Literary Narrative (PDF transcription)

Source: Dictionary of the Old Testament: Pentateuch, edited by T. Desmond Alexander and David W. Baker (InterVarsity Press, 2003).

The following text follows the supplied PDF's order: excerpts from printed pages 536–544, then the book's title and copyright pages. The scan begins and ends mid-entry. Text was recovered by optical character recognition (OCR); unusual spellings, punctuation, reference numbers and Hebrew terms should be checked against the original PDF before quotation or publication.

Sheol as “grave” is inadequate).

The phrase “gathered to his peoples” (lit.) only occurs in the OT for the death of Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, Moses and Aaron (Gen 25:8, 17; 35:29; 49:29, 33; Num 20:24; 27:13). This “gathering” is distinct from death and burial (cf. Gen 25:7-8) and implies joining one’s ancestors in the afterlife, though the location is never defined and the concept not otherwise developed (though cf. Ps 49:19). (The plural “peoples” for one’s kinship group is confined mostly to the Pentateuch, indicating the section’s distinctiveness and perhaps antiquity.)

Consultation of the dead is repeatedly and strictly forbidden, and its practitioners were to be executed by stoning (Lev 19:31; 20:6, 27; Deut 18:11; see Divination, Magic). This is one practice for which Canaan’s inhabitants are condemned. Israel, by contrast, was to follow Yahweh’s *prophet (Deut 18:14-15). There is growing extrabiblical evidence that among Israel’s neighbors the dead were revered, consulted and appeased, and these practices were a constant temptation to Israel (cf. 1 Sam 28; 2 Kings 23:24; Is 8:19). But for Israel the world of the dead was cut off from Yahweh, and its exploration firmly forbidden (see Johnston). Yahweh is the author of life and the God of the living, and this life is the sphere of obedience and blessing.

See also BLESSINGS AND CURSES; BODILY INJURIES, MURDER, MANSLAUGHTER; BURIAL AND MOURNING; HOLY AND HOLINESS, CLEAN AND UNCLEAN.

Bibliography. L. R. Bailey, Beblical Perspectives on Death (OBT; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979); J. Barr, The Garden of Eden and the Hope of Immortality (London: SCM, 1992); S. G. Browne, “Leprosy and the Bible,” in B. Palmer, ed., Medicine and the Bible (Exeter: Paternoster, 1986) 101- 25; J. W. Cooper, Body, Soul and Life Everlasting (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989); A. S. Darling, “The Levitical Code: Hygiene or Holiness,” in B. Palmer, ed., Medicine and the Bible (Exeter: Paternoster, 1986) 85-99; K.-J. Illman and H.-J. Fabry, “[Hebrew term],” TDOT 8.185-209; P. S. Johnston, Shades of Sheol: Death and the Afterlife in the Old Testament (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2002); M. A. Knibb, “Life and Death in the Old Testament,” in The World of Ancient Israel, ed. R. E. Clements (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989) 395-415; J. T. Marmal, “An Epidemiological Analysis of the Ten Plagues of Egypt,” Caduceus 12.1 (1996) 7-24; R. Martin-Achard, From Death to Life (Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1960); K. H. Richards, “Death,” ABD 2.108-10; H. Ringgren, “7°11 ktA,” TDOT 4.324-44; R Rosner, Medicine in the Bible and the Talmud (New York: Ktav, 1977); M. Sussman, “Sickness and Disease,” ABD 6.6-15. P. S. Johnston

LIGHT. See Creation.

LINEAR GENEALOGY. See Genealogies.

LITERACY. See Writing.

Literary/Narrative Criticism

Literary criticism, like *historical criticism, encompasses an array of analytical methods that focus on certain fundamental concerns and questions. Historical critics view the biblical text as a lens through which the skilled observer may gaze into Israel’s past and thereby discover those events, processes and contexts that shape its meaning. Put another way, historical critics approach the Pentateuch from a diachronic (literally “through time”) perspective that concentrates on the dynamic process by which the Pentateuch came into being. Literary critics, on the other hand, view the biblical text as a cut gemstone, a thing of beauty in its own right. Generally speaking, they adopt a synchronic (“same time”) perspective that focuses on the literary character of the Pentateuch as a subject worthy of study in and of itself. Literary approaches therefore tend to forego questions of history and external referents in favor of others that explore the ways in which the Pentateuch communicates as a written work of art.

Article outline

• 1. Literary Study of the Pentateuch
• 2. Hebrew Narrative and the Pentateuch

1. Literary Study of the Pentateuch

1.1. The Transformation of Literary Criticism

As conceived within the context of the historical-critical enterprise, literary study of the Pentateuch involved the identification of sources and the description of the editorial process by which they were combined and modified. Literary criticism as utilized by historical critics thus consisted of delineating and describing the Yahwist, Elohist, Deuteronomic and Priestly sources (and debating the existence and extent of other materials), meticulously fitting pentateuchal texts within a scheme and speculating on the sequence and time periods in which the various strands were redacted. Although this type of historical-critical study of texts had run its course in literary circles by the 1930s, it continued as the dominant paradigm for the study of pentateuchal texts for another forty years.

By the 1970s, however, many biblical critics had begun to explore alternative ways of studying the Pentateuch as a literary text. The shift derived in part from a dissatisfaction with the so-called assured results of biblical criticism. On the one hand, there was a growing sense that the achievements of historical criticism were anything but “assured.” The relative paucity of historical data available to address questions of history and composition meant that answers to questions of composition remained largely speculative. On the other hand, the atomistic tendencies of literary-critical analysis created a measure of discontent with “results,” especially within the church and synagogue. Dissection of the Pentateuch into component sources did not adequately address the needs of faith communities that incorporated the canonical form of the texts in preaching and liturgy and whose participants were largely unfamiliar with or disinterested in the complex methods utilized by scholars.

The new openness to literary methods gained momentum in the mid-1970s with the establishment of two new journals—Semeia (by the Society of Biblical Literature) and Journal for the Study of the Old Testament (by the University of Sheffield)—which published significant articles by scholars interested in pushing the discipline in new directions. Overall, the impact of the literary approaches was swift and decisive. In 1971, for example, the volume entitled Literary Criticism of the Old Testament in the popular series Guides to Biblical Scholarship introduced its readers to the topic with an analysis of the sources behind the *creation and *flood accounts in Genesis and descriptions of the Yahwist and Priestly perspectives (Habel). By 1977, however, the situation within biblical scholarship had changed so dramatically that the series revisited literary study with The Old Testament and the Literary Critic, a much different treatment that offered, among other readings, a structural comparison between Exodus 1—15 and The Bacchae of Euripides (Robertson). Subsequent decades witnessed an increased appreciation for the contribution of literary study, with the result that literary criticism, as distinct from historical criticism, assumed a prominent place in the study of the Pentateuch. What was formerly called literary criticism has now been redefined by such terms as “source analysis” or *“source criticism” in all but a few instances (e.g., Steck, 59-63).

1.2. Structuralism

Structuralism was among the first literary methods to make inroads into the study of the Pentateuch. Deriving from the field of linguistics, structuralism holds that what is true of language at the most fundamental level (sounds, words and sentences) is also true of larger utterances such as narratives. That is, narratives function in a manner analogous to language. Speech appropriates the sounds and structures of a particular language system and can be understood by those familiar with that system. In a similar way, structuralists argue, narratives make use of a finite set of fixed structures and can be understood because those conventions are recognizable. Structuralists are interested in the manipulation of these structures and seek to identify the way they are appropriated in particular narrative units.

Structuralism promised a measure of objectivity and thus was able to present itself as a viable alternative to historical-critical study of the Pentateuch. One particularly influential study was that of French critic R. Barthes, who applied a structuralist paradigm to Genesis 32:23-32 (*Jacob’s wrestling match at the Jabbok). Barthes showed that the episode appropriates the elements of a story common in folklore (the hero’s quest) but combines the elements of the pattern in surprising ways. The originator of the quest (Yahweh) is also the opponent Jacob faces, reflecting (Barthes argued) Israel’s determination to avoid a dualistic theology. Subsequent studies, notably D. Jobling’s essays on Genesis 2:4b— 3:24 and Numbers 32 (with Josh 22) and S. Kunin’s on Genesis 22, demonstrated structural-ism’s usefulness for addressing the tensions and ambiguities of particularly thorny texts. Overall, however, structuralism has a limited impact on the study of the Pentateuch.

1.3. Narrative Criticism and Poetics

Narrative criticism’s entry into pentateuchal studies coincided with structuralism’s but quickly overshadowed it. Sharing structuralism’s interest in the formative influence of conventions, narrative criticism draws from a variety of theoretical approaches, although rhetorical criticism, Anglo-American New Criticism and Russian formalism are often cited as formative influences. Central to the method is an interest in the ways that a story is shaped into a narrative. Narrative criticism commonly distinguishes between “story” and “narrative,” story being an abstraction that becomes concrete when given utterance through the medium of narrative. Since a story may be told, or narrated, in any number of ways, narrative critics undertake a close reading of texts in order to discern the narrator’s strategies and message. Through analysis of the techniques and devices that configure a narrative, the critic attempts to discern the interests, perspectives and purposes of the narrator.

R. Alter’s The Art of Biblical Narrative (1981) stimulated interest in the approach with an engaging discussion of the distinctive features of Hebrew narrative. Works by A. Berlin (1983), S. Bar-Efrat (1989), M. Sternberg (1985), and D. M. Gunn and D. N. Fewell (1993) followed, some of which employed the term poetics to describe the new approach. (The term poetics extends narrative criticism’s interests to other genres and often functions as a de facto equivalent of “narrative criticism” within OT studies.) Genesis became a particular focal point for analysis, with comprehensive studies (Fokkelman; White) supplementing a burgeoning corpus of articles and essays (see House). As with structuralism, narrative criticism was especially persuasive when dealing with difficult texts and issues. For example, an early essay by R. Polzin on the three “endangered ancestress” stories (Gen 12; 20; 26) showed that the stories work together to effect significant transformations, an attribute of the stories lost on composition critics who saw them only as variations of a common tradition. Alter (3-12) presented the story of Tamar and Judah (Gen 38) as a showcase for his literary argument. Historical critics had viewed the text as a vexing interpolation, but Alter’s analysis revealed that it served an integral function within the larger narrative, namely, to confirm the reversal of the law of primogeniture that constitutes the theme of the surrounding story of *Joseph. Along similar lines, M. Sternberg (441-81) elaborated the persuasive and complex rhetorical strategy of the rape of Dinah, another text that had long frustrated interpreters.

Narrative-critical studies also extended to the Pentateuch as a whole. D. J. A. Clines (1978) argued that the entire Pentateuch is unified by a prominent theme: the partial fulfillment of the *promises to the patriarchs. T. Mann echoed many of Clines’s points, while drawing a connection between the sense of incompleteness communicated by the Pentateuch and that experienced by its reader. Writing from an evangelical perspective, J. Sailhamer traced the narrative strategy of the Pentateuch, which he described as historical narrative. On a smaller scale, I. Kika-wada and A. Quinn utilized literary analysis to argue that Genesis 1—11 is a unified work with parallels to the Babylonian Atrahasis Epic, and J. Rosenberg identified a number of structural symmetries in the garden story and *Abraham cycle.

1.4. New Literary Approaches

The 1980s and 1990s witnessed an increasing diversity of reading strategies as biblical scholars continued to draw on the panoply of methods and approaches characteristic of current literary theory (House). Though vastly different in goals and strategies, the newer strains of literary criticism as a whole presume the indeterminacy of the text and the subjectivity of interpretation, challenging more fundamentally the aims of the historical-critical method and the exegetical program that derives from it. They disavow the notion that any biblical text has one (right) meaning that can be determined by the correct application of “scientific” methods and deny that any interpreter can interpret a text with complete objectivity.

The new critical approaches do not establish clearly defined procedures so much as they reflect self-conscious reading postures. Reader-response criticism focuses on the role and participation of the reader in the production of meaning. Ideological criticism is concerned with the manner in which biblical texts and their interpreters articulate and reinforce systems of power and dominance. Feminist criticism (sometimes included under the rubric of ideological criticism) seeks to align the reader with the experience of women, challenging the patriarchal elements of the biblical texts and interpretations that contribute to the oppression of women. Psychoanalytic criticism applies the concerns of psychoanalysis (e.g., guilt and desire, remembering, generational conflict and inheritance, the fatherhood and otherness of God) to the interpretation of texts. Deconstruction argues that a text advances perspectives and values by negating their opposites, asserts that meaning is ultimately relational rather than absolute and seeks to dismantle the coherence of a text by identifying its aporia, the points at which the text contradicts itself. The related program of intertextuality also denies the autonomy of the text and demonstrates the slipperiness of meaning by revealing how meaning changes when a given text is read alongside others.

Contemporary literary criticism of the Pentateuch can therefore best be characterized as eclectic, and the boundary between criticism and creative writing often blurs as new readings generate new texts. Eschewing the idea that there is one “correct” reading, literary criticism now Offers a variety of ways into a biblical text. A few examples will suffice to illustrate the current situation. Clines, adopting a reader-response approach, revisits the “endangered ancestress” stories and, reading them within their literary context, concludes that the “danger” is more of the patriarch’s own contrivance. Addressing the same stories, J. C. Exum applies a psychoanalytic approach that sees, in the repetition and variations of the stories, the working through of a neurosis deriving from male anxiety over the control of women’s sexuality. Taking issue with M. Sternberg’s assertion that the poetics of the text guide the reader to certain evaluative responses, D. N. Fewell and D. Gunn (1991, 193- 211) press for a reading of the rape of Dinah that is more self-consciously ideological, overturning Sternberg’s evaluation of the characters and the putative moral point made by the story. Like Alter, Gunn and Fewell lift up the story of *Judah and *Tamar as a paradigm for narrative criticism (1993, 34-45) but emphasize instead the ambiguities in the story. Tamar, who acts as a prostitute, is more righteous than Judah the ancestral patriarch, yet her story is ultimately subsumed by Judah’s.

2. Hebrew Narrative and the Pentateuch

2.1. The Nature of Narrative

Human beings tell stories to make sense of the world and their experience within it. By ascribing significance to events and establishing connections between them, individuals and groups construct narratives that ascribe order and coherence and confirm the conviction that life has meaning, that somehow all the disparate facets of existence fit together and make sense. Narratives thus present a view of “what life is like,” infused with the perspectives, values, aspirations and self-identity of those who construct them. Critical reading of narratives, then, begins first of all with the recognition that narratives are imaginative, written works of art that convey particular notions about the nature of reality. This starting point is a crucial corrective to readings that, under the influence of a prevailing historical consciousness, read pentateuchal narratives as a strict recounting of historical facts. Narrative criticism makes no judgments about whether the events recounted actually happened. (That is the purview of historical criticism.) Instead, it seeks insight into the way biblical stories are presented and from thence to the worldview, ideologies or theology that it communicates. Put simply, narrative critics assert that narratives have a point to make and thus should be read on two levels, with attention both to content and narration.

One of narrative criticism’s most significant contributions has been the discovery and description of the distinctive character of Hebrew narrative. Diverse cultures do not tell stories in the same way. The fact would seem obvious, but in practice the chasm between the conventions encoded in biblical narrative and those that configure the Western literary tradition has not been readily apparent. For centuries the Pentateuch has been read as though it were a compendium of principles, a series of moral tractates or a scientific textbook that, when properly dissected, yields the concrete affirmations demanded by dogma. However, reading Hebrew narrative on its own terms suggests that it may not so much seek to answer questions as to raise them, not so much set out concrete norms as prompt contemplation. As E. Auerbach noted in his classic comparison of the stories of *Abraham and Odysseus, Hebrew narrative is characteristically laconic and mysterious. Possessing an “imaginative subtlety” (Alter, 88), it is typically short on detail and compact in language, heightening a sense of ambiguity by leaving significant gaps in the story. Where, for example, did *Cain’s wife come from? Why did Yahweh seek to kill *Moses on his way back to Egypt? Why are the Midianites judged at Baal Peor but not the Moabites? (And why are the Midianites there in the first place?) The purpose of this “gapping” is much debated, and conclusions tend to coincide with assumptions regarding the determinacy or indeterminacy of the biblical text. Those strongly in the “poetics” camp, such as Sternberg, argue that the narrator provides clues about how the gaps are to be filled and speak of “legitimate gap-filling” and right hypotheses (Sternberg, 186-229). Those who accord the reader a greater role in the production of meaning see in these gaps the seedbed for a variety of valid readings (e.g., Gunn and Fewell 1993, 46- 52, 155-58). Whatever the case, the playful openness of Hebrew narrative powerfully imitates the experience of life, where answers are not always apparent and meaning can be elusive.

Recently, more attention has been given to the way in which the narratives of the Pentateuch encode values and shape a sense of identity. A case in point are those stories that deal with the other peoples of Israel’s world (the curse of Canaan, *Lot and his daughters, *Hagar and *Sarah, etc.). Conventional reading of these stories has yielded theological and moralistic interpretations. But when we acknowledge narrative’s role in defining a community’s sense of itself and its place in the world, the characters of Genesis acquire deep symbolic resonances. Jacob/Israel, for example, is at once an individual and the nation, and the stories associated with him and others express the community’s convictions about its distinctiveness, as well as its perceptions of the neighboring peoples. Jacob is not physically powerful but is very clever. His story is united by the theme of transaction. Virtually every episode involves negotiation and deal making, articulating Israel’s sense of being a small mercantile nation between great powers, a nation that must live by its collective wits in order to survive and prosper. On the other hand, the stories portraying the Canaanites, Moabites and Ammonites (the peoples closest to the Israelites both in proximity and ethnicity) recognize a common lineage but associate them in repugnant terms with sexual deviance (Gen 9:20-27; 19:30-38; 34:1-3), expressing a common tendency to project reprehensible attributes to groups nearest one’s own. *Esau/Edom is also depicted in unflattering terms, but his nomadic lifestyle diminishes his proximity to Israel, and his interactions with Jacob indicate a tenuous rapprochement between the two peoples. Stories associated with Philistia and Aram (the other key players in Israel’s part of the world) convey a sense of parity. “Isaac negotiates on an equal footing with the Philistine king *Abimelech (Gen 96:12-31), and Laban, an: other close relative who lives in Paddan-aram displays every bit as much savvy as Jacob (Ger 99:1-21; 30:25-43; 31:1-55). Finally, the storie dealing with Hagar manifest Israel’s attempt to define itself apart from Egypt, the land where it dwelt for centuries. In the case of Hagar, the tables are turned. She is the slave who is cast out into the desert, where she encounters the promising God (Gen 16:1-16; 21:1-21).

2.2. The Ordering of Events

Because human beings perceive events with a consciousness of their location in time, narratives utilize time as a means of organizing, explaining and evaluating experience. Telling a story thus requires decisions about how to situate it within time. Where and how will the story begin? How and when will it end? In what order will the events be presented? In addition, events must be connected so as to explain their significance and to impart a sense of the whole. The narrator therefore has other questions to address. What events and information will be included and what will be left out? Of those events that are included, which will be emphasized and expanded? How will the significance of particular events be conveyed? And how will the perceived relationship between events be communicated? What stylistic features will be employed? Taken together, these and other questions associated with the ordering and presentation of events shape a narrative’s plot. Hebrew narrative is marked by its distinctive appreciation for symmetry, expressed most often through myriad forms of repetition. Repetition of vocabulary, grammatical structures, events or images unites diverse events and signals their common import. The repetitive language and structure of Genesis 1, for example, unites the separate acts of *creation into one grand masterpiece that expresses both the orderliness of creation and the majesty of the Creator. In another context, the precise recounting of events at a well, through the mouth of Abraham’s servant, establishes the trustworthiness of the servant and the efficacy of his mission (Gen 24:1-51). On a broader scale, repetitions of the promise to Abraham unite the entire Pentateuch and articulate its primary theme (see Clines 1997, 37-47). The Pentateuch also includes a number of repetitive story lines. Besides the so-called “endangered ancestress” stories discussed above, the narratives devoted to Abraham and Isaac contain parallel accounts of the founding of Beer-sheba (Gen 21:22-34; 26:26-33), implicitly confirming Isaac as the legitimate heir of the promise to Abraham. Three stories of complaining mark Israel’s journey to Sinai (Ex 15:22-26; 16:1-36; 17:1-7) and are matched by three parallel stories of complaining as Israel journeys from Sinai (Num 11:1-3, 4-34; 20:1-13), raising questions about whether the Israelites have taken the *covenant to heart.

Repetition can also occur in figurative and subtle forms (see Alter, 88-113). A Lettwort is a recurring word root that occurs in diverse forms (including puns) throughout a narrative complex. The root kbd, for example, occurs at various points in the exodus story to refer to such things as *Pharaoh’s hardened heart (Ex 7:14; 8:32 [MT 8:28]; 9:7, 34), Moses’ halting speech (Ex 4:10), increased labor (Ex 5:9), severe pestilence (Ex 9:3), the dense swarm of locusts (Ex 10:14), Yahweh’s glory (Ex 14:4) and the clogged chariot wheels of the Egyptians (Ex 14:25). A Leitmotif is a recurring image or object, such as the colors white and red in the Jacob story and the recurrence of *dreams in the Joseph story. Theme describes a recurring pattern of even broader dimensions, as in the reversals of primogeniture in Genesis, Jacob’s transactions and Israel’s persistent complaining in the wilderness. A type-scene is an episode that follows a fixed sequence, as in the betrothal stories of Jacob, Isaac and Moses (Gen 24:1-66; 29:1-30; Ex 2:16-21), all of which are associated with wells. An allusion occurs when a story evokes, in part or whole, connections to another story, as in the texts concerning Hagar (Gen 16:1-16; 21:1-21); these render lexical and thematic allusions both to the garden story and the exodus on one level and to the promise to Abraham on a broader scale.

Variation in repetition often carries significant import, a feature of narrative amply documented by Sternberg (365-440; cf. Gunn and Fewell 1993, 148-55). The variation may occur on the grammatical or syntactical level. When the *serpent confronts Eve, he quotes Yahweh God’s command, but with slight modifications. The original command is framed in positive terms and conveys a sense of the Creator’s generous provision: “You may freely eat from any tree in the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you may not eat, for on the day you eat of it, you will die” (Gen 2:16b- 17). However, the serpent recasts the positive into a negative, implying a demanding Creator

More concerned with keeping the rules, and conveniently omits reference to consequences: “Did God really say, “You may not eat from any tree in the garden?’” (Gen 3:1b). Variations in references to Pharaoh’s hardened heart highlight the inscrutable tension between divine will and human freedom (Ex 4:21; 7:3; 9:12; 10:1, 27; 11:10; 14:8; cf. 8:15, 32 [MT 8:11, 28]; 9:34). Dif ferences in episodic repetitions may achieve similar effects. The three stories of complaining on the journey away from Sinai include outbreaks of divine wrath (a feature absent from the corresponding stories prior to Sinai), inti-mating a change in God’s dealings with the nation. On a similar note, Jacob’s return to Bethel after wrestling with Yahweh at the Jabbok (Gen 35:9-15) omits the conditional, scheming character of Jacob’s response to the divine promise on the first occasion (Gen 28:10-22), suggesting that Jacob has now submitted to Yahweh.

A number of structural devices organize repetitions into symmetries. Structural elements may occur in parallel repetitions, as in the pattern that renders the first creation story (Gen 1:3-31). A chiasm introduces a pattern and then reverses it, as in the tongue twister “she slit the sheet, the sheet she slit.” While some prefer the term palistrophe for structures of more than four components and others distinguish a chiasm from a concentric structure (a structure with a single element at the center), the term is widely used to denote any form that fits the general pattern-reversal structure. While smaller, syntactical structures can be identified with relative certainty, large-scale or thematic chiastic patterns have proven more difficult to determine. The chiastic configuration of the Abraham cycle, for example, has been described by both Rosenberg (who prefers the term palistrophe) and Kikawada and Quinn, but the two patterns manifest significant differences, even disagreeing on the parameters of the Abraham cycle itself. On the other hand, there has been general agreement on the chiastic pattern that configures the flood story (e.g., Anderson; Wenham; but see Emerton 1987, 1988).

An inclusio is a repetition that encloses a section of narrative. One such repetition encloses Yahweh’s disclosure to Abraham concerning the imminent destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Framing the disclosure are references to the departure of the “men” who had visited Abraham (Gen 18:16, 22). In this case, the parallel references build suspense and forge a connection between the two ostensibly disparate events (see Walsh, 57-75). A variation of this device, Wiederaufnahme, or resumptive repetition, consists of the repetition of previous material when the story resumes after a digression (e.g., Gen 37:36; 39:1; Ex 6:10-13, 26-30).

2.3. The Construction of Characters

A narrator constructs characters so as to influence the reader’s perception of them. The characters we encounter in the Pentateuch have thus been shaped to serve the general aims of the narrative. Just as a picture of Moses is not “the real Moses” who existed at some point in time, so the Moses depicted in the Pentateuch is an imaginative representation. This is not to say, of course, that there is no connection between Moses the character and the historical Moses (again, a question for the historian). But narrative critics insist that, when addressing how the Pentateuch works as literature, we must recognize that the two are not equivalent. Within the context of the Pentateuch, even “God” is a character, a representation of the Creator who cannot be fully described or limited by the printed page.

The reader’s perception of a character is shaped by a number of factors: descriptions and commentary provided by the narrator, the names or titles ascribed to the character, the character’s actions and words, and comments made by other characters in the narrative. Hebrew narrative typically provides few descriptive details or evaluative comments. Because they are exceptions to the rule, description and commentary thus assume special significance when they occur. The narrator’s comment that *Noah was a “righteousness man, blameless among his peers” (Gen 6:9) sets him apart from the rest of his generation, who are bad to the bone (Gen 6:5). Inasmuch as it follows a remark that Noah found favor with Yahweh (Gen 6:8), the note makes an important theological point: Yahweh’s decision to spare Noah is not arbitrary but demonstrates the deity’s concern for righteousness. On another note, the narrator introduces Esau as a skilled hunter who loves the outdoors and Jacob as a “quiet” man who prefers to stay at home (Gen 25:27-28), establishing a contrast of personality that will contribute to the conflict between the brothers.

In many instances the character’s name defines his or her essential attribute or signifi. cance within the story. Sometimes the signifi cance of a name is emphasized, as is the case when Yahweh changes Abram’s name to Abraham (“Exalted Father” to “Father of a Multitude”; Gen 17:5) and Jacob’s to Israel (“Trickster” to “Struggles with God”). A new name can also signify a change in status; when Yahweh gives Sarai (“My Prince”) the name Sarah (“Princess”), he establishes her identity independent of any man (the prince) to whom she is connected (Gen 17:15). Generally, though, the significance of names becomes apparent only as a story unfolds, sometimes to be disclosed dramatically (as is the case with Esau’s agonized exclamation about his brother: “Isn’t he rightly named Jacob? For he has taken advantage of me twice!” [Gen 27:36]).

For the most part characters in the Pentateuch are defined as much by their words as by their actions. Direct speech tends to be succinct. A brief declaration is enough to establish the vengeful character of Lamech (Gen 5:23-24), the piety of the Midianite chieftain *Jethro (Ex 18:10-11) or the faithfulness of *Caleb (Num 13:30). Within the context of dialogue, direct speech comprises a primary medium for the development of character. The narrator, for instance, establishes the conniving persona of Jacob through dialogues that illustrate his calculating character, first by contrasting his words with those of the impulsive Esau (Gen 25:29-34) and the unwitting Isaac (Gen 76:18-29) and then through a series of dialogues with the equally crafty Laban (Gen 29:15-27; 30:25-36). Monologues are infrequent, and interaction between more than two characters is rare. Longer speeches are mostly confined to major characters and convey attributes more indirectly.

2.4. The Narrator and Perspective

As noted above, a narrative tells a story from a particular point of view and encodes values, assumptions, ideologies and convictions within it. This point of view is conveyed via the narrator. The narrator can be thought of simply as the one through whom the story is told, as distinguished from the author(s) who produced the text. The “narrator” is thus an abstract entity who renders the story into a whole, suggests connections and invests events and characters with significance. There is general agreement that the biblical narrator is “omniscient” and possesses knowledge often not available to characters within the story. The narrator displays knowledge of God’s disposition and decisions, although this knowledge is communicated infrequently (Gen 6:6; 29:31). In some cases, however, the narrator seems to withhold insight into divine motives, precisely when such information might resolve difficulties in the story. At other points the narrator will build suspense by supplying the reader with information that is unavailable to one or more characters in the story. In still other cases, the narrator may delay reporting crucial information until a time late in the story. All these features are employed in the binding of Isaac (Gen 22:1-19), an episode that puts the play of perspective into the foreground. The narrator begins the story with the declaration that God tested Abraham, followed immediately by a divine command that alludes powerfully to Abraham’s initial call (Gen 22:1-2; cf. Gen 12:1, 6). The reader thus knows that the story that follows constitutes a “test.” But Abraham does not know why the command has been given. Likewise, Isaac knows that he and his father are journeying to Moriah to offer a sacrifice but does not know that he is the intended victim. The narrator exploits the various levels of perspective with a poignant interchange during which Isaac inquires about the intended victim (Gen 22:5-8). The questions heighten suspense by highlighting the gap between what the reader knows and what the characters know. Only when Abraham prepares to plunge the knife into his son do the characters learn the reason for the whole affair. The angel of Yahweh calls to him and now suggests a rationale for the test: “Now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son from me” (Gen 22:12b). The implied explanation (that God requires obedience in order to confirm the promise, Gen 22:15-18) does not easily resolve the interplay of perspectives. What does God know, and when?

Irony, a gap between perceived intent and perceived meaning, can utilize points of view with powerful effect. Dramatic irony takes place when actions yield unintended results. The story of *Joseph, which skillfully appropriates different levels of perspective, contains many instances of dramatic irony, and these become the vehicle for expressing the mysterious involvement of God in human affairs. The sons of Jacob cast Joseph into a pit to rid themselves of him but eventually must confront him as a prince of Egypt. And Jacob, the trickster who has fooled others, becomes himself the object of numerous acts of deceit. Verbal irony works in a similar fashion, often giving a character’s words a meaning opposite of that intended. Again in the Joseph story, Judah does not realize the full implications of what he is saying when he reports Joseph’s words: “You will not see my face unless your brother is with you” (Gen 43:3). By recourse to irony, the narrator can imbue both words and actions with mystery, thereby enhancing the sense of ambiguity that characterizes classical Hebrew narrative.

Study of the Pentateuch as literature thus encompasses an array of methods, approaches and strategies. The questions that literary criticism raises have prodded biblical scholarship to grapple with the fundamental issues of how the Pentateuch is to be interpreted (see Hermeneutics). Although there are those in both camps who insist that the methods of historical and literary analysis cannot be reconciled, interpretation now commonly utilizes both approaches. Because a text encodes experiences, beliefs and conventions that derive from particular settings in time, historical analysis remains a necessary component for understanding the Pentateuch’s message and relevance. Literary analysis, for its part, constantly draws the interpreter back into an encounter with the text and with its distinctive character, tropes and conventions. A symbiosis of the two approaches thus seems desirable but remains very much a work in progress.

See also EXODUS, BOOK OF; GENESIS, BOOK OF; JOSEPH; LITERARY STRUCTURE OF THE PENTATEUCH.

Bibliography. G. Aichele et al. The Postmodern Bible (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1995); R. Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 1981); R. Alter and F. Kermode, eds., The Literary Guide to the Bible (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1987); B. W. Anderson, “From Analysis to Synthesis: The Interpretation of Genesis 1—11,” JBL 97 (1978) 234-39; E. Auerbach, “Odysseus’ Scar,” in Twentieth Century Literary Criticism: A Reader, ed. D. Lodge (repr.; London: Longmans, Green, 1972), 316-32; S. Bar-Efrat, Narrative Art in the Bible (JSOTSup 70; Sheffield: Almond, 1989); R. Barthes, “The Struggle with the Angel: Textual Analysis of Genesis 32:23-33,” in Structural Analysis and Biblical Exegesis, by R. Barthes et al. (Pittsburgh: Pickwick, 1974); J. Barton, Reading the Old Testament (rev. ed.; Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1996); A. Berlin, Poetics and Interpretation of Biblical Narrative (BLS 9; Sheffield: Almond, 1983); T. L. Brodie, Genesis as Dialogue: A Literary, Historical and Theological Commentary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001); D. J. A. Clines, The Ancestor in Danger: But Not the Same Danger,” in What Does Eve Do to Help? And Other Readerly Questions to the Old Testament (JSOTSup 94; Sheffield: JSOT, 1990); idem, The Theme of the Pentateuch (JSOTSup 10; Sheffield: JSOT, 1978; 2d ed., 1997); J. Emerton, “An Examination of Some Attempts to Defend the Unity of the Flood Narrative in Genesis,” VI 37 (1987) 405-420; 38 (1988) 1-21; J. C. Exum, “Who’s Afraid of the ‘Endangered Ancestress?’ ” in The New Literary Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, ed. J.C. Exum and D. J. A. Clines (JSOTSup 143; Sheffield: JSOT, 1993); D. N. Fewell and D. M. Gunn, “Tipping the Balance: Sternberg’s Reader and the Rape of Dinah,” JBL 110 (1991) 193-211; J. P. Fokkelman, Narrative Art in Genesis (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1975); D. M. Gunn and D. N. Fewell, Narrative in the Hebrew Bible (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993); N. Habel, Literary Criticism of the Old Testament (GBSOT; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1971); P. House, Beyond Form Criticism: Essays in Old Testament Literary Criticism (SBTS 2; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1992); W. L. Humphreys, The Character of God in the Book of Genesis (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001); D. Jobling, “Myth and Its Limits in Genesis 2:4b-3:24” and “‘The Jordan a Boundary’: Transjordan in Israel’s Ideological Geography,” in The Sense of Biblical Narrative IT JSOTSup 39; Sheffield: JSOT, 1986); I. M. Kikawada and A. Quinn, Before Abraham Was: The Unity of Genesis 1—II (Nashville: Abingdon, 1985); S. D. Kunin, “The Death of Isaac: Structural Analysis of Genesis 99,” JSOT 64 (1994) 57-81; T. Longman IU, “Literary Approaches to Old Testament Study,” in The Face of Old Testament Studies, ed. D. W. Baker and B. T. Arnold (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1999); T. Mann, The Book of the Torah (Atlanta: John Knox, 1988); I. Pardes, The Biography of Ancient Israel: National Narratives in the Bible (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2000); R. Polzin, ““The Ancestress of Israel in Danger’ in Danger,” Semeia 3 (1975) 81- 98; idem, Moses and the Deuteronomist (New York: Seabury, 1980); D. Robertson, The Old Testament and the Literary Critic (GBSOT; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977); J. Rosenberg, King and Kin: Political Allegory in the Hebrew Bible (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986); L. Ryken and T. Longman III, eds., A Complete Literary Guide to the Bible (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1993); J. Sailhamer, The Pentateuch as Narrative (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1992); O. H. Steck, Old Testament Exegesis: A Guide to the Methodology (SBLRBS 39; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995); M. Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985); J. Walsh, Style and Structure in Biblical Hebrew Narrative (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 2001); G. Wenham, “The Coherence of the Flood Narrative,” VT 28 (1978) 336-48; H. White, Narration and Discourse in the Book of Genesis (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991). L. D. Hawk

Literary Structure of the Pentateuch

Literary structure, or compositional shape, refers to the comprehensive plan in the textual fabric of a written work by means of which it exhibits meaningful cohesion and thoughtful direction reflective of an authored strategy. It encompasses both the organizing framework that defines the literary contours and the embedded patterns that fill out that framework, thereby displaying how the whole and the network of relations among its constituent parts are fashioned into a grand design for a desired effect. An analysis of the literary structure of the Pentateuch then attempts to describe the constructed shape of Genesis—Deuteronomy as a unitary composition by tracing the textured patterns in its larger (super- or macrostructural) and smaller (microstructural) units, by means of which it guides readers effectively to an authored goal.

The interests of literary structure intersect those of authorship and composition, conventional (*source, *form, *tradition) and newer (e.g., narrative) “literary criticism, and individual book analyses. While the exploration of literary structure engages each of these, however, it pursues the discussion along different lines. Specifically, the literary structure of the Pentateuch moves beyond genetic strata to purposeful strategy and beyond atomistic structures to comprehensive structure. It therefore shifts the interpretive focus from questions of origin and formation (i.e., the historical route by which the Pentateuch developed from primal sources to present shape) to the evidence for and effect of the resultant configuration, and from independent genres (e.g., narrative, poetry, genealogy, biography and legal materials) to their participa-

Title Page (PDF page 10)

Dictionary of the Old Testament: Pentateuch

Editors: T. Desmond Alexander and David W. Baker

Publisher: InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, Illinois; Leicester, England.

Copyright and Publication Details (PDF page 11)

InterVarsity Press, USA P.O. Box 1400, Downers Grove, IL 60515-1426, USA World Wide Web: www.ivpress.com Email: email@ivpress.com Inter-Varsity Press, England Norton Street, Nottingham NG7 3HR, England World Wide Web: www.ivpbooks.com Email: ivp@ivpbooks.com ©2003 by InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of InterVarsity Press. InterVarsity Press, U.S.A., is the book-publishing division of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/ USA®, a student movement active on campus at hundreds of universities, colleges and schools of nursing in the United States of America, and a member movement of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students. For information about local and regional activities, write Public Relations Dept., InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA, 6400 Schroeder Rd., P. O. Box 7895, Madison, WI 53707-7895, or visit the IVCF website at <www.intervarsity.org>. Inter-Varsity Press, England, is the book-publishing division of the Universities and Colleges Christian Fellowship (formerly the Inter-Varsity Fellowship), a student movement linking Christian Unions in universities and colleges throughout the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland, and a member movement of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students. For information about local and national activities write to UCCF, 38 De Montfort Street, Leicester LE1 7GP, email them at email@uccf.org.uk, or visit the UCCF website at www.uccf.org.uk. All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. Distributed in the U.K. by permission of Hodder and Stoughton Ltd. All rights reserved. “NIV” is a registered trademark of International Bible Society. UK trademark number 1448790. The maps on pages 278 and 920-21 created by Maps.com, Santa Barbara, California. Cover design: Kathleen Lay Burrows Cover image: Sistine Chapel, Vatican, Rome, Italy/Fratelli Alinari/Superstock USA ISBN 978-0-8308-1781-8 UK ISBN 978-0-85111-986-1 Printed in the United States of America Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Dictionary of the Old Testament: Pentateuch/editors, David Baker, T. Desmond Alexander. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and indexes. ISBN 0-8308-1781-6 (cloth: alk. paper)

1. Bible. O.T. Pentateuch—Dictionaries. I. Baker, David W. (David Weston), 1950- . II. Alexander, T. Desmond. BS1225.52.D53 2002 222’.103—dc21 2002009227 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. P 28 27 26 25 24 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 Y 28 27 26 25 24 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 09 08