Intertextuality

Three of our literary categories involve a combination of repetition and variation, and it behooves us to differentiate between the three. I created the term "twice-told tales" (Sternberg's "structure of repetition") to describe a single episode that is related multiple times. For example, the narrator and Yosef’s brothers both depict the reactions of the Egyptian official, and Eishet Potiphar tells her tale of assault to two different audiences. This differs from both type-scenes and intertextuality, both of which involve analyzing the relationship between multiple stories.

In the case of type-scenes, we work off a Platonic ideal model, such as a groom traveling to a foreign land where he meets his future bride at a well and draws water. She runs home to inform her family, and they invite the groom for a meal. The reader can then see how each version emulates or differs from the basic model. Intertextuality, by contrast, links two different stories, with the latter playing off the former. Scholars analyze how Biblical authors draw connections to earlier Biblical material through a series of linguistic and thematic parallels. While this method of analysis does run the risk of potential overuse, some examples are incredibly convincing. The most outstanding example may be the parallel between the concubine in Givah (Shoftim 19) and the story of Lot in Sodom. In both stories, guests come to a town and find some hospitality. The townspeople come and demand that the host bring out the guests so that they may "know them.” Lot offers his daughters instead of the guests, and the host in Givah offers his daughter and the concubine in place of the guest. The thematic connections seem quite strong, and are buttressed by numerous identical phrases:

They had not yet lain down when the men of the city, the men of Sodom, drew round the house, both young and old, all the people from every quarter.

And they called to Lot, and said to him: “Where are the men that came in to you tonight? Bring them out unto us, that we may know them.”

And Lot went out to them at the entrance, closing the door after him. And he said: “Please my brothers do no harm. Behold now, I have two daughters that have not known man; let me bring them out to you, and do with them as is good in your eyes; only to these men do nothing, for have they not come under the shadow of my roof?” (Bereishit 19:4-7; all translations based on JPS and Alter)

As they were making their hearts merry, behold, the men of the city, men of ill repute, drew round the house, pounding on the door; and they spoke to the old man who was master of the house, saying: “Bring forth the man that came into your house, that we may know him.”

And the man who was master of the house went out to them, and said to them: “No, my brothers, please do no harm. Seeing that this man has come into my house, do not do this scurrilous thing. Behold, here is my daughter, a virgin, and his concubine; I will bring them out now, and afflict them, and do with them as is good in your eyes; but to this man do not so wanton a thing.” (Shoftim 19:22-24)

Given the nearly identical phrasing, the author of Sefer Shoftim clearly wanted readers to associate the two episodes. Let us begin with the implications of the comparison before moving on to the contrast. If Sodom symbolizes the height of corruption in Biblical society, then the parallel makes the painful point that a Jewish city in Binyamin can morally deteriorate to the point where it resembles Sodom. Indeed, prophets who criticize Israel often compare our people to Sodom (Yeshayahu 1:9-10, Yechezkel 16:48, Eikha 4:6).

At the same time, great similarities make the subtle differences between two accounts all the more noticeable. In the latter story, “men of ill repute” come to the house. In the former, it is “the people of Sodom…. from young to old, all the people from every quarter.” The Sodom account emphasizes how the entire town turned up for this. I have always been struck by the mention of the youth ("mi-na’ar ve-ad zaken"); was sodomizing guests a night activity run by the community youth department? Perhaps the Givah crime, at least, was the work of a specific group and not a full town project.

Ramban explains that Sodom culture objected to hospitality on principle, and this is why they came en masse to rape the guests. Their motivation was not sexual; it stemmed instead from a desire to deter any future visitors. Having settled a lush land, they wanted to keep all the bounty for themselves. For this reason, the offer of Lot’s daughters, who already lived there, failed to placate them. Indeed, the prophet Yechezkel (16:49) portrays indifference to the poor as the essential sin of Sodom (see Ramban's commentary on Bereishit 19:8). In contrast, the Givah episode reflected the transgressions of some ruffians but not a town-wide ethic. Thus, the Israelites did not fully resemble the people of Sodom.

The idea that Sodomite culture abhorred kindness leads R. Hirsch to a profound comment. Avraham asks God to spare the city if he can find fifty righteous people "within the city" (18:26). R. Hirsch distinguishes between two types of corrupt societies. Some communities practice evil but tolerate goodness even as they mock it. In such a place, one can find a modicum of decency within the city and some hope remains. In the other model, goodness itself becomes a transgression worthy of prosecution. One thinks of the Nazis making it a capital crime for Poles to save Jews. There, no righteous people can be found "within the city." Once a society arrives at that level of corruption, no hope remains, and destruction is imminent.

The overwhelming parallels between the stories of Esther and Yosef provide another clear example of intertextuality. Thematically, both stories tell about a Jew rising to power in a gentile royal court and saving his or her brethren. Each of them also hides his or her identity in one way or another. Linguistically, there is a plethora of identical phrases in the two biblical accounts. Esther Rabba (7:8) notes two linguistic parallels between Yosef and Mordechai and says the two of them faced similar tests and won comparable rewards for passing those tests. For instance, each managed to resist daily pressure: Eishet Potiphar spoke to Yosef "day after day but he would not listen to her" (Bereishit 39:9); the king's servants ask Mordechai why he does not bow to Haman "day after day but he did not listen to them" (Esther 3:4). We further read, in their respective stories:

And Pharaoh removed his ring from his hand and put it on Yosef's hand and had him clothed in fine linen clothes and placed the golden collar round his neck. And he had him ride in the chariot of his viceroy, and they called out before him Avrekh, setting him over all the land of Egypt. (Bereishit 41:42-43)

And let them dress the man whom the king desires to honor and ride him on the horse through the city square and call out before him, "Thus shall be done to the man whom the king desires to honor." (Esther 6:9)

And the king removed his ring that he had taken from Haman and he gave it to Mordechai. (Esther 8:2)

Gavriel Cohen cites numerous other linguistic parallels (Iyunim be-Chamesh Ha-Meggilot, Israel 2006, p. 311-316), including:

Appoint officials for the land…. And let them gather all the food of those good years… And the thing was pleasing in Pharaoh's eyes." (Bereishit 41:34-37)

And let the king appoint officials in all provinces of his kingdom, and every young virgin woman comely to look at be gathered in Shushan… And the thing was pleasing in the eyes of the king. (Esther 2:3-4)

And forty full days were taken for him, as such is the full time of embalming." (Bereishit 50:3)

And when each young woman's turn came to come to the king, at the conclusion of her having twelve months, according to the woman's rule, for such is the full time of their beauty treatments." (Esther 2:12)

Beyond the overall comparison between the stories, Cohen finds more specific meaning in these two parallels: the first compares women to grain, and the second compares beautifying a woman to embalming the dead. Persian society treats woman as objects to be enjoyed. Thus, the king feels comfortable asking Vashti to parade her looks before an entire party and the preparation for a night with the monarch includes the exaggerated time of a year immersed in various treatments.

Yonatan Grossman discusses the point of the larger parallel in a chapter in his book on Esther (Grossman, Esther: Megillat Setarim (Maggid 2013 p. 57-259). He considers possibilities such as that parallelism adds aesthetic pleasure or that it conveys the cyclical and repetitive nature of Jewish History.

Two other theories discussed by Grossman take an element of the Yosef story and apply it to Esther. One notes that God does not explicitly act in the entire extended Yosef story, yet Yosef continuously attributes his successes and even his sale into slavery to divine providence. God famously does not appear in Megillat Esther, but the sensitive reader can feel Him pulling the strings. Yosef's interpretation of his own story can shed light on God's role in the Purim episode.

The final approach also carries theological implications. One could view both stories as indicating the capacity for Jewish flourishing in foreign lands or as conveying the precarious nature of Jewish life in exile. Regarding the Yosef story, despite our hero's great accomplishments, the Jewish sojourn in Egypt ultimately leads to centuries of servitude and suffering. Not quite a happy ending. Grossman suggests we apply this point to the end of the Esther episode. Although Esther and Mordechai have helped the Jews escape death, Am Yisrael remains subject to the whims of a capricious king and Esther is stuck being married to him. One of the Talmud's reasons for not reciting Hallel on Purim is that "we are still servants to Achashverosh" (Megilla 14a). For both Yosef and Esther, the salvation retains a bittersweet quality. (For a discussion of the anti-galuti reading of Esther, see my review of Grossman’s work in Tradition, Spring 2013.)

Grossman also makes a broader point about intertextuality in this context. Some scholars contend that the parallels must remain consistent throughout a book in order to be viewed as a case of intertextuality – so Yosef must be similar to either Mordechai or Esther for the entire volume. Grossman disagrees, noting that some parallels relate to Mordechai (receiving the ring), while others relate to Esther (a governmental act of gathering), and they both work. He employs the term "dynamic analogies" to describe this aspect of intertextuality.

Quantitative and qualitative factors help us ascertain when intertextual claims are convincing and when are they forced. A myriad of parallels obviously beats one or two, and a combination of thematic and linguistic similarities makes the case for a meaningful connection more definitive. On the qualitative side, the case is stronger in situations where we would have expected a different word choice, or where a repeated phrase is unusual. For instance, in one of our Esther/Yosef parallels above, the phrase ki ken yimle’u yemei (“the full time of”) appears only twice in Tanakh, making a connection between the two instances more likely.

The argument from only two appearances carries weight, but I would not make it into a universal rule – and in fact, I challenge it somewhat in my review of Grossman. The phrase kakha yei’aseh la-ish only appears twice in Scripture, in the context of a chalitza ceremony Devarim 25:9) and when Haman leads Mordechai around on the royal horse (Esther 6:9). At face value, the Mordechai story bears little resemblance to chalitza, and the phrase may simply happen to appear twice. Both Grossman and David Henschke think there is an intended connection, revolving around honor. For Henschke, the parallel to spitting in a shoe shows what Esther's author thinks about the "honor" of kings and aristocrats (see Henschke's article in Megadim 23). I leave it to readers to decide if they find this convincing.

Next week, we will deepen our understanding of intertextuality and analyze some more interesting examples.