rise of civilization and empire reflects an identification of the biblical Nimrod with king Ninus, whom Greek historians identify as the first emperor, which would demonstrate some interaction with Hellenistic historiography. 23 Werman argues that Jubilees was not only familiar with non-Jewish Greek sources, but also interacted with so-called "Hellenistic Jewish literature." This corpus of Jewish literature, which for her includes texts like Ps.-Eupolemus and Artapanus, "was concerned . . . with the affirmation of both Hellenism and Judaism, attempting to combine or at least to harmonize them."24 She identifies two key techniques these authors used to accomplish this goal: the identification of 22 Werman, "Hellenistic Context," 135. Werman does not offer any primary sources regarding a Hellenistic interest in chronology. 23 Werman, "Hellenistic Context," 147-148. She thinks it is likely that the author of Jubilees actually read Hellenistic history books for himself, but admits that these traditions could have been mediated through Jewish sources, such as a hypothetical Hellenistic-Jewish source Jubilees and the Third Sibyl may have shared. 12 biblical and Greek figures and the portrayal of biblical figures as "culture heroes." Jubilees also uses these techniques, but it is for "a diametrically opposite goal."25 Werman's observation that Jubilees participates in some of the same kinds of cultural discourses that we see in so-called Hellenistic Jewish works is good, and it echoes earlier scholars who noticed some similarity between Jubilees and this corpus. 26 She is also right to point out some of the differences between the ways in which Jubilees enters into this discourse and what we find in something like Ps.Eupolemus.27 We must wonder, however, if she improperly frames these differences when she speaks of "diametrically opposite" goals or claims that "whereas Hellenistic Jewry utilized culture heroes as a means of bridging the cultural distance between Judaism and Hellenism, Jubilees deliberately uses them to amplify this distance."28 In actuality, Jubilees' interaction with the non-Jewish world may have more in common with "Hellenistic Judaism" than Werman allows. It is true that Jubilees specifically rejects particular forms of knowledge and practice like astrology while other Jewish authors used the culture hero tactic to sanctify such knowledge, but this does not entail a complete rejection of foreign culture. Neither should we characterize the works of "Hellenistic Jews" as completely ecumenical, as one of the primary points of the culture hero technique is to show that the Jews are superior to their neighbors. At their core, Jubilees and the "Hellenistic" Jews are doing similar things: selectively interacting with and adopting elements and traditions from their broader world and recasting them within a 24 Werman, "Hellenistic Context," 141-142. Werman, "Hellenistic Context," 146. 26 Werman, "Hellenistic Context," 142-151 for her discussion of Jubilees and Hellenistic Jewish historiography. On the earlier scholars see our comments in n.4 above. 27 Werman, "Hellenistic Context," 150-151. 28 Werman, "Hellenistic Context," 151. 25 13 specifically Jewish framework in such a way that the pride and primacy of the Jewish people is maintained. The appropriation of Hellenistic geographical traditions which Werman discusses is really not so different in purpose or method than what we see among the "Hellenists."29 We have not tried to be comprehensive in our review of Jubilees and Hellenism in the history of scholarship, but have rather selected a handful of key sources that provide noteworthy precedents and analogues for our own study. Although the majority of Jubilees scholarship has given little attention to the book's interaction with its broader Hellenic literary and cultural context, the work that has been done in this area supports the idea that Jubilees exhibits knowledge of and intentional, creative interaction with that broader context. Some of the examples we looked at show that the author was able to cleverly integrate both Israelite/Jewish and non-Jewish Greek traditions. Rather than ignoring or rejecting any foreign cultural influence outright, the author of Jubilees was able to adopt and adapt traditions from the Gentiles in a way that served his own religious and nationalistic purposes. Our brief survey of previous scholarship should encourage us to look for other places where Jubilees may have been shaped by conversation with the broader Greek intellectual and literary tradition. One way we might move forward is to begin looking for places where the text may have been influenced by or adapted a specific non-Jewish text. This is precisely what we are attempting to do in the current study. Our goal is to explore the ways in which a specific Jewish literary artifact of the Hellenistic era (Jubilees) may have interacted with a specific text from the available non-Jewish Hellenistic literary and cultural repertoire (the Iliad). 29 Werman similarly contrasts Jubilees and the Jewish philosophical tradition ("Hellenistic Context," 151-157). 14 CHAPTER TWO ACHILLES In the preceding chapter we gave brief attention to the history of scholarship on the question of Jubilees' relationship to the broader Hellenistic world. We saw that although this issue has been largely ignored by the academy, a handful of studies have demonstrated that explorations of Hellenic influence on Jubilees is a promising area of inquiry. These studies provide a useful starting point for our own argument. It should be noted, however, that the scholars surveyed in the previous chapter explored the influence of certain Greek traditions on Jubilees. We are going a step further by arguing that a specific non-Jewish Greek text influenced a particular passage in Jubilees. The remainder of our study will consist of an examination of each of these passages individually, followed by a careful comparison. In this chapter we will explore the older of the two texts, Iliad 22.260-272. We will take a brief look at the literary context, analyze the interchange between Hector and Achilles, and finally give attention to issues of characterization and reception history. Literary Context As one of the foundational literary works of Western civilization, the general storyline of the Iliad is well known. Through its almost 16,000 lines of dactylic hexameter the eighth/seventhcentury B.C.E. epic traditionally attributed to the poet Homer offers a snapshot of the lengthy Trojan war, focusing on the source, transformation, and ultimate satiation of the wrath of the Greek hero Achilles. 15 Our passage is set in the antepenultimate book of the work, where Achilles' wrath reaches its climax. After withdrawing from the Greek offensive against Troy because of the dishonour Agamemmnon showed him, Achilles is lured back into combat by his desire to avenge the death of his companion Patroclus. Driving the Trojans back into the city, Achilles continues to seek the life of the Trojan hero and prince Hector, who ultimately took Patroclus' life. Hector has a choice to make: should he go out and meet swift-footed Achilles in one-on-one combat? Should he remain in the city? Or should he go out unarmed to Achilles to attempt a truce (22.93-130)? Hector's mother and father both urge him not to fight Achilles, fearing that their son will fall at the hands of the formidable Greek hero (22.37-92). Finally, Hector resolves to meet Achilles in combat. However, as Achilles bears down on him, Hector loses his courage and begins to flee (22.136-138). Three times Achilles chases Hector around the city of Troy, preventing him from fleeing into the safety of the city gates. Throughout the Iliad the tides of the war have constantly been altered by the Olympian gods and their various, competing interests and motives. Athena desires to aid Achilles in his pursuit, but Apollo helps Hector. Even though Zeus does not want to see Hector perish, he gives his permission for Achilles to kill him once he realizes that the scale of the fates falls in Achilles' favor (22.208-213). Apollo withdraws from the battle, and by disguising herself as Hector's brother, Deïphobos, Athena convinces Hector to stop running and face Achilles. Hector listens to this deception and turns to face his pursuer (22.226-247). Before casting spears at each other they engage in a brief verbal exchange, which is the focus of our study. In short, Hector requests an oath-bound agreement that the body of the vanquished will be returned to his people for proper burial. 16 We now take a closer look at that initial interchange between Achilles and Hector. We can break it down into three sections: (1) The opening plea; (2) the speech;1 and (3) the resolution. The Opening Plea After reengaging in combat, Hector addresses Achilles: 250 ou‡ s' e¶ti Phle/oß uiJe\, fobh/somai, wJß to\ pa/roß per tri\ß peri\ a‡stu me/ga Pria/mou di/on, oujde/ pot' e¶tlhn mei!nai ejperco/menon: nuvn au•te/ me qumo\ß ajnhvken sth/menai ajnti/a sei!o: eºloimi/ ken h‡ ken aJloi/hn. ajll' a¶ge deuvro qeou\ß ejpidw¿meqa: toi\ ga\r a‡ristoi 255 ma/rturoi e¶ssonati kai\ ejpi/skopoi aJrmonia/wn: ouj ga\r ejg w/ s' e¶kpaglon ajeiki/w, ai¶ ken ejmoi\ Zeu/ß dw/hØ kammoni/hn, sh\n de\ yuch\n ajfe/lwmai, ajll' ejpei\ a‡r ke/ se sulh/sw kluta\ teu/ce', "Acilleuv, nekro\n "Acaioi!sin dw/sw pa/lin: w±ß de\ su\ rJe/zein.2 250 "Son of Peleus, I will no longer run from you, as before this I fled three times around the great city of Priam, and dared not stand to your onfall. But now my spirit in turn has driven me to stand and face you. I must take you now, or I must be taken. Come then, shall we swear before the gods? For these are the highest 255 who shall be witnesses and watch over our agreements. Brutal as you are I will not defile you, if Zeus grants to me that I can wear you out, and take the life from you. But after I have stripped your glorious armor, Achilleus, I will give your corpse back to the Achaians. Do you do likewise."3 1 We use the term "speech" throughout our study to refer to Achilles' and Esau's respective responses to Hector and Jacob. We choose this term as a practical and simple way to describe the portion of the verbal interchanges that we are placing most of our focus on. 2 Text taken from Martin L. West, Homeri Ilias (Monachii: Saur, 2000). 3 Homer, The Iliad (trans. Richmond Lattimore; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011). Unless otherwise noted, all English translations of the Iliad are taken from Lattimore. 17 Hector has resolved to face Achilles in a one-on-one battle to the death, with the ultimate outcome in the hands of Zeus.4 Scenes of one-on-one combat between heroes are characteristic of the Iliad's battle narrations. Most of the encounters occur within the context of group battle, with the epic narrator focusing his lens on individual encounters within the otherwise blurry mess of combat. There are, however, examples of formal single combat, in which two heroes face each other in a more controlled and staged environment with their respective armies watching.5 The two examples of the latter form of combat are the encounters between Menelaus and Paris (3.67382) and between Ajax and Hector (7.37-312). Since these formal bouts of single combat are based on oath-bound agreements,6 it seems that Hector's request to Achilles is partly an attempt to frame their engagement as formal or ceremonial combat that will be subject to agreed upon rules.7 Achilles adamantly rejects this request — there will be no room for guidelines, ceremony, or civility in his encounter with Patroclus' killer. This rejection will make the fight between these two heroes what De Jong describes as a "hybrid" of the two types of Homeric single-combat. 8 It is not bound by formal agreements, but it does occur outside of the context of group combat with the two armies acting as observers. 4 As it assumes this combat to the death, the oath he proposes to Achilles here is different from the oath he entertained as he considered a nonviolent resolution to his conflict with Achilles (22.119). 5 Irene J.F. De Jong, Homer: Iliad. Book XXII. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 121. 6 Il. 3.103-120, 245-301 and 7.66-91. 7 "So [Hector] is in fact proposing a formal heroic duel with Achilleus." Norman Postlethwaite, Homer's Iliad: A Commentary on the Translation of Richmond Lattimore (Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2000), 273. 8 De Jong, Book XXII, 121. 18 Given the prominence of oaths in Achilles' response and in our Jubilees passage it is worthwhile to devote some attention to Hector's offer to Achilles. He begins by calling on Achilles to join him in "giving the gods" (qeou\ß ejpidw/meqa), a unique phrase in the Iliad which seems, based on the context, to be an invocation of the gods as witnesses to an oath. 9 Hector piously states that the gods will be the best witnesses (a‡ristoi ma/rturoi) to observe their agreement, and the best guardians or overseers (ejpi÷skopoi) to ensure it is kept. 10 Hector here invokes the traditional role of the gods to punish the oath-breaker, a role recognized in both the Greek and the biblical traditions.11 This pious optimism seems to contrast with Hector's earlier assessment before his combat with Ajax, where he claimed: "Zeus, son of Kronos, who sits on high, would not bring to fulfillment our oaths, but is found to be of evil intention toward both sides . . ." (7.69-70). Regardless of his earlier statement, in this scene Hector is portrayed as someone who takes oaths seriously and has faith in the ability of the gods to act as just witnesses. 9 Nicholas Richardson, The Iliad: a Commentary (Vol. VI) (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 133. De Jong notes that "the expression virtually amounts to 'let us swear.'" (Book XXII, 123). According to Peter Karavites, "The use of epidometha served to invoke one another's gods as witnesses, denoting the offer of a guarantee to the other side exactly as in Il. 3.276, where Zeus, the god of Ida, was named as witness and the local rivers as divinities invoked to represent the Trojan side." Promise-Giving and Treaty Making: Homer and the Near East (Leiden: Brill, 1992), 34. Cf. Il. 11.314; 17.179; 17.685; and 22.254. Hector's opening phrase of invitation (!!!" #"# $#$%&) has the sense of "but come now!" 10 LSJ, 657. De Jong points us to a similar expression in 3.280, where the verb fula¿ssw is used rather than the noun e˙pi÷skopoß (Book XXII, 123). We find Zeus as "steward" (tami÷aß) of oaths in Euripides' Medea 170. 11 Some of the gods conspire to make sure that it is the Trojans who violate the single-combat oath made in Book III, presumably to provide justification for the ultimate destruction of Troy (4.64-67). 19 Hector indicates his willingness to enter into an agreement with Achilles by speaking the terms of the oath in the first person: "I will not defile you . . . I will give your corpse back . . ." He is not merely describing what the oath could look like ("Let us swear that . . ."), but is binding himself by the oath in the hopes that Achilles will then reciprocate. The agreement he seeks with Achilles is quite simple, and is identical to the one he made with the Achaians before his combat with Ajax (7.76-91): the victor will loot the corpse of the vanquished, but will then return his body unharmed to his people for proper burial.12 In this instance it could be argued that Hector is motivated not by a sense of civility but rather fear for the treatment of his own corpse. His initial flight from Achilles and his lack of a typical combat vaunt when he reengages Achilles may point to pessimism about the outcome of this fight. Given his own suspicion that he will die, Hector wants to ensure that his body will not be shamed. However, the fact that Hector made the same request in his earlier combat with Ajax, a combat that his brother had assured him he would survive (7.52-53), may indicate a genuine desire for mutual civility. 13 Regardless of what Hector's motivations were for his earlier oath with the Achaians and his present oath with Achilles, they have an important proleptic function in the narrative and add "to the suspense and pathos around the theme of the mutilation of his body."14 12 There may be a bit of irony in Hector's statement "After I have stripped your glorious armor Achilles", since Hector is already wearing Achilles' armor which was stripped from the body of Patroclus (17.125). If Hector kills Achilles he will have two sets of his armor, but if Achilles kills Hector he will merely be reclaiming what was already his. De Jong notes that within battle it was expected that the fallen's comrades would fight to reclaim his body. In a ceremonial duel, however, where his comrades are not part of the combat, it would make sense to make such an arrangement beforehand (Book XXII, 125). 13 He has no problem, however, trying to mutilate the body of Patroclus (Il. 18.175-177). 14 De Jong, Book XXII, 124. 20 The Speech We turn now to Achilles' response to Hector's request: 260 to\n d' a‡r' uJpo/dra ijdw\n prose/fh po/daß wjku\ß !Acilleu/ß: " ºEktor, mh/ moi, a‡laste, sunhmosu/naß ajgo/reue. wJß oujk e¶sti le/ousi kai« ajndra/sin oºrkia pista/, oujde\ lu/k oi te kai« a‡rneß oJmo/frona qumo\n e¶c ousin, ajlla\ kaka\ frone/ousi diampere\ß ajllh/loisin, 265 w"ß oujk e¶st' ejme\ kai\ se\ filh/menai, oujde/ ti nw#iœn oºrkia e¶ssontai, pri/n hª eºtero/n ge peso/nta aiºmatoß a•sai ¶Arha, talau/rinon polemisth/n. pantoi/hß ajrethvß mimnh/skeo: nuvn se ma/la crh/ aijcmhth/n t' e¶menai kai\ qarsale/on polemisth/n. 270 ou‡ toi e¶t' e¶sq' uJpa/luxiß, a‡far de/ se Palla\ß !Aqh/nh e¶gcei ejmw#ø dama/saø, nuvn d' ajqro/a pa/nt' ajpotei÷seiß kh/de' ejmw#n eJta/rwn ou"ß e¶k taneß e¶gceiœ qu/iwn."15 260 Then looking darkly at him swift-footed Achilleus answered: "Hektor, argue me no agreements. I cannot forgive you. As there are no trustworthy oaths between men and lions, nor wolves and lambs have spirit that can be brought to agreement but forever these hold feelings of hate for each other, 265 so there can be no love between you and me, nor shall there be oaths between us, but one or the other must fall before then to glut with his blood Ares the god who fights under the shield's guard. Remember every valour of yours, for now the need comes hardest upon you to be a spearman and a bold warrior. 270 There shall be no more escape for you, but Pallas Athene will kill you soon by my spear. You will pay in a lump for all those sorrows of my companions you killed in your spear's fury." Achilles responds by insulting Hector, calling him "insufferable"16 and rejecting his attempt at making an oath-bound covenant.17 After this sharp opening, Achilles drives his point home by 15 Text taken from Martin L. West, Homeri Ilias (Monachii: Saur, 2000). LSJ, 60. This term can also carry the sense of "unforgettable," which has led some translators to read this as a reference to Achilles' inability to forgive Hector, i.e. "I cannot forgive you" 16 21 employing a simile with a doubled vehicle that draws on relationships between animals to emphasize the impossibility of him making any kind of agreement with Hector.18 Since this constitutes our primary point of comparison with Jubilees, it calls for some detailed attention. The simile can be broken down as follows: Vehicle: (a) Just as there are no trustworthy oaths between lions and men (b) And just as wolves and lambs do not have an agreeable spirit (c) but hold feelings of hate for each other Tenor: (a) So there can be no love between Achilles and Hector (b) Or oaths between them (c) Until one or the other falls . . . The three parts of the vehicle correspond exactly with the three lines of verse, while the three parts identified for the tenor cannot be divided as neatly. Part (a) is on the first line of the tenor, part (b) is on the first and second line, and part (c) is on the second and third lines. Still, there is (Lattimore). Willcock suggests "wild" or "uncontrolled." Malcolm M. Willcock, The Iliad of Homer: Books XIII-XXIV (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1984), 295. 17 Achilles uses the term sunhmosu/nh. This is its only occurrence in the Iliad. 18 A simile typically consists of a tenor and a vehicle. The tenor is the thing being referred to, and the vehicle is the imagery used to describe the tenor. In the simile "the Jedi was like a magician," the Jedi is the tenor and the magician is the vehicle. The example we have in Achilles' speech is interesting because we have what Jonathan Ready refers to in passing as a "doubled vehicle" (Character, Narrator, and Simile in the Iliad [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011], 62). We have two sets of images (lions/humans and wolves/lambs) that are being used, rather than one. 22 a clear parallelism between the vehicle and tenor. Achilles is drawing on the proverbial animosity between humans and lions and between wolves and lambs in order to illustrate the utter impossibility of any kind of agreement between himself and Hector.19 This is an example of adynaton, which will be discussed more in the following chapter. In the first part of the vehicle Achilles uses two possessive datives, literally "As there are not to lions and to men faithful oaths," which means "As lions and men do not have faithful oaths."20 Such a construction could be understood at least two different ways. First, it could communicate that there is no faithful oath that exists between lions and men (an interspecies comment). Second, it could be presenting lions and men as analogous in their lack of faithful oaths: lions do not have faithful oaths and neither do men (an intra-species comment). The former is clearly the case based on the emphasis on interspecies animosity in the subsequent wolves/lambs statement. We belabor what seems to be an obvious point only because this question will present itself in our analysis of Esau's speech below. 19 "On the face of it, the equation Achilleus offers is transparent. In order to cast as absurd Hektor's request that Achilleus join him in an agreement and seal it with an oath, Achilleus situates Hektor and himself in a context in which these practices do not occur. Previously happy to fashion agreements and swear oaths, Achilleus now claims that they are irrelevant in the present situation." Ready, Character, Narrator, and Simile, 62. Carroll Moulton claims that "Achilles' grim words on enmity contrast pointedly with Hector's vision of young lovers in 22.125-128" (Similes in the Homeric Poems [Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1977], 85). However, Hector's young lover imagery had the same purpose as Achilles' similes: expressing the impossibility of any rapprochement between the two heroes. Thus Achilles' response may not come as a surprise to Hector. 20 On the possessive dative see Raymond V. Schoder, Vincent C. Horrigan, and Leslie Collins Edwards, A Reading Course in Homeric Greek: Book One (Newburyport, MA: Focus Publishing, 2004), 223; Donald J. Mastronarde, Introduction to Attic Greek (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), 73. 23 The phrase oºrkia pista/ is one of several phrases that are used in Achilles/Hector's exchange to refer to the proposed agreement, with the others being: Hector: qeou\ß ejpidw/meqa; aJrmonia/wn (aJrmoni/a) Achilles: sunhmosu/naß (sunhmosu/nh); oºrkia pista/; oJmo/frona qumo\n; filh/menai; oºrkia Among these various terms oºrkia pista/ has special importance for our study, as it is one of the most significant points of contact between Achilles and Esau's speeches. The term oºrkion (repeated in 22.266), is a different lexeme than the familiar o¢rkoß, although the distinction in meaning between the two is a matter of debate. One way of differentiating them is to see o¢rkoß as a reference to oaths and oºrkion as a reference "to the treaties and the sacrificial animals employed in making them official."21 This distinction seems to hold fairly well when applied to the occurrences of oºrkia pista/ in the Iliad. The modification of the term with pisto/ß likely points to the desired result of these particular oaths/covenant ceremonies: the establishment of faithful relationships between two parties. 22 21 Karavites, Promise-Giving and Treaty Making, 59. It seems likely that the term oºrkion had as its original reference an oath, but in a process of synecdoche came to refer to the treaty/covenant of which it was originally only a single component. From there it could also be applied to other individual elements of the treaty/covenant ceremony, like the sacrificial victims. This is Joseph Plescia's suggestion as well: ". . . horkia must have referred first to the oaths and then, also, to the whole treaty-making ceremony, including the provisions sworn." The Oath and Perjury in Ancient Greece (Tallahassee: Florida State University Press, 1970), 58 n.1. 22 Hesychius ad loc. defines the phrase: oºrkouß ejpi\ pi/stesi. The relationship between faithfulness and oaths is also seen in the negative in texts which discuss unfaithfulness and oathbreaking/perjury together: Wis 14:25; Dionysius Halicarnassus, Antiquitates Romanae 5.33.2; Josephus J.W. 1.260.4. 24 The phrase is distinctively Homeric, with most other examples in Greek antiquity occurring in Homeric quotations.23 There are, however, some extra-Homeric uses, particularly by Greek writers in the Roman period.24 The phrase occurs twelve other times in the Iliad and once in the Odyssey, 25 always being used within contexts of treaties, particularly ones that relate to the cessation of conflict. It refers to Agamemnon's hypothetical truce with the Trojans (2.124), to the agreement between the Trojans and Achaians to end the war through Menelaus and Paris' single combat (3.245, 252, 269, 280, 323; 4.157; 7.351), to the peace/truce that will result from that single combat (3.73, 93, 256, 323), to Agamemnon's reconciliation with Achilles (19.191), and to the peace Zeus encourages between the groups who disagree on how to respond to Odysseus' slaying of the suitors (Od. 24.483). In two instances it clearly refers to the sacrificial victims of the treaty ceremony (Il. 3.245, 256). It is connected on several occasions with the verb te/mnw26 and/or the language of friendship. 27 23 Tryphon, De tropis 21.2.2 (Il. 3.245); Dio Chyrsostum, Orationes 55.15.6 (Il. 7.351); Lucianus, Revivescentes sive piscator (Il. 22.262); Maximus of Tyre, Dissertations 35.6.4-5 (Il. 22.262); Atticus frag. 4.21 (Il. 22.262); Athenaeus of Naucratis, The Deipnosophists 10.26 (Il. 3.245 and 3.269); Porphyry Homeric Questions (Il. 7.350-352). See also the scholia/commentators. 24 Phlegon of Tralles, On Marvels 3.8.18; Julian the Apostate, The Heroic Deeds of Constantius. The singular form with adjective and noun in reverse order occurs in Pindar, Olympia 11.6. 25 Il. 2.124; 3.73, 94, 245, 252, 256, 269, 280, 323; 4.157; 7.351; 19.191; 22.262; Od. 24.483. 26 "Cut faithful oaths" in Il. 2.124; 3.73, 93, 252, 256; 19.191; Od. 24.483. The use of a verb for "cutting" in the context of making a covenant is found in Semitic languages as well, and may ultimately reflect the symbolic dissection of the ceremonial victims. Margo Kitts, Sanctified Violence in Homeric Society: Oath-Making Rituals and Narratives in the Iliad (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 86-87. 27 filo/thß in Il. 3.73; 3.93; 3.256; 3.323; and file/w in Il. 22.265 and Od. 24.485. Karavites offers a helpful discussion of the concept of friendship (filo/thß) within the context of the idea of brotherhood in Ancient Near Eastern treaties. The association of our phrase with the concept of friendship is noteworthy, as it underlines that point that oºrkia pista/ are related to the 25 Achilles is thus emphasizing that there are no truces between lions and human beings. Indeed, a more idiomatic translation might be "Just as there are no peace treaties between lions and men." Their conflict is eternal and cannot be altered by civilizing institutions like covenants, and filo/thß certainly remains an impossibility. From Achilles' perspective this is also the case between himself and Hector. In one sense, the use of oºrkia pista/ as well as the other terms used by both Achilles and Hector to refer to the proposed agreement is somewhat odd, since they seem to overstate the nature of Hector's request. Hector is not asking for the cessation of combat. He assumes one of them will die. He is only asking for respectful treatment of the corpse, although even here he grants the victor the right to plunder the body. In light of his request, his own choice of aJrmoni/a is "remarkable, since the word denotes the act of collecting and fitting disparate parties together in a harmonious whole . . ."28 Achilles uses language which is related to the cessation of conflict (oºrkia pista/) and friendly/loving relations (file/w).29 If the nature of Hector's proposed agreement is being overstated, it is arguably for poetic effect. Further, by overstating the nature of Hector's request, Achilles may be emphasizing just how enraged he really is with Hector — a request for the return of a corpse is to Achilles no different than giving up combat altogether. This "overstatement" reading is not, however, the only way we can understand Achilles' use of oºrkia pista/. We have already mentioned that Hector's requested terms are identical to establishment of peaceful relations between parties. Karavites, Promise-Giving and Treaty Making, 48-58. See also Kitts, Sanctified Violence, 86-87. 28 Karavites, Promise-Giving and Treaty Making, 34. Hector is only indirectly referring to his agreement with Achilles as a aJrmoni/a, since his statement is primarily about the gods being the best guardians of these agreements. 26 the terms of his single combat with Ajax, and that he is attempting to bring his encounter with Achilles under the realm of this quasi-ceremonial encounter. While oºrkia pista/ was not used of Hector and Ajax's encounter, it was used repeatedly in reference to the other example of single combat in the Iliad, that of Paris and Menelaus. Achilles' use of this phrase here may simply emphasize the fact that he does not wish to bring his encounter with Hector into the realm of regulated or ceremonial combat. There is to be nothing civilized about their encounter, only the meting out of vengeance for the death of Patroclus. A final possible connotation of oºrkia pista/ in this context should be considered. We have noted that the phrase can refer specifically to the sacrificial victims of the treaty/covenant ceremony. If this use of the phrase is hovering in the background of 22.262 then Achilles' statement takes on additional meaning. Within the context of the treaty/covenant ceremony the sacrifice of livestock helps bring about peace and cooperation between two parties. The interactions between lions and humans, as portrayed in the Iliad (see below), also revolve around the slaughtering of livestock. In this case, however, it is the unwanted destruction of the livestock by the predatory lions and the human/lion violence that results. The role of livestock in lion/human relations is the exact opposite of the role of the livestock (the oºrkia pista/) in human treaties. We have made some observations on the key phrase oºrkia pista/ and can now proceed to discuss the creatures for whom these faithful oaths are an impossibility. Achilles' invocation of lions resonates well with the rest of the epic, where they are a commonplace among Homer's 29 Willcock, The Iliad of Homer, "to be friends", 295. The other terms Achilles uses are arguably more appropriate to the context. 27 famous similes and form "the largest and most complex family of similes in the Iliad."30 Beyond their general use in the Iliad, King notes that lion similes are used to describe important points in Achilles' aristeia.31 Most of the lion similes are what Lonsdale calls the "marauding lion" type, which depict "the confrontation of men and dogs with a wild beast."32 The lion is often portrayed as a predator who attacks, kills, and eats domestic animals like cattle and sheep. 33 This naturally places it in conflict with human shepherds/herdsmen and their dogs, who use spears and torches to chase away and kill the lion.34 In other cases the lion is portrayed as the prey, with humans and dogs pursuing it (perhaps in some cases as a result of or in an attempt to prevent the lion's marauding).35 There is also an example of humans stealing the lion's cubs. 36 While there are some lion similes that do not put lions in conflict with humans, the majority of the longer similes express some kind of antagonism between the two species. 37 They are natural enemies, and as such they are a fitting pair for Achilles to use to make his point. It is worth noting that Achilles could have referenced the relationship between lions and cattle instead. The animosity between humans and lions is mostly secondary: it is because the 30 Martin Mueller, The Iliad (London: Allen & Unwin, 1984), 116. For a list of lion similes see Steven H. Lonsdale, Creatures of Speech: Lion, Herding, and Hunting Similes in the Iliad (Stuttgart: B.G. Teubner, 1990), 142. For a discussion of lion similes and the question of firsthand knowledge of lions in the Homeric world, as well as the appearance of lions in ancient Near Eastern art and royal hunting, see Maureen Alden, "Lions in Paradise: Lion Similes in the Iliad and the Lion Cubs of Il. 18.318-22," The Classical Quarterly 55 (2005): 335-343. 31 Katherine Callen King, Achilles: Paradigms of the War Hero from Homer to the Middle Ages (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), 19-26. 32 Lonsdale, Creatures of Speech, 39-40. 33 For example: Il. 5.161-162; 5.554-558; 10.485-486; 11.172-176; 15.630-636; 16.487-489; 17.61-67; 24.41-43. 34 For example: Il. 5.136-142; 5.554-558; 11.548-555; 12.299-306; 17.109-112; 18.573-586. 35 Il. 3.23-26; 12.41-49; 20.164-173. 36 Il. 18.317-322. 28 lions want to devour the livestock that they become the enemies of humans. Why did Achilles choose lions/humans rather than lions/cattle to make his point? Perhaps because covenant making is a human practice, and it may have seemed more fitting to begin the simile with at least one party (humans) that can actually swear an oath and make a covenant. Whatever the reason, the choice of lions/humans creates a different impression than lions/cattle or the following wolves/lambs pairing. In the Iliad lions and humans are in some respects equally matched, as they are each portrayed as victorious over the other at different times.38 They also both take on the role of hunter/predator, as the lion preys upon cattle and humans pursue lions. This is different from the lion's relationship with cattle or sheep, in which the lion is always the predator and the domestic animals are always the prey. If it were not for the following animal pairing, it might seem that Achilles is conceding that he and Hector are evenly matched. The second part of the tenor invokes another pair of animals that are proverbially irreconcilable: wolves and lambs. Rather than using datives of possession, Achilles employs e¶cousin. Lions and men do not have faithful oaths, and wolves and lambs do not have oJmofro/na qumo\n — an agreeable spirit.39 The use of qumo/ß serves to underline the unchanging nature of these relationships — the lack of concord between wolves and lambs is innate. Though 37 Similes not involving lion/human conflict include: Il. 11.113-119; 16.756-758; and 16.823-826. Lions victorious over humans: Il. 5.136-142 and 17.61-67. Humans victorious over lions: Il. 11.548-555; 12.41-49; 17.109-112, 657-654. 39 This phrase is used to refer to Demeter and Persephone in Homeric Hymns 2.435. Cf. Homeric Hymns 4.391. 38 29 the use of lions fits well within the horizons of the Iliad, the pairing of wolves and lambs does not. They occur together only one other time, in 16.352-355:40 They as wolves make havoc among lambs or young goats in their fury, catching them out of the flocks, when the sheep separate in the mountains, through the thoughtlessness of the shepherd, and the wolves seeing them suddenly snatch them away, and they have no heart for fighting. Ready points to the oddness of Achilles anthropomorphizing the wolves and lambs, animals that Homer does not attribute human qualities to in the same degree he does with lions.41 His solution is to point us away from epic as the source of these images and towards the realm of fable, "wherein wolves and sheep make a proverbially antagonistic pair."42 Conflict between lions and humans is also explored in fable, a connection that was already made in the scholia.43 The third part of the vehicle, introduced by a contrastive, strengthens the point Achilles is trying to make. Whether this third part refers only to the wolves and lambs or to the lions and men as well is difficult to tell, but it does seem to primarily flow from and connect best with the wolves/lambs pairing. The preceding line brought us into the inner lives of wolves and lambs by speaking of their qumo/ß. This line continues by drawing our attention to their mindset and intentions, speaking of their thorough evil-mindedness towards each other. The reciprocal nature of this expression is interesting, since we might normally think of the evil-mindedness in the wolf/lamb pairing as one-way — the wolf as the predator is the one that seeks the harm of the 40 Ready, Character, Narrator, and Simile, 65. Ibid. 42 Ibid., 66. 43 Hartmut Erbse, Scholia Graeca in Homeri Iliadem (Scholia Vetera) Volume 5 (Berolini: Walter de Gruyter, 1977), ad loc. Ready, Character, Narrator, and Simile, 64. 41 30 lamb. Achilles now transitions to the tenor, which he introduces with w‚ß. The first part of the tenor parallels the first part of the vehicle in its arrangement of components (negative particle + "to be" verb + one of the parties + conjunction + the other party + the thing which they do not have between them), although it is grammatically different in its use of an infinitive. Achilles makes clear that there is no love between him and Hector. In addition to general resonance with a covenantal context, the choice of a verb which can have connotations of affection may mirror the internalizing oJmofro/na qumo\n. The second part of the tenor is, like the second part of the vehicle, introduced by oujde/. Achilles brings us full circle with the use of oºrkia. The third part of the tenor is introduced with an illogical pri/n.44 In a typical negative pri/n clause we expect pri/n to designate conditions which must be met in order for the action previously negated to be carried out. For instance, "I will not pay my property taxes until the city addresses the sewer problems." In Achilles' statement, however, he is not actually presenting legitimate conditions that could change his course of action. He tells Hector that there will be no oºrkia until one or the other falls in battle and satiates the thirst of Ares, god of war. At that point, of course, the time for an agreement will have passed. As Wilson points out, the illogic of this statement "intensifies the feeling."45 Achilles' rejection is absolute — Hector will be 44 For a discussion of such clauses associated with Achilles in the Iliad see John R. Wilson, "Negative pri/n Clauses and the Rhetoric of Achilles," Glotta 69 (1991): 179-183. 45 Wilson, "Negative pri/n Clauses," 182. Wilson notes that negative pri/n clauses are used about a quarter of the time in the Iliad to refer to a "hero's encounter with the either/or of life or death in combat." In these passages the hero persists in combat until he either kills or is killed. For example: "But I will not leave off my killing of the proud Trojans until (pri/n) I have penned them inside their city, and attempted Hektor strength against strength, until he has killed me or I have 31 dead before Achilles will make an agreement with him. Of course, even though this is Achilles' intention, he will eventually capitulate to Hector's request, indicating that here he may be saying more than he knows. After rejecting Hector's request with this vivid simile, Achilles puts forth his final challenge to him. He tells him to mentally prepare himself for battle ("Remember every valor of yours . . ."), yet he is assured of his coming victory: "There shall be no more escape for you, but Pallas Athene will kill you soon by my spear." Before throwing his spear Achilles offers one last remark, which reminds the audience that this is ultimately a matter of revenge: "You will pay in a lump for all those sorrows of my companions you killed in your spear's fury." Hector is about to meet his end. The Resolution In many respects the entire remainder of the Iliad narrates the resolution of the conflict between Achilles and Hector. Following their verbal exchange Achilles initiates combat by throwing his spear. Hector manages to avoid it, and this seems to give him courage and optimism for the first time. He taunts Achilles for his own optimism, and throws his first spear at his foe. The audience knows, however, that Hector's blip of hope is misplaced. In an example of dramatic irony, we have been told that Athena has returned Achilles' spear to his hand unbeknownst to Hector. Hector's spear hits Achilles' shield, causing no bodily damage.46 killed him" (Il. 21.224-226). In our passage Achilles is expressing a similar idea, but the main clause is illogical. 46 "The fight itself is wholly typical — A misses B, B hit but fails to pierce A, A kills B . . ." Peter Jones, Homer's Iliad: A Commentary on Three Translations (London: Bristol Classical Press, 2003), 288. 32 Turning to the man he believes to be his brother, Hector asks for a second spear. When he sees Deiphobos is not there he realizes he has been duped by Athena and that the gods have handed him over to death (22.296-305). Resigned to his fate, Hector resolves to die with glory. Pulling his sword he charges at his foe. In these brief verses we see Hector go through three stages: (1) a seemingly lackluster initial engagement with Achilles in which Hector's plea leaves doubt in the audience about his own optimism, (2) a burst of courage and unfounded optimism, and (3) a realization of his certain death paired with a courageous resolve to die well. In the final moment of combat Hector has reached a balance of realism and courage. Achilles launches his spear at Hector a second time, now hitting his mark. The spear goes through Hector's throat, fatally wounding him but leaving his windpipe intact. This allows for one final verbal exchange between the two heroes. Once again Hector asks Achilles to return his body for a proper burial. This time the plea is lengthier and more impassioned: I entreat you, by your life, by your knees, by your parents, do not let the dogs feed on me by the ships of the Achaians, but take yourself the bronze and gold that are there in abundance, those gifts that my father and the lady my mother will give you, and give my body to be taken home again, so that the Trojans and the wives of the Trojans may give me in death my rite of burning (22.338-343). Hector, like other battlefield supplicants, does not have his request granted.47 As before, Achilles vehemently rejects Hector's plea: 47 De Jonge, Book XXII, 143 notes four more battlefield supplications: 6.45-65; 11.130-48; 20.463-72; 21.64-119. She states, "Whereas supplications usually are effective since suppliants are under the protection of Zeus, those on the battlefield are never successful. This may be due to the supplicandi being Agamemnon, who is generally rather violent . . . and Achilles in his present revengeful mood." 33 No more entreating of me, you dog, by knees or parents. I wish only that my spirit and fury would drive me to hack your meat away and eat it raw for the things that you have done to me. So there is no one who can hold the dogs off from your head, not if they bring here and set before me ten times and twenty times the ransom, and promise more in addition, not if Priam son of Dardanos should offer to weigh out your bulk in gold; not even so shall the lady your mother who herself bore you lay you on the death-bed and mourn you: no, but the dogs and the birds will have you all for their feasting (22.345-354). Achilles' language here is even more intense than in his previous rejection. Before he had invoked predatory relationships within the animal world to illustrate the impossibility of any kind of agreement between himself and Hector. Here he continues the animal imagery, this time much more graphically as he wishes that he could bring himself to eat Hector's meat (kre/aß) raw. Previously Achilles had colourfully illustrated the impossibility of rapprochement with Hector through the use of the animal similes and the illogical !"#$ clause. Here he expresses the same impossibility by telling Hector that there is no price high enough to assuage his wrath and allow the body to be ransomed. Even if the ransom were twenty times (and then some!) the going rate, or even if Priam gave him Hector's weight in gold, still Achilles would not return the body. Achilles is not interested in the materialistic honor that is a hero's due — he is interested in revenge. After a prophetic warning to Achilles, Hector dies and Achilles speaks over the body: "Die: and I will take my own death at whatever time Zeus and the rest of the immortals choose to accomplish it" (22.365-366). Following Hector's death his body is stripped of armor, and Achilles proves true to his word. First the Achaians take turns gazing on "the stature and on the imposing beauty of Hector" (22.369-371) while stabbing his corpse and taunting him. Achilles 34 then thinks of "shameful treatment for glorious Hector" (22.395): He runs rope through holes in his ankles and drags Hector's body behind his chariot. The remainder of the Iliad deals with Achilles' continual abuse of Hector's corpse, the mourning of Hector's family, the burial of Patroclus, the gods' protection of Hector's body from mutilation, the gods' ultimate intervention to bring about the return of Hector's body, and finally the surprising encounter between Achilles and Priam in which Achilles allows Hector's body to be ransomed and buried. Characterization We can now ask what kind of character Achilles' speech and surrounding actions reveal him to be. This is an interesting and important question for understanding Achilles and the Iliad in their own right, but will also have implications as we explore the potential influence of this figure and text on Jubilees. Because we will argue for the appropriation of the Iliad's Achilles in a later Jewish text, serious attention needs to be given not only to issues of characterization within the horizons of the epic itself, but also how Achilles' speech and actions were received by subsequent generations. Questions of characterization for the Iliad's Achilles are not easy to answer, since he is perhaps the most complex hero in Homeric epic. This is particularly true of moral appraisals of the figure. Questions of his characterization and moral standing have been debated by readers from the classical world until today. Is Achilles in the right when he withdraws from the Achaian alliance? Is he in the right when he refuses Agamemnon's peace offering in Book IX? Is he in the right when he rejects Hector's request for an agreement? Is he in the right when he abuses 35 Hector's corpse? Since our study focuses on Achilles' exchange with Hector, we will not attempt to answer some of these larger questions about his character, but limit ourselves to the specific issues raised in his speech and immediately surrounding context. We will focus on three of these issues: (1) Achilles' use of animal imagery; (2) the implications of Achilles' refusal to enter into an oath; and (3) Achilles' abuse of Hector's body. While the final point is not a part of Achilles' speech proper, his abuse of Hector's body is the very thing that Hector's plea aims to prevent and that Achilles' speech ultimately affirms will happen. Animal Imagery First, we can ask what Achilles' use of animal imagery in his simile tells us about him as a character. It is common for scholars to see in Achilles' speech a self-identification with the lions and the wolves.48 This is a reasonable reading of the text, since he explicitly compares the relationship of the two sets of animals to his own relationship with Hector, and the order of the referents in the vehicle (lions-humans and wolves-lambs) and the tenor (ejme\ kai\ se/ — AchillesHector) aligns Achilles with the lions and wolves. What are the implications of this identification? We already noted that the lion/human pairing envisions a battle between equals, whereas the wolf/lamb pairing is one of predator and prey. By identifying himself with the wolf in that pairing Achilles is echoing the predator/hunter similes the narrator has used to describe 48 "The syntax of this passage indicates that Achilles views himself as the lion and Hektor as the man, and his later words to Hektor confirm his." King, Achilles, 26. "The anaphora with w‚ß suggests that the beasts' antagonism is being brought into especially close parallel with his and Hector's situation, with an exact correspondence between the three pairs of opponents: lions and men, wolves and sheep, Achilles and Hector. This encourages us to read the simile with the view that the lion and the wolf correspond to Achilles and the man and the sheep to Hector." Michael Clarke, "Between Lions and Men: Images of the Hero in the Iliad," GRBS 36 (1995): 144. 36 him throughout Book XXII, and may be indicating his optimism about the outcome of his combat with Hector. However, the power and strength balance between the creatures is not what is primarily in view here. Rather, it is their incompatibility. It is customary among many scholars to see Achilles' use of this animal imagery as an indication of his departure from the realm of human civility. Achilles becomes, in King's words, the "best of the Achaians."49 Jones claims that "Achilles shows how far beyond the reach of human society he is when he argues that he and Hector are the equivalent of animals when it comes to the human convention of burial."50 One potential difficulty with such a reading is the preponderance of animals amongst the similes in the Iliad. Heroes on both the Achaian and Trojan sides are routinely likened to wild animals like lions and boars.51 If such similes indicate a loss of humanity then Achilles is not the only one to undergo such a transformation: he becomes one of many to demonstrate the animalistic nature of warfare. That being said, there may be a difference between Achilles' use of animals in his simile and many of the other animal similes in the epic. The other similes often refer to the physical behaviors and attitudes of heroes in combat, such as their prowess (17.280-283) or their aggressiveness (10.360-364). In such cases comparing the actions of the hero to the perceived 49 King, Achilles, 13-28. Jones, Homer's Iliad, 294. Consider also: "By his own comparison Achilles is behaving like a lion or a wolf — a creature of the wild that recognizes neither pity nor ai˙dw¿ß." Jinyo Kim, The Pity of Achilles: Oral Style and the Unity of the Iliad (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2000), 141. And "Books 19-22 present Achilles at his most bestial. His viciousness in battle, his rejection of social norms such as oaths and suppliants, his scavenging, and his similes reveal a man on the edge of humanity." John Heath, The Talking Greeks: Speech, Animals, and the Other in Homer, Aeschylus, and Plato (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 124. 51 "All of the major heroes except Aeneas and Odysseus have at least one such [lion] simile that is elaborated to three lines or more." King, Achilles, 19. 50 37 wildness of animals like lions and boars is appropriate and even complimentary. Achilles' simile is different, however, since he is invoking animals within the context of what we might call some of the civilizing institutions of human beings: oath-making, covenants, and friendship. In this sense Achilles may be bringing the civilizing institutions of the human world into the realm of the bestial, the same realm in which combat exists. Once transported into this realm these institutions cease to be meaningful. Such a move parallels the earlier disillusionment that Achilles felt over the honor-system in Book IX.52 Refusal of an Oath This brings us to the second element we wish to address: Achilles' refusal to enter into an oath-bound agreement with Hector. We saw that Achilles twice rejects a request from Hector. First, he rejects Hector's pre-combat request for an oath-bound agreement that the corpse of the defeated will be returned sans armour for proper burial. Then he rejects the dying Hector's second request, which is a supplication to return his body. Below we will give attention to the meaning of Achilles' rejection of the specific nature of Hector's requests (the return of the battle dead for burial), but here we can ask what Achilles' initial rejection of a request for an oath might indicate about him as a character. While the severity of Achilles' response might trouble modern readers, there seems to be no reason why Achilles would be expected to accept and reciprocate Hector's proffered oath. Oaths and the covenants they sealed were sacred in the ancient world, including the Greek tradition, 52 "Fate is the same for the man who holds back, the same if he fights hard. We are all held in a single honor, the brave with the weaklings. A man dies still if he has done nothing, as one who 38 where Zeus meted out justice to the perjurer.53 The primary taboo surrounding oaths, however, was breaking them in the case of promissory oaths or perjuring oneself in the case of an asseverative oath.54 If Achilles swore an oath to Hector and then defiled his corpse, he would have been committing a serious sacrilege. Indeed, it is the Trojans' breaking of an earlier oath that provides one of the major justifications for the continuance of the siege and the eventual fall of the city (4.155-168). This is not the case, however. Achilles is not breaking an oath-bound agreement, but refusing to enter into one. What may be more noteworthy than Achilles' refusal to take an oath is his rejection of Hector's specific request, his resolve to abuse Hector posthumously (discussed below), and his use of the animal relationships in his simile to reject Hector's request. We hinted above that Achilles' simile may be moving a civilizing, human institution into the realm of the bestial, in the process robbing it of its meaning. We have to ask here if Achilles is calling into question the very legitimacy of oaths and covenants, just as he earlier called into question the honor system which provided the motivation and foundation for the aristocratic participation in warfare? As we will see in our discussion of Jubilees, there was a tradition of pessimism about oaths in the ancient world which both Isaac and Esau contribute to in their own ways. Is Achilles participating in this tradition as well? Perhaps — but not necessarily. In light of Achilles' general disillusionment and his use of the bestial imagery in his simile, we could certainly read this as a challenge to the legitimacy of oaths, has done much. Nothing is won for me, now that my heart has gone through its afflictions in forever setting my life on the hazard of battle" (Il. 9.318-322). 53 For Zeus as punisher of perjurers see Judith Fletcher, Performing Oaths in Classical Greek Drama (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 4; Aristophanes, Clouds 396. 54 Plescia, The Oath and Perjury, 83-91; Albert J. Harrill, "Divine Judgment against Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5:1-11): A Stock Scene of Perjury and Death," JBL 130 (2011): 351-369. 39 specifically those oaths involved with treaty/covenant-making. However, we should keep in mind that the focus of Achilles' speech is the rejection of any kind of rapprochement with a specific individual, Hector. He is not explicitly saying that faithful oaths do not exist or are completely meaningless in general, but that there is no possibility of them existing between himself and Hector. Therefore, we should exercise caution about seeing Achilles as one who completely calls into question the meaningfulness of oaths or covenants between humans, while recognizing that the elements do exist in Achilles' speech for later interpreters to read his words in that direction. Shaming Hector's Corpse Finally, we can give attention to Achilles' mistreatment of Hector's body, the very thing that Achilles' rejection of Hector's requested oath foreshadows. Achilles' words reveal that he is committed to mutilating Hector's corpse, and he proves true to his word not long after. What does this tell us about Achilles? Is he engaging in an act of barbarism or impiety? Is he rightfully avenging his fallen comrade? Is he merely engaging in typical practices of warfare? As Segal puts the question, "Does Homer regard the mutilation of the corpse as a cruel and savage act, or does he merely accept it as the ordinary practice of war?"55 Modern scholars are divided over how to read Homer's characterization of Achilles in this case. Some, like Segal, believe that Achilles is 55 Charles Segal, The Theme of the Mutilation of the Corpse in the Iliad (Leiden: Brill, 1971), 10. 40 behaving in a barbaric, impious, or unheroic manner.56 Others believe that he is merely engaging in customary war practices and that Homer does not offer any moral disapproval.57 Regardless of how one interprets Achilles' actions, it is clear that the fate of corpses is a central theme in the Iliad and recurs in the Odyssey as well.58 This is seen, for instance, in the numerous taunts and references to the battle dead being consumed by birds and beasts, 59 the battle over Sarpedon and Patroclus' remains,60 and of course the climactic events involving Hector's body. There is a level of anxiety among combatants and their families on the subject of proper burial and the possibility of the corpse being molested (Il. 22.66-76). It is very important to characters in the Iliad that one receive proper funeral rites and an honorable burial, which consists of ceremonial cremation of the body followed by the burying of the bones (6.416-420; 24.786-805). There are hints that for some the importance of burial was tied to a belief that the departed soul could not enter Hades until the corpse had been tended to, and that the dead were capable of haunting the living until their body was at rest.61 For the most part, however, burial seems to be related to the key values in the Iliad of honor, shame, and memory. The heroes in Homer are primarily concerned with gaining and maintaining honor and fame, something that 56 ". . . the exposure and mutilation of a dead warrior's corpse does indeed arouse in Homer repugnance and even some measure of moral outrage." Segal, Mutilation of the Corpse, 13. 57 Samuel Eliot Bassett, "Achilles' Treatment of Hector's Body" TAPA 64 (1933): 41-65. 58 Od. 11.66-80. 59 For example: Il. 1.4-5; 2.393; 4.237; 8.379-80; and 11.818. 60 The battle over Sarpedon is narrated in Il. 16.508-683, and the battle over Patroclus lasts for more than an entire book (Il. 17.1-18.235). 61 Il. 23.70-74. Frank Tarbell urges some caution about overstating the importance of this idea in Greek thought. "Greek Ideas as to the Effect of Burial on the Future of the Soul" TAPA 15 (1884): 36-45. 41 guarantees them a type of immortality in the memory of subsequent generations.62 They are afraid of doing anything, or having anything done to them, that would bring them shame — both in this life and in their mnemonic afterlife. Having a good death and a proper burial bring honor, while a poor death and the mistreatment of a corpse bring shame (Il. 7.77-91). It is not only the unburied dead that experience shame, but their comrades as well. The anxiety over corpse mistreatment creates a social obligation that one struggle to ensure that their comrade receive a proper burial. To ignore this obligation brings shame (Il. 16.544-545). Thus we see the struggle over Sarpedon's body, followed by the struggle over Patroclus' body, and finally the ransom of Hector's body. The theme of risking oneself to bury a relative, comrade, or countryman that we see in later Greek and Jewish literature is already present in Homer. It is clear that proper burial was important, and that improper burial was seen as something bad and shameful for the deceased. It is also clear that one has an obligation to fight for his friend's corpse. But what about the one who is abusing the corpse? Is there any kind of negative moral or social judgment attached to this? How we answer this depends in part on how we understand vocabulary like ajeiki/zw ("treat unseemly, injure").63 The verb ajeiki/zw and the cognate ajeikh/ß (“unseemly, shameful”; LSJ, 26) are clearly negative words, but the question is 62 Richard Martin, "Glory," in The Homer Encyclopedia (ed. Margalit Finkelberg; Malden, Mass.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2001),315-317. 63 LSJ, 26This verb occurs several times in the latter third of the Iliad where it is used to express the abuse of a fallen enemy's body. In 16.545 and 16.559 it refers to the potential abuse of Sarpedon's body by the Achaians. In 19.26 it refers to the potential of flies and worms fouling Patroclus’ body, showing that it is not only humans who can shame a corpse. The verb is part of Hector's proposed oath in 22.256, where he promises not to mistreat Achilles' corpse beyond taking his armor. Hector's request is of course denied, and the verb is used to describe his postmortem dragging behind the chariot of Achilles in 22.404, 24.22, and 24.54. We also 42 whether or not they cast aspersions on the one doing the act. In other words, is the deed shameful only because it brings shame on the victim, or does it bring shame on the perpetrator as well?64 Unfortunately, this is not an easy question to answer. The scholia reveal disagreement on this issue amongst ancient interpreters and this disagreement continues among scholars today.65 The ambiguity of this language may have contributed to the diverse assessments of Achilles' action and character in the classical and Hellenistic ages, an issue which we will explore further below. Moving beyond vocabulary, it is possible to point to the gods' response to corpse defilement as evidence for Homer's disapproval of these acts. Indeed, the gods express concern over the fate of both Sarpedon’s and Hector's corpses, in both cases intervening to protect them (Il. 16.676-683 and 24.23-24). It must be remembered, however, that it is primarily the gods who sympathize with the Trojans or have a special connection to Sarpedon who are concerned here.66 Their concern may not reflect universal moral indignation as much as it reflects their offense at having something shameful done to mortals whom they love or patronize. The response of the gods, then, would be similar to that of someone like Priam — it is their relationship to the fallen that is primarily in view, not moral principles. The gods also express anxiety over the potential deaths of their favourite mortals, and even intervene to protect them. encounter the cognate adjective ajeikh/ß ("unseemly, shameful") as Achilles thinks of "shameful deeds" (ajeike/a e¶rga) for Hector (22.395 and 23.24). 64 ". . . Homer means by 'unseemly' and 'evil' in this connection, 'that which dishonors or harms the object of the action,' without any reference to the moral quality of the acts itself, although this may be at times clearly 'immoral'" (Bassett, "Hector's Body," 44). 65 Bassett, "Hector's Body," 44-46. 66 Sarpedon’s divine lineage likely has a role here as well. 43 Most readers of the Iliad, however, do not see this as a divine condemnation of the act of killing in war, but rather the natural outworking of divine favouritism. On the other hand, in Il. 24.25-27 we are told that rescuing Hector's body was pleasing to all of the gods with the exception of the three who had the greatest grudge against the Trojans: Hera, Poseidon, and Athena. This may tell us that even those gods who were more neutral took pity on Hector, perhaps indicating the outrageousness of Achilles' actions, something that Hera, Poseidon, and Athena may have recognized if they were not so consumed with anger. It is probably still inappropriate to use the language of morality, but Homer might be suggesting that the appropriate divine and human response here is that of pity towards Hector, a feeling that he might expect his readers to share. This response of pity may not reflect a universal condemnation of corpse mutilation, but could be understood as a reaction to the excessiveness of Achilles' actions. Homer may be attempting to portray Achilles' actions towards Hector as an extreme or excessive example of typical and normally acceptable acts of war. Achilles does not just kill, loot, and expose Hector. He twice refuses Hector's request and the possibility of receiving a ransom. He expresses a desire to cannibalize Hector himself. He drags Hector's body for days. There is a special kind of fury and intensity in Achilles' treatment of his foe, and it is possible that we are meant to interpret this as Achilles going too far. Achilles can be understood in some ways as a pendulum character. His initial withdrawal from combat is justified, but he arguably takes it too far, swinging out past the bounds of acceptable heroic behaviour. Similarly, avenging Patroclus' death by defeating and abusing Hector is justified, but again he may swing out past the bounds of acceptable behaviour by excessively mistreating the corpse. 44 The idea that Achilles has gone too far might also be supported by the fact that his behaviour towards Hector is quite different from some of his earlier actions in combat. In Andromache's conversation with Hector she tells how her father Eetion died at the hands of Achilles: [Achilles] killed Eetion but did not strip his armor, for his heart respected the dead man, but burned the body in all its elaborate war-gear and piled a grave mound over it, and the nymphs of the mountains, daughters of Zeus of the aegis, planted elm trees about it (Il. 6.416-420). Achilles' action towards Eetion is far more benevolent than what Hector will request of him, as Hector merely wants Achilles to allow his parents to ransom his naked body so they can give him a proper burial. Though he rejects Hector's modest request, Achilles actually abstains from taking Eetion's armor, does not take a ransom, and gives the man a proper burial himself.67 We see a similar change in Achilles' behavior with respect to supplicants. Not only does he reject Hector's final supplication, but during his aristeia he also rejects two other battlefield supplicants: Tros, son of Alastor (20.464-475), and Lycaon, son of Priam (21.64-127). Lycaon's case is particularly interesting, because Achilles had ransomed rather than killed him in the past. Indeed, Achilles' rejection of supplicants in his aristeia differs from his earlier pattern of behavior, in which he was more willing to grant their requests.68 Achilles' acts of mercy actually "provide the only instances mentioned in the Iliad of prisoners being taken or released for 67 "It is noteworthy that the only individual in the Iliad who buries a dead enemy is the one who is accused of the most unchivalrous treatment of the body of an opponent" (Bassett, "Hector's Body," 47). 68 Il. 6.414-428; 11.104-106, 111-112. 45 ransom."69 Achilles' treatment of Tros, Lycaon, and Hector show us that something has clearly changed for the character. This transformation could be interpreted negatively, particularly since Achilles' actions now reflect the brutality of Agamemnon, arguably one of the most unpopular characters in the Iliad.70 In our discussion of Achilles' characterization in the Iliad we have tried to offer a voice of caution to the modern readers who might quickly rush towards negative conclusions about Achilles, instinctively classifying his behavior as immoral, subhuman, or uncivilized. At the same time, we have recognized that there is evidence within the Iliad for such interpretations of this provocative character. While we might hesitate to use terms like moral or immoral, there is a sense in which Achilles descends into the uncivilized. He is the best of the Achaians, and in the final demonstration of his wrath-driven superiority he ultimately exceeds and surpasses the bounds of heroic humanity, revealing in the process the uncivilized nature of warfare by pushing things towards their shocking extremes. Reception History To this point we have focused on understanding Achilles within the horizons of the Iliad itself. Just as interesting, and for our purposes just as important, is the reception history of Achilles' encounter with Hector. How was Achilles assessed and appropriated in the ancient world? This is a complicated question to answer. The ambiguities in Achilles' character within 69 King, Achilles, 13. Agamemnon kills the battlefield supplicants Adrestos (6.37-65) and Peisandros (11.130-148). He also rejects the supplication of Chryses in Book I, which ultimately led to his conflict with Achilles. 70 46 the Iliad alone would give rise to multiple interpretations among the ancients, just as they engender controversy amongst classics scholars today. Additionally, ancient readers and writers had access to traditions and texts about Achilles apart from Homer's epics, such as the lost Epic Cycle, which add to the complexity of his reception history. One of the most helpful treatments of this history is Katherine Callen King's Achilles: Paradigms of the War Hero from Homer to the Middle Ages.71 In her work she explores the diverse understandings and appropriations of Achilles in the ancient world and shows us that the ambiguities in Achilles' characterization gave rise to both positive and negative interpretations, a point which will be important for us in our comparison with Jubilees. Our goal here is not to offer an exhaustive treatment of this reception history, but merely to explore evidence for how some of the elements in Achilles' encounter with Hector would have been understood by later readers. Particularly interesting here is Achilles' abuse of Hector's corpse, the issue which stands at the heart of his verbal exchange with the doomed hero. This abuse was well known in the ancient world. As MacDonald notes: "every educated Greek knew how Hector died; it and Achilles' desecration of Hector's corpse were popular themes for artists, especially vase painters and sarcophagus sculptors."72 The evidence we will consider here is of two types: (1) general discussions of the treatment of the dead, and (2) more specific references and allusions to Achilles' treatment of Hector. 71 Cf. Pantelis Michelakis, Achilles in Greek Tragedy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002). 72 Dennis R. MacDonald, The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000), 145. See some of this visual evidence in Anneliese Kossatz-Deissmann, "Achilleus," in LIMC, nos. 558-632. 47 Figure 1. Hector's corpse. Malibu 95.AA.80. Athens, 180-220 C .E. Digital image courtesy of the Getty's Open Content Program. For the first category we find some useful materials among the Greek dramas, such as Sophocles' Antigone, which deals with a conflict over the treatment of Polynices' body. Polynices led an attack against his home city of Thebes, ultimately dying in combat against his brother. Creon, who became ruler of Thebes in the wake of the battle, ordered the exposure of Polynices' body and proclaimed the death penalty for anyone who would violate this order. Polynices' sister and the namesake of the play, Antigone, brazenly violated the order by caring for her brother's body. The conflict between Antigone, who defends her actions, and Creon, who orders her death, occupies the rest of the play. Sophocles certainly allows both sides to be heard, but ultimately Antigone's actions are vindicated and Creon is condemned (998-1095). It could be argued that Sophocles and those who 48 sympathized with his play would have condemned Achilles' treatment of Hector. Proper burial of the dead seems to be a divine law that human beings transgress at their own peril. Though there are certainly resources for a critique of Achilles here, the situations in Antigone and in the Iliad are not identical. In Antigone we are dealing with the treatment of a family member's body, albeit one who died as an enemy combatant. Antigone is motivated largely out of a sense of familial duty, making us wonder if the issue here is really the treatment of the dead in general, including one's enemies, or the treatment of family members. A clearer case for the propriety of allowing the battle-dead a proper burial, even if they are one's enemies, is found in Euripides' Suppliants. Like Sophocles' Antigone, Suppliants takes place in the aftermath of the famous battle at Thebes. The Argives, who aided Polynices in besieging his home city of Thebes, have been denied the opportunity to reclaim and bury the bodies of their dead. Under Creon's edict, the corpses remain exposed. The mothers of these fallen soldiers and Adrastus, king of Argos, go to Athens to beg Theseus and the Athenians to redeem the bodies. Theseus initially refuses the request, but eventually capitulates, using force of arms to reclaim the fallen Argives after a diplomatic solution fails. What is particularly fascinating about this instance of corpse recovery is that it is a third party who intervenes. The Athenians were not part of the initial battle with Thebes, and from a Homeric perspective probably would not have any obligation to fight for dead men who were not their countrymen or their allies in combat. Indeed, some of Theseus' initial resistance seems to be due to the fact that the Argives were foreigners (292-293). What emerges in the play is a different justification for struggling for the battle dead, one that is not based primarily on kinship obligation but on the importance of 49 upholding international law and defending the oppressed (377-380).73 Allowing one's foes to bury their dead is presented as a pan-Hellenic law that must be upheld (526), and this law is ultimately rooted in divine will (19; 563). The message Theseus sends to Creon is worth quoting: Now let the dead be buried in the earth, and let each element return to the place from whence it came into the light of day, the spirit to the upper air, the body to the earth. We do not possess our bodies as our own: we live our lives in them, and thereafter the earth, our nourisher, must take them back. Do you think it is Argos you harm by not burying the dead? You are wrong: all Hellas is concerned if the dead are deprived of their due and kept unburied. If your action becomes customary, it will turn brave men into cowards. To me you have come uttering dreadful threats: are you nevertheless afraid of the dead if they are hidden in the earth? What are you afraid may happen? That they will overthrow your land from the grave? Or that in the depths of the earth they will beget children who will avenge them? . . . Well, what will it be? We want to act piously: grant us permission to bury the dead. Otherwise, what comes next is plain: I will come and bury them by force. The news shall never be brought to the Greeks that the ancient law of the gods, coming before me and the city of Pandion, was there annulled (530-545; 559563; Kovacs, LCL). Like Sophocles in Antigone, Euripides does not directly address Achilles' treatment of Hector. However, the idea of an obligation regarding the treatment of enemy corpses that is rooted in both divine and human law could provide the basis for criticism of Achilles. Such a critique might not be surprising from Euripides, whom King identifies as one of the more antagonistic voices in the tradition: "Euripides evokes negative aspects of Homer's epic that Sophocles ignores . . . Instead of appropriating the Iliad as an authority to validate the ideas in his own text, he seems intent on destroying the authority it and its hero Achilles enjoyed in Athens."74 73 Note, however, that a shared ancestry is invoked by the Chorus in their supplication (263264). There may also be a sense in Suppliants of a pan-Hellenic identity. Perhaps barbarian peoples would not be given the same consideration that Theseus ultimately gives to the Argives. 74 King, Achilles, 78. See her full discussion of Euripides’ largely critical appropriation of Achilles in 77-104. 50 We see a concern for the burial of one's enemies in another drama, Sophocles' Ajax. Since it is set in the time of the Trojan war it may have particular relevance. Near the end of the play, after Ajax has killed himself, there is a dispute about what will happen to his body. Menelaus instructs Ajax's brother Teucer to leave the body unburied (1047), intending for it to "be cast forth somewhere on the yellow sand to become forage for the birds of the seashore" (1064-65). His reasoning is similar to that of Creon in Antigone: Ajax was a traitor to the Achaians (105260). The situation in general is quite similar to Antigone, as obedience to a ruler and his pronouncements (Menelaus) is pitted against devotion to one's family and the obligation to give a proper burial. Just as Creon's position is ultimately critiqued, so is Menelaus'. The chorus asks him not to "violate the dead" (1091). Teucer claims that Menelaus is dishonoring the gods in this exchange: Teucer: Then do not refuse honour to the gods, seeing that the gods preserved you. Menelaus: Why, would I find fault with the laws of the gods? Teucer: Yes, if you stand there and forbid burial of the dead. Menelaus: Yes, that of my own enemies; is it not honorable? (1129-32; Lloyd-Jones, LCL). Menelaus' response reflects the point we have raised already: the obligation to bury a corpse is primarily an obligation for one's friends, family, and compatriots. It may not be expected that one bury the corpse of their unrelated enemy. It is noteworthy that Teucer does not immediately challenge Menelaus' principle, but rather the facts: was Ajax really an enemy? It will be the voice of Odysseus that ultimately challenges the underlying principle in his speech to Agamemnon: Listen, then! I beg you not to venture to cast this man out ruthlessly, unburied. Violence must not so prevail on you that you trample justice under foot! For me too he was once my chief enemy in the army, ever since I became the owner of the arms of Achilles; but 51 though he was such in regard to me, I would not so far fail to do him honour as to deny that he was the most valiant among the Argives, of all that came to Troy, except Achilles. And so you cannot dishonour him without injustice; for you would be destroying not him, but the laws of the gods. It is unjust to injure a noble man, if he is dead, even if it happens that you hate him. (1333-45; Lloyd-Jones, LCL). Agamemnon has difficulty understanding why Odysseus would support the burial of someone who was a hated enemy. Odysseus' response in the passage above and the ensuing conversation reveal three ideas: (1) violating the corpse would be an offense to the gods; (2) postmortem abuse does not bring honor to the hero; and (3) even though Ajax was an enemy he was still a noble and excellent enemy. Odysseus prevails. While Ajax does not explicitly address the issue of Hector's burial (though it does invite a tragic comparison between the two in 1024-35), it is difficult to imagine that Sophocles would have found Achilles' action defensible. Though there is a difference between Ajax and Hector, in that Hector was a Trojan and Ajax an Achaian, Ajax has become to Menelaus, Agamemnon, and Odysseus an enemy like the Trojans. Yet Odysseus argues, rightfully in the eyes of the play, that even his hated enemy Ajax deserves a proper burial. We must wonder if the play offers a veiled critique of Achilles by placing Achilles' own desire to abuse Hector's body on the lips of two of the lesser-loved characters of the Iliad, Agamemnon and Menelaus. This would be quite interesting considering the fact that Sophocles offers a generally positive portrayal of Achilles75. Perhaps the popularity of Achilles led Sophocles to present critiques of him only in veiled form. Greek drama is not the only place we encounter a sense of obligation to bury the dead, 75 King, Achilles, 77. 52 even if they are an enemy. For instance, Herodotus tells us about a man named Lampon who approached Pausanias and urged him to mutilate an enemy: "When Leonidas was killed at Thermopylae, Mardonius and Xerxes cut off his head and set it on a pole; make them a like return, and you will win praise from all Spartans and the rest of Hellas besides. For if you impale Mardonius, you will be avenged for your father's brother Leonidas." This is what Lampon, thinking to please, said. Pausanias, however, answered him as follows: "Aeginetan, I thank you for your goodwill and forethought, but you have missed the mark of right judgment. First you exalt me and my fatherland and my deeds, yet next you cast me down to mere nothingness when you advise me to insult the dead (nekrwø! lumai/nesqai), and say that I shall win more praise if I do so. That would be an act more proper for barbarians than for Greeks and one that we consider worthy of censure even in barbarians" (9.78.3-9.79.1; Godley, LCL). For Pausanius, abusing corpses is something that barbarians do — not Greeks. Based on his response, it seems quite possible that Pausanius would have condemned Achilles’ treatment of Hector as behaviour unfitting for a Greek hero. In each of the aforementioned works we see some sense of obligation to ensure or at least allow the burial of an enemy corpse. While Achilles' treatment of Hector is not directly addressed, there is arguably a latent critique of the hero within these texts. This latent criticism is made explicit in other sources. One notable example is Plato, who mentions Achilles' treatment of Hector in his Republic. Plato's reception of the Iliad's Achilles and Homer in general are quite interesting, as he challenges and censors the best of the Achaians and the bard who told his story. For Plato, Homer's Achilles is an unacceptable role model for the education of youth for several reasons. These include his acceptance of gifts from Agamemnon in Book XIX and his acceptance of a ransom for Hector's body, as these actions indicate greediness. His insolence towards the 53 god Apollo and the Scamander are also critiqued. Most significantly for our purposes is the incredulity over these events in the life of Achilles: . . . and again [Achilles] said of the locks of his hair, consecrated to the other river Spercheius: 'This let me give to take with him my hair to the hero, Patroclus,' who was a dead body, and that he did so we must not believe. And again the trailings of Hector's body round the grave of Patroclus and the slaughter of the living captives upon his pyre, all these we will affirm to be lies nor will we suffer our youth to believe that Achilles, the son of a goddess and of Peleus the most chaste of men, grandson of Zeus, and himself bred under the care of the most sage Cheiron, was of so perturbed a spirit as to be affected with two contradictory maladies, the greed that becomes no free man and at the same time overweening arrogance towards god and men (Republic, 391b-c; Shorey, LCL). We see that Plato identifies Achilles' treatment of Hector's body as one of the deeds that must be rejected, and pairs it with his brutal slaughter of the twelve Trojans as part of Patroclus' funeral. Not only should Achilles not have mistreated Hector's body, Plato's criticism of Achilles' eventual acceptance of ransom from Priam for the return of the corpse indicates that he should not have accepted Hector's original request (return the body of the fallen in exchange for ransom) but rather gone above and beyond this by returning the body free of charge. Plato lumps all of these actions of Achilles into the category of "overweening arrogance (uJperhfani÷a; we might also translate this as "contempt"; LSJ, 1864) towards god and men." Hobbs notes that Plato likely intends these actions to be read as examples of the "terrible and impious deeds" mentioned in 391d.76 MacDonald points us towards another negative interpretation of Achilles' treatment of Hector in Pseudo-Justin Martyr's Cohortatio ad gentiles 30 (first half of the fourth century C.E.). 54 The lateness of the text should make us cautious about using it to understand the interpretation of Achilles in the Hellenistic era, but it is still worth noting: ¢Oti de\ ejk ghvß a‡nqrwpoß pe/plastai, kai\ ¢Omhroß ajpo\ thvß palaiavß kai\ qei/aß i˚stori/aß maqw/n, thvß legou/shß Ghv ei• kai\ eijß ghvn ajpeleu/shØ, to\ a‡yucon tou! §Ektoroß sw!ma kwfh\n ojnoma/zei gh!n. ¶Efh ga/r pou kata\ touv jAcille/wß meta\ qa/naton to\ touv ºEktoroß su/rontoß swvma: Kwfh\n ga\r dh\ gaivan ajeiki/zeiß meneai/nwn. And that man was formed of earth, Homer, too, having discovered from the ancient and divine history which says, "Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return," calls the lifeless body of Hector dumb clay. For in condemnation of Achilles dragging the corpse of Hector after death, he says somewhere:— "On the dumb clay he cast indignity, Blinded with rage".77 Pseudo-Justin is trying to argue that Homer was aware of the biblical teaching that human beings had been formed from the earth, and he cites Il. 24.54 (kwfh\n ga\r dh\ gaivan ajeiki/zei meneai/nwn) as evidence. This is the closing line of Apollo's rebuff against Hera, Poseidon, and Athena, whose lingering hatred for Troy leads them to oppose divine intervention to rescue the body of Hector from Achilles. What is important for our purposes is Pseudo-Justin's criticism of Achilles' treatment of Hector through the use of an oppositional kata/.78 Beyond commentary on the Iliad passages themselves, there are also examples of Achilles' interaction with Hector being mimicked by others in history and literature. There is a tradition, for instance, that Alexander the Great similarly dragged his enemies. This tradition is preserved by Dionysius Halicarnassus, who quotes and comments upon Hegesias of Magnesia's version of the story, as well as by Quintus Curtius Rufus. The account from Hegesias reads: 76 Angela Hobbs, Plato and the Hero: Courage, Manliness, and the Impersonal Good (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 203-204. 77 ANF 1:286. 78 LSJ, 883. See Matt 5:11, 23; 10:35; 12:14, 25. 55 The king advanced, leading his division. Some plan had been formed by the enemy commanders to meet him as he approached; for they had come to the conclusion that, if they overcame this one man, they would rout his host at the same time. This hope led them on to daring, so that never before had Alexander been in danger to such a degree. One of the enemy fell on his knees, and Alexander thought he had done so in order to ask for mercy. Having allowed him to approach, he narrowly avoided the thrust of a sword which the man carried under the flaps of his corslet, so that the blow was not mortal. Alexander himself despatched the man with a blow on the head with his sabre, but the king's followers were inflamed with spontaneous anger. In fact, so completely did the man's insane daring banish pity from the minds of everyone who saw or heard of it, that six thousand barbarians were cut down at the trumpet signal which followed. Baetis himself, however, was brought before the king alive by Leonatus and Philotas. And Alexander, seeing that he was corpulent and tall and savage-looking (for he was black in colour too), was seized with loathing for his appearance as well as for his designs against his life, and ordered that a bronze ring be drawn through his feet and that he should be dragged round, naked. Pounded with the pain of passing over many rough pieces of ground, he set up a scream. And it was just this detail which I mention that brought people together. The pain racked him, and he kept on yelling like a barbarian, begging Alexander for mercy and addressing him as 'lord'; and his peculiar language made them laugh. His fat and swelling flesh suggested another creature, a Babylonian beast of ample proportions. So the troops made sport of him, mocking with the coarse mockery of the camp an enemy who was hateful in appearance and clumsy in his manner (Dionysius Halicarnasssus, de Compositione Verborum 18; Usher, LCL). Dionysisus of Halicarnassus quotes this in his critique of Hegesias' poetic style, and contrasts it unfavorably with Homer's account of Achilles dragging Hector in the Iliad. While there are differences between the two accounts (Alexander's victim is alive, for instance), the similarities with Achilles are undeniable and were strong enough to invite the comparison with the Iliad. How should we appraise Hegesias' portrayal of Alexander? On the one hand, the treatment of Baetis seems quite cruel, which might lead us to understand Alexander's actions negatively. On the other hand, Hegesias' grotesque portrayal of the victim is arguably an attempt to prevent the reader from pitying him. What can we learn from Dionysius' comments on this fragment? He prefaces it with this summary: 56 The subject which the sophist is treating is as follows: Alexander, when besieging Gaza, a strongly fortified position in Syria, is wounded during the assault and captures the place after some time. Carried away by anger, he massacres all the surviving inhabitants, allowing his Macedonians to kill anyone they should meet, and having captured their commander, a man who was highly honoured for his position and his appearance, he gives orders that he should be bound alive to a war chariot and that the horses should be driven at full speed before the eyes of all, and he kills him in this way. No one could have a story of more terrible suffering to tell, or one containing more visual horror (18; Usher, LCL). Following the fragment Dionysius goes on to say: "I ask you, does this description resemble those lines of Homer, in which Achilles is made to outrage Hector after his death? And yet the suffering in this case is less, for the outrage is being wrought upon a corpse that has no feeling." Dionysius then quotes Homer's version of Achilles dragging Hector's body, and concludes: "This is the way in which a noble body and terrible sufferings should be described by men of sensibility and intelligence." Dionysius' focus here is stylistic: Homer is superior to Hegesias because of Homer's use of rhythm. We should note, however, that Dionysius' characterization of Baetis seems to be more positive than Hegesias'. Part of Hegesias' failure may also have been in his portrayal of Baetis in such a way that it does not fully evoke the pity of the reader. For Dionysius, the proper response that a story about this kind of suffering should evoke in the reader is one of horror and pity. Does this constitute a criticism of Achilles and Alexander? Perhaps, but not necessarily. Dionysius is focused on the victim's suffering, not the perpetrator's culpability. Evoking pity for the suffering of a victim does not necessarily mean the aggressor is being condemned. For example, one of the functions of Homer's necrologies is to humanize and nobilize vanquished characters in order to increase the reader's pity towards the battle dead. While it is possible to 57 use Homer's necrologies, which often focus on the domestic impact and suffering of war, to construct a critique of warfare and violence, this was probably not Homer's intention. Our conclusion must be that Hegesias and Dionysius are ambiguous regarding value judgments against Achilles and Alexander, although the horror of Alexander's actions would ultimately lead some readers, like Quintus Curtius Rufus, to condemn the conqueror. A second version of this story is found in the first-century C. E. Roman author Quintus Curtius Rufus' history of Alexander the Great: Betis, after fighting a gallant battle and being exhausted by many wounds, was deserted by his men, but nevertheless fought on with equal vigour, although his armour was slippery alike with his own blood and that of the enemy. But since he was the target of weapons from all sides, his strength at last gave out and he came alive into the power of the foe. When he was brought before the king, Alexander, usually an admirer of valour even in an enemy, exulting, young as he was, with insolent joy, said: 'You shall not die as you have wished, but be sure that you shall suffer whatever can be devised against a capitve.' Betis, gazing at the king with an expression not only undaunted but haughty, answered not a word to his threats. Then Alexander cried: 'Do you not see how determined he is to keep silence? He has not bent his knee, has he? Has he uttered a word of entreaty? Yet I will overcome his silence, and, if in no other way, I will put an end to it by groans.' Then his wrath changed to frenzy, for even then his new fortune suggested foreign customs. For while Betis still breathed, thongs were passed round his ankles, he was bound to the king's chariot, and the horses dragged him around the city, while the king boasted that in taking vengeance on an enemy he had imitated Achilles, from whom he derived his race (4.6.25-29; Rolfe, LCL). This author makes explicit the connection between Achilles’ and Alexander's actions, and actually presents Alexander as intending to emulate Achilles.79 Curtius also clearly criticizes Alexander for his actions. Is this an implicit condemnation of Achilles' actions as well? 79 Alexander's self-identification with Achilles is a recurrent theme in his biographies, a point we will return to in chapter four. 58 Another interesting potential appropriation of Achilles' treatment of Hector and a continuation of the Alexander tradition is found in Rabbinic literature in a tale that discusses Jews and Samaritans meeting with the conqueror. Goldstein's translation based on his edited Hebrew version of Megillat Taanit 21 Kislev and b.Yoma 69a reads as follows: On the twenty-first day thereof [of Kislev] is the Day of Mount Gerizim, on which no mourning is allowed. It is the day on which the Cuthaeans asked of Alexander the Macedonian to turn over to them the house of our God to be destroyed, saying to him, 'Sell us five kors on Mount Moriah.' He granted it to them. When they came, the inhabitants of Jerusalem went out with cudgels and beat them off. They [the Jerusalemites] told [the high priest,] Simeon the Just. He put on priestly undervestments and put on priestly outer vestments and took with him the nobles of Jerusalem. All night the ones [the Jews] marched on one side and the others [the Cuthaeans] marched on the other, until dawn. As soon as they reached Antipatris, the sun rose and they [the two columns] met each other. The king asked, 'What is this?' They [the Cuthaeans] told him, 'These are the very Jews who have rebelled against you.' As soon as Alexander the Macedonian saw Simeon the Just, he dismounted from his chariot and bowed down to him. They [the Cuthaeans and perhaps other onlookers] said to him, 'Will a great king, such as you, bow down to this Jew?' He replied, 'I see his image when I go into battle, and I win.' He [Alexander] said to him [Simeon], 'What do you request?' He replied, 'Gentiles have misled you into turning over to them the house in which we pray for your kingdom.' He [Alexander] said to him, 'Who have misled me?' He [Simeon] replied, 'They are the Cuthaeans who are standing before you.' He [Alexander] said to him, 'I deliver them into your hand.' They bored80 through their [the Cuthaeans'] heels, tied them to the tails of their horses, and dragged them over the thorns and thistles until they came to Mount Gerizim. When they came to Mount Gerizim, they plowed it and planted it with vetch in the same manner as they [the Cuthaeans] had plotted to treat the house of our God, and that day they [the Jews] made a festive day. 81 Goldstein rightly notes that "the Jews inflict upon the Samaritans not only the desecration of their holy site, but also gruesome death by torture, combining Israelite Gideon's treatment of the 80 bqn. This verb is sometimes translated by tetrai/nw in the LXX (2 Kgs 12:10, 18:21; Job 40:24). tetrai/nw is the verb used when Achilles pierces Hector’s feet in Il. 22.396. 81 Jonathan A. Goldstein, "Alexander and the Jews," Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research 59 (1993): 66. 59 men of Sukkoth with Greek Achilles' treatment of Hector."82 He goes on to say: "Alexander was said to have copied Achilles' treatment of Hector and to have inflicted it on the defeated enemy commander upon the fall of Gaza! One might be surprised to find that gentile writers regard such treatment of a defeated enemy as an atrocity, whereas the rabbinic legend includes it as part of the reason for celebrating a festive day!"83 This is interesting: we seem to have a Jewish tradition arguably based on both the Iliad and the story of Alexander dragging his own enemies which portrays the dragging of one's enemies positively. The appearance of a Jewish text in this tradition raises a question that is important for our particular study: how might Jewish readers have thought about the dragging of Hector by Achilles? This rabbinic text might indicate that some would not take issue with it. There are also texts from the Hebrew Bible that seem to have no problem with the threatened or actual molestation of an enemy corpse.84 On the other hand, a passage like Amos 2:1 might condemn the mistreatment of an enemy's corpse, and the burial of Saul and his sons in 2 Sam 21 may also speak to the importance of giving proper burial even to someone who was an enemy. 85 The Book of Tobit may be particularly relevant for this discussion, as it portrays a pious Israelite 82 Goldstein, "Alexander and the Jews," 97. Ibid. 84 1 Sam 17:51, 54. Cf. T. Jud. 3:4-5: "And fighting Achor for two hours I [Judah] killed him, and after having cleft his shield in two I chopped off his feet, And as I was stripping off his breastplate, behold, eight men, companions of his, began to fight with me" (Hollander and de Jonge). 85 Bolyki points to Deut 21:22-23 as evidence that even the executed deserved burial. Ja/nos Bolyki, "Burial as an Ethical Task in the Book of Tobit, in the Bible and in the Greek Tragedies," in The Book of Tobit: Text, Tradition, Theology: Papers of the First International Conference on the Deuteronomical Books, Pa/pa, Hungary, 20-21 May, 2004 (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 90. See the full discussion of burial in the Hebrew Bible on 89-91. 83 60 man who, like Antigone, risks his life to bury his fellow Israelites.86 However, while Tobit emphasizes the importance of proper burial, it does not speak specifically to the treatment of an enemy corpse. Thus it seems that a Jewish reader, like ancient Greek readers, could have appraised Achilles' actions either positively or negatively. Our exploration of the characterization of Achilles in the Iliad passage and surrounding context and in the ancient reception history of the figure has revealed a level of ambiguity. On the one hand, Achilles' speech and subsequent treatment of Hector could be read as par for the heroic course, and could even be something that later literature might positively emulate (Bassett; b. Yoma). On the other hand, the Iliad itself and subsequent tradition can suggest that Achilles' words and actions were aberrant, a crossing of the boundaries of heroic and human civility (Segal; Plato; Pseudo-Justin). The reception of this particular incident from Achilles’ life reflects a broader ambiguity in Achilles' reception history, with the dominant tradition positively evaluating the figure (Pindar, Sophocles) while a vocal minority criticizes him (Euripides, Plato).87 Achilles is thus a liminal figure who is interpreted in diverse and even contradictory ways in later tradition. As we will discuss below, this ambiguity may have made Achilles the perfect figure for Jubilees to appropriate. 86 87 Cf. Sir 38:16. See King, Achilles 61 CHAPTER THREE ESAU In the previous chapter we offered a detailed analysis of Achilles' speech to Hector in Il. 22.260-272, giving attention to the speech itself, its literary context, and the speech's implication for Achilles' characterization both within the Iliad itself and in the epic's ancient reception history. We now turn to a similar analysis of Esau's speech in Jubilees 37:18-23. Our goal is to explore and appreciate Esau's speech in its own right while also structuring our analysis in such a way that it lays a foundation for a comparison of our two speeches in the following chapter. As with our discussion of Achilles' speech we begin by looking at the literary context. Literary Context The Book of Jubilees The Book of Jubilees is one of our most important examples of so-called "rewritten scripture."1 Purporting to be revelation given to Moses on Mt. Sinai, Jubilees narrates the history of Israel from the beginning of creation up until the exodus from the first person perspective of an angel of the presence. The book is primarily modeled on Genesis and Exodus, but freely reworks these books in many places and incorporates other sources and traditions as well. Originally a Palestinian Hebrew composition, the work has survived in its entirety only in the Ethiopic tradition, although fragments are extant in Hebrew, Greek, Syriac, and Latin. Historically there has been wide disagreement about the dating of the book, but based on the finding and paleographic dating of fragments from Qumran as well as internal arguments a 1 Sidnie White Crawford, Rewriting Scripture in Second Temple Times (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008). 62 general consensus has been reached that the book was written in the second century B.C.E.2 VanderKam, whose arguments have been very influential in late twentieth-century and early twenty-first-century Jubilees scholarship, believes the book reflects knowledge of the Maccabean revolt and that its reception by the Qumran community indicates it was composed before the forebears of this community became disillusioned with the high priesthood in the midsecond century B.C.E. Thus VanderKam dates the composition of the book to approximately 160-150 B.C.E.3 Some opt for an earlier date, arguing that Jubilees demonstrates awareness of the Hellenistic reforms in the mid-170s but does not reference the oppression under Antiochus Epiphanes.4 Others argue for a later second-century date, such as Doron Mendels who places the composition of Jubilees in 125 B.C.E.5 Our argument fits comfortably within any of these dating schemes. Source-Critical Context Before proceding with a closer analysis of our passage some brief attention should be given to basic source-critical issues. As we will see below, Esau's speech in Jub. 37:18-23 is set within an account of a battle between the first-generation Israelites and Edomites that ultimately results in Esau's death. This is not the only extant account of such a battle, as we encounter examples of this tradition in both Testament of Judah 9:1-8 and in Midrash Wayissa'u (M.W.) 37.1-14.6 In 2 See the discussion in James C. VanderKam, Textual and Historical Studies in the Book of Jubilees (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1977), 207-285. 3 James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001), 20-21. 4 VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, 21. 5 Doron Mendels, The Land of Israel as a Political Concept in Hasmonean Literature (Tübingen: Mohr, 1987), 57. 6 Midrash Wayissa'u is preserved in various forms in a variety of medieval Jewish manuscripts, including the collections Yalqut Shimeoni (13th century C. E.) and the Chronicles of Jerahmeel 63 both of these texts we see the battle with Edom paired with a battle against the Amorites.7 The exact nature of the relationship between all of these texts remains open for debate, and no consensus has been reached.8 That said, de Jonge makes a good case that the three texts are ultimately dependent on a common source. He observes that elements in the shorter account of the Amorite war in Testament of Judah "are unintelligible without the information supplied by Midrash Wayissau'u."9 This indicates that the Testament is an abbreviation of a longer source/tradition to which M.W. had access. Both of these texts also include shared material about the battles with the Amorites and Edomites that are lacking in Jubilees, indicating that Jubilees is not the source — or at least not the sole source — for their accounts. De Jonge's summary statement on the relationship between these texts is worth quoting: As to the stories of the Amorite and Edomite wars, it is clear that Jubilees and the Testaments go back to a common source . A direct dependence of the Testaments on Jubilees is impossible, because Jubilees gives an abbreviated account of the war with the Amorites, whilst T.Jud. offers many more details. On the other hand it is impossible that Jubilees should be dependent on the Testaments, for its story of the Edomite War cannot possibly have been derived from T. Jud. IX. We must therefore assume a common source, very probably written in Hebrew, which may have been an early redaction of the (14th century C.E.). For a discussion of the manuscript evidence and editions see Martha Himmelfarb, "Midrash Vayissa'u: A New Translation and Introduction," in Old Testament Pseudepigrapha: More Noncanonical Scriptures (ed. Richard Bauckham, James R. Davila, and Alexander Panayotov; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 1:144. Versification and translation in our discussions are taken from Harm W. Hollander and Marinus de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Commentary (Leiden: Brill, 1985), 451-456. Kugel points us to J.B. Lauterbach's privately published edition of the Hebrew text available for download at www.hebrewbooks.org. James L. Kugel, A Walk through Jubilees: Studies in the Book of Jubilees and the World of its Creation (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 165 n.296. 7 Cf. Gen 48:22. Jubilees also has a version of this story in 34:1-9. 8 "The number of opinions on the topic nearly matches the number of commentators who have taken it up." Robert A. Kugler, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001), 58. 9 Marinus de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Study of Their Text, Composition and Origin (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1975), 61. 64 Midrash Wayissa'u tradition, or even a fuller account of which Midrash Wayissa'u is an independent partial redaction.10 This does not mean that these texts are completely independent of each other. Indeed, given the lateness of M.W. it is possible that it has been influenced in some manner by the earlier texts either in direct or indirect form. However, even if there has been some influence among these texts, they are still dependent on a shared oral or written tradition that is no longer extant. Even though the story of Jacob's final encounter with Esau in Jubilees is drawing upon earlier traditions, the author still seems to have incorporated his own elements. Most notably, Esau's speech is completely absent from the parallel accounts. The brevity of the Testament of Judah account does mean it is possible that the speech was part of the work's source(s) but that it has been omitted in an effort to condense the story. However, we cannot argue from silence. M.W. does mention a verbal exchange between Jacob and Esau, but it is only Jacob who speaks: When Jacob saw that Esau dared to war with him, and that he had come to kill them in the fortress, and that he shot arrows against them, Jacob stood upon the wall of the fortress and spoke to Esau his brother words of peace, friendship and brotherhood (hwjaw twoyr MwlC yrbd). But Esau did not heed them (37.3).11 Again, it is possible that there was a speech from Esau in M.W.'s source, but we have no evidence for this. The fact that M.W. provides us with a lengthy account of the wars and does not seem to have much concern for literary economy makes it less likely the speech would have 10 Ibid., 70-71. Cf. John C. Endres, Biblical Interpretation in the Book of Jubilees (Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1987), 180. 11 Hollander and de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Commentary, 454. Note the expansion in the Syriac version of Jub. 37:19: "Jacob said 'Do not do (this), my brother. As for me, there is no evil in my mind against you; do not plan evil against me. Be aware that there is a God, and he sees secrets and repays each one in accord with what he does. Calm your great anger and do nothing hastily. Then evil would come upon you.'" See Appendix I for further discussion. 65 been omitted if known.12 As far as we can tell from the extant literary evidence, Esau's speech is unique to Jubilees. Beyond the absence of the speech in the parallel accounts, we can also consider the fact that Esau's speech and some of the surrounding context contain elements that are similar to other texts in Jubilees. Most notable here is the emphasis on oaths. We will discuss this further below, but the portrayal of Esau as an oath-breaker in his speech and surrounding context reflects a broader theme in Jubilees, and has many similarities to extra-biblical stories in chapters 8-10. This increases the likelihood that Esau's speech and other seemingly unique elements in its version of the battle are original to the book, or at the very least based on a different stream of tradition than the common source underlying Testament of Judah and M.W. Even though Jubilees has unique elements, it is still drawing on an existing tale about a battle with the Edomites. What might the ultimate inspiration of such a tale have been? VanderKam has argued that both the conflicts with the Amorites and the Edomites are ultimately stylized accounts of Judas Maccabeus' conflicts. 13 The parallels between details in the battle with Edom and narratives of Judas' conflicts with surrounding nations are certainly suggestive.14 While elements of the story may have been based on these events, it is likely that the idea of a conflict These could certainly constitute words of "peace, friendship, and brotherhood." It is possible that this Syriac expansion and M.W. are connected in some indirect way. 12 Note, however, de Jonge's aforementioned suggestion that M.W. could be a partial redaction of a fuller account. The absence of Esau's speech from M.W. might also weigh against the possibility, raised above, that M.W. may be drawing upon Jubilees and/or Testament of Judah in addition to its other source(s). However, it is still quite possible that Jubilees has influenced this later account in an indirect way, a suggestion that we will note again in the following chapter. 13 VanderKam, Textual and Historical Studies, 217-238. 66 between Esau/Edom and the first Israelites was inspired by Gen 27:40-41 and Amos 1:11.15 In Gen 27:40 Isaac "blesses" Esau that he will live by his sword and predicts that he will rebel against Jacob's yoke. In 27:41 Esau commits to killing Jacob once Isaac has died. The mention of the sword, a future rebellion, and the desire to kill Jacob could all support the creation of a tale in which Esau attacks Jacob after their father's death. Amos 1:11 would have provided further support for this, as it says that Edom "pursued his brother with the sword and cast off all pity, and his anger tore perpetually, and he kept his wrath forever." Even though this likely refers to events in Amos' eighth-century B.C.E. setting, it could easily be read by early interpreters as a reference to Esau and the first generation of Edomites. Indeed, the introduction to the war with Edom in Midrash Wayissa'u cites this verse (37.1). While a more detailed analysis of the various versions of our story and an investigation into its ultimate sources and origins would be interesting, for the sake of space we will limit ourselves to this brief discussion and occasional notes throughout our study. The main thing we can take away from this discussion is that Esau's speech is likely an original composition of the author of Jubilees that has been incorporated into an existing tradition about armed conflict between the first-generation Israelites and Edomites. Immediate Literary Context The exchange between Jacob and Esau we are examining is a climactic moment in the narrative of Jubilees and the culmination of a lengthy process of negative characterization of Esau. With his 14 For instance, the mercenary nations that we are actually told engage Jacob's sons in combat are the same nations that Judas is in conflict with in 1 Macc 5 and Ant. 12.8. VanderKam, Textual and Historical Studies, 233-235. 67 final disregard for the sacredness of oaths and filial piety Esau seals his fate.16 As Jacob indicates in 37:17, Esau has already sworn an oath to both his father and his mother, thus swearing two times before Isaac's death. Both of these oaths bind him to love his brother. These are the oaths Esau is about to flagrantly violate.17 As her death approached, Rebekah became concerned that Esau would harm Jacob. In both Genesis and Jubilees Esau's violence was an earlier fear of Rebekah's, one which prompted her to have Jacob sent to Laban (Gen 27:42-45 and Jub. 27:1-7). In Genesis this fear is ultimately assuaged when Jacob returns and is reconciled with Esau (32:3-33:16), but in Jubilees it resurfaces as Rebekah nears her death. Her solution is to ask Isaac to compel Esau to swear an oath that he will not harm Jacob, in the hopes that the power of an oath will ensure harmony between her sons. Isaac questions the efficacy of the oath as a deterrent, knowing that Esau is so impious that he will disregard it and still attempt to harm Jacob. Fortunately, Rebekah can rest assured that Jacob's guardian will protect him when this happens (35:9-17). Isaac follows Rebekah's wishes, but only after Esau has first sworn an oath to her directly in 35:24: "'I swear to you that I will love him and that throughout my entire lifetime I will not aim at what is bad for him but only at what is good.' He swore to her about this entire matter."18 15 Kugel, A Walk through Jubilees, 173. "Esau becomes for the community of Jubilees not only the symbol of their political enemies (Edomites) but also the arch-enemy of familial harmony, one of God's foremost commands to them" (Endres, Biblical Interpretation, 182). 17 In a sense he is also violating the oath from Jub. 24:5 by trying to get his birthright back through murder. 18 Livneh notes that the content of this oath draws on the commands of Lev 19:18b ("You shall love your neighbor as yourself") and Lev 19:17a ("You shall not hate your brother in your heart"). Atar Livneh, "Can the Boar Change Its Skin? Esau's Speech in Jubilees 37:18-23," Henoch 34 (2012): 76. Esau will vehemently reject both of these commands in his speech. 16 68 Later, when Isaac is approaching his own death, he solicits an oath from Esau (and Jacob) as Rebekah asked. The seriousness of this second oath is emphasized in the text: Now I will make you swear with the great oath — because there is no oath which is greater than it, by the praiseworthy, illustrious, and great, splendid, marvelous, powerful, and great name which made the heavens and the earth and everything together — that you will continue to fear and worship him, as each loves his brother kindly and properly. One is not to desire what is bad for his brother now and forever, throughout your entire lifetime, so that you may be prosperous in everything that you do and not be destroyed. If one of you aims at what is bad for his brother, be aware that from now on anyone who aims at what is bad for his brother will fall into his control and will be uprooted from the land of the living, while his descendants will be destroyed from beneath the sky. On the day of turmoil and curse, of anger and wrath — with a blazing fire that devours — he will burn his land, his city, and everything that belongs to him just as he burned Sodom. He will be erased from the disciplinary book of mankind. He will not be entered in the book of life but in the one that will be destroyed. He will pass over to an eternal curse so that their punishment may always be renewed with denunciation and curse, with anger, pain, and wrath, and with blows and eternal sickness. I am reporting and testifying to you, my sons, in accord with the punishment which will come on the man who wishes to do what is harmful to his brother (36:7-11). Esau's violation of this oath happens fairly quickly after it has been sworn, both in narrative time and in discourse time. In narrative time the violation occurs either immediately afterwards or approximately five years later,19 and in discourse time it occurs in the very next chapter. Isaac's extensive description of the oath and the rapidity of Esau's violation of it both serve to underline the gross impiety revealed in Esau's speech. 19 There is some confusion on this point in the text. Jub. 37:1 tells us that "On the day that Isaac, the father of Jacob and Esau, died Esau's sons heard that Isaac had given the birthright to his younger son Jacob. They became very angry." This anger quickly turns into murderous intent, as they make preparations to attack Jacob and his sons. This seems to indicate that the war between Jacob and Esau occurred fairly quickly after Isaac's death. However, in 37:14 we learn that Jacob is in mourning for Leah when Esau's army approaches. This is problematic because Leah died in 2167 AM (36:21), five years after Isaac's death. See Kugel, A Walk through Jubilees, 174-175 for a discussion of some of these issues. T. Jud. 9.1 notes that the Israelites and Edomites were at peace for eighteen years before the conflict. M.W. sets the battle in the year Leah died (37.1). 69 Interestingly, it is not Esau himself, but his sons who initially instigate the attack that will violate Esau's oaths.20 His sons feel slighted because Jacob, the younger son, received the birthright, a fact that they learn at Isaac's death, presumably as Isaac's possessions are being divided among his two sons (37:1-2). Esau explains that he sold his birthright and that Jacob tricked him out of his blessing. He also rehearses the oath that Isaac made him and Jacob swear, reminding the reader yet again of Esau's oath not to harm his brother (37:3-4). Unfortunately, Esau's sons will not be dissuaded. They are determined to kill Jacob and his sons, and threaten to harm Esau as well if he does not cooperate (37:5). Esau has already been established as someone who disregards filial piety — now it seems that the first generation of Edomites has an even more severe disregard for such values.21 Unlike Jacob, who went to great lengths to honor his parents, and unlike Jacob's son Judah who refuses to kill Esau out of reverence for his father and uncle (38:1), Esau's children have murderous disdain for their elders. Against their father's continued warnings the children of Esau put together an international army of mercenaries, drawing fighters from the traditional enemies of Israel: Aram, Philistia, Moab, Ammon, and the Kittim. After the army has been assembled Esau's sons threaten him with death once more (37:11). We learn yet again of Esau's disapproval of their actions before he undergoes an evil transformation (37:12-13). Remembering "all of the evil hidden in his heart against Jacob," Esau forgets "the oath that he had sworn to his father and mother not to aim at anything bad against his brother Jacob throughout his entire lifetime."22 At the height 20 This is a departure from what we see in M.W. and T. Jud. In M.W. it is Esau who is the initiator, and though his sons are mentioned (37.5, 13-4), they do not play a primary role in the account. In T. Jud. Esau’s sons are definitely part of the attacking force, but again it is Esau who is emphasized as the antagonist. 21 On filial piety, see Jub. 7:16, 12:30, 13:18, 20:2, 27:6, 29:15, 34:3, 35:1. For the contrast between Jacob and Esau on this issue see 35:9-12. Cf. Endres, Biblical Interpretation, 115-117. 22 Jub. 37:13. Kugel originally argued that the incongruity of Esau's original resistance to his sons and his unabashed animosity towards Jacob as leader of the mercenary army point towards two different traditions that have been weaved together. James Kugel, Traditions of the Bible: A Guide to the Bible as it was at the Start of the Common Era (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998), 371. In his recent commentary he argues instead that Esau's "waffling and ultimate transformation" is due to the fact that as Isaac and Rebekah's child he could not be completely vilified. His children on the other hand "are halfbreeds" and they are able to persuade the weak 70 of Esau's earlier murderous rage Rebekah had urged Jacob to leave home until his brother forgot "the full extent of what you [Jacob] did to him" (27:3). Esau now remembers what he had earlier forgotten, and in the process forgets the covenant he has made. In the biblical tradition mnemonics is tied to faithfulness, and Esau here proves to be unfaithful by remembering what he should forget and forgetting what he should remember. With Esau's change of heart the narrative now shifts to Jacob in Hebron where he is in mourning for Leah and unaware of the army coming towards him. Fortunately, the people of Hebron are more fond of Jacob than they are of Esau and they warn him of Esau's plans (37:15). Jacob, however, cannot believe it is true until he sees them approaching the tower of Hebron with his own eyes. It is at this point that our text begins: Jacob closes the tower of Hebron, stands on top, and addresses his brother Esau, chastising him and reminding him of the oath he swore to their parents. We now turn our attention to this exchange. Text and Translation As we have already mentioned, Jubilees was originally composed in Hebrew and then translated into Greek and possibly into Syriac.23 From the Greek version it was translated into Latin and Ethiopic. Fortunately, our passage is not only preserved in the Ethiopic version but also in Syriac and in a fragmentary Hebrew manuscript from Qumran, making it one of the rare passages with triple-attestation. The events following our passage are also preserved in the Latin. The sole Hebrew testimony for our text comes from 4QpapJubh (4Q223-224), which has been edited by VanderKam and Milik in DJD XIII.24 This very fragmentary manuscript is dated on paleographic grounds to the late Hasmonean period (c. 75-50 B.C.E. ), with a preference for the earlier part of that Esau. Kugel, A Walk through Jubilees, 176-177. We will make an alternative suggestion in the next chapter. 23 VanderKam, Textual and Historical Studies, 8-10. He treats the hypothesis that the Syriac Chronicle draws on a Syriac source that was ultimately translated from the Hebrew without a Greek intermediary favourably. 24 James C. VanderKam and J.T. Milik, "223-224. 4QpapJubh," in Qumran Cave 4 VIII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 1 (ed. H.W. Attridge et al; DJD XIII; Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), 95-140. 71 period.25 Since the Ethiopic provides us with the fullest and the most accurate version, we will use it as our base text for translation and analysis, interacting with the Hebrew and Syriac evidence where extant and relevant.26 Transcriptions of the Hebrew and Syriac texts and extensive textual notes are given in Appendix I. Our new English translation of the Ethiopic reflects emendations and refinements suggested by the Hebrew evidence. These emendations will be indicated by italicized text in the translation. We have included the Ethiopic version of our passage below. The text is taken unmodified from VanderKam's critical edition.27 Since the publication of VanderKam's edition in 1989 over twenty new manuscripts of Ethiopic Jubilees have come to light.28 We have transcribed and collated two of the most significant among the new manuscripts, Gunda Gund! 162 and EMML 9001.29 Erho dates Gunda Gund! 162 to the late fourteenth century, making it one of our earliest manuscripts of Ethiopic Jubilees, and further notes its generally unaffiliated text-type.30 He dates EMML 9001 to the early fifteenth century.31 These manuscripts confirm the continuing reliability of VanderKam's edition and the general textual stability of Ethiopic Jubilees. As our notes show, most of the variants come from EMML 9001, many of which reflect expansionist tendencies in the addition of conjunctions and the stating of implied subjects. In most other places where these two new manuscripts vary from the critical edition it involves spelling choices, and in many of these cases there is broad variation in the manuscript tradition. 25 VanderKam and Milik, "4QpapJubh," 96. 26 Regarding the accuracy of the Ethiopic text over the Syriac, we will see in our notes below that the Syriac abbreviates the Hebrew and that the Ethiopic frequently agrees with the available Hebrew evidence against the Syriac. 27 James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees: A Critical Text (Lovanii: E. Peeters, 1989). 28 Ted Erho, "New Ethiopic Witnesses to some Old Testament Pseudepigrapha," BSOAS (2013): 4. For a summary of this new manuscript evidence see Erho, 3-16. 29 We express our thanks to the Hill Museum & Manuscript Library for making images of these manuscripts available to us. We have not noted common letter substitutions (! = " and # = $ ) in the manuscripts. Where a variant from our new manuscripts agrees with variants from Vanderkam's apparatus we have indicated the manuscript numbers in parentheses. 30 Erho, "New Ethiopic Witnesses," 5-6. 72 While our primary focus is on Esau's speech proper, we are also including Jacob's brief address (v. 17) and the two concluding verses (vv. 24 and 25) in our translation and analysis below. Ge'ez Text (17) !"#! $ %&'# $ ()*+ , !-. $ /01 $ 1+23 $ !1&45 $ 607 $ 89: ; $ ?&@ $ ABC $ .D8E $ F&GHI $ J8K1 $ 38LF@ $ 8K1 $ M1F , GA $ /8N $ .OP $ H.OQE $ 7%RE $ !786E $ STJ $ H8KJ7 $ =UF $ %J0E $ 8.OP $ !JVW1 $ .OQE $ 7%RE $ 1XYKE ,32 (18) !/81 $ ZC $ %/[% $ ;\ $ %Q] $ 7/^_ $ V38 $ !7%`a1 $ 6+b $ .OP $ c+' $ H.O^ $ .d\U $ 80E $ 7W76 , !8K1 $ #3OF $ @e[f $ GKN $ 7GKN $ 8g@ $ !E. $ ='FQ $ %Oh $ #Pi: $ !j5 ,33 (19) !F#Q%I $ %K1 $ kl@ $ !/^+@ $ 80E $ 7W76 $ !%Q] $ 4m5 $ 60nE $ o8p ,34 (20) 0(T $ HK1 $ Y4b@ $ H%Y $ 8Yq5E $ 8. $ =rQs $ O`/l $ (8t $ !#uvw $ E. $ j6b $ 78. $ %+E. $ !8. $ !x% $ yJ $ b8z $ %'bKF $ E. $ %'bK1 $ {@Q $ !%2qT $ %|} $ 843b $ 60nE $ o8p , 1*Q~ $ %s2F $ 868MK $ 80. $ iKEI $ 8)! ,35 (21) !8. $ 43Ä $ 1ÅPF $ VP. $ 607 $ .O0T $ E. $ i=3QTÇU , !E. $ i=F%4QÇU36 $ !8. $ Y $ %Q2mÉU $ JPTnÉU $ !%?KÑ $ %|} $ =E/K $ J/01 $ Q3@ $ PTnE $ VP637 (22) !78. $ Y $ %KJ< $ ()*v $ 7PÖ6 , !78. $ 1j6_ $ 60n: $ J%bÜF $ !O5V $ 60n: $ !435 $ VP. $ 60n: $ %|} $ 843b $ VP. $ 60nE ,38 31 Ibid., 6. !"#!]+ @T-3 9001. !-.]!-U 162 (9). ?&@]?&= 162 (12 21 58). .D8E]+ H9001. .OP](áP 162 9001. STJ]+ !- 9001. =UF]=UN 162 9001 (9 20 39c 42 44 47 48). %J0E]%J0S 162. 8.OP]8()P 162. !JVW1]!JV"F 162 (9 17 38 39 48); !JT71 9001. 33 %/[%]%/[à 9001. .OP](áP 162. 7W76]+ !8KH 9001. !8K1]om. ! 9001. #3OF]#JOF 162. @e[f]@eâ 162 (9 38); @e[[ 9001 (39 58). %Oh] + %Oh 9001 (20 25 35 58). #Pi:]+ #7ä 162. !j5]!jb 162 (17 44); !jv 9001 (9 21 38 39 48). 34 !F#Q%I]!FDQ%I 9001. !/^+@]!/^_@ 9001. o8p]18p 162 9001 (42 47). 35 8.]+ !- 9001. =rQs]=r7s 9001. O`/l]e`al 162. !#uvw]!#uÄw 162 (9). !8.]!78. 9001. yJ b8z/%'bKF] tr. 162 (42 47 48). %|}]!%|} 9001. o8p]18p 9001 (35 42). 1*Q~]1*Qã 9001 (17 20 38 47 48 63). 8)!]%p! 162. 32 36 The root is spelled with " rather than % in Wolf Leslau, Concise Dictionary of Ge’ez (Classical Ethiopic) (Wiesbaden: O. Harrassowitz, 1989), 179. These gutturals are frequently interchanged in the manuscript tradition. 37 1ÅPF]1ÅP 162 (9 38). !%?KÑ]7%?KÑ 162 9001. %|}]+ !-9001. PTnE]7TnE 162. VP6]VP. 9001 (12 20 25 38 44). 73 (23) !"# $ %&'! $ ()* $ +# $ ,- $ ./0 $ ."12 $ +# $ .3425+ $ !"672 $ 189+ $ :;# < =>?@ $ .A= $ !B>?C $ @DE+ $ !FB5A $ G+ $ :;1 <39 (24) !HIJ $ 2"K $ L&M7 $ +# $ ."+K $ "1NO $ ;&9P $ !"1QD $ R3S $ +# $ BT*U < !#V. $ "AW $ LAX2&Y $ +# $ #3G8 $ WB#V" $ !8= $ ?1Z WB?[\ $ !B4*U $ !FB]8N $ "1^P <40 (25) @"= $ IJ $ B_ $ G"`.P $ !G.[72aP $ +# $ BbEc $ !GQUd $ eN.fP <41 Translation (17) And he [Jacob] shut the gates of the tower. He stood on the top and spoke with his brother Esau and said: "A beautiful consolation you came to console me (with) because of my wife who died! Is this the oath which you twice swore to your father and to your mother before he died? You sinned against the oath, and in the hour which you swore to your father you were convicted." (18) Then Esau answered and said: "The sons of men and snakes do not have a faithful oath which, having sworn it, they swear forever. Everyday they seek out evil, these against these, and how one might kill his enemy and adversary. (19) And you will indeed hate me and my children forever, and there will be no observing brotherhood with you. (20) Hear these my words which I tell you. If a pig changes his hide and even softens his hair like wool, and if horns come out of his head like the horns of the ram and the flock, then I will observe brotherhood with you. The breasts have been separated from their mother, because you are not a brother to me. (21) And if the wolves make peace with the lambs, so that they do not eat them or oppress them, and if their hearts are towards them and they treat (them) well, then in my heart there will be peace towards you. (22) And if a lion becomes a friend and a confidant to an ox, and if it is yoked with him and plows (with) one yoke, then I will make peace with you. !G"#]!.# 162 9001 (9). .AHg].Ahg 162. 189P]+H.ijk 9001. H.2j*]om. H9001. !i?:]!i?8 162. ./0]+ !- 9001. :;# 189+]trans. 9001 (25 35 42 47). 39 !"#]!.# 9001 (20 21 35 63). %&'!]l&'! 162; l&'@ 9001. ,-]?- 162. ./0]+ !9001. !"672]!"[H2 9001. =>?@]=>m 162; + !- 9001. !FB5A]!FBn@A 9001. 40 ."+K]+ og@ 9001. "1NO].Np 162. ;&9P/!"1QD R3S]trans. 9001. WB#V"]WB#l" 162. ?1Z]?1g 162. WB?[\ !B4*U]WBT*U $ !WB?[W 162. !FB]8N]!FB:G8 162. 41 @"=]!B"= 9001 (20 25 35 44). G"`.P]G"`qP 162. 38 74 (23) And if ravens become white like the pelican, then know that I love you and I will make peace with you. May you be cut off and your children be cut off. There will be no peace for you. (24) And then Jacob saw that he brought forth evil against him from his heart and from his entire soul in order to kill him. And he came bounding like a boar which comes upon a spear that pierces him and kills him and he does not turn back from it. (25) And then he told his sons and his servants to attack him and all of his companions. The Opening Plea According to Jubilees, Hebron is a developed city with a tower.42 Abraham first comes to Hebron in Jub. 13:10 and the city is built at that point. It is listed several times as the dwelling of the ancestors,43 but the tower of Hebron is only mentioned explicitly in 36:12, 20 and in the narrative of the war between Esau and Jacob. There is also a mention of a tower in 29:19-20 and 31:6. Kugel believes these refer to the tower of Eder (r®dEo_lå;d!gIm), the only tower mentioned in the ancestral narratives in Genesis.44 Jacob begins his rebuke of Esau with sarcasm: "A beautiful consolation!" The fact that Esau is attacking Jacob during his time of mourning makes his sin even more egregious. Jacob reminds Esau of his double-oath, identifying his current aggression as a sin or transgression against it. The phrase here is likely howbCb htafj.45 Interestingly, it is not at this present moment that Esau is convicted/condemned, but in the hour which he swore it.46 There is a sense here that his violation was inevitable, just as Isaac predicted. It is important to note that Jacob does not actually make a 42 T. Jud. does not tell us where the battle occurred. M.W. places Jacob and his sons within a "fortress" (h"ryI;b; 37.1) but does not identify Hebron as its location. 43 Jub. 13:21; 14:11; 19:1-7; 22:4; 45:15-16; 46:11. 44 Kugel, A Walk through Jubilees, 142. 45 Cf. Eccl 9:2 46 Cf. John 3:18: oJ de« mh\ pisteu/wn h¡dh ke÷kritai. 75 request for peace with Esau.47 By referring back to the oaths they swore, however, he is implicitly asking Esau to remember the terms of that oath and observe peace with him. The Speech Humans and Snakes Esau responds to Jacob's invocation of their earlier oaths by questioning the very validity of the practice. Isaac's earlier skepticism about the ability of an oath to deter Esau's evil behavior has been confirmed. Neither "sons of men" nor "snakes" have a "faithful oath" which is eternally valid: no one keeps an oath forever. What are we to make of the invocation of both human beings and snakes? In our discussion of Achilles' speech we noted two ways that Achilles' lion simile could be read: (1) that there is no faithful oath between lions and men (an interspecies comment), or (2) that lions and men are analogous because neither makes faithful oaths (an intra-species comment). In our discussion there we opted for the first reading. In Esau's speech we face the same question. Is he saying that there is no faithful oath between human beings and snakes?48 Or is he saying that neither human beings nor snakes make faithful oaths? In favor of the former reading is the traditional enmity between human beings and snakes (Gen 3:15 and Isa 11:8), as well as the fact that interspecies animosity comes into view later in the speech.49 However, if this were the intended meaning we might expect to see NˆyA;b, which is used to express a covenant/agreement/oath between 47 These do not seem to be the "words of peace, friendship, and brotherhood" to which M.W. 37.3 refers. 48 This is the interpretation adopted by Livneh ("Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 80-81). 49 Note, however, that Jubilees' rendition of the curse in the Garden does not include enmity between the seed of the woman and the serpent (3:23-25). Beyond a possible allusion to the curse in Gen 3:15, Esau's words may also be reflecting the deceptiveness of the snake in the garden (Gen 3:13). Deception and oath-breaking are related to each other, as each are untrustworthy acts and a false oath often has the purpose of deceiving. It should be noted that Charlesworth has questioned the traditional depiction of the serpent in the garden as a deceiver. James H. Charlesworth, The Good and Evil Serpent: How a Universal Symbol Became Christianized (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010), 275-324. However, regardless of what 76 two parties,50 strife between parties, 51 and most notably the enmity between humans and serpents.52 Instead, the Hebrew uses a lamed of possession for "sons of men" and presumably for "snakes" as well.53 There are no examples in the Hebrew Bible of this pattern54 that we can consult for comparative data. Since NˆyA;b was not used it might be more natural to take the second reading, that neither humans nor snakes have faithful oaths. However, if our passage really is modeled on Achilles' speech, then it is possible that it is mirroring the syntax of Il. 22.262. This may make the absence of NˆyA;b less significant as it would merely reflect the absence of such a term in Achilles' speech. As we argued above, Achilles' speech envisions interspecies animosity. After claiming that snakes and humans do not have a faithful oath that they swear forever, Esau goes on to say this: "Everyday they seek out evil, these against these, and how one might kill his enemy and adversary."55 Not only is there a failure to observe oaths forever, but "they" actively try to harm each other. Something as civilized as an oath-bound covenant has no place in a "dog-eatdog world." Who is the "they" that is seeking evil and who is the "they" seeking evil against? Are serpents and humans both still in view here, or has Esau merely used serpents as a poignant analogy before shifting to focus entirely on the human world?56 Is this a picture of enmity between the original story may have meant, Charlesworth himself agrees that some early interpreters saw the serpent as a negative, deceptive character (292; e.g., Philo, QG, 1.33). 50 Gen 9:12, 15; 17:2, 7, 10; 26:28; 31:44, 48, 51; Exod 22:10; Lev 26:46. 51 Gen 13:7-8. 52 Gen 3:15. 53 While the Hebrew is missing in this spot we do find a la- preposition in the Ethiopic. On the lamed of possession see Bruce K. Waltke and M. O’Connor, An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 206-207. The lameds of possession do not, in and of themselves, carry the sense of “between. ” This relationship would need to be implied by the context. 54 Lamed of possession + noun + vav conjunction + lamed of possession + noun. 55 The plural demonstrative pronouns hlal hla seem to be functioning reciprocally with the lamed preposition indicating (dis)advantage: "against each other" (cf. Isa 6:3). 56 Kugel (A Walk through Jubilees, 177) notes that Esau's words sound "a bit like a popular saying or proverb: Do not trust people any more than you trust snakes!" Cf. Pss. Sol. 4:9-11: "And their eyes are on a man's peaceful house, as a serpent destroys the wisdom of others with criminal words. His words are deceitful that (he) may accomplish (his) evil desires . . . he deceived with words; (as if) there were no one to see and to judge . . ." (Wright; cited in Livneh, 77 humans and serpents as they seek evil for each other, or a picture either of humans exclusively seeking evil for other humans or even humans and serpents seeking evil for their own respective enemies? There is a level of ambiguity here, but the primary point still stands: Esau has a vision of the world in which oaths and civility are ultimately meaningless. Esau has thus rejected Jacob's invocation of the oaths, rejecting in the process the very possibility of an eternal oath. As we will see below, this sets him in opposition to God's covenants. Esau's statements reflect a pessimism about the efficacy of oaths that arises in ancient literature.57 As Philo would later make clear, oaths are only necessary because there is some existing distrust.58 If someone asks you to swear an oath, it is because your word alone is not good enough for them. This naturally raises the question: if someone's word is not trustworthy, how can we trust their word even if it is bound by an oath? Esau taps into this tradition of pessimism regarding the usefulness of oaths, just as Isaac did earlier (Jub. 35:15). However, both Philo and Isaac argue that even if oaths do not deter unfaithful behavior, their built-in curse is still ultimately effective.59 Esau will die for his transgression. After making generic statements Esau brings them to bear on the immediate situation (v.19). There will be no brotherhood between him and Jacob. It is interesting that he has placed the blame for this on Jacob, thus attempting to distance himself from the unflattering picture he has just created of humanity. It is Jacob who hates Esau and his sons ("And you will indeed hate me and my children forever . . ."; v.19a). Thus even though Esau seems to be impiously challenging the validity of oaths, he wants to imply that it is Jacob, not himself, who is ultimately transgressing the oath. In a sense, he tries to cast Jacob as the snake, while the reader recognizes that it is Esau who is ultimately deceptive and faithless. "Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 81 n.20). It is worth noting that there is a reference a few verses earlier to the wicked swearing falsely: ". . . his tongue lies when swearing a contract" (4:4; Wright). It is likely a coincidence, but ravens also appear in this chapter (4:20). 57 Albert J. Harrill, "Divine Judgment against Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5:1-11): A Stock Scene of Perjury and Death," JBL 130 (2011): 358-361. 58 Decal. 84. 59 Decal. 86-87, 95. 78 The Conditional Statements Esau continues to elaborate on the impossibility of peace between himself and Jacob, using a series of animal images (vv.20-23). The basic goal here is to draw on proverbial impossibilities in the natural world in order to illustrate the impossibility and even ridiculousness of peace between the two brothers. They take the form of conditional statements, and can be summarized as follows: (1) If a pig (a) changes its hide and (b) grows horns like a ram or sheep, then Esau will honor brotherhood with Jacob. (2) If wolves make peace with lambs then there will be peace in Esau's mind towards Jacob. (3) If the lion befriends the ox, then Esau will make peace with Jacob. (4) If ravens turn white like the pelican, then Esau will love Jacob and will make peace with him. All four of these statements have a similar effect to our English expressions "when pigs fly" or "when hell freezes over." Such sayings are used to illustrate the impossibility and ridiculousness of some course of action, and are an example of adynaton,60 a common rhetorical technique in many cultures.61 60 Tuffin's definition of adynaton may be a little narrow, but it fits well with what we see in Esau's speech: "a form of expression which brings into close relation a natural or physical impossibility and an impossibility in the speaker's or writer's mind, and in which the impossibility of this second element becoming either true or false is made clear by its relationship with the natural or physical impossibility." Paul Tuffin, "The Whitening Crow: Some ADUNATA in the Greek Tradition," Epeteris tou Kentrou Epistemonikon Ereunon 6 (1972-1973): 80. Cf. Danforth's comments: "This convention, which is put to powerful use in Greek funeral laments, involves the equation of a natural or physical impossibility with an impossibility in the mind of the person who employs the adynaton." Loring M. Danforth, The Death Rituals of Rural Greece (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982), 151. Coon prefers to call this phenomenon "reversal of nature" because "we have not what is impossible but what is unnatural." Raymond Huntington Coon, "The Reversal of Nature as a Rhetorical Figure," Indiana University Studies 80 (1923): 4. 61 See Coon, "The Reversal of Nature" for examples. 79 The Physical Transformation Statements While these four conditional statements all include pairs of animals and ultimately serve the same rhetorical purpose, there are two distinct sets of logic at work. In the first and fourth protases (pigs and ravens) Esau highlights distinctive and unchangeable physical features of a particular animal, and then envisions a transformation of this feature that would make the animal similar to another animal which is quite different in regard to that specific feature. To illustrate this we might modify two common English sayings: "If a pig grows wings and flies like a crow" or "if a zebra changes its stripes so it looks like a horse." The contrast between the animals in each statement is purely physical. Esau's first and fourth conditional statements illustrate the impossibility of peace with Jacob by pointing to something else that seems quite far-fetched and impossible: pigs with soft hair and horns, and white ravens. On the surface it seems that the only analogy between the protases and apodoses is the fact that both are things which are impossible. While this remains the primary analogy, the unchanging nature of these physical features is also analogous to Esau's unchanging, wicked nature.62 The pig and raven statements find one of their most significant logical antecedents in Jeremiah 13:23.63 There the prophet says: :AoérDh yäédU;mIl byIfyEhVl …wlVk…w;t MR;tAa_MÅ…g wyDtOrU;b!rAbSj rEmÎn"w wørwøo yIv…w;k JKOpShÅySh Can the Ethiopian change his skin or the leopard his spots? Then also you can do good who are accustomed to do evil (RSV). As in the pig and raven statements, the prophet points to unchangeable physical features — specifically the skin — in order to illustrate the impossibility of something. A leopard cannot 62 "Like the boar and the ravens, Esau has demonstrated that he cannot change his nature and behave righteously." Livneh, "Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 88. Isaac already knew this (Jub. 35:15). Wisdom of Solomon portrays the Canaanites in a similar way: "But judging them little by little thou gavest them a chance to repent, though thou wast not unaware that their origin was evil and their wickedness inborn, and that their way of thinking would never change" (12:10 RSV). 63 Livneh similarly identifies Jeremiah 13:23 as one of the key inspirations for Esau's speech, going so far as to say that in the pig statement the author of Jubilees "paraphrases" Jeremiah's rhetorical question ("Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 86). Livneh is basing his point primarily 80 change his spots and a Cushite cannot change his skin, so neither can the people, who are accustomed to evil, do good. Both are dealing with a subject (sinful Judah/Esau) whose wickedness seems beyond remedy. Beyond the rhetorical similarities there is an important lexical connection between this passage and Esau's speech. Both use the verb JKApDh to express the hypothetical transformation, a verb that Holladay notes is rarely used to express change.64 The syntax of the Jeremiah passage is different from our text, as it uses an interrogative he ("Does the Ethiopian change his skin or the leopard his spots?") followed by MÅ…g ("also/neither you . . ."), rather than our conditional if/then formula (za . . .Ma). However, Holladay notes that this unique construction in Jeremiah 13:23 is really the functional equivalent of a conditional statement.65 The passage is thus quite similar to what we see in Esau's speech, with the primary difference lying in the fact that Esau speaks of a transformation that would make a creature look like another creature, while Jeremiah merely speaks of a transformation. If the author of Esau's speech was intentionally drawing upon this Jeremiah passage, then we have to ask why the specific examples (Cushite and leopard) were changed to a pig and a raven. Was this to veil the reference? Or did pigs and ravens carry important connotations that the Cushite and leopard lacked? These are questions we can keep in mind as we examine the text further. We need to entertain the possibility that our author wanted to take advantage of earlier sources, alluding to or echoing them, but without quoting them directly. He may have changed them just enough that they would still remind the attuned reader of the earlier texts, but seem like on parallel concepts and content. Our argument for linguistic similarities below furthers demonstrates the connection with Jeremiah. 64 William L. Holladay, Jeremiah 1: A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah Chapters 1-25, (ed. Paul D. Hanson; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986), 414. Notice also that the LXX does not translate this as a question, but uses an ei˙ . . . kai« construction. 65 Holladay, Jeremiah 1, 415. 81 original compositions. If this is the case with Jeremiah 13:23, then it may help to explain the differences between our passage and the Iliad as well. The author of Esau's speech has included enough elements to bring Jeremiah 13:23, Isaiah's peaceable kingdom visions (see below), and Achilles' speech to mind, but altered the sources so that it still seems like an original composition.66 This does still leave us with a question about the origins of the particular images that the author 67 68 69 chose for the first and fourth protases. The individual animals—the ryzj, lya, Nwax, brwo, 66 70 Some might object that such a subtle approach is not fitting for an author who unabashedly mimics biblical texts like Genesis and Exodus. However, (1) the author does in fact differentiate his text from Genesis-Exodus through modifications and through a narrative framework which conceals the work's later literary dependence on these earlier texts by attributing it to direct revelation, and (2) there is a difference between a semi-verbatim reproduction of a text that is describing the same event (something about Jacob, for instance), and the (semi)verbatim reproduction of a text from a different time and context. Within the context of Esau's speech an overt dependence on a later prophetic text would damage the fiction/illusion the author is trying to create. We might also expect, as Philip Alexander suggests, that intertextual connections in narratives will tend to be less explicit. Philip Alexander, "A Typology of Intertextual Relations Based on the Manchester-Durham Typology of Anonymous and Pseudepigraphic Jewish Literature of Antiquity," in Between Text and Text: The Hermeneutics of Intertextuality in Ancient Cultures and Their Afterlife in Medieval and Modern Times (ed. Michaela Bauks, Wayne Horowitz, and Armin Lange; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013), 72. 67 The pig (ryˆzSj) is mentioned several times in the Hebrew Bible. It is an unclean animal (Lev 11:7 and Deut 14:8) and the consumption of its flesh is one of the dark deeds of Third Isaiah’s rebellious ones (Isa 65:4; see also 66:17). The use of its blood in worship is abominable (Isa 66:3). Its feral version ravages Israel, the vine God planted (Ps 80:13). The sage likens a gold ring in its snout to a beautiful woman lacking in wisdom (Prov 11:22). We see from these examples that the pig receives a consistently negative portrayal in the Hebrew Bible. 68 There is some ambiguity with the term lya, which can be read as either "ram" or "stag." See the discussion of v.20 in Appendix I, where we argue that "ram" is the preferable reading. The ram appears quite frequently in the Hebrew Bible as livestock (e.g., Gen 31:38, 32:14, Ezek 27:21) and a sacrificial animal (e.g., Gen 15:9, 22:13, Exod 29, Lev 5:15-18, Lev 6:6, 8:2, 8:18). Its skins are used (Exod 25:5, 26:14, 35:7, 35:23, 36:19, 39:34) and its wool is mentioned (2 Kgs 3:4). 69 Nwax ("flock") is a common and flexible word in the Hebrew Bible, which refers to small livestock, specifically sheep and goats (G.Waschke, "Nax," TDOT 12:198). Both species are capable of growing horns. 82 and taq—71 do all appear within the Hebrew Bible. However, some of the physical features which Esau highlights are either entirely absent or rarely mentioned, and there are no other examples of adynaton in the Hebrew Bible that make use of them. It will be helpful to give some attention to possible sources and parallels to the imagery in these statements. We will give brief attention to each animal pairing in turn. Esau envisions two transformations for the pig: its hide becoming like wool, and it growing a horn like the ram and the flock (»N[waxw] [ly]|a). The horns of the ram and flock are highlighted in literature contemporary to Jubilees.72 The bristly nature of swine hide is something that is apparent to anyone who has been around pigs or wild boars, but nowhere in the Hebrew Bible are its hide or lack of a horn emphasized. The only discussion of its physical features are its split hoof and the fact that it does not chew the cud (Lev 11:7 and Deut 14:8). Livneh suggests that the emphasis on the pig's hide is an allusion to Jeremiah 13:23, which we noted above 70 Ravens (Mybrwo) make several appearances in the Hebrew Bible. They play a key role in the narratives of the Flood (Gen 8:7) and Elijah's exile (1 Kgs 17:4-6). God's care for their young is highlighted in Ps 147:9 and Job 38:41 and the species in general in Luke 12:24. According to Rabbinic tradition these young are abandoned by their parents for being born white, and God cares for them as a reward for the ancient ravens who taught Adam how to bury Abel (Pirqe Rabbi Eliezer 21 and Yalqut Shimoni 8:2. Quoted and cited in Gershon Brin, "The Idea and Sources of Esau's Speech in Jubilees 37 according to 4QpapJubileesh, Unit 2, Col. IV" (in Hebrew), in Studies in Bible and Exegesis, Vol. VI: Yehuda Otto Komlosh — In Memoriam (ed. by Rimon Kasher and Moshe A. Zippor; Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 2002), 22. Ravens are listed as one of the animals along with the pelican/taq, porcupines, owls, and ravens that will inhabit Edom after God's judgment has made it desolate (Isa 34:11). Along with vultures they play a role in the judgment of disobedient children whose mocking eyes will be plucked out and eaten by ravens and vultures (Prov 30:17; scavenging is one of the roles of ravens, as we see in this passage and in T. Jud. 21:8. Ravens plucking out eyes is also seen in Pss. Sol. 4:20). Both Lev 11:15 and Deut 14:14 list them as unclean birds. 71 See discussion in Appendix I. 72 The ram in Dan 8:3, 7, 20; 1 En. 89:43 and 90:9-16. The male goat in Dan 8:5 has a horn. 83 similarly highlights the unchanging skin of the Cushite and the leopard.73 The choice of a pig as the substitute for the Cushite/leopard may be due to the connection between Esau and boars in early Jewish tradition, a point we will return to below. Livneh also draws our attention to a saying in the Syriac version of Ahiqar, which similarly mentions a transformation of the pig's hide to wool: My son, not when thou hadst killed me, wouldst thou have been able to stand in my place; for be well aware, my son, that even if the tail of the swine should grow to seven ells, he would never take the place of the horse: and even if his hair should become soft and woolly, he would never ride on the back of a free man.74 The texts and traditions relating to Ahiqar are diverse and complicated, making any firm judgments on the relationship between Esau's speech and Syriac Ahiqar difficult. However, it is interesting to note that Ahiqar traditions were known to Palestinian Jews, and that Sirach contains some sayings that bear resemblance to sayings from Syriac Ahiqar. 75 Additionally, the pig skin adynaton occurs within Ahiqar's speech to his nephew who had violated the demands of 73 Livneh, "Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 85-86. F.C. Conybeare, J. Rendel Harris, and Agnes Smith Lewis, The Story of Ah!ik!ar from the Syriac, Arabic, Armenian, Ethiopic, Greek and Slavonic Versions (London: C.J. Clay and Sons, 1898), 80. The authors note that we should probably expect "the free man would never ride on his back" (80 n.3). This tradition seems to be absent from Aramaic Ahiqar. 75 Jonas C. Greenfield, "The Wisdom of Ahiqar," in Wisdom in Ancient Israel: Essays in Honour of J.A. Emerton (ed. John Day, Robert P. Gordon and H.G.M. Williamson; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 46-47, 50. Ahiqar is named in Tobit 1:21-22; 2:10; 11:18; and 14:10. Charles notes a parallel between Sirach 4:26 ("Stand not against the stream") and Syriac Ahiqar ("Stand not against a river in its flood"), as well as Sirach 22:14-15 ("What is heavier than lead? And what is its name but 'Fool'? Sand and salt and a weight of iron (are) easier to bear than a senseless man" // "My son, I have carried salt and removed lead: and I have not seen anything heavier than that a man should pay back a debt that he did not borrow. My son, I have carried iron and removed stones, and they were not heavier on me than a man who settles in the house of his father-in-law"). R.H. Charles, The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament in English: With Introductions and Critical and Explanatory Notes to the Several Books (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1913), 1:296. 74 84 filial piety by trying to frame his uncle, a context that has interesting resonance with Esau's speech. It is possible, then, that the author of Jubilees had some familiarity with a form of Ahiqar similar to the Syriac version, and drew from it in his construction of Esau's speech. However, it is also possible that both are drawing upon popular sayings and are entirely independent of each other. In fact, given the evolving character of Ahiqar texts and traditions, it is possible that the parallel sayings to Jubilees actually became a part of the Ahiqar tradition sometime after Esau's speech was composed. Based on all of these observations, it is possible that Jubilees' swine transformation statement is influenced by Jer 13:23, the early Jewish equation of Esau and swine (see further below), and a popular saying or perhaps an earlier form of Syriac Ahiqar. None of these sources, however, account for the additional emphasis on growing a horn. We will offer some additional information in the following chapter which might help to explain the emphasis on both the hide transformation and the growing of a horn. In the second physical transformation pair Esau envisions a presumably black raven becoming white like a pelican.76 The whiteness of the pelican seems to be otherwise absent from the Hebrew Bible and early Jewish tradition.77 Interestingly, though the black colour of the raven is an obvious physical characteristic, it is not one which the Hebrew Bible focuses on. The only passage in the Hebrew Bible which draws attention its blackness is Song of Songs 5:11: :bérwøoD;k twørOjVv My$I;lA;tVlA;t wyDtwø…x…wVq z¡DÚp MRtR;k wøvaør 76 See Appendix I for a discussion of the term taq, which we are translating as "pelican." The fact that pelicans appear together with ravens in several passages (Lev 11:15; Deut 14:14; Isa 34:11), and the fact that they are white probably led our author to pair them with the raven here. 77 85 His head is the finest gold; his locks are wavy, black as a raven (RSV). While the blackness of the ravens was not strongly emphasized in the Hebrew Bible, it became more important in later sources and is an element in a tradition that used the raven as a negative type. 78 For instance, Philo emphasizes the raven's colour in his symbolic interpretation of the bird: ". . . as a raven is a black, and arrogant, and speedy animal, it is a sign of wickedness, which brings night and darkness over the soul, and it is also swift to meet all the things of the world in its flight."79 For our purposes, traditions which deal with the colour transformation of the raven are particularly important. Augustine's Adnotationes in Iob 38 is interesting, since it may imply that the blackness/sinfulness of ravens/sinners may be turned white through forgiveness of sins.80 This may be one of our only examples in Jewish and Christian sources of the possibility of ravens turning white, although it must be emphasized that Augustine is speaking metaphorically. Brin points us to a Rabbinic text of particular relevance for our passage that emphasizes the impossibility of this happening: 78 ". . . it may well be that the raven's greatest disadvantage lay merely in the fact of its colour. Black signified evil . . . Thus, merely from the fact of their colour, ravens became symbolic of sinners themselves and worse." Richard Hillier, Arrator on the Acts of the Apostles: A Baptismal Commentary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993), 77. Hillier lists as examples Gregory of Elvira, De Arca Noe 25; Augustine, Adnot. in Iob 38; Cassiodorus, Expos. in Ps. 146.9; and Eucherius, Form. Spirit. Intell. 3: De Animantibus (77). Additional examples of negative appraisals of the raven can be found in Jub. 11:1-24; Philo, QG, 2.35-38; 4 Bar. 7:8; Augustine, Tractates on John VI. The Animal Apocalypse depicts some of Israel's enemies as ravens, which is possibly a reference to the Seleucids. Daniel C. Olson, A New Reading of the Animal Apocalypse of 1 Enoch: "All Nations Shall be Blessed," (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 129-143. For a general discussion of the raven in early Christian interpretation see Hillier, Arrator, 73-91. 79 QG, 2.35. 80 Hillier, Arrator, 77. It is noteworthy that the symbolic colour scheme of the Animal Apocalypse identifies certain wicked individuals and peoples with the colour black and the righteous with the colour white. See the discussion of the Animal Apocalypse below. 86 twmwa lk Mysnktm Ma Kk Nylwky Nnya brwo lC dja Pnk Nyblhl Mlwoh twmwa lk Mysnktm Ma81 Nylwky Nnya hrwthm dja rbd rwqol Mlwoh If man with all his knowledge and wisdom were to try his utmost to alter so little of nature or of creation as even to make the wing of the raven white, he would utterly fail in his efforts. Equally would they fail, if all nations of the world were to endeavor to annul one word of the Torah" (Leviticus Rabbah 19.2).82 Livneh draws our attention to another saying from Syriac Ahiqar and a counterpart in Armenian Ahiqar which also emphasize the impossibility of such transformations:83 My son, if the waters should stand up without earth, and the sparrow fly without wings, and the raven become white as snow, and the bitter become sweet as honey, then may the fool become wise (Syriac).84 Son, if the rivers pause in their courses or the sun in its career, or if the gall become sweet as honey, or the raven turn white as the dove, even so will the senseless man abandon his want of sense and the fool become sensible (Armenian).85 Ravens do not change from black to white. Indeed, in folklore and mythology the reverse is generally the case, as etiological tales try to explain how the ravens came to be black in the first place. For instance, a Syriac source attributed to St. Ephrem preserves a tradition about the colour transformation of ravens, claiming that Noah cursed the raven on the ark for not returning, and both it and its descendants after it became black.86 81 Hebrew quoted and cited in Brin, "The Idea and Sources of Esau's Speech," 22. http://www.sacred-texts.com/jud/mhl/mhl07.htm 83 Livneh, "Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 84. 84 Conybeare, Harris, and Lewis, The Story of Ah!ik!ar, 65. 85 Ibid., 33. 86 David M. Goldberg, The Curse of Ham: Race and Slavery in Early Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003), 100 and 286-287 n.43. Goldberg notes that this tradition is also found in Mandaean tradition and later Arabic and Palestinian folklore, but that it is not found in Jewish sources (287 n.43). 82 87 We see that though there is not a great deal of precedent in the Hebrew Bible for Jubilees' use of the raven in one of Esau's adynata, there are some parallels in later sources. In Jewish and Christian literature the blackness of the raven received increased emphasis and was part of a negative appraisal of the bird. A hypothetical colour transformation for the raven is found in adynata in Rabbinic literature as well as some versions of Ahiqar. The parallel in Armenian Ahiqar is especially noteworthy, as it mentions the raven turning white like another bird, although it is the dove not the pelican that is mentioned. The presence of such parallels indicate that the author of Esau's speech may have been drawing on popular sayings or proverbs in his invocation of the raven, and the further parallels with the Ahiqar traditions increases the possibility that Jubilees may have drawn on a precursor to the Syriac and/or Armenian forms of Ahiqar. In the next chapter we will discuss other parallels in the Greek tradition. The Social Transformation Statements In the second and third protases Esau does not draw attention to physical features of a particular animal, but rather social relations between two species.87 The impossible transformation that is envisioned involves a natural predator entering into peaceful and even productive domestic relationships with its natural prey. Like the first and fourth statements, the impossibility of this transformation is analogous to the impossibility of peace between the two brothers. However, there is a much deeper analogy in the middle statements because the protases envision peace between two rivals, just as Jacob is hoping for peace between himself and Esau. In a sense these conditional 87 We thus have a sandwich pattern: Physical transformation — social transformation — social transformation — physical transformation. Livneh points out that there is also an interesting grammatical pattern, in which the number of the animals alternates between the statements: pig (singular) — wolves (plural) — lion (singular) — ravens (plural) ("Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 85). These two different patterns give a sense of integration to the whole. 88 statements are more appropriate for what Esau is trying to communicate to Jacob than the pig and raven statements, although the latter statements are appropriate illustrations of Esau's intransigence. While the imagery in the physical transformation pairings lacks significant precedent in the Hebrew Bible, the imagery in the social transformation statements has strong parallels in both the Hebrew Bible and early Jewish tradition. To review, the protases of these statements set forth these conditions: ". . . if the wolves make peace with the lambs, so that they do not eat them or oppress them, and if their hearts are towards them and they treat (them) well . . . And if a lion becomes a friend and a confidant to an ox, and if it is yoked with him and plows (with) one yoke . . ." (37:2122). Esau thus envisions positive relations between between wolves and lambs, and between lions and oxen. The predatory nature of lions and wolves is seen throughout the Hebrew Bible. We have many texts that present lions as enemies of the human and domestic worlds.88 References to wolves are less common, but we do see them portrayed as a predator in passages like Genesis 49:27 and Ezekiel 22:7.89 In some cases lions and wolves appear together.90 These examples all provide 88 Judg 14:5-6; 1 Sam 17:34-37; 2 Sam 23:20; 1 Kgs 13:24-28, 20:36; 2 Kgs 17:25-26; Isa 31:4, 35:9, 38:13; Jer 50:17; Ezek 19:6; Dan 6; Amos 3:12, 5:19; Prov 22:13/26:13. Note in particular the presentation of nations as lions that devour Israel: Jer 4:7 and 50:17. The lion is a prominent symbol in the broader Ancient Near East, and the visual tradition often portrays the creature in conflict with humans and both wild and domestic prey: "Among images of wild animals and perhaps among images of all animals, the lion is the most common . . . The lion is almost the only animal represented in official monumental architecture, at the gates of cities and temples. It frequently occurs on luxury objects or cult furniture . . . Depending on its position in the figurative scenes, the lion symbolized the equivalence between the king of animals and the earthly king, which was asserted at the city gate. Alternatively, it is the adversary of the royal power. The lion is thus engaged in combat against a human being, the so-called hero . . .sometimes in the midst of pacific parading animals. These scenes can be read as cosmic battles between the hero, a mythical royal ancestor, and the lion, the embodiment of the forces of the wild that threaten cattle. The lion also attacks wild animals, such as deer and gazelles, which it always dominates. The frequent combat scenes between the lion and the bull again emphasize the ambiguity of the status of these animals, linked as they are to the concepts of kingship and to the storm god." Annie Caubet, "Animals in Syro-Palestinian Art," in A History of the Animal World in the Ancient Near East (ed. Billie Jean Collins; Leiden: Brill, 2002), 223. 89 The wolf's natural animosity toward sheep is a more common theme in early Jewish and Christian literature. In the Animal Apocalypse wolves representing Egyptians oppress sheep 89 interesting parallels to Esau's speech, but the texts that offer the most striking similarities are the "peaceable kingdom" visions in Isaiah: The wolf91 shall dwell with the lamb,92 and the leopard93 shall lie down with the kid94, and the calf95 and the lion96 and the fatling97 together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow98 and the bear99 shall feed; their young shall lie down together; and the lion100 shall eat straw like the ox.101 The sucking child shall play over the hole of the asp, 102 and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder's103 den (Isa 11:6-8 RSV). The wolf104 and the lamb105 shall feed together, the lion106 shall eat straw like the ox;107 and dust shall be the serpent's 108 food. They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain, says the LORD (Isa 65:25 RSV). representing Israel (1 En. 89:15, 55). In the New Testament false prophets are wolves in sheep's clothing (Matt 7:15), Jesus' disciples are presented as sheep sent out amongst wolves (Matt 10:16//Luke 10:3, Acts 20:29), and Jesus is the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep, unlike the hired person who does not risk his own life to protect the flock from wolves (John 10:11-13). The proverbial animosity between both wolves/lambs and lions/oxen continues in Rabbinic literature, like this saying from Aggadat Bereshit 79.9: rwvh rja yra hlfh rja Pdwr bazh hzh Mlwob ( "In this world the wolf pursues after the lamb, the lion after the ox . . ."; Hebrew cited and quoted in Brin, "The Idea and Sources of Esau's Speech, 23). 90 Jer 5:6; Zeph 3:3. 91 baz/lu/koß/!"# 92 cbk/aÓrh/n/$%& 93 rmn/pa¿rdaliß/'() 94 ydg/e¶rifoß/*+ 95 lgo/mosca¿rion/#,( 96 rypk/le÷wn/-.$/ 97 ayrm/tauvroß/nothing 98 hrp/bouvß/#,( 99 bd/a‡rkoß/01 100 hyra/le÷wn/-.$/ 101 rqb/bouvß/#,( 102 NTtp/aÓspi÷ß/nothing 103 ynwopx/aÓspi÷ß/2)3 (0) 104 baz/lu/koß/!"# 105 hlf/aÓrh/n/$%& 106 hyra/le÷wn/-.$/ 107 rqb/bouvß/#,( 90 The portrayal of shalom in these passages is so poignant precisely because it represents a dramatic reversal of typical social relations between creatures. It makes use of the same proverbial assumptions as our passage (the fundamental animosity between predator and prey) but for a different rhetorical effect. What is particularly interesting about these passages is the fact that they contain all three of the animosity pairs that emerge in Esau's speech: wolf and lamb, lion and livestock, and serpent and human. As in Esau's speech, the lion is not only presented as being at peace with livestock ("the calf and the lion and the fatling together"), but is presented as a domestic animal that takes on the behaviors of livestock ("the lion shall eat straw like the ox"). Notably, Jubilees uses the same rare word for the lamb that we find in Isa 65:25 (hlf).109 The term for serpent used by Jubilees (vjn) is also the same as Isa 65:25. Despite the similarities, however, there are differences between Esau's invocation of these animals and the Isaiah texts. For instance, there are creatures present in Isa 11:6-8 that are lacking in Esau's speech (leopard, bear, asp, and adder), and likewise creatures in Esau's speech that are missing in Isaiah (pigs, ravens, and pelicans). There are also readily observable differences in order, structure, and vocabulary for describing these creatures, their relationships, and their potential transformations. Esau's speech is clearly not a quotation of these Isaiah passages, but it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that our author is alluding to them, particularly Isa 65:25.110 108 vjn/o¡fiß/nothing Cf. 1 Sam 7:9 and Isa 40:11. 110 Jubilees exhibits interaction with Isa 65 and Third Isaiah in general in other passages, including the apocalypse in chapter 23. For connections between Jubilees and Third Isaiah see John C. Endres, Biblical Interpretation, 56-8; James M. Scott, On Earth as in Heaven: The Restoration of Sacred Time and Sacred Space in the Book of Jubilees (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 121-125, 138-139; and Todd R. Hanneken, The Subversion of the Apocalypses in the Book of Jubilees (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012), 166, 229-233. In discussing the potential connection 109 91 A similar pairing of wolves and sheep comes up in another second-century B.C. E. Jewish text. Sirach 13:15-19 reads: Every creature loves its like, and every person his neighbor; all living beings associate by species, and a man clings to one like himself. What fellowship has a wolf (baz) with a lamb (Cbk)? No more has a sinner with a godly man. What peace is there between a hyena (owbx) and a dog (blk)? And what peace between a rich man and a poor man? Wild asses (arp) in the wilderness are the prey of lions (yra); likewise the poor are pastures for the rich.111 Sirach emphasizes intra-species fidelity, which is analogous to the intra-class fidelity in the human world.112 He offers three examples of hostile pairs of animals which he compares to relationships between groups/classes within human society: wolf/lamb = sinner/godly man; hyena/dog = rich man/poor man; and wild asses/lions = poor/rich (Cf. Ps 10:9). This is a particularly significant parallel for us, since (1) it is a Palestinian Hebrew text from roughly the same time period as Jubilees, and (2) it uses one of our pairs (wolf/lamb) and one of our other between Isa 65:25 and Jub. 23:29 Hanneken notes: "We cannot be too confident that the audience would have made the comparison, but if they did, the implied differences are as striking as the similarities. Here the variations are not linguistic twists but implications at the level of ideas. First, if the wolf is read to represent a foreigner and the lamb an ethnic Jew (as in the Animal Apocalypse), then Third Isaiah says they will co-exist in Jerusalem, whereas Jubilees says God will remove foreigners from the land of Israel (Jub. 23:30)" (232). This is a fascinating observation, given the fact that Esau's speech similarly subverts the peaceable kingdom vision of Isa 65:25 by emphasizing the eternal incompatibility of these creatures rather than envisioning their future reconciliation. One of the functions of Esau's speech may be a rejection of the idea that there can ever really be peace between Israel and the nations, even those nations that share a common descent from Abraham. This is not due to Israel being xenophobic or misanthropic — it is because the wolves and lions of the world refuse to lie down with the lambs and oxen. 111 Livneh also notes the parallels between our text and this passage from Sirach ("Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 91-92). 112 Skehan and Di Lella point to examples of the theme "like loves like" in other languages and cultures. Patrick W. Skehan and Alexander A. Di Lella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira: A New Translation with Notes. (New York: Doubleday, 1987), 254. 92 animals (lions) to communicate the fundamental incompatibility of two groups. 113 It should be noted, however, that while there are similar images and a similar function, the form is different. We have here rhetorical questions, rather than conditional statements. Also, the lists of animals and most of the animal pairings are different from our text. While Esau's speech has arguably been directly influenced by Isaiah 65:25, it is unclear whether a genetic relationship exists between Sirach 13:15-19 and the Jubilees text. Our brief discussion of the animal imagery used by Esau has shown that our author exhibits both continuity and discontinuity with the Hebrew Bible and extant contemporary Jewish literature. Each animal mentioned does make an appearance in the Hebrew Bible, and in the case of the three animosity pairings (human/snake, lion/oxen, wolf/lamb) there are significant parallels in both Isaiah and Sirach. However, when it comes to the physical transformation pairings (pig/ram and flock; raven and pelican) precedents in the Hebrew Bible are somewhat lacking and only some elements of the imagery have parallels in contemporary Jewish literature. The pig's hypothetical skin transformation may be rooted in an allusion to Jeremiah 13:23 and might be based on a popular proverb or an earlier form of Syriac Ahiqar, but the horn transformation is without precedent. Apart from a single verse (Song 5:11) the Hebrew Bible does not identify the raven's colour. The blackness of the raven does gain stronger emphasis in Jewish/Christian literature in the Greco-Roman period, and there are notable parallels in Ahiqar and Rabbinic literature. The whiteness of the pelican is missing from the tradition, although its inclusion in 113 Note that the word used for "lamb" is cbk, which parallels Isa 11:6-8 but contrasts with the hlf of Isa 65:25 and Jub. 37:21. 93 Esau's speech is likely based on the pairing of the bird with ravens in some biblical texts. In our next chapter we will further parallels in the Greek tradition. Separated Breasts Esau's four conditional statements are interrupted by a somewhat odd remark following the pig statement: "The breasts have been separated from their mother, for you have not been a brother to me" (v. 20). In the Ethiopic of VanderKam's edition it reads: !"#$ %&'( )*)+, )-. /0,12 )34 5 VanderKam and Milik's proposed Hebrew 114 original reads: yl ]|ja htyh a»w[l yk Nmam MydC wdrpn. There are two issues here. First is the location of this statement, and second is its meaning. In its current context it seems to be an interruption of the flow of the four conditional statements. Indeed, Charles considered it to have been displaced, "for the tristichs before and after deal with ideas taken only from the animal world. Nor do the words as they stand form a distich. If they belong to the text at all, they are corrupt. It is not improbable that originally they followed immediately after ver. 19a 'thou dost hate me and my children for ever.' By transposing the two clauses and by reading 'em'ama tafalta atbu'e 'em'emomu instead of wa'ema tafalta 'atbat 'em'emon, we should get the following sense in ver. 19 'And thou dost hate me and my children for ever; for thou hast not been a brother to me since the twins were separated from their mother. Yea, there is no observing the tie of brotherhood with thee.'"115 However, the Hebrew seems to have a similar line in the same place as the Ethiopic. If it is displaced, it happened at some point in the Hebrew manuscript tradition.116 The meaning is difficult to determine. We are not helped by the fact that the statement is lacking in the Syriac and only partially preserved in the Hebrew. Regardless of how we construe the text, Kugel rightly notes that Esau is alluding to the oracle Rebekah received regarding the futures of a fetal Jacob and Esau in Gen 25:23: "And the LORD said to her, 'Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples, born of you, shall be divided (…wdérDÚpˆy); the one shall be stronger than the other, the elder shall serve the younger.'"117 Charles 114 VanderKam and Milik, "223-224. 4QpapJubh," 118. 115 R.H. Charles, The Book of Jubilees or The Little Genesis: Translated from the Editor’s Ethiopic Text and Edited, with Introduction, Notes, and Indices (London: Adam & Charles Black, 1902), 218. 116 Livneh believes that if this statement is original, it was displaced in the Hebrew manuscript tradition ("Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 83-84). 117 Kugel, A Walk Through Jubilees, 178. 94 suggested that we emend the text to !"#$ %&'% #()* !"!+,, "for thou hast not been a brother to me since the twins were separated from their mother." Kugel considers this favorably, but offers this possible reconstruction of the Hebrew instead: wnma ydvm wndrpn zam, "since we were separated at our mother's breasts."118 Although Kugel does not note it, there is some support for this kind of reading in the Ethiopic manuscript tradition. VanderKam's MS 44 (Collegeville, EMML 1945, mid 18th c. 55a-133a) reads: !-$ %&./0 !" #/1% !"0 , "Because/since we have been separated from the breasts of our mother . . ." While VanderKam claims that this "idiosyncratic" manuscript does contain some valuable readings,119 he ultimately dismisses "the various words that precede %&'2 in the mss." because they "are found only in later copies and are unlikely to be original."120 He does not, however, comment on the potential originality of the other variants in 44. The lateness of the ms. and the uniqueness and ease of this reading can certainly weigh against its originality. 121 However, it would make much more sense than other readings, and would fit well in the Qumran manuscript. It also aligns quite well with Kugel's proposal. The evidence, however, urges us to hold any conclusions we come to on this passage lightly. If such a reading is original, then Esau is saying that since an early time (weaning) Jacob has not been a brother to him.122 The Speech's Conclusion In his speech Esau has thoroughly rejected the possibility of peace with Jacob. After his final curse in v.23 ("May you be cut off and your children be cut off. There will be no peace for you") our narrator makes Jacob the focalizer. Jacob sees that Esau has brought forth evil from within his entire being and that he desires to kill him. The animal imagery now emerges outside of Esau's speech, as Jacob sees that Esau's behavior is like a boar that impales himself on a spear and does not turn back (v.24) — Esau's aggression towards Jacob is an act of suicide. Recognizing the impossibility of rapprochement with his brother, Jacob orders his sons and 118 Ibid. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, xxii. 120 Vanderkam, The Book of Jubilees, ad loc. 121 This reading is not found in the two additional manuscripts we collated above. 119 95 servants to respond with force. Jubilees is careful to show that Esau is the aggressor, that repentance for him is impossible, and that Jacob is ultimately acting in self-defense. The Resolution Jacob's command is not immediately obeyed by his children. His son Judah hesitates, expressing his unwillingness to kill his uncle, since "he is near to [Jacob] and . . . equal to [him] in honor" (38:1; VanderKam). Judah expresses the filial piety that Esau's sons are so sorely lacking. Jacob accedes to Judah's request, and makes the opening shots of the battle:123 Jacob then stretched his bow, shot an arrow, pierced his brother Esau [on the right breast], and struck him down. He shot another arrow and hit Aduran the Aramean on his left breast; he drove him back and killed him (38:2-3).124 With that brief notice, Esau dies. Jubilees 38:4-14 narrates the remainder of the battle, which involves the sons of Jacob and squads of fifty slaughtering their adversaries on all four sides of the tower. Judah, Naphtali, and Gad, take fifty men to the south; Levi, Dan, and Asher go with fifty to the east where they kill the Moabites and Ammonites; Reuben, Isaachar, and Zebulun 122 Note that removal from breasts is spoken of in Isa 28:9 (Mˆyá!dDÚvIm yäéqyI;tAo) as an expression for weaning. 123 Contra M.W. which has Esau shooting arrows at Jacob and his sons first (37.3). 124 T. Jud. reads: "And [Esau] fell by the bow of Jacob and was taken up dead on Mount Seir; and as he went he died above Eiramna" (9.3). Hollander and de Jonge note the contradictory accounts in this verse and attribute it to two different traditions (The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Commentary, 199). M.W. reads: ". . . [Jacob] bent the bow, and killed Adoram the Edomite. And again he drew his bow, and hit Esau in the right shoulder (? or loin ?). Then Esau became ill from the arrow, and his sons took him up and carried him on a mule, and he went and died in Arudin. Others say he did not die there" (37.4-5). The location of Esau's wound in M.W. is a difficult question. translation from Hollander and de Jonge's volume reads "right shoulder" with "loin" parenthetically raised as another option. The Hebrew here reads: tynmy askb, literally "in the right chair/seat." Himmelfarb ("Midrash Vayissa'u," 157) translates this phrase as "right buttock," noting that she finds no other examples of this this anatomical use of ask. 96 take fifty to the north to kill the Philistines; and Simeon, Benjamin, and Reuben's son Enoch lead fifty to the west (38:5-8). The victory of the Israelites is quite remarkable, since their opposition numbered over four thousand soldiers. Jacob's sons defeated a force approximately five times their size. Six hundred of the Edomites/Horites escape, including Esau's four sons. They continue to show their filial impiety by leaving their father's corpse behind, which Jacob then buries (38:8-9).125 The Israelites pursue the Edomite foe to Mt. Seir, where they force their surrender. Jacob chooses to make peace and subjugate them to eternal tribute, rather than annihilate them (38:11-13).126 Jubilees tells us that this arrangement continues down to its own day (38:14).127 Characterization In the previous chapter we gave attention to what Achilles' speech and surrounding events revealed about his character. We now ask similar questions about Esau's speech, focusing on the implications of his animal imagery and what his identity as an oath-breaker means within the context of Jubilees. 125 T. Jud. does not tell us about Esau's burial. According to M.W.: "The sons of Jacob pursued them [presumably the four sons of Esau and the six hundred valiant men just mentioned] up to the city Arudin. There in Arudin they left to their father the body of Esau lying on the ground, and they ran away to Mount Seir, to the place leading up to Aqrabim. The sons of Jacob entered and encamped there over night. Finding there the body of Esau, they buried him out of respect for their father (Jacob). Some say he did not die there, but left Arudin, though ill, and fled with his children to Mount Seir" (37.14). 126 Cf. T. Jud. 9.4-8 and M.W. 37.6-14 for comparable accounts of the combat following Esau’s death. 127 This statement seems to betray the narrative setting of the book. The angel is supposed to be narrating at Sinai before the people of Israel have returned to the land to start receiving tribute again. 97 Animals In our discussion of Achilles the question was raised whether or not he was trying to identify himself with specific animals in his similes (lion, wolf). A similar question can be raised here. Is Esau being equated with the serpent, the predators in the second and third statements (wolves and lions) and the unchanging animals in the first and fourth statements (pigs and ravens)? If the deception of the snake is in view, then Esau's oath-breaking behavior can be identified with the serpent.128 His behavior also certainly seems like that of a ravening wolf or lion, as he tries to prey on Jacob and his sons. 129 His descriptions of the lion and the wolf both focus on the cessation of the predators' aggression towards their prey and are followed in the apodoses by the impossibility of Esau treating Jacob benevolently. This seems to suggest some level of identification between Esau and the lion/wolf. It is also likely that he is being identified with the pig and the raven, since the unchangeable nature of these animals is analogous to the unrepentant nature of Esau.130 Esau is certainly identified with swine outside of his speech, as his behavior is compared to an aggressive boar in Jub. 37:24. It is interesting that most of the conditional statements identify Esau with an unclean and/or wild animal that is being contrasted with clean, domestic animals. The uncleanness of the swine is well known, and the Jewish aversion to pork was a matter of discussion in the broader Greco-Roman world.131 The pig is contrasted with the ram and the flock, which are clean, domestic animals. Lions and wolves are technically unclean (Lev 11:27), although the Hebrew Bible does not emphasize their uncleanness in the same way it does with the pig.132 More important, perhaps, is 128 See the note above on Charlesworth's argument. "Esau should perhaps be associated with the 'hurting and destroying' snake and Jacob with the human race." Livneh, "Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 81 n.20. 129 Recall that Sirach portrayed the rich who prey on the poor as both lions and wolves. 130 There is also other Jewish evidence for an identification between Esau and swine, which we will take a closer look at below. 131 Peter Schäfer, Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient World (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997), 66-81. 132 Note that it also has no problem identifying Israelite figures with wolves and lions (Gen 49:9, 27). 98 the role of lions and wolves as predators of domestic creatures. The raven is also an unclean animal that is associated with urban desolation (Lev 11:15; Deut 14:14; Isa 34:11), although it is paired with the pelican, another unclean bird that is also associated with urban desolation (Lev 11:18; Deut 14:17; Isa 34:11), which makes the contrast less stark.133 We can similarly ask whether Jacob and his sons are being identified with the other creatures in Esau's statements. In the middle conditional statements (lion/oxen and wolf/lambs) this is likely the case. Jacob and his sons are the prey; Esau and his sons are the predators.134 In the first and fourth conditional statements an identification with Jacob is less clear, since these statements do not mirror the social relationship between Jacob and Esau in the same way the middle statements do. Logically it may not make as much sense that Esau would be presented as a creature that cannot transform into the kind of creature that represents Jacob.135 The potential identification of Jacob and the pelican might also be somewhat odd, considering the unclean nature of this bird. That said, the Animal Apocalypse does depict certain Israelite heroes as rams (and thus horned) and consistently portrays the righteous as white animals (specifically sheep and bulls) as opposed to red or black animals, thus providing potential parallels of Israelites being figuratively described with the specific physical characteristics in view in Esau's first and fourth statements.136 We see from all of this that Esau's words contrast him with his brother and depict himself as a deceptive predator who is incapable of change. He is a snake who will not keep his word. He is an 133 Livneh, "Can the Boar Change Its Hide?", 88-89. We will see below that the identification of Israel with domestic animals who are the prey of outsiders identified with unclean predators is paralleled in other Jewish texts. 135 Although there is a sense in Rebekah and Isaac’s earlier conversation that Esau is just not capable of becoming the kind of good son that Jacob is (35:9-17). The Animal Apocalypse does admit the possibility of the nations undergoing a positive transformation from unclean wild beasts into the primeval white cattle as part of its eschatological vision (90:38), but Jubilees is not so optimistic about Esau. 136 Jacob, David, Solomon, and Judas Maccabeus are the only Israelites that are called rams, as opposed to sheep (Patrick Tiller, A Commentary on the Animal Apocalypse of 1 Enoch [Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1993], 306). Regarding colors, Cain is black, Abel is red, and Seth is white (85:38), and Jacob is white while Esau is black (89:12). 134 99 unclean, wild figure who exists outside the realm of domesticity and human civilization.137 He is a predator who is interested in devouring others — even his own brother — rather than seeking peace. What is particularly fascinating is that this negative image of Esau emerges through his own words. While he is trying to lay the blame on Jacob and his sons for the conflict, he is inadvertently casting himself in a negative light. The narrator has used Esau's own words to condemn him. It is worth noting that this identification of Israel's enemies with unclean and wild/predatory animals and the righteous/Israel with clean domestic creatures (cattle and sheep) is also seen throughout the Animal Apocalypse.138 David Bryan has argued that the portrayal of Israel's enemies as unclean animals in the work is both intentional and meaningful.139 An allegorical retelling of world history, this brief apocalypse tells us that before the flood all human beings were cattle, with their righteousness differentiated by their colour. After the flood, however, humanity is divided into various wild and unclean species (89:10). It is interesting that each of the animals Esau is identified with also appears in the allegory. The lions represent the Babylonians, the wolves the Egyptians, and the ravens the Seleucids. 140 Swine actually represent Esau and his descendants (89:12). This indicates that Jubilees may have either been influenced by this work in its construction of Esau's speech, or was at least tapping into some common traditions. The identification of Esau with swine in both Jubilees and the Animal Apocalypse calls for a special note. We have already seen that Esau is arguably identified with swine in his first conditional statement, and is definitely identified with swine in v.24 ("And then Jacob saw that he brought forth evil against him from his heart and from his entire soul in order to kill him. And he came bounding like a boar which comes upon a spear that pierces him and kills him and he does not turn back from it"). In the Animal Apocalypse the righteous line 137 Cf. The description of him in Jub. 19:13-15. We may have to exercise some caution in emphasizing the distinction between wild and domestic animals. Caubet points out that in SyroPalestinian art there is no major distinction made between wild and domestic bovids and caprids (Caubet, "Animals in Syro-Palestinian Art, 222). 138 On Israel's enemies, see for instance: 1 En. 89:42, 89:55, and 90:11. Swine, lions, wolves/hyenas, and ravens are all identified as enemies of Israel. It is possible that the author of Jubilees was aware of and used the Animal Apocalypse (Jub 4:19//1 En. 85:1). See the discussion in Livneh, "Can the Boar Change Its Hide?", 92-93. 139 David Bryan, Cosmos, Chaos and the Kosher Mentality (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995). 140 Olson, New Reading, 129. 100 continues to be identified as (white) cattle until the generation of Jacob and Esau. The white bull Isaac then becomes the father of a white ram (Jacob) and a black boar (Esau) (89:12). The colour and species of Esau serve to distance him from the ancient line of the faithful and the inheritors of the covenant.141 Within the Animal Apocalypse there is some level of permanence in the use of animal symbols to portray Israel's neighbors, such as asses being used fairly consistently to represent Ishmael and his descendants, bears/hyenas142 being equated with Egypt, and Philistines being equated with dogs. This holds true for Esau as well, since his descendants, the Edomites and Amalekites, are identified throughout as boars. 143 The boars, along with the other wild animals, ravage Israel.144 The identification of Esau/Edom with a swine/boar continues to appear in Jewish literature of the Roman period, along with the additional identification of Esau/Edom with Rome.145 The reference in Psalm 80:13 to the boar ravaging Israel is interpreted as referencing Edom/Rome. Feldman notes that the Roman standard had a boar as an emblem, and implies that this is the source of the Rabbinic identification of Rome with the boar in Ps 80:13.146 However, since the identification of Esau with the boar seems to precede the Roman period, we must wonder if (1) the identification of Rome with the Psalmist's wild boar is a natural result of the Rome/Edom connection, or (2) the identification of Rome and Esau/Edom in the first place was the result of Esau/Edom's symbolic connection with the boar and the presence of the boar on Roman standards. 141 "This color contrast — reminiscent of the contrast between Cainites and Sethites — reflects the bitter rivalry between Israel and Edom. Obviously pejorative is also the depiction of Esau as a wild boar — the swine being notorious as an unclean animal (Lev 11:7; Deut 14:8)." George W.E. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1-36; 81-108, (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), 377. 142 See Tiller’s discussion in Animal Apocalypse, 28-36 for the question of bears versus hyenas. 143 1 En. 89:42-43, 49, 66. 144 Ibid. 145 Gen. Rab. 65.1, cited and quoted in Brin, "The Idea and Sources of Esau's Speech," 23. For a discussion of the Edom/Rome association see Louis H. Feldman, Remember Amalek! Vengeance, Zealotry, and Group Destruction in the Bible According to Philo, Pseudo-Philo, and Josephus, (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 2004), 62-67. 146 It was a specific legion that had the boar as one of its emblems: Legio X Fretensis. This legion was stationed in Aeilia Capitolina following the Bar Kokhba revolt, and we occasionally see the boar on the reverse of coins minted for Aeilia Capitolina, as figures 2 and 3 show. 101 Figure 2. Meshorer, Aelia 30.147 Figure 3. Meshorer, Aelia 169.148 Oaths While Esau's identification with various animals is important, the most noteworthy element of characterization in his encounter with Jacob is his decision to flagrantly violate the oaths he swore to his parents. Esau is an intentional oath-breaker who calls into question the efficacy of 147 This coin was struck for Aelia Capitolina (Roman Jerusalem) between 138-161 C.E. The reverse portrays a boar, one of the symbols of Legio X Fretensis. Used with permission: Classical Numismatics Group; cngcoins.com 148 From Aelia Capitolina, 249-251 C.E. Reverse displays boar under eagle. Used with permission: Classical Numismatics Group; cngcoins.com 102 the practice, and ultimately suffers the consequences for his unfaithfulness and impiety. This portrayal of Esau is not an isolated incident, but is a particularly poignant example of a theme that runs throughout Jubilees.149 For the author of Jubilees the faithful observance of an oathbound covenant is one of the most basic markers of righteousness, and the violation or misuse of the oath is likewise a basic marker of wickedness and a precipitant of both individual and tribal/national destruction whether in the present or through a future judgment.150 Jubilees emphasizes the oath as an integral element of the Noahic and Mosaic covenants, 151 which are made with all of humanity and the people of Israel respectively. This means that oathkeeping and covenant faithfulness are closely related in the book. By portraying Esau as a flagrant oath-breaker who calls into question the very institution of oath-making itself, our author is not only demonizing him, but emphasizing the place of Esau outside of God's covenant people. Esau not only proves himself incapable of filial devotion, but also shows that he is incapable of being faithful to oath and covenant and is therefore fit only for uprooting/destruction.152 His forgetfulness of his oath demonstrates the kind of covenant forgetfulness that YHWH warns his 149 Jub. 6:10-12; 9:14-15; 10:28-34; 13:29; 18:15; 23:21; 24:5, 10, 24-26; 29:7-8; 46:5-6a. Note the promises of destruction in 6:12 and 10:30-32. False/broken oaths are a marker of righteousness/wickedness in the Hebrew Bible as well (Lev 19:12). Cf. discussion of false oaths in Livneh, "Can the Boar Change Its Skin?," 78-79. Livneh points to texts like Lev 5:20-26; Zech 8:17; Jer 5:2; Zech 5:3-4; Ps 24:4; and Jer 7:9. 151 Jub. 6:10-12. 152 Isaac said as much to Rebekah: ". . . [Esau] lacks (the ability to do) what is right. For the entire way he acts is (characterized by) injustice and violence and there is no justice about him . . . Neither he nor his descendants are to be saved because they will be destroyed from the earth and be uprooted from beneath the sky" (Jub.35:13-14). 150 103 people against,153 and puts him in the company of biblical villains like land-robbing Canaan or the Gentile nations that disregard the primeval oath not to eat blood. In summary, Esau's actions and speech are not very flattering. The author of Jubilees has characterized Isaac's eldest son as an unclean and wild figure who flagrantly disregards filial devotion and the sacred institution of the oath. If there was ever any doubt that the promise and the covenant passed to the right child of Isaac, Esau's final moments put that doubt to rest. 153 Deut 4:23. 104 CHAPTER FOUR COMPARISON We have already made some passing remarks on the similarities and differences between Jubilees and the Iliad. We now turn to a more thorough comparative analysis of the two texts. The comparison and contrast of two texts without regard for historical or genetic relationship is a worthwhile endeavor in its own right. The very act of reading and comprehension always involves comparison and contrast, as new data becomes meaningful and intelligible to us based on its similarities to and differences from our existing knowledge and experience. For the historian, non-genetic comparative work can lead to fresh and deeper perspectives on a text, raising questions that might not otherwise have been asked and fueling one's historical imagination.1 It is our hope that the comparison below offers this kind of value in the study of both the Iliad and Jubilees. As we will claim in the following chapter, a non-genetic comparison of our two texts is 1 Jonathan Z. Smith argues for the importance of comparative work that is not consumed by questions of genealogy, or homology, but rather focuses on analogy. The act of comparison is to be understood as something that occurs within the mind of the scholar for a specific theoretical purpose: ". . . the enterprise of comparison, in its strongest form, brings differences together solely within the space of the scholar's mind. It is in the individual scholar, for his or her own good theoretical reasons, who imagines their cohabitation, without even requiring that they be consenting adults — not processes of history, influence, or diffusion which, all too often, have been held to be both the justification for and the result of comparison." Jonathan Z. Smith, Drudgery Divine: On the Comparison of Early Christianities and the Religions of Late Antiquity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990), 115. He argues that the privileging of genetic comparative work in the study of early Christianity has been driven by Protestant apologetic motives. Genetic relationships between earliest Christianity and "pagan" religions are seen as a threat to a vision of pristine Christian beginnings, and thus are granted a high level of importance, if only to deny that they exist. Analogies — similarities that are not instances of influence or borrowing — are not as threatening, and are less significant (see especially 48-49). Though apologetic interests have certainly played a role in the privileging of genealogy, this is also likely due to the nature of the historical enterprise, which is largely focused on issues of cause and effect and thus tends to organize historical data not only chronologically but causally as well. 105 just as significant as, and from a certain perspective even more significant than a genetic comparison for our the argument that Jubilees needs to be read within the context of the broader Hellenistic world. However, though we recognize the value of such non-genetic comparative work, we believe the evidence points towards the existence of a genetic relationship between Homer's Iliad and the Book of Jubilees, and we will attempt to make that argument throughout the following comparison. Such arguments can take us into dangerous and disputatious academic waters, particularly when they involve the influence of a Greek text on a Palestinian Jewish text, as the level and nature of Greek influence in Palestine continues to be debated.2 On the one hand there is the risk of setting the evidentiary bar so high that we lose our ability to detect subtle (and sometimes notso-subtle) allusions. Along with this there is the danger of prematurely rejecting the possibility of influence because of our preconceptions about the relationship between Jewish writers and the non-Jewish Greek literary and cultural tradition. Such preconceptions can be particularly troubling because they are self-fulfilling: literary evidence that could challenge them is dismissed out of hand since it is seen as improbable. On the other hand, there is the danger of being overzealous in the analysis of similarities between texts in the hopes of forging genetic 2 For works that argue for a good deal of Hellenistic influence in Palestine see Martin Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism: Studies in Their Encounter in Palestine During the Early Hellenistic Period (trans. John Bowden; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974); John J. Collins and Gregory E. Sterling, Hellenism in the Land of Israel (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2001). For criticisms of these works see Louis Feldman's various articles: "Hengel's Judaism and Hellenism in Retrospect," JBL 96 (1977): 371-82; "How Much Hellenism in Jewish Palestine?," HUCA 57 (1986): 83-111; "How Much Hellenism in the Land of Israel?," in Judaism and Hellenism Reconsidered (Leiden: Brill, 2006): 71-101. Lester L. Grabbe also provides a useful summary and evaluation of major criticisms of Hengel's work: Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian; Volume One: The Persian and Greek Periods (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992), 150-153. 106 connections that simply are not there. In a rush to prove influence, readers can overlook the serious differences between texts and give inadequate attention to other explanations for the similarities. This is a phenomenon that Sandmel popularized as "parallelomania," which he defined as "that extravagance among scholars which first overdoes the supposed similarity in passages and then proceeds to describe source and derivation as if implying literary connection flowing in an inevitable or predetermined direction."3 Like any other argument, the question should ultimately come down to methods and evidence. In the absence of an explicit citation how does one determine whether or not there is a genetic relationship between two texts? What criteria can we use to determine the plausibility and probability of influence? In his work on mimesis in early Christian literature Dennis MacDonald has developed six criteria to help us determine whether or not an author is dependent on and intentionally reworking an earlier text, and we will employ these criteria in our comparison. These criteria are: 1. Accessibility. Is it likely that the proposed source text was available to the author? 2. Analogy. Did other authors also make use of the source text? 3. Density. Are there enough parallels to make influence likely (a question of quantity)? Are these parallels significant (a question of quality)? 4. Order. Do the alleged parallels between the texts follow a similar order? 5. Distinctive traits. Are there unusual or distinctive words, phrases, or other elements that appear in both texts? 6. Interpretability. Does the hypertext's alleged use of the hypotext make sense? Is 3 Samuel Sandmel, "Parallelomania," JBL 81 (1962), 1. This is the published text of Sandmel's SBL presidential address. He notes that he did not coin the term, but encountered it in a French publication he cannot recall. 107 there an understandable purpose for the author's particular use and transformation of an earlier text?4 We will touch on each of these criteria below, although not in order. We begin with a comparison of our two target texts, which will demonstrate density, order, and distinctive traits. We then discuss some points of comparison between the Jubilees passage and other texts/themes in the Iliad and the broader Greek tradition, which strengthens our case for Jubilees' interaction with Greek literature in general and the epic tradition in particular. Following this we make a case for accessibility, outlining some of the evidence for (1) the ubiquity of Homer's works in the Hellenistic world and (2) the influence of Homer's works in Palestine. Since our argument is not for the general influence of Homer but rather the influence of a particular passage from the Iliad, we will explore other examples of the quotation, use, and re-appropriation of Achilles' speech, thus demonstrating analogy. Finally, we will give attention to interpretability by exploring the meaning of Jubilees' use of the Iliad. These criteria are not intended to provide us with an objective checklist that we can use to conclusively prove Homeric influence on Jubilees. Instead, they are intended to function as guides that can help frame our investigation, providing us with useful questions that we can ask in our attempt to understand the relationship between two texts. It should be noted that MacDonald's specific application of the six criteria to his work on the New Testament has not always been well-received.5 We affirm the usefulness of 4 For a discussion of the criteria see Dennis R. MacDonald, The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark, 8-9; "Introduction," in Mimesis and Intertextuality in Antiquity and Christianity (ed. Dennis R. MacDonald; Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2001), 2-3; Does the New Testament Imitate Homer?: Four Cases from the Acts of the Apostles (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003), 2-7. For the use of these criteria by another scholar see Serge Frolov, "Homeric and Ancient Near Eastern Intertextuality in 1 Samuel 17," JBL 130 (2011): 451-471. Frolov uses 108 MacDonald's criteria as well as his very helpful work (to be interacted with later) on the role of Homer in the Greco-Roman world and patristic Christianity, as well as the importance of bringing a knowledge of Homer to the study of Jewish and Christian texts. However, we do want to distinguish the arguments we are making here from the arguments he makes in his work on the Gospel of Mark. There he makes fairly broad and aggressive claims about the influence of Homer on the earliest Gospel. In her critique of MacDonald, Margaret M. Mitchell affirms the need to explore the relationship between Homer and the New Testament, but argues for a smaller-scale approach: The excessive claims of MacDonald's book, and the problematics of his procedure nevertheless should not close off the important line of research into Homeric influence on the New Testament . . . But future studies on the gospels and acts should avoid the 'all or nothing at all' bargain MacDonald sets up . . . and instead of seeking grand schemes for whole compositions, investigate the possible influences of Homeric themes and characterizations on smaller narrative units about Jesus and the apostles, which were told and retold both before and after their literary casting . . .6 She continues to say that what is needed is "a study of how early Christian authors incorporated — sometimes integrating, sometimes merely juxtaposing — a range of cultural references, fragments, artifacts, and concepts into their writings . . ."7 The kind of analysis that Mitchell envisions for the New Testament is what we are attempting to carry out in our study. 8 these criteria to argue against the influence of Homer on 1 Sam 17 and to argue for the influence of different Ancient Near Eastern sources. 5 For useful evaluations and critiques of Dennis MacDonald's The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000), see Karl Olav Sandnes, "Imitatio Homeri? An Appraisal of Dennis R. MacDonald's 'Mimesis Criticism'" JBL 124 (2005): 715-732 and Margaret M. Mitchell, "Homer in the New Testament?" The Journal of Religion 83 (2003). 6 Margaret M. Mitchell, “Homer in the New Testament?”, 255. 7 Margaret M. Mitchell, “Homer in the New Testament?”, 256. 8 Another key point of difference between our analysis and MacDonald’s work is that we are giving attention to both the Jewish and classical backgrounds of Esau’s speech, exploring the 109 Literary Context In our earlier discussions we placed both speeches in their broader literary context. While it is certainly possible that Jubilees could have used elements from Achilles' speech in an entirely different context, this does not seem to be the case. While they are not identical, the settings of both speeches are similar, since in both texts we see a one-on-one conversation between two arch-enemies in the midst of a siege against a city. Like Achilles, Esau is the one laying siege to the city, and Jacob — like Hector — is defending. In both cases the attacking army is significantly larger than the defending army. 9 Beyond all of this, there is a parallel transformation in the hearts of Achilles and Esau before they seek out their prey. Remember that throughout most of the Iliad Achilles is absent from battle, having withdrawn from the Achaian army because Agamemnon dishonoured him. In Book IX the Achaians try to rectify this situation and bring Achilles back to the fight, but they are faced with a disillusioned hero who has no interest in returning to combat. It ultimately takes the death of Achilles' beloved Patroclus to make him take up his spear again. Achilles' wrath towards Agamemnon over dishonour transforms into a vengeful wrath towards the Trojans in general and Hector in particular, a wrath that leads him to the gates of Troy and to his one-on-one encounter with Hector. Interestingly, we also find a pattern of disengagement and reengagement in Jubilees' narration of the war of the Israelites and Edomites. As we saw earlier, Esau initially resists his sons' ways in which the author of Jubilees creatively integrated the Jewish and Greek traditions. MacDonald, on the other hand, does not always give adequate attention to these twin backgrounds of early Christian literature, as he focuses almost solely on Homeric parallels. 9 Jub. 37:14; 38:5-8; Il. 2.123-133. 110 planned offensive against Jacob. His "anger and wrath" (37:12) are directed towards his sons who are coercing him into battle. But then Esau undergoes a transformation: But afterwards he remembered all the bad things that were hidden in his mind against his brother Jacob, and he did not remember the oath that he had sworn to his father and mother not to aim at anything bad against his brother Jacob throughout his entire lifetime (37:13). Esau's speech shows that his wrath has been transformed and is now directed against his brother. We noted earlier that Kugel initially identified this abrupt transformation as a literary seam, and later attributed it to Jubilees' mixed characterization of Esau. However, within the context of our current argument we should entertain the idea that Esau's abrupt transformation is modeled on Achilles' similar transformation in the Iliad.10 This would not be unparalleled, as Alexander the Great engaged in a similar pattern of withdrawal and reengagement that was arguably modeled on Achilles' behaviour in the Iliad.11 10 Based on the parallel texts in Testament of Judah and Midrash Wayissa'u, the source behind Jubilees' account likely emphasized Esau's initiative and role in attacking Jacob. Placing the initiative on the sons and portraying Esau as initially resistant seems to be an invention on the part of Jubilees. Our author has intentionally created a scenario where Esau needs to undergo a transformation from unwilling participant to aggressor. Why? One reason is that it gives the opportunity to show the filial impiety of Esau's children. But the parallel with Achilles offers an additional explanation. 11 Carney points to three such occasions: (1) Alexander's killing of Cleitus (Plut. Alex. 50-52.4; Arr. 4.8.1-9.9; Curt. 8.1.19-2.13; Just. 12.6.1-18) ); (2) his army's refusal to cross the Hyphasis (Diod. 17.93.2-95.2; Just. 12.8.10-17; Plut. alex. 62; Curt. 9.2.1-3.19; Arr. 5.25.1-29.1; Strab. 15.1.27, 32) and (3) the army's disobedience at Opis (Arr. 7.8.1-12.4; Diod. 17.108.3, 109.1-3; Plut. Alex. 71.1-5; Just. 12.11.5-12.10; Curt. 10.2.8-4.2). Elizabeth Carney, "Artifice and Alexander History," in Alexander the Great in Fact and Fiction (ed. A.B. Bosworth and E.J. Baynham; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 200), 273-274. She argues that these accounts are based on historical events (273) and that Alexander's actions were modeled on those of Homer's Achilles (274-276). 111 While there are definite similarities in the literary context and setting, there are differences as well. First, the reasons for the siege and for Esau's wrath towards Jacob are different from the Trojan war and Achilles' vendetta. Esau and his children are motivated by their sense of injustice over Jacob receiving the birth right and the blessing. The Achaians are attempting to restore the honour of Menelaus by reclaiming Helen and are seeking the glory and spoils of war. Achilles ultimately engages Hector in order to avenge the death of Patroclus. Even though in both cases the attackers are reacting against a perceived wrong, the specific situations are different.12 Second, the make-up of the armies is different. Though both texts present a much larger attacking army, in the Iliad it is the defending Trojan army that is the more composite international force, whereas in Jubilees it is the attacking army that is made up of different nations.13 This, however, is a difference of reversal, which we will see at other points in our comparison as well. Third, in 12 Note, however, that the continuance of the war after the failed single-combat between Menelaus and Paris is the result of a broken oath (Il. 4.68-222). Additionally, both the Achaians and the Edomites are trying to reclaim something that they believe is rightfully theirs. 13 Jub. 37:9-10; Il. 2.130-132. It is interesting, however, that Jubilees identifies the Kittim as one of the mercenary nations that Esau's sons enlist (37:10; note, however, that some read !"#$ here as "Hittite." See VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, ad loc. The Kittim are descendants of Javan, a Japhethite (Gen 10:4), and were associated with the Greeks and the Romans (Dan 11:30) in early Jewish literature. Scott notes 6th century B.C.E. Hebrew inscriptions that identify the Kittim with the Greeks (Scott, Geography, 240 n.20). According to 1st Maccabees, Alexander the Great came from the "land of the Kittim" (1:1; see also 8:5). Jubilees may also connect this people with the Greeks. Kugel and VanderKam both suggest that the Kittim of Jub. 24:28-29 refers to the Greco-Macedonians (Kugel, Walk through Jubilees, 135; VanderKam, Textual and Historical Studies, 237 n.53). Eshel notes that the presence of Greek mercenaries in Israel beginning as early as the Bronze Age and the lack of Italian mercenaries suggest that Jubilees has Greeks rather than Romans in mind as the Kittim. Hanan Eshel, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Hasmonean State (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 164-165. VanderKam also claims that the Kittim in Jub. 37:10 refer either to the Greek mercenaries in the Seleucid army, or the Seleucids themselves (Textual Studies, 237). Thus, the presence of the Kittim among the multi-national mercenary force may be another similarity between our two texts: in both cases the city is being besieged by Greek forces. 112 the Iliad the encounter between Achilles and Hector occurs outside the city, while in Jubilees Esau is outside the city and Jacob remains in the tower. The Opening Plea In the two encounters it is the representative of the besieged people that begins the verbal exchange. Both Jacob and Hector make an appeal of sorts involving an oath to their aggressor, although Jacob's appeal comes in the form of a chastisement. One of the differences between the two texts is that Jacob is calling Esau to be faithful to an oath he has already sworn, whereas Hector is attempting to get Achilles to swear a new oath. Esau will become an oath-breaker, while Achilles will become one who rejects a proffered oath and then violates the dead. A second difference is that Jacob is attempting to avoid violence altogether, but Hector is committed to fatal combat and is merely making arrangements for the burial of the inevitable loser. Despite these differences, both Jacob and Hector initiate verbal contact, both are making appeals for pious behavior from their aggressor, and both are speaking positively about oaths. Literarily, both provide a set-up for the rage-filled speeches of their interlocutors. The Speech A comparative analysis of the speeches of Esau and Achilles is more complex. Here we find both startling similarities and points of contact, as well as clear differences and points of divergence. The overall thrust and purpose of both speeches is very similar: a refusal to respond to the appeal they have just heard, specifically a refusal to enter into (Achilles) or honour (Esau) an oath-bound agreement with their enemy. The tones are likewise quite similar, as both Esau 113 and Achilles' words are dripping with antagonism and the desire to see their opponent perish. Both men also use the same rhetorical mechanism in their refusals of any rapprochement: bestial adynata. In order to illustrate their point they invoke animal imagery that draws on proverbial knowledge of the natural world to vividly underline the impossibility of agreement or brotherhood/friendship of any kind. A bird's-eye-view of the passages thus reveals some strong similarities. But what do we find as we dig deeper into the details of the respective speeches? When we look at the specific forms that Esau and Achilles' respective uses of adynaton take we find one of our first differences. Achilles uses a double-vehicle simile ("just as . . ."), while Esau primarily uses a sequence of four conditional statements ("if . . . then . . ."). The rhetorical effect is ultimately the same, but different tools have been used to achieve it. That said, Esau's opening statement about the lack of oaths among/between humans and snakes could be read as a quasi-simile that is akin to what we find in Achilles' speech. While the verbal connectors are not quite as explicit ("just as . . . so . . ."), it is clear that Esau is bringing his claims about humans and serpents to bear on his situation with Jacob, just as Achilles brings the relationships between his animals to bear on his situation with Hector. Unlike his subsequent conditional statements, Esau's opening line negatively expresses a present reality ("there is not . . .") that is comparable to his relationship with Jacob, just as Achilles does in his simile. The use of animals is another place where we find both similarities and differences between the two speeches. We see both similarities and differences in the choice of creatures, the pairing of creatures, the forms in which these pairs are used, and the nature of the relationship within each pair. These tables help to visualize the comparison between creature images/pairs within Esau and Achilles' speeches: 114 Creatures Common to Jubilees and the Iliad Creatures Unique to Jubilees Humans Lion Wolf Lamb Snake Pig Ram Flock Ox Raven Pelican Common Pairs Wolf and lamb Incompatibility: Snakes and humans (?) Wolves and lambs Lions and oxen Physical dissimilarity: Pigs and ram/flock Ravens and pelicans Analogous: Snakes and humans (?) None Pairs Unique to Jubilees Humans and snakes Pigs & ram/flock Lions and oxen Ravens and pelicans Nature of Relationship within Pairs in Jubilees Creatures Unique to the Iliad Pairs Unique to the Iliad Humans and lions Nature of Relationship within Pairs in the Iliad Incompatibility: Humans and lions Wolves and lambs 115 We encounter common images between the two, but in slightly different forms. We also encounter common forms, but with slightly different images. We just mentioned that Jubilees primarily utilizes conditional statements to communicate the impossibility of peace with Jacob, while the Iliad uses similes. Despite this formal difference, it is interesting to note that of the four conditional statements Jubilees makes, two of them express the impossibility of peace by pairing two creatures that are proverbial enemies. Thus even though the form is different from the Iliad, the function of the pairing of creatures is the same. Both texts are bringing together creatures (wolves/lambs in both texts, lions/oxen in Jubilees, lions/humans in Iliad) that are natural enemies in order to illustrate the impossibility of an agreement between the two human parties. The specific creatures in one of these pairings (wolves/lambs) is identical, whereas the other contains agreement on one of the creatures (lions). The other creature from the lion pairing in the Iliad (humans) appears earlier in Esau's speech where it is paired with snakes. Jubilees of course diverges from the Iliad in its swine and raven statements, which envision a physical transformation of an animal so that it becomes like another animal, rather than a social transformation between animals. Achilles' speech has nothing comparable. The specific animals used in these statements are also absent from Achilles' speech (with the possible exception of the "flock"). The animals that are unique to Jubilees come almost entirely from the two statements that are most conceptually distant from Achilles' statements. When we compare the animals we see that Jubilees offers a different arrangement and a more elaborate text than the Iliad, but still bears some remarkable similarities in its choice and use of animal imagery. There are differences, however, which require an explanation. What do we make of these? First, we should expect that there will be differences. As MacDonald observes, 116 concealment is a key element in mimesis.14 An author can demonstrate their literary and rhetorical prowess by simultaneously drawing attention to and concealing their use of and dependence upon an earlier text. Another reason to conceal dependence on another text is to preserve the narrative fiction, as we mentioned in our discussion of Esau's speech in the previous chapter. Second, some of these differences can be explained through recourse to the Hebrew Bible. We noted above that Esau's speech has similarities to the peaceable kingdom visions in Isa 11:6-8 and 65:25, as well as the Cushite/leopard text in Jer 13:23. We believe that our author engaged in a creative synthesis of multiple traditions, drawing both from the well of Homeric epic and Hebrew scripture, something that we saw in Jub. 8-9 as well.15 The detachment of the Iliad's lion/human pairing in Esau's speech reflects an attempt to bring the specific animal pairings in line with the Isaiah texts, in which we encounter human/snake, lion/oxen, and wolves/sheep. 14 "Texts discussing rhetorical imitations frequently mention the practice of occulting or disguising one's reliance upon a model, for servile imitation could lead to charges of boorish pedantry and even of plagiarism. These disguises included altering the vocabulary, varying the order, length, and structure of sentences, improving the content, and generating a series of formal transformations" (The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark, 5). This raises an important methodological issue. If concealment is par for the mimetic course, then any scholar who wants to argue for influence or dependence between two texts can easily explain away the differences as the expected subtlety of the ancient author. How can one truly prove or refute such an argument? In order to avoid this danger we must focus on evaluating the strength of the similarities between two texts: are the points of contact compelling enough to make up for the differences? Additionally, we need to look for persuasive explanations for the specific shape of the differences. Can we provide good reasons why the author chose to conceal his or her dependence on an earlier text in the specific way s/he did? 15 "Although students usually imitated a single work, the experienced author borrowed from many, like the painter Zeuxis who, when commissioned to paint a portrait of Helen, assembled the most beautiful girls of a city and from their combined features composed a 'perfect image.' Such eclecticism also disguised reliance on the primary target of imitation. Skilled authors were bees that took the best nectar from many blossoms to produce textual honey. According to Seneca, such apian authors should 'blend those several flavours into one delicious compound that, 117 Conversely, we could see the formal differences between Esau's opening statement (humans/snakes) and the subsequent conditional statements as an attempt to incorporate elements from Achilles' speech into a text originally modeled on Isaiah. The use of conditional statements rather than a simile as well as the physical transformation pairings (pig/ram and flock, raven/pelican) may have been based on the Jeremiah passage. The source of the specific choice of the animals is possibly due to the influence of Enoch's Animal Apocalypse (or traditions the two texts shared) and a precursor to Syriac/Armenian Ahiqar or popular proverbs. We will also see below that the animal imagery has significant points of contact with the Greek tradition. An additional similarity to consider is the portrayal of the animals' subjective experiences. In the parallel passages from Isaiah and Jeremiah there is no mention of the feelings, thoughts, or perspectives of the animals. The focus is instead on their external, observable, physical and social characteristics. However, in Esau and Achilles' speeches we encounter animals that feel, intend, and even think. In Il. 22.263 Achilles tells us that the wolves and lambs do not have oJmo/frona qumo/n, but instead are thoroughly evil-minded (kaka\ frone/ousi) towards each other.16 Jubilees 37:21 speaks of the (im)possibility of wolves' "hearts" being "upon" the lambs to do good for them (!" #$%&'( )*+,'( -#./0). Both texts refer to the internal, subjective life of the wolf. We may see something similar in Jub. 37:18. If the "they" who seek out evil in v.18 include snakes, then Esau attributes intention to serpents. Additionally, the idea even though it betrays its origin, yet it nevertheless is clearly a different thing from that whence it came'" (MacDonald, The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark, 5-6). 16 Cf. Ready, Character, Narrator, and Simile, 65, on the anthropomorphizing of the wolf and lamb. 118 of seeking evil (!"#) parallels the evil-mindedness (kaka\ frone/ousi) of the wolves/lambs towards each other.17 Beyond the similarities in animal language and imagery, we also find similarities in both syntax and non-animal vocabulary. The syntax in Esau’s and Achilles' opening lines is virtually identical: wJß oujk e¶sti le/ousi kai\ ajndra/sin oºrkia pista/ hnm]|a»n howbC MyC|j[nlw Md]|ah ynbl ØNØya Ignoring the opening wJß, we see this pattern: negative particle + stated or implied copula + noun/dative of possession + conjunction + noun/dative of possession + noun + noun modifier. The Greek naturally uses the dative case whereas the Hebrew uses the lamed preposition, the Greek states the copula whereas it is implied in the Hebrew, and the noun modifier in the Greek is an adjective whereas in Hebrew we find a participle functioning adjectivally. Beyond these minor differences we are looking at something so similar that the Hebrew could have been a direct, literal translation from the Greek with different vocabulary for the two parties substituted. Perhaps one of the most important similarities between the two texts, and arguably the one that bears a lion's share of the evidentiary weight, is the common phrase faithful oath/faithful oaths. In both speeches the speaker expresses the impossibility of a faithful oath within the context of their opening pair of creatures. Achilles claims that "As between lions and men there are no oºrkia pista/ . . .", while Esau says "Neither the sons of men nor snakes have a 17 The reciprocal ajlllh/loisin parallels hlal hla. 119 hnm]|a»n howbC . . ."18 There seems to be a difference between the ways that this phrase is understood in each text, with Achilles meaning an oath/agreement that results in faithful relations between two parties, and Esau meaning an oath/agreement that the two parties keep forever.19 However, in both cases the speakers are referring to an oath in the context of potential civilized relations between two parties. Interestingly, this particular phrase occurs nowhere in the Hebrew Bible or elsewhere in Qumran literature, making it relatively unique.20 Indeed, in the Hebrew Bible hDo…wbVv rarely takes a modifier like this. The verb Nma in the nif'al participle form does occur fairly frequently and in nearly every case the Greek translators have chosen pisto/ß. Similarly, while oºrkion does not appear to be used in the LXX, the related term oºrkoß is frequently used to translate hDo…wbVv. 21 This establishes a strong translational equivalency between the two phrases. Given the rarity of this Hebrew phrase, its similarity in both form and meaning to the Greek phrase used by Achilles,22 the evidence for a Hebrew-Greek translational equivalence between the key words, and the similarity in the context of usage, it seems quite possible that this phrase in Jubilees 18 "Righteous oath" (!"# $%&) in the Ge'ez version. The Syriac has the plural "oaths" ()tM8wM). 19 See our earlier discussions on these phrases. ". . . the compound hnman howbC refers to the lasting fulfillment of a sworn obligation" (Livneh, "Can the Boar Change Its Skin?, 78). 20 Livneh explains this unique phrase as the antonym of the false oath in Zech 8:17 ("Can the Boar Change Its Skin?", 78-79). This is an interesting suggestion, but the Iliad provides a better explanation. 21 Gen 24:8; 26:3; Exod 22:10; Lev 5:4; Num 5:21; 30:3, 11, 14; Deut 7:8; Josh 2:17, 20. 22 The phrase is not as unique in the Greek tradition, and Achilles is not the only one to use the expression. But as we discussed above, the phrase is distinctively Homeric, and its appearance in a Jewish text that bears so many other similarities to Achilles’ speech strengthens the connection. 120 reflects influence from the Iliad. The single notable difference is that the Greek uses the plural, while the Hebrew uses the singular. A final similarity between the two speeches is the envisioning of destruction. Achilles states that there will be no forging of oaths until "one or the other shall have fallen, and glutted with his blood Ares, the warrior with tough shield of hide" (22.266-267). Esau places a final illwish/curse upon Jacob: "May you be cut off and your children be cut off. There will be no peace for you" (37:23b). Achilles' statement leaves open the possibility for either his or Hector's death, while Esau envisions only the possibility of Jacob's demise. Both men, however, emphasize the death and destruction of one of the parties. The Resolution What happens after the speeches of Achilles and Esau? In the Iliad combat immediately ensues, ultimately leading to the death of Hector by spear. Achilles' speech is the speech of the victor. In Jubilees combat also ensues, with Jacob ordering engagement with the enemy, personally killing Esau with an arrow. Esau's speech is the speech of the vanquished. Thus while both exchanges end in the violent death of one of the interlocutors at the hands of the other, the roles are reversed. This reversal may be intentional, something we will explore below. It is also important to note that while Achilles does not die in this particular combat, he does die soon afterwards: something which is foreshadowed in Hector's dying words. While the Iliad does not narrate Achilles' death, the broader Greek tradition offers some details, including the idea that Achilles was killed by an arrow. It would be inappropriate to place much evidentiary value on 121 this connection, but it is at least worth noting that according to tradition Esau and Achilles both died from a bow shot.23 A similar reversal is seen in the fate of the cities of Troy and Hebron. While it happens after the end of the Iliad, the besieged city of Troy is eventually destroyed by the Achaians. Hebron, however, remains, and the besieging forces are decimated and driven back until it is the Edomites who are under siege and forced to surrender. Perhaps one of the most important elements of the resolution to note is the burial of the defeated. We discussed Achilles' defilement of Hector at length in our section on his characterization above. We saw that the burial of the battle-dead was one of the most important themes in the Iliad, and that one was expected to fight for the body of his comrade. This sheds some interesting light on the fate of Esau's body in Jubilees. After the sons of Jacob decimate their attackers, Esau's four sons flee the battle with six hundred others. They do not, however, bring their father's body with them: "They left their slain father just as he had fallen on the hill that is in Aduram" (38:8). It is not Esau's sons that bury him, but Jacob, who performs the task while his sons pursue the retreating army to Mt. Seir. Jacob buries his brother on the hill where he fell.24 23 See the discussion of traditions surrounding Achilles' death in Jonathan Burgess, "Achilles' Heel: The Death of Achilles in Ancient Myth," Classical Antiquity 14 (1995): 217-244. 24 We saw in the previous chapter that M.W. contains a similar comment about Esau's body being abandoned, although there it was Jacob's sons who buried him out of respect for their father Jacob. This does not mean, however, that the Edomites' neglect of Esau's body belonged to the earlier source(s) upon which Jubilees and the parallel accounts rely. As we noted before, the dependence of Jubilees and M.W. on a common source or pool of tradition does not mean that M.W. is completely independent of Jubilees. Indeed, M.W. recognizes the existence of multiple traditions surrounding Esau's death (37.5, 15). Some of these traditions may ultimately have had their origins in Jubilees. 122 This is certainly a point of contrast between our Jubilees and Iliad passages. Rather than being a point of divergence, however, it is another example of reversal. In the Iliad the victor defiles the body of his foe, while in Jubilees the victor buries the body of his foe. Esau's sons continue to exhibit their filial impiety by not fighting for or concerning themselves with the body of their father, which certainly places them in contrast to the Homeric heroes who fight for the bodies of their fallen comrades. Jacob, on the other hand, gives to Esau the very thing that Hector had requested of Achilles: a proper burial. In this he becomes like Antigone, the tragic heroine who insisted on burying her dead brother even though he had participated in the siege against Thebes, and Teucer in Sophocles' Ajax who insists on burying his fallen brother even though he has fallen out of favour with the Achaian leadership. What emerges from comparing the resolutions of the two texts is a strong sense of difference through reversal. If Jubilees is drawing from Homer's well, the author is writing an alternative history of sorts, one in which the wrath-filled combatant is the one who dies, the body of the vanquished is shown honor rather than mutilated, and the defending city successfully repels its attackers.25 Characterization In our discussions of Achilles and Esau we asked questions about how their respective speeches contributed to their characterization. On this point we again find points of similarity and dissimilarity. One point of similarity is the identification of both figures with some of the 25 Note that other non-Greek peoples saw the Trojans as the protagonists and the Achaians as the antagonists. Virgil’s Aeneid is a particularly prominent example. 123 animals in their speeches. We have argued that Achilles identifies himself with the lion and the wolf, while Esau is arguably identified with the snake, pig, wolf, lion, and raven. While we urged some caution on the subject, we did see that a case could be made that Achilles' use of animal imagery identifies him as a character who has overstepped the bounds of civilized humanity. Esau, likewise, is portrayed as an animalistic character, and his identification with unclean animals places him outside the boundaries of the covenant people. In both cases the characters unintentionally condemn themselves with their own words. There is a point of difference in the portrayal of these two figures in relation to oaths. We argued that Achilles is not rejecting the institution of oaths entirely, but only oaths with Hector. Esau, on the other hand, is calling into question the very validity of oaths and covenants. More notable than Achilles' rejection of Hector's proffered oath are the specifics of the agreement he is rejecting: the return of the loser's looted corpse for proper burial. We again urged caution about hasty moral judgments, but saw that a case could be made that Achilles' vengeful treatment of Hector's corpse and obstinate initial refusal to ransom the body were a departure from his normal, more civilized pattern of behavior, and that in this departure he was transgressing the boundaries of acceptable heroic behavior. This is how Achilles' actions were received and interpreted by some ancient readers. Esau's specific actions are different, but he too is portrayed as one who violates the boundaries of acceptable behavior. Esau does not excessively defile the body of his foe (though we do not know what he would have done to Jacob had he succeeded in killing him), but instead flagrantly disregards sworn oaths and filial piety. Not only did he neglect to honor his parents, but he also tries to kill his own brother. In the process he violates not one, but two oaths sworn 124 in the presence of God and his parents. We saw that these are quite serious offenses within Jubilees, and that they mark Esau and his descendants as ones who are outside of the covenant community. Like one interpretation of Achilles, Esau has transgressed boundaries of pious and civilized human behaviour and condemned himself in the process. Additional Points of Contact with Homeric Epic and the Broader Greek Tradition Our study has focused on the comparison of a specific passage in the Iliad with a specific passage in Jubilees. To this point we have seen that there are a number of significant parallels between the speeches of Achilles and Esau in their literary settings, rhetorical purposes, use of adynata, animal imagery, the syntax of their opening statements, key vocabulary, and characterization. While Achilles' speech is one of the primary candidates for Greek influence on Jubilees' account of the war with Edom, it is not the only one. There are a handful of other points of similarity between Esau's speech, the Iliad, and the broader Greek tradition. The similarities are interesting in their own right, but also have evidentiary value for our argument. If our Jubilees passage displays other signs of Greek and Homeric influence then it increases the probability of influence from Achilles' speech. Some of these similarities are found in the animal imagery in Esau's speech and the concluding comment in Jub. 37:24. We noted in the previous chapter that the physical characteristics Esau identifies for some of the animals in his first and fourth conditional statements do not have strong parallels in the Hebrew Bible or in contemporary Jewish literature. The texture of the pig's skin and its lack of a horn, and the colours of the raven and pelican are mentioned rarely or never. We did see that slightly later Jewish literature begins to emphasize the blackness of the raven, and 125 that Rabbinic literature invokes a colour transformation of the raven in an adynaton. Perhaps more importantly, we saw that there were striking parallels for the pig skin and raven colour transformations in Syriac and Armenian Ahiqar, perhaps indicating that Jubilees was drawing on common sayings that have also been preserved in these versions of Ahiqar or that the author was aware of a form of Ahiqar. It is thus possible that these elements of Esau's speech are completely independent of the Greek tradition. However, there are some interesting parallels that are worth noting. While the pig was considered an unclean animal in some parts of the Ancient Near Eastern world,26 it was held in greater esteem in the Greek tradition. The wild boar played a role in Greek myth, particularly in the tales of the Calydonian and Erymanthian boars, which were the ferocious victims of heroic hunts. What is particularly interesting are the physical features which are highlighted by the literary and visual evidence for these myths and for boars in general. We see at least four such traits: (1) the bristles of the boar, particularly on its crest;27 (2) the boar's tusks;28 (3) its red/burning eyes;29 (4) its foaming mouth.30 The first two are particularly relevant for us, since hair/bristles are explicitly highlighted in our text, and tusks — as a potential contrast to horns — may stand in the background. We can see these features in two descriptions of art portraying boar hunts by Philostratus the Elder and Philostratus the Younger respectively: 26 Joann Scurlock, “Animal Sacrifice in Ancient Mesopotamian Religion,” in A History of the Animal World in the Ancient Near East (ed. Billie Jean Collins; Leiden: Brill, 2002), 393. 27 Il. 9.548 references the Calydonian boar's "hairy skin" (de/rmati lacnh/enti). Ps.Apollodorus' Bibliotheca 1.66 identifies the boar's skin as the prize for the hunt. Seneca, Medea 643; Seneca, Hercules Furens 228; Statius, Thebaid 2.469. 28 Statius, Thebaid 2.469; Callimachus, Hymn 3 to Artemis 218. 29 Il. 13.471. 30 Quintus Smyrnaeus, Fall of Troy 6.220. 126 qauma/zeiß oJrw!n ejß tosouvton ajg w!na k/orhn o˚rmw!san, ajg ri/ou te ou"tw suo\ß kai\ tosou/tou o˚rmh\n u˚fistame/nhn; o˚raøvß ga/r, w˚ß u"faimon me\n aujtwø! to\ o¡mma lofia/ tw fri/ttousa kai« polu\ß o˚ kata\ tw!n ojdo/ntwn ajfro\ß ejß polu\ ajnesthko/twn kai« th\n aijcmh\n ajtri/ptwn, to/ te eu•roß, w˚ß pro\ß lo/gou thøv ba/sei, h¢n dh\ kai\ ta\ i¡c nh tauti\ dei/knusi tau/rwn ajpode/onta oujde/n. Are you surprised to see a girl [Atalanta] entering into so great a contest and withstanding the attack of so savage and so huge a boar? For you see how blood-shot is his eye, how his crest bristles, and how abundant is the foam that drips from his long upright tusks, which are unblunted at the point; and you see how the beast's bulk is proportional to his stride, which indeed is indicated by these tracks that are as large as those of a bull. (Philostratus the Younger, Imagines, 15.1)31 o˚rw! de« aujto\n kai« th\n cai/thn fri÷ttonta kai« puvr ejmbl\e/ponta, kai« oi˚ ojdonteß aujtwø! patagouvsin ejf# u˚mavß . . . I see the creature [the boar], its mane bristling, its eyes flashing fire, and it is gnashing its tusks at you . . . (Philostratus the Elder, Imagines, 1.28.13-15)32 Extant Greco-Roman art visually echoes the descriptions of the Philostratuses, as we can see from the select examples below:33 31 Fairbanks, LCL. Ibid. 33 In addition to pictured examples, consider also: Malibu 86.AE.154/Beazley 10149. This Siana cup dates to circa 580-570 B.C.E. Side A pictures the Calydonian boar hunt. The boar is quite large, and is shown with red eyes, large tusks, and prominent bristles/crest. Six spear-wielding men and three dogs are attempting to subdue it, illustrating the creature's formidability. Also, Boston 01.8110/Beazley 300334. This tripod kothon from circa 575-550 B.C.E. features scenes of animal and human combat. The sides feature humans wrestling and boxing, as well as lions facing each other. The top, pictured above, has several pairs of creatures facing each other in combat, including a lion and a boar. The boar is smaller than the lion. The tusks are present, though not too prominent, and the bristles/crest run along the entire back of the creature. 32 127 34 Figure 4. Florence 4209/Beazley 300000 . Photo Credit: Scala/Art Resource, NY. Used with permission. This sixth-century B.C. E. krater from Erutria features the Calydonian boar hunt. The number of people and dogs required to subdue the boar illustrate its strength as an opponent. The bristles/crest are emphasized. Particularly relevant for our discussion below is the fact that the boar is going headfirst into the spear. 34 http://www.beazley.ox.ac.uk/record/35ACBA5B-7FF1-4572-BA34-6AC260F62A33 128 Figure 5. Capitoline Museums, Rome. Inv. scu 00917. Photograph © Vanni Archive/Art Resource, NY. Used with permission. This sarcophagus relief (ca. 201-250 C.E.) portrays the Calydonian boar hunt. The boar not only has the characteristic crest, but is bristled throughout his body. Modest sized tusks are also portrayed. Particularly interesting for our discussion below is the boar facing the hunter's spear head-on. 129 Figure 6. Berlin F 2538. Photo Credit: Berlin/Staatliche Museen/Johannes Laurentius/Art Resource, NY. Used with permission. Side A of this vase from Etruria (ca. 430 B.C.E.) shows the Calydonian boar hunt. No hounds are present. One man holds a spear. The boar's crest cannot be seen due to damage, but some hair marks can be seen around its head. Figure 7. HN Italy 642. Photograph © Classical Numismatics Group; cngcoins.com. Used with permission. 130 This coin from Arpi, Apulia is dated 325-275 B.C.E. The coins of this Italian city reflect Greek influence, and include Greek mythological figures as well as Greek lettering in the legends. The obverse has a laureate bust of Zeus left and the reverse has a (Calydonian?) boar right, with a spearhead above him right. The tusks of the boar are not overly prominent on this coin, but the bristles are strongly highlighted, both in the crest (which extends the full length of its back) and around its head. 35 Figure 8. Boston 99.518/Beazley 302569 . Photograph © Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. 35 36 http://www.beazley.ox.ac.uk/record/D67A6196-DBBC-4F22-8A1C-101D60420B9A Used with permission. Museum object description: "The Painter of the Boston Polyphemos Drinking cup (kylix) depicting scenes from the Odyssey Greek, Archaic Period, about 560–550 B.C. Place of Manufacture: Greece, Attica, Athens Ceramic, Black Figure Height: 13.2 cm (5 3/16 in.); diameter: 21.7 cm (8 9/16 in.) 36 131 This cup (ca. 550-525 B.C.E.) portrays the encounter of Circe and Odysseus' crew, showing the metamorphosis in progress. The boar-headed men feature bristled/crested heads. The tale in the Odyssey of some of Odysseus' crew being transformed into swine by Circe is a noteworthy parallel to our text, since it is an example of swine metamorphosis (though in the wrong direction) that highlights, among other features, the hair of the pig (Od. 10.239-240: "They had the head, voice, hair, and shape of pigs . . ."). Based on this evidence we can say that Esau's conditional statement about the swine, which highlights the texture of its hair and its lack of a horn, has resonances in the Greek tradition. This does not have strong evidentiary weight for our argument that the Iliad has influenced Jubilees, as there is no way to know whether or not Greek portrayals of swine influenced Esau's conditional statement, particularly when there are non-Greek parallels like Syriac Ahiqar for us to consider. However, the resonance is still worth noting as part of our comparative work. A stronger case can be made that the Greek literary and artistic tradition lies behind the swine simile in Jub. 37:24. There we read: "And [Esau] came bounding like a boar which comes upon a spear that pierces him and kills him and he does not turn back from it." The aggressive behavior presupposed in this verse will resonate with those familiar with wild boars. Their agricultural destructiveness has made them an adversary of humans throughout history, and has Museum of Fine Arts, Boston Henry Lillie Pierce Fund 99.518" 132 led (along with the desire for the challenge and glory of sport) to a long hunting tradition.37 As game they can be very aggressive, often turning against the hounds and humans that pursue them.38 The aggressive boar who turns on the hunter and is killed in the process is an apt description for Esau's behaviour in our passage. Like the hide and lack of horns, the aggressiveness of boars is not highlighted in the Hebrew Bible. Psalm 80:13 does refer to the wild boar who ravages, but the boar is engaging in agricultural destruction of Israel the vine, not attacking human beings. Some of the artistic portrayals of the Calydonian boar hunt show the boar charging headfirst into a spear (see above), the exact image that Jubilees seems to be evoking. Striking literary parallels can be found in the Iliad, which has particular relevance for our current study. The wild boar is a familiar character in the epic, where the ferocity and strength of the creature is made clear. What is particularly significant is the emphasis on the boar fearlessly striking back at its hunters. The boar is not a typical prey which flees from its predators until they finally overpower it. Instead it proudly lunges at the hounds and humans who pursue it. 39 A few examples of this are: 37 Psalm 80:13 presents the boar as ravaging the vine Israel. Philostratus the Elder, Imagines, 1.28: ". . . I see the devastation wrought by the [wild boar] — it has burrowed under the olive trees, cut down the vines, and has left neither fig tree nor apple tree or apple branch, but has torn them all out of the earth, partly by digging them up, partly by hurling itself upon them, and partly by rubbing against them" (Fairbanks, LCL). Cf. Tyler A. Campbell and David B. Long, "Feral swine damage and damage management in forested ecosystems," Forest and Ecology Management 257 (2009): 2319-2326. 38 Paul Garner, "Pick Sticking Injuries Are No Joke," British Medical Journal 311 (1995): 878. 39 Cf. Philostratus the Elder, Imagines, 1.28: "The boar cannot bring himself to keep out of sight, but leaps from the thicket and rushes at the horsemen" (Fairbanks, LCL). 133 They left these to lie there, since they had ended their fighting, then went into the ranks and wrought havoc, as when two wild boars hurl themselves in their pride upon the hounds who pursue them (Il. 11.324-325). But Hektor, as he had before, fought on like a whirlwind. As when among a pack of hounds and huntsmen assembled a wild boar or lion turns at bay in the strength of his fury, and the men, closing themselves into a wall about him, stand up to face him, and cast at him with the volleying spears thrown from their hands, and in spite of this the proud heart feels not terror, nor turns to run, and it is his own courage that kills him; and again and again he turns on them trying to break the massed men and wherever he charges the masses of men break away in front of him; such was Hektor . . . (Il. 12.40-45). . . . but he stood his ground like a mountain wild boar who in the confidence of his strength stands up to a great rabble of men advancing upon him in some deserted place, and bristles his back up, and both his eyes are shining with fire; he grinds his teeth in his fury to fight off the dogs and the men . . . (Il.13.471). . . . and made a rush against them like dogs, who sweep in rapidly on a wounded wild boar, ahead of the young men who hunt him, and for the moment race in raging to tear him to pieces until in the confidence of his strength he turns on them, at bay, and they give ground and scatter for fear one way and another . . . (Il. 17.725-729). It remains possible that the author of Jubilees is merely drawing on firsthand observations of the behavior of swine. However, we should strongly entertain the possibility that Jubilees is additionally or alternatively drawing on the Greek literary and artistic tradition, including Homer's Iliad, for its portrayal of swine in 37:24. Esau's invocation of the raven also resonates with traditions from the broader Greek world, although it does not have the same strong connection with the Iliad that we saw with the boar simile.40 In the Greek tradition we do actually find evidence of white ravens, which are naturally 40 For a useful catalogue of Greco-Roman sources on the raven, see W. Geoffrey Arnott, "Korax, Korakiskos" in Birds in the Ancient World from A to Z (London: Routledge, 2007), 163-167. Our discussion here is indebted to this work. 134 considered anomalies. Aristotle offers explanations for this and bird colour changes in general, citing either diet or climate.41 Thus transformation from black to white (but not the reverse) is something that is scientifically possible. It is also possible in the realm of mythology, in the legend of Lycius' short-lived transformation into a white raven.42 While the possibility of white ravens is given in some of the sources, Arnott alerts us to the proverbial assumption that these birds are quite rare or even impossible: "In ancient Greece . . . a 'white raven' came to be used as a proverbial expression for something that did not exist."43 Indeed, the white raven is a classic example of adynaton.44 For instance, Athenaeus quotes a story from Ergias of Rhodes in which the Phoenicians in Ialysus had received an oracle that they would occupy the territory e¢wß ko/rakeß leukoi\ ge/nwntai kai\ ejn toivß krathvrsin ijcqu/eß fanw!sin ("Until the ravens become white and fish appear in wine bowls").45 The Greek Anthology 11.417 preserves an anonymous saying from a man being accosted by an older woman. After rejecting her as an unripe apple, he asks her why she does not try to see a white raven (w¢ste ti/ peira/zeiß leuko\n ijdei"n ko/raka;) 41 de Coloribus 799b 1-3 (cited in Arnott, "Korax," 164). "With regard to winged animals, such as birds, no creature is liable to change of colour by reason of age, excepting the crane. The wings of this bird are ash-coloured at first, but as it grows old the wings get black. Again, owing to special climatic influences, as when unusual frost prevails, a change is sometimes observed to take place in birds whose plumage is of one uniform colour; thus, birds that have dusky or downright black plumage turn white or grey, as the raven, the sparrow, and the swallow; but no case has ever yet been known of a change of colour from white to black. (Further, most birds change the colour of their plumage at different seasons of the year, so much so that a man ignorant of their habits might be mistaken as to their identity.)" (Aristotle, HA 3.12). 42 Antoninus Liberalis 20.7. 43 Arnott, "Korax," 165. 44 For a survey of examples in both the ancient and more modern Greek world, see Paul Tuffin, "The Whitening Crow: Some ADUNATA in the Greek Tradition," Epeteris tou Kentrou Epistemonikon Ereunon 6 (1972-1973): 79-92. 45 Athenaeus, Deipnosophists, 360e. When Iphiclus sieged their city he learned about the oracles and painted some ravens white to trick them into surrender. 135 — because that would be just as impossible as seducing him. A few lines later Lucian is quoted as saying that one would have a batter chance of finding white ravens (leukou\ß ko/rakaß) and winged turtles than a skilled Cappadocian orator (11.436). As with the Greek resonances with the swine imagery in Esau's conditional statement, these raven parallels do not have much evidentiary weight in our argument for influence, as they may just be examples of a broader theme in the ancient world. Still, it is worth noting that Esau's raven adynaton fits quite comfortably with the Greek tradition. Of the Greek raven texts we noted above the story from Athenaeus' Deipnosophists is particularly interesting, since it dealt with the siege of a city. We encounter another interesting example of an adynaton within the context of a city siege in Herodotus 3.151:46 When Darius heard of this, he collected all his forces and led them against Babylon, and he marched up to the town and laid siege to it; but the Babylonians thought nothing of the siege. They came up on to the ramparts of the wall and taunted Darius and his army with gesture and word, and one of them uttered this mot: "Why loiter there, Persians, and not go away? You will take us when mules give birth." One of the Babylonians said this, by no means expecting that a mule would give birth (Godley, LCL). Mules are the offspring of horses and donkeys, and are almost always sterile. The nameless Babylonian is thus using an adynaton to mock the Persians and express the impossibility of them taking the city. Unfortunately for him, some time later the mule of Zopyrus gave birth, which was interpreted as a portent and encouraged the hatching of a plan to take the city (3.153.1). 46 The parallel between this passage and Esau’s speech was noted in James M. Scott, On Earth as in Heaven, 124 n.117. 136 This use of a bestial adynaton within a taunt in the context of a city siege is a noteworthy parallel to Esau's speech.47 We continue to find other connections with the Greek tradition, specifically the Iliad, in the resolution to Esau's speech. The most notable examples are Esau's death and burial (see discussion of burial above). Esau is of course killed by Jacob's arrow: !"# $ %& $ '() $ *+,- $ )./ $ '01' $ 23 $ '145 $ 6789 $ ":; $ '<4= $ '4<> $ 01' $ 23 $ '?@ $ ABCDE $ ACFG $ HI $ JKFG $ '(4L $ ')#= M Jacob then stretched his bow, shot an arrow, pierced his brother Esau [on his right breast], and struck him down. He shot another arrow and hit Aduran the Aramean on his left breast; he drove him back and killed him (38:2-3). As VanderKam notes, and as we can see from the versional evidence, there is widespread testimony outside the Ethiopic version for the inclusion of a phrase like "on his right breast" in v. 2.48 Aduran is then struck on his left breast. These anatomical specifications may have significance for our study. One of the major characteristics of the Iliad is its often detailed anatomical descriptions of where a spear, sword, or arrow penetrates a man's body in combat.49 47 We see another example of a taunt from a besieged city in 2 Sam 5:6, although it does not have an adynaton. Jubilees may be tapping into a broader tradition of battle taunts in the midst of a siege. 48 VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, ad loc. The versions include: touv dexiouv mazouv; mammillam dextram; and )NYMYd hBG. As noted above, it is possible that M.W. has been influenced by traditions that Jubilees initially created. 49 Christine F. Salazar (The Treatment of War Wounds in Graeco-Roman Antiquity, [Leiden: Brill, 2000], 129) notes that the Homeric descriptions of fatal blows "emphasize the effectiveness of the blow and the competence of the slayer." The competence of Jacob is clearly emphasized, as he kills two of his chief foes with two shots from his bow. 137 Included among these many descriptions are examples of breast/chest penetration, often with a directional or locational term used. We have at least eleven examples in Homer of someone's masto/ß being penetrated by a weapon, with locational words like para/ (Il. 4.480; 8.121, 313; 15.577; 17.606; 22.82), uJpe/r (Il. 4.528; 5.145; 11.108), and kata/ (Il. 5.393; 11.321). In 4.480481 it is the right (dexio/ß) masto/ß that is specified, while 11.321 specifies the left (ajristero/ß) masto/ß. The sthvqoß is penetrated at least twenty-two times.50 The right w•moß is often struck as well.51 It is possible that Jubilees' narration of Esau's death reflects such Homeric descriptions. This would not be without precedent, as we see other Jewish portrayals of battle scenes influenced by the epic tradition.52 Accessibility We have outlined the major points of similarity and difference between our two passages, and have explored some points of contact between the Jubilees passage and the broader Homeric and Greek traditions. We believe that the various similarities between the target passages provide compelling evidence for a genetic relationship. These similarities certainly pass MacDonald's criteria of density, order, and distinctive traits. They are not narrow or superficial parallels that can easily be dismissed. The additional similarities between the Jubilees passage and other traditions in the Iliad and broader Greek world, particularly the boar simile in Jub. 37:24, provided more evidence that 50 Il. 5.19, 41, 57, 317, 346; 8.121, 259, 303, 313; 11.108, 144, 448; 13.186; 15.523, 577, 650; 16.597, 753; 17.606; Od. 20.62; 22.82, 93 51 Il. 5.46, 98; 11.507; 14.450; 16.289, 343; Od. 19.452. 52 The Epic of Theodotus, for instance. 138 Jubilees was conversant with the Greek world and Homeric epic. We continue now in this same vein, by making a general case for accessibility. If a writer is making use of an earlier source s/he clearly needs to have some kind of access to it. This does not necessarily mean s/he has a copy of the text, but there has to have been some kind of exposure to it. Can a plausible case be made that Jubilees would have had access to/knowledge of Book XXII of Homer's Iliad? In some respects this is one of the most important points for us to establish, as it is not only logically necessary for our argument, but it may constitute the primary barrier to accepting our case for influence. A simple thought experiment can illustrate this latter point. If our Iliad passage came from First Samuel instead of Homer, would many doubt that our Jubilees passage had been influenced by it? I suspect that there would be little resistance to an argument for influence in this case, just as I suspect that our argument for the influence of Isaiah on Jubilees has not given any readers pause. The primary reason for this is simple: we easily assume that a Palestinian Jewish writer of the second century B.C. E. would have a great chance of exposure and access to most of the texts that constitute the Hebrew Bible. When we're dealing with a non-Jewish text like the Iliad, however, there is no widespread scholarly assumption that a second-century B.C. E. Palestinian Jew would have access to the text. Our claim here is that the similarities between our two texts are strong enough that if we were dealing with a text from the Hebrew Bible (other than a second-century text like Daniel) rather than the Iliad, then a claim of influence would be largely accepted. If this is true, then we merely need to show that it is plausible that the author of Esau's speech had access to Iliad XXII to make our argument compelling. 139 We begin by noting the broad importance and accessibility of Homer's works in the Hellenistic world.53 While the analogy is conceptually misleading in some respects, Homer was "the Bible" of the Greek world.54 His influence was felt in many different realms of society. 55 Even those like Plato who objected to Homer's content were forced to engage with him. Indeed, Plato felt the need to criticize Homer precisely because of the prominent role of the epics in classical Athenian society. In the Hellenistic era Homer's canonical status was maintained by using exegetical/text-critical and allegorical interpretations to make troubling texts more 53 Dennis MacDonald has brought together evidence for the prominent role of Homer in the Greco-Roman world in several of his works, including: The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark, 4-5; Christianizing Homer: The Odyssey, Plato, and The Acts of Andrew, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994), 17-19; and Does the New Testament Imitate Homer?: Four Cases from the Acts of the Apostles, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003), 1-4. See also Karl Olav Sandnes, "Imitatio Homeri?", 716-717. Sandnes affirms MacDonald's arguments about the general accessibility of Homer and the prominent place of his epics in Greco-Roman society, before criticizing his work on Mark. Cf. Sandnes' The Gospel 'According to Homer and Virgil': Cento and Canon (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 6-11. 54 Hengel (Judaism and Hellenism, 66) calls it "almost canonical" and notes its prominence in Greek education. MacDonald (Does the New Testament Imitate Homer?, 3) notes: "If an ancient Greek reader knew only one work of literature, it probably was the Iliad." Finkelberg articulates the results of the research group on Mechanisms of Canon-Making in Ancient Mediterranean and Near Eastern Societies, which distinguished between two types of canon: "a stronger canonicity as embodied in foundational texts and a weaker one represented by various cultural sub-canons, the literary canon being the most obvious example" (Margalit Finkelberg, "Canonising and Decanonising Homer: Reception of the Homeric Poems in Antiquity and Modernity," in Homer and the Bible in the Eyes of Ancient Interpreters [ed. Maren Niehoff; Leiden: Brill, 2012],16). She argues that Homer's role in the ancient world meets all three of the criteria for the stronger form of canonicity: (1) it occupied the central place in education; (2) it was the focus of exegetical activity aimed at defending it from any form of criticism; and (3) it was the vehicle by which the identity of the community to which it belonged was articulated (16-20). 55 ". . . the Homeric epics constituted the literary 'classics' of the ancient world — the school textbooks, literary exemplars, theological sourcebooks, and moralizing fodder for generations of educated men (and some women)." Margaret M. Mitchell, "Homer in the New Testament?", 245. 140 palatable.56 Only an influential text receives such revisionist treatment. Homer's Iliad may have had special influence on the one who ushered in the Hellenistic age, as Plutarch tells us that Alexander the Great carried a copy of the text on his conquests and kept it under his pillow.57 Homeric influence can be seen in a variety of Hellenistic genres, but perhaps most notably in the rise of Hellenistic epics written in Greek ("Homeric") hexameter. Even prose writers alluded to, quoted, and appropriated Homer in various ways. The manuscript tradition shows the prominence of Homer, with a catalogue of Greco-Roman manuscripts listing over six hundred copies of Homer (mostly the Iliad), over twice as many as Demosthenes, Euripides, and Hesiod combined.58 Homer was a primary subject of grammatical, lexical, and text-critical study by Hellenistic scholars.59 But he was not limited to scholars: he also played an important role throughout the various stages of Greek education.60 The importance of Homer throughout the life of the literate ancient is summarized well by a quotation from Heraclitus: From the earliest stage of life, our infant children in their first moments of learning are suckled on [Homer]; we are wrapped in his poems, one might also say, as babies, and nourish our minds on their milk. As the child grows and comes to manhood Homer is at his side. Homer shares his mature years, and the man is never weary of him even in old 56 MacDonald, Christianizing Homer, 18-19; Finkelberg, "Canonising and Decanonising Homer," 17-19. For a discussion of Homer's reception history see Nicholas Richardson, The Iliad: a Commentary, 25-49. 57 Plut., Alexander 8.2, citing Onesicritus as his source. Elizabeth Carney, "Artifice and Alexander History," in Alexander the Great in Fact and Fiction (ed. A.B. Bosworth and E.J. Baynham; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 280 n.46. 58 MacDonald, Does the New Testament Imitate Homer?, 3. 59 Eleanor Dickey, Ancient Greek Scholarship (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 18-28. "Ancient scholarship on Homer was extensive and of high quality, for the best scholars of antiquity devoted much of their time and energy to the Homeric poems" (18). 60 Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism, 66-67. Ronald F. Hock, "Homer in Greco-Roman Education," in Mimesis and Intertextuality in Antiquity and Christianity (ed. Dennis R. MacDonald; Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2001), 56-67. 141 age. When we leave him, we feel the thirst again. The end of Homer is the end of life for us.61 Given the prominence of Homer in Hellenistic culture it is difficult to imagine that any Jews who undertook formal Greek education or were involved in the higher echelons of society in places like Alexandria would have been unfamiliar with him. Indeed, it is clear that Jews in Hellenistic Egypt were conversant with Greek literature in general and Homer in particular, and that they were adopting distinctively Greek forms and styles in their own writings. Ezekiel the Tragedian recasts Jewish content in Greek dramatic form. The Third Sibyl is written in Greek hexameter and interacts with Greek mythology. Philo the epic poet writes in the Homeric epic tradition, and we might assume that Sosates "the Jewish Homer" did as well.62 Aristobulus claims that Homer learned from the Torah.63 Moving into the Roman period we find Jewish authors like Philo of Alexandria explicitly mentioning and interacting with Homer.64 To claim that a Hellenistic-Jewish work with Alexandrian provenance reflects Homeric influence is relatively uncontroversial. The question for us is this: to what extent were Palestinian Jews in the Hellenistic era similarly familiar and conversant with Greek literature in general, and Homer in particular? This is still an open issue in scholarship, and we will not try to be comprehensive. First, we should be cautious about making too strong of a distinction between Alexandrian and Palestinian Judaism. While these are certainly two distinct environments, there were 61 Quoted in Karl Olav Sandnes, "Imitatio Homeri?", 716. See Shaye J.D. Cohen, "Sosates the Jewish Homer," HTR 74 (1981): 391-396; R.W. Burgess, "Another Look at Sosates, The 'Jewish Homer.'" JSJ 44 (2013): 195-217. 63 5:13-15. 64 Conf. 4; Abr. 10; Contempl. 17; Legat. 80. 62 142 exchanges and visits between the Jewish communities in Alexandria and Jerusalem.65 We see this reflected in the opening materials of Second Maccabees, for instance.66 Jubilees itself may betray knowledge of Jewish traffic between Egypt and Palestine, including the ways such travel could be interrupted by conflict between the Ptolemies and Seleucids. 67 We can also point to common traditions that emerge in Palestinian Hebrew and Alexandrian Greek texts, including Jubilees. We noted earlier that there are some remarkable parallels between Jubilees 8-10 and the Third Sibyl, which is typically assigned an Egyptian provenance. It is possible that any Palestinian Jewish author writing in Hebrew would have traveled to Alexandria or conversed with Jews who had, and such travel or conversations could have included exposure to Greek literature. Second, we can point to evidence for Hellenistic education within Palestine itself.68 The most notable example is of course the gymnasium project that was initiated in Jerusalem in the mid170s B.C.E (1 Macc 1:14-15; 2 Macc 4:9, 12). The gymnasium was a Hellenistic educational institution, and while we do not know as much about its curriculum as we might like, it is possible that Homer played a role in the curriculum in Jerusalem.69 Even if this is granted, some might object that Jubilees represents those Jews who were opposed to the construction of the gymnasium and saw it as a capitulation to Gentile culture. Indeed, the accounts of this cultural initiative in First and Second Maccabees are quite negative and link it to the illicit adoption of foreign customs. We noted in our earlier history of scholarship that the comments on nudity in 65 Hengel also points to these "cross-connections with Judaism in Alexandria" (Judaism and Hellenism, 76). 66 2 Macc 1:1-2:18. 67 Jub. 46:7, 11. 68 See Hengel’s overview in Judaism and Hellenism, 65-83. 69 Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism, 66. 143 Jub. 3:30-31 are customarily interpreted as a polemic against the nude athletics of the Jerusalem gymnasium. Such observations, though important, do not ultimately weigh against our argument for accessibility. Even if the author of Jubilees was among those voices opposed to the gymnasium and what it represented, it still remains possible that the gymnasium itself and/or the broader "Hellenizing" impulses in Jerusalem that led to its construction helped facilitate the dissemination of Homeric epic into Palestinian Judaism. This means that even if the author of Jubilees abstained from any contact with the gymnasium he might still have been affected by it. If he was aware of and responded to the nudity associated with the activities there, is it not also possible that he was aware of and responded to the literary and cultural studies that may have been undertaken there? Even beyond the gymnasium we need to consider the role that Greek tutors may have played in introducing Greek literature to aristocratic Jews. 70 Third, the so-called Hellenism crisis in Palestine was probably not a completely spontaneous occurrence, but built upon processes of "Hellenization" that had begun far earlier. Hengel notes that the controversial events of the Hellenistic reform attempt "were only conceivable on the basis of a lengthy period of preparation, in which Hellenistic influences in Jerusalem had long been at work, though we do not know much about them . . . A man like Jason could only introduce his reform in Jerusalem and lead ephebes as 'gymnasiarch' because he himself had also undergone a certain degree of Greek education"71 Fourth, we should keep in mind the evidence of Greek influence on Jubilees mentioned in chapter one. There we saw that the author was aware of and made use of Greek geographical 70 71 Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism, 75-76. Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism, 75. 144 traditions, including the Ionian map and the klimata tradition. We also noted Cana Werman's arguments that Jubilees reflects Greek influence in its obsession with chronology, its use of the culture hero theme, and its identification of Nimrod with king Ninus. Finally, we can point to Palestinian Jewish literature written in both Greek and Semitic languages that exhibits Homeric influence. We will highlight three primary examples: the Epic of Theodotus, Tobit, and Sirach. We will also briefly note evidence from the Rabbis. The Epic of Theodotus We already noted Diaspora authors like Sosates the "Jewish Homer" and Philo the epic poet who were familiar with and shaped by the epic tradition. Particularly important for us, however, is the work of Theodotus the epic poet, since it may have a Palestinian provenance. Like Philo's epic, the Epic of Theodotus comes to us in fragmentary form via Alexander Polyhistor and Eusebius. It is written in Greek hexameter and is indebted to the Homeric epic tradition. One example of this indebtedness is the graphic description of Simeon and Levi's massacre: At that time Levi, also irresistible in might, seized Sychem [Shechem] by the hair; the latter grasped his knees and raged unspeakably. Levi struck the middle of his collarbone; the sharp sword entered his inward parts through the chest; and his life thereupon left his bodily frame (frag. 8; Fallon, OTP). Compare this with a passage like Il. 21.116-120: . . . Achilleus drawing his sharp sword struck him beside the neck at the collar-bone, and the double-edged sword plunged full length inside. He dropped to the ground, face downward, and lay at length, and the black blood flowed, and the ground was soaked with it. 145 The title, as preserved by Alexander Polyhistor, is On the Jews, although Eusebius offers an alternative title Concerning Jacob.72 The extant fragments focus on Jacob and his family, particularly the events at Shechem in Genesis 34. The dating of the epic has varied, with scholars proposing the first half of the second century B.C.E., the second half of that century, or the early part of the first century B.C.E. Alexander Polyhistor's date in the mid-first century B.C.E. sets that as a terminus ante quem. Scholarship has been divided on the authorship of the epic. Freudenthal's argument that a Samaritan wrote the epic set the tone of scholarship for the late nineteenth and much of the twentieth centuries.73 In the 1970s and 1980s scholars like Collins and Pummer challenged this, arguing instead for Jewish authorship. 74 Recently there has been a defense of the older Samaritan hypothesis. 75 Jewish authorship is certainly more significant for our argument; however, it is worth noting that whether one accepts Jewish or Samaritan authorship, most scholars place Theodotus in Palestine rather than the Diaspora. This means we have a Palestinian text of the second century B.C. E. written by a Jew or a Samaritan that reflects careful interaction with Homeric epic. 72 Robert Doran, "Theodotus," in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism (ed. John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 1305. 73 J. Freudenthal, Alexander Polyhistor und die von ihm ehaltenen Reste jüdischer und samaritanischer Geschischtswerke, (Breslau: Grass, 1874). For a list of authors who held this view see Reinhard Plummer, "Genesis 34 in Jewish Writings of the Hellenistic and Roman Periods," HTR 75 (1982): 177-88, 177 n.2. 74 John J. Collins, "The Epic of Theodotus and the Hellenism of the Hasmoneans," HTR 73 (1980): 91-104; Reinhard Pummer, "Genesis 34 in Jewish Writings of the Hellenistic and Roman Periods," HTR 75 (1982): 177-188. 146 Tobit Tobit is a Palestinian Jewish narrative written in Hebrew/Aramaic. In 1911 Carl Fries noticed similarities between Tobit and Homer's Odyssey, although he did not argue for Tobit's dependence on Homer.76 More recently Dennis MacDonald and George Nickelsburg have both explored these connections, arguing that the author of Tobit did draw on the Odyssey, although Nickelsburg directs our attention to the complexity of intertextuality in Tobit and urges us to also consider the influence of Genesis on the book.77 The identified parallels between the two works include a connection between Raphael and Athena as immortals taking on the guise of a family friend or relative in order to guide a son on his journey, similarities in the details of the journey, dogs who follow the sons around,78 a wedding, a feast following baths, anguished mothers at 75 Michael Daise, "Samaritans, Seleucids, and the Epic of Theodotus," JSP 17 (1998): 25-51; Doron Mendels, The Land of Israel as a Political Concept in Hasmonean Literature, 110-116. 76 Carl Fries, "Das Buch Tobit und die Telemachie," ZWTh 53 (1911): 54-87. Cited in Dennis R. MacDonald, "Tobit and the Odyssey," 11. 77 Dennis MacDonald, "Tobit and the Odyssey," in Mimesis and Intertextuality in Antiquity and Christianity, (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 2001), 11-40 and George W.E. Nickelsburg, "Tobit, Genesis, and the Odyssey: A Complex Web of Intertextuality," in Mimesis and Intertextuality in Antiquity and Christianity, (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 2001), 41-55. Anne M. O'Leary considers this evidence favorably (Matthew's Judaization of Mark: Examined in the Context of the Use of Sources in Graeco-Roman Antiquity (London: T&T Clark, 2006), 58-65, and argues that Tobit is a "literary mimetic 'sandwich' with the "filling" (Tob. 2:11-12:16) the result of a conflation of materials from the Odyssey and Genesis, and the bread being the "deuteronomized narrative" at the beginning and end of the book (68). Her point on conflation is noteworthy: "The cumulative evidence . . . indicates a substantial literary relationship between the book of Tobit and both Genesis and the Odyssey. The dependence of the book of Tobit upon the Odyssey affirms the reality of literary conflation of Jewish and classical Greek writings by the second century" (65) Such a conflation is exactly what we are seeing in Esau's speech. 78 The connection with the dog was noted earlier in an essay by Jonathan Swift ("Thoughs on Various Subjects, Moral and Diverting," [1706]): "The expression in the Apocrypha about Tobit and his dog following him, I have often heard ridiculed; yet Homer has the same words of Telemachus more than once: and Virgil says something like it of Evander. And I take the book of 147 home, similar farewell scenes, and the comparable disclosures of Odysseus and Raphael's identities.79 Evidence for the influence of the Odyssey among Semitic Jewish writers in Palestine does not necessarily mean the Iliad would have been known as well, but given that the Iliad was the more popular and widely read and copied of Homer's epics, use of the Odyssey does increase the probability that someone was aware of the Iliad. Ben Sira Ben Sira is an example of a Palestinian Jewish writer who composed his work in Hebrew and likely made use of material from the Iliad. While the extent and nature of Ben Sira's interaction with Greek literature and culture is debated, many scholars readily admit the influence of Il. 6.146-149 on Sir 14:18.80 Sir 14:18 (MS A) {jmwx} lmwg rjaw lbwn hzC / Nnor Xo lo hlo jrpk lmwg81 djaw owg dja Mdw rCb twrwd Nk Tobit to be partly poetical." Printed in The Works of Jonathan Swift (ed. Laing Purves; Edinburgh: William P. Nimmo, 1869), 516. 79 MacDonald, "Tobit and the Odyssey," 16-39; Nickelsburg, "Tobit, Genesis, and the Odyssey," 42-46; O'Leary, Matthew's Judaization of Mark, 62-64. 80 Th. Middendorp, Die Stellung Jesu Ben Siras zwischen Judentum und Hellenismus (Leiden: Brill, 1973), 19, claims that the Ben Sira passage "stammt aus Ilias VI, 148f." R.A.F. MacKenzie, Sirach (Wilmington, Del.: Michael Glazier, 1983), 69 considers it a "paraphrase" of Il. 6.146. Benjamin Wright, "Ben Sira on Kings and Kingship," in Jewish Perspectives on Hellenistic Rulers (ed. Tessa Rajak et al.; Berkeley: University of California, 2007), 90 n.4, thinks it probable that Sirach "quotes Homer." West, The East Face of Helicon, 365 n.37, claims the passage is "almost certainly influenced by the Iliad passage." Patrick W. Skehan and Alexander A. Di Lella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira: a New Translation with Notes (New York: Doubleday, 1987), 260, note that Homer "employs a similar image" but do not make any claims about a genetic relationship. 81 Pancratius C. Beentjes, The Book of Ben Sira in Hebrew (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 43. The second line was written in the margin. Beentjes mistakenly has rja rather than dja. See S. Schechter and C. Taylor, The Wisdom of Ben Sira (Cambridge: Cambridge, 1899) for correct transcription. jmwx is a supralineal correction of lmwg. 148 As with the leaves that grow on a vigorous tree: one falls off and another sprouts — So with the generations of flesh and blood: one dies and another flourishes (Skehan and di Lella, 258). Sir 14:18 (LXX) wJß fu/llon qa¿llon e˙pi« de÷ndrou dase÷oß, ta» me«n kataba¿llei, a‡lla de« fu/ei, ou¢twß genea» sarko\ß kai« aiºmatoß, hJ me«n teleuta!ˆ, e˚te÷ra de« genna!tai. Like a sprouting leaf on a thickly leaved tree, some it sheds, but others it puts forth; so is a generation of flesh and blood, the one dies and the other is born (NETS). Il. 6.146-149 oi¢h per fu/llwn geneh\ toi/h de\ kai\ ajndrw!n. fu/lla ta\ me/n t' a¶menoß cama/diß ce/ei, a¶lla de/ q' uºlh thleqo/wsa fu/ei, e¶aroß d' ejpigi/netai wºrh wºß ajndrw!n geneh\ h" me\n fu/ei h± d' ajpolh/gei. As is the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity. The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the live timber burgeons with leaves again in the season of spring returning. So one generation of men will grow while another dies. Sanders joins the voices that affirm a genetic relationship between the two texts, noting that "the manner of expression and the movement of thought in these two passages is strikingly similar." He points to specific verbal connections, such as: jrp/fu/llon, hlo/thleqa/w/fu/w, jmx/fu/w, rwd/genea/, djaw . . .dja/me/n . . . de/.82 Sanders' claim is particularly noteworthy, since he spends considerable time criticizing Middendorp's argument that Ben Sira made use of a chrestomathy that contained quotations from Homer, Hesiod, Xenophon, Sophocles, Euripides, and other Greek authors. Though he ultimately agrees with Middendorp that Ben Sira directly used Theognis, Sir 14:18 is the only other text where Sanders believes a case for influence from a 82 Jack T. Sanders, Ben Sira and Demotic Wisdom (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1983), 39. Sanders accidentally switched two of his word pairings. We have presented the corrected pairings. 149 non-Jewish Greek work is likely. 83 He doubts, however, that Ben Sira had a chrestomathy with these Homeric lines or had read Homer himself. Rather, this is an unintentional echo of a memorable saying that had worked its way from Homer into the cultural air Ben Sira was breathing.84 Where Ben Sira may have breathed in this Homeric air is an open question. He implies that he has traveled (Sir 34:10-12), making it possible that he encountered the Iliad passage outside of Palestine. If so, then Ben Sira may not actually provide us with evidence that the Iliad was in the Palestinian air. Still, he would illustrate the fact that Palestinian Jews were capable of travel and could be exposed to and ultimately import passages from Greek literature back into the land. It is worth noting that there are other texts that make use of the ideas and images we see in Sir 14:18 and Il. 6.146-149, both within and outside the Jewish tradition, which indicates that this was a common way of speaking about human mortality. 85 This might weigh against a genetic relationship between the two texts. However, given the connections between the texts pointed 83 For his interaction with Middendorp and the question of Hellenic influence on Sirach, see Ben Sira and Demotic Wisdom, 27-59. Middendorp, Die Stellung, also identifies Sir 4:20-21 with Il. 24:44 (14) and Sir 13:16 with Il. 22.262-266 (18). Sanders rejects both of these identifications, arguing the former two passages are not the same "since Homer means that being ashamed of an impropriety may lead one to harm oneself in penance, whereas Ben Sira means that improper shame may lead one away from wisdom and righteousness" (40). For the latter pair of passages which deal with the wolf/lamb antipathy he notes "although this might well be a matter of universal observation, [Ben Sira] could have learned of the incongruity of such cohabitation from its miraculous reversal in Isa 11:6. Sir 13:17, however, compares wolf and lamb with wicked and righteous, which is not to be found either in Il. 22.262-66 or in Isa 11:6; so that the situation here is quite different from that in the case of Sir 14:18 and Il. 6:148-49, where the parallelism went quite beyond what might have been universally observed. Here the universally observable phenomenon is the only connection, and the most likely conclusion is that the contrast is independent." (40) 84 Sanders, Ben Sira and Demotic Wisdom, 55. 85 West, East Face of Helicon, 365; Skehan and Di Lella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira, 260-261. 150 out by Sanders, and the fact that Sirach/Iliad are closer to each other than the other texts, it seems that there is a good possibility that Sirach exhibits specifically Homeric influence in 14:18. We can conclude that while the nature of the borrowing/influence here may be less intentional than what we are envisioning for Esau's speech, it at least demonstrates that passages from Homer's Iliad were capable of influencing Palestinian Jewish texts composed in Hebrew in the early second century B.C. E. Rabbinic Literature The Rabbinic literature postdates Jubilees, but it is at least worth noting in passing that there is a handful of references in this Hebrew corpus to srymh yrps. 86 The meaning of this expression is disputed, but it is possible that it should be read as "books of Homer," which may reflect knowledge of Homer among Hebrew speaking, Rabbinic Jews in Palestine.87 Lieberman has gone as far as suggesting that "although Rabbinic acquaintance with the Homeric epics cannot be proved, [the sources] give the impression that some of the Rabbis who knew Greek most likely 86 See, for instance, m. Yadayim 4.6.1 and y. Sanhedrin 10.1.28a. For a discussion of these and other alleged references to Homer see Saul Lieberman, Greek in Jewish Palestine; Hellenism in Jewish Palestine (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1994), 105-114. 87 Gordis lists six options that have been proposed: "1) srymh = 'The books of Homer,' 2) 'works of heretics, who exchange true religion for falsehood,' 3) ÔHmerh/sia Bi/blia = 'chronicles,' 4) from iºmeroß — 'love, charm,' hence 'books of entertainment,' 5) from mw/roß = 'fool' hence 'foolish books,' a cacophemism for heretical writings, 6) Hamiram, an unknown person for whom secular books are named, like Ben Sira, Ben Tagla and Ben La'ana." Robert Gordis, "'Homeric' Books in Palestine," JQR 38 (1948): 359. After considering an additional argument that srymh is a transliteration of me/roß and a reference to Judeo-Christians he notes that "All in all, the most plausible view is still the traditional interpretation of srymh as 'Homer'" (361). 151 did read Homer."88 However, the phrase may not be specifying the Iliad and the Odyssey, but rather functioning as a generic term for Greek and/or other non-Jewish literature.89 Even if it is merely a generic term this is still significant, since using "Homer" in such an all-inclusive way indicates that Hebrew-speaking Jews were well aware of the fundamental nature of his epics in the ancient world. Motivation We have made a case in the preceding paragraphs for accessibility, meaning that it is plausible that the author of Jubilees would have had some sort of access or exposure to portions of Homer's Iliad. An additional comment may be called for on the question of motivation. We will give more attention to this in the discussion of interpretability below, but we can briefly raise the issue here. Even if we grant that our author had access to Homer, would he have been comfortable drawing on Greek epic in his own composition? For some, the general caricature of Jubilees as a composition that draws a hard line between the covenant people and the nations might weigh against this possibility. However, even though there is a level of cultural antagonism in Jubilees, we may need to be a little more nuanced in our assessment of the book's interaction with non-Jewish culture. 88 Lieberman, Hellenism in Jewish Palestine, 114. Naeh is not as optimistic: "While it is quite certain, then, that Palestinian rabbis allowed the reading of Homer, we have no hint about actual reading of these books by the rabbis." Shlomo Naeh, "Reception, in Rabbinic Judaism," in The Homer Encyclopedia (ed. Margalit Finkelberg; Malden, Mass.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2001),717. 89 "Because of their stereotypic character, these references may testify to the rabbis' recognition of the Homeric books as the basic, or even holy, literary corpus of the Greeks, but cannot supply us with any further information about actual knowledge of Homer among the rabbis." Naeh, "Reception, in Rabbinic Judaism," 716-717. Cf. Gordis, 362: "The meaning of the phrase has, however, been extended, so that it refers not to the Homeric epics alone, but to Greek literature as a whole." See also Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism, 75. 152 First, we would be wise to give ear to Martin Hengel's words about Hellenism and the Essene community: "!The Essenes were . . . probably the sharpest enemies of the new Greek wisdom in Eretz Israel. But even they could not escape the penetrating Zeitgeist of the new era. It is a law of the history of thought that the enemy is often influenced by the opinions against which he is fighting.!"90 Second, it is possible that an author can make use of a cultural source that s/he feels antagonism for in order to ultimately critique that source and the culture or group it represents. Third, cultures are complex and multifaceted social entities, and interactions between and within different cultures cannot be accurately described with simple binaries. We should expect to find mixed and varied levels of interaction, appropriation, and rejection even among those Jews who expressed higher levels of antagonism towards the nations. John Barclay notes that: "Like any cultural complex, [Hellenism's] ingredients were multiple, and when treating the topic of 'Hellenization' (that is, cultural engagement with 'Hellenism'), it is valuable to recall the many different aspects involved."91 For instance, a Second Temple Jewish writer could write in Greek, thus adopting the language of the Hellenic world, while still refusing to participate in foreign cults. We might also encounter someone like the author of Jubilees rejecting the sinful ways of the nations, but still drawing upon Greek scientific and literary traditions.92 90 Martin Hengel, "Qumran and Hellenism," in Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. John J. Collins and Robert A. Kugler; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 55. 91 John M.G. Barclay, Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora: From Alexander to Trajan (323 B.C. E.-117 C. E.) (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996), 88-89. Barclay goes on to identify seven cultural components for us to consider in an analysis of Judaism in its Hellenistic environment: political, social, linguistic, educational, ideological, religious, and material (89-90). 92 We saw in our opening chapter that the author of Jubilees made use of Greek geographical traditions, indicating some familiarity with Greek "science." Some might be quicker to admit Jubilees' use of such seemingly secular knowledge than admitting the use of a text like the Iliad, 153 Analogy Our comments above apply to the general accessibility of Homer's epics to our Palestinian Jewish author. Homer's epics are quite lengthy, however, and knowledge of/access to some of the contents of the Iliad in some form does not necessarily mean an author would have access to or use a specific passage, like Achilles' speech to Hector. MacDonald's criterion of analogy urges us to look for other examples in the ancient world of a supposed hypotext being utilized by later authors. We do not have other clear examples of our specific passage being used by Palestinian Jews writing in Semitic languages in our general time period. However, there are illuminating examples from the broader Greek tradition. If a particular Homeric passage or episode was familiar in this broader tradition then it increases the possibility that non-Greek Hellenistic peoples would have been exposed to it. In our discussion of the characterization of Achilles we explored some of the reception history of Achilles' interactions with Hector. It became clear that Achilles' combat with Hector and subsequent treatment of his body were quite famous in the ancient world, and were the subjects of ethical reflection, literary re-appropriation, and artistic presentation. To that discussion we can now add some additional references to and appropriations of Achilles' speech to Hector. One such example comes from Lucian's Revivescentes sive piscator 3 where we read this quotation of Il. 22.262: wJß oujk e¶sti le/ousi kai\ ajndra/sin oºrkia pista/. In the context Plato and the other revivified philosophers are trying to lynch Frankness, who represents Lucian in the work. Frankness offers a plea for mercy: "No, no! In the name of Him who hears the suppliant with its many references to foreign gods. It should be noted, however, that for the ancients 154 [Zeus], spare me!" Plato rejects the plea: "Your doom is sealed: you cannot be let go now. You know, of course, what Homer says: 'Since between lions and men there exist no bounds of alliance.'"93 Frankness responds with his own Homeric reference, echoing Adrestos' appeal to Menelaus in Il. 6.46-50. Plato counters with another Homeric reference, echoing Diomedes' rejection of Dolon's plea in Il. 10.447-453. Realizing Homer will not help him, Frankness turns to Euripides. Lucian's use of Il. 22.262 is technically different from what we find in Jubilees, since his Plato is explicitly quoting from Homer at the beginning of a battle of Iliadic quotations. It is noteworthy, however, that this specific line is quoted and that it is used in a way that is in keeping with its original context in the Iliad. Achilles' simile is used to reject the plea of Hector within the context of a pursuit, just as Plato uses the simile to reject Franknesses supplication while he is violently pursued by the philosophers. This shows us that Achilles' lion simile in 22.262, which we have argued influenced our Jubilees passage, was quoted by an ancient author in such a way that it reflected knowledge of the original literary context and made use of it in a comparable contemporary setting. We find another quotation of the vehicle of Achilles' speech in Maximus of Tyre's Dissertations 35.6.1-8: Ti/ß a·n ou•n paraskeuh\ ge/noito ajndri fili/aß ejrasthØv pro\ß to\ kthvma touvto; calepo\n me\n eijpeivn, rJhte/on de\ oºmwß: wJß oujk e¶sti le/ousi kai\ ajndra/sin oºrkia pista/. oujde\ lu/k oi te kai\ a‡rneß oJmo/frona qumo\n e¶c ousin, ouºtwß ou/k e¶stin oujde\ ajndri\ pro\ß a¶ndra filia/ß oJlkh/, me/criß aªn aujtwø! oiJ ojfqalmoi\ fanta/zwntai cruso\n kai\ a¶rguron. Homer was used as a source of "secular" knowledge such as history, geography, and science. 93 Harmon, LCL. 155 By what mean then can a man who is a lover of friendship obtain this possession? It is difficult indeed to say, but at the same time it must be told: 'As men with lions form no faithful leagues, Nor lambs with wolves possess according souls,' So neither is there any attraction of friendship between man and man as long as their eyes are dazzled with silver and gold."94 What is fascinating here is that the the full, double-vehicle of Achilles' simile is quoted sans explicit citation, and the tenor is then replaced with the author's own composition. We see a similar example in Atticus the Philosopher 4.21 (preserved in Eusebius' Praeparatio 15.4): JWß ga\r oujk e¶sti le/ousi kai\ ajndra/sin oºrkia pista oujde\ lu/k oi te kai\ a‡rneß oJmo/frona qumo\n e¶c ousin ouºtwß ou/k e¶sti Pla/twni kai\ jAristote/lei fili/a peri\ touv korufaiota/u tou kai\ kuriwta/tou thvß eujdaimoni/aß do/gmatoß. Diampere\ß ga/r, eij mh\ kaka\ frone/ousin ajllh/loiß, ta/ ge uJpenanti/a peri\ twvn eijß touvto diafero/ntwn fai/nontai le/gonteß. For as "lions and men no safe alliance form, nor wolves and lambs in friendly mind agree," so between Plato and Aristotle there is no friendship in regard to the very chief and paramount doctrine of happiness. For if they have no evil thoughts one towards the other, yet it is evident that their statements concerning what is important on this point are diametrically opposite.95 Again we have a full quotation of Achilles' vehicle without an explicit citation, and the substitution of an author's own tenor. In this case the author has intermixed elements from Achilles' adversative statement (ajlla\ kaka\ frone/ousi diampere\ß ajllh/loisin) into an explanatory comment following the tenor. While Achilles used this statement to underline the incompatibility of the wolves/lambs pair, Atticus uses it negatively with reference to the tenor: 94 Dissertations of Maximus Tyrius. Vol. 2 Trans. Thomas Taylor. London: C. Wittingham, 1804. Eusebius, The Preparation for the Gospel. Vol. 2. Trans. Edwin Hamilton Gifford. Oxford: Clarendon, 1903. 95 156 Plato and Aristotle do not have evil-mindedness towards each other, while in Achilles' speech the wolves and lambs did. In Julian the Apostate's The Heroic Deeds of the Emperor Constantius, or On Kingship 98c we see another use of Achilles' words: jAnh\r tw!n ejpitacqe/ntwn ejn Galati/aø stratope/doiß (i¶ste i¶swß kai\ tou¶mona kai\ to\n tro/pon) oºmhron filiaß kai\ pi/stewß ajpe/lipen oujde\n deome/nwø basilei" to\n paivda: ei•ta h•n ajpisto/teroß twvn leo/ntwn, oi–ß oujk e¶sti, fhsi/, pro\ß a¶ndraß oºrkia pista/ . . . A certain man who had been given the command of the garrisons in Galatia — you probably know his name and character — left his son behind him as a hostage for his friendship and loyalty to the Emperor, though not at the Emperor's request. Then he proved to be more treacherous than "lions who have no faithful covenants with man," as the poet says . . . (Wright, LCL) This story refers to Silvanus, and uses Achilles' statement regarding lions and humans to describe the broken faith of an historic person, much as Jubilees has used Achilles' statement to illustrate the broken faith of Esau. These examples, in addition to the evidence explored in our discussion of Achilles' reception history, show us that Achilles' engagement with Hector, including the specific wording of his speech, continued to be re-appropriated throughout the Greco-Roman literary tradition. Achilles' words could be seamlessly incorporated into a new composition, being combined with new elements such as an original tenor in order to accomplish an author's own rhetorical goals. Thus, we find evidence that satisfies the criterion of analogy. While these are all examples in Greek works of non-Jewish writers, it shows that our Iliad passage was popular enough that someone 157 who was conversant with Greek literature in some way, even second-hand, may have had knowledge of it. The evidence we have just cited could also be used to argue against some of our previous points. We have made the case that Esau's speech is influenced in a more-or-less direct fashion by the Iliad — i.e., that the author of Jubilees knew he was adopting and adapting materials from Homer, not just drawing on themes and phrases that were floating about in the cultural "air." However, when we see that portions of Achilles' speech were often quoted by later writers, it raises the possibility that these portions could become decontextualized and independent units that subsequent authors could utilize in their own texts without any knowledge of their ultimate Homeric origins. Could this be the case in Jubilees? We believe this is doubtful. We have already noted that Esau's speech and its surrounding context share multiple similarities with Achilles' speech and its surrounding contexts. We are not dealing with a single phrase, but a series of phrases and images that are used within a context that bears notable similarities to the Iliadic context and that seem conversant with broader elements in the epic tradition. Beyond this, we should note that some of our examples above did explicitly cite Homer, and those that did not included elements that indicated knowledge of the ultimate Homeric origins of the saying. If Achilles' line regarding faithful oaths did become a decontextualized and isolated speech unit, the aforementioned authors are not evidence of this. This question creates an opportunity to briefly address a broader potential objection to our overall argument. We have noted the similarities between the Jubilees and Iliad passages. While these similarities are undeniable, multiple explanations could be offered to explain their origins. We have opted for an explanation that involves more-or-less direct influence of one text on the 158 other. Others might explain the similarities by arguing that the two texts participate in a common ancient tradition. Indeed, this seems to be what Martin West implies in his brief notes on these passages. Commenting on Achilles' simile he says: This must have been a cliche of oriental rhetoric. We have a report of a letter sent by the twelfth century Elamite king Kutur-Nahhunte to Babylon claiming the vacant throne. Referring to the traditional enmity between the two countries, he writes: "Shall livestock and ravening wolf come to terms? Shall firm-rooted thorn and soaring raven love one another? Shall raven and venomous snake come to terms? [ ] Shall bonegnawing dog come to terms with mongoose? Shall dragon come to terms with bloodletting bandit? What king of Elam is there who provided for Esagila and . . .?" (A. Jeremias, MVAG 21, 1917, 92. 10ff.; trans. Foster, 284.). There are further excellent parallels in Hellenistic Jewish writing, as Jubilees 37.21 f. (Esau to Jacob) . . .96 West also notes Sir 13:16-19 and Isa 11:6-8, 65:25. In light of this, might we be safer to note the similarities and argue that they are non-genetically related examples of broader rhetorical traditions? This is a respectable option. However, we do not believe that it does the evidence justice. It is clear that there was a broader rhetorical tradition in the ancient world in which socially incompatible creatures were invoked to illustrate the incompatibility of two individuals or groups. However, the existence of such a tradition does not necessarily mean that specific examples of the tradition are not genetically related to each other. A comparison of Isaiah's two uses of the tradition with the Elamite letter quoted above shows what two non-genetically related examples of the tradition look like: general similarity in concept and even a shared animal pairing, but otherwise distinct from each other. This is quite different from a comparison of the Isaiah texts and Jubilees or the Iliad passage and Jubilees, where we see multiple, clear parallels. We have too many similarities of different kinds between the Iliad and Jubilees to easily dismiss a 159 genetic explanation. Shared animal imagery, shared distinctive phrases, similar narrative contexts, and evidence of Jubilees' knowledge and use of the epic tradition all point towards a genetic relationship. Interpretability We have spelled out our case for the influence of Homer's Iliad on Esau's speech. Now we can ask the important question: what does this all mean? MacDonald's criterion of interpretability asserts that the hypertext's use of the hypotext should make some kind of sense, and should be intelligible and meaningful. We must ask, then, why the author of Esau's speech would have made use of Achilles' speech as a model, and what this act of re-appropriation means. Our first answer to this is quite simple: the author of Esau's speech found Achilles' speech literarily useful for his own rhetorical purposes. We saw above that Achilles' memorable simile was picked up by later writers who found his poignant statement useful for making their own points about incompatibility or irreconcilability. A later author's use of an earlier work is often driven simply by the fact that they find the earlier work good or useful. When dealing with Jewish appropriations of non-Jewish texts we must be careful that we do not assume that there is always a deeper, complex, or subversive meaning. Such assumptions may be the lingering results of apologetic tendencies in biblical scholarship, where the desired uniqueness of JudeoChristian traditions has driven scholars to pit these traditions against their larger cultural contexts and to interpret evidence of similarity to or influence from these contexts as competitive or 96 West, The East Face of Helicon, 395. 160 subversive.97 It is possible, however, that a Jewish or Christian writer made use of non-Jewish or Christian literary and cultural sources simply because they liked them and found them useful. In the case of Jubilees, Achilles' speech would be a particularly useful model because it is a poignant rejection of an oath. While Achilles is rejecting a potential oath and Esau is rejecting an already sworn oath, Achilles' rejection could easily be adapted to the rhetorical situation of Jubilees' Esau. We have already argued that oath-making and oath-breaking are central themes in Jubilees and that oath-breaking stands at the heart of the book's characterization of Esau. Since this portrayal of Esau as oath-breaker is central to the thrust of the larger episode it makes sense that the oath-rejection content of Achilles' speech would be one of the primary reasons for its adoption and adaptation by Jubilees. We must wonder, however, if something more is at work here. We have argued that Jubilees' adaptation of Achilles' speech is not a decontextualized pilfering of some famous epic lines, but that the context of the speech contains echoes of Achilles and the Iliad. We noted, for example, his dramatic change of heart and his sieging of a city as positive parallels, and his burial by Jacob as a parallel through reversal. Is it possible that Jubilees is not merely proof-texting some useful words, but is in some way casting Esau as Achilles? If we answer affirmatively, what might the source and effect of this association be? Regarding the source of such a connection, we have just argued that Achilles' speech was fitting for Jubilees' attempt to portray Esau as an oath-breaker. Beyond this, a Jewish reader who was aware of the Iliad and traditions about Achilles may have had more general reasons to associate this hero with the biblical Esau. There are some common elements, both substantive 97 Cf. Jonathan Z. Smith, Drudgery Divine. 161 and superficial, which these two figures share. The primary substantive element is the importance of anger to the ways they are characterized within their respective traditions. Both within and outside the Iliad one of the most prominent features of Achilles is his wrath. The Iliad's proem informs us that this ultimately is the topic of the epic: "Sing, goddess, the anger of Peleus' son Achilleus and its devastation, which put pains thousandfold upon the Achaians . . ." (1.1-2). Achilles' wrath is what initiates much of the epic's conflict, as his withdrawal from battle temporarily threatens the success of the Achaians. His wrath leads to the death of his beloved Patroclus, at which time it is re-channeled into a desire for vengeance against Hector and the Trojans, a vengeance which dominates the final six books of the epic as Achilles drives the Trojans back, kills and abuses Hector, and finally lets go of his anger when Priam ransoms Hector's corpse. Anger is central to Achilles' characterization and to the plot of the Iliad. In Hobbs' words, "he is clearly the supreme embodiment of anger in Greek literature."98 His anger is part of a larger constellation of "strong emotional traits," such as "his fierce hatred for his enemies and deep love for his friends, his aptness to be moved to tears; his tendency to rash action . . ."99 His anger and general emotionalism invited critique by the Stoic tradition.100 In Genesis Esau is also characterized by his anger, strong emotion, and impulsiveness. We see this most clearly in Esau's response to Isaac's blessing of Jacob in Gen 27. When he first hears the news in Genesis he "cries out with a great and exceedingly bitter cry" (v. 34). After 98 Angela Hobbs, Plato and the Hero: Courage, Manliness, and the Impersonal Good (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 200. 99 Dorothea Sigel, "Achilles," in Brill's New Pauly: Antiquity, Volume I, A-ARI (ed. Hubert Cancik, Helmuth Schneider, Christine F. Salazar and David E. Orton; Leiden: Brill, 2002), 91. 162 further begging his father for an additional blessing Esau weeps (v. 38), and then turns his sadness and despair into hatred: "Now Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing with which his father had blessed him . . ." (v. 41). Rebekah describes this hatred with wrath/anger language when she tells Jacob to flee "until your brother's fury (hDmEj/qumo/ß) turns away — until your brother's anger (PAa/ojrgh) turns away from you, and he forgets what you have done to him" (vv. 44-45).101 The cries of Esau could easily have reminded a Homerically aware reader of Achilles' own cries,102 his weeping of Achilles' weeping (an emotionalism critiqued by later readers),103 and his wrath of the hero's mhvniß. A more superficial point of contact between the two heroes is the importance of their heels. Jacob of course grasps Esau's heel as they emerge from the womb, causing him to be named bOqSoÅy (from béqDo, "heel"). This heel grasping foreshadows the fact that Jacob will ultimately supplant Esau as the firstborn. The heel/ankle/lower leg of Achilles is also mentioned in the Greek tradition. The English phrase "Achilles heel" and the term "Achilles tendon" both refer to these ancient traditions. Early visual and literary evidence indicates that a wound in the lower leg/ankle was part of traditions about Achilles' death. By the Roman imperial period this tradition was connected with other traditions about an infant Achilles gaining invulnerability when his mother 100 ". . . his rash action makes him, especially to the Stoic philosophers, the counterpart of the wise person, whose actions are determined by reason and intellect (embodied in Odysseus)." Sigel, "Achilles,' 91. 101 This is reiterated in Amos' oracle about Edom: "Thus says the LORD: 'For three transgressions of Edom, and for four, I will not revoke the punishment; because he pursued his brother with the sword, and cast off all pity, and his anger (Pa) tore perpetually, and he kept his wrath (hrbo) for ever'" (Amos 1:11 RSV). While this refers to the people of Edom after the death of Esau, we noted above that the prophetic Edom texts like Amos 1:11 may have been read by Jubilees and other early Jewish readers as references to Esau and the first generation of Edomites. 102 Il. 18.35. 163 Thetis dipped him in the Styx, with his only remaining point of vulnerability being the ankle that she held him by as he was dipped.104 The lower leg thus plays a role in the downfalls of both Esau and Achilles. It seems that some Jewish authors in the Hellenistic period were attuned to such possible connections between figures and themes in their own tradition and figures and themes in the traditions of their neighbors. An interpretatio Graeca/Judaica could not only include arguing for a direct equivalent (Atlas = Enoch), but also portraying figures in such a way that they brought together both Jewish and non-Jewish traditions. An example of this would be the portrayal of Judah in T. Jud. 2, where his prowess as a hunter arguably draws on both Davidic and Herculean themes.105 What would some of the intended effects of an association between Achilles and Esau have been? In our brief discussion of the history of scholarship we noted some other places where scholars have identified connections between Jubilees and the broader Greek scientific and literary traditions. We saw two tendencies there: (1) the creative integration of Jewish and Greek traditions, and (2) the use of Greek traditions to argue for the supremacy of the Jewish people. We might expect to see these tendencies in other parts of Jubilees, including our passage. We have already noted the ways in which a creative integration of traditions does in fact occur in Esau's speech. How might the second tendency be present? 103 Il. 1.346-349; 18.234-235; 24.511-512. For criticism of emotionalism see Plato, Rep. 388a-b. See the discussion of these traditions in Jonathan Burgess, "Achilles' Heel: The Death of Achilles in Ancient Myth," Classical Antiquity 14 (1995): 217-244. 105 Robert A. Kugler, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001), 57. Kugler is citing the argument of M. Philonenko, "Juda et Héraklès," RHPR 50 (1970): 61-62. 104 164 In our discussions of characterization we have identified a level of complexity in the portrayal of Achilles in the Iliad and in his reception in the ancient world. Achilles was the "best of the Achaians" and remained an esteemed figure and paradigmatic hero in much of the interpretive tradition. Yet at the same time there were elements in his Homeric portrayal that invited criticism in the tradition. There is sometimes a tendency in the reception history of an important cultural figure to simplify them, turning them either into a flawless hero or a pure villain. We see this tendency in the reception history of Achilles, but with some interpreters opting for "hero" and others opting for "villain." This may have been one of the reasons why Achilles would be associated with Esau, since Esau is a figure who is both respected (as a descendant of Abraham and Isaac) and denigrated in the broader Jewish tradition.106 But the ambiguity of Achilles may also have made him an opportune character for Jewish appropriation in other, more polemical ways. His complex reception history would allow someone like the author of Jubilees to take advantage of Achilles' darker reception history by associating him with a villain like Esau. Such an association would be seizing on existing critiques of Achilles in the broader culture in order to critique another literary figure. However, because Achilles also remained to many a Greek hero par excellence, taking advantage of these more negative traditions and painting an impious oathbreaker with Achillean strokes could also function as a jab against Greek culture, or against nonJewish culture more generally. Such a cultural polemic makes sense of Jubilees' description of Esau's burial. We noted above that this is a parallel through reversal. In the Iliad Achilles is victorious and mistreats the body 106 Cf. Bruce C. Cresson, "The Condemnation of Edom in Postexilic Judaism," in The Use of the Old Testament in the New and Other Essays: Studies in Honor of William Franklin Stinespring 165 of his adversary. In Jubilees the Achilles figure — Esau — is the vanquished, but receives a proper burial from his adversary, while his own compatriots (his children) abandon his corpse. We saw that Achilles' treatment of Hector's corpse was one of the points of criticism against the hero. Through this reversal, Jacob (and thus the Jews) is shown to be pious in a way that Achilles was not. It is possible that there may be even more specificity in a subtle critique of Achilles in Jubilees. Earlier we noted that Achilles' dragging of Hector's corpse has a later parallel in sources about Alexander the Great. While the historicity of those stories is open for debate, it is still noteworthy that the ancients told a story about Alexander brutally dragging someone from a besieged city that was close to Jewish Palestine, and that this dragging was associated with Achilles' dragging of Hector. This is one example of a larger pattern in the Alexander tradition of associating the conqueror with the best of the Achaians.107 It is quite possible that a second- (ed. James M. Efird; Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1972), 125-148. 107 We noted the parallels between Alexander's treatment of Baetis and Achilles' dragging of Hector in our chapter on Achilles. We also noted the parallels between Achilles' withdrawal and reengagement in combat and Alexander the Great's own withdrawals. We can additionally note that Alexander was alleged to be a descendant of Achilles (Curt. 8.24.26), he fought a river like Achilles (Diodorus 17.97.1-3), and he paid his respects at Achilles' tomb (Arr.1.12.1-2 and Cicero Pro Archia 24). See the primary sources in Waldemar Heckel and J.C. Yardley, Alexander the Great: Historical Texts in Translation (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2004), 208, 210-211. Zeitlin sums up the phenomenon well: "[Alexander's] obsession with Homer manifested itself especially in his innovative taste for reenactment of Iliadic scenes . . . and for role-playing, particularly in regard to Achilles, whom he seems to have consciously chosen as his heroic paradigm . . . On numerous occasions, in fact, Alexander virtually impersonated Achilles in gesture and costume and manipulated his official portraits to conform to a likeness of his favorite hero, whose exploits, excellence, and fame (kleos) he yearned to rival and surpass." Froma I. Zeitlin, "Alexander the Great and Homer," in The Homer Encyclopedia (ed. Margalit Finkelberg; Malden, Mass.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2001), 29. See also Carney, "Artifice and Alexander History," 273-285; Andrew F. Stewart, Faces of Power: Alexander's Image and Hellenistic Politics (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), 78-86; Ada Cohen, "Alexander and Achilles — 166 century B.C. E. Palestinian Jewish author like the writer of Jubilees would have been aware of such an association, and perhaps aware of the specific story of Alexander dragging his foe. Achilles may have represented Greek imperialism not only through his historical role besieging Troy, but also through his appropriation by Alexander the Great. This creates the possibility that Jubilees' association of Achilles and Esau may have some anti-imperial/anti-Alexander tones.108 Two additional points can be made regarding this suggestion. First, Jubilees does contain some strong anti-imperial themes in its presentation of inviolable borders (although it is interesting to note that Japheth is not strongly polemicized).109 Second, we might speculate that the importance of oath-keeping in Jubilees may be related to negative experiences with Alexander the Great's Seleucid successors.110 When read against the background of other early Jewish engagements with Greek texts and traditions an additional function of Jubilees’ use of Homer becomes possible. One of the ways that Jewish authors asserted their cultural pride as a minority group in a cosmopolitan world was by claiming that the culture of their neighbors actually derived from the Jewish tradition. We see this, for instance, in the fragments of Aristobulus, who argues that Greek philosophers and poets were familiar with partial Greek translations of Hebrew scriptures that preceded the Macedonians and 'Mycenaeans'," in The Ages of Homer: A Tribute to Emily Townsend Vermeule (ed. Jane B. Carter and Sarah P. Morris; Austin: University of Texas Press, 1995), 483-505; B. Perrin, "Genesis and Growth of an Alexander-Myth," TAPA 26 (1895): 56-68. 108 We noted above that the Kittim in Jub. 37:10 may have referred to Greek forces sieging the city of Hebron. The association of Alexander the Great with the Kittim (1 Macc 1:1) and the presence of the Kittim at the siege may provide some support for a subtle anti-Alexander polemic. The Animal Apocalypse, which we have seen has some interesting affinities to Jubilees, may offer a negative assessment of Alexander the Great and the Greco-Macedonians in 90:2 (Olson, A New Reading, 202). 109 Jub. 9:14. Cf. The critique of empire in 11:2. 167 Septuagint.111 He even specifically claims that Homer was among those influenced by Torah (5:13-15). We see this dynamic of establishing cultural precedence at work in Jubilees in the story of Abraham and the ravens, which establishes Abraham as the inventor of an important piece of agricultural technology.112 It is quite possible that the author of Jubilees was aware of and willing to engage in this kind of cultural discourse. In his rewriting of the Torah he had the opportunity to demonstrate the derivative nature of the Greeks’ most esteemed literary traditions by fabricating a speech that clearly paralleled a Homeric text. Since both the historical figure of Esau and the giving of the Torah at Sinai preceded both the Trojan war and the writing of Homer’s epics, the most natural explanation for this parallel would be Homer’s knowledge and emulation of Esau’s speech. In our current study we are arguing that Jubilees modeled Esau’s speech on Achilles’ speech. It is possible that the author of Jubilees was making the reverse argument: that Homer was dependent on Jubilees’ version of the Torah. Before moving on attention must briefly be given to another element of MacDonald's criterion of interpretability: does the proposed hypotext offer fresh solutions to issues/problems in the text?113 We have already argued that Esau's seemingly odd transformation, in which he goes from coerced participant in the siege to active aggressor, is a good example where the Iliad as hypotext can provide a solution for an issue in the text. We have also noted that an appeal to the influence of other texts in the Iliad and traditions from the Greek world in general shed some light on some of the uses of animal imagery in Esau's speech. 110 1 Macc 6:61-62; 7:15-18; 9:71; 2 Macc 4:34. Aristobulus, 3:1-2. See the discussion in Gruen, Heritage and Hellenism, 246-253. 112 See our discussion of Cana Werman’s essay and the “culture hero” in chapter one. 113 MacDonald, The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark, 9. 111 168 We have given some attention to sources and motivations for adopting and adapting Achilles' speech, as well as speculated on an identification between Achilles and Esau in Jubilees. It seems clear to us that Jubilees' appropriation of Achilles' speech passes the criterion of interpretability. The proposed hypotext makes sense, and we can identify a number of reasons why the author of Jubilees would have drawn upon it and a number of possible intended effects. 169 CHAPTER FIVE CONCLUSION Summary Our study began with a brief and selective review of the existing scholarship that has addressed the issue of Jubilees in Hellenistic context. Even though this has been a neglected area of research, those scholars who have worked on these questions have shown that it is a promising direction for further study. Taking a cue from these studies, we have ventured a little further down the path by arguing for the influence of a specific text from Homer's Iliad on a specific text in Jubilees. Following this brief history of scholarship we engaged Achilles' speech in Il. 22.260272 and Esau's speech in Jub. 37:18-23 individually, trying to first understand them within their respective literary contexts. Once this foundation was laid, we were able to undertake a comparison of the two texts, using Dennis MacDonald's six criteria in our argument for a genetic relationship between them. Even though the speeches are different from each other in many respects (as we should expect from any two texts), we identified a series of noteworthy similarities in literary setting, rhetorical purpose, rhetorical mechanism, use of imagery, syntax, vocabulary, and characterization. To summarize some of our key points in each of these areas: Literary setting: Both speeches are part of a one-on-one verbal encounter in the midst of a siege of a city, and both end in the death of one of the interlocutors. Esau's initial reluctance to engage in battle followed by a dramatic change of heart parallels Achilles' similar unwillingness to engage in combat until he is transformed by the death of Patroclus. There is a further parallel through reversal, as Achilles defiles the body of the vanquished Hector while Jacob cares for the body of his dead brother. Rhetorical purpose: The purpose of each of the speeches is to communicate the impossibility of any kind of rapprochement between the two parties, and to specifically deny the possibility of an oath. 170 Rhetorical mechanism: Both speeches make use of bestial adynata to express the impossibility of an agreement. Imagery: Both speeches make use of a common animal pairing in their adynata (wolves and lambs). Lions and humans are also part of each speech, although they are paired with different animals. There is also a common psychologization of the creatures, as Achilles' attributes thoughts and intentions to wolves and lambs and Esau attributes similar thoughts and intentions to humans and snakes. Syntax: The syntax of the two opening lines is virtually identical, following the pattern: negative particle + stated or implied copula + noun/dative of possession + conjunction + noun/dative of possession + noun + noun modifier. Vocabulary: Beyond the common animal vocabulary is the shared phrase "faithful oath(s)." We noted the uniqueness of this phrase in the Hebrew tradition, the fact that the Hebrew phrase is a perfect translational equivalence of the Greek phrase apart from the difference in number, and that the phrase occurs in sentences that are almost identical in syntax and concept. Characterization: Both figures are identified with predatory wild animals and are depicted as moving outside the bounds of civilized behavior. Both reject the possibility of oaths. If we take into account the ancient traditions that interpret Achilles' actions towards Hector negatively, then both figures are engaging in impious and unbecoming acts of aggression. In addition to these similarities, we identified other points of contact between Esau's speech and both Homeric epic and the broader Greek tradition. Most notable here is the depiction of Esau as a boar in Jub. 37:24 and the description of both his and his compatriot’s wounds. We then moved past our comparison to argue that it is plausible that the author of Jubilees would have had access to Homer's Iliad and would have been willing to make use of it in his own composition. Our exploration of other ancient appropriations of Achilles' speech demonstrated that it was a well known text in the broader Greco-Roman world and that there were analogous adaptations of it. Finally, we saw that there are a number of good reasons why the author of Jubilees would have adopted and adapted Achilles' words. 171 We believe that the strength and nature of these various parallels and the other supporting evidence we have offered make a case for the Iliad's influence on Jubilees not only plausible, but probable. However, we recognize that not everyone will be convinced by our argument. There remains a level of subjective judgment when it comes to allusions within texts, and different readers will naturally have different evidentiary thresholds. Basic assumptions on the larger questions related to Hellenism and Judaism will also play an important role in how one assesses a study like ours. Even if our argument for influence does not prove convincing to all, we contend that there is still value in such a comparative endeavor and that the similarities between our two texts still call for further examination of Jubilees within a broader Hellenistic literary context. Directions for Further Research We will close our study by giving attention to two possible directions for further research. If what we have argued is correct, then one research trajectory will look for other places where Jubilees exhibits influence from specific non-Jewish Greek texts. Such a study would naturally give priority to identifying other traces of Homeric influence, but could also give attention to other works, such as Hesiod's Works and Days.1 The influence of Homer in Jubilees 37 and the influence of Greek geographical traditions in Jubilees 8-9 indicate that the author of Jubilees and/or his sources may have been exposed to a range of Greek literature and traditions, including but not limited to epic and geographical texts, which means that a full evaluation of Jubilean dependence on Greek texts would need to be broad in scope. 1 Compare Jub. 23:25 and Works and Days 181. 172 Once enough data from this kind of study is amassed we may be able to make some larger conclusions about the nature and purpose of Jubilees' rewritten history as a whole. If further research continues to find places where Jubilees exhibits knowledge and use of non-Jewish Greek texts and traditions, then we will need to ask some serious questions about what our author was trying to accomplish in his retelling of Israel's earliest history. In answering such questions it may prove helpful to analyze Jubilees in conjunction with other Jewish rewritten histories that scholars have more readily interpreted within their Hellenistic contexts. Perhaps what Jubilees is attempting to do is not all that different from what we see in the works of Theodotus, Ezekiel the Tragedian, or Josephus. In these authors we see a creative integration of texts and traditions that are firmly rooted in the history of Israel with themes, traditions, and styles that are firmly rooted in the Hellenic world. These enterprises were arguably not primarily apologetic in nature, but were a way for Jews to appropriate, make sense of, and express their heritage in a way that not only made sense within their contemporary cosmopolitan cultural contexts, but that was literarily on par (so they hoped) with the esteemed art forms of their day. We may find that Jubilees was attempting something similar.2 While a continued focus on the influence of specific texts will be interesting and worthwhile, another research trajectory might ultimately prove even more fruitful. One of our hopes for this present study is that it will help challenge lingering assumptions in the academy about the relationship between Second Temple Palestinian Jewish literature and the broader Hellenistic world. Rather than seeing "Judaism" as something that is distinct from "Hellenism," we should 2 Recall our discussion and critique in chapter one of Cana Werman's contrast between Jubilees' interaction with Hellenic culture and that of other Jewish writers. 173 see Judaism in the Greek period as part of a broader Hellenistic cultural landscape.3 At an institutional level, the study of early Jewish texts should be found within classics departments, and the study of texts like Homer, Hesiod, and Euripides should be found within biblical studies and Jewish studies departments. While our study of the influence of the Iliad on Jubilees hopefully helps in a small way to chip away at the walls that sometimes separate these worlds, the way we have framed our study could actually contribute to maintaining the conceptual separation between them. Focusing on the influence of a particular non-Jewish Greek text on a particular early Jewish text can give the impression that the Jewish and Hellenistic worlds are still distinct cultural entities that happen to occasionally impinge on each other. The phrase "Hellenistic influence," which we have admittedly used in our study, can perpetuate this conceptual distinction as it implies that "Hellenism" is a distinct entity which can influence "Judaism." With this in mind, we suggest that the most fruitful future research will not focus on specific points of "influence," but will rather start from the assumption that Jubilees is in fact a Hellenistic literary artifact. From that starting point we can then explore the ways in which this particular Hellenistic writing reflects, participates in, and contributes to broader cultural conversations and developments in the ancient Mediterranean world. Such an approach might bear some similarity to Jonathan Z. Smith's proposed method for the comparison of the dyingrising god motif in early Christianity and other religions of late antiquity, which emphasizes 3 "'Judaism' and 'Hellenism' were neither competing systems nor incompatible concepts." Erich Gruen, Heritage and Hellenism: The Reinvention of Jewish Tradition (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), xiv. 174 analogous processes rather than fixating on the idea of "borrowing." He is worth quoting at length here: This is to argue that we must see the development of a richer and more widely spread notion of the "dying and rising" of the central cult figure, alongside of the development of the implications of this for the cult member, in second to fourth century Christianities as well as in the other contemporary religions of Late Antiquity, as analogous processes, responding to parallel kinds of religious situations rather than continuing to construct genealogical relations between them . . . . . . the question for historically oriented comparison can be reformulated, although its answer will be the work of a generation. If an increased focus on the 'dying and rising' of the central cult figure and some notion of a relationship between the individual cult member and the destiny of the deity is a parallel innovation of the late second to fifth centuries, in both the Late Antique cults of Attis and Adonis and of Jesus, rather than a "survival" of an archaic element in these cults, then the issue becomes one of analogy (possibly even of shared causality) and no longer one of genealogy. Quite different older traditions, of varying degrees of antiquity and setting, have been reinterpreted in a similar manner; possibilities latent in the various traditions . . . have moved to centre-stage and have become manifest. The question is not "which is first," but rather "why both, at more or less the same time?"4 Future research might thus explore the ways that Jubilees’ appropriation of the Genesis ancestors and the revelation on Sinai reflect and contribute to broader issues and movements in the Hellenistic world. It is our hope that studies like the present one can help establish that Jubilees was conversant with non-Jewish literature, thus making both of the aforementioned categories of future research more plausible for historical scholarship. However, even if our thesis that Jubilees has been influenced by the Iliad is rejected, our study can still provide an impetus for the second category 4 Jonathan Z. Smith, Drudgery Divine: On the Comparison of Early Christianities and the Religions of Late Antiquity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990), 112-114. 175 of research, which would not depend as heavily on arguments for "influence." If we dismiss a genetic relationship between Esau and Achilles' speeches, the similarities between them are still undeniable. The presence of such striking parallels between two texts that do not have a genetic relationship would illustrate that the literary worlds of Jubilees and Homeric epic are not as far apart as some might initially expect. Whether the author of Jubilees or modern scholars have recognized it or not, this Palestinian Jewish composition participates in literary and cultural discourses that extend beyond the borders and boundaries of Jerusalem. 176 BIBLIOGRAPHY Alden, Maureen. “Lions in Paradise: Lion Similes in the Iliad and the Lion Cubs of Il. 18.318-22.” The Classical Quarterly 55 (2005): 335-343. Arnott, W. Geoffrey. “Korax, Korakiskos.” Pages 163-167 in Birds in the Ancient World from A to Z. London: Routledge, 2007. Alexander, P.S. “Notes on the 'Imago Mundi' of the Book of Jubilees." Journal of Jewish Studies 33 (1982): 197-213. ————— “A Typology of Intertextual Relations Based on the Manchester-Durham Typology of Anonymous and Pseudepigraphic Jewish Literature of Antiquity.” Pages 6684 in Between Text and Text: The Hermeneutics of Intertextuality in Ancient Cultures and Their Afterlife in Medieval and Modern Times. Edited by Michaela Bauks, Wayne Horowitz, and Armin Lange. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013. Bachmann, Veronika and Isaac W. Oliver. “The Book of Jubilees: A Bibliography, 1850Present.” Pages 441-468 in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees. Edited by Gabriele Boccaccini and Giovanni Ibba. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009. Barclay, John M.G. Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora: From Alexander to Trajan (323 B.C. E.-117 C. E.). Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996. Bassett, Samuel Eliot. “Achilles’ Treatment of Hector’s Body.” Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association. 64 (1933): 41-65. Beentjes, Pancratius C. The Book of Ben Sira in Hebrew: A Text Edition of all extant Hebrew Manuscripts and a Synopsis of all Parallel Hebrew Ben Sira Texts. Leiden: Brill, 1997. Berlin, Adele. Zephaniah: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. The Anchor Bible 25a. New York: Doubleday, 1994. Bolyki, Ja/nos. “Burial as an Ethical Task in the Book of Tobit, in the Bible and in the Greek Tragedies.” Pages 89-101 in The Book of Tobit: Text, Tradition, Theology: Papers of the First International Conference on the Deuteronomical Books, Pa/pa, Hungary, 20-21 May, 2004. Leiden: Brill, 2005. 177 Brin, Gershon. “The Idea and Sources of Esau’s Speech in Jubilees 37 according to 4QpapJubileesh, Unit 2, Col. IV” (in Hebrew). Pages 17-24 in Studies in Bible and Exegesis, Vol. VI: Yehuda Otto Komlosh — In Memoriam. Edited by Rimon Kasher and Moshe A. Zippor. Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 2002. Bryan, David. Cosmos, Chaos and the Kosher Mentality. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995. Büchler, Adolphe. “Studies in the Book of Jubilees.” Revue des Études Juives 82 (1926): 253274 ————— “Traces des idées et des coutumes hellénistiques dans le Livre des Jubilés.” Revue des Études Juives 89 (1930): 321-348. Burgess, Jonathan. “Achilles’ Heel: the Death of Achilles in Ancient Myth.” Classical Antiquity 14 (Oct., 1995): 217-244. Burgess, R.W. “Another Look at Sosates, The ‘Jewish Homer.’” Journal for the Study of Judaism 44 (2013): 195-217. Campbell, Tyler A. and David B. Long, “Feral Swine Damage and Damage Management in Forested Ecosystems.” Forest and Ecology Management 257 (2009): 2319-2326. Carney, Elizabeth. “Artifice and Alexander History.” Pages 263-285 in Alexander the Great in Fact and Fiction. Edited by A.B. Bosworth and E.J. Baynham. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Caubet, Annie. “Animals in Syro-Palestinian Art.” Pages 211-234 in A History of the Animal World in the Ancient Near East. Edited by Billie Jean Collins. Leiden: Brill, 2002. Charles, R.H. The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament in English: With Introductions and Critical and Explanatory Notes to the Several Books. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1913. ————— The Book of Jubilees or The Little Genesis: Translated from the Editor’s Ethiopic Text and Edited, with Introduction, Notes, and Indices. London: Adam & Charles Black, 1902. 178 Charlesworth, James H. The Good and Evil Serpent: How a Universal Symbol Became Christianized. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010. Clarke, Michael. “Between Lions and Men: Images of the Hero in the Iliad.” Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 36 (1995), 137-159. Cohen, Ada. “Alexander and Achilles — Macedonians and ‘Mycenaeans.’” Pages 483-505 in The Ages of Homer: A Tribute to Emily Townsend Vermeule. Edited by Jane B. Carter and Sarah P. Morris. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1995. Cohen, Shaye J.D. “Sosates the Jewish Homer.” Harvard Theological Review 74, 4 (1981): 391-396. Collins, John J. and Gregory E. Sterling. Hellenism in the Land of Israel. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2001. Collins, John J. “The Epic of Theodotus and the Hellenism of the Hasmoneans.” Harvard Theological Review 73 (1980): 91-104. Conybeare, F.C., J. Rendel Harris, and Agnes Smith Lewis. The Story of Ah!ik!ar from the Syriac, Arabic, Armenian, Ethiopic, Greek and Slavonic Versions. London: C.J. Clay and Sons, 1898. Coon, Raymond Huntington. “The Reversal of Nature as a Rhetorical Figure.” Indiana University Studies 80 (1923): 3-20. Crawford, Sidnie White. Rewriting Scripture in Second Temple Times. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008. Cresson, Bruce C. “The Condemnation of Edom in Postexilic Judaism.” Pages 125-148 in The Use of the Old Testament in the New and Other Essays: Studies in Honor of William Franklin Stinespring. Edited by James M. Efird. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1972. Daise, Michael. “Samaritans, Seleucids, and the Epic of Theodotus.” Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha 17 (1998): 25-51. Danforth, Loring M. The Death Rituals of Rural Greece. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982. 179 De Jong, Irene J.F. Homer: Iliad. Book XXII. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. de Jonge, Marinus. The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Study of Their Text, Composition and Origin. Assen: Van Gorcum, 1975. Dickey, Eleanor. Ancient Greek Scholarship: A Guide to Finding, Reading, and Understanding Scholia, Commentaries, Lexica, and Grammatical Treatises, from their Beginnings to the Byzantine Period. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Doran, Robert. “Theodotus.” Page 1305 in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism. Edited by John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010. Durham, John I. Exodus. Waco, Tex.: Word Books, 1987. Endres, John C. Biblical Interpretation in the Book of Jubilees. Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1987. Erbse, Hartmut. Scholia Graeca in Homeri Iliadem (Scholia Vetera) Volume 5. Berolini: Walter de Gruyter, 1977. Erho, Ted. “New Ethiopic Witnesses to some Old Testament Pseudepigrapha.” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies. (2013): 1-23. Eshel, Hanan. The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Hasmonean State. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008. Eusebius and Edwin Hamilton Gifford. Eusebii Pamphili Evangelicae praeparationis libri XV. Oxonii: Typographeo Academico, 1903. Eusebius. The Preparation for the Gospel. Vol. 2. Trans. Edwin Hamilton Gifford. Oxford: Clarendon, 1903. Fallon F. “Theodotus.” Pages 785-893 in The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha Volume 2: Expansions of the ‘Old Testament’ and Legends, Wisdom and Philosophical Literature, Prayers, Psalms, and Odes, Fragments of Lost Judeo-Hellenistic Works. New York: Doubleday, 1985. Feldman, Louis. “Hengel’s Judaism and Hellenism in Retrospect.” Journal of Biblical Literature 96 (1977): 371-82. ————— “How Much Hellenism in Jewish Palestine?” Hebrew Union College Annual. 57 (1986): 83-111. 180 ————— “How Much Hellenism in the Land of Israel?” Pages 71-101 in Judaism and Hellenism Reconsidered. Leiden: Brill, 2006. ————— Remember Amalek! Vengeance, Zealotry, and Group Destruction in the Bible According to Philo, Pseudo-Pilo, and Josephus. Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 2004. Finkelberg, Margalit. “Canonising and Decanonising Homer: Reception of the Homeric Poems in Antiquity and Modernity.” Pages 15-28 in Homer and the Bible in the Eyes of Ancient Interpreters. Edited by Maren Niehoff. Leiden: Brill, 2012. Fletcher, Judith. Performing Oaths in Classical Greek Drama. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Freudenthal, J. Alexander Polyhistor und die von ihm ehaltenen Reste jüdischer und samaritanischer Geschischtswerke. Breslau: Grass, 1874. Fries, Carl. “Das Buch Tobit und die Telemachie.” ZWTh 53 (1911): 54-87. Frolov, Serge. “Homeric and Ancient Near Eastern Intertextuality in 1 Samuel 17.” Journal of Biblical Literature 130 (2011): 451-471. Garner, Paul. “Pick Sticking Injuries are no Joke.” British Medical Journal 311 (1995): 878. Goldberg, David M. The Curse of Ham: Race and Slavery in Early Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003. Goldstein, Jonathan A. “Alexander and the Jews.” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research 59 (1993): 59-101. Gordis, Robert. “‘Homeric’ Books in Palestine.” The Jewish Quarterly Review 38 (1948): 359-368. Grabbe, Lester. Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian; Volume One: The Persian and Greek Periods. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992. Greenfield, Jonas C. “The Wisdom of Ahiqar.” Pages 43-52 in Wisdom in Ancient Israel: Essays in Honour of J.A. Emerton. Edited by John Day, Robert P. Gordon and H.G.M. Williamson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Gruen, Erich. Heritage and Hellenism: The Reinvention of Jewish Tradition. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998. 181 Hanneken, Todd R. The Subversion of the Apocalypses in the Book of Jubilees. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012. Harrill, J. Albert. “Divine Judgment against Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5:1-11): A Stock Scene of Perjury and Death.” Journal of Biblical Literature 130 (2011): 351-369. Heath, John. The Talking Greeks: Speech, Animals, and the Other in Homer, Aeschylus, and Plato. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Hengel, Martin. Judaism and Hellenism: Studies in Their Encounter in Palestine During the Early Hellenistic Period. Translated by John Bowden. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974. Hengel, Martin. “Qumran and Hellenism.” Pages 46-56 in Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by John J. Collins and Robert Kugler. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000. Hillier, Richard. Arrator on the Acts of the Apostles: A Baptismal Commentary. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993. Himmelfarb, Martha. “Midrash Vayissa’u: A New Translation and Introduction.” Pages 143159 in Old Testament Pseudepigrapha: More Noncanonical Scriptures. Volume 1. Edited by Richard Bauckham, James R. Davila, and Alexander Panayotov. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013. Hobbs, Angela. Plato and the Hero: Courage, Manliness, and the Impersonal Good. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000. Hock, Ronald F. “Homer in Greco-Roman Education.” Pages 56-77 in Mimesis and Intertextuality in Antiquity and Christianity. Edited by Dennis R. MacDonald. Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2001. Holladay, William L. Jeremiah 1: A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah Chapters 1-25. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986. Hollander, H.W. and M. de Jonge. The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Commentary. Leiden: Brill, 1985. Hölscher, Gustav. Drei Erdkarten: Ein Beitrag zur Erkenntnis des hebräischen Altertums. Sitzungsberichte der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften, philosophischhistorische Klasse 1944/1948, 3; Heidelberg: Carl Winter, Universitätsverlag, 1949. 182 Homer. The Iliad. Translated by Richmond Lattimore. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011. Hossfeld, Frank Lothar and Erich Zenger. Psalms 3: A Commentary on Psalms 101-150. Translated by Linda M. Maloney. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011. Isaac, Benjamin H. The Invention of Racism in Classical Antiquity. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004. Jones, Peter. Homer’s Iliad: A Commentary on Three Translations. London: Bristol Classical Press, 2003. Karavites, Peter (Panayiotis). Promise-Giving and Treaty-Making: Homer and the Near East. Leiden: Brill, 1992. Kim, Jinyo. The Pity of Achilles: Oral Style and the Unity of the Iliad. Lanham, Maryland: Rowman & Littlefield, 2000. King, Katherine Callen. Achilles: Paradigms of the War Hero from Homer to the Middle Ages. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987. Kitts, Margo. Sanctified Violence in Homeric Society: Oath-Making Rituals and Narratives in the Iliad. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Kleinig, John W. Leviticus. St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2003. Kossatz-Deissmann. “Achilleus.” Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae. Volume 1. Edited by H. C. Ackerman and J.-R. Gisler. Zurich: Artemis Verlag, 1981. Kugel, James L. Traditions of the Bible: a Guide to the Bible as it was at the Start of the Common Era. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998. ————— A Walk Through Jubilees: Studies in the Book of Jubilees and the World of its Creation. Leiden: Brill, 2012. Kugler, Robert A. The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001. 183 Leslau, Wolf. Concise Dictionary of Ge’ez (Classical Ethiopic). Wiesbaden: O. Harrassowitz, 1989. Levine, Baruch. Leviticus. Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1989. Lieberman, Saul. Greek in Jewish Palestine; Hellenism in Jewish Palestine. New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1994. Lim, Timothy H. “Qumran, Multilingualism, and Biblical Interpretation.” Pages 57-73 in Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by John J. Collins and Robert Kugler. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000. Livneh, Atar. “Can the Boar Change Its Skin? Esau’s Speech in Jubilees 37:18-23.” Henoch 34 (2012): 75-94. Lonsdale, Steven H. Creatures of Speech: Lion, Herding, and Hunting Similes in the Iliad. Stuttgart: B.G. Teubner, 1990. Lucian. Lucian: Volume 3. Translated by A.M. Harmon. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1960. MacDonald, Dennis R. Christianizing Homer: The Odyssey, Plato, and the Acts of Andrew. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994. ————— Does the New Testament Imitate Homer?: Four Cases from the Acts of the Apostles. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003. ————— The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000. ————— “Introduction.” Pages 1-9 in Mimesis and Intertextuality in Antiquity and Christianity. Edited by Dennis R. MacDonald. Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2001. —————“Tobit and the Odyssey.” Pages 11-40 in Mimesis and Intertextuality in Antiquity and Christianity. Edited by Dennis R. MacDonald. Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2001. 184 MacKenzie, R.A.F. Sirach. Wilmington, Del.: Michael Glazier, 1983. Martin, Richard. “Glory.” Pages 315-317 in The Homer Encyclopedia Edited by Margalit Finkelberg. Malden, Mass.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2001. Mastronarde, Donald J. Introduction to Attic Greek. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. Maximus Tyrius. Dissertations of Maximus Tyrius. Volume 2. Translated by Thomas Taylor. London: C. Wittingham, 1804. McCarthy, Dennis J. Treaty and Covenant. Analecta Biblica 21a. Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1978. Mendels, Doron. The Land of Israel as a Political Concept in Hasmonean Literature. Tübingen: Mohr, 1987. Michelakis, Pantelis. Achilles in Greek Tragedy Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Middendorp, Th. Die Stellung Jesu Ben Siras zwischen Judentum und Hellenismus. Leiden: Brill, 1973. Milgrom, Jacob. Leviticus 1-16: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. New York: Doubleday, 1991. Mitchell, Margaret M. “Homer in the New Testament?” The Journal of Religion 83 (2003): 244-260. Moulton, Carroll. Similes in the Homeric Poems. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1977. Mueller, Martin. The Iliad. London: Allen and Unwin, 1984. Naeh, Shlomo. “Reception, in Rabbinic Judaism.” Pages 716-717 in The Homer Encyclopedia. Edited by Margalit Finkelberg. Malden, Mass.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2001. Nickelsburg, George W.E. 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1-36; 81-108. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001. 185 Nickelsburg, George W.E. “Tobit, Genesis, and the Odyssey: a Complex Web of Intertextuality.” Pages 41-55 in Mimesis and Intertextuality in Antiquity and Christianity. Edited by Dennis R. MacDonald. Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2001. O’Leary, Anne M. Matthew’s Judaization of Mark: Examined in the Context of the Use of Sources in Graeco-Roman Antiquity. London: T&T Clark, 2006. Oliver, Isaac W. and Veronika Bachmann. “The Book of Jubilees: An Annotated Bibliography from the First German Translation of 1850 to the Enoch Seminar of 2007.” Henoch 31 (2009): 123-164. Olson, Daniel C. A New Reading of the Animal Apocalypse of 1 Enoch: “All Nations Shall be Blessed.” Leiden: Brill, 2013. Park, Sejin. Pentecost and Sinai: the Festival of Weeks as a Celebration of the Sinai Event. New York: T&T Clark, 2008. Payne Smith, R. and Jessie Payne Smith Margoliouth. A Compendious Syriac Dictionary, Founded upon the Thesaurus Syriacus of R. Payne Smith D.D. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1903. Perrin, B. “Genesis and Growth of an Alexander-Myth.” Transactions of the American Philological Association 26 (1895): 56-68. Philonenko, M. “Juda et Héraklès.” Revue d’Histoire et de Philosophie Religieuses 50 (1970): 61-62. Philostratus the Elder and Philostratus the Younger. Philostratus, Imagines; Callistratus, Descriptions. Translated by Arthur Fairbanks. Loeb Classical Library 256. London: W. Heinemann, 1931. Plescia, Joseph. The Oath and Perjury in Ancient Greece. Tallahassee: Florida State University Press, 1970. Postlethwaite, Norman. Homer’s Iliad: A Commentary on the Translation of Richmond Lattimore. Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2000. 186 Ready, Jonathan L. Character, Narrator, and Simile in the Iliad. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011. Richardson, Nicholas. The Iliad: a Commentary (Vol. VI). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Roberts, J.J.M. Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah. Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1991. Salazar, Christine F. The Treatment of War Wounds in Graeco-Roman Antiquity. Leiden: Brill, 2000. Sanders, Jack T. Ben Sira and Demotic Wisdom. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1983. Sandmel, Samuel. “Parallelomania.” Journal of Biblical Literature 81 (1962): 1-13. Sandnes, Karl Olav. The Gospel ‘According to Homer and Virgil’: Cento and Canon. Leiden: Brill, 2011. ————— “Imitatio Homeri? An Appraisal of Dennis R. MacDonald’s ‘Mimesis Criticism.’” Journal of Biblical Literature 124 (2005): 715-732. Schäfer, Peter. Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient World. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997. Schechter, S. and C. Taylor. The Wisdom of Ben Sira. Cambridge: Cambridge, 1899. Schoder, Raymond V., Vincent C. Horrigan, and Leslie Collins Edwards. A Reading Course in Homeric Greek: Book One. Newburyport, MA: Focus Publishing, 2004. Scott, James M. “Geographic Aspects of Noahic Materials in the Scrolls at Qumran.” Pages 368-381 in The Scrolls and the Scriptures: Qumran Fifty Years after. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997. ————— Geography in Early Judaism and Christianity: The Book of Jubilees. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. ————— On Earth as in Heaven: the Restoration of Sacred Time and Sacred Space in the Book of Jubilees. Leiden: Brill, 2005. 187 Scurlock, Joann. “Animal Sacrifice in Ancient Mesopotamian Religion.” Pages 389-403 in A History of the Animal World in the Ancient Near East. Leiden: Brill, 2002. Segal, Charles. The Theme of the Mutilation of the Corpse in the Iliad. Leiden: Brill, 1971. Sigel, Dorothea. “Achilles.” Pages 89-94 in Brill’s New Pauly: Antiquity, Volume I, A-ARI. Edited by Hubert Cancik, Helmuth Schneider, Christine F. Salazar and David E. Orton. Leiden: Brill, 2002. Skehan, Patrick W. and Alexander A. Di Lella. The Wisdom of Ben Sira: A New Translation with Notes. New York: Doubleday, 1987. Smith, Jonathan Z. Drudgery Divine: On the Comparison of Early Christianities and the Religions of Late Antiquity. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1990. Stewart, Andrew F. Faces of Power: Alexander’s Image and Hellenistic Politics. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. Sweeney, Marvin A. Zephaniah: A Commentary. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003. Swift, Jonathan. “Thoughts on Various Subjects, Moral and Diverting.” 1706. Pages 515-520 in The Works of Jonathan Swift. Edited by Laing Purves. Edinburgh: William P. Nimmo, 1869. Tarbell, Frank B. “Greek Ideas as to the Effect of Burial on the Future of the Soul” Transactions of the American Philological Assocation 15 (1884): 36-45. Tiller, Patrick. A Commentary on the Animal Apocalypse of 1 Enoch. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1993. Tuffin, Paul. “The Whitening Crow: Some ADUNATA in the Greek Tradition.” Epeteris tou Kentrou Epistemonikon Ereunon 6 (1972-1973): 79-92. VanderKam, James C. and J.T. Milik. “223-224. 4QpapJubh.” Pages 95-140 in Qumran Cave 4 VIII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 1. Edited by H.W. Attridge, T. Elgvin, J. Milik, S. Olyan, J. Strugnell, E. Tov, J. VanderKam, and S. White, in consultation with J. C. VanderKam. DJD XIII. Oxford: Clarendon, 1994. 188 VanderKam, James C. The Book of Jubilees. 2 volumes. Scriptores Aethiopici 87-88. Lovanii: E. Peeters, 1989. —————The Book of Jubilees. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001. ————— “Covenant and Biblical Interpretation in Jubilees 6.” Pages 92-104 in The Dead Sea Scrolls Fifty Years After Their Discovery: Proceedings of the Jerusalem Congress, July 20-25, 1997. Edited by Lawrence H. Schiffman, Emanuel Tov, and James C. VanderKam. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society in Cooperation with the Shrine of the Book, Israel Museum, 2000. ————— “Putting them in their Place: Geography as an Evaluative Tool.” Pages 46-69 in Pursuing the Text: Studies in Honor of Ben Zion Wacholder on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday. Edited by John C. Reeves and John Kampen. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994. ————— “The Scriptural Setting of the Book of Jubilees.” Dead Sea Discoveries 13 (2006): 61-72. ————— Textual and Historical Studies in the Book of Jubilees. Missoula: Scholars Press, 1977. Waltke, Bruce K. and M. O’Connor. An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990. Waschke, G. “Nax,” Pages 197-207 in Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament: Volume 12. Edited by G. Johannes Botterweck, Helmer Ringgren, and Heinz-Josef Faby. Translated by Douglas W. Stott. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003. Wenham, Gordon J. The Book of Leviticus. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979. Werman, Cana. “Jubilees in the Hellenistic Context.” Pages 133-158 in Heavenly Tablets: Interpretation, Identity and Tradition in Ancient Judaism. Edited by Lynn LiDonnici and Andrea Lieber. Leiden: Brill, 2007. 189 West, Martin L. The East Face of Helicon: West Asiatic Elements in Greek Poetry and Myth. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997. ————— Homeri Ilias. Monachii: Saur, 2000. Willcock, Malcolm M. The Iliad of Homer: Books XIII-XXIV. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1984. Wilson, John R. “Negative !"#$ Clauses and the Rhetoric of Achilles.” Glotta 69, (1991): 175-183. Wintermute, O.S. “Jubilees: A New Translation and Introduction.” Pages 35-142 in The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha Volume 2: Expansions of the ‘Old Testament’ and Legends, Wisdom and Philosophical Literature, Prayers, Psalms, and Odes, Fragments of Lost Judeo-Hellenistic Works. New York: Doubleday, 1985. Wright, Benjamin. “Ben Sira on Kings and Kingship.” Pages 76-91 in Jewish Perspectives on Hellenistic Rulers. Edited by Tessa Rajak, Sarah Pearce, James Aitken, and Jennifer Dines. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007. Wright, R.B. “Psalms of Solomon: A New Translation and Introduction.” Pages 639-670 in The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha Volume 2: Expansions of the ‘Old Testament’ and Legends, Wisdom and Philosophical Literature, Prayers, Psalms, and Odes, Fragments of Lost Judeo-Hellenistic Works. New York: Doubleday, 1985. Yardley, J.C. Alexander the Great: Historical Texts in Translation. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2004. 190 APPENDIX I NOTES ON THE TEXT OF JUBILEES 37:17-25 4QpapJubh 2.4.1-15 (// Jub. 37:17-38:1a)1 [ ] (1) [h]«oØwbCb h[tafj ] (2) [Md]|ah ynbl ØNØya[ wl rmayw waCyo hno zaw .htfpCn hkybal htobCn rCa tobw] (3) hlal «h«l[a wCqby Mwy lwkw .Mlwo do wobCn obCh rCa hnm]|a»n howbC MyC|j[nlw] (4) [d]|o yØn|b[ taw ytwa ynanCt htaw .wrx taw wbywa ta C]ya wgwrhy hkkyh |h[or] (5) Kl rb|d[m ykwna rCa hlah yrbd ta omC .hwja h]|km«o tw«C|o|l Nyaw M[lwo] (6) [ly]|a ynrqk «MØy»n[rq wC]warb wloyw K«r[y rmxk wroC taw wrw]|o ta ryzjh «KØw|p|h[y Ma] (7) ØwCoy [Maw .yl ]|ja htyh a»w[l yk Nmam MydC wdrpn .hwja ]hkmo h|Coa za »N[waxw] (8) [byfyh]«l [Mhylo] Mbl Øyhyh»y[ Maw Mhl qxhw Mlkwa ytlb]|l Mylf^h^ |M|o «MlC |M[ybaz^h^] (9) [dmxy Maw] ØN[y]|m|amw or rwC[l hyra hyhy Maw .MwlC hkylo ]Øyblb hyhy za |M[hylo] (10) yk od [za t]|aqk Mybrwoh[ wnybly Maw .hkmo MwlC hCoa z]|a |d|j|a l»w|o «C|r|j[w wmo] (11) .MwlC |h[kl N]»yaw hkynb Myt|r[knw hta trkh .MwlC hkmo] |h|C[oaw hktwa y]|t[bha] (12) qjdmw a|b[w ]»wgrwhl[ wCpn lwkmw wylo wblm waCyo orh yk bwqoy har rCakw] (13) wynbl rm«a[ z]|a .wnmm[ gwsy awlw wtwa grwhhw wtwa rqwdh jmwrh la abh ryzjk] (14) »w|hØyba bw[qoy la hdwhy rbd Nk yrjaw .wyrbj lwk low wylo lpnthl wydbolw] (15) 1 Transcription taken from J.C. VanderKam and J.T. Milik, “223-224. 4QpapJubh,” in Qumran Cave 4 VIII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 1 (ed. H.W. Attridge et al; DJD XIII; Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), 118. 191 Transcription of the Syriac Version of Jub. 37:17-252 m( lLMw )rG) l( mQ qLSw )trdd )(r8t dX) )twBYhrB )dXM (17) yttN) l( yN)YBtd tYt)d )Y)YwB rYP$ )M hL rM)w yhwX) wSY( oM oYN*Bz oYtrt kM)LwkwB)L tYMY)d )tM8wM oYN) oYLh .ttYMd .ktM8wMB tY+X .nwhtwM mdQ )tM8wM )tww8XLw )$N*YNBL tYL rM)w bwQOYL wSYO )NOw (18) .)t$8YB oYLhL oYLh oYOB mwYLK )L) .)d*dXL nwM)Nd )tr8Yr$ kMO dBOML yL tYLw .mLOL )MdO yNB8Lw yL kYN*B w tN) )BB8dLOB (19) yBLB tY) )L )t$YB )N) .yX) dBOt )L bwQOY rM)w : )ML$ OrP[w )tY*SK )zXw )hL) tY)d Od .)t$YB yLO b$Xtt )L .kYLO )BhrwSB mdM dBOt )Lw kzGwrd )tMX xYN) .yhwd8B[O kY) dX lKL : )t$YB kYLO )tYtw n) .kL )N) rM)[d oYLh OM$ tY)Y$Q rM])w wSYO yNP oYdYh (20) )LY)d )tNr8Q h$YrB oQ8SN n)w )KYKr )rM(L hK$M )rYzX pLX[M .)twX) kM( )N) dB[( oYdYh nwhL nw$)BN )Lw )r8M) m( )ML$ )B8)d nwdB(N n)w (21) .)rYN hM( dGN{w )rwtL )rBX )Yr) )whN n)w (22) : )ML$ kM( dB() oYdYh )Q8Q kY) )SQr8Q nwrwXN n)w (23) yhwL( wSY( )t]) htY(rt h[LKBw hBL hLKBd bwQ(Y )zX} dKw (24) .hL+QNd .yhwL( nwQPNd yhwN*BL bwQ(Y rM]) oYdYh (25) 2 Transcription taken from Vanderkam, The Book of Jubilees: A Critical Edition, 291-292. 192 Notes Here we offer some selective notes and observations on the Hebrew, Syriac, and Ethiopic versions of our passage and some immediately surrounding verses. We focus on comparing and contrasting the extant Hebrew text with the Syriac and Ethiopic, as well as the disagreements between the Syriac and Ethiopic texts in places for which Hebrew evidence is lacking. v. 17: Very little of this verse is preserved in the Hebrew. The verse originally occupied lines 1-3, but we are left with only a handful of letters from the end of line 2: [h]«oØwbCb h[tafj ("sin against the oath"). The Ethiopic !"#$ % &'() ("transgress from the oath") and the Syriac ktM8wMB tY+X ("sin against your oaths") have general agreement with what we can reconstruct from the Hebrew, although the Ethiopic speaks of transgressing/departing from the oath rather than sinning against it and the Syriac pluralizes "oath" while adding a pronominal suffix. The Syriac and Ethiopic are in fairly close agreement for the rest of the passage where the Hebrew is lacking, with word-for-word correspondence in some places. For example: rM)w yhwX) wSY( m( lLMw ("And he spoke with Esau his brother and said . . .") and *+,-. % /#0 % &12 % 345 % *67 ("And he spoke with his brother Esau and said . . ."). There are, however, a few differences. The Syriac is slightly more expansive at points. For instance, it opens with a description of the hastiness with which Jacob closed the gates ()twBYhrB )dXM; "At once he hastily . . .") which has no parallel in the Ethiopic. The Syriac also has Jacob "go up" (qLSw) before he "stands" (mQ) on the tower while the Ethiopic 193 merely has him stand (!"). Despite these small expansions, we do witness the Syriac tendency of abbreviation in the omission of any equivalent for #$%&' ( ")*+ ( ,-.+ ( '/01+. Other noteworthy differences include the already mentioned plural form of "oaths" in the Syriac ()tM8wM) versus the singular in the Ethiopic (")2), the inclusion of a second person singular pronominal suffix on the second occurrence of "oaths" in the Syriac (ktM8wMB),3 and the use of the noun to refer to the deaths of both parents (nwhtwM) rather than a singular verb to refer to Isaac's death (345). If VanderKam and Milik are correct that "one letter separates the visible letters from the left margin" then the Hebrew supports the Ethiopic in using a singular noun for "oath."4 The plural form in the Syriac can easily be explained as a stylistic change based on the fact that Esau actually swore twice. v. 18: Fortunately more of this verse is preserved in the Hebrew. From the end of line 3 we have: [Md]|ah ynbl ØNØya followed by hnm]|a»n howbC MyC|j[nlw] at the beginning of line 4. At the end of line 4 we have hlal «h«l[a and the beginning of line 5 reads C]ya wgwrhy hkkyh |h[or]. The Ethiopic mirrors the extant Hebrew fairly well, as does the Syriac apart from its tendency towards abbreviation. In their English translations both Wintermute and VanderKam translate -67' 89: as "beasts of the field."5 The phrase, however, often refers to serpents.6 Both the Hebrew 3 VanderKam and Milik (122) note that at least one Ethiopic manuscript also has the suffix. VanderKam and Milik, “223-224. 4QpapJubh,” 119. 5 O.S. Wintermute, “Jubilees,” in Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (ed. James H. Charlesworth; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1983). 4 194 and the Syriac support this reading. The Hebrew has hnm]|a»n howbC ("faithful oath") where the Ethiopic has !"# $%& ("righteous oath") and Syriac has )tr8Yr$ )tM8wM ("lasting" or "trustworthy oaths" with the plural again). The Hebrew and Syriac have plural demonstratives (hlal «h«l[a and oYLhL oYLh) where Ethiopic has singular ones ('() *'()). The Ethiopic uses a singular form of the verb for "kill" (+&,-) while Hebrew has the plural (wgwrhy) and the Syriac lacks any equivalent. The Syriac and Ethiopic are fairly close in the places where Hebrew witness is lacking with the aforementioned Syriac omission. Ethiopic does begin with the phrase ./01 23 (reconstructed as za by VanderKam and Milik), while Syriac begins with a simple waw. Syriac specifies Jacob as the recipient of Esau's speech with bwQOYL against the Ethiopic and presumably against the Hebrew, which has no space for it. v. 19: Portions of six words from this shorter passage are preserved on lines 5 and 6 of the Hebrew. At the end of line 5 we find [d]|o h]|km«o tw«C|o|l Nyaw M[lwo]. yØn|b[ and the beginning of line 6 reads: The Ethiopic closely reflects the extant Hebrew. There is some disagreement between the Ethiopic and the Syriac in the Hebrew lacunae. The Ethiopic reads .,4-56 5(1 789 ./:%9 whereas the Syriac reads yNB8Lw yL kYN*B w tN) )BB8dLOB. The Ethiopic uses an imperfect 2ms verb with a 1cs object suffix followed by an independent pronoun and a pronominal intensifier ("And-you-will-hate-me you me"), while Syriac uses a 6 Wolf Leslau, Concise Dictionary of Ge’ez (Classical Ethiopic) (Wiesbaden: O. Harrassowitz, 195 noun with an implied copula followed by an independent 2ms pronoun and a noun with a 2ms pronominal suffix as the subject, and then two lameds of disadvantage prefixed to a pronominal suffix and and a noun with a 1cs suffix respectively ("Enemies (are) you and your sons to me and to my sons"). Beyond the different vocabulary (enemy vs. hate) and syntax, the Syriac also specifies that Jacob's sons will be in enmity with Esau and his sons. VanderKam and Milik have back-translated from the Ethiopic to fill in the lacuna in the Hebrew. Since we are giving preference to the Ethiopic witness, we will assume this to be correct. However, it is possible that the original Hebrew said something like ynblw yl hta bwya ("You are an enemy to me and to my sons"). A second disagreement between the Ethiopic and Syriac is the word choice at the end of the second clause. Ethiopic reads !"# (back-translated as hwja by VanderKam and Milik) while the Syriac reads )ML$. It is possible that Mwlv was in the Hebrew here. The Syriac also contains an extensive addition which is lacking from the Ethiopic. Before the Qumran discoveries the originality of this passage was an open question. However, since there is no room for it in the Hebrew manuscript it seems to have been abandoned as a later addition.7 The purpose of such an addition is quite understandable, as it makes Esau's speech seem like less of a monologue and more of a conversation. It also provides Jacob with an opportunity to warn Esau and plead with him, thus underlining the fact that Jacob did all he could to avert violence with his brother. The expansion reads as follows: 1989), 136. 7 VanderKam and Milik, “223-224. 4QpapJubh,” 123. 196 .kYLO yBLB tY) )L )t$YB )N) .yX) dBOt )L bwQOY rM)w lKL OrP[w )tY*SK )zXw )hL) tY)d Od .)t$YB yLO b$Xtt )L )BhrwSB mdM dBOt )Lw kzGwrd )tMX xYN) .yhwd8B[O kY) dX : )t$YB kYLO )tYtw Jacob said "Do not do (this), my brother. As for me, there is no evil in my mind against you; do not plan evil against me. Be aware that there is a God, and he sees secrets and repays each one in accord with what he does. Calm your great anger and do nothing hastily. Then evil would come upon you."8 v. 20: Very little of Esau's imperative to Jacob ("Hear . . .") is preserved in the Hebrew. At the end of line 6 we see: Kl rb|d[m. While the Ethiopic uses an object suffix (!) on the verb the Hebrew used a preposition and pronominal suffix (Kl). There are some differences in the Syriac. Because of the words of Jacob that were added at the end of v.19 the Syriac must begin with an introduction to Esau's speech in v.20: tY)Y$Q rM])w wSYO yNP oYdYh ("Then Esau replied and said harshly . . ."). Syriac lacks an equivalent noun where the Ethiopic has "#$%, merely using a plural demonstrative oYLh ("these [words]"). The use of the plural demonstrative differs from the Ethiopic, where we see the singular demonstrative &'( ("this, my word"). VanderKam and Milik's conjecture preserves the noun with the 1cs pronominal suffix but pluralizes it and includes the plural demonstrative (hlah yrbd). Given the space, it seems more reasonable that the longer reading of the Ethiopic and the plural demonstrative (which is longer in Hebrew than the singular demonstrative) would be present. 197 The first part of the protasis is partially preserved in the Hebrew on line 7: K«r[y rmxk wroC taw wrw]|o ta ryzjh «KØw|p|h[y Ma]. The extant text supports the Ethiopic witness. The Syriac is shorter: )KYKr )rM(L hK$M )rYzX pLX[M n) ("If the boar changes his hide to soft wool"). The second part of the protasis is on the remainder of line 7 and the beginning of line 8: »N[waxw ly]|a ynrqk «MØy»n[rq wC]warb wloyw. Again, this agrees quite well with the Ethiopic. One difference is the repetition of the conditional particle in the Ethiopic (!"#), which is also present in the Syriac (n)w). Again, the Syriac abbreviates: )LY)d )tNr8Q h$YrB oQ8SN n)w ("and if the horns of a deer emerge on its head"). The apodosis on line 8 reads: hwja ]hkmo h|Coa za, which again confirms the Ethiopic. The equivalent for $"% is again lacking in the Hebrew. However this time the Syriac agrees with the Ethiopic ()twX)), providing definite support for the reading hwja. The Hebrew does not clarify the identity of the horned animals as well as we might like. The Ethiopic identifies them as a &'( ("ibex" or "mountain goat")9 and )*+, ("rams"). The Syriac abbreviates, mentioning only one animal, )LY) ("stag").10 The Hebrew clearly has two animals, with the first at the end of line 7 and the second at the beginning of line 8. The first letter of the 8 We noted in previous discussions that this addition offers an interesting parallel to M.W. 37.3, which claims that Jacob spoke to Esau with “words of peace, friendship and brotherhood.” 9 Leslau, Concise Dictionary, 3. VanderKam translates this as “deer.” 10 R. Payne Smith, and Jessie Payne Smith Margoliouth, A Compendious Syriac Dictionary, Founded upon the Thesaurus Syriacus of R. Payne Smith D.D. (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1903), 13. 198 first animal appears to be an aleph and the final letter of the second animal seems to be a nun. Based on the initial aleph and the versions, it seems likely that VanderKam and Milik's reconstruction of lya is accurate. This word can be pointed as lˆyAa to mean a ram or as lÎ¥yAa to mean a stag. The typical LXX translation for lˆyAa is krioß.11 The typical translation of lÎ¥yAa is e¶lafoß. In the Ethiopic Bible e¶lafoß is translated as !"#.12 This would seem to indicate that the Greek translator of Jubilees read lya as lÎ¥yAa ("deer"), which the Ethiopic translated as !"#. The Syriac translator similarly reflects lÎ¥yAa ()LY)). VanderKam and Milik's translation reads it instead as lˆyAa ("ram"). Based on the evidence of the two versions, it might be best to read this as "stag" rather than "ram." However, as we will see below, the horn of the ram is emphasized in other second-century B.C.E Palestinian writings, making it likely that the ram is actually in view here. VanderKam and Milik reconstruct the second animal, for which we only have a final nun, as Nwaxw ("flock"). This has support in the Ethiopic, where we find $%&, which is a common translation of pro/baton, which in turn is a common translation of Nax.13 Unfortunately very little of the odd statement about breasts being separated is preserved in | the Hebrew. On line 8 we have only: ja htyh a»w[l. The Syriac omits it entirely. In our translation we have translated from VanderKam's critical Ethiopic text. However, we noted in our discussion above that there are other possible readings. 11 Gen 15:9; 22:13; 31:38; 32:15; Exod 25:5; 26:14; 29:1, 3, 15, 22; etc. For example in: Deut 12:15, 22; 14:5; 15:22; Ps 17:36; 28:8; 41:1; 103:19; Job 39:1; Isa 34:15; 35:6. 12 199 v. 21: The Hebrew for this verse is quite partial and difficult to read. It does, however, offer us some very useful data. The wolf/lamb protases begin at the end of line 8 and run through to the beginning of line 10. The first element in the first protasis reads: Mylf^h^ |M|o «MlC |M[ybaz^h^] wCoy [Maw ("And if the wolves make peace with the lambs"). The Ethiopic closely reflects this, although it has a singular lamb (!"#$) where the Hebrew has a plural (Mylf^). We learn here that the Hebrew term behind !"#$ ("young kid, lamb, suckling") is Mylfh (the h is supralineal). This is a rare term for "lamb" in the Hebrew Bible, occurring only in 1 Sam 7:9; Isa 40:11; and Isa 65:25. The second and third elements of the first protasis are two result clauses which are almost entirely missing in the Hebrew: Mhl qxhw Mlkwa ytlb]|l. The Ethiopic here is fairly simple: %! &'()$*+ ,%! &'-./0)*+ ("so that they do not eat them and so that they do not injure them"). These are two brief verbal result clauses introduced by %!. The extant Hebrew gives indication of a similar result clause(s) introduced by a lamed preposition. VanderKam and Milik observe that there is enough space in the manuscript for both of the negative result clauses, but that there is not space for a repetition of ytlbl.14 The second protasis reads: M[hylo byfyh]«l [Mhylo] Mbl Øyhyh»y[ Maw ("And if their heart will be upon them to do good towards them").15 VanderKam and Milik explain the form Øyhyh»y as an error in which the scribe "forgot he had written the initial hy and wrote the jussive yhy after it. He seems to have marked the extra letter for erasure."16 Again, the Ethiopic mirrors the extant 13 For example: Gen 4:2; 27:9, Exod 10:24; 12:21; Lev 1:10. VanderKam and Milik, “223-224. 4QpapJubh,” 123. 15 Cf. 2 Sam 15:13. 16 VanderKam and Milik, “223-224. 4QpapJubh,” 123. 14 200 Hebrew fairly well. The Ethiopic uses the plural "hearts" (!"#$%&) as opposed to the singular in the Hebrew (Mbl), which is a fairly minor difference. The Hebrew also seems to introduce a result clause with a lamed preposition (byfyh]«l), while VanderKam's text introduces this verb with a conjunction ('!()*). VanderKam and Milik note that the form should be corrected to reflect a + preposition rather than the conjunction. The Hebrew also may have read M[hylo, which is lacking in the Ethiopic. The apodosis is found on line 10 of the Hebrew: MwlC hkylo ]Øyblb hyhy za ("then there will be in my heart peace towards you"). This is essentially identical to the Ethiopic, although the Ethiopic uses an independent compound preposition (,-./) rather than a simple prepositional prefix. The Syriac again abbreviates the protasis: nwhL nw$)BN )Lw )r8M) m( )ML$ )B8)d nwdB(N n)w ("If wolves make peace with lambs and do not harm them"). It places the apodosis at the end of the other conditional statements. This is interesting, since it effectively turns the final three conditional statements into a single unit, thus separating them from the opening statement about the pig. The Hebrew and the Ethiopic likewise isolate the pig statement from the rest through the inclusion of the statement about the breast separation. Ø v. 22: The Hebrew is partially preserved in fragments 22 and 23. On line 10 we read: N[y]|m|amw or rwC[l ("to the ox a friend and a trusted one"). One of the differences between the Hebrew and the versions is in word order: in the Hebrew the ox is placed before the word for "friend." 201 More significantly, the Hebrew includes "and a trusted one," which is lacking in both versions.17 Thus the lion will be both a friend and a trusted one (or confidant) to the ox. VanderKam and Milik suggest that this fell out of the tradition due to a case of homoiarchton.18 The evidence for the remainder of the verse is less certain. Line 11 has been read as: z]|a |d|j|a l»w|o «C|r|j[w ("And plows one yoke") which has essentially the same meaning as the Ethiopic, except for some difference in syntax and the specification of "one" yoke in the Hebrew. This is also present in Ethiopic mss. 20, 25, 35, 38, 39, 42, 47, 48, and 58. According to VanderKam and Milik's reconstruction there is not enough space for a Hebrew equivalent of !"#$ %&' ()*+ in the Hebrew ms. This line is also missing in Ethiopic mss. 42 and 47. The Syriac again offers an abbreviated protasis, with the apodosis pushed to the end of the final three conditional statements: )rYN hM( dGN{w )rwtL )rBX )Yr) )whN n)w ("if the lion becomes the friend of a bull and draws the yoke with it"). v. 23: The Hebrew for this verse runs from the middle of line 11 through the end of line 12. On line 11 we find t]|aqk Mybrwoh, showing us the specific bird terms used in the original: ravens and (most likely) pelicans (taq). This agrees with the Syriac ()Q8Q; although the Hebrew is likely singular), but is contra Ethiopic "raza bird" (,-). Very little of the apodosis is preserved: MwlC hkmo] |h|C[oaw hktwa y]|t[bha] yk od [za. What is present fits well with the Ethiopic text. 17 Concerning the reconstructed participle ØN[y]|m|amw, a hif'il participle of this verb only occurs in two places in the Hebrew Bible: Deut 1:32 and Isa 28:16. It occurs at Qumran in a handful of places, specifically: 1QS 4:3, 4Q200 f4:4, our passage, and 4Q424 f3:1. 202 Again, the Syriac abbreviates, omitting the first part of the apodosis but finally offering the apodosis for the last three conditional statements: )ML$ kM( dB() oYdYh ("Then I will make peace with you"). Esau follows his conditional statements with a curse against Jacob and his sons: .MwlC |h[kl N]»yaw hkynb Myt|r[knw hta trkh ("You be cut off and your sons be cut off, there is no peace for you"). This again parallels the Ethiopic well. The presence of Myt|r[knw confirms, as we might expect, that the Hebrew verb ultimately behind !"# is the nif’al form of trk. This line is absent from the Syriac. A few words should be said about the identity of the taq, which we are translating as "pelican." The animal makes several appearances in the Hebrew Bible, but the meaning of the term is disputed. It appears in the lists of unclean birds in both Leviticus (11:18) and Deuteronomy (14:17), as one of the creatures that will inhabit desolate Edom (Ps 102:6) and Nineveh (Zeph 2:14), and finally the afflicted Psalmist compares himself/herself to a rD;b!dIm tAaVq (Ps 102:7). The confusion over the identity of this creature can be seen in the versions, where we often see different renderings of the term in the various passages. The Greek translators, for instance, chose peleka/n (Lev 11:18; Deut 14:17; Ps 101:7; Aqila/Symmachus/Theodotion Isa 34:11; and Aqila Zeph 2:14), o¡rneon (Isa 34:11), camaile÷wn (Zeph 2:14), and ku÷knoß (Theodotion Zeph 2:14).19 Translations by commentators have included options such as: "scops owl,"20 "jackdaw,"21 "pelican,"22 "tawny owl,"23 and "Saharan owl."24 The primary motivation for maintaining 18 VanderKam and Milik, “223-224. 4QpapJubh,” 124. The major English translations have for the most part continued this inconsistency: KJV: “pelican” (Lev 11:18, Deut 14:17, and Ps 102:6) and “cormorant” (Isa 34:11 and Zeph 2:14). RSV: “pelican” (Lev 11:18 and Deut 14:17), “hawk” (Isa 34:11), and “vulture” (Zeph 2:14 and Ps 102:6). ESV: “tawny owl” (Lev 11:18 and Deut 14:17), “hawk” (Isaiah 34:11), “owl” (Zeph 2:14), and “desert owl of the wilderness” (Ps 102:6). NIV: “desert owl” (all occurrences). 20 Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus 1-16: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (New York: Doubleday, 1991), 663; John W. Kleinig, Leviticus (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2003),245. 19 203 the translation "pelican" seems to be the evidence of the versions, which tend towards identifying the bird this way. The primary motivation for the alternative suggestions is the context of the passages which imagine the bird as an inhabitant of the wilderness or desolate cities like Nineveh. Commentators and translators have reasoned that such settings would be unsuitable for the pelican.25 There are two difficulties with this objection to the translation "pelican." First, we should not necessarily expect exact zoological precision from an Israelite prophet, especially for a foreign city like Nineveh. The taq may have been included with traditional lists of animals representing desolation, with its status as a carnivore and carrion eater (both traits of the pelican) being the primary reason for its inclusion. Such traditional lists might then be applied even to locales where the individual species would not be present. Second, we should not dismiss the possibility of the pelican dwelling in places like Nineveh, which is in fact near rivers. Those who would identify the taq as some kind of owl face further difficulties in light of our passage, which clearly portrays it as a white creature. Very few owls are predominantly white, and a survey of the distribution of contemporary owl species shows that the owls inhabiting Palestine and the Middle East in general tend, like most owls, to be brownish. Indeed, the translators and commentators have sometimes opted for "tawny owl." Most species of the pelican, on the other hand, are white. The fact that they appear together with the raven in several passages (Lev 11:15, Deut 14:14, and Isa 34:11) and that they are white probably led our author to pair them with the raven. v. 24: Only two brief portions of this verse have been preserved in the Hebrew: qjdmw a|b[w ]»wgrwhl[ on line 13 and wnmm[ on line 14. The only thing that is of interest in the Hebrew is the reading qjdmw which gives us an idea of the verb that ultimately lays behind !"#$%&. The Syriac 21 Adele Berlin, Zephaniah: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (New York: Doubleday, 1995), 115; Frank Lothar Hossfeld and Erich Zenger, Psalms 3: A Commentary on Psalms 101-150 (trans. Linda M. Maloney; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011), 18. 22 Marvin A. Sweeney, Zephaniah: A Commentary (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003), 149. 23 Gordon J. Wenham, The Book of Leviticus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979), 162. 24 Baruch Levine, Leviticus (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1989), 68. 25 “. . . there have been difficulties in explaining why a bird normally associated with water should appear at the site of Nineveh, which is inland along the Euphrates river.” Sweeney, Zephaniah, 153. Cf. J.J.M. Roberts, Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1991), 193. 204 reads hL+QNd yhwL( wSY( )t]) htY(rt h[LKBw hBL hLKBd bwQ(Y )zX} dKw ("And when Jacob saw that with all his heart and all his mind Esau came against him in order to kill him . . ."), omitting any reference to Esau as a wild boar. One interesting thing to note about the Ethiopic text is its use of !"#$ for "boar." This is different than the term used for swine in v. 20 (%&'(). Unfortunately, the reference to the boar only survives in the Ethiopic. The use of two different terms for swine raises the question of whether or not the original Hebrew likewise used two different terms. VanderKam and Milik’s reconstruction of the verse answers this negatively, suggesting ryzjk ("like a pig"). It seems clear from the hunting context, however, that what is in view is not a domestic swine, but a feral pig or wild boar. The one instance in the Hebrew Bible where a wild swine is clearly envisaged is Ps 80:13, where the phrase roym ryzj ("pig from the forest") is used. This phrase was treated differently by both the LXX and the Ethiopic translations, with the LXX opting for suvß as opposed to its more typical u!ß or u¢eioß. The Ethiopic opted for %)'( %*+. In his discussion of similar questions in the Animal Apocalypse Bryan notes that the Mishnah uses different language for the wild and the domestic pig (m. H!ul. 9.2) and conjectures that the Aramaic Vorlage for 1 En. 89:10 read rbh Nyryzj for "wild boars" and simply Nyryzj for domestic swine, which have been rendered in the Ethiopic text as %&'( ,-. and /012 respectively.26 Did a phrase like roym ryzj or rbh ryzj exist in 37:24 of Hebrew Jubilees, thus giving rise to the use of two different swine terms in the Ethiopic translation? It is certainly possible that this was the case in some manuscripts, but 26 David Bryan, Cosmos, Chaos and the Kosher Mentality (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 16. 205 based on the spacing in the Hebrew fragment we do have, it seems best to read ryzjk and to understand the choice of !"#$ as an attempt by the Ethiopic translator to distinguish this wild boar from the domestic pig mentioned earlier. It is possible that such a distinction was already made in the Greek translation of Jubilees.27 The word choice in the Ethiopic is still somewhat puzzling when we look at 1 En. 89:10, where we find the phrase %&'( )*+. We are left wondering why the Ethiopic translators of Jubilees did not use the same phrase in v. 24. v. 25: The end of line 14 of the Hebrew reads: wynbl rm«a[ z]|a. It agrees with the Syriac in its reading of "to his sons" against the Ethiopic's more generic "to his followers." The Syriac again abbreviates: yhwL( nwQPNd yhwN*BL bwQ(Y rM]) oYdYh ("then Jacob told his sons to attack him.") 27 See Il. 5.783 for a distinction between wild and domestic swine.