A Literary and Grammatical Analysis of Esther 1 more

1 A LITERARY AND GRAMMATICAL ANALYSIS OF ESTHER 1 By J. R. Corn The purpose of this paper is to examine the first chapter of Esther with the goal of gaining an understanding of the introduction to this literary creation, and this will be done through a literary, grammatical analysis.1 The thesis of this paper is that, through the use of verbal tenses and literary devices such as characterization and plot, the first chapter of Esther holds important details for the interpretation of the rest of the book and primarily functions as a characterization of King Ahasuerus and as the exposition which ultimately leads to the narrative entrance of the main character, Esther. First, this paper will inspect the use of verbal tenses to demonstrate the presence and direction of the narrator who, as commentators note concerning Esther, is more readily apparent.2 When the verbal tenses are charted, the hand of the narrator becomes even more visible, and this is highly significant if Robert Alter‟s statement is true that for the most part “the biblical writers prefer to avoid indirect speech. . . . The rule of thumb is that when speech is involved in a narrative event, it is presented as direct speech.”3 With the notable absence of direct speech, and with narrative dominating Esther, the direct speech that does occur only becomes more crucial in understanding the book. Thus the verbal tenses which indicate narrative or discourse are decidedly important in understanding a text. A tagging of Esther 1 (Appendix 1 contains Esther 1-5) will demonstrate the focus and direction of the narrator. Second, this paper will scrutinize the first chapter from a literary standpoint and the uses of the major literary techniques common to the biblical writers: plot, characterization, and general style. When the first chapter is analyzed in such a manner, it will yield important information, and it is this literary content of the opening chapter that becomes immensely vital for understanding the rest of the book—chapter is also where one can begin to establish a critical methodology interpreting the rest of the book. Third, the information gleaned from the previous two processes will be utilized to understand how they relate to different parts of the book. Applying the information from the grammatical tenses and from literary analysis, a better understanding of the first chapter of Esther should more clearly highlight the path on which the narrator sets the reader. 1 See Adele Berlin, “The Book of Esther and Ancient Storytelling,” Journal of Biblical Literature 120 (2001): 3-14. Berlin makes a decent case for the literary nature of Esther, recognizing certain common features with other short, Persia-related narratives. A careful reading of the text itself, however, certainly reveals it to be a literary masterpiece. Cf. also Sara Johnson, “Novelistic Elements in Esther: Persian or Hellenistic, Jewish or Greek?” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 67 (2005): 571-89. 2 The presence of the narrator is more strongly felt mainly because of the lack of direct speech in Esther. See Jon D. Levenson, Esther: A Commentary, Old Testament Library Series (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997), 1; Berlin, “The Book of Esther and Ancient Storytelling,” 6. Cf. also Shimon Bar-Efrat, Narrative Art in the Bible (York: T&T Clark International, 2004), 41-5. 3 Robert Alter, Art of Biblical Narrative (United States: Basic Books, 1981), 67. 2 There is certainly much debate on the exact function of the wayyiqtol (and the verbal system in general) within BH and its specific role within BH narrative. 4 Galia Hatav argues that the wayyiqtol (and the other tenses as well) refer primarily to sequence, which means that with the wayyiqtol a sequence is begun (a reference-time is set) and proceeds from that reference-time set by the wayyiqtol. Other tenses, like the qatal, do not advance the sequences, it “does not introduce its own [reference-time], but is always „parasitic‟ on a [reference-time] introduced by other clauses, and therefore does not form a sequence,” but the qatal does seem to appear in sequential clauses, and where it does occur, Hatav notes that one would at least expect a wayyiqtol.5 In other words, Hatav‟s discussion on “sequence” would be somewhat equivalent to “narration,” that is, one expects a wayyiqtol to carry on the sequence (or “narration”), and the qatal can provide background information. Hatav summarizes this point elsewhere stating, “My claim that wayyiqtol always builds a reference-time can best be demonstrated by narrative texts, where its clauses are understood to form a sequence.”6 Thus when Hatav speaks of the sequence indicated by the wayyiqtol, though speaking in terms of sequence, from a literary-analytical perspective, she is, in a sense, referring to the movement of the narrative, with the qatals often functioning as “parasites” of the reference-time indicated by the wayyiqtol. This is similar to this paper‟s approach, but sequence is not the solitary function of the wayyiqtol, but part of a greater understanding of the function of the wayyiqtol (see discussion of Heimerdinger and Cook below). This approach seems to more clearly highlight the movement of the narrator and, instead of speculating as to where the narrator is going or what he wishes to emphasize for the reader, the use of tenses provide a more concrete, sure foundation to make claims about the movement of the narrative and the hand of the narrator. Meir Sternberg writes about the “main varieties of a narrator‟s normal discourse” and proceeds to note several ways in which the narrator is visible but most of these are content-driven, somewhat context-driven, but not grammar-driven cues to the hand of the author.7 What that means is this, the narrator‟s hand can be seen clearly in content such as inner-thoughts and motives, this much is clear, but the hand of the narrator can be seen on the whole when the tenses are followed. Thus, instead of assuming (or guessing even) Galia Hatav, The Semantics of Aspect and Modality: Evidence from English and Biblical Hebrew, Studies in Language Companion Series 34 (Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 1997), 10-24. Hatav briefly surveys the major theses on the BH verbal conjugations. For another helpful summary of the history of the understanding of the conjugations in BH, see Bruce Waltke and Michael O‟Connor, Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 455-78. 5 Ibid., 184. The term “background” in this paper refers to information which the author includes to give the reader information either necessary to understanding the story or information which is given to the reader and withheld from the characters. This paper also recognizes that the qatal tense occurs regularly in ‫ כי‬and ‫ אשר‬clauses. Galia Hatav, “Past and Future Interpretation of Wayyiqtol,” Journal of Semitic Studies 56 (2011): 95. Hatav‟s argument may seem circular (the text is narrative and contains wayyiqtols, and the text contains wayyiqtols which indicates narrative), and in some sense it could be. Hatav‟s point, however, is that wayyiqtols indicate a progression in sequence. What this paper would argue is that this idea of sequence is part of the use within the wayyiqtol in signaling narrative. 7 Meir Sternberg, Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Idealogical Literature and the Drama of Reading (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985), 120-1. 6 4 3 where the narrator desires emphasis and background, the reader is provided this information through the use of Hebrew tenses. Here Sternberg is helpful again, Contrary to the modern premise, one might add, it is hard to say whether a narrator makes himself more conspicuous by speaking in his own voice or by remaining silent where one might expect speech. But the biblical artist would not much care one way or the other, because to him the whole question is pragmatic rather than doctrinal. He has no hesitation in intruding for a purpose: stage setting, emphasis, intelligibility, economy (where scenic rendering would be wasteful), concentrating interest, plot linkage, historicity effect, or the establishment of a norm as a measure of the character‟s subjectivities. Nor will he hesitate to remain “behind or beyond or above his handiwork” where these goals may be equally served by other techniques, disturbing reticence included, or where he has in view other goals altogether. 8 It is the Hebrew tenses that are extremely helpful in surveying and clearly identifying the narrator‟s stage setting, emphasis, etc., and thus their importance should be observed in exegesis. In describing the “stags of the plot,” Bar-Efrat notes the weight of the beginning section of the plot, usually called the exposition, and it usually “serves as an introduction to the action described in the narrative, supplying background information [and] introducing characters” for the rest of the story (emphasis added).9 The indication of background material will be primarily assessed through the recognition of qatal verbs (or just nominal clauses) within the narrative, and by tracing the tenses within Esther 1, one will see that indeed “no information is included in the exposition which does not have a definite function in the development of the action.” 10 Thus in the exposition, where would expect the requisite background information, in Esther 1 the exposition primarily contains nominal clauses and qatal clauses, with very little narrative (very few wayyiqtols). In Esther, the narrator does at times use what David Firth notes (following Gerard Genette) as zero focalization in which “the narrator knows more than the characters, and is thus the traditional omniscient narrator.”11 More predominant in Esther, however, according to Firth, is the tactic of external focalization, where the narrator “knows (or discloses) less than the characters, following them around but not showing or developing insights into their character or motivation that cannot be deduced from their direct actions”—this puts Esther‟s “mode of narration outside the dominant approaches of the Old Testament.”12 It would be erroneous, however, to Ibid., 122. Sternberg‟s analysis on the presence of the narrator is helpful and his marks for identifying the narrator‟s presence are clear and accurate, but Sternberg does not, however, deal with the fact that the text itself is a testimony to the evidence of a narrator. In other words, the presence of the narrator is apparent in the fact that a coherent, single text has been produced. Within that text though, the narrator chooses to engage the reader openly or to remain “in the shadows,” as it were, and these are the main actions to which Sternberg refers. 9 Bar-Efrat, 111. 10 Ibid, 114. 11 David Firth, “When Samuel Met Esther,” Southeastern Theological Review 1 (2010):17. Firth notes that this is what Sternberg considers “normal” with biblical narrators. The clearest demonstration of this type of focalization (and of Sternberg‟s point) is in Est 6:6 where the narrator reveals the thoughts of Haman. 12 Ibid., 17-8. 8 4 equate external focalization with the presence of the narrator. While the narrator may not disclose insights into characters, his presence is nonetheless obvious, a perfect example being the description of the preparations made for the festival in Esther 1. The narrator delves into great details concerning the decorations and preparations, a tactic that seems more similar to zero focalization. In other words, in regards to characters and motivation, it may be said that the narrator of Esther does seem to remain, on the whole, silent. This, however, does not deny the presence of the narrator, and thus the external focalization seems to be restrained mainly to characters and the motivations. A small clarification seems appropriate here to clear some possible misconceptions about the approach employed in this paper in its analysis of Esther. First, this paper would fall under what HanYoung Lee would call the “divine narrative” approach. This distinction is necessary because, as Lee helpfully distinguishes, a purely narrative approach is not equivalent to what he calls the divine narrative approach. Rather, the divine narrative approach “seeks to utilize some of the facets of a narrative approach as an inclusive interpretive means” (emphasis original). Thus the narrative approach is employed insofar as it assists one in understanding the text itself because it “reflects the most updated response” to some of the problems created by the historicalcritical methods. Lee summarizes this approach well: “Thus, a divine narrative approach in Old Testament hermeneutics focuses on the external expressions of the Word-Revelation in its final form of canonical texts in the light of the inherent revelational nature of the Bible” (emphasis original).13 This caveat is compulsory for “background” is not synonymous with, nor should it be equated with, any idea of “unimportant.” The background is most certainly pertinent. The background information indicated by the qatal provides the necessary contrast to the wayyiqtols, thus making it more easily intelligible to follow the narrator. Second, a clarification of the term “narrator” is in order. Jerome T. Walsh states that “the narrator is not the author,” and thus this distinction “implies that the author can create any sort of narrator he or she chooses to create.”14 A difficulty arises, however, with Walsh‟s dichotomy between narrator and author. For example, he states, “even an anonymous, third-person narrator can differ from the author in one significant way: the author can create a narrator whose opinions and values the author does not share.”15 The issue at hand is that of the implied author/narrator and real reader/implied reader, and it is an issue that is of grave importance as well. Han Young Lee, History to Narrative Hermeneutics (New York: Peter Lang, 2004), 188. Lee‟s work is helpful in tracing the broader history of OT interpretation and hermeneutics. Again, the main point in this distinction is that the approach applied here is not necessarily a purely narrative approach, but this writer does recognize its immeasurable potential for understanding the text. 14 Jerome Walsh, Old Testament Narrative: A Guide to Interpretation (Louisville: Westminster, 2009), 1001. 15 Ibid., 101. Here Walsh claims that the clearest example of this literary tactic is the use of irony. Walsh notes, however, that “one could attribute the ironic intent to the narrator himself, since whatever clues there are to the subversion of surface meaning also come to us in the narrator‟s voice. For ease and clarity of analysis, however, it is simpler to assign the surface meaning to the narrator and the clues that subvert it to the (implied) author” (226, n 14). 13 5 Jean-Marc Heimerdinger would argue that in “written interaction . . . the author does not interact with the real reader,” and the real reader, “in the process of reading, looks for the implied author, as the real author is not present,” that is, “the implied author is the real reader‟s construct, derived from the text read.”16 Heimerdinger does argue, however, that “the real author creates a narrator who has the role of the storyteller,” and then he proceeds to acknowledge that the real author “has a number of options when they come to construct a narrator.”17 This will not be addressed at length in this paper for several reasons but the central one being that the narrator, as mentioned above, does not overtly appear much in the book of Esther, which would seem to indicate that the implied author/narrator and the real author to be more readily identified as one and the same. In other words, the limited intrusion of the narrator allows almost no room for any subversive writing by the author as described by Walsh, and Heimerdinger‟s narrator/real author gap is not as wide within Esther as well. Bringing these two aspects together, the grammatical and the literary, Heimerdinger believes that no special grammatical form necessarily foregrounds the narrative, but rather a contextual sensitivity to “unpredictable” events, set against more usual events, is what foregrounds the narrative. Concerning these usual events, Heimerdinger notes, “it is very important to say that, very often, events reported through vayyiqtol verbs are not unexpected and so the vayyiqtol form cannot be understood as having a foregrounding function.”18 Heimerdinger also raises important objections to the view that wayyiqtols foreground the narrative; rather, “foregrounding is defined in terms of salience” and the wayyiqtol clause is not “always a „typical‟ narrative clause.”19 According to Heimerdinger, the wayyiqtol may report important events but they may also “report familiar and routine sequences of action.”20 While it is true that the wayyiqtol may report “familiar and routine” events, Heimerdinger is wrong to equate “familiar and routine” with “unimportant. Thus it is a mistake to contrast “familiar and routine” with “important and pivotal”—often times in narrative a “familiar” event can be pivotal. It is not entirely impossible that an “unexpected” and “predictable” event occur within close proximity. For example, in Est 1:12, two wayyiqtols inform the reader that Vashti disobeyed (‫ )ותמאן המלכה ושתי‬and the king was enraged (‫ ,)ויקצף המלך מאד‬the first being “unpredictable” and the second being “expected.” The use of the wayyiqtol clues the reader to the significance of both events, something a purely “salient” approach might miss. Interestingly enough, Heimerdinger states that through the argument of saliency, one sees that “the narrator aims at some kind of influence on the hearer or the reader” and these “foregrounding devices are marks Jean-Marc Heimerdinger, Topic, Focus and Foreground in Ancient Hebrew Narratives, Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series 295 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), 45. Heimerdinger states that one recognizes and “constructs” the implied author through a “„text-guided image‟ built up by a dense framework of numerous literary devices and strategies. 17 Ibid., 46. Heimerdinger correctly notes that even “though sometimes narrators may not be easily distinguished from authors, they constitute an entity distinct from authors (46, n 25). This is the case with Esther. 18 Ibid., 240. 19 Ibid., 222, 261. 20 Ibid., 240. 16 6 in the discourse which guide the reader towards a specific interpretation.”21 This paper would argue, however, that the author guides the reader towards a specific interpretation through the use of wayyiqtols which foreground the narrative, an approach which sets the reader on a more sure foundation at the very least. It should be noted that Heimerdinger‟s reservations are, as John Cook notes concerning Heimerdinger‟s thesis, partly because he defines “foregrounding” differently, “based on Grice‟s maxims of conversation.”22 The wayyiqtol does seem to function at times sequentially, with a more temporal aspect, but also does seem to function in a literary capacity, foregrounding the narrative. Cook notes that “many studies assume a correlation between temporal succession and foreground: foreground consists of temporally successive clauses,” and that is not the position this paper takes. The position of this paper is similar to that of Cook‟s which is that “the pragmatic functions of tense-aspect categories in narrative are not arbitrary,” that is, he sees them “as motivated extensions of the meanings of those categories.”23 This paper would argue that the uses of conjugations are to be understood somewhat more holistically, recognizing that “there is a reciprocal relationship between meaning and function, necessitating that they ultimately be examined together.”24 It is ultimately this approach that this paper will employ in seeking to understand the first chapter of Esther. The use of the verbal tenses in Esther is one of the less-explored features of the text and this may be due to the general lack of consensus on the Hebrew verbal clause. Thus recognizing the difficulty (and the debate) surrounding Hebrew verbal clauses, this author takes the general (and grossly oversimplified) position that the wayyiqtol tense is used mainly for narration, the yiqtol is used for direct discourse, and the qatal is used primarily for background information. While this simplistic summary is dangerous, it gets at the point directly. Through the use of different tenses one can see the emphasis, technique, and direction of the narrator. There are eight occurrences of the wayyiqtol, five of the yiqtol (including x + yiqtol) , and eight of the qatal (including x + qatal) within the first chapter of Esther. This would seem to inIbid. John Cook, “The Semantics of Verbal Pragmatics: Clarifying the Roles of Wayyiqtol and Weqatal in Biblical Hebrew Prose,” Journal of Semitic Studies 49 (2004): 261 n 27. 23 Ibid., 250. 24 Ibid. Cook‟s work is immensely helpful, almost requisite, for understanding this discussion between foregrounding and sequence. After a careful analysis, he states concerning the wayyiqtol (264, emphasis original): 22 21 There is neither a semantic marking nor a complete discourse correlation between the form and temporal succession. The nevertheless high degree of coincidence between wayyiqtol and temporal succession is explained first of all by the semantics of wayyiqtol; namely, its default perfective aspect regularly contributes to the expression temporal succession. Secondly, because wayyiqtol is a narrative verb, its employment implies the ordo naturalis characteristic of narration, thus implicating a temporally successive interpretation. Cook does recognize, however, the different uses for departing from the use of the wayyiqtol and even states that BH does not “employ wayyiqtol exclusively to express foreground,” but nevertheless it is “the narrative verb in Biblical Hebrew, used regularly to express foregrounded events in narrative discourse” (264, emphasis original). 7 dicate that a primary function of the first chapter is to serve as background or informational material for the basic plot of the rest of the story. This is logical since this is the beginning of the story. The high frequency of nominal clauses, combined with the low frequency of wayyiqtols (to indicate narration) and other verbal patterns in general, also confirm the argument that there is much that is “background” to the narrative, material in which the story does not progress.25 The story thus begins with the familiar words, “and it was” (‫ )ויהי‬signaling the onset of the story and what proceeds is eleven verses without a wayyiqtol.26 The story begins “in the days of Ahasuerus,” a king who is immediately depicted as having a vast kingdom stretching from India to Ethiopia.27 He is no ruler of a small city-state or a minuscule kingdom on the outskirts of the Near East, but a ruler who maintains a massive empire, stretching much of the known world. As Robert Hubbard notes, “Ahasuerus was not a common and ordinary monarch. On the contrary, he was a powerful king who exercised total dominion over his empire, which was so immense it included all the countries from India to Ethiopia.”28 The following verses (1:2-11) continue this in-depth background sketch of the king, provide a precedent for the reality of feasts (given by a king and a queen) and also briefly characterize the queen Vashti. There are two feasts that are given, which as Daniel Polish notes, introduc- Wolfgang Schneider, Grammatik des Biblischen Hebräisch: Ein Lehrbuch (Munich: Claudius, 1989), 182-185. Schneider writes, “In den Sätzen, deren Prädikat im Perfekt steht, schreitet die Erzählung nicht fort,” and the point here is that, in narration, the story does progress. Thus the presence (or lack thereof) wayyiqtol vs. qatal can give some sense of narrative speed, which in turn highlights narratorial/authorial emphasis. 26 Frederich Bush, Ruth, Esther, Word Biblical Commentary (Nasvhille: Thomas Nelson, 1996), 23; Forrest Wieland, “Historicity, Genre, and Narrative Design in the Book of Esther,” Bibliotheca Sacra 159 (2002): 156; Robert Chisholm, From Exegesis to Exposition (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998), 120. Bush states that in LBH there “is a marked decrease in the waw-consecutive tenses in general” but that with Ruth the waw-consecutive is “in full use throughout.” The same can be said for Esther for, while it may not be as prominent as in other biblical works, it is still prominent nonetheless. A cursory perusal of the tagging of Esther confirms that the wayyiqtol is readily used throughout. Weiland would argue that the wayyiqtol, followed by a temporal phrase is used to identify a historical account. Whether the events are historical is not the problem with Weiland‟s analysis. Rather, understanding the wayyiqtol as temporal is not the best explanation of the narrator‟s use of the wayyiqtol. Weiland is more close to the point when he states the use of the wayyiqtol “indicates that the author wanted his readers to understand that he was narrating sequential events” (156, emphasis added). Chisholm does note, however, that the ‫ ,ויהי‬as in Est 1:1, is often followed by a temporal clause to “begin a new narrative or scene.” 27 The historicity of Esther, while an important topic, is not necessarily the concern of this paper. With the beginning of the book set “in the days of Ahasuerus,” the topic of the historicity of the events is a discussion which needs to take place. See David J. A. Clines, “In Quest of the Historical Mordecai,” Vetus Testamentum 41 (1991): 129-36; Friedberg, Albert D. Friedberg, “A New Clue in the Dating of the Composition of the Book of Esther,” Vetus Testamentum 50 (2000): 561-65; Carey A. Moore, “Archaeology and the Book of Esther,” Biblical Archaeologist 38 (1975): 62-79; Zipora and David Talshir, “The Double Month Naming in Late Biblical Books: A New Clue for Dating Esther?” Vetus Testamentum 54 (2004): 549-55; Forrest S. Weiland, “Historicity, Genre, and Narrative Design in the Book of Esther,” 151-65. Most of the commentaries consulted throughout this paper deal with the historicity (or not) of the events in Esther at various lengths. Berlin, “Ancient Storytelling,” also addresses the issue of the historicity of Esther. 28 Robert L. Hubbard, Jr., “Reyes, Majestad y Mujeres (Ester 1-2),” Kairós 16 (1995): 9. 25 8 es the theme of doubleness within Esther, and it will recur throughout. 29 As Bush rightly notes, verses 1:1-11 and their motivation are summed up in 1:4, where the king shows “the riches of the glory of his kingdom and the splendor of the beauty of his greatness” (this author‟s translation).30 Thus the narrator provides all this information to set a backdrop for what follows in the rest of the story. The narrative speed comes to an essential standstill. The story does not progress, and the depth and time (both narrative and otherwise) which the narrator gives attention to the preparations of the feast are important for sketching a purpose within this first chapter. Perhaps here is the best place to address the issue of innertextuality because with the words, “And it was in the days of Ahasuerus. . .” immediately several concepts are brought to the forefront, namely the ideas of a foreign king and his court and the Jewish people, themes familiar to the greater canonical context. The concepts of a foreign court are central to the Joseph and Daniel narratives, as well as the idea of someone prospering in those courts—a theme seen later in Esther. Innertextuality is a technical term for, in the simplest of terms, a biblical text referencing another, but with innertextuality, however, a text is not just referenced but linked. Jonathan Grossman is correct when he states, “The author of the book of Esther makes special use of allusions that he inserts throughout the story, and whose purpose is to hint to the reader about a different biblical narrative which he is being asked to keep in mind as a background to his reading. The better-known allusions in the book are those that refer the reader to the stories of Joseph in Egypt, Saul‟s war against Amalek, the end of David‟s life, the Book of Daniel, etc.”31 There are also connections with the Book of Lamentations. Tracy McKenzie, in defining innertextuality states that it is “understood as an intentional connection between texts in order to combine them into a larger whole. These connections are used to produce a structure through which an author communicates a message.”32 Kristin Saxegaard notes that there are several views of innertextuality (although she calls in intertextuality), but that one involves “studies of author-intended inner-biblical interpretations,”33 and these are the allusions with which this paper is concerned. This is significant because at the very beginning the reader is clued to a simple, but often overlooked truth: the message of Esther is much more than just the story of Esther, rather, it is part of and related to what has come before and what comes after it. It should be noted at this point that the narrative speed in Esther is anything but rapid. The small usage of wayyiqtol verbs entrenches the reader in this one scene for a prolonged period of narrative time. The story moves very little, and the background information provided (again Daniel Polish, “Aspects of Esther: A Phenomenological Exploration of the Megillah of Eshter and the Origins of Purim,” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 85 (1996): 86-9. 30 Bush, 353. 31 Jonathan Grossman, “„Dynamic Analogies‟ in the Book of Esther,” Vetus Testamentum 59 (2009): 395. 32 Tracy McKenzie, Idolatry in the Pentateuch: An Innertextual Strategy (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2010), 28. See 27-59 for a helpful discussion on innertextuality, different views on innertextuality and the criteria for association. 33 Kristin Saxegaard, Character Complexity in the Book of Ruth, Forshchungen zum Alten Testament 2. Reihe 47 (Tubingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 112. 29 9 indicated by qatals and nominal clauses) are full of important material. In analyzing the narrative speed of Esther 1, A. Kay Fountain provides a helpful chart, included below, for understanding on what the narrator‟s attention is focused:34 Word Counts for Descriptions in Chapter 1 of MT Word Count Opulence of King‟s Court Description of actual court Descriptions of 2 banquets % of Text .069 % 3.55 % 0.43 % 0.07 % 6.41 % 3.32 % King‟s Summons Vashti‟s refusal Reaction of Men Speech of Memucan 21 108 13 2 195 101 While understanding that much of 1:1-11 serves as background information, the word count within this background information displays the narrator‟s concentration. The focus of the narrator‟s attention seems to be on the description of the two banquets, the reaction of the men and the speech of Memucan. In 1:1-11, the central focus is on the opulence of the king‟s court. Fountain correctly notes that vv. 4-9 describe surroundings and “thus they set the stage for the ensuing action,” and concerning vv. 6, 7 she notes that there is no verb, a fact which “creates an atmosphere of extreme opulence and causes narrated time to a stop.”35 From the narrator‟s point of view, the reader is given a tour of this kingdom and his palace, and as Fountain correctly describes, the narrative focuses on his wealth broadly but continually narrows.36 This display of opulence, however, might not function as a negative portrayal of Ahasuerus, because as Carol Betchel comments, it might be possible to understand Ahasuerus‟ wealth as abundance and not excess.37 In other words, this is in-depth display of Ahasuerus‟ wealth may be intended to convey a positive characterization of the king, one which might affect the overall interpretation of the story. Within the overall context of the Book of Esther, it is perhaps best understood as excess, even purposeless excess. The narrator gives no reason for the feast and in light of the generally understood (partial) purpose of Esther (that is, establishing a basis for the Purim festival), this purposeless festival perhaps serves as a foil to the festival of the Purim. If Berlin is correct that Esther is most like a burlesque, then this thick irony would be appropriate, but while she may be correct to a degree, that this description of the excess would 34 A. Kay Fountain, Literary and Empirical Readings of the Books of Esther (New York: Peter Lang, 2002), 41. Ibid., 40. In other words, it is as if the narrator is giving the reader a panoramic, or even perhaps a 360 degree view, of the palace. The narrator seems to inundate the reader with the opulence and excess of this king. 36 Ibid., 76. Eventually the focus is narrowed to Vashti. So the narrator begins broadly with the view of the 127 provinces and then the narrative does not pick up again until he has narrowed the focus to Queen Vashti. 37 Carol Bechtel, Esther, Interpretation (Louisville: John Knox, 2002), 21. 35 10 only serve the burlesque of nature of the work seems hardly believable. 38 Does it necessarily have to be one or the other? In fact, can you have one without the other? This paper would argue no. Instead, the narrator is simply focusing on the wealth an opulence of the king which ultimately functions as the backdrop for Queen‟s Vashti‟s refusal, making her refusal all the more astonishing. Also, Mervin Breneman aptly notes, “Writers of the OT books were economical with their words”39 and thus the narrator‟s grave attention to detail must serve some role other than just burlesque. Some of the items described in the decoration for the feast and in the drinking utensils used (vv. 6-7) certainly convey opulence. There were “white cotton curtains” (‫ ,)חור כרפס‬which immediately indicates a foreign splendor, captivating the reader at this thing unheard of in Israel.40 The narrator then turns the eyes of the reader to the violet fabric (‫ ,)תכלת‬an undoubtedly royal color and image (for it is the same color of the king‟s royal robe later in Est 8:15), which was clasped with (literally) “chords of bysuss” (‫ ,)אחוז בחבלי־בוץ‬bysuss needing to be imported and thus again further demonstrating the wealth of the king.41 Next the eye of the reader is turned to “purple (cords) over rods (or rings) of silver (‫ ,)וארגמן על־גלילי כסף‬with “purple” showing up again in Est 8:15. Then the narrator continues his description with marble pillars, gold couches and gold drinking utensils, all of which convey the wealth and might of this king. In other words, the narrator goes through great lengths to illustrate the wealth and affluence of this king. The question then becomes, “For what purpose would the narrator spend this much time on the decorations of the feasts?” By understanding the narrator‟s use of the wayyiqtol, Est 1:1-11 all serve as background information, and the story does not progress from 1:1a until 1:12. Here the narrator‟s story continues. After providing a detailed description of the wealth and expanse of the king and his kingdom, the king gathers his companions and commands Vashti be brought before the king. The story resumes from 1:1a: “And Queen Vashti refused to come at the king‟s command.” This acte de résistance causes much speculation concerning the characterization of Vashti. Is the reader to understand her in a positive or negative light, and does she serve a literary function?42 Perhaps Berlin,7. Bechtel seems, for the most part, to follow Berlin‟s understanding, but she does, however, recognize that “even if we recognize some level of the burlesque in the book of Esther, it remains to be seen how fully it will play out with regard to the character of Ahasuerus” and that “what appears to be a characterization of abundance may, in fact, be a characterization of excess” (Bechtel, 22). 39 Mervin Breneman, Esther, New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 1993), 306. 40 Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament. Translated by M. E. J. Richardson. (Leiden: Brill Academic, 2002): 3:500. Hereafter referred to as HALOT. 41 HALOT, 116, states that bysuss was “imported from Edom” (Ezk 27:16) and “made in Palestine.” 42 See Michael V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther, 2d ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 164-70; Levenson, Esther, 47-9; Bar-Efrat, Narrative Art in the Bible, 33. Fox evaluates the character of Vashti and her refusal, summarizes past views of Vashti and her comparison with Esther, and he helpfully discusses the narrator‟s apparent lack of an explicit evaluation of Vashti, which Fox notes is also the case with Mordecai and Esther. Levenson considers Vashti to be analogous to both Mordecai and Esther. Bar-Efrat sagaciously notes, how- 38 11 the latter question is more appropriate. While Vashti may be analogous to other characters, in chapter one she is the object of kingly wrath (1:12b), and this is perhaps her literary function. Vashti‟s removal is proposed by one man, Memucan, who also proposes that a decree be sent out (a motif of Esther). Vashti‟s literary purpose as a lightning rod for judgment further characterizes the king. To say that this is Vashti‟s only purpose is lucidly false for she does seem to be a foil to Esther as well. But again, following the wayyiqtols, the beginning of the story is Vashti refused and the literary effect is powerful. The first real narrative verb is that of refusal, and this immediately does not bode well. The depth and attention given to detail in 1:1-11 certainly characterized the king in a sense, but it also set up the magnitude of Vashti‟s disobedience. Whether it was for noble reasons or not the text does not specify, but the simple fact is that Vashti disobeyed a very powerful and wealthy king. One would not expect the consequences to be positive. Continuing the story after Vashti‟s refusal, the king is enraged (1:12b). Up to this point, the story consists, according the use of wayyiqtols, of two (or three) events: (1) Vashti refuses; and (2) the king is enraged. 43 The narrator, using an x + qatal clause, further informs the reader that the kings anger burned within him. Understanding Vashti as primarily the object of kingly wrath is supported by the fact that 2:1 mentions again the anger of the king and the decree against Vashti. Then the servants propose a search for another young lady and this search ultimately brings Esther to the fore of the narrative.44 Verse 13 contains another wayyiqtol which simply states that the king spoke (‫ ,)ויאמר‬a typical form in narrative that anticipates direct speech (which occurs in v. 14). He asks his seven counselors, his confidants, and through the use of nominal clauses (providing further information to the reader), one learns that they are knowledgeable concerning “law and judgment”—they are twice described as “knowers” (from the root ‫ ,)ידע‬and thus the king takes counsel with “wise men” who are intimate with the law and judgment. This signals that the advice given by this counsel will be considered heavily by the king, not to mention that according to the text this was a custom of the king (1:13). Thus the king asks what is to be done with Vashti and, if we take Alter‟s general premise to be true, the significance of the words of the king should be observed.45 In the beginning of the king‟s speaking is the first occurrence of the yiqtol, supporting this paper‟s approach to wayyiqtols indicating narration, yiqtols (and qatals) discourse, and qat- ever, concerning a narrator‟s view of a character, “In actual fact, there is no such thing as a totally objective narration.” 43 This depends on whether the first wayyiqtol (the ‫ )ויהי‬is counted. Forrest Weiland, “Plot Structure in the Book of Esther,” Bibliotheca Sacra 159 (2002): 279. Weiland notes as well that this event brings Esther to the foreground of the narrative, however, he does not do this on a grammatical basis, that is, by following wayyiqtols—or he never explicitly says so. 45 Alter, 74. Alter writes, “In any given narrative event, and especially, at the beginning of any new story, the point at which dialogue first emerges will be worthy of special attention, and in most instances, the initial words spoken by a personage will be revelatory, perhaps more in manner than in matter, constituting an important moment in the exposition of character. 44 12 als background (or other) information.46 In verse 15, the king requests what is to be done “according to the law” (‫ .)כדת‬Elsie Sterns aptly notes the almost comical way that law is a motif in Esther, and she also addresses the gravity of law in Esther, acknowledging that law in Esther is used for serious and trivial matters as well.47 Immediately, Alter‟s words prove true in that a major theme is introduced within the king‟s words. Indeed, everything seems to get accomplished through decrees and laws. This is the interpretation of Bush, who does not take this as the king requesting the wise men to tell him what the law was, but rather as an investigation into what legal precedent should be set for a disobedient queen.48 Within the direct speech the king also provides his reasoning for the request concerning Vashti (by the causal ‫ ,)על אשר‬namely, she disobeyed (or literally, “she did not do”) the command of the king. The next wayyiqtol introduces Memucan‟s direct speech, interpreting Vashti‟s disobedience not only as against the king but against “all the officials and all the peoples” (1:16). Memucan‟s speech is where the narrative enters the level of discourse and narrative time freezes as Memucan advises the king. With this direct speech, the author seems less apparent and the reader is given front-row access to the dialogue taking place. Memucan provides the rationale for this statement in verse 16, namely that the queen‟s behavior would have empire-wide consequences. Memucan has a general concern that the pattern of Vashti‟s behavior would cause widespread uprising and disobedience among the women of the empire. The response is profoundly ironic in light of 1:1-11 where the king is portrayed as powerful and mighty, yet he and his counselors are reduced to fear and paranoia, and this is only the first of many instances of irony within Esther. Michael Fox comments that the narrator “sees the reaction of Xerxes and his noblemen to Vashti‟s refusal as ludicrous and self-defeating.”49 Verse 21 ends the direct speech of Memucan, which contained only yiqtols and qatals, and now switches back to the use of the wayyiqtol to advance the story, namely, that Memucan‟s words pleased the king and he acted accordingly. Verse 22 indicates that the story continues with the sending of the letters. The language within v. 22 of writing to each province “each in its own script” and to every people “in its own language” occurs later in the story as well. Thus the first chapter (and section) of the book comes to a close with the bones of the narrative being that there was a king, his queen disobeyed and she is to be removed and replaced. The decree for this to happen goes out and the king does accordingly. Thus the rest of the story flows from this situaAs a point of clarification, the qatal does occur in discourse passages but the primary tense used is the yiqtol. A qatal that is not in direct speech is what is referred to when speaking of it functioning as “background.” 47 Elsie R. Stern, “Esther and the Politics of Diaspora,” Jewish Quarterly Review 100 (2010): 33-6. Stern‟s section on law in Esther is particularly helpful. 48 Bush, Ruth, Esther, 350; Levenson, Esther, 51. Levenson argues that the question that the king poses is “redolent of legalism and altogether lacking in feeling. The issue is one of precedent and procedure; the element of human relations fails to come into the king‟s view.” The king does not seem to be lacking feeling, however, for the narrator informs that the king was angry and this anger is not abated until 2:1. So the king is very much acting passionately, albeit not for his wife and queen, but rather, as Levenson correctly notes, by concern for precedent and procedure. 49 Fox, 209. 46 13 tion, the need of a replacement and the effects of this replacement. This first chapter is, as Levenson notes, what gives us a faint preview of what is to come, namely the procedures of the court and “gives some subtle but essential preview of the major action of the book.”50 In the narrative of chapter one a major character is introduced, namely, the king, and through the background information provided by qatals, this king has all the signs of being immensely powerful and wealthy. The narrative begins, however, with the queen refusing the orders of the king, immediately challenging the decree of the king. The king becomes angry and seeks to act on his wrath. Through wayyiqtols which introduce direct speech (yiqtols) the narrator brings the reader into the meeting to hear the words of Memucan to the king, thus informing the reader of the content of the decree. The following wayyiqtols narrate that the decree pleased the king, that he acted upon it, and that the decree was sent out. At the risk of sounding repetitive, the “bones” of the narrative (wayyiqtols) are that there was a king, and his queen refused him, the king spoke to his counselors, his counselors counseled, and the king was pleased with one of his counselor‟s recommendations and acted in accordance with it. This decree goes out to all the provinces of the king. This understanding of Esther 1 makes a strong case for Esther being the central character of the book. While this may seem like an unnecessary clarification, the narrative of chapter one seems to support this understanding. This exposition sets up the situation that introduces Esther in the first place, for without this exposition there would be no explanation for the anger of the king, why he was picking a queen, etc. The exposition also serves as immediately characterizing the wealth and power of the king. The king is mighty and powerful, and yet he is human, angered by disobedience and one who carries out what pleases him. In characterizing the king in such a manner, a motif is set up throughout the rest of the book, namely, the king does what pleases him, or in the words of Esther, “what is pleasing in his eyes.” The narrator plays off this concept in several ways: (1) Ahasuerus‟ servants suggest that the woman who pleases (‫ )יטב‬the king should rule instead of Vashti (Est 2:4); (2) Esther pleases (‫ )יטב‬the king and gains his favor (‫ )חסד‬in Est 2:9; and (3) Haman was pleased (‫ )יטב‬at the advice to construct the gallows for Mordecai. Five times the phrase “if it seems good to the king” occurs within Esther (1:19; 3:9; 5:4; 8:5; 9:13) all of which appear in contexts of suggesting actions for the king, most famously in Esther‟s repeated requests to the king Ahasuerus. Thus the king will act on what pleases him and this concept is introduced within Esther 1. In summary, Esther 1 introduces the king and all his sumptuousness, his supremacy and his extensive dominion, and despite all of this his queen disobeys him—what an unexpected action that a queen would disobey such a mighty and powerful king! It is this event that brings Esther into the fray of the narrative. All of chapter one sets the stage for Esther, introduces major themes that recur throughout the rest of the book, and all of chapter one is essential to making sense to the rest of the narrative. The focus of the narrative begins with the span of the entire kingdom and quickly narrows its focus to one person, Queen Vashti, and then by the end of Es50 Levenson, Esther, 53. 14 ther 1 the view is broadened again with decrees going throughout the whole kingdom. This concept is seen again later in Esther when the fate of one man, Mordecai, serves as the basis for the extermination of an entire race, and likewise his exaltation results in the preservation of an entire race. There is certainly more that could be said about Esther 1 and its significance to the rest of the narrative, but it hopefully should suffice to say that Esther 1 is beautiful, provocative introduction to an equally beautiful and provocative narrative. Appendix 1 Reference51 E01.01a E01.01b E01.02a E01.02b E01.03a E01.03b E01.04a E01.04b E01.05a1 E01.05b E01.06a E01.06b E01.07a E01.07b E01.08a E01.08b E01.09a Waw52 W 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 W 0 0 0 W W W 0 0 Clause53 WAYYIQTOL n/a n/a n/a X + QATAL n/a n/a n/a X + QATAL n/a n/a n/a n/a n/a n/a n/a X + QATAL V/I/N54 Narrative/Discourse55 V N N N I N N N I N N N N N N N I NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR Verses are divided based on verse division relative to the ʾaṯnaḥ and then by the number of clauses within each division. Thus, for example, E01.12a is the entire text before the ʾaṯnaḥ in 1:12. But the text after the ʾaṯnaḥ is divided into two clauses (by the presence of the wayyiqtol and the qatal) and thus it is noted as E01.12b1 and E01.12b2. 52 This column simply marks the presence (“W”) or the lack thereof (“0”) of a waw at the beginning of the clause. 53 This column marks the type of clause, whether wayyiqtol, an x + qatal, or if there is no finite verb (“n/a”). Perhaps here it is best to mention, as in n. 5 above, that qatal is fairly regular in certain clauses and as the clauses are usually subordinate to the main clause, they are not represented here graphically. 54 This column identifies whether the clause is verbal (V), that is, the verb is in the first position of the clause, or an inverted (I) clause in which case something precedes the verb in the clause, or if it is simply a nominal clause (N). 55 This column graphically represents whether the text is narration (“NAR”) or direct speech (discourse, “DIS”). 51 15 0 0 0 0 0 W W W W W 0 0 W 0 0 0 W W W W W W W W W W W E01.09b E01.10a E01.10b E01.11a E01.11b E01.12a E01.12b1 E01.12b2 E01.13a E01.14a E01.14b E01.15a E01.16a1 E01.16a2 E01.17a E01.17b E01.18a E01.18b E01.19a1 E01.19a2 E01.19b1 E01.19b2 E01.20a E01.20b E01.21a E01.21b E01.22a n/a n/a QATAL n/a n/a WAYYIQTOL WAYYIQTOL X + QATAL WAYYIQTOL n/a n/a n/a WAYYIQTOL QATAL n/a X + QATAL YIQTOL n/a YIQTOL YIQTOL YIQTOL YIQTOL QATAL X + YIQTOL WAYYIQTOL WAYYIQTOL WAYYIQTOL N N V N N V V I V N N N V V N I V N V V V V V I V V V NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR NAR DIS? NAR DIS DIS DIS DIS DIS DIS DIS DIS DIS DIS DIS NAR NAR NAR