Esther: The Outer Narrative and the Hidden Reading 9781575066585

Citation preview

Esther: The Outer Narrative and the Hidden Reading

Siphrut

Literature and Theology of the Hebrew Scriptures Editorial Board

Stephen B. Chapman Tremper Longman III Nathan MacDonald

Duke University Westmont College Universität Göttingen   and University of St. Andrews

1.  A Severe Mercy: Sin and Its Remedy in the Old Testament, by Mark J. Boda 2.  Chosen and Unchosen: Conceptions of Election in the Pentateuch and Jewish-Christian Interpretation, by Joel N. Lohr 3.  Genesis and the Moses Story: Israel’s Dual Origins in the Hebrew Bible, by Konrad Schmid 4.  The Land of Canaan and the Destiny of Israel: Theologies of Territory in the Hebrew Bible, by David Frankel 5.  Jacob and the Divine Trickster: A Theology of Deception and Yhwh’s Fidelity to the Ancestral Promise in the Jacob Cycle, by John E. Anderson 6.  Esther: The Outer Narrative and the Hidden Reading, by Jonathan Grossman 7.  From Fratricide to Forgiveness: The Language and Ethics of Anger in Genesis, by Matthew R. Schlimm

Esther The Outer Narrative and the Hidden Reading

Jonathan Grossman

Winona Lake, Indiana Eisenbrauns 2011

© 2011 by Eisenbrauns Inc. All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America www.eisenbrauns.com

To my parents:

Professor Avraham and Rachel Grossman

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Grossman, Jonathan, 1970– Esther : the outer narrative and the hidden reading / Jonathan Grossman.     p. cm. — (Siphrut : literature and theology of the Hebrew Scriptures ; 6) Includes bibliographical references and indexes. ISBN 978-1-57506-221-1 (hardback : alk. paper) 1.  Bible. O.T. Esther—Criticism, interpretation, etc.  I.  Title. BS1375.52.G76 2011 222′.9066—dc23 2011036668

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of the American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984. †Ê

Contents Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii 1.  Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   1 On the Hidden Reading of Biblical Narratives  1 The Masoretic Version and the Septuagint  12 The Artistic Structure of the Book of Esther  12 Historical Setting  16 Where Should the Narrative Begin?  25 Who Is the Protagonist of Esther?  27

2.  The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti (Esther 1) . .

  38

The Kingdom of Ahasuerus (1:1)  38 Ahasuerus’s Feasts: Generous King or Arrogant King? (1:2–8)  39 “In Addition, Queen Vashti Gave a Banquet for Women” (1:9–12)  45 The King’s Judgment: Responsible or Ridiculous Rule? (1:13–22)  48

3.  Esther Is Taken to the King (Esther 2) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 The Treatment of Women (2:1–20)  57 Presentation of Mordecai and Esther  67 “When the Virgins Were Assembled a Second Time” (2:19–20)  75

4.  The Attempted Rebellion against the King (Esther 2:21–23) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77 5.  “Some Time Afterward”: The Promotion of Haman (Esther 3:1–6) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81 Haman, Son of Hamedatha, the Agagite (3:1)  82 “And Placed His Seat above All the Officers Who Were with Him” (3:1)  83 “Mordecai Would Not Kneel or Bow Low” (3:2)  85 Mordecai as Vashti (and Haman as Ahasuerus)  91

6.  The Casting of the Lot (Esther 3:6–7) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93 7.  Did the King Know of Haman’s Decree? (Esther 3:8–11) . . . . 98 Mordecai Tells Esther (4:7–8)  101 Esther Tells Ahasuerus (7:3–4)  102 The King, Haman, and the “City of Shushan” (3:15)  109

8.  The Secret Turning Point (Esther 4) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111 Without Clothes (4:1)   111 Hathach’s Disappearance (4:1–15)  115

v

vi

Contents

9.  Esther’s Plan (Esther 5:1–8) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124 10.  The Gallows (Esther 5:9–14) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132 11.  Mordecai on Horseback (Esther 6) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141 That Night  141 In the Morning  141 In the Street  144

12.  Haman’s Advisers: Fate versus Divine Providence (Esther 6:12–13) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149 Haman’s Return Home (6:12)  149 Haman at Home with His Advisers (6:13)  152

13.  Esther’s Second Party (Esther 6:14–7:10) . . . . . . . . . . .

156

“Haman’s Face Was Covered” (7:8)  164 “Also Harbonah Is Remembered for Good”  166

14.  Mordecai Appointed over Haman’s House, and Esther before the King Again (Esther 8:1–8) . . . . . . . . 170 Mordecai’s True Reward  170 Haman’s Estate  172 Esther’s Plea to the King  173

15.  Mordecai’s Letters (Esther 8:9–16) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179 16.  “Not One Good Thing Was Lacking” (Esther 8:17–9:4) . . . . 185 Indiscriminate Slaughter?  188 Martin Luther Adopts an Extreme Manner of Speaking  189

17.  Stages of the Festival’s Acceptance (Esther 9:15–32) . . . . .

194

18.  The Greatness of the King and the Greatness of Mordecai (Esther 10) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208 The Joseph Narratives and the Book of Esther  210 “All His Mighty and Powerful Acts Are Recorded” (10:2)  213

19.  Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 218 “Dynamic Analogies” in the Book of Esther  218 Changeover and Reversal  232 From “Literary Carnivalesque” Genre to “Theological Carnivalesque” Genre  233 Attitude toward the Monarchy  240 Attitude toward Women  240 Attitude toward Honor  241 Attitude toward Exile  242 Attitude toward Fate  243 Attitude toward God  243 The Uniqueness of the Book of Esther  244

Indexes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Index of Authors  247 Index of Scripture  251

247

Preface The book of Esther is a wondrous journey for its readers. Despite the plot line, which deals with the annihilation of an entire people, the irony and lighthearted atmosphere of the story create a playful, delightful reading experience. The many feasts scattered throughout the story reflect to a large degree the experience of reading the story: an atmosphere of drunkenness and mischief. This reading experience is mainly influenced by the unique literary style of the book. The author of Esther was a literary genius who succeeded in telling his story by using a diverse, sophisticated variety of literary devices, thus creating an especially pleasurable storytelling experience. However, one must not be taken in by the playful narrative that characterizes Esther. Beneath the surface, the author of the story deals with social, political, and theological questions, often even hinting at a unique view that does not appear anywhere else in the Bible. Thus, although this is true of any good story, the book of Esther in particular must be read many times over in an attempt to extract what is hidden beneath the surface. Much important scholarly work has been devoted to the study of Esther; in the present book, I seek to contribute more to peeling away the layers of language and revealing what is hidden beneath. It is well known that any literary analysis compels the reader to participate in the unfolding examination of the story. Even though researchers may differ in their definitions of the complex relationship between the text and the reader, it is agreed today that one can no longer relate to the text as standing on its own; rather, it is only the reader’s encounter with the story that gives it “meaning.” Nevertheless, there is a difference between a reader who approaches the text in search of something specific and one who comes to the story in acquiescence, ready and willing for the text to launch him or her into new realms. Though it is difficult, bordering on the impossible, my experience in studying the book of Esther has led me to attempt to pursue the words and not to lead them wherever my heart desires. Undoubtedly my preconceived notions as one particular reader constantly influence my analysis of the verses and my claim on the meaning associated with them. However, there is great value to the pretense of being a “listening reader” in exploring the text, even if it not truly feasible. But even the “listening reader” must be an “active reader,” especially in literary analysis, in order to reveal the hidden meaning of the story. Therefore, I must ask the reader’s forgiveness if, on occasion, you feel that what I have suggested is “overreading.” This was nothing more than an enamored author who was swept away by the beloved subject of his research. I would like to thank the Beth Shalom Foundation of Kyoto, Japan, for its support of this research. In addition, I wish to acknowledge the publisher, Jim

vii

viii

Preface

Eisenbraun, and his firm, who ushered this book hand in hand to press and did so very professionally. I especially wish to thank Mrs. Beverly McCoy, the editor of the book, whose sharp eye improved its language and style. In addition, I was greatly assisted by the services of my student, Ms. Emily Litwack, in improving the style of the book. Her love for the story of Esther transformed technical questions into meaningful, analytical discussions. As in any interpretive journey, surprising twists arose in discussions held with my students. I take this opportunity to thank the students to whom I have taught the book of Esther in recent years at Bar-Ilan University and Herzog College for fruitful dialogue and for the exploration of truth that is so often illuminated within the study group. This book is dedicated to my parents, Professor Avraham and Rachel Grossman, whose gracious virtues have always been a light illuminating my path.

Note to the Reader Abbreviations used in this book are the standard abbreviations found in The Society of Biblical Literature Handbook of Style (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1999), esp. §§8.4.1–2.

Chapter 1

Introduction On the Hidden Reading of Biblical Narratives Biblical narratives have been studied critically for centuries, yielding new layers of meaning as each generation uncovers the manifold messages that are not apparent in an initial reading of the texts. Any reader of literature, Scripture included, knows that a literary text can be decoded on different levels and at different depths. 1 A simple reading decodes the narrative as a representation of real occurrences, whereas readings of greater sophistication view the data abstractly, as symbols from another world presented through the medium of the plot. At the same time, the fact that biblical narratives contain hidden messages seems problematic; biblical narratives presumably have didactic and educational purposes. The presence of concealed morals would seemingly obstruct the education of readers. 2 However, concealing a narrative’s message has certain clear advantages. For the purposes of the present discussion, I note two in particular, one that pertains to the process of reading and another that relates to the meaning of the narrative. 3 When a narrative conceals messages, it allows the reader to become a partner in the process of decoding the narrative and exposing its meaning. The reader’s sense of having discovered the narrative’s secrets considerably enhances his identification with the narrative. Its message impresses itself 1.  Some 25 years ago, S. Yizhar proposed a “model for reading literature,” listing four different levels for reading a narrative (To Read a Story [Tel Aviv: Am-Oved 1982] 206–21). 2.  In a different context, Uriel Simon postulated a similar argument in his response to Perry and Sternberg, who had proposed that the story of David and Bathsheba contained certain unsolved lacunae, and that the reader ends up surmising his own answers (for instance, whether Uriah suspected the king). See U. Simon, “An Ironic View of a Biblical Story: On the Interpretation of the Story of David and Bathsheba,” Literature 2 (1970) 606. 3.  In the present context, I ignore the case of philosophical writing where the author seeks, knowingly and deliberately, to conceal the truth from the simple reader, intending it only for initiates. Examples of this type of work include: Maimonides, Guide for the Perplexed (especially his discussion of the reasons for the contradictions between biblical books, as set out in his introduction to the work [seventh reason]); Nachmanides, Commentary on the Pentateuch, where an explanation that is offered ʿal derek hāʾemet is presented in the form of hints so that a reader who is unfamiliar with the secrets of the Qabālāh will not understand (see his introduction to the Commentary).

1

2

Chapter 1

on him or her more firmly than it would if the educational message were spelled out explicitly, since overt moralizing often causes the reader to become defensive. The inclusion of the reader in the process of decoding the narrative makes him or her an “active reader” or even a reader who “creates the text”—concepts that have been addressed at length in contemporary literary criticism. 4 For the purposes of the present discussion, the second advantage—related to the meaning and morals of the narrative itself—is more significant. Occasionally, revelation and concealment are themes of the narrative itself. In these cases, a concealing style reflects and dovetails with the morals of the narrative. Thus, esoteric writing not only is a literary device but can help focus the reader on the narrative’s theme. At the very outset of the discussion of “concealed writing,” a distinction must be drawn between a consciously concealing style and subconsciously encoded meanings. Ever since Freud and the development of psychoanalysis, one school of opinion has contended that every narrative contains levels of meaning hidden even from the consciousness of the author. 5 My discussion only concerns examples of writing in which the author veils his messages and merely hints at them, with no explicit reference. 6 A classic example of this type of writing is the Song of Songs: whether one views this book as a metaphor for the relationship between a believer and God or between the entire nation of Israel and God, one must acknowledge that the book’s intended significance is never stated openly. According to either view, a person who reads the book with no awareness of its hidden level is, 4.  For an extreme formulation of this position, see Umberto Eco, The Role of the Reader: Explorations in the Semiotics of Texts (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1979). Eco is not alone in this position, which is becoming increasingly common in literary criticism. See, for example: M. Riffaterre, Essais de stylistique structurale: Presentation et traductions par Daniel Delas (Paris: Flammarion, 1971); S. Fish, Is There a Text in This Class? The Authority of Interpretive Communities (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1980); and R. Barthes, “The Death of the Author,” in: Image-Music-Text: Essays Selected and Translated by Stephen Heath (New York: Hill and Wang, 1977) 142–48. 5.  See, for example: N. N. Holland et al., “Psychological Criticism,” in The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics (ed. A. Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan; Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993) 997–1002; J. A. Cuddon, A Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory (4th ed.; Oxford: Blackwell, 1998) 332–35; S. Felman (ed.), Literature and Psychoanalysis: The Question of Reading, Otherwise (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1982); P. Barry, Beginning Theory: An Introduction to Literary Cultural Theory (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1995) chap. 5; H. de Berg, Freud’s Theory and Its Use in the Literary and Cultural Studies: An Introduction (New York: Comden, 2003) 87ff.; W. Randolph Tate, “Psychoanalytic Criticism,” in Interpreting the Bible: A Handbook of Terms and Methods (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006) 288ff. 6.  In this context, it is appropriate to mention another differentiation that must be taken into account, between what can be referred to as “compelled reading” and “exposed reading.” A “compelled reading” brings a specific agenda to the text and extrapolates from it a reading of the text that the author did not necessarily intend. In this work, I shall deal exclusively with “exposed readings” of the text.

Introduction

3

in fact, reading a parable with no knowledge of its moral, thereby missing the essence of the text. To be sure, this particular example highlights the danger of concealed writing. It is no coincidence that many modern scholars view the Song of Songs as secular poetry. Indeed, talmudic discussions clearly indicate that claims of this sort have been made from time immemorial. 7 Herein lies the central dilemma facing the author of such a work: on one hand, he seeks to conceal the most profound messages and meanings with which he invests his narrative; on the other hand, he must leave markers, indicating to the reader that he or she should pay attention to the deeper level of the work. The situation is comparable to a children’s game of hide-and-seek: each player seeks to win the game by finding the best hiding place, thereby concealing him or herself from the “seeker.” However, if he or she conceals him/herself too well, s/he may languish in his/her hiding place long after the game is over. To paraphrase Anaxagoras, one might assert about the reading of the story, “What can be seen is a window to what cannot be seen.” For this reason, not every symbolic meaning that may be applied to the language of a text reveals a hidden layer of the narrative. Consider, for example, kabbalistic readings of the Bible. In this framework, a number of words are presumed to allude to various ‫ספירות‬: for example, the word ‫ באר‬hints at the ‫ ספירה‬of ‫ ;מלכות‬the words ‫ שלום‬and ‫ ברית‬indicate the ‫ספירה‬ of ‫יסוד‬, and so on. Can this and other similar modes of exegesis properly be regarded as having drawn concealed intentions and primary meaning from the text? Highly doubtful, given that kabbalistic reading projects a predetermined, externally rendered linguistic system of reading norms and codes onto the text. The actual narrative never gives any indication that its terminology requires decoding. The elusive nature of concealed meaning demands a critical yet sensitive approach from the reader in his or her attempt to answer questions such as: what is the narrative concealing? What does the author really think? What is he or she refraining from saying explicitly? What hints can help the reader fully to unpack the meaning of the narrative? To facilitate this process, we will find it useful to designate the narrative, at the very outset, as one that contains hidden messages; this designation then serves as a point of departure for the process of reading and decoding the narrative. However, a designation of this sort can only be applied from an awareness of the narrative, after the reader senses fundamental meanings beneath 7. For further discussion, see Ephraim E. Urbach, “Rabbinic Exegesis and Origen’s Commentary on the Song of Songs and Jewish-Christian Polemics,” Tarbiz 30 (1960) 148–70; G. D. Cohen, “Shir ha-Shirim be-Aspaklaria ha-Yehudit,” in Torah Nidreshet: Three Interpretative Essays on the Bible (ed. A. Shapiro; Tel Aviv: Am-Oved, 1984) 89–108; R. Kimelman, “Rabbi Yohanan and Origen on the Song of Songs; A Third Century Jewish-Christian Disputation,” HTR 73 (1980) 567–95.

4

Chapter 1

the surface. Thus, any reading that purports to expose the hidden levels of a story is necessarily cyclical: the reader retraces his or her footsteps and decodes the text anew. From this perspective, characters and motifs that arise at the periphery of the narrative may obtain particular significance. This may be a familiar argument for some deconstructionists but for a completely different reason. In concealed narratives, the reader may expect to find clues to the texts’ meaning on the periphery; as a technique of concealment, the author may misdirect the reader’s attention onto the protagonist, while a secondary character exposes the deeper meaning of the narrative. Thus, for example, I shall later argue that the literary structure of the book of Esther creates the impression that the plot climaxes with the events of the king’s sleepless night (chap. 6), whereas, in fact, the narrative’s transitional moment is somewhere else entirely (chap. 4). It should be noted that sometimes concealed meaning results from the author’s attempt to conceal a polemic or reach only a particular audience. Many letters sent from behind the Iron Curtain to relatives in Western countries serve to illustrate this point. Yairah Amit provides the following example: My mother would receive, from time to time . . . letters from family members who had been exiled to Siberia. . . . If the letter repeated a sentence to the effect that despite the cold, bitter winter, they themselves were not cold, the adult listeners around me immediately understood that they were very cold, and they planned ways of sending a parcel to Siberia in far-away Russia. . . . When I would ask how they knew this, they replied that it was because the letter repeated over and over the issue of the cold, or because the writer had emphasized especially that they were not cold. 8

In truth, “concealed readings” accompany us throughout our lives, in communications more elementary than the world of literature. We are all familiar with the experience of meeting an acquaintance and uttering, or hearing, the (polite) sentiment: “It’s been ages! I’m so happy to see you!” Sometimes, the subtext accompanying this statement is, “Oh, no! I’m in such a hurry. I hope this won’t take long. . . .” This subtext accompanies all human interactions and, in this sense, literature is a faithful reflection of reality. All biblical narratives conceal messages beneath the surface, but Esther seems to epitomize this phenomenon. Its uniqueness finds expression not only in the quantity but also in the nature of the concealed messages, especially the way its concealed meanings contradict its revealed themes: the lighthearted whimsy of the revealed narrative opposing the sadness that lurks beneath the surface. As we shall see, Esther’s unique method of 8. Y. Amit, Hidden Polemics in Biblical Narrative (Tel Aviv: Yedioth Aharonoth, 2003) 11 [Heb.].

Introduction

5

concealment deviates from the normal esthetic structure of a sophisticated narrative (the first advantage noted above) and relates to the theme of the narrative (the second advantage mentioned above). In what follows, I intend to give special attention to concealed writing in the book of Esther and to the particular value system that it generates. There are numerous mechanisms of concealment in biblical literature; however, we will focus on the primary mechanisms on the list. Not surprisingly, each of them finds expression in Esther. Biblical Connotation and Free Association Allusions are sometimes based on biblical expressions taken from a different narrative, while in other instances they stem from common idioms that the author assumes to be familiar to his readers. When Joab came to encourage his brother Abishai before going out to battle with Ammon and Aram, he said to him, “If the Arameans prove too strong for me, you come to my aid (‫ ;)והיתה לי לישועה‬and if the Ammonites prove too strong for you, I will come to your aid” (2 Sam 10:11). 9 The phrase “to come to one’s aid” (literally, ‘to be a deliverance’) appears in the entire Bible only five other times. 10 In each of these cases, the subject of the verse (he who is the “deliverance”) is God, as opposed to this verse, in which Joab utters it to Abishai. This phrase first appears in the Song of the Sea in Exodus 15, “The Lord is my strength and might; He is become my deliverance (‫”)ויהי לי לישועה‬ (Exod 15:2), 11 and, it seems, from there develops into a standard term of praise in prayer, as in the book of Isaiah: “For Yah the Lord is my strength and might, and He has been my deliverance” (Isa 12:2), and in Psalm 118 (whose link to Isaiah is clear): “The Lord is my strength and might; He has become my deliverance” (Ps 118:14); “I praise You, for You have answered me, and have become my deliverance” (118:21).” 12 In all of these instances, 9. Unless otherwise indicated, all biblical translations follow the jps 1985 English version, with the exception that here I refer to hanging and gallows rather than impaling and stake regarding Haman’s demise. Translations of the Talmud and rabbinic works are my own. 10.  Exod 15:2; Isa 12:2; Ps 118:14, 21; Job 13:16. Similarly, in Isa 63:8: “And he will be a deliverance to them.” 11.  For a summary of the main opinions on the hymn and its time period, see J. I. Durham, Exodus (WBC; Waco, TX: Word, 1987) 203. There are scholars who claim that this verse is a later insertion into the original hymn due to the fact that they felt it broke the natural flow of the writing style (D. N. Freedman, “Divine Name and Titles in Early Hebrew Poetry,” Pottery, Poetry and Prophecy: Studies in Early Hebrew Poetry [Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1980] 80–81). If this is so, the claim that this phrase is a common form of prayer is strengthened; the phrase was likely inserted due to the sensation that the expression was in fact fitting in this context. Given this, there is doubt whether this is an intentional later insertion. 12.  W. H. C. Propp, Exodus 1–18 (AB 2; New York: Doubleday, 1999) 511, and others. Gillingham claimed that the literary context of the Song of the Sea removes it from the

6

Chapter 1

the phrase “to be a salvation” is incorporated in hymnal praise of God. Given this evidence, it is reasonable to perceive this phrase as a linguistic pattern in songs of praise (hymns) and thanksgiving, naturally slipping off the tip of the implied reader’s tongue. 13 This claim is difficult to prove; however, given the exclusive appearance of the phrase in hymnal praise of God, its basis seems reasonable. If this is so, it is possible that the narrator of the story of David’s battle with Ammon and Aram placed these laudatory words on Joab’s lips as a reminder of his prayer (or at least a reminder of prayer as it appears in the Bible in general). This connotation contributes to the development of Joab’s character and even hints that one may see the results of the battle as a direct consequence of the will of God.  14 Similarly, the author may employ common idioms in order to hint at a concealed meaning. Caution must be exercised in applying this claim, because of the difficulty in ascertaining whether a certain expression was common at the time of composition. Thus, for example, a modern reader might argue that the story of the exodus from Egypt conveys covert criticism of the way the Israelites “borrowed” Egyptian vessels, since the text summarizes the event with the word ‫( ַו ְינ ְַּצלּו‬Exod 12:36), an expression that, in Modern Hebrew, connotes exploitation. However, this would be an erroneous reading and a distortion of the narrative; the verb ‫ נצל‬in Biblical Hebrew (in the intensive case) has nothing to do with extortion or unfairness toward others; its meaning in the verse means ‘to empty’ or ‘to despoil’. 15 Using Multivalent Expressions Concealed meanings, hidden beneath the plain reading, can be communicated through use of ambiguity in which one reading points to the surface events while the other reading hints at what lies beneath the surface. For example, the victories and successes of King Saul are described using the unusual verb ‫( ירשיע‬the causative case of the root ‫רשע‬, meaning ‘to sin’): “After Saul had secured his kingship over Israel, he waged war on every side against all his enemies: against the Moabites, Ammonites, Edomites, hymnal experience that characterizes Psalms, despite the Song’s similar style. S. E. Gillingham, The Poems and Psalms of the Hebrew Bible (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994) 143–45. This is important to our discussion, because we are dealing with a much more refined example of the integration of a hymnal piece within a story. 13.  Cross leans in this direction, in his claim that there is no link between the phrase as it appears in Exodus, Isaiah, and Psalms; rather, it stands on its own “individual status.” F. M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic: Essays in the History of the Religion of Israel (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1973) 127 n. 49. It must be emphasized that, even if there is no historical link between the various appearances of the phrase, its repeated appearance indicates that the authors saw it as a consistent hymnal pattern. 14. J. Grossman, “Deliberate Misuse of Idioms in the Biblical Narrative,” Tarbiz 77 (2007) 43–44 [Heb.]. 15. BDB, 665. Indeed, various modern translations have rendered the verse accordingly. For example: “Thus they plundered the Egyptians” (nasb, 1995).

Introduction

7

the Philistines, and the kings of Zobah; and wherever he turned, ‫ירשיע‬. He was triumphant, defeating the Amalekites and saving Israel from those who plundered it” (1 Sam 14:47–48). 16 The plain reading praises Saul for his success in his battles against “all his enemies”; the verb ‫ירשיע‬, however, is ambiguous. On one hand, the context indicates that its meaning is ‘was successful’, ‘exercised judgment’, and so on. On the other hand, the more common use of the root word ‫ ירשיע‬indicates ‘to do evil’. Using this sense of the root here inclines the reader to think of Saul’s sins, especially given its appearance in proximity to the mention of Saul’s battle against Amalek (“and smote the Amalekites”)—the battle in which he lost his kingdom for his sin. 17 Irony Irony is another device implanted in biblical narratives as a clue to the existence of a truth hidden beneath the surface. When the reader knows something that a character does not know, the reader’s attention must focus on the completeness and incompleteness of each character’s knowledge and, ultimately, on the completeness of the reader’s own knowledge. 18 The greater the number of situations that create a sense of irony, the more the reader asks himself: Who knows what? Who is acting out of awareness of the situation, and who is in the dark? In this context, the experience of reading becomes a continual journey of discovery. It must be noted that the author may choose to assume ignorance and not hint at a truth that lies concealed behind the words; nevertheless, the reader will often understand 16.  The Septuagint renders the word ‫‘( יוושע‬was delivered’), but as Abramsky notes: There is room to suppose that the expression ‘was delivered,’ in the Septuagint, is more likely an interpretation or adaptation, with the unusual introduction of a passive verb to describe warfare, in an attempt at reaching a clear early formulation, in keeping with the parallel record in 2 Sam 8. This is especially likely since, at the time of the creation of the Septuagint, it was undesirable to leave such an ambiguous expression as ‫ ירשיע‬which might be interpreted as being directed against Saul amongst the messages of the stories in the Book of Samuel. (S. Abramsky, The Kingdom of Saul and the Kingdom of David [Jerusalem: Shikmona and Ben Gurion University Press, 1977] 46 [Heb.]) See also Abramsky’s article “U-vekol Asher Yifneh Yarshi’a,” in Studies in the Bible and the Hebrew Language Offered to Meir Wallenstein (ed. C. Rabin et al.; Jerusalem: Israel Society for Biblical Research, 1979) 48–65. 17.  See further my Ambiguity in the Biblical Narrative and Its Contribution to the Literary Formation (Ph.D. Diss., Bar-Ilan University, 2006) 152–54 [Heb.]. 18.  Booth identified four stages that occur when a reader encounters irony: (1) the reader rejects the literal meaning; (2) the reader attempts to find an alternative explanation; (3) the reader makes a decision about the author’s knowledge or beliefs; (4) the reader achieves a new understanding of the text (W. C. Booth, A Rhetoric of Irony [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1974] 10–12). The new understanding that Booth identifies (stage  4) represents penetration to its literary depth, which stands in opposition to the surface meaning of the passage (stage 1).

8

Chapter 1

the hidden message. 19 For example, Ruth’s arrival in the fields of Boaz is described, “as luck would have it, it was the piece of land belonging to Boaz” (Ruth 2:3). Despite the emphasis on the “coincidence,” the sensitive reader understands that the narrator is drawing attention to the divine providence hidden in the story: This mode of reading is similar to a “providential” reading of Ruth—so that Ruth’s “chancing to chance” upon the field of Boaz [sic] is viewed not, indeed, as “chance” but as the doing of God. 20

S. Y. Agnon, a Nobel laureate for literature, made extensive use of this device. For example, in his story “And the Crooked Shall Be Made Straight,” 21 there appears to be resolution and reconciliation (the “crooked” becomes “straight,” an allusion to Isa 40:4). In reality, however, not only does this apparent reconciliation not bring any resolution, but, on the contrary, the end of the narrative hints at a much greater problem than the private complication faced by the protagonist throughout the plot (even if the greater problem is “concealed” from most of the characters, and only the reader shares the awareness of its existence). The Bible offers a wealth of ironic situations, and the book of Esther is prominent in this regard, as we shall see. Order of the Presentation of Facts in the Narrative Every linguistic expression acquires its full meaning in light of its context. This is true not only when a reader decodes the lexical meaning of an expression but also when he attributes literary meaning to a linguistic statement. Many messages are concealed beneath the surface by virtue of the order in which the data are revealed to the reader; 22 indeed, it is difficult to exaggerate the importance of this chronology. Thus, for example, in the story of Absalom’s rebellion, David’s encounter with Hushai is recounted to the reader immediately after his prayer, “[H]e prayed, ‘Please, O Lord, frustrate Ahithophel’s counsel!’” (2 Sam 15:31). This sequence hints that Hushai should be regarded as the answer to David’s prayer—that is, that he is destined to turn Ahithophel’s counsel into foolishness. 23 19.  Compare W. C. Booth, The Rhetoric of Fiction (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961) 271–309 (“The author and the reader are secretly in collusion, behind the speaker’s back, agreeing upon the standard by which he is found wanting,” p. 304). 20.  D. M. Gunn and D. N. Fewell, Narrative in the Hebrew Bible (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993) 81. 21.  S. Y. Agnon, Of Such and of Such ( Jerusalem: Shoken, 1978) 57–127. 22.  See M. Perry, “Literary Dynamics: How the Order of a Text Creates Its Meaning,” Literature 28 (1979) 6–46; Meir Sternberg, “The Truth vs. All the Truth: The Rendering of Inner Life in Biblical Narrative,” Literature 29 (1979) 126–29; idem, “Time and Space in Biblical (Hi)story Telling: The Grand Chronology,” in The Book and the Text: The Bible and Literary Theory (ed. R. M. Schwartz; Oxford: Blackwell, 1990) 81–145. 23.  J. P. Fokkelman, Narrative Art and Poetry in the Books of Samuel (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1981) 1.191; J. Grossman, “The Design of the ‘Dual Causality’ Principle in the Narrative of Absalom’s Rebellion,” Bib 88 (2007) 558–66 [Heb.].

Introduction

9

Revealed Statement: Expressing Concealment To highlight the element of concealment in a narrative (as a central element) the author may give this element a role in the development of the plot. In other words, if in a certain story there is someone (or something) that is hiding behind a mask, perhaps a character that withholds the truth and operates in secrecy, then the issue of concealment rises in the reader’s consciousness, and he pursues it throughout the narrative. The reader gains a clue as to the existence of concealed elements; not everything is exposed. He seeks the messages that have been hidden from him, with a view to discovering them. 24 Thus, for example, the motif of hidden identity is so central to the narrative of Joseph and his brothers that it encourages the reader to pay attention to additional concealed levels operating within the narrative, primarily to the divine guiding of reality that Joseph himself acknowledges at the end of the narrative (Gen 45:5–8). In other words, Joseph’s hidden identity points to God’s hidden identity. As we shall see in the following discussion, all of the above devices appear in the book of Esther; concealed writing should be regarded as one of the principal characteristics of this book. What is the primary method of concealment in the book of Esther? Any of the devices listed above might be offered as possible answers, but, to my mind, Esther’s irony stands out from the rest. On one hand, this form of writing has undoubtedly made the story of Esther particularly beloved; not surprisingly, many literary studies have emphasized Esther’s irony. 25 The text brings a smile to the faces of many readers who have come to share its disdain for the kingdom of Ahasuerus and for his advisers, for the characters who are protagonists in their own eyes but antagonists in the eyes of everyone else, for the plot that develops out of a combination of situations that appear coincidental at first glance, and for the way in which these circumstances are manipulated in various ways by the different characters. On the other hand, we cannot reject outright the argument that the messages of this book were “forced” into concealment by some form of censorship, depending on when the book was written and who wrote it. If, based on some views, it was written in Persia and approved by the appropriate powers, contempt for the king and for Persian culture would have had to be concealed from the censors’ prying eyes. However, I believe that, even if the above two opinions are correct, they miss the literary quality that emerges when a book of this sort is written 24.  See in this regard Y. Zakovitch, Man Sees with His Eyes, but God Sees into the Heart: On Disguise and Its Results in Biblical Narratives ( Jerusalem: Akademon, 1998). 25.  See, for example: F. B. Huey, “Irony as the Key to Understanding the Book of Esther,” SwJT 32 (1989) 36–91; Yehuda T. Radday, “Esther With Humour,” in On Humour and the Comic in the Hebrew Bible (ed. Y. T. Radday and A. Brenner; JSOTSup 92; Sheffield: Almond, 1990) 295–313; M. D. Simon, “‘Many Thoughts in the Heart of Man’: Irony and Theology in the Book of Esther,” Tradition 31 (1997) 5–27.

10

Chapter 1

in this style. The tension between the revealed reality and the concealed causes that bring it about is one of the fundamental questions that the narrative seeks to clarify. Are things really as they seem to be at first glance? Are honor and glory really in the hands of the king, so that he decides who will be honored and who will be scorned? Is the obliteration of the Jews dependent on the whim of a mortal ruler or viceroy? Is a license to kill dependent only on the king’s free will? The surface reading does indeed indicate that the narrative is built and continues to develop on these foundations. However, a reader attuned to the messages beneath the surface discovers a different world, a world in which the order of reality is determined based on altogether different parameters. The presence of concealed meanings (which we may assert of every narrative qua narrative) does not adequately characterize the book of Esther; rather, its uniqueness lies in the fact that these concealed messages actually assert the opposite of what the revealed plane expresses. This brings me to one of the most fundamental controversies concerning the nature of the book of Esther: some scholars have argued that this text should be regarded as a satire meant to entertain the reader, intended solely for his or her pleasure. 26 According to this view, there is no educational, moral, or spiritual message behind the story; its purpose is merely “to be funny, to provoke laughter.” 27 Others have maintained that the story is a secular story—that is, a narrative in which God plays no role. Thus, for example, according to Cornill, the book of Esther reflects “purely secular history,” the theme of which is “the satisfaction of earthly desires and inclinations.” 28 B. W. Anderson articulates an extreme formulation concerning the book of Esther: A witness to the fact that Israel, in pride, either made nationalism a religion in complete indifference to God or presumptuously identified God’s historical purpose with the preservation and glorification of the Jewish people. 29

Even though most critics reject the latter approach, and even though it contains a fundamental, anachronistic flaw, 30 the very existence of this 26. This idea was proposed by H. L. Ginsberg in his introduction to Megillat Esther (“Introductions,” in The Five Megilloth and Jonah [Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1969] 82–88). See also below, in the summation (chap. 18). 27. A. Berlin, Esther (jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001) xvii. 28.  C. H. Cornill, Einleitung in das Alte Testament (Freiburg: Mohr, 1892) 153. 29.  B. W. Anderson, “The Place of the Book of Esther in the Christian Bible,” JR 30 (1950) 32–43. 30.  In modern times, “secular nationalism” does indeed exist as a phenomenon, but this was not so in the ancient world, at the time when the book was written (Michael V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther [2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001] 236).

Introduction

11

claim highlights Esther’s uniqueness; it serves as proof of the perspicacity of the author and his success in concealing its message. After all, even serious readers have fallen into the trap that the author laid for them, failing to notice what was happening beneath the surface of the story. Indeed, there can be no doubt that this book represents a radical deviation from the accepted biblical style: it contains no (explicit) mention of Yehud, the Temple plays no (overt) role in it, there are no explicit teachings about reward and punishment, and—most crucially—it does not mention God’s Name. This writing is so unusual that there can be no discussion of the significance of the story without addressing its style. Nevertheless, the question becomes its own answer: is it possible that, quite coincidentally, the Name of God appears nowhere throughout the entire narrative? This phenomenon is so startling that it constitutes proof positive of deliberate concealment. 31 As Meinhold accurately defines it, Esther is “a religious book in nonreligious language.” 32 Scholars who maintain that the book contains satirical elements are certainly correct, but we must not confuse the form of writing with its purpose. To put it differently, precisely because the author of the book seeks to conceal his messages, he employs the satire, often peppered with irony and cynicism, in order to present, on one hand, a reality that operates coherently while, on the other hand, showing disdain for this same reality and hinting that the truth lurks beneath it. This is the power of satire, and several images in the book of Esther actualize this power. 33 One final comment pertains to sources used in the following discussions: rabbinic exegeses of the book of Esther, especially those found in the first chapter of b. Megillah, contain highly valuable material. Using their exegetical language, the rabbis often noted messages hidden in the story that also relate to its literary structure. Since posterity has recorded their teachings as homiletic interpretation, their value for the analysis of the plain text is generally ignored. However, as I hope to demonstrate, they frequently grounded their interpretations in the text and its themes. In conclusion, I wish to acknowledge openly the weakness of any argument for a hidden literary reading. Toward the end of a comprehensive article devoted to irony in the book of Esther, Goldman writes: Can we be sure that irony is intended in the author’s description of the massacre? No. Literary study is not a murder trial; we cannot expect proof

31. In Fox’s words: “In fact, avoidance of mention of God seems to be a deliberate part of the author’s plan; he comes close, then carefully avoids mentioning God” (M. V. Fox, “The Structure of the Book of Esther,” in Isaac Leo Seeligmann Volume: Essays on the Bible and the Ancient World [ed. A. Rofé and Y. Zakovitch; Jerusalem: Rubinstein, 1983] 3.298). 32. A. Meinhold, Das Buch Esther (ZBK; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1983) 99–101. 33.  Compare with: Fox, Character, 244–47 (“The Message of Silence”). See also below, chap. 18.

12

Chapter 1 beyond a reasonable doubt, only a reasonable premise and sufficient textual evidence. 34

This reservation is extremely important for any literary reading that sometimes appears to project conventions onto the biblical narrative that are not necessarily present. However, it is doubly true when the reader argues for the presence of systematic hidden writing throughout the story. By definition, hidden writing is hidden, and it is necessarily very difficult to prove unequivocally that this hidden level exists. All that we can do is speak of what seems “likely” or “reasonable” and pay close attention to the narrator’s hints, referring the reader to this hidden level. Of course, not every reading one comes upon over the course of the book is a hidden reading. The purpose of this treatise is to present a literary reading of the book of Esther that at times accentuates the concealed message of the story. As we will see, however, oftentimes the literary analysis will lead us to the conclusion that the disparity between the revealed plane of the story and its concealed plane is greater than we are accustomed to in the biblical narrative.

The Masoretic Version and the Septuagint As we know, there are great discrepancies between the Masoretic Text and the various Septuagint versions of Esther. The text that forms the basis of this book is the Masoretic version of Esther, though at times I may use the Septuagint to emphasize a certain point. In general, one could state that sections of the concealed reading of the Masoretic become revealed in the Septuagint, particularly in respect to the theological plane of the story. For instance, while in the Masoretic the narrator is content with the statement “That night, sleep deserted the king” (6:1), the Septuagint adds, “But the Lord removed sleep from the king that night” (see also LXX 4:8; addendum to Esther 4; beginning of Esther 5). This disparity is underscored even more in the Aramaic translations of Esther which also, apparently, sensed the absence of the Divine in the story and bridged the gaps in the body of the translation itself, as well as in midrash-based additions that they integrated into the text.

The Artistic Structure of the Book of Esther The importance of artistic structure in large literary units is moderated only by the highly problematic task of identifying this structure. To discuss the structure of an entire book, one must first define its secondary units— no simple task, especially in light of the interconnectedness of juxtaposed units. For instance, should the story of Mordecai’s foiling the attempted

34. S. Goldman, “Narrative and Ethical Ironies in Esther,” JSOT 47 (1990) 25.

Introduction

13

assassination of the king (2:22–23) 35 be viewed as the conclusion to the previous scene (the choice of Esther as queen), as maintained, for example, by Fox, 36 or should we regard it as an independent unit, as Moore would have it? 37 Thus, the general question of literary units is very important when we explore the possibility of a narrative’s unified artistic structure. 38 Clearly, any proposal for a complete literary structure rests on earlier exegetical assumptions, based on some preconception of the plot and the connections between the smaller units. 39 Despite this reservation, the following represents the artistic structure that I believe emerges from the narrative’s design. 40 A survey of the principal scenes composing the plot suggests a concentric structure to the narrative: two halves that parallel one another in inverse form, divided by a central axis that carries the reader over from the first half to the second (see the chiastic diagram on p. 14). 41 This structure emphasizes one of the most fundamental and obvious insights into the book of Esther: this is a narrative of “reversal.” In fact, this idea is mentioned explicitly toward the end of the story: “the opposite happened, and the Jews got their enemies in their power” (9:1), and it becomes clear that the entire structure of the narrative emphasizes this idea of reversal of fortune. However, the reversal is not limited to Jewish control over 35.  In this book, if no biblical book is provided before a chapter and verse reference, the book referred to is the book of Esther. 36.  Fox, Character, 40–41. 37.  C. A. Moore, Esther (AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971) 29–32. Actually, the question is even more complex, since there is room to debate whether the verses preceding the foiling of the assassination (the description of the additional gathering of the virgins) concludes the choice of Esther as queen (Fox), or whether they introduce the story of the plot against the king (Moore, Esther ; L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther [ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908]). 38.  Moreover, in order to trace the contours of an entire literary structure, we must proceed from the assumption that the narrative in question is indeed organically whole and that it has not undergone corruption or absorbed additions. 39.  See also D. A. Dorsey, The Literary Structure of the Old Testament: A Commentary on Genesis–Malachi (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1999) 21–25. 40. In Fox’s discussion of the feasts as a central motif in Esther, he proposes that the feasts themselves are arranged in chiastic form: six feasts in each half, with the two innermost being the private parties organized by Esther (Fox, Character, 157). His view accords well with the overall structure of the narrative as proposed above. At the same time, Fox’s suggested structure for the book as a whole is different (Character, 159–62; Fox, “The Structure,” 291–303). 41. The structure I propose is similar to the structure presented by J. D. Levenson (Esther [OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997] 7–9). See also the literary structure proposed by Radday, Berg, and Dorsey, who likewise argue for a concentric structure but with different details: Y. T. Radday, “Chiasm in Joshua, Judges, and Other,” LB 27–28 (1973) 9–10; S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure (SBLDS 44; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979) 106–13; Dorsey, Literary Structure, 162–64. For an alternative proposed structure, see N. Ararat, “On the ‘Secularity’ and ‘Contrariness’ of the Book of Esther,” Tarbiz 49 (1980) 223–36.

14

Chapter 1

A. Introduction—extent of Ahasuerus’s kingdom (1:1)   B. Two banquets held by the king: one for the princes of all the provinces   (180 days) and the other a special party for the inhabitants of Shushan   (7 days) (chap. 1)    C. Esther is taken to the king but conceals her identity (chap. 2)     D. Description of Haman’s stature: “King Ahasuerus promotes (‫)ּגּדַ ל‬ ִ    Haman, son of Hamedatha, the Agagite, and advances him (‫) ַו ְינ ְַּׂשאֵהּו‬   (3:1–2)      E. Casting of the lot: war on the 13th of Adar (3:3–7)       F. Giving the ring to Haman; Haman’s letters; Mordecai rending his     clothes; the fast of the Jews and Esther (3:8–4:17)        G. Esther’s first feast; Haman is in good spirits (5:1–8)         H. Haman’s consultation with his associates and their optimism     (5:9–14)          I. THE KING CANNOT SLEEP; EPISODE OF THE HORSE (chap. 6)         H′. Haman’s consultation with his associates and their pessimism     (6:12–14)        G′. Esther’s second feast; Haman is hanged (chap. 7)       F′. Giving the ring to Mordecai; Mordecai’s letters; dressing of Mordecai     in royal garments; feast for the Jews (chap. 8)      E′. War on the 13th of Adar (9:1–2)     D′. Description of the stature of the Jews and of Mordecai and their     victory over their enemies: “All the princes of the provinces . . .     were favoring (‫)מנ ְַשּׂ ִאים‬ ְ the Jews . . . for the man Mordecai was     becoming increasingly powerful” (‫ ;ּגָדֹול‬9:3–11)    C′. Esther comes before the king to request an additional day of battle in    Shushan, and the “Gentiles [professed to be] . . . Jews” a (9:12–17)   B′. Two feasts for the Jews: one for the Jews of all the provinces (14th of   Adar), and the other, a special feast for the Jews of Shushan (15th of   Adar; 9:17–32) A′. Conclusion—extent of Ahasuerus’s kingdom (chap. 10)

their enemies. Fox claims, correctly, that this idea should be regarded as an overarching principle that envelops the entire work. 42 The reversal of the situation serves as more than a mere literary-esthetic motif; it conceals a polemic against pagan Persian beliefs, as I shall demonstrate further on. 43 42.  Fox, Structure, 292 (“this theme [the ‘reversal’] is not only stated in certain verses, it is actually built into the book’s architecture, in the thesis-antithesis series”). 43.  See especially p. 93–97.

Introduction

15

Aside from the sense of a general reversal that arises from the concentric structure of the narrative, there are also some hidden readings that become apparent when viewed in the context of the narrative structure. I shall describe these more extensively later on, but in the meantime, I wish to focus on a number of principles that emerge from the structure. First, we must note that the literary structure reflects the point of view of Haman and his cronies. Until chap. 6, Haman and his counsel remained sure of their continuing advancement and success. Beginning with chap. 6, it becomes clear to Haman that he and those around him are in fact spiraling downward. The reader, however, predicts Haman’s demise even before this, at the first of Esther’s banquets. The author chooses to present the story from the point of view of Haman, even after he has already revealed Esther’s plan to the reader! The central axis—the scene in which Mordecai is led upon the royal horse—will be addressed below, at length. At this point, and in the context of the main discussion, I shall focus on the exact moment when the great reversal supposedly occurs: “That night, sleep deserted the king” (6:1). The fact that the revolution takes place at night has symbolic importance for the design of the narrative. The timing hints at the existence of hidden undertones. During the day, reality is clear and explainable, as it were, in terms of rational, logical cause and effect. The literary symbolism of night hints at what hides beneath the surface and suddenly bursts forth into the narrative. Thus, for example, Jacob wages battle with the angel during the night (Gen 32:24), and God smites the Egyptian firstborns, causing Pharaoh to expel the Israelites from his country “at midnight” (Exod 12:29–31; see also Ruth 3:8). In each of these texts, the plot itself does not mandate that the event take place at night. Rather, the timing brings the characters described in the narrative (along with the reader) to a state of uncertainty, a lack of confidence in the stable, concrete world, and a state in which hidden truth might appear unexpectedly in the revealed story. The night—a time of secrecy—is well suited to the central axis of our narrative, which argues for a hidden truth that is not revealed to all. In addition to discussing the central axis, I also consider it worthwhile to comment at this point on the literary template of the narrative. The bracketed narratives deal with King Ahasuerus and his grandeur (A–A′), thereby seeming to hint at a discrepancy between the revealed and concealed levels of the narrative. According to the plain reading of the narrative, highlighted by its chiastic structure, the book of Esther seeks to tell the story of Ahasuerus, with Ahasuerus as its protagonist. As we shall discover, the author of the story mocks this protagonist in various ways and, while the inclusio tells its story loudly and clearly, asking the reader to keep his eye on the king (after all, the story begins and also ends with a description

16

Chapter 1

of his kingdom), the subtle literary truth that whispers from beneath the surface is entirely different—or, more accurately, the exact opposite. 44 The parallel between the next two chiastic “arms” likewise carries a hidden reading. The narrative begins (B) and ends (B′) with a pair of feasts; Ahasuerus hosts the first pair, while the Jews hold the second pair. Does the author seek, through this device, to compare the feasts? Is he hinting that, in fact, the Jews of the book of Esther are not very far removed from the Persians surrounding them? Indeed, this is the conclusion that we may draw from a plain reading of the description of Jewish culture in the plot. An outside observer of the king’s feasts and the feasts of the Jews would not see any difference. In other words, there is indeed a connection between B and B′. As Goitein puts it: “We are far from the contrast between the ‘inebriated Gentile’ and the Torah-studying Jew.” 45 At the same time, we should not become carried away when comparing the feasts; even though both parties involve wine-drinking, the author drops various hints—which I shall discuss below—regarding the differences concealed beneath the surface: not only beneath the literary surface but beneath the surface of the essence of Jewish existence in exile. The concentric structure, in short, serves a dual purpose. First, it highlights the reversal of the events: Haman’s plan to exterminate the Jews versus the Jews’ ultimately controlling their enemies. Fortune—the “lot”— is not as reliable or authoritative as Haman believes it to be. Second, the chiasm hints at the abyss separating the plain reading, according to which there are indeed connections between parallel elements, and the hidden reading, which mocks this comparison and argues that the reversal in the plot is also related to internal processes that the Jews undergo during the course of the narrative. In fact, the comparisons are an illusion; there is no room for comparison at all. 46

Historical Setting Locating the historical setting of a biblical narrative is not necessarily critical to its comprehension. For example, Job is not anchored in any specific historical moment, and the narrative and its moral lesson remain intelligible without knowledge of its historical setting, which neither adds to 44.  Contra C. R. Dickson and P. J. Botha, “The Role and Portrayal of the King in Esther,” Old Testament Essays 13 (2000) 156–73. 45.  S. D. Goitein, Studies in the Bible (Tel Aviv: Yavne, 1957) 60 [Heb.]. 46. Tractate Soperim (chap. 14) testifies to the interesting custom of reading the book of Esther on the Sabbaths during the month of Adar, with a break in the reading at the beginning of chap. 6: “How is it read? On the first Sabbath of [the month of] Adar the people read together up to ‘That night . . . ,’ and on the night when the second Sabbath [of the month] ends they read from ‘That night . . .’ to ‘interceded for the welfare of all his kindred.’”

Introduction

17

nor detracts from Job’s suffering. Similarly, it has no effect on the fundamental positions articulated by any of his companions or on God’s reaction to these events. At first glance, one could imagine that the book of Esther falls into the same category. Though it is undoubtedly an “Exile narrative” and clearly occurs during the period of the Persian Empire, any attempt to locate it more precisely on a historical continuum seems unnecessary. What does it matter whether these events take place immediately upon the ascent of Persia as the ruling empire or sometime later, during the empire’s decline? The wickedness of Haman remains the same either way; the wisdom and selflessness of Esther are unchanged; the plot will bring a smile to the face of its readers, regardless. Indeed, some scholars maintain that Esther is not meant to reflect any historical event that happened at a specific time; rather, it is a fictional story. 47 Scholars who regard the book of Esther as a work of historical fiction propose a milder formulation—that is, the main plot contains a kernel of genuine historical truth. Indeed, during Ahasuerus’s time, a decree was passed to annihilate the Jews, and this decree was rescinded in the wake of Esther’s intervention; however, according to this view, the author elaborated on this historical core and added details at his own discretion. 48 Supporting evidence for this approach can be found in the short reference that the book of Ezra gives to Ahasuerus’s decree (Ezra 4:6). For the purposes of this discussion, the question is not whether the events narrated in the book of Esther actually happened, but whether its historical setting is crucial to our understanding of it. The narrative opens by noting the historical moment when the events take place: “It happened in the days of Ahasuerus—that Ahasuerus who reigned over a hundred and twenty-seven provinces from India to Ethiopia”

47.  Berlin, Esther, xv. See also Greenstein, Jewish Reading. Bear in mind that no record of this story has been found in Persian sources (N. S. Doniach, Purim or the Feast of Esther [Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1933] 9–53; P. Goodman, The Purim Anthology [Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1949]; Moore, Esther, 220– 26). At the same time, from a Persian perspective, the Purim story is not extraordinary: it is quite reasonable to assume that political tensions, like royal decrees disseminated throughout the royal realm, were fairly common. The lack of any sign of Persian interest in the story is not proof that it never took place. Compare with James Kugel: “The book of Esther contains a somewhat farcical, but probably not entirely fanciful, depiction of one Persian emperor, Ahasuerus (probably Xerxes I, 485–465 bce)” ( J. L. Kugel, How to Read the Bible [New York: Free Press, 2007] 645). 48.  Such as O. Eissfeldt, The Old Testament: An Introduction (trans. P. R. Ackroyd; Oxford: Blackwell, 1966); and, following his example, Y. Kaufmann, History of the Israelite Faith (Tel Aviv: Bialik, 1960) 440: “In its details the narrative is an artistic creation, but it is based upon a historical event.”

18

Chapter 1

(1:1). 49 This introduction does not sound foreign to anyone familiar with the Bible, although only four other narratives begin in this way. 50 The setting of the narrative at a specific historical point establishes a reading consciousness and has a significant influence on the analysis of the events. In a narrative that makes no mention of any time frame, the reader tends to ignore the issue of its historical location (as, for example, in Job), while the background in a narrative that begins by noting its historical context can be expected to influence the reader’s understanding of the events or their significance. 51 The historical setting of a book is of considerable significance to the work’s hidden messages, and conversely, a fundamental aspect of the message is the specific historical period within which the plot is narrated. Interestingly, the introductory verse focuses the reader’s attention on the Persian regime rather than the corresponding state of the Jewish state (for instance, “It was during the seventh year of the exile of Judah,” or the like). 52 In this respect, the narrator plays innocent and conveys the sense that he is about to tell a story of the Persian Empire—as I noted in my discussion of the literary structure of the narrative as a whole. As we shall see below, this is one of the motifs interwoven throughout: the disparity between the Persian exterior of the narrative and the Jewish perspective within it. Any discussion of the historical setting that opens the narrative must mention the well-known debate regarding the identity of King Ahasuerus. Clearly, he was one of the Persian kings of the Achaemenid dynasty (539–330 b.c.e.), which comprised ten generations of kings, beginning with Cyrus’s defeat of the Babylonians (539 b.c.e.) and ending with the death of Darius III (330 b.c.e.), approximately three years after the conquest of the Persian Empire by Alexander the Great, which ushered in the Hellenistic period. 53 However, which of the Achaemenid kings was Ahasuerus? Contemporary scholarly opinion is divided into two main schools of thought:

49. The jps 1985 sometimes translates ‫‘ כוש‬Ethiopia’ and sometimes ‘Nubia’. 50.  The war of the four kings against the five and the rescue of Lot (Gen 14:1); the war of Aram and Israel against Ahaz, king of Judah (Isa 7:1); Jer 1:1; Ruth 1:1. See Y. Shapira, A Postmodernist Reading of the Biblical Book of Esther: From Cultural Disintegration to Carnivalesque Text (Ph.D. diss., State University of New York, 1996) 161–66. 51.  Compare Edward F. Campbell Jr., Ruth (AB 7; New York: Doubleday, 1975) 57 (on Ruth 1:1). 52.  Compare, for example, the beginning of Ezekiel: “On the fifth day of the month— it was the fifth year of the exile of King Jehoiachin” (Ezek 1:2). 53.  See, for example: A. T. Olmstead, History of the Persian Empire (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1948); Georges Roux, Ancient Iraq (3rd ed.; London: Penguin, 1992) 405–12.

Introduction

19

1. Giving the narrative a later date tends to identify Ahasuerus with Artaxerxes II (403–359 b.c.e.). This view is supported by the Septuagint (where the king’s name appears as Artaxerxes) and by Josephus. 54

2. An earlier—and more widely accepted—date identifies Ahasuerus as Xerxes I (486–465 b.c.e.). 55 This latter view rests on four major premises: 56 1. The king’s Persian name, ‫חשיארש‬, is very similar to the name in Hebrew, ‫אחשורוש‬, especially if we note the way in which the name is written in 10:1, without the waw. 57

2. The Greek historian Herodotus, who describes the Achaemenid Persian dynasty in vivid colors, speaks of Xerxes as a king overcome with lust for women and wine (echoing the description of Ahasuerus in the book), as having a magnificent palace in Shushan, and as reigning from India to Ethiopia. 3. In the Babylonian city of Sippar, an administrative record was discovered noting that during the period of this king there was a senior official by the name of Mardukâ from the city of Shushan who served as the royal treasurer. This name is highly reminiscent of Mordecai the Jew. 58 4. The only other biblical reference (outside of the book of Esther) to Haman’s decree, in Ezra, seems to identify Ahasuerus as Xerxes: Thereupon the people of the land undermined the resolve of the people of Judah, and made them afraid to build. They bribed ministers in order to thwart their plans all the years of King Cyrus of Persia and until the reign of King Darius of Persia. And in the reign of Ahasuerus, at the start of his reign, they drew up an accusation against the inhabitants of Judah and Jerusalem. And in the time of Artaxerxes. . . . (Ezra 4:4–7)

If, indeed, Ahasuerus was Xerxes, then we have an orderly account of the beginning of the dynasty: Cyrus—Darius—Xerxes (Ahasuerus)— Artaxerxes. 59 54.  Ant. 11.6.1. For elaboration on this complex issue, see J. Hoschander, The Book of Esther in Light of History (Philadelphia: Dropsie College for Hebrew and Cognate Learning, 1923) 42–80, 125–29, 166–68, 236. This view is adopted by M. Heltzer, “Introduction to Esther,” in Five Megiloth (The World of the Bible; Tel Aviv: Davidson Atai, 1994) 216. 55.  For example: Paton, Esther, 51–54; E. M. Yamauchi, “Ahasuerus,” ABD 1.105. 56.  For elaboration on this issue, see Moore, Esther, xxxiv–xliv. 57.  See for example, R. Stiehl (Berlin), “Das Buch Esther,” WZKM 53 (1956) 11. There is an Aramaic inscription in which the king is called ‫( אחשירש‬with an ʾalep prefix), similar to its appearance in the book of Esther. Some scholars maintain that the addition of the ʾalep was meant to ease the difficulty of pronouncing the opening consonantal combination as it appears in Persian (‫ ;חשיארשא‬M. Haltzer, Ezra [The World of the Bible; Tel Aviv: Davidson Atai, 1994] 150). See also W. H. Shea, “Esther and History,” AUSS 14 (1976) 227–46. 58.  C. A. Moore, “Archaeology and the Book of Esther,” BA 38 (1975) 74. 59.  The omission of any explicit reference to Cambyses may be explained by the expression “until the reign of Darius,” hinting that the period of Cambyses is included in this description.

20

Chapter 1

As noted, this is the most widely accepted conclusion by scholars of this period, and—as we shall discover—this information is of great importance in unearthing the concealed meanings of the narrative. Let us now turn our attention to one fact of extreme importance for understanding the real context of the story. If Ahasuerus is indeed Xerxes, then the narrative transpires about 100 years after the destruction of the First Temple and—more importantly—about 30 years after the dedication of the altar of the Second Temple. 60 Thus, it becomes immediately apparent that the Jews of Shushan—including Mordecai and Esther—were not among the Jews who took advantage of Cyrus’s proclamation allowing them to return to Yehud and rebuild the Temple. While the Jewish settlement in Yehud struggled to survive and rebuild the Temple, the Jews of Shushan sat comfortably, enjoying the sumptuous feast organized by the Persian king for all the inhabitants of his capital. The situation of the Jews who had returned from the Babylonian Exile was dire, both in the religiopolitical realm (since the other nations living in the land opposed the rebuilding of the Temple) and in the economic sphere; some were even forced to sell their children into indentured servitude in order to pay the heavy taxes imposed on them (Neh 5:1–4). Toward the end of Nehemiah’s leadership, the priestly tithes and other gifts were suspended for lack of financial ability (Neh 13:10). 61 However, while this battle for survival was going on in their homeland, the Jews of Shushan flourished and enjoyed an abundance of material comforts. At the beginning of the story, we discern no hint of discrimination against the Jews of Shushan. On the contrary—some of them attain senior positions in the Persian kingdom, and some of their children even marry into Persian royalty. As noted previously, the introductory words, “It happened in the days of Ahasuerus . . .” focus the reader’s consciousness of historical time away from what was going on in Yehud and toward the events in Persia. Does the author truly imply that the story has nothing to do with the events taking place concurrently in Yehud, or does he simply feign ignorance, pointing to his discomfort in focusing on the Jews of Shushan while neglecting their brothers and sisters who are struggling desperately in Yehud? It is interesting to go back to the description of Haman’s decrees as recorded in Ezra—a description that reflects the perspective of the individu60.  If we identify Ahasuerus with Artaxerxes II, then Esther’s setting is pushed even further into the Second Temple Era. 61.  See on this issue: J. Weinberg, “Jerusalem in the Persian Period,” in The History of Jerusalem: The Biblical Period (ed. S. Ahituv and A. Mazar; Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, 2000) 307–26; S. Japhet, “The Temple of the Restoration Period: Reality and Ideology,” in The History of Jerusalem: The Biblical Period (ed. S. Ahituv and A. Mazar; Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, 2000) 345–82.

Introduction

21

als who had returned to Zion: “And in the reign of Ahasuerus, at the start of his reign, they drew up an accusation against the inhabitants of Judah and Jerusalem” (Ezra 4:6). If the accusation recorded in this verse refers to Haman’s decree, then it is described in a most surprising manner. 62 Was Haman’s decree really only referring to “the inhabitants of Judah and Jerusalem”? From the description of the decrees in the book of Esther, we know that they applied throughout “all of the king’s provinces”! This may be a rare instance in which we discern a dual attitude toward the same event from two real, historical perspectives in two different works. Esther, narrated from the Shushanite perspective, depicts the danger threatening the continuity of the entire Jewish people and the great salvation that comes to the Jews thanks to the actions of Mordecai and Esther. By contrast, in Ezra—written from the perspective of returnees to Yehud— the focus of the decrees is the danger that they pose toward the Jewish settlement in the land. The book’s focus on the Jews’ attempt to renew their national existence in their land places the events of this period under a “land-of-Israel” magnifying glass, and it is from this perspective that Haman’s decrees are conveyed. The difference in perspective is no mere literary discrepancy; it hints at a political difference of opinion or an ideological-moral debate. The two Jewish centers of the time were at odds, and the chronicler seeking to record the story of Jewish history was forced to choose where his focus would lie: with Yehud—where the Jewish settlement struggled for its survival, trying to maintain the Second Temple—or with the majority of the Jewish people, who remained in Babylonian-Persian Exile. As noted, the rabbis (especially in b. Megillah) exposited hidden literary readings of the book of Esther. The tension between the inhabitants of Shushan and the inhabitants of Yehud surfaces in several of their teachings. 63 Thus, for example, Ahasuerus is described as counting 70 years from the time when Israel was led into exile; and when he saw that after 70 years (according to his count) they had not been redeemed, he assumed that they never would be. At this point, he brought out the Temple vessels and 62.  The question whether the passage in Ezra is hinting at Haman’s decrees is complicated; for some reason, the text does not explicitly say what the accusation was. In any event, since Ahasuerus is mentioned, it is reasonable to posit that the reference is to the same event. 63.  An echo of the discomfort at the excessive and hedonistic conditions of the Jews in Shushan is discerned in the Babylonian Talmud’s attempt to clarify which sins of the Jews made them deserve such a terrible decree of destruction: “The students of Rabbi Shimon ben Yochai asked him: Why were [the enemies of] Israel in that generation deserving of annihilation? He said to them: You tell me. They said to him: Because they enjoyed the feast of that wicked one” (b. Meg. 12a). Although Rabbi Shimon ben Yochai goes on to suggest a different explanation, it is difficult not to sense the critical view rising from the Talmud toward the Jews of Shushan for the very fact that they lived in Persia and they participated in the king’s feast.

22

Chapter 1

used them at the feast that he held for the inhabitants of Shushan (b. Meg. 11a). 64 Ahasuerus’s use of the Temple vessels is thus presented as an alternative to their intended use in their original home. In other words, because the Jews were not going to be redeemed and the Temple was not going to be rebuilt, the vessels could serve the Persian king at his feast. 65 Can we find any hint about this tension in the text itself? Does the author hint in any way at the Jewish center in Yehud and the rebuilding of the Temple there? It appears that the answer is yes. There are hints throughout the narrative, but for now let us concentrate on the description of the royal palace and the description of the feasts in chap. 1. Paton comments on some literary connections between the palace of Ahasuerus and the Temple Sanctuary in Jerusalem. 66 These connections exist on both the architectural and the linguistic levels in the description of the feast: the description of the structure of the royal palace is reminiscent of the structure of the Temple—especially as recorded in the vision of Ezekiel. 67 The most striking part of the comparison is in the arrangement of the royal palace in two halls, “The inner court of the king’s palace” (5:1) and “the outer court” (6:4). This connection may find further support in the author’s use of the title ‘capital’ (‫ )בירה‬for the palace precinct in Shushan. 68 This was clearly a common name for the Persian capital district. Daniel also refers to it thus: “And I saw in the vision—at the time I saw it I was in the fortress (‫ )בירה‬of Shushan, in the province of Elam” (Dan 8:2). 64.  See also b. Meg. 19a. 65.  Other midrashim hint at a tension between the two edifices: “‘When he showed the riches of his glorious kingdom’—Rabbi Yossi bar Hanina taught: This teaches that he wore the priestly garments. In this context (Esther) it is written, ‘The splendid glory of his majesty’ (1:4), whereas there (Exod 28:2, in the context of the priestly garments worn in the Temple) it is written, ‘for dignity and adornment’” (b. Meg. 12a). Thus, according to the talmudic sages, not only were the vessels of the Temple put to “alternative” use, but the priestly garments as well. The Talmud continues by showing that the name of each of the seven ministers who were “near unto” the king, listed in 1:14, evokes a different service that had been performed in the destroyed Temple. Thus, the conflict between the feast of Ahasuerus and the sacrificial feasting that was held in the Temple of God is clearly discernible and serves as a basis for further midrashim. Finally, we may mention the talmudic exposition on the threat that the king sensed was facing his kingdom: “The king said to her, to Queen Esther: ‘What is your request? Up to half of the kingdom—it shall be performed.’ ‘Half of the kingdom’—but not the entire kingdom, nor something that will block the kingdom. What would that be? The building of the Temple” (b. Meg. 15b). It is worth noting, however, that the rabbis unequivocally locate the reign of Ahasuerus before the rebuilding of the Second Temple. 66.  Paton, Esther, 138–39. 67. Y. Bin-Nun, “Book of Reversals,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 47–54 [Heb.]. 68.  Shushan was the capital of Elam, which Darius made into the major administrative capital of the Persian Empire. On its western side, Darius built a fortified royal city that was called “Shushan the Capital.” The source of the name ‫‘( בירה‬capital’) seems to be the Akkadian birtu meaning ‘fort’ (see further in Olmstead, History, 162–71).

Introduction

23

Nevertheless, it is probably not coincidental that the only other place in the Bible that is referred to as ‫ בירה‬is Jerusalem (and the Temple within it), as, for example, in David’s prayer: “As to my son Solomon, give him a whole heart to observe Your commandments, Your admonitions, and Your laws, and to fulfill them all, and to build this temple (‫ )בירה‬for which I have made provision’” (1 Chr 29:19). It is not clear when this title began to be used for Jerusalem and for the Temple (it is definitely a later word). 69 However, if the author of Esther was familiar with it as a name for Jerusalem, it is possible that he sought thereby to hint at the tension discussed above: which is the ‫ ?בירה‬Which is the royal city—the capital of Ahasuerus’s kingdom or the city in which the Temple is located? In the description of the feast held in the royal palace, it seems that the author of Esther is seeking to bring the image of the Temple to the mind of the reader. Attention should be paid to the materials listed in the description of the feast: “There were hangings of white cotton and blue wool, caught up by cords of fine linen and purple wool” (1:6). A quick comparison shows that the associations aroused by these materials are clearly related to the Temple: •  ‘Blue’ (‫ )תכלת‬is mentioned in the Bible 49 times. Out of these, 42 appearances are connected to the sanctuary and the Temple. 70 •  The “cords of fine linen” likewise are reminiscent of the Temple. ‘Fine linen’ (‫ )בוץ‬is mentioned in the Bible 7 times. It appears twice in the book of Esther and once in Ezekiel’s prophecy concerning Tyre (Ezek 27:16). 71 The other 4 appearances are connected to the Temple and the Ark of God’s Covenant (1 Chr 15:26; 2 Chr 2:13, 3:14, 5:12). •  Finally, the ‘purple’ (‫ )ארגמן‬is mentioned in juxtaposition with these other materials. Out of 38 appearances of this word in the Bible, 29 times it is related to the creation of the sanctuary and the building of the Temple. It is possible that the use of the unusual verb ‫יסד‬, with reference to the establishment of law and custom (“For the king had given orders [‫ ]יסד‬to every palace steward to comply with each man’s wishes”—1:8), may be meant to arouse associations of the verb ‫ יסד‬in the Bible—which concern the establishment of God’s city and God’s house (1 Kgs 6:37; Isa 14:32, 28:16; Hag 2:18; Zech 8:9). Against this background, the reader learns of 69.  BDB, 108. 70.  In regard to the other appearances, there is room to discuss whether they also are connected—at least indirectly—to the idea of the Temple in Israel. Thus, for example, the mention of ‫ תכלת‬in the commandment about fringes on one’s garments (Num 15:38) is apparently connected to the gold diadem that was worn by the high priest and tied with a blue thread to the turban (Exod 28:37). 71.  Not surprisingly, this prophecy also mentions the world of the Temple, in indirect contexts. In this respect, the mention of “fine linen” fits in well.

24

Chapter 1

the king’s establishment of a special law stating that anyone who attends the feast is entitled to drink as much as he chooses of whatever wine he prefers. By invoking these materials and colors, the author seeks to evoke associations with a different place and a different atmosphere. One could still argue that the two palaces are not meant to compete with one another but that one teaches us something about the other. Timothy Laniak raises this idea in a different context, after arguing for an associative relationship between the description of Ahasuerus’s kingdom and a description of God’s kingdom: “In Esther 1, a similar sentiment might be evident: If a human king has the right to banish any subject guilty of disrespect, how much more would God, the King of the Universe.” 72 To my mind, the situation is quite the opposite. The author of Esther seems to present the Temple in Jerusalem as an alternative to his description of the royal palace in Shushan. The unlimited drinking and exaggerated self-aggrandizement with wealth and riches (see further below) do not serve as an introduction to God’s kingdom, as Laniak argues, but as its antithesis. A sophisticated reader, who hears echoes of the Temple behind the description of the royal palace, senses through the author’s hints something of the contrast between the two edifices. 73 The difference between the surface and hidden readings is quite stark; the associations do not serve to deepen the message that arises from the text. In this instance, attention to the Temple associations turns the narrative upside down: the atmosphere of gaiety that characterizes the descriptions of the king’s feasting turns, in the mind of the “implied reader,” into an atmosphere of anguish and destruction. The vivid colors of the feast that, on the level of the plain reading, add majesty to the narrative, suddenly turn into symbols of destruction for the Jewish people, a commemoration of the Temple, and a condemnation of the Jews of Shushan

72.  T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther (SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 58. See also idem, “Esther’s Volkcentrism and the Reframing of Post-Exilic Judaism,” in The Book of Esther in Modern Research (ed. S. W. Crawford and L. J. Greenspoon; JSOTSup 380; London: T. & T. Clark, 2003) 77–90. 73. It is appropriate to conclude this comparison between the two feasts with the comment of the sages concerning the words “when the king was merry with wine” (Esth 1:10): “R. Isaac said: Idolaters have no good, as it is written, ‘There shall be no good for the wicked. . . .’ How, then, can the text say, ‘When the king’s heart was merry (lit., “good”) with wine?’ The answer is: It is not written ‘When the king’s heart was merry . . .’ (‫בטוב‬ ‫)לב המלך‬, but rather ‘‫—’כטוב לב המלך‬it was ‘sort of’ good. But the goodness of Israel is complete, as it is written: and went unto their tents joyful and glad of heart (‫ )טובי לב‬for all the goodness . . .’” (Esth. Rab. 3:11). The verse that is cited to describe the complete goodness of Israel is from the celebration of the establishment of the First Temple (1 Kgs 8:66). The reason for Israel’s joy at that time was “all the goodness that the Lord had shown to his servant David and his people Israel” (Esth. Rab. 3:11). See also on this analogy my “‘Dynamic Analogies’ in the Book of Esther,” VT 59 (2009) 410–12.

Introduction

25

who luxuriate in the lavish royal feast instead of helping their brothers and sisters who have returned to their land.

Where Should the Narrative Begin? The focus on the king’s feast and on its vivid colors must be emphasized from another angle as well—the timeline of the narrative’s plot. The question posed in the above subhead—“Where does the narrative begin?”—may surprise some readers: surely a narrative should begin at the beginning. However, a plot that is composed of small units, each drawing the next along, requires an often-difficult decision: with what image should the narrative begin? How is it best to introduce the reader to the plot? The question may appear sophomoric, but there are some fateful issues at stake. For example, the decision about where the story of Isaac’s blessing of his sons (Genesis 27) begins will significantly affect our judgment of the characters. If we start at the beginning of the chapter (“When Isaac was old . . .”), then we are likely to be critical of Jacob and of Rebecca: how can a son and his mother exploit the weakness of the elderly father so as to “steal” the blessing meant for the other son?! If we use this as our point of departure, we feel that Jacob and his mother have violated a moral principle that is formally defined in Leviticus: “You shall not insult the deaf, or place a stumbling block before the blind. You shall fear your God: I am the Lord” (Lev 19:14). If, on the other hand, we read the episode of the stolen blessing as part of a series of narratives, and against the background of Esau’s sale of his birthright to Jacob and of Rebecca’s oracle about the younger son’s mastery of his older brother (“The older shall serve the younger” [Gen 25:23]), 74 then our moral perception and judgment will be entirely different. 75 This question is of fundamental importance in the book of Esther. The plot consists of small literary units, each of which may be analyzed in its own right, but each of which influences the next and represents its foundation and background. A narrative constructed in this way lends critical significance to the question where the narrative should begin. Indeed, when examining the narrative from this perspective, the reader notes an interesting phenomenon. The book of Esther records the dates of many important landmarks in the plot (Ahasuerus’s feast, the taking of Queen Esther as wife, the dissemination of Haman’s decrees, the dissemination of Mordecai’s letters, and so on). Highlighting these dates draws attention to the temporal order of events and informs the reader that chronology holds the key to understanding the narrative. 76 74.  In accordance with Tg. Onq. and the interpretation of the Rashbam on Gen 25:23 and many others. 75.  Grossman, Ambiguity in the Biblical Narrative, 274–81 [Heb.]. 76.  The multiplicity of dates should also be regarded as an ironic play of innocence: the author presents the kingdom as a place of law and order, while festivity and wine

26

Chapter 1

In any event, the presence of dates makes it easier to follow the narrative. The main plot takes place during the 12th year of the reign of Ahasuerus: at the beginning of this year (Nisan), Haman decides to take revenge on Mordecai and his nation, and he casts a lot (“In the first month, that is, the month of Nisan, in the twelfth year of King Ahasuerus, pur—which means ‘the lot’—was cast before Haman” [3:7]). Later in this same month, he dispatches his wicked decrees (on the 13th of Nisan [3:12]). A short time later, Haman is hanged from the gallows that he prepared for Mordecai, and in Sivan of this same year, Mordecai sends his letters, permitting the Jews to defend themselves (“So the king’s scribes were summoned at that time, on the twenty-third day of the third month, that is, the month of Sivan” [8:9]). In Adar, the last month of the 12th year of Ahasuerus’s reign, the Jews do battle, defending themselves and prevailing over the people who hate them (chap. 9) It would have been possible, then, for the Esther narrative to begin in this year (that is, the same year as the events recounted in chap. 3). If the reader were unaware of the circumstances of Esther’s presence in the palace, the integrity of the plot would not be diminished in any way. On the other hand, an earlier point could have been chosen as the beginning of the narrative: it may have begun with the death of Esther’s parents and her adoption by Mordecai, or Ahasuerus’s ascent to the throne, or the process of Haman’s promotion to his senior position, or with other events. Why, then, did the author choose to begin the narrative with Ahasuerus’s feast and the banishment of Vashti? 77 To answer this question, we must first clarify which stages and developments the author gains by beginning at this particular point. What would the reader be missing if the story began in the 12th year, with Haman’s rise to power (chap.  3)? Three scenes would disappear: Ahasuerus’s feast and the manner in which Vashti was banished (chap. 1), the manner in which Esther was chosen as the new queen, and the manner in which the king became indebted to Mordecai for saving his life (chap. 2). The inclusion in the narrative of the story of Vashti’s removal and the selection of Esther serves to expose some of its fundamental principles. The first of these is what the Babylonian Talmud refers to as “preceding the

reign supreme. On the basis of this element, Israel Rosenson analyzes several motifs in the book, revealing—beneath the formal, legal veneer—profound scorn for the procedures of the Persian kingdom (I. Rosenson, Massekhet Megilloth [2nd ed.; Jerusalem: Efrata, 2002] 184–85 [Heb.]). 77. Sandra Berg emphasizes, quite correctly, that feasting is one of the central motifs accompanying the reader throughout the narrative (Berg, Esther, 31–35). It is reasonable to suggest that introducing the story with such a detailed account of the king’s feasts serves to focus the reader’s attention on the feasts in the story. See also Fox, Character, 156–58; J. Grossman, “Feasting and Fasting in Esther,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; AlonShvut: Tevunot, 1997) 73–91 [Heb.].

Introduction

27

affliction with its cure” (b. Meg. 13b); the elements of salvation are put in place before the threat takes center stage. The innocent reader, upon completing chap. 2, never imagines the possibility that Esther’s arrival in the royal palace holds the seed of salvation for all of the Jews. The “neutral” event of Esther’s selection assumes its proper significance only five years later, when it becomes clear how Esther’s position plays a decisive role in the development of the plot and in saving her entire nation. When the story develops in this way, the reader enters a reading experience in which he or she relinquishes in advance his/her full understanding of the significance of every episode as examined individually. Against his/her will, the reader finds him/herself in perpetual tension with the scene that s/he has not yet encountered, illuminating anew those with which s/he is already familiar, and imbuing them with new meaning. Beyond the molding of the narrative in such a way that the seeds sown in the beginning will ripen later on and assume an important role in the development of the plot, attention should also be paid to the concealed reading that lies behind the description of the feast. It is at this feast that Ahasuerus ascends the literary stage, with the feast revealing something of his values and culture. In other words, aside from the actual development of the plot (the removal of Vashti and her replacement with Esther), these scenes serve to form the image of the king in the narrative.

Who Is the Protagonist of Esther? For the purposes of this discussion, let us adopt the generally accepted definition for the literary term protagonist, or hero, as referring to a central character in the story “who is significantly highlighted and whose actions, fate and inner world occupy the reader’s attention, sometimes also arousing his sympathies.” 78 In general, this character catalyzes the plot, and the narrator follows his or her movements and experiences. There may be a number of main characters in the narrative, with the narrator describing events from alternating points of view. Sometimes it seems that, from a biblical perspective, presenting a certain character as the protagonist is problematic: a human being cannot really be a “main character” in the full sense of the word, since the “main character” in the biblical narrative is always God; it is he who generates the plot. Indeed, it is no coincidence that the protagonists of biblical narrative always have deficiencies and weaknesses. Nevertheless, and with certain reservations, it is generally possible to point to a main character or,

78. Y. Even, Milon Munachei Ha-Sipporet ( Jerusalem: Akademon, 1992) 47. See also: A.  Woloch, The One vs. the Many: Minor Characters and the Space of the Protagonist in the Novel (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004) 319ff.; L. Sage, “Hero,” in The Routledge Dictionary of Literary Terms (ed. P. Childs and R. Fowler; London: Routledge, 2006) 105–7.

28

Chapter 1

alternatively, minor characters who illuminate or assist in the development of the plot. 79 It is not always easy to identify the protagonist of a narrative. Seemingly, it should be intuitively clear from the very first reading (and indeed, this is often the case), but in reality it is difficult to decide, for example, whether the eponymous character or Naomi is the heroine of the book of Ruth. This ambiguity is a product of the fact that the narrative starts by telling the story of Naomi’s departure and the story of her redemption, but chaps. 2 and 3—where the turning point of the narrative takes place—follow Ruth’s actions and her experiences in the field of Boaz and on the threshing floor. Who, then, is the protagonist of the book of Esther? This question is of great significance, for we may assume that the message of the narrative is related to the change that the protagonist undergoes (or to a process that becomes clarified through his or her actions). Mordecai There are several factors supporting Mordecai’s candidacy for protagonist of the Esther narrative. 80 First, note the manner in which the narrative introduces him: “In the fortress Shushan lived a Jew by the name of Mordecai, son of Jair son of Shimei son of Kish, a Benjaminite, who had been exiled from Jerusalem in the group that was carried into exile along with King Jeconiah of Judah, which had been driven into exile by King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon” (2:5–6). The introduction by way of a general title, followed by a more detailed name and lineage (“lived a Jew by the name of . . .”) conveys a sense of great importance; the reader already has some sense of the centrality of the man in question (compare with: “There was a man in the land of Uz named Job. That man was blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil” [Job 1:1]). The lengthy genealogical list, which deviates from the biblical norm of mentioning only the father’s name, also subtly encourages the reader to pay close attention to this character, upon whom the narrative will soon focus. In fact, even the matter of Mordecai’s (or his ancestor’s) exile from Jerusalem, which has no direct bearing on the plot, allows us to glimpse the character’s past; this is more appropriate for a main character than for a minor. Beyond the manner of Mordecai’s presentation, it is clear that it is in the wake of his actions that most of the plot develops: his refusal to bow to 79. See, for example, F. Polak, Biblical Narrative: Aspects of Art and Design (2nd ed.; Jerusalem: Bialik, 1999) 256–61. Regarding the minor character and his role in biblical narrative, see U. Simon, “Minor Characters in Biblical Narrative,” JSOT 46 (1990) 11–19. 80. W. Dommershausen, Die Estherrolle: Stil und Ziel einer alttestamentlicher Schrifl (SBM 6; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1968) 137. See also Moore: “Between Mordecai and Esther the greater hero . . . is Mordecai, who supplied the brains while Esther simply followed his directions” (Esther, lii).

Introduction

29

Haman prompts the latter to issue the decree of the annihilation of Mordecai’s people; this in turn generates the story of the redemption. From this perspective, Mordecai is the catalyst of the narrative, even if other relevant elements stand alongside him. Some readers will claim that the choice of Esther as queen makes her the most obvious candidate for protagonist. However, this conclusion does not sit well with the way in which the relevant scene is molded. Throughout the episode of Esther’s selection as queen, she is passive and stands in Mordecai’s shadow. At the outset, when Esther is taken to the king’s palace, we read: “[W]hen her father and mother died, Mordecai adopted her [‫לקחה‬, literally, ‘took her’] as his own daughter. When the king’s order and edict was proclaimed . . . Esther too was taken (‫ )ותלקח‬into the king’s palace” (2:7–8). Esther is ‘taken’ against her will, while Mordecai initiates and ‘takes’. The same pattern repeats itself when Esther is taken to the king himself: “When the turn came for Esther daughter of Abihail—the uncle of Mordecai, who had adopted (‫ )לקח‬her as his own daughter . . . Esther was taken (‫ )ותלקח‬to King Ahasuerus” (2:15–16). In fact, the portrayal of Esther in this scene repeatedly emphasizes her passivity in contrast to the active Mordecai: “Esther did not reveal her people or her kindred, for Mordecai had told her not to reveal it” (2:10); “When the turn came for Esther daughter of Abihail— the uncle of Mordecai, who had adopted her as his own daughter—to go to the king, she did not ask for anything” (2:15). 81 In this scene specifically, the hierarchical relationship between these two characters finds its clearest expression: Mordecai “would walk about in front of the court of the harem, to learn how Esther was faring and what was happening to her” (2:11). He instructs Esther what to say and what to conceal (2:10). In case the innocent reader imagines that, after Esther is taken to the royal palace and chosen as the queen, her fealty to Mordecai waned, the narrator makes it explicit that the situation remained the same: “for Esther obeyed Mordecai’s bidding, as she had done when she was under his tutelage” (2:20). The centrality of Mordecai—even in relation to Esther—stands out prominently in the next scene, where Mordecai reveals the plot of the chamberlains to assassinate the king (2:21–23). There, too, Mordecai catalyzes the plot; Esther merely conveys the message to the king. Indeed, Esther herself sees her role in this light: “Esther reported it to the king in Mordecai’s name” (2:22). This pattern continues until the first half of chap. 4. At the beginning of this chapter, the narrator continues to follow Mordecai: “When Mordecai learned all that had happened, Mordecai tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes. He went through the city, crying out loudly and bitterly, 81.  See below in my discussion of Esther 2 (pp. 64–65).

30

Chapter 1

until he came in front of the palace gate; for one could not enter the palace gate wearing sackcloth” (4:1–2). Here it becomes apparent that Esther does not even know of the decrees; it appears—at least at the beginning of the scene—that Esther has exited the narrative. She does not feature here even as a minor character. However, a major shift occurs over the course of the dialogue between Esther and Mordecai. Though the plot has not yet reached its major turning point, Esther’s thinking certainly undergoes a revolutionary change and, as we shall presently see, this scene also represents a turning point in the designation of the active characters. Esther In the first part of the dialogue between Mordecai and Esther, the theme of “commanding” or “charging” stands out prominently. Esther commands Hathach to find out why Mordecai is dressed in mourning garb (4:5, 10), and Mordecai sends Hathach back with a clear “command” to Esther: “[C]harge her to go to the king and to appeal to him and to plead with him for her people” (4:8). This state of affairs remains consistent with the earlier description: Esther commands the person who is subordinate to her—Hathach (since he is “one of the eunuchs whom the king had appointed to serve her” [4:5]), while Mordecai commands the person who is subservient to him—Esther (who continues to obey Mordecai’s word). In this sense, the image of “commanding” sits well with the general linguistic texture of the narrative, since the relationship between Mordecai and Esther has been described twice already using exactly the same word: “Esther did not reveal her people or her kindred, for Mordecai had charged her not to reveal it” (2:10); “But Esther still did not reveal her kindred or her people, as Mordecai had charged her” (2:20). It is somewhat surprising, then, to discover that, at the end of the emotional dialogue between Mordecai and Esther, the situation is reversed: “So Mordecai went about [the city] and did just as Esther had charged him”(4:17). 82 Suddenly, Mordecai no longer commands Esther; now Esther issues commands to him, and he obeys Esther’s word. 83 From this point onward, the plot develops around Esther: it is she who invites the king and his second-in-command to the two parties that she prepares; she brings Haman to the gallows 84 and, later on, she under82. The jps 1985 renders ‘told’ in 2:10, ‘instructed’ in 2:20, and ‘commanded’ in 4:17. I translate all ‘charged’, as in 4:8, to draw attention to the fact that the same Hebrew root, ṣ-w-h, meaning ‘command’ or ‘charge’, appears in each instance. 83. T. K. Beal, Esther (Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN:  Liturgical Press, 1999) 57; L. R. Klein, “Honor and Shames in Esther,” in A Feminist Companion to Esther, Judith and Susanna (ed. A. Brenner; Feminist Companion to the Bible 7; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995) 162–63. 84. As Fox rightly emphasizes, Mordecai suggests only general operative guidelines; it is Esther who works out the details of the plan (Fox, Character, 200).

Introduction

31

mines Haman’s decree: “Esther spoke to the king again, falling at his feet and weeping, and beseeching him to avert the evil plotted by Haman the Agagite against the Jews” (8:3). Attention should be paid to the fact that this happens even after Mordecai has reentered the picture, stood before the king, and received Haman’s ring (8:1–2). We might have expected Haman’s replacement to cancel his decrees; however, Esther plays the heroine, while Mordecai remains a minor character at her side: From this point [chap. 4] onwards whatever Esther tells them, they will obey. Everyone! Mordecai, Haman, the king, everyone—for all generations, are obliged to heed Esther’s word, for ‘Esther’s word confirmed these matters of Purim. . . .’ From this point onwards Esther is revealed in her full feminine stature, for she—unlike Vashti, who ‘refuses’—continues to weave and spin with threads of grace, magic and parties, until she achieves her aims. 85

The relationship between Mordecai and Esther has changed beyond recognition: “That very day King Ahasuerus gave the property of Haman, the enemy of the Jews, to Queen Esther. Mordecai presented himself to the king, for Esther had revealed how he was related to her. The king slipped off his ring, which he had taken back from Haman, and gave it to Mordecai, and Esther put Mordecai in charge of Haman’s property” (8:1–2). The king gives the house of Haman to Esther, and she, in turn, appoints Mordecai over the house. 86 Moreover, Mordecai’s privilege of appearing before the king and receiving his special status comes about by virtue of Esther: “For Esther had told what he was unto her.” In chap. 2, Esther “did not reveal” her origins at Mordecai’s command; now she “reveals” her relationship to Mordecai, a fact that garners him—because of Esther—respected status and title. Factors Leading to the Turning Point The literary transition between the protagonists reflects the psychological turning point that the characters themselves experience. During the course of the dialogue between Mordecai and Esther, we hear, for the first and last time in the narrative, motifs relating to God’s providence toward his people (“relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another quarter” [4:14]); personal destiny (“And who knows, perhaps you have attained to royal position for just such a crisis” [4:14]); fasting (“fast in my behalf; do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my maidens will observe the same fast” [4:16]); and self-sacrifice (“Then I shall go to the king, though it is contrary to the law; and if I am to perish, I shall perish!” 85. A. Daim-Goldbar, “The Literary Foundation of the Book of Esther,” Criticism and Interpretation 11–12 (1978) 289. See also: Z. Weisman, Political Satire in the Bible ( Jerusalem: Bialik, 1996) 248; Levenson, Esther, 80–82; L. M. Day, Esther (Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries; Nashville: Abingdon, 2005) 88–90. 86.  B. W. Jones, “Two Misconceptions about the Book of Esther,” CBQ 39 (1977) 176.

32

Chapter 1

[4:16]). 87 Against a backdrop of incessant drinking and partying that pervade the narrative from beginning to end, Esther declares a three-day fast. 88 By her act of self-sacrifice on behalf of her people, Esther takes the reins of the narrative and becomes its protagonist. From this moment on, the fate of the Jews will depend on her actions. The narrator chooses to focus specifically on her rather than on the older Mordecai, who also holds a position in Ahasuerus’s regime. Perhaps the focus on Esther is related, once again, to the theme of mystery and surprise in the narrative: the passive young girl, taken to the king’s palace against her will, not the venerable Jew of the king’s court acts decisively, against the reader’s expectations. The scene in which Mordecai rides through the streets of Shushan on the king’s horse remains the obvious turning point of the plot. 89 Nevertheless, another revolution—an invisible, psychological revolution within Esther— takes place and holds greater, if less detectable significance for the development of the plot, 90 as Meinhold defined it: “the spiritual mid-point.” Conclusion of the Narrative: Two Protagonists At this point, we may state that Esther contains two characters that deserve consideration as protagonists. Note, however, that at no point do both characters, Mordecai and Esther, behave as protagonists simultaneously. In the first part of the narrative, Mordecai plays the protagonist; in the second part, it is Esther who plays the hero. In each half, the nonheroic character is presented as secondary to the hero: in the first half, Esther is nothing more than Mordecai’s proxy inside the palace, whereas in the second half, Mordecai obeys Esther’s instructions. 91 However, we cannot conclude this discussion without noting how the narrative ends; from the moment that Esther presents Mordecai to the king, the two characters become joint protagonists of the story. The king addresses them together: “Then King Ahasuerus said to Queen Esther and Mordecai the Jew . . . ‘[Y]ou [plural—‫ ]אתם‬may further write with regard to 87. See my discussion of chap. 4, below, pp. 115–123. 88.  Grossman, Feasting. Compare with Linda Day: “The fasting, therefore, functions symbolically in the story as an act of resistance; such refraining from drink may even be seen as a form of nonviolent protest” (Day, Esther, 88). 89.  Fox, Character, 82; Laniak, Shame, 99. 90.  Compare with Berg, Esther, 110; Fox, Character, 66–67; Laniak, Shame, 90–91. 91. Indeed, the ambiguity about who the protagonist is has lead some scholars to suggest that the Esther narrative was composed of two separate sources. See, for example: H. Cazelles, “Note sur la composition du rouleau d’Esther,” in Lex tua veritas: Festschrift für Hubert Junker (ed. H. Gross and F. Musser; Trier: Paulinusverlag, 1961) 17–29; H. Bardtke, Das Buch Esther (KAT; Gütersloh: Mohn, 1963) 250–51; H. Ringgren, Das Buch Esther (ATD; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1958) 374ff.; E. Bickerman, Four Strange Books of the Bible (New York: Schocken, 1967).

Introduction

33

the Jews as you see fit’ ” (8:7–8). These words serve once again to emphasize Esther’s special status: “I have given Haman’s property to Esther” (8:7, despite the fact that Mordecai is actually responsible for Haman’s house, the king states that he has given the house “to Esther”), but we hear of Mordecai’s actions immediately thereafter: So the king’s scribes were summoned at that time, on the twenty-third day of the third month, that is, the month of Sivan; and letters were written, at Mordecai’s dictation, to the Jews and to the satraps, the governors and the officials of the one hundred and twenty-seven provinces from India to Ethiopia: to every province in its own script and to every people in its own language, and to the Jews in their own script and language. He had them written in the name of King Ahasuerus and sealed with the king’s signet. Letters were dispatched by mounted couriers, riding steeds used in the king’s service, bred of the royal stud. (8:9–10)

Once again, Mordecai “commands”: he “dictates,” “seals,” and “dispatches”; he returns to action. Moreover, we now hear that “Mordecai was now powerful in the royal palace, and his fame was spreading through all the provinces; the man Mordecai was growing ever more powerful” (9:4). It is difficult to ignore the special title “the man Mordecai,” which takes us back (especially in the context of the present discussion) to Mordecai’s introductory moniker: “A Jewish man” (2:5). 92 However, we should not be misled into thinking that Esther has vacated her role. The king reports the battle’s results to Esther even though Mordecai sent the letters permitting the Jews to defend themselves: “The king said to Queen Esther, ‘In the fortress Shushan alone the Jews have killed a total of five hundred men, as well as the ten sons of Haman. What then must they have done in the provinces of the realm! What is your wish now? It shall be granted you. And what else is your request? It shall be fulfilled’” (9:12). Esther, of her own initiative and without consulting Mordecai, added another day of fighting in Shushan (9:13). The amalgamation of the two protagonists finds particularly striking expression in the process of establishing Purim as a holiday. At first, Mordecai 92.  Between these two points in time, Mordecai was also “the man whose honor the king seeks” (6:6), while Haman, in contrast, was “the man who is an enemy and adversary” (7:6; note that jps 1985 does not reflect the presence of the word ‫ איש‬in any of these passages). Indeed, the sages sensed that the description of the banquet with which the narrative opens, where we read, “to comply with each man’s wishes” (in Hebrew, ‫איש ואיש‬, 1:8) hints at the two ‘men’ of the scroll: “‘To perform the will of every man’—Rabba said: To perform the will of Mordecai and Haman. Mordecai—as it is written: ‘A Jewish man . . . ,’ and Haman—as it is written: ‘A man who is an enemy and adversary’” (b. Meg. 12a). In other words, the roots of the battle waged by Mordecai and Esther may be traced all the way back to the first banquet, where Mordecai and Haman drank side by side. It should also be noted that this talmudic passage seems to view Mordecai and Haman, the “Jew” and the “enemy,” as the narrative’s protagonist and antagonist.

34

Chapter 1

sends a letter to all the Jews in which he asks that they celebrate for two days: “And Mordecai wrote these things, and sent letters unto all the Jews that were in all the provinces of the king Ahasuerus, both nigh and far, to enjoin them that they should keep the fourteenth day of the month Adar, and the fifteenth day of the same, yearly “ (9:20–21). Immediately thereafter, Esther joins in this initiative, and more letters are sent: “Then Esther the queen, the daughter of Abihail, and Mordecai the Jew, wrote. . . . And the commandment of Esther confirmed these matters of Purim; and it was written in the book” (9:29, 32). The ambiguity of these verses is deliberate: whose word do the Jews of all the provinces ultimately obey, Mordecai’s (“He sent letters”), Esther’s (“Esther’s word confirmed”), or perhaps both of them (“Queen Esther, daughter of Abihail, and Mordecai the Jew,” “As Mordecai the Jew and Queen Esther had established for them”)? The text clearly implies that Mordecai’s request would not have sufficed; Esther had to intervene—perhaps even using her royal influence—as emphasized at the end of the scene: “Esther’s word confirmed these matters of Purim, and it was written in the book.” 93 At the same time, the narrative ends by noting the unique status of Mordecai: All his mighty and powerful acts, and a full account of the greatness to which the king advanced Mordecai, are recorded in the Annals of the Kings of Media and Persia. For Mordecai the Jew ranked next to King Ahasuerus and was highly regarded by the Jews and popular with the multitude of his brethren; he sought the good of his people and interceded for the welfare of all his kindred. (10:2–3)

We arrive, then, at the following complex conclusion; in the first part of the narrative, Mordecai and Esther alternate as protagonists, while in the concluding chapters, they become joint protagonists: “Chapter 9 . . . also shows confusion about the respective authority of Esther and Mordecai. . . . In some measure they seem to share power.” 94 This conclusion contributes greatly to our understanding of the relationship between Mordecai and Esther and its transformation in the narrative. Initially, Mordecai relates to Esther as an adoptive guardian: “He was foster father to Hadassah—that is, Esther—his uncle’s daughter, for she had neither father nor mother. . . . Mordecai adopted her as his own daughter” (2:7). As such, Esther obeys Mordecai’s commands, as befits a daughter. As the narrative progresses, however, Esther leaves Mordecai’s protection. She 93. Below (pp. 203–206), I shall address the meaning of the covert battle that is hinted at in the establishment of the days of the festival. 94.  Berlin, Esther, lvii. Berlin adds that, ultimately, Mordecai appears to have a more central role in the establishment of the festival. In summary, she writes: “Mordecai and Esther are co-heroes, each contributing in ways that are congruent with their gender roles in the world of the biblical narrative in the Persian period” (ibid.). Compare with D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story ( JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 33.

Introduction

35

develops a complex, independent personality only after her physical (and psychological) separation from Mordecai when she is taken to the palace. This separation and the constructing of Esther’s personality as distinct from Mordecai allowed the two of them to reconnect and relate to one another as equals. From then on, their relationship (retroactively) assumed a different character: “Do not read ‘as a daughter,’ but rather ‘as a home [wife]’” (b. Meg. 13a). 95 Even if it happened in the “house of Haman” that Esther gave to Mordecai, the two protagonists reunited as high-ranking members of Ahasuerus’s kingdom—but on equal footing. Antihero: The King It would be unfair to discuss the protagonist of the book of Esther without mentioning Ahasuerus, who “ruled from India to Ethiopia.” The principal means of attempting to follow the protagonist of a particular narrative is to see who is mentioned in most of its scenes. Whom does the narrator follow? Whose experiences is he recording? In response to this parameter, we cannot escape the conclusion that the protagonist of the Esther narrative is none other than Ahasuerus. The narrative opens with him and a description of his kingship (“It happened in the days of Ahasuerus—that Ahasuerus who reigned over a hundred and twenty-seven provinces from India to Ethiopia . . .” [1:1]); in the early stages of the narrative, the other important characters (Mordecai, Esther, Haman) in the plot are not even mentioned. The end of the narrative also places Ahasuerus’s narrative at the center of what the narrator seeks to share with us: “All his mighty and powerful acts, and a full account of the greatness to which the king advanced Mordecai, are recorded in the Annals of the Kings of Media and Persia” (10:2). A cursory review of all scenes in the narrative reveals the king to be the central character in most of them. Whether he is active (as in the banquets 95. Rabbi Meir, who offers this homiletic lesson, presents another example, borrowed from the rebuke of the prophet Nathan to King David, following his sin with Bathsheba: “We learn in the name of Rabbi Meir: Do not read ‘As a daughter,’ but rather ‘As a home.’ Similarly, it says, ‘The poor man had nothing but a single, small ewe which he had bought so that he might live; and it grew up together with him and his children; it ate from his bread and drank from his cup, and it lay in his bosom, and was like a daughter to him.’ If it lay in his bosom, would this make it ‘like a daughter’ to him?! [Surely not;] rather, ‘Like a home [wife].’ Likewise in our case (concerning Esther)—‘As a home.’” The tension noted by Rabbi Meir in the case of the poor man’s lamb is obvious: how are we to understand the two contradictory images: “it lay in his bosom” and “it was like a daughter to him”? At the same time, it must be remembered that the woman involved, in David’s case, was “Bath [lit., daughter] sheba,” and it is possible that the comparison of the lamb to a daughter is meant to hint at her name (M. Garsiel, Biblical Names: A Literary Study of Midrashic Derivations and Puns [Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 1991] 86–87; Grossman, Ambiguity, 99 [Heb.]). For further study of Esther against the background of the sin of David and Bathsheba, see Rosenson, Megillot, 185 [Heb.].

36

Chapter 1

with which the narrative opens or on the night when he is unable to sleep) or merely in the background (as in the selection of a new queen), nothing happens in the kingdom without the king’s permission. It therefore appears that everything depends on his word and that he stands out as the obvious protagonist. The bewilderment that the reader experiences when encountering the evidence for the king as protagonist is no coincidence. Needless to say, there is an unfathomable chasm separating the literary form, which opens and concludes with the king, and the content of the narrative, in which it appears that the king is the character who actually has the least influence over what happens. Almost every character who is mentioned in the narrative makes some contribution toward moving the plot along—except for the king who, aside from a few statements (which are surprising enough in themselves), such as, “Quick, then! Get the garb and the horse, as you have said” (6:10), or “Hang him on it!” (7:9), does not make his own decisions. Even at the most critical junctures of the kingdom, various advisers make the important decisions (Memucan, to banish Vashti; “the king’s attendants,” to find a new queen; Haman, to decree annihilation; and Mordecai and Esther, to decree salvation). Henshke is correct in noting that the real subject of the book of Esther is not the battle between Haman and Mordecai at all; this battle is nothing more than a test case, by means of which the author sketches the nature of Ahasuerus’ kingship—i.e., mortal kingship. The king, as such, is the true subject of the scroll, which comes to deride—by means of sharp satire—the royal pretensions of men. 96

In this sense, the description of the king’s centrality should be viewed as ironic, seeking to emphasize the discrepancy between what is expected of a king and his actual performance. We may define the king as an antihero: “A person who is unable to act in the world around him, for social reasons and owing to his psychological makeup.” 97 Obviously, when the character who functions in this way is the king, it raises important questions, for what is the role of the king if not to rule? The presentation of Ahasuerus as the protagonist of Esther is, once again, part of the technique of “hidden writing,” in that the true hero who moves 96. D. Henshke, “Esther: A Literary Costume,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 99 [Heb.]. I find it difficult to accept his extreme formulation regarding “the true subject of the book of Esther.” As I see it, even if this is one of the book’s central subjects (as Henshke convincingly demonstrates), this need not nullify other subjects that the book seeks to clarify and that are anchored to its principal messages. Compare the formulation of Cohen: “It seems that the author of the Scroll wants one’s consideration of this non-regime to lead to the conclusion that it is not the king described in the Megilla who rules the kingdom, but rather that the events in this kingdom are determined elsewhere” (G. H. Cohen, “Introduction To Esther,” in Esther [Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974] 8). 97.  Even, Dictionary, 46; Sage, “Hero,” 107.

Introduction

37

the plot along is hidden in the narrative. All that remains is to describe the actions of those who seem to be the protagonists in the imaginary reality described in the narrative.

Chapter 2

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti (Esther 1) The Kingdom of Ahasuerus (1:1) “It happened in the days of Ahasuerus—that Ahasuerus who reigned over a hundred and twenty-seven provinces from India to Ethiopia” (1:1). The introduction, “It happened in the days of Ahasuerus,” sounds familiar to any reader of biblical narratives. Several other stories begin in the same way (for example, Gen 14:1, Ruth 1:1). This introduction serves to focus the reader’s attention on Ahasuerus and his era. The unusual formulation “that Ahasuerus who reigned . . .” serves two purposes. First, the narrator hereby hints to his readers that he is telling the story from the perspective of a certain distance from the events. It appears that, by the narrator’s time, Ahasuerus was no longer reigning “from India to Ethiopia,” and he therefore must describe to his readers this character’s title and his extensive sphere of influence. Second, the phrase conveys the sense of a famous king, of universal renown. This feeling is strengthened as the description continues: this king reigns over the entire region stretching from India to Ethiopia, a territory that is immediately defined in practical terms: “127 provinces.” 1 Thus, our narrative opens by glorifying the kingdom of Ahasuerus. Many have debated whether the number of provinces (127) in this verse has historical basis. A possible and widely accepted opinion is that the narrator here is referring to provincial counties and not to actual states (Greek sources generally number between 20 and 30 states such as these); 2 1.  “If we rely on the historical accuracy of the count, we must make the book’s vocabulary conform with that number and understand ‘province’ as a district within a satrapy, and we must also take the terms ‘princes of the provinces’ and ‘satraps’ to refer to officials of a lower order” (M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther [2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001] 15, among others). 2.  A. T. Olmstead, History of the Persian Empire (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1948) 59. “A division of the empire into one hundred and twenty-seven provinces is not attested in Persian sources, though Dan. 6:1 speaks of 120 provinces. The Persians generally reckoned between twenty and thirty-one satrapies” (D. J. A. Clines, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther [NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans / London: Marshall, Morgan & Scott, 1984] 275). See also: L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 71–72; L. H. Brockington, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther (NCB; London: Nelson, 1969) 224. For a comprehensive discussion and examination of various opinions, see F. W. Bush, Ruth, Esther (WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998) 345–46.

38

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti

39

however, it is difficult to imagine that a tradition existed that numbered exactly 127 provinces. The provinces mentioned in the book of Daniel are also close to this number; however, here in Esther we encounter the number 127 instead of an even, more-harmonic number such as 120 (Dan 6:2). Why did the narrator feel it fitting to adopt a number that seems so anomalous against a background of the standard biblical writing style—127? This question has been discussed by many, and there are those who even consider it to be unsolvable: “Despite scholarly speculations, no satisfactory explanation exists for the particular number of provinces given here.” 3 Adele Berlin and Jon D. Levenson both note that the number 127 appears only one other time in the Bible—in the story of Sarah’s death and burial in the Cave of the Patriarchs: “Sarah’s lifetime—the span of Sarah’s life—came to one hundred and twenty-seven years” (Gen 23:1). 4 If we accept this connection as reasonable, it may help to explain the narrator’s choice of the specific number 127. 5 Just as in the story of the purchase of the Cave of the Patriarchs Abraham faces a final farewell to his wife, so in the first scene of Esther, which opens with a picture of glory and splendor, the king is about to separate from his wife. Thus the narrator seems to position the burial cave alongside the magnificent castle; a husband weeping over his lost wife is placed beside a drunken king distributing wine to all who desire it. This duality in the presentation of Ahasuerus’s kingdom is even more pronounced in the description of the feasts that he arranges.

Ahasuerus’s Feasts: Generous King or Arrogant King? (1:2–8) A plain reading of the description of Ahasuerus’s feast suggests that the author of the story is giving honor to the king. The motif of kingship 3.  C. A. Moore, Esther (AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971) 4. Some scholars have suggested that the number 127 symbolizes perfection (12 x 10 + 7). For more on this claim, see: W. Dommershausen, Die Estherrolle: Stil und Ziel einer alttestamentlicher Schrifl (SBM 6; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1968) 18; A. Meinhold, Das Buch Esther (ZBK; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1983) 23. 4.  J. D. Levenson, Esther (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997) 43; A. Berlin, Esther: Introduction and Commentary (Mikra Leyisraʾel; Tel Aviv: Am-Oved / Jerusalem: Magnes, 2001) 60. Rabbi Akiba noted this connection in the following midrash: “Rabbi Akiba was sitting and expounding, and his audience was falling asleep. Seeking to rouse them, he said: For what reason did Esther rule over 127 provinces? It was appropriate that Esther, a descendant of Sarah—who lived 127 years—would rule over 127 provinces” (Gen. Rab. 58:3). It is not clear whether Rabbi Akiba was serious about this connection or whether it was merely a device to awaken his sleepy audience. Either way, he interprets this literary connection as shedding a complimentary light on Esther and granting some validity to her reign, representing as it does a continuation of the blessings of the patriarchs and matriarchs from Genesis. 5.  This is also suggested by E. Nissim, “The Secret of the Leading Words and Phrases in the Scroll of Esther,” Bi-Sedeh Hemed 33/5–6 (1990) 49–62.

40

Chapter 2

pervades the first part of the narrative (“that Ahasuerus who reigned from India even unto Ethiopia. . . . King Ahasuerus occupied the royal throne . . . in the third year of his reign . . . the vast riches of his kingdom . . . the king gave . . . in the court of the king’s palace garden. . . . Royal wine was served in abundance, as befits a king. . . . For the king had given orders”), 6 instilling in the reader a sense of wonder at this wealthy and generous kingdom where the king arranges a feast “for all the people who lived in the fortress Shushan, high and low alike” 7 and distributes wine in great abundance. At this feast, the reader first hears of a law established by the king. Comfortingly, the law turns out to concern the drinking of wine: “And the rule for the drinking was, ‘No restrictions!’ For the king had given orders to every palace steward to comply with each man’s wishes” (1:8). Could we imagine a more magnanimous king than one who actually legislates that no one should compel any citizen to drink and that the personnel in charge of his household should “comply with each man’s wishes”? Indeed, several scholars draw this conclusion and view the king at this feast as an exceptionally tolerant figure: The description of the second banquet in Esther pictures a liberal king lavishly entertaining his citizenry. . . . His resources are not only a “feast for the eyes” to be viewed but also a feast for the stomach to be shared. 8

However, a careful reading keeps us from becoming enamored of this impression; the description of the king’s feast in chap.  1 hides elements of scorn for the king and his generosity: 1. The transition from the first feast held by the king (for the princes, lasting 180 days) and the second (for the inhabitants of Shushan, lasting a week) is effected in the text by means of the expression “At the end of this period” (1:5). It seems that the additional week of feasting took place not after the conclusion of the first feast but parallel with it, during the final week of the first feast. This we deduce from the fact that, further on, Ahasuerus seeks to invite Vashti to the feast, “to display her beauty to the peoples and the officials” (1:11). Since the verse mentions both ‘the peoples’ (‫ ) ָהע ִַּמים‬and ‘the officials’ (‫ַּׂשִרים‬ ָ ‫)וה‬, ְ it indicates that on the seventh day of the second feast, the princes who had attended the first one were still in attendance.

6.  The italic words correspond to derivatives of the Hebrew root ‫ מלך‬that appear in 1:1–8. 7.  C. A. Moore translates: “For both the important and the unimportant alike” (Esther [AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971] 1). This interpretation is certainly credible, especially in light of the mention of the “officers of the provinces” who attend the previous feast. At the same time, in other places in the Bible the expression “from great to small” hints more literally at a range of ages, and there is no reason not to adopt that interpretation in this case, too (as indeed various translators do: “From the greatest to the least”). 8. T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther (SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 45.

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti

41

The very fact that the text describes two successive feasts invites a comparison between them—especially if they are held simultaneously. This comparison deserves extensive discussion in its own right, but, for the purposes of the present discussion, we must note one striking fact: at both feasts, the king seeks to “show” something to his many guests. Regarding the first feast, we read: “he displayed the vast riches of his kingdom and the splendid glory of his majesty” (v. 4). At the second feast, as the seven days come to an end, the king wants to “show” his wife: “to display her beauty to the peoples and the officials; for she was a beautiful woman” (v. 11). For Ahasuerus, the queen represents yet another item in his collection of “riches” and “majesty,” which he exhibits to the “peoples and the officials.” 9 It comes as no surprise that there is no direct dialogue between Ahasuerus and Vashti throughout this exchange: the king’s request, Vashti’s refusal, and her removal from the royal palace all take place through the agency of royal messengers. The narrator takes pains to name each of the “seven eunuchs” (v. 10) and each of the king’s “sages learned in procedure” (v. 13); this highlights their intensive involvement in this scene which, as pointed out, replaces any direct dialogue between the king and queen. The king speaks with the princes of the provinces and with his servants, but not with his wife. Jones notes, in this regard, that the queen’s name, Vashti, is phonetically similar to the word vehašetîyâ (‫‘ והׁשתייה‬and the drinking’) in v. 8. This play on sounds is highly ironic for, in the case of the drinking there were “no restrictions,” but Vashti was compelled to do as she was told. Thus, the author hints to us that the desires of his drinking guests concern Ahasuerus more than what Vashti wants. 10 2. As Fox notes, the formulation of the law permitting the drinking of wine is itself strange and also contains a hint of scorn toward the king. 11 From the wording of the verse, we understand that “And the rule for the drinking was, ‘No restrictions!’ For the king had given orders to every palace steward to comply with each man’s wishes” (v.  8). Why the need to legislate that people should not be forced to drink? A kingdom that does not wish to coerce its subjects to do something should simply ignore the activity in its law books; thus, every person will do as s/he pleases. A sensitive reader will understand that, in Ahasuerus’s kingdom, abstainers are rare, and there is a need for a special law allowing them not to drink. 12 9.  “The king is a vain man, delighted to be able to show off ‘the riches of his royal glory and the splendor and pomp of his majesty for many days (1:4), but taken aback when his queen will not submit to being shown off in the same way as another piece of his property” (D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story [JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984] 32). 10.  B. W. Jones, “Two Misconceptions about the Book of Esther,” CBQ 39 (1977) 174; S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure (SBLDS 44; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979) 35–36). 11.  Fox, Character, 17. 12.  Fox himself adopts a different approach (ibid., 17).

42

Chapter 2

3. The author subtly jabs at the king’s exhibitionism by raising the association with King Solomon. 13 Ahasuerus holds his first feast for “all the officials and courtiers” in the third year of his reign. King Solomon likewise held a feast for his servants in the third year of his reign. At the end of 1 Kings 2 (v. 46) we read that, following Shimei’s death and the removal of the last threat to Solomon’s throne, “the kingdom was secured in Solomon’s hands.” This happens “three years later” (1 Kgs 2:39) in Solomon’s reign. Immediately thereafter, the narrator describes the dream in Gibeon, in which God promises Solomon “a wise and discerning mind” (1 Kgs 3:12) as well as other worthy blessings. Following this dream, Solomon went to Jerusalem and “sacrificed burnt offerings and presented offerings of wellbeing; and he made a banquet for all his courtiers” (1 Kgs 3:15). If the connection between the feasts that Ahasuerus and Solomon held for their respective servants consisted solely of common timing (both refer to the third year of the king’s reign) and the identical expression “made a feast for all his [princes and] servants,” it would be difficult to argue for any deliberate literary connection or any especially significant connection at all. However, both stories also use the word pair ‫‘( עושר וכבוד‬riches and glory’) as a central motif. Ahasuerus, it must be remembered, holds his feast with a view to showing all of the princes “the vast riches of his kingdom” (1:4), whereas Solomon foregoes this very thing when God asks him what he will request. Solomon prefers “an understanding mind” (1 Kgs 3:9) so that he can judge the people. Ultimately, God’s abundant blessing to Solomon includes riches as well: “I also grant you what you did not ask for—both riches and glory all your life—the like of which no king has ever had” (3:13). 14 Thus, the servants of these two kings were invited to two altogether different feasts: the invitation that Ahasuerus sent to all of his princes and servants asked them to come and celebrate “the riches of his glorious kingdom,” while Solomon’s invitation was a result of the “discerning heart” with which the king had been blessed by God. The hint at an alternative reign lurking in the background of the description of Ahasuerus’s feast may hint at what the protagonist of the chapter, the Persian king, lacks: a “discerning heart.” This literary connection may have motivated the following midrashic comment: “Rabbi Cohen taught in the name of Rabbi Azaria: ‘Upon his royal throne’—‫ מלכותו‬is written without the waw! 15 [This implies that] he 13. Compare with Y. Shapira, A Postmodernist Reading of the Biblical Book of Esther: From Cultural Disintegration to Carnivalesque Text (Ph.D. diss., State University of New York, 1996) 190–91. 14.  Compare with E. L. Greenstein, “A Jewish Reading of Esther,” in Judaic Perspectives on Ancient Israel (ed. J. Neusner, B. A. Levine, and E. S. Frerichs; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987) 230. 15.  The midrash bases this teaching on the word malkūtô, written defectively, without the waw; the Masoretic Text, however, spells the word in plene form. It is interesting to

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti

43

[Ahasuerus] came to sit upon Solomon’s throne, but was not permitted to. They told him: Any king who is not ruler over the whole world does not sit upon it [that throne]. So he decided to make himself a throne of his own, in its image” (Esth. Rab. 1). 16 From this perspective, Ahasuerus tries to “imitate” the kingship of Solomon by emphasizing the riches and glory that he has attained, like Solomon. However, he succeeds in imitating only the most superficial aspect of Solomon’s kingdom, while remaining devoid of its inner value, the “understanding heart.” 4. Another place where the author appears to hint at the lack of proportion between the façade of the feast and what is actually going on inside is in the description of the location of the feast—in the “court of the king’s palace garden for all the people who lived in the fortress Shushan, high and low alike. White cotton and blue wool, caught up by cords of fine linen and purple wool to silver rods and alabaster columns; and there were couches of gold and silver on a pavement of marble, alabaster, mother-ofpearl, and mosaics” (vv. 5–6). As Laniak points out, this description appears with no predicate to the sentence. The text does not read, “In the court of the garden of the king’s palace there were hangings of white . . .” or “The king showed all the people hangings of white . . .” or any similar formulation. 17 The reader is meant to understand that the opulence depicted here describes the garden of the palace at the time of the feast, but this understanding rests on the context rather than the syntactical presentation. As Driver puts it, “These words hang in the air.” 18 I believe that this clumsy style is deliberate. As some commentators have pointed out, it contributes to the sense of wonder and astonishment, as though the description ends with an exclamation point. 19 At the same time, more than it conveys the admiration of the guests, the verse reflects the cynicism of the author. The way in which it is written hints to the reader that the opulence of the various materials decorating the garden of the palace is, in fact, the whole point: the king’s self-worth is the entire purpose of the feast. The guests stand open-mouthed in wonder at the display of wealth; the author needs to do nothing more than list, in great detail, the materials that adorned the pillars and from which the couches were note that, specifically with regard to Solomon, the narrator recounts: “Solomon sat upon the throne of David his father; and his kingdom [malkūtô—spelled defectively] was established firmly” (1 Kgs 2:12). 16.  See also Esth. Rab. 2:8. Aside from this, the description of the drinking vessels at the feast, which were made of gold (1:7), may also allude to Solomon’s kingdom, described in similar language (1 Kgs 10:21; see Esth. Rab. 2:11; b. Meg. 11b). 17.  Laniak, Shame, 47. The jps 1985 version, like most others, inserts the missing predicate. 18.  G. R. Driver, “Problems and Solutions,” VT 4 (1954) 235. 19. H. Striedl,”Untersuchung zur Syntax und Stilistik des hebräischen Buches Esther,” ZAW 55 (1937) 86; W. Dommershausen, Die Estherrolle: Stil und Ziel einer alttestamentlicher Schrifl (SBM 6; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1968) 22.

44

Chapter 2

fashioned. There is no need for any further explanation. This is Ahasuerus’s exhibitionism at its best. 5. We may also cautiously wonder whether the texture of the words chosen to describe the feast hints at another narrative that the reader is asked to recall as background to this scene. I refer specifically to the order in which the narrator presents the age range of the invitees: “both great and small.” The Bible usually formulates this phrase in the reverse order, “both small and great.” 20 Another place where “great” precedes “small” is in the description of Nineveh’s repentance in Jonah: The people of Nineveh believed God. They proclaimed a fast, and great and small alike put on sackcloth. When the news reached the king of Nineveh, he rose from his throne, took off his robe, put on sackcloth, and sat in ashes. And he had the word cried through Nineveh: “By decree of the king and his nobles: No man or beast—of flock or herd—shall taste anything! They shall not graze, and they shall not drink water! ( Jonah 3:5–7)

At first glance, the two narratives share a commonality, if not directly in intentional literary style, at least in the general behavior of the two kings: in both cases, the king is directly involved, and the narrator describes his position vis-à-vis his subjects and his special instructions to them. 21 However, a vast difference separates the instructions of the Persian king from the orders given by the king of Nineveh: the king of Nineveh “rose from his throne, took off his robe,” and asked his subjects to hold a fast, even that “they not drink water.” Ahasuerus, in contrast, “sat upon his royal throne” (v. 2) 22 and held an enormous banquet: “And the drinking was by law, none compelled” (v. 8). Both narratives contain a “dialogue” with the world of fabric and clothing but in striking contrast to one another: the king of Nineveh foregoes his royal garments, while the Persian king prides himself on his garb and the materials that adorn the court of the garden of his royal palace. 20. Out of 16 appearances of this expression, “small” precedes “great” in 12: Gen 19:11; 1 Sam 5:9; 30:2, 19; 2 Kgs 25:26; Jer 6:13; 8:10; 31:33; 42:1, 8; 44:12; 2 Chr 15:13. One of the places where the order is reversed is at the end of our chapter (“all wives will treat their husbands with respect, high and low alike” [Esth 1:20]). As to the other three instances, see below. The jps 1985 version variously translates ‘great and small’ or ‘high and low’. See also P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 (1907–8) 104. Avi Hurvitz argues that the inversion of the order in this expression testifies to a later writing (“Diachronic Chiasm in Biblical Hebrew,” in The Bible and the History of Israel (ed. B. Oppenheimer; Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University Press, 1972) 251–53. 21.  Berg argues for a thematic connection between the two narratives: “the fact that the Book of Jonah concerns a Jew in a foreign land again suggests a variation of a common type of post-exilic tale” (Berg, Esther, 148). 22. The jps 1985 version (also the nab) renders ‘occupied’ the royal throne. The Hebrew verb ‫ כשבת‬literally describes the act of sitting (as in the kjv and jps 1917: “when the king Ahasuerus sat on the throne of his kingdom”).

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti

45

It is possible, of course, that the contrast reflects differences in the respective plots: the king of Nineveh reacts to Jonah’s prophecy of the imminent destruction of the city, while Ahasuerus receives no such message. However, it is precisely for this reason that the reader wonders why the author chose to evoke the image of Nineveh’s repentance in this scene of joy and feasting. It forces us to wonder whether the alluded contrast is meant to criticize Ahasuerus’s feasting and excessive exhibitionism, as though the author whispers quietly that Ahasuerus would do well to hearken to the same prophecy that reached the ears of the king of Nineveh: “Another forty days and Shushan shall be overturned.” Beneath the surface, then, there is scorn for this magnanimous king who invites all the inhabitants of Shushan in order to show off his opulence, in contrast to King Solomon with his “discerning heart” and in contrast to the king of Nineveh, who proclaims a fast for all of his subjects so that they will mend their ways.

“In Addition, Queen Vashti Gave a Banquet for Women” (1:9–12) The second part of the description of the feast focuses on Vashti, and this, in fact, is the dominant element of the overall plot: the process by which Vashti is removed from the palace, paving the way for Esther. 23 Why does Vashti hold a separate feast for the women? We might suggest that in Ahasuerus’s kingdom special care is taken in matters of modesty, but a simpler explanation for this phenomenon lies in the licentiousness that characterized Persian banquets. It was specifically because of the presence of the many concubines who were regularly invited to the king’s feasts that Ahasuerus decided to invite his male guests to revel in the rampant sexual immorality and to join this event without their wives. This would allow for an uninhibited orgy, free of the critical eye of the spouses. The background to this separation between men and women at Persian parties may be deduced from a work by the Greek historian Plutarch (ca. 100 b.c.e.), “Advice to Bride and Groom.” Among other things, he writes: The lawful wives of the kings of Persia sit by their side at the meal and eat with them. But when the kings want to make merry and to become drunk, they send their wives outside and invite the dancing girls and the concubines. They act properly in this regard, since they do not allow their lawful wives to take any part in their licentiousness and debauchery. 24

23.  Moore’s title for this entire chapter is “Queen Vashti Is Deposed” (Moore, Esther, 1). 24.  Moralia 140 B 16, quoted by A. Berlin, Esther (jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001) 11. This interpretation is hinted at in the Babylonian Talmud. The statement, “Both had sinful intentions” is immediately followed by a popular idiom indicating the lust-driven agreement between husbands and wives at that feast: “People said: He with large gourds, and she with small ones” (b. Meg. 12a–b).

46

Chapter 2

This information is of great importance for understanding Vashti’s refusal to present herself. The king sends his seven chamberlains to call for Vashti “on the seventh day, when the king was merry with wine” (v. 10). Since the feast lasted only seven days, Ahasuerus summoned her on the final day. The fact that this important event, which leads to the next stage of the plot, takes place at the last minute serves to create the sense that “coincidentally,” at the very last minute, Vashti is removed, and the way is paved for Esther. Interestingly, the king sends for his wife through the agency of his seven chamberlains, suggesting the sort of official atmosphere appropriate to state procedure. 25 The tension between the presentation of Ahasuerus and Vashti as couple and the presentation of the dialogue between them as an impersonal state matter reaches its climax in the next scene, where the king consults with his advisers. To the reader’s surprise, Vashti refuses to appear at the men’s feast to show off her beauty. It is especially surprising since, considering the way in which the king is presented at the beginning of the narrative, it is logical to assume that this king will not take kindly to his wife’s refusal. In his drunken state, he will certainly not demonstrate patience when his wife’s refusal is made public—in the presence of “all the officials and courtiers,” and “for all the people who lived in the fortress Shushan, high and low alike”! Why, then, does Vashti refuse? 26 This question clearly perplexed the ancient rabbis, who explained Vashti’s behavior by positing that she suddenly broke out in leprosy or sprouted a tail. 27 In fact, the simplest understanding of Vashti’s refusal relates to what we noted above concerning the licentiousness that characterized feasts of this sort. Ahasuerus wanted to bring Vashti before the drunken men at the feast (“when the king was merry with wine!”—1:10) to show them all her beauty. It is reasonable to assume that Vashti was well aware that “showing her beauty” would not be the end of the matter. The rabbinic teaching, mentioned in ancient translations of Esther, that Ahasuerus wanted Vashti to be brought naked touches profoundly on the atmosphere that pervaded these feasts. 28 25.  Fox, Character, 20. 26. Ruth Walfish raises an interesting suggestion: “Vashti understood that such an order could only be issued in a drunken state; perhaps she believed that after the king sobered up he would understand the tastelessness of his command, or forget about it altogether” (R. Walfish, “The Role of the Secondary Characters in the Book of Esther,” in Hadassa Hi Esther [ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997] 141 [Heb.]). 27.  B. Meg. 12b. A different view describes Vashti’s refusal as arising from the personal honor that she sought to maintain. For instance, “She sent to him [saying]: O foolish one, you have lost your mind in your drunkenness. Know that I am the granddaughter of Nebuchadnezzar, before whom kings and rulers bowed down” (Midr. Abba Gurion, 1). 28. C. F. Keil, Biblical Commentary: The Book of Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther (trans. S. Taylor; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1873); E. Bertheau, Die Bücher Ezra, Nechemia und Ester (Kurzgefasstes exegetisches Handbuch zum Alten Testament 17; Leipzig: Hirzel, 1887); in

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti

47

Table 2.1.  Comparison of Vashti and Joseph Vashti

Joseph

“for she was a beautiful woman” (Esth 1:11) and therefore the king sought to present her.

“Joseph was well built and handsome” (Gen 39:6) and therefore Potiphar’s wife sought to seduce him.

“Queen Vashti refused (‫”)ו ְַּת ָמאֵן‬ (Esth 1:12) and therefore, she was banished from the palace.

“But he refused (‫( ”) ַו ְי ָמאֵן‬Gen 39:8) and therefore, he was banished from Potiphar’s house.

In light of this discussion, it seems that Vashti acted wisely. As Goitein puts it: “We all feel that Vashti is right in not prostituting herself before the drunks on the seventh day of the feast, when the wine has aroused them powerfully.” 29 Indeed, comparing Vashti’s refusal to Joseph’s refusal of Potiphar’s wife’s proposition hints at the author’s approval of Vashti’s judgment (see table 2.1). Since the story of Esther makes several allusions to the story of Joseph in Egypt, it makes sense to posit that here also the narrator is deploying a single reference to help shape our moral judgment of the characters. 30 Just as the reader clearly understands that Potiphar’s wife’s proposition was sexual, so also Ahasuerus’s command implies lascivious connotations. Similarly, just as the reader clearly considers Joseph’s refusal to have been a worthy decision (even though it resulted in his imprisonment), so also, hints the author, we should view Vashti’s refusal in a positive light, even though she suffers the consequences. 31 Thus, even as the narrator follows the king’s reaction and perspective, identifying, as it were, with the terrible affront to the king when Vashti refuses to fulfill her husband’s wishes, he actually hints to the reader that contrast to L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 150. Compare the story recounted by Plutarch (Artaxerxes 26.2) concerning a concubine named Aspasia who refused to take part in the king’s wanton recreation (ibid.); E. Bickerman, Four Strange Books of the Bible (New York: Schocken, 1967) 185ff.; Berlin, Esther, 12. 29.  S. D. Goitein, Studies in the Bible (Tel Aviv: Yavne, 1957) 61. Elias Bickerman wrote: “By coming to the king’s party, Vashti would lose face, she would degrade herself to the position of a concubine” (Four Strange Books of the Bible, 186). 30.  See M. Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985) 445–75. 31. R. Aḥituv points to a difference between the two narratives: “Joseph was rewarded with kingship by virtue of his refusal, while Vashti lost her status as a result of the same act” (“The Book of Vashti,” Beit Mikra 44 [1999] 254). However, Joseph, practically speaking, also lost his status in Potiphar’s household because of his “refusal,” just as Vashti did. It was only later that he emerged from jail and reached his elevated position.

48

Chapter 2

here Vashti earns his respect and not the protagonist of the narrative, the king. 32

The King’s Judgment: Responsible or Ridiculous Rule? (1:13–22) Ahasuerus’s rage at the refusal of his wife, the queen, to appear when commanded to is understandable. Less apparent is why the king invited the ministers of the kingdom to advise him about responding to Queen Vashti. Presumably, domestic tensions ought to be sorted out privately. Even if an individual wishes to share his predicament with his close friends, he does not summon an urgent meeting of government ministers! Furthermore, this group of legislators close to the king double as astrologers: “Then the king consulted the sages learned in procedure–for it was the royal practice to turn to all who were versed in law and precedent” (1:13). 33 The modern reader is liable to experience some confusion. Did the king gather the “wise men who knew the times” (i.e., astrologers), as the first part of the verse suggests, or did he assemble “all that knew law and judgment” (i.e., legislators and legal experts), as the latter part implies? In the Persian kingdom, the law was intricately linked to astrology and magic; 34 thus, there is no tension between these roles. I shall return to this theme in my discussion of the lot (pur) cast by Haman, which gives the Festival of Purim its name. At this point, we may conclude that the group summoned by the king is accustomed to participating in state discussions, and it is reasonable to presume that the king would consult the group before waging war or imposing a new tax—in order to ratify the new law. 35 However, on this occasion the king gathers them in anger: “The king was greatly incensed, and his fury burned within him” (1:12). This is most surprising: What exactly does the king expect of his ministers? How are they meant to solve the marital problems between the king and his wife? 36 32. Compare Stanton: “Vashti had exercised heroic courage in asserting womanly dignity and the inherent human right never recognized by kingship, to choose whether to please and to obey the king” (E. C. Stanton and L. B. Chandler, “The Book of Esther,” in The Woman’s Bible (ed. E. C. Stanton; Seattle: Coalition Task Force on Women and Religion / Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1975) 92. 33.  Fox maintains a different view: “Those who know the ‘time’ are probably allaround experts rather than astrologers” (Fox, Character, 21); compare with A. Hakham, Esther (Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974) 8. 34.  Compare: H. Bardtke, Das Buch Esther (KAT; Gütersloh: Mohn, 1963) 287; D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story ( JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 280; G. Gerleman, Esther (BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973) 64; Bush, Ruth, Esther, 350 (“The context prohibits taking the phrase to mean the court astrologers”). 35.  See A. T. Olmstead, History of the Persian Empire (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1948) 200–201; 447–48. 36.  “The response to Vashti’s refusal . . . is presented as at once both dead serious and comically overblown” (T. K. Beal, Esther [Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN:  Liturgical Press, 1999] 11).

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti

49

The irony is especially striking in light of the attention paid to the names of the ministers and to their official positions—all of which seems unnecessarily detailed. The entire passage highlights the pomp and circumstance of this consultation. First, there is a prelude to direct speech: “Then the king consulted the sages learned in procedure”—at which point, the reader expects to hear what the king said. Instead, there follows a lengthy description of the status of these wise men, along with their names: “His closest advisers were Carshena, Shethar, Admatha, Tarshish, Meres, Marsena, and Memucan, the seven ministers of Persia and Media who had access to the royal presence and occupied the first place in the kingdom” (v.  14). The reader can almost imagine the trumpets blaring as these ministers enter: “The listing of the names of the seven princes and their respected titles expresses the great importance that the king and his ministers attached to this matter.” 37 However, the reader once again asks himself (as the ministers probably did as well) why the king urgently summoned them? With obvious cynicism, the narrative formulates the point of the gathering in the following way: “What shall be done, according to law, to Queen Vashti for failing to obey the command of King Ahasuerus conveyed by the eunuchs?” (1:15). The addendum, “by the eunuchs” at the end of the sentence appears to be meant as a mockery of the king, who urgently gathers all of his ministers but who has not spoken to his wife; he invites all the legislators of the kingdom for a consultation but fails to ask his wife to explain her refusal. 38 The ministers find themselves in a most difficult quandary. On one hand, they cannot do what they probably want most to do in this situation: to gently bring the king to his senses, encourage him to “drink some coffee,” and wait for him to become more lucid. Any minister daring to offer such a proposal will obviously be regarded as showing contempt for the crown. On the other hand, it is difficult to think of any law that may be legislated to solve the king’s problem with his wife. Law, by nature, must pertain to the general sphere of the entire kingdom, whereas the issue at hand relates exclusively to the royal couple. Moreover, the ministers must bear in mind that the king will eventually sober up, and then they will need to account for the special law that they passed! Memucan, as soon becomes apparent, is the most brilliant of the ministers; his response demonstrates how he resolved the ministers’ quandary: Thereupon Memucan declared in the presence of the king and the ministers: “Queen Vashti has committed an offense not only against Your Majesty but also against all the officials and against all the peoples in all the provinces of King Ahasuerus. For the queen’s behavior will make all 37.  Hakham, Esther, 9. 38.  “To hide his inadequacy to handle this situation, the king invokes standard court procedure” (Bush, Esther, 355).

50

Chapter 2 wives despise their husbands, as they reflect that King Ahasuerus himself ordered Queen Vashti to be brought before him, but she would not come. This very day the ladies of Persia and Media, who have heard of the queen’s behavior, will cite it to all Your Majesty’s officials, and there will be no end of scorn and provocation! If it please Your Majesty, let a royal edict be issued by you, and let it be written into the laws of Persia and Media, so that it cannot be abrogated, that Vashti shall never enter the presence of King Ahasuerus. And let Your Majesty bestow her royal state upon another who is more worthy than she. Then will the judgment executed by Your Majesty resound throughout your realm, vast though it is; and all wives will treat their husbands with respect, high and low alike.” (1:16–20)

Memucan begins with the central idea that he will develop in the course of his monologue: “Queen Vashti has committed an offense not only against Your Majesty.” This idea is emphasized through the use of the word ‘all’ (‫)כל‬, which is repeated over and over, a total of seven times, in his speech (making it the Leitwort). This word sums up the point that Memucan is making: the problem is not the king’s personal problem but, rather, an issue that affects ALL of the kingdom and ALL of the couples living within it. 39 We can almost hear Memucan telling the king (if only through hints): How fortunate that Your Majesty the king has invited your important ministers. Indeed, a general problem confronts us, and it must be addressed by means of a general, well-thought-out law. The issue at stake is not, as some people might think, a private problem between the king and his wife. No! The entire kingdom faces a problem; every couple now confronts inestimable strife.

The sophisticated reader imagines Memucan winking at the other ministers as he holds forth. This is hinted at in the introduction to his words: “Memucan answered before the king and the princes.” They also breathlessly await the solution to this dilemma that has been foisted on them. Memucan supplies the goods by pretending to side with the king but exaggerating his attitude even more. 40 The king is happy with Memucan’s suggestion, as are the other ministers: “The proposal was approved by the king and the ministers, and the king did as Memucan proposed” (1:21—we may assume that the king was happy with the “good advice” that he had received, while the ministers were glad that Memucan’s quick thinking had saved them from their predicament). Immediately, the king puts the advice into practice: “Dispatches were sent to all the provinces of the king, to every province in its own script and to every nation in its own language, that every man should wield 39.  As noted by Dommershausen, Estherrolle. 40.  As Amos Hakham concludes: “For this reason Memucan compounds and amplifies Vashti’s crime in the king’s eyes, turning the insignificant matter of a dispute at a drunken feast into a matter concerning all the citizens of the kingdom” (Hakham, Esther, 11).

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti

51

authority in his home and speak the language of his own people” (1:22). We can imagine the reaction of the Persians as they gathered in the town squares to hear the new law that had just been promulgated, and their surprise at hearing that, from this point on, if a husband asked his wife for a cup of coffee it was forbidden for her to refuse. 41 In Gaster’s words: The diplomatic phraseology is here reproduced with delightful humor, and one can readily imagine that when our story was told and retold in the harems of Persia, this little detail must have roused a particularly uproarious laugh. 42

The concluding phrase of the new law resists attempts to decipher it. The disdain that the narrative conveys toward the king is hinted at by the frequent use of the term ‘the king’s word’ (‫)דבר מלכות‬. The special significance that the narrator of Esther assigned to this word stands out in light of the ever-changing context in which it appears and in light of the fact that “the word”—that is, the command—is issued from varying sources throughout the text. In the beginning, of course, it is the king from whose lips comes the ‘royal command’ (‫ ;)דבר המלך‬however, even at the first appearance of this expression, the reader hears of the violation of the king’s own command. “But Queen Vashti refused to come at the king’s command conveyed by the eunuchs” (1:12). To his dismay, the king gathers his advisers, and here again the narrator uses the term ‫דבר המלך‬: “Then the king consulted the sages learned in procedure—for it was the royal practice (‫ )דבר המלך‬to turn to all who were versed in law and precedent” (1:13). The representative of the wise men who responded to the king’s frustration was Memucan, and now we are surprised to discover that Memucan’s response to the king incorporates “the king’s word” as well; however, it seems that here he uses the term to draw attention to a new factor in the lawmaking process of the kingdom: “For the queen’s behavior (‫)דבר המלכה‬ will make all wives despise their husbands” (1:17). After ‘the king’s word’ is mentioned twice, the reader encounters ‘the queen’s word’. When the queen refused to do the king’s bidding, it was as though she was issuing her own command: ‫דבר המלכה‬. We could translate 41.  The rabbis hint at this in the following midrash: “‘He sent letters to all of the king’s provinces’—Rav Huna taught: Ahasuerus had a corrupt mind. According to the way of the world, if a man wants to eat lentils but his wife wants to eat peas, can he force her? No! She does what she wants. Rav Pinchas taught: As a result of this, he became the object of scorn” (Esth. Rab. 4:12). Attention should be paid to the fact that there is no mention whatsoever of Vashti in the text of the law; this is hinted at in Memucan’s original advice: “Then will the judgment executed by Your Majesty resound THROUGHOUT your realm. . . . ALL the wives will treat their husbands with respect, high and low alike”(1:20). The banishing of Vashti is “written into the laws of Persia and Media,” but “the judgment executed by Your Majesty” publicly speaks of all wives and their husbands. 42.  T. H. Gaster, Myth, Legend, and Custom in the Old Testament (New York: Harper and Row, 1969) 836.

52

Chapter 2

the term ‫ דבר המלכה‬in this verse as ‘what happened with the queen’ rather than as a command; however, Memucan immediately returns to this phrase, and there is a sense that this royal edict is gaining power. “This very day the ladies of Persia and Media, who have heard of the queen’s behavior (‫)דבר המלכה‬, will cite it to all Your Majesty’s officials, and there will be no end of scorn and provocation!” (1:18) 43 Memucan returns to the phrase ‘the queen’s word’, and the grammatical format of the sentence gives the impression that the queen’s word is directed at all the king’s ministers (even though the literal understanding of the verse is that the ladies-in-waiting should pass on the queen’s message to the ministers). 44 In any case, the repetition of the same term in relation to Vashti implies that Vashti is issuing some sort of command to all women that they should not heed their husbands’ word. Memucan closes his remarks with an additional use of the key word (Lietwort) and begs to restore the king his due honor as the lawmaker, though he chooses his words delicately. “If it please Your Majesty, let a royal edict (‫ )דבר מלכות‬be issued by you” (1:19). Memucan does not return to the full expression “the king’s word”; however, in essence he is hinting at it in the expression ‫יצא דבר מלכות‬. He must restore the esteem, so to speak, of “the king’s word,” and so the king must issue a ‫ דבר מלכות‬that will reinstate the proper deference due to his position and the position of all the men in the kingdom. If our examination of the Lietwort were to conclude here, its central purpose would be rhetorical: how Memucan managed to convince the king that Vashti’s refusal would kindle great danger at his doorstep, in violation of his “king’s word.” However, with biting sarcasm, this word is once again integrated into the concluding verse of the scene: “The proposal was approved by the king and the ministers, and the king did as Memucan proposed” (‫כדבר ממוכן‬, 1:21). Without the king’s realizing it, a new lawmaker has been introduced to the kingdom: the adviser has become the lawmaker! Let us return to the letters that were dispatched. What does “speaking the language of his people” (v. 22) have to do with the law in question? 45 Some scholars have proposed that this expression repeats the description of the letters’ dispatch, reemphasizing that each household was notified of the new law in its native language. 46 Others explain that the law man43.  The syntax of this verse is difficult because the object of the verb ‘they will say’ appears to be missing. Some have suggested reading ‫‘ תמרינה‬they will rebel’ instead of ‫תאמרנה‬ ‘they will say’ (for example, Paton, Esther, 159), which is the translation that the nab uses. See also Moore, Esther, ad loc. 44. See also R. Gordis’s suggestion that the verse intends to say that the “queen’s word” was spoken in the presence of all the ministers (“Studies in the Esther Narrative,” JBL 95 [1976] 46). 45.  Indeed, the LXX omits this phrase, and Haupt adopts this version (Haupt, “Critical Notes,” 113. 46.  Thus, for example: Berlin, Esther, 20–21.

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti

53

dated that, if the husband and wife did not speak the same language, the husband was entitled (perhaps even obligated) to force his wife to speak his language. 47 Regardless, the motif of language comes to the fore in the very first chapter; this motif will achieve its full significance later (8:9), when we shall use the occasion to discuss it. We cannot put aside the image of the king’s ministers gathered around him without noting that the scene is repeated in identical form in two other places in the narrative: the plan to select a new queen and the demise of Haman. Let us compare the three situations: Banishment of Vashti (1:12–21) I. “The king was greatly incensed, and his fury burned within him” II. “Memucan declared in the presence of the king . . .” III. “The proposal was approved by the king and the ministers, and the king did as Memucan proposed” Plan to Select a New Queen (2:1–4) I. “When the anger of King Ahasuerus subsided . . .” II. “The king’s servants who attended him said . . .” III. “The proposal pleased the king, and he acted upon it” Demise of Haman (7:7–10) I. “The king, in his fury, left the wine feast” II. “Then Harbonah, one of the eunuchs in attendance on the king, said . . .” III. “‘Hang him on it!’ the king ordered, . . . and the king’s fury abated”

The most interesting aspect of this parallel is, of course, the second element in each situation: the “adviser du jour” who steps forward and offers suggestions to the infuriated king. Note that in each situation the adviser bursts on the scene almost out of nowhere and then immediately returns to obscurity. Memucan henceforth disappears and is not mentioned again; the “king’s servants that ministered unto him” are altogether marginal figures who, quite unexpectedly, are invited to advance the plot; and Harbonah, while having appeared at the beginning of the story (as one of the chamberlains who went to summon Vashti), is otherwise insignificant. 48 Yet, to our surprise, at these major junctures in the narrative (the banishing of the queen from the palace, the selection of a new queen, and the hanging of the most senior adviser in the kingdom), these unknown personalities influence the decisions of the king who, we are told, falls prey to his “fury” and seeks some calm. 47.  Rashi (on Esth 1:22) offers this explanation. See also, for example: Gordis, “Studies,” 53; Fox, Character, 23. 48.  I shall look at Harbonah in more detail later on, when I analyze the hanging of Haman (chap. 7).

54

Chapter 2

This template exposes Ahasuerus’s kingdom in all of its fickleness. Who makes the important decisions? Who imposes order in the kingdom? The reader who experiences the king’s momentary caprices and the resulting changes in the imperial hierarchy becomes aware of one of the narrator’s most important plot-advancing devices; he also cannot help but sense the narrator’s biting regard for the norms and procedures of Ahasuerus’s rule and (as I shall propose later on) for the institution of royalty altogether. Here also we discern the disparity between the revealed and concealed levels. On the revealed level, the king is described as someone who consults his ministers before legislating a new law. Even for the purpose of deciding “what shall be done to Queen Vashti” he appeals to the appropriate hierarchy, and the law passes through the accepted channels. At the same time, on the concealed level, the reader senses the cynicism that pervades this scene. Contrary to the impression that the literal text conveys, if a full legal process is required for the king to decide what to do with his wife, then the entire legal system and the legislative procedure are being presented with a healthy dose of derision. 49 Clines summarizes the point well: The tone of Ch. 1 is satirical—of that there can be no doubt. The point at which it ends, with royal letters being sent to all the royal provinces . . . giving command that every man should be master in his own house, is the point of unmistakable glee at the Persian foolishness to which the whole chapter has been moving.” 50

To conclude this discussion of Memucan’s advice, I must mention two other biblical sources that maintain a literary connection with this unit and deepen the hidden reading of this scene. One source is from further on in the book of Esther; the other is from Samuel. The language used to describe the dispatch of the king’s letters is repeated later on, in the description of the dispatch of letters by Haman: Letters sent in the wake of Memucan’s advice (1:22) Dispatches were sent to all the provinces of the king, to every province in its own script and to every nation in its own language, that every man should wield authority in his home Haman’s letters (3:12–13) [W]ritten instructions were dispatched by couriers to all the king’s  provinces 49.  Similarly: T. H. Gaster, “Esther 1:22,” JBL 69 (1950) 381. 50.  Clines, Esther Scroll, 31–32. See also Fox (Character, 24), who notes that every man in the kingdom is being asked to do that which the king himself is not capable of: to rule in his own house! (Similar: S. Goldman, “Narrative and Ethical Ironies in Esther,” JSOT 47 [1990] 16–17.)

The Feast of Ahasuerus and the Feast of Vashti

55

(to every province in its own script and to every people in its own language) to destroy, massacre, and exterminate all the Jews

It may be that the parallel is not intended but instead reflects a formal style of writing expressing the establishment of a new law and its dissemination throughout the Persian kingdom. However, the possibility certainly exists that the narrator wants the reader to place the two dispatches side by side so that the scorn that he feels after reading the king’s decree that every man should rule his own home will be projected onto Haman’s decree, in which all of the Gentiles are given license to prevail over all of the Jews. 51 This connection hints at a deep connection being made by the narrative, in which there are two population groups that may be referred to as “other” or “foreign”: women and Jews. In keeping with the style of this narrative, in which the plain text is simply a covering for the hidden reading, these letters betray a concealed reality. At the beginning of the story, it seems that in Ahasuerus’s kingdom, husbands control their wives and wives must “give their husbands honor”—just as at the beginning, it seems that the enemies of the Jews control the Jews. However, just as at the end, “the opposite happened, and the Jews got their enemies in their power” (9:1), so also it turns out that women (or at least Esther, the wife of the king) set the tone of this narrative and are the major driving force behind the plot and the salvation of the Jews. 52 Timothy Beal devotes his study to the connection between these two population groups. As he writes in the introduction to his book: There are many convergences between projections of the other woman and the other Jew, as well as between the two subjects who project these two others and mark them for oblivion as such. 53

In this sense, the issue of the status of the women is raised and treated as one of the themes of the narrative. It must be emphasized that one does not need to adopt a feminist reading in order to raise this issue in the book of Esther. The king’s first set of letters accomplish this, forcing the reader to note the matter of the relationship between a woman and her husband as a theme. One fact that also contributes to the irony of this episode is that at least one man does not obey this law: the king himself, who is led by his 51.  Esth 8:9–10, which also contains all of these elements, has literary value in the linkage it provides between the different decrees. See below, pp. 183–184. 52. Further on (pp.  91–92), we shall note a deeper structure that is shared between Vashti (who disobeys the king’s order and refuses to present herself) and Mordecai (who disobeys the king’s order and refuses to prostrate himself before Haman). This also serves to reinforce the position of the “women” in Esther as being parallel to the position of the “Jews.” The representatives of both of these sectors do not accept the royal laws’ application to themselves and are depicted as “other” in the Persian kingdom. 53.  T. K. Beal, The Book of Hiding: Gender, Ethnicity, Annihilation and Esther (London: Routledge, 1997) 13. In connection with the satirical tone of Esther 1, see pp. 49–54.

56

Chapter 2

wife, Queen Esther, to where she wants him to be—even if she does so in the guise of a wife “giving honor” to her husband. The second biblical source to which the narrative points us is the transfer of the kingdom from Saul to David. When the reader considers Memucan’s suggestion, “let Your Majesty bestow her royal state upon another who is more worthy than she” (1:19), Samuel’s words to Saul, following the latter’s sin in the war against Amalek, are evoked: “The Lord has this day torn the kingship over Israel away from you and has given it to another who is worthier than you” (1 Sam 15:28). 54 What is the significance of the parallel between stripping Vashti of her royal position and stripping Saul of his kingdom? It seems that by means of this allusion the reader may discern a way in which Saul’s sin will be rectified. He lost his kingdom because he did not wage war against Amalek and Agag in the proper manner. In our story, Esther regains Saul’s lost royalty in order to complete his victory; she will bring down “Haman, the Agagite.” While the plain reading mires the reader in the personal fights between the Persian king and his wife within the palace at Shushan, the “hidden reading” carries him back through ancient Israelite history, hinting to him that the Esther narrative should also be interpreted as a broad historical reaction to the failures of the first Israelite king. 54.  Compare with Hakham, Esther, 10; W. McKane, “A Note on Esther IX and I Samuel XV,” JTS 12 (1961) 260–61; Berg, Esther, 67 (and p. 86 n. 37). This allusion is unmistakable, and the midrash makes note of it: “With the same language used to strip her ancestor of his kingship—as Samuel said to him, ‘And has given it to your fellow who is better than you’—with that same language the kingship was restored to him. As it is written, ‘[The king] shall give her royal estate to another, who is better than her’” (Esth. Rab. 4:9).

Chapter 3

Esther Is Taken to the King (Esther 2) The Treatment of Women (2:1–20) Esther 2 opens with the king sobering up: “Some time afterward, when the anger of King Ahasuerus subsided, he thought of Vashti and what she had done and what had been decreed against her” (2:1). Not coincidentally, the narrator emphasizes the king’s remembering both “Vashti and what she had done” and “what had been decreed against her,” for there is a disturbing lack of proportion between what she did (a personal conflict between the royal couple) and what was decreed in light of this episode (a whole new law for the kingdom). Midrash Abba Gurion expresses this well: When he sobered up from his wine, he asked for her [Vashti]. They told him: You put her to death. He asked them: Why? They answered: You told her to come before you naked, and she did not. He said to them: I acted badly; but who advised me to put her to death? They said to him: The seven princes of Persia and Media. Immediately he had them put to death, and it is for this reason that they are not mentioned again. (Mid­r. Abba Gurion, parasha 2)

The king’s attendants suggest the selection of a new queen. As I pointed out previously, just as the banishing of Vashti from the palace resulted from the advice of the king’s counselors, so too the plan for the election of a new queen is developed by the counselors, and the king merely accedes to their advice. Note that the attendants do not stop with a general proposal, such as “Let beautiful young virgins be sought out for Your Majesty” (2:2), but go so far as to set out the entire selection process in great detail: “Let Your Majesty appoint officers in every province of your realm to assemble all the beautiful young virgins at the fortress Shushan, in the harem under the supervision of Hege, the king’s eunuch, guardian of the women. Let them be provided with their cosmetics” (2:3). The fact that the attendants must delineate the procedure for choosing a new queen—noting even the identity of the chamberlain who will be responsible for them and distribute perfumes to them—cannot but cause the reader to smile: apparently, the king cannot determine even the technical details of the process; even these must be stipulated by his attendants. In the scene of the selection of the new queen, we discern with particular clarity the discrepancy between the overt praise and the covert

57

58

Chapter 3

criticism. The narrator’s portrayal of women is a key issue in the narrative. As noted, because the king has issued a decree (at Memucan’s suggestion) to the effect that every woman must perform her husband’s wishes, the narrator has already drawn the reader’s attention to the relations between men and women. The attitude of the Persian royalty toward women is a central motif in chap. 2. The plain reading of the text gives the sense that the author aggrandizes Ahasuerus as ruler of the entire kingdom and provides the young women of the kingdom with every sort of benefit. This impression is first created by the attendants’ suggestion that the king should appoint officers “in every province of your realm” and that they should bring to the royal palace “all the beautiful young virgins.” In the ancient world, kings prided themselves on the size of their harems. Here, Ahasuerus demonstrates his power and prowess by gathering a great many women. Actually, the gathering of the women reflects not only the king’s power but also, as noted, his generosity: the king showers all the young women brought to the palace with perfumes and ointments. Just as we are told in the description of the first feast that the king commanded his servants “to comply with each man’s wishes,” so, too, now “whatever she asked for would be given her to take with her from the harem to the king’s palace” (2:13). And just as every man was free at the first feast to choose which wine he wanted to drink, so now the assortment of women’s ointments are offered to each woman. This is intended to give honor to the king since, owing to his impressive greatness, the girls are required to perfume themselves for a lengthy period; but at the same time, the author seems to be creating a warm atmosphere of admiration for the king, at least with regard to his extreme generosity. On the other hand, a reader who is open to the hidden reading will sense the biting criticism that pervades the entire chapter. The author’s criticism of the way in which the new queen is chosen hints, as in so many other instances throughout the narrative, by means of allusion, at a different narrative describing a search for a companion for the king. The attendants’ suggestion reminds the reader of a similar piece of advice offered by the servants of King David, in his old age: “His courtiers said to him, ‘Let a young virgin be sought for my lord the king, to wait upon Your Majesty and be his attendant; and let her lie in your bosom, and my lord the king will be warm’” (1 Kgs 1:2). There too, the attendants propose that a virgin be selected to come to the palace; there too, the king agrees and his emissaries pass “throughout the borders of the kingdom,” seeking a “beautiful girl” (1 Kgs 1:3). 1 1.  A. B. Ehrlich, Mikra ke-Peshuto (Berlin: Papaloier, 1900) 2.262; H. Bardtke, Das Buch Esther (KAT; Gütersloh: Mohn, 1963) 295; S. Zalevsky, Solomon’s Ascension to the Throne: Studies in the Books of Kings and Chronicles ( Jerusalem: Marcus, 1981) 40–44; A. Frisch,

Esther Is Taken to the King

59

While the two episodes share some similarities, the reader must pay attention to the fundamental difference between the two images. Since Ahasuerus seeks a maiden, the king’s officers go off to gather “all the beautiful young virgins at the fortress Shushan, in the harem” (Esth 2:3); out of this group, the king will choose whoever he fancies (after spending the night with each of them). In contrast, the proposal of David’s servants is that the king’s emissaries should go all about the country seeking a fair maiden; the one whom they deem suitable shall be brought to the king’s palace. This difference is not trivial—especially from the perspective of the women themselves. The women who spend the night in the palace but ultimately are not chosen as queen may not return to their families or marry another man. After each has had her liaison with the king, she “leaves in the morning for a second harem” (2:14), where she must live as one of the king’s concubines. The personal tragedy of each of them is obvious: each woman can only live in hope that one day the king will remember her and call upon her again for another one-time encounter (“She would not go again to the king unless the king wanted her, when she would be summoned by name,” 2:14). 2 The association with the alternative scene, the finding of a companion for David, invites criticism of Ahasuerus and his treatment of women. As the story of David demonstrates, the process could have been undertaken in a different way. 3 The narrator also conveys discomfort at the plight of these women by making a single reference to Joseph’s proposal to Pharaoh for handling the years of famine. Comparisons between the two narratives are so numerous that they force the reader to consider the significance of the connection between them in general. 4 At the same time, each separate allusion also offers its own contribution. Thus, with regard to our present discussion, the author seems to censure the king by echoing the language that Joseph uses in presenting his proposal to Pharaoh: Joseph’s proposal (Gen 41:34–37)   Let Pharaoh take steps to appoint officers over the land “Esther vs. Kings,” Mechkarei Chag 3 (1992) 27–28; J. Levenson, Esther (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997) 54. 2.  The term ‘wanted’ (‫ )חפץ‬is mentioned several times in the book of Esther in connection with the scene of the horse; there, the person whom the king ‘desires’ to honor is placed on the horse, and they ‘call’ (‫ )ויקראו‬out before him, “This is what is done for the man . . . ,” etc. Here, too, if the king ‘desires’ a certain person, he ‘calls’ (‫ )ונקראה‬her by name. In both instances, the perspective is that of the king, and therefore the reader is easily lulled into believing that the king’s desire is something of real importance and value. However, in both cases, the narrator hints that it would be better for the person concerned if the king did not ‘desire’ him or her, as we shall see in our discussion of Esther 6. 3.  Another difference between the two is that, even after the right woman is found, about David we are told: “The king was not intimate with her” (1 Kgs 1:4). 4.  We shall devote a separate discussion to this topic (see below, pp. 210–213).

60

Chapter 3   Let all the food of these good years that are coming be gathered . . . under Pharaoh’s hand as food to be kept in the cities   The plan pleased Pharaoh Proposal of Ahasuerus’s attendants (2:2–4)   Let Your Majesty appoint officers in every province off your realm under the hand of Hege, the king’s eunuch, keeper of the women   The proposal pleased the king 5

The perspective offered in this comparison gives readers the sense that the king treats the maidens like grain that must be gathered. The “gathering” of the women from every place to the palace, where they are “kept” in the hand of Hegai, indeed arouses an image of collecting objects or storing food for times of need. Moreover, just as the purpose of the reservoir of food is to serve as a “reserve for the land” (Gen 41:36), so the reader imagines that the king collects a great number of women to ensure that he never “goes hungry.” 6 We have not yet exhausted the veiled criticism of the king. It reaches its climax in a further allusion, integrated into the description of the gathering of the women. All those who are brought to the royal palace are required to prepare for their encounter with the king for an entire year: “six months with oil of myrrh and six months with perfumes and women’s cosmetics” (2:12). The unbroken nonchalance of the text mitigates the shock value of this bit of information: the girls sat in a fragrant bath and applied perfumes and cosmetics for an entire year. More accurately, after six months in a bath of myrrh oil, the candidate switched to the application of fragrances and cosmetics.  7 As in a caricature, where the artist exaggerates the size of some part of the subject’s body in order to emphasize it, the narrative extends the period of perfuming to a full year to highlight the lack of proportion inherent in the situation and evoke smiling derision. In order to spend a night with the king, these Persian virgins must spend an entire year of their lives soaking up fragrance and applying ointments. The intent here may be to testify to the megalomania of Ahasuerus and of Persian royalty in general; 8 in any event, it certainly bespeaks a perverted view of women. 5. I have modified some words from the jps 1985 translation in both quotations in order to highlight the similarity of the Hebrew terms employed. 6.  See on this topic and on the narrator’s scorn for the reign of Ahasuerus: D. Henshke, “Esther: A Literary Costume,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 93–106 [Heb.]. 7.  The Peshitta has “twelve days” instead of “twelve months,” although as F. W. Bush has already noted, it is safe to assume that this was an intentional change on the part of the translator, who felt uncomfortable by the extended length of the girls’ preparations and shortened it to twelve days (Ruth, Esther [WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998] at Esth 2:12). 8.  In comparison, we may refer once again to David. Preparations for an encounter with him consist of one thing only: “Pretend you are in mourning; put on mourning clothes and don’t anoint yourself with oil; and act like a woman who has grieved a long

Esther Is Taken to the King

61

The disdain toward the king in this scene expresses itself in the chronology of the events. Esth 2:12 opens, “When each girl’s turn came to go to King Ahasuerus,” the beginning of a sentence, the direct continuation of which appears in v. 13: “whatever she asked for would be given her to take with her from the harem to the king’s palace.” However, between the portrayal of each girl’s turn to enter the king’s court and up through the description of the events occurring at the same time, there is a lengthy depiction of the girls’ preparations before their entrance into the king’s court in v. 12. 9 This writing style complicates the simple reading of the story, though the literary effect created by this complication is great. This insertion aids in contrasting the framework of the narrator’s words (each maiden, when her turn came to enter the king’s court, would receive whatever her heart desired) with the description that disrupts the framework (each maiden was obligated to prepare herself for a full year, to prepare her body for the king). It is important to remember that this description through the girls’ preparation is presented as the king’s ordinance: “treatment prescribed (‫ )כדת‬for women.” The relationship between the two sentences, of course, stirs up scorn toward the king: outwardly, he appears exceedingly genial, because he allows the girls to choose the manner in which they beautify themselves; however, in reality, this freedom is bound to a full year during which the king’s command obligates specific preparation.  10 In the description of the Persian girls’ exaggerated preparations, we discover an additional allusion to the Joseph narrative. When we read in 2:12, “When each girl’s turn came to go to King Ahasuerus at the end of the twelve months’ treatment prescribed for women (for that was the period spent on beautifying them [‫ִמ ְלאּו ְימֵי‬ ְ ‫)]ּכי ּכֵן י‬,” ִ we are once again reminded of the story of Joseph—specifically, the way that the Egyptian physicians treated Jacob’s corpse: “Then Joseph ordered the physicians in his service to embalm his father, and the physicians embalmed Israel. It required forty days, for such is the full period of embalming (‫ִמ ְלאּו ְימֵי‬ ְ ‫)ּכי ּכֵן י‬. ִ The Egyptians bewailed him seventy days” (Gen 50:2–3). The expression “‫ִמ ְלאּו ְימֵי‬ ְ ‫”ּכי ּכֵן י‬ ִ appears nowhere else in the Bible. Clearly, this allusion is intentional, especially given the similar context and content: the end of a specific period

time over a departed one” (2 Sam 14:2). See A. Bazak, “And if I Perish, I Perish,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 33–46. [Heb.] 9.  The narrator’s intrusion into the story is especially pronounced if we adopt Paton’s and Moore’s view that in the beginning of v. 13 the narrator is compelled to repeat the fundamental concept from the beginning of v. 12, given the lengthy parenthetical anecdote delivered to the reader that interrupts the simple flow of the sentence (C. A. Moore, Esther [AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971] 23; L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther [ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908] 181). 10.  The relationship between the king’s ordinance and the disdained freedom echoes the king’s first feast on some level (8:1).

62

Chapter 3

(“twelve months”; “forty days”), set down by standard custom, during which a human body is treated with various ointments. The point of this allusion thus becomes quite clear. By comparing the virgins of Persia and their makeup to embalmed corpses, the author directs sharp criticism at Ahasuerus and his attitude toward women, suggesting that he treats them as bodies, and nothing more. The chapter’s structure and design imply a number of readings hidden beneath the surface. It seems that the narrative unit about the search for a new queen has a unified literary structure, through which many of the chapter’s fundamental issues become clear. The literary outline is unambiguous: it begins with the king’s servants offering to find Vashti’s replacement, and we expect it to conclude with the dramatic news: “and he made her queen instead of Vashti” (2:17). As we will soon see, this is only the apparent conclusion. In actuality, the narrator continues, surprising his readers with an additional scene. The chapter can be divided into two parallel halves (see table 3.1, p. 63). 11 Each half opens with a description of Shushan’s maidens, not mentioning Esther at all. In the first half, the king’s young servants (‫ )נערים‬propose gathering young girls (‫)נערות‬, and letting them “be provided with cosmetics” (in Sternberg’s terms, this is a ‘member of forecast’), whereas the parallel segment describes the idea in action— the gathering of the girls and a detailed description of the “period spent on beautifying them” (the “member of enactment” in Sternberg’s terms). 12 After describing all of the girls, the narrator shifts to a discussion of Esther and her special relationship to Mordecai. This is appropriate in the first half, the exposition of the characters. The repetition of this information in the description of Esther’s turn, in the parallel segment of the second half, surprises the reader: “When the turn came for Esther daughter of Abihail—the uncle of Mordecai, who had adopted her as his own daughter . . .” (2:15). The expression “who had adopted her as his own daughter,” repeated in both stages of the plot, especially emphasizes the relationship between Esther and her cousin. The next stage, in both halves, describes the taking of Esther. In the first half, “Esther too was taken into the king’s palace under the supervision of Hegai, guardian of the women” (v. 8), and in the second half, Esther comes even nearer the king: “Esther was taken to King Ahasuerus, in his royal palace” (v. 16). The reactions of the men whom Esther encounters in the narrative—Hegai and Ahasuerus—are similar: Esther wins the favor of each. Note the development hinted at here: in the first half, Esther “won 11. Compare the division proposed by Bush that, while differing from the division presented above, does note some of the important connections within the various sections in the chapter (Bush, Esther, 360). 12.  See the chapter entitled “The Structure of Repetition” in M. Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985), especially pp. 375–87.

63

Esther Is Taken to the King

Table 3.1.  Two Halves of Esther 2 2:1–11

2:12–20

Some time afterward, when the anger of King Ahasuerus subsided, he thought of Vashti and what she had done and what had been decreed against her. The king’s servants who attended him said, “Let beautiful young virgins be sought out for Your Majesty. Let Your Majesty appoint officers in every province of your realm to assemble all the beautiful young virgins at the fortress Shushan, in the harem under the supervision of Hege, the king’s eunuch, guardian of the women. Let them be provided with their cosmetics. And let the maiden who pleases Your Majesty be queen instead of Vashti.” The proposal pleased the king, and he acted upon it. (1–4)

When each girl’s turn came to go to King Ahasuerus at the end of the twelve months’ treatment prescribed for women (for that was the period spent on beautifying them: six months with oil of myrrh and six months with perfumes and women’s cosmetics, and it was after that that the girl would go to the king), whatever she asked for would be given her to take with her from the harem to the king’s palace. She would go in the evening and leave in the morning for a second harem in charge of Shaashgaz, the king’s eunuch, guardian of the concubines. She would not go again to the king unless the king wanted her, when she would be summoned by name. (12–14)

In the fortress Shushan lived a Jew by the name of Mordecai, son of Jair son of Shimei son of Kish, a Benjaminite, who had been exiled from Jerusalem in the group that was carried into exile along with King Jeconiah of Judah, which had been driven into exile by King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon. He was foster father to Hadassah—that is, Esther—his uncle’s daughter, for she had neither father nor mother. The maiden was shapely and beautiful; and when her father and mother died, Mordecai adopted her as his own daughter. (5–7)

When the turn came for Esther daughter of Abihail—the uncle of Mordecai, who had adopted her as his own daughter—to go to the king, she did not ask for anything but what Hegai, the king’s eunuch, guardian of the women, advised. Yet Esther won the admiration of all who saw her. (15)

When the king’s order and edict was proclaimed, and when many girls were assembled in the fortress Shushan under the supervision of Hegai, Esther too was taken into the king’s palace under the supervision of Hegai, guardian of the women. (8)

Esther was taken to King Ahasuerus, in his royal palace, in the tenth month, which is the month of Tebeth, in the seventh year of his reign (16)

The girl pleased him and won his favor, and he hastened to furnish her with her cosmetics and her rations, as well as with the seven maids who were

The king loved Esther more than all the other women, and she won his grace and favor more than all the virgins. So he set a royal diadem on her

64

Chapter 3

her due from the king’s palace; and he treated her and her maids with special kindness in the harem. (9)

head and made her queen instead of Vashti. The king gave a great banquet for all his officials and courtiers, “the banquet of Esther.” He proclaimed a remission of taxes for the provinces and distributed gifts as befits a king. (17–18)

Esther did not reveal her people or her kindred, for Mordecai had told her not to reveal it. Every single day Mordecai would walk about in front of the court of the harem, to learn how Esther was faring and what was happening to her. (10–11)

When the virgins were assembled a second time, Mordecai sat in the palace gate. But Esther still did not reveal her kindred or her people, as Mordecai had instructed her; for Esther obeyed Mordecai’s bidding, as she had done when she was under his tutelage (19–20).

the favor” of Hegai, whereas in the second half, she “won the grace and favor” of the king. The addition of “grace” to “favor” broadens the expression and connotes a positive development with regard to the men in the Esther narrative. However, the king “loves” Esther; the narrator uses a verb that conveys particularly strong emotion. 13 The big surprise of this scene arises at the end of each half, with the repetition of the description of Esther’s relationship to Mordecai. In the first half, Esther refuses to divulge her nationality because of Mordecai’s demands, and even in the second half, after Esther’s election as queen, Esther continues obeying Mordecai. Here, the narrator emphasizes their connection in an obvious manner: “as she had done when she was under his tutelage.” The literary structure of this presentation intimates at several messages hidden under the formal narrative surface. First, note how the beginning of each half parallels its continuation, in other words, how deeply Esther differs from all of the other charming would-be queens. The narrator devotes much detail to the numerous ways in which the girls could “doll themselves up.” This detailed description focuses on the number of months they would anoint themselves with the various oils, spells out the proposal of the king’s youthful servants, and, in general, runs counter to the style of the Bible. It seems that Esther’s author wishes to introduce his readers to the Persian milieu. In this culture, the amount of powder that each girl applied to her face and the length of time she spent soaking in a bath of myrrh oil were among the bases of its kingdom. In other words, by emphasizing this perspective of the Persian superpower, the narrator passes 13. Regarding the principle that some verbs leave a stronger emotional impression than others leave, see the classic study of C. E. Osgood, W. H. May, and M. S. Miron, CrossCultural Universals of Affective Meaning (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1975).

Esther Is Taken to the King

65

judgment on it and subjects it to chuckles and amusement. 14 Either way, whereas the other women took advantage of the full range of possibilities at their disposal, Esther, the narrator reports, asked for nothing. The disparity between the portrait of “each girl’s turn” (2:12) and Esther’s turn (v. 13) expresses the fundamental conflict between the worlds and values of the respective characters.  15 Esther’s passivity contrasts with her sudden and overwhelming success. The portrait of her success gains additional importance in light of the narrative structure: at first, Esther finds favor in Hegai’s eyes (v.  9). 16 This expression represents a continuation of the servants’ proposal at the beginning of the chapter—“And let the maiden who is pleasing in Your Majesty’s eyes be queen instead of Vashti” (v.  4). Not coincidentally, the young servants based the decision on “the king’s eyes” because, as we know from later in the chapter, the candidate’s beauty will determine the king’s decision and Hegai’s treatment of her. Even in v. 15, the narrator develops the events involving Esther by saying: “Esther won favor in the eyes of all who saw her.” Yet in the component that parallels Hegai’s attitude toward Esther, a new verb becomes integrated, quite surprising in the Shushanite context: “The king loved Esther more than all the other women” (v. 17). In light of the narrative’s portrait of the king, his sudden captivation by one of the women surprises the reader and, it seems, wins a point in Esther’s favor. Her modesty and refusal to go overboard with makeup and ointments (v. 15) turned the king’s attention toward her personality and not just her outward beauty. Esther, it stands to reason, can cause even the orgiastic, womanizing king of Persia to “get in touch with his emotions” and fall in love. Make no mistake: the narrator reports unequivocally that Esther was quite a beauty (“the maiden was shapely and beautiful,” v. 7). Nevertheless, other factors catapulted her to victory in the contest for the king’s heart. The unit’s structure and verbal texture also allude to Esther’s personal tragedy. In the revealed reading, the girl ultimately chosen to be queen in Shushan ought to be quite thrilled. It is a sort of Cinderella story in which a simple girl suddenly enters the royal palace. 17 Nevertheless, Esther’s 14.  Similarly, Y. Shapira, A Postmodernist Reading of the Biblical Book of Esther: From Cultural Disintegration to Carnivalesque Text (Ph.D. diss., State University of New York, 1996) 260. 15. This integrally relates to the question of whether Esther actually wanted to be chosen by the king or whether in her heart of hearts she would prefer to be rejected. I shall address this question when I discuss Esther’s refusal to reveal her ethnicity (below, pp. 73–75). 16. The jps 1985 version (like many other) does not literally translate ‫ ;בעיניו‬instead, it renders the idiom ‘the girl pleased him’. The bolded terms throughout the passage represent variations of the same Hebrew root and generally do not appear in jps 1985. 17.  “Like Cinderella; the king offers this beloved queen up to half his kingdom” (Edward L. Greenstein, “A Jewish Reading of Esther,” in Judaic Perspectives on Ancient Israel [ed. J. Neusner, B. A. Levine, and E. S. Frerichs; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987] 228).

66

Chapter 3

narrator hints at emotional events of a different character lurking beneath the surface. The narrator mentions Mordecai twice, thereby forming a sort of literary inclusio for the story of Esther in the royal courtyard: Mordecai is mentioned at the beginning and end of the description of Esther in each half. Note the verb that the narrator selects in each of these descriptions: ‫“( לקח‬Mordecai adopted her [‫ ]לקחה‬as his own daughter”; “who had adopted her [‫ ]לקח‬as his own daughter”). This verb is soon repeated in the context of Esther’s arrival at the palace: “Esther too was taken (‫ )ותלקח‬into the king’s palace”; “Esther was taken (‫ )ותלקח‬to King Ahasuerus.” 18 Employment of the same verb points the reader’s attention to the hidden tension between these two “takings” and to the personal tragedy that Esther undergoes when taken to the palace. The verb ‫ לקח‬is used with more than one meaning in Hebrew, as in English. Sometimes it expresses, as Ben-Yehuda defines it: “The grasping of an object into one’s hand; manual removal from an initial location into one’s possession for a period of time.” 19 However, in other cases it means: “married a woman; betrothed her to be his wife.” 20 In our case, both meanings fit the general context: Ahasuerus ‘took’ Esther to his palace, an act that results in his ‘taking’ her for a wife. The verses oppose this ‘taking’ with Mordecai’s prior ‘taking’ of Esther. The Septuagint interprets Mordecai’s act as ‘taking’ in marriage, an idea echoed in rabbinic literature as well, when they reread the word ‫‘( לבת‬as a daughter’) as ‫‘( לבית‬as a home’). 21 A simple reading of the narrative shows that this interpretation is untenable. After all, the king gathered only young virgins. Nevertheless, it remains plausible that the direction indicated by the Septuagint could be drawing support from period customs. In the ancient world, if an older man adopted a young girl, they would customarily marry 18.  As often happens, some of the commentators translate idiomatically rather than literally, which would convey this play on words more obviously. Thus, for example, in Moore’s translation: “Mordecai adopted her. . . . Esther was also taken to the palace” (Moore, Esther, 16). We also find the opposite: translations in which the literal sense of the first verb is preserved, but the second is changed. The classic King James version proposes: “Whom Mordecai, when her father and mother were dead, took for his own daughter. . . . Esther was brought also unto the king’s house.” 19. E. Ben-Yehuda, Dictionary of the Hebrew Language ( Jerusalem: Yosluf, 1960) 2729 [Heb.]. 20. Ibid., 2730. See also: W. Plautz, “Die Form der Eheschließung im Alten Testament,” ZAW 76 (1964) 311; BDB, 544; H. Seebass, “‫לקח‬,” TDOT 8.16–21; H. H. Schmid, “‫לקח‬,” TLOT 2.648–51; M. Z. Kaddari, A Dictionary of Biblical Hebrew (Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University, 2006) 567–68 [Heb.]. 21.  B. Meg. 13a: “It was taught in the name of R. Meir: Do not read it as ‫לבת‬, rather as ‫לבית‬.” The Septuagint reads ‘who had taken her as a wife’ (someone has suggested that the Hebrew text upon which the Septuagint was based actually read ‫לבית‬, as the R. Meir proposed, which the translators therefore translated using an expression that connotes marriage (P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 [1907–8] 116). See also B. D. Walfish, “Kosher Adultery? The Mordecai-Esther-Ahasuerus Triangle in Talmudic, Medieval and Sixteenth-Century Exegesis,” in The Book of Esther in Modern Research (ed. S. W. Crawford and L. J. Greenspoon; JSOTSup 380; London: T. & T. Clark, 2003) 111–36.

Esther Is Taken to the King

67

when she came of age. Thus, for example, Nahor adopts his orphaned niece Milkah by marrying her, and in the metaphoric narrative of Ezekiel 16, a man adopts an abandoned young girl and eventually marries her.  22 Therefore, it is plausible that, when the verse states that “Mordecai adopted her (lĕqāḥâ) as his own daughter,” it carries the connotation that he intended to marry her when the time came. In any case, by employing a single verb at strategic locations, the narrator highlights the emotional and cultural rupture that Esther experiences when “taken” from Mordecai’s home to the king’s palace and the tension of her mental outlook as she made the transition into this new world. Esther’s personal tragedy stands out in the comparison between this scene and similar scenes in Genesis. We have mentioned that there are those who see the taking of Esther to the king’s palace as a model of the Cinderella story, with its happy ending: the wretched young girl becomes a princess in the king’s palace. However, in light of what we have mentioned above, it is appropriate to compare Esther’s story with Sarah’s tragic kidnapping to Pharaoh’s palace (Genesis 12). The likeness between the two stories is apparent (see table 3.2). Discussion of the similarities between the two stories reveals the important differences between them, such as God’s involvement in the story of Abraham, and his absence in Esther; Abram and Sarai’s return to the land of Canaan at the conclusion of their story (Gen 13:3) and Mordecai and Esther’s stay in the exile, among other examples. In the context of our present discussion, I would like to emphasize the tone of the taking of Esther to the king’s palace in light of this comparison. Just as it would be difficult to present the story of Abram and Sarai as a successful Cinderella story, so Esther’s being taken to the king’s palace is more heartbreaking than happy. In essence, a comparison of the two stories shows the tragedy of Esther’s situation even more: after God protects Sarai, she leaves unhurt and returns to Abram’s arms; Esther remains in the Persian king’s palace for the rest of her life.

Presentation of Mordecai and Esther Aside from the issue of women and their status, there are other aspects of chap. 2 that warrant discussion. First among them is the presentation of the story’s two main characters: Mordecai and Esther. Introductory Verses Following the suggestion by Ahasuerus’s attendants to choose a new queen, the narrative introduces Mordecai and Esther through a retrospective 22.  On this issue, see also M. Malul, Society, Law, and Custom in the Land of Israel in Biblical Times and in the Ancient Near Eastern Culture (Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University, 2006) 70–87. Though clearly not every adoption led to marriage, the fact that the phenomenon existed allows for a reading in which Esther is destined to marry Mordecai (though not one in which Esther and Mordecai were already married, as posited by the LXX and R. Meir).

68

Chapter 3

Table 3.2.  Comparison of Esther 2 and Genesis 12

Family relations between husband and wife

A family exiled from its land

Description of the woman as beautiful

The king’s servants encourage him to take a wife Man’s request of the woman not to reveal her identity or connection to him Taking of the woman to the king’s palace The king bestows wealth on the man who dissociates himself from the woman At the end of the story, the king engages in dialogue with the man The king discovers the hidden connection between the man and the woman

Taking of Esther to Ahasuerus’s Palace (Esther 2) He was foster father to Hadassah—that is, Esther— his uncle’s daughter . . . and when her father and mother died, Mordecai adopted her as his own daughter (2:7) Who had been exiled from Jerusalem in the group that was carried into exile along with King Jeconiah of Judah (2:6) The maiden was shapely and beautiful (‫יפת תאר וטובת‬ ‫ ;)מראה‬and when her father and mother died, Mordecai adopted her as his own daughter (2:7) The king’s servants who attended him said, “Let beautiful young virgins be sought out for Your Majesty” (2:2) Esther did not reveal her people or her kindred, for Mordecai had told her not to reveal it (2:10)

Taking of Sarah to Phar­aoh’s Palace (Genesis 12) Abram and Nahor took to themselves wives, the name of Abram’s wife being Sarai (11:29)

Esther too was taken into the king’s palace (2:8)

the woman was taken into Pharaoh’s palace (12:15)

Mordecai left the king’s presence in royal robes of blue and white, with a magnificent crown of gold and a mantle of fine linen and purple wool (8:15) Mordecai presented himself to the king (8:1)

And because of her, it went well with Abram; he acquired sheep, oxen, asses, male and female slaves, sheasses, and camels (12:16)

for Esther had revealed (‫ )הגידה‬how he was related to her (8:1)

Why did you not tell me (‫ )הגדת לי‬that she was your wife? (12:18)

Abram went down to Egypt to sojourn there (12:10)

I know what a beautiful (‫ )יפת מראה‬woman you are (12:11)

Pharaoh’s courtiers saw her and praised her to Pharaoh (12:15)

Please say that you are my sister (12:13)

Pharaoh sent for Abram and said . . . (12:18)

Esther Is Taken to the King

69

exposition, beginning with the exile of the Kingdom of Judah and culminating in the adoption of Esther by Mordecai (2:5–7). The Jewish subdivision of the text places the beginning of a new chapter here; indeed, there are many instances in which a new element commences with the introduction of new characters. 23 At the same time, the presentation of Mordecai and Esther immediately following the news that the king seeks a new wife foretells that Mordecai and Esther represent the solution that the king seeks. Although the exposition dissipates some of the drama surrounding the selection of the new queen, it frees the reader to focus on the manner in which the king chooses Esther. 24 This presentation seems to narrow the narrator’s focus and convey his message (as, for example, in Esther’s choice not to use the wide range of cosmetics at her disposal). 25 In a statement concerning the molding of biblical narratives, the Mid­ rash notes this phenomenon of delayed exposition, listing another three narratives in which it appears: “And let the maiden who pleases Your Majesty . . .”—who would be worthy of this description? Mordecai: “In the fortress Shushan lived a Jew by the name of Mordecai.” Similarly, “God looked upon the Israelites, and God took notice of them” (Exod 2:25)—who would be worthy of this [delivering them]? Moses: “Moses, tending the flock of his father-in-law . . .”; likewise, “Samuel then said to the men of Israel: All of you go home” (1 Sam 8:22)—who would be worthy [of being king, as the people had requested]? Saul: as it is written, “There was a man of Benjamin, whose name was Kish”; and it is written, “When Saul and all of Israel heard the words of the Philistine, they were dismayed and terror-stricken” (1 Sam 17:11). Who would be worthy [of responding to his challenge]? David: “David was the son of a certain Ephrathite.” (Esth. Rab. 5:4) 26

By bringing these four narratives together—the elections of Moses, Saul, David, and Mordecai—the Midrash illuminates a literary phenomenon that relates to the essence of these narratives; none of these characters is introduced in a vacuum. Prior to the character’s introduction, the narrative 23.  Nevertheless, it is reasonable to think that this division is motivated by more than mere literary considerations; it appears also to be related to the centrality of Mordecai and the honor that the editors wish to award him. 24.  Compare: G. Genette, Narrative Discourse (trans. J. E. Lewin; Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1980) 105; S. Rimmon-Kenan, Narrative Fiction: Contemporary Poetics (London: Methuen, 1983) 43–58. 25.  On the subject of delayed introduction of characters in the biblical narrative, see for example, S. Bar Efrat, The Artistic Structure of the Biblical Narrative (Tel Aviv: Poalim, 1980) 133–35; F. Polak, Biblical Narrative: Aspects of Art and Design (2nd ed.; Jerusalem: Bialik, 1999) 116. 26. Regarding the example of Saul’s first appearance after the nation’s request for a king mentioned by the midrash, see M. Sternberg, “Time and Space in Biblical (His)Story Telling: The Grand Chronology,” in The Book and the Text: The Bible and Literary Theory (ed. R. Schwartz; Cambridge: Blackwell, 1990) 86–87.

70

Chapter 3

generates some anticipation on the part of the reader, so that the character’s very appearance begins to resolve the reader’s anxiety, allowing him or her to turn his/her attention to the character’s actions and behavior, to observe how they meet the expectations. In addition to its literary observation per se, this midrash also views Mordecai as a member of the same class as Moses, Saul, and David. In fact, all four share a profound connection: each appears as a redeemer during a dramatic moment. Moses redeems the Israelites from Egypt; Saul redeems them from their oppressors, as they had requested—he will “go out at our head and fight our battles” (1 Sam 8:20); David saves Israel from Goliath, the Philistine; and Mordecai saves the Jews from Haman’s evil decree. These observations do not exhaust the connection between these narratives, and the midrash adds an important dimension to our understanding of Mordecai’s introduction. A cursory review of the other election narratives reveals a fundamental difference between Mordecai and the other saviors. Moses learns of his election at the burning bush, where God informs him: “I have marked well the plight of My people in Egypt and have heeded their outcry because of their taskmasters” (Exod 3:7). Samuel learned of Saul’s election by God even before Saul’s arrival in Zuph, when God informed him, “[A]t this time tomorrow I will send a man to you from the territory of Benjamin, and you shall anoint him ruler of My people Israel. He will deliver My people from the hands of the Philistines; for I have taken note of My people, their outcry has come to Me” (1 Sam 9:16); later, all Israel regards the choice of Saul as God’s will. David’s election by God eludes even the prophet’s notice (for “a man sees only what is visible, but the Lord sees into the heart”—1 Sam 16:7). God alone recognizes the one suited to the task: “[T]he Lord said: ‘Rise and anoint him, for this is the one” (1 Sam 16:12). Who chooses Mordecai and Esther, though? Who appointed them to the task of savior? There is no prophetic declaration nor any anointment ceremony. Moreover, the naked truth is that they are actually chosen by none other than Ahasuerus! In fact, the presentation of Mordecai and Esther’s having been chosen (implied by the delayed exposition) differs qualitatively from the other election scenes mentioned in the midrash. At this stage of the narrative, Mordecai and—more specifically—Esther, are set to “save” Ahasuerus from his loneliness; only later will it become clear that this private salvation paves the way for a broader, national salvation. By juxtaposing the delayed exposition of Mordecai with the delayed presentation of the other saviors, the midrash seems to be implying that they all belong to the same class, despite superficial differences. A man sees only what is visible, but God sees into the heart—even the heart of Ahasuerus—and influences it, as it is written, “Like channeled water is the mind of the king in the Lord’s hand; He directs it to whatever He wishes” (Prov 21:1). The midrash intimates

Esther Is Taken to the King

71

that the selection of Mordecai should also be viewed as a Divine choice; even if it came about through the whim of an orgiastic ruler, it nevertheless represents the realization of the Divine will. 27 As we shall have occasion to discuss below (see chap. 7 of this book), the relationship between human initiative and Divine decree runs through the entire book of Esther as one of its main themes. The above-mentioned midrash suggests that this theme already finds expression in the peculiar introduction to Mordecai and its affinity with the presentation of other saviors whose elections God ordained explicitly. 28 Let us review the presentation of Mordecai in these verses: In the fortress Shushan lived a Jew by the name of Mordecai, son of Jair son of Shimei son of Kish, a Benjaminite, who had been exiled from Jerusalem in the group that was carried into exile along with King Jeconiah of Judah, which had been driven into exile by King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon. He was foster father to Hadassah—that is, Esther—his uncle’s daughter, for she had neither father nor mother. The maiden was shapely and beautiful; and when her father and mother died, Mordecai adopted her as his own daughter. (2:5–7)

The narrator traces Mordecai’s genealogy three generations back: “son of Jair, the son of Shimei, the son of Kish.” This represents something of a deviation from the Bible’s normal presentation of characters—the name followed by a patronymic. In rare cases, when an expanded lineage contributes to the reader’s understanding of the character’s identity and significance, the biblical narrator invests in a few more layers of ancestry (as in Num 16:1). In presenting Mordecai, the narrator takes the trouble to enumerate three generations of ancestors, but the significance of Mordecai’s forebears remains elusive. Apparently, the intention here is to emphasize Mordecai’s Jewish lineage (his Jewish identity, ‫איש יהודי‬, is mentioned even prior to his name!), 29 his membership in the tribe of Benjamin (‫)ימיני‬, and 27.  This message is especially clear in light of other characters that the midrash could have mentioned in this literary context, such as Jephthah the Gileadite ( Judg 11:1); Absalom (2 Sam 14:25); and others. (These characters are in fact mentioned in a parallel midrash: Midr. Samuel 13.) The selective listing of Moses, Saul, and David appears to limit the discussion to saviors chosen by God. 28.  See also Exod. Rab. 2:4: “‘And Moses was (‫—’)היה‬Anyone of whom it is said that he ‘was,’ was destined to be that way: ‘Behold, man has become (‫—’)היה‬he was destined to be mortal. ‘And the snake was (‫ )היה‬cunning’—it was destined for trouble. Concerning Noah it is written that he ‘was (‫ )היה‬righteous’—he was destined for redemption. Concerning Joseph it is written, ‘Joseph was’ (‫—)היה‬he was destined to bring and ensure sustenance. Concerning Mordecai it is written: ‘There was (‫ )היה‬a Jewish man’—he was destined to save.” 29.  This title is mentioned in one other place in the Bible: Zech 8:23. The context in Zechariah may imply a subtle criticism of the Jews of Shushan. There, the prophet describes how members of the nations will grab at the garment of an ‫ איש יהודי‬and demand to go to Jerusalem with him. This contrasts starkly with the assimilated Jews of Shushan who chose to remain in exile when the Jerusalem Temple was rebuilt.

72

Chapter 3

his (indirect) link to King Saul (“son of Kish”). 30 We may reasonably expect that the narrative would mention it if Mordecai had been a direct descendant of Saul; apparently, then, he was a member of Saul’s family but not a direct descendant. 31 Thus, the expanded lineage serves to link Mordecai to Kish, the father of Saul, and assumes that this suffices to evoke a clear association with the first Israelite king. 32 In view of allusions to Saul’s reign that we have already encountered, hypothesizing that the text hints at Saul through Mordecai’s lineage seems quite reasonable. 33 The significance of this background becomes clear as Mordecai rises up to lead the Jews in the next battle in the war with their ancient enemy, Amalek. 34 The second verse of this analeptic exposition connects Mordecai with the exile of “King Jeconiah of Judah.” Ignoring the ambiguity regarding the antecedent of this verse and the resulting chronological implications, 35 we can see that from the literary perspective it serves to glorify his status, because the exiles who left Jerusalem with Jeconiah were of the uppermost stratum of society. Indeed, Josephus asserts that Mordecai was “among the 30. See Paton, Esther, 167–68; Moore, Esther, 19–20, 35; Bardtke, Esther, 299; A. Berlin, Esther (Mikra Le-Israel; Jerusalem: Magnes, 2001) 24–25 [Heb.]. 31.  Contrast with J. Liver, “Mordecai,” Encyclopaedia Biblica 5.449; and with Y. Amit, “The Saul Polemic in the Persian Period,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and M. Oeming; Winona Lake, IN.: Eisenbrauns, 2006) 653. 32.  There is no doubt that Shimei of the tribe of Benjamin is meant to remind the reader of Shimei son of Gera, another Benjaminite, who, in cursing King David, highlighted the tension between the reign of Saul (Benjamin) and that of David ( Judah; 1 Sam 16:5–8). Thus, the connection between the transition of the earlier kingdoms and the institution of the new “reign” of Mordecai is strengthened. 33. See, for example, pp. 82–83 below, and the discussion of Saul’s replacement beginning on p. 86 below. 34. A. Lacocque, “Haman in the Book of Esther,” HAR 11 (1987) 207–22. 35.  Was Mordecai exiled, or was Kish? If Mordecai were among those who had been exiled, he would now be 120 years old, and he could not have a cousin young enough to have been taken to the king as a young virgin. Some opinions have suggested that the narrator got his dates muddled and did not realize the improbability of this situation (Moore, Esther, 27; Michael V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther [2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001] 29); but, as Bush correctly argues: “It seems at least implausible that a narrator who shows himself at every level to be so fully cognizant of the setting and circumstances of the Persian world of his story would be unaware of the general chronology of the period” (Bush, Esther, 363). Others have proposed that the exile is mentioned not in relation to Mordecai but in relation to Kish (D. V. Edelman, “Kish,” ABD 4.86; E. Yamauchi, “The Archaeological Background of Esther,” BSac 137 [1980] 107; J. S. Wright, “The Historicity of the Book of Esther,” in New Perspectives on the Old Testament [ed. J. B. Payne; Waco, TX: Word, 1970] 38). Some have even proposed that the exile relates to the entire list as a single unit (G. Gerleman, Esther [BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973] 77; Bardtke, Esther, 299). For our discussion, my interest is in the literary significance, not the historicity of the issue; that is, what does the narrator gain by mentioning Mordecai’s genealogy, on the one hand, and the exile, on the other.

Esther Is Taken to the King

73

leaders of the Jews.” The term for ‘exile’ (‫ )גלה‬is mentioned no less than four times in the verse, leaving a powerful impression. 36 This information also influences our understanding of Esther as an exilic narrative, with its implications for the concealment of God’s presence behind events taking place in the paramount reality; the events only seem to result from local political maneuvering. Esther Did Not Tell, Did Not Ask Above, I noted the literary connection between the two descriptions of Esther in Esther 2: “Esther did not reveal her people or her kindred” (v. 10), and “Esther still did not reveal her kindred or her people” (v. 20). Many commentators grapple with this question: why did Esther conceal her national identity? The tension intensifies when one notes that Esther simply acted on Mordecai’s orders, while he himself did not conceal his Jewishness (“for he had explained to them that he was a Jew” [3:4]); indeed, Mordecai’s openness about his nationality sparked the genocidal scheme that constitutes the gist of Esther’s plot! Why, then, did he command Esther not to reveal her Jewish identity to those who might ask? Medieval commentators, whose bone of contention was whether Esther desired to be elected queen, manifested two basic approaches. 37 Rashi (on 2:10) explains why she did not tell: “So they would think she was of low birth and send her away, for if they knew that she was from the family of King Saul, they would have held onto her.” This assumes that Mordecai did not want Esther to become queen. In contrast, Ibn Ezra (2:9) cites two explanations that adopt a different assumption: Some say that Mordecai acted improperly in commanding Esther not to mention her people, for he feared that the king would not take her as a wife if he knew that she was from the exile. Others said: through prophecy or a dream, he knew that redemption would come through her to Israel.

According to both of these explanations, Mordecai wanted Esther to become queen. The concealment of Esther’s nationality was designed to facilitate her selection! The debate continues among contemporary scholars. 36.  Walfish comments most appropriately that, “Two characteristics of the exile arise from the verse: the lack of sovereignty (“with Jeconiah king of Judah”), and the departure from Jerusalem. These two elements, representing the social (lack of leadership) and geographical (distance from the homeland and its capital, distance from the site of the Temple) aspects of exile, serve as the basis for the degeneration of the nation in the first half of Esther and for the turnaround that takes place at its conclusion” (A. Walfish, “Words of Peace and Truth,” in Hadassa Hi Esther [ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997] 133). 37.  For an extended discussion of this issue, see A. Shama, “Why Did Esther Not Mention Her Nation or Her Descent,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 237–48.

74

Chapter 3

Moore, on the one hand, maintains that “Esther wanted to become queen”; Berlin, on the other hand, argues that “Esther was taken not of her own will, and even against her will.” 38 The former question might be resolved by looking at the description of the manner in which Esther was taken to the king. Not coincidentally, in both passages in which she is taken, the narrator adopts the passive case: “Esther too was taken into the king’s palace” (2:8); “Esther was taken to King Ahasuerus” (2:16). This language projects a sense of coercion: Esther is taken to the palace, as the midrash puts it, “against her will and not for her benefit” (Aggadat Esther 2). This receives further confirmation in light of the other circumstance in which Esther remains passive: Esther makes no attempt to anoint herself with ointments—precisely because she does not want to increase her chances of winning the competition for the heart (and eyes) of the king. Why, then, does Esther hide her ethnic identity? I believe that Bush’s suggestion is correct: the simplest explanation for Esther’s reluctance to reveal her ethnic identity relates to the basic experience of foreignness. The immediate inclination of any foreigner, especially a Jew among Jewhaters, is to hide his ethnicity. Mordecai, concerned for the welfare of his adopted daughter, demands that she not reveal her Jewishness, that she try to act like a local woman. 39 This provides some background for the ethnic struggle that will develop after the publication of Haman the Jew-hater’s decrees. Even after considering various proposed solutions to this question, 40 we see clearly that the narrator offers no clue why Esther concealed her ethnicity. The reader hears nothing from Mordecai or from the narrator; indeed, it seems that the concealment of her motive plays an important role in molding the reader’s experience of this scene. The fact that Esther’s identity remains hidden is important to the story from two different perspectives. First, it will play a role in the development of the plot, when it turns out that Haman and his advisers have no idea that Esther is Jewish. Second, Esther, in this sense, mirrors the situation of the Jewish people as a whole. 41 At the beginning of the story, they hide their Jewish identity, 38.  Moore, Esther, 27; Berlin, Esther, 83 [Heb.]. 39.  Bush, Esther, 368 (similarly Paton, Esther, 175). 40.  There are others whom I have not mentioned. For example, after the above citation, Ibn Ezra adopts yet a third explanation: “I believe that Mordecai did this so that Esther would observe God’s Torah in secret, not eating forbidden meat, and observing Shabbat, so that the royal servants would not notice it, for if it were known, the king might force her or put her to death, for she was held against her will” (Ibn Ezra on 2:9). See also Fox, Character, 32–33. 41.  Compare T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther (SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 62. Jon Levenson expresses this beautifully: “As they have lost their king and their land and taken up residence in a foreign country, so has she lost her father and her mother, become adopted by her cousin, and taken a foreign name” (Esther, 56).

Esther Is Taken to the King

75

participating in the feasts of the Persian king (“for all the people who lived in the fortress Shushan” [1:5]) and even going by Persian names (Mordecai, Esther). 42 During the course of the narrative, Esther reveals her Jewish identity as she stands before the king to plead for her people; the Jews also return to their identity when they decree a fast and afflict themselves. 43 In this sense, the narrative emphasizes the hiding of Esther’s Jewish identity but remains impartial to her motives; this concealment serves as the point of departure for a narrative in which the issue of Jewish identity in exile is a key theme. 44 In the wider context of our discussion, it should be noted that Esther, in this scene, also serves as a mirror image of the narrator himself. Just as Esther hides her identity, so also the narrator hides his theological world and its messages. The reader, encountering a key character who hides her identity, enters an atmosphere of secrecy. This, in turn, encourages the reader to pay attention to Jewish hints whispering beneath the surface of the text— even if they are garbed with the majestic cloak of the Persian palace.

“When the Virgins Were Assembled a Second Time” (2:19–20) At the end of Esther 2, the reader is surprised to find a description of the king once again gathering virgins to the palace, even though Esther has already been chosen: “When the virgins were assembled a second time, Mordecai sat in the palace gate. But Esther still did not reveal her kindred or her people, as Mordecai had instructed her; for Esther obeyed Mordecai’s bidding, as she had done when she was under his tutelage” (2:19–20). This second round of virgin-collecting provides much insight into the personality of Ahasuerus who, even after choosing Vashti’s replacement, continues to invite beautiful virgins to his palace. However, these verses, which conclude the scene of Esther’s selection, seem to be emphasizing the enduring 42.  This is especially striking in the case of Esther: the narrator takes the trouble to reveal her Hebrew name (Hadassah) as well but then, surprisingly enough, continues to refer to her throughout the rest of the story by her Persian name. It should be pointed out that these are not neutral Persian names but are connected to Babylonian and Persian idolatry (Marduk and Ishtar). This seems to add a satirical element to the narrative in that the Jewish heroes who fight the Gentile enemy possess blatantly Gentile names. See further on this issue: P. Jensen, “Elamitische Eigennamen: Ein Beitrag zur Erklärung der elamitischen Inschriften,” WZKM 6 (1892) 47–70, 209–26; J. Lewy, “The Feast of the 14th Day of Adar,” HUCA 14 (1939) 127–51; A. S. Yahuda, “The Meaning of the Name Esther,” JRAS (1946) 174–78. 43.  A lengthy discussion of this hinted-at process will be found in the discussion on Esther 4 and in a separate discussion on Esther 9, in which I examine the various stages of the festival’s institutionalization. 44. Compare Levenson (Esther, 56), who claims that the Israelites are a people with neither king nor land who have been forced to move to a foreign country. Similarly, Esther, who has neither father nor mother, has been granted refuge by her cousin and has taken a foreign name.

76

Chapter 3

relationship between Mordecai and Esther rather than the details of Ahasuerus’s lifestyle. One might expect the scene of Esther’s selection to conclude with Mordecai’s growing distant from Esther as she takes her place by her husband’s side. In these verses, however, the narrator tempers this impression in both directions; on the one hand, Ahasuerus neglects his new queen as he busies himself with other fair maidens who visit his room each night in turn. 45 At the same time, Mordecai sits at the king’s gate, staying close enough to hear about the goings-on within the palace. “Sitting in the palace gate” implies an institutionalized public role, 46 though Mordecai’s exact role is not revealed to the reader; apparently, his title is not important. The narrator chooses to emphasize that Mordecai’s presence at the gate allowed him to continue monitoring Esther, and indeed, “Esther obeyed Mordecai’s bidding, as she had done when she was under his tutelage.” Despite Ahasuerus, who took Esther from Mordecai, Esther continues to regard her adoptive father as the main authority in her life. Thus, the narrative creates distance between Ahasuerus and Esther, while reuniting those who had been separated. The Mordecai-Esther-Ahasuerus triangle rises to the surface again in the following verses, when Mordecai tells Esther about the attempt to assassinate the king. 47 45.  Therefore, the reader should not be surprised to discover, later on, that Esther has not been called to the king “for the last thirty days” (4:11). This in no way implies that the king has been exercising chastity and restraint. See also E. Grove, “Double Talk: Another Look at the Second Gathering of Virgins in Esther 2.19A,” in The Book of Esther in Modern Research (ed. S. W. Crawford and L. J. Greenspoon; JSOTSup 380; London: T. & T. Clark, 2003) 91–110. 46. R. Gordis, “Studies in the Esther Narrative,” JBL 95 (1976) 47–48. As Moore points out, Gordis’s view finds confirmation in the Septuagint, where for 2:19 the Greek has ‘who served in the king’s court’ (C. A. Moore, “Prolegomenon,” in Studies in the Book of Esther [ed. C. A. Moore; New York: Ktav, 1982] lxxxi n. 115. 47.  This lends some support to those who view this incident as the conclusion of the episode of Esther’s being taken to the king (Bardtke, Esther, 93–291; Fox, Character, 26, 36, 41) but also justifies those who regard it as the introduction to the next scene, where Mordecai informs on Bigthan and Teresh, who plan to assassinate the king (for instance, Bush, Esther, 370–74).

Chapter 4

The Attempted Rebellion against the King (Esther 2:21–23) In three brief verses, the narrator describes the conspiracy of two of the king’s chamberlains and its disclosure by Mordecai (2:21–23). In contrast to the style of the text thus far, characterized by flamboyant descriptions of the royal palace and its customs, the narrator records this event in terse form: At that time, when Mordecai was sitting in the palace gate, Bigthan and Teresh, two of the king’s eunuchs who guarded the threshold, became angry, and plotted to do away with King Ahasuerus. Mordecai learned of it and told it to Queen Esther, and Esther reported it to the king in Mordecai’s name. The matter was investigated and found to be so, and the two were hanged from gallows. This was recorded in the book of annals at the instance of the king.

The extreme brevity leaves us with several unanswered questions, regarding even the most basic level of understanding: 1. Why did Bigthan and Teresh want to assassinate Ahasuerus? Was this part of a broader attempt at rebellion? Were they perhaps agents meant to carry it out (since they were keepers of the door), 1 or was this a momentary caprice of the two chamberlains alone?

2. How did the matter become known to Mordecai? Was there an attempt to involve him in the rebellion? Did he hear of it coincidentally? 2 3. Why did Mordecai decide to save the king? Out of loyalty? Does he have hidden ulterior motives? 4. Why did Mordecai inform the king via Esther? Since the narrator has already noted that Mordecai “sat at the king’s gate,” the reader presumes that he had some official status in the royal court, granting 1.  On the interesting possibility that Bigthan and Teresh were the “guardians of the vessels” (in light of Exod 12:22), see H. Ben-Shammai, “What Were Bigthan and Teresh Guarding? An Interesting Exegetical Choice of Rashbam and His Grandfather,” in Mauria Libson Memorial Volume: Essays in Jewish Studies (ed. A. Maman and R. Bliboim; Jerusalem: Carmel, 2011) 176–85 [Heb.]. 2.  M. V. Fox notes that the expression “the matter became known to Mordecai” indicates that someone told him about the brewing rebellion (Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther [2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001] 39).

77

78

Chapter 4

him access to the king through formal channels; why, then, did he involve the queen? 3 5. Finally, how can the king neglect to reward Mordecai for saving his life? Although these questions pique our interest, the narrator leaves them unanswered. We can only conclude that this unit’s significance lies in what it leaves unsaid. The omitted information apparently plays no role in the plot development. The brevity of this episode leads us to conclude that its importance lies in the information it provides: Mordecai saved the king, and the events were recorded in the royal chronicles. As readers know, this fact assumes significance later in the narrative when the king decides to mete out rewards just as Haman arrives to request Mordecai’s execution. The fact that Mordecai channels his message through Esther magnifies Haman’s shock, since he and the rest of the royal court seem to have remained unaware of Mordecai’s heroics. The chapter’s terse concluding scene may allude to the narrative’s opening scene. There we read: “In those days, when King Ahasuerus occupied (‫ )כשבת‬the royal throne” (1:2), while here it states, “At that time, when Mordecai was sitting (‫ )יושב‬in the palace gate.” Corresponding to the anger mentioned there, “The king was greatly incensed (‫( ”)ויקצף‬1:12), here we read, “Bigthan and Teresh . . . became angry (‫)קצף‬.” There, a new law is propagated, “[L]et it be written into the laws of Persia and Media . . . that Vashti shall never enter the presence of King Ahasuerus” (1:19), and likewise here, “This was recorded in the book of annals at the instance of the king.” Just as an office-bearer in the Persian court lost her status (Vashti), so also here, two office-bearers lose their status (Bigthan and Teresh). In addition to these parallels, it is difficult not to notice the similarity between the names of the chamberlains mentioned in these two scenes. One of the chamberlains sent to bring Vashti was named “Bigtha” (1:10), while one of the officers that the king assembled in light of Vashti’s refusal to present herself was “Tarshish” (1:14). If this similarity is indeed intended, then we may posit that, just as the removal of Vashti paved the way for Esther’s highly honored position, so the removal of Bigthan and Teresh paves the way for Mordecai’s honored position. Stylistically, the brevity of the scene highlights its prominent use of passive verb forms: “it became known to Mordecai,” 4 “the matter was investi3. E. Bickerman, Four Strange Books of the Bible (New York: Schocken, 1967) 178. Theoretically, we can posit that Mordecai never intended for the information to reach the king. After all, the text specifies only that he passed it on to Esther. From the verses, we might conclude that it was Esther who decided to notify the king—but she did so “in Mordecai’s name.” But this reading seems unlikely, because Esther is presented (at this stage of the narrative) as passively obedient to Mordecai. 4. The jps 1985 version has “Mordecai learned of it,” a translation that obscures the passivity of ‫ויבקש‬.

The Attempted Rebellion against the King

79

gated and found to be so,” “were hanged,” and “was recorded.” This form of writing suits a scene in which the narrator wishes to skip details. He hints to the readers, as it were, that it does not matter who did what and why; only the final outcomes remain pertinent. At the same time, this sort of writing leaves a psychological impression with regard to the consciousness of the characters involved: to what extent do they understand the significance of their actions? After all, the most important result of the scene remains concealed from them, waiting to be dramatically revealed later. This scene gains interest against the background of the preceding scene. Just prior to the attempted rebellion, the narrative reports: “But Esther still did not reveal her kindred or her people, as Mordecai had instructed her; for Esther obeyed Mordecai’s bidding, as she had done when she was under his tutelage (2:20).” We have already noted the subtle dig at the king contained in this verse—Esther obeys Mordecai’s word, despite the king’s explicit law “that every man should wield authority in his home.” By describing Esther’s hidden relationship with Mordecai, the narrator creates a sense of secrecy, dual loyalties, tensions in the palace, and no small amount of animosity toward the home-wrecking king. Ironically, this same secret relationship, Esther’s illegal loyalty to Mordecai at her husband’s expense, saves the king from assassination! By juxtaposing these two scenes, the narrator raises one of the fundamental issues in the book of Esther—loyalty to the king and the manner in which it is measured and repaid. 5 This subject will continue to simmer beneath the surface throughout the narrative, at times bursting into the open (beginning in chap. 3, with Haman’s words to the king concerning the people that does not keep the king’s laws). The expression ‘scheming against’ (‫ )לשלוח יד‬refers the reader to a later scene, where the king tells Esther that Haman was hanged for “scheming against” the Jews: “I have given Haman’s property to Esther, and he has been hanged on the gallows for scheming against the Jews” (8:7). As the book starts drawing to a close, the full import of this fateful scene finally comes to light. It plays an obvious role in generating the king’s debt to Mordecai, the repayment of which forms the fulcrum of the reversal of Haman and Mordecai. Furthermore, we will discuss its role in establishing the gallows as the punishment for treason. However, this small scene (2:21–23) actually represents a microcosm of the narrative in its entirety. Every element of the scene finds its parallel over the course of the narrative: The intrigue begins with Mordecai sitting at the palace gate (3:2). •  Mordecai became involved with a “scheme” hatched by the king’s advisers (3:6) •  The matter became known to Mordecai (4:1) •  He told Queen Esther (4:7–8) 5. Concerning this, see S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure (SBLDS 44; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979) 59–93 (“Obedience/Disobedience”).

80

Chapter 4

•  Esther told the king and revealed her connection to Mordecai (7:1–6) •  The king sentenced the perpetrators to be hanged (7:9–10) •  Finally, the episode is chronicled (9:32) The king’s use of the expression “to scheme against” creates an association between the narrative’s twin conspiracies—both of which failed, and both of which brought the erstwhile conspirators to the gallows. The significance of foreshadowing the entire plot by means of a single scene lies in its emphasis on the reader’s inability to comprehend fully the meaning of individual events without the benefit of retrospect. This relates closely to the “hidden-writing” style of the narrative as a whole.

Chapter 5

“Some Time Afterward”: The Promotion of Haman (Esther 3:1–6) Chapter 3 begins with a description of Haman’s promotion: “Some time afterward, King Ahasuerus promoted Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite; he advanced him and seated him higher than any of his fellow officials” (3:1). The careful reader, slowly imbibing the verse, will sense surprise here, expecting that, if the king were about to promote anyone, it would be Mordecai, who had just foiled the chamberlains’ plot. The narrator nourishes this expectation by noting that the episode gained official recognition in the royal chronicle. Indeed, the verse’s chronological parataxis nudges the reader in this direction: “Some time afterward” (that is, after Mordecai’s display of loyalty to the king), “King Ahasuerus promoted”—and at this stage, the naïve reader, unfamiliar with the narrative’s continuation, feels certain that the next words will be “Mordecai the Jew, who sat at the king’s gate.” I suggest that the narrator intentionally misleads the reader, allowing him to experience maximum surprise after discovering that the king promoted, not Mordecai, but the previously unknown “Haman, son of Hamedatha, the Agagite.” 1 This surprise relates, of course, to the uniquely ironic structure of Esther; the tension generated by the reader’s expectation of some reward for Mordecai finds release in a most unexpected way later on (Esther 6), as Haman begins to lose this epic game of leapfrog when he is made to reward Mordecai at the expense of his own humiliation. The special status granted to Haman in chap. 3 assumes practical meaning, since “All the king’s courtiers in the palace gate knelt and bowed low to Haman” (3:2). Can we define the significance of Haman’s role? Why must everyone bow low to him? At the outset of the discussion it should be pointed out that the position of “second to the king” was a recognized one in ancient times (like Joseph in Egypt, for example). In the Achaemenid dynasty, this person was called the hazārapatis (meaning ‘officer of a 1.  “This verse sets up a sharp contrast between the unrewarded merit of Mordecai and Haman’s unmerited rewards” (C. A. Moore, Esther [AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971] 35); see also T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther (SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 69–70; J. D. Levenson, Esther (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997) 67; T. K. Beal, Esther (Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999) 44.

81

82

Chapter 5

thousand’), and the law mandated that everyone bow before either the king or the second-to-the-king. 2

Haman, Son of Hamedatha, the Agagite (3:1) Whatever official position Haman occupied, the narrator attaches a single appellation to his name, thereby connoting the essence of Haman’s role in the narrative: he is Haman, son of Hamedatha, the Agagite. In a straightforward reading, “Agagite,” a Persian name (as opposed to “Haman” and “Hamedatha,” which are Ilmi-Iranian names), refers to his clan. 3 In this context, however, a clear distinction should be drawn between the etymological meaning of the name and its literary significance. The introduction of an “Agagite” evokes an entirely different set of connotations, as, for 2. M. Heltzer, Esther (The World of the Bible; Tel Aviv: Davidson Atai, 1994) 241. I suggest an alternative explanation to the juxtaposition of the attempted rebellion and the rise of Haman. There seems to be a specific reason why the king feels a need to appoint Haman to this honored position. The unit begins with the words ‫( אחר הדברים האלה‬3:1). This is a common introduction in the Bible, especially in Genesis. It has multidirectional significance: on the one hand, it introduces a new literary unit; on the other hand, it hints that the new unit should be read against the background of the preceding. In other words, more than just a chronological notation, “after the events described thus far,” it means “in light of these things” or “against the background of these things.” As Amos Hakham puts it: “The words, ‘After these things’ are meant to connect the events that are about to be recounted to what was recounted before” (Esther [Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974] 22; see Rashbam’s commentary on Gen 22:1, where he notes this phenomenon). Hence, to translate these introductory words as “some time later on” (as Moore does [Esther, 33]) is not sufficiently accurate. The more common translation “after these things” (as jps 1917 and the kjv render it, among others) is preferable. According to this introduction, then, we are to interpret what we are told in Esther 3 (concerning the promotion of Haman) in light of the preceding unit, where Mordecai saved Ahasuerus from assassination. It is possible that, in light of the attempted rebellion, the king wanted to appoint a man on whom he could depend and to whom he could entrust the task of ensuring that there would be no repeat of this incident. This renders a very simple reading: After these things—against the backdrop of the attempted assassination of the king by his guards—Ahasuerus appointed a man whose main job would be “head of personal security.” The obligation to bow before Haman should be viewed as a symbolic act indicating that Haman had the right to interrogate any person throughout the kingdom, to invade the privacy of anyone who sat at the king’s gate (in the event of suspicion), to arrest anyone he deemed necessary, and so on. 3.  “Haman” is the name of the god who heads the Ilmi pantheon. The talmudic sages connect his name with God’s words to Adam when the latter justifies his hiding as a result of his nakedness: “Have you eaten from the tree (‫ )המן העץ‬concerning which I commanded you not to eat of it?” (Gen 3:11; b. Ḥul. 139b; Esth. Rab. 9:2). The motive for the connection may have to do with the fact that Haman will, later in the narrative, expect to receive the royal garments but will merit only dressing Mordecai in them and will eventually be hanged from the very gallows that he prepared for Mordecai. The name “Hamedatha” most likely means ‘solidly made’; see: R. Stiehl, “Das Buch Esther,” WZKM 53 (1956) 4–22; A. R. Millard, “The Persian Names in Esther and the Reliability of the Hebrew Text,” JBL 96 (1977) 481– 88.

The Promotion of Haman

83

example, recorded in the liturgical poem “Asher Heni,” which is customarily recited after the public reading of Esther on Purim: “Haman gave voice to his ancestors’ hatred, and passed on the grudge of the fathers to the sons; he did not remember the mercy of Saul, for it was through his pity for Agag that the enemy was born.” 4 Although the possibility remains that the moniker “Agagite” has nothing to do with the Amalekite king slaughtered by Samuel, it seems much more likely that the author deliberately mentions this title because of its biblical connotations, thereby introducing Haman as the heir of Amalek. 5 This literary meaning finds support when juxtaposed with other allusions, scattered throughout the text, to Saul’s battle against Amalek and Saul’s replacement by David in the wake of his failure. 6 In the book of Esther, Mordecai, a Benjaminite descendant of Kish (as the Benjaminite Saul was the son of Kish), battles Haman the Agagite (as Saul battled the Amalekite king Agag) in “Round Two” of the ancient battle, in which once again the Benjaminites prevail over Amalek. Note that the narrative makes no overt reference to Amalek or his mythic struggle with Israel but, in keeping with the concealed level of the story, provides sufficient allusion to keep it at the fore of the reader’s consciousness. As we shall see, the struggle between Israel and Amalek plays a role in the molding of the story and its significance. 7

“And Placed His Seat above All the Officers Who Were with Him” (3:1) The description of Haman’s promotion alludes to another narrative, imbuing the occasion with a profound historical dimension that echoes beneath the plain level of the text. We read, “King Ahasuerus promoted Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite; he advanced him and seated him higher than any of his fellow officials” (3:1). This description is highly reminiscent of the concluding verses of the book of Kings, in the description of Jehoiachin in Babylon: In the thirty-seventh year of the exile of King Jehoiachin of Judah, on the twenty-seventh day of the twelfth month, King Evil-Merodach of 4.  The author of the poem is unknown; however, all agree that the poem is ancient. Vitri Machzor (note 248) says that the men of the Great Assembly (anshei Kneset haGedola) wrote it. In research, opinions vary between the sixth to the tenth century. 5. W. McKane, “A Note on Esther IX and I Samuel XV,” JTS 12 (1961) 260–61; Moore, Esther, 35; Levenson, Esther, 66–67. 6.  See above discussions, pp. 56, 72. 7.  As mentioned, midrashic commentaries and liturgy note the connection between our narrative and Saul’s war against Amalek. Many modern scholars have also pointed out this connection. See, for example: McKane, “Note on Esther IX”; G. L. Mattingly, “Amalek,” ABD 1.169–71; E. Bickerman, Four Strange Books of the Bible (New York: Schocken, 1967) 196–99 (“Haman, the New Amalek”).

84

Chapter 5 Babylon, in the year he became king, took note of King Jehoiachin of Judah and released him from prison. He spoke kindly to him, and gave him a throne above those of other kings who were with him in Babylon. His prison garments were removed, and he received regular rations by his favor for the rest of his life. A regular allotment of food was given him at the instance of the king—an allotment for each day—all the days of his life. (2 Kgs 25:27–30) 8

In the twelfth month (Adar), the king of Babylon advanced the status of the exiled king of Judah, Jehoiachin, and placed his seat above the seats of the other kings who were in Babylon. He also had his prisoner’s clothing changed, apparently to royal garments. To clarify the intention behind this allusion, we should first consider the significance of the concluding unit of Kings. The preceding image depicts the destruction of the Temple and the exile of Zedekiah and his contemporaries to Babylon, seemingly an appropriate conclusion to a chronicle of the Israelite and Judean monarchy. The station of exiled Jews belongs to a new era. Furthermore, the narrative makes a considerable temporal leap from Zedekiah’s exile to the “thirty-seventh year of the exile of Jehoiachin, king of Judah.” Clearly, the narrator has made a deliberate effort to conclude his work on the optimistic note of Judean prestige despite exile rather than on a description of the exile itself. Additionally, it is reasonable to suggest that the narrator wishes to deliver a message of imminent redemption to the exiled nation and to the reader. Jeremiah, we recall, prophesied that the exile would last 70 years. Around the midpoint of this period, Divine Providence signals the first signs of rapprochement. In the promotion of Jehoiachin, the reader (like the exiles themselves) may glimpse the beginning of the exile’s end. Although prospects of the physical repossession of their land remain remote, the exiles (and readers) may begin to think about a renewal of Jewish sovereignty as their situation in Babylonia improves. Thus, the book of Kings ends not with the punishment and exile of Israel but with the inauguration of a new era. 9

8.  This connection is noted by A. Frisch, “Esther vs. Kings,” Mechkarei Chag 3 (1992) 26. 9.  See further: R. E. Clements, “A Royal Privilege: Dining in the Presence of the Great King (2 Kings 25.27–30),” Reflection and Refraction (2007) 49–66; D. F. Murray, “Of All the Years the Hopes—Or Fears? Jehoiachin in Babylon (2  Kings 25:27–30),” JBL 120 (2001) 245–65; B. Becking, “Jehojachin’s Amnesty, Salvation for Israel? Notes on 2 Kings 25,27– 30,” in Pentateuchal and Deuteronomistic Studies (ed. C. Brekelmans and J. Lust; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1990) 283–93. A similar phenomenon takes place at the end of the book of Chronicles, the last few verses of which recount the edict of Cyrus, which also forms the first few verses of the book of Ezra. See, for example, J. M. Myers, II Chronicles (AB 13; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1965) 224; J. Grossman, “Deliberate Misuse of Idioms in the Biblical Narrative,” Tarbiz 77 (2007) 40–41 [Heb.].

The Promotion of Haman

85

The new era gathers steam soon after the final events recorded in Kings. Following the Persian conquest of Babylonia, King Cyrus issues an edict permitting the Jews to return to their homeland and rebuild their Temple. Two of Jehoiachin’s descendants, Sheshbazzar and later Zerubbabel, rally the exiles and lead groups of them back to Judea. However, most of the Jewish exiles choose to remain in Babylon. The book of Esther tells the story of the Jews who elected to remain in exile, strike roots in the heart of the Persian Empire, and even rise to its highest political echelons. Perhaps by making a veiled reference to Jehoiachin’s promotion, the narrator wishes to introduce a counterpoint to Haman’s promotion by Ahasuerus. From the author’s point of view, the failure of Shushan’s Jews to respond to the Divine message of Jehoiachin’s promotion or to obey the prophets’ call to return to their land led God to appoint “an evil king like Haman” (b. Sanh. 97b) over them, to remind the Jews of the Diaspora that they remain in exile. This reading relates to the hidden theme that forms an undercurrent beneath the narrative as a whole and that will burst into the open at its conclusion.

“Mordecai Would Not Kneel or Bow Low” (3:2) “All the king’s courtiers in the palace gate knelt and bowed low to Haman, for such was the king’s order concerning him.” Note that the narrator mentions only “the king’s courtiers in the palace gate.” Were other citizens exempt from this order? Should we conclude from this that Haman did not travel about the country, and therefore the narrative may focus exclusively on those who sat at the king’s gate? Does the narrator simply limit the scope of the incident, so that he can telescope the case of Mordecai? We cannot be certain. Regardless, it remains clear that Mordecai disobeyed the king’s command by refusing to genuflect. A similarly obvious but insoluble question is why Mordecai refused to bow to the king’s second-in-command, thereby violating a royal decree and knowingly endangering his position and perhaps even his life. 10 Just as the narrator gives no rationale for Esther’s concealing her identity, so he now provides no explanation, at least not explicitly, for Mordecai’s refusal to bow to Haman. This comes as a surprise, for we are speaking of a most significant point in the narrative: it is this very situation, which develops into tension in the king’s court, that generates the whole story! This omission (not the only instance, as I have pointed out) causes the reader to pay attention to the hidden levels of the narrative. 11 It forces the reader to ask 10. It is reasonable to think that, at this stage, Mordecai does not imagine that he is also endangering his entire people. Nevertheless, as we shall see later on, some of the talmudic sages maintain that he should have taken this possibility into consideration. 11.  See the discussion of Esther’s concealment on pp. 73–75.

86

Chapter 5

himself what the narrator is hiding, what might motivate the actions (or lack of action) of the various characters, and what messages the narrative is trying to convey. In order to understand Mordecai’s behavior, the contemporary reader must free himself of artistic renditions of this scene—a difficult task given the illustrations which accompany so many editions of the book of Esther, from Medieval times until today, which depict the king’s servants bowing and prostrating themselves before Haman, while Mordecai stands erect among them, glaring defiantly. The language of the text actually paints a very different picture. Although Mordecai “would not kneel or bow low,” Haman fails to notice this act of defiance until the king’s servants draw his attention to it (“they told Haman, in order to see whether Mordecai’s resolve would prevail. . . . when Haman saw that Mordecai would not kneel or bow low to him, Haman was filled with rage,” 3:4–5). Perhaps, as Fox suggests (echoing Bardtke), this information is meant to tell us something about Haman’s personality: “We are to picture him wafting through the crowd seeing only the adulation he is receiving, noticing no one individually, not even the one person who—as everyone else sees—remains unbowed and thus most conspicuous.” 12 We might argue, however, that it is not

at all obvious that “everyone else sees.” Perhaps Haman’s failure to notice says more about Mordecai’s behavior than it does about Haman’s ego. Perhaps Mordecai avoids a display of brazen disrespect (at this stage of the narrative, at least) by finding some excuse to absent himself whenever Haman approaches. In this way, he can avoid bowing to Haman without incurring his wrath. After a while, however, the king’s servants begin to notice Mordecai’s passive-aggressive behavior and to disbelieve his pretexts. Once he tells them “that he is a Jew” (3:4), they understand the underlying principle of his evasions and make Haman aware as well. At this point, Haman verifies the rumors about Mordecai, perhaps by deliberately approaching more suddenly or frequently and forcing Mordecai into a direct confrontation. This reading can help clarify Mordecai’s motives. He attempts to evade Haman but not to defy him openly. Why, then, does Mordecai refuse to bow? Furthermore, how does the narrator judge Mordecai’s refusal—positively or critically? Regarding Mordecai’s behavior, two opposing schools of thought are discernible even among the earliest Jewish exegetes. Some view Mordecai’s principled approach positively, contrasting him with the Jews who do bow to Haman. For example, the following bit of rabbinic exegesis uses Mordecai’s stance as evidence that God remains with Israel in exile: 12.  M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001) 45.

The Promotion of Haman

87

For as long as I am with them, they do not assume a bad name. In Egypt I was with them, and the nation was found to be whole [perfect], as it is written, “A garden locked is my own, my bride” (Song 4:12). In Babylon I was with them and the nation was found to be whole, as it is written, “For if so it must be, our God whom we serve . . .” (Dan 3:17). In Media I was with them and the nation was found to be whole, as it is written: “Mordecai would not kneel or bow low” (3:2). In Greece, they did not write upon the horn of the ox that they have no portion in the God of Israel. (Exod. Rab. 15:16)

This midrash, in which Mordecai stands for enduring Jewish faith, represents the typical view of the early and medieval rabbis and commentators. Nevertheless, some rabbinic voices express sharp criticism of Mordecai’s actions. Based on the presumed contradiction in 2:5, which describes Mordecai as both a member of the tribe of Judah (‫ )איש יהודי‬and a Benjaminite (‫)איש ימיני‬, the talmudic sage Rabbah places the following complaint in the mouth of the entire nation: See what the ‫‘[ יהודי‬son of the tribe of Judah’] did, and how the ‫‘[ ימיני‬Benjaminite’] has repaid me. What the ‫ יהודי‬did—that David did not kill Shimei, from whom Mordecai was descended, and it was he who aroused Haman’s zeal. And the ‫ ימיני‬has repaid me—that Saul did not kill Agag, from whom Haman was descended, and he brought trouble upon Israel. (b. Meg. 12b–13a).

Rabbah expresses a dual criticism: of Saul for his failure to kill Agag, enabling Agag’s descendant Haman to threaten Israel; and of David for his failure to kill Shimei, allowing his descendant Mordecai to place Israel in its predicament. This passage equates Saul and David for their respective failures but also equates Mordecai, the book’s hero, with Haman, its villain! In Rabbah’s view, had Mordecai never existed and never had the opportunity to provoke Haman, the Jewish people would have been better off. 13 Though the narrator does not explicitly pass judgment on Mordecai’s actions, he shapes the reader’s response by deploying a covert rhetorical device characteristic of the book of Esther—a single reference to an earlier model. The narrator describes Mordecai’s persistent refusal to take the advice of his fellow courtiers as follows: “When they spoke to him day after day, and he would not listen to them, . . .” (3:4). The language of this statement directs the reader to Gen 39:10, which describes Joseph’s persistent refusal to sleep with Potiphar’s wife: “And as much as she coaxed Joseph 13. The following midrash clearly takes issue with Rabbah’s interpretation: “David said, with Divine inspiration, A man will descend from him [Shimei] and the Holy One will perform great salvation through him, and by his merit, he will be called ‫איש ימיני‬ [Mordecai]. The Holy One said to David: Since you spared Shimei from death so that that righteous man could be born, I shall ascribe him to your tribe—as it is written: ‫ איש יהודי‬. . . (Midr. Panim Aherim, 2nd version, 6).

88

Chapter 5

day after day, he would not listen to her.” 14 The significance of this reference pertains both to the wider parallel between the two narratives (which we shall address in chap. 17) and to the present, more limited context. 15 By making Mordecai’s refusal analogous to Joseph’s, the author promotes their moral equivalence. 16 Just as Joseph repelled the constant propositioning by Potiphar’s wife, Mordecai ignored the incessant questioning by his fellow courtiers, remained true to his principles, and refused to bow to Haman. The latter question resolved, we may now address the former, more fundamental question of Mordecai’s motive for refusing. Elsewhere in the Bible, heroic characters bow to kings and ordinary people as a matter of course. Thus, for example, Abraham prostrated himself before his three guests (Gen 18:2) and before the Hittites (Gen 23:7, 12). Jacob prostrated himself before Esau (Gen 33:3), and his sons followed his example when they bowed to the troublesome “Egyptian ruler” (Gen 43:28). Moses prostrated himself before his father-in-law (Exod 18:7). Mephibosheth, Joab, Absalom, Ahimaaz, Araunah, the prophet Nathan, and others bowed to David, and there are many other examples. Therefore, the proposal that Mordecai refused to bow due to some specific religious prohibition or taboo seems unjustified. His motives must lie elsewhere. Personal Motive Some scholars have viewed Mordecai’s refusal as the result of the sort of personal rivalry common in any royal court (or, indeed, in any political setting). Recall that, prior to Haman’s promotion, the narrator described how Mordecai saved the king’s life. Perhaps he felt that the great honor that was being lavished on Haman should rightfully have been his. 17 Religious Motive In a different direction (more prevalent among the medieval commentators), some scholars view Mordecai’s refusal as being related to idolatry. In this view, Haman “deified himself” (Rashi), 18 or at least wore a small idol around his neck, so that anyone who bowed to him was in effect also 14. The jps 1985 version has “he did not yield to her request.” My translation reflects the similarity of the Hebrew, which is much more readily apparent than in other translations: ‫( ויהי כדברה אל יוסף יום יום ולא שמע אליה‬Gen 39:10) and ‫ויהי כאמרם אליו יום ויום ולא שמע‬ ‫( אליהם‬3:4). 15.  We have already encountered parallels between Esther and the Joseph narratives. See pp. 47, 59–61; and below, pp. 210–213. 16.  Levenson, Esther, 68. 17.  This idea is proposed, for example, in L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 187; Bickerman, Four Strange, 172–81. The roots of this approach can be found in several midrashim of the talmudic sages (even though it is not the prevailing approach), which provide a backstory in which Haman sold himself as a slave to Mordecai, who therefore refused to bow to his own bondsman (Yal. Shimoni, Esth. 1056). 18.  Rashi on Esth 3:2.

The Promotion of Haman

89

bowing to the idol: “When Ahasuerus commanded [everyone] to bow to Haman, he [Haman] hung an idol on his chest, intending to make people bow before it” (Esth. Rab. 6:2). This interpretation may have been inspired by rituals associated with wearing a crucifix. 19 Ethnic Motive Other scholars view Mordecai’s refusal against the background of the broader national struggle between the Jews and Amalek. Mordecai, proud of his identity as a Jew, would never bow to an Amalekite. The roots of this view also appear in the words of the talmudic rabbis, and some modern scholars, such as Bush, echo them: Both the way in which the narrator takes for granted that it relates to Mordecai’s Jewishness and the absence of any other reasonable explanation give great credence to the view that the narrator assumed his readers would recognize the tribal and racial enmity implied by the patronymics of the two men. 20

Discussion of Motives We may come closer to discovering the most plausible interpretation by discounting the first approach, which attributes Mordecai’s refusal to personal motives. Several bits of evidence accumulate in support of the idea that Mordecai’s actions were connected to his Jewish identity (be it religious, national, or both). The text provides only one clue to the reason for Mordecai’s refusal: “for he had explained to them that he was a Jew” (3:4). Although this statement has been interpreted variously, all agree that the reason Mordecai gives for his refusal to bow is related to his being a Jew. Mordecai’s Jewish identity stands at the center of Haman’s plan “to do away with all the Jews, Mordecai’s people, throughout the kingdom of Ahasuerus” (3:6). Apparently, Haman also regarded Mordecai’s refusal to bow as an expression of his Jewishness, and he therefore extends his anger and his decree to all of the Jews—Mordecai’s people. The narrator uses the expression “kneel and bow low” and not just “bow low” in both the king’s command (3:2) and Haman’s notice of Mordecai’s refusal (3:5). Elsewhere in the Bible, this combination of kneeling and bowing low appears exclusively as an act of religious worship. In no other instance does one person kneel and bow low before another. 21 Presumably, 19.  L. H. Brockington adopts this view (The Hebrew Text of the Old Testament: The Readings Adopted by the Translators of the New English Bible [London: Oxford University Press, 1973] 231). 20.  F. W. Bush, Ruth, Esther (WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998) ad loc. See also Moore, Esther, 36–37; Y. Medan, “Mordecai Did Not Bow, nor Did He Prostrate Himself—Why?” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 151–70, esp. p. 167 [Heb.]. 21.  BDB, 502: “worship of God, but Est 3:2, 2, 5 in obeisance to Haman.”

90

Chapter 5

therefore, the obligation to bow before Haman and Mordecai’s refusal to do so carried religious overtones. Mordecai remains adamant even after Haman’s genocidal decree (5:9), and even after he has managed to convince Esther to endanger her own life by appearing before the king to plead for her people (4:13–16). Since Mordecai did not apologize to Haman for his disrespect, try to reconcile with him, or even cease his provocative behavior, we must conclude that he felt it to be a matter of principle and not simply a matter of petty politics and power struggles. The books of Esther and Daniel parallel each other in numerous ways. 22 Both describe a gathering of young men or women “of good appearance.” Jewish exiles appear in each gathering, and specifically, they find favor in the eyes of the ruler and gain prominent positions in the royal court. Furthermore, both tell of Jews who refuse to kneel and bow low at the king’s command, sparking enmity and decrees of genocide. Ultimately, in both narratives, the antagonists suffer the fate that they had planned for the Jews (hanging on the gallows, burning). This system of parallels strengthens the interpretation of Mordecai’s refusal as a principled decision, parallel to the refusal of Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah to commit idolatry by bowing to Nebuchadnezzar’s golden statue. 23 Having rejected the possibility of personal conflict as the sole motive for Mordecai’s refusal to bow to Haman, we are left with two possibilities: did Mordecai regard this act as idolatry (Amos Hakham states this: “Apparently, Mordecai believed that kneeling and bowing low before a mortal smacked of idolatry”), 24 or did he refuse on ethnic grounds (a Jew does not bow to Haman, an Agagite)? We may note that the text contains no overt references to religious symbols. It focuses on a national struggle, pitting the Jews against those who hated them, and largely ignores the religious dimension. I am therefore inclined to view Mordecai’s refusal against this background: Mordecai, the Jew, refuses to bow to Haman, the (implied) Amalekite. As Laniak correctly summarizes: “The issue is not that as a Jew he will refuse to bow down to anyone. Rather, Mordecai, the Jew, will not bow down to Haman, the Agagite. 25

22.  W. L. Humphreys, “A Life-Style for Diaspora: A Study of the Tales of Esther and Dan­iel,” JBL 92 (1973) 211–23; G. H. Cohen, “Introduction to Esther,” in Esther (Daʿat Mi­kra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974) 14–16; S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure (SBLDS 44; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979) 123–52. 23.  Fox suggests that, since Mordecai is portrayed so positively in the book of Esther, it is difficult to imagine that the narrator hints that his motives are personal (Fox, Character, 43). Nevertheless, it is possible that Mordecai develops during the course of the narrative and that, even if he is ultimately portrayed in a positive light, there still could have been veiled criticism of his actions at the beginning. 24. A. Hakham, Esther (Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974) 22. 25.  Laniak, Shame, 70 n. 7.

The Promotion of Haman

91

Mordecai as Vashti (and Haman as Ahasuerus) Mordecai’s refusal to bow gains another dimension when we recall our earlier encounter with a member of Ahasuerus’s royal court who refused to obey the king’s command. In chap. 1, Vashti refused to appear before the king, who commanded that she “display her beauty to the peoples and the officials” (1:11). 26 Correspondingly, there are two characters whose pride is injured by these decisions: in chap. 1, Ahasuerus; in chap. 3, Haman. 27 A close reading reveals a clear connection between these two scenes in terms of both the development of the plot and the linguistic texture. In both instances, the violation results in the dispatch of letters “to all the provinces of the king” (1:22, 3:13). In each case, one of the king’s officers recommends the new dispatch. Although in each case only one person breaks the law, the ensuing decree includes an entire population. 28 In both cases, the edict focuses on the population represented by the violator of the law: the king’s anger toward Vashti is broadened to include all the women (1:17–18), and Haman’s anger toward Mordecai is broadened to include all the Jews (3:6). Following Vashti’s refusal to come before the king, we read, “. . . as they reflect (‫ )באמרם‬that King Ahasuerus himself ordered Queen Vashti to be brought before him, but she would not come” (1:17). Similarly, following Mordecai’s refusal to bow, we read, “When they spoke (‫ )באמרם‬to him day after day and he would not listen to them, . . .” (3:4). 29 In both cases, expressions of scorn accompany the decree’s expansion. Memucan advocates legislating for all women by predicting that Vashti’s actions “will make all wives despise (‫ )להבזות‬their husbands. . . . [T]here will be no end of scorn (‫ )ביזיון‬and provocation” (1:17–18). Similarly, Haman “disdained (‫ )ויבז‬to lay hands on Mordecai alone; having been told who Mordecai’s people were, . . .” (3:6). This surprising connection between two very different lawbreakers contributes to our reading of this scene on two levels. First, it shapes our response to Mordecai’s actions by reminding us of Vashti’s crime and punishment, thereby ratcheting up the tension in the scene. Despite the lack of 26.  See Y. Shemesh, “The Metamorphoses of Vashti,” Beit Mikra 47 (2002) 360. Levenson notes that Mordecai’s violation of the king’s command is formulated stronger than Vashti’s. Concerning Mordecai, we read, “Why do you disobey (‫ )עובר‬the king’s order?” (3:3), whereas Vashti was punished “for failing to obey the command of King Ahasuerus” (1:15; Levenson, Esther, 47–48). 27.  Laniak, Shame, 71–72. 28.  Indeed, the word ‘all’ (‫ )כל‬features prominently in both cases: “against all the officials and against all the peoples in all the provinces” (1:16); “all the Jews throughout (‫ )בכל‬the kingdom” (3:6). 29.  The Hebrew expression ‫ באמרם‬is rare, appearing in only one other place in the Bible (Ps 42:11).

92

Chapter 5

proportion in Haman’s genocidal decree, and despite the fact that it would never receive approval in an orderly regime, recalling the episode of Vashti and the edict that was promulgated in its wake prepares the reader for the worst. Beyond this, however, this connection contributes to one of the most important, albeit concealed messages of the narrative. Reading these two scenes in close succession, the reader senses that this narrative explores the issue of violating royal orders. We might formulate this idea a bit differently: the issue of loyalty to the Persian king concerns the narrator. How should Jews behave in exile? Should they bow their heads to the Persian king, or may they transgress his orders? In this sense, Vashti, a woman who maintains her principles by refusing to participate in a drunken orgy, becomes a role model. Were Mordecai to kneel and bow low, it would reflect poorly on him and on all the Jews of Shushan. By refusing to bow to Haman, on the other hand, he demonstrates a sense of proportion. He neglects the edicts of the mortal king out of allegiance to a different King—who, while never mentioned explicitly, pervades the plot. In this sense, the aforementioned single reference to the story of Joseph and the wife of Potiphar assumes its full significance: a person’s fealty to his True Master can be measured by his willingness to refuse the orders of his temporal master (or mistress).

Chapter 6

The Casting of the Lot (Esther 3:6–7) Although Haman could have simply removed Mordecai from his position or killed him, he extended his decree of annihilation to all Jews. In this sense, the reaction to Mordecai’s crime contrasts with the reaction to its parallel, Vashti’s crime. The legislation promulgated at the end of Esther 1 mandates that all wives give honor to their husbands. Additionally, Vashti pays a price individually, in that she is stripped of her position (and arguably, put to death). In chap. 3, however, Haman decides to vent his wrath on all of the Jews, but for some reason seems to forget Mordecai as an individual. The narrator indicates Haman’s motivation for this: “[H]e disdained to lay hands on Mordecai alone; having been told who Mordecai’s people were, Haman plotted to do away with all the Jews, Mordecai’s people, throughout the kingdom of Ahasuerus” (3:6). Thus, it seems that Mordecai’s life and well-being were of trifling value to Haman; he therefore sought to harm all of the Jews. In the statement “having been told (‫)הגידו לו‬ who Mordecai’s people were” (3:6), the reader hears an echo of Mordecai’s revelation to the servants of the king: “for he had explained to them (‫הגיד‬ ‫ )להם‬that he was a Jew” (3:4). Thus, we may reasonably deduce that Haman perceived Mordecai’s refusal to bow as a profound expression of his Jewish identity, making the entire people the object of his wrath. Nevertheless, the text fails to answer our question: why does the decree against all of the Jews replace the execution of Mordecai rather than supplementing it? 1 Despite Haman’s supremacy, it is possible that Mordecai’s position among the courtiers deterred Haman from assaulting him. The language of the verse, “he disdained,” connotes a political, pragmatic difficulty that faced Haman in his quest to punish Mordecai. As Haman saw it, decreeing annihilation of all Jews represented the best way to remove Mordecai the Jew from the palace gate. 2

1.  “No reason, however, appears why Haman should postpone his vengeance on Mordecai. He would naturally dispatch him at once, even if he intended to kill the other Jews later. The delay is due solely to literary reason” (L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther [ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908] 200). 2. Regarding the somewhat opaque explanation in the text, “he disdained to lay hands on Mordecai alone,” see T. K. Beal, Esther (Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999) 48.

93

94

Chapter 6

To establish a date for all the Jews to be slaughtered, Haman casts a lot. 3 Some scholars suggest that v. 7, which describes the lot-casting, is transposed and squeezed into an unnatural place; it would seem logical for Haman to cast the lot only after obtaining the king’s approval. 4 In truth, however, the temporal ordering can easily be understood as presenting Haman’s supreme confidence in his power to persuade the king. 5 The lots play no significant role in the plot development. However, this mundane and seemingly trivial detail gives the Purim festival its name (Purim = ‘lots’). Among scholars, the view that the book of Esther is an etiological myth prevails. This claim rests principally on the verses that are read toward the end of the book: “For that reason these days were named Purim, after pur. In view, then, of all the instructions in the said letter, . . .” (9:26). 6 Those who reject this view cannot ignore the fact that the name of the festival relates to the casting of the lot, imbuing this act with special importance, even though it seems to play such a trivial role in the plot. 7 Moreover, in describing the lottery, the narrator does not reveal what date was chosen! The exact date—the 13th of Adar—is mentioned only in the citation of Haman’s letter, further on in the chapter (3:13). 8 Perhaps the narrator seeks thereby to draw the reader’s attention to the month in which the lot falls—the 12th month (a fact already mentioned at this stage)—rather than the exact day. This causes the reader to note that the lot falls on the most distant month possible. However, it is also possible that, by ignoring its outcome, the narrator focuses the reader on the lot-casting itself rather than on its results. This intensifies the question: what is the significance of the lot? 9 3.  Paton maintains that by means of the lot Haman wanted to establish the date when he would come to the king to seek the annihilation of the Jews (Paton, Esther, 200–202). It is interesting that the date for the slaughter of the Jews fell on the 13th day (of Adar), and the dispatch of the letters to this effect also took place on the 13th day (of Nissan). 4. P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 (1907–8) 126. 5.  See further H. Bardtke, Das Buch Esther (KAT; Gütersloh: Mohn, 1963) 243–44 (likewise maintaining that the verse belongs where it is). 6.  See, for example, Paton, Esther, 54–57. 7. Some claim “that the holiday and its name originated independently from the book, and that the book is the vehicle through which the holiday was reinterpreted so as to invest it with Jewish significance. It is here that the name of the holiday is linked with the story of its origin, through the type of false etymology that is so common in the Bible” (A. Berlin, Esther [jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001] 90–91). See also: Paton, Esther, 77–94; T. H. Gaster, Purim and Hanukkah in Custom and Tradition (New York: Schuman, 1950) 6–18; Moore, Esther, xlvi–xlix; G. Gerleman, Esther (BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973) 23–28. But see, as a contrary view, Levenson, Esther, 22. 8.  Indeed, the Septuagint inserts the date (13th of Adar) into the description of the casting of the lot as well. 9.  The hypothesis that follows is expanded in my “Feasting and Fasting in Esther,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 73–91 [Heb.].

The Casting of the Lot

95

“In the first month, that is, the month of Nisan, in the twelfth year of King Ahasuerus, pur—which means “the lot”—was cast before Haman concerning every day and every month until the twelfth month, that is, the month of Adar” (3:7). The date of Haman’s casting of the lot (“In the first month, that is, the month of Nissan”) seems to carry some literary meaning: it links Esther with the story of the exodus from Egypt (Exod 12:2–3). 10 However, the story’s historical setting may shed additional light on the significance of these dates. In Babylonia (and probably in the Sumerian context in general), 11 the New Year, Akītu (or: Zagmuku), was celebrated with feasts during the first 12 days of the first month, Nissan. Akītu was the year’s most important festival. An account detailing the celebrations with relation to worshiping the god Marduk (whose name is connected to the name Mordecai, as noted previously) has been preserved. 12 Two motifs found in these texts are worth noting in the present context. 13 (1) The king himself played a central and active role in the celebrations, which climaxed with the king’s entry into the temple of the god Marduk (on the 6th of Nissan). There, the priest would remove the king’s royal regalia (“take away the scepter, the circle, and the sword”), 14 and the king— bowing to the ground—would have to declare that he had not sinned or been negligent in fulfilling his obligations toward “your great godliness.” 15 10. A. D. Cohen, “’Hu Ha-goral’: The Religious Significance of Esther,” Judaism 23 (1974) 87–94. 11.  “If Darius felt no personal respect for the Babylonian temple and their priesthood, he could not entirely ignore their solid contributions to practical scholarship. . . . From them also he took the scientists who made his calendar more exact” (A. T. Olmstead, History of the Persian Empire [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1948] 199–200). See also J. M. Fennelly, “The Persepolis Ritual,” BA 43 (1980) 135–62. 12.  ANET, 331–34; M. J. H. Linssen, The Cults of Uruk and Babylon: The Temple Ritual Texts as Evidence for Hellenistic Cult Practices (Cuneiform Monographs 25; Leiden: Brill, 2004) 197–244; 84–196. See also: H. Zimmern, “Zur Frage nach dem Ursprung des Purim­ festes,” ZAW 11 (1891) 157–69; Olmstead, History, 272–88; T. H. Gaster, Purim and Hanukkah in Custom and Tradition (New York: Schumann, 1950); H. Ringgren, “Esther and Purim,” SEÅ 20 (1956) 5–24 (he regards Purim as “essentially derived from a certain form of Persian New Year ceremonies” (p. 24); George Contenau, La vie Quotidienne: A Babylone et en Assyrie (trans. S. Gilai; Tel Aviv: Am-Hasefer, 1964) 194; M. E. Cohen, The Cultic Calendars of the Ancient Near East (Bethesda, MD: CDL, 1993) 400–53; J. Klein, “Akītu,” ABD 1.138–40. 13.  On the kuppuru that took place on the 5th day of the Akītu, see K. L. Sparks, “Enūma Elish and Priestly Mimesis: Elite Emulation in Nascent Judaism,” JBL 126 (2007) 632–35. 14.  ANET, 334. 15.  For the analogy between this festival and the Israelite New Year festival (especially Leviticus 16), see: B. A. Levine, In the Presence of the Lord: A Study of Cult and Some Cultic Terms in Ancient Israel (SJLA 5; Leiden: Brill, 1974; J. Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16 (AB 3; New York: Doubleday, 1991) 1067–70; D. P. Wright, The Disposal of Impurity: Elimination Rites in the Bible and in Hittite and Mesopotamian Literature (SBLDS 101; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987); Grossman, “Feasting,” 86–91; Sparks, Priestly Mimesis, 633–35. Sparks’s claim that “the conclusion that Israel adapted Akītu rituals for use in Jerusalem is further reinforced by the fact the Persian did the same in Persepolis” (pp. 634–35) is not convincing.

96

Chapter 6

On the 9th of Nissan, the idol of Marduk was brought out of the temple in an impressive public ceremony, and the people would drink and dance. On the next day, the 10th of Nissan, the idol would return to its place. (2) The New Year was perceived by the ancient Babylonian as the time when fates were determined for the entire year. Once the idol Marduk was returned to its place, the priests would cast various lots in order to ascertain what was expected to happen during the course of the year. 16 We may reasonably presume that Haman cast his lot in the first month as part of this ritual. 17 Note the wording: “. . . was cast before Haman.” This implies that someone other than Haman did the actual casting (baru), perhaps a priest, at Haman’s invitation. 18 The fundamental assumption underlying the pagan casting of lots is that the gods determine, at the beginning of the year, a set number of days conducive to success or punishment. When Haman’s lot turned up the 13th of Adar, he believed that day to be marked for punishment (as indeed it was—but “the opposite happened,” and the punishment visited the enemies of Israel). 19 The biblical attitude toward various forms of magic and divination may be discerned from the following episode. Before Saul consulted with the medium prior to his battle against the Philistines, the narrator emphasizes that he “inquired of the Lord, but the Lord did not answer him, either by dreams or by Urim or by prophets” (1 Sam 28:6). This verse represents an attempt to bypass a direct encounter with God and to use metaphysical powers to divine the future. The world of magic held greater attraction and power in the absence of prophecy, and in exile, when God’s presence remained concealed. Joseph, who ruled over Egypt at the beginning of the Israelite sojourn there, understood dreams but did not merit prophecy. Likewise, dreams are a central theme of the book of Daniel, set just a short time before Esther. When Jonathan ascended to the Philistine garrison, the narrator emphasizes that “Ahijah son of Ahitub . . . was there bearing an ephod.—The troops did not know that Jonathan had gone.” (1 Sam 14:3). The ephod [of the high priest, the means of direct communication with God] was not in Jonathan’s hands, and so he appealed to divination for help. In Esther, an exilic narrative, 20 the general atmosphere invites lot16. For further elaboration, see H. Tadmor, “Rosh Ha-shana,” Biblical Encyclopedia 7.306–11. Concerning the lot in this environment, see W. W. Hallo, “The First Purim,” BA 46 (1983) 19–26. 17.  This is noted by Y. Klein and M. Tzipor, Esther (The World of the Bible; Tel Aviv: Davidson Atai, 1994) 242. Similarly: M. Margaliot, “The Hidden Battle between the God of Israel and Haman,” Beit Mikra 23 (1986) 296 n. 14a. 18.  See Y. Kaufmann, History of the Israelite Faith (Tel Aviv: Bialik, 1960) 4.445–46. On the baru status, see Contenau, Babylone, 204–5. 19. See Beal, Esther, 49. 20.  Concerning the date of this narrative as an exilic narrative see: W. L. Humphreys, “A Life-Style for Diaspora: A Study of the Tales of Esther and Daniel,” JBL 92 (1973) 211–23;

The Casting of the Lot

97

casting and divining what fate has in store. 21 However, the God of Israel overturned Haman’s fatalism and determinism. 22 Under the surface, the book of Esther sends the message that the God of Israel enjoys complete freedom to run his world and prevails over lots and fates. Whereas a superficial reading of Esther may suggest that it is a profane tale, with the casting of the lot representing a minor event of little significance, a deeper look at the lot-casting and its results reveals a clash between two world views. From the narrator’s point of view, naming the festival after Haman’s lots and God’s reversal of them is entirely appropriate. A. Meinhold, Das Buch Esther (ZBK; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1983) 14–17; Fox, Character, 145–48. 21.  The LXX actually begins with a dream experienced by Mordecai (“on the first day of the month of Nissan”), and its interpretation is the actual course of events described in the book of Esther. 22.  Contenau, Babylone, 195. It should be emphasized that the general impression that arises from the Bible is that there is indeed some real value to the world of divination and lots, and that one can, in reality, make use of it—except that it is forbidden to do so ( J. Lindblom, “Lot-Casting in the OT,” VT 12 [1962] 164–78; C. Van Dam, “‫גורל‬,” NIDOTTE 1.840–42). This sense is supported by many examples, such as the divinations of Laban, the servant of Abraham, and Jonathan Saul’s son, Saul’s consultation of the medium, and the lots cast by the sailors on the boat commissioned by Jonah in order to determine “on whose account this misfortune has come upon us.” And indeed, “the lot fell on Jonah” ( Jonah 1:7). Against this background, we may understand the Divine demand set out in Deuteronomy (18:13): “You must be wholehearted with the Lord your God”—as opposed to knowing the future in the ways practiced by the other nations, which is through one “who is an augur, a soothsayer, a diviner, a sorcerer, one who casts spells, or one who consults ghosts or familiar spirits, or one who inquires of the dead” listed just prior to this commandment (Deut 18:10–11).

Chapter 7

Did the King Know of Haman’s Decree? (Esther 3:8–11) As I noted in the introduction, a narrative that conceals its messages often keeps its own characters in the dark, thereby shaping the reader’s sense of uncertainty and forcing him to dig for meaning beneath the surface. Needless to say, if the narrative keeps the king’s knowledge—upon which the whole kingdom depends—incomplete, it will certainly spur the reader to seek clarity through obscured messages. This seems to be the case in the Esther narrative: the king remains ignorant of both minor details (such as Esther’s nationality) and major themes, such as Haman’s true ambitions. After casting the lot, Haman had an audience with King Ahasuerus in which he proposed his plan: “If it please Your Majesty, let an edict be drawn for their destruction, and I shall weigh ten thousand talents of silver to the stewards for deposit in the royal treasury” (3:9). Haman petitioned Ahasuerus to ‘destroy’ (‫ )לאבד‬the people of Yehud who are scattered and dispersed throughout the provinces of his kingdom. 1 He blurs his intentions, giving no indication of the concrete method by which he intends to “destroy” this nation. The Bible offers several alternative meanings of the term ‫ איבוד‬when applied to a people. Most commonly, it means extermination or slaughter, such as in Ezek 22:27: “Her officials are like wolves rending prey in her midst; they shed blood and destroy lives to win ill-gotten gain.” 2 Later in the Esther narrative, Haman formulates his edict more specifically: “to destroy, massacre, and exterminate all the Jews” (Esth 3:13). Most modern translations reflect this sense of the word in their rendition of Haman’s request to the king. 3 The Bible, however, recognizes forms of ‫ איבוד‬that do not imply extermination, such as in the curses at the end of Deuteronomy: 1.  Note that Haman formulates his plan in passive form: “let an edict be drawn for their destruction,” as though this will happen by itself (M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther [2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001] 51). 2.  BDB, 1; KBL, 3. 3.  For example, jps 1985 cited above; “Let it be written that they be destroyed” (kjv); “let a decree be issued to destroy them” (nab); “let it be decreed that they be destroyed” (nau); “let an edict be drawn up for their destruction” (F. Bush, Ruth, Esther [WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998] 376); “to be destroyed” (C. A. Moore, Esther [AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971] 34).

98

Did the King Know of Haman’s Decree?

99

And as the Lord once delighted in making you prosperous and many, so will the Lord now delight in causing you to perish (‫ )דיבאהל‬and in wiping you out; you shall be torn from the land that you are about to enter and possess. The Lord will scatter you among all the peoples from one end of the earth to the other, and there you shall serve other gods, wood and stone, whom neither you nor your ancestors have experienced. . . . There you shall offer yourselves for sale to your enemies as male and female slaves, but none will buy. (Deut 28:63–64, 68)

In these verses, ‫ איבוד‬connotes exile (“you shall be torn from the land”) and loss of freedom (“there you shall offer yourselves for sale to your enemies as male and female slaves”). A people conquered and enslaved ceases to function as a people, and, in this sense, has been destroyed. 4 In contrast to Haman’s edict, which explicitly mandates “destroy, massacre, and exterminate all the Jews, young and old, children and women” (Esth 3:13), his petition to the king contains but a single equivocal reference to the fate of the scattered people. Furthermore, the general thrust of his petition may lead the king—and the reader—to conclude that Haman plans to ruin this nation economically, perhaps by enslaving them. Indeed, Haman seems to propose his solution as a simple cost-benefit analysis: “It is not in Your Majesty’s interest (‫ )אין שוה‬to tolerate them” (3:8). Granted, this phrase in no way necessitates a purely fiscal interpretation. 5 Nevertheless, in light of Haman’s immediate (but obscure) 6 promise to “pay ten thousand talents of silver to the stewards for deposit in the royal treasury” (3:9), the economic dimension of Haman’s proposal seems strong indeed. The 10,000 talents of silver that Haman promised clearly dwarfed his personal fortune. 7 Faced with the obscurity of the source of Haman’s funding, some scholars detect plans to plunder the Jews in Haman’s words. 8 Others, however, note the implausibility of this reading. 9 4.  As noted by P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 (1907–8) 135. 5. KBL, 1333–34 (“Denn das ist keine Not, die für eine Belästigung des Königs ausreicht”). Berlin raises the possibility that Haman is suggesting to the king that there is no economic benefit to him (in the context of the tax that the king receives) from this people (A. Berlin, Esther [jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001] 41). 6. A. Hakham writes: “Haman’s intention in offering the money is not made clear” (Esther [Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974] 25). 7.  According to Herodotus (3.90–95), during the reign of Darius the annual tax in silver and gold came to a sum of 14,500 talents of silver. Haman’s offer of 10,000 talents of silver, in the Achaemenid Empire, represented a huge sum. See, for example, Bush, Esther, 381–82; D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story ( JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 296. 8. H. Bardtke, “Neuere Arbeiten zum Estherbuch,” JEOL 19 (1965–66) 322, and many others adopt his view. 9.  Clines, Esther Scroll, 296–97; Bush, Esther, 382. Admittedly, Bush’s proof—that Haman’s edict explicitly reserves the loot for the plunderers themselves and not for the crown—falls short. It remains possible that the king forewent the silver. Hakham proposes

100

Chapter 7

The problem of Haman’s money becomes clearer if we focus our attention on Ahasuerus’s understanding of Haman’s proposal rather than on Haman’s possible intentions. Simply understood, Haman is attempting to convince the king that he stands to gain immensely from selling a “certain scattered people” into slavery, adding their market value to the kingdom. The structure of Haman’s monologue, which juxtaposes “let an edict be drawn for their destruction” with “I shall weigh ten thousand talents of silver to the stewards for deposit in the royal treasury” 10 frames Haman’s proposal in economic terms, increasing the likelihood that the king, in fact, understood it in this manner. 11 Note that economically based edicts against the Jews/Israelites appear elsewhere in the Bible. For example, Pharaoh made the following decree: “The Egyptians ruthlessly imposed upon the Israelites the various labors that they made them perform. Ruthlessly, they made life bitter for them with harsh labor at mortar and bricks and with all sorts of tasks in the field” (Exod 1:13–14). In effect, Haman exploited the ambiguity of his words to the king, only to specify in the actual decree “to destroy, massacre, and exterminate.” In Craig’s words: “Haman, from behind the mask, does not want the king to take an active role in the genocide.” 12 A Sybarite content to enjoy his wealth and honor, Ahasuerus could easily accept a scheme that had economic merit. Haman felt that, by deliberately employing doublespeak and ambiguity, he could dupe the king into supporting his genocidal policies. 13 that the sum mentioned by Haman was “a gross exaggeration, his intention being much money” (Hakham, Esther, 25 n. 13). 10.  Fox notes the haste in Haman’s words (“to destroy,” with no elaboration), as follows: “Haman slips it in offhandedly, then hurries on to the monetary inducement” (Character, 51). 11.  Compare S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure (SBLDS 44; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979) 101–3. It must be emphasized that ‘I shall weigh’ (‫)אשקל‬ is not identical with ‘I shall pay’ (‫)אשלם‬, despite the impression created by certain translations (such as “And I will pay ten thousand talents of silver”—J. D. Levenson, Esther [OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997] 69; jps; kjv; nau). One may “weigh out” silver to the kingdom even if the silver does not come from the private account of the “weigher.” See also Haupt, “Critical Notes,” 130. 12. K. Craig, Reading Esther: A Case for the Literary Carnivalesque (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1995) 113. Malbim proposes a similar interpretation: The second aspect of his trickery was that he did not tell [Ahasuerus] that he wished to wipe them out, only to destroy them. This could be most simply understood as destroying their national identity, i.e., their religion—to nullify their religion and to force them to observe the religions of the other nations, or other such ideas, that they should conspire to disrupt the dealings of that nation, their laws and their customs. [Thus] Ahasuerus never intended slaughter or killing. (Rabbi Meir Leibush, Esther [Brooklyn: Institute for the Publication of Malbim’s Works, 2010]; see his commentary on 3:15; also on 4:7 and 8:4.) 13.  See further my “Edicts of Haman and the Vineyard of Naboth,” Megadim 30 (1999) 49–66 [Heb.].

Did the King Know of Haman’s Decree?

101

Recall that Haman’s decree against Mordecai is analogous to Ahasuerus’s against Vashti. 14 The present discussion adds another layer to their correlation: just as Memucan suggests Vashti’s demotion without proposing a particular mode of removal or overtly recommending any type of physical harm, Haman makes an ambiguous proposal, recommending only that the Jews not be “tolerated” or ‘left in their place’ (‫ )להניחם‬without telling Ahasuerus how he plans to achieve his aims. The narrative elliptically repeats Haman’s proposal in two other places— vwhen Mordecai informs Esther of the decree and when Esther informs the king—which both reinforce the sense of deception created in the first telling.

Mordecai Tells Esther (4:7–8) The message that Mordecai sends to Esther via Hathach contains three pieces of information and a request that Esther go before the king (4:7–8): •  Mordecai told him •  all that had happened to him, •  and all about the money that Haman had offered to pay into the royal treasury for the destruction of the Jews. •  He also gave him the written text of the law that had been proclaimed in Shushan for their destruction—to show it to Esther and inform her and charge her to go to the king and to appeal to him and to plead with him for her people. We may reasonably posit that the first bit of information (“all that had happened to him”) refers to the personal conflict between Mordecai and Haman, which instigated the succeeding events. 15 Similarly, the third bit of information requires no special explanation: Mordecai showed Esther the published decree of annihilation. The second piece, however, poses some difficulties. One would imagine that Mordecai’s concern lies with the threat to Jewish survival and not with Haman’s means of gaining the king’s acquiescence. Though some commentators have suggested that the mention of the money reinforces “the maliciousness of Haman’s plan,” 16 I fail to understand how emphasizing the monetary dimension renders a decree of genocide more malicious than otherwise. It seems more plausible that, by drawing attention to the discrepancy between Haman’s proposal and his decree, Mordecai indicated the approach that Esther should take with the king. Though the narrator gives no indication what made Mordecai privy to the ostensibly secret conversation between Haman and Ahasuerus, he sidesteps the issue by introducing the 14.  See my discussion of 3:2 on pp. 89–90; also: Levenson, Esther, 73. 15.  Hakham, Esther, 31; Levenson, Esther, 79 (he also suggests that Mordecai here represents the nation as a whole); Berlin, Esther, 47. 16. Ibid.

102

Chapter 7

scene by saying: “When Mordecai learned all that had happened, . . .” This innocent statement informs the reader that Mordecai had access to even the most confidential information in the palace;  17 his disclosure of the assassination plot (2:21–23) did not exhaust his supply of secrets.  18 Furthermore, Mordecai’s message to Esther manifests a subtle discrepancy between “the amount of money that Haman had offered (‫ )אמר‬to pay into the royal treasury for the destruction (‫ )לאבדם‬of the Jews” and “he also gave him the written text of the law that had been proclaimed (‫ )ניתן‬in Shushan for their destruction (‫)להשמידם‬.” Thus, Mordecai’s statement highlights the difference between Haman’s ambiguous speech to Ahasuerus and his unequivocally genocidal proclamation.

Esther Tells Ahasuerus (7:3–4) The second repetition, in which Esther informs the king of Haman’s decree (chap. 7), raises a number of difficulties. Esther forcefully expresses herself in opposition to the decree and its sponsor (“the adversary and enemy”) instead of attempting reconciliation, compromise, bribery, or another diplomatic solution. Furthermore, on hearing Esther’s plea, Haman immediately begins to beg for his life. However, instead of beseeching the king, whose closest adviser he had been, he addresses Esther, whose murder he had unknowingly sanctioned. Of all the odd reactions in this scene, however, the king’s stands out as the most perplexing. He acts as if he knew nothing of the decree (“Who is he and where is he who dared to do this?”), despite the fact that it bears his seal. To emphasize the king’s surprise and anger, the narrator has him stammer a response: “King Ahasuerus said, he said to Queen Esther” (7:5). 19 Ibn 17. This hint also finds expression in the unusual form of the sentence, beginning with the subject: “U-Mordecai yada (‫ ”)ומרדכי ידע‬instead of “Va-yada Mordecai (‫)וידע מרדכי‬.” This change encourages the reader to deduce that Mordecai had some prior knowledge that was not based on Haman’s sending of the letters (Hakham, Esther, 29). 18.  As implied by Fox, Character, 60. 19.  The repetition of the verb has led many scholars to change the wording here (following the example of the Septuagint). Some have defined it as an example of dittography (Moore, Esther, 68) or as a scribal error (G. Gerleman, Esther [BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973] 121), while others have defined it in gentler terms as “strange” (A. Meinhold, Das Buch Esther [ZBK; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1983] 65). For other approaches and a discussion of the subject, see Bush, Esther, 428–29. An acceptable proposal emends the first verb to va-yemaher. “King Ahasuerus made haste and said to Queen Esther . . .” (Ehrlich, Ringren). However, as noted, there is no need for any emendation; the repetition should be regarded as part of the literary expression of the king’s astonishment, as proposed, for example, by H. Striedl, “Untersuchung zur Syntax und Stilistik des hebräischen Buches Esther,” ZAW 14 (1937) 106; W. Dommershausen, Die Estherrolle: Stil und Ziel einer alttestamentlicher Schrift (SBM 6; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1968) 95; Meinhold, Esther, 65, note 19, and the sources mentioned in the following note. In Bush’s view, the repetition is meant to “delay” (Bush, Esther, 432). Note also that jps 1985 renders:

Did the King Know of Haman’s Decree?

103

Ezra comments: “’King Ahasuerus said, he said’—twice, showing that the king immediately grew angry, and in his great anger he said, ‘Who is he?’” 20 Given the king’s assent to Haman’s decree, his subsequent shock poses a difficulty. Attempts to resolve this problem fall into three basic groups: 1. The king was surprised that the decree applied to Esther and her people. Since Esther hid her identity from the king (2:10, 20), he never learned that she belonged to the people marked for annihilation. 21

2. Consistent with the narrator’s caricature of Ahasuerus as a “drunk, foolish king,” Ahasuerus simply forgot about the decrees that Haman had proposed. 22 3. The king actually knows “who is he and where is he” but feigns ignorance and surprise in order to distance himself from the decree. None of these approaches truly fits the manner in which the narrator shapes the scene or develops the plot. Regarding the first approach, the king’s reaction relates to the identity of the enemy of Esther’s people, not to Esther’s identity as a Jew. 23 If it were related to Esther’s identity as a Jew, the reader would expect the king to stammer, in his wrath, “Are you, then, a Jew?!” or something similar. Instead, the king’s surprise relates to the identity of the decree’s perpetrator: “Who is he and where is he who dared to do this?” It seems that the king does not imagine for a moment that he assented to this decree and that the man “who dared to do this” is, in fact, Haman. Tg. Esther I expands the king’s question, highlighting the king’s incredulous shock: “Who is he and where is he—the brazen, guilty, and

“Thereupon King Ahasuerus demanded of Queen Esther,” completely smoothing over the redundancy (similar: nab, nau, and niv). 20.  Ibn Ezra on Esth 7:5. Similarly, Hakham, Esther, 45; Berlin, Esther, 68. 21.  Moreover, Haman, in his proposal to the king, never mentioned the identity of the targeted nation. Weiser suggests this as the source of the king’s surprise: “The king perceives Haman’s deviousness in hiding from him the name of the dispersed nation, and understands the plight that has befallen it” (A. Weiser, “Megillat Esther,” in Sefer Korngrin [ed. A. Weiser and B. Luriah; Tel Aviv: Israel Society for Biblical Research, 1964] 136) and, similarly, Clines, Esther, 295. 22.  The narrative gives no indication how much time elapsed between the sending of the letters and Esther’s second party and subsequent hanging of Haman. We know that Esther fasted for three days before approaching the king, and another day elapsed between the first and second parties. Thus, at least four days had elapsed. However, before Mordecai sent a copy of the decree to Esther, we read: “In every province that the king’s command and decree reached, there was great mourning among the Jews, with fasting, weeping, and wailing, and everybody lay in sackcloth and ashes” (4:3). It is possible that the letters were sent off and publicized without Esther’s hearing of it and that it took the couriers several weeks to reach the most far-flung regions of the empire. Hence, it appears that about a month passed between the sending of the letters and the hanging of Haman. See also Levenson, Esther, 103 [his third suggestion]. 23. Compare Fox, Character, 85–86.

104

Chapter 7

rebellious man who dared to do this?” 24 From the king’s words, “[i]t is also clear that he has no memory whatsoever, at least not at this moment, of Haman’s insidious plot against the Jews or of his own part in it.” 25 Moreover, the continuation of the scene does not support an interpretation of the king’s shock that relates to his discovery of Esther’s ethnicity. After all, Haman could not be expected to know Esther’s Jewishness any more than the king himself does. However, this approach understands Haman’s sentence to hang from the gallows as a punishment, at least in part, for his plot against Esther! Traitors and rebels deserved to hang, not trusted advisers who made innocent mistakes. 26 It seems similarly unlikely that the drunk king forgot about the decree to which he had previously agreed. Had this been the case, the reader would expect Haman to plead for his life to the king and to remind him of their secret conversation and of the king’s acquiescence to Haman’s plan. Instead, Haman turned to Esther when he “saw that the king had resolved to destroy him” (7:7). The king’s reaction and Haman’s response do not support the theory that the king suffered some type of memory lapse. As noted previously, the narrative’s structure, reflected both in the king’s stammered response and in his sudden departure indicates the shock experienced by the king on hearing Esther’s words. Many scholars note that the narrator provides no explanation for the king’s exit and offer their own explanations for the purpose of his behavior in shaping the narrative. 27 Nevertheless, the narrator does provide a glimpse into the king’s mental state as he storms out of the banquet: “The king, in his fury, left the wine feast for the palace garden” (7:7). 28 Bush points out that the king’s fury is evident from Haman’s perspective as well: “he saw that the king had resolved to destroy him” (7:7). 29 The narrator highlights the king’s wrath 24.  Note also the different translations of the passage: ‘presumed’ versus ‘dared’ to do this. 25.  Bush, Esther, 432. 26.  Some scholars agree that the king cannot punish Haman for the actual decree and conclude that the punishment meted out to him is for his falling on the couch on which Esther is lying (such as, for example, Clines, Esther, 313). According to the suggested reading discussed above, the king punishes Haman for the actual writing of the letters since, from the king’s point of view, he is not party to them. 27.  For example, and in accordance with n. 26: in order to sentence Haman to the noose, he must be convicted of a more serious crime than writing the letters that the king himself signed. In order for the image of Haman falling on Esther’s couch to materialize, the king must be removed from the scene (L. H. Brockington, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther [NCB; London: Thomas Nelson, 1969] 239; Moore, Esther, 71; Clines, Esther, 312, etc.). 28.  In contrast to Fox’s reading, according to which the king remembers and knows that he signed the decree, he therefore goes out to the palace garden at a loss: “The king certainly cannot handle this predicament on the spot” (Fox, Character, 86). 29.  Bush, Esther, 430. Some readers may associate this expression (“he saw that the king had resolved to destroy him”) with the words of Nabal’s attendant to Abigail: “Harm threatens our master and all his household” (1 Sam 25:17). In our instance, however, in

Did the King Know of Haman’s Decree?

105

both through his own objective description and through the eyes of a character, Haman. It seems very unlikely that the narrator would take pains to present the king’s shock and anger from multiple viewpoints if, ultimately, he was merely playacting. The simplest reading of this scene, therefore, takes the king’s shock and anger at face value. He sincerely did not know to what decree Esther alluded. Haman, therefore, pleaded for his life to Esther, rather than to the king. This sequence of events fits nicely with my earlier assumption about the serious discrepancy between the king’s impression of Haman’s plan and the actual plan as enshrined by the decree of annihilation. 30 In order to bring about Haman’s downfall, it was not sufficient for Esther to reveal the discrepancy between Haman’s speech and his deed; the king fully trusted Haman when Esther formulated her plan. She devised to undermine the king’s faith in Haman by inviting both of them to private parties. 31 As we will see below, the king’s sleeplessness and Haman’s suggestion for rewarding the man whom the king wished to honor further undermined the basis of Haman’s relationship with the king. Having successfully undermined the king’s faith in Haman, Esther presented her case at the second party. When the fateful moment arrived, Esther specifically emphasized the discrepancy between what the king agreed to and what Haman actually decreed: “For we have been sold, my people and I, to be destroyed, massacred, and exterminated. Had we only been sold as bondmen and bondwomen, I would have kept silent; for the adversary is not worthy of the king’s trouble” (7:4). Esther’s artful plea seals Haman’s fate. While pretending innocence (after all, the king surely did not suspect that Esther knew of his private conversation with Haman), she allows the king to continue believing in the soundness and morality of his own judgment. He agreed to exploit the people economically, a fate that, as Esther indirectly informed him, would have met with her silence, for the affliction of her nation would not have equaled the king’s damage. Haman, however, acted behind the king’s back and condemned the people to annihilation and slaughter. 32 Through her short plea, Esther created a foreground of disparity between a decree of contrast to the story of David and Nabal—where Abigail intervenes and appeases David— the intervener in Haman’s case (Harbonah) serves only to exacerbate the king’s anger, and an evil end indeed awaits Haman. 30.  Therefore, scholars who describe Ahasuerus’s asking “Who is he and where is he?” as ironic are correct, for Haman is right in front of him. At the same time, we may describe this image as “artificial, dramatic irony” (rather than situational irony), since the king’s ignorance is the result of Haman’s misleading him (based on G. G. Sedgwick’s definitions in “The Irony of Sophocles,” in King Oedipus and Sophocles: The Creation and Its Creator [ed. D. Gilula; Jerusalem: Keter, 1991] 75 [Heb.]). 31. See b. Meg. 15b. 32. Similarly, Carol Meyers suggests: “Perhaps, because Esther mentions an alternative scenario—that the order might have been to enslave the Jews rather than annihilate

106

Chapter 7

enslavement and a decree of genocide, thereby driving a wedge between Haman and the king despite the royal seal that adorned the proclamation. 33 By introducing Esther’s plea with the words “for we have been sold” and then heightening the suspense by presenting the words “my people and I” before the final revelation of the diabolical nature of this “sale,” the narrator creates an ironic twist that reflects Ahasuerus’s surprise. When Esther laments the sale of her people, the reader (along with Ahasuerus) expects that the nature of this sale, like all sales, pertains to the economic sphere. 34 After a slight delay, Esther reveals that her people were sold “to be destroyed, massacred, and exterminated” before stating that enslavement would not have warranted her protest. Both overtly and covertly, Esther exposes the discrepancy between servitude and genocide. Haman understood the pointlessness of trying to plead his case to the king, who has just been made aware that he has been deceived, and instead begs Esther for his life. 35 From this perspective, the dialogue between Esther and Ahasuerus in chap. 8 also assumes new significance. Esther asked the king to nullify Haman’s edict: “If it please Your Majesty, and if I have won your favor and the proposal seems right to Your Majesty, and if I am pleasing to you—let dispatches be written countermanding those which were written by Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite, embodying his plot to annihilate the Jews throughout the king’s provinces” (8:5). Esther made a carefully worded appeal to have the decree rescinded. On one hand, she emphasized that the decree was “written by Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite,” making him the guilty party. 36 At the same time, however, she uses the same expression, ‘to annihilate’ (‫)לאבד‬, that misled the king in the first place. By doing so, she (or the narrator in Esther’s voice) assigns some responsibility for the genocidal decree to the king. Though duped and misled, the king them—he had thought he was authorizing a servitude plan” (“Esther,” in The Oxford Bible Commentary [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001] 328). 33.  Therefore, Esther’s words should not be regarded as “constructing the hypothetical threat of slavery—certainly a grave matter, but one that appears trivial in light of the real threat of death” (Berlin, Esther, 66). The decree of slavery, more than a hypothetical construct of Esther’s imagination, actually represents the decree that the king believes he issued. 34.  Moore, Esther, 70; Bush, Esther, 432 (“idiom with a double entendre”); Berlin, Esther, 66. Levenson (Esther, 102) quotes, in the context of this verse, the following verse from Neh 5:8—“I said to them: We have redeemed our brothers, the Jews who were sold to the nations, to the extent that we were able; will you then also sell your brothers, or shall they be sold to us? And they were silent, and found no answer.” 35.  “It is ironic, but perhaps inevitable, that Haman does not follow the outraged king into the garden, and therefore that he turns to plead for his life with one whom he had previously contrived to condemn to death” (W. J. Fuerst, The Five Scrolls [CBC; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1975] 75). 36.  Berlin, Esther, 74 (in contrast to Fox: “this time Esther is not going against a man only, but also against the administrative apparatus, the legal axioms, and the organization of the kingdom itself”—Fox, Character, 93).

Did the King Know of Haman’s Decree?

107

Table 7.1.  Comparison of Haman’s and Jezebel’s Letters Esther 3:12–13 The orders were issued in the name of King Ahasuerus and sealed with the king’s signet written instructions were dispatched by couriers to all the king’s provinces.

1 Kings 21:8 So she wrote letters in Ahab’s name and sealed them with his seal and sent the letters to the elders.

approved the edict of annihilation; Esther expects the king to expiate his guilt by revoking the decree. Ahasuerus, however, avoids Esther’s trap by changing her words: “I have given Haman’s property to Esther, and he has been hanged on the gallows for scheming against the Jews” (8:7). The king intimates that Haman was hanged for scheming against the Jews, a crime for which the king, despite Esther’s veiled criticism, takes no responsibility. In addition to Esther’s criticism, the reader will likely take a dim view even of the relatively “minor” decree of selling an entire innocent nation into servitude. Through the now familiar method of single reference, the narrator also passes moral judgment on Ahasuerus’s role in the decree. The narrator refers the reader to the story of Ahab and the vineyard of Naboth (1  Kings 21), linking the letters dispatched by Haman in Ahasuerus’s name to the letters sent by Jezebel in the name of her husband, Ahab (see table 7.1). 37 In this parallel, Ahasuerus’s ignorance of the exact content of Haman’s decree corresponds to Ahab’s remaining unaware of Jezebel’s actions against Naboth, even though she dispatches letters in his name and stamps them with his seal. Through this device, the narrator links his moral judgment of Ahasuerus with judgment of Ahab. In the Vineyard of Naboth narrative, prophetic message and artistic shape converge to deliver a surprising verdict, given the degree of active participation by the various characters. The formal composition of the narrative highlights the discrepancy between the initial omniscient narration 37.  Zakovitch notes the connection between the writing of the letters in Esther and the writing of the letters by Jezebel. He compares the language describing the dispatch of the letters by Mordecai and Esther (8:9–10) and those of Jezebel, emphasizing the difference between Mordecai, who obtains the king’s permission before writing, and Jezebel, who writes without her husband’s knowledge. (Y. Zakovitch, “Kerem Haya le-Naboth,” in The Bible and Modern Literary Theory [ed. M. Weiss; 3rd ed.; Jerusalem: Bialik, 1987] 356; as well as Berlin, Esther, 76). Another scene from Esther is shaped in light of the dialogue between Ahab and Jezebel in the story of the vineyard of Naboth: the scene in which Haman returns home, and Zeresh, his wife, and all his close associates suggest that he build a gallows and hang Mordecai on it (Esth 5:14). We shall address this literary connection below.

108

Chapter 7

of the narrative and its retelling by the prophet, including his unexpected judgment. The first part of the narrative follows a concentric structure: 38 A.  Ahab on Naboth’s vineyard: “Give me your vineyard . . . if you prefer, I will pay you the price in money” (1 Kgs 21:2)   B.  Jezebel to Ahab: “Jezebel said to him. . . . Rise (‫ )קום‬and eat something, and be cheerful” (21:7)    C.  Jezebel to elders: “She wrote . . . and sent the letters to the elders . . . stone him to death” (21:8–9)     D.  Elders regarding Naboth: fictitious trial and Naboth’s execution (21:11–13)    C′.  Elders to Jezebel: “Word was sent to Jezebel. . . . Naboth has been stoned to death” (21:14)   B′.  Jezebel to Ahab: “Go (‫ )קום‬and take possession of the vineyard which Naboth . . .” (21:15) A′.  Ahab with regard to Naboth’s vineyard: “Ahab set out for the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite to take possession of it” (21:16)

This structure emphasizes the various levels of involvement of the characters in this terrible incident. In the outer framework of the story (A–A′), we find Ahab, who has no idea whatsoever of Jezebel’s plan to kill Naboth. Closer to the murder of Naboth, we find Jezebel resolving her husband’s problem (B–B′) while herself organizing the “dirty work” vis-à-vis the elders (C–C′). She orchestrates the murder but does not actually participate in it. At the center of the narrative (D), we find the elders, who murder an innocent man with their own hands. However, as the reader moves on to the second part of the narrative, the prophetic judgment of its characters, he discovers, surprisingly, that the harshness of the prophet’s judgment relates inversely to the degree of participation in the actual crime. Ahab withstands the worst of the rebuke (“Would you murder and take possession? . . . In the very place where the dogs lapped up Naboth’s blood, the dogs will lap up your blood too. . . . I will bring disaster upon you. I will make a clean sweep of you. I will cut off from Israel every male belonging to Ahab, bond and free” [21:19, 21]). After his blazing condemnation of Ahab, the prophet briefly mentions Jezebel’s gruesome fate (“The Lord has also spoken concerning Jezebel: ‘The dogs shall devour Jezebel in the field of Jezreel’” [21:23]). The narrative contains no rebuke of the elders. Thus, the prophetic judgment places the principal blame on the king, despite his ignorance of the content of the letters sent in his name. Zakovitch sums up the significance of the narrative most succinctly: This narrative is not one of the Elijah narratives, nor a narrative showing the greatness of the prophet. Rather, it is a narrative that comes to teach 38.  For a similar explanation, see Zakovitch, Kerem, 356; Y. Amit, Reading Biblical Stories (Tel Aviv: The Israeli Ministry of Defense, 2000) 61–64.

Did the King Know of Haman’s Decree?

109

a moral lesson; it is a fable or parable about “a vineyard that belonged to . . . ,” with its moral: that a ruler’s responsibility extends to all actions that are undertaken in his name and by his authority, even if he seeks to ignore them and not to know about them. 39

By describing Haman’s dispatch of letters in the same language used to describe the dispatch of letters by Jezebel, the narrator reminds the reader of the prophet’s unequivocal judgment of the characters in the Naboth narrative. By comparing Ahasuerus with Ahab, the narrator implicates Ahasuerus in any misuse of royal license, even if duped or unaware. We may therefore conclude about Ahasuerus that “the ruler’s responsibility extends to all actions that are undertaken in his name and by his authority.”

The King, Haman, and the “City of Shushan” (3:15) Summarizing the dissemination of the decree of annihilation, the author contrasts the activity of Ahasuerus and Haman with the feeling among the people of Shushan: “The king and Haman sat down to feast, but the city of Shushan was dumfounded” (3:15). The image of the king and his closest adviser enjoying a nightcap seems to contribute nothing to the plot; rather, it directs the reader to contrast Ahasuerus and Haman with the rest of the city. They seal the fate of an entire nation and then “fiddle while Rome burns,” highlighting their cruelty or infuriating apathy. The sensitive reader may hear echoes of Joseph’s brothers’ sitting down to break bread immediately after throwing him into an empty pit (Gen 37:25) or of Jehu’s eating and drinking immediately after killing Jezebel (2 Kgs 9:34). 40 In addition to the light it sheds on their character, the private banquet of Haman and Ahasuerus leaves the reader with the impression that Haman feels supremely confident in his plan, enough to begin celebrating. The king 39.  Zakovitch, Kerem, 371. This narrative may be viewed alongside the crime and punishment of Adam in the Garden of Eden: he ate of the forbidden fruit because his wife tempted him but was held responsible for his actions. This parallel enhances the acute sensitivity to the ruler’s responsibility in the case of Ahab, more than in the story of the Garden of Eden, for Adam ultimately ate of the fruit out of free choice, while Ahab had no knowledge (even after the fact!) of Naboth’s murder. 40.  Levenson also comments on the connection to Joseph’s brothers (Esther, 76). A reader who is not comfortable with the inclusion of Jehu in this list—since he had, after all, carried out God’s word by killing Jezebel and the prophets of Baal—is invited to read “The Story of Jehu and the Matter of the Double Message” by I. Rosenson (Megadim 25 [1996] 111–24 [Heb.]). Rosenson skillfully analyzes the ambivalence in the evaluation of Jehu. On this matter, see also: B. Uffenheimer, Ancient Prophecy in Israel ( Jerusalem: Magnes, 1984) 251–58; J. Grossman, Ambiguity in the Biblical Narrative and Its Contribution to Literary Formation (Ph.D. diss., Bar-Ilan University, 2006) 270–74 [Heb.]. Regarding the concept of eating and drinking as representing “hard-hearted indifference to the suffering of others,” see U. Simon, Literary Reading of the Bible: Prophetic Narratives ( Jerusalem: Bialik / Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University, 1997) 243.

110

Chapter 7

and Haman’s act of “sitting” to enjoy their feast while the messengers rush out to relay the decree reflects the ruler’s apathy to the murderous decree he just signed. The narrator emphasizes this tension by describing the opposing actions of each party. The messengers “ran” out while the king and Haman “sat down to feast”: The couriers went out posthaste on the royal mission, and the decree was proclaimed in the fortress Shushan.

The king and Haman sat down to feast, but the city of Shushan was dumfounded.”

In contrast to the king and Haman, the people of Shushan (or, more accurately, the “city of Shushan”) are “dumbfounded.” This metonymy indicates that the general confusion extended to all of the city’s inhabitants, not just the Jewish inhabitants. 41 This description provides a glimpse into the mind-set of the Persian citizens closest to the seat of power; they also found the decree bizarre and perplexing. 42 As Berlin explains: “The city of Shushan serves as a kind of chorus, as it were, reinforcing the decree and its effect.” 43 Perhaps the inhabitants would eventually become accustomed to and even favor the annihilation of the Jews. Initially, however, Shushanite opposition to the genocide seems to be widespread. Once the narrator takes the reader outside the palace walls, away from the perspective of Haman and the king, he sees trouble, consternation, and a sense that the people deem this decree, though terrible, as ridiculous. 41.   Some scholars maintain that the narrator refers specifically to the Jews of Shushan (as, for example, in the Geneva Bible’s notes on this verse. See also Levenson, Esther, 76–77). However, the narrator in Esther usually specifies when he refers to the Jews of Shushan (“Assemble all the Jews who live in Shushan” [4:16]; “The Jews in Shushan gathered” [9:18], etc.). Here the emphasis is deliberately on all the inhabitants of the city, as noted by Fox (Character, 55). 42.  The Hebrew term ‫ נבוכה‬means ‘perplexed’ or ‘bewildered’ (BDB, 100), rather than, as sometimes suggested, angry or sad. This interpretation is based on two other texts in which the word is used: “They are astray in the land” (Exod 14:3); “The herds of cattle are bewildered” ( Joel 1:18). On the suggestion that the initial ‫ נ‬of ‫ נבוכה‬is a dittogram of the final ‫ נ‬of ‫שושן‬, see Haupt, “Critical Notes,” 132. 43. A. Berlin, Esther (jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001) 43.

Chapter 8

The Secret Turning Point (Esther 4) Without Clothes (4:1) From the general image of the perplexed city of Shushan, the narrator moves to the specific reaction of Mordecai, which was quite out of place in this Persian setting. His appearance in sackcloth and ashes triggers Esther’s response, which results in their “Jewish dialogue.” Paradoxically, they converse through an interlocutor (Hathach)—another example of the narrator’s employing a “concealment” technique: absurdly, the closest and most intimate exchange in the entire narrative occurs through an intermediary because the parties cannot meet face to face. Nevertheless, the fragile interplay between distance and proximity of Mordecai and Esther develops through the scene, as we shall see presently. Before recounting Mordecai’s attempt to persuade Esther to confront the king, the narrator presents his own reaction and that of the Jews everywhere, to the decree: “When Mordecai learned all that had happened, Mordecai tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes. He went through the city, crying out loudly and bitterly” (4:1). The “great and bitter” combination appears in only one other place in the Bible, and there too it describes a pained cry. When Esau discovered that he had been cheated out of the blessings of his father, we read, “he burst into wild and bitter sobbing (‫צעקה‬ ‫( ”)גדלה ומרה‬Gen 27:34). 1 1.  The Hebrew phrase ‫ צעקה גדולה ומרה‬is common to both verses. Midr. Panim Aherot (version 2, chap. 4) explores this connection: “Crying loudly and bitterly”—at that time he put ashes upon his head and went to the gate of the king’s palace, but then turned back—”for one could not enter the palace gate wearing sackcloth . . . ,” etc. Was Mordecai then a simpleton, shouting like that? As if the Holy One, blessed be He, cannot hear whispers, but only shouts! Hannah prayed in her heart, and the Holy One heard her whispering, for as the text says—“Hannah was praying in her heart . . .” and what does it say there? “May the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him”! [The following, then, explains Mordecai’s behavior:] Mordecai cried out and said, “Isaac, my father, what have you done to me? When Esau cried out before you, you heard his voice and blessed him. We, here, are being sold for slaughter by the sword!” Therefore it is written, “Crying loudly and bitterly.”

111

112

Chapter 8

In Esther, allusions to the stolen blessing narrative abound and deserve a separate treatment. 2 In the context at hand, clothing plays an important role as a determinant of identity in both narratives. Clothing often possesses symbolic meaning in the Bible, and symbolism itself forms a cornerstone of the art of concealed writing. 3 This case is no exception. Esau lost his blessings because Jacob impersonated him by wearing his clothes, and Mordecai tore his clothes when he heard about the decree. As a result, Mordecai could not enter the palace gate, “for one could not enter the palace gate wearing sackcloth” (4:2). By rending his clothes, Mordecai forfeited his status in Persian society and his station in its regime in order to identify, through his nakedness and tatters, with the plight of the Jews. Esau “burst into wild and bitter sobbing” when his brother stole his identity and consequently the blessings he expected, whereas Mordecai cried a “loud and bitter cry” as he shed one national identity and returned to his original, primary Jewish identity. 4 In this sense, when Esther “sent clothing for Mordecai to wear” (4:4), she failed to acknowledge the change that has taken place inside him, attempting Marie Antoinette–like to resolve the immediate issue but failing to apprehend its broader significance. She addressed the superficial reason for Mordecai’s absence from the palace gate but remained oblivious to events transpiring outside. Esther’s ignorance of the decree draws veiled criticism from the narrator. Haman’s letters had been widely distributed: “in every province that the king’s command and decree reached, there was great mourning among the Jews, with fasting, weeping, and wailing, and everybody lay in sackcloth and ashes” (4:3), yet Esther, so close to the action, remained clueless until

2. Y. Shapira, A Postmodernist Reading of the Biblical Book of Esther: From Cultural Disintegration to Carnivalesque Text (Ph.D. diss., State University of New York, 1996) 144–50; J. Grossman, “‘Dynamic Analogies’ in the Book of Esther,” VT 59 (2009) 399–403. I shall treat this analogy extensively in the summary. 3. The motif of clothing as a reflection of identity and inner change is particularly prevalent in the stories of Joseph (V. H. Matthews, “The Anthropology of Clothing in the Joseph Narrative,” JSOT 65 [1993] 25–36) and in the stories of Saul and David (O. Prouser, “Clothes Maketh the Man: Keys to Meaning in the Stories of Saul and David,” Bible Review 14 [1998] 22–27). Gary Rendsburg points to the motif of changing clothing and washing, which pervades Ancient Near Eastern literature (and, he claims, the Bible), at the moment of the hero’s homecoming (“Notes on Genesis xxxv,” VT 34 [1984] 361–66). Symbolically speaking, we may view the Mordecai who changes his clothing as a man who has “returned home” (to his Jewish identity), which is not the king’s palace. 4.  Midr. Proverbs (parasha 26) connects these two figures in an interesting way: “From a person’s words you can know whether he likes you or hates you. For we find, in the case of the wicked Haman, that he speaks to Mordecai with his mouth, but hates him in his heart, as it is written: ‘Haman was filled with wrath against Mordecai.’ Likewise, ‘Esau said to himself: When the days of mourning for my father draw near, I shall kill Jacob, my brother.’”

The Secret Turning Point

113

her “maidens and eunuchs came and informed her” (4:4). 5 Furthermore, the queen’s reaction to the news seems completely inappropriate: first, “the queen was greatly agitated,” but then “she sent clothing for Mordecai to wear, so that he might take off his sackcloth” (4:5). Esther reacted with consternation to Mordecai’s fashion statement while remaining ignorant of the decree that provoked it. Although the reader understands Esther’s desire to see Mordecai back at the palace gate where she can meet him, in the wider context of the narrative—and in the symbolic context of rending a garment as an element in the process of repentance and a renewed relationship with God—her request seems out of place. Esther had become part of a Persian culture that emphasized external manifestations and part of a royalty that sought to display the vast riches of his kingdom and the splendid glory of his majesty. As Jon Levenson explains it, “The effect of verses 4–11 is thus to highlight the distance between Mordecai the Jew and Esther the Persian.” 6 Two more allusions to earlier prophecies of public fasting may contribute to the narrator’s reinforcement of the critical reading of Esther in this scene: “great mourning among the Jews, with fasting, weeping, and wailing, and everybody lay in sackcloth and ashes” (4:3). The expression ‘fasting, weeping, and lamenting’ (‫ )צום ובכי ומספד‬originates in Joel’s prophecy, as the threat of locusts lurks: “Yet even now”—says the Lord—”Turn back to Me with all your hearts, and with fasting, weeping, and lamenting” (‫)ובצום ובבכי ובמספד‬. Rend your hearts rather than your garments, and turn back to the Lord your God. For He is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger, abounding in kindness, and renouncing punishment. Who knows but He may turn and relent, and leave a blessing behind for meal offering and drink offering to the Lord your God? ( Joel 2:12–14) 7

As Moore points out, 8 the expression “everybody lay in sackcloth and ashes” refers to the prophecy of Isaiah: Is such the fast I desire, a day for men to starve their bodies? Is it bowing the head like a bulrush and lying in sackcloth and ashes? Do you call that a fast, a day when the Lord is favorable?” (Isa 58:5). 5.  See C. A. Moore, Esther (AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971) 52. 6.  J. D. Levenson, Esther (OTL; Lousiville: Westminster John Knox, 1997) 79. In Lubitch’s words: “How narrow-minded could she possible have been to send clothes for Mordecai before investigating the matter?” (R. Lubitch, “A Feminist’s Look at Esther,” Judaism 42 [1993] 440). 7.  Beal and Berg hint at this connection. (T. K. Beal, Esther [Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999] 66; S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure [SBLDS 44; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979] 52 n. 33). Compare “Who knows (‫)מי יודע‬ but He may turn and relent” ( Joel 2) with “And who knows (‫)ומי יודע‬, perhaps you have attained to royal position for just such a crisis” (Esth 4:14). 8.  Moore, Esther, 47.

114

Chapter 8

Both of these prophecies address the discrepancy between an inner process of repentance and its external manifestation. The prophets recognized the value of rent garments and the ritual weight of sitting in sackcloth but only when accompanied by an inwardly directed process or—as Isaiah emphasizes—ethical repentance. 9 Joel addressed the nation with harsh words, exhorting them: “Rend your hearts rather than your garments”—to remind them that repentance is a change of heart, not a change of clothes! Both of these prophecies address the classic tension between perfunctory observance and sincere change, between “clothing” and the heart. The narrator implicitly refers to both of them a moment before describing Esther’s horror at Mordecai’s new wardrobe. The narrator continues heaping criticism on Esther in this scene by referring to her by a unique epithet: “the queen was greatly agitated (‫)ותתחלחל‬.” 10 Throughout the story, the narrator consistently refers to Esther either as “Esther” or as “Queen Esther.” In two instances, however, she is called, simply, “the queen”: in the scene describing her reaction to Mordecai’s mourning 11 and in the scene of the second party for the king and Haman. There, the royal epithet expresses Haman’s viewpoint: “Haman cringed in terror before the king and the queen” (7:6) and later the king’s incredulity at Haman’s apparent advances toward the queen herself: “Does he mean to ravish the queen in my own palace?” (7:8). In the party scene, both references to Esther as the anonymous “queen” reflect her royal status alone, ignoring her personal identity. Returning to the clothing scene, the narrator indicates that Esther’s identity had become assimilated with her role as queen, at the expense of her Jewishness. In this sense, the physical distance between Mordecai and Esther also represents an existential distance. 12 Linda Day suggests that the emphasis 9.  See Fritz A. Rothschild, “Right and Ritual: Isaiah 58,” in Den Menschen zugewandt leben: Festschrift Fur Werner Licharz (ed. U. Lilienthal and L. Stiehm; Osnabrück: Secolo, 1999) 27–33. 10.  This verb (in this form) appears only this once in the entire Bible. In the Septuagint, it also appears in the description of the bewildered people of Shushan (3:15) and later on in Haman’s reaction (7:6). Laniak comments, most appropriately, that the translation thereby seeks to create a sense of Haman being punished “measure for measure”: just as he caused great shock among the Jews, and for Esther, so he ultimately suffered a shock himself (Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther [SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998] 76 n. 61). 11. “The use of ‫ המלכה‬instead of ‫ אסתר‬is intentional just us the omission of ‫המלכה‬ in 1:19 is designed” (P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 [1907–8] 134). Some translators have not been punctilious about the literal formulation of this verse, and as a result have lost the literary hint. Thus, for example, Levenson—ignoring Esther’s special title here—translates: “She was extremely agitated” (Esther, 77). In contrast, some versions have preserved the unusual title; for example, Moore: “The queen was quite shocked” (Esther, 45). 12.  For another example of this literary phenomenon, we may consider the way in which David faces Saul: “[He] stood afar on top of a hill; there was considerable distance

The Secret Turning Point

115

on the different physical locations of each character accents the changing authorities in this scene. The ruling king sits in the inner court; close by is Esther, who may need the king’s scepter to grant her permission to speak, but she is already within the gates of the inner court, prepared to approach the king; and Mordecai, in mourning, remains outside, powerless over the happenings within. 13 In my opinion, it is less the levels of authority here that the narrative wishes to express than pointing out in each character’s location a symbolic expression of his or her own psychological and emotional situation. Whereas Mordecai shed his Shushanite garb, Esther sought to reclothe him. Mordecai could not approach the palace gate in his state of mourning over the decree against the Jews, while Esther remained cloistered within the palace, unaware of the drama unfolding without.

Hathach’s Disappearance (4:1–15) Against this background, Mordecai and Esther conducted a dialogue via an intermediary whose very name may allude to his role in the plot (Hathach [‫‘—]התך‬the middle’ [‫)]תוך‬. 14 The conversation consists of three sections, as follows: 1. She sent clothing for Mordecai to wear, so that he might take off his sackcloth; but he refused. (4:4)

2. Thereupon Esther summoned Hathach . . . and sent him to Mordecai. . . . Hathach went out to Mordecai. . . . He also gave him the written text of the law that had been proclaimed in Shushan for their destruction. . . . He bade him show it to Esther and inform her, and charge her to go to the king and to appeal to him and to plead with him for her people. When Hathach came and delivered Mordecai’s message to Esther, Esther told Hathach to return to Mordecai with the following reply: “. . . I have not been summoned to visit the king for the last thirty days.” When Mordecai was told what Esther had said. . . .” (4:5–12) 3. Mordecai said to answer Esther: “. . . relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another quarter . . . Who knows, perhaps you have attained to royal position for just such a crisis.” Then Esther said to between them” (1 Sam 26:13). As Moses Garsiel comments, the geographical datum (“there was considerable distance between them”) represents more than just physical space; it also represents a distant relationship and suspicion of betrayal—it symbolizes the lack of faith in the possibility of a rapprochement between them (M. Garsiel, The First Book of Samuel: A Literary Study of Comparative Structures, Analogy and Parallels [Ramat Gan: Revivim, 1983] 137). 13.  L. M. Day, Esther (Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries; Nashville: Abingdon, 2005) 78. See also idem, Three Faces of a Queen: Characterization in the Book of Esther ( JSOTSup 186; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995) 62–63. 14.  This wordplay does not negate the Persian meaning of the name Hatach, which is ‘the good one’ (H. S. Gehman, “Notes on the Persian Words in the Book of Esther,” JBL 43 [1924] 321–28).

116

Chapter 8 answer Mordecai: “Go, assemble all the Jews who live in Shushan, and fast in my behalf; do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my maidens will observe the same fast. Then I shall go to the king, though it is contrary to the law; and if I am to perish, I shall perish!” (4:13–16) 15

In the first section, the characters do not converse at all; Esther sends clothing to Mordecai, not as a request or a suggestion, but as a matter of course, expecting Mordecai to wear them. Mordecai, for his part, simply refuses without any explanation. Had Mordecai desired to speak to Esther, nothing stopped him from temporarily donning the clothes she sent. However, as noted, Mordecai shed his Persian identity when he rent his clothes, and the time to return to that identity had not yet arrived. In the second section, Mordecai and Esther converse, but the role of their go-between, Hathach, who facilitates communication between the two estranged and distant parties, draws attention to itself. At this stage of the conversation, both Mordecai (“charge her to go to the king” [4:8]) and Esther (“Esther charged Hathach to take back to Mordecai the following reply” [4:10]) speak through commands. 16 Mordecai beseeches Esther to use her status to intervene with the king on behalf of the Jews, but Esther refuses out of fear for her life, especially in light of the king’s apparent momentary disfavor with Esther (“I have not been summoned to visit the king for the last thirty days” [4:11]). Esther’s refusal may also contain a barb directed at Mordecai: “All the king’s courtiers and the people of the king’s provinces know that if any person, man or woman, enters the king’s presence in the inner courtyard without having been summoned . . . there is but one law for him—that he be put to death” (4:11). Mordecai, who until now had been one of the “king’s servants,” ought to have been aware of the hazard of encouraging Esther to approach the king uninvited. 17 As noted, Hathach facilitates this conversation by running in and out of the palace carrying messages between the parties. By the end of this section, however, Hathach vanishes from the scene, and the narrator suddenly adopts a general formulation: “Mordecai was told what Esther had said.” Yet the narrator does not disclose the identity of the implied mediator (“Mordecai was told”). The reader will likely fill in this gap automatically, 15.  Jps 1985 translates in a manner that implies that they continue conversing through a go-between: “Mordechai has this message delivered to Esther.” The Hebrew text, however, does not imply an intermediary. 16.  “Concurrent with this step, she ‘commands’ Hathach to go to Mordecai. When she sent her servants to Mordecai earlier she must have ‘commanded’ them, but only now is this keyword used in connection with her” (M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther [2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001] 59). 17.  These are Esther’s first “lines” in the narrative (Meyers, Esther, 328). Not coincidentally, this scene also represents the first time that Esther assumes responsibility for the fate of the Jews. See below.

The Secret Turning Point

117

continuing to regard Hathach as the messenger. 18 Although the Septuagint version of Esther translates here, “Achratheus [Hatach] reported to Mordochaeus [Mordecai] all the words of Esther,” and Haupt and Moore both adopt this version of the verse, 19 for our purposes it is irrelevant, because in any case, later on in Esther and Mordecai’s conversation, Hatach disappears. Nevertheless, the disappearance of Hathach’s name is noteworthy. The completion of Hathach’s effacement characterizes the third section of the conversation, in which the narrator ignores any go-between. The omission of Hathach, beginning in the middle of the dialogue, requires explanation. His disappearance so disturbed the ancient rabbis that they posited Hathach’s execution at the hands of Haman when he got wind of his errands: “When Haman saw Hathach entering and leaving [the palace], he assaulted him and killed him. It is for this reason that he is not mentioned again” (Midr. Abba Gurion 4). The narrator indeed “does away with” Hathach. Alternatively, Linda Day suggests that there were other mediators in addition to Hatach who assisted him in delivering the messages (see v. 4). 20 This suggestion is difficult because the narrator reveals to us in v. 10 that Esther sent this message through Hatach. The linguistic change in v. 12 is not connected to the plot but to the literary style. We must therefore conclude that Hathach fulfills his literary role by disappearing. By inserting Hathach as a necessary interlocutor and then phasing him out, the narrator focuses the reader’s attention on Hathach’s effacement. The narrator introduces Hathach as “one of the eunuchs whom the king had appointed to serve [Esther]” (4:5). He represents the norms of the Shushanite royalty. In the first part of their conversation, Mordecai and Esther engage, through the medium of Hathach, in Persian-Shushanite discourse. The discussion remains free of any ethnic identity, focusing instead on Esther’s political clout and fear of wielding this sort of influence. In the third segment, the conversation moves to an altogether different plane. Mordecai mentions—if only in a veiled reference—God’s providence over his nation: “relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another quarter” (4:14), 21 and God’s intervention in the fate of individuals: “who knows, perhaps you have attained to royal position for just such a

18. Raphael Breuer’s suggestion seems unlikely: “Esther sought to support her words by means of direct testimony of these ‘servants of the king.’ Hathach himself must certainly have been glad of his exchange” (Megillat Esther Im Peirush Meʾet ha-Rav Raphael Breuer [trans. Z. Breuer; Jerusalem: Koren, 1996] 37). 19.  Haupt, “Critical Notes,” 136; Moore, Esther, 50. 20.  Day, Esther, 87. 21.  It is a different matter to understand the expression ‫ מקום אחר‬as a reference to God (the name ‫ מקום‬as a reference to God only became common during the rabbinic era). The simple meaning is that salvation will somehow come about through someone else (Fox, Character, 63). Nevertheless, Mordecai’s certainty that salvation will come indicates that he has faith in God’s providence over his nation.

118

Chapter 8

crisis” (4:14). 22 His answer also contains a veiled criticism of Esther’s previous excuse. She evades approaching the king by saying: “All the king’s courtiers and the people of the king’s provinces know. . . .” In response, Mordecai undermines Esther’s knowledge: “Who knows . . . ?” Mordecai intimates that it will behoove Esther to concern herself with Divine providence rather than the king’s law. Esther also moves to a different position—a position that is foreign to the norms of the Persian palace. In striking contrast to the constant eating, drinking, and merrymaking throughout the narrative, Esther calls a fast: “Fast in my behalf; do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my maidens will observe the same fast” (4:16). In declaring a fast, Esther identifies with the Jews who have been fasting since the beginning of the chapter. Not coincidentally, Esther emphasizes abstention from both eating and drinking, the latter greatly contrasting with the Shushanite lifestyle. At this stage of the conversation, Esther openly mentions her willingness to violate the laws of Persia: “I shall go to the king, though it is contrary to the law” (4:16). These words testify to a profound psychological shift: at the beginning of the dialogue, Esther feared violating the capital crime of appearing before the king uninvited. By the end of the conversation, however, Esther expresses readiness to sacrifice her life for the sake of her people: “If I am to perish (‫)אבדתי‬, I shall perish” (4:16). Esther uses the same verb that Haman used when seeking approval for the destruction of the Jews (“let an edict be drawn for their destruction [‫ )”]לאבדם‬and risks her own destruction in order to spare the people this same fate. Hathach’s disappearance thus corresponds with Esther’s change of heart and symbolizes the suspension of the norms of the Persian palace. Once the dialogue between Mordecai and Esther becomes an inner-Jewish dialogue, the king’s eunuch can no longer serve as their intermediary. Metaphorically speaking, we may suggest that their language of discourse could no longer be translated into Persian! Hathach was no longer privy to a conversation he could not understand; Mordecai and Esther spoke, as it were, without intermediaries. From the moment that Hatach disappears, Mordecai and Esther address one another in second person. This sort of

22. This is the simple interpretation of Mordecai’s words. Rashi uncharacteristically departs from the literal meaning and views Mordecai’s words as a tactical statement, referring to the possibility of beseeching the king later in the year (‫‘ לעת כזאת‬at such a time’), before the decree is carried out: “‘Who knows if at such a time you reached . . .’—Who knows if the king will seek you out in a year’s time, which is the [appointed] time for the killing. ‘At such a time’—For they were now in Nissan, and the appointed time for killing was in Adar of the next year. ‘You reached royal status’—if you will reach the same greatness that you now embody” (Rashi on Esth 4:14). For a discussion of this verse and the exegetical difficulties that it raises, see, for example: L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 224–25; Levenson, Esther, 81–82.

The Secret Turning Point

119

exchange between these two characters does not occur in any other place in the entire book. In a sense, chap. 4 stands out like an island in the middle of a Persian river that flows from the beginning of the narrative to its end. 23 Mordecai and Esther stand alone on this island, unexpectedly discussing matters of Divine providence and mortal self-sacrifice. This scene comes closest to undoing God’s concealment, so carefully guarded by the narrator; the God of Israel comes very close to exposure, even without mention of his name: “In Act IV of the impending tragedy the God of the Jews is not on stage, nor is his name even mentioned. He is, however, standing in the wings, following the play and encouraging the actors, or so at least the references to sackcloth and ashes and fasting seem to suggest.” 24 However, it is not only from the literary perspective that the reader may view this chapter as the antithesis of the narrative’s general atmosphere of inebriation. From a moral perspective as well, this chapter represents a real turning point. When Mordecai stated, “Relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another quarter,” he had no privileged information. Had Esther succumbed to her fears, perhaps salvation would never have arrived. The pace of the narrative and the development of its plot indicate that the salvation of the Jews indeed depended on Esther’s decision and her courage. From the author’s point of view, God prepared the ground for the impending redemption and arranged a solution even before the problem had arisen. By the time Haman published his decree, Esther had been chosen queen, and Mordecai had demonstrated his loyalty to the king by reporting the plot fabricated by Bigthan and Teresh. However, these developments would not bring redemption unless Esther took up the gauntlet. When she agreed to confront the king (through clever planning, as we shall see), she fit herself into the narrative’s concealed Divine providence. Redemption could occur only when divine planning intersected with human initiative. 25 In other words, the concealed writing of the narrative, indicating the hidden movements underlying the reality described in the text, suddenly corroborated the plain meaning of the text instead of countering it. In this chapter, Esther underwent a transformation. It began with the narrator’s subtle criticism of Esther for her assimilation to the norms of the palace. By the end, Hadassah, Queen Esther’s hidden Jewish identity, had come to the fore, expressing self-sacrifice for the sake of her people. Esther’s proclaiming a fast for her people testified to not only a change of garment but a change of heart. As discussed in the introduction, the process that Esther underwent in this scene seems to detour from the nearby narrative context—Mordecai’s 23.  Meinhold calls 4:13–14 “a spiritual mid-point” (geistige Mitte; A. Meinhold, Das Buch Esther [ZBK; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1983] 439–41). See also Berg, Esther, 110. 24.  Moore, Esther, 52. 25. See Hakham, Esther, 34.

120

Chapter 8

Table 8.1.  Contrast between Esther’s Opening and Closing Words Esther 4:11 All the king’s courtiers and the people of the king’s provinces know that if any person, man or woman, enters the king’s (‫)יבוא אל המלך‬ presence in the inner court without having been summoned, there is but one law for him (‫—)דתו‬that he be put to death. . . . Now I have not been summoned to visit the king for the last thirty days (‫)שלשים יום‬.

Esther 4:16 Go, assemble all the Jews who live in Shushan. Then I shall go to the king (‫אבוא אל‬ ‫)המלך‬, though it is contrary to the law (‫)כדת‬.

Do not eat or drink for three days (‫)שלשת ימים‬.

persuading her to go before the king—and echo with the broader context of the development of the narrative as a whole. Even if the apparent turning point of the story takes place later on (in chap. 6), from a certain perspective, Esther’s agreement should also be viewed as a “turning point,” which anticipates the later, more obvious one. 26 The essence of this idea lies in the question of the identity of the “hero” of the Esther narrative. 27 We cannot conclude our discussion of this chapter without dwelling on Esther’s closing speech: “Go, assemble all the Jews who live in Shushan, and fast in my behalf; do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my maidens will observe the same fast. Then I shall go to the king, though it is contrary to the law; and if I am to perish, I shall perish!” (4:16). An essential part of the process that Esther goes through is her defiance of the law that forbids any man or woman to enter the inner courtyard of the king without the king’s invitation. Esther’s final address stands in contrasting parallel to her opening words (see table 8.1). This reveals the reversal in Esther’s position—in the beginning, she fears for her life because of the king’s law that forbids her to enter the inner courtyard without being given permission; in the end, she relegates the king’s order to secondary place in view of a loftier purpose—the good of her people. Esther’s words, however, create a new and surprising parallel to the opening of the entire story—Ahasuerus’s banquets in chap. 1 and Vashti’s refusal to appear before the king (see table 8.2). Both of these scenes deal with the breaching of the king’s command. As we have already discussed, even in Mordecai’s refusal to succumb to the king’s command and bow down to Haman, the narrator hinted at a parallel to Vashti’s violation of the king’s order. Here again, when Esther defies the law and enters the 26.  Fox claimed that “there can be multiple turning points” (Fox, Character, 162). 27.  See the introduction, above, pp. 27–37.

The Secret Turning Point

121

Table 8.2.  Comparison of Ahasuerus/Vashti and Ahasuerus/Esther Esther 1 At the end of this period, the king gave a banquet in the court of the king’s palace garden for all the people who lived in the fortress Shushan (‫לכל‬ ‫)העם הנמצאים בשושן‬, high and low alike, for seven days (1:5) Also Vashti the queen (‫)גם ושתי המלכה‬ made a feast for the women in the royal house of King Ahasuerus (1:9) . . . to bring (‫ )להביא‬Queen Vashti before the king wearing a royal diadem (1:11) But Queen Vashti refused to come at the king’s command conveyed by the eunuchs (1:12)

Esther 4:16 Go, assemble all the Jews who live in Shushan (‫)את כל היהודים הנמצאים בשושן‬, and fast in my behalf; do not eat or drink for three days, night or day

I and my maidens (‫ )גם אני ונערתי‬will observe the same fast Then I shall go (‫ )אבוא‬to the king

Then I shall go to the king, though it is contrary to the law

king’s inner courtyard “contrary to the law,” the narrator returns to the memory of that first banquet and Vashti’s defiance of the law. This parallel contributes to the story in four ways. First, the reader’s recollection of Vashti’s fate amplifies the drama of Esther’s violation of the law in order to see the king; the threat to Esther is not hypothetical. By reminding the reader of the king’s very first banquet, the narrative increases the tension and the identification that the reader feels with Esther, who knows what fate may await her by not heeding the king’s law. Second, Esther’s deed sheds an ironic light on the law that the king promulgated in the wake of Vashti, which was that “every man should wield authority in his home” (1:22). Although the reader cannot know whether Persian women indeed began to submit to patriarchal authority, s/he knows that at least one man did not adhere to the new law—King Ahasuerus himself. No other biblical narrative portrays a woman’s initiative so prominently while mocking the man at her side. Though it begins with an assertion of masculine authority, the book of Esther eventually describes a woman leading her husband, the king, toward her desired ends, without his knowledge or agreement. This wife of the king, the lawmaker, obeys “Mordecai’s bidding”! By presenting Esther’s violation of the law (presenting herself before the king) against the background of the law stipulating women’s subservience to their husbands (the result of Vashti’s not presenting herself before the king), the text points a mocking finger at the law. 28 28.  Regarding the narrative’s cynical attitude toward “the law,” see I. Rosenson, Mas­ sekhet Megilloth (2nd ed.; Jerusalem: Efrata, 2002) 184–85 [Heb.].

122

Chapter 8

Indeed, this point is driven home by the parallel behaviors of Vashti and Esther toward their husband—apparently, even after the king’s search for a queen “more worthy than she [Vashti],” he again found himself with a wife he could not control, who paid no heed to his bidding. The wives of the king are portrayed as women whose decisions are based on their own discretion, entering or refusing to enter the inner courtyard of the king without considering his command. Third, we have already mentioned “disobedience” or “violation of orders” as a central motif of the narrative. 29 The entire plot rests on people who violate the law, beginning with Vashti, who refuses to present herself before the king, via Mordecai, who refuses to bow and prostrate himself, and finally Esther, who goes in to the king unlawfully. Ironically, only Haman seems to remain faithful to the law throughout, until he finds himself hanged from gallows because of the king’s spontaneous decree. In this sense, the salvation that begins to take shape with Esther’s entry to the king parallels the beginning of the narrative, making the violation of the king’s laws an engine that drives the plot. Most importantly, this analogy hints at the parallel between the fast days that Esther established and the banquets that opened the story. Just as the first banquet was split between “all the people who were gathered in Shushan” and the private party that Vashti held for the women, we find a similar division in Esther’s plan—all the Jews in Shushan must fast, and in the meantime, Esther and her maidens will fast. As Linda Day points out, the motif of the banquets is so prevalent in the Esther narrative that one could see Esther’s fast as a “silent rebellion,” as it were. At this covert turning point in the story, the author presents the fast as an antithesis to the general ambiance of the entire book. The fast, so steeped in prayer and moral rectification, constitutes a turning point in a story whose characters are perpetually drunk with wine. As I mentioned above, this opening scene emphasizes the gap between Mordecai, sitting outside the palace walls, and Esther the queen, inside the palace. At the end of the scene, it appears that the solid boundary between within and without has been breached. This is highlighted in Esther’s declaration of a fast for the Jews: in the beginning, individuals outside the palace fasted (4:3), and inside, Esther remained oblivious of their actions. Now, Esther herself joins the national fast that is outside the borders of the palace, and she even establishes another fast day. This fast is defined, “fast for me”—and thus the link between the Jews on the outside and Esther inside the palace is strengthened. Her words demonstrate that the Jews in Shushan will fast; but, even more, she and her maidens will fast—a fast within the palace! In essence, as we mentioned above, Esther’s use of the language “If I am lost, I am lost,” just as Haman worded his evil decree (“let 29.  Berg devotes an entire, excellent chapter to it in her book (Esther, 67–82).

The Secret Turning Point

123

an edict be drawn for their destruction”), constitutes a covert answer to Mordecai’s criticism of her: “Do not imagine that you, of all the Jews, will escape with your life by being in the king’s palace” (4:13). It appears that Esther has now placed herself in the front line of danger, and the first to be “lost” may well be Esther herself.

Chapter 9

Esther’s Plan (Esther 5:1–8) Chapter 5 opens with a chronological link (“On the third day . . .” [5:1]) that serves, of course, to connect this scene to the previous one, in which Esther declared a three-day fast for herself, her maidens, Mordecai, and all the Jews in Shushan. This invites the reader to view Esther’s visit to the king against the background of the events occurring outside the palace walls. 1 This perspective becomes even more striking in the continuation of the verse, which describes Esther wearing her royal robes and going in to see the king: “On the third day, Esther put on royal apparel (‫ )מלכות‬and stood in the inner court of the king’s palace, facing the king’s palace, while the king was sitting on his royal throne in the royal throne room facing the entrance of the palace” (5:1). This verse makes Esther’s awe of the king palpable by repeating (six times!) the root ‫ מלך‬in its various forms. Aside from the narrator’s obvious desire to build the drama leading up to Esther’s encounter with the monarch, we must consider the statement “Esther put on royal apparel.” One would hardly expect Esther to dress casually when dropping in on the king uninvited. 2 Given the role of clothing in the previous chapter, it seems that the narrator emphasizes Esther’s apparel in order to contrast 1.  T. K. Beal, Esther (Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1999) 69–70. Tg. Esth. I adds, “And it was on the third day of Passover.” This is quite possible, for Haman dispatched his decree (setting the date for the annihilation of the Jews as a year later) on the 13th of Nissan, but there is no mention in the text that this part of the plot took place during Passover (see N. L. Collins, “Did Esther Fast on the 15th Nisan?” RB 100 [1993] 533–61). In any event, the translation creates a surprising analogy: Esther goes in to the Gentile king on the third day of Passover, while during the exodus from Egypt, on the third day Pharaoh left his palace and began to pursue the newly freed Israelites. In both cases, the third day represents the transition to the next stage of the plot (see also G. Gerle­ man, Esther [BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973] 11–30). 2.  The midrash addresses the unusual formulation ‫( ותלבש אסתר מלכות‬literally, ‘Esther donned royalty’) rather than ‫‘( בגדי מלכות‬royal robes’) and comments as follows: “‘And it was on the third day that Esther donned royalty’—she already wore royal robes; what the text hints to here is that she was garbed in the Divine spirit. Here it is written, ‫ותלבש‬ (‘she donned’), while elsewhere it is written, ‘a spirit enveloped (‫ )לבשה‬Amasai’” (b. Meg. 14b). According to this midrash, the narrator is implying that “the Kingship”—to which all mortal kings are subservient—accompanied Esther into Ahasuerus’s quarters. In addition to 1 Chr 12:19, cited in the talmudic passage, the expression ‫ רוח לבשה‬is mentioned in two other places: Judg 6:34 and 2 Chr 24:20. Perhaps the Talmud selected its prooftexts because of its context. Esther’s situation is reminiscent of Amasai’s confrontation with King David, when the king had to decide whether to accept Amasai into his ranks or have him executed.

124

Esther’s Plan

125

her with Mordecai, who remains outside the palace gates, fasting, in tattered clothing. Rather than intimating the distance between Mordecai and Esther, this contrast demonstrates the complementarity of the pair. Esther donned royal garments in order to play the part of the queen in her palace, while Mordecai wore sackcloth as he did his part in the city. In chap. 4, Mordecai asked Esther, “Who knows, perhaps you have attained to royal position (‫ )מלכות‬for just such a crisis” (4:14). In chap. 5, Esther responds and faces her destiny: “Esther put on royal apparel (‫)מלכות‬.” 3 Additionally, Esther’s entry into the king’s chambers should be viewed against the backdrop of the opening banquet scene. There, Vashti broke the law by refusing the king’s command that she present herself. In chap. 5, the new queen breaks the law by presenting herself without being summoned. 4 This reference has threefold significance. First, the reader’s recollection of Vashti’s fate amplifies the drama of Esther’s violation of the law in order to see the king; the threat to Esther is not hypothetical. Second, Esther’s deed sheds an ironic light on the law that the king promulgated in the wake of Vashti’s disobedience: “Every man should wield authority in his home” (1:22). Although the reader cannot know whether Persian women indeed began to submit to patriarchal authority, s/he knows that at least one man did not adhere to the new law—King Ahasuerus himself. No other biblical narrative portrays a woman’s initiative so prominently while mocking the man at her side. Though it begins with an assertion of masculine authority, the book of Esther eventually describes a woman leading her husband, the king, toward her desired ends, without his knowledge or agreement. This wife of the king, the lawmaker, obeys “Mordecai’s bidding”! By presenting Esther’s violation of the law (presenting herself before the king) against the background of the law stipulating women’s subservience to their husbands (the result of Vashti’s not presenting herself before the king), the text points a mocking finger at the law. 5 Third, we have already mentioned “disobedience” or “violation of orders” as a central motif of the narrative. 6 The entire plot rests on people 3.  See S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure (SBLDS 44; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979) 70; M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001) 68. 4. The midrash (Esth. Rab. 3:13) that the king summoned Vashti to appear naked sharpens the comparison between the scenes because Esther donned royal robes before entering. Clines senses this connection even earlier, in Mordecai’s words to Esther in chap. 4: “Do not imagine that you, of all the Jews, will escape with your life by being in the king’s palace” (4:13). In his view, this is an ironic statement regarding the situation that “Vashti had indeed already encountered in her own way. One queen stays out when bidden, the other will enter when unbidden” (D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story [JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984] 35). 5.  Regarding the narrative’s cynical attitude toward “the law,” see I. Rosenson, Mas­ sekhet Megilloth (2nd ed.; Jerusalem: Efrata, 2002) 184–85 [Heb.]. 6.  Berg devotes an entire, excellent chapter to it in her book (Esther, 67–82).

126

Chapter 9

who violate the law, beginning with Vashti, who refuses to present herself before the king, via Mordecai who refuses to bow and prostrate himself, and finally Esther, who goes in to the king unlawfully. Ironically, only Haman seems to remain faithful to the law throughout, until he finds himself hanging from a tree because of the king’s spontaneous decree. In this sense, the salvation that begins to take shape with Esther’s entry to the king parallels the beginning of the narrative, making the violation of the king’s laws an engine that drives the plot. When Esther entered the inner court of the king’s house, “she won his favor,” and he chose Esther all over again, as he did when “she won his grace and favor” the first time. Just as the king held a banquet in honor of Esther’s selection (“the banquet of Esther”—2:18), Esther now plans a party and invites the king and his closest adviser: “Let Your Majesty and Haman come today to the feast that I have prepared for him” (5:4). To understand the reasons for Esther’s party, however, we must look elsewhere to understand the role of these banquets in Persian culture. Otherwise, we would remain baffled about why Esther did not immediately state her request once the king offered “half the kingdom.” 7 Apparently, the answer has to do with Persian culture and the norms of the regime. Herodotus reveals that, at a Persian banquet, “It is impossible to refuse any person’s request.” 8 More than putting the king in a good mood, Esther hoped that period etiquette would dictate that the king accede to the request of his hostess. Esther’s invitation of Haman to her party, however, surprises both the king and the reader. For the king, the invitation of a third person (especially another man) to an intimate party prepared for him by his wife must have caused some discomfort. The reader concludes that the king must have asked himself about the nature of the relationship between Esther and Haman, whose role (the reader presumes) relates to politics or security. Note also that Esther invited the king to a party “that I have prepared for him,” that is, for the king, though she extended an invitation to Haman, as well. As we shall see, Esther deliberately sought to raise these questions in the king’s mind, and the king’s surprise should therefore be viewed as a fundamental element of her objective. Haman’s invitation surprises the reader as well. If Esther plans to ask for the annulment of Haman’s decree, it seems that he would be the last person that Esther would want in the room! His presence at the party may 7.  The expression “up to half the kingdom” appears, at first glance, to be a lyrical, literary expression adopted by the king to express his willingness to give Esther anything that she wants. However, it appears to have been a formal expression in the Persian kingdom, indicating that the person standing before the king is being granted permission to present his request (C. A. Moore, Esther [AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971] 55). 8.  Herodotus 9.109–11. Quoted by A. Berlin, Esther (jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001) 50–51.

Esther’s Plan

127

afford him the opportunity to present his own side of the story, forcing the king to choose between his wife and his trusted adviser. 9 The rabbis of the Babylonian Talmud posed several possible explanations for Esther’s behavior: “She laid a trap for him” (R. Eliezer). “She learned this from her father’s house, as it is written, ‘If your enemy is hungry, feed him bread’” (R. Joshua). “In order that he would not take counsel and rebel” (R. Meir). “In order that it would not be recognizable that she was Jewish” (R. Judah). “In order that the Jews would not say, ‘We have a sister in the king’s house’—and not plead for Divine mercy” (R. Nehemia). “In order that he would be within her sights all the time” (R. Yossi). “I shall smile at him in order that he will kill both of us” (R. Joshua ben Koreha). “She made the king jealous of him, she made the ministers jealous of him” (R. Elazar the Modai). 10 I shall return to several of these talmudic explanations below. 11 Note, however, that the narrator does not disclose Esther’s intentions at this point; the reader must bracket his or her question and continue reading. The king and Haman attended the party that Esther had already prepared (as the verse makes clear, “the feast that I have prepared for him” [5:4]). There, Esther uttered her request, which would confound any reader unfamiliar with the story: the king offered her anything she desired, but instead of begging him to cancel the genocidal decree, she invited the king and Haman to yet another party! Here we can no longer invoke Persian manners: the party had begun, and she had an excellent opportunity to ask for Haman’s decree to be rescinded. Esther’s timeline, which the verses make quite clear, made the issue even more perplexing. In her invitation to the party, she said, “Let Your Majesty and Haman come today to the feast that I have prepared for him,” giving the king (as well as the reader) a sense of haste (the king responded by commanding: “Tell Haman to hurry” [5:5]). Once at the party, however, Esther lost all sense of urgency: “Tomorrow I will do Your Majesty’s bidding.” This question has sparked extensive debate. Modern scholars regard the postponement as a purely literary device: “The true reason for Esther’s delay is purely literary; the author needs time for the humiliation of Haman and the exaltation of Mordecai before the final blow falls.” 12 This explanation, 9.  Fox has the opposite impression; in his view, Esther’s objective in inviting Haman is that she will be able to respond to his self-justification in real time and act quickly to bring about his downfall. Otherwise, he may convince the king, exploiting the special intimacy that exists between the king and his closest adviser (Fox, Character, 71–72). 10.  B. Meg. 15b. 11.  Since the party had already been prepared, we cannot accept the approach that maintains that when Esther stood before the king she was seized with fear and decided on the spot to prepare a party (as proposed by A. Hakham, Esther [Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974] 37). However, this explanation may suffice for the postponement of her request again at the party (Clines, Esther, 37). 12.  L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 234 (likewise: Dommershausen, Bardtke, Moore, and others).

128

Chapter 9

however, is unsatisfactory. As Fox points out, the narrator could have humiliated Haman in a simpler way. 13 Additionally, were this the sole reason for the postponement, we would still be left with unsolved questions— such as why Esther invited Haman to the first party at all. The medieval commentators propose various approaches, of which I shall focus on two, both of which relate to the development of the plot. Ibn Ezra wrote: “To my view, Esther postponed talking on the first day at the party because she saw no sign from God in response to the Jews’ fasting. On the second day, she was emboldened by the honor given to Mordecai.” According to this explanation, Esther originally planned to request cancellation of the decree at the first party. However, sensing that the right stage had yet to be set (“She saw no sign from God”), she postponed her request until the next day and decided to throw another party. This explanation rests on the unfolding of the next stage in the plot: “On the second day she was emboldened by the honor given to Mordecai.” Since this new situation arose before the second party (at which Esther finally uttered her request) began, Ibn Ezra posited that the intervening scene provided what Esther deemed to be missing during the first party. The weakness of this approach lies in Esther’s reliance on Divine intervention. Ibn Ezra would have Esther waiting for a sign as she throws parties night after night. His explanation projected subsequent events back onto preceding stages. It seems more likely that Esther’s plan did not depend on a Divine sign and that a rationale for the two parties must be sought elsewhere. However, the manner in which the narrator shaped Esther’s request recommends Ibn Ezra’s contention that Esther planned the second party spontaneously: “My petition and my request is, if Your Majesty will do me the favor, if it please Your Majesty to grant my wish and accede to my request—let Your Majesty and Haman come to the feast which I will prepare for them; and tomorrow I will do Your Majesty’s bidding” (5:7–8). The loquacity of Esther’s preamble to her request (sharpened further by comparison with her opening words at the second party in 7:3) begins with the seemingly unnecessary repetition, “My wish and my request.” 14 After this introduction, the reader expects Esther to launch her actual request but instead finds that she continues with the polite formulas that apparently characterize Persian manners: “if Your Majesty will do me the favor.” Still beating around the bush, Esther continues: “if it please Your Majesty.” She then seems to start all over: “to grant my wish”; and, as though she had not yet gotten the message across, “and accede to my request.” 13.  Fox, Character, 71. 14. The jps 1985 tries to take the edge off of Esther’s redundancy by placing “Esther replied” between “my wish” and “my request”: “My wish,” replied Esther, “my request.”

Esther’s Plan

129

This clumsiness gives rise to a sense that she could not find or could not say the words she sought, choosing instead to procrastinate and prevaricate. 15 In this sense, Ibn Ezra’s assertion that Esther planned the second party because the first one failed seems viable. 16 She therefore bought time for another opportunity to present itself. 17 A comparison of the two parties indicates that each served a different role in Esther’s scheme, because the participation of the three main characters varies. In the context of the first party, we read, “The king and Haman came to the feast (‫ )המשתה‬that Esther had prepared” (5:5), whereas in the second, “The king and Haman came to feast (‫ )לשתות‬with Queen Esther” (7:1). Esther limited her participation in the first party to serving, while by the second night, she allowed herself to drink with the men. This discrepancy may allude to the reason she postponed her request. Sensing the camaraderie between Haman and the king—to her exclusion—at the first party, she modified her original plan and put off her request until she could reconsider. Alternatively, we may propose that Esther’s stammering and longwindedness were deliberate and that each feast—clumsy introductions included—represents a different phase of her master plan. Rashi addresses the issue of Haman’s invitation to the first party based on the aforementioned interpretation of Rabbi Elazar the Modai: “Our Sages proposed many different reasons for why Esther invited Haman—[for instance,] to make the king jealous of him and to make the ministers jealous of him, since the king would think that he desired [Esther], and would kill him. There are also many other reasons that are proposed” (Rashi on 5:4). While noting that the ancient rabbis offered several explanations, he subtly recommends the explanation that he finds most appealing: “She made the king jealous of him; she made the ministers jealous of him.” In other words, Esther wanted the king to suspect his queen and his closest adviser of conspiring against him. In this reading, we can imagine Esther sitting near Haman, frequently offering him food or refills of his goblet, and generally flirting with Haman throughout the meal. Haman happily accepted her fawning: “Haman went out happy and lighthearted” (5:9). The king, however, noticed Esther’s overtures, causing him to suspect a conspiracy and ruining his night’s 15. Compare: Clines, Esther, 37; Fox, Character, 73. 16.  A similar idea (although from a different perspective) is proposed by H. Gunkel, Esther (Religionsgeschichtliche Volksbücher 2; Tübingen: Mohr, 1916) 28. 17.  Compare with Rosenson’s thesis: “The solution to the riddle of the postponement of the request until the second party, more than reflecting sophisticated planning, points to a helplessness bordering on despair. . . . If Esther had a plan—and this involves more than a small paradox—then the plan was not to make plans with relation to the king” (Rosenson, Megilloth, 187–88 [Heb.]).

130

Chapter 9

sleep. Not coincidentally, Esther changed the language of her invitations between the two parties. Before the first party, Esther said: “Let Your Majesty and Haman come today to the feast that I have prepared for him” (5:4), whereas, at the party, Esther treated the king and his subject as equals: in the second invitation, Haman is treated as equal to the king: “Let Your Majesty and Haman come to the feast which I will prepare for them” (5:8). 18 The drama of the night after the first party completely reshapes the narrative plot, forcing the reader to wonder whether it altered Esther’s plan. Perhaps she always intended to distance herself from Haman at the second party, as she ultimately did. Alternatively, her original plan may have been along the lines of Rabbi Yehoshua b. Gamla’s aforementioned interpretation: “I shall smile at him so that [the king] will kill both partners”; she planned to reinforce the king’s suspicions on the second night, admit to conspiring with Haman, and thus bring about the latter’s demise with her own. This latter possibility casts a completely new light on Esther’s willingness to sacrifice her life and good name to save her people. As she put it, “If I am to perish, I shall perish.” It is only after Haman’s humiliation at the hands of Mordecai that Esther feels empowered enough to change the plan and pit herself directly against her adversary, as we shall see. Contemplation of the king’s insomnia provides support for Rashi’s approach to the parties. Clearly, the events of the preceding night disturbed the king enough that the issues of loyalty and rebellion engaged his thoughts. 19 Esther had succeeded in her objective: whereas Haman left the palace “happy and lighthearted,” the king grew ever more suspicious of his erstwhile right-hand man. When Haman later intimated his desire to don the royal crown and ride the king’s horse, he drove a nail into his own coffin, confirming the king’s suspicions. Once again, we shall address this in greater detail later on. 20 18. J. Magonet, “The Liberal and the Lady: Esther Revisited,” Judaism 29 (1980) 167– 76. From a purely syntactical point of view, there is ambiguity in the language of the first invitation: “Let the king come, and Haman, to the party which I have prepared for him”: the “him” may refer to the king or to Haman (since both are antecedents of this pronoun). At the time of the invitation, the king clearly understood himself to be the guest of honor, and Esther obviously intended it this way. However, during the party, the king may have begun to wonder about the true identity of the honoree. 19.  Compare: “The author of Esther leaves the cause of the insomnia to the reader’s imagination” (Moore, Esther, 63). Driver suggests that ‫‘( נדדה‬fled’) should be read as containing the abbreviation for Yhwh, that is ′‫ה‬, and thus should be read as ′‫( נדד ה‬G. R. Driver, “Problems and Solutions,” VT 4 [1954] 239). I find it difficult to accept this suggestion due to the absence of the name of God throughout the book of Esther. 20.  The idea that the king’s inability to sleep is due to his fear of imminent rebellion is proposed in the Talmud: He had a thought. He said, Why is it that Esther invited Haman? Perhaps they are planning to kill me? Then he thought: If that is so, then would someone who was loyal to me not inform me? He thought some more and said: Perhaps there is someone who once performed a favor for me and I did not reward him, and for

Esther’s Plan

131

Thus, the king’s sleeplessness strongly supports the reading of Rashi (and others) 21 and clarifies the purpose of Esther’s preparation of two parties, inviting Haman to each. 22 that reason people are holding back and not informing me? At that moment, “He commanded that the Book of Chronicles, the records, be brought” (b. Meg. 15b). 21.  See J. C. Siebert-Hommes, “‘Come to the Dinner I Have Prepared for You’ (Esther 5:4): Story of Love or Struggle for Power?” in The Rediscovery of the Hebrew Bible (ed. T. W. Dyk et al; Maastricht: Shaker, 1999) 85–100. For a different explanation for the king’s lack of sleep and his reading of the book of Chronicles, see J. L. Kugel, How to Read the Bible (New York: Free Press, 2007) 64. 22.  This reading in no way detracts from Amos Hakham’s interesting hypothesis: It seems that . . . Esther intended to mislead Ahasuerus into thinking that the queen was bitter over not having been called to the king for thirty days, and that she wanted the king to appease her and to show her honor by coming to the party that she had prepared for him—he and the most important minister in the kingdom. At the party, the king asks her again, “What is your petition?” From here we deduce that the king understands that Esther did not take her life in her hands solely in order to invite him to a party; rather she has some request. (Esther, 37) Originally the king assumed that Esther arranged a party for the sake of romance, but during the course of the party he noticed Esther’s romantic gaze turned toward his adviser and not toward himself!

Chapter 10

The Gallows (Esther 5:9–14) Following Esther’s first party, the text recounts that Haman emerged “happy and lighthearted” (5:9). This type of situation draws the label “dramatic irony,” in that the words and actions of a character belie the real situation, which the spectators fully realize. In our context, Haman delighted in the fact that the queen invited him exclusively to a party that she has held in honor of the king. He never imagined that Esther might be plotting against him, nor did he understand the king’s growing suspicion of him. In the oblique style that typifies the book of Esther, the creation of dramatic irony has the additional effect of alerting the reader that the characters acted without knowledge of the true situation. This technique also raises the issue of knowledge and concealment as one of the narrative’s deeper concepts. The expression ‘happy and lighthearted’ (‫ )שמח וטוב לב‬appears elsewhere in the Bible (such as in the curses of the covenant forged on the plains of Moab: “because you would not serve the Lord your God in joy and gladness (‫( ”)בשמחה ובטוב לבב‬Deut 28:47). However, this description of Haman may uniquely allude to another narrative in which people emerged “joyful and glad of heart” following a party. It may be recalling Solomon and the Israelites in the book of Kings, following the building of the Temple and Solomon’s prayer: 1 The king and all Israel with him offered sacrifices before the Lord. . . . So Solomon and all Israel with him—a great assemblage from Lebo-Hamath to the Wadi of Egypt—observed the Feast at that time before the Lord our God, seven days and again seven days, fourteen days in all. On the eighth day, he let the people go. They bade the king good-bye and went to their homes, joyful and glad of heart (‫ )שמחים וטובי לב‬over all the goodness that the Lord had shown to His servant David and His people Israel. (1 Kgs 8:62, 65–66)

In both narratives, people leave the house of the “king” (God or King Ahasuerus) “joyful and glad of heart” following a special celebration. In the case of the dedication of the Temple, the people went “to their homes (‫)לאהליהם‬,” and Haman also “went home (‫( ”)אל ביתו‬Esth 5:10). This parallel 1. J. Grossman, “‘Dynamic Analogies’ in the Book of Esther,” VT 59 (2009) 410–12.

132

The Gallows

133

dovetails nicely with others, already mentioned, that create a strong connection between the house of the king (Ahasuerus) and the Temple in Jerusalem. This instance may provide yet another allusion to the chasm separating Persian culture and civilization from their Israelite equivalents. At the same time, by causing the reader to recall the joy of Solomon and his subjects as he or she reads of the joyful Haman, the author points to a specific difference between these two scenes: the Israelites, according to the book of Kings, rejoiced over the completion of God’s Temple, and were “glad of heart over all the goodness that the Lord had shown to His servant David and His people Israel.” Haman, on the other hand, rejoiced because, as he later told his confidants, “The king had promoted him and advanced him above the officials and the king’s courtiers” (5:11). Both Haman and the Israelites celebrated the kindness bestowed upon them by the king. However, whereas God’s bounty is everlasting, the goodness bestowed by Ahasuerus does not even last through the night. 2 Mordecai’s refusal to prostrate himself clouded Haman’s mood: “When Haman saw Mordecai in the palace gate, and Mordecai did not rise or even stir on his account, Haman was filled with rage at him” (5:9). Here, the narrator gives the reader a glimpse of Haman’s true feelings: “Haman controlled himself and went home” (5:10). We can deduce from the fact that Haman had to “control himself” that his anger almost got the better of him; he almost struck Mordecai on the spot, but something seemed to prevent him from doing so. 3 In seeking to understand why Haman had to control himself, the reader may conclude, as she earlier concluded, that Mordecai’s status prevented Haman from doing to Mordecai as he pleased. 4 This conclusion, however, raises a problem in comprehending Haman’s next actions. In his extreme agitation, Haman went home and gathered his cronies to ask their advice: “Haman controlled himself and went home. He sent for his friends and his wife Zeresh” (5:10). He began his tirade by informing them of his great successes: financial (“his great wealth”), filial

2.  See below, in the discussion of “dynamic allusion.” Concerning the expression “joyful and glad of heart,” C. A. Moore refers the reader to 1 Sam 25:36—“Nabal was in a merry mood (‫( ”)לב נבל טוב עליו‬Esther [AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971] 59). I do not know why she specifically chose the example of Nabal, but the comparison is appropriate: Nabal also was unaware of what the feminine character in the story was planning at the exact moment when he rejoiced. This description is highly reminiscent of Haman’s state and Esther’s actions. 3.  The verb ‫‘( להתאפק‬to restrain or control oneself’) appears to be connected to the Akkadian verb epêku ‘to grow strong’. The usual biblical sense of this verb is “holding oneself back from doing a certain thing” (BDB, 67; HALOT, 80). See also my Ambiguity in the Biblical Narrative and Its Contribution to the Literary Formation (Ph.D. diss., Bar-Ilan University, 2006) 154–57 [Heb.}. 4. Indeed, in this scene the text emphasizes Mordecai’s status: “When Haman saw Mordecai in the palace gate, and Mordecai did not rise or even stir on his account” (5:9).

134

Chapter 10

(“his many sons”), 5 and political (“how the king had promoted him and advanced him above the officials and the king’s courtiers”). Haman then awarded special emphasis to his presence at Esther’s parties: “Queen Esther gave a feast, and besides the king she did not have anyone but me. And tomorrow too I am invited by her along with the king” (5:12). The narrator achieves this emphasis by shifting from indirect narration (“telling”) to direct quotation (“showing”). After recounting how Haman “told them” of his riches, sons, and power, the narrator lets his readers listen in on the actual conversation: “Haman said, ‘What is more, Queen Esther gave a feast.’” This highlights the stark contrast between Haman’s pride and Esther’s intention, generating a powerful irony: the event that Haman regarded as the pinnacle of his success is in fact nothing but a prelude to his dramatic fall. Haman’s success “meant nothing” to him from the moment he encountered Mordecai “sitting in the palace gate.” The expression “means nothing to me (‫ ”)איננו שוה לי‬recalls Haman’s request to destroy the Jews: “It is not in Your Majesty’s interest (‫ )ולמלך אין שוה‬to tolerate them” (3:8). Thus, Haman himself—quite unknowingly—uttered the bitter truth: it was not in anyone’s interest to tolerate Haman, and therefore he, not the Jews, suffered the fate of being “destroyed, massacred, and terminated.” 6 After hearing him out, Haman’s confidants offer the following suggestion: “Then his wife Zeresh and all his friends said to him, ‘Let a gallows be put up, fifty cubits high, and in the morning ask the king to have Mordecai hanged on it. Then you can go gaily with the king to the feast’”(5:14). Here the reader seeking drama and intrigue remains sorely disappointed: Haman arrived home helpless and frustrated by Mordecai’s recalcitrance. To solve this painful problem, he gathered “his friends and his wife Zeresh,” who provide the solution sought by Haman. Their solution turns out to be staggeringly simple—kill Mordecai! This sequence leaves the reader baffled by Haman’s need to convene his cabinet in order to arrive at such an obvious solution. Haman entertained—but disdained—killing Mordecai ear5. Note that in Haman’s speech, “his great wealth (‫ ”)כבוד עשרו‬preceded “his many sons.” In this sense, Haman is reminiscent of his king, who likewise holds a special feast in order to show off the ‘vast riches of his kingdom’ (‫( )עושר כבוד מלכותו‬1:4). 6.  A similar expression is used in Elihu’s speech to Job: “He declares to men, ‘I have sinned; I have perverted what was right; But I was not paid back for it (‫ ( ”’)ולא שוה לי‬Job 33:27). What a distance separates Elihu’s speech to a person who was spared punishment from the confession of Haman a day before his own punishment. Also note that Haman’s description of Mordecai is ambiguous: do the words “sitting at the palace gate” refer to Mordecai’s position or to his election to remain seated and not bow? Berlin suggests that this ambiguity is intentional: “Haman cannot bring himself to express the full measure of Mordecai’s disrespect for him even to his closest friends; so he uses the ambiguous ‘sitting’” (A. Berlin, Esther [jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001] 55). Alternatively, we may propose that the narrator wishes to hint that, even if Mordecai‘s failure to bow originally angered Haman, later his mere presence sufficed to arouse Haman‘s ire.

The Gallows

135

lier in the story: “he disdained to lay hands on Mordecai alone; having been told who Mordecai’s people were . . .” (3:6). Furthermore, as noted above, the insertion of the expression “Haman controlled himself” at the beginning of this scene indicates that Haman again considered but rejected killing Mordecai. To understand Zeresh’s plan, we must try to understand, from her own words, what special innovation she proposed beyond a simple “Let’s kill him.” Two points come to the fore: 1. “Let a gallows be put up, fifty cubits high, and . . . have Mordecai hanged on it.” Thus, Zeresh proposed a specific manner of execution. 7

2. “In the morning, ask the king”—the hanging will not be carried out as a personal settling of accounts but by royal decree. In order to understand the significance of death by hanging, we must ask ourselves whether in Ahasuerus’s kingdom (and hence in the consciousness and speech of Zeresh and Haman) hanging was the punishment for a specific crime rather than just a general means of execution. If it had a specific significance, then by proposing to hang Mordecai and by emphasizing the height of the gallows, Zeresh was implying something more. Furthermore, if the author wanted his readers to understand the significance of hanging, then he needed to supply them with the necessary tools. Thus, at this stage, the narrator began to redeem the “plot vouchers” from the scene in which Mordecai foiled the conspiracy of Bigthan and Teresh, who “plotted to do away with King Ahasuerus” but who both wound up “hanged on gallows.” Zeresh recommended accusing Mordecai of treason so that he would be sentenced to death by hanging. 8 7.  The height of the gallows sounds very peculiar: 50 cubits is more than 20 meters— approximately the height of a 7-story building! This exaggeration is most likely meant to be satirical (L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther [ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908] 240). Perhaps this strange number is likewise meant to remind the reader of the Tabernacle and the Temple, serving to make a mockery of Haman. The reader associates a 50-cubits measure with the Tabernacle: “For the width of the enclosure, on the west side, fifty cubits of hangings . . .” (Exod 27:12–13). This measurement appears again in connection with Solomon’s Temple: “He made the portico of columns, fifty cubits long” (1 Kgs 7:6). In fact, this measurement is also associated with the Temple envisioned by Ezekiel (see Ezekiel 40). However, while in the Tabernacle or the Temple 50 cubits is a measure of length or breadth, for Haman it becomes a measure of height! In other words, in their great enthusiasm to hang Mordecai, Haman and Zeresh “recall” that the Israelites used a special measurement—50 cubits—but they mix up the dimension. 8. The type of punishment intended may not be hanging at all but crucifixion, as Ellicot noted: “Crucifixion was a common punishment among the Persians, especially on rebels (Herod. 3:120, 125, 159, etc.). . . . Doubtless the punishment intended for Mordecai was crucifixion, for hanging, in the common sense of the term, does not seem to have been in use among the Persians” (C. J. Ellicott, Ellicott’s Bible Commentary [London: Pickering & Inglis, 1971] 368–69). Malbim paves the way for seeing the form of execution as significant. In commenting on Esth 5:14, he writes:

136

Chapter 10

In the book of Ezra, we find further evidence of hanging as a punishment for rebellion in Persian law. The edict of Darius, granting the Jews license to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem, states: “I also issue an order that whoever alters this decree shall have a beam removed from his house, and he shall be hanged from it, and his house confiscated” (Ezra 6:11). The edict emphasizes that the order to rebuild the Temple originated with the king. Violators would be treated as traitors—and hanged. 9 Another interesting point arises from Darius’s words. It seems that the Persians saw significance in hanging a traitor from gallows made of wood from his own house. In Esther as well, Haman was hanged on a wooden gallows at his own house, as Harbonah stated: “A gallows is standing at Haman’s house, fifty cubits high” (7:9). 10 This reading draws further support from the context of the larger literary unit, but to examine it properly we must first address the division of the narrative into units, which is a complex task. Obvious connections between events are rare in Esther, and the narrative frequently links different literary units together without transitions, which sometimes makes it difficult to define the beginning and end of a specific scene or stage of the plot. They advise him cunningly as to a way of avenging himself on Mordecai while not being seen to diminish his own honor. For if he would hang Mordecai merely for the crime of not having prostrated himself to him, this would diminish from his own honor, demonstrating that he had a feud with a Jewish man because the latter did not show the proper respect towards him. But sometimes the king would order that one of those who rebelled against him be hanged, so as to cast fear upon the people, so as to say: Anyone who acts in such a way will be subject to a verdict of hanging. 9.  See further J. Blenkinsopp, Ezra–Nehemiah (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988) 127–28. 10.  It is possible to interpret the verdict meted out to the royal baker, in Gen 40:22, in the same way. Note also that, in the Talmud, hanging is a punishment for brazen rebellion against God. The rabbis limit this punishment to two specific sins: blasphemy and idolatry. (This is the majority view among the sages. R. Yehuda disagreed, maintaining, “Anyone who should be stoned, may also be hanged.” See Siphre Deut. 121 [Finkelstein ed.], pp. 253–54; and b. Sanh. 45b.) Both blaspheming and idolatry represent a fundamental rebellion against God, and it is specifically these sins that are punishable by hanging. An echo of this view of hanging as a punishment for betrayal and rebellion is found in the Temple Scroll: “If there be a man who goes tale-bearing among his people or informs on his people to a foreign people, or causes harm to his people, then he shall be hanged upon the gallows, that he may die. . . . If a person bears a sin that is punishable by death, and he flees into the midst of the nations, and he curses his nation, Bnei Yisrael, then he, too, is hanged upon the gallows, that he may die,” lines 6–11 (Y. Yadin, The Temple Scroll [3 vols.; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1977–83] 2.202–4). Weinfeld correctly points out, “This represents political treason: 1. Handing over partners in covenant to the nations and ‘harming his people’ mean, as in Akkadian, treason against the ruler. 2. Fleeing to a foreign nation and despising and alienating oneself from his own nation” (M. Weinfeld, Deuteronomy [World of the Bible; Tel Aviv: Davidson Atai, 1994] 154–66). Yadin writes similarly in The Temple Scroll, 1.285–286. See further on this subject J. M. Baumgarten, “Hanging and Treason in Qumran and Roman Law,” ErIsr 16 (Orlinsky vol.; 1982) 7–16.

The Gallows

137

The author of Esther helps us by providing two different introductions to the brief literary units that constitute the plot. This device is especially noticeable in the first half of the narrative, where two different introductions stand out clearly: 11 1:2

In those days

2:1 2:21 3:1 6:1 8:1

Some time afterward In those days Some time afterward That night That day

If we organize the narrative into literary divisions based on these two types of introductions, some interesting emphases emerge. The literary unit under discussion begins with the expression “In those days, when Mordecai was sitting in the palace gate” (2:21) and ends with the words “That night, sleep deserted the king” (6:1). The unit is structured concentrically. The images that it comprises are reflected in the diagram on p. 138; notes follow. •  The narrative obviously focuses on the dialogue between Mordechai and Esther, in which Mordechai attempts to convince Esther to risk her life and enter the courtyard of the king. Esther is convinced and makes the fateful decision: “If I am to perish, I shall perish.” 12 •  Haman’s request led to the writing of the letters (D), whereas Esther’s request began the process that led to their nullification (D′). •  Mordecai’s refusal to bow provoked Haman’s anger and subsequent decree (C). We later discover that, even after the letters’ dispatch, Mordecai still stubbornly refused to bow to Haman (C′). 13 •  The Shushanites perceived Mordecai’s refusal as a grave offense to Haman, given the latter’s high status (B), and an undermining of Haman’s honor, which Haman himself indicated (B′). •  Finally, surprisingly enough, the entire story “hangs,” as it were, on the gallows (A–A′). Corresponding to the hanging of the traitors, we read of Zeresh’s suggestion to execute Mordecai in the same manner. Apparently, as noted, she intended Haman to have Mordecai executed on the pretext of treason. As proposed in our discussion of Haman’s promotion (chap. 3), Haman may have been the king’s personal security adviser, a position that granted him leeway to investigate and punish suspected rebels with the king’s blessing. Thus, 11.  Compare Y. Shapira, A Postmodernist Reading of the Biblical Book of Esther: From Cultural Disintegration to Carnivalesque Text (Ph.D. diss., State University of New York, 1996) 161–85. 12.  This dialogue between Mordecai and Esther lies at the center of the limited structure under examination but is also central to the development of the plot as a whole, as noted above. 13. As previously noted, Mordecai remained unwilling to take this small step even after all Jews were placed at risk, the Shushanite Jews sat fasting, and Esther decided to sacrifice herself by appearing before the king. See further Y. Medan, “Mordecai Did Not Bow, Nor Did He Prostrate Himself—Why?” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 151–70 [Heb.].

138

Chapter 10

A.  The hanging of the traitors (2:21–23) Esther reported it to the king in Mordecai’s name. The matter was investigated and found to be so, and the two were hanged on gallows.   B.  Promotion of Haman (3:1–2a, b) King Ahasuerus promoted Haman. . . and advanced him and seated him higher than any of his fellow officials. All the king’s courtiers . . . knelt and bowed low to Haman.    C.  Haman’s anger at Mordecai (3:2c–7) When Haman saw that Mordecai would not kneel or bow low to him, Haman was filled with rage.     D.  Haman’s request of the king and the signing of the decree   (3:8–15) whose laws are different from those of any other people and who do not obey the king’s laws. . . . If it please Your Majesty, let an edict be drawn for their destruction.      E.  Mordechai convinces Esther to risk her life to save the Jewish    people (chap. 4) And who knows, perhaps you have attained to royal position for just such a crisis. . . . I shall go to the king, though it is contrary to the law; and if I am to perish, I shall perish.     D′.  Esther’s request of the king (5:1–8) “If it please Your Majesty,” Esther replied.    C′.  Haman’s anger at Mordecai (5:9) When Haman saw Mordecai in the palace gate, and Mordecai did not rise or even stir on his account, Haman was filled with rage at him.   B′.  Promotion of Haman (5:10–13) all about how the king had promoted him and advanced him above the officials and the king’s courtiers. A′.  Zeresh’s suggestion—hanging Mordecai on the gallows (5:14) Then his wife Zeresh and all his friends said to him, “Let a gallows be put up, fifty cubits high, and in the morning ask the king to have Mordecai hanged on it.”

Zeresh advised her husband: “In the morning ask the king”—turn Mordecai into a traitor and have him officially executed.

However, Zeresh and Haman were unaware that, of all the king’s subjects, only one established impeccable credentials of loyalty—Mordecai the Jew, who foiled the assassination attempt of Bigthan and Teresh. Not coincidentally, that very night the king recalled that episode and wondered how best

The Gallows

139

to reward Mordecai’s loyalty just as Haman arrived with his accusations of treason! 14 The contrast between Haman’s plan (cooked up by Zeresh) and its outcome constitutes a fine application of the words of the Psalmist: “He has dug a pit and deepened it, and will fall into the trap he made” (Ps 7:16). 15 While Haman sought to frame Mordecai for treason, the king remembered Mordecai’s loyalty and began to show concern about Haman’s. This scenario posed great danger to the king; if Haman—responsible for the king’s security—decided to stage a coup, no one would stand in his way. Unsurprisingly, then, when the reader next encounters the gallows, it is in the scene where the king sees Haman lying on Esther’s bed after hearing that Haman tricked him into decreeing the annihilation of an entire people, and the king utters a verdict—“Hang him from it”—which sentences Haman to die as a traitor. What Haman sought to do to Mordecai, execute him for the crimes of rebellion and treason (despite his innocence), ultimately happened to Haman himself. In our discussion of Haman’s decrees, we noted that the author borrowed expressions taken from the episode of Naboth’s vineyard. 16 Zeresh’s suggestion to Haman should also be read against this background (see table 10.1). Both narratives depict the same scene: the powerful husband, finding himself unable to realize his desire, comes home angry and frustrated. He tells his wife about his problems and the anguish that so-and-so’s actions have caused. The wife proposes a solution (killing the troublemaker) that allows her husband to enjoy himself. This link also appears to support our hypothesis regarding Zeresh’s plan. Jezebel explicitly (1 Kgs 21:9–10) framed Naboth by having “two scoundrels” testify that he committed blasphemy against God and the king. The purpose of this kangaroo court was to have Naboth killed as a traitor so 14.  “While the peripety of chapter 6 serves distinct literary purposes, it also hints at divine intervention” (T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther [SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998] 100). 15.  Indeed, the midrash weaves this verse into Mordecai’s prayer: Mordecai prayed to God, saying: It is clear and known before Your Throne of Glory, Master of the universe, that it was not out of pride or arrogance that I acted, in not prostrating myself to Haman, but rather out of fear of You that I acted thus, and did not prostrate myself to him, out of my awe for You, lest I show the honor due to You to a mortal, and I did not wish to prostrate myself to anyone but You. For who am I, that I should bow before Haman for the sake of delivering Your nation, Israel? For I would be licking the shoe of his foot. And now, our God, save us, I pray You, from his hand. Let him fall into the ditch that he has made, and be caught up in the net that he has spread for the feet of your righteous ones. And let this troublesome one know that You have not forgotten the promise that You made to us: “Nevertheless, when they are in the land of their enemies, I shall not detest them, nor revile them, to destroy them, violating My covenant with them, for I am the Lord their God.” (Esth. Rab. 8:7) 16.  Above, pp. 107–109.

140

Chapter 10

Table 10.1.  Comparison of Ahab/Jezebel and Haman/Zeresh Ahab (and Jezebel)

Haman (and Zeresh)

Ahab went home dispirited and sullen

Haman controlled himself and went home (later: “his head covered in mourning”)

So he told her:

And Haman told them:

I spoke to Naboth the Jezreelite

Every time I see that Jew Mordecai

His wife Jezebel said to him . . .

Then his wife Zeresh said to him . . .

Rise and eat something, and be cheerful

Go gaily with the king to the feast

that Ahab would inherit his vineyard. 17 Her plan called for the outward appearance of standard judicial procedure but, in reality, constituted slander, murder, and theft. In this light, we can understand Zeresh’s plan as well: she suggested killing Mordecai “legally,” by assiduously reporting threats of treason to the king (“And in the morning, tell the king”) so that the murder would not be perceived as a settling of personal accounts. However, when Haman arrived at the king’s chamber, the king had just been reminded of Mordecai’s loyalty, ultimately causing the accusation of and execution for treason to rebound on Haman. Harbonah eventually became the agent who affected this switch of roles when he said, “What is more, a gallows is standing at Haman’s house, fifty cubits high, which Haman made for Mordecai—the man whose words saved the king” (7:9). In accepting Zeresh’s advice to build a gallows for Mordecai, Haman sealed his own fate. By law, Haman in fact deserved his fate, since he violated the law that “every man should wield authority in his home” (1:22), by seeking his wife’s advice. 18 Ahab also believed that his wife’s advice would lead to victory over his enemy, but as Elijah prophesied: “In the very place where the dogs lapped up Naboth’s blood, the dogs will lap up your blood too” (1 Kgs 21:19). Haman also is destined to die on the very gallows that he prepared for Mordecai, and Mordecai will inherit his estate. 17. Compare: b. Sanh. 48b. See also: t. Sanh. chapter 4 (Zuckermandel edition, 421). 18.  See M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001) 74. The Talmud identifies Memucan with Haman, adding dramatic irony to this point.

Chapter 11

Mordecai on Horseback (Esther 6) That Night On the night between Esther’s parties, sleep escapes the king. As I noted above, the king’s insomnia invites us to glimpse into his thoughts. Esther succeeds in planting suspicions of an imminent insurgency (perhaps by Haman) in his mind. The text itself does not explicitly disclose Haman’s true intentions, although it makes Haman’s fascination with the trappings of royalty abundantly clear. A striking sense of passivity characterizes the beginning of this scene: “the king’s sleep deserted him” (instead of “the king could not sleep”); “it was read to the king”; “it was found written”; “what honor or advancement has been conferred?”; “nothing at all has been done for him.” The narrator does not specify who read the book of Chronicles to the king, and the expression “it was found written” is similarly unusual (we would expect “he found,” or something similar). Likewise, the king inquires what was “done for” Mordecai, rather than (more appropriately) “what did I do?” 1 Through this style, the narrator hints at a hidden hand made manifest especially in this scene. Here also “the narrator avoids involving God,” 2 but the omission is most striking. 3

In the Morning The pace of the narrative and asyndetic phrases give the impression that Haman came to the king that very night, seeking to have Mordecai hanged: 1. Compare the words of the talmudic sages: “‘He ordered the book of records, the annals, to be brought; and it was read to the king’—this teaches that they were read by themselves. ‘And it was found written’—by whom? This teaches that Shimshai [a scribe] erased [the record of Mordecai’s deed] and [the angel] Gabriel wrote” (b. Meg. 15b–16a). 2.  L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 244. 3.  See also C. A. Moore, Esther (AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971) 66. The Septuagint and the Aramaic translations emphasize that God withheld sleep from the king. Compare: “‘On that night, sleep deserted the king’—Rabbi Tanchum said: Sleep fled the King of the world. The rabbis said: The upper worlds and the lower worlds were restless. Rabbah said: This refers to the actual sleep of King Ahasuerus himself” (b. Meg. 15b).

141

142

Chapter 11

That night, sleep deserted the king, and he ordered the book of records, the annals, to be brought. . . . There it was found written that Mordecai had denounced Bigthana and Teresh. . . . “What honor or advancement has been conferred on Mordecai for this?” the king inquired. “Nothing at all has been done for him,” replied the king’s servants who were in attendance on him. “Who is in the court?” the king asked. For Haman had just entered the outer court of the royal palace, to speak to the king about having Mordecai hanged on the gallows he had prepared for him. “It is Haman standing in the court,” the king’s servants answered him. “Let him enter,” said the king. (6:1–5)

The parataxis of the king’s two questions to his servants gives the sense that his second question, “Who is in the courtyard?” simply continued the same dialogue with his servants; it seems almost like a reaction to their words “Nothing at all has been done for him.” This impression caused certain scholars to question why Haman came to the king at such a late hour. 4 Despite the appearance that Haman came to the king at night, which arises from the way in which the narrator shapes the story, he actually arrived in the morning. We know this from two indirect pieces of information: 1. Zeresh had told Haman, “In the morning ask the king to have Mordecai hanged on it” (5:14), and nothing indicates that he deviated from this plan.

2. At the end of his consultation with Haman, the king commanded: “Quick, then! Get the garb and the horse, as you have said, and do this to Mordecai the Jew, who sits in the king’s gate. Omit nothing of all you have proposed” (6:10). Haman immediately obeyed (6:11–12), and upon returning home and updating his confidants, rushed off to the next party, Haman’s last, with the king’s chamberlains. Therefore, we must conclude that this happened in the morning, while Mordecai was sitting at the king’s gate, and the streets of Shushan were bustling with activity. The narrator intentionally misled his readers by closing the temporal gap between the events of the night and the events of the morning. In effect, this device serves to highlight the irony of this scene, which reaches a climax with this image. While the king deliberated about a proper reward for Mordecai, Haman arrived with a request to hang him on the gallows. 5 It seems reasonable to think that the king intended to trap Haman from the outset when he asked him how to reward someone whom the king sought to honor. This idea arises, inter alia, from a careful comparison of 4.  “Haman apparently cannot wait until morning to ask permission to hang Mordecai on his high gallows, but comes in the middle of the night to the palace, although there is no reason to expect a summons from the king at that hour” (Paton, Esther, 246–47). 5.  The closing of this temporal gap also gives the impression that the king learned of his debt to Mordecai in the nick of time. The reader senses that, had Haman arrived to frame Mordecai just a few moments sooner, the outcome could have been very different.

Mordecai on Horseback

143

his question to Haman and his words to his servants the previous night: “The king asked him: ‘What should be done for a man whom the king desires to honor?’” (6:6), as opposed to, “‘What honor or advancement has been conferred on Mordecai for this?’ the king inquired” (6:3). The omission of ‘advancement’ (‫ )גדולה‬may simply be an abbreviated expression of the same idea, but it is possible (as Levenson maintains) that the omission is intentional. 6 The narrator described Haman’s promotion in these terms: “Some time afterward King Ahasuerus promoted (‫)ּגּדַ ל‬ ִ Haman son of Hamedatha, the Agagite, and advanced him” (3:1). Perhaps the king suspected that, if he mentioned advancement as well, Haman would think that the king had someone other than him in mind, since Haman had already attained “promotion” in Ahasuerus’s kingdom. The king, seeking to test Haman and uncover his true desires, apparently wanted Haman to think himself the subject of the king’s query. Haman fell for it, as the narrator informs us by providing an intimate glimpse into Haman’s heart: “Haman said to himself, ‘Whom would the king desire to honor more than me?’” (6:6). Haman’s hubris set him up for a big surprise, in fulfillment of the wisdom of Proverbs: “Duplicity is in his heart; he plots evil all the time; he incites quarrels. Therefore calamity will come upon him without warning; suddenly he will be broken without repair” (Prov 6:14–15). 7 In his response to the king, Haman incriminated himself by requesting (for himself) full regalia, thereby supplying the king with additional evidence, that he longed to wear the royal robes and ride on the king’s own horse: Let royal garb which the king has worn be brought, and a horse on which the king has ridden and on whose head a royal diadem has been set; and let the attire and the horse be put in the charge of one of the king’s noble courtiers. And let the man whom the king desires to honor be attired and paraded on the horse through the city square, while they proclaim before him: This is what is done for the man whom the king desires to honor! (Esth 6:8–9) 8

The expression “on whose head a royal diadem has been set” with which Haman described the horse appeared earlier in the narrative, in the 6.  J. D. Levenson, Esther (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997) 96. 7.  Levenson views the king’s consultation with Haman against the backdrop of Pharaoh’s consultation with Joseph about how to manage the imminent years of famine (ibid., 97). Thus, the irony is clear: Haman expects promotion like Joseph, but in reality the king will bestow this honor on Haman’s nemesis. 8.  For a comparison of Haman’s proposal for honor with the honor that was given to Joseph when he rose to power (Gen 41:42–43), see M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001) 76–77. In his view, a careful comparison shows that Haman sought to amplify the honor to which he felt himself entitled, in relation to the honor that had been given to Joseph.

144

Chapter 11

description of Esther’s coronation: “The king loved Esther more than all the other women, and she won his grace and favor more than all the virgins. So he set a royal diadem on her head and made her queen instead of Vashti” (2:17). 9 This expression appears nowhere else in all of the Bible, making it reasonable to assume that, at least in the king’s mind (even if Haman did not intend it that way), the two images were connected: Haman reminded the king of Esther’s replacement of Vashti, arousing the king’s suspicion that Haman intended to complete the picture by replacing the ruling king and claiming the throne for himself! The king responded with palpable anger, ordering Haman himself to lead Mordecai through the street of the city. Haman had suggested that “one of the king’s noble courtiers” lead the man whom the king sought to honor, but the king saddled Haman, his closest adviser, with the mission, thereby putting him in his place. The king simultaneously did Mordecai a favor by humiliating his nemesis, Haman.

In the Street The narrator dwells once again on all the details, describing how Haman took the garments and the horse, how he dressed Mordecai, how he led him on horseback through the street, and how he proclaimed, “This is what is done for the man whom the king desires to honor!” (6:11–12). The narrator ignores a significant detail, however: dialogue between Haman and Mordecai. Fox explains this omission by providing this apt insight: “But the silence itself speaks, leaving the impression that nothing was said. Haman gritted his teeth and did what he had to, while Mordecai taciturnly accepted the honor.” 10 The reader may further question the entire point of the image of Haman leading Mordecai on horseback. Every other scene in the narrative serves, in some way or another, to advance the plot. In this case, however, it seems that the plot could develop just as well without it. There are various approaches to this question. I shall examine three and then propose a fourth: 1. Mordecai Breuer (and similarly Elias Bickerman) 11 maintains that the episode of the horse should be interpreted in light of the fundamental duality of the book of Esther: the narrative’s “two aspects” in Breuer’s words, or its “double plot” in Bickerman’s. They discern two separate story lines throughout the narrative: one concerning the personal conflict between Mordecai and Haman and the other concerning the grudge that Haman 9. As Moore points out, the expression “desires to honor”—so central to this scene— likewise recalls the scene in which Esther is chosen as queen, since the term ‘desire’ (‫)חפץ‬ is used there as well: “She would not go again to the king unless the king wanted her (‫)חפץ‬, when she would be summoned by name” (2:14; Moore, Esther, 64). 10.  Fox, Character, 78. 11. M. Breuer, Pirkei Mo’adot ( Jerusalem: Horev, 1986) 2.600–614. E. Bickerman, Four Strange Books of the Bible (New York: Schocken, 1967) 171–88.

Mordecai on Horseback

145

harbors against the Jewish people. In Breuer’s view, the scene of the horse represents Mordecai’s unequivocal personal victory over Haman (he emphasizes that the victory becomes complete with Haman’s hanging on the gallows prepared for Mordecai). In their view, this scene concludes the story of personal conflict but does not advance the other story line. 2. Along similar lines, other scholars view the personal struggle between Mordecai and Haman as a microcosm of the broader national battle between Israel and Amalek, much as the personal battle between David and Goliath in 1 Samuel 17 represents—both to the readers and to the characters—the national struggle between Israel and Philistia. Perhaps, in some sense, a military champion incarnates his national god (as indicated by Goliath’s words and David’s response). Alternatively, the struggle of the two leaders as representatives of the two nations may simply evoke some ancient military norm. Either way, in this light, the image of Haman leading Mordecai on horseback foreshadows the ultimate Jewish victory. Zeresh’s words to Haman when he returned home seem to support this reading, or at least allude to its logical resolution: “If Mordecai, before whom you have begun to fall, is of Jewish stock, you will not overcome him; you will fall before him to your ruin” (6:13). 12 3. Mordecai Sabato has proposed that the significance of the scene of Mordecai being led on horseback lies in its closing the circle that began with Mordecai’s refusal to bow to Haman. Previously, Mordecai avoided prostrating himself before Haman, despite the king’s order to do so, but Haman could still console himself and save his honor: Haman could claim that were he given the opportunity, he, too, would violate the king’s command and would not bow before Mordecai. For this reason there is a need for a further confrontation; a confrontation in which Haman is commanded by the king to show submission before Mordecai. This confrontation is realized in the episode of the horse, where Haman is commanded to run in front of Mordecai; he is commanded, and he submits.

Mordecai thereby prevails over Haman not only in concrete reality but also in psychological courage, in standing up for his principles. 13 However, aside from all of these readings, this scene seems to occupy a special status in the narrative and, from a certain perspective, even represents its turning point. 14 This idea arises from the overall literary structure of the book of Esther. As we have noted in the introduction, the narrative 12.  “[The reader] sees it to augur well for Esther’s success before the king and for the Jews’ ultimate victory over their enemies” (Moore, Esther, 67). 13. M. Sabato, “He Increases the Nations and Destroys Them,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 195–204. 14.  As Fox and Laniak maintain (Fox, Character, 162; T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther [SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998[ 103) in contrast to the view of Berg and Meinhold (S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure [SBLDS 44;

146

Chapter 11

has a concentric structure, a structure of “the opposite happened,” with the scene of the horse serving as its central axis. 15 We may say that the expression that appears at the end—“the opposite happened” (9:1)—is a central motif in the narrative, manifest even in the literary structure. The episode of the horse is the central axis upon which the turnabout occurs. Up until this point, Haman was on the rise; from this point forward, Haman begins his fall. This scene, then, serves to notify the reader of a key turnabout in the plot, to express that “the opposite happened.” The horse scene shows very clearly the gulf separating Haman’s emotional state when he approached the king from his state when he returned home. This reversal plays an important role in molding one of the fundamental aims of the Esther narrative pertaining to the spiritual, cultural conflict between Israel and Persian paganism. 16 This scene makes a strong statement about the profound gap between a person’s plans to bring down another while gaining glory for himself and the recompense that awaits him: the glory he envisioned for himself became the lot of his adversary (the idea of the horse, after all, originated in Haman’s own mind), whereas the planned vehicle for the enemy’s demise brought about his own (Haman invested in the construction of the gallows from which he eventually dangled). The horse scene represents the central axis for this reversal of fate—not just because of its dramatic irony (which adds considerably to the shaping of the special drama of this narrative) but also because of the idea that lies behind it: “He has dug a pit and deepened it, and will fall into the trap he made. His mischief will recoil upon his own head; his lawlessness will come down upon his skull” (Ps 7:16–17). 17 In addition to the literary turnaround that takes place in this scene, Esther underwent an internal revolution when she proclaimed a fast that served to warn the Jews of Shushan not to go back to the banquets of the Persian king but instead to return to their Jewish identity through fasting and prayer, which represents an earlier, inner turning point. 18 As part of the “garb” of this narrative, her psychological, spiritual turnaround remains hidden, while the plot revolves around the transformation undergone by Ahasuerus and from the perspective of Haman. The reader—like Esther and Mordecai—is meant to understand that the real turnaround happens Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979] 110; A. Meinhold, “Zu Aufbau und Mitte des esther­ buches,” VT 33 [1983] 439–41). 15.  See above, pp. 12–16. 16.  See above, pp. 93–97, and below, pp. 152–155. 17.  Compare S. Talmon, “Wisdom in the Book of Esther,” VT 13 (1963) 419–55; Fox, Character, 252–53. 18.  “The only religious observance mentioned is that of fasting” (S. R. Driver, An Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament [Cleveland: World Publishing, 1956] 486). See above, pp. 111–123.

Mordecai on Horseback

147

elsewhere, more subtly, when Esther demonstrates her self-sacrifice for the sake of her people. Moreover, a superficial reading indeed suggests that Mordecai received a great honor when led on horseback through the streets while Haman proclaimed that the king desired to honor him. Not coincidentally, ‘honor’ (‫ )יקר‬appears several times in this chapter and may be viewed as its key word since everything revolves around the honor that the king wished to bestow on his loyal subject. 19 However, the value of this honor stems from the king’s bestowal of it. After all, this is the very meaning of the declaration: “This is what is done for the man whom the king desires to honor!” The horse itself represents no special privilege unless accompanied by the declaration. Haman, then, longed to have the whole world hear that the king sought to honor him— he judged himself, his status, and his success precisely by this measure. The author, however, does not necessarily share this viewpoint. Henshke notes the ambiguity of Haman’s proclamation and proposes that the people of Shushan, observing the spectacle, interpreted it in different ways. On the one hand, Haman’s declaration (“This is what is done for the man . . .”) clearly referred to Mordecai, the man whom the king sought to honor. On the other hand, Haman had benefited from the king’s honor throughout the story. His declaration, then, may also allude to himself: “This”—humiliation and disgrace—“is what is done for the man whom the king desires to honor.” 20 Along with this humorous ambiguity, the narrator makes a veiled reference to a different declaration against which this entire scene may be read: the law of levirate marriage, as set out in Deut 25:5–10. As Haman led Mordecai, “He proclaimed before him: ‘This is what is done for the man whom (‫ )ככה יעשה לאיש אשר‬the king desires to honor!’” (6:11). This verse alludes to the declaration that a widowed woman makes if the brother of her deceased, childless husband refuses to fulfill his responsibility of perpetuating his brother’s name by marrying and having children by his widowed sister-in-law (levirate marriage): “His brother’s widow shall go up to him in the presence of the elders, pull the sandal from his foot, spit in his face, and make this declaration: ‘Thus shall be done to the man who (‫ככה‬ ‫ )יעשה לאיש אשר‬will not build up his brother’s house’” (Deut 25:9). We need not elaborate on the disdain and mockery that the Esther text directs, by means of this comparison, at the king and the honor that he proposed. Honor bestowed by the Persian king resembled a spit in the face. Mordecai attached no special importance to the event; he regarded it as the embodiment of the expression “Horses are a false hope for deliverance” (Ps 33:17). 19.  Fox, Character, 76; Laniak, Shame, 106–7. 20. D. Henshke, “Esther: A Literary Costume,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; AlonShvut: Tevunot, 1997) 104 [Heb.].

148

Chapter 11

The narrator emphasizes this immediately at the conclusion of this scene: “Then Mordecai returned to the king’s gate, while Haman hurried home, his head covered in mourning” (6:12). The mention of Mordecai’s return to the palace gate does not advance the plot in any way or even add to the scene. It indicates, however, that Mordecai’s honor did not impair his discretion and good judgment, since he returned to routine as though nothing had happened. Haman, on the other hand, experienced the same event as a catastrophe. Haman anticipated wearing the royal crown on his head but instead returned home in mourning with his head covered. 21 21.  Although some scholars maintain that Haman’s intention was for the crown to be placed on the head of the horse (such as Paton, Esther, 248–49), this in no way detracts from the connection noted here.

Chapter 12

Haman’s Advisers: Fate versus Divine Providence (Esther 6:12–13) Haman’s Return Home (6:12) Following the scene of the horse, the narrator relates that “Haman hurried (‫ )נדחף‬home, his head covered in mourning” (6:12). The root ‫ דחף‬appears four times in the entire Bible, meaning ‘hurriedly’, ‘in haste’. 1 One instance of this root is in Chronicles, in the description of Uzziah’s leprosy; it appears there in the same form as in our chapter (passive case): “When the chief priest [lit., head priest] Azariah and all the other priests looked at him, his forehead was leprous, so they rushed him out of there; he too made haste (‫ )נדחף‬to get out, for the Lord had struck him with a plague” (2 Chr 26:20). The other three appearances are all in the book of Esther: in 6:12, in the 3:15 description of the couriers’ haste (‫ )דחופים‬to publicize Haman’s decrees, and in the 8:14 haste to disseminate Mordecai’s decrees. Given the rarity of this verb, its appearance here warrants comment. 2 The connection between the various instances of “hastening” in Esther is clear: Haman, who urged the couriers to leave the palace and publicize his decree, ended up hastening home in great shame. Later, the same couriers “hasten” to disseminate the counter-decree. The question remains whether the narrator’s single reference to the Uzziah narrative is intentional. 3 I have my doubts whether the reader is meant to compare these scenes, although two additional parallels link them. First, the verb ‫‘( בהל‬rush’) 4 is also mentioned in both of them: Uzziah is “rushed” 1.  BDB, 191; M. Z. Kaddari, A Dictionary of Biblical Hebrew (Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University, 2006) 182–83 [Heb.]. 2.  It is reasonable to posit that this verb had a late entry into the Hebrew language and that for this reason it appears only in these books (Kaddari, ibid., 183). It should be noted that its meaning in even later Hebrew, ‘pushing away’, appears to be connected to the original meaning . A person who is rushing (‫ )חיפזון‬looks as though others are pushing (‫ )דוחפים‬him. 3.  This issue follows an earlier issue, the dating of the two texts (Esther and Chron­ icles), and the assumption that the author of the later text was aware of the former text. 4.  BDB, 96. See also J. Blau, “Etymologische Untersuchungen auf Grund des palaestinischen Arabisch,” VT 5 (1955), 339.

149

150

Chapter 12

out of the Temple by the priests (“they rushed him out of there”); likewise, after Haman returned home, the king’s servants came and “rushed him” from his house to the party that Esther prepared (they “hurriedly brought Haman,” 6:14). Second, in both scenes, the downfall of the person who “hastens” and “is hurried” expresses itself symbolically on the character’s head. In the story of Uzziah’s leprosy, the disease manifested itself on his forehead. This bit of information grows in importance as the text contrasts the status of Uzziah, who sought to offer incense, with the status of the priests by highlighting this very part of the body: the narrator refers to Azariah as the ‘head priest’ (‫)כהן הראש‬, 5 which emphasizes the contrast between the “head” of the priests and the leprous head of the king. Apparently, the leprosy affected Uzziah’s head specifically in order to demonstrate that the confrontation revolved around leadership—he who stands “at the head.” 6 Haman also “hurried home, his head covered in mourning.” In Haman’s case also, this image is important, because Haman had suggested to the king that the man whom the king sought to honor (as Haman understood it, this meant himself) should be led on the horse with the royal crown on his head (6:8). Now, instead of bearing the royal crown, Haman’s head is covered in shame, as a sign of mourning. 7 The similarity between Uzziah and Haman continues in the results of these two scenes: Uzziah was forced to vacate his throne and be replaced because of his leprosy (“He lived in isolated quarters as a leper, for he was cut off from the House of the Lord—while Jotham his son was in charge of the king’s house and governed the people of the land”—2 Chr 26:21). Likewise, Haman vacated his position in the king’s house and was replaced by Mordecai. As noted above, it is difficult to know whether the author deliberately links these stories. If he does, however, then perhaps he wishes to convey a particular perspective on Haman’s shame. Uzziah’s affliction came about because “the Lord had struck him.” Haman, too, the narrator indicates, suffered his fate by the hand of God, not by Ahasuerus. The significance of the connection between the two narratives goes even deeper. To illuminate its depth, I shall refer to yet another narrative that 5.  See J. M. Myers: “Frequently when the chief or head priest is referred to, the term kōhēn hā-rōʾš is used” (II Chronicles [AB 13; New York: Doubleday 1965] 109). 6.  Additionally, the forehead is where the sacred ‫ ציץ‬is worn. Part of the significance of the ‫ ציץ‬is to show that the head priest who wears it represents the entire people of Israel. This again suggests the humility with which one should come to serve in the House of the Lord. Thus, the forehead becomes a very symbolic part of the body. 7.  See above, pp. 143–144. We may conjecture that perhaps Uzziah also covered his leprous head as he hurried out of God’s House, since there is no mourning more severe than that of a leper (see the relevant laws in Lev 13:45ff., which are the laws of mourning). Compare J. Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16 (AB 3; New York: Doubleday, 1991) 816–20.

Haman’s Advisers: Fate versus Divine Providence

151

may be alluded to here. As stated, the narrator describes the manifestation of Haman’s mourning over his public humiliation in the covering of his head. 8 The “covered head” is mentioned in another biblical narrative, clearly connected to our discussion. In the description of David’s exile from Jerusalem during Absalom’s rebellion, we read, “David, meanwhile, went up the slope of the [Mount of] Olives, weeping as he went; his head was covered and he walked barefoot. And all the people who were with him covered their heads and wept as they went up” (2 Sam 15:30). Although the connection between Haman and David comes as a surprise, we cannot ignore the parallel between the two scenes: during a competition between two rivals, the losing party covers his head. Moreover, both scenes feature rebellion against and loyalty to the king as central motifs. The common denominator among these scenes, including the story of Uzziah, seems to be the issue of replacement by a rival. Mordecai stepped into Haman’s shoes after the latter’s fall, Absalom sought to overthrow his father and rule in his stead, and Uzziah attempted to minister to God in lieu of the priestly caste. Along with the “covering of the head” on the part of Haman and David, and alongside the leprosy that broke out on Uzziah’s head, each ousted character retreated into a form of exile: David left Jerusalem, relinquishing Jerusalem to Absalom; Haman hastened home, surrendering the palace gate to Mordecai; 9 and Uzziah retreated to his quarantine, leaving the Temple to Azariah and its rightful ministers. The covering of the head (with a garment or with leprosy), then, becomes a symbol of the effacement of one character for the purpose of introducing or advancing another. Head-covering symbolizes self-abnegation and surrender of one’s station. Given this connection, the difference between the conclusion of the Absalom narrative and the other two requires some attention: David ultimately returned to Jerusalem and regained his kingdom, whereas Uzziah retired permanently, and Haman’s effacement was compounded (“Haman’s face was covered” [7:8]) before his ultimate execution. The texts seem to give early indications that the endings will differ by means of the word pair that serves as a Leitwort throughout these narratives: ‫( עלה‬or ‫‘ )קום‬rising’, and ‫( נפל‬or ‫‘ )ירד‬descending’, ‘falling’. As David left Jerusalem with his head covered, the narrator emphasized his ascent: “David, meanwhile, went up the slope (‫ )מעלה‬of the [Mount of] Olives, weeping as he went up. . . . And all the people who were with him covered their heads and wept as they went up (‫( ”)ועלו עלה‬2 Sam 15:30). In contrast, when Haman entered his house, he 8.  This custom is also mentioned in Jer 14:2–4 and, by inference, in Ezek 24:17. 9.  T. K. Beal correctly points out that there is a striking contrast between Mordecai, who sits “at the king’s gate,” and Haman, who hastens “to his house” (Esther [Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999] 85). As I see it, this gives the reader a clear sense of Mordecai’s victory; he is the one who remains at the house of the king.

152

Chapter 12

heard the opposite verb from his advisers: “If Mordecai, before whom you have begun to fall, is of Jewish stock, you will not overcome him; you will fall (‫ )נפל תפול‬before him to your ruin” (6:13). 10 As we shall see below, the verb ‫ נפל‬reappears in the next scene and, as noted, it should be regarded as a key term in the fall of Haman. 11 For our purposes, suffice it to note that, although David left Jerusalem, apparently vacating his place for his rebellious son, a future “ascent” awaited him. Haman, in contrast, left the king’s gate, destined to “fall.”

Haman at Home with His Advisers (6:13) The reaction of Haman’s close advisers to his humiliation surprises the reader. Haman told them ‘everything that had befallen him’ (‫את כל אשר‬ ‫)קרהו‬, 12 and we expect them to offer encouragement and to raise his spirits. Instead, they exacerbate his despair by foretelling his imminent downfall. The night before, Zeresh and Haman’s friends advised him regarding his problem with Mordecai. Not 24 hours later, they could only predict his demise. The actual wording of their reaction only compounds our perplexity: “His advisers and his wife Zeresh said to him, ‘If Mordecai, before whom you have begun to fall, is of Jewish stock, you will not overcome him; you will fall before him to your ruin’” (6:13). Haman’s confidants seem to have been ignorant of Mordecai’s Jewishness, even though Haman perpetrated his decree of annihilation for the whole Jewish people because of Mordecai’s refusal, as a Jew, to bow before him! 13 Moreover, the expression “before whom you have begun to fall” seems irrelevant. The humiliation of this day should have had no effect on his position or on his plans to exterminate the Jews. At worst, Haman would have been forced to postpone or 10.  The alliteration that appears twice in succession in the verse, with the words ‫נפל‬ and ‫לפניו‬, leads the reader to view the verb ‫‘( נפל‬fall’) as an important verb in this scene. Likewise, the epiphora concluding the two successive statements: If Mordecai is of the seed of the Jews, that you have begun to fall before him, You shall not prevail over him, for you shall surely fall before him. 11. As Walfish comments, Haman’s career began with, “he advanced him” (3:1); it ends with him “falling” (A. Walfish, “Words of Peace and Truth,” in: Hadassa Hi Esther [ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997] 145 [Heb.]). On regarding ‫ נפל‬as a Leitwort within the narrative, see also Levenson, Esther, 104–5; T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther (SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 125. 12.  This expression unquestionably seeks to sharpen the contrast between Haman and Mordecai, who had previously told Esther ‘all that had happened to him’ (‫את כל אשר קרהו‬ [4:7]). 13.  It should be noted that Ahasuerus was aware of Mordecai’s ethnicity, as we know from his order to Haman: “Get the garb and the horse, as you have said, and do this to Mordecai the Jew, who sits in the king’s gate.” Furthermore, Mordecai clearly did not hide his Jewish identity (3:4).

Haman’s Advisers: Fate versus Divine Providence

153

cancel his plans to execute Mordecai. However, these friends completely altered their view of their situation as a result of the horse scene. 14 On the level of the literal text, the answer to this riddle may lie in the specific characterization of Haman’s group of advisers. In the description of Haman’s words to Zeresh and his other companions, the narrator states: “Haman told his wife Zeresh and all his friends (‫—אוהביו‬lit., ‘those who loved him’) everything that had befallen him.” 15 In their response, however, the narrator refers to them in a different way: “His advisers (‫—חכמיו‬lit., ‘his wise men’) and wife Zeresh” (6:13). There are two obvious differences. First, Haman, expecting to receive moral support, addressed himself principally to Zeresh, and then to his friends. In the response, however, the narrator lists the confidants before Zeresh. This group seems to fail Haman’s expectations; the associates did not respond in their capacity as Haman’s personal friends but in a different capacity, and thus Zeresh occupied a secondary position—as I shall discuss below. Second, Haman addressed himself to “his close friends,” but “his advisers” responded. These are clearly the same people, but the change in title requires explanation. 16 The term wise men appears elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible: Pharaoh (Gen 41:8) and Nebuchadnezzar (Dan 2:12–13) sought wise men to interpret troubling dreams. Earlier in Esther, Ahasuerus sought “wise men who knew the times” (1:13). 17 “Wise men,” then, reputedly knew how to interpret dreams, soothsay, and divine the future. 18 We may reasonably posit that Haman valued their ability to advise him regarding the hidden powers that govern the world, influencing success and failure, 14.  Paton and Moore point out that through the advisers’ words and their assurances of Haman’s downfall the narrator is conveying his own view more than that of the advisers themselves (L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther [ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908] 256; C. A. Moore, Esther [AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971] 66). 15.  The same descriptor is used in 5:10 and 5:14, the only other references to Haman’s cadre of friends. 16.  In the previous gathering of this group, when the men advised Haman to build a gallows, they were referred to as “his friends” (5:10, 14). Perhaps Haman addressed himself to them specifically as “his friends,” as though he sought to continue the atmosphere of the previous night. But his friends no longer responded to this title; they had turned into “his wise men”! Goldman suggests that the narrator is conveying his scorn for them: they had finally “wised up” (S. Goldman, The Five Megilloth [Soncino Books of the Bible; Hindhead, Surrey: Soncino, 1946] 226). 17. Contrary to Paton, Esther, 255. Compare also: “The Pharaoh, for his part, summoned the wise men and sorcerers; and the Egyptian sorcerers, in turn, did the same with their spells” (Exod 7:11); “who annul the omens of diviners, and make fools of the augurs; who turn sages back and make nonsense of their knowledge” (Isa 44:25). Note that although jps 1985 translates variously with “wise men,” “sages,” and “advisors,” each instance is a variant translation for the Hebrew root ‫חכם‬. 18.  See further: H. P. Müller, “Magisch-mantische Weisheit und die Gestalt Daniels,” UF 1 (1969) 79–94; M. Weinfeld, “Scribes and Wise Men in the Old Testament,” Michmanim 10 (1996) 7–18.

154

Chapter 12

prosperity and downfall. 19 Indeed, the crux of their message does not concern Mordecai’s Jewishness but the fact that, once downfall has begun, it will surely continue. 20 Such are the machinations, the experts contended, of cruel fate. Just one day previously, when Haman felt himself on top of the world (after all, Esther had invited him to a party together with the king), the same wise men/close friends had advised him to build a gallows quickly on which to hang Mordecai the very next day. The wise men instructed Haman based on their knowledge of fate’s inner workings: those who rise will continue to rise, and those who fall will continue to fall. 21 In fact, Haman’s wise men were right; they read the situation correctly. Haman, on the other hand, read it backward. Esther’s invitation of Haman, instead of representing a high honor, actually laid the foundation for his downfall. At the moment of his exultation, he had already begun to fall, and Mordecai, the inheritor of Haman’s house and position, had already begun to rise. 22 As mentioned above, the key word employed by Haman’s group of advisers, falling, continues to serve as a Leitwort in the next scene when “Haman was lying prostrate (‫ )נפל‬on the couch on which Esther reclined” (7:8). Later the verb also appears in contexts that reinforce the forecast of Haman’s demise: “many of the people of the land professed to be Jews, for the fear of the Jews had fallen upon them” (8:17); “no one could withstand them, for the fear of them had fallen upon all the peoples. Indeed, all the officials of the provinces—the satraps, the governors, and the king’s stewards—showed deference to the Jews, because the fear of Mordecai had fallen upon them” (9:2–3). This theme represents one of the deeper messages of the narrative: the attitude toward fate and fortune. Haman planned his actions by constantly “reading the cards,” casting lots to determine a fortuitous day for genocide. Ahasuerus also consulted his fortune-tellers regarding the Vashti dilemma. The narrator, as usual, refrains from any explicit statement of his disapproval of these views but, in his quiet, veiled way, scorns them. Ultimately, the 13th of Adar indeed turned out to be destined for bloodshed—as asserted by the lot-casters; and once the rising and falling had begun, they would continue—just as Haman’s wise men assured him.

19. Y. Kaufmann, History of the Israelite Faith (Tel Aviv: Bialik, 1960) 4.446. 20.  M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001) 79. 21.  See M. Margaliot, “The Hidden Battle between the God of Israel and Haman,” Beit Mikra 23 (1986) 292–300. 22.  Perhaps it is not coincidental that at the moment that fortunes began to change— when Haman saw Mordecai after the party—the word ‫ קם‬makes an appearance: ‫לא קם ולא‬ ‫( זע ממנו‬5:9).

Haman’s Advisers: Fate versus Divine Providence

155

This narrative broadcasts the message that reality is subject to reversals. The “wheel of fortune” carried the Jews from fasting and sackcloth all the way to a victory feast. The most important motif of the narrative, “The opposite took place,” assumes theological significance in this context, disdaining the fatalistic pagan world view that remains unaware that God’s will can turn the whole of reality upside down, so that Haman’s ‘lot’ (‫)פור‬ became the Jews’ Purim. Haman’s wise men thus literarily represent the fatalistic pagan world view. From this scene, the king’s chamberlains rush Haman off to Esther’s party. Perhaps the prospect of reconciliation with the king or, alternatively, of drowning his frustrations in good wine helped calm Haman.

Chapter 13

Esther’s Second Party (Esther 6:14–7:10) The narrative progresses very rapidly to the next scene, rushing Haman off to Esther’s party even as his advisers continue speaking: “While they were still speaking with him, the king’s eunuchs arrived and hurriedly brought Haman to the banquet which Esther had prepared” (6:14). In addition to providing temporal linkage, this transition connects the two scenes fundamentally: Haman’s wise men predicted his downfall and, sure enough, the words had barely escaped their mouths when the chamberlains arrived to speed Haman off to his demise. 1 The quick succession of these scenes also finds expression in the actions described: At the beginning of the scene, “Haman hurried home.” At its end, the chamberlains “hurriedly brought Haman to the banquet.” The pace of these scenes generates the sense that Haman began to feel overwhelmed by events spinning out of his control. From the moment he entered the king’s chamber to request Mordecai’s execution, he lost control over his own fate; one scene rapidly follows the next, affording him no way out, until he suffers the fate he had planned for Mordecai. 2 The verb ‫‘( בהל‬hurry’), used to describe Haman’s being taken to the king, appeared earlier in the narrative, in the description of Esther’s preparations to go to the king: “Esther too was taken into the king’s palace under the supervision of Hegai, guardian of the women. The girl pleased him and won his favor, and he hastened (‫ )ויבהל‬to furnish her with her cosmetics and her rations” (2:8–9). 3 In both scenes, the king’s servants “hurried” someone else, and in both cases the “rushed” subject must face the king. However, whereas Esther found favor in Hegai’s eyes and therefore he hastened to give her ointments, Haman had just been thoroughly humiliated by the king. The first scene sped Esther along to the moment when the king fell 1.  Compare M. Sternberg regarding this type of transition (The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading [Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985] 137). 2. “With what different emotions Haman went from those that he had anticipated (5:14)” (L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther [ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908] 257). 3.  The same root appears again later in the narrative, in the description of the couriers’ leaving to publicize Mordecai’s letters: “The couriers, mounted on royal steeds, went out in urgent haste (‫ )מבהלים‬at the king’s command” (8:14).

156

Esther’s Second Party

157

in love with her and crowned her in lieu of Vashti. The latter scene hastened Haman to face the king’s wrath and to hang on the gallows in lieu of Mordecai. In addition to the use of the verb ‫בהל‬, our verse also invokes the biblical narrator’s fixed formula for describing a blow-by-blow punishment: “This one was still speaking when another came” ( Job 1:16–18). 4 The connection between the two narratives is clear: Haman also will suffer a new calamity more devastating than having to lead Mordecai on horseback through the streets of the city. The second party begins like the first: the king asks Esther to state her concern. The narrator emphasizes this similarity: “On the second day, the king again asked Esther at the wine feast . . .” (7:2; see table 13.1). Let us compare the two parties. A cursory comparison reveals the absence of any major differences between the descriptions of the two parties. Both occasions display the same rules of etiquette: the king addressed Esther with great magnanimity (“Even to half the kingdom, it shall be fulfilled”), and she, too, addressed him with the respect due to a king (“If Your Majesty will do me the favor, and if it pleases Your Majesty”). Note further that Haman is brought speedily to both parties. As noted, this haste contributes to the narrative in that it highlights the manner in which an invisible hand seems to guide Haman’s fate. 5 Nevertheless, minor differences reflect the changes in the psychological dispositions of each of the characters between the two parties. The narrator’s description of the party attendees undergoes a subtle but important change: at the first party, the king and Haman present a united front before Esther. At the second party, the narrator describes how the men “came to feast with Queen Esther,” not how they “came to the feast that Esther had prepared.” This implies a shift in the balance of power that had been maintained thus far. The king and Haman drifted away from each other, while Esther became more comfortable as one of the three drinkers. However, there is another interesting difference, which might be considered insignificant if not for the fact that it appears two more times in the scenes. At the second party, the narrator introduced Esther by her royal title, Queen Esther, instead of simply Esther. In the second stage of the second party, the king again addressed Esther with her royal title (“What is your wish, Queen Esther”), whereas he did not invoke her name in the parallel stage of the first party. The same discrepancy as in the first stage appears again in the third stage: the “Esther replied” in the first party becomes

4. P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 (1907–8) 146. 5.  It is possible that the expression “they hurried (‫ )ויבהילו‬to bring Haman” is meant to create a more powerful emotional impression than “they hurried (‫ )מהרו‬Haman” and that it is meant to convey negative associations. If this is so, then there is also a development in the description of the speed with which events are pulling Haman along.

158

Chapter 13

Table 13.1.  Comparison of Esther’s Two Parties Invitation of Haman

The invitees’ arrival King’s offer to Esther

Esther’s reply

First Party “The king commanded, ‘Tell Haman to hurry and do Esther’s bidding.’”

“So the king and Haman came to the feast that Esther had prepared.” “At the wine feast, the king asked Esther, ‘What is your wish? It shall be granted you. And what is your request? Even to half the kingdom, it shall be fulfilled.’”

“’My wish,’ replied Esther, ‘my request—if the king will do me the favor, if it please the king to grant my wish and accede to my request. . . .’”

Second Party “While they were still speaking with him, the king’s eunuchs arrived and hurriedly brought Haman to the banquet which Esther had prepared.” “So the king and Haman came to feast with Queen Esther.” “On the second day, the king again asked Esther at the wine feast, ‘What is your wish, Queen Esther? It shall be granted you. And what is your request? Even to half the kingdom, it shall be fulfilled.’” “Queen Esther replied: ‘If Your Majesty will do me the favor, and if it pleases Your Majesty, let my life be granted me as my wish, and my people as my request.’”

“Queen Esther replied” in the second. 6 It seems that the consistent use of the royal title reflects the advance in Esther’s status from the king’s point of view. After the first party, the king had occasion to remember Mordecai’s loyalty. He probably recalled (or was told, by his royal chronicle-reader) Esther’s role in foiling the plot. Thus, the king came to drink with his queen. Esther, for her part, exploited this feeling, and, while still addressing the king in the third person as before, she also slipped in a plea addressed in the more familiar second person (“If I have found favor in your eyes, O king”). 7 A final comment on the comparison between the two parties is that the formula “my wish and my request,” uttered on both occasions, likewise undergoes an interesting development. At the first party, this expression seems like another courtesy that characterizes the dialogue between the 6.  Hakham suggests that the purpose of this difference is “to hint that this day (i.e., at the second party) she spoke assertively, like a queen” (A. Hakham, Esther [Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974] 44). 7.  C. A. Moore, Esther (AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971) 70. Jps 1985 ignores this shift, translating “If Your Majesty will do me the favor.”

Esther’s Second Party

159

king and the queen. Esther introduces her monologue with the declaration “my wish and my request” and goes on to say that if she has found favor in the eyes of the king and if it please the king to “grant my wish and accede to my request. . . .” Given the loquacious request, the reader—like the king himself—is inclined to understand her introduction as a lengthy and somewhat clumsy standard courtesy. In contrast, these words assume new meaning when, at the second party, Esther says, “Let my life be granted me as my wish, and my people as my request.” Here, the official formula already serves as part of the request itself, and owing to the addition of Esther’s “life” and her “people,” it becomes quite clear that her request had progressed well beyond diplomatic rhetoric. Thus, by the second party, the king viewed Esther as his queen, not merely his hostess or waitress. She spoke to him using the language of familiarity, and she dropped convention in favor of substance. We have already discussed the content of Esther’s request and the king’s reaction at length and will not repeat it here. 8 Rather, let us examine the literary design of this scene. Esther introduces her dramatic monologue with the verb ‫‘( נמכרנו‬we have been sold’). Laniak concludes from this that, “Although we cannot be sure what kind of monetary transaction actually took place, this reference in chap. 7 implies that the king had accepted the money offered by Haman.” 9 Contrary to Laniak’s view, I have suggested that Esther used this verb, not because the king agreed to accept payment, but because of its ambiguity, with each meaning playing a role in Esther’s rhetoric. In most cases, the verb ‫ מכר‬denotes a financial transaction, although it occasionally finds employment as a metaphor for delivery to an enemy, for example: “Then the Lord was incensed at Israel and He handed them over to foes who plundered them. He surrendered them (‫ )וימכרם‬to their enemies on all sides, and they could no longer hold their own against their enemies” ( Judg 2:14). Similarly, Deborah told Barak, “The Lord will deliver (‫ )ימכר‬Sisera into the hands of a woman” ( Judg 4:9). The list goes on. 10 In her monologue, Esther used this verb twice: once at the beginning and once at the end. The first instance clearly denotes delivery for the purpose of annihilation (not in the economic sense): “For we have been sold, my people and I, to be destroyed, massacred, and exterminated.” In the second instance, Esther intended the monetary sense of the word: “Had we only been sold as bondmen and bondwomen, I would have kept silent.” For the king (and the reader), this wordplay highlights the fundamental distinction between the decrees to which he agreed (slavery; “being sold” 8.  See above, the discussion beginning on p. 102. 9.  T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther (SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 112. 10.  BDB, 569; M. Z. Kaddari, A Dictionary of Biblical Hebrew (Ramat-Gan: Bar Ilan University, 2006) 612–13. [Heb.]

160

Chapter 13

in the economic sense) and the decrees that Haman actually publicized (annihilation; “being sold” in the sense of military surrender). Esther emphasized the personal aspect of her request, mentioning her own survival first (“let my life be granted me as my wish”) and the broader aspect later (“and my people as my request” [7:3]). Esther repeated this scale of priorities later in her monologue: “For we have been sold, I and my people” (7:4). 11 Apparently, Esther believed that emphasizing her own plight would have the greatest influence on the king. 12 Interestingly, Esther never mentioned her ethnicity during her monologue. She put in a request on behalf of her people without identifying them. No less surprisingly, the king never inquired about the identity of her people. The lack of explicit mention of the people’s identity reaches its ironic climax in the closing image of the party, when Harbonah mentioned to the king that Haman planned to hang Mordecai. Even at this stage of the plot, the king remained unaware of the connection between Mordecai and Esther. From his point of view, two different plots converged in the person of Haman: (1) his plan to harm the queen and her people; and (2) his plan to hang Mordecai, the king’s loyal subject (the king first learned of the connection between Esther and Mordecai in 8:1). 13 Esther’s continued concealment of her ethnic identity adds two dimensions to this stage of the plot. First, it emphasizes the personal aspect of Esther’s plea; Esther asked for the salvation of “my people” (twice!), as though the importance of this people lay in Esther’s affiliation, and everything else—even the very identity of the people—remained irrelevant to the king. Second, the concealment of the people’s identity seems to heap further scorn on the king. In his rage, he ordered the hanging of Haman without taking the trouble to investigate even the most elementary facts. Just as the king remained ignorant when Haman pitched his plan (and hid its target), he remained equally ignorant when hanging Haman for his crimes! 14 This scene, like its predecessor, emphasizes the pace of events, culminating in Esther’s climactic outcry—a series of short syllables: /‫ואויב‬/‫צר‬/‫איש‬/ 11.  Jps 1985 reverses the order of the original in its translation because of the constraints of English grammar. 12.  Compare A. Berlin, Esther (jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001) 73–74 (on 8:5). Levenson compares it with Exodus 33 (Moses, like Esther, pleads with God for the life of his people ( J. D. Levenson, Esther [OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997] 101). 13.  Compare E. Bickerman, Four Strange Books of the Bible (New York: Schocken, 1967) 171–84. 14. In light of the omission of Esther’s Jewish identity, it remains unclear at what stage Haman became aware that the queen was implicating him (indeed, some scholars maintain that Haman was unaware at first; see T. K. Beal, Esther [Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1999] 89–90). It should be noted that Haman was “struck with terror (‫)נבעת‬ before the king and the queen” only after Esther identified him explicitly (7:6).

Esther’s Second Party

161

‫הזה‬ ‫הרע‬/‫המן‬/ (‘The adversary and enemy is this evil Haman’). 15 Possibly for the sake of cadence, the narrator omits Esther’s title, noting merely that “Esther replied.” The pace of this scene is also molded by the narrator’s jumping from one character to another, from the king to Haman, with the subject preceding its predicate (a relatively unusual style in the Hebrew text):   Esther replied: “The adversary and enemy is this evil Haman!” And  Haman cringed in terror (‫ )והמן נבעת‬before the king and the queen.   The king got up (‫ )והמלך קם‬in a rage and left the wine feast for the palace garden, while  Haman remained (‫ )והמן עמד‬to plead with Queen Esther for his life; for he saw that the king had resolved to destroy him. When   the king returned (‫ )והמלך שב‬from the palace garden to the banquet room,  Haman was fallen (‫ )והמן נפל‬on the couch where Esther was.   And the king cried, “Does he mean to ravish the queen in my own palace?”   No sooner did these words leave the king’s lips than Haman’s face was covered.

This technique of alternation serves to speed up the pace and add to the tension. The narrator has no time, as it were, to fill in a full description of each character and his or her actions and feelings, because the next character is already (speedily!) doing or saying something. The reader may notice the concentric structure of these verses: they begin with a description of a frightened Haman and end with him on the couch; the intervening verses describe King Ahasuerus—his exit to and return from the palace garden. 16 At the center, as the central axis (and longest sentence) of this scene, Haman stands aghast before Esther. If this structure is intentional, the image of Haman standing before Esther makes an even stronger impression. As noted, the verb ‘fall’ (‫ )נפל‬is a Leitwort in the description of Haman’s downfall. Thus, in the central image of the scene, Haman falls on Esther’s divan, never to rise again. 17 Haman’s “fall” is highlighted through his attempt to do the opposite; however, this 15.  “Against the background of her flowery preamble and meek apology, Esther’s denunciation of Haman cracks out in angry staccato” (M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther [2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001] 86). 16.  First the king left ‘the wine feast’ (‫)משתה היין‬, but then he returned to ‘the banquet room’ (‫)בית משתה היין‬. This addition appears to be preparing for what the king is about to say: “Does he mean to . . . even while I am present in the house?!” 17. Ruth Walfish notes that this verb is used right at the outset, in the casting of the lot, referred to in Hebrew as “‫( ”הפיל פור‬3:7; lit., ‘causing the lot to fall’), as well as in the king’s words to Haman: “Let nothing fall (‫ )אל תפל‬of all that you have spoken” (6:10). The verb that arguably represents the opposite movement, in Esther, is ‫‘( נשא‬to elevate’), which is used in connection with the promotion of Haman as well as the promotion of

162

Chapter 13

verb is emphasized specifically through the narrator’s use of its opposite— standing: “Haman remained (‫עמד‬, lit., ‘stood’) to plead with Queen Esther.” Haman tried to “stand” to escape his imminent “fall” but to no avail. 18 In this sense, the central axis of the scene where Haman fell is actually the place where Haman “stood”—the moment when he clutched at his status with his last bit of strength, desperate to reverse his imminent downfall. Haman’s pathetic position and reversal of fortune gain special prominence here. A moment before, Esther was pleading for her life (“let my life be granted me as my wish, and my people as my request [‫]בקשתי‬,” 7:3), and suddenly Haman finds himself in the position of having to beg for his life (“Haman remained to plead [‫ ]לבקש‬with Queen Esther for his life,” 7:7). Haman, adversary of the Jews, pleaded with the Jewish queen, “falling” before her; or, as one may choose to view it: bowing and prostrating himself before her. 19 As noted several times, since the author of the book of Esther writes in a concealed way, his characters, particularly the king and Haman, act without awareness of the full situation. This scene provides a striking example. Esther succeeded in creating the impression that Haman, in writing the decree of annihilation, rebelled against the king. The king found proof of these allegations in the fact that Haman fell on Esther’s couch, indicating to the king that Haman wished to inherit the queen, in the manner of usurpers. Though the narrator indicated Haman’s true intentions, the king, either because of his poor judgment in general or because of his inebriated state, seemingly could not distinguish between a desperate plea and attempted rape. Alternatively, perhaps, as Haupt, Hakham, Berlin, and others posit, the king understood full well that Haman was not attempting to assault the queen, but it suited his purposes to create that pretense. 20 According to this reading, the king played an active role in the concealment in this scene, hiding his true intentions for hanging Haman. It appears that Haman never quite understood the strange series of events that culminated in his death. Mordecai. See R. Walfish, “The Role of the Secondary Characters in the Book of Esther,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 145 [Heb.]. 18.  It is interesting that, with reference to the king, the narrator states that “he arose” from the wine party in his anger while, when it comes to Haman, we read that he “stood” to plead for his life. Hakham notes (Esther, 45, in his second explanation) that the verb ‫עמד‬ also connotes a plea of supplication (as, for example, in Jer 15:1), and therefore this verb is most appropriate here in connection with Haman. Attention should be paid to the process of inversion experienced by both men in this scene: the king “arises” and “returns” (related, in Hebrew, to the word “sit”) [in relation to the garden], while Haman “stands” and “falls” [in relation to Esther]. 19. R. Murphy, Wisdom Literature: Job, Proverbs, Ruth, Canticles, Ecclesiastes and Esther (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1981) 166; S. Goldman, “Narrative and Ethical Ironies in Esther,“ JSOT 47 (1990) 18. 20.  Haupt, “Critical Notes,” 150–51; Hakham, Esther, 47; Berlin, Esther, 70.

Esther’s Second Party

163

A final comment: this scene contains several wordplays. Firstly, in the king’s astonished words “Does he mean to ravish (‫ )לכבוש‬the queen in my own palace?” we hear an echo of the word ‘to lie’ (‫)לשכב‬, a word with a sexual connotation, making the reader aware of both criminal aspects of Haman’s behavior: seduction of the king’s wife and “conquest,” or usurpation. Second, the unusual expression “No sooner did these words leave (‫הדבר‬ ‫ )יצא‬the king’s lips” evokes the only other place in the Bible where “a word emerged” from somewhere: I refer here to the words of Laban and Bethuel to Abraham’s servant: “Then Laban and Bethuel answered, ‘The matter was decreed by (‫ )יצא הדבר‬the Lord; we cannot speak to you bad or good’” (Gen 24:50). It may be that the author of Esther is implying that the words that emerged from the king’s lips in essence emerged from God’s decree. Wordplays also feature in the content of Esther’s plea for her life: “For we have been sold, my people and I, to be destroyed, massacred, and exterminated. Had we only been sold as bondmen and bondwomen, I would have kept silent; for the distress is not worthy of the king’s trouble” (7:4). Commentators have proposed several different interpretations of this opaque verse. 21 One of the issues that complicate the reading of the verse is the meaning of the word ‫הצר‬, which can mean (1) ‘the distress’ or (2) ‘the adversary’. 22 Both of these meanings are appropriate to the context of Esther’s speech, but it seems that the first meaning above (‘distress, trouble’) better suits the context. 23 Accordingly, Esther claimed that had she and her people been sold into servitude she would have kept silent, for the severity of their suffering would not justify causing the king “damage” (financial loss or anguish). 24 Esther’s contrast of two types of distress (annihilation versus slavery) reinforces this reading. In Esther’s answer to the king’s demand for the identity of the perpetrator, the word appears again, this time in its second sense: “The adversary (‫ )איש צר‬and enemy is this evil Haman!” (7:6) Because of the proximity of the two appearances of the same word, many have assumed the same meaning for the first appearance: “The adversary is not worth the damage that he is about to cause the king in annihilating an entire nation.” 25 The 21.  Some have even suggested amending the verse to read, for example, “The deliverance would not have equaled. . . .” For a review and discussion of the various amendments, see: R. Gordis, “Studies in the Esther Narrative,” JBL 95 (1976) 55–56. 22. This is in addition to the problem of explaining the word “‫(—בנזק‬with/of) the trouble/damage,” a hapax legomenon. Concerning this meaning of the word ‫צר‬, see: Judg 11:7; 1 Sam 13:6; Isa 63:9; Ps 119:143; 1 Chr 28:22 (BDB, 865; M. Z. Kaddari, A Dictionary of Biblical Hebrew [Ramat-Gan: Bar Ilan University, 2006] 923–24 [Heb.]). 23.  This represents the reading suggested, for example, by Moore (Esther, 68) and Gordis (“Studies,” 55–56). 24.  Fox (Character, 282) interprets “damage” in the financial sense, while Bush interprets it in the political sense (F. Bush, Ruth, Esther [WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998] 422). 25.  C. C. Torrey, “The Older Book of Esther,” HTR 37 (1944) 36. Jps 1985 also translates thus. Fox maintains that for the purposes of clarifying the meaning of “distress” the

164

Chapter 13

narrative encourages the reader in yet another way to view Haman as the referent of the word ‫הצר‬. Esther’s words “The adversary is not worthy (‫אין‬ ‫ )שוה‬of the king’s trouble” recall Haman’s urging of the king to agree to the destruction of the Jews: “It is not in Your Majesty’s interest (‫ )אין שוה‬to tolerate them” (3:8). 26 This evocation reinforces the understanding that Esther is referring to Haman, in effect saying: “The adversary who speaks to the king about his ‘interests’ is not ‘worth’ the king’s trouble.” Ultimately, the plausibility of and evidence for both readings suggest that this ambiguity is intentional, 27 and both proposed readings have a place in the literary design of the unit in question. 28 This wordplay contributes, first and foremost, to the absolute identification of Haman (the adversary, with his decrees of annihilation) with the distress itself—that is, making Haman interchangeable with the word distress. Beyond this, however, the ambiguity of the word ‫ צר‬also implies scorn for the king who, in complete contrast to the reader, remains clueless about the goings-on of his own kingdom. The reader, fully aware of the adversary’s identity, is taken aback by the king’s own amazement and at his question: “Who is he and where is he?” (7:5).

“Haman’s Face Was Covered” (7:8) Following Ahasuerus’s shock and outrage at finding Haman fallen upon Esther’s divan, the narrator relates, ‫‘( ופני המן חפו‬Haman’s face was covered’ [7:8]). This expression is difficult to interpret in our context. 29 The word ‫ חפו‬appears to mean ‘covered’; in most cases, it appears in the context of a head covering, as in: “David, meanwhile, went up the slope of the [Mount of] Olives, weeping as he went up; his head was covered (‫ )וראש לו חפוי‬and vocalization of the Masoretic Text should be changed here from a qameṣ to a pataḥ (Fox, Character, 282), but Bush asserts that the change in vocalization is not sufficient to distinguish definitively between the two meanings (Bush, Esther, 427). 26.  And again in Haman’s words in 5:13. 27. As Berlin suggests: “but it may be better to take it as a double-entendre with both meanings registering together” (Berlin, Esther, 68). See also my Ambiguity in the Biblical Narrative and its Contribution to the Literary Formation (Ph.D. Diss., Bar-Ilan University, 2006) 47–49 [Heb.]. 28.  To these two aspects, it should be added that the words ‫ אויב‬and ‫‘( צר‬enemy’ and ‘adversary’) are a common word pair in the Bible and in Ugaritic writings (as demonstrated by U. Cassuto, Biblical and Canaanite Literature [2 vols.; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1972–79] 1.45), to such an extent that the reader’s consciousness is ready for the encounter with the ‘enemy’ when s/he sees the word ‫צר‬. 29. Some scholars have proposed reading it as ‫חפרו‬, implying shame (based on the Septuagint; see: F. Perles, Analekten zur Textkritik des Alten Testaments [Munich: Ackermann, 1895] 32); A. Condamin, “Notes Critiques sur le Texte Biblique,” RB 7 (1898) 258–61. The advantage of this reading is that it focuses the action on Haman’s face, in light of the accepted expression ‫‘( פנים חפים‬an innocent face’, as in “Men look to Him and are radiant; let their faces not be downcast”—Ps 34:6). The disadvantage, obviously, is that it involves amending the Masoretic Text. For additional possibilities, see Fox, Character, 283.

Esther’s Second Party

165

he walked barefoot. All the people who were with him covered their heads (‫ )חפו איש ראשו‬and wept as they went up” (2 Sam 15:30). 30 Another example: “Because of the ground there is dismay, for there has been no rain on the earth. The plowmen are shamed; they cover their heads (‫ ( ”)חפו ראשם‬Jer 14:4). Here in Esther 7, Ibn Ezra interprets the word ‫ חפו‬as a transitive verb, an action that others perform upon Haman: “They—i.e., the servants—covered his face . . . for such was the law of the kings of Persia: that if the king was angry with a person, the king’s servants would cover that person’s face so that the king would no longer see him; this is a known phenomenon in the books of Persia.” 31 Note that, in the Persian kingdom, servants of the king, as we saw in 1:14, enjoyed the privilege of looking at the king’s face. Covering Haman’s face, then, unmistakably marked his fall from the king’s favor. Considering the very lofty status that he previously enjoyed, this represents a terrible blow. Modern scholars adopt the view that covering the face marked pending execution. 32 According to this reading, the king’s servants understood from his reaction that Haman’s fate was sealed. This, however, seems unlikely because the king had not yet issued any orders. Would the chamberlains unilaterally and instantly presume to know the fate that awaited the erstwhile second-in-command? 33 It is possible that this phrase was meant as a metaphor for Haman’s suffering and not as a literal description of his situation. 34 Whatever the exact significance of this act is, it also plays a literary role. The same word appears in connection with Haman at the end of the previous scene: “Haman hurried home, his head covered (‫( ”)חפוי ראש‬6:12). In this way, the narrator highlights the continuity in the fall of Haman. After the king commanded him to lead Mordecai on the horse, he “covered” his head; now, having been accused by the king of trying to assault Queen Esther, his face is again “covered.” However, this literary connection offers much more than continuity between scenes and images. Both scenes show how Haman’s plans went awry and were turned upside down, each time in a similar way. When speaking with the king, he thought about what he believed to be his imminent honor (“Whom would the king desire to honor more than me?”). Ultimately, he proposed the honor that he then begrudgingly bestowed 30.  See above, p. 151. 31.  See also Hakham, Esther, 46. Similarly, there is Greek and Roman evidence of covering the face of a person who had angered the king, as Ibn Ezra indicates. See Fox, Character, 283. 32.  Paton, Esther, 264; Moore, Esther, 72. 33.  See also Condamin, “Notes Critiques,” 258–61. 34. G. Gerleman, Esther (BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973) 123– 24; D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story ( JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 195 n. 12.

166

Chapter 13

on Mordecai. At Esther’s party, Harbonah mentioned another of Haman’s plans—to hang Mordecai—that backfired at his own expense. Thus, in both scenes, Haman and Mordecai exchanged places. 35 The covering of Haman’s face indicates this very idea: reality remained hidden from Haman’s view; he could not see the events unfolding right before his eyes.

“Also Harbonah Is Remembered for Good” As noted, Harbonah (“one of the eunuchs”) appeared on the scene immediately following the covering of Haman’s face and denounced Haman to the king. His very presence surprises the reader, still operating under the impression that only the king, Haman, and Esther attended the party. Even if one argues that the presence of chamberlains is implied at any royal affair and that Harbonah had seen and heard enough to understand the situation, the fact that he spoke to the king without invitation, informing him of Haman’s plan to hang the loyal Mordecai is surprising. Remember that Haman never had the opportunity to request the king’s permission to hang Mordecai (the horse scene intervened), so the king presumably remained in the dark about the gallows at Haman’s house. Harbonah’s motivation for speaking up thus remains puzzling. Apparently, everyone present could gauge the king’s mood, and Harbonah simply reflected the atmosphere in the room. If we accept Ibn Ezra’s thesis that “the servants covered Haman’s face,” then we must conclude that the king revealed his anger toward Haman publicly, and it then became clear to Harbonah that he could speak out against Haman with no fear of punishment. The literary shaping of the scene to portray Harbonah’s outburst as happening suddenly conveys a sense of serendipity. The last thing Haman needed at this point was for someone to mention his attempt to kill one of the king’s most loyal subjects. Yet the king learned of this fact from Harbonah, who seemingly had nothing at all to do with the plot. Jewish tradition immortalized Harbonah’s role in the liturgical poem “Ašēr Hēnî,” recited after the reading of the Scroll of Esther on Purim. The poem concludes: Cursed is Haman, who tried to destroy me / Blessed is Mordecai the Jew. Cursed is Zeresh, the wife of my tormentor / Blessed is Esther, on my side. Cursed are all the wicked / Blessed are all the righteous. And also Harbonah is remembered for good.

These lines contrast three examples of the “blessed” with three of the “cursed”: first the heroes and villains of the narrative, and then the righteous and wicked in general, thereby hinting that the characters of the 35. Compare Beal, Esther, 94.

Esther’s Second Party

167

narrative represent typologies. After this broad generalization, the poem returns to a specific character in the narrative and breaks its contrasting structure: “And also Harbonah is remembered for good.” Harbonah defies the categories of “blessed” and “cursed,” unlike the other characters, yet he still warrants a positive mention. Harbonah’s liturgical position mirrors his narrative position: a party-crasher—an afterthought who makes a surprise appearance at the end. Harbonah articulated the prevailing atmosphere of the second party, that Haman’s treachery went beyond his assault on Esther; he also sought to put Mordecai, the king’s loyal subject, to death! Not only did Haman assault the queen in the king’s house, he also erected a gallows at his house on which to hang Mordecai. By means of his words, Harbonah created a connection between Haman’s assault on Esther and his plan for Mordecai, which notifies the reader of a connection between Haman’s falling on Esther’s couch and his desire to hang Mordecai for not having agreed to “fall” (prostrate himself). The relationship between Haman’s plans for Esther and Mordecai may have been lost on the king and any others present. 36 Esther made no mention of her Jewishness, and she did not introduce Mordecai as a relative until 8:1. Hence, Harbonah’s interjection, which the reader understands to be related to Haman’s overall plans, may have compounded Haman’s crime in the king’s eyes as a totally distinct example of Haman’s treachery. Once again, the narrator clearly took pains to hide the simplest and most elementary facts of the plot from its characters. The king himself acted without a proper understanding of the overall situation. Harbonah connected Haman’s crimes by means of the word “also” (“What is more [‫]גם‬, a gallows is standing at Haman’s house”). In fact, the word appeared earlier in the scene, in a similar context. When the king discovered Haman lying on the queen’s couch, he raged: “Does he also mean (‫ )וגם‬to ravish the queen in my own palace?” (7:8). The two instances of this word contribute to the cumulative progression of Haman’s evil in the kings eyes: from he wishes to kill Esther and her people to he wishes to rape the queen with me in the house to he wishes to kill Mordecai, who saved my life. Harbonah seems to be more than a neutral observer in this scene. He shapes his report to reflect and promote his personal views and preferences, adding the superfluous analepsis, “whose words saved the king” (7:9). Apparently, Harbonah wanted to exacerbate Haman’s treason: not only did Haman plan to take Esther for himself (after “standing” to plead for his life), he also tried to eliminate individuals loyal to the king (by hanging them from the gallows “standing” at his house). 36.  As we noted above, p. 159.

168

Chapter 13

Without a moment's hesitation, the king passed judgment on his closest adviser: “The king said: Hang him on it.” Indeed—“they hanged Haman on the gallows which he had put up for Mordecai.” 37 Here the narrative makes no effort to hide its scorn for Haman, clearly emphasizing the reversal of the situation by noting that Haman was hanged on the very gallows he had prepared for Mordecai (7:10). We must not conclude our discussion of Harbonah without referring to his earlier appearance in the narrative, when Ahasuerus sent chamberlains to call for Vashti: “On the seventh day, when the king was merry with wine, he ordered Mehuman, Bizzetha, Harbona, Bigtha, Abagtha, Zethar, and Carcas, the seven eunuchs in attendance on King Ahasuerus, to bring Queen Vashti before the king wearing a royal diadem” (1:10–11). In both scenes, Harbonah attended to the king during a party, as a member of a select group who ministered “before (‫ )פני‬King Ahasuerus” (that is, they look at his face). As we recall, at Esther’s party, “they covered Haman’s face (‫)פני המן‬,” and he lost the prestige of looking at the king. Harbonah, who could still look at the king, therefore felt confident enough to denounce him. We may deepen the link between Harbonah’s two appearances by noting the similarity of his roles and the manner in which he advances the plot in each case. In chap. 1, he went to fetch Vashti, who refused to present herself and therefore lost her position (and perhaps her life). Similarly, in chap. 7, he told the king about the gallows that Haman had prepared, instigating Haman’s immediate demise. In both scenes, the removal of the offending party caused the king’s anger to subside (2:1, 7:9), after which he found replacements in the form of the heroes of the story, Mordecai and Esther. 38 At the same time, Harbonah represents the instability of Ahasuerus’s realm. The fact that a queen, or a king’s second-in-command, can be removed from the palace based on the words of “one of the eunuchs” 37.  The king’s speedy verdict here contrasts with what we have seen thus far, where every decision required consultation with servants or ministers. Not only is the manner of the decision-making different here, but the lack of focus on detail lends the scene a sense of speed and decisiveness: “In earlier episodes involving recommendations to the king, the advice given has been explicit with regard to the details of procedure. This time, however, the king does not need to have things spelled out for him” (Beal, Esther, 94). 38. Similarly Berlin, Esther, 71. Hakham posits that Harbonah was the king’s messenger to bring whatever he desired, and so he “happened” to catch sight of the gallows at Haman’s house: “It appears that he is the same one who was mentioned previously, in 1:10, among the chamberlains who were sent to bring Vashti; now, he is one of the chamberlains dispatched to fetch Haman from his house to Esther’s party. Harbonah reached Haman’s house as the latter was consulting with his close friends about Mordecai, and there he saw the gallows” (Hakham, Esther, 46). This is an interesting interpretation, but since there is no mention in the text that Harbonah was among those who brought Haman from his house, the idea is somewhat doubtful.

Esther’s Second Party

169

clearly testifies to the capriciousness of this king who reigns from India to Ethiopia. 39 We may almost say that Harbonah (‫ )חרבונה‬held a sword (‫ )חרב‬in his hand—a “revolving sword”—that may at any time strike at one person and lift up another. 40 39.  See above in the discussion on Esther 1 (pp. 48–54). 40. The Persian meaning of the name is probably ‘the bald man’ (H. S. Gehman, “Notes on the Persian Words in the Book of Esther,” JBL 43 [1924] 323).

Chapter 14

Mordecai Appointed over Haman’s House, and Esther before the King Again (Esther 8:1–8) Mordecai’s True Reward Immediately after Haman’s hanging “on the gallows that he had put up for Mordecai,” the narrator describes how the king gave Haman’s estate to Esther, who in turn put Mordecai in charge (8:1–2). This represents a complete turnaround: Haman’s corpse dangled from the gallows meant for Mordecai, while Mordecai took over Haman’s house. The narrator links these images temporally as well: “That very day King Ahasuerus gave the property of Haman, the enemy of the Jews, to Queen Esther” (8:1). This scene also highlights Esther’s centrality as the driver of the plot: Mordecai presented himself to the king because of Esther’s word and assumed control of Haman’s estate at her behest. Note the verb used to describe Esther’s activity: “Esther had revealed (‫ )הגידה‬how [Mordecai] was related to her” (8:1). This contrasts with chap. 2, where “Esther did not reveal (‫ )לא הגידה‬her people or her kindred” (2:10). Later, when Esther mentioned her people (“For we have been sold, my people and I”), she also revealed her familial and, by extension, ethnic origins. This also emphasizes that Esther took over Mordecai’s role as the caretaker and consequently his literary role as the main character. 1 The two verses that describe Mordecai’s meeting with the king assume special significance in the context of the literary structure of the units currently under discussion. On the one hand, they introduce the literary framework of chap. 8 as a whole. At the beginning of the chapter: “Mordecai presented himself to the king. . . . The king slipped off his ring, which he had taken back from Haman, and gave it to Mordecai” (8:1–2). At its end: “Mordecai left the king’s presence in royal robes of blue and white, with a magnificent crown of gold and a mantle of fine linen and purple wool” (8:15). This framework provides a concise spatial account of Mordecai’s 1. For ‫ מולדת‬in the sense of ‘family’ (rather than country of origin) see, for example, Lev 18:9: “The nakedness of your sister—your father’s daughter or mother’s, whether born in the household (‫ )מולדת בית‬or outside—do not uncover their nakedness.” For extensive discussion of the relationship between the two concepts, see TWOT, ˆ§867.

170

Mordecai Appointed over Haman’s House

171

actions: he came before the king, and he left. On arrival, he received the king’s ring, and on departure, he donned royal robes. 2 This structure provides an important framework for understanding of the contents of the chapter—the dispatch of Mordecai’s letters—as we shall explain later. However, these same verses also appear to serve as a literary conclusion to the preceding unit. The lengthy unit that began with chap. 6 closes with Mordecai’s assuming control of Haman’s property (8:1–2). The unit bears a concentric structure: 3 A.  “That night, sleep deserted the king”—the king decided to reward Mordecai (6:1–3)   B.  Haman came to ask that Mordecai be hanged “on the gallows he had prepared for him” (6:4–5)    C.  The king’s consultation with Haman, “What should be done (‫ )לעשות‬for a man whom the king desires to honor?” (6:6–9)     D.  Haman led Mordecai on the horse and returned home, “his head covered in mourning” (6:10–12)      E.  Haman’s advisers and Zeresh foretold that he would “fall” before Mordecai (6:13–14)      F.  Esther’s speech: exposure of the adversary and enemy threatening to annihilate Esther’s people (7:1–6)      E′.  Haman “fell” on Esther’s bed, pleading for mercy (7:7–8a)     D′.  Haman was accused of assaulting the queen; “Haman’s face was covered” (7:8b)    C′.  Harbonah revealed to the king that Haman “made (‫ ”)עשה‬a gallows for Mordecai, “whose words saved the king” (7:9).   B′.  Haman hanged “on the gallows that he had put up for Mordecai” A′.  “That very day the king gave . . .”—the king rewarded Mordecai

We have already discussed the connections between the parallel items in this chiasm, for example: the king’s order to hang Haman on the gallows that he had prepared for Mordecai (B–B′), the covering of Haman’s face (D– D′), and Haman’s prolonged “fall” (E–E′). The structure further contributes to the dramatic irony of the king’s question to Haman (C) by linking it to Harbonah’s revelation of Haman’s plot against Mordecai (C′), highlighting Haman’s misunderstanding and the discrepancy between the king’s plan for Mordecai and Haman’s plan for Mordecai. Each of these parallels emphasizes an aspect of Haman’s downfall.

2.  This literary envelope stands out prominently in comparison with the parallel description of Joseph standing before Pharaoh. There, the ring and the royal robes feature together (Gen 41:42). 3. Concentric structures, so prevalent in the book of Esther (indeed, the book as a whole has a concentric structure), relate well to the prevalent theme of reversal (compare D. A. Dorsey, The Literary Structure of the Old Testament: A Commentary on Genesis–Malachi [Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books; 1999] 162–64).

172

Chapter 14

However, the concentric structure of this unit relates to Mordecai, not Haman. It opens with the king’s desire to reward Mordecai for saving his life (A), and ends with the transfer of his ring to him (A′). An additional link between these scenes pertains to Esther’s role in each. She served as the courier to the king for Mordecai’s warning about the conspiring chamberlains, the event that indebted the king to Mordecai, and she also served as the agent through which Mordecai met the king to receive the ring and come into control of Haman’s property. Therefore, this later scene should be regarded as the realization of the king’s desire to reward Mordecai. This represents the final redemption of a “plot voucher”: at the beginning of the story, Mordecai saved the king from conspiring chamberlains, who were then hanged; later, the king saved Mordecai from Haman, who was then hanged. Indeed, an appropriate payback!

Haman’s Estate We still need to understand the significance of transferring control of Haman’s estate to Esther. To do so, we must first understand the nature of the estate—whether it was Haman’s private home or whether it represented his position or “ministry.” The latter alternative seems more intuitive since Haman’s death generated a vacancy in the king’s cabinet that needed to be filled quickly. It seems logical that, as recompense to Esther and as proof that the king had not been involved in the plot to annihilate her people, he made her responsible for this portfolio. She, in turn, promoted someone that both she and the king could trust to fill the position. Nevertheless, we must not rule out the possibility that the narrator may be referring to Haman’s private home. 4 This possibility arises in connection with the edict of Darius in Ezra: “I also issue an order that whoever alters this decree shall have a beam removed from his house, and he shall be hanged from it, and his house confiscated” (Ezra 6:11). There, violation of the king’s word warranted punishment by hanging and destruction of the home. This apparently represented a sort of collective punishment that insinuated the complicity of the perpetrator’s family. Regardless, it provides a cognate case in which a crime (rebellion) was punishable by the same two penalties that Haman suffered. 5 If the king’s words in Ezra indeed reflect an accepted law in Persia, then this may be the background to the situation in our chapter of Esther. 6 In this reading, Ahasuerus chose to give Haman’s house to Esther, instead of destroying it. 4.  “[I]ncludes all his property, that is, his real estate and other holdings” (C. A. Moore, Esther [AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971] 77l; also: T. K. Beal, Esther [Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1999] 97; A. Berlin, Esther [jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001] 72). 5.  Tg. Esth. 7:9 explicitly connects the edict in Ezra with the passage in Esther. 6.  Both Herodotus (3.128–29) and Josephus (Ant. 2.17) testify to confiscation of property by the ruler, as noted by D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story ( JSOTSup

Mordecai Appointed over Haman’s House

173

Perhaps the truth lies somewhere in between: Haman’s personal property may have been a large estate within the royal precincts, where Haman both lived and operated. 7 The relaying of Haman’s house to Esther (under Mordecai’s charge) highlights the thoroughness of the reversal: Haman hung from the gallows that he prepared for Mordecai, while Mordecai sat in Haman’s estate and assumed his royal position. The king transferred his ring from Haman’s hand to Mordecai’s. 8 In this context, it becomes clear why these verses mention Haman three times, despite his prior demise: •  “That very day King Ahasuerus gave the property of Haman, the enemy of the Jews, to Queen Esther” (king vis-à-vis Esther) •  “The king slipped off his ring, which he had taken back from Haman, and gave it to Mordecai” (king vis-à-vis Mordecai) •  “Esther put Mordecai in charge of Haman’s property” (Esther vis-à-vis Mordecai) However, the giving of Haman’s estate to Esther and Mordecai is expanded beyond the bounds of purely literary-esthetic considerations and assumes a real role in the development of the plot. If Mordecai assumed control of Haman’s ministry, he perforce gained access to Haman’s most confidential and detailed plans for the annihilation of the Jews, perhaps including lists of allies, weapons caches, census rolls, and so on. Indeed, the continuation of the narrative indicates that Mordecai made good use of the information.

Esther’s Plea to the King Immediately following the reversal discussed above, Esther asked the king to cancel Haman’s decrees. Here the reader encounters the following description: “Esther spoke to the king again, falling at his feet and weeping, and beseeching him (‫ )ותתחנן לו‬to avert the evil plotted by Haman the Agagite” (8:3). This fulfilled Mordecai’s earlier command to “go to the king and to appeal to him (‫ )להתחנן לו‬and to plead with him for her people” (4:8). 9 It is interesting to note that it was only in this request, moments after Mordecai returned to the scene, that Esther fulfilled his original command to appeal to the king. Is it possible that the text is hinting at Esther’s docility when she was in the presence of Mordecai? Structurally, Esther presented her case as two separate requests, although in terms of content the two seem redundant. The first entreaty was “Esther 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 314. 7.  For this reason, several translators prefer to replace the literally more accurate ‘Haman’s house’ with “Haman’s property” (jps) or “Haman’s estate” (nib, niv). 8.  As Harbonah noted, the gallows, which Haman had prepared for Mordecai, stood “at Haman’s house” (7:9); that day, Mordecai received “Haman’s house,” perhaps with Haman still dangling in the courtyard, from the gallows he prepared for Mordecai! 9.  M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001), 92; Berlin, Esther, 73.

174

Chapter 14

spoke to the king again, falling at his feet and weeping, and beseeching him to avert the evil plotted by Haman the Agagite against the Jews” (8:3). The king

responded to this request by extending his scepter: “The king extended the golden scepter to Esther, and Esther arose and stood before the king” (8:4). Thereupon, Esther repeated her request: “If it please Your Majesty,” she said, “and if I have won your favor and the proposal seems right to Your Majesty, and if I am pleasing to you—let dispatches be written countermanding those which were written by Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite, embodying his plot to annihilate the Jews throughout the king’s provinces. For how can I bear to see the disaster which will befall my people! And how can I bear to see the destruction of my kindred!” (8:5–6)

A cursory comparison shows that, indeed, no great difference lies between the two requests (with the possible exception of the words “to avert the evil plotted by Haman the Agagite,” which become, “countermanding those which were written by Haman,” though this does not seem much different either). 10 However, a marked shift in mood takes place between the two requests. The first seems like a burst of emotion that Esther herself could not control, falling at the king’s feet, weeping and begging. 11 The Persian king seemed taken aback by the emotional outburst that so deviated from diplomatic etiquette. Thus, he reacted with polite impatience, extending his scepter to Esther and inviting her to articulate her entreaty properly. Esther takes the hint, immediately reformulating her request and straightening her posture to reflect the etiquette that we have encountered so frequently in Esther. Indeed, the opening flourish to Esther’s second entreaty (“If it please Your Majesty, and if I have won your favor and the proposal seems right to Your Majesty, and if I am pleasing to you”) exceeds the rhetorical pomposity of even the most effusive monologue anywhere else in the narrative. One may have the feeling that Esther’s loquaciousness conceals a degree of scorn for the king’s insistence on the rules of etiquette from his wife, the queen, in her moment of distress. The difference between Esther’s two requests also expresses itself in the slight changes in style: 10. As Fox notes, Esther presents Haman (in both of her monologues) as being responsible for the decrees; she exempts the king from any complicity (Fox, Character, 93). Similarly Clines, Esther, 315. At the same time, as I have commented in the past, the king seems truly not to have been aware of the specific content of the decree, and thus Esther is able to present the situation accordingly. 11.  Bush emphasizes (as does Clines, Esther, 313) that the “falling at the king’s feet” should not be imagined as a sweeping bow (since other verbs are used to indicate this sort of action—for example, ‫‘ השתחווה‬to bow down’ or ‫‘ כרע‬to bend the knees’) but as a presentation of entreaty and supplication (F. Bush, Ruth, Esther [WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998] 444). Clines aptly comments: “In 7:8 it had been Haman’s turn to ‘fall’ at her feet; but she begs not for her own life but only for her people’s” (Clines, Esther, 314–15).

Mordecai Appointed over Haman’s House

175

1. In the first request, Esther referred to Haman as “Haman the Agagite,” whereas in the second request she uses his full name, “Haman son of Hamedatha the Agagite,” as is formally required when speaking to the king.

2. As mentioned above, Esther first asked “to avert the evil plotted by Haman the Agagite,” whereas in her second request, she asked: “Let dispatches be written countermanding those which were written by Haman.” The specific, technical “to be written” replaced the general “to avert,” and the objective, legal “those written by Haman embodying his plot” replaced the visceral, judgmental “evil plotted by Haman.” The king responded to the second plea, articulated in a language he understood, magnanimously and generously (and in a manner that would not allow the listener to ignore his magnanimity and generosity): “I have given Haman’s property to Esther, and he has been hanged on the gallows for scheming against the Jews. And you may further write with regard to the Jews as you see fit” (8:7–8). However, the closing words of Esther’s second monologue again deviate from the diplomatic rhetoric that characterizes the element of formal request: “For how can I bear to see the disaster which will befall my people! And how can I bear to see the destruction of my kindred!” (8:6). Although Esther inserts herself as the focus of her request (and by now the king surely understands whom she represents), her formulation gives us a clear sense of her feelings. She seems frustrated with the formal mode of expression; knowing the stakes, she again releases a torrent of tears. This sense arises primarily from the word that opens each of the two clauses: ‫‘( איככה‬how’). This is a clear allusion to the word ‫ איכה‬that characterizes lamentations and jeremiads, especially of national mourning. 12 By inserting a word with these strong connotations, the author implies Esther’s psychological state, mourning her people and kindred. However, the exact expression used by Esther is ‫איככה‬. As Moore and Berlin have pointed out, this word appears in only one other place in the Bible, where another woman utters it, and in a similar manner. In the Song of Songs, the beloved woman laments: “I had taken off my robe—how (‫ )איככה‬was I to don it again? I had bathed my feet—how (‫ )איככה‬was I to soil them again?” (Song 5:3). 13 Although difficult to know whether the author of Esther intended this association, the parallel nevertheless adds an 12.  See, for example, A. Harman, “Particles,” NIDOTTE, §379. Thus, for example, the words of Isaiah: “Alas (‫)איכה‬, she has become a harlot, the faithful city” (Isa 1:21); and, obviously, the opening words in the chapters of the book of Lamentations: “Alas (‫!)איכה‬ Lonely sits the city once great with people! She that was great among nations is become like a widow” (Lam 1:1); “Alas (‫ !)איכה‬The Lord in His wrath has shamed Fair Zion” (2:1); “Alas (‫ !)איכה‬The gold is dulled, debased the finest gold!” (4:1). 13.  Moore, Esther, 78; Berlin, Esther, 74.

176

Chapter 14

important dimension to our narrative. The woman uttered these words as a response to the request of her beloved: “Let me in, my own, my darling, my faultless dove! For my head is drenched with dew, my locks with the damp of night” (5:2). The woman who had already retired to bed languidly declined to get up, for to do so would require that she get dressed and soil her feet. Her response surprises and disappoints (even if only a dream—“I was asleep, but my heart was wakeful” [5:2]). The choice of the word ‫ איככה‬highlights the scene’s sense of disappointment in that it evokes an earlier scene in which the beloved woman asked: “Tell me, you whom I love so well; where [‫ ]איכה‬do you pasture your sheep? Where [‫ ]איכה‬do you rest them at noon?” (Song 1:7). The words admittedly mean different things (‫איככה‬ ‘how’; ‫‘ איכה‬where’), but the similarity of their sound and the repetition of the letters hints at the tragedy of the situation: when her beloved was unavailable, while he led his flocks in wide-open spaces, her soul went out to him; now, with him so near, at her doorstep, she suddenly withdraws. Song of Songs 5 characterizes the great missed opportunity, the woman’s inattention to the call of her beloved—a call seeking the closeness and intimacy of the woman’s presence. Again, it is unclear whether it was the narrator’s intention to allude to the beloved’s cry; however, the emotion that emerges from the expression is apparent. From this perspective, Esther represents an inverse image. Unlike the beloved woman in the Song of Songs, Esther yielded to the beckoning of her cousin Mordecai (the same Hebrew word, ‫דוד‬, means ‘uncle’ in the context of Mordecai’s relationship with Esther and ‘beloved’ in Song of Songs). With great self-sacrifice, Esther forced herself to “open the door” when she went to the king to plead on behalf of her people. In other words, the story of Esther could have been another story of missed opportunities in which salvation remained distant because its agents feared for their personal safety or were simply lazy. Instead of complaining about dirtying her feet, Esther opened the door of salvation, confronting the king with her people’s predicament. The words that Esther uttered as she stood before Ahasuerus (“For how can I bear to see the disaster which will befall my people!”) direct the reader, not only to the woman in Song of Songs, but also to the words of Judah as he stood before Joseph, disguised as the Egyptian viceroy: “For how can I go back to my father unless the boy is with me. Let me not see the disaster that would befall my father” (Gen 44:34). 14 Beyond the linguistic similarity, note that both speakers stood before the ruler ( Joseph, Ahasuerus) and tried to 14. L. A. Rosenthal, “Die Yosefsgeshichte mit den Büchern Ester und Daniel ver­ glichen,” ZAW 15 (1895) 281; G. Gerleman, Studien zu Esther: Stoff, Struktur, Stil, Sinn (BibS 48; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1966) 12; Clines, Esther, 315. It is also worth noting that there is a hidden connection between ‘my father’ (‫ אבי‬in the words of Judah) and ‘my people’ (‫ עמי‬in the words of Esther), similar to the meanings of the names of the two sons born to Lot’s daughters (Moab [‘from my father’] and Ammon [‘son of my paternal kindred’], Gen 19:37–38).

Mordecai Appointed over Haman’s House

177

attain clemency for someone (Benjamin, the Jewish people). 15 This link unquestionably plays a role in the broader connection between the Esther narrative and the story of Joseph in Egypt, even as it enriches our understanding of a specific scene. First, note the inversion of the role of the tribes in these two narratives. In the story of Joseph, Judah stood before the viceroy, seeking to protect Benjamin. In Esther, the descendants of Benjamin repay the favor: Esther and Mordecai, Benjaminites, stood before the king seeking to protect the Jews. Beyond this, however, it seems that the veiled hint at Judah’s words lend something that we may call “literary balance.” By this, I mean that the reader may be led to believe that the narrative has reached its happy ending: Mordecai stood before the king and replaced Haman, and Esther revealed her Jewish identity yet remained universally accepted. The plot has passed its climax, though the minor issues of annulling Haman’s decree and celebrating victory still remain. The narrator challenges this happy atmosphere and reintroduces a measure of drama by reminding the reader both that Haman’s enactment remains in force and that Esther paid a personal price for the risks she took. Through the allusion to the story of Judah standing before Joseph, the reader recalls Judah’s offer to become a slave in lieu of Benjamin (Gen 44:33) and views Esther in the light of that offer. She also begged the ruler—even falling at his feet—on behalf of her people. Unlike Judah, however, she remained in the ruler’s palace, forced to accede to his whims and to serve as a gracious hostess at his many banquets. Esther “redeemed” her people by means of great obsequiousness before the king, and the narrator wants his readers to remember Esther’s sacrifice. 16 The king responded to Esther’s entreaties: Then King Ahasuerus said to Queen Esther and Mordecai the Jew, “I have given Haman’s property to Esther, and he has been hanged on the gallows for scheming against the Jews. And you may further write with regard to the Jews as you see fit in the king’s name and seal it with the king’s signet, for an edict that has been written in the king’s name and sealed with the king’s signet may not be revoked. (8:7–8)

This speech gives rise to three interesting points. First, the king asserts that Haman was hanged for “scheming against the Jews.” At least formally, however, Haman’s execution was predicated on his attempt to ravish the queen in the king’s presence. By reassigning the cause of Haman’s death, the king attempted to protest his own innocence, presenting himself as the 15. In addition, remember that the Egyptian viceroy sought to keep Benjamin as a slave; Ahasuerus, too, believed that the plan was to sell all the Jews as slaves. 16.  Contrast the respective resolutions of the two narratives as well: In the Genesis story, the brothers ultimately learn that the unpredictable viceroy is really Joseph, miraculously (from the brothers’ point of view) ending the ordeal on a positive note. On the other hand, Esther’s self-sacrifice will not reverse the fact that she must remain for life in the palace of the whimsical king.

178

Chapter 14

punisher of the man who perpetrated the decree of annihilation. 17 Alternatively, if the king truly had no idea of Haman’s schemes, he may have retroactively regarded the hanging of Haman as punishment for having sent out letters to annihilate the Jews in the king’s name without the king’s real approval. Second, the king excused his inability to revoke Haman’s decrees by noting that “an edict that has been written in the king’s name and sealed with the king’s signet may not be revoked.” The absurdity of this situation, in which a law that was presumably instituted in order to enhance the king’s power wound up limiting it, masked a hidden reality: the king himself was subject to his own projected image. By aggrandizing his name and the prestige of his rank, he significantly diminished himself. 18 This irony is highlighted by Esther’s use of the verb “to avert (‫ )להעביר‬the evil plotted by Haman the Agagite” (8:3), which recalls the transfer of the signet from Haman to Mordecai (“The king slipped off his ring, which he had taken back [‫ ]העביר‬from Haman, and gave it to Mordecai” [8:2]) and hints at the absurdity of the situation: the ring could be transferred from one hand to another, but laws sealed by it could not be revoked under any circumstance. 19 Third, the scorn inherent in this scene arises from another aspect as well. The order of the king’s speech is peculiar: the explanation about why Haman’s decree cannot be revoked (“for an edict that has been written . . .”) does not appear at the beginning of the king’s response to Esther; rather, it appears at the end, immediately after he gives permission to Esther and to Mordecai to write “as you see fit, in the king’s name.” This creates the following strange juxtaposition of clauses (8:8):   And you may further write with regard to the Jews as you see fit in the king’s name and seal it with the king’s signet.   For an edict that has been written in the king’s name and sealed with the king’s signet may not be revoked.

Though the latter clause clearly explains the impossibility of revoking the first decree, the ordering makes it appear as though it represents an attempt by the king to convince Mordecai and Esther that his solution will work—after all, once the king signs a decree, it can never be revoked! Having already suffered the consequences of allowing one adviser to approve legislation, Ahasuerus indicates that experience has taught him nothing as he once again gives away his ring. 17.  As suggested, for example, by Fox (Character, 94) and Berlin: “if Ahasuerus wishes to present himself as the protector of the Jews, so much the better” (Berlin, Esther, 75). 18.  See also D. Henshke, “Esther: A Literary Costume,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 93–106 [Heb.] (“The king himself, as a being of will and substance, is nothing; the power and greatness are for royal niceties, for the external symbols of royalty. The king himself is the first of his kingdom’s servants”). In the Septuagint (version A), the king agrees to cancel the decree; this simplifies the plot, at the expense of the intentionally ironic design of this scene. 19.  See also Fox, Character, 92.

Chapter 15

Mordecai’s Letters (Esther 8:9–16) “When the righteous prosper the city exults; when the wicked perish there are shouts of joy” (Prov 11:10). Mordecai took the king up on his offer and sent the letters that he had written “as he saw fit.” Mordecai’s letters, from both the thematic and the literary perspective, obviously correspond to Haman’s letters and represent their reversal. Nevertheless, as so often happens in instances of repetition in the Bible, slight differences signal veiled meanings. 1 Thus, along with the obvious similarities, we must also consider the differences and discrepancies between the two sets of letters (see table 15.1, pp. 180–181). We shall focus here on three main types of difference and their respective contribution to the molding of the narrative and its messages. Most obviously, some differences arise from the situation’s reversal. The fact that the Jews greeted Haman’s letters by fasting and mourning and Mordecai’s by rejoicing (I) should come as no surprise. Similarly, the change in Mordecai’s clothing—from the sackcloth and ashes that disqualified him from entering the palace gate in chap. 4, to the royal robes of blue and white as he left the king’s presence in chap. 8 (H)—accents the general reversal through Mordecai’s personal reversal. These stark differences represent the essence of the contrast between the two scenes: their presentation in chap. 8 is precisely the opposite of the presentation of chaps. 3 and 4 and highlights the astounding reversal that took place in between. 2 1.  See B. F. Kawin, Telling It Again and Again: Repetition in Literature and Film (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1972); Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 1981) 88–113; M. Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985) 365–440; G. W. Savran, Telling and Retelling: Quotation in Biblical Narrative (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 1988); F. Polak, Biblical Narrative: Aspects of Art and Design (2nd ed.; Jerusalem: Bialik, 1999) 59–81. 2.  It should be noted that there is no clear parallel to the description of Haman and Ahasuerus in chap. 3 (“The king and Haman sat down to feast”). Amos Hakham suggests viewing the image of Mordecai emerging from the king as a dual parallel: on the one hand, it corresponds to the description of the rending of his garments; on the other hand, it corresponds to the party held by the king and Haman (Esther [Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974] 54–55). However, it is possible that the author intentionally avoided any parallel to that party, which represents the clearest indication of the immense cruelty of those two characters who, having passed a decree of annihilation for an entire people,

179

180

Chapter 15

Table 15.1.  Comparison of Haman’s and Mordecai’s Letters A B C

Haman’s letters (3:12–4:3) The king’s scribes were summoned. On the thirteenth day of the first month . . . a decree was issued, as Haman directed, to the king’s satraps, to the governors of every province, and to the officials of every people, to every province in its own script and to every people in its own language.

D

The orders were issued in the name of King Ahasuerus and sealed with the king’s signet. Accordingly, written instructions were dispatched by couriers to all the king’s provinces

E

to destroy, massacre, and exterminate all the Jews, young and old, children and women, on a single day, on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month—that is, the month of Adar—and to plunder their possessions.

F

The text of the document was to the effect that a law should be proclaimed in every single province; it was to be publicly displayed to all the peoples, so that they might be ready for that day.

G

The couriers went out posthaste on the royal mission, and the decree was proclaimed in the fortress Shushan.

Mordecai’s letters (8:9–17) The king’s scribes were summoned at that time, on the twenty-third day of the third month, that is, the month of Sivan; and letters were written, at Mordecai’s dictation, to the Jews and to the satraps, the governors and the officials of the one hundred and twenty-seven provinces from India to Ethiopia: to every province in its own script and to every people in its own language, and to the Jews in their own script and language. He had them written in the name of King Ahasuerus and sealed with the king’s signet. Letters were dispatched by mounted couriers, riding steeds used in the king’s service, bred of the royal stud, to this effect: The king has permitted the Jews of every city to assemble and fight for their lives; if any people or province attacks them, they may destroy, massacre, and exterminate its armed force together with women and children, and plunder their possessions—on a single day in all the provinces of King Ahasuerus, namely, on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, that is, the month of Adar. The text of the document was to be issued as a law in every single province: it was to be publicly displayed to all the peoples, so that the Jews should be ready for that day to avenge themselves on their enemies. The couriers, mounted on royal steeds, went out in urgent haste at the king’s command; and the decree was proclaimed in the fortress Shushan.

Mordecai’s Letters H

I

The king and Haman sat down to feast, but the city of Shushan was dumfounded. When Mordecai learned all that had happened, Mordecai tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes. He went through the city, crying out loudly and bitterly, until he came in front of the palace gate; for one could not enter the palace gate wearing sackcloth. Also, in every province that the king’s command and decree reached, there was great mourning among the Jews, with fasting, weeping, and wailing, and everybody lay in sackcloth and ashes.

181

Mordecai left the king’s presence in royal robes of blue and white, with a magnificent crown of gold and a mantle of fine linen and purple wool. And the city of Shushan rang with joyous cries.

The Jews enjoyed light and gladness, happiness and honor. And in every province and in every city, when the king’s command and decree arrived, there was gladness and joy among the Jews, a feast and a holiday. And many of the people of the land professed to be Jews, for the fear of the Jews had fallen upon them.

A second group of differences relates to the narrator’s desire to dwell on Mordecai’s letters more than Haman’s and to award them an air of festivity and magnanimity, thereby—as Klein comments—“emphasizing the advantage of good over evil.” 3 The narrator produces this effect in several dimensions: In the spatial dimension: The description of Mordecai’s letters notes that the letters were sent to all “one hundred and twenty-seven provinces from India to Ethiopia” (C). Though the term “in all the provinces of King Ahasuerus” could certainly have been written about Haman’s letters as well, it appears specifically in the context of Mordecai’s letters, imbuing a feeling of Mordechai’s extensive power and of far-reaching redemption. 4 Similarly, Mordecai’s letters add the phrase “on a single day in all the provinces of sat down to drink. It is indeed appropriate for this image to have no parallel in the description of the Jews (note that the banquet of the Jews following their victory corresponds to their earlier fasting and not to the party of Haman and the king). 3. Y. Klein and M. Tzipor, Esther (The World of the Bible; Tel Aviv: Davidson Atai, 1994) 255 [Heb.]. 4. For this reason, it would be inaccurate to assert, as Paton does, “Just as the dispatches were formerly prepared at Haman’s dictation, so now at the dictation” (L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 273). It is generally accepted that this is the longest verse in the entire Bible (43 words; 192 letters—Ibid.). The syntactical span of these sentences may likewise express the narrator’s wish to award special length to Mordecai’s letters.

182

Chapter 15

King Ahasuerus” before identifying the actual date (E). Once again, this addition does not provide details of Mordecai’s letters that were absent in Haman’s. Rather, it gives rise to a sense of Mordecai’s overall and comprehensive control and the all-embracing nature of the salvation. 5 A final spatial expansion appears at the conclusion of the scene (I), which describes the Jews’ rejoicing in the provinces and the cities. The addition of the cities, absent in the description of mourning, generates the feeling that the great rejoicing of chap. 8 more than counterbalances the great mourning of chap. 4. In the temporal dimension: In this context, we must note, primarily, the speed of the dispatch of the respective letters. Mordecai’s couriers leave under greater pressure and with finer horses than Haman’s (D, G). 6 This seems to emphasize the eagerness with which the couriers publicize Mordecai’s letters. Furthermore, although the narrator gives no indication of how much time elapsed between the time that Haman drafted the letters until the summoning of the scribes, he tells us that Mordecai’s scribes were summoned “at that time” (A). This may also indicate a greater alacrity in the latter dispatch. An additional time-related difference relates to the insertion of the month (B). It might have been appropriate to mention the month of Haman’s dispatch (Nissan) as well, because of its significance to Judaism (see Exod 12:1). 7 The narrator’s choice to omit the name of the month in the context of Haman’s dispatch seems to add an extra rhetorical flourish to Mordecai’s letters. Additionally, the transition from Nissan to Sivan corresponds to a process of salvation in this narrative, as in the exodus narrative, lending a dimension of the miraculous to the redemption of Esther. 8 5.  Extensive debate among scholars concerns the change in the location of the license to plunder, which appears earlier in Mordecai’s letters than in Haman’s. The majority view upholds the connection between the respective verses, despite this difference (thus, for example, M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther [2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001] 284; F. Bush, Ruth, Esther [WBC; Dallas, Texas: Word, 1998] 447). Gordis, however, proposes that this difference indicates a lack of connection between the decrees, in this context (R. Gordis, “Studies in the Esther Narrative,” JBL 95 [1976] 50). 6.  The word ‫ רכש‬appears to refer to an especially swift horse or pair of horses (see 1 Kgs 5:8, Mic 1:13). The word ‫ אחשתרן‬in ancient Persian means ‘royal’ (based on the Persian word hšatra ‘royalty’). The ‫ רמכים‬are fine, fast horses (see Klein and Tzipor, Esther). Thus, the end of 8:10 may be translated as follows: ‘the riders on horses—the professional riders of swift royal horses—bred from fast horses’ (see also A. Berlin, Esther [jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001] 77). 7. A. D. Cohen, “‘Hu Ha-goral’: The Religious Significance of Esther,” Judaism 23 (1974) 87–94. 8. Rabbi Yehudah Loew of Prague (Maharal), in his commentary on Esther (Or Chadash), notes that 70 days separate the dispatch of the two sets of letters (from the 13th of Nissan to the 23rd of Sivan). This is a very interesting point, since the number 70 also has special significance in our narrative, symbolizing the exile of Israel, in view of Jeremiah’s prophecy that the exile would last 70 years ( Jer 25:11–12). Clines goes so far as to suggest that, for the purpose of arriving at this total of 70 days, the narrator “postpones” the

Mordecai’s Letters

183

Another difference in this part (D) of the dispatch relates to the narrator’s verbal choice: Haman’s dispatch was formulated in passive voice (“it was written [‫ ]נכתב‬. . . it was sealed [‫ ]נחתם‬. . . they were sent [‫ ]נשלוח‬. . .”), while the narrator describes Mordecai’s actions using active voice (“he wrote it [‫ ]ויכתב‬. . . he sealed it [‫ ]ויחתם‬. . . he sent it [‫ ]וישלח‬. . .”). The narrator seems to be contrasting the respective roles of Haman and Mordecai in the drafting of the two letters: whereas Haman commanded those who actually did the work but did not actively engage in it himself, Mordecai, the narrative literally indicates, writes, seals, and dispatches the letter himself, indicating the importance of the matter in Mordecai’s eyes. 9 The final major difference between the two sets of letters is the description of the Jews. Both letters were sent “to every province in its own script and to every people in its own language,” but Mordecai’s letters also reached “the Jews in their own script and language” (8:9). This addition can easily be explained in terms of the plot: the first letters addressed the enemies of the Jews, so Haman had no need to provide for a Jewish audience; the second letters address the Jews directly, so the dispatch appears in the language of the Jews as well. However, this addition goes beyond a contribution to the plot and makes an important statement about the ethnic identity of the Jews. Peoples distinguish themselves by a variety of factors, though perhaps none as important as language. Not coincidentally, the geographical dispersion of the 70 nations in the Tower of Babel narrative (Genesis 10–11) also focuses on the concomitant linguistic explosion. Language characterizes culture, and when a people speaks its own language, the language is a testament to the group’s independence and dignity. 10 The description of the letters sent out in the language of the Jews informs the reader that the Jews of Ahasuerus’s kingdom had resumed speaking their own language, dispatch of Mordecai’s letters until the 23rd of Sivan: “The narrator has obviously been torn between his attachment to the symbolic number seventy and his desire for a rapid progression of the narrative; the latter impulse has evidently predominated, but not to the extent of involving him in a contradiction” (D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story [JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984] 316). The problem with this hypothesis is that had the narrator sought to point to the number seventy as the number of days and to the duration of the Babylonian exile, he would have mentioned it explicitly instead of leaving it to the reader’s imagination (Berlin, Esther, 76). Thus, this seems to be yet another example of a hidden reading. 9.  Note that Mordecai also begins the text of the letter by underlining the king’s permission: “The king has permitted the Jews of every city to assemble . . .” (8:11). Since the second letters seemed to contradict the first, Mordecai emphasizes that the new letter also bears the king’s approval (Fox, Character, 99). 10.  Nehemiah likewise presents the mixture of the Hebrew language among the other local languages as an indication of cultural assimilation: “Also at that time, I saw that Jews had married Ashdodite, Ammonite, and Moabite women. A good number of their children spoke the language of Ashdod and the language of those various peoples, and did not know how to speak Judean” (Neh 13:23–24).

184

Chapter 15

and the Persian government formally recognized it by addressing letters in it. Since at the beginning of the narrative the Jews were mired in the depravity of a Persian banquet, with no signs of their unique identity, this development should be viewed as part of the process that the Jews undergo through the course of the narrative: a return to their own unique identity. 11 In light of this, we may cautiously point to another discrepancy between the two sets of letters. Following Mordecai’s dispatch, the narrator describes the number of Gentiles who “Judaized” (8:17). The reader’s search for an analogous phenomenon among the Jews following Haman’s decree is in vain. Although one might expect many Jews to hide their national identity in the wake of the decree, the narrator records no such thing. Perhaps the author is implying that, despite Haman’s decree, the Jews did not forsake their ethnic identity, preferring to die as Jews than to live as Gentiles. By reinforcing their identity in the face of crisis, they earned the right, by the end of the story, to be addressed in their own language. 11.  In contrast to P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 (1907–8) 156.

Chapter 16

“Not One Good Thing Was Lacking” (Esther 8:17–9:4) Esther 8 concludes with a description of the reaction on the part of the “peoples of the land” to Mordecai’s letter: “Many of the people of the land professed to be Jews, for the fear of the Jews had fallen upon them” (8:17). Three expressions in this verse demand explanation: 1. The phrase ‘the people of the land’ (‫ )עמי הארץ‬in this context is obviously unrelated to its meaning in rabbinic parlance (ignoramus, unlearned). It means, quite literally, the peoples living in the land: the non-Jews. 1 This echoes God’s promise to the Israelites on the plains of Moab: “All the peoples of the earth (‫ )עמי הארץ‬shall see that the Lord’s name is proclaimed over you, and they shall stand in fear of you” (Deut 28:10). 2

2. The term ‘professed to be Jews’ (‫ )מתיהדים‬appears to indicate a mass conversion (as the ancient translations suggest), although we cannot altogether discount the reading proposed by Arnold Ehrlich, in which the phenomenon consisted of merely pretending to be Jewish. 3 This does sometimes represent the meaning of a verb in the reflexive case, and some scholars have even integrated this interpretation in their translation of the text. Moore, for example, writes: “Moreover, many of the pagans professed themselves Jews.” 4 In any event, it makes Author’s note: The verse quoted in the title of this chapter is Josh 21:43. 1.  See C. A. Moore, Esther (AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971) 81; BDB, 767: “the people at large, as a body”; M. Z. Kaddari, A Dictionary of Biblical Hebrew (Ramat-Gan: BarIlan University, 2006) 805 [Heb.]. 2.  About the phrase “peoples of the land,” see BDB, 768; A. H. J. Gunneweg, “‫עם הארץ‬: A Semantic Revolution,” ZAW 95 (1983) 437–40; O. Margalith, “The Political Background of Zerubbabel’s Mission and the Samaritan Schism,” VT 41 (1991) 312–23; J. P. Healey, “Am Haʾarez,” ABD 1168–69. 3.  A. B. Ehrlich, Randglossen zur Hebräischen Bible (Leipzig: Hildesheim, 1968 [repr.]) 7.122. For more on this debate, see T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther (SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 130–31; F. Bush, Ruth, Esther (WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998) 448. 4.  Moore, Esther, 76. Compare S. Goldman, “Narrative and Ethical Ironies in Esther,” JSOT 47 (1990) 24 (“perhaps even falsely”). Moore’s argument (Esther, 82) that, had there really been a mass conversion, we would expect to find some evidence of it in Persian or Greek writings, is not convincing. Part of the narrator’s “poetic license” in writing the story is the freedom to exaggerate descriptions in order to highlight his ideas and his

185

186

Chapter 16

no difference to the narrative, since the statement is not intended to highlight the actual conversion but to convey and illustrate the great fear that fell on many of the peoples of the land. 5 3. The expression ‘fear had fallen’ (‫ )נפל פחד‬occurs three times in close succession: •  many of the people of the land professed to be Jews, for the fear of the Jews had fallen upon them (8:17) •  and no one could withstand them, for the fear of them had fallen upon all the peoples (9:2) •  all the officials of the provinces—the satraps, the governors, and the king’s stewards—showed deference to the Jews, because the fear of Mordecai had fallen upon them (9:3) This repetition creates a ripple effect, the impression of a fear that rose to a crescendo as the fateful date of the 13th of Adar drew near. Trepidation first gripped “many of the people of the land,” then “all the peoples,” and finally even all of the rulers. By listing the empowered echelons that feared the Jews, the narrator also created a sense of a gradual spread along different lines. A similar list appeared twice earlier in the narrative. The first instance concerned the addressees of Haman’s letter (3:12), and the second, the addressees of Mordecai’s letter (8:9). Both list three elements of Persian government (the officials of the provinces, the satraps, and the governors). This final list includes “the king’s stewards” in addition to the other three. The narrator thereby underlines the fact that Mordecai’s letter had an impact that extended beyond its own scope: even the officials who did not officially receive Mordecai’s letter began showing deference to the Jews. 6 The widespread panic that gripped the enemies of the Jews requires explanation. After all, the Jews were a small minority scattered throughout the empire, and their enemies retained a license to kill, even though the Jews had won the right to resist. Thus, the fear of Jews seems out of place. The key to understanding the crescendo of fear described in the first two statements becomes clear against the background provided by the third. The surprise held by this seemingly unwarranted fear finds its resolution when the reader learns that “Mordecai was now powerful in the royal palmessage, or for the sake of his literary intention (in truth, even the narrator’s description, “many of the peoples of the land,” is vague, making no pretense at conveying a precise number). 5. In contrast to the views of Clines and Dommershausen, who maintain that the conversion was the result of a religious recognition of the powers of the God of Israel: see M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001) 105–6. 6. Note that these “stewards” were mentioned earlier when Haman promised Ahasuerus, “I will pay ten thousand talents of silver to the stewards for deposit in the royal treasury” (3:9). This closes their involvement with another inversion: instead of bringing plunder from the Jews into the treasury, they showed deference to the Jews.

“Not One Good Thing Was Lacking”

187

ace, and his fame was spreading through all the provinces; the man Mordecai was growing ever more powerful.” 7 In the broader context of the narrative, this bit of information contains great significance. Mordecai had just assumed control of Haman’s old ministry, becoming responsible for his plans to annihilate the Jews, including the identity of supporters in each city, the locations of the stockpiles of weapons, and—most importantly— the command of the king’s army, which could intercede on behalf of either side. Word of Mordecai’s rise gradually percolated through the kingdom, and everyone understood its significance. By selecting the expression “fear of them had fallen upon all of the peoples,” the narrator may be alluding to two other biblical passages. The first, which I am not convinced was deliberate, is Psalm 105, one of the “historical psalms” about the Israelites. 8 There (v. 38), the psalmist writes, “Egypt rejoiced when they left, for dread of [Israel] had fallen upon them.” This depiction of the Egyptians rejoicing over the Jews’ departure bears striking similarity to the description in our chapter: “no one could withstand them, for the fear of them had fallen upon all the peoples” (9:2). 9 This allusion makes a dual contribution. First, since Psalm 105 is of the genre of historical litanies and describes the consolidation of Israel into a nation protected by God, the author of Esther sought to include his narrative within the same sacred history, communicating to his readers that God’s providence did not cease with the Israelites’ entry into the land of Canaan (the point at which Psalm 105 concludes) but continued well beyond. Second, the same allusion may conceal a veiled criticism of the Jews of Shushan. The reference to the exodus directs the reader’s attention to the joy of the Egyptians when the Israelites left their land. This leaves the reader wondering whether the widespread fear of the Jews provided an excellent opportunity to leave Persia and return to Judea, much like the ancient Israelites, and whether the Jews missed a golden opportunity. In addition to Psalm 105, the expression also evokes the summary of the Bible’s description of the Israelite conquest of Canaan: The Lord gave to Israel the whole country that He had sworn to their fathers that he would assign to them; they took possession of it and settled in it. The Lord gave them rest on all sides, just as He had promised to their fathers on oath. Not one man of all their enemies withstood them; the Lord delivered all of their enemies into their hands. Not one of the good things 7.  Compare with the description of Moses in Exod 11:3. There, Moses’ greatness in the eyes of Pharaoh’s men and in the eyes of the people is juxtaposed with the willingness of the Egyptians to give some of their property to the Israelites. See further G. Gerleman, Esther (BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973) 11–23; J. A. Loader, Esther (De Prediking van het Oude Testament; Nijkerk: Callenbach, 1980) 148–51. 8.  Regarding “historical psalms” in general and Psalm 105 in particular, see E. Hag­ lund, Historical Motifs in the Psalms (Stockholm: CWK Gleerup, 1984) 22–29. 9.  Note that the expression ‫‘ נפל פחדם‬their fear fell’ in this form appears nowhere else in the Bible.

188

Chapter 16

which the Lord had promised to the House of Israel was lacking (‫לא נפל‬ ‫ ;)דבר‬everything was fulfilled. ( Josh 21:41–43)

It seems to me that the description in Esther, “no one could withstand them for the fear of them had fallen (‫ )נפל‬upon all of the peoples,” alludes to the verse in Joshua but may be interpreted in two different, contradictory ways: One might contend that the narrator wants his readers to view the salvation of Israel in Shushan as a continuation of the “the good things which the Lord had promised to the House of Israel.” Alternatively (and I incline toward this possibility), the narrator is using this allusion to convey covert criticism. The reader, rejoicing at the salvation of the people and the fact that all of their enemies are now fearful of them, remembers another time when “no one withstood them”—the period of the conquest and settlement of the land. Against the backdrop of that earlier salvation, the reader, while continuing to rejoice over the Jews’ salvation in Shushan, senses the barb hidden beneath the surface, especially in light of the continuation of that verse in the book of Joshua, which is absent in Esther: “Everything was fulfilled.” Though victorious, they remain in exile, under a regime that produced Haman. By referencing the victories of Joshua, the narrator makes it clear that he finds the victory in Shushan to be lacking.

Indiscriminate Slaughter? Chapter  9 of Esther has disturbed many modern scholars of this text, because it gives the impression that the Jews completely massacred their Gentile neighbors. In Shushan, the Jews killed 500 men on the first day (9:12), and 75,000 in all of the provinces (9:16)! Furthermore, Esther obtained the king’s permission to continue the onslaught in Shushan for another day (9:13, about which Patton remarks: “For this horrible request no justification can be found”), 10 allowing the Jews to kill an additional 300 people (9:15). Following the war, the Jews celebrated with a day of feasting and rejoicing, prompting further criticism from modern scholars. Paton, for example, writes in the introduction to his commentary on the book: There is not one noble character in this book. . . . Esther . . . conceals her origin, is relentless toward a fallen enemy, secures not merely that the Jews escape from danger, but that they fall upon their enemies, slay their wives and children, and plunder their property. Not satisfied with this slaughter, she asks that Haman’s ten sons may be hanged, and that the Jews may be allowed another day for killing their enemies in Susa. 11

10.  L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 287. 11.  Ibid., 96.

“Not One Good Thing Was Lacking”

189

Martin Luther Adopts an Extreme Manner of Speaking “I am so an enemy to the book of Esther that I would it did not exist; for it Judaises too much, and hath in it a great deal of heathenish naughtiness.” 12 As many have noted, reservations about the book of Esther on the part of some scholars is rooted in anti-Semitism. 13 Nevertheless, from an exegetical point of view, we must clarify whether the truth lies in these sorts of readings, which claim that the Jews exploited their new status and happily massacred their Gentile neighbors. Esth 8:11 lies at the center of this discussion, with its license to “destroy, massacre, and exterminate its armed force together with women and children, and plunder their possessions” (8:11). The reader instinctively identifies with Moore, who calls this “a shocking phrase.” 14 Several interpretations attempt to mitigate the force of this verse. A brief survey follows. Haupt and Hoschander assert that the expression “children and women” is a later addition that was incorporated into the text by mistake. 15

12. W. Hamilton, “Appendix,” in C. K. J. Bunsen, Life of Martin Luther (New York: Delisser and Procter, 1859) 243. The reader will find a discussion of Luther’s view in Paton, Esther, 96 (translated slightly differently from the above) as well as in: R. Gordis, “Religion, Wisdom and History in the Book of Esther: A New Solution to an Ancient Crux,” JBL 100 (1981) 361; F. F. Bruce, The Canon of Scripture (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1988) 101; J. Urquhart, “Esther, Book of,” ISBE 2.1007. Note that, in contrast to the classic German interpretation of the text, with its heavy antagonism toward the moral philosophy that it supposedly reveals, differing opinions have been voiced in recent years. Thus, for example, Meinhold addresses the evil of the Jews’ enemies in the narrative: “The injustice is a plot and can be reproduced world-wide; it teaches and finds cover under the cloak of justice” (A. Meinhold, Das Buch Esther [ZBK; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1983] 102). 13.  Thus, for example, Robert Pfeiffer writes that Esther’s author’s solidarity with his people, like so many modern Zionist writers, is completely disconnected from the religious dimension. Similarly, Pfeiffer contends that Esther’s virulent hatred for paganism, unprecedented in the Bible, is more politically than religiously motivated (R. N. Pfeiffer, Introduction to the OT [New York: Harper, 1948] 743–44). Other scholars make similar pronouncements. For example: “Esther and Mordecai clearly express the character traits of crooked late Judaism” (H. A. C. Hävernick, Handbuch der historisch-kritischen Einleitung in das Alte Testament [Erlangen: Heyder & Zimmer, 1839] 358). “Much more numerous are the revolting negative traits of this nation’s character—especially its unrestrained impulse to avenge, such that he literally imagines swimming and drowning with Oriental abandon in the blood of his enemy” (M. Haller, Das Judentum: Geschichtsschreibung, Prophetie und Gesetzgebung nach dem Exil [Schriften des Alten Testaments 2/3; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1914] 328). For a discussion of anti-Semitic exegesis of Esther, see: W. Herr­ mann, Ester im Streit der Meinungen (Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1986); G. H. Cohen, “The Exegesis of the Book of Esther in Turbulent Times,” Studies in Bible and Exegesis 8 (2008) 139–46 [Heb.]. As Driver already remarked regarding these proposals: “It is impossible altogether to acquit it of this accusation” (S. R. Driver, An Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament [Cleveland: World Publishing, 1956] 485–86). 14.  Moore, Esther, 80. 15. P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 (1907–8) 159–60; J. Hoschander, The Book of Esther in Light of History (Philadelphia: Dropsie College for Hebrew and Cognate Learning, 1923) 240.

190

Chapter 16

No evidence supports this hypothesis. Anderson explains that the mention

of killing “children and women” emphasizes the quid pro quo of Mordecai’s decree, since Haman’s contained the same provision. 16 Like Anderson, Moore proposes regarding these words as a theological expression, emphasizing the reversal that had taken place since Haman’s letter, and not as a historical assertion. 17 Gordis raises the revolutionary possibility that the phrase “children and women” does not refer to the Gentiles at all but recapitulates Haman’s decree in identifying the enemies of the Jews. In his view, the verse should be read as follows: “The king gave permission to the Jews who were in every city to kill all those who attacked them, all those who sought to harm their children and women.” 18 This approach raises considerable linguistic difficulty. 19 Nevertheless, the narrator may have left room for this reading via some slight ambiguity. Berlin proposes a different sort of explanation: A better way to relate to the events of chap. 9 is to see them as part of the carnivalesque farce that permeates the whole book and defines its genre. Scenes of tumultuous riots and violent mock-destruction are completely at home in farcical and carnivalesque works; in fact, they are their hallmarks. Chap. 9 is the climax of the carnivalesque, the peak of disorder. Exaggeration and irrationality reach new heights, even for this book. But it is all in fun; nothing here is real. It is emotional release at its wildest. 20

Berlin identifies with the sense of discomfort in the face of the mass murder of the Jews’ enemies but views it as an identifying mark of this literary work, helping to create the sense of “carnival” that, according to Berlin, pervades the entire narrative. The slaughter portrayed at the narrative’s conclusion provides catharsis for readers and celebrants; the narrative concludes with a great killing spree, which is meant to release the tension of the reader and of those who now celebrate. 21 I find this view problematic, mainly because of its fundamental assumption and definition of this text as a carnival comedy: “It is a comedy, a book meant to be funny, to provoke laughter.” 22 While the story unquestionably contains comic elements, they interweave with moral and theological themes. The story does not simply represent the author’s attempt to make 16.  B. W. Anderson, “The Book of Esther,” IB, 866. 17.  Moore, Esther, 83. 18. R. Gordis, “Studies in the Esther Narrative,” JBL 95 (1976) 43–58. 19. As Fox notes (Character, 284–85). 20. A. Berlin, Esther (jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001) 81. 21. Regarding the carnivalesque nature of Purim and the manner in which it has played out historically, see E. Horowitz, “The Rite to be Reckless: On the Perpetration and Interpretation of Purim Violence,” Poetics Today 15 (1994) 9–54 (especially pp. 29–42). 22.  Berlin, Esther, xvii. H. L. Ginsberg (“Introductions,” in The Five Megilloth and Jonah [Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1969] 82–88) presents the same idea.

“Not One Good Thing Was Lacking”

191

the reader laugh. Rather, laughter, like derision of Haman, serves the narrative’s broader message. 23 Furthermore, I cannot agree with the literary assertion that it is appropriate to conclude a carnivalesque reversal with a mass killing spree and a noisy celebration. The fundamental assumption underlying the modern moralizing at the text’s expense never appears in the text. A close reading of the narrative shows that the narrator hints, in different ways, that the war of the 13th and 14th of Adar should not be viewed as indiscriminate mass murder. They certainly spared the women and children as well. This conclusion arises from various aspects of the narrative, which I shall examine in their order of appearance. 24 At the beginning of the chapter, note that the narrator does not pit the Jews against “Gentiles,” “non-Jews” or “the peoples of the land” but precisely against “their enemies” and “those who sought their hurt” (9:1–2, 5). While not repudiating claims of mass murder, it limits the bloodshed to the battlefield, where the Jews routed the enemies who sought to harm them. 25 The next piece of important information comes at the end of the battles in the form of the fixed formula, “They did not lay hands on the spoil,” which appears a total of three times (9:10, 15, 16—at the end of each battle described). This repetition underscores its importance in the narrator’s eyes and, in light of the current discussion, our own. Mordecai’s letter, which paralleled Haman’s, permitted the Jews to plunder their enemies (3:13 and 8:11). Nevertheless, the Jewish fighters “did not lay hands on the spoil”! A description of, let alone emphasis on, acts of restraint makes no sense in a carnivalesque framework. In fact, it eschews the catharsis of revenge and despoilment, indicating that the narrator views the battle in the context of the wars fought by Joshua, mandated by God, in which no spoils were taken. 26 Thus, the scholars who view Mordecai’s letter as indicative of the Jews’ vengeance and their glee at going to war do a grave injustice to the Jews of Shushan. 27 23.  We shall return to Berlin’s approach, which also has other proponents, in the summary (pp. 233–235). 24.  Compare M. V. Fox, The Redaction of the Books of Esther: On Reading Composite Text (SBLMS 40; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1991) 111. 25. Y. Kaufmann, History of the Israelite Faith (Tel Aviv: Bialik, 1960) 8.444 [Heb.]. 26.  About “holy-war” ideology and its affiliation with proscription, see for example: F. M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic: Essays in the History of the Religion of Israel (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1973) 91–111; G. von Rad, Holy War in Ancient Israel (trans. M. J. Dawn; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991) 49–51; S. Niditch, Folklore and the Hebrew Bible (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993) 51–55. 27. Perhaps the shunning of the spoils mythically repaired the sin of Saul and the people following the war against Amalek (W. McKane, “A Note on Esther IX and I Samuel XV,” JTS 12 [1961] 260–61. For criticism of this reading, see D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story [JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984] 200 n. 35.) Interestingly, Tg. Esth. I counts the casualties as follows: “Seventy-five thousand of the House of Amalek, and they did not lay their hands on the plunder.”

192

Chapter 16

Furthermore, the narrator adds a bit of information that, prima facie, seems superfluous: “The number of those slain in the fortress Shushan was reported on that same day to the king” (9:11). By tallying the slain—even on the same day, when possible—for all three battles, the narrator counterbalances any sense of indiscriminate slaughter. Instead, the Jews seemed to know exactly whom to kill. Mordecai, with the army and intelligence at his disposal, could mount a campaign specifically against the people who sought to harm the Jews. This also explains Esther’s request for an additional day in Shushan. A number of enemies of the Jews and loyalists to Haman’s cause remained at large; Esther wished to take advantage of the opportunity to root them out of the kingdom. Another argument against the battle as an expression of bloodlust and vengeance relates to the choice to commemorate the victory, for all generations, on the day of rest that followed the victory (the 14th or 15th of Adar) and not on the date of the battle itself (the 13th or 14th, 9:17–19). Within the world of the text, the Jews obviously postponed the feast during the fighting itself. The fact that the text establishes the cause for celebration as being the rest resulting from the battle—and not the battle itself—indicates that the Jews celebrated “not their victory but the absence of cause for blood or victory in the future.” 28 In addition to all of the above, we note that the number of dead, when compared with other biblical battles, is unremarkable. On the contrary, had the narrator wished to give some exaggerated figure for the number of deceased, he would have had to pick a much larger number. Ahijah, King of Israel, for example, reportedly killed 500,000 excellent soldiers (2  Chr 13:17). In this context, Goitein comments most aptly that: the numbers in Esther are actually modest; they testify that it was merely a matter of defense, as emphasized repeatedly [in the fact] that they did not take of the plunder; in other words, this was not a war of aggression at all. It is the professors of the nation that spilled so much blood who have given Esther a bad name, and we should not adopt that injustice. 29

Even the license to kill children and women creates a literary connection between Mordecai’s letter and Haman’s decrees, thereby underlying the motif of reversal. Just as the Jews did not take of the spoils, so too they did not harm anyone who was not among those who sought their harm. 30

28.  Clines, Esther, 161–62. 29.  S .D. Goitein, Studies in the Bible (Tel Aviv: Yavne, 1957) 81. He refers, of course, to the German biblical scholars who were outspoken in their extreme criticism of the values of the book of Esther and the bloodthirsty image that it projects. See also S. Goldman, “Narrative and Ethical Ironies in Esther,” JSOT 47 (1990) 20–21 (“Such numbers are historically unbelievable but ironically believable”). 30.  Along the lines of the argument of Anderson and Moore, quoted above. In fact, a similar claim appears already in Bonart, as quoted by Paton, Esther, 274.

“Not One Good Thing Was Lacking”

193

Nevertheless, something about this chapter remains disturbing. Along with Esther’s request of the king to grant an additional day for the battle in Shushan, 31 she asked that the sons of Haman be hanged (9:13). The villain’s progeny died on the first day of the battle; Esther requested that their corpses be disgracefully displayed. 32 As previously noted, hanging seems to have been reserved for crimes of rebellion and treason. 33 Thus, Esther intended, by her request, to clarify for all of Shushan’s inhabitants that anyone who subscribed to Haman’s plan to annihilate the Jews committed an act of treason. The sons of Haman met the same fate as Bigthan and Teresh. A crime against the Jews amounted to a crime against the crown. Esther added this request to her petition for an extra day for the Jews of Shushan to fight, which was in hopes of discovering any who had managed to hide on the first day. 34 Perhaps some Shushanites knew where the enemies of the Jews were hiding and where they had stockpiled their ammunition. By hanging the sons of Haman and broadcasting in the clearest possible way the regime’s view of any attempt to harm the Jews, Esther hoped to encourage cooperation on the part of the average citizen, thereby exposing those who had remained loyal to Haman and to his legacy. Alternatively, perhaps Esther was thinking about the future and trying to prevent ideologies such as Haman’s from arising again. 35 31. Esther does not ask that the king “grant permission” (active voice), but rather states, “Let the Jews in Shushan be permitted” (passive voice). The narrator makes extensive use of the passive voice (as especially noticeable at the beginning of chap.6), as if to say that the plot just goes on happening, whether the characters like it nor not. This view is certainly applicable to the Persian king as well! 32. As Paton expresses it (Esther, 287). Moore compares Esther, in making this request, to Jael ( Judges 4); he calls both of them “deceitful and bloodthirsty women” (Esther, 88). 33.  See above, pp. 134–140. 34.  Fox suggests that on the first day (13th of Adar) the enemies of the Jews could have waged war on the basis of the first letters, publicizing Haman’s decree. On the second day (14th of Adar), they were no longer able to fight, since Haman’s letter had specified only the 13th (Fox, Character, 112). I believe that, in this context, Fox treats the wording of the letters and the king’s laws with undue seriousness. I imagine that the enemies of the Jews fought to defend themselves on the second day of the battle as well, even though no explicit official decree gave them the right to do so. 35.  Compare P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 (1907–8) 160.

Chapter 17

Stages of the Festival’s Acceptance (Esther 9:15–32) The narrative plot concludes with the description of the battles in which the Jews prevailed over those who sought to harm them: “The opposite happened, and the Jews got their enemies in their power” (9:1). However, the book does not end at this point, and before we reach the long-awaited “calm” (chap. 10) we confront an entire unit detailing the process of acceptance of the Festival of Purim throughout the Jewish Diaspora. Not surprisingly, the key word in this unit is the root ‫‘( קיים‬to fulfill, confirm, establish’), which appears here seven times 1 and expresses the essence of the discussion: the establishment, or institutionalization of the festival. The very nature of this unit (describing, as we shall see below, different historical stages) makes it clear that its author enjoyed the benefit of perspective and wrote his work well after the battles. Nevertheless, we may still regard this unit as an organic part of the work and not a later insertion. 2 Indeed, the entire narrative may have been written from a somewhat detached perspective and not during the events themselves. In any event, the details of the acceptance process clearly indicate that Purim’s establishment resulted from an active campaign for acceptance in the Jewish world. 3

1.  In vv. 21, 27, 29, 31, and 32. Special attention should be paid to v. 31, which concludes the chapter and features this verb over and over: “To confirm (‫ )לקיים‬these days of Purim at their proper time, as Mordecai the Jew and Queen Esther had established (‫ )קיים‬for them, and as they had established (‫ )קיימו‬for themselves and their descendants with regard to fasting and lamentation.” 2. H. Bardtke (Das Buch Esther [KAT; Gütersloh: Mohn, 1963] 397–401), W. Dommers­ hausen (Die Estherrolle: Stil und Ziel einer alttestamentlicher Schrifl [SBM 6; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1968] 133), A. Berlin (Esther [jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001} 83), M. V. Fox (Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther [2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001] 114–15) and F. Bush (Ruth, Esther [WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998] 456–60) agree; see at length B. W. Jones, “The So-Called Appendix to the Book of Esther,” Semitics 6 (1978) 36–43. For a different approach, see for example: C. Kuhl, The Old Testament: Its Origins and Composition (trans. C. T. M. Herriott; London: Oliver & Boyd, 1961) 269; O. Eissfeldt, Einleitung in das Alte Testament (Tübingen: Mohr, 1964) 691ff.; D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story ( JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 39–49; T. K. Beal, Esther (Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999) 107–9. 3. J. Tabory, Jewish Festivals in the Time of the Mishnah and Talmud ( Jerusalem: Magnes, 1995) 234.

194

Stages of the Festival’s Acceptance

195

Some perceive this unit as a technical, historical note meant to connect the plot of the story with the Festival of Purim; as a result, the unit’s literary shape often remains neglected. However, like every other chapter of the book of Esther, this chapter integrates concealed messages; beyond the technicalities of the acceptance of the festival lies a fierce debate about the status of Jews in exile in general and their position vis-à-vis their brothers and sisters in Yehud in particular. Let us follow the stages of acceptance of the festival as arising from the description in this chapter: 4 1. “The rest of the Jews, those in the king’s provinces . . . rested on the fourteenth day and made it a day of feasting and merrymaking. But the Jews in Shushan . . . rested on the fifteenth, and made it a day of feasting and merrymaking” (9:16–18). Stage 1 represents the initial, popular celebration immediately following the battles of the 12th year of the reign of Ahasuerus. This stage was celebrated on two different dates by two different populations: the Jews of Shushan celebrated after the second day of battles (the 15th of Adar), and the Jews of the other provinces celebrated after a single day of battles—i.e., on the 14th of Adar. 2. “That is why village Jews, who live in unwalled towns, observe the fourteenth day of the month of Adar and make it a day of merrymaking and feasting, and as a holiday and an occasion for sending gifts to one another” (9:19). As the second stage, the narrator describes the spontaneous celebrations that were held in the villages in the following years. This surprises the reader on two levels. First, from a linguistic point of view, the characterization of non-Shushanite Jews as “village Jews (‫)הפרזים‬, who live in unwalled towns (‫ ”)בערי הפרזות‬is surprising. This novel epithet is a substitute for a more common phrase, such as “the Jews who were in the rest of the king’s provinces.” 5 Second, in terms of content, the narrator’s striking omission of the Jews of Shushan runs counter to the reader’s expectation and contrasts with the 4.  Beal discerns three stages: verses 20–23; 24–28; 29–32 (Beal, Esther, 114–115). This division, however, fails to take into account the spontaneous celebration of the year of the actual battle. I agree with his division, but since the division of the celebration over two separate days is so intrinsic to the chapter, its origins in the initial spontaneous festivity must be considered. 5.  Some scholars have claimed that this verse, speaking of the “unwalled towns,” is a gloss; see, for example: C. A. Moore, Esther (AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971) 89; G. Gerleman, Esther (BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973) 142. However, I believe that Fox is correct in his assertion that “[t]he unit as a whole is outside the time sequence, because it is not another event in the story but an etiology for the later usage. Verse 19 is the heart of the etiology and could not appear earlier in the unit” (Character, 114). Still, we must ask why the narrator chooses to use the unusual term “villages” rather than the expression that he has used consistently throughout the text, “the other provinces of the king.”

196

Chapter 17

first stage, which records both parallel celebrations, of the Shu­shanites and the non-Shushanites. Theoretically, of course, it is possible that the Shu­ shanites simply did not celebrate the festival in the ensuing years, though this hypothesis seems unreasonable. 6 Furthermore, this omission represents a break with the literary form of the chapter, which consistently presents the Jews of Shushan alongside the Jews of other provinces. Perhaps the narrator wishes to call the reader’s attention to something novel or surprising in this sequence, ignoring anything self-evident along the way. Indeed, the fact that the Jews of the provinces celebrated on the 14th and not the 15th (in all but the first year) seems strange. Ostensibly, they ought to have delayed the celebration until the following day to identify with and acknowledge the contribution of their Shushanite brothers and sisters. Moreover, the 15th of the month—the full moon 7—is already associated with major biblical festivals, notably the Festival of Booths (15th of Tishrei) and the Festival of Unleavened Bread (15th of Nissan). 8 Given that the Jewish leadership was seeking to introduce Purim, which was a nonbiblically-ordained celebration, establishing it on a date that was already familiar because of its suitability for celebration would have made sense. Nevertheless, the Jews of the provinces, in an act that seems like deliberate defiance, continued to celebrate on the 14th of Adar, underlining their disconnection from the Jews of Shushan. 9 Perhaps with a view to highlighting this point, the author employs the unusual expression “village Jews, who live in unwalled towns.” The conventional term that appears consistently throughout the text (that is, “the rest of the Jews, those in the king’s provinces”) highlights the inferior status of these areas in relation to Shushan: there is the royal city, and there is “the rest.” By celebrating the deliverance of the Jews on the 14th rather than the 15th, the Jews of the “other provinces” demonstrated their independence, thereby “earning” an independent title (“village Jews”) that does not define them simply as non-Shushanites. Obviously, this serves only to reinforce our question about the need for these other Jews to distinguish themselves from the Jews of Shushan. I shall address this question and the significance of the “villages” below. 6. It is possible that the Jews of the walled towns felt no special danger, regarded themselves as significantly protected, and felt no need to celebrate at all. See D. Herman, “When Was the Book of Esther Included in the Biblical Canon?” Beit Mikra 48 (2003) 323. 7.  Philo explains the selection of this date in this way as well. See M. Niehoff, Philo on Jewish Identity and Culture (Tübingen: Mohr, 2001) 264–65. 8.  The Festival of the First Fruits was also always celebrated in the middle of the month according to the book of Jubilees (Jub. 15:1, 44:1–5) 9.  The Passover offering took place on the 14th of Nissan, but its significance seems to derive from its preceding the Festival of Unleavened Bread, which begins on the following day. Nevertheless, the reader may well consider whether the 14th and 15th of Adar parallel the 14th and 15th of Nissan (see also A. D. Cohen, “‘Hu Ha-goral’: The Religious Significance of Esther,” Judaism 23 [1974] 87–94).

Stages of the Festival’s Acceptance

197

The description of the festivities outside Shushan included several elements: a. ‘Merrymaking and feasting’ (‫—)שמחה ומשתה‬these, of course, represent the primary elements of any celebration. Nevertheless, recall that ‫ משתה‬occupies a place of honor in Esther, which mentions no less than ten different feasts over the course of the narrative. 10 Here also, the Jews expressed their joy through “feast.” Some opinions offer that this reflects a dangerous affinity with the Gentile host culture. 11 Note, however, that in the descriptions of all of the Jewish parties, the word ‘joy’ (‫ )שמחה‬appears, while it is absent from the descriptions of the Gentile feasts. The narrator thereby implies a significant distinction: some parties express joy, while others simply revolve around the drinking and the concomitant inebriation. b. ‘And a holiday’ (‫—)ויום טוב‬this phrase has been interpreted variously as a day of Sabbath-like cessation of labor 12 or a day of happiness. 13 At least at this stage of the acceptance of the festival, we may make the reasonable assumption that the village Jews applied the mood and character of the familiar Jewish festivals to Purim as well and applied the prohibition on labor. c. ‘Sending gifts to one another’ (‫—)משלוח מנות איש לרעהו‬this statement is usually regarded as the identifying characteristic of Purim, and Jewish law has indeed enshrined it as one of the holiday’s special commandments. It represents a profound correction to and counterbalance for Haman’s characterization of the Jews as “scattered and dispersed among the other peoples in all the provinces” (3:8). Members of this “scattered and dispersed” people sent food portions to one another, thereby renewing and reasserting their unique identity through a communal framework that reinforces collective identity. At the same time, on the literal level, the expression “sending gifts” should be viewed as part of the definition of the day as one of joy and holiday. The same expression occurs in Nehemiah: This day is holy to the Lord your God; you must not mourn or weep. . . . Go, eat choice foods and drink sweet drinks and send portions to whoever has nothing prepared, for the day is holy to our Lord. Do not be sad, for 10. Many scholarly opinions agree that there are ten feasts, although other counts have been proposed by some people, including: Fox (Character, 156–58) and G. H. Cohen (“Introduction to Esther,” in Esther [Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974] 7, counting Vashti’s feast independently from Ahasuerus’s). See also my “Feasting and Fasting in Esther,” in Hadassa Hi Esther ([ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997] 73–91 [Heb.]), where the fast of Vashti and the feast of Ahasuerus are counted as one feast, but the two feasts of celebration by the Jews following the war (9:17–18) are counted separately. 11.  See S .D. Goitein, Studies in the Bible (Tel Aviv: Yavne, 1957) 60. 12.  Berlin, (Esther, 80) compares this expression with the accepted term for a Sabbathlike festival in rabbinic literature. However, since the Bible never refers to those days with this term, determining the connection between the Purim and the rabbinic terminology becomes difficult. 13.  BDB, 373; KBL, 400.

198

Chapter 17

your rejoicing in the Lord is the source of your strength. . . . Then all the people went to eat and drink and send portions and make great merriment. (Neh 8:9–10, 12)

Nehemiah’s encouragement of the people and their positive response, to celebrate the first day of the seventh month by eating, drinking, and sharing with individuals who had none, echoes a commandment that originates in Deuteronomy (16:11): there, the commandment to observe the festivals includes the instruction to share with “your male and female slave, the Levite in your communities, and the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow in your midst.” The simplest understanding of the expression in Esther, therefore, is that it connotes the institution of this day as a festival, complete with a directive to ensure the inclusion of people who lack the means to hold a festive meal themselves. 14 According to this reading, the sending of gifts parallels the “presents to the poor” that Mordecai ordered in his letters (see immediately below). 15 3. Spontaneity is gone from the third stage, in which Mordecai institutionalized the celebration through the letters he sent “near and far,” that is, to the Jews of Shushan and the Jews of the other provinces. 16 Mordecai recorded these events. And he sent dispatches to all the Jews throughout the provinces of King Ahasuerus, near and far, charging them to observe the fourteenth and fifteenth days of Adar, every year— the same days on which the Jews enjoyed relief from their foes and the same month which had been transformed for them from one of grief and mourning to one of festive joy. They were to observe them as days of feasting and merrymaking, and as an occasion for sending gifts to one another and presents to the poor. (9:20–22)

14.  This reading also presents the Jews as the complete contrast to their depiction by Haman, as noted above. 15.  This runs counter to the talmudic view that one may “send gifts” to any friend or neighbor, as opposed to the “presents to the poor.” Berlin adopts the reading of the sages and adds, “Esther 9:22 distinguishes between manot, which were given to all, and mattanot, ‘presents,’ for the poor” (Berlin, Esther, 88). I regard this as a regular instance of the biblical phenomenon of parallel expressions. 16.  I regard the expression “Mordecai recorded these events” as a heading for the contents of the letters that are immediately set forth; this accords with the opinions of Paton and Dommershausen (L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther [ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908] 293; W. Dommershausen, Die Estherrolle: Stil und Ziel einer alttestamentlicher Schrifl [SBM 6; Stuttgart: Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1968] 123). The medieval commentators regard this expression as an allusion to the writing of the actual text of Esther. Rashi, for example, writes (on Esth 9:2): “‘Mordecai recorded’—this very scroll, just as it is.“ Some modern scholars have adopted this reading, although they offer alternatives (Moore, Esther, 93). For a discussion of the difficulties inherent in this interpretation, see D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story ( JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 177. The Septuagint adds, “Mordecai wrote these things in a book,” an addition that seems to corroborate Rashi’s reading.

Stages of the Festival’s Acceptance

199

Fox argues that the verb clause ‫‘( לקים עליהם‬charging them’ in jps 1985) implies that Mordecai did not present his words as a demand to create a new custom but as a formalization of the popular custom that was already being practiced: “The uses of qayyem elsewhere show that it means ‘validate’ or

‘confirm,’ rather than ‘command, demand.’ . . . In all cases, it refers not to the inception of a legal action or condition, but rather to the formalization or fulfillment of a decision or a previously declared intention.” 17 Even assuming the

correctness of Fox’s assertion, Mordecai may still have modified or added to the celebration in addition to formalizing it. Indeed, I contend that, in this section, the narrator intends primarily to draw the reader’s attention to Mordecai’s modifications. Mordecai requested something very simple, although the traditional manner of observing Purim masks and confuses Mordecai’s request. 18 Mordecai asked that all the Jews celebrate for two days: “charging them to observe the fourteenth and fifteenth days of Adar, every year.” 19 We may reasonably argue that Mordecai intended for all Jews to celebrate the 14th to commemorate the general victory and the 15th to commemorate the particular victory in Shushan. A verse that appears later in this section supports this reading in its description of Haman: “For Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite, the enemy of all the Jews, had plotted to destroy the Jews, and had cast pur—that is, the lot—with intent to crush and exterminate them” (9:24). The narrator describes Haman as the “enemy of the Jews” in three other places (3:10, 8:1, 9:10). This verse represents the only occasion in which the text calls him the enemy of all (‫ )כל‬the Jews, underlining the danger that threatened Jews everywhere and calling for solidarity in celebration. Furthermore, Mordecai’s words allude to a point we raised earlier concerning the importance of the 15th of the month in Jewish culture. Mordecai asked the Jews to celebrate “the same days on which the Jews enjoyed relief from their foes” and also “the same month which had been transformed for them from one of grief and mourning to one of festive joy” (9:22). Since the full moon, the 15th of the month, represents the epitome and essence of the month, Mordecai seems to be promoting it as a day of celebration for all Jews. 17.  Fox, Character, 118. 18. Among modern scholars as well, there have been some who projected the custom as practiced today onto Mordecai’s words—to my view, without justification (see, for example, ibid., 114; Berlin, Esther, 89). 19.  This reading arises as a possibility in a discussion in the Babylonian Talmud: “And let us say un-walled [cities] on the 14th, walled [cities] on the 14th and 15th, as it is written, ‘charging them to observe the fourteenth and fifteenth days of Adar, every year’?” (b. Meg. 2b). The Talmud answers that the text could have written “the fourteenth and the fifteenth”; this would have denoted a two-day celebration. The insertion of the direct object (‫ )את‬instructs the reader to treat the two days as separate entities. Of course, the plain reading of the text also allows for the possibility raised in the Talmud’s question.

200

Chapter 17

Regarding the nature of the festival, Mordecai’s letters differ from the spontaneous celebration in two noteworthy ways. First, Mordecai omits the description of the festival as a “holiday,” which is especially striking in light of the appearance of this term in his subsequent description of the general reversal of the month: “the same month which had been transformed for them from one of grief and mourning to one of festive joy (‫ליום‬ ‫)טוב‬.” The shift of this term from a characterization of the holiday itself to a general description of the experience of reversal requires some explanation. If the expression merely connotes a sense of general joy, then the change seems unwarranted. Perhaps the narrator merely wished to maintain linguistic variety and preserve a similar sentence structure. 20 In other words, since Mordecai added a clause to the description of the celebration, he omitted another in the interest of preserving its triplet pattern and rhythm. Thus:   Description of the festival, stage 2: “merrymaking and feasting/ and as a holiday/ and an occasion for sending gifts to one another”   Description of the festival, stage 3: “feasting and merrymaking/ and as an occasion for sending gifts to one another/ and presents to the poor”

However, if the expression “as a holiday” implies a Sabbath-like prohibition against labor, then Mordecai’s omission of it completely alters the nature of the day’s observances and drives a wedge between the emerging celebration and the biblical festivals. Mordecai’s letter also added an element to the spontaneous celebrations: “presents to the poor” to go along with “sending gifts.” As noted, both of these elements refer to the provision of goods for those who had none, and, as such, Mordecai seems to be emphasizing rather than introducing this feature. This also allows the reader to discern Mordecai’s choices as a leader: he highlighted the obligation of extending the joy to others through charity over the “holiday” aspects of the celebration. Perhaps it was for this reason that he mentioned “feasting” before “merrymaking,” in contrast to the popular celebration, which reversed the order.

20.  Herman (“When Was the Book of Esther Included in the Biblical Canon?” 325) suggests that the omission of the term “holiday” in Mordecai’s letters arises from consideration for the views of those who opposed the perpetuation of the events; the establishment of these models of perpetuation represented a sort of compromise, according to which two days would be commemorated, but would not have a publicly festive character as expressed in the wearing of festive clothing, public gatherings etc. Rather, they would suffice with the customs of feasting and joy, the sending of portions to one another, and giving gifts to the poor.” However, the context indicates that at this stage Mordecai was not yet aware of the popular opposition to the celebration of the 15th, making it unlikely that the omission of the term “holiday” represents a sort of compromise.

Stages of the Festival’s Acceptance

201

At first glance, it seems that the Jews accepted Mordecai’s demand: “The Jews accordingly assumed as an obligation that which they had begun to practice” (that is, the celebration of the 14th) “and which Mordecai prescribed for them” (9:23)—that is, the addition of another day of festivity, the 15th of Adar. The following summarizing verses (9:24–28) reinforce the reader’s sense that this acceptance represents the final stage of the institution of Purim as a Jewish festival:   For Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite, the foe of all the Jews, had plotted to destroy the Jews, and had cast pur—that is, the lot—with intent to crush and exterminate them. But when [Esther] came before the king, he commanded: “With the promulgation of this decree, let the evil plot, which he devised against the Jews, recoil on his own head!” So they hanged him and his sons on the gallows. For that reason these days were named Purim, after pur.   In view, then, of all the instructions in the said letter and of what they had experienced in that matter and what had befallen them, the Jews undertook and irrevocably obligated themselves and their descendants, and all who might join them, to observe these two days in the manner prescribed and at the proper time each year. Consequently, these days are recalled and observed in every generation: by every family, every province, and every city. And these days of Purim shall never cease among the Jews, and the memory of them shall never perish among their descendants.

These verses not only offer a clear summary of the entire narrative (albeit with some slightly different details—see below) but also an etiology for the celebration and name of the festival. Such a summary would serve as a fitting conclusion to the narrative as a whole. Its forward-looking final sentence generates a clear sense of finality. The innocent reader might assume that the story ends at this point. To the reader’s great surprise, however, it continues with Mordecai and Esther’s dispatching yet another set of letters. Before examining this matter and clarifying the manner in which it sheds light on the historical observance of Purim, let us address the summarizing verses and their discrepancies with the fully developed plot. First, they never mention Mordecai. Second, they make no mention of the battles between the Jews and their enemies. Third, the pur, so marginal to the plot, features prominently in the summary. Finally, the main difference between this description and the plot of the narrative is the king’s response to Esther’s request. In the narrative itself, the king prevented the annulment of Haman’s decree by claiming the irrevocability of anything signed by the king. In the summary, however, we read, “When [Esther] 21 21.  Paton doubts that Esther is the subject, since she is not mentioned in the sentence at all. He therefore adopts the version of the Septuagint: “When he [Haman] came before the king” (Esther, 296). Driver offers a daring interpretation: in his view, the word ‫ובבואה‬ (‘when she came’) is a corruption of ′‫ ה‬′‫ א‬′‫—וב‬an abbreviation for ‘when Queen Esther came . . .’ (G. R. Driver, “Abbreviations in the Massoretic Text,” Textus 1 [1960] 128). As

202

Chapter 17

came before the king, he ordered: ‘With the promulgation of this decree, let the evil plot, which he devised against the Jews, recoil on his own head!’” Some scholars have viewed these discrepancies as proof that this summary represents an alternative source for the basis for the festival, one that does not accord with the Esther narrative. 22 Nevertheless, the narrator chose to include it and the reader must explain its contribution. In fact, the differences cause the reader to wonder why the narrator left the summary as is instead of emending it to conform to the narrative. To explain this, let us first note that these discrepancies do not truly contradict the narrative but offer a different style of writing and a different, more distant and more general perspective. The plot of any narrative, by nature, focuses on details. In contrast, official and widely distributed letters tend to convey the essence of the event, even at the expense of changing certain details, for the sake of brevity and clarity. At the same time, I believe that, by integrating the summary of the story within the broader narrative, the narrator is making a statement of general literary value: the story could have been told differently! For some readers, this may sound like a postmodernist suggestion. However, the subsurface meanings that pervade Esther provide evidence of the narrator’s awareness that the same events may be presented from several angles and perspectives. The narrator consistently employs devices that indicate alternative and hidden understandings of the same reality. Here, this device assumes overt expression, with the narrator explicitly integrating a description of the events from the official, royal point of view. The reader suddenly discovers that, had the story been told from the king’s perspective, it would have differed in certain central details, such as the king’s role in the cancellation of Haman’s decree. We may now return to the reader’s surprise at discovering the dispatch of a new, fourth set of letters immediately after he or she expects the narrative to draw to a close: 23 farfetched as this suggestion sounds, it is adopted by Moore, who incorporates it into the body of his translation: “But when Queen Esther came before the king” (Moore, Esther, 92). See also the asv: “but when the matter came before the king”; nau: “But when it came to the king’s attention”; nib and niv: “But when the plot came to the king’s attention.” 22.  Paton, for example, asserts: “The non-mention of Esther in this passage is additional evidence of its literary independence. . . . A different account of the transaction and of the reason for the King’s sentence is given in 7:8. This is a further evidence of the literary independence of this section” (Esther, 296). See also S. E. Loewenstamm, “Esther 9:29–32: The Genesis of a Late Addition,” HUCA 42 (1971) 117–24. 23. Many readers have the impression that the dispatch of Esther’s letters was “another conclusion” to the narrative, added at a later stage (see especially ibid., 117–24). The tendency to solve literary difficulties with recourse to source-critical methods often has the effect of missing some important messages that are being emphasized in situations where the story surprises the reader (Fox, Character, 124–25).

Stages of the Festival’s Acceptance

203

Then Queen Esther daughter of Abihail wrote a second letter of Purim for the purpose of confirming with full authority the aforementioned one of Mordecai the Jew. Dispatches were sent to all the Jews in the hundred and twenty-seven provinces of the realm of Ahasuerus with an ordinance of “equity and honesty”: These days of Purim shall be observed at their proper time, as Mordecai the Jew—and now Queen Esther—has obligated them to do, and just as they have assumed for themselves and their descendants the obligation of the fasts with their lamentations. And Esther’s ordinance validating these observances of Purim was recorded in a scroll. (9:29–32)

Queen Esther (“daughter of Abihail”) and Mordecai (“the Jew”) succeeded in gaining the ratification of the new holiday only after dispatching yet another round of letters. In terms of content, these letters add nothing; they simply demand that the Jews uphold and celebrate Purim in the manner that “Mordecai the Jew” had already ordained but with the added authority of the queen. Rather than representing a new institution, this final letter seems designed only to reinforce the previous letter. The letters themselves imply the reason for a new letter with their reference to “an ordinance of equity and honesty” (9:30). There seems to have been a need for reconciliation between parties involved in disagreement and conflict. 24 Apparently (for reasons that will be discussed below), the Jews of Ahasuerus’s kingdom did not readily respond to Mordecai’s order and accept the 15th until after receiving these additional letters (or, at least, so it seems from the concluding image of the text). The reader may discern the “equity and honesty” of this final letter by comparing it with Mordecai’s letter (see table 17.1, p. 204). A quick comparison reveals a development from the first letter to the latter that occurs in two main areas. First, Esther signed the second letter, not just Mordecai. More precisely, “Queen Esther daughter of Abihail” and “Mordecai the Jew” (both mentioned with their full epithets) signed the letter. This disparity between their respective positions draws emphasis in the aftermath of each dispatch. At first, it seems that the Jews accepted what Mordecai ordained, but we see later that the situation did not last. In contrast, at the end of the second set of letters the narrator tells us that Esther’s ordinance validated the festival. Ibn Ezra notes, “It was not confirmed by [virtue of] Mordecai alone, until Esther [also] wrote.” Two considerations recommend themselves as the reasons for the acceptance of Esther’s letters. (1) Esther sent her letters as queen, as a symbol of authority not meant to be taken lightly. The Jews of the provinces may or may not have desired to perpetuate Purim; Esther may have left them no choice. (2) Alternatively (and almost diametrically opposed), some Jews may have been loath to accept Mordecai’s new position and may have 24.  Contra R. Gordis, “Studies in the Esther Narrative,” JBL 95 (1976) 57–58.

204

Chapter 17

Table 17.1.  Comparison of Letters Mordecai’s Letter (9:20–28) Mordecai recorded these events.

And he sent dispatches to all the Jews throughout the provinces of King Ahasuerus, near and far charging them to observe the fourteenth and fifteenth days of Adar, every year—the same days on which the Jews enjoyed relief from their foes and the same month which had been transformed for them from one of grief and mourning to one of festive joy. They were to observe them as days of feasting and merrymaking, and as an occasion for sending gifts to one another and presents to the poor. The Jews accordingly assumed as an obligation that which they had begun to practice and which Mordecai prescribed for them.

Final Letter (9:29–32) Then Esther the queen, the daughter of Abihail, and Mordecai the Jew, wrote down all the acts of power, to confirm this second letter of Purim. And he sent letters to all the Jews in the hundred and twenty-seven provinces of the realm of Ahasuerus with an ordinance of “equity and honesty”: These days of Purim shall be observed at their proper time, as Mordecai the Jew—and now Queen Esther—has obligated them to do, and just as they have assumed for themselves and their descendants the obligation of the fasts with their lamentations.

And Esther’s ordinance validating these observances of Purim was recorded in a scroll.

begrudged Mordecai’s failure to leave the exile and return to the Temple in Jerusalem. It would be difficult to cast aspersions of this sort on Esther, who was taken against her will to the royal palace and whose selfless devotion to her people had certainly become known to the Jewish communities far and wide. In this sense, the letters identify Esther not only as “queen,” but also as “the daughter of Abihail” 25 In addition to the addition of Esther’s signature, one receives the impression that the second letter reflects a greater sensitivity and gentility than the earlier letters. This impression arises from several slight differences between the two dispatches. The first letters addressed all Jews, “near and far.” This formulation underscores the distinction between the Jews of Shushan and those of the other provinces and, more importantly, clearly adopts a Shushan-centered perspective. “Near” and “far” are, obviously, relative terms that reflect the speaker’s stance. By using this formula, Mordecai placed himself at the center of the events, with everyone else merely 25. See Fox, Character, 125; Y. A. Berman, “Hadassah Bat Abihail: The Evolution from Object to Subject in the Character of Esther,“ JBL 120 (2001) 647–69.

Stages of the Festival’s Acceptance

205

witnessing from “afar.” The second set of letters omitted this expression; instead, Mordecai sent “an ordinance of equity and honesty.” 26 Similarly, there is a difference between the letters regarding the fundamental basis on which the ordinance of Purim rests. The first letters base the celebration on “the same days on which the Jews enjoyed relief from their foes and the same month which had been transformed for them from one of grief and mourning to one of festive joy” (9:22)—that is, Mordecai expected the Jews of all the provinces to celebrate the day of salvation of the Jews of Shushan (the 15th). The second letter advanced the reason for the acceptance of the festival: “just as they have assumed for themselves and their descendants the obligation of the fasts with their lamentations” (9:31). The medieval commentators offer two different interpretations for this last verse, as Ibn Ezra records: The meaning of [the phrase], “just as they have assumed for themselves and their descendants the obligation of the fasts with their lamentations” is, according to many, the day of the Fast of Esther . . . but to my mind . . . ‘the fasts’ refers to the fasts mentioned in the book of Zechariah, which occur in the months of Tammuz, Av, Tishrei and Tevet. What this means is that the Jews took upon themselves to celebrate the days of Purim just as they had taken upon themselves and upon their descendants to fast on the days of their mourning, when the walls of the city [of Jerusalem] were breached and the Temple was burned.

The advantage of the first interpretation, that the phrase “the fasts” refers to the Fast of Esther, lies in its direct connection with the narrative. Mordecai and Esther, in essence, argued to the Jews that it would be inappropriate to accept fasts at a time of trouble without later acknowledging the miraculous salvation. 27 On the other hand, the formulation seems to indicate that Mordecai and Esther appealed to a custom that the Jews had been keeping already for generations (“for themselves and for their descendants”), as though to advance it as a precedent for accepting commemorations not ordained by the Torah. This makes it clear why Ibn Ezra preferred his alternative explanation. The “fasts and lamentations” refer to the fasts that the Jews had taken upon themselves in commemoration of the destruction of the Temple, as enumerated in the prophecy of Zechariah: “Thus said the Lord of Hosts: the fast of the fourth month, the fast of the fifth month, the 26.  The addition of the word ‫‘( אמת‬truth’) alongside ‫‘( שלום‬peace’) should be understood here as an adjective rather than another noun. Mordecai sends letters of “true peace,” of “firm peace,” as it were. This use of the word ‫ אמת‬appears elsewhere, both when joined to the abstract noun “peace,” as in our case (see 2 Kgs 20:19 [= Isa 39:8]; Jer 14:13, 33:6), and when joined to the abstract noun ‫‘( חסד‬kindness’; see, for example: Gen 24:49, 47:29; Josh 2:14; 2 Sam 2:6). 27.  Another advantage of this interpretation is the covert (and surprising) connection that is thereby created between the days of fasting and the days of celebration, between fasting and feasting (see my article “Feasting and Fasting”).

206

Chapter 17

fast of the seventh month, and the fast of the tenth month shall become occasions for joy and gladness, happy festivals for the House of Judah; but you must love truth and peace” (Zech 8:19). 28 According to this reading, Mordecai and Esther ordained the establishment of Purim using the previously accepted fasts as precedent. 29 Basing Purim on the precedent of fasts commemorating the destruction adds a new dimension to the significance of the final letters. Mordecai and Esther thereby demonstrated their connection to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and the builders of the Temple. They emphasized that they had no intention of establishing some new exilic religion or tradition. Rather, they regarded the establishment of Purim as a direct continuation of the Jewish tradition of lamenting the destruction of the Temple. Perhaps this connection contributed toward the overall Jewish acceptance of the festival. This leads us to the very heart of the debate surrounding the establishment of the days of Purim. The complexity of the acceptance process indicates that the people did not easily and unquestioningly accede to Mordecai’s ordinance. Gunkel claimed that between the lines we might hear the opposition of pious Jews to celebrating a holiday not commanded by God. 30 Though this is plausible, I believe that the key to understanding the resistance lies elsewhere. The narrator refers to the non-Shushanite Jews with a peculiar epithet: “the village Jews, who live in unwalled towns.” As noted, this expression gives the non-Shushanite Jews an independent, affirmative identity. Moreover, the term ‫( פרזים‬translated here as ‘villages’) appears in Moses’ sermon in Deuteronomy, where he describes the conquest of the territories on the eastern side of the Jordan: “All those towns were fortified with high walls, gates, and bars—apart from a great number of unwalled towns (‫( ”)ערי הפרזי‬Deut 3:5). By using an expression that reminds the reader of the Israelite conquest of Canaan to describe the Jews living in the provinces, the narrator discreetly reminds his readers of an alternative Jewish center to Shushan—Yehud, which was recently revived by the arrival of Babylonian exiles but is struggling for survival. 31 Its existence casts aspersions on Shushan’s authority to impose its holiday on the entire Jewish world. This internal Jewish dialogue provides the background to 28. This interpretation is also preferred by Fox, Character, 126, and Berlin, Esther, 92–93. However, Fox claims that it “refers generally to any communal fast that can be proclaimed following or preceding a disaster” (Character, 127). 29.  It is possible that the expression discussed above, ‘words of peace and truth’ (‫שלום‬ ‫ )ואמת‬allude to Zechariah’s prophecy, which concludes with the same words: “But you must love truth and peace” (‫)אמת ושלום‬. 30. H. Gunkel, Esther (Religionsgeschichtliche Volksbücher 2; Tübingen: Mohr, 1916) 44–45. 31. See also H. M. Niemann, “Das Ende des Volkes der Perizziter,” ZAW 105 (1993) 233–57. He claims that the root ‫ פרז‬involves a semantic opposition between “here” and “there.”

Stages of the Festival’s Acceptance

207

chap. 9 and its description of the attempt to convince Jews everywhere to celebrate Purim. Thus it seems that behind the “legal discussion” of the establishment of the Purim holidays lies a political struggle between the two centers of Judaism in that time period—in Persia and in Israel. Mordecai called on the Jews to acknowledge the 15th of Adar as well, a request that in essence demanded that the unique deliverance of the Jews of Shushan be the central point of their celebrations. The reservations that the Jews felt in the outer provinces of the kings (apparently, specifically in Yehud) regarding the celebration of the 15th of Adar expresses the same reservations as in the Persian Jewish community, the Jewish elite who did not return to the land after King Cyrus’s decree. The story concludes with a Jewish consensus to celebrate two days (the 14th and 15th), though it seems that this is a reflection of the author’s perspective, and the covert argument hinted at in this chapter does not yet come to light at this point. In the Tannaitic period, there is new testimony that indicates a sort of compromise between these two rival centers of Judaism. The Mishnah, at the beginning of Tractate Megillah, describes a reality in which the Jews instituted two days of Purim celebration, though some of the Jews celebrated on the 14th and some on the 15th. The 15th of Adar was celebrated by communities outside the walls of Shushan as well (as asserted by Mordecai); however, in the Mishnah this is not a two-day celebration, and those who commemorated the 14th did not observe the 15th (which was the original spontaneous celebration in the years immediately following the war). Surprisingly, the division between the places in which the 14th was observed and in which the 15th was observed was established during Joshua Bin Nun’s conquest of the land of Israel: “Cities which, from the time of Joshua Bin Nun, were surrounded with walls, read on the fifteenth of Adar. Villages and large open towns should read on the fourteenth of Adar” (m. Meg. 1:1). Thus, Mordecai’s intended jab at the Jewish community in Israel as being secondary to the community in Persia lost its sting. Formally, a number of Jews did celebrate the 15th; however, this commemoration no longer stemmed from the deliverance of Shushan. Instead, the honor of pronouncing this ruling was transferred to Yehud!

Chapter 18

The Greatness of the King and the Greatness of Mordecai (Esther 10) Praise Him for His mighty acts; praise Him for His exceeding greatness. —Ps 150:2 The brief final chapter of the book of Esther (three verses in all) brings the “double writing” of the narrative to a decisive and pointed conclusion. Here, too, the reader should remain wary of the plain message that exalts the characters and, instead, take note of the hidden messages beneath the words, contrasting with the plain reading. Before examining this assertion more closely, we should note that the language in chap. 10 resonates with a microcosm of the dispatch of Esther’s letter in chap. 9 (see table 18.1). This parallel serves to present both leaders of the Jewish nation—“Queen Esther” and “Mordecai the Jew, second-incommand to King Ahasuerus”—with their faces toward the Jewish people: Esther used her authority to establish the days of the festival, while Mordecai used his position to intercede on behalf of his people. As previously noted, the story presents Mordecai as its original hero, later replaced by Esther, until they finally serve jointly as co-heroes. 1 Chapter 10 opens with this bit of information: “King Ahasuerus imposed tribute on the mainland and the islands” (10:1). Many scholars have questioned the function and contribution of this rather strange piece of information, which seems to hold no interest for the reader. 2 Daube raises 1.  See above, pp. 27–35. 2.  Elsewhere in the Bible, the term ‫ מס‬means forced labor (BDB, 587). As Ehrlich notes, since the book of Esther was composed late (relative to the other books of the Bible), it is more likely that the term refers to a tax or tribute, the familiar sense of the term in the rabbinic period (A. B. Ehrlich, Randglossen zur Hebräischen Bible [Leipzig: Hildesheim, 1968; repr.] 7.125). However, even if the term refers to the taking of man-servants and maidservants for the royal house, this statement is interesting in that it creates a link to Israel’s subjugation in Egypt. According to this interpretation, the book concludes as a contrast to the beginning of Exodus: here Mordecai seeks the good of his nation, while the king subjugates the rest of his subjects (for a discussion of the connection to the story of Joseph, in this context, see Fox’s view, below, n. 5). It should be remembered that in Esther’s words at the second wine party, we also encounter the idea of the sale of the Jews as “slaves and

208

The Greatness of the King and the Greatness of Mordecai

209

Table 18.1.  Comparison of Queen Esther and Mordecai the Jew Letters Sent by Esther (9:29–32) “Queen Esther. . . wrote. . . with full authority (‫”)את כל תוקף‬ “Queen Esther, daughter of Abihail, wrote (‫”)ותכתב‬ “Dispatches were sent to all the Jews . . . with an ordinance of equity (‫)שלום‬ and honesty”

“and Esther’s ordinance validating . . .”

Greatness of the King and Greatness of Mordecai (10:1–3) “All his mighty and powerful (‫)תקפו‬ acts” “are recorded (‫ )כתובים‬in the Annals of the Kings of Media and Persia” “was highly regarded by the Jews and popular with the multitude of his brethren (‫ ;)רב אחיו‬he sought the good of his people and interceded for the welfare (‫ )שלום‬of all his kindred” “For Mordecai the Jew ranked next to King Ahasuerus . . .”

an interesting possibility by suggesting that Mordecai initiated this tax to compensate the king for what he lost as a result of Haman’s plan’s not being realized. The kingdom never received the promised “ten thousand talents of silver” in return for license to annihilate the Jews (3:9). 3 The problem with this hypothesis is that the plain text suggests that the king had already foregone this revenue, 4 and it seems unlikely that, following the subsequent upheavals, the king would suddenly recall this specific loss. Fox suggests that the reference to the tax imposed on the land serves to create another connection with Joseph, the Hebrew lad who, after rising to greatness, instigated an economic revolution in Egypt (Genesis 47). The narrator of the book of Esther ends his story in a similar way: here, too, Mordecai became second-in-command to the king who imposed a tax on the citizenry. 5 maid-servants” (7:4). In any event, the plain reading speaks of a law regulating the payment of a tax to the king. 3. D. Daube, “The Last Chapter of Esther,” JQR 37 (1946–47) 139–47. 4.  Daube is aware of this difficulty and tries to prove that the king was, in fact, interested in the money. Commenting on the king’s words, “The money is yours,” implying that he had foregone the sum, Daube writes: “I believe that the phrase used by the king . . . ought to be taken as meaning exactly the opposite of what it appears, to us, to mean” (ibid., 142). He compares this to the dialogue between Abraham and Ephron concerning the sale of the Cave of Machpelah: although at the outset Ephron expressed his willingness to forego the payment, he clearly sought remuneration—and ultimately received full payment (Genesis 23). To my mind, the king’s words also may be viewed as a polite refusal that actually means the opposite. This interpretation is also adopted by G. H. Cohen, Studies in the Five Megillot ( Jerusalem: Jewish Agency, 2006) 297 n. 4. 5.  M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001) 129–30.

210

Chapter 18

I propose a simpler reading: by conveying this piece of information, the narrator is seeking to legitimize the dominion of Ahasuerus. The imposition of a tribute represents the prime expression of sovereignty over an area (see Josh 16:10, 17:13; 1 Kgs 9:20). Through it, the reader understands that the king ruled over “the mainland and the islands.” 6 The following verse seems to support this intention: “All his mighty and powerful acts . . . are recorded in the Annals of the Kings of Media and Persia” (10:2). The juxtaposition of these verses seems to recommend the tax as but one example of the “mighty and powerful acts.” Thus, the story concludes with a final look at the kingdom of Ahasuerus, as though the mighty deeds of the heroic king represent the gist of the narrative. The narrative also opened with a presentation of Ahasuerus’s greatness and wealth. The general concentric structure of the book, likewise, positions the beginning of the narrative opposite its ending, putting its emphasis on the king and seemingly identifying him as the hero of the story. 7 The depiction of the king as the protagonist of the story and as an allpowerful figure is an illusion. In truth, the king corresponds to something closer to the accepted definition of an antihero than a hero, who really influences the course of events. Illustrating the grandeur of his kingdom by noting a tax that he imposes represents the literary conclusion of a narrative that contains no small measure of scorn and derision. The narrative began with a description of the king’s magnanimity, throwing parties for his officers and the Shushanites (chap. 1) and granting remissions of taxes (2:18). By the end of the story, the readers learn exactly who really funds the king’s generosity.

The Joseph Narratives and the Book of Esther The above message represents the essence of the extensive parallels between the Esther narrative and the Joseph narratives. The connection itself (both linguistic and substantial) has been widely acknowledged and written about, though its significance has been interpreted in different ways. 8 6. Interestingly, following Esther’s coronation the king “proclaimed a remission of taxes for the provinces,” whereas following the appointment of Mordecai the opposite happened. 7.  See the introduction (pp. 35–37, 38–45). 8.  The ancient rabbis noted the connection; see Esth. Rab. 7. Among modern scholars, I believe Ludwig A. Rosenthal pioneered this approach (“Die Yosefsgeshichte mit den Büchern Ester und Daniel verglichen,” ZAW 15 [1895] 278–84). Many others followed. Moshe Gan and Arndt Meinhold add further points of comparison in their work (M. Gan, “Esther Viewed through the Perspective of Joseph in Egypt,” Tarbiz 31 [1962] 144–49; A. Meinhold, (“Die Gattung der Josefsgeschichte und des Estherbuches: Diasporanovelle– Part II,” ZAW 88 [1976] 72–93). For an extensive discussion of the comparison, see S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure (SBLDS 44; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979) 123–52; she develops this connection and also addresses the books of Daniel, Ruth, and Judith. See also G. H. Cohen, “Introduction To Esther,” in Esther (Daʿat Mikra;

The Greatness of the King and the Greatness of Mordecai

211

At the outset, we must emphasize that that both Mordecai and Esther are compared with Joseph. On the one hand, for example, the description of Mordecai’s greatness, “The king slipped off his ring, which he had taken back from Haman, and gave it to Mordecai. . . . Mordecai left the king’s presence in royal robes of blue and white, with a magnificent crown of gold” (Esth 8:2, 15), echoes the description of Joseph’s greatness in Egypt: “And removing his signet ring from his hand, Pharaoh put it on Joseph’s hand, and he had him dressed in robes of fine linen, and put a golden chain about his neck” (Gen 41:42). On the other hand, the description of the selection of Esther, “‘Let Your Majesty appoint officers in every province of your realm to assemble all the beautiful young virgins at the fortress Shushan, in the harem under the supervision of Hege, the king’s eunuch, guardian of the women. Let them be provided with their cosmetics’. . . . The proposal pleased the king, and he acted upon it” (2:3–4), parallels Joseph’s words to Pharaoh: “‘Let Pharaoh take steps to appoint overseers over the land, and organize the land of Egypt in the seven years of plenty. Let all the food of these good years that are coming be gathered’. . . . The plan pleased Pharaoh and all his courtiers” (Gen 41:34–35, 37). It furthermore seems that the alternation between Mordecai and Esther in being compared with Joseph corresponds to the shift in the identity of the narrative’s central protagonist, 9 constituting an example of “dynamic analogy,” a literary mode that we will address below. There are several approaches to the significance of this connection. Some regard the entire network of parallels between the Esther and Joseph narratives as nothing more than an artistic device. In other words, when the reader recognizes familiar expressions and exchanges, his esthetic experience and overall enjoyment are enhanced. A variation on the same idea contends that the narrator borrowed expressions from Genesis to lend his work the texture of an ancient biblical narrative. 10 I find it difficult to accept, however, that such a broad and consistent connection, sustained throughout the story, makes no significant contribution to the story and its message. Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974) 12–14; Y. T. Cahn, Links beyond Time: The Book of Esther in Light of the Life of Yoseph (Southfield: Targum, 1995); S. Niditch, “Esther: Folklore, Wisdom, Feminism and Authority,” in A Feminist Companion to Esther, Judith and Susanna (ed. A. Brenner; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995) 26–27; K. Butting, “Das Buch Esther: Vom Widerstand gegen Antisemitismus und Sexismus,” in Kompendium Feministische Bibelauslegung (ed. L. Schottroff and M. Wacker; Gütersloh: Chr. Kaiser, 1999) 169–79. 9. Nevertheless, note that specifically in the first part, where Mordecai represents the main character, Esther is compared with Joseph (except for one instance, Mordecai’s persistent refusal to bow, which I addressed on pp. 87–88), whereas in the second part of the story—where Esther takes the reins and becomes the main character—Mordecai is compared with Joseph. See below. 10.  See, for example, Y. Avishur, Megillot (World of the Bible; Tel Aviv: Davidson Atai, 1994) 222–23.

212

Chapter 18

Cohen proposes the following: “It is possible that the author of the Scroll seeks to highlight the fact that the story recounted in the Scroll is not a one-time event, but rather a narrative of a super-historical nature. Jewish history repeats itself, as it were, with the hand of Divine Providence continually guiding it.” 11 Expanding on this idea, we may add that the narrator of Esther wants his readers to extrapolate elements made explicit in the story of Joseph, most notably Divine providence, to scenes in Esther where the same elements do not appear. The rise of a Hebrew youth to the position of second-incommand to the king testifies to manipulation by God. The narrator places this judgment in Joseph’s mouth: “It was to save life that God sent me ahead of you” (Gen 45:5). Thus, the story of Joseph becomes the paradigmatic model for the “dual causality” argument: an event has two causes—(revealed) human activity, and (hidden) Divine activity. 12 The book of Esther makes no such assertion, though it alludes to it in various ways, including, it seems, reference to the Joseph narratives. 13 Aside from these theories, I believe that the link also advances certain criticisms. Both narratives describe salvation in a foreign land. The reader, however, who is familiar with the continuation of Joseph’s story, knows that his success was short lived, eventually developing into servitude under the Pharaoh’s regime: “A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph. And he said to his people, ‘Look, the Israelite people are much too numerous for us. Let us deal shrewdly with them. . . .’ So they set taskmasters over them, to oppress them with forced labor” (Exod 1:8–11). The book of Esther ends on a note similar to the book of Genesis: the Gentile regime includes a Jewish representative who intercedes on behalf of his people (as Fox notes—at the expense of the other citizens of the country, who suffer from his economic decrees). However, a reader familiar with the continuation of the story of Israel in Egypt sees a premonition of what may happen to the Jews of Shushan. An allusion appears in Esther 10, in a verse we have already discussed: “King Ahasuerus imposed tribute on (‫ מס על‬. . . ‫ )וישם‬the mainland and the islands.” Though taxes appear elsewhere in the Bible (alas, inevitably), this peculiar formulation of “imposition” appears only at the end of Esther and the beginning of Exodus: “They set taskmasters 11.  Cohen, Introduction, 14. 12.  About “dual causality,” see I. L. Seeligmann, “Menschliches Heldentum und Gött­ liche Hilfe: Die doppelte Kausalität im alttestamentlichen Geschichtsdenken,” ThZ 19 (1963) 385–411 (especially p. 386 n. 1); Y. Kaufmann, The Book of Joshua (2nd ed.; Jerusalem: Kiriat Sepher, 1987) 128; Y. Amit, “The Dual Causality Principle and Its Effects on Biblical Literature,” VT 37 (1987) 385–400; J. Grossman, “The Design of the ‘Dual Causality’ Principle in the Narrative of Absalom’s Rebellion,” Bib 88 (2007) 558–66. 13.  This is in contrast to the view of Meinhold, who argues that, on the contrary, the book of Esther seeks to present an alternative to the perception that arises from the stories of Joseph, where Divine providence protects Joseph (A. Meinhold, “Die Gattung der Josefsgeschichte und des Estherbuches: Diasporanovelle–Part II,” ZAW 88 [1976] 72–93).

The Greatness of the King and the Greatness of Mordecai

213

over them (‫וישימו עליו שרי מסים‬, Exod 1:11). 14 This refers the reader to the aftermath of the Joseph story, in which, despite Joseph’s power, the Israelites were ultimately victimized. Thus, the narrator intimates that the Esther narrative may turn out the same way as the Joseph narrative. While on the surface the book concludes on a joyful note, its hidden dimension leaves the reader hanging, not knowing how the Jews fared under subsequent Persian emperors and after Mordecai’s time.

“All His Mighty and Powerful Acts Are Recorded” (10:2) Following the description of the tax, the narrator invokes a formula that readers may recognize from its repeated use in the books of Kings and Chronicles: “All his mighty and powerful acts . . . are recorded in the Annals of the Kings of Media and Persia” (see, for example, 1 Kgs 16:5 and 22:45, where the narrator informs us that other acts of the Israelite or Judean kings can be found in the royal chronicle). Haupt suggests that the expression “all his mighty and powerful acts” refers to Mordecai and not to the king; in his opinion, the sentence should read, “A full account of the greatness to which the king advanced Mordecai and all his mighty and powerful acts are recorded in the Annals of the Kings of Media and Persia.” 15 This reading may make more sense considering that the book of Esther’s hero is Mordecai and not the king; however, Haupt’s suggestion to change the format of the verse has no real foundation. By ending the story with an expression closely identified with the kings of Israel and Judah, the narrator implies hidden criticism and heaps covert scorn beneath the auspicious veneer. On the one hand, the reader achieves the hoped-for closure at the end of the story, and nothing could be more appropriate than this concluding formula with its momentary “cut” to the broader history (of the king!). However, the reader who recalls the kings of Israel and of Judah, in light of this expression, cannot but dwell on the chasm separating the kingdom of Ahasuerus from the kingdom of Israel in its own land; the chasm separating the Chronicles of the Kings of Media and Persia and the Chronicles of 14.  A similar formulation appears in Judg 1:28: “They subjected Canaan to forced labor.” However, the linguistic formulation there is slightly different from the way it appears in our case. For a discussion of the parallels between our text and the story of the exodus from Egypt (Exodus 1–12), see G. Gerleman, Esther (BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973) 11. He notes principally the following connections: a Jewish man is introduced into the palace of the non-Jewish king; the existential danger to the nation of Israel; Israel’s victory over its enemies; a festival for all generations that is established in the wake of the victory. Still, we may wonder whether these connections indicate an intentional parallel. 15. P. Haupt, “Critical Notes on Esther,” AJSL 24 (1907–8) 174.

214

Chapter 18

the Kings of Israel and Judah. 16 The story of Esther and Mordecai remains a Persian story, and its characters remain under the dominion of Ahasuerus. Coming as it does at the end of the story, the mention of the royal chronicle carries a biting criticism of the Shushanite Jews. Even though they played an important role in the plot, it was an episode in the story of the Persians, and they remain in exile in a land not their own. In this context, Gordis raises the interesting hypothesis that the book of Esther actually originated as a part of the Persian royal chronicles, thereby explaining why its style accords with the norms of Persian historiography. 17 Indeed, this impression arises from several of the details in the story, especially the conclusion. 18 Nevertheless, this façade of Persian chroniclewriting seems to represent yet another “mask,” another manifestation of the narrator’s hidden writing style. Neither the king nor his kingdom undergoes any significant change during the course of the plot, even though its literary structure focuses the reader’s attention on Ahasuerus’s rule. Segal adopts, to my mind, the correct approach regarding the text’s similarity to a Persian chronicle as an intentional literary device: “All of the actions in the story are undertaken naturally, and by human beings; not by God. However, this secularity is external and artificial. It belongs to the narrator’s art of garbing his creation in story form, as though taken from the Book of Chronicles of the Kings of Media and Persia (2:23; 7:1; 10:2).” 19 In other words, Esther is a Jewish story hidden behind the formal veneer of a Persian chronicle. In exile, the story of the Jews is subordinate to and hidden behind the stories of other people. Against this background, it becomes difficult to treat the concluding verse seriously: “For Mordecai the Jew ranked next to King Ahasuerus and was highly regarded by the Jews and popular with the multitude of his brethren; he sought the good of his people and interceded for the welfare of all his kindred” (10:3). Indeed, Mordecai achieved an impressive position in the Persian regime and used it to advocate on behalf of his nation (anticipating a role that, in time, would become very familiar). The narrator projects great pride in Mordecai’s status, employing variations of the word ‘great’ (‫ )גדול‬three times in the final two verses, which conclude the narrative, apparently, on a high note. Humphreys indeed claims that Mordecai typifies, for every 16.  Contrary to F. Bush, Ruth, Esther (WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998) 496. 17. R. Gordis, “Religion, Wisdom and History in the Book of Esther: A New Solution to an Ancient Crux,” JBL 100 (1981) 359–88. 18.  Note that Mordecai, not Esther stood at the king’s side in the closing verses, a style that befits a royal chronicle. The form of writing here has led some scholars to assert that “some other document has made its way into Esther” ( J. D. Levenson, Esther [OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997] 132; and similarly D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story [JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984] 57). This, however, is unnecessary. The focus on the king serves a literary purpose. 19.  M. Z. Segal, Mavo ha-Mikra ( Jerusalem: Kiriat Sefer, 1955) 3.721.

The Greatness of the King and the Greatness of Mordecai

215

Diaspora community, the possibility “of living a creative and rich life in the foreign environment, as part of the complex social, political, and economic dynamics of that world, and also of remaining a devoted and loyal member of his community of fellow Jews.” 20 The expression ‘highly regarded by the Jews’ (‫ )גדול ליהודים‬appears only twice in the entire Bible, both times in the book of Esther. It first appeared in the description of the Jews when they heard of Haman’s decree: “Also, in every province that the king’s command and decree reached, there was great mourning among the Jews (‫)אבל גדול ליהודים‬, with fasting, weeping, and wailing, and everybody (‫ )לרבים‬lay in sackcloth and ashes” (4:3). There, we recall, Mordecai was not able to approach the king’s palace because of his garb. The expression appears again in the final verse (which also states that he was “popular with the multitude (‫ )לרוב‬of his brethren.” 21 If the narrator indeed intended this admittedly dubious connection, then we must consider its contribution to the conclusion of the story. It may benignly represent yet another expression of the plot’s reversal, contrasting the Jews’ great mourning upon learning of their victimhood with their pride in Mordecai’s greatness and his ability to intercede on their behalf. However, I have the impression that through this link the narrator expresses his disdain for Mordecai’s greatness, which was bestowed on him by the king. Both the power and victimhood of the Jews depended on the king’s whim and could change in an instant; indeed, the narrative emphasizes this point. A further comparison highlights the allusion to the king’s fickleness in these verses. The description of Mordecai’s greatness echoes Haman’s boasting to his cronies about his own elevated status (see table 18.2). The expression ‘to which the king advanced him’ (‫ )אשר גדלו המלך‬appears nowhere else in the entire Bible and seems to link these two scenes. Once again, the connection may simply highlight the reversal of fate between the king’s two ministers. However, it seems to me that, had the purpose of this connection been merely to mold the principle of the reversal, it would have been integrated at an earlier stage of the narrative (perhaps alongside the description of Mordecai’s greatness in chap. 8) rather than in the very last verse of the entire narrative. It seems that here the parallel indicates the narrator’s reservations about Mordecai’s greatness: indeed, 20.  W. L. Humphreys, “A Life-Style for Diaspora: A Study of the Tales of Esther and Daniel,” JBL 92 (1973) 216. 21.  The expression ‘the account of Mordecai’s greatness’ (‫—פרשת גדולת מרדכי‬10:2) may also remind the reader of Mordecai’s own words immediately after the parallel scene of mourning: “and all about the money (‫ )ואת פרשת הכסף‬that Haman had offered to pay into the royal treasury” (4:7). These are, I believe, the only instances in the Bible of the term ‫‘( פרשה‬account, episode’). The term indicates a precise incident or an “exact statement” (BDB, 831; G. R. Driver, “Problems and Solutions,” VT 4 [1954] 237–38). It is difficult to ignore the sense of cynicism that arises from the conclusion of the story: the danger of annihilation facing the Jews indeed requires precision in conveying the details of the story and making them explicit and clear. Does Mordecai’s status require the same precision?

216

Chapter 18

Table 18.2.  Haman and Mordecai Compared Haman (5:11) “Haman told them about his great wealth and his many sons” “and all about how the king had promoted him and advanced him above the officials and the king’s courtiers”

Mordecai (10:2–3) “For Mordecai the Jew . . . was highly regarded by the Jews and popular with the multitude of his brethren” “and a full account of the greatness to which the king advanced Mordecai”

Mordecai attained greatness—but Haman enjoyed the same greatness! Just as Haman lost his status in an instant, so might Mordecai. In light of this, we may wonder whether the expression ‘popular with the multitude of his brethren’ (‫ )רצוי לרוב אחיו‬likewise conveys a certain degree of ambiguity. The simple meaning of the word ‫ רוב‬is ‘many’, as we read concerning Haman in the corresponding verse cited above (“his great wealth and his many sons,” (‫רוב בניו‬, 5:11), as well as in many other places. However, the talmudic sages adopted an alternative reading of this expression, as a relative term indicating ‘a majority’ rather than ‘all’: “‘Most of his brethren,’ but not ‘all of his brethren’; this tells us that some members of the Sanhedrin (High Court) disagreed with him” (b. Meg 16b; cited also by Rashi on Esth 10:3). Even the Medieval Spanish peshat-oriented exegete Ibn Ezra adopts a similar position: “‘Accepted by most of his brethren’— since a person is not able to please everyone, because of fraternal jealousy.” 22 However, this reading remains unlikely, given the usual meaning of the term ‫ רוב‬in the Bible. 23 Moreover, “the multitude of his brethren” parallels “the Jews” of the prior hemistich, which clearly refers to all of Mordecai’s fellow Jews. 24 Nevertheless, by selecting this expression, the narrator allows for the alternative reading. On the surface, the Jewish multitudes accepted Mordecai; on a deeper level, however, the narrator implies that some Jews did not view Mordecai’s popularity in a favorable light. Though it appears that the term “interceded for the welfare of all his kindred (‫ ”)לזרעו‬refers to the Jewish people as a whole, it is no coincidence that the author chooses to use the word “kindred” (literally, ‘seed’), which implies that he was concerned for his own children. The author did not intend to say that Mordecai interceded for the welfare of his children alone; rather, through the use of this familial word, he draws a stark contrast between Mordecai’s posterity and Haman’s loss of his entire legacy. 22.  As “and many lay in sackcloth and ashes” (‫—שק ואפר יצע לרבים‬4:3) “means most of them had a sack-cloth” (Haupt, “Critical Notes,” 133). 23.  BDB, 913. 24.  L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 305.

The Greatness of the King and the Greatness of Mordecai

217

The continuation of the Jewish legacy in contrast to Haman’s sudden end is emphasized in the “first conclusion” of the narrative as well: “And the memory of them shall never perish among their seed” (9:28). However, even now, the author inserts one last ironic allusion in the face of Mordecai’s position. Haupt suggests a link between this passage and the verse in Psalm 122. The passage “Mordecai the Jew ranked next to King Ahasuerus and was highly regarded by the Jews and popular with the multitude of his brethren (‫ ;)אחיו‬he sought the good of his people (‫)דרש טוב לעמו‬ and interceded (‫ )דבר שלום‬for the welfare of all his kindred” (10:3) may remind the reader of Ps 122:8–9: “For the sake of my kin (‫ )אחי‬and friends, I pray for your well-being (‫ ;)אדברה נא שלום‬for the sake of the house of the Lord our God, I seek your good (‫)אבקשה טוב‬.” 25 Although I highly doubt that this is an intentional literary connection, in this view, while Mordecai is appointed a position in the Persian kingdom, the Psalmist describes the kings of the House of David sitting in Jerusalem (Ps 122:5); while Mordecai, sitting in the palace, seeks favor for his people in the eyes of the Persian king, the Psalmist describes the pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem who pray for the peace of the city and the holy Temple. 25.  Haupt, “Critical Notes,” 175.

Chapter 19

Conclusion To conclude my proposed reading of the book of Esther, I note two elements that set its writing style apart from all other biblical books: the frequent single references to other biblical narratives and the “hidden writing” style, in which the plain text conveys one message, while the subtext conveys exactly the opposite message.

“Dynamic Analogies” in the Book of Esther The many allusions embedded in the book of Esther that direct the reader’s attention to other stories contribute to the creation of a unique model of analogy. 1 In his methodological article, Paul Noble argues that, in order to establish the probability of an analogy, corresponding analogues must remain constant. 2 He seeks to refute the literary analogy proposed by Rendsburg and Ho, presenting the story of Judah and Tamar (Genesis 38) as a parallel to David’s succession narrative (2 Samuel 9–2 Kings 2) 3 and objects to this analogy in part because it creates a situation whereby a character in one of the narratives corresponds to several characters in the other. Thus, for example, according to Rendsburg and Ho, Tamar in the story of Judah corresponds to Absalom’s sister Tamar, Uriah, Bathsheba, Nathan, the woman of Tekoa, David’s concubines, and Abishag. Noble finds this hypothesis absurd and unreasonable. 4 Noble’s argument makes sense in general, but it must be broadened to consider instances in which the analogical shift serves a literary purpose. Even if the poetics of analogy generally only allows for a one-to-one correspondence, in certain cases the intertextual analogies advance a type of reference in which a single character from one narrative corresponds to multiple characters in the other, making it difficult for the reader to trace a continuous and consistent analogy. I have suggested on another occasion 1.  The following discussion is based on my previous research: “‘Dynamic Analogies’ in the Book of Esther,” VT 59 (2009) 394–414, along with additions that have developed since its publication. 2.  Paul R. Noble, “Esau, Tamar, and Joseph: Criteria for Identifying Inner-Biblical Allusion,” VT 52 (2002) 219–52. 3.  G. A. Rendsburg, “David and His Circle in Genesis xxxviii,” VT 36 (1986) 438–46; C. Y. S. Ho, “The Stories of the Family Troubles of Judah and David: A Study of Their Literary Links,” VT 49 (1999) 514–31. 4.  Noble, “Esau, Tamar,” 225–28.

218

Conclusion

219

that this phenomenon, assuming it is intentional, may be called “dynamic analogy.” 5 This phenomenon occurs often in biblical analogies; however, the book of Esther especially epitomizes it. As we have seen throughout the length of the book, the author of Esther employs single references, by means of which he alludes to other biblical narratives, thereby in essence superimposing the Esther narrative over the referenced narrative. The narratives of Joseph in Egypt, Saul’s war against Amalek, 6 the end of David’s life, and the book of Daniel are among the best-known referents of the book of Esther. The narrator of Esther employs a sophisticated lattice of allusions to create dynamic analogy within the story. In light of the numerous examples of this literary phenomenon in the narrative, I regard it as intentional. For the reader, this dimension presents an obstacle to maintaining a steady reading of the analogies between the narratives. Out of all the analogies to other biblical stories that accompany the reading of Esther, some of which have been discussed in this book, I wish to focus on six instances in which, to my mind, the narrator is deliberately “playing” with the reader. In addition to the individual contribution of each analogy to the shape and message of the narrative, which we have examined, the lack of one-to-one correspondences between the analogues and the characters in Esther makes its own contribution to understanding the text. Jacob and Esau Among the manifold references to the stolen blessings (Genesis 27), Mordecai’s reaction to Haman’s decree stands out most prominently: “He went through the city, crying out loudly and bitterly (‫( ”)זעקה גדלה ומרה‬4:1). This expression resonates with Esau’s reaction after learning that Jacob had stolen his blessing: “When Esau heard his father’s words, he burst into wild and bitter sobbing (‫( ”)צעקה גדלה ומרה‬Gen 27:34). The midrash notes this connection: “Jacob caused Esau to cry out once, as it is written: ‘When Esau heard his father’s words, he burst into wild and bitter sobbing.’ When was [Jacob] punished for this? In the fortress Shushan, as it is written: ‘crying out loudly and bitterly’” (Gen. Rab. 67:4). This surprising allusion links Mordecai to Esau and Haman to Jacob, both of the former reacting similarly to defeat at the hands of both of the latter. 7 5.  Grossman, “Dynamic Analogies,” 394–95. 6.  See, for example: William McKane, “A Note on Esther IX and I Samuel XV,” JTS 12 (1961) 260–61; Jonathan Magonet, “The Liberal and the Lady: Esther Revisited,” Judaism 29 (1980) 167–76. 7.  C. A. Moore (Esther [AB 7B; New York: Doubleday, 1971] 47) and others have pointed out this literary connection. Bergey offers the following explanation for the switch from the ṣade in ‫ צעקה‬to the zayin of ‫זעקה‬: “It is clear that in exilic and post-exilic times a change occurred in the use of the emphatic sibilant ‫ צ‬in comparison to the use of the voiced sibilant ‫ ז‬in the verb ‫ זעק – צעק‬and noun ‫( ”זעקה – צעקה‬R. L. Bergey, The Book of Esther: Its Place in the Linguistic Milieu of Post-Exilic Biblical Hebrew Prose [Ph.D. diss., Dropsie College,

220

Chapter 19

This example by no means exhausts the list of allusions to the relationship between Esau and Jacob. In fact, the reader may recall them even before Mordecai’s cry; after discovering Mordecai’s refusal to bow, Haman “disdained to lay his hands on Mordecai alone” (Esth 3:6). The verb ‘disdained’ (‫ )ויבז‬appears, in this form, in only one other place in the Bible—in the narrative’s implied judgment of Esau’s disdain for the birthright he had sold (Gen 25:34). Interestingly, the midrash notes this connection as well: “‘He disdained to lay his hands on Mordecai alone’—a disdained one, son of a disdained one. Previously it was written, ‘Esau disdained the birthright,’ and here it is written, ‘He disdained . . . and Haman plotted to do away with all the Jews’” (Esth. Rab. 7:10). 8 Both images describe the origins of a conflict between adversaries, and in both encounters, the more senior, favored character shows disdain for the ostensibly subservient character, who challenges or undermines the authority of the former. 9 Furthermore, in both narratives, the initial disdain leads the character to a much greater loss. 10 Thus, whereas in the first allusion Mordecai corresponds to Esau and Haman to Jacob, the analogues are reversed in the second allusion. 11 Philadelphia, 1983] 121). The connection reinforces the view of Moore (Esther, 47) and of A. Berlin (Esther [jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001] 45) that Mordecai‘s cry should not necessarily be viewed as a religious expression but, rather, as a reaction of sorrow (in contrast to the view of Paton, Anderson, Levenson, and others). Shapira shows that Mordecai’s cry may also be understood as being directed toward the king, like the cry of the woman of Tekoa before David (2 Sam 14:2–4; Y. Shapira, A Postmodernist Reading of the Biblical Book of Esther: From Cultural Disintegration to Carnivalesque Text [Ph.D. diss.,State University of New York, 1996] 150). 8.  Add also in Tg. Esth. I: “for they had told him that Mordecai was a descendant of Jacob, who had taken away from Esau, the ancestor of Haman, the right of the first-born and the blessing” (3:6). 9.  In this context, Day draws a fine comparison between Haman and Ahasuerus, who holds a huge banquet for the masses: “Ahasuerus is able to find a way to stoke his ego and give benefit to the many at the same time. Haman, however, can only pamper his own ego by bringing destruction upon the many” (L. M. Day, Esther [Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries; Nashville: Abingdon, 2005] 68–69). 10.  In addition to the instances where each shows disdain, the omniscient narrator allows the readers to glimpse into the mind of Esau and Haman in another instance. Regarding Esau’s intent to kill Jacob (Gen 27:41) and in the context of Haman’s plan to ask for Mordecai to be hanged (6:6), the conspiring character “speaks to himself.” The midrash notes this connection in the following teaching: “From a person’s words you can tell whether he likes you or hates you. For we find in the case of the wicked Haman that he spoke to Mordecai with his mouth, but hated him in his heart, as it is written: ‘Haman was filled with rage at Mordecai.’ Similarly, ‘Esau said to himself: Let but the mourning period of my father come, and I will kill my brother Jacob’” (Midr. Prov. 26). Aside from these two, only four other biblical characters “speak to themselves”: God (Gen 8:21), Abraham (Gen 17:17), David (1 Sam 27:1), and Jeroboam (1 Kgs 12:26). This phenomenon occurs in prophetic literature as well (in Hosea, Obadiah, and Zechariah) and in Psalms and Ecclesiastes; however, it is difficult to see this link as a deliberate allusion in this context. 11.  It should be noted that Amalek—apparently represented by Haman in the narrative—is a descendant of Esau (Gen 36:11–16).

Conclusion

221

In light of the existing parallels between the narrative of Esther and the Jacob/Esau rivalry, we may compare another pair of characters: from Esther, Mordecai “learned all that had happened” (4:1), and therefore he convinced Esther to appear before the king, contrary to her will. After she “put on royal apparel” (5:1), she appeared before the king, inviting him to her party. In the story of the stolen blessings, Rebecca “had been listening as Isaac spoke to his son Esau” (Gen 27:5), and therefore she convinced Jacob to present himself to Isaac, contrary to his will. After donning Esau’s best clothes (Gen 27:15), Jacob appeared before his father, bringing tasty food that his father liked. In this analogy, Mordecai, the senior character who sent his adopted daughter to the king who had the power to save, parallels Rebecca, the senior character who sent her son Jacob to Isaac, who had the power to bless. The clueless king paralleled blind Isaac 12 while Esther, using deceit to obtain salvation, paralleled Jacob. 13 The Jacob/Esau narrative contributes to the Esther narrative by helping develop the themes of displaying and hiding identity. The sale of the birthright and Jacob’s disguise force the reader to grapple with issues of identity, whether the son should be identified by his voice or his hands, whether the status of the firstborn was fungible, and whether Jacob was only able to receive the blessings while dressed as Esau. The stolen-blessings narrative deals with concealment and with masks; as such, it brings the question of identity to the fore. 14 The book of Esther also seems to address this literary theme. At the beginning of the narrative, Esther hid her identity (2:10, 20), planting the issue in the mind of the reader and causing him or her to wonder whether the king (the analogue of blind Isaac) or anyone else had an inkling of Esther’s identity as she stood before him. The narrator’s focus on Esther’s wearing royal garments a moment before she entered the king’s chamber transforms these garments into a theatrical costume: Esther had to look like a Persian queen in order to convince the king. Yet Esther’s real identity—as a queen or as a Jewish woman—remained unknown. 15 In my view, the scene in which Mordecai tore his garments, as we mentioned in our discussion of chap. 4, represents the stage in which Mordecai removed his Persian mask and returned to his Jewish national identity. 16 12.  “In actuality, Haman steals the king’s mind by blocking Ahasuerus’s view of Haman’s motives: to gain courtly position, to take revenge against Mordecai” (Shapira, Postmodernist, 146). 13.  For extensive discussion of this connection, see ibid., 144–50. 14. For a discussion of masks in biblical narratives and the questions of identity to which they give rise, see Y. Zakovitch, Man Sees with His Eyes, but God Sees into the Heart: On Disguise and Its Results in Biblical Narratives ( Jerusalem: Akademon, 1998). 15. Compare M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001) 68; S. B. Berg, The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure (SBLDS 44; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979) 70. 16. Compare T. K. Beal, Esther (Brit Olam; Collegeville, MN:  Liturgical Press, 1999) 59–60, 70.

222

Chapter 19

A chapter later (5:1), in contrast, Esther had to don her royal robes—that is, a Persian identity—in order to win salvation for her people. The narrator keeps the story of Jacob and Esau in mind as a classic literary model, in which the hero must assume a different identity in order to prevail. The Stories of Joseph and Daniel As I mentioned above, there is an extensive link between the story of Esther and the stories revolving around Joseph in the book of Genesis. Several scholars note the connection between the book of Esther and the stories of Joseph and append to this comparison the book of Daniel as well. 17 In the context of the present discussion, I will seek to point out the dynamism of the analogy that makes it difficult to construct a stable literary model. Biblical scholars generally (and correctly) compare Esther’s finding favor in the eyes of Hegai and the king (Esther 2) with Joseph’s finding favor in the eyes of Potiphar and the captain of the prison (Genesis 39). 18 This connection causes the reader to regard Esther, a Jewish exile who rises to prominence in the royal court, as the mirror image of Joseph. 19 The language that the narrator uses in the next chapter to report Mordecai’s refusal to bow down to Haman alludes to Joseph’s refusal to lie with Potiphar’s wife. Likewise, Mordecai represents Joseph’s analogue in his acceptance of the king’s ring and in leaving the king’s presence in royal apparel. Thus, in contrast to the beginning of the story, the narrator presents Mordecai as a parallel to Joseph. Shapira gives eloquent expression to the confusion: In form, Mordecai parallels Joseph: the ring, the garments, the status of second-in-command (specifically in the closing formula). In content, however, most of the themes relate to Esther: the royal clothing; as a queen she is second-to-the-king . . . and, her name is changed too, from Hadassah to Esther. 20

It is equally difficult to identify a stable model of analogy vis-à-vis Daniel. At first, Esther is reminiscent of the success of Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah: although these young men sought nothing, the king 17.  For instance: G. H. Cohen, “Introduction To Esther,” in Esther (Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1974) 12–16; Berg, Esther, 123–52; Y. T. Cahn, Links beyond Time: The Book of Esther in Light of the Life of Yoseph (Southfield: Targum, 1995). See above, in my discussion on this subject (pp. 210–213). 18. For example, J. D. Levenson, Esther (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997) 60. 19.  Indeed, some scholars find the significance of this comparison in the presentation of Joseph as a “model” for Esther: K. Butting, “Das Buch Esther: Vom Widerstand gegen Antisemitismus und Sexismus,” in Kompendium Feministische Bibelauslegung (ed. L. Schottroff and M. T. Wacker; Gütersloh: Chr. Kaiser, 1999) 171. 20.  Shapira, Postmodernist, 203. She makes an interesting comment later on, pointing out that Joseph’s name is changed to Zaphenath-Paneah, which hints at decoding, deciphering, or revealing (‫ )פענוח‬of secrets, while Esther’s name arouses associations of ‘hidden, concealed, covered’ (‫)הסתרה‬.

Conclusion

223

chose them over the other youths (Daniel 1). As the narrative continues, however, we note a different analogy: Mordecai, who sat at the king’s gate and refused to bow down to Haman despite the king’s order, reminds the reader of Daniel, who sat at the king’s gate (Dan 2:49), and of his companions, who refused to bow down to the golden idol despite the king’s order (Daniel 3). Moreover, the story of Esther may even encourage the reader to view Haman as a type of reflection of Daniel. Some scholars have pointed out the connection between the two scenes of the king’s insomnia. 21 After experiencing a frightening dream, Nebuchanezzar’s “spirit agitated him and he could not sleep” (Dan 2:1). 22 He called his wise men, none of whom could explain his dream. This scene introduces Daniel’s entry before the king. His successful interpretation won him great honor and promotion (Dan 2:48). This scene parallels the passage in which sleep escaped Ahasuerus, causing him to call his servants to read from the annals, all by way of introducing Haman’s appearance. Note that Haman felt certain that a great honor awaited him, a fact that reinforces the analogy to Daniel. The fact that Mordecai ultimately received the promotion that Haman expected confuses the reader, who is aware of the broader analogies to Daniel. Thus, both Joseph and Daniel have their analogues in the persons of Mordecai, Esther, and, for a brief moment, Haman himself. Ahab and Jezebel As previously discussed, two scenes in Esther refer to the narrative of Ahab and Naboth’s vineyard (1 Kgs 21). The first is Haman’s dispatch of letters in the king’s name (3:12–13), which parallels the scene in which Jezebel sent letters sealed with the king’s signet, ordering Naboth’s death (1 Kgs 21:8). 23 I addressed the significance of this connection above and suggested that it indicates a negative evaluation of the king and his responsibility toward actions taken in his name: 24 even if Ahasuerus remained unaware exactly what Haman wrote in his name, 25 he bore responsibility, and cannot claim innocence. The narrator hid his evaluation of Ahasuerus, alluding to it only through the reference to Ahab, who also remained unaware of what Jezebel wrote in his name yet was held fully accountable by the prophet. The second analogy between scenes from Esther and the Naboth narrative relates to the manner in which wives advise and “cheer up” their 21.  For example: S. HaKohen and Y. Keel, Daniel (Daʿat Mikra; Jerusalem: Mosad HaRav Kook, 1994) 24; Berlin, Esther, xl. 22.  This latter part has also been translated ‘yet he was overcome by sleep’. See also Dan 6:19. 23. Yair Zakovitch notes the connection between the dispatch of Mordecai’s letters in chap. 8 and the dispatch of Jezebel’s letters (“Kerem Haya le-Naboth,” in M. Weiss, The Bible and Modern Literary Theory [3rd ed.; Jerusalem: Bialik, 1987] 364). 24.  Above, pp. 107–109. 25. As Berg correctly argues (Esther, 101–2).

224

Chapter 19

Table 19.1.  Reactions of Mordecai and Ahab Ahab (1 Kgs 21:27) When Ahab heard these words, he rent his clothes and put sackcloth on his body. He fasted and lay in sackcloth, and walked about subdued.

Mordecai (Esth 4:1) When Mordecai learned all that had happened, Mordecai tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes. He went through the city, crying out loudly and bitterly.

husbands. Haman returned home angry at Mordecai’s recalcitrance (5:9), whereupon Zeresh advised him to execute Mordecai so that he could enjoy his party with the king (5:14). This scene corresponds, in all its details, to the scene in which Ahab sullenly returned home following Naboth’s refusal to sell him his vineyard. He also told his wife what happened, and his wife also suggested executing the adversary and attempted to cheer up her husband (1 Kings 7–10). 26 These analogies involve a switch between corresponding characters. In the first set of scenes, Haman corresponds to Jezebel and Ahasuerus to Ahab, while in the second set, Haman corresponds to Ahab and Zeresh to Jezebel. Finally, a third, perplexing correspondence emerges from a comparison of the respective reactions of Mordecai and Ahab upon hearing their verdicts (see table 19.1). 27 Thus, Mordecai also adduces comparison with Ahab (albeit only at the stage where Ahab regrets his actions). Ahab had to remove himself from the palace and from his wife, Jezebel, in order to rend his garments—which helped to postpone his punishment. Mordecai also had to distance himself from the royal palace when he tore his garments; however, unlike Ahab, not only did he not sever his ties with the queen in the palace, but he inspired her to action, creating a new and special bond between the characters. Thus, the author of Esther “plays” with the character of Ahab. At first, Ahasuerus, a king whose seal authorized edicts unknown to him, represents Ahab. Later, Haman, seeking his wife’s aid in doing away with an enemy, parallels the Israelite king. Finally, when Mordecai rends his garments, he evokes the image of Ahab doing the same. 26.  I have previously suggested that Zeresh’s intention was to accuse Mordecai of rebelling against the crown, as expressed in her proposal to have him hanged on the gallows, paralleling the fate of Bigthan and Teresh (see above, pp. 138–140). 27. Y. Feintuch, “Judah and Jacob; Ahab and Ahasuerus—Comments on the Methodology of the Use of Analogy as an Exegetical Device,” Megadim 44 (2006) 9–23 [Heb.].

Conclusion

225

The Greatness of Joshua At first glance, the book of Joshua seems very far removed from the plot of Esther, its pace, and its messages. National, public events that carry a military atmosphere of battlefields fill the narratives that describe the conquest of Canaan by Joshua. In contrast, the heroes of the Esther narrative operate individually; the reader experiences tension of a personal nature, not a national nature (even if the results of the event will affect the fate of all the Jews). The battle described in Esther is not conducted between nations but between people (even if they symbolize different ethnicities), and it focuses on a very limited geographic area: the royal court. Nevertheless, several common motifs and expressions link the narratives, thereby potentially hinting at a deliberate connection between them. The following represent the main parallels between the narratives. The description of Joshua’s greatness serves as a background to the greatness of the two competitors in the book of Esther. Haman’s status is described as follows: “Some time afterward, King Ahasuerus promoted (‫גדל‬ ‫ )את‬Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite; he advanced him and seated him higher than any of his fellow officials” (3:1). The only other appearance of the expression ‫ גדל את‬in the entire Bible occurs in the description of Joshua’s greatness, and it possible that the author of Esther drew the linguistic formula from there: “On that day the Lord exalted (‫ )גדל את‬Joshua in the sight of all of Israel” ( Josh 4:14). 28 The author of Esther also employs another description of Joshua’s greatness to convey the greatness of Mordecai. Just before the battles take place, the narrator describes Mordecai’s new status in the following words: “For Mordecai was now powerful in the royal palace, and his fame (‫ )שמעו‬was spreading through all (‫ )בכל‬the provinces; the man Mordecai was growing ever more powerful” (9:4). The expression ‫ בכל‬. . . ‫ שמעו‬also occurs only in one other place in the Bible: “The Lord was with Joshua and his fame (‫)שמעו‬ spread throughout (‫ )בכל‬the land” ( Josh 6:27). 29 Aside from the description of Haman’s greatness on the one hand and Mordecai’s greatness on the other, it seems that in the very salvation of the Jews from Haman’s decree the author of Esther is introducing expressions 28.  T. S. Laniak, Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther (SBLDS 165; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 79 n. 32. See also Josh 3:7, 1 Chr 29:25. 29.  L. B. Paton, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908) 285. Compare the words of the Gibeonites ( Josh 9:9) and the prophecy of Jeremiah ( Jer 6:24). It is possible that the second part of the description of Mordecai’s greatness (“Mordecai was growing ever more powerful”) refers the reader to the description of Joshua’s teacher, Moses: “Moses himself was much esteemed in the land of Egypt, among Pharaoh’s courtiers and among the people” (Exod 11:3). Recall that in both cases the narrator is describing a Jewish “man” in a foreign land, a man whose greatness influences the actions of the indigenous population (the subjects of the Persian kingdom were “Judaized,” while the Egyptians lent their vessels of silver and of gold). See below.

226

Chapter 19

from Joshua: “no one could withstand them (‫)ואיש לא עמד בפניהם‬, for the fear of them had fallen upon all the peoples” (Esth 9:2). This expression finds its parallels in the book of Joshua, where it appears three times (and nowhere else): “The Lord said to Joshua: ‘Do not be afraid of them for I will deliver them into your hands; not one of them will withstand you (‫לא יעמוד‬ ‫ ( ”)איש מהם בפניך‬Josh 10:8); 30 “The Lord gave them rest on all sides, just as he had promised to their fathers on oath. Not one man of all their enemies withstood them (‫ ;)ולא עמד איש בפניהם‬the Lord delivered all their enemies into their hands ( Josh 21:42); “The Lord has driven out great, powerful nations on your behalf, and not a man has withstood you (‫)לא עמד איש בפניכם‬ to this day” ( Josh 23:9). 31 These linguistic connections force the reader to ask and ascertain whether there are common themes that link the narratives as well. Naturally, any such endeavor requires caution, since any two biblical books may be compared based on common themes such as reward and punishment or religious conflict. Thus, we seek hidden or common themes. 32 Aside from the issue of relations between Israel and Gentile nations, obviously addressed in both books, I would like to focus on two specific issues common to the narratives: plunder and the tribal identity of the main characters. a. The book of Esther puts special emphasis on the fact that the Jews did not plunder their enemies despite the fact that Haman’s edict and, in its wake, Mordecai’s edict specifically permitted the taking of spoils (the same formula is repeated three times! Esth 9:10, 15, 16). As I noted above, the same idea emerges powerfully at the beginning of the stories of conquest in the book of Joshua. 33 The prohibition against taking any of the spoils of Jericho and the subsequent defeat in the battle against Ai because of Achan’s violation make plunder a central theme of the entire narrative. 34 b. In general, we note that the main character in each narrative descended from Rachel ( Joshua was from the tribe of Ephraim [= Joseph] and Mordecai from Benjamin). While admittedly difficult to categorize this datum among “matters that are central to the way in which each story presents itself,” in the words of Noble, 35 let us recall that the Bible generally 30.  On the parallel between this verse and Josh 11:6, see E. Assis, From Moses to Joshua and from the Miraculous to the Ordinary ( Jerusalem: Magnes, 2005) 183 [Heb.]. 31.   A similar but not identical expression occurs in Dan 11:16. 32. See Noble, “Esau, Tamar,” 244. 33.  For a comparison with other biblical narratives featuring a similar idea ( Joshua, the battles against Sihon and Amalek) see Shapira, Postmodernist, 176–80. 34.  I do not mean by this to deny the possibility that the issue of spoil-taking links the Esther narrative to the descriptions of the battles against Amalek. For a discussion of the connection between the taking of spoils in both narratives, see, for example: McKane, Note, 261; D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story ( JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 160. 35.  Noble, “Esau, Tamar,” 244.

Conclusion

227

associates Israelite/Jewish leadership with the tribe of Judah. Thus, in both narratives, the main character represents alternative leadership. 36 c. I cautiously present to the reader a comparison noted in passing by Clines, between the fear of the Jews that seizes the inhabitants of the king’s provinces and the fear expressed by Rahab in her speech to Joshua’s spies and prompted by God’s providence over his nation and the great miracles that he performed for them. In Clines’s view, the fear that spreads among the Persians may be traced to the same root. 37 As noted, the significance of these allusions divides into two stages of contribution: local and global. The first concerns the contribution of each individual allusion to the scene in which it appears. The second stage, which we shall address presently, concerns the general message conveyed by the comparison. Once we detect a linkage that goes beyond a single, isolated allusion, we may consider whether the author of Esther wished to present the book of Joshua as a backdrop for the narrative. To be precise, Joshua does not provide background for the reading of Esther. Rather, the descriptions of renown and greatness in Esther rest on the descriptions of the renown of the characters in Joshua. The first two allusions mentioned above describe the elevated status of Haman, on the one hand, and of Mordecai on the other. The third allusion also describes the greatness of the Jews as a “collective hero” and an entity feared by all the nations, just as the Canaanite nations feared Israel during the conquest of the land. A careful comparison of the expressions in question from Joshua and their analogues in Esther highlights, alongside their similarity, the consistent discrepancy between the situations. The characters who attained greatness at the beginning and end of Esther (Haman and Mordecai, respectively) gained their promotion by the agency of or association with Ahasuerus (Esth 3:1, 9:4). In contrast, Joshua’s greatness is attributed in the analogous verses ( Josh 4:14, 6:27) to God’s grace and intervention. In fact, this distinction remains valid with respect to the greatness of the Jews in general: in Esther, fear of the Jews fell on the peoples, whereas in Joshua, the peoples feared God and his actions ( Josh 10:8, 21:42). 38

36.  The rabbis address this issue in their assertion that “the descendants of Amalek fall only by the hand of a descendant of Rachel” (Pesiq. Rab. 13). 37.  Clines, Esther, 40. 38.   The same distinction can be drawn between the stories of Joseph and the book of Esther, as demonstrated by Arndt Meinhold (“Die Gattung der Josefsgeschichte und des Estherbuches: Diasporanovelle–Part II,” ZAW 88 [1976] 72–93), and between the Esther narrative and the exodus narrative, as demonstrated by G. Gerleman (Esther [BKAT; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973] 11–30). For a discussion of the narrator’s hints at Divine providence in Esther by referring the reader to other biblical narratives, see also A. M. Rodriguez, Esther: A Theological Approach (Berrien Springs, MI: Andrews University Press, 1995) 40–43.

228

Chapter 19

The reader, thus reminded of the conquests of Joshua while reading Esther, encounters both similarities and fundamental differences between the narratives. On the surface level, Esther conveys a clear sense of the central value of attaining honor in the Persian kingdom. 39 Beneath the surface, however, by means of references to Joshua, the reader senses the illusory nature of this honor when he is reminded that God awards honor and grandeur to those whom he deems deserving. This very discrepancy echoes the teaching “It is the glory of God to conceal a matter, and the glory of a king to plumb a matter” (Prov 25:2). Additionally, the very projection of the Esther narrative against a backdrop of the conquest and settlement of Canaan suggests that the narrator ratchets down the importance of the events in Shushan and places them in their proper perspective. Despite Haman’s downfall and Mordecai’s rise, and despite the Jewish victory, Esther remains an exilic narrative, and its Jewish characters remained bereft of political independence. In contrast to Joshua, where the terror of the nations serves as a prelude to the Israelite conquest of Canaan, fear of the Jews in Esther enables only Jewish survival. Thus, alongside the atmosphere of great joy that pervades the description of the Jews’ salvation at the end of the story, the narrator hints at the tenuousness of the Jews’ situation by reminding the reader of the loss of Jewish national life and political sovereignty in Yehud. As before, the instability of analogies to the character of Joshua—first Haman, later Mordecai—reinforces this hidden theme of Jewish powerlessness. 40 The Building and Dedication of the Temple I have already pointed out that in several places the author of Esther alludes to the story of the dedication of the Temple by King Solomon. Surprisingly, this allusion is most prominent with Haman. After Haman emerged from Esther’s first party, having taken his leave from the king and queen, the narrator describes how “Haman went out happy and lighthearted (‫שמח‬

39.  Not coincidentally, entire studies have been devoted to the subject of honor and shame in the book of Esther. See, for example: Laniak, Shame. Lillian Klein also addresses this subject in an article entitled “Honor and Shame in Esther” (in A Feminist Companion to Esther, Judith and Susanna [ed. A. Brenner; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995] 149–75). There, she argues that sovereignty and power in the book of Esther are connected to honor and are attributed to men, while the individuals under their control are associated with shame, and these characteristics are attributed to women. I believe that this assertion misses the irony of the Esther narrative with regard to gender issues. On the contrary! Whereas its “official” position indeed requires women to fulfill their husbands’ demands, the narrator scorns this position and presents the women as the active forces in the plot. See below. 40.  Here the “dynamic analogy” is a necessity, since Joshua is presented all along as a model of greatness; as long as Haman retains a similar status, he parallels Joshua. The moment that this greatness passes to Mordecai, Mordecai becomes Joshua’s analogue. See also below.

Conclusion

229

‫( ”)וטוב לב‬5:9), 41 an expression that appears in this form in only one other scene in the Bible: the Israelites as they take leave of the king after celebrating the dedication of the Temple (1 Kgs 8:66; similarly, 2 Chr 7:10). 42 If it is intentional, this analogy links Haman’s joy with the joy of the Israelites upon completion of their Temple! The narrator of Kings describes the dedication as an outpouring of joy: “all the goodness that the Lord had shown to His servant David and His people Israel.” Here, the same expression describes the joy of Haman, archenemy of the Jews. The narrator thus introduces a large measure of cynicism into this scene; whereas the builders of the Temple rejoiced over the construction of a dwelling place for God, Haman celebrated his invitation to an exclusive drinking party. After the second party, as Haman’s downfall begins to be manifested, the narrator slips another allusion to the dedication of Solomon’s Temple into the text. When the king sent Haman to lead Mordecai on the horse through the city, he warned him: “Get the garb and the horse, as you have said, and do this to Mordecai the Jew, who sits in the king’s gate. Omit nothing of all you have proposed (‫( ”)אל תפל דבר מכל אשר דברת‬6:10). This formulation recalls the address that King Solomon delivered after the completion of the Temple: “Praised be the Lord Who has granted a haven to His people Israel, just as He promised; not a single word has failed of all the gracious promises that He made (‫( ”)לא נפל דבר אחד מכל דברו הטוב אשר דבר‬1 Kgs 8:56). In this analogy, God’s goodness in fulfilling his promises to Israel parallels the demand of Haman to lead Mordecai through the streets of Shushan. I believe that Frisch is correct in proposing that this connection hints that the God of Israel operates behind the scenes in the book of Esther. 43 The reader once again finds himself perplexed: on the one hand, Haman’s joy offers a glimpse of Israel rejoicing over the building of the Temple. On the other hand, Haman’s downfall and Mordecai’s rise intimate Divine control similar to the providence that enables the building of the Temple. 44 41.  Beal notes the connection between Haman, who emerged “happy and lighthearted” from Esther’s party, and the description of the king at the first banquet in Esther: “when the king was merry with wine” (1:10). Just as the king’s good mood was spoiled by Vashti’s refusal to appear before him, so Haman’s was spoiled by Mordecai’s refusal to bow down to him (Beal, Esther, 74). Judith Rosenheim (“Fate and Freedom in the Scroll of Esther,” Prooftexts 12 [1992] 139) also notes the connection between these two scenes. In her view, the common motif is the relationship between pleasure and power. See also Day, Esther, 105. 42. A. Frisch, “Esther vs. Kings,” Mechkarei Chag 3 (1992) 30. This expression also appears in the form of an abstract noun in Deut 28:47 (“joy and gladness”). 43.  Ibid., 31–33. 44.  Frisch proposes another interesting connection with the stories of Solomon: at the beginning of the story of Ahasuerus’s banquet, we read that “royal wine was served in abundance, as befits a king (‫( ”)כיד המלך‬1:7). Later, in the party celebrating the coronation of Esther, the king once again magnanimously “distributed gifts as befits a king (‫כיד‬ ‫( ”)המלך‬2:18). This expression occurs only once more in the Bible—in the description of Solomon’s generosity toward the queen of Sheba: “in addition to what King Solomon gave

230

Chapter 19

David and Bathsheba (the Anointing of Solomon) I have already discussed the link between Ahasuerus’s servants’ suggestion to appoint a new queen and the similar advice of David’s servants to their aging master (1 Kings 1). I have already mentioned the differences between these two suggestions and the implied criticism by the narrator of Ahasuerus and his approach to women. In this analogy, Ahasuerus stands parallel to David, who is searching for a wife (Esther, chosen as the wife of the king, is parallel to Abishag—the maiden chosen to serve as David’s companion). However, it is not just the opening scene of 1 Kings that constitutes an analogy to the story of Esther, but the entire story of Solomon’s anointing as king is hinted at throughout the book of Esther. This is especially prominent in the scene in which Nathan sends Bathsheba to the king to plead for the anointing of her son. This scene, surprisingly, is linked to the story of Esther in the image of Mordecai’s sending Esther to the king to plead for the sake of her people. 45 In both of these stories, the wife of the king is requested to approach the king at the advice of a third party with whom the queen is in contact (Nathan and Mordecai), and in both stories the queen enters the king’s courtyard in a state of distress, presented as a matter of life and death. Esther approaches the king with the mortal danger of Haman’s decrees looming over her; when Nathan sends Bathsheba to David, he says to her: “Now take my advice, so that you may save your life and the life of your son Solomon” (1 Kgs 1:12). The character who opposes Esther (Haman) is described as “almost king”: “Some time afterward, King Ahasuerus promoted Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite; he advanced him (‫ )וינשאהו‬and seated him higher than any of his fellow officials” Esth (3:1). So also, the character who opposes Bathsheba sees himself as “almost king”: “Adonijah the son of Haggith exalted himself (‫)מתנשא‬, saying, ‘I will be king’” (1 Kgs 1:5). Furthermore, both of these characters, Haman and Adonijah, are executed for a similar sin: Adonijah’s request for Abishag was interpreted by Solomon as an attempt to seize the king’s wife and rebel against the monarchy, and for this he was executed. Similarly, Ahasuerus interpreted Haman’s collapse on Esther’s bed as an attempt to ravish the queen, and for this he was hanged. If this is so, the scene in which Esther enters the king’s courtyard hints at the following analogy: Esther, parallel to Bathsheba, approaches Ahasuerus,

her out of his royal bounty (‫( ”)כיד המלך‬1 Kgs 10:13). This connection may be coincidental, but Frisch suggests viewing it as part of the broad set of comparisons between the book of Esther and the book of Kings (ibid., 31). 45.  Ibid., 25–35; A. Bazak, “Between Bathsheba and Esther,” in Hadassa Hi Esther (ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997) 33–46.

Conclusion

231

who corresponds to David; and Mordecai commands her to enter the king’s court, just as Nathan advised Bathsheba to approach David.  46 The analogy between the two stories extends even further. David accedes to Bathsheba’s request and commands Nathan to mount Solomon on his special mule and to anoint him: “Take my loyal soldiers, and have my son Solomon ride on my mule and bring him down to Gihon” (1 Kgs 1:33). Subsequently, Ahasuerus orders Haman to mount Mordecai on his special horse, as per his own suggestion. “Let royal garb which the king has worn be brought, and a horse on which the king has ridden . . . and let the attire and the horse be put in the charge of one of the king’s noble courtiers. And let the man whom the king desires to honor be attired and paraded on the horse through the city square” (Esth 6:8–9). Both kings command their servants to place another individual on their special steed; thus, Haman, the servant who hoists Mordecai, is parallel to Nathan, the prophet who places Solomon on his steed! An additional link exists between the two stories, the description of Haman’s arrival at the king’s court: “Now Haman had just entered (‫ )בא‬the outer court of the palace. . . . The king’s servants said to him, ‘Behold (‫)הנה‬, Haman is standing in the court.’. . . Haman entered (‫)ויבא‬, and the king asked him . . .” (Esth 6:4–6). This is reminiscent of Nathan’s entrance into the king’s court: “She was still talking to the king when the prophet Nathan arrived (‫)בא‬. And they told the king (‫)הנה‬, ‘Nathan the prophet is here.’ So he went (‫ )ויבא‬before the king and bowed with his face to the ground” (1 Kgs 1:22–23). Thus, throughout the entire story, both kings (David and Ahasuerus) correspond to each other; Nathan the prophet intermittently parallels Mordecai, encouraging the king’s wife to enter his court and plead for her life, while at other times Nathan corresponds to Haman, the servant who approaches the kings and receives an order to mount the king’s favorite on the royal steed. Moses and Aaron? Before concluding, I must draw the reader’s attention to an interesting suggestion by Loader 47 concerning the exodus narrative as a backdrop to Esther. Gerleman argues that the relationship between Mordecai and Esther reflects the relationship between Moses and Aaron. The image of Esther speaking to the king while Mordecai (who sent her) remains silent evokes 46.  It is interesting to note that both Esther and Bathsheba act according to the demands of the men who stand behind them when they approach the king; however, in reality, both women behave differently from the way the men demanded (Bathsheba expounds on what Nathan instructed her, and Esther, as we have seen, initiates her own plan of action). 47.  J. A. Loader, Esther (De Prediking van het Oude Testament; Nijkerk: Callenbach, 1980) 148–51.

232

Chapter 19

Moses, standing behind Aaron, who speaks in his name. Likewise, “the man” Mordecai, “great in the king’s house” (Esth 9:4), recalls “the man” Moses who was great in Egypt (Exod 11:3). 48 Loader notes, however, that in other aspects Esther parallels Moses (for example, the mortal danger that each faces in approaching the king [Esth 4:11, Exod 10:28, among others]). This confusion leads him to conclude that the identity of the narrative’s hero remains indeterminate between Mordecai and Esther. In my opinion, the allusions are too weak to form a real analogy between the narratives. However, if Gerleman and Loader were correct, this would be another example of a dynamic analogy.

Changeover and Reversal Given the relatively large quantity of dynamic analogies in the Esther narrative, we must consider whether the phenomenon itself helps shape it. In other words, even if every allusion and every background narrative makes an individual contribution to the themes and messages of the story, the very presence of dynamic analogies might itself play a role in shaping the story and the reading experience. In this context, I believe that one can hardly help identifying this phenomenon as yet another manifestation of the motif of reversal, which is so strongly emphasized throughout Esther. This thematic element plays a role in the presentation of the characters, development of the plot, general literary structure of the story, and more. 49 The principle of reversal is also important in this narrative from an ideological perspective: it is possible to prevail over the “lot,” the fate decreed by Haman. 50 However, if the point of the dynamic analogies is simply to underline the reversal that takes place in the story, we would expect to find the change of analogous characters at the critical reversals of the plot. Sometimes the text conforms to our expectations (as in the allusions to the building of Solomon’s Temple and to the Joshua narratives). However, the reassignment of analogues is often not connected to any particular turning point in the plot (as in the cases of Joseph, Daniel, and Jacob and Esau). Instead, it seems that the dynamic analogy is another device employed by the author to convey a sense of capriciousness and instability, so that the reader feels unequipped to assess fully the situations that she reads about and the characters she encounters. During the reading, as she identifies the background narrative to which the author is directing her, she begins constructing a broad base of background material that shapes her 48. In fact, Gerleman also notes some of the connections between Esther and Moses—such as the fact that both were adopted and grew up in the king’s palace (Gerleman, Esther, 11–23). 49. See, for example, Berman, Evolution; Fox, Character, 158–63; above pp.  12–16, 145–146. 50.  As discussed in previous discussions (especially above, pp. 93–97).

Conclusion

233

expectations, developing stage by stage. An exchange of the characters in this literary model of comparison is like an inversion of reality. Thus, the reader finds herself despairing of any consistent parallel and accepting the dynamic analogies. Indeed, this idea finds expression elsewhere in Esther as well. 51 Thus, we wonder whether the narrative is deliberately presenting situations and characters as elements in a reality, the essence of which remains full of confusion and hardly understood. Interpreting the significance of each individual event and its contribution to the overall development of the narrative only comes with broad perspective.

From “Literary Carnivalesque” Genre to “Theological Carnivalesque” Genre Comic Narrative In recent years, an interesting development in scholarly research on the book of Esther has taken place. A growing number of scholars regard the work as a “comic diversion,” the function and intention of which are to entertain the reader. Thus, for example, Ginsberg writes: “For the book of Esther may be described, if one stretches a point or two, as a mock-learned disquisition to be read as the opening of a carnival-like celebration.” 52 Alter offers a similar opinion: Not all Hebrew narrative is a version of the Binding of Isaac, with its stark conjunction of fire, wood, knife, and impending sacrifice, its breathtaking violation of human conception in man’s terrible exposure before God. To be sure, Esther is a late text that gives us Hebrew narrative in a holiday mood, and the holiday mood is rare in the Bible. 53

Adele Berlin formulates the approach as follows: It is a comedy, a book meant to be funny, to provoke laughter. The Book of Esther is the most humorous of the books in the Bible, amusing throughout and at certain points uproariously funny. . . . The comic aspects of the book are not incidental, merely to provide comic relief; they are the essence of the book. They define the genre of the book, and thus set the parameters according to which we should read it. We cannot appreciate the story fully unless we realize that it is meant to be funny. 54 51.  Craig notes some sections in his attempt to read the book of Esther in accordance with Bakhtin’s theory of literary carnival (K. Craig, Reading Esther: A Case for the Literary Carnivalesque [Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1995]). See the discussion immediately below. 52.  H. L. Ginsberg, “Introductions,” in The Five Megilloth and Jonah (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1969) 8. Later, he links this assertion to the omission of God’s name from the book of Esther. Nevertheless, Ginsberg emphasizes: “Must we conclude, then, that our author was a religiously indifferent man? Not at all.” (pp. 83–84). 53. R. Alter, The World of Biblical Literature (New York: Basic Books, 1992) 33. 54. A. Berlin, Esther (jps Bible Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2001) xvii–xviii.

234

Chapter 19

Finally, in the words of Ed Greenstein: So with its uncomplicated plot, black-and-white portrayal of conflict between the evil Haman and the fair Esther and upright Mordecai, and flat, cardboard caricatures of the actors, the story of Esther is a skit, not a drama. 55

Likewise, many interpret the discrepancy between the revealed and concealed dimensions of the story as serving the comic intention: “Desire is located in the gap between the overt and the hidden, more correctly, between the displaced metaphor represented by the plot and the subconscious intention. . . . This subversive structure creates a comic effect.” 56 This approach adds a refreshing new dimension to the reading and exegesis of Esther, liberating the exegete from the painstaking exploration of theological motives and ideological messages usually bound up with biblical narrative, and enabling him or her simply to follow the humorous unfolding of the story. Indeed, entire studies are devoted to clarifying the comic elements of the Esther narrative and tracking the humor and cynicism strewn throughout the plot. 57 However, there are several fundamental problems with this approach. First, no other Hebrew work from ancient times has the sole purpose of entertainment. A heavier burden of proof saddles the scholars who wish to assert that this work is sui generis in the early Jewish/Israelite milieu. Moreover, although humor pervades the narrative, it seems entirely absent from gloomy chap. 4. Lest one suggest that this chapter merely serves to move the plot forward, recall that it actually represents the literary turning point of the book with regard to the development of its characters, especially Esther. The value of the individual’s self-sacrifice for the sake of the general good, which finds clear expression in chap. 4, envelops the reader

55.  E. L. Greenstein, “A Jewish Reading of Esther,” in Judaic Perspectives on Ancient Israel (ed. J. Neusner, B. A. Levine, and E. S. Frerichs; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987) 231. Despite this, Greenstein’s approach is more complicated because, in his opinion, the writing of the book of Esther intended to strengthen the Jewish community in the Diaspora. 56. Y. Shapira, A Postmodernist Reading of the Biblical Book of Esther: From Cultural Dis­ integration to Carnivalesque Text (Ph.D. diss., State University of New York, 1996) 13. 57.  See: F. B. Huey, “Irony as the Key to Understanding the Book of Esther,” SwJT 32 (1989) 36–91; Y. T. Radday, “Esther with Humour,” in On Humour and the Comic in the Hebrew Bible (ed. Y. T. Radday and A. Brenner; Sheffield: Almond, 1990) 295–313; S. Goldman, “Narrative and Ethical Ironies in Esther,” JSOT 47 (1990) 15–31; A. M. Rodriguez, Esther: A Theological Approach (Berrien Springs, MI: Andrews University Press, 1995) 76–80. In a different article (Y. T. Radday, “Humour in Names,” in On Humour and the Comic in the Hebrew Bible [ed. Y. T. Radday and A. Brenner; JSOTSup 92; Sheffield: Almond, 1990] 71), Radday addresses the humor concealed in the personal names in the book of Esther; for instance, he argues that Mehuman arouses, in the mind of the Hebrew reader, the word ‫‘( מהומה‬panic’); Bizzetha suggests ‫‘( ביזה‬plunder’), Harbona ‫‘( חורב‬drought’), Dalphon ‫דליפה‬ (‘leak’), and so on.

Conclusion

235

in a rather “heavy” atmosphere, unbecoming of a work meant solely to entertain. 58 Admittedly, we cannot ignore the strong comic elements of the story. However, we must take care not to confuse the style of writing with the purpose. Even the comic aspects of the book may serve a theological or ideological purpose; the existence of elements of this sort does not in itself prove the purpose of the writing or the significance of the story. Literary Carnival I am more convinced by another, new approach to Esther, which certainly views the book as a “comic diversion” but presents the narrative within the bounds of a specific Sitz im Leben and social context. I refer here to Mikhail Bakhtin’s approach and its application to the reading of Esther. 59 One of the cultural and literary fundamentals that Bakhtin addressed at length was the carnival, which was popular in Europe during the Middle Ages and is still popular in some regions (especially in South America) to this day. Bakhtin views the carnival (or the carnivalesque) genre as a challenge by the masses to the governing establishment and to accepted social conventions. In the words of Knox: “The proper function of comedy was not to advise but to be outrageous. It is the safety-valve of the emotional pressures generated by life in the polis.” 60 The regime (often the Church) would briefly allow the masses to breach boundaries, under the assumption that through these celebrations the masses could release built-up anger and frustration toward the empowered. Bakhtin demonstrates that the carnival was an eruption of ever-present but suppressed popular sentiments: “The men of the Middle Ages participated in two lives: the official and the carnival life. Two aspects of the world, the serious and the laughing aspect, coexisted in their consciousness.” 61 This

carnivalesque sentiment, which frequently included disdain for the established regime, found expression in several “reversals” manifested during public carnival celebrations. Among other “reversals” or “transformations” that Bakhtin enumerates, we may mention the following: 58.  Some have even suggested that the rabbis exaggerated the importance of the book of Esther in their homilies (such as by demanding that it be written on parchment like a Torah scroll, comparing the acceptance of Purim to the acceptance of the Torah at Mt. Sinai, and equating Mordecai with Moses) as a polemic against approaching Esther as pure comedy (I. B. Gottlieb, “‘The Opposite Happened’ (Est. 9:1): Midrash on Megillat Esther,” Studies in Bible and Exegesis 8 [2008] 119–37). 59.  Several attempts of this sort have been made. I shall base my words here primarily on the comprehensive studies by Shapira (Postmodernist) and Craig (Reading Esther), which are devoted to the idea of reading Esther against the backdrop of Bakhtin’s basic assumptions. 60.  B. M. W. Knox, “Athenian Religion and Literature,” in CAH (2nd ed.) 5.286, quoted by Berlin, Esther, xxii. 61. M. Bakhtin, Rabelais and His World (trans. Hélène Iswolsky; Cambridge: MIT Press, 1968) 96.

236

Chapter 19

1. The marginal becomes central. Bakhtin emphasizes the special focus on bodily pleasures, especially the emphasis on eating and drinking, concerning which he writes (in reference to a novella by Rabelais): “Almost all the themes of the novel come about through it; hardly an episode could manage without it. The most varied objects and phenomena of the world are brought into direct contact with food and drink—including the most lofty and spiritual things.” 62

2. The lowly becomes elevated. The lower strata are spotlighted on the stage; the slave is crowned king. At the same time, the mighty fall, and figures of political or religious authority become the target of derision and parody. 3. The internal and concealed become external and public. As part of this trend, the celebrations are held in the marketplace, in the town square: “The marketplace becomes . . . the center of all that is unofficial. It is the place opposed to all official order and official ideology.” 63

4. The weak grow strong, while the strong grow weak. For example, in various carnivals it was customary in the town square to burn effigies of demons, which were generally feared by the masses. The same motifs manifest themselves in a surprising and interesting way in Esther. In fact, other motifs are expressed as well. Yona Shapira prefaces her study with the statement: “I aim to demonstrate that the carnivalesque style of Esther is based on a set of linguistic splits of gaze, of voice, of world view, of narrative, and of performance.” 64 Shapira’s broad claim notwithstanding, the connection between the story of Esther and the carnivalesque perception presented by Bakhtin gains prominence especially in the motifs listed above. The marginal becomes central.  The narrative pays special attention to the body and to parties. Virginal candidates prepare for their “audition” with the king by soaking in perfumes and oils for a full year (2:12)! Likewise, the narrative’s ten (!) feasts form its spine: a drinking party accompanies every major plot twist or dramatic development. 65 The lowly becomes elevated.  Esther is transformed from an exiled Jewess into a queen in an early example of the turnabouts that characterize the narrative. However, the role of the king’s courtiers perhaps provides the most emphatic example of this motif. These servants serve as major shapers of the plot by making a number of important decisions on the king’s behalf: 66 how to respond to Vashti, how to find a new queen, and what to do with Haman (in addition to the carte blanche given to Haman 62. M. Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination (trans. C. Emerson and M. T. Holquist; Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981) 178. 63.  Craig, Reading Esther, 69. 64.  Shapira, Postmodernist, 2. 65.  See above, p.  197 Concerning the feasts in the book of Esther as representing a carnivalesque atmosphere, see Craig, Reading, 62–68. 66.  See above, pp. 51–55.

Conclusion

237

and the Mordecai). The subverted scorn for Ahasuerus and his regime that is sensed throughout the narrative forms a counterpart to the elevation of the lowly. 67 The private becomes public.  Throughout the narrative, there is a constant tension between the secret and open intentions of the characters. 68 The statement “Mordecai learned all that had happened” (4:1), connoting his knowledge of an ostensibly secret conversation between Haman and the king, represents the first step in undermining Haman’s plan. Through the transforming of the secret plan to public knowledge, the entire plan falls apart. Public spaces play a role in the plot at its two turning points: the internal transformation of the characters in chap. 4, when Mordecai remains in the city square (‫ )רחוב העיר‬in sackcloth and ashes, throughout the scene (in which the Jews everywhere mourned publicly), and in the turning point of chap. 6, where Haman leads Mordecai on horseback through the same city square. 69 The Jews’ victory parties in chap. 9, the counterpart to the mourning of chap. 4, may also be viewed as public, popular celebrations. The strong grow weak, while the weak grow strong.  This is unquestionably one of the central themes in the book of Esther. Haman’s fall corresponds to Mordecai’s rise, and “the opposite happened, and the Jews got their enemies in their power” (9:1). As we recall, the entire narrative structure hinges on reversal, conforming to Bakhtin’s carnivalesque themes. 70 Shapira and Craig conclude that the book of Esther should be viewed as a narrative meant to accompany the festivities on Purim—a festival that is clearly carnivalesque in nature. As such, it is suffused with carnivalesque motifs: Both Rabelais and the author of the Esther narrative responded to official culture and dogma with carnivalized language, themes, and images. In the ancient Hebrew story—replete with clownish coronations and demotions, an official and non-official culture, lavish banquets, and the persistent fool—we witness a transposition of carnival into the language of literature. 71

We must admit that this approach indeed explains many of the narrative’s motifs and represents an interesting view of the central themes of 67. David Henshke elaborates on this aspect of the story (“Esther: A Literary Costume,” in Hadassa Hi Esther [ed. A. Bazak; Alon-Shvut: Tevunot, 1997] 93–106). See also I. Rosenson, Massekhet Megilloth (2nd ed.; Jerusalem: Efrata, 2002) 184–85 [Heb.]. 68.  See below, in my discussion of secret writing. 69.  On the role of the city square in Esther in the context of the carnivalesque narrative, see Craig, Reading Esther, 70–79. 70.  However, to my mind, neither Mordecai nor the Jews represented the classic literary “underdog.” Mordecai occupied a position at the king’s gate from the very beginning of the story, which was undermined only in the wake of his refusal to bow down to Haman. 71.  Craig, Reading Esther, 168.

238

Chapter 19

the narrative and its development. Most of all, this approach—unlike some others—is profoundly aware of the disdainful tone of the narrative, the comic elements concealed in it, and the readers’ sense that Esther, unlike other biblical works, invites us to laugh. 72 Once again, however, we must take care not to confuse the form of the writing with its purpose. Identifying its generic form does not absolve us from clarifying its role. Even if reading Esther in light of Bakhtin’s basic assumptions enriches the experience and contributes to our understanding of it, Craig’s conclusion that the author conceived of his work as a literary license for the carnivalesque celebration erupting in the streets is unwarranted. In fact, the narrative does not explicitly legislate, respond to, or even seem aware of the familiar norms of the Purim celebration. Many familiar carnivalesque themes of Purim—dressing in costumes, for example 73— postdate the composition of Esther by well over a millennium. 74 Purim remained relatively insignificant and localized for centuries after its inception. In 1 Maccabees (written approximately 100 b.c.e.), the 13th of Adar is mentioned as the “Day of Nikanor” (1 Macc 7:48–49), and Purim is not mentioned at all. 75 Contra the prevalent academic view, it seems more likely that the connection between the carnivalesque elements of the narrative and the festival was a development, with the festival gradually taking shape around the comic, antiestablishment elements of the narrative. 76 Rather than discussing Esther as “literary carnivalesque,” we will find it more fruitful to characterize and analyze it as what may be termed “theological carnivalesque.” The narrative’s comic elements, realized to a large 72. At the same time, it must be emphasized that the actual definition of a certain scene as ironic or comic is somewhat unclear. I identify with the criticism raised by Rodriguez: “When broad definitions of irony are used, scholars tend to find it in almost every scene of the story” (Rodriguez, Esther, 76). 73.  Craig is aware of this deficiency and seeks to identify the motif of dressing up in the concealment of the motives of the main characters in the story, as though they were acting in disguise, under a mask (Craig, Reading, 111–19). However, even if Craig is correct that there are indeed elements of concealment and of costuming (see below, in the discussion on concealment in the story), the author gives no hint of the popular Jewish custom of dressing up with masks. Just as the narrator commented on the custom of partying, he could certainly have added other customs if they had been prevalent at the time. 74.  Greenstein, Jewish Reading, 231. 75.  Ben Sira (ca. 180 b.c.e.) similarly omits Mordecai and Esther from his list of great Israelite leaders before the Hellenistic Era. 2 Maccabees (ca. 40 b.c.e.) mentions “the Day of Mordecai” but only as a correlation for the Day of Nikanor (2 Macc 15:36). Concerning this reference, see: S. R. Driver, An Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament (Cleveland: World Publishing, 1956) 481; B. Bar-Kochva, “On the Festival of Purim and Some of the Succot Practices in the Period of the Second Temple and Afterwords,” Tzion 62 (1997) 387–89 (in n. 7, he assumes that the Purim Festival was familiar to the readers of 2 Maccabees); D. R. Schwartz, The Second Book of Maccabees: Introduction, Hebrew Translation, and Commentary ( Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, 2004) 285. 76. In fact, even the Mishnah documents no carnival customs. Thus, it seems very unlikely that any carnivalesque elements predated the narrative.

Conclusion

239

extent through the popular carnivalesque Purim celebrations, hint at a fundamental undermining of the norms of human rule and conventions of social interaction. In this sense, Esther’s anarchism does not seek to destabilize society’s foundations for its own sake but as a psychological and theological argument: human beings can never decode the full significance of the reality around them, the political decisions, behavior of the masses, or even their own actions. Even the individuals in power remain ignorant of events. The motif of reversal, which is so prevalent in carnival celebrations, in Esther is evidence of the instability of life in general, of the temporariness of roles, and the tenuousness of one’s situation. Esther’s special style of writing—secret writing—highlights this motif of undermining the human construction of reality. Secret Writing in the Book of Esther Throughout this book, we have seen how at various junctures Esther conveys mixed messages: one is a surface message, but another, often conflicting message lies beneath the surface. As Rosenson aptly comments at the beginning of his study of Esther: What is revealed in the story of Esther? The list is endless. Even after a superficial examination, one must agree that what is revealed is revealed completely. The parts of the story of Esther that are open are totally open. In its revelations, the story is magnanimous; the picture that is portrayed on the revealed level is unequivocally clear. So too the opposite: when it comes to concealment, the book of Esther positions a thick, almost impenetrable screen in front of the reader, to such an extent that there are very few who are able to discover what is concealed behind it. 77

The “concealment” of the story also finds expression in the actions of the characters and in the development of the plot. Haman did not reveal his true intentions or identify the target of his edict to the king. Thus, Haman operated behind a mask, while the king operated without full knowledge of the reality around him. Additionally, Esther hid her Jewish identity, a fact that ultimately plays an important role in the plot development. From this perspective, as noted by Craig, the scene of Esther’s second party marked the moment when all masks were removed; Esther revealed her Jewish identity and Haman’s identity as her people’s conniving enemy and a plotter against the loyal Mordecai. 78 Note, however, that even this scene did not reveal all secrets, and it actually introduced new ones: the king insinuated Haman’s rebellion (and attempt to “conquer” the queen) and sentenced him to hang yet remained ignorant of the feud between Haman and Mordecai that sparked the conflict in the first place. Thus, he continued to act out of the same general fog that had surrounded him up to this point. 77.  Rosenson, Megillot, 183 [Heb.]. 78.  Craig, Reading Esther, 111–19.

240

Chapter 19

The discrepancy between stated and secret motivations on the part of the characters reflects back on the narrator, who tells his story through concealment and creates a separation between his open and his concealed messages. The hidden readings differ from but also negate the surface meanings, rendering irreconcilable the two versions of the story that occupy the same textual space. Though I have noted this phenomenon throughout this book, I shall recapitulate and categorize some of its main subjects.

Attitude toward the Monarchy We have already extensively discussed the outer portrayal of the king as the main protagonist as being an ironic strategy to highlight his impotent, indecisive, “antihero” status. 79 He may wield authority—as symbolized by his twice-delegated signet ring—but he remains powerless. This view of the monarchy tempers the typological similarity noted by scholars between certain motifs of the Esther narrative and folk tales such as Cinderella. 80 Greenstein, for example, argues that “Esther shares with folk tales these common features: the heroine, poor Esther, is an orphan; she is elevated to royalty, like Cinderella; the king offers this beloved queen up to half his kingdom; the display of his wealth is calculated to impress.” 81 These similarities, however, only serve to highlight the contrasts between the two narratives. Cinderella’s marriage to the royal prince concludes her story, as though becoming queen already embodies everything the poor orphan girl could hope for. Esther’s marriage to King Ahasuerus, on the other hand, represents only the starting point of her story. The orphan girl’s rise to majesty does not itself constitute a “happy ending” for Esther but an opportunity to save others.

Attitude toward Women The narrative begins with Vashti’s refusal to come to King Ahasuerus, an act interpreted by the chamberlains as having serious ramifications, and leading to the king’s first decree, that “every man should wield authority in his home” (1:22). The plain message, then, is that a man should dominate his wife. Indeed, some scholars have crystallized this as the book’s message:

79. Above pp. 35–37. See also: Henshke, “Esther: A Literary Costume”; M. V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001) 171–77; S. Talmon, “Wisdom in the Book of Esther,” VT 13 (1963) 450–51; Greenstein, Jewish Reading, 230–31. 80. S. Niditch, Underdogs and Tricksters: A Prelude to Biblical Folklore (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987) 132–40; S. Niditch, “Esther: Folklore, Wisdom, Feminism and Authority,” in A Feminist Companion to Esther, Judith and Susanna (ed. A. Brenner; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995) 26–27. 81.  Greenstein, Jewish Reading, 228.

Conclusion

241

“Between the lines it transmits a code, a norm of behavior for women. This code and norm is delivered completely from a male point of view.” 82 However, as we have seen, a clearly cynical and humorous atmosphere surrounds this act of legislation. The cynicism continues into the following chapter, where the narrator subtly compares the king’s attitude toward the auditioning virgins to the stock-piling of food in anticipation of a famine in Pharaoh’s Egypt and with the dressing of Jacob’s corpse by Egyptian physicians. Aside from the veiled criticism of the view of women as objects or bodies, the entire plot advances by means of reversing this very law about husbands dominating wives. The king ultimately does Esther’s bidding, even without fully understanding why. Haman also acts in accordance with his wife’s advice when erecting the gallows. Thus, the opening decree gives a pretense of misogyny, which is countered by a subtext that greatly empowers its female characters. As we saw previously, women are compared with Jews; both of these two minorities, by the end of the story, achieve their deserved redemption.

Attitude toward Honor As Laniak has demonstrated at length, the motif of honor plays a major literary role throughout the narrative. 83 Honor drives the plot as the characters chase after it—or, more specifically, as they win the honored favor of the king. We have seen, however, that the narrator scorns this type of honor, even associating the highest honor bestowed in the narrative, Mordecai on horseback in the streets of Shushan, with the shameful ceremony for opting out of a levirate marriage, assuring the reader that the great honor bestowed on Mordecai is akin to spitting in his face. 84 As part of the motif of honor, the verb “to see” gains special prominence throughout the story. Shapira sums up the significance of the repeated use of this verb throughout: “It seems that nothing is really happening unless someone sees it, or, more correctly, seeing means happening.” 85 In other words, the author of Esther insinuates that the supremacy of honor demeans the significance of actions. Society’s perception trumps real 82. K. De Troyer, “An Oriental Beauty Parlour: An Analysis of Esther 2.8–18 in the Hebrew, the Septuagint and the Second Greek Text,” in A Feminist Companion to Esther, Judith and Susanna (ed. A. Brenner; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995) 55. De Troyer refers here to the process of selecting Esther in chap. 2. To my mind, this chapter is meant to be read with cynicism and scorn for the king’s attitude toward women; the chapter does not reflect the author’s own view. On the contrary, in this chapter his discomfort arising from the accepted view of women, as presented in the story, is especially manifest (see above, pp. 57–62). 83.  Laniak, Shame; L. R. Klein, “Honor and Shame in Esther,” in A Feminist Companion to Esther, Judith and Susanna (ed. A. Brenner; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995) 149–75. 84.  See above, pp. 147–148. 85.  Shapira, Postmodernist, 118.

242

Chapter 19

character and value. Once again, the outer portrait finds its answer in the hidden, inner level.

Attitude toward Exile Many scholars believe that one of the messages of Esther is that a Jew in exile may have “dual loyalties.” 86 Bush, for example, provides the following explanation for the narrator’s reference to the “Annals of the Kings of Media and Persia”: “By so doing, he implies that the stature of Mordecai as the head of the Jewish community is commensurate with that of the royal rulers of Israel’s distant past, the period of the monarchy.” 87 Indeed, the conclusion of the narrative seems to imply exactly this: the king liked his new second-in-command, and Mordecai’s people equally appreciated his concern for their welfare. In this context, as some scholars have noted, the book of Esther joins the Joseph narratives as optimistic portraits of Jews in exile. However, this conceptual linkage only holds true for the surface meaning of Esther. Close attention to the hidden level reveals the narrator’s criticism of the Jews of Shushan for remaining in Persia and not returning to their own country. In fact, on the subsurface level, the Esther narrative negates exile and points to its dangers for Jewish survival, primarily the possibility of genocidal legislation resulting from one man’s vendetta and royal apathy. Despite the ultimately happy ending, it seems unlikely that the story advocates coming to terms with Jewish existence in exile. In fact, the narrator takes a concealed negative view of exile throughout the narrative: the opening banquet subtly alludes to the Temple and generates literary tension; Haman’s rise to power corresponds to Jehoiachin’s rise to prominence in the Babylonian Exile; the institution of the Purim celebration met resistance from non-Shushanite Jews; and the conclusion of the story, which indeed recalls the Kingdom of Israel, is presented, not in order to compare Mordecai with the kings of Israel, as Bush suggests, but to add a note of irony to Mordecai’s prominence. After all, the secondin-command remained at the mercy of the king’s whim (as Haman discovered), with no guarantee of any special success or security. Here the analogy to Joseph comes full circle. For all of Joseph’s success in exile, life in Egypt ultimately degenerated into enslavement. The Jews of Shushan had no guarantees that they would escape the same fate.

86.  W. L. Humphreys, “A Life-Style for Diaspora: A Study of the Tales of Esther and Daniel,” JBL 92 (1973) 216; B. W. Jones, “The So-Called Appendix to the Book of Esther,” Semitics 6 (1978) 36–43; Berg, Esther, 178–79; D. J. A. Clines, The Esther Scroll: The Story of the Story ( JSOTSup 30; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 168; Goldman, Ironies, 26. 87. F. Bush, Ruth, Esther (WBC; Dallas: Word, 1998) 496. See also Levenson, Esther, 14–16.

Conclusion

243

Attitude toward Fate At first glance, the lot (in Hebrew, ‫–פור‬pur) cast by Haman does not appear to be an important motif in the story. Indeed, some have suggested that the similarity of the word is all that connects Haman’s lot to the name of the festival: It seems likely, as Levenson and others have suggested, that the holiday and its name originated independently from the book, and that the book is the vehicle through which the holiday was reinterpreted so as to invest it with Jewish significance. It is here that the name of the holiday is linked with the story of its origin, through the type of false etiology that is so common in the Bible. 88

However, it is also possible that this is the narrator’s way of showing scorn for the lot cast by Haman. The fate predicted by the lot failed to come to fruition. Even the advice offered Haman by his confidants had mixed success: they were right about Haman’s downfall (6:13) but helped dig their sponsor’s grave when recommending that he set up a gallows. From the perspective of our discussion, it seems that the narrator awards a certain degree of respect to fate and the deterministic world view characteristic of the Persian Empire. Nevertheless, the reversal of the plot explicitly (no veiled allusions here) demonstrates the instability of fate. The pur, after which the celebration is named, can be overturned and rendered powerless.

Attitude toward God Among all the concealments in the story, the concealment of God stands out as most prominent and influential, and it is the subject of the most discussion. As I noted in the introduction, this phenomenon cannot be coincidental. The narrator refrains from mentioning God even in scenes that embody religious norms (such as fasting and crying out in prayer). 89 Consequently, some have argued that the Esther narrative presents a “secular” viewpoint, according to which humans are responsible for their own actions and salvation, in contradistinction to standard biblical ideol­ogy. 90 This anachronistic reading falls into the trap set by the narrator. Fox (among others) notes correctly that “Esther, like the other biblical narratives, teaches divine causality: the religious idea of the story is that even in the non-divine sphere God is secretly at work, even if his name is

88.  Berlin, Esther, 90–91. See also Moore, Esther, xlix. 89.  M. V. Fox, “The Structure of the Book of Esther,” in Isaac Leo Seeligmann Volume: Essays on the Bible and the Ancient World (ed. A. Rofé and Y. Zakovitch; Jerusalem: Rubinstein, 1983) 3.298. 90.  R. N. Pfeiffer, Introduction to the OT (New York: Harper, 1948) 742–43.

244

Chapter 19

not mentioned.” 91 It is difficult, in this context, to speak of a true bifurcation between the surface and hidden levels of the narrative. Outwardly, the action of the characters—for example, Esther’s intrusion on the king and Mordecai’s report about the conspiracy of Bigthan and Teresh—indeed propel the plot. Nevertheless, “coincidence” holds a special place in the narrative. This is especially striking in chap. 6: the king happens to suffer from insomnia and happens to be reminded of his debt to Mordecai on precisely the night that Haman is preparing to execute Mordecai. We may reasonably infer that, within the biblical context, Divine providence, not luck, controls these events. A similar phenomenon appears in the description of Ruth’s arrival in Boaz’s field: “As luck would have it, it was the piece of land belonging to Boaz” (Ruth 2:3). The implied audience knows that luck had nothing to do with Ruth’s arrival in Boaz’s field. 92 The true meaning of the words opposes their literal meaning: Surprising as it may seem at first glance, the author’s real meaning in 2:3b is actually the opposite of what he says. . . . For Ruth and Boaz it was an accident, but not for God. . . . By calling this meeting an accident, the writer enables himself subtly to point out that even the “accidental” is directed by God. 93

The author of Esther employs a similar literary technique. The characters may understand the events on that night as coincidence, but God and the audience do not. God’s concealment in the book of Esther implies an ideology in which decisions made by characters complement but do not imply the exclusion of God’s providence.

The Uniqueness of the Book of Esther Secret writing entails risk; many readers are bound to fall into the trap and be led astray by the plain message. Biblical composition is, for the most part, “foolproof,” meaning that it is: difficult to read, easy to underread and overread and even misread, but virtually impossible to, so to speak, counterread. . . .The informational gaps—suggesting a bifocal or multiple view of character and motive and event, and announcing the birth of ambiguous narration—need not de91.  Fox, Structure, 298 (this argument rests on the words of Y. Kaufmann, History of the Israelite Faith [Tel Aviv: Bialik, 1960] 4.445ff.). 92.  E. E. Campbell Jr., Ruth (AB; New York: Doubleday, 1975) 112. 93.  R. M. Hals, The Theology of the Book of Ruth (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1969) 11–12. Similarly, wrote Murray D. Gow: “The expression ‫ ויקר מקרה‬. . . is our author’s subtle way of hinting at the activity of divine providence in this seemingly chance occurrence” (The Book of Ruth: Its Structure, Theme and Purpose [Leicester: Apollos, 1992] 48). For a different approach, see J. M. Sasson, Ruth: A New Translation with a Philological Commentary and a Formalist-Folklorist Interpretation (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1979) 44–45.

Conclusion

245

tain those who run as they read. The tale will appear coherent even, or often most of all, to those who unwittingly escape the horns of ambiguity, imposing univocal closures on troublesome omissions and overlooking the rest. 94

In this sense, Esther stands out as unique among the biblical books in that its composition is not foolproof. The reader who fails to sense the hidden level of the story will miss its main messages and morals. Humphreys correctly notes that the Esther narrative places great faith in its readers. In commenting on the horseback scene, he writes: In one sentence, one verse of the text, the fall of Haman is brought about. Yet, all the details are now left to the reader’s imagination. Only an author with a sure hand and confidence in his reader would allow this climax in the bitter relationship between his two protagonists to pass with so few words and leave so much to the audience. A skilled author knows when not to say too much. 95

Given the prominence of hidden writing in Esther, we must pay attention to its contribution to the overall literary composition and message. Besides some issue or another that is addressed on both the plain and the concealed levels, the medium of concealed writing itself conveys a message. Out of several candidates for the purpose of concealed writing mentioned in the introduction, one purpose is to conceal simply for the sake of concealment—to destabilize the reader’s sense that he fully understands what is going on. In other words, from the point of view of the narrator, the significance of the events appears one way openly, but in another layer, it mostly remains hidden from the beholder. The full significance of the selection of Esther as queen is not manifested at the time of her selection; it only becomes clear some time later. The full significance of Mordecai’s decision to report Bigthan and Teresh is not apparent (even to Mordecai himself) at the time of the event but unfolds through the intricate plot. Moreover, in this context we may view the book of Esther as an anarchistic narrative. The regime and societal norms appear, outwardly, to be in order. The process of legislation and Persia’s famed communication system appear in the story. In truth, however, law and order appear in an ironic light, both in terms of the motivation for their establishment and in terms of their ultimate insignificance. 96 The Esther narrative describes an absolute lack of order, a world where everything, even the narrator’s own words 94. M. Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985) 50, 53–54. 95.  W. Lee Humphreys, “The Story of Esther and Mordecai: An Early Jewish Novella,” in Saga, Legend, Tale, Novella, Fable (ed. G. W. Coats; JSOTSup 35; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1985) 103. 96.  Rosenson, Megillot, 184–85.

246

Chapter 19

are topsy-turvy. This goes beyond mere sociopolitical anarchy, characterized by disdain for the regime as such, and reflects an existential anarchy in which life is capricious by nature and nothing—not political position, not honor, not even fatalistic lot-casting—is truly stable. It all remains subject to the dual agencies that operate through the plot, one revealed and one hidden: the free action of the human characters and Divine providence.

Index of Authors Abramsky, S.  7 Agnon, S. Y.  8 Aḥituv, R.  47 Alter, R.  179, 233 Amit, Y.  4, 72, 108, 212 Anderson, B. W.  10, 190, 192, 220 Ararat, N.  13 Assis, E.  226 Avishur, Y.  211 Bakhtin, M.  233, 235, 236, 237, 238 Bardtke, H.  32, 48, 58, 72, 76, 86, 94, 99, 127, 194 Bar Efrat, S.  69 Bar-Kochva, B.  238 Barry, P.  2 Barthes, R.  2 Baumgarten, J. M.  136 Bazak, A.  61, 230 Beal, T. K.  30, 48, 55, 81, 93, 96, 113, 124, 151, 160, 166, 168, 172, 194, 195, 221, 229 Becking, B.  84 Ben-Shammai, H.  77 Ben-Yehuda, E.  66 Bergey, R. L.  219 Berg, H. de  2 Berg, S. B.  13, 26, 32, 41, 44, 56, 79, 90, 100, 113, 119, 122, 125, 145, 210, 221, 222, 223, 242 Berlin, A.  10, 17, 34, 39, 45, 47, 52, 72, 74, 94, 99, 101, 103, 106, 107, 110, 126, 134, 160, 162, 164, 168, 172, 173, 175, 178, 182, 183, 190, 191, 194, 197, 198, 199, 206, 220, 223, 233, 235, 243 Berman, Y. A.  204, 232 Bertheau, E.  46 Bickerman, E.  32, 47, 78, 83, 88, 144, 160 Bin-Nun, Y.  22 Blau, J.  149 Blenkinsopp, J.  136 Bonart, O.  192

Booth, W. C.  7, 8 Botha, P. J.  16 Breuer, M.  144, 145 Breuer, R.  117 Brockington, L. H.  38, 89, 104 Bruce, F. F.  189 Bunsen, C. K. J.  189 Bush, F. W.  38, 48, 49, 60, 62, 72, 74, 76, 89, 98, 99, 102, 104, 106, 163, 164, 174, 182, 185, 194, 214, 242 Butting, K.  211, 222 Cahn, Y. T.  211, 222 Campbell, E. F., Jr.  18, 244 Cassuto, U.  164 Cazelles, H.  32 Chandler, L. B.  48 Clements, R. E.  84 Clines, D. J. A.  34, 38, 41, 48, 54, 99, 103, 104, 125, 127, 129, 165, 172, 174, 176, 182, 183, 186, 191, 192, 194, 198, 214, 226, 227, 242 Cohen, A. D.  95, 182, 196 Cohen, G. D.  3 Cohen, G. H.  36, 90, 189, 197, 209, 210, 212, 222 Cohen, M. E.  95 Collins, N. L.  124 Condamin, A.  164, 165 Contenau, G.  95, 96, 97 Cornill, C. H.  10 Craig, K.  100, 233, 235, 236, 237, 238, 239 Cross, F. M.  6, 191 Cuddon, J. A.  2 Daim-Goldbar, A.  31 Daube, D.  208, 209 Day, L. M.  31, 32, 114, 115, 117, 220, 229 De Troyer, K.  241 Dickson, C. R.  16 Dommershausen, W.  28, 39, 43, 50, 102, 127, 186, 194, 198

247

248

Index of Authors

Doniach, N. S.  17 Dorsey, D. A.  13, 171 Driver, G. R.  43, 130, 201, 215 Driver, S. R.  146, 189, 238 Durham, J. I.  5 Eco, U.  2 Edelman, D. V.  72 Ehrlich, A. B.  58, 102, 185, 208 Eissfeldt, O.  17, 194 Elazar the Modai, Rabbi  127, 129 Eliezer, Rabbi  127 Ellicott, C. J.  135 Even, Y.  27, 36 Feintuch, Y.  224 Felman, S.  2 Fennelly, J. M.  95 Fewell, D. N.  8 Fish, S.  2 Fokkelman, J. P.  8 Fox, M. V.  10, 11, 13, 14, 26, 30, 32, 38, 41, 46, 48, 53, 54, 72, 74, 76, 77, 86, 90, 97, 98, 100, 102, 103, 104, 106, 110, 116, 117, 120, 125, 127, 128, 129, 140, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 154, 161, 163, 164, 165, 173, 174, 178, 182, 183, 186, 190, 191, 193, 194, 197, 199, 202, 204, 206, 209, 221, 232, 240, 243, 244 Freedman, D. N.  5 Frisch, A.  58, 84, 229, 230 Fuerst, W. J.  106 Gan, M.  210 Garsiel, M.  35, 115 Gaster, T. H.  51, 54, 94, 95 Gehman, H. S.  115, 169 Genette, G.  69 Gerleman, G.  48, 72, 94, 102, 124, 165, 176, 187, 195, 213, 227, 231, 232 Gillingham, S. E.  6 Ginsberg, H. L.  10, 190, 233 Goitein, S. D.  16, 47, 192, 197 Goldman, S.  11, 12, 54, 153, 162, 185, 192, 234, 242 Goodman, P.  17 Gordis, R.  52, 53, 76, 163, 182, 189, 190, 203, 214

Gottlieb, I. B.  235 Gow, M. D.  244 Greenstein, E. L.  17, 42, 65, 234, 238, 240 Grossman, J.  6, 7, 8, 24, 25, 26, 32, 35, 84, 94, 95, 100, 109, 112, 132, 133, 197, 205, 212, 218, 219 Grove, E.  76 Gunkel, H.  129, 206 Gunn, D. M.  8 Gunneweg, A. H. J.  185 Haglund, E.  187 Hakham, A.  48, 49, 50, 56, 82, 90, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 119, 127, 131, 158, 162, 165, 168, 179 HaKohen, S.  223 Haller, M.  189 Hallo, W. W.  96 Hals, R. M.  244 Haltzer, M.  19 Hamilton, W.  189 Harman, A.  175 Haupt, P.  44, 52, 66, 94, 99, 100, 110, 114, 117, 157, 162, 184, 189, 193, 213, 216, 217 Hävernick, H. A. C.  189 Healey, J. P.  185 Heltzer, M.  19, 82 Henshke, D.  36, 60, 147, 178, 237, 240 Herman, D.  196, 200 Herrmann, W.  189 Ho, C. Y. S.  218 Holland, N. N.  2 Horowitz, E.  190 Hoschander, J.  19, 189 Huey, F. B.  9, 234 Humphreys, W. L.  90, 96, 214, 215, 242, 245 Hurvitz, A.  44 Ibn Ezra  73, 74, 102, 128, 129, 165, 166, 203, 205, 103 Japhet, S.  20 Jensen, P.  75 Jones, B. W.  31, 41, 194, 242 Joshua, Rabbi  127 Joshua ben Koreha, Rabbi  127 Judah, Rabbi  127

Index of Authors Kaddari, M. Z.  66, 149, 159, 163, 185 Kaufmann, Y.  17, 96, 154, 191, 212, 244 Kawin, B. F.  179 Keel, Y.  223 Keil, C. F.  46 Kimelman, R.  3 Klein, J.  95 Klein, L. R.  30, 228, 241 Klein, Y.  96, 181, 182 Knox, B. M. W.  235 Kugel, J. L.  17, 131 Kuhl, C.  194 Lacocque, A.  72 Laniak, T. S.  24, 32, 40, 43, 74, 81, 90, 91, 114, 139, 145, 147, 152, 159, 185, 225, 228, 241 Levenson, J. D.  13, 31, 39, 59, 74, 75, 81, 83, 88, 91, 94, 100, 101, 103, 106, 109, 110, 113, 114, 118, 143, 152, 160, 214, 220, 222, 242, 243 Levine, B. A.  95 Lewy, J.  75 Lindblom, J.  97 Linssen, M. J. H.  95 Liver, J.  72 Loader, J. A.  187, 231, 232 Loew, Yehudah, Rabbi  182 Loewenstamm, S. E.  202 Lubitch, R.  113 Magonet, J.  130, 219 Maimonides 1 Malbim  100, 135 Malul, M.  67 Margaliot, M.  96, 154 Margalith, O.  185 Matthews, V. H.  112 Mattingly, G. L.  83 May, W. H.  64 McKane, W.  56, 83, 191, 219, 226 Medan, Y.  89, 137 Meinhold, A.  11, 32, 39, 97, 102, 119, 146, 189, 210, 212, 227 Meir, Rabbi  35, 66, 67, 127 Meyers, C.  105, 116 Milgrom, J.  95, 150 Millard, A. R.  82 Miron, M. S.  64

249

Moore, C. A.  13, 17, 19, 28, 39, 40, 45, 52, 61, 66, 72, 74, 76, 81, 82, 83, 89, 94, 98, 102, 104, 106, 113, 114, 117, 119, 126, 127, 130, 133, 141, 144, 145, 153, 158, 163, 165, 172, 175, 185, 189, 190, 192, 193, 195, 198, 202, 219, 220, 243 Müller, H. P.  153 Murphy, R.  162 Murray, D. F.  84 Myers, J. M.  84, 150 Nachmanides 1 Nehemia, Rabbi  127 Niditch, S.  191, 211, 240 Niehoff, M.  196 Niemann, H. M.  206 Nissim, E.  39 Noble, P. R.  218, 226 Olmstead, A. T.  18, 22, 38, 48, 95 Osgood, C. E.  64 Paton, L. B.  13, 19, 22, 38, 47, 52, 61, 72, 74, 88, 93, 94, 118, 127, 135, 141, 142, 148, 153, 156, 165, 181, 188, 189, 192, 193, 198, 201, 202, 216, 220, 225 Perles, F.  164 Perry, M.  1, 8 Pfeiffer, R. N.  189, 243 Philo 196 Plautz, W.  66 Polak, F.  28, 69, 179 Propp, W. H. C.  5 Prouser, O.  112 Rad, G. von  191 Radday, Y. T.  9, 13, 234 Rashbam  25, 82 Rashi  53, 73, 88, 118, 129, 130, 131, 198, 216 Rendsburg, G.  112, 218 Riffaterre, M.  2 Rimmon-Kenan, S.  69 Ringgren, H.  32, 95 Rodriguez, A. M.  227, 234, 238 Rosenheim, J.  229 Rosenson, I.  26, 35, 109, 121, 125, 129, 237, 239, 245

250

Index of Authors

Rosenthal, L. A.  176, 210 Rothschild, F. A.  114 Roux, G.  18 Sabato, M.  145 Sage, L.  27 Sasson, J. M.  244 Savran, G. W.  179 Schmid, H. H.  66 Schwartz, D. R.  238 Sedgwick, G. G.  105 Seebass, H.  66 Seeligmann, I. L.  212 Segal, M. Z.  214 Shama, A.  73 Shapira, Y.  18, 42, 65, 112, 137, 220, 221, 222, 226, 234, 235, 236, 237, 241 Shea, W. H.  19 Shemesh, Y.  91 Siebert-Hommes, J. C.  131 Simon, M. D.  9 Simon, U.  1, 28, 109 Sparks, K. L.  95 Stanton, E. C.  48 Sternberg, M.  1, 8, 47, 62, 69, 156, 179, 245 Stiehl, R.  19, 82 Striedl, H.  43, 102 Tabory, J.  194 Tadmor, H.  96 Talmon, S.  146, 240 Tate, W. R.  2

Torrey, C. C.  163 Tzipor, M.  96, 181, 182 Uffenheimer, B.  109 Urbach, E. E.  3 Urquhart, J.  189 Van Dam, C.  97 Walfish, A.  73, 74, 152 Walfish, B. D.  66 Walfish, R.  46, 161, 162 Weinberg, J.  20 Weinfeld, M.  136, 153 Weiser, A.  103 Weisman, Z.  31 Weiss, M.  223 Woloch, A.  27 Wright, D. P.  95 Wright, J. S.  72 Yadin, Y.  136 Yahuda, A. S.  75 Yamauchi, E. M.  19, 72 Yehoshua ben Gamla, Rabbi  130 Yehuda, Rabbi  136 Yizhar, S.  1 Yossi, Rabbi  127 Yossi bar Hanina, Rabbi  22 Zakovitch, Y.  9, 107, 108, 109, 221, 223 Zalevsky, S.  58 Zimmern, H.  95

Index of Scripture Genesis 3:11 82 8:21 220 10–11 183 12  67, 68 13:3 67 14:1  18, 38 17:17 220 18:2 88 19:11 44 19:37–38 176 22:1 82 23 209 23:1 39 23:7 88 23:12 88 24:49 205 24:50 163 25:23 25 25:34 220 27  25, 219 27:5 221 27:15 221 27:34  111, 219 27:41 220 32:24 15 33:3 88 36:11–16 220 37:25 109 38 218 39 222 39:6 47 39:8 47 39:10  87, 88 40:22 136 41:8 153 41:34–35 211 41:34–37 59 41:36 60 41:37 211 41:42  171, 211 41:42–43 143 43:28 88

Genesis (cont.) 44:33 177 44:34 176 45:5 212 45:5–8 9 47 209 47:29 205 50:2–3 61 Exodus 1–12 213 1:8–11 212 1:11 213 1:13–14 100 2:25 69 3:7 70 7:11 153 10:28 232 11:3  187, 225, 232 12:1 182 12:2–3 95 12:22 77 12:29–31 15 12:36 6 14:3 110 15 5 15:2 5 18:7 88 27:12–13 135 28:2 22 28:37 23 33 160 Leviticus 13:45 150 16 95 18:9 170 19:14 25 Numbers 15:38 23 16:1 71

251

Deuteronomy 3:5 206 16:11 198 18:10–11 97 18:13 97 25:5–10 147 25:9 147 28:10 185 28:47  132, 229 28:63–64 99 28:68 99 Joshua 2:14 205 3:7 225 4:14  225, 227 6:27  225, 227 9:9 225 10:8  226, 227 16:10 210 17:13 210 21:41–43 188 21:42  226, 227 21:43 185 23:9 226 Judges 1:28 213 2:14 159 4 193 4:9 159 6:34 124 11:1 71 11:7 163 1 Samuel 5:9 44 8:20 70 8:22 69 9:16 70 13:6 163 14:3 96 14:47–48 7

252 1 Samuel (cont.) 15:28 56 16:5–8 72 16:7 70 16:12 70 17 145 17:11 69 25:17 104 25:36 133 26:13 115 27:1 220 28:6 96 30:2 44 30:19 44 2 Samuel 2:6 205 8 7 9 218 10:11 5 14:2 61 14:2–4 220 14:25 71 15:30  151, 165 15:31 8 1 Kings 1 230 1:2 58 1:3 58 1:4 59 1:5 230 1:12 230 1:22–23 231 1:33 231 2:12 43 2:39 42 2:46 42 3:9 42 3:12 42 3:15 42 5:8 182 6:37 23 7–10 224 7:6 135 8:56 229 8:62 132 8:65–66 132 8:66  24, 229 9:20 210

Index of Scripture 1 Kings (cont.) 10:13 230 10:21 43 12:26 220 16:5 213 21  107, 223 21:2 108 21:7 108 21:8  107, 223 21:8–9 108 21:9–10 139 21:11–13 108 21:14 108 21:15 108 21:16 108 21:19  108, 140 21:21 108 21:23 108 21:27 224 22:45 213

Jeremiah (cont.) 25:11–12 182 31:33 44 33:6 205 42:1 44 42:8 44 44:12 44

2 Kings 2 218 9:34 109 20:19 205 25:26 44 25:27–30 84

Jonah 1:7 97 3:5–7 44

Isaiah 1:21 175 7:1 18 12:2 5 14:32 23 28:16 23 39:8 205 40:4 8 44:25 153 58:5 113 63:8 5 63:9 163

Haggai 2:18 23

Jeremiah 1:1 18 6:13 44 6:24 225 8:10 44 14:2–4 151 14:4 165 14:13 205 15:1 162

Ezekiel 1:2 18 16 67 22:27 98 24:17 151 27:16 23 40 135 Joel 1:18 110 2 113 2:12–14 113

Micah 1:13 182

Zechariah 8:9 23 8:19 206 8:23 71 Psalms 7:16 139 7:16–17 146 33:17 147 34:6 164 42:11 91 105 187 118 5 118:14 5 118:21 5 119:143 163 122 217 122:5 217 122:8–9 217

Index of Scripture Psalms (cont.) 150:2 208 Job 1:1 28 1:16–18 157 13:16 5 33:27 134 Proverbs 6:14–15 143 11:10 179 21:1 70 25:2 228 Ruth 1:1  18, 38 2–3 28 2:3  8, 244 3:8 15 Song of Songs 1:7 176 4:12 87 5 176 5:3 175 Lamentations 1:1 175 2:1 175 4:1 175 Esther 1  22, 24, 26, 38, 91, 93, 121, 168, 169 1:1  18, 35, 38 1:1–8 40 1:2  78, 137 1:2–8 39 1:4  22, 41, 42, 134 1:5  40, 75 1:6 23 1:8  23, 33, 40, 41 1:9–12 45 1:10  24, 41, 46, 78, 168, 229 1:10–11 168 1:11  40, 41, 47, 91 1:12  47, 48, 51, 78 1:12–21 53

Esther (cont.) 1:13  41, 48, 51, 153 1:13–22 48 1:14  22, 78, 165 1:15  49, 91 1:16 91 1:16–20 50 1:17  51, 91 1:17–18 91 1:18 52 1:19  52, 56, 78 1:20  44, 51 1:21  50, 52 1:22  51, 54, 91, 121, 125, 140, 240 2  26, 27, 29, 31, 57, 58, 68, 75, 170, 222 2:1  57, 137, 168 2:1–4 53 2:1–11 63 2:1–20 57 2:2 57 2:2–4 60 2:3  57, 59 2:3–4 211 2:4 65 2:5  33, 87 2:5–6 28 2:5–7  69, 71 2:7  34, 65 2:7–8 29 2:8  62, 74 2:8–9 156 2:9  65, 73 2:10  29, 30, 73, 103, 170, 221 2:11 29 2:12  60, 61, 65, 236 2:12–20 63 2:13  58, 61, 65 2:14  59, 144 2:15  29, 62, 65 2:15–16 29 2:16  62, 74 2:17  62, 65, 144 2:18  126, 210, 229 2:19 76 2:19–20 75

253 Esther (cont.) 2:20  29, 30, 73, 79, 103 2:21 137 2:21–22 29 2:21–23  77, 79, 102 2:22 29 2:22–23 13 2:23 214 3  26, 82 3:1  81, 82, 83, 137, 143, 152, 225, 227, 230 3:1–6 81 3:2  79, 81, 85, 87, 89, 100 3:3 91 3:4  73, 86, 87, 88, 89, 91, 93, 152 3:4–5 86 3:5 89 3:6  79, 89, 91, 93, 135, 220 3:6–7 93 3:7  26, 94, 95, 161 3:8  99, 134, 164, 197 3:8–11 98 3:9  98, 99, 186, 209 3:10 199 3:12  26, 186 3:12–4:3 180 3:12–13  54, 107, 223 3:13  42, 91, 94, 98, 99, 191 3:15  100, 109, 114, 149 4  12, 29, 75, 111, 119, 179, 182, 234, 237 4:1  79, 111, 219, 221, 224, 237 4:1–2 30 4:1–15 115 4:2 112 4:3  103, 112, 113, 122, 215, 216 4:4  112, 113, 115 4:5  30, 113, 117 4:5–12 115 4:7  100, 152, 215

254 Esther (cont.) 4:7–8  79, 101 4:8  30, 116, 173 4:10  30, 116 4:11  76, 116, 120, 232 4:13  123, 125 4:13–14 119 4:13–16  90, 116 4:14  31, 113, 117, 118, 125 4:16  31, 32, 110, 118, 120, 121 4:17 30 5  12, 125 5:1  22, 124, 133, 221, 222 5:1–8 124 5:2 176 5:4  126, 127, 129, 130 5:5  127, 129 5:7–8 128 5:8 130 5:9  90, 129, 132, 133, 154, 224, 229 5:9–14 132 5:10  133, 153 5:11  133, 216 5:12 134 5:13 164 5:14  107, 134, 135, 142, 153, 156, 224 6  4, 15, 16, 81, 141, 171, 237 6:1  15, 137, 229 6:1–3 171 6:1–5 142 6:3 143 6:4 22 6:4–5 171 6:4–6 231 6:6  33, 143, 220 6:6–9 171 6:8 150 6:8–9  143, 231 6:10  36, 142, 161 6:10–12 171 6:11 147 6:11–12  142, 144

Index of Scripture Esther (cont.) 6:12  148, 149, 165 6:12–13 149 6:13  145, 152, 153, 243 6:13–14 171 6:14  150, 156 6:14–7:10 156 7  165, 168 7:1  129, 214 7:1–6  80, 171 7:2 157 7:3  128, 160, 162 7:3–4 102 7:4  105, 160, 163, 209 7:5  102, 164 7:6  33, 114, 160, 163 7:7  104, 162 7:7–8 171 7:7–10 53 7:8  114, 151, 154, 164, 167, 171, 202 7:9  36, 136, 140, 167, 168, 171, 173 7:9–10 80 7:10 168 8  170, 179, 182, 215 8:1  61, 137, 160, 167, 170, 199 8:1–2  31, 170, 171 8:1–8 170 8:2  178, 211 8:3  31, 173, 174, 178 8:4  100, 174 8:5  106, 160 8:5–6 174 8:6 175 8:7  33, 79, 107 8:7–8  33, 175, 177 8:8 178 8:9  26, 53, 183, 186 8:9–10  33, 55, 107 8:9–16 179 8:9–17 180 8:10 182 8:11  183, 189, 191 8:14  149, 156 8:15  170, 211

Esther (cont.) 8:17  154, 184, 185, 186 8:17–9:4 185 9  26, 75, 208 9:1  13, 55, 146, 194, 237 9:1–2 191 9:2  186, 187, 226 9:2–3 154 9:3 186 9:4  33, 225, 227, 232 9:5 191 9:10  191, 199, 226 9:11 192 9:12  33, 188 9:13  33, 188, 193 9:15 188 9;15–16 226 9:15–16 191 9:15–32 194 9:16 188 9:16–18 195 9:17–18 197 9:17–19 192 9:18 110 9:19 195 9:20–21 34 9:20–22 198 9:20–28 204 9:20–32 195 9:21 194 9:22  199, 205 9:23 201 9:24 199 9:24–28 201 9:26 94 9:27 194 9:28 217 9:29  34, 194 9:29–32  202, 203, 204, 209 9:30 203 9:31  194, 205 9:32  34, 80, 194 10  194, 208, 212 10:1  19, 208 10:1–3 209 10:2  35, 210, 213, 214, 215

255

Index of Scripture Esther (cont.) 10:2–3  34, 216 10:3  214, 216, 217 Daniel 1 223 2:1 223 2:12–13 153 2:48 223 2:49 223 3 223 3:17 87 6:2 39 6:19 223 8:2 22 11:16 226

Ezra 4:4–7 19 4:6  17, 21 6:11  136, 172

1 Chronicles (cont.) 28:22 163 29:19 23 29:25 225

Nehemiah 5:1–4 20 5:8 106 8:9–10 198 8:12 198 13:10 20 13:23–24 183

2 Chronicles 2:13 23 3:14 23 5:12 23 7:10 229 13:17 192 15:13 44 24:20 124 26:20 149 26:21 150

1 Chronicles 12:19 124 15:26 23

Deuterocanonical Works 1 Maccabees 7:48–49 238

2 Maccabees 15:36 238