Representing the Wise: A Gendered Approach: Proceedings of the 1st Melammu Workshop. Lille, 4-5 April 2016 (Melammu Workshops and Monographs) 9783963270680, 3963270683

Citation preview

MWM 1 Representing the Wise • A Gendered Approach

www.zaphon.de

Melammu Workshops and Monographs 1

Representing the Wise A Gendered Approach Proceedings of the 1st Melammu Workshop, Lille, 4–5 April 2016

Edited by Stéphanie Anthonioz and Sebastian Fink

Zaphon

MWM-1-Cover-Sophia-2.indd 1

07.05.2019 11:55:50

Representing the Wise A Gendered Approach Proceedings of the 1st Melammu Workshop, Lille, 4–5 April 2016

Edited by Stéphanie Anthonioz and Sebastian Fink

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Melammu Workshops and Monographs Volume 1

Edited by Sebastian Fink and Robert Rollinger

Scientific Board Alberto Bernabé (Madrid) Josine Blok (Utrecht) Rémy Boucharlat (Lyon) Eckart Frahm (New Haven) Mait Kõiv (Tartu) Ingo Kottsieper (Göttingen) Daniele Morandi Bonacossi (Udine) Sabine Müller (Marburg) Simonetta Ponchia (Verona) Kurt Raaflaub (Providence) Thomas Schneider (Vancouver) Rahim Shayegan (Los Angeles) Shigeo Yamada (Tsukuba)

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Representing the Wise A Gendered Approach Proceedings of the 1st Melammu Workshop, Lille, 4–5 April 2016

Edited by Stéphanie Anthonioz and Sebastian Fink

Zaphon Münster 2019 © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Melammu Logo was drawn by Rita Berg from a Greco-Persian style seal found on the northeastern shore of the Black Sea (Dominique Collon, First Impressions: Cylinder Seals in the Ancient Near East (London: British Museum Publications 1987), no. 432). Cover illustration: Sophia (Wisdom) in the Celsus Library in Ephesus; © José Luiz Bernardes Ribeiro (https://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ficheiro:14.25_Sophia_(Wisdom)_in_the_Celsus_Libr ary_in_Ephesus.JPG).

Representing the Wise. A Gendered Approach. Proceedings of the 1st Melammu Workshop, Lille, 4–5 April 2016 Edited by Stéphanie Anthonioz and Sebastian Fink = Melammu Workshops and Monographs 1

© 2019 Zaphon, Münster (www.zaphon.de) All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photo-copying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. Printed in Germany Printed on acid-free paper ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Table of Contents Representing the Wise: A Gendered Approach. Introduction Stéphanie Anthonioz / Sebastian Fink...................................................................7 Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia Gebhard J. Selz ...................................................................................................17 Male Sages in Sumerian Literature Peeter Espak .......................................................................................................43 Female Sages in Akkadian Literature Saana Svärd ........................................................................................................53 Male Sages in Akkadian Literature Raija Mattila .......................................................................................................65 The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt Pascal Vernus .....................................................................................................71 Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud: Considerations Informed by Social Memory and Current Cross- and Trans-disciplinary Trends in the Study of Wisdom Ehud Ben Zvi.....................................................................................................119 Lady Wisdom in Prov 1–9; 31: Context, Definition and Function of her Personification Stéphanie Anthonioz .........................................................................................149 Lady Wisdom in Greek Culture: Athena as a Deity of Polymorphic Intelligence Ennio Biondi .....................................................................................................163 Paideia makes the Man: A Gendered Approach to the Figure of the Wise Man in Imperial Rome Claudia Horst ...................................................................................................173 Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples Kordula Schnegg...............................................................................................185 Index .................................................................................................................205

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Representing the Wise A Gendered Approach Introduction Stéphanie Anthonioz / Sebastian Fink

The first Melammu Workshop “Representing the Wise: A Gendered Approach” was held in “La Maison des chercheurs” at the Catholic University of Lille in April 2016 and assembled a team of twelve scholars from Europe and Canada in order to closely examine the representation of the wise from a gendered perspective. Our initial endeavor was to ask how female and male representatives of the wise, female and male sages, were conceptualized in antiquity and whether there was a clear difference between female and male wisdom. The workshop followed a kind of historical chronology starting from Mesopotamian and Egyptian sources, continuing West through the Levant and ending with Greek and Roman documentation. It permitted a vast exploration of sages, both divine and human, as they were portrayed in antiquity. The papers brought to light several tensions among which the question of gender was not the least. Indeed, the nature of wisdom itself, human and divine, empirical, theoretical but also at times abstract and difficult to outline, pointed to the difficulty of a definition. Hence the plurality of representations might be interpreted as a sign of this difficulty and variety. Moreover, the gender question was found to be strongly related to the societies and their organization as evidenced elsewhere in current research.1 Any generalization or typology of the sages at this point could not be drawn but a clear historical evolution toward masculine representation of wisdom was evidenced. Certainly, this has to do with social change, economic structures and the loci of power and authority. However, in many regards, women appear as counterparts or homologues of men in their quest for wisdom. In that sense, the workshop proved very fruitful in displaying a large gallery of portraits and in bringing to light differences according to social settings and sources but also main trends of evolution through historical times. The aim of this introduction is not to summarize the different contributions, though it does to some extent, but rather to highlight the most valuable reflections that were carried out, whether on a social, historical, philosophical, philological, theological or even methodological level. In Mesopotamian sources, especially in Sumerian – a language that does not differentiate grammatically between male and female –, the sage is called abgal, a title reserved for male priests as far as our documentation goes. It is found later in Akkadian sources to designate ancient sages who shared their primordial wis1

Budin / MacIntosh Turfa, 2016; Peled, 2016; Svärd, 2015; Creangă/Smit, 2014; AsherGreve/Westenholz, 2013; Bahrani, 2001. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

8

Stéphanie Anthonioz / Sebastian Fink

dom, some kind of “secret knowledge,” with mankind. Mortal scholars, like diviners, were then identified with the apkallū. Sumerian sources, maybe also due to the above mentioned problem that it is not always easy to determine the gender of a given person, only rarely inform us that such “experts” are both male and female.2 However, in the Akkadian sources, female scribes and scholars are attested all through Mesopotamian history.3 If there were not as many female as male scribes and scholars, women who wrote did so in similar ways as their male counterparts although it is possible that they were excluded from certain scientific domains such as mathematics and astro-physics. Thus, an emic notion abgalapkallu may be identified. It points to some kind of cosmology or mythology of wisdom, as the gift of wisdom is from the gods and is from before the flood. This line of thought is developed in the contribution of Raija Mattila. If wisdom comes from before the flood, it is no wonder to find at work in the sources and the titles or names of the sages a kind of temporality of wisdom in accordance with the cosmology at hand: sages are of old, indeed they are often portrayed as old. umma as the most common Sumerian term for women sages does refer to old women as well as to the experienced ones. Are they not the perfect counterpart to the archetypal mythological figure called in Latin senex? At this point it seems possible to carefully define some anthropological constants in the representation of wisdom. For, in many Mesopotamian sources, if wisdom is the knowledge “from olden times” it is not necessarily secret or mysterious but often practical and empirical. In fact, wisdom is designated ĝeštu in Sumerian translated uznu “ear” in Akkadian. In its abstract meaning, it points to the capability of receiving instructions or “words of wisdom” through the ears and therefore it means “understanding.”4 It is also the capability to use or master the received and heard wisdom so that it may be translated “(practical) skill,” “craft” or “cleverness.” An English translation also fitting is “knowledge.” Clearly this point invites us not only to take up the measure of orality in these cultures but the vastness of the field of wisdom in antiquity from practical to theoretical knowledge,5 knowing and mastering different crafts or arts or knowing how to deal in life even at the point of being tricky or crafty. 2

Consider Selz’ contribution and the pair Enkum/Ninkum belonging to Enki’s temple staff in Eridu. 3 Lion, 2011: 90–112 and related bibliography. 4 This is also reflected by the structure of Mesopotamian wisdom literature. Usually a father gives advice to a son and informs him that he should follow his advice. So for example in the famous Instructions of Šuruppak, which is a collection of proverbs, every new set of proverbs is introduced with the formula “My son, let me give instruction; let my instructions be taken! Ziusudra, let me speak a word to you; let attention be paid to them! Don’t neglect my instructions! Don’t transgress the words I speak! The instructions of an old man are precious you should comply with them!” (lines 9–13). Translation Alster, 2005: 57–58. 5 Anthonioz, 2016. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Representing the Wise

9

Interestingly, also, hearing does not go without seeing. This notion of seeing is clear in the Sumerian name of Gilgameš as “speaker of wisdom” (igi kug-zu dug4-dug4-ga), in the adjective igigallim (“with wisdom-igigallim that Ea decreed for me” in Codex Hammurapi) but also in kug-zu literally “the one who knows shining (things)” which may imply the notion of astronomical observation according to Gebhard Selz. Other wise goddesses known in Sumerian sources, Ĝeštinana, Nanše, and the goddess of the scribal art, Nissaba, are addressed as dreaminterpreters. In other words, they are those who see through the dark side of life. Besides hearing, seeing, interpreting, wisdom is also connected to speaking well, moderation and scribal arts, or the knowledge of writing. Many examples are provided by Raija Mattila. Nissaba(k)’s connection to the Heavenly Writing is attested in so many different sources that Gebhard Selz has proposed an etymology for her name, that is Nissabak > *nin-še-ba-ak, meaning “Lady of the Barley Ration,” thus linking counting and writing to her name and thereby explaining her many roles and attributions.6 Accordingly it may be that the late Early Dynastic situation reflects a much earlier tradition, in which the heads of households were not the paterfamilias, but the materfamilias, a situation that changed later at the turn of the third millennium. Interestingly, as demonstrated by Saana Svärd, female counsellors appear to be “still” rooted very strongly in societies of the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian periods. Indeed, Ninsun in the Epic of Gilgameš is the ideal mother, not only helping her son in his quest but also skillfully interpreting dreams. Her role may be compared to Naqi’a, mother of king Esarhaddon, or Adad-guppi, mother of Nabonidus. Therefore, narratives and inscriptions tend to confirm the social role of mothers as consellors and sages in the long run. The breadth of the lexical field of wisdom provides us with an insight into the society as to what were the fields of wisdom but also as to who were the wise whether gods or goddesses, priests or priestesses, kings or queens, scholars and scribes. The tension identified in the nature of wisdom is therefore seen in the representation of the sages. Hence Gilgameš’s “search for eternal life” ends in failure: Gilgameš had manifestly hoped for abilities and wisdom beyond the reach of his human character and capability. And if Enki is the wise god per excellence, the mythological narratives devoted to this figure show again this kind of dilemma as he combines both sides of being wise and tricky. Moreover, his need to share wisdom with a feminine figure is fascinating as shown by Peeter Espak. Enki does not act alone but uses the help and advice of the mother-goddess as in Enki and Ninmaḫ. In that respect the great fertility goddess and the great male god of knowledge are interdependent in their wisdom. They are both definable as “sages,” but they cannot act without each other. The important role of the mothergoddess and her wisdom is also clearly visible in the myth Enki and Ninḫursaĝ,

6

See Selz, 1989 and his contribution to this volume. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

10

Stéphanie Anthonioz / Sebastian Fink

where, in spite of all the great wisdom and powers of the male god Enki, the female goddess is the one who offers the final solution to the story and saves the life of the immoral Enki. Certainly, this tension forces us to consider sages, male and female, in their tension however not so much because of gender but because of the very nature of wisdom, theoretically divine yet human in practice. In Egyptian sources, the analysis of Papyrus Chester Beatty IV by Pascal Vernus confirms the tension between the divine source of wisdom and the humans who make use of it. The author therefore has proposed the concept of “innovation” or “delayed disclosure:” all has been divinely given yet all must be humanly discovered. Wisdom in this sense is very much connected with creation as its process of revelation is ongoing and men are said wise as they act in accordance with this process of creation/revelation knowingly or not. Blatantly, no women are ever said to be wise in this text. However, confronting practical texts would depict women in position of more power and freedom compared to other near eastern societies.7 Yet it seems they had no access to teaching, therefore to transmitting and hence to wisdom as defined in these particular sources. The sources from the Levant are far less numerous. The oral contribution made by Ingo Kottsieper (not published in the present volume) showed by redactional analysis of the collection known as the Proverbs of Ahiqar how this text was made up of small collections containing only few – mostly two to five – proverbs. Thus, they might have been first used by single persons or as a family heritage, as teachings of wisdom that grandfathers and grandmothers would have transmitted. This picture however is changed by the short narrative written later as an introduction to the final text. Obviously, the author understood these collections as typical of the teaching a father gives to his son in order to educate and prepare him for his professional duties. This, of course, does not mean that the same collections did not exist for girls being taught by their mothers. A number of Hebrew texts are today usually designated as the Hebrew Bible. Ehud Ben Zvi reminds us that this is an anachronistic designation, as the ancient literature must have been much wider, and the texts originally did not form the content of one book – rather they were written in different periods and belonged to a number of different genres. Moreover, we are informed that the world described by the Hebrew Bible is itself informed with its specific gender construction and we may question that construction. The emphasis is thus put on “wisewomen,” but just as it is the case with all gendered social constructions, “gender appropriate” wise-women cannot be understood without reference to “gender appropriate” wise-men. Several examples of wise-women are analyzed whether explicitly referred to as “wise” or performing roles associated with “wise-people” of old, whose memory was evoked among the male literati who not only created a world of memory by reading texts in the mentioned core repertoire of books,

7

Hieke, 2011: 153–160. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Representing the Wise

11

but also were ideologically socialized by reading them. These include the wise woman of Abel of Beth-maacah (2 Sam 20), the wise woman of Tekoa (2 Sam 14), Abigail (1 Sam 25), the Queen of Sheba, the mother of King Lemuel, the wife of Prov 31:10–31, Bathsheba, Deborah. This methodology warns us not to accept a superficial, positivistic interpretation of the texts which were preserved for us. Many concepts are thus put forward for a better methodology, such as “situational wisdom” that is “wise in one case but not necessarily in the other,” “essential contingency” that is “things do not have to be what they are,” or “political action” preferred to a drastic opposition between private and public spheres of action. Concerning the nature of wisdom, these sources tend to confirm the fact that women are examples of practical wisdom rather than theoretical one. They are the tricky ones – they possess the wisdom of this earth – rather than divine heroes. However, in time of need, they may be asked to share their wisdom with men which is reminiscent of the figures of Enki and Ninmah or Ninhursag in Sumerian mythology. In this case, male and female sages are counterparts, homologues, and not opposites. The place of Lady Wisdom is particular and needs more reflection. Is she not unique in the field of biblical studies? What is her status in relation to the main divinity in the Jerusalem sanctuary? What is her function in the literary context of the book of Proverbs and more widely in the works usually called Wisdom Literature? And finally, what does she stand for in the field of the history of religion? In all these points, she does stand aside from other wise biblical women, as argued by Stéphanie Anthonioz, and the introduction of this figure points to a renewed reflection on the divine and the concept of exclusive yahwism. The Greek sources were presented in the oral contribution of C. Leblanc (not published here) through the lens of the masculine philosopher, as the one able to adopt a neutral, non-partisan position, “une vue de hauteur.” Indeed, it is from this perspective that the “thinking subject,” will be theorized much later. Detaching himself from the object he is; he can observe or contemplate this object and begin to shape it or modify (improve) it so that the so-called object be in conformity to the ideal representation it should reach. The sage must seek moderation, a quality that was already expected of kings in Mesopotamian sources. Here we see the evolution and a new circumscription of wisdom: from the wide fields of arts and crafts, practical and theoretical knowledge, it tends to be concerned only with a particular behaviour. Only the philosopher is a sage. How are we to understand the masculine approach of Greek philosophy? Is it reserved for men or simply a matter of language as the “he” encompasses the “she?” Can a woman be a subject and the object of her own conscience, so that the “he” would only be matter of Greek grammar and not gender? And how are the few female philosophers the sources inform us about represented?

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

12

Stéphanie Anthonioz / Sebastian Fink

Before answering this question in Roman sources, let us remember that in Greek mythology, the personification of wisdom is the goddess Athena, daughter of Zeus and of his first wife Metis, as discussed by Ennio Biondi. Athena is the goddess of wisdom, of arts such as weaving in particular and of all crafts in general. She is also the patron deity of the noblest aspects of war, while Ares oversees the most cruel and violent aspects of warfare. Interestingly Zeus swallowed Metis when she was pregnant with Athena herself, which symbolizes the close relationship between mother and daughter, but also between father and daughter as he somehow generated her from his head. Here we may notice a kind of transgendered approach of what the roles should be though this is only concerned in Hesiod’s view with the divine sphere. In Greek mythological sources, men and women do not only offer complimentary forms of wisdom, sometimes their gender is presented as irrelevant. Another oral contribution made by Aleksandra Szalc (also not published here) focused on Indian sources and described very different situations where women are wise and remembered as such. It showed a clear evolution in the concept of wisdom that is freedom through the detachment of the body from the soul. This is not without analogy with the Greek sources: is the good philosopher concentrated upon himself still able to cope with the reality of life? The very nature of wisdom seems to be redefined, the tension exists between the divine and the human but it is displaced from the exterior of life to the interior of a person’s mind. At this point, we might return to the question of male and female wisdom, as practical and impractical. While we have first touched upon this topic concerning the Ancient Near East, the Indian and Greek philosophers, their withdrawal from this world questions whether these men were still able to cope with the reality of life. Obviously, some philosophers would immediately ask “Which reality?” but for now let us ignore these questions and turn to a famous anecdote that confronts Thales with the practical wisdom of a Thracian maidservant: “Why, take the case of Thales, Theodorus. While he was studying the stars and looking upwards, he fell into a pit, and a neat, witty Thracian servant girl jeered at him, they say, because he was so eager to know the things in the sky that he could not see what was there before him at his very feet. The same jest applies to all who pass their lives in philosophy” (Plato, Theaetetus 174a).8 A philosopher, according to Socrates, can be rather a strange man when he has to deal with things that are of no interest to him, “the things at his feet and before his eyes.” The Thracian servant girl, despite her low social status and her lack of philosophical wisdom, can teach a lesson to the first philosopher Thales. While he deals with the heavens and the stars, he still is a living person that somehow 8

Translation from http://www.perseus.tufts.edu based on Fowler’s 1921 edition. For an in-depth analysis of this anecdote and its meaning see Blumenberg, 1987. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Representing the Wise

13

has to cope with being an intellect “trapped” in a body. C. Leblanc gave some hints about this new understanding of philosophy as an exercise in learning to die, which means freeing the intellect from the body. Henceforth, women as givers of life can be seen as antithetic figures of the philosophers. The wise man wants to free himself from his body, while the woman gives birth to souls incarcerated in bodies. While the wise man engages in all kinds of theoretical speculations, the woman has to take care of practical matters and thereby to force her man – we could think of all the anecdotes about Xanthippe and Socrates – to engage at times with the world he is living in and thereby disturb his speculations. Not all schools of philosophy shared these views, and we have also some famous female Greek philosophers, like Hipparchia of Marenea, but we could ask ourselves if they did actually gave up their female way, the practical knowledge, in order to become female incorporations of the male ideals of frugality and hostility to the body. Roman sources do give some clue about this as Claudia Horst helps us to better understand how wisdom worked in the social construction and representation of men and women. The Second Sophistic in Roman first and second century AD did not only respond to political problems, but also to the shaken self-confidence of the aristocracy; and the Second Sophistic was to re-define the relations between the emperor and the aristocratic elites, between Greeks and Romans, men and women. Although there were a number of lettered women in the Roman imperial period, it was the purpose of the Paideia to provide a new foundation for the privileged position of men. This position was explained in terms of universal knowledge so that we end somewhere where we started, in the wild and vast field of wisdom except that it is now constructed to serve man’s position in a rather exclusive manner. However, Kordula Schnegg did provide several highlights regarding female sages. The discussion of the representations of educated women shows how perceptions of a sophos or also phronikos determines the description of the female sage. Whereas Cornelia stands as a loyal wife at the side of the important politician Cn. Pompeius Magnus, and Porcia, as the active wife of M. Iunius Brutus, Hortensia, Hypatia and Sosipatra become orators and philosophers in the public sphere. It may be said that Cornelia, Porcia and Hortensia stand for “sages in practical affairs,” whereas Sosipatra and Hypatia assume the role of a sophos. Moreover, the particular talent of these women rests upon an exclusive access to the future, revealed by visions. What makes these women sages is not their philosophical or ethical maxims but their prophetic gifts which they offer to the general public. This is a different expression of wisdom than that taught by philosophical education. Accordingly, the female figures are not designated by philosophical concepts of wisdom but by the fact that they are mystical female seers. Indeed, this gift of divination is not without recalling Mesopotamian female sages

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

14

Stéphanie Anthonioz / Sebastian Fink

and the close relation of prophecy and woman.9 This workshop has thus borne many fruits, its proceedings show the vastness and riches of the field of wisdom in antiquity, and its relation to cosmology, temporality and anthropology, the tension between divine and human aspects, and last but not least a renewed vision of wisdom through the gendered approach. Of course, it would not reflect all the diversity of our sources if we tried to reduce them. All must be analysed and understood in their own social and historical contexts. However, it appears that time and again male representation of wisdom is part of an historical and social development where more and more power was taken by males, the ideal of wisdom was defined by males and therefore representations tended to be masculine. If we understood the idea of a gendered approach in a strict sense, we could even distinguish between male and female wisdom, as in most societies in antiquity woman and man had their ideal roles. In order to fulfil these expectations, in order to perform their roles, different skills and different knowledge were needed. Obviously, these roles were only ideals and the facts of life do not always show consideration for human ideals. Therefore, the picture of actual sages was surely more colourful than a reconstruction from idealising treatises and male-dominated source material allows us to see today. If we only focus on finding woman sages that did the same things as man did, we might miss important insights and therefore this workshop was planned as a detailed comparison of female and male representations of the wise. The close study of the sources conducted by the authors of this volume leads us to the conclusion that the relation between the feminine and the masculine is not so much a matter of opposition but rather of cooperation and complementation. Bibliography Asher-Greve, J.M. / Westenholz, J.G., 2013: Goddesses in Context: On Divine Powers, Roles, Relationships and Gender in Mesopotamian Textual and Visual Sources. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 259. Fribourg/Göttingen. Alster, B., 2005: Wisdom of Ancient Sumer. Bethesda. Anthonioz, S., 2016: “A Reflection on the Nature of Wisdom from Psalm 1 to Mesopotamian Traditions”. In J.-S. Rey / H. Najman / E. Tigchelaar (eds.): Tracing Sapiential Traditions in Ancient Judaism. JSJSup. Leyde. Pp. 43–56. Bahrani, Z., 2001: Women of Babylon: Gender and Representation in Mesopotamia. London / New York. Blumenberg, H., 1987: Das Lachen der Thrakerin. Eine Urgeschichte der Theorie. Frankfurt am Main. Budin, S.L. / MacIntosh T.J., (eds.), 2016: Women in Antiquity: Real Women Across the Ancient World. London / New York.

9

For a broad comparative analysis see the chapter on “Prophecy and Gender” in Nissinen, 2017: 297–325. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Representing the Wise

15

Creangă, O. / Smit, P.-B., (eds.), 2014: Biblical Masculinities Foregrounded. Hebrew Bible monographs 62. Sheffield. Fontaine, C.R., 2002: Smooth Words: Women, Proverbs and Performance in Biblical Wisdom. JSOT Supplement Series 356. Sheffield. — 1999: “A Heifer from Thy Stable: On Goddesses and the Status of Women in the Ancient Near East”. In A. Bach (ed.): Women in the Hebrew Bible. London / New York. Pp. 159–178. Hieke, T., 2011: “Genealogy as a Means of Historical Representation in the Torah and the Role of Women in the Genealogical System”. In I. Fischer et al. (eds.): Torah. Atlanta. Pp. 151–192. Lion, B., 2011: “Literacy and Gender”. In K. Radner / E. Robson (eds.): The Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture. Oxford. Pp. 90–112. Nissinen, M., 2017: Ancient Prophecy. Near Eastern, Biblical and Greek Perspectives. Oxford. Peled, I., 2016: Masculinities and Third Gender: The Origins and Nature of an Institutionalized Gender Otherness in the Ancient Near East. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 435. Münster. Plato, Plato in Twelve Volumes, Vol. 12 translated by H. N. Fowler. Cambridge / London. 1921. Selz, G., 1989 “Nissaba(k), Herrin der Getreidezuteilungen”. In H. Behrens et al. (eds.): Dumu-E2-Dub-Ba-A: Studies in Honor of Åke W. Sjöberg. Occasional Publications of the Samuel Noah Kramer Fund 11. Philadelphia: The University Museum. Pp. 491–497. Svärd, S., 2015: Women and Power in Neo-Assyrian Palaces. Helsinki.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia Gebhard J. Selz1

Meiner Frau, Hannah Monschein, der Weisen Abstract: Within the frame of Mesopotamian concepts of experience, wisdom, and the wise person, this paper discusses Sumerian sources regarding earthly and divine “wise, experienced women”. Special attention is given to the dominant female divine sages and their somewhat puzzling prominence. It is suggested that this reflects earlier social and economic conditions which had long prevailed in the religious sphere. These concepts were finally confronted by the religious changes of the first millennium, and their afterlife is briefly discussed.2 Structure: 0. Introduction; 1. Wisdom, experience, and empiricism. 2. Female experts and professions. 3. NUN.ME and related matters. 4. Enḫedu’ana as literata. 5. Female sages and wisdom goddesses: Nanše and Nissaba. 6. Changes in and the afterlife of the “sage” concept.

0. Introduction: In modern conception, the notion of a “wise person” is often intertwined with the assumption of literacy. To be sure, scribes and the scribal traditions played a major role in the Mesopotamian transmission of knowledge. P. Steinkeller recently re-evaluated the role of the scribal élite and determined that the influence of this class – which he so aptly termed the “Managerial Class” – cannot be overrated (Steinkeller, 2017: 5–81, esp. 74–81). Much of the textual information available to us reflects the efforts of the literate communities, known as ummânu, “literati, sages.” The scribes in Mesopotamia are generally credited with three roles: the scribe as bureaucrat, the scribe as poet, and the scribe as 1

Unless otherwise stated (Bibliography), the abbreviations in this article follow general Assyriological practice: compare e.g. Archiv für Orientforschung 40/41 (1993–1994) 343– 369 or Abkürzungen des Reallexikons der Assyriologie und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie. Stand November 2015, at http://www.rla.badw.de/Reallexikon/ (accessed November 2017). The translations of Sumerian literary sources are adapted from ETCSL. For reading convenience some ETCSL composite transcriptions are not repeated here. My deep gratitude is, again, due to Craig Crossen for a critical reading of this paper and also for improving its English. 2 The “Female Sage” in Mesopotamian Tradition is the topic of a 1990 article by Harris. She subdivides her description into the Female Scribe as Bureaucrat, the Female Scribe as Poetess, the Female Scribe as Scholar, Female Performing Artists, Women as Healers, and Women as Counselors. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

18

Gebhard J. Selz

scholar. The great influence the literati exerted upon the conception of Mesopotamian history is well-known and was also recently discussed by Steinkeller, with specific reference to the various versions of the Sumerian King List.3 Recently the role of female scribes in Mesopotamia was discussed by Peirce, 1995 (2000): 2266, Waetzoldt, 2009–2011: 263, and esp. Lion, 2008 and 2011. Furthermore, our textual sources overwhelmingly possess an official character, with strong links not only to the Managerial Class, but generally to the ruling élite. In the sphere of experts, the scribes play (for us) a salient role. Although the role of female scribes in Mesopotamian culture has been repeatedly discussed, the scribal art was usually considered a male domain.4 However, knowledge and wisdom are far broader topics, transcending the scribal sphere as such, and our sources contain much mediated secondary information on these male and female persons. In order to counteract the bias of our sources, cultural history has to screen the available data for the role of the less articulate,5 be they everyman or everywoman or the “female sages.” A “sage” by definition is neither always nor necessarily, a scribe.6 In the following a “sage” is understood broadly to be a “wise, greatly experienced person,” not necessarily implying ‘metaphysical’ or cultic expertise. We focus on Sumerian sources for women who are described or labeled as “wise” and “experienced”

3 Steinkeller, 2017: 51: “Rather than an essentially educational tool, I would rather see in them an expression of independent intellectual inquiry and, even more so, of the solidarity of a particular professional social group.” 4 More than 40 years ago Hartmut Waetzoldt noted in Schreiberwesen (1973: 15–26) that of over 1500 names of scribes just two were female. But he further pointed out that a) many women possessed their own seals; b) they played a salient role in economic transactions; c) the personal name nin-dub-sar “The Queen (is) a Scribe” was quite popular; e) Old Babylonian economic documents (including Mari) attest female scribes (nadītu); and finally f) according to literary traditions Enḫedu’ana, the daughter of Sargon I, was a scribe. (cp. Hallo, 1976; Harris, 1990: 8–9; Peirce, 2000: 2266; Nemet-Nejat, 2002: 150–152, Lion, 2001 and 2008). A similar role is attested for Ninšagtapada (Hallo, 1991). Other possible poetesses (cp. Harris, 1990: 8–9) appear in the Sumerian Love Songs (Sefati, 1998). Also, in 2005: 113 Selz noted that some of these Dumuzid-Inanna love songs depict women as autonomous erotic subjects and may actually show female notions of sexuality, no matter who actually wrote the extant text. This was already suggested by Cooper, 1997, who argued that the authors of some of those compositions were women simply because they displayed “feminine sensibility and a female approach to sexuality.” 5 “Who speaks for the so-called inarticulate, the undocumented in history? (…) Can any one history embrace a variety of voices and various viewpoints?” Berkhofer, 1988: 435– 452. 6 Nor would every scribe or member of the managerial class be considered a “sage.” For various members of this class and some specialized “scribes” see especially MSL XII (Old Babylonian Proto Lu2), pp. 29–71 and compare the discussion below paragraph 2.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

19

and goddesses renowned for their wisdom and venerated for transmitting it to humanity.7 1. Wisdom, experience, and empiricism There are numerous terms which relate to the notion of a “wise person” (data derived from ePSD): atuku [POWERFUL] wr. a2-tuku “powerful, able-bodied” Akk. igigallu; lē’û < “able; competent” gal-(an-)zu [GREATLY KNOWING]: wr. gal-zu (also read. erištix); gal-an-zu (also with the reading ereš58 “wise, knowing” = Akk. eršu; mūdû) galam [SKILFUL] wr. galam “(to be) skillful, elaborate, clever; to make artfully” Akk. naklu gašam [WISE] wr. gašam (NUN.ME.TAG) “(to be) knowing, wise; sending, mission; work; craftsman, specialist” Akk. mūdū; ummiānu; šipru ĝeštug [EAR] wr. ĝeštug2; ĝešĝeštug; ĝeštug; ĝeštug3; muštug2; mu-uš-tug2; muuš-tug “reason, plan; (to be) wise; wisdom, understanding; ear” Akk. ḫassu; uznu; ṭēmu; < “hearing” ĝizzal [EAR] wr. ĝizzal; gizzal2 “wisdom; understanding; ear; hearing” Akk. hasīsu; uznu; nešmû igiĝal [WISE] wr. igi-ĝal2 “wise” < “observing” igiĝaltuku [WISE] wr. igi-ĝal2-tuku “wise, clever” < “observing” Akk. emqu kugzu [WISE] wr. kug-zu “wise” < “knowing shining/holy (things)” šugalanzu [WISE] wr. šu-gal-an-zu “wise; skillful” Akk. mūdû < “knowing great labor,” or similar urun [CLEVER] wr. urunx(EN) “(to be) clever” Akk. naklu usandu [WISE] wr. usandu; usandux(|NUNUZ.AB2×AŠGAB|) “wise, clever” Akk. emqu; obscure9 The designations for “wise (persons)” stress knowledge and skill. The focus is clearly empirical, especially referring to the various sorts of aesthetic perception10. Occasionally there seems to be astronomical/astrological implications, as in kug-zu lit. “the one who knows shining/holy (things).”11 In short, close obser7

A somewhat different subject is the role of the female creation goddesses as indicated by Espak in this volume. However, a discussion of Ninhursaĝa, NIN-maḫ (= Erešmaḫ) et al. would only partially contribute to our topic and provide little information specifically on “female sages.” 8 Like erištix, most probably an early loan from Akkadian, derived from eršu, which refers to the skillful craftsman (sem. ḥārāš). The fem. form seems reserved to the creation goddess Mami. 9 /usandu/ normally means “bird catcher; fowler” and is derived from the Sumerian mušendu3. There might be a connection with augury (ex avibus). 10 For this notion cp. Selz, 2018. 11 See below and cp. Selz, 2014, Rochberg, 2004, further Koch, 2010. For the post-Meso© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

20

Gebhard J. Selz

vation of natural phenomena is the precondition for wisdom. However, it must be stressed that for the Mesopotamians, in contrast to our notions, empiricism is not restricted to natural objects but includes divination and what we would consider magic (cp. Selz 2011b). In the first millennium “wisdom” was often related to “secret knowledge.”12 Nearly all the Sumerian terms for a “wisdom” stress empiricism: ĝeštug [EAR] wr. ĝeštug2; ĝešĝeštug; ĝeštug; ĝeštug3; muštug2; mu-uš-tug2; muuš-tug “reason, plan; (to be) wise; wisdom, understanding; ear” Akk. ḫassu; uznu; ṭēmu GEŠTUGNISABA [WISDOM] wr. GEŠTUG2.NISABA “wisdom” ĝizzal [EAR] wr. ĝizzal; gizzal2 “wisdom; understanding; ear; hearing” Akk. ḫasīsu; uznu; nešmû namgalanzu [WISDOM] wr. nam-gal-an-zu “wisdom” < “knowing big things” namkugzu [WISDOM] wr. nam-kug-zu “wisdom” < “knowing holy/shining things” namzu [WISDOM] wr. nam-zu “wisdom”; “knowledgeable” 2. Female experts and professions 2.1. As has already been indicated, the experts, especially scribes, form the core of the Managerial Class. Many of these experts might deserve the sobriquet “wise, experienced.” A major problem for any research into Sumerian female professions and related offices or functions is that Sumerian has no grammatical gender. Therefore, it is extremely hard to prove when such terms refer to females exercising a specific responsibility or holding a certain office.13 There are, of course, designations reserved to women holding such offices, like lukur14 “a priestess” or NIN-diǧir, a kind of “female (high-)priestess” as well as various compounds with ama “mother”.15 The following are the female experts attested in the Old Babylopotamian “Enochic” tradition cp. below paragraph 6, also Badalanova-Geller, 2012 and now especially Orlov, 2017. 12 See on this topic Lenzi, 2008b. The so-called “Geheimwissen colophons” appear already in the second millennium. One of the oldest (Middle Babylonian, PBS 10/4 12 ll. 13–17) reads: “An expert may show an(other) expert. A non-expert shall not see it” (Lenzi, 2008b: 189). Note that here the Mesopotamian “sage” is described as a guardian and transmitter of arcane knowledge. This would become especially true in first millennium tradition. See Steinkeller, 2017: 67 with fn. 171 and 75–76 13 Even personal names normally do not help; but cp. Ur-DN “servant of DN (male)” vs. Geme2-DN “maiden of DN” (female). 14 Note that lukur = MUNUS+ME is actually a DIRI-writing with the implicit classification MUNUS = “woman; female”. Thus, the sign etymology is “woman (of) the (divine) ordinances.” 15 Cp. MSL 12 44–45: 319–343; note also terms like ama-er2-ra “Wailing Woman” (MSL 12 56: 659). It follows from the structure of Proto Lu2 (here an acrographic arrangement!) © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

21

nian Lexical List “Proto Lu2,” published by M. Civil as MSL 12 in 1969:16 1. ra-gaba vs. MUNUS ra-gaba “messenger” (MSL 12 33–34: 23. 24b); 2. Lu2-ur3-ra and MUNUS lu2-ur3-ra “spice miller” (MSL 12, 36: 100–100a); 3. lu2-kaškurun2-na vs. MUNUS lu2-kaškurun2-na “cup bearer” (MSL 12 36:102–103); 4. i3-du8 vs. MUNUS i3-du8 “gate keeper“ (MSL 12 37–38: 130. 142a); 5. MUNUS+LAGAR17 = /murub/ “a female priest” (MSL 12 41: 237–240); [enkum ninkum MSL 12 41:245–246]; 6. kisal-luḫ vs MUNUS kisal-luḫ “yard sweeper” (MSL 12 44: 317–318); 7. agrig vs MUNUS agrig18 “steward, housekeeper; chief temple accountant” (MSL XII 50: 492.494);19 8. ensi vs. MUNUS ensi “dream interpreter” (MSL 12 41: 242–242a and MSL 12 50: 499–500); 9. u2-ḫub2 vs. MUNUS u2-ḫub2 (MSL 12 52: 542–543), “deaf;” 10. geštu2-la2 vs MUNUS geštu2-la2 (MSL 12 52: 547–548), “attentive(?) woman;” 11. eš3-ta-la2 vs. MUNUS eš3-tala2 (MSL 12 54:585–586), probably “a type of singer;” 20 12. uzug2 vs. MUNUS uzug2, “a type of priest” (MSL XII 60: 742a–742b); 13. i3-sur vs that many such entries do NOT refer to proper professions /functions. The various arrangements in the Lexical Lists were recently studied by Wagensonner in his PhD dissertation 2016; on their hermeneutics see now Crisostomo, 2019. 16 Only after the completion of the present paper did I notice the interesting study of Lecompte 2016, which gives some additional information. Especially relevant are his list of priestesses in the Early Dynastic Cultic Personnel List (2016: 34–35) and in the ProtoLu2 list (2016: 38). His diachronical discussion of the categories of women in the canonical series Lu2 = ša provides a systematic thematical arrangement. My choice of Proto-Lu2 here is, of course, somewhat arbitrary, motivated by its accessibility, its setting in the scribal sphere, and the general frame of the present article. Note also the statement of Harris 1990: 4: “probably the only viable approach to the topic for now is by the way of the rich vocabulary for wisdom and its derivatives.” 17 The reading is perhaps /murub/; OB DIRI Oxford 400 provides SAL.LAGAR = e-nuum ša den-ki. The context – other male and female functionaries – suggests an interpretation like “a kind of priestess.” In OB Lu2 (MSL 12 41: 237–240) SAL+LAGAR is glossed by the Akkadian equivalents (the Sumerian reading being /murub/) pinku “knob;” qinnatum “buttocks; rump;” ḫurdatum “female genitals, vulva;” šuḫḫu(m) “buttocks; bottom.” Their relation to the alleged female office remains obscure. 18 There seems to be no Akkadian equivalent for this female profession; note, however, emiqtu and emuqtu with Sumerian (nam-)kug-zu associates “female housekeeper” with prudence (CAD E 149.157). 19 The inclusion of “a female housekeeper” or the like is certainly not motivated only by the “doublets” of these lists: the economic role of women is well-known, especially from third millennium sources. A name like NIN-gu2 -gal “The Lady (is) the Canal Inspector” vs. lugal-gu2-gal (Pomponio, 1987: 156.197) in the Fara period may indicate the active role of women in different fields of administration even then; cp. further: nin-e2-gal-le si “The Lady Fulfills her Function in the ‘Big House’ (palace or temple)” DP 110 5:2 et passim. 20 This is suggested by the lexical context as well as by the variant eš3-ta-lu2 = Akk. aštalû. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

22

Gebhard J. Selz

MUNUS i3-sur (MSL 12 61: 789–790), “oil presser.”21 A specific section of this list (MSL 12 58: 705–710) is reserved to females holding offices (MUNUS), such as 14. MUNUS a-zu “female doctor” and 15. MUNUS dub-sar “female scribe,” 16. MUNUS suhur-la2 and 17. MUNUS ki-ze2er-ak, both: “women with a specific hairdo”22 etc. Cp. further the fragmentary SAL (MUNUS) section MSL 12 65–66, including from MDP 27 194 (from Susa!) (7.) MUNUS agrig “steward, housekeeper; chief temple accountant” and (15.) MUNUS dub-sar “female scribe”. Similar sections are also preserved in the “canonical” edition of lu2 = ša, cp. MSL 12 104–105 (excerpt II)23 and MSL 12 123–125 (lu2 = ša III ii 6–20, 1’–20’), MSL 12 tablet IV 129: 23–28, 119.121.24 Note also that this list mentions many more female functionaries, especially at the beginning of tablet IV starting with 17. nin and followed by 18. nin/erešdiĝir, 19. lukur, and 20. nu-gig, which are all various female functionaries/ priestesses (MSL 12 128–129). Among the aforementioned female specialists, we find many which may be more precisely called “female experts:” for some, though not all, a connection to cultic activities and thus “wisdom” in a narrower sense is likely. 3. NUN.ME and related matters 3.1. NUN.ME is the earliest attested writing (Uruk III period, ZATU 15) for /abgal/ “sage” and as part of other terms for sages. It most probably is a DIRI writing which might be interpreted as “prince of the cosmic order / divine ordinances.25” The later form abgal2 = NUN.ME.KAxKAR2/PUZUR4/PU3 might implicitly refer to the utterings (prayers) typical of this profession. On the graphemic level the sign NUN establishes a connection with the god Enki / E’a,26 the god of the fresh waters, of creation (by the word), and of the magical and practical arts, and who bears the epithet nun “prince.” 27 The term /abgal/ also designates a 21

In Akk. ṣāḫitu. Note that further female functions are mentioned thereafter (MSL 12 59: 710a–717) including lukur-kaskal “priestess (of the) road,” dam-ban3-da “junior wife”, kar-ke4 “a prostitute.” 23 Note here especially ll. 17–21 (with Akkadian equations): MUNUS al-NU-NU “female threadmaker” MUNUS uḫ2-zu “sorceress,” MUNUS IGI.ŠID-e11-e-dè “the one who brings up ...” > “necromancer,” MUNUS šag4-zu “midwife,” MUNUS en-nu-un “nursemaid,” “kindergardener.” 24 Note also in Lu2-azlag2 = ašlaku MSL 12 158: 22.24.26 // 177 21.26.31, 204: 16–17, 207: 145–150. 25 Note also the writing for /lukur/ e.g. MUNUS:ME which might be understood as “woman of the cosmic order/divine ordinances.” 26 Also Steinkeller, 2017: 65.67. 27 Compare the comprehensive study of Espak, 2015. 22

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

23

priestly office – in the ED IIIb, a priestly office of Nanše28 – and, in later tradition, the typical “antediluvian sage.”29 Eventually /abgal/ became the standard emic Sumerian term for “sage,” and went as a loan into Akkadian (apkallu). In later texts it is often replaced by the Akkadian ummianum > ummânu, which in turn is also a loan from the Sumerian um-mi-a “expert craftsman”. The term /abgal/ is, as far as our documentation shows, reserved for male priests.30 Most likely the abgal – as the enkum (for ninkum, see below) – was originally linked to the theological sphere of Enki in Eridu, 31 to which the goddess Nanše and her Early Dynastic /abgal/ also belonged.32 In Akkadian contexts the term is regularly used for the ancient sages who shared their primordial wisdom with mankind, which, at least in the first millennium, was considered as a kind of “secret knowledge.” This notion is well attested in Berossos’ Babyloniaca. Iconographically, the apkallū were often represented as composite bird or fish-monsters, sometimes clearly as priests wearing corresponding costumes.33 Earlier texts describe the abgal as possessing distinctive long hair.34 The earliest reference of the seven apkallū – well known from later tradition – is in the Sumerian Temple Hymn (ETCSL 4.80.1) ll. 135–140: “O city, soaring up from the abzu like barley, cloudy plain, taking the divine powers from its midst, Ku’ara, your foundation and just banqueting hall, the lord who does not hold back his goods stands ready for admiration. The Seven Sages have enlarged it for you from the south to the uplands. Your prince, the most precious prince Asarluḫi.”

28 The relevant passages (DP 179 1:2, DP 180 1:2, DP 182 1:2, DP 220 1:7; RTC 44 2:9– 10 and VS 14/1 105 1:4, VS 14/1 1180 2: 1 et passim) were discussed by Foxvog, 2007. Note that the /abgal/ received wool and other rations at the inauguration of the eš3-gibild nanše “the New Sanctuary (of) Nanše.” 29 See also Steinkeller, 2017: 65–74. 30 Sumerian does not indicate gender. Note, however, that the goddesses Damkina and Gula both bear the title apkallatu “wise woman”: see CAD A/2, 171. 31 Foxvog, 2007. 32 The Early Dynastic Lagaš texts also show this connection. Nevertheless, there is no clear evidence connecting the /abgal/ with funerary activities, contrary to Steinkeller, 2017: 66 with fn.165. The interpretation of PSD A/2, 175–176 has no convincing basis. 33 Wiggermann, 1992: 46–49.75–77; also Foxvog, 2007; see below Ill. 1 and 2. 34 Nissaba Hymn A ll. 44–46 reads: abgal siki bar-ra du8-a-ni (ab-gal-lum ša pe-re-et-su2 a-na wa-ar-ki-i-šu i-na wu-uš-šu-ri-im) / e2 ĝeštug2-ga-ke4 ĝal2 taka4-a-ni (bi-it ˹uz-ni-im˺ i-na pe-te-e- ˹ša˺) / ĝišig ĝeštug2-ga sila-ba gub-ba-ni ([da]-la-at uz-ni-[im …]) “when the sage’s (abgal) hair is allowed to hang loose, when he (= Enki) opens the house of learning, when he stands in the street of the door of learning.”

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

24

Gebhard J. Selz

In later tradition the myth about the Seven sages became a salient ritual, literary, and iconographic theme.35 3.2. In contrast, the term gašam, “(to be) knowing, wise; sending, mission; work; craftsman, specialist” = Akk. mūdū; ummiānu; šipru, written with the DIRI compound NUN.ME.TAG, seems to focus on professional technical skills and often designates simply an experienced master craftsman. Compare, e.g. ur-dba-ba6 kug-dim2 gašam (Fö 106 4:2), where the term perhaps includes also KID2-alan “sculptor, mason” and ašgab “leather worker.” 3.3. An enigmatic functionary is termed /abrig/, wr. NUN.ME.DU and with phonetic component abrig2 (ábNUN.ME.DU), already attested in the Uruk III period (ZATU 16). The term is relevant here because Steinkeller recently (2017: 50) suggested that /abrig/ is a mere variant spelling of agrig “steward, housekeeper; chief temple accountant,” which of course does not preclude a priestly function. The connection to similar offices is attested in the Hymn Asarluḫi A 36 (ETCSL 40.01.1) in ll. 30–33: dasar-lu2-ḫi nir-ĝal2 / ˹enkum˺ ninkum / ˹abgal˺ abrig2 MUNUS.LAGAR.BAD MUNUS.LAGAR.ME EN X X X […] / ka kug ba-a-zu igi-bi ḫu-mu-un-˹ši˺-[ĝal2] “Lordly Asarluḫi! The enkum and ninkum priests, the abgal and abrig priests, the …… priestesses and the …… all pay attention when you open your holy mouth.” 3.4. Only rarely such “experts” explicitly are distinguished in writing as male and female, as the enkum and the ninkum. These otherwise rather enigmatic offices designated originally perhaps cultic functionaries:37 they are attested as early as the Uruk III period (ZATU 141 and 412). The written form of this later divinized pair is either (d)PAP.SIG7(.NUN.ME)38 or (d)PAP.SIG7.NUN.ME.UBARA. Old Babylonian Proto Lu2 gives some hint of their function (cp. also Krebernik 1984: 148–149): after SAL+LAGAR (see below) the list has (MSL 12, 41: 241–250) engiz “temple cook”, ensi / MUNUS ensi “(female) dream interpreter,” kišib-ĝal2 / kišib-la2, both: “seal bearer”, enkum / ninkum “…” / abgal “sage” / ábabrig “a

35

Cp. Reiner, 1961; a concise description is provided in Steinkeller, 2017: 70–74. Asarluḫi was a son of Enki/E’a, later sometimes merged with Marduk, thus part of the Enki or Eridu religious cycle. 37 Krebernik, 1984: 148 has convincingly argued that enkum = enkummu is a cultic functionary and “Schatzmeister”, “treasurer.” Cp. the complicated DIRI writings ENPAP-SIG7-NUN.ME-UBARA vs. NIN-PAP-SIG7-NUN.ME-UBARA; the writing may indicate a connection with PAP.SIG7 = ugāru, NUN.ME = abgal “wise” and ubara = kidinnu “protection.” Note that PAP.SIG7 are also elements of the DIRI writing Isimu/ Usmû (see following fn.). 38 Cp. also the writing for Enki’s double-faced vizier Isimu/Usmû and cp. fn. 37. 36

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

25

cultic functionary”;39 araus-mu 40 / MUNUS ara “…”, saǧa “temple administrator”. Like the abgal41, the enkum-ninkum pair has close connections with construction activities.42 The abgal seems to have been responsible for the architectural scheme of the building foundations; in other instances, he is also linked to extispicy. It may well be that the Lagaš attestations which mention the abgal in funerary contexts are related to these notions.43 3.5. Finally, we must mention the term um-mi-a, wr. um-mi-a; um-me-a “expert, master craftsman” which went as loan into Akkadian as ummânu.44 Like gašam this term stresses the mundane technical skills. It is relevant in our context because in the first millennium tradition about the sages, the abgals of the antediluvian age are in the postdiluvian period replaced by the ummânu.45 3.6. Our list focusing on wisdom and female “wise persons” is, admittedly, largely based on our modern notions. However, according to ePSD there are other terms which might be relevant here, like /dimma/ [THOUGHT] wr. dim2-ma; dimma “thought, planning; instruction” Akk. ṭēmu; /ĝalga/ [FORETHOUGHT] wr. ĝalga; ma-al-ga “(fore)thought, plan(ning); understanding; instruction, advice” Akk. milku; ṭēmu or /umuš/ “(fore)thought, plan(ning); understanding; instruction; consideration, sagacity” Akk. ṭēmu, and also /nam/ [THOUGHT] wr. nam2 “(fore)thought, plan(ning); understanding; instruction” Akk. ṭēmu. As systematic research for these terms is not yet available I simply mention the Early Dynastic

39 Note that Steinkeller, 2017:50 suggests that /abrig/ might be identical with the later agrig, the “chief accountant of temple households.” 40 The gloss indicated that /ara/ is here an alternative writing for the usual DIRI (d)PAP. SIG7.(NUN(.ME)), Enki/E’a’s double-faced vizier Isimu/Usmû. Was this figure originally bisexual? The background for this parallel is obscure. 41 For /abgal/ see Foxvog, 2007 and most recently Steinkeller, 2017: 33.68–69) who suggests an identification with the “Nagelmensch,” e.g. foundation figurines from the Early Dynastic period (cp. Asher-Greve (forthcoming)). His proposal seems convincing in so far as the “Nagelmensch” combines both the Abgal’s attested building activities and his description as being long-haired. This might even lead to an etymology of /abgal/, “(the one responsible) the great openings (ab = aptu) (of a foundation).” This fits nicely with the passage of Gudea Cylinder A 22: 11–17 quoted by Steinkeller, 2017: 68. 42 Steinkeller, 2017: 65–66, also Krebernik, 1984: 147–149. Cp. also Steinkeller, 2017: 66 quoting Amar-Suena A ll. 15–16: “In the fourth year it (the temple) remained in ruins, and he did not restore it. Although he had been advised (?) by a sage, he could not realize the plans of the temple.” 43 Note the reference to the gi-den.ki in Ukg as a sort of burial(?): also Steinkeller, 2017: 31 fnn. 41–43. 44 Note that um-mi-a nin-me in Ur III documents means “they are experts (attached to) the queen;” cp. PDT 2, 911 r ii 13 and cp. r ii 18. 45 Selz, 2011a: 793; Steinkeller, 2017: 67.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

26

Gebhard J. Selz

personal name nin-ma-al-ga-sud “the Lady (has) Far-reaching (Fore)thoughts / Instructions” (DP 118 6:5 et passim). 4. Enḫedu’ana as literata The first attested historical author is the female writer En-ḫedu-ana.46 At least from a modern view point, she must be considered an outstanding female sage. She was appointed by her father Sargon of Agade as a High Priestess in Ur. She seems to have played a major role in pacifying the Sumerian temple personnel in the Mesopotamian south, who obstinately opposed the new Akkadian rule. For this purpose, she applied syncretistic policies, merging Akkadian and Sumerian religious traditions. “She holds her office under the reign of Naram-Sîn and even Rīmuš. During the latter’s reign she was involved in politics, eventually expelled from her office and thereafter re-installed.” (Cp. D. Frayne, 1997: RIME 2 1.1.16 (p. 35f.)). It is probably in this tradition that according to a literary letter Ninšagtapada, daughter of Sînkāšid, appealed to Rīm-Sîn of Larsa to restore her to her priestly office again (Hallo, 1991). 5. Female sages and wisdom goddesses: Nanše and Nissaba The gender-specific applications of some of the designations for “sages” discussed above remain often uncertain. But in Sumerian literature we find various references to the “experienced (old), wise woman” designated firstly by um-ma, which can also simply refer to any old woman, and secondly by bur-šu-ma, which specifically implies an elderly woman of great influence and high rank –hence its suggested translation as “matriarch” or the like. 5.1. um-ma (Akk. šībtu), the “experienced old, wise woman” In the Curse of Agade (ETCSL 2.1.5.) we find: “She (Inana) endowed its (= Agade’s) old women (um-ma) with the gift of counsel, she endowed its old men with the gift of eloquence.” (ll. 29–30) 46

There is much secondary literature about or mentioning Enḫedu’ana: see, e.g. Winter, 1987, Westenholz, 1989, and Peirce, 2000 (1995): 2266. Mesopotamian tradition ascribes the following compositions to her: 1. The Sumerian Temple Hymns. 2. Nin-me-šara, The Exaltation of Inana, in which, after addressing the goddess, Enḫedu’ana speaks in the first person expressing her sorrow over her expulsion from the temples of Ur and Uruk. In her law case she appeals for help from the moon-god Nanna. 3. In-Nin šà(g)-gur-ra (named by incipit), a hymn praising Inana and the piety of Enḫedu’ana in which she expresses her final triumph in her religio-political struggle. 4. Nin me-ḫuš-a, Inanna and Ebiḫ, in which the goddess, speaking in the first person, describes her victory over the rebellious Amorite mountaineers. 5. Some hymnal fragments to Nanna and to Enḫedu’ana, apparently by an anonymous composer, are indicating her apotheosis (ed. by Westenholz, 1989: 540 and 550–556). – An original inscription of Enḫedu’ana is preserved on her famous “disk”, see Fig. 3. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

27

According to Enmerkar and Ensuḫgirana (ETCSL 1.8.2.4) the wise woman (um-ma) Saĝburu wins a contest against a male sorcerer from Aratta. Lines 249– 263 of the text read: “What happened made the face of the sorcerer darken, made his mind confused. – Wise Woman Saĝburu said to him: ‘Sorcerer, you do have magical powers, but where is your sense? How on earth could you think of going to do sorcery at Ereš, which is the city of Nissaba, a city whose destiny was decreed by An and Enlil, the primeval city, the beloved city of Ninlil?’ The sorcerer answered her: ‘I went there without knowing all about this. I acknowledge your superiority please do not be bitter.’ He pleaded, he prayed to her: ‘Set me free, my sister; set me free. Let me go in peace to my city. Let me return safely to Aratta, the mount of the lustrous me. I will make known your greatness in all the lands. I will sing your praise in Aratta, the mount of the lustrous me.’” The reference to the city of Ereš and its patron goddess Nissaba recalls that Nissaba, who is also the goddess of the scribal art, and some other female deities, including Ĝeštinana, Nanše, and Nunbar-šegunu are often addressed as dreaminterpreters and experts in scribal art, as will be discussed below. A divine um-ma is mentioned in Enlil and Ninlil (ETCSL 1.2.1). Ninlil’s mother Nunbar-šegunu – “she was one of its wisest women” (dnun-bar-še-gu-nu um-ma-bi na-nam, l. 12) – warned her to avoid the ‘red light district’ at the river: “Ninlil was advised by Nunbaršegunu: ‘The river is shining/holy, woman! The river is shining/holy – don’t bathe in it! Ninlil, don’t walk along the bank of the Id-nunbir-tum! His eye is bright, the lord’s eye is bright, he will look at you! The Great Mountain, Father Enlil – his eye is bright, he will look at you! The shepherd who decides all destinies – his eye is bright, he will look at you! Straight away he will want to have intercourse, he will want to kiss! He will be happy to pour lusty semen into the womb, and then he will leave you to it!’ She advised her from the heart, she gave wisdom to her.” (ll. 13–22) 5.2. ensi, the “dream interpreter” The function of a (divine) wise woman as dream interpreter is well attested. Known divine female dream interpreters and acknowledged experts in the scribal art are the earlier-listed Ĝeštinana, Nanše, the goddess of the scribal art herself Nissaba, and Nunbar-šegunu, probably a Nippurean emanation of Nissaba. In Dumuzid’s Dream (ETCSL 1.4.3) Dumuzid is alarmed by his portentous dream and urges, “Bring, bring, bring my sister! Bring my Ĝeštinana, bring my sister! Bring my scribe proficient in tablets (dub-sar im zu), bring my sister! Bring my singer expert in songs (nar èn-du-zu), bring my singer! Bring my perspica© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

28

Gebhard J. Selz

cious girl (lu2-ban3-da-šag4-inim-ma-zu), bring my sister! Bring my wise woman who knows the meanings of dreams (um-ma šag4-ma-mu2-da-zu), bring my sister! I will relate the dream to her.” (ll. 19–21) 5.3. bur-šu-ma, the matriarch In the Nanše Hymn A (ETCSL 4.14.1): “The dream interpreter (ensi, Nanše) went into the sacristy and made glittering silver ešde cups ready for her. (…) After the meat had arrived in large bowls and cool water had been brought from the Sirara-canal, after the festival trappings had arrived from Lagaš and wine had been brought from the countryside, her great oven which vies with the great dining hall, Nanše’s shrine of food offerings, was humming. The lady, the matriarch (bur-šu-ma) of Enlil, Nanše, the lady of abundance who lives in the Land.” (ll. 47–60) Nanše is the goddess of the marshlands, perhaps a kind of deified “undine” (cp. Heimpel 1998). Her specific domains are the fish and the birds. In ll. 96–112 Nanše-Hymn A (ETCSL 4.14.1) states that Nissaba and her husband Ḫajja (in Sumerian Indagra47) assisted her in administering the household. Ḥajja as well as Ḫajja are probably Semitic loans (in different periods) from *ḥjj “to live.” Lines 37–52 of a poem in praise of Enlil-bāni (Enlil-bāni A, ETCSL 2.5.8.1) prove that Nissaba is the mother-in-law of Enlil:48 “Nissaba, Lady Nanibgal,49 the matriarch, the mother-in-law of Enlil, the lady …… who creates(?) life ……, the book-keeper ……, the wise one, the holy woman ……, …… the oracle, has placed his (?) name on the tablet of life.” Nanše and Nissaba are mentioned in the Cylinders of Gudea. Gudea had a dream-vision which he could not understand and therefore turned for help to the goddess Nanše, “the dream-interpreter of the gods.” The goddesses’ interpretation of Gudea’s dream reads in part: “The young woman coming forward, who did something with sheaves, who was holding a stylus of shining metal, had on her knees a tablet (with) stars, which she was consulting – she was in fact my sister Nissaba-k; she announced to you the propitious star (auguring) 50 the building of the 47

Cp. Selz, 2002. nissaba / nin dnanibgal2-e / bur-šu-um / ušbarbar den-lil2-la2 / nin X BA [X] / X zi u3˹tud?˺-[da] / saĝ-tun3 […] / šu-gi […] / munus kug X [X X] / […] ĝiškim BU? MA / im nam-til3-la-ka / mu- ˹ni?˺ bi2-in-gub / ad gi4-gi4 / ba-an-gi4 ma-ra-ni-pad3 / nam-igi-ĝal2 / saĝ-e-eš mu-ra-rig7 49 For this epithet see McEwan, 1998. 50 Craig Crossen reminds me: “The context sounds like astrology rather than augury”. 48 d

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

29

House. Furthermore, as for the warrior who bent his arm holding a lapis lazuli tablet – he was Nindub(-ak): he was engraving thereon in all details the ground-plan of the House.” (Gud. Cyl. A 5:21–6:5, Edzard, 1997: 72– 73) The stars of heaven are here perceived as divine writing providing ominous signs and revealing divine schemes (ĝarza). The underlying notion is that of the sky as the tablet of the gods. The name of the semi-precious stone lapis-lazuli is in fact the only attested word for blue in Sumerian. The ‘Me’ here refers explicitly to the temple: that they are connected to the heavenly Nissaba and her writing can be demonstrated by other texts. Nissaba, the heavenly scribe: In Nissaba A (nin mul-an-gin7, (ETCSL 4.16.1:) the first line reads (Old Babylonian version): “Mistress, spotted like the sparkling stars, holding a blue (lapis-lazuli) tablet in the hands.” In the older Ur III version ll. 1–3 are: “Mistress, spotted sparkling star, holding a lapis-lazuli tablet in the hand, Nissaba-k (goddess of barley distribution and writing).” Nissaba’s connection with the Heavenly Writing is also attested in the text Ninurta’s Exploits (ETCSL 1.6.2), in which ll. 698–711 not only describe Nissaba as mul-an “heavenly star” and allude to her “wisdom,” but specifically call her the “lady of the ‘Me’” and designate her as responsible for the offices of the rulers. Nanše, Nissaba’s sister, is a sage because she is Enki’s daughter. Enki’s chief domain was the sweet underground waters (abzu). By the middle of the third millennium Enki was already widely known under his Akkadian name (d)e2-a < Ḥajja. 5.4. Nissaba, the goddess of barley and scribal arts, and her evolution into a divine female sage Some 25 years ago I proposed that the well-known traits of Nissaba as goddess of barley, of the scribal art, and finally wisdom relate to the emergence of cuneiform writing (Selz 1989). That Nissaba possessed a pre-eminent position in scribal training is also corroborated by the name of the institution E2-GEŠTU2. d NISSABA “Nissaba’s house of wisdom” which, in contrast to the school, the e2dub-ba-a, may have specifically functioned as a scriptorium.51 Syllabic writing of the name, which is almost certainly a genitive compound, prompted me to propose an etymology for it: Nissaba-ak > *nin-še-ba-ak “Lady of the Barley Ration (Tablets),”52 As far as I can see, this is still the only way to explain Nissaba’s 51

This is reminiscent of the Arabic bait al-ḥikma “House of Wisdom” founded by the Caliph al-Mam’ūn (813–833) in Baghdad as a place for the translation of Syro-Aramaic literature. 52 It may well be that the elaborate sign for Nissaba used by a late Early Dynastic scribe from Girsu – in a colophon of the lexical text ED Lu A – iconographically relates to the proposed etymology of the goddess, Erm 15000 (see Šilejko, 1915: 6); cp. Ill 4. The colophon reads: “(For) Nissaba(k): Lugalušumgal, ruler (ensi2) (of) La[gas].” See Wagensonner, 2016: 33 and here Fig. 4 for a copy of the goddess’ name. Wagensonner considers © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

30

Gebhard J. Selz

seemingly diverse features (see Appendix). Moreover, when one compares these features with the conceptual frame in which the divine female sages are mentioned, it is clear that Nissaba’s responsibilities are connected to them. This interpretation is strongly supported by the meaning of her husband’s name: dindagra > d (n)indagar “(The one) who sets out barley (measures)” or “(The one) who delivers bread (rations)” (see Selz, 2002). The name Indagra was often, even at a very early stage, replaced by his Semitic name form dḪa-ia3. Thus, Nissaba’s husband is both, by marriage and by etymology, related to Enki / E’a Ḥajja.53 However, an explanation for the fact that a female deity embodies all these traits is required. The proposed evolution of Nissaba’s responsibilities implies that household economics were its basis. This is supported by the fact that some of the more important early temple households are dominated by women; the economic role of the priestesses in Old Babylonian Sippar might be a sequel. My suggestion is that the late Early Dynastic situation where females, e.g. the queens, were in charge of large households and thus of a major sector of the economy54 reflects an even earlier tradition55 in which the head of such households was (normally) not the paterfamilias, but the materfamilias. This is mirrored in much of our textual and literary documentation, even after patriarchal concepts changed the organization of society at the turn of the 3rd millennium to the 2nd millennium. Of course, “experienced, wise women” were always responsible for much more than economics. Their experience made them well-suited to deal with many human woes. Even troubled Dumuzid, haunted by the demons, resorted, though unsuccessfully, to the house of the Old Woman Belili. 6. Changes in and the afterlife of the “sage” concept Certainly, female sages were never considered the exclusive possessors of wisdom, even though for three millennia Nissaba enjoyed a rather prominent position among the literati. However, already in Old Babylonian times “the patronage over writing was increasingly taken over by Nabû” (Michalowski, 2001: 579). Because Nabû was a son of Marduk, himself being a son of Enki / E’a, the general religious landscape remained virtually unchanged except that a male god partially replaced a goddess.56 This change might be attributed to the disappearance of Nissaba’s

this prism a “Schreiberübung” (Wagensonner, 2016: 32–33). 53 The assumption here is that Ḥajja and Ḫajja belong to the same Semitic root “to live,” though borrowed in distinct periods from different linguistic environments. 54 Even the economic role of the nadītu in Old Babylonian Sippar might be related to such older traditions. Cp. further Lion, 2001; Colbow, 2002; Lion, 2011: 99–100. For Old Babylonian Mari see Ziegler, 1999 and 2016. 55 For the mirroring of society in the divine sphere cp. Lambert, 1987 and Selz, 2012. Contrast my hypothesis with the fine study of Matuszak, 2016. 56 Michalowski mentions the fact that Nissaba is attested alongside Nabû as late as Merodach-Baladan I and Nabopolassar (Michalowski, 2001: 579). © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

31

cult center Ereš from the religious landscape (Michalowski, 2001: 579); but the change in the gender of the scribal deity might also be linked to the social changes observable at the beginning of the Old Babylonian period. In fact, the female housekeepers, the nadītu women, “and the female scribes apparently disappeared with the growing concentration of property in the hands of a few male administrators” (Harris, 1990: 6–7). This might also be reflected in the increasing importance of the male mythologized apkallū who later were considered to be the primary preservers and transmitters of knowledge. This is highlighted by Borger’s seminal article from 1962 linking Enmeduranki of the Antediluvian King List57 with the Biblical Enoch, and other studies on the tradition of the antediluvian sages by van Dijk58 and Lambert59. In his 1962 article Lambert also showed that the primeval sage UD-ana is the Sumerian form and the blueprint for Berossos’60 Oannes. According to the ingenious study of Annus, 2016, the connection of Oannes with the mythical sage, Adapa,61 became much clearer. First of all, Annus refers to the fact that there existed two different versions of the Adapa myth, one in which the hero was by the sky god Anu send back from heaven to earth and on in which he remained in Heaven and even sits on Anu’s throne. This unexpected fate of Adapa is described in fragment D (K 8214 from Assurbanipal’s library) in which Adapa is mentioned to be assigned by Anu as heavenly “watchman” “for ever” ([inūm]išu dAnu ša Adapa elīšu maṣṣarta iš[kun].62 Thus the Enochic sage is not only connected to Enmeduranki, but also to the figure of Adapa.

57

On which see Steinkeller, 2017: 58–61; Lenzi, 2008a. Van Dijk, 1962: 44–52; see also Lenzi, 2008a: 144–147 and Lenzi, 2008b: 107–109, Steinkeller, 2017: 70–74 and 74–77. 59 Lambert, 1957, 1962 and esp. 1967. 60 Compare the edition of Berossos’ Babyloniaca in Schnabel, 1923 and Burstein, 1978. 61 I would like to note in passing, that in all likelihood the etymology of the name Adapa is indeed related to Akk. edēpu “to blow (away),” and specifically referring to the exorcist’s blowing away the evil spirits (Annus, 2016: 2–3). The connection to the name form u3-tu-a-ab-ba “Born in the Ocean” or a-da-pa3 “Drawn out of the Water” reflect ancient etymological speculations. Such are often easily dismissed, but in my opinion they are highly important because they do attest to a typical and very basic procedure of Mesopotamian hermeneutics. In our case, the links to the topics of the Adapa myth are obvious. 62 K 8214 rev 9’; see Annus, 2014: 82. Annus makes explicit reference to Kvanvig, 2011 who first drew our attention to the focus shift attested by the Akkadian fragment in question. Kvanvig, 2011: 123: “The focus is no longer that Adapa got wisdom and not eternal life. The focus is the elevation of Adapa as the one among humans who stayed in heaven with Anu forever.” – It is interesting to not here also that Annus, correctly in my view, connects the Adapa story of the “overturned boat” with the heavenly ascend of (some) Sumerian kings and their context with the ‘heavenly boat’ (ma2-an-na), first studied by Steinkeller, 2013 and Selz, 2014: 63–65. 58

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

32

Gebhard J. Selz

The longevity of this tradition around the human and divine “sages” is attested in two quite different ways: first, Nabû was popular in regions outside Mesopotamia even down to the Christian era (Pomponio, 1998: 23–24); and second, the entire Enochic tradition63 shows a strong Mesopotamian background.64 Annus’ suggestion – based on the two versions of the Adapa myth and his suggestions that Adapa, according to some sources, was perceived as “son of Oannes” enables him to draw a picture of Adapa which reads like a blueprint for the most salient traits of the Enoch figure (Annus 2016: esp. 29–31, 102–103). Further, several features earlier connected with the goddess Nissaba65 are also attested for Enoch; specifically, Enoch is called “the noted/great scribe” (safra rabba); and as a sage he functions as an interpreter of dreams and of the ‘heavenly tablets.’66 3 Enoch and the Enochic traditions transformed him into the angel Meṭaṭron, a name of uncertain etymology67 which nevertheless has prompted many speculations.68 Recently Geller, 2017 attempted to trace it over several well attested linguistic changes back to the Sumerian Enmeduranki resp. Enmeduranna, thus suggesting an additional link between the Mesopotamian and Enochic traditions.

63

Most notably of course the books of Enoch: 1: Enoch, or the Book of Enoch, is an apocryphal book in the Ethiopic Bible (in Ge’ez) usually dated between the third century BC and first century CE. Qumran mss. attest to an Hebrew source. 2: Enoch is an apocryphal book in the Old Slavonic Bible dated to the first century CE (now contested by A. Orlov). 3: Enoch is a Kabbalistic Rabbinic text in Hebrew usually dated to the fifth century CE. 64 See Borger, 1962; Lambert, 1967; Kvanvig, 1988, idem, 2011; Orlov, 2005, idem, 2017; also Selz, 2011a and Badalnova-Geller, 2012: 224–226. It must be underlined here, that recent studies, most notably Annus, 2016 demonstrated beyond doubt that the Mesopotamian ‘stream of tradition’ leading to the Enochic chronotope is much broader and deeper than previously conceived. 65 Compare Selz, 1989, Michalowski, 2001 and idem, 2002. 66 Attested already in the Qumran mss.: see 4Q530 2:11.3: 3. 67 Cp. Scholem, 1971: 1445–1446: “The origin of the name Metatron is obscure, and it is doubtful whether an etymological explanation can be given.” Orlov, 2005: 97 writes: “Jewish apocryphal literature describes the prophet Enoch working as a scribe prior to his transformation into the angel Metatron: The theme of Enoch-Metatron’s scribal functions became a prominent motif in the later rabbinic traditions, where (...) the privilege of sitting beside God was accorded to Metatron alone by virtue of his character as a scribe, for he was granted permission as a scribe to sit and write down the merits of Israel.” He continues: “The important aspect of the early portrayals of Enoch as a scribe is that they depict him in the capacity of both celestial and terrestrial scribe, as the one who not only records messages from his heavenly guides, but also composes petitions at the request of the creatures from the lower realms.” 68 A concise overview of these etymologies is given in Orlov, 2005: 92–96. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

33

Be that as it may, I hope I have shown that, though her economic role seems to have been lost, most features of the prototypical divine female sage Nissaba were transferred to male sages. Abbreviations CAD I.J. Gelb et al. (eds.): The Assyrian Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Chicago 1956ff. DP M.F. Allotte de la Fuÿe: Documents présargoniques. Paris 1908–1920. ePSD Electronic Pennsylvania Sumerian Dictionary Project (http://psd.mu seum.upenn.edu/epsd/index.html). ETCSL J. Black et al.: The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature. http://www-etcsl.orient.ox.ac.uk. Fö W. Förtsch: Altbabylonische Wirtschaftstexte aus der Zeit Lugalandas und Urukaginas. Leipzig 1916. Gud.Cyl. Gudea Cylinder. MSL Materialien zum sumerischen Lexikon. PBS University of Pennsylvania, Publications of the Babylonian Section. PDT 2 F. Yıldız / T. Gomi: Die Puzris-Dagan-Texte der Istanbuler Archäologischen Museen, Teil II: Nr. 726–1379. Freiburger Altorientalische Studien 16. Stuttgart 1988. PSD The Sumerian Dictionary of the University Museum of the University of Pennsylvania. Philadelphia 1984 ff. RIME The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia, Early Periods. RTC F. Thureau-Dangin: Recueil des tablettes chaldéennes. Paris 1903. VS Vorderasiatische Schriftdenkmäler der Königlichen/Staatlichen Museen zu Berlin. Bibliography Annus, A., (ed.): 2010: Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient World. Oriental Institute Seminars 6. Chicago: Oriental Institute. — 2016: The Overturned Boat. Intertextuality of the Adapa Myth and Exorcistic Literature. State Archives of Assyria, Studies 24. Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project. Asher-Greve, J., forthcoming: “‘OUT OF SIGHT’. Complex Interplay Between Invisibility, Figurality and Identity of Foundation Figures”. In Festschrift für Erika Bleibtreu. Badalanova-Geller, F., 2012: “Heavenly Writings: Celestial Cosmography”. In The Book of the Secrets of Enoch. Starobŭlgarska Literatura [Старобългарска литература] 45–46: 197–244. Berkhofer, R., 1988: “The Challenge of Poetics to (Normal) Historical Practice”. Poetics Today Vol. 9, No. 2: 435–452

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

34

Gebhard J. Selz

Borger, R., 1974: “Die Beschwörungsserie Bīt Mēseri und die Himmelfahrt Henochs”. Journal of Near Eastern Studies 33, 183–196. Burstein, Stanley M., 1978: The Babyloniaca of Berossus. Sources and Monographs, Sources from the Ancient Near East, 1/5. Malibu, California: Undena Publications. Charpin, D., 2009–2011: “Schreiber B”. In Reallexikon der Assyriologie 12, 266– 269. Civil, M., 1969: The Materials for the Sumerian Lexicon (MSL) 12: The Series lú = ša and Related Texts. Roma: Pontificium Institutum Biblicum. Colbow, G., 2002: “Priestesses, either married or unmarried, and spouses without titles: their seal use and their seals in Sippar at the beginning of the second millennium BC”. In S. Parpola / R.M. Whiting (eds.): Sex and Gender in the Ancient Near East. CRRAI 47. Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project. Pp. 85–90. Cooper, J.S., 1997: “Gendered Sexuality in Sumerian Love Poetry”. In I.L. Finkel / M.J. Geller (eds.): Sumerian Gods and Their Representations. Groningen: Styx. Pp. 85–97. Crisostomo, J., 2019: Translation as Scholarship. Language, Writing, and Bilingual Education in Ancient Babylonia. Studies in Ancient Near Eastern Records 22. Berlin/Boston: De Gruyter. De Graef, K., 2016: “Cherchez la femme! The Economic Role of Women in Old Babylonian Society”. In Lion/Michel, 2016. Pp. 270–295. Edzard, D.O., 1997: Gudea and His Dynasty, RIME vol. 3/1. Toronto. Espak, P., 2015: The God Enki in Sumerian Royal Ideology and Mythology. Philippika 87. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. — 2017: Male Sages in Sumerian Literature. Pp. 43–51 in this volume. Foxvog, D.A., 2007: Abgal’s and Carp Actors. NABU 2007: 67, pp.80–81. Geller, M., 2017: (On Enmeduranna/Enmeduranki and Meṭaṭron). Lecture delivered at the Scriptura Franca conference in Oslo, June 2017. Hallo, W.W., 1976: “Women of Sumer”. In D. Schmandt-Besserat (ed.): The Legacy of Sumer. Bibliotheca Mesopotamica, 4. Malibu, California: Undena Publications. Pp. 129–138. — 1991. “The Royal Correspondence of Larsa: III. The Princess and the Plea”. In D. Charpin / F. Joannès (eds.): Marchands, Diplomates et Empreneurs: Études sur la civilisation Mésopotamienne offertes á Paul Garelli. Paris: Éditions Recherche sur les Civilisations. Pp. 377–388 (reprinted in Hallo, W.W.: The World Oldest Literature, pp. 369–383. Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2010). Finkelstein, J., 1963: “The Antediluvian Kings: A University of California Tablet”. Journal of Cuneiform Studies 17, 39–5. Frayne, D., 1997: The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia, Ur III period, RIME 3/2. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

35

Harris, R., 1964: “The Nadītu Women”. In J.A. Brinkman (ed.): Studies Presented A. Leo Oppenheim. Chicago: The Oriental Institute. Pp. 106–135. — 1975: Ancient Sippar: A Demographic Study of an Old Babylonian City (1894–1595). Istanbul: The Nederlans Historisch-Archaeologisch Instituut. — 1990: “The Female ‘Sage’ in Mesopotamian Literature”. In J.G. Gammie / L.G. Perdue (eds.): The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns. Pp. 3–17. Heimpel, W., 1998: “Nanše. A”. Reallexikon der Assyriologie 9, 152–160. Koch, U.S., 2010: “Three Strikes and You’re out! A view on cognitive theory and the first-millennium extispicy ritual”. In Annus, 2010. Pp. 43–59. Kvanvig, H., 1988: Roots of Apocalyptic. The Mesopotamian Background of the Enoch Figure and the Son of Man. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag. — 2011: Primeval History: Babylonian, Biblical, and Enochic: An Intertextual Reading. Leiden: Brill Lambert, W.G., 1957: “Ancestors, Authors, and Canonicity”. Journal of Cuneiform Studies 11, 1–14, 112. — 1962: “A Catalogue of Texts and Authors”. Journal of Cuneiform Studies 16:,59–77. — 1967: “Enmeduranki and Related Matters”. Journal of Cuneiform Studies 21, 126–138. — 1987: “Goddesses in the Pantheon: A Reflection of Women in Society?” In J.M. Durand (ed.) : La Femme Dans le Proche-Orient Antique. CRRAI 33. Paris: Éditions Recherche sur les Civilizations. Pp. 125–130. Lecompte, C., 2016: “Representation of Women in Mesopotamian Lexical Lists”. In Lion/Michel, 2016. Pp. 29–56. Lenzi, A., 2008a: “The Uruk List of Kings and Sages and Late Mesopotamian Scholarship”. Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Religions 8/2, 137–169. — 2008b: Secrecy and the Gods. Secret Knowledge in Ancient Mesopotamia and Biblical Israel. State Archive of Assyria Studies 19. Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project. Lion, B., 2001: “Dame Inanna-ama-mu, scribe à Sippar”. Revue d’Assyriologie et d’archéologie orientale 95/1, 7–32. — 2008: “Les femmes et l’écrit en Mesopotamie: auteurs, commanditaires d’inscriptions et scribes”. In J.J. Justel et al. (eds.): Las culturas del Próximo Oriente Antiguo y su expansión mediterránea. Zaragoza; Instituto de Estudios Islámicos y del Oriente Próximo. Pp. 53–68. Lion, B., 2011: “Literacy and Gender”. In Radner/Robson, 2011. Pp. 90–112. Lion, B. / Michel, C., (eds.), 2016: The Role of Women in Work and Society in the Ancient Near East. Studies in Ancient Near Eastern Records 13. Boston/Berlin: DeGruyter. Lion, B. / Robson, E., 2005: “Quelques textes scolaires paléo-babyloniens rédigés par des femmes”. Journal of Cuneiform Studies 57, 37–54.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

36

Gebhard J. Selz

Matuszak, J., 2016: “‘She is not fit for womanhood’: The Ideal Housewife According to Sumerian Literary Sources”. In Lion/Michel, 2016. Pp. 228–254. McEwan, G.J.P., 1998: “Nanibgal”. Reallexikon der Assyriologie 9, 151. Michalowski, P., 2001: “Nisaba.A. Philologisch”. Reallexikon der Assyriologie 9, 575–579. — 2002: “Round about Nidaba: on the early goddesses of Sumer”. In S. Parpola / R. Whiting (eds.): Sex and Gender in the Ancient Near East. CRRAI 47. Helsinki: Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project. Pp. 413–422. Nemet-Nejat, K.R., 2002: Daily Life in Ancient Mesopotamia. Peabody: Hendrickson. Orlov, A.A., 2005: The Enoch-Metatron Tradition. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. — 2017: Yahoel and Metatron. Aural apocalypticism and the origins of early Jewish mysticism. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Radner, K. / Robson, E., 2011: The Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Peirce, L.E., 2000 (1995): “The Scribes and Scholars of Ancient Mesopotamia”. In J. Sasson (ed.) 1995 (2000): Civilizations of the Ancient Near East. Peabody: Hendrickson (New York: Scribner). Pp. 2265–2278. Pomponio, F., 1987: “La Prosopografia dei Testi Presargonici di Fara”. Studi Semitici NS 3. Roma: Universitá degli Studi “La Sapienza”. — 1998: Nabû A. Philologisch”. Reallexikon der Assyriologie 9, 17–24. Reiner, E., 1961: “The Etiological Myth of the ‘Seven Sages’”. Orientalia Nova Series 30, 1–11. Rochberg, F., 2004: The Heavenly Writing. Divination, Horoscopy, and Astronomy in Mesopotamian Culture. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Schnabel, P., 1923: Berossus und die babylonisch-hellenistische Literatur, Leipzig: B.G. Teubner. Scholem, G., 1971: “Metatron”. Encyclopedia Judaica 11, 1445–1446. Sefati, Y., 1998: Love Songs in Sumerian Literature. Critical Edition of the Dumuzi-Inanna Songs. Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press. Selz, G.J., 1989: “Nissaba(k), ‚Herrin der Getreidezuteilungen‘”. In H. Behrens et al. (eds.): Dumu-E2-Dub-Ba-A: Studies in Honor of Åke W. Sjöberg. Occasional Publications of the Samuel Noah Kramer Fund 11. Philadelphia: The University Museum. Pp. 491–497. — 2002: “‚Babilismus‘ und die Gottheit dnindagar”. In O. Loretz / K.A. Metzler / H. Schaudig (eds.): Ex Mesopotamia et Syria Lux. Festschrift für Manfried Dietrich. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 281. Münster: Ugarit. Pp. 647– 684. — 2005: Sumerer und Akkader. Geschichte – Gesellschaft – Kultur. München: C.H. Beck. — 2011a: “Of Heroes and Sages–Considerations of the Early Mesopotamian Background of Some Enochic Traditions”. In A. Lange et al. (eds.): The Dead

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

37

Sea Scrolls in Context, vol. 2. Leiden: Brill. Pp. 779–800. — 2011b: “Remarks on the Empirical Foundation and Scholastic Traditions of Early Mesopotamian Acquisition of Knowledge”. In G. J. Selz / K. Wagensonner (eds.): The Empirical Dimension of Ancient Near Eastern Studies / Die empirische Dimension altorientalischer Forschungen. Wiener Offene Orientalistik 10. Wien: LIT. Pp. 48–70. — 2012: “Götter der Gesellschaft – Gesellschaft der Götter. Zur Dialektik von Abbildung und Ordnung”. In H. Neumann (ed.): Wissenskultur im Alten Orient. Colloquien der Deutschen Orient Gesellschaft 4. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Pp. 61–86. — 2014: “The Tablet with ‘Heavenly Writing’, or how to become a star”. In A. Panaino (ed.): Non licet stare caelestibus. Studies on Astronomy and Its History Offered to Salvo De Meis. Sesto San Giovanni. Pp 51–67. — 2018: “Aesthetics”. (Chapter 15) in A. Gunter (ed.): A Companion to the Art of the Ancient Near East. Hoboken, New Jersey: Wiley-Blackwell. Pp. 359– 381. Šilejko, V.K., 1915: Votivnie nadpisi šumerijskich pravitelej. Petrograd. Steinkeller, P., 2013: “How did Šulgi and Išbi-Erra ascend to heaven?” In D. Vanderhoft / A. Winitzer (eds.): Literature as Politics, Politics as Literature. Essays on the Ancient Near East in Honor of Peter Machinist. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns. Pp. 459–468. — 2017: History, Texts, and Art in Early Babylonia. Studies in Ancient Near Eastern Records 15. Boston, Berlin: De Gruyter. Strommenger, E., 1962: Fünf Jahrtausende Mesopotamien. München: Hirmer. Van Dijk, J.J.A., 1962: “Die Inschriftenfunde”. In Vorläufiger Bericht über … die Ausgrabungen in Uruk-Warka 18: 44–52 and pl. 27. Waetzoldt, H., 1973: Das Schreiberwesen in Mesopotamien (unpubl. Habilitationsschrift Heidelberg). — 2009–2011: Schreiber. A, Reallexikon der Assyriologie 12, 250–266. Wilhelm, G., (ed.): 1998: Zwischen Tigris und Nil. 100 Jahre Ausgrabungen der Deutschen Orient Gesellschaft in Vorderasien und Ägypten. Mainz: Philipp von Zabern. Wagensonner, K., 2016: Die frühen lexikalischen Texte und ihr Aufbau. Zu den archaischen und frühdynastischen Wortlisten, der Anordnung ihrer Einträge und den Klassifikationssystemen in den frühen Phasen der Keilschrift. Unpb. PhD dissertation, Oriental Institute, Vienna University. Westenholz J.J., 1989: “Enheduanna, en-priestess, hen of Nanna, spouse of Nanna”. In H. Behrens et al. (eds.): Dumu-E2-Dub-Ba-A: Studies in Honor of Åke W. Sjöberg. Occasional Publications of the Samuel Noah Kramer Fund 11. Philadelphia: The University Museum. Pp. 539–556. — 2006: “Women of religion in Mesopotamia: the high priestess in the temple”. Journal of the Canadian Society for Mesopotamian Studies 1, 31–44.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

38

Gebhard J. Selz

Wiggermann, F.A.M., 1992: Mesopotamian Protective Spirits: The Ritual Texts. Groningen: Styx Publications. Winter, I.J., 1987: “Women in Public: The Disc of Enheduanna, the Beginning of the Office of EN-Priestess, and the Weight of Visual Evidence”. In J.-M. Durand (ed.): La Femme dans le Proche-Orient antique. CRRAI 33. Paris: Éditions Recherche sur les Civilisations. Pp. 189–201. Ziegler, N., 1999: La population féminine des palais d’après les archives royales de Mari. Le Harem de Zimri-Lim. Florilegium Marianum 4. Paris: Éditions Recherche sur les Civilisations. — 2016: “Economic Activities of Woman According to Mari Texts”. In Lion/Michel, 2016. Pp. 296–309.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

Fig. 1: Bird-apkallu and the sacred tree installation (urigallu); from the North-west Palace of Assurnasirpal II (883–859); source: Strommenger, 1962: Ill. 193.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

39

40

Gebhard J. Selz

Fig. 2: Fish-apkallū: Sennacherib’s water basin from Assur; source: Wilhelm, 1998: 62 (Pergamon Museum).

Fig. 3a

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in the Sumerian Tradition of Mesopotamia

41

Fig. 3b Fig. 3a/b: The Enhedu’ana disk; source: Images for object B 16665 (original condition and restoration) https://www.penn.museum/collections/object_ images.php?irn=293415, addressed dec. 2017.

Fig. 4: The writing of Nissaba in the Early Akkadian Lugalušumgal Colophon from Girsu. Erm. 15000; source: Šilejko, 1915: 6 and Wagensonner, 2016: 33.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Appendix: Nissaba(k)- the conceptual evolution of the goddess of barley and scribal art. Chart based on Selz, 1989: 496.

42 Gebhard J. Selz

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Male Sages in Sumerian Literature Peeter Espak1

The well-known character in ancient myths and stories who gives advice or uses his extraordinary skills and knowledge in various crisis situations, including helping humanity or giving counsel in divine spheres, is known as the “sage.” This character has been categorised as an archetypical mythological figure in almost all studies of mythology and comparative religion starting from the birth of these disciplines as independent fields of research more than one hundred years ago. Carl Gustav Jung, a scholar as much passionately praised as derided by various scholars of religion and mythology, used the term senex (“old man”) for this type of archetypical hero. Although the position of the “sage” was primarily attributed to male heroes in stories and myths, Jung also noticed the same type of mythological hero present in female characters. From Sumerian literature, several human characters and divine figures can be described as representing the archetype of the “wise (old) man.” For instance, King Šuruppak plays this role, giving advice to his son Ziusudra in the mid-third millennium wisdom literature in the text titled “The Instructions of Šuruppak.” The flood hero Ziusudra, who obtains the secret of eternal life from the gods and features as the main character of the Old Babylonian Akkadian myth of Atrahasis,2 can be considered to belong to the same tradition of “wise men.” For the mythological king of Uruk, the brave but also wise Gilgameš, hero of the Akkadian Gilgameš epic3, Ziusudra becomes a distant mysterious “old sage man”; a wise hero to whom one could travel to seek that extraordinary knowledge given to him by the gods and hidden from the rest of humanity. The (divine) king as sage A “wise old man” in Jungian terms is a male person possessing super(natural) powers, who, for example, appears in dreams or fairytales as a person giving instructions and/or advice. He helps one to overcome unsolvable problems and gives solutions to difficult situations. However, as Jung explains, associating oneself with the archetypical “wise old man” can drive people mad, causing them to imagine that they have prophetic thoughts and abilities themselves, and inducing them to set out on impossible missions and adventures. In other words, the person who thinks he actually is the “sage,” but in real life does not possess the necessary 1

This study has been supported by the Estonian Research Council grant PUT500 The Ancient Near Eastern Creation Mythology and the Structural Developments of the Pantheon: Diachronical Analysis from the Earliest Sources to the First Dynasty of Babylon. 2 Lambert/Millard, 1969. 3 George, 2003. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

44

Peeter Espak

qualities and knowledge, becomes and starts acting as an irrational “schizophrenic”: “If you have some vision or premonition, you are tempted to assume that you are perhaps the wise old man yourself, and then one falls into delusion. Nietzsche himself was in the condition of an unavoidable delusion. That explains his almost pathological megalomania, which was criticized during his lifetime. That megalomaniac manner of speech was a considerable obstacle in his way; people thought he made fantastic assumptions. It was simply an unavoidable delusion through the emergence of that figure and his identification with it. […] Obviously, all that is included in the demon because Zarathustra is the daemon; he is the wise old man. Whatever Zarathustra is, Nietzsche is also. Nietzsche is the awful jester so he is also the demon that Zarathustra is.”4 In Sumerian literature, the best example of such a megalomaniac (and still young) mythological “sage” character gone at least a bit mad is, of course, King Gilgameš. He wishes to obtain knowledge, eternal life and powers not obtainable by any man in real life. Although he truly accomplishes a lot according to the Sumerian Gilgameš stories, the irrational nature of several of his deeds seems to be clearly demonstrated by the ancient authors. The Sumerian story The Death of Gilgameš, most probably composed during the Ur III period in the 21st century BCE, pictures him as a great hero and possessor of wise words:5 am gal-e ba-nú ḫur nu-mu-un-da-an-zi-zi en dgílgameš ba-nú ḫur nu-mu-un-da-an-zi-zi ĜIŠ šag4 AŠ-ša4 DU ba-nú ḫur nu-mu-un-da-an-zi-zi ur-sag zag da-ra ba-nú ḫur nu-mu-un-da-an-zi-zi usu šag4 AŠ-ša4 ba-nú ḫur nu-mu-un-da-an-zi-zi níg-érim tur-tur-ra ba-nú ḫur nu-mu-un-da-an-zi-zi igi kug-zu dug4-dug4-ga ba-nú ḫur nu-mu-un-da-an-zi-zi lib4-lib4-bi ma-da ba-nú ḫur nu-mu-un-da-an-zi-zi The great wild bull has lain down never to rise again! Lord Gilgameš has lain down never to rise again! The one who brought the perfect (ḫuluppu) tree has lain down, never shall he rise again! The hero with a shoulder-belt has lain down never to rise again! The extraordinary strongman has lain down never to rise again! The diminisher of evil has lain down never to rise again! The speaker of wisdom has lain down never to rise again! The conqueror of foreign lands has lain down never to rise again! 4 5

Jung, 1989: 133–134. Cavigneaux/Al-Rawi, 2000; 1–8, M1, my free translation. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Male Sages in Sumerian Literature

45

But as the same story testifies, the great deeds and wisdom of Gilgameš do not reward him with eternal life. The “archetypical motif” of Gilgameš’s stories of “seeking eternal life,” much more present in the later Akkadian version of the complete epic, also ends in failure as in the earlier Sumerian stories. Gilgameš had hoped for abilities and wisdom beyond the reach of his human character and capability: nì gig ak nam-lú-ùlu-ke4 ne-en de6-a ma-ra-du11 nì gi-dur ku-da-zu-ke4 ne-en de6-a ma-ra-du11 u4 ku10-ku10 nam-lú-ùlu-kam sá mi-ri-ib-du11 ki dili nam-lú-ùlu-kam sá mi-ri-ib-du11 a-gi6 gaba nu-ru-gú sá mi-ri-ib-du11 mè ka-re nu-me-a sá mi-ri-ib-du11 šen-šen nu-sá-a sá mi-ri-ib-du11 geš-geš-lá šu kar-kar-re nu-me-a sá mi-ri-ib-du11 UNU?-gal šà zú kéšda-zu nam-ba-an-[...] “Were you not told that this is what the evil of belonging to mankind brings?6 Were you not told that this is what the cutting of your umbilical cord brings? The day which is the darkest for mankind has arrived for you! The place which is the loneliest for mankind has arrived for you! The flood impossible to oppose has arrived for you! The battle impossible to flee has arrived for you! The unequal combat has arrived for you! The fight from where there is no escape has arrived for you! / heart.” But still you should not go to the underworld (of the dead) with an angry Another king from Sumerian literature who, according to his hymns is praised as a great sage and speaker of wisdom, is the divine king Šulgi, the second ruler of the Neo-Sumerian Empire after its founder Ur-Namma. His wealth of knowledge and skills is constantly underlined. Even Šulgi’s knowledge of foreign languages is praised in one of the royal hymns about him (Šulgi C: 121–126):7 [eme] [mar]-tu níg eme-gi-ra-gen7 ḫé-[en-ga-zu-àm] [x x] x lú kur-ra hur-sag-ta du x [silim] ḫa-ma-né-éš eme mar-tu-a inim ḫu-mu-ne-ni-gi4? eme elam níg eme-gi-ra-gen7 ḫé-èn-ga-zu-àm x x elamki-ma nidba x x-bur10-bur10-re-éš silim ḫa-ma-né-éš eme elam-ma inim ḫu-mu-ne-ni-gi4 “I know the Martu language as well as Sumerian! When the mountain people walk in the mountains 6 7

v N1/N2 17–25; see Espak, 2015: 186–187. Castellino, 1972; ETCSL 2.4.2.03. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

46

Peeter Espak

and they welcome me, I answer them in Martu! I know the Elamite language as well as Sumerian! … when they bring offerings from Elam ? … And when they welcome me, I answer them in Elamite!” As a rule, however, all the Sumerian kings state that their “wisdom” (géštu) is god-given, in most cases from the god of skills and wisdom, Enki, who is also one of the main patron deities of scribal arts or literature, as we would call it today. King Šulgi’s hymns already demonstrate that the royal power also tried to establish his name for all eternity. The only way possible to achieve and maintain that fame for future generations to admire was seen in the compositions of royal praise poetry and “historical” accounts praising and memorializing the great deeds of the king. While people remembered and recited the praise works of literature composed or commissioned by the ruler in his own time, his name and fame endured in future generations, as the Šulgi Hymn E clearly demonstrates (lines 240–243):8 èn-du-gu10 ka-ga14 ḫé-gál šìr-gu10 géštu-ge na-an-dib-bé gu-kur silim-éš du11-ga-gá-kam inim den-ki-ke4 mu-ši-gá-gá-a-àm “My songs, let them be in the mouths (of everyone)! My hymns from the knowledge (of all the mankind) may not fade away! The objective of my might/well-being is praised, the words which Enki has made available to me.” The nature of the omnipotent ruler of Ur III is definitely connected to the Gilgameš traditions of Uruk. The kings of Ur, after having defeated the Gutian invaders in Mesopotamia and subsequently submitted all the previously independent neighbouring states to their centralised rule, needed a mythological and historical starting point for their kingship and for legitimising their dynasty.9 The tradition of the wise but also strong and even brutal king Gilgameš and his dynasty, originating from the ancient traditions of the State of Uruk, was certainly used as the role model for creating the public image of the kings of Ur in that period. The archetypical ruler was seen as a strongman, both physically and mentally; the king also had to be a mystical, almost omnipotent, sage-warrior – not just a bureaucratic administrator of the country or a military general. The god as sage The main characteristic or attribute of mythological divine heroes definable as sages in the Sumerian context is géštu. The direct translation of this Sumerian word (Akkadian uznu) would be “ear.” In its abstract meaning, géštu denotes the 8 9

ETCSL 2.4.2.05. Espak, 2016: 87–105. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Male Sages in Sumerian Literature

47

capability to receive instructions or “words of wisdom” through the ears and therefore it would be translatable as “understanding” or “receiving” (in case of the above-mentioned Šulgi Hymn E, possibly also as the collective knowledge or memory of mankind). On the other hand, géštu also means the capability to use or master received and heard wisdom or instructions, and therefore another suitable translation would be “(practical) skill,” “craft” or “cleverness.” 10 Another English translation that is fitting would be “knowledge.” The connection of “wisdom” and “understanding” with “ear” definitely demonstrates the auditory nature of the ancient culture: the ear was considered to be the seat of intelligence.11 From the divine sphere of gods, the most well-known and widely respected “sage-god” was undoubtedly the god Enki – the primary holder of géštu, deity of all imaginable crafts, scribal culture, clever advice, and lord of the mysterious underworld region of Abzu where the god himself resided. However, Enki, as archetypal cultural heroes often do, combines two different “archetypal” sides or poles in his character. In one moment, he can be a great sage offering various solutions to difficult problems and helping humanity or gods in times of trouble, for example, advising the flood hero Ziusudra on how to escape destruction in the myth of Atrahasis after the gods had decided to wipe out all of mankind in the Flood; and creating mankind in order to stop the revolt of the younger gods in the Enki and Ninmah myth. On the other hand, he can act as a trickster and even as a skilled fraudster – as, for example, the cunning method of the Flood Story’s warning to mankind demonstrates. The especially tricky action of seducing female deities and making them pregnant by Enki can be seen in the Enki and Ninhursag myth12 where he has (possibly forceful) intercourse with one of the mother-goddess figures and then impregnates several generations of his own female offspring in a series of incestuous acts.13 Finally he becomes pregnant himself from eating the fruit of different plants grown by his own semen and almost dies because of his inability to give birth due to his lack of female reproductive organs. Thus, the dualism of the sage/cultural hero and trickster is also clearly visible in Sumerian literature, mythology and religion. When collecting all different aspects of the character of Enki – birthgiver to mankind, saver of mankind from the flood, denier of eternal life to man, very wise in some situations but also deeply troubled because of his sexual appetite and amorality, etc. – the description given to the trickster/cultural hero by Mircea Eliade in analyzing completely different cultures, seems entirely adequate also in case of the Sumerian sage-god Enki:

10

Galter, 1983: 95–99; cf. P. Espak, 2015: 11. Denning-Bolle, 1992: 36. 12 Attinger, 1984. 13 See Espak, 2015: 182–186. 11

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

48

Peeter Espak

“It is true that in the majority of mythological traditions the Trickster is responsible for the advent of death and for the present condition of the world. But he is also a transformer and a culture hero, since he is said to have stolen fire and other useful objects and to have destroyed the monsters who ravaged earth. Nevertheless, even when he acts as a culture hero, the Trickster preserves his specific traits. For instance, when he steals the fire or some other object indispensable to man, jealousy withheld by a divine being (the Sun, the Water, the game, the fish, etc.), he succeeds not heroically, but by cunning or fraud. […] It is clear that this paradoxical behavior has a double significance: the Trickster mocks the “sacred,” the priests, and the shaman, but the ridicule also turns against him. When he is not the obstinate and deceitful adversary of the Creator God (as in Californian myths), he proves to be a personage difficult to define, both intelligent and stupid, near the gods by his “primordiality” and his powers, but even nearer men by his gluttonous hunger, his exorbitant sexuality, and his amorality.”14 In one of the most widely known Sumerian myths, Enki and Ninmaḫ,15 the god Enki seems to even be described as “wisdom personified.” The myth begins with a description of the initial situation of the uncreated world with the so-called in illo die motif. After the birth of the gods, they all had to perform necessary physical labour to earn their living and provide the great older gods with their food and daily livelihood. This brings about a revolution among the younger gods. The great mother-goddess Namma carries the complaint of the deities to Enki who is sleeping deep below the earth in his underworld region of Abzu. Enki listens to Namma’s advice who asks him to create a new category of creatures as a substitute for the gods in pain. Enki rises up from his sleep and creates seven beings definable as birth-goddesses. The following translation follows the interpretation of the passage given by W.G. Lambert: (Enki and Ninmaḫ 26–28)16 géštu gizzal èn-tar-zu nam-kù-zu mud me-dím nì-nam-ma se12-en-sa7-sár d en-ki-ke4 á-ni ba-ši-in-de6 géštu í-ni10-ni10-e \ š[i-í]b-ta-an-è d en-ki-ke4 mud me-dím ní-te-a-na šà-bi géštu-ta ù-mu-ni-de5-ge “Understanding and intelligence, the care-taker, the skilled/wise one, fashioner of the form of all things, turned out the birth goddesses17 14

Eliade, 1969: 156–157. The latest edition Ceccarelli, 2016; see Benito, 1969. 16 Lambert, 1992: 130–131. Lambert points to the fact that mud used in the myth could be a reference to “blood” just as in case of Atrahasis. 17 Lambert, 1992: 131 / 2013: 337: “Being expert in wisdom, discernment and consultation, he produced skill of blood, bodies and creativity, the birth goddesses.” Kramer in Myths of Enki (1989), p. 32: “the cunning (and) perceptive one, the one who guides the seeker, 15

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Male Sages in Sumerian Literature

49

Enki stationed them by his side, seeking out wisdom After Enki had in wisdom reflected upon his blood and body.” One other important aspect of Sumerian mythology also clearly visible in the myth of Enki and Ninmaḫ seems to be the fact that “wisdom” or the role of being “the sage” is often divided between the male and female mythological heroes. Enki does not act alone but uses the help and advice of the mother-goddess. In that respect the great fertility goddess and the great male god of knowledge are interdependent in their wisdom. They are both definable as “sages” and they cannot act alone. The important role of the mother-goddess and his wisdom is also clearly visible in the myth of Enki and Ninḫursag, where, in spite of all the great wisdom and powers of the male god Enki, the female goddess is the one who offers the final resolution to the story and saves the life of the immoral and pregnant Enki. In the last phases of Sumerian literature, during the period of the First Dynasty of Babylon, when the Sumerian language most probably was no longer an actively spoken mother tongue in the region, the god Marduk starts taking over Enki’s role as the active “sage” of the gods. One of Samsu-iluna’s bilingual inscription states that Marduk is “the Enlil of the land” and “the god who makes wisdom.” (Samsu-iluna 5: 14–17 / 13–15)18 ì-nu-šu dAMAR.UTU u4-ba dAMAR.UTU d [d] en-líl kalam-ma-na en-líl ma-ti-šu DIĜIR ba-ni ne-me-qí-im diĝir nam-˹kù˺-zu an-dím-˹dím˺-me-a

“Then Marduk Enlil of his land, the god who creates wisdom”

The following period of “post-Sumerian” religion and mythology testifies to the gradual disappearance of active female gods from the narratives of different myths.19 The story of the Enuma Eliš myth is already completely dominated by divine male skilled or sage characters (Enki/Ea, Marduk, etc.). There are several other male figures in Sumerian literature definable as “the sage” such as the god Haia and other important divine figures who occasionally have the characteristics of the sage or wise man. The most archetypical of them treated in this paper in the context of the Sumerian preserved written sources were certainly the king-hero Gilgameš and the later historical figure of Šulgi from the human or semi-divine world and the god Enki from the realms of mythology.

the skilled one who fashions the form of things, turned out the sigensigdu.” 18 Frayne, 1990: 380–383. 19 Espak, 2015: 121. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

50

Peeter Espak

Biblography Attinger, P., 1984: “Enki and Ninhursaga”. Zeitschrift für Assyriologie 74, 1–52. Benito, C.A., 1969: “Enki and Ninmah” and “Enki and the World Order”. Ph.D. dissertation. University of Pennsylvania. Castellino, G.R., 1972: Two Šulgi Hymns (BC). Studia Semitici 42. Roma: Istituto del Vicino Oriente. Cavigneaux, A. / Al-Rawi, F.N.H., 2000: Gilgameš et la mort. Textes de Tell Haddad VI, avec un appendice sur les textes funéraires sumériens. Cuneiform Monographs 19. Groningen: Styx Publications. Ceccarelli, M., 2016: Enki und Ninmah eine mythische Erzählung in sumerischer Sprache. Orientalische Religionen in der Antike 16. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Denning-Bolle, S., 1992: Wisdom in Akkadian Literature. Expression, Instruction, Dialogue. Leiden: Ex Oriente Lux. Eliade, M., 1969 (1984): “Prolegomenon to Religious Dualism: Dyads and Polarities”. In M. Eliade: The Quest. History and Meaning of Religion. Chicago/ London: The University of Chicago Press. Espak, P., 2015: The God Enki in Sumerian Royal Ideology and Mythology. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag. — 2016: “The Esthablishment of Ur III Dynasty. From the Gutians to the Formation of the Neo-Sumerian Imperial Ideology and Pantheon”. In Th.R. Kämmerer / M. Kõiv / V. Sazonov (eds.): Kings, Gods and People. Establishing Monarchies in the Ancient World. Acta Antiqua Mediterranea et Orientalia 4. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 390/4. Münster. Pp. 77−108. ETCSL 2.4.2.03: J.A. Black / G. Cunningham / J. Ebeling / E. Fluckiger-Hawker / E. Robson / J. Taylor / G. Zólyomi: The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature (http://www-etcsl.orient.ox.ac.uk/). Oxford, 1998–2006. Frayne, D.R., 1990: Old Babylonian Period (2003–1595 BC): The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia: Early Periods, Vol. 4. University of Totonto Press. Galter, H.D., 1983: Der Gott Ea/Enki in der akkadischen Überlieferung. Eine Bestandsaufnahme des vorhandenen Materials. Dissertationen der Karl-Franzens-Universiät Graz. George, A.R., 2003: The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic: Introduction, Critical Edition and Cuneiform Texts. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. Jung, C.G., 1989: Nietzsche´s Zarathustra. Notes of the Seminar Given in 1934– 1939 by C.G. Jung. Vol. 2/1. Ed. James L. Jarret. London: Routledge. Kramer, S.N. / Maier, John, 1989: Myths of Enki, the Crafty God. New-York / Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lambert, W.G., 1992: “The Relationship of Sumerian and Babylonian Myth as Seen in Accounts of Creation”. In D. Charpin / F. Joannès (eds.): La circulation des biens, des personnes et des idées dans le Proche-Orient ancien. Actes de la XXXVIIIe Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale (Paris, 8–10 juillet

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Male Sages in Sumerian Literature

51

1991). Paris. Pp. 129–135. — 2013: Babylonian Creation Myths. Mesopotamian Civilizations 16. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns. Lambert, W.G. / Millard, A.R., 1969: Atra-hasīs: The Babylonian Story of the Flood (with Miguel Civil, The Sumerian Flood Story). Oxford: Clarendon Press.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Akkadian Literature Saana Svärd

1. Introduction1 The topic of female sages in Akkadian literature is a vast one. Defining “female,” defining “Akkadian literature” and defining “sage” are all topics which could easily yield several scholarly articles. Thus, I will start this article by delineating its scope. As far as the question of gender is concerned, in this article I subscribe to the idea that gender is separate from biological sex and that it is socially constructed. The process of gender construction can be observed in many ways, but here I concentrate on two of them. First, gender is constructed in culturally significant narratives, such as the Gilgamesh Epic. Narratives are one of the most powerful ways by which individuals and communities create their identities. By portraying men and women in a certain way as actors in a narrative, narrators participate in the gender construction process. Second, gender is created in everyday interactions between individuals. Such interactions are often simple, such as financial transactions or the actions of a scribe. Nonetheless, texts attesting to these interactions can illuminate the process of gender construction on a more concrete level of social reality than culturally significant narratives. In this article, I will look at gender from both of these perspectives in the light of three case studies. I will first present an example of a literary figure, a female sage in the Gilgamesh Epic. Second, I will examine the figure of the Neo-Babylonian queen mother Adad-guppi, who is presented in a long Neo-Babylonian inscription as a wise counselor to her son the king. Finally, I will discuss female sages in the social reality of first-millennium Mesopotamia. In this article, I concentrate on female gender, but it should be remembered that the mechanisms of gender construction are not limited to female gender alone.2 The corpus of “traditional Akkadian literature” covers roughly the years 2300– 100 BCE and includes such genres as myths, wisdom literature, legends, incantations, laments for people and deities, and praises to deities in many different forms (such as hymns, prayers, love poems and dedicatory inscriptions). It is difficult to draw a line between these genres and the literature relating to practical aims (such as omen collections, divination manuals, prophecy, mathematical and astronomi1

I would like to thank Johannes Bach for discussions on the topic of narratives in Mesopotamia, Sebastian Fink for his feedback, and finally Albion M. Butters for improving the English of the article. I also gratefully acknowledge funding support from the Academy of Finland for the writing of this article. 2 For more on gender, methodology and Assyriology, see Svärd, 2016 and Svärd/GarciaVentura, 2018. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

54

Saana Svärd

cal texts, etc.). Another grey area includes the royal inscriptions, which were texts celebrating the glorious deeds of the ruling king. A complete overview of all genres will not be given here, especially since the genres I mention are merely helpful labels, assigned from the perspective of modern research. From the Akkadian point of view, these genre lines are blurred, to say the least, and there are many compositions which do not neatly fall into one of these modern categories.3 For the purposes of this article, I have chosen two sample literary texts, namely the Gilgamesh Epic and the Adad-guppi inscription. Additionally, I will discuss women and wisdom in the light of first-millennium non-literary sources. 2. Mother Ninsun in the Gilgamesh Epic Much of the scholarship that surrounds the fragments, different versions and recensions of the Gilgamesh Epic is not relevant for this article. To give a very brief overview, the earliest Sumerian and Akkadian stories of Gilgamesh first became a unified storyline in the Old Babylonian version of the epic (around 1700 BCE), followed later by the so-called Standard Babylonian version, which is mostly known from copies dated to the Neo-Assyrian era.4 The Gilgamesh Epic, with its long history of redaction and multiple layers of meaning, cannot be conflated into one easy narrative with a single simple purpose or audience. Nonetheless, a point worth making is that the epic was a popular piece in ancient times, just as it is today. In comparison to other Akkadian literature, which tends to be more formulaic, the Epic of Gilgamesh engages the modern reader fully. As so elegantly stated by Tzvi Abusch: “Its study draws us into an orbit that is engaging and thrilling, for it is a literary work of fantasy and history that centers on some of the very existential issues with which we ourselves grapple.”5 The ancient audience of these stories must have included both men and women, considering the wide circulation of the different forms of the epic and the obvious popularity it enjoyed through the centuries. However, considering the prevalence of male scribes in Mesopotamia, it is clear that the image of gender presented therein is directed from the male point of view. It is thus not surprising to find women functioning as supporting actors in the epic. Already one of the major topics of the epos, the “bromance” between Gilgamesh and Enkidu precludes any leading role for women.6 Here I concentrate on the topic of female sages in the work. There are three clear figures of female sages or counselors in the Gilgamesh Epic: the prostitute (ḫarimtu) Šamhat; Šiduri, the tavern-keeper (sābītu); and Ninsun, the divine 3

For an introduction to the problems of defining authorship in Mesopotamia, see Foster, 1991 and Halton/Svärd, 2018: 30–34. For a comprehensive anthology of Akkadian literature, see Foster, 2005. 4 Abusch, 2015: 2–9. See also the comprehensive edition of the epic in George, 2003. 5 Abusch, 2015: 1. 6 Harris, 2000: 120. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Akkadian Literature

55

mother of Gilgamesh. The role of Šamhat is to teach the wild-man Enkidu about the ways of the civilized world. Šiduri, the tavern-keeper, counsels Gilgamesh in his quest to find eternal life, exhorting the joys of the ephemeral human condition.7 Thus, it seems that Šiduri and Šamhat both are upholding traditional values of the society, emphasizing the importance of family and civilized customs.8 Gilgamesh’s divine mother, the wise goddess Ninsun, is chosen for specific analysis here as her role parallels that of the queen mother Adad-guppi, which will be the next case study in this article. In the epic, Ninsun acts as an interpreter for her son’s dreams. The dreams of Gilgamesh, as well as the interpretation given to them by his mother, paint Enkidu as a strong companion, who will always have Gilgamesh’s back and who will be accepted as a son of Ninsun. The dreams foretell of their love for each other and Enkidu’s position as the only one who could ever be his equal. In the epic, Ninsun is the ideal mother, helping her son in his quest. She is also an expert dream interpreter, a role which was given to women elsewhere in Mesopotamian literature as well. The role of dream interpreter was not an exclusive province of women in Mesopotamia (even within the Gilgamesh Epic, Enkidu also takes the role of a dream interpreter), but it does seem to be one of the few fields of divination in which women did participate.9 In his analysis, Tzvi Abusch has suggested that Gilgamesh has features of a crown prince figure rather than those of a kingly figure. His overall arrogant attitude in the epic could “(…) exemplify attitudes that may be characteristic of royal youngsters but which lead to failure in rulers.”10 He also sees the importance of Gilgamesh’s mother in the narrative from this perspective. Although I find the overall argument of Abusch convincing, and an interesting lens through which the narrative can be viewed, I disagree with his assessment that Gilgamesh is listening to the advice of his mother because of his youth.11 The relationships between kings and their mothers in the social reality of Mesopotamia attest to the important role of mothers of kings as counselors and stout supporters of their sons, even 7

In the Standard version Šiduri’s role is shortened, but in the Old Babylonian version Šiduri gives a long passage of sage advice relating to the importance of earthly joys. It seems that in the Old Babylonian version it is Šiduri, not Uta-napishtim, who counsels Gilgamesh and makes him see the futility of his quest for immortality (Abusch, 2015: 7). To quote the Old Babylonian version: “The life that you seek you never will find: when the gods created mankind, death they dispensed to mankind, life they kept for themselves.” And: “But you, Gilgamesh, let your belly be full, enjoy yourself always by day and by night! Make merry each day, dance and play day and night! Let your clothes be clean, let your head be washed, may you bathe in water! Gaze on the child that holds your hand, let your wife enjoy your repeated embrace!” (George, 1999: xxxvi, xliii.) 8 Harris, 2000: 124. 9 Harris, 2000: 106–107, 121. Another field of divination where women were active was prophecy; see Nissinen, 2013. 10 Abusch, 2015: 174. 11 See Abusch, 2015: 174–175. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

56

Saana Svärd

including adult and seasoned kings. The mythical evidence as well suggests that the role of women as counselors, especially in royal households, was not uncommon.12 These themes are further discussed in the next two sections. 3. Queen mother Adad-guppi I next move closer to Mesopotamian social reality by introducing the case of the pseudo-biography of Adad-guppi, the mother of the Neo-Babylonian King Nabonidus (556–539 BCE). This literary example will offer an opportunity to reflect on the figure of a semi-fictive female counselor. This inscription is almost completely written from the first-person perspective, but the ending of the text clearly indicates that the narrative was composed after Adad-guppi’s death. 13 Although she did not compose the text herself, the unknown author or authors present Adad-guppi as a woman of importance and as someone to whom a new literary composition could be attributed.14 The text was written on two steles as part of the restoration project of the temple of Sîn in the city of Harran. This is why it can be dated to the year 547 BCE. The text opens by introducing the purported author, Adad-guppi. Then the readers are reminded of the destruction of the city of Harran in 610 BCE. Adadguppi’s faithful service to the gods, Sîn in particular, is recounted next. The narrative emphasizes that the god Sîn agrees to return to Harran, having been moved to answer the plea of Adad-guppi, his faithful servant. Even more, Sîn will help Adad-guppi’s son to achieve kingship, in order for him to reestablish the god’s temple in Harran. This is predicted in a dream of Adad-guppi, where she speaks with Sîn.15 “When in my dreams his hands were set (upon me), Sîn the king of gods spoke to me thus: ‘The return of the gods is because of you. I will place the dwelling in Harran in the hands of Nabonidus your son. He will construct Ehulhul and make perfect its work.’ [...] I was attentive to the word which Sîn, the king of gods spoke and indeed I saw it (happen)!” Later, the inscription reiterates Adad-guppi’s loyal worship and recounts how she introduced her son to the court.

12

For some examples, see Harris, 2000: 100–104, 113–116. Beaulieu, 1989: 68 argues that the inscription “was in all probability set up at Ḫarran several years after her death by Nabonidus to commemorate the rebuilding of Eḫulḫul, the temple of Sîn.” 14 An interesting parallel to this unique text can be found in a Luwian stele of the wife of Taitas, as already noted by Beaulieu, 1989, 77. See also Fink, 2014: 247. The text is translated in Klinger, 2011: 76. 15 All translations of this text in the current article are quotations from Halton/Svärd, 2018: 168–174. For a recent German translation that includes a complete bibliography of the text and a commented score based on all available sources, see Schaudig, 2001. 13

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Akkadian Literature

57

“(Thus, altogether for) 68 years I revered them with all my heart. I guarded their watch [and] I made Nabonidus (my) son, my offspring, serve in front of Nebuchadnezzar, son of Nabopolassar and Neriglissar, king of Babylon and day and night he guarded their watch and he constantly and repeatedly did whatever pleased them. He established my name excellent before them.” Here we see her working actively in guiding her son by making him part of the royal court. At the same time, the passage outlines the mutually beneficial relationship between mother and son, as the son also promotes his mother in the court. The lines that end the first-person account are the culmination point of the inscription: “They (Nebuchadnezzar and Neriglissar) elevated me (socially by treating me) like a daughter, (like) their offspring. Afterwards fate carried them away. No one among their children or among [their] people or their high officials whose possessions and wealth increased because they raised them (in high positions) – (not one of them) set the incense offering for them. (On the other hand), I indeed, every month, ceaselessly in my good clothes I made funerary offerings of oxen, fattened sheep, bread, beer, wine, oil, honey and all kinds of fruits of the garden. I established lavish strewn offerings of sweet-smelling fragrance as their regular offerings, and I set it before them.” After this passage, the first-person narrative ends. The last paragraph of the text states that Adad-guppi died on the ninth regnal year of her son. The text describes a funeral with appropriately lavish mourning rituals, and it finishes the narrative by urging the audience to worship Sîn. This inscription had many purposes. It glorified the hegemony of Sîn, the moon god, gave testimony of royal piety,16 and perhaps served as a “plea that nobody forget to bring funerary offerings to her.”17 Furthermore, the text can be seen as a kind of wisdom text, teaching the audience that worship of gods leads to good things in this life.18 However, what I see as the most important point in this text is that it establishes Nabonidus’ right to rule on the basis of his blood ties to his mother.19 The statement in the text that Adad-guppi was like a daughter to the previous kings and took charge of offerings for the deceased kings is crucially important for this interpretation. These offerings were traditionally part of the duties of the 16

See Beaulieu, 1989: 74. Beaulieu, 1989: 79. 18 Longman, 1991: 101–103. Beaulieu suggests that this text could have connections with the so called “narû-literature” (Beaulieu, 1989: 209). On narû-literature, see further, for example, Haul, 2009. 19 Halton/Svärd, 2018: 169. 17

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

58

Saana Svärd

direct offspring of the deceased, usually the eldest son and heir. As a king, Nabonidus was an usurper, and it is not a coincidence that this text does not mention his father at all. It is Adad-guppi who is the mediator between Nabonidus and Sîn; the text emphasizes her extraordinary piousness at every turn. She is presented as the wise counselor who guides her son to kingship, together with Sîn.20 Adad-guppi’s role parallels the role of Ninsun in the Gilgamesh Epic in a remarkably close way. Adad-guppi, like Ninsun, interprets dreams, divines the correct course of action for her son, and helps him with her wise council. Considering the extraordinary cultural significance of the Gilgamesh Epic, I do not believe that this parallelism occurs by mere chance. Instead, the format of inscription easily lends itself to expressing such roles of royal mothers, which fit with the cultural preconceptions of motherhood, femaleness and their relationship to kingship. Remarking on the potential correlation between the role of Ninsun in the Gilgamesh Epic and the social reality of Mesopotamia, Rivkah Harris wonders if the epic tells us something about real families and the important relationship between sons and mothers.21 Ninsun is a purely fictional character and evidence of Adadguppi’s role in the social reality of the Neo-Babylonian court is non-existent. Nonetheless, Harris’ speculation raises an important question: what was the relationship between fictional Mesopotamian narratives and the social reality of the time? This theme will be further explored in the next section. 4. Wise women in the social reality of the Neo-Assyrian Empire We have seen in Sections 2 and 3 how the mother is presented as a counselor to her son the king in the narratives of the Gilgamesh Epic and the Adad-guppi inscription. In this section, I move on to the level of social reality by examining the piousness of the mother of the king and her role as a counselor to her son – this time in the Neo-Assyrian court. I draw from the Neo-Assyrian textual evidence regarding queens in general, but I specifically discuss Naqi’a, the mother of King Esarhaddon. She is the best known of all Neo-Assyrian royal women, and her piousness and her role as a counselor to her son are clearly portrayed in the texts. I define piousness here as “religious wholesomeness” for an individual who was in the favor of the gods and who fulfilled her/his place in society according to their plan. There are several indications of such connotations regarding NeoAssyrian queens. In a remarkable letter, the son of the Neo-Assyrian King Esarhaddon reports that he was chosen as the crown prince because of his mother’s righteousness (SAA 10 188). Furthermore, the title of a queen in a funerary ritual is found as “the daughter of righ[teousness]” (SAA 20 34). In both cases, the relevant word is kīnūtu (‘loyalty,’ ‘righteousness’). In the famous case of Naqi’a, even her name refers to purity (Naqi’a, ‘pure’). Sarah Melville has explained this by pointing out that the mother of the king, by definition, must be righteous to 20 21

See further, Halton/Svärd, 2018: 168–174, especially 169. Harris, 2000: 128. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Akkadian Literature

59

have produced the king, who was ideologically the champion of order.22 Thus, the son and the mother guarantee each other’s piousness and purity. This dynamic can be clearly seen in the Adad-guppi inscription as well. Regarding cultic activities, there is evidence of royal women being involved in the administration of rituals and cult, but little direct evidence of their involvement in the rituals as actors.23 There is, however, text SAA 20 52, which describes religious practices in Assur. One passage therein refers to the queen (rev. col. iv 52'–54'): “‘May the queen enter into the presence of Aššur in the main room whenever she wishes?’ An extispicy was made and it was favorable.” If the queen (in this case, possibly the queen of Assurbanipal, Libbali-šarrat) had access to one of the most sacred spaces of the realm, it strongly implies that she engaged in some kind of cultic or ritual action there. Furthermore, in the case of Naqi’a there is also iconographical evidence of her piety, as she is shown in a fragment of a bronze relief together with the king participating in a ritual.24 Other unique references to her role in the religious sphere include that she received a number of prophecies supporting her son’s reign and that her image was deposited in temples alongside that of her son.25 Clearly, documenting the piety of Naqi’a was important for the royal ideology of the period. Moving to the second topic, the Neo-Assyrian queen as a counselor, there is evidence that Naqi’a was a close confidante of the king and acted on many occasions on his behalf, or possibly on behalf of the royal dynasty. On several occasions, Naqi’a’s actions parallel the actions of the king. Especially noteworthy in this respect is her building inscription (usually the exclusive province of the kings), where she commemorates building a palace for her son the king in Nineveh. Furthermore, one finds scholars writing to her in the same courteous tone as to the king. There are indications of her reach in the military and political arena as well: we know Neo-Assyrian queens had military contingents in their service, and on one occasion Naqi’a apparently received a letter requesting troop reinforcements to Babylonia. Naqi’a is especially well known because of the so-called “Zakûtu Treaty” (SAA 2 8) where she, under her Akkadian name Zakûtu, makes Assyrians swear loyalty to her grandson Assurbanipal as the new king after the death of Esarhaddon. Finally, a piece of direct evidence of her role as counselor to the king is a letter from him addressed to his mother (SAA 16 2), in which he confirms her authority on a matter “concerning the servant of Amos.” The king writes: “just as the king’s mother commanded, in the same way I have commanded. It is fine indeed, as you said.” Finally, from the point of view of female sages, it is significant that in a letter to King Esarhaddon the mother of the king 22

Melville, 2004: 55–57. See also Svärd, 2015: 59–60. For Naqi’a’s involvement in the religious sphere, see Svärd, 2015: 54–56. For women in Neo-Assyrian temples and cults, see Svärd, forthcoming. 24 Svärd, 2015: 77–79. 25 Svärd, 2015: 54–55 and Svärd, forthcoming. 23

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

60

Saana Svärd

is said to be “as able as (the sage) Adapa” (SAA 10 244).26 Regarding other Neo-Assyrian queens, a comparison can be drawn between Naqi’a and an earlier Neo-Assyrian queen, Sammu-ramat, who quite possibly acted as a trusted counselor, or perhaps as a regent for her son.27 After the time of Naqi’a, a dedication made by a Neo-Assyrian queen (probably Libbali-šarrat) asks that the goddess will make her speech pleasing to the king, which can be understood as referring to her role as a counselor to her spouse.28 5. Final reflections Regarding social reality, the discussion on female sages in this article is based on first-millennium evidence, especially in relation to the Neo-Assyrian Empire. Nevertheless, there are indications from other historical periods as well. During much of Mesopotamia’s history, women worked as scribes and authors,29 as well as experts in some fields.30 We have some indications that women in general (especially royal women) were perceived as pious and could act as mediators and counselors, both in narratives and in social reality.31 On a mythic and narrative level in particular, older women are presented as counselors.32 Furthermore, the mothers of kings in Mesopotamian history are attested as counselors and support26

Svärd, 2015: 54–59. Svärd, 2015: 49–51. 28 Deller, 1983: 22–24. Translation of the whole votive text on a clay tablet: “[For the DN, the gr]eat [Lady], her Lady. [Libbali-šarrat, queen of Assurb]anipal, king of everything, king of Assyria, [she has made it ... of ] red gold [for the life and breath of] Assurbanipal, her beloved, (for) the lengthening of his days, old age of his throne and for herself, for her life, lengthening of her days, stability of her reign. May (the goddess) make her speech pleasing for the king, her spouse, and may she (the goddess) make them grow old together. (This is why) she has made (it) stand and donated (it).” The text is discussed in Svärd, 2015: 50, 55, 61, 82, 88, 211. 29 The oldest references to female scribes come from the Akkad and Ur III periods, and it seems that there was a continuing tradition of training female scribes in Mesopotamia (Lion, 2011). For discussion on female authorship, see Halton/Svärd, 2018: 25–36. Overall, we came to the conclusion that: “When one compares the text genres that appear in this volume to the entire generic framework of Mesopotamian texts there are no hulking gaps. There are some genres that do not appear in our collection, such as mathematical texts, omen collections, and astral observations, possibly because women were not educated in these highly specialized fields of knowledge. However, in all other respects nothing stands out as systematically different from the writings of males. In other words, difference is mainly quantitative, not qualitative” (Halton/Svärd, 2018: 229). 30 Women who had some specific type of knowledge which allowed them to give counsel include, for instance, the following (although all are rarely attested): healers, midwives and dream interpreters (Harris, 2000: 154–156); female prophets (Nissinen, 2013); and female perfume makers (Halton/Svärd, 2018: 219–224). 31 Harris, 2000: 98–99. 32 Harris, 2000: 100–104 27

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Akkadian Literature

61

ers of their sons.33 Thus, if we agree with the idea that gender is something that is actively constructed by the actions of individuals, we see that some Mesopotamian women performed their gender as counselors both in social reality and in narratives.34 Despite the suggestive evidence of women acting as counselors, there are also implications that this was not always simple. Two good examples present themselves: First, the daughter of King Zimri-Lim writes to her father in a letter from the Mari palace archive and asks him to listen to her: “And now, even if I am a woman, my father and lord should listen to my words. What I regularly send my father are words from the gods.”35 There are, of course, numerous examples in Mesopotamian letters which demonstrate that when giving advice to the king, it is best to offer it as politely as possible (see, for example, “In this matter the king should listen to [his se]rvant,” in SAA 10 196). What makes this letter different is the explicit attention paid to the gender of the letter sender. The phrase “even if I am a woman” clearly evokes the need for special justification (not needed for the king’s male subjects) in the case of a woman giving advice. Second, similar self-awareness of a woman’s potential lack of credibility can be seen in two very unusual oracular queries (SAA 4 321, 322) where the female writer is seeking knowledge regarding a report that there will be a rebellion against King Assurbanipal. Both queries end with an exceptional ezib formula: “Disregard that a woman has written it and placed it before you.”36 These text examples indicate the existence of tension when women were using their voice in the sphere of politics or divination. Such hesitancy, however, is nowhere to be seen in the Epic of Gilgamesh or the Adad-guppi inscription. The relationship of fictive or semi-fictive narratives to the social reality is complex. Such indications of hesitancy in texts relating to social reality might indicate instances where the situation of women “performing their gender” as female counselors was challenging. One should also consider the fact that the topic of women acting as counselors only occurs rarely in Mesopotamian material. An interesting question is, why did some women perform their gender in this way while most did not? The answer to this relates to the intersectional approach to gender. According to intersectional principles, an analysis of gender needs to take other factors, such as status and 33

Some examples are found in Harris, 2000: 113–114. In other words, gender is not something that “exists”; it is something that is “done.” See Svärd, 2016, where the discussion is largely based on West/Zimmerman, 1987 and West/ Zimmerman, 2009. 35 LAPO 18 text no. 1223 (ARM 10 text no. 31). Translation is from Sasson, 2015: 114, n. 233. Discussed in Urbano, 2018. 36 The ezib formulas are often present in oracular queries and their aim is to negate any mistakes or problems that might have occurred during the oracular proceedings. For more about the oracular queries as a genre, see the introduction to SAA 4; for more about these two texts in particular, see Svärd, 2015: 125–126. 34

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

62

Saana Svärd

age, into consideration. This begs the question, was a woman’s ability to give advice connected with age or a special connection with the divine (see the daughter of Zimri-lim above, as well as the female prophets), or perhaps with scribal learning? All of these could have been factors, but since the focus of this article has been on women close to the king, here we find a strong link between the high social status of the woman and her ability to act as a counselor. However, it seems highly improbable that femininity was constructed in the same way across the geographically and chronologically variegated “Mesopotamian culture.” When we talk about female sages in the ancient Near East, we are actually talking about myriad femininities (and other identities) that were being constructed.37 To sum up, the three case studies in this article strongly suggest that the role of mother as a counselor and “sage” for her son the king was well established both on the level of narrative creation of gender and on the level of social reality in first-millennium Mesopotamia. Regarding other eras and other women than mothers of the kings, the evidence is suggestive but more detailed studies are needed. Abbreviations LAPO 18 Durand, J.-M., 2000 : Les documents épistolaires du palais de Mari, Tome III. Littératures anciennes du Proche-Orient 18. Paris: Éditions du Cerf. SAA 2 Parpola, S. / Watanabe, K., 1988: Neo-Assyrian Treaties and Loyalty Oaths. State Archives of Assyria 2. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. SAA 4 Starr, I., 1990: Queries to the Sungod: Divination and Politics in Sargonid Assyria. State Archives of Assyria 4. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. SAA 10 Parpola, S., 1993: Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars. State Archives of Assyria 10. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. SAA 16 Luukko, M. / Van Buylaere, G., 2002: The Political Correspondence of Esarhaddon. State Archives of Assyria 16. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. SAA 20 Parpola, S., 2017: Assyrian Royal Rituals and Cultic Texts. State Archives of Assyria 20. Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project.

37

See further on gender, methodology, and Assyriology: Svärd, 2016 and the articles in the edited volume Svärd/Garcia-Ventura, 2018. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Akkadian Literature

63

Bibliography Abusch, T., 2015: Male and Female in the Epic of Gilgamesh: Encounters, Literary History, and Interpretation. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns. Beaulieu, Paul-Alain, 1989: The Reign of Nabonidus King of Babylon 556–539 B.C. Yale Near Eastern Researches 10; New Haven: Yale University Press. Deller, K., 1983: “Zum ana balāṭ-Formular einiger assyrischer Votivinschriften”. Oriens Antiquus no. 22, 13–24. Durand, J-M., 2000: Les documents épistolaires du palais de Mari, Tome III. Littératures anciennes du Proche-Orient 18. Paris: Éditions du Cerf. Fink, S., 2014: “Sardanapal – Ein Hedonist Aus Mesopotamien?” In From Source to History: Studies on Ancient near Eastern Worlds and Beyond, edited by S. Gaspa / A. Greco / D. Morandi Bonacossi / S. Ponchia / R. Rollinger. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 412. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Pp. 239–250. Foster, B., 1991: “On Authorship in Akkadian Literature”. Annali dell’Istituto Orientale di Napoli no. 51, 17–32. — 2005: Before the Muses: An Anthology of Akkadian Literature. 3rd ed. Bethesda, Maryland: CDL Press. George, A., 1999: The Epic of Gilgamesh. London: Allen Lane The Penguin Press. — 2003. The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic: Introduction, Critical Edition and Cuneiform Texts, vol. 1–2. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Halton, C. / Svärd, S., 2018: Women’s Writing of Ancient Mesopotamia: An Anthology of the Earliest Female Authors. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Harris, R., 2000: Gender and Aging in Mesopotamia: The Gilgamesh Epic and Other Ancient Literature. Norman, Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press. Haul, M., 2009. Stele und Legende: Untersuchungen zu den Keilschriftlichen Erzählwerken über die Könige von Akkade. Göttinger Beiträge zum Alten Orient 4. Göttingen: Universitätsverlag Göttingen. Klinger J., 2011: “Texte der Hethiter”. In B. Janowski / D. Schwemer (eds.): Grab-, Sarg-, Bau- und Votivinschriften. Texte aus der Umwelt des Alten Testaments N.F. 6. Gütersloh: Güthersloher Verlagshaus. Pp. 71–77. Lion, B. 2011: “Literacy and Gender”. In K. Radner / E. Robson (eds.): The Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture, edited by. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pp. 90–112. Longman, T. 1991: Fictional Akkadian Autobiography: A Generic and Comparative Study. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns. Luukko, M. / Van Buylaere, G., 2002: The Political Correspondence of Esarhaddon. State Archives of Assyria 16. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. Melville, S., 2004: “Neo-Assyrian Royal Women and Male Identity: Status as a Social Tool”. Journal of the American Oriental Society no. 124 (1), 37–57.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

64

Saana Svärd

Nissinen, M., 2013: “Gender and Prophetic Agency in the Ancient Near East and in Greece”. In J. Stökl / C. L. Carvalho (eds.): Prophets Male and Female: Gender and Prophecy in the Hebrew Bible, the Eastern Mediterranean and the Ancient Near East. Ancient Israel and Its Literature 15. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. Pp. 27–58. Parpola, S., 1993: Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars. State Archives of Assyria 10. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. — 2017: Assyrian Royal Rituals and Cultic Texts. State Archives of Assyria 20. Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project. Parpola, S. / Watanabe, K., 1988: Neo-Assyrian Treaties and Loyalty Oaths. State Archives of Assyria 2. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. Sasson, J., 2015: From the Mari Archives: An Anthology of Old Babylonian Letters. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns. Schaudig, H., 2001: Die Inschriften Nabonids von Babylon und Kyros’ des Großen samt den in ihrem Umfeld entstandenen Tendenzschriften: Textausgabe und Grammatik. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 256. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Starr, I.,1990: Queries to the Sungod: Divination and Politics in Sargonid Assyria. State Archives of Assyria 4. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. Svärd, S., 2015: Women and Power in Neo-Assyrian Palaces. State Archives of Assyria Studies 23. Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project. — 2016: “Studying Gender: A Case Study of Female Administrators in Neo-Assyrian Palaces”. In Brigitte Lion / Cécile Michel (eds.): The Role of Women in Work and Society in the Ancient Near East. Studies in Ancient Near Eastern Records 13. Boston: Walter De Gruyter. Pp. 447–458. — forthcoming: “Women in Neo-Assyrian Temples and Cult”. In Interaction, Interplay and Combined Use of Different Sources in Neo-Assyrian Studies, edited by Raija Mattila, Daisuke Shibata and Shigeo Yamada. Svärd, S. / Garcia-Ventura, A. (eds.), 2018 : Studying Gender in the Ancient Near East. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Urbano, L., 2018: “Marriage Policy in Mari: A Field of Power between Domination and Resistance”. In Saana Svärd / Agnès Garcia-Ventura (eds.): Studying Gender in the Ancient Near East. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Pp. 423– 445. West, C. / Zimmerman, D., 1987: “Doing Gender”. Gender and Society 1/2, 125– 151. — 2009: “Accounting for Doing Gender”. Gender and Society 23/1, 112–122.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Male Sages in Akkadian Literature Raija Mattila1

In Akkadian texts wisdom is a property attested in gods, mythical sages, kings and scholars, and only very rarely associated with others. Many of the words for wisdom/wise in the Akkadian language are associated with hearing and with having large ears,2 others with knowledge and competence.3 Gods In the Mesopotamian worldview wisdom was seen to have originated in the primeval sweet waters, a fresh water ocean (apsû) situated beneath the earth. Among the male gods the foremost in regard to wisdom was Ea, the king of apsû: “(…) with the skill that the god Ea, king of the apsû who grants counsel and understanding, gave to me I rebuilt for her (= Ištar) this temple (…).”4 Ea was the sage among the gods: “Ea, the sage (apkallu) among the gods, who knows everything.”5 Wisdom was a usual epithet also for other main gods.6 In the case of Ea’s offspring Nabû wisdom was associated especially with mastering of the scribal art: “(…) heir of the god Nudimmud (= Ea), whose command is supreme, skilled in the arts, trustee of all heaven and underworld, expert in everything, wise (rapša uzni), the holder of the tablet stylus, learned in the scribal art (…).”7

1

With “male sages” I have included male gods and male mythical figures, as well as kings and scholars, and by “Akkadian literature” I understand all texts written in Akkadian, not only the literary texts. Many of the traditions do of course have a Sumerian background but the texts used in this article were written in Akkadian, and date mainly to the 1st millennium BC. 2 ḫasāsu, “to listen to, to head a deity, to remember, to be mindful of, to refer to, to be intelligent, to plan”; ḫasīsu “aperture of the ear, hearing, understanding”; ḫassu “wise, intelligent”; palkû uzni, rapaš uzni “large of ears”. 3 mudû “wise, knowledgeable” (from idû “to know”); enqu, eršu “wise”, igigallu “wisdom (lit. large eyes)”. For a discussion of the term wisdom and words used for it in Akkadian, see Galter, 1983. 4 From an inscription of Assurnasirpal II, RIMA2 A.0.101.38. 5 Codex Hammurapi, CH xlii 102 apkal ilī mūdê mimma šumšu. 6 See the entries for eršu and emqu in the Assyrian Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. 7 Dedication on statues of the god Nabû, RIMA 3 A.O.104.2002, 2–4. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

66

Raija Mattila

Mythical sages The mythical seven sages (apkallū) lived before the Flood. They were often presented in fish form, particularly as apotropaic figurines or as protective spirits depicted in reliefs and seals.8 The apkallū are clearly described as fish in a ritual text: “They are the seven brilliant purādu-fish, purādu-fish from the sea, the seven sages who were created in the river, who ensure the correct execution of the plan of heaven and earth.”9 Best known of the mythical seven sages was Adapa, an ancient sage and priest, in some versions a cook, from the city of Eridu, the holy city of Ea.10 The Adapa myth, a fragmentary and difficult text, relates how Adapa accidentally breaks the wing of the south wind while fishing, and ascends to heaven to explain this incident. Following the advice of Ea, Adapa refuses the bread and water of life offered to him, and is able to return back on earth in possession of divine wisdom. Adapa is frequently mentioned as a paragon of wisdom in Neo-Assyrian royal inscriptions and in the letters that the scholars sent to the king (for examples see below under Kings). Adapa was identified with U’an, the first of the seven antediluvian sages, who revealed divine wisdom to humanity. The story of U’an is told by Berossos in the 3rd century BC in the Babyloniaka where U’an is called Oannes. Oannes, who emerges from the sea, has the body of a fish, but a human head and human feet, and he “gave to the men the knowledge of letters and sciences and crafts of all type.”11 He taught men the founding of cities and temples, and how to introduce laws and measure land. Though not counted among the seven sages, the survivor of the Mesopotamian Flood story, and the only mortal ever to be granted eternal life, was called “The Extremely Wise”, i.e. Atra-ḫasis. According to the Atra-ḫasis Epic12 he survived the Flood because Ea warned him about the plan of the other gods to destroy mankind, and Atra-ḫasis heard Ea’s words through a reed wall. Here again hearing, heading to the word of gods, is the ultimate source of wisdom. Atra-ḫasis is also attested as an epithet of Adapa,13 and in both of these myths immortality, like wisdom, is a central theme and a property reserved for the gods.

8

For illustrations, see Parpola, 1993: xx–xxiv. The apotropaic series Bīt mēseri III 10–13. The passage is here quoted from Lenzi, 2008: 110. 10 For the Adapa myth, see Annus, 2016, and Parpola, 1993: xix. 11 See Parpola, 1993: xviii for a translation and discussion of the text. 12 For the Atra-ḫasis myth, see Lambert/Millard, 1999. 13 See Annus, 2016: 17 for the interconnections of the Adapa and the Atra-ḫasis myths. 9

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Male Sages in Akkadian Literature

67

Kings The wisdom of kings was granted to them by the gods.14 King Hammurapi refers in his law code to “wisdom (igigallim) that Ea decreed for me.”15 The wisdom granted by the gods is a recurrent theme also in the Neo-Assyrian royal inscriptions: “With the keen understanding and wisdom (ina uzni nikilti ḫasīsi) that the sage of the gods, the prince, the god Nudimmud (= Ea), granted to me, I built in Kalhu a cedar palace (...).”16 Of the Assyrian kings Assurbanipal is well known for his personal interest in the scribal art. The tablets in his library in Nineveh bore colophons that described his interest. One example of the colophons reads: “Palace of Assurbanipal, king of the world, king of Assyria, whom Nabû and Tašmetu endowed with great wisdom, and who with a sharp eye acquired the gems of literature. While none of the kings who preceded me had learned that craft, with the wisdom of Nabû I wrote on tablets all extant cuneiform writings, checked, and collated them, and established them in my palace for my reference and reading.”17 The wisdom of the ruler was praised by scholars serving the king: the king was wise, circumspect, his words were perfect and he had a large heart, the king is equalled with the mythical sage, apkallu, and called an offspring of an apkallu and of Adapa. The Babylonian scholar Bel-ušezib ended his letter to Esarhaddon denouncing intrigues against the king in the words: “You (= the king) are able, wise and circumspect! May the king do as he sees best.” 18 Babylonians who petitioned to the king wrote in their letter: “(…) the gods bestowed great wisdom and magnanimity (uznu rapaštu u libbi rapšu) to you.”19 In a letter praising Assurbanipal’s rhetoric the king’s speech is equalled to that of the apkallu: “(…) you will speak a word that is as perfect as that of a sage (apkallu) a word that has been spoken just as it is meant by its nature, by its (…), by its dignity, (that) suits the context, is (such a word) open to dispute? Does it not inspire awe? Is this not the very acme of scribal art (…).”20

14

For the divine origin of the wisdom of the rulers, see also Pongratz-Leisten, 1999: 293– 307. 15 Codex Hammurapi xlvii 26–27. 16 From an inscription of Tiglath-pileser III. RINAP 1, Tiglat-pileser III 47 r.17´. 17 BAK 319. 18 SAA 10 112, s. 2–4: ḫassi u putqudu atta. 19 SAA 18 158, 7. 20 SAA 10 30, r.3–9. The sender’s name is missing but the letter was most probably sent by the chief scribe. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

68

Raija Mattila

In his letter to Assurbanipal the chief haruspex Marduk-šumu-usur calls the king a sage and an offspring of Adapa, and goes in his praise as far as to say that the king has surpassed the wisdom of the apsû: “Aššur in a dream, called the grandfather of the king, my lord, a sage (apkallu); the king, lord of the kings, is an offspring of a sage and Adapa; you have surpassed the wisdom (nēmēqu) of the apsû and all scholarship.”21 Scholars The true wise men in Mesopotamia were the scholars, ummânū. The inner circle of scholars consisted of the highest representatives of the five disciplines: astrology, extispicy, exorcism, medicine and lamentation. The most prominent scholars corresponded frequently with the kings. This is best attested in the royal correspondence of Esarhaddon and Assurbanipal in the Neo-Assyrian era.22 The largest number of letters were sent by Adad-šumu-usur, king’s exorcist, 56 letters; Marduk-šakin-šumi, chief exorcist, 39 letters; Issar-šumu-ereš, chief scribe, 35 letters.23 To what extent the mortal scholars identified themselves with the mythical sages, the apkallū, has been subject to scholarly debate.24 Simo Parpola sees that the Neo-Assyrian scholars, ummânū, considered themselves as the human successors of the apkallū. 25 However, explicit textual evidence of the connection can first be seen in a late Seleucid cuneiform text dating to the mid-2nd century BC, the Uruk list. The text lists seven antediluvian apkallū (sages) with their kings, one post-diluvian apkallu with his king Enmerkar, and nine ummânū (scholars) with their kings starting from Gilgamesh and ending with Esarhaddon.26 Alan Lenzi has convincingly argued that the tradition displayed in the Uruk list can already be detected in texts of the Neo-Assyrian era including Bīt mēseri, which shares the mention of the apkallu Nungalpiriggal with the Uruk list.27 After an in depth analysis of the sources Lenzi concludes: “The ummânū fashioned themselves – consciously or unconsciously – into the scribal heirs of the antediluvian sages, themselves closely allied with Ea, the patron deity of the ummânū. This relationship of scribal succession gave mythological support for the roles of the ummânū at court and in so-

21

SAA 10 174. Published in Parpola, 1993. 23 Parpola, 1993: xxvi Table 1. 24 See Lenzi, 2000: 107–120. 25 Parpola, 1993: xviii. 26 Lenzi, 2008: 108. 27 Lenzi, 2000: 110. 22

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Male Sages in Akkadian Literature

69

ciety as ritual experts, counsellors to the king, and authors of important cuneiform works.”28 Others Though highly competent men worked in the Mesopotamian administration of royal and provincial palaces and in the temples, wisdom is usually not associated with even the highest officials. A remarkable exception was the chief eunuch of king Shamshi-Adad V: 29 “On my second campaign I issued orders and sent Mutaqqin-Aššur, the chief eunuch, one wise (eršu) and experienced in battle (mūdê tuqunti), a man of judgement (ṭēme), with my troops and camp to the land of Nairi.” Descriptions of the qualities of the high officials are indeed rare. This is largely due to the nature of the sources, as most of our knowledge concerning the highest office holders and their duties comes from letters. Assyrian letters in particular are almost void of description and consist mainly of direct speech or quotations of direct speech. As an example one can mention Ṭab-šar-Aššur, treasurer of Sargon II, who was responsible for the construction of the king’s new capital DurSharruken (Fort of Sargon) and several other major building projects in Assur, Calah, and Nineveh. He is known as the author of over 40 letters to the king. He was eponym in 717, the only of the highest officials to have been given the honour during the reign of Sargon II. Despite all this, the only text where his qualities are described is the so-called “Letter to Aššur” where he is described as an orator “The best orator, Ṭab-šar-Aššur, chief treasurer, brought (the tablet) to Assur, my lord.” He is acknowledged for his rhetorical skills, whereas wisdom is never mentioned. 30 Wisdom was reserved for gods, kings, and mythical sages and human scholars. Abbreviations BAK Codex Hammurapi SAA 10 SAA 18 RIMA 3 RINAP 1

Hunger, 1968 Roth, 1995: 71–142 Parpola, 1993 Reynolds, 2003 Grayson, 1996 Tadmor/Yamada, 2011

28

Lenzi, 2008: 120. RIMA 3 A.0.103.1 ii 16–21. Chief eunuch is here acting in the role of the king and is attributed with qualities of the king. 30 See Mattila/Harjumäki, 2015: 16–17. 29

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

70

Raija Mattila

Bibliography Annus, A., 2016: The Overturned Boat: Intertextuality of the Adapa Myth and Exorcist Literature. State Archives of Assyria Studies 24. Winona Lake. Galter, H., 1983: “Die Wörter für Weisheit im Akkadischen”. In I. Seybold (ed.): Meqor Hajjim. Festschrift für G. Molin zum 75. Geburtstag. Graz. Pp. 89– 105. Grayson, A.K., 1996: Assyrian Rulers of the Early First Millennium II (858–745 BC). The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia. Assyrian Periods, Volume 3. Toronto. Hunger, H., 1968: Babylonische und assyrische Kolophone. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 2. Kevelaer/Neukirchen-Vluyn. Lambert, W.G. / Millard, A.R., 1999: Atra-ḫasis: The Babylonian Story of the Flood. Winona Lake (reprint of Oxford 1969). Lenzi, A., 2008: Secrecy and the Gods. Secret Knowledge in Ancient Mesopotamia and Biblical Israel. State Archives of Assyria Studies 19. Vammala. Mattila, R. / Harjumäki, J., 2015: “Change or Chance? Studying Change in NeoAssyrian Administration”. In N.N. May / S. Svärd (eds.): Change in NeoAssyrian Imperial Administration: Evolution and Revolution. State Archives of Assyria Bulletin 21, 11–20. Parpola, S., 1993: Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars. State Archives of Assyria 10. Helsinki. Pongratz-Leisten, B., 1999: Herrschaftswissen in Mesopotamien. State Archives of Assyria Studies 10. Helsinki. Reynolds, Fr., 2003: The Babylonian Correspondence of Esarhaddon and Letters to Assurbanipal and Sin-šarru-iškun from Northern and Central Babylonia. State Archives of Assyria 18. Helsinki. Roth, M., 1995: Law Collections from Mesopotamia and Asia Minor. Writings from the Ancient World 6. Atlanta. Tadmor, H. / Yamada, Sh., 2011: The Royal Inscriptions of Tiglath-pileser III (744–727 BC) and Shalmaneser V (726–722 BC), Kings of Assyria. The Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period, Volume 1. Winona Lake.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages / Wisemen in Ancient Egypt Pascal Vernus

As it often happens, the very notion that constitutes the topic of these collected papers is somewhat a little bit fuzzy. Being wise may be a feature here and there recognized in some people, but merely as a marginal and occasional feature, not closely relevant to what basically defines their status in the society. Now, to the contrary, being considered as wise men or sages, in a socio-cultural perspective, may be the hallmark that gives a group of people their particular and salient status in the society, and is susceptible to bring about their canonization – in the weak sense of the term1 – as such. Needless to say, the two meanings are closely bound. The reputation of being wise can extend from a restricted circle to a large audience and can lead a man to be received into the socially recognized group of wise men or sages by his contemporaries and by his posterity. 1. Great men selected as such by their posterity In pharaonic Egypt, wise men or sages constitute a subset within the category of “great men”, that is to say men who enjoyed a fame in their posterity because they made outstanding achievements or underwent outstanding experiences during their life. Note that the Egyptian approximate correlate of the English phrase “great men” does appear under the wording rmt-aA. In the Ramesside Period, it refers to distinguished people among a community, “the notables” so to say (Lesko, 1982–1990 II: 63)2. In the late period, the phrase actually involves an exceptional status (Quaegebeur, 1977b: 142). One may speak of “deified humans” (von Lieven, 2010), although the word “deified” should not be taken always at its strict face value. Actually, there are different degrees in the “deification” of these great men, from the simple recognition as prestigious persons in the cultural memory, with a possible – but not ineluctable and systematic – transfiguration as heroes of epic stories and legends, to the promotion as intercessors between gods and humans, and to the ultimate stage, the reception in the Egyptian pantheon and the attribution of divine parentage. I will sketch briefly what kind of subsets the category of great men encompasses, focusing on the cases where these great men might show something related to wisdom.

1

For the two basic meanings of “canon”, both legitimate, but requiring to be clearly distinguished, see Vernus, 2016: 274–276. 2 Add the significant use of the phrase referring to dead notables in pBM 10052 vs 10, 6 (Vernus, 2003a: 37). © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

72

Pascal Vernus

2. Pharaohs as great men It does not enter into the scope of this paper to offer an exhaustive discussion of the complex issue raised by the deification of several pharaohs selected by local and national traditions3. It lies on different reasons. Not the least is the particular development of their funerary cult (Baines, 1987: 89, n. 50; Leclant/Berger, 1996: 503, n. 24; El-Enany, 2003; Morales, 2006; etc.). Another reason is the remarkable achievements for the cult of the gods, including works carried out in their temples, successful efforts made to increase their offerings, to renew their furniture, to enhance the situations of their staff, etc. (Blumenthal, 2013; Widmer, 2002; Ryholt, 2009: 232). Very illustrative is this judgment about a pharaoh of the past in the mouth of a high official: “a great sovereign who made ten imposing works for Amun-Re, king of the gods. His monuments are in place in his central quarter to this day.” (pAbbott r° 6, 3–4; Vernus, 2003a: 17). A pharaoh can also be promoted as a salient figure, involving “deification”, due to his activities in foreign countries, his military exploits and conquests; this is the case of Snefru, Sesostris I, Sesostris III and Ramses II (Obsomer, 1989; Gozzoli, 2008; Ryholt, 2010; Quack, 2013: 64; El-Enany, 2014; etc.). Closer to our topic are the cases of pharaohs that were celebrated because of their cultic and cultural achievements. The most eminent royalties buried in the Theban Necropolis were subject of a distinguished devotion during the New Kingdom (Moore, 2013). A case should be underscored, the case of Amenhotep I (circa 1514–1493 B.C.). Often associated with his mother Ahmes Nefertary, he received a cult among the Theban people (Andreu, 2002; von Lieven, 2000; 2001; Hollender, 2009; 2010: 3; Ali, 2015), including his promotion as oracle, not only because he had started the new development of the Karnak temple, but also because he had refreshed the ceremonial practices and renewed the liturgies, being the spiritual father of a new offering ritual which had gained a paramount position in the cult (Tacke, 2013: 290). In this domain, he acted, maybe allegedly, as a learned one, sharing a merit which, elsewhere, contributed to the promotion of outstanding personalities among the wise men/sages; see infra, the case of Khaemuast. 3. Commoners as great men at extended family level It not rarely happened that a particularly influent member of the “households” (Moreno Garcia, 2010; id., 2013), the “extended family” or the “domestic groups” (Willems, 2015), was considered as a kind of “godfather” (Franke, 2006; Campagno, 2014), or a “saint patron” (Donnat, 2009: 62). He was supposed to have been successfully buried and provided with the mortuary rituals, and thus to have reached a new state which allowed him to enjoy a new life in the hereafter, having 3

Basic contributions: Otto, 1942; 1957; Wildung, 1969; id., 1977b; Quaegebeur, 1977; Goedicke, 1986; Gundlach, 1986; Wegner, 2001; von Lieven, 2010. Bickel, 2002, while starting from a particular case, offers discussions of general interest about the issue. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

73

become a “transfigured one”, in Egyptian Ax (Janak, 2013: 2; Donnat/Moreno Garcia, 2013: 181; Donnat Beauquier, 2014: 87–91), or more extensively a Ax jqr “a competent transfigured one” (Demaree, 1983; 2002)4. Interestingly enough for our topic, the adjective jqr, conventionally translated by “competent”, far for being a mere ornament, refers to the particular knowledges, frequently claimed by the transfigured ones (Edel, 1944: 19–21), and susceptible to be used for their benefit by their survivors (Donnat, 2002: 225). This knowledge was sometimes overtly described as the magical capacity (HkAw) of a lector-priest and the science of a learned scribe. For instance: “I am a competent transfigured-one, a lector-priest, a magician, a learned (rx-x.t) scribe.” (Altenmüller, 2012) We will see later that “learned (rx-x.t)” can be applied to wise men/sages. More, these exceptional capacities happen to be characterized in the phrase “provided with his capacity of transfiguring” (apr m Axw=f). It involves Axw, a term which – as we will see infra – is applied not only to the magicians, but also to the “talent” of the wise men/sages (Fischer-Elfert/Grimm, 2003: 71 and pl. XXII, l. 13). The capacities of the transfigured ones allowed them to intervene and interact in the existence of the living ones, and to be a link between gods and men. They were questioned about issues that living persons were facing and, more generally, about future, substantiating the existence of a necromancia (Ritner, 2002). 4. Commoners as great men at a local level In pharaonic Egypt and its Greco-Roman aftermaths, distinguished commoners – almost always belonging to the elite5 – not infrequently reached such a prestige in the local memory that they enjoyed cults and ritual celebrations among the local populations (Lesko, 2001; De Meulenaere, 2006). These local heroes were often regional high officials, famed for their achievements, such as Heqa-jb in Elephantine (Franke, 1994), Tef-ib in Assiut (Kahl, 2012), Isi in Edfu (Alliot, 1937), Shemay in Coptos (Moreno Garcia, 2006: 229), Medunefer in Balat (Donnat/Moreno Garcia, 2013: 194), and others (Collombert, 1995: 77, n. 69). They could be also high-status people whose tombs and funerary cults were significant in a necropolis, for instance, in Saqqara and in Giza necropolis (Fischer, 1965; Baines, 1987: 88; Vernus, 1997: 438). The fame of a local great man, crossing over two centuries, could have incited a powerful person to restore his monuments and add a new one, assuming the great man’s interaction in return (Jansen-Winkeln, 1997; Perdu, 2012).

4

For the possible three-dimensional embodiment of the basic idea in the so-called “ancestor bust”, see Exell, 2008. 5 Symptomatically, the great men are sometimes designated as “great high officials” (sr.w aA.w), for instance in pAthen 1825, see infra, n. 53. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

74

Pascal Vernus

In the late period, warriors were susceptible to be “deified” (Bolshakov/Soushchevsky, 1998), as much as persons who died a special death – drowning or else – which was considered as the mark of “divine agency” (von Lieven, 2010: 3). They were called Hsy.w “praised ones”, or Hry.w “superiors” (Quaegebeur, 1977b: 139–143; von Lieven, 2017: 240). Some wise men/sages, Iymhotep and Amenhotep son of Hapu (see infra) happen to have been designated as such, and more generally, the wisdom of the sages turns out to be ultimately the manifestation of the divine agency. Interestingly enough, the local fame of the royal scribe Thotemheb, who lived during the reign of Ramses II, was such that he inspired the figure of the physician who diagnosed the illness of a Hittite princess and was described as a “learned one” (rx-x.t) (Cannuyer, 2001), in a fiction relating the call for help to the pharaoh by foreigners facing a desperate case6. In the New Kingdom, late in the reign of Ramses II (circa 1279–1213 B.C.), the veneration for local great men incited a man, whose name remains unknown, but who belonged to a family of priests of Ptah and Bastet, to represent in his now lost tomb the past celebrities of the region of Memphis, a case which should be distinguished from the custom, at certain period, of establishing long and partly fictional genealogies. Maybe thirty “hommes illustres” are depicted as standing mummies. Others are simply mentioned in a line of inscriptions between two registers of representations. All are subsumed under the general designation: “the great transfigured ones (Ax.w aA.w) of the Occident of Ânkhtauy (= Memphis)” (Mathieu, 2012)7. In front of each of them, a caption indicates his title and name. Some of them are well-known writers of didactic works, or, at least, personalities whose names had been associated with pseudepigraphical didactic works: the vizier Ptahhotep, the vizier Kagemni, the vizier Kairse, the lector priest Khakkeperreseneb, the director of singers Ipuur, and probably the “master of largess” SaChety, to be identified with the famous Chety. Granted the last possible identification8, these six writers belong to the “canonized” ogdoad of the wise men/sages (see infra). Let us underscore that a commoner woman – not taking into account the cases of queens and princesses– is known to have been so much famed within her city that she was deified in the Late Period: it is Udjarenes, a former priestess of the god Neferhotep of Hut-Sekhem, in Upper Egypt (Collombert, 1995).

6

The text is known by the so-called Bakhtan Stela (Witthun / Sternberg el-Hotabi / alii, 2015). 7 Mathieu’s contribution is absolutely remarkable and worthy of the utmost interest. However, I hesitate to follow him when he considers that all the great men mentioned on the monument were writers. Most of them might have been celebrated for other merits. 8 An Iymhotep is mentioned, but Mathieu, quite convincingly, dispels an identification with the sage Iymhotep. See infra for the available data about him. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

75

5. Magicians as “great men” and their close relationships with wise men/sages Let us make clear that in pharaonic Egypt, magic far from being relegated to the margins, is wholly institutionalized, and that magicians share the same social status as priests and learned ones. “Nowhere are magicians singled out as a class or profession distinct from other intellectuals” (Fox, 1980: 129 n. 20). For instance, in a Late Period tale, known by the Papyrus Vandier (Hoffmann/Quack, 2007: 153–160; Agut-Labordère/Chauveau, 2011: 3–11), magicians are depicted as members of pharaoh’s court and are regularly consulted by him9. Such a situation is reflected in the Bible (Exodus 7, 8; see Kadish, 2001: 508). Their competence was challenged by a young scribe, who was also called a magician, and who was indeed very good as a scribe, so good that the other magicians grew jealous and feared that pharaoh might substitute him for them (pVandier 1, 1–2). Indeed, they were different categories of magicians (Koenig, 1994: chapter 1). The most influential are often referred to as “lector-priest” (Xry-Hb.t), literally “the-one-in-charge-of-the-ceremonial-scroll” – which implies their mastering religious writings. The title is frequently associated with the title “chief” (Hry-tp) (Ritner,1993: 203 and 220–221), which is at the origin of the hartummîm in the Bible, as established by the late Jan Quaegebeur in a famous contribution (Quaegebeur, 1987). Now, magicians could get a fame that promoted them to the category of great men. A fine illustration is provided in a tale – or more exactly in a set of sequential tales within a frame tale – from the Second Intermediate Period (1650–1750 B.C.), written down on the Papyrus Westcar. The manuscript, alas incomplete, does not provide any title, which accounts for the fact that it has been referred to under different designations in the Egyptological tradition, for instance “King Cheops and the magicians”, “Tales of Wonder at the Court of King Cheops” (Quirke, 2004: 71), “Cheops’ Court” (Parkinson, 2002: 141), or simply “Papyrus Westcar”10. The frame tale stages Cheops’ sons trying to amuse him with wonderful tales. The one among them who plays the most important role is Hordjedef, whom the posterity will promote among the eight canonic wise men/sages (see infra) 11 . The sequential tales stage four magicians accomplishing wonders by simply uttering words provided with magic power. “Then he said what he had to say as magic” (aHa-n Dd-n=f Dd.t=f m HkAw: pWestcar 6, 11 and 8, 24–25). The first one is almost entirely lost. The second one relates the animation of a wax crocodile by the magician Ubainer. The third one tells how the magician Djadjaemankh succeeded on setting one half of a lake on the other one, and then had 9

By the way, note that in New Kingdom, in a similar situation, it was “the scribes and the learned ones” (zS.w rxy.w-xt) who were consulted (Tale of the two brothers, pD’Orbiney 11, 4). 10 As expected, the work raised a huge bibliography, the most recent thorough treatment being Lepper, 2008. 11 Iymhotep was probably staged in the first, almost lost, tale, see Wildung, 1977a:18. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

76

Pascal Vernus

them return to their original positions. In the fourth one, the magician Djedi joined the previously severed heads of two different geese and of a bull. Ubainer is a “lector-priest” (Xry-Hb.t) and “chief” (Hry-tp); so does Djadjaemankh, but he is also, moreover, “scribe of the book” (zS mDA.t, pWestcar 6, 17). Djedi is only a commoner (nDs; cf; Franke, 1998), but he is one hundred and ten years, the Egyptian ideal old age, which warrants his experience of life, may be with “humorous intent” (Parkinson, 2002: 185). Moreover, when he has to travel, he requires a cargo for his books, which implies that he masters writings (pWestcar 8, 3–4; Morenz, 1996: 117). Leaving aside the far more complex plot of the fourth tale, I think it is very noteworthy for our topic that the exploit of Ubainer and the exploit of Djadjaemankh are referred, in each case, as “his act of knowledge” (zp=f n rx: pWestcar 4, 16–17 and 6, 21). This shows clearly how magic was basically considered as a matter of knowledge. Hence, the close relationship of great magicians with wise men/sages who also distinguish themselves by their knowledge, as we are going to see. In the demotic tales, magic actions, which take an overwhelming importance in the plot, are accomplished by learned heroes. “In the Demotic Siosiris story, the magician who defends Egypt in a contest of magic is a librarian of the temple of Khnum” (Fox, 1980: 129 n. 20). The overlap between magic and wisdom and hence between “magicians” and “wise men/sages” shows up in the iconography of the personification of magic, the god Heka – whose name means “the magician” – according to illuminating analysis of John Baines (2012). He pointed out that sometimes Heka is depicted with attributes such as fatness and staff, which are indicators of the authority bound with old age, so that “a deliberate analogy was made between the human role of an older wise man and the personification of magic” (Baines, 2012: 55). Magic relies on knowledge, and knowledge was associated with old age, as we have seen in the case of Djedi. For all that, the god happens to be called the “eldest magician” (smsw HkAw). Other facts clearly illustrate the close link between magicians and wise men/sages. Iymhotep, who was a member of the canonized ogdoad of the wise men/sages (see infra) is not infrequently provided with the titles “lector-priest” (Hry-Hb.t) and “chief” (Hry-tp)12 – which elsewhere can apply to magicians13 – not only in the Greco-Roman times (Wildung, 1977a: 144–14, 151, etc.; Quack, 2014), but also probably on contemporaneous or, at least, on nearly contempora12

Note also that he happens to bear the title zS mDA.t nTr “scribe of the divine book” (Wildung, 1977a: 147), which reminds the zS mDAt, a title born by the magician Djadjaemankh in the Tales of papyrus Westcar. 13 The reading Xry-Hb(.t) Hry-tp as a title of Amenhotep son of Hapu in the pLouvre N 3248 by Wildung, 1977a: 273, is wrong; see Wüthrich, 2015: 224. For the title Hry-tp as a possible reinterpretation on a pseudepigraphical inscription allegedly attributed to him, see infra. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

77

neous monuments and objects (Wildung, 1977a: 9, § 2,2, 2, 6; 1977b: 32). Amenhotep son of Hapu was sometimes provided with the same title (CGC 1199 = Wildung, 1977a: 251). Wise men/sages share with practicians of divination – although via different techniques – a capacity of foretelling and divination that ultimately pertains to magic (Demichelis, 2002: 158). Neferty, also a member of the ogdoad of the wise men/sages, and famous for his “prophecy” – a typical hallmark of wise men/sages – is both a lector-priest and a “learned one” (rx-x.t), a term applied to the canonized wise men/sages (see infra). The herdsmen who are capable of uttering magic formula, are referred to as “learned ones” (rx.w-x.t) (Tale of herdsman, Parkinson, 2009: 321–322; see Brunner, 1966: 32)14. Khaemuast, whom his posterity promoted among the wise men/sages, inspired the character of Setne Khaemuast in the demotic literature. This hero turns out to be repeatedly involved in magical practices (Hoffmann/Quack, 2007: 118–15; AgutLabordère/Chauveau, 2011: 17–65). On a papyrus, a magical spell used to protect against the dead is entitled: “To make you know the competent transfigured ones (Ax.w jqr.w), and the great high officials (sr.w aA.w).” (pAthens 1826 = Fischer-Elfert, 2002) It has a vignette where twenty-two persons are represented in two sets. In front of their faces, their names are inscribed. Among them, there are the magicians Ubainer and Djadjaemankh, known by the pWestcar (see supra). But there are also Iymhotep, Hordjedef, Chety, and probably Nefer(ty), Ptah(hotep), Hapu for Amenhotep son of Hapu (?) 15 (Fischer-Elfert, 2002: 177–178; id., 2003: 129; Lepper, 2008: 307–308), that is to say, five members of the canonized ogdoad of the wise men/sages. It is significant that these five “literary culture-heroes become talismans of healing” (Parkinson, 2009: 189), and are associated as protectors with famous magicians on a magical piece of papyrus, which should be worn as an amulet hanging around the neck. What accounts for such an association? Wise men/sages and magicians share knowledge of the principles that rule the world, transmitted from the primordial times. They also share language mastering as a manner of “transfiguring” (sAx), understood as eliciting a new state or situation from a previous one via supra normal power (Vernus, 2010: 153, n. 58, see infra).

14

Ritner, 1993: 231, put forward a more restricted interpretation: according to him rx.wx.t nw mnjw.w would refer to “trained magicians and not educated herdsmen”. But the iconographic data that can be associated with the passage of the Tale of herdsman depict the men who are reciting the spells in the same context as standard herdsmen, including untidy beard, a sign of marginalization (Vernus, 2012: 112). 15 The name Hpw could be reminiscent of Amenhotep son of Hapu (Fischer-Elfert, 2002: 178). The name Ipy was considered to be an abreviation of Ipu[wer] by Lepper, 2008: 307. Then the list would encompass another famous writer, not included in the ogdoad, but mentioned among the prestigious ancestors in the list from a tomb of a Ramesside official in Saqqara, see supra. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

78

Pascal Vernus

We will see that HkAw, the standard term for “magic” is used when referring to the exceptional talent of the wise men/sages (infra). 6. Woman mastering religious-magical knowledge: the case of the “knowing one (woman)” (tA rx.t) While men are obviously prevailing among people that distinguish by their particular knowledges, women are not being totally absent, and since the workshop which justified the present contribution was overtly involving a gendered approach, I will dwell a little bit upon the scanty available material pertaining to this particular point. Indeed, some data suggest the existence of women who were recognized for their particular competence about the good and evil that occur during the life of individuals and their divine origin in village communities, particularly in the community of workmen of Deir el-Medina (Toivari-Vittala, 2001: 228). A woman of this kind was usually consulted and was called “the knowing one (woman)” (tA rx.t). For a comprehensive treatment, see Karl, 2000. Let us quote just two illustrating passages, probably from letters: “Enquire from “the knowing one (woman)” (tA rx.t) about the fact that the two boys died. Was it their (unexpected) fate or was it their (by their birth circumstances determined) destiny?16 And enquire for me and examine the life which is mine and the life of their mother. As for any god whom one will [mention] to you following that, write about his name.” (oLetellier; Karl, 2000: 13417). “You should make up your mind to look for “one knowing one (woman)” (wa rx.t) and enquire about the manifestations which are in the woman18. For [N?] said: ‘It is the manifestations of Thueris, lady of heaven, which are acting against her’ concerning it.” (oIFAO 1690 = Fischer-Elfert, 1993: 126; Karl, 2000: 134) There are a couple of akin fragmentary data alluding to the particular competence of “the knowing one (woman)” (tA rx.t) for finding out which god could have been afflicting some people via his manifestations (bAw, see Borghouts, 1982: 24–25; Fischer-Elfert, 2005: 124), and another one that seems to show her anticipating the decision of an oracle (Borghouts, 1982: 20). As far as we can see, a “knowing one (woman)” (rx.t) seems particularly mastering knowledges pertaining to the manifestations of the gods and the blows of cruel fate they are susceptible to deal 16

The text plays on the opposition between Shay (SA) and Renenet (rnn.t), which is a very thorny problem. See Quaegebeur, 1975: 152–153; Baines, 1994; Karl, 2000: 147–148; and the bibliography given by Fischer-Elfert, 1999: 64; Vernus, 2010: 295, n. 65. 17 Main edition in Letellier, 1980; see also Grandet, 2002: n° 61; text in Kitchen, 1989: 257–258; translations in Wente, 1990: 141–142, and in McDowell, 1999: 114–115, n° 83. 18 It should be clear that this woman is a woman possessed by a divine manifestation and is distinct from the “knowing one (woman)” (rx.t). © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

79

via these manifestations. Indeed, we could be tempted to consider her as a kind of psychic or fortune-teller, even a diviner, with the understanding that these terms are but very loosely relevant and refer in our modern societies to situations obviously a little bit – although not entirely – different from situations prevailing in pharaonic Egypt. Nevertheless, Yvan Koenig (1994: 35) rightly pointed out that in modern Egypt, some women are known to perform magical practices, indeed different, but not dramatically distinct from what the “knowing one (woman)” (rx.t) was doing. Whatever may be, the “knowing one (woman)” (rx.t) shares a very cross culturally widespread hallmark of a sage, be it at a rather low level: to offer a solution in a trouble situation19. In her case, she solves the problem of singling out which god is causing the particular severe troubles – death included – that affect a particular individual at a given moment. As for the healing power of “the knowing one (woman)” (tA rx.t), they do not appear straight in the available data. She diagnoses rather than she actually treats. Now, it remains clear that her capacity is based on knowledge, even though we have no precise idea of whence she got that knowledge and how she uses it practically. Given her mastering of knowledge, and her capacity of solving a situation of crisis, she shares some of the hallmarks of the celebrated wise men/sages, although ethic might not be directly involved. Note, however that it may stay in the background, since being afflicted by the manifestations of a god is considered as the punishment for some sin (Fischer-Elfert, 2005: 121–130). Now, the fact that certain women were possessing particular knowledges in religious matters has a prototypical figure in the world of the gods. In a myth used as a “historiola” for magical purposes, a woman called “a knowing one in her town” gives a good counsel to another woman who is in full confusion because her son has been stung by a scorpion (Vernus, 2011: 33). Something more: one of the numerous attributes of the goddess Isis is her capacity in mastering magic (Munster, 1968: 192–196; Stadler, 2004: 199)20, as illustrated by another famous myth. And in that kind of context, she happens to be called a “knowing one” (rx.t) (Borghout, 1982: 26; Vernus, 2011: 30). 7. The wise men/sages recognized by their posterity as a subset of great men 7.1. The eulogy of dead writers as a canon of wise men/sages A particular subset of great men encompasses the famous writers promoted as wise men/sages. Fortunately, we have a text which sketches what could have been the notion of “wise men/sages” in pharaonic Egypt. It is a teaching without any 19

While the Egyptian “knowing one (woman)” (rx.t) is not presented explicitly as dealing with the future, she shares a knowledge that, in Egyptian viewpoint, may allow to forecast what is going to happen. For women acting as diviners in the Near East, Prof. Saana Svärd kindly made me aware of the work of Nissinen (2013). 20 For the epithet and the goddesses liable to receive it, see Leitz (ed.), 2002: 709. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

80

Pascal Vernus

title; the Egyptological tradition refers to it by the name of its support, on the verso of which it has been written down, the Papyrus Chester Beatty IV (Gardiner, 1935: 34–44, pl. 18–21; Vernus, 2010: 345–367). It is not presented as a selfcontent composition, but rather as a compilation of extracts dominated by the same basic idea, the advantage of literacy. The compilation is itself included into a miscellany, that is to say a set of texts of sundry kinds, intended to the training of the scribes. This compilation includes an “eulogy of dead writers”. “Dead intellectuals”21 or “hommes de lettres” (Morenz, 1996: 110) might be more in line with our modern viewpoint than with the ancient Egyptian one. This eulogy has been much celebrated in Egyptology since the publication of the Papyrus Chester Beatty IV, because of its outstanding interest for the history of the pharaonic ideas. It is particularly important for our topic, since it sets up a “canon” – in the weak meaning of the term (see supra) – of the most famous composers of didactic works of the past. They represent what could be wise men/sages in the pharaonic universe as much as their didactic works involve basically knowledge about good and evil and its consequences in social behavior and relationships with the gods, thus conveying the ethic viewpoint which is implied in the notion of wise man/sage. The manuscript, at least the verso, can be dated after Dynasty XIX, that is to say it can be attributed to the beginning of the Twelfth century B.C., but the text it encompasses is probably earlier. Needless to say, this text has its bias. Its basic aim is not to provide the modern Egyptologists with a clear definition of the notion of wise man/sage, but to illustrate the advantages of being a scribe. One of the arguments marshaled in the passage is that outstanding literary works cause their composers to benefit with a true survival in the posterity. This would be clearly illustrated by the fact that the writer’s names remained recorded a long time after their deaths, while their funerary monuments, which were intended to perpetuate the names of their owners, were doomed to decay and disappear. The cases of the eight most famous writers are put forward as evidences in favor of this thesis in a passage the translation of which follows right now: “As for those learned (rx-x.t)22 scribes since the time of what happened after the gods, Those who announced what was to come, and it did happen, Their names are established for eternity. 21

One of them, Iymhotep is not primarily a writer, but an architect, described as a craftsman according to his contemporaneous titles (Wildung, 1977a: 7–8). Now, other nearly contemporaneous documents bestow on him the titles “lector-priest” (Xry-Hb.t) and “chief” (Hry-tp) (see Loprieno, 2001: 39), which imply mastering magico-religious writings. Moreover, the posterity attributed to him didactic writings (Wildung, 1977b: 35; FischerElfert, 1996: 509; Aufrère, 2004: 4). In the end, speaking of “dead writers” is in line with the composer of the eulogy. 22 The spelling was read rx-x.t – a term on which see infra – by Brunner, 1966: 30. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

81

(But) they have gone after having completed their existence, while all their relatives are forgotten. (…) They could not leave heirs that were [their] children […] pronouncing their names. If they had heirs unto themselves, it was the writings and the teachings (sbAy.t) that they made. They gave to themselves (…) as lector-priest, the writing board as “sonwhen-he-loves-priest”. Teachings (sbAy.t) were their pyramids and the reed-pen was their children. Ostraca23 were as women (…). Doors and mansions were made for : they fell into decay. Their funerary-priests are [gone]. Their stelae are sunk into the soil (or: covered with dusk). Their burial chambers are forgotten. Their names are pronounced because of these books of their which they made when their were existing. It is good to remember it: it is for the duration of eternity24 that they made them (= the books) (or: what they did is for the duration of eternity). (…) A book is more useful than an inscribed stela, than a firmly established surrounding wall. If these mansions and these pyramids had been made, it was in order that their name could be pronounced. Indeed, it is useful in the necropolis, a name in the mouth of people25. A man has disappeared and his corpse is in the soil. All his relatives are “buried ones”. It is writing that causes him to be mentioned in the mouth of who recites a formula. More useful is a book than a house of mason, than a mansion in the West. It is better than a villa having-good-foundations, than a stela in a temple. Is there here anyone commensurate with Hordjedef? Is another commensurate with Iymhotep ?

23

Literally “back of stone (sA jnr)”. “Ostraca” are probably meant, although they can be made also of fragments of pottery. Limestone boards might also be meant, or even, inscriptions on stone, as first prepared by scribes before being carved by sculptors and/or painted by painters. 24 I suggest to read jr=w se n Hnty nHH, or jr(-n)=se(=sn) n Hnty nHH. That means during the entire creation, which, while being “eternal”, had a beginning and shall have an end. Hnty, which means originally “the two ends”, evolved to meaning what is between the two ends of cyclic time, that is to say “the duration of the cyclic time”, and, when used alone, to meaning simply “the time”. Hence Dr Hnty “since (the existence of) the time”, that is to say ever (Klotz, 2015: 111). 25 For the importance of oral reading, see Contardi, 2010: 264. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

82

Pascal Vernus

No one among men of our times succeeded in being commensurate with Neferty and Chety, the best one among them. I want to make you know the name of Ptahemdjehuty and of Khakkeperreseneb. Is another commensurate with Ptahhotep and also with Kairse ? These knowing ones (rx.w) who announced what is to come, That which came forth from their mouths happened. It is in their sentences, written in their (lit.: his) books that one encounters it26. They are given the children of other people as heirs, as if they were their children. They are invisible from all the world, (but) their magics are intended for mankind, and they turned out to be read as teachings (sbAy.t). They are gone. Their names are forgotten27. It is writings that causes them to be mentioned.” (pChester Beatty IV, v° 2, 5–v° 3, 1128) In this text, eight wise men are presented, paired two by two. The number eight matches a basic classificatory form of the ancient Egyptian ideology, being twice four, the number of the cardinal directions. For instance, an ogdoad of proto-creators play an outstanding role in the cosmogony of Hermopolis (Assman, 1985b: 40; Fischer-Elfert, 2003: 127). 7.2. Chronology of the historically attested dead writers These eight men do not share the same status from a historical viewpoint. The first couple pairs two historically attested persons, Iymhotep (floruit during the reign of Djoser, Third Dynasty, first half of the Twenty-seventh century B.C.), on the one hand, Hordjedef, on the other hand, a son of Cheops, Fourth Dynasty (floruit during the Twenty-sixth century B.C.). Iymhotep is the most illustrating case and the best documented one (Wildung, 1977 and 1977b; Quack, 2014). As rightly stated by Kim Ryholt (2009b: 395), “the greatest sage of all in Egyptian literary tradition was unquestionably Iymhotep”. High Priest of Ra and specialist in supervising sculpture and object craftsmanship, Iymhotep oversaw the construction of the gigantic complex of the step Pyramid of King Djoser. He was credited to have extended the use of stone in 26

For this particular meaning of gmj, see Vernus, 2012b: 400–402. To be understood in the following way: their names as inscribed on their funerary monuments. 28 Text: Gardiner, 1935: 18–19. Translation and bibliography: Wildung, 1977: 25–27; Vernus, 2010: 349–352 and 365–366. Needless to say, the passage elicited a lot of contributions, and any work dealing with Egyptian literature is bound to mention it. Among them, let us quote Assmann, 1985a; Assmann, 1985b; Assman, 1995: 174; Parkinson, 2002: 30– 31; Fischer-Elfert, 2003: 125–128; Quirke, 2004: 33–36; Moers, 2008; Vernus, 2016: 321– 323. 27

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

83

architecture. The construction of temples such as the Edfu temple was fictionally attributed to him more than two and half millennia after his floruit! The posterity was rather prone to present him as a learned one (Wildung, 1977a: 163), and particularly as learned in writings (Aufrère, 2004: 3). He is granted with the composition of a book dealing with the regulations of the temple (Jasnow/Zauzich, 2005: 19). He was also credited with astronomic knowledge (Chauveau, 1992; Cauville, 2010: 21). Every scribe beginning his work was supposed to pour a libation in his honor (Wildung, 1997: 37; Allen, 1999: 8). Since the New Kingdom, he was presented as the son of the God Ptah, sometimes of Khnum (Aufrère, 2004: 11). Its iconography suggests here and there a parallel with Heka, the god of magic (Baines, 2012: 57). In Thebes, he enjoyed a fabulous popularity which remained well established during the Greco-Roman Period (Quack, 1998). A sector of Memphis was named after him and a large temple built for him there. Six feast days were celebrated in his honor during the year (Jasnow/Zauzich, 2005: 17). He was recognized as having competence in medicine (Laskowska-Kusztal, 1989: 285) and then he was compared to Asklepios. He was a major oracle figure. A biography of him was composed in demotic (Ryholt, 2009b). Hordjedef was one of Cheops’ sons and overseer of the king’s work (Baud, 1999: 522–523). He enjoyed a great fame since the Old Kingdom, which, at the beginning, might have been bound to his funerary cult in Giza (Goedicke, 1955). A later tradition highlights his interest in ancient texts when inspecting the temple under Mykerynos (see the notices of the Book of the Dead quoted infra). A similar interest shows up in the late period Book of the temple, where Hordjedef reportedly discovered a forgotten royal command (Quack, 2005: 63). In the cycle of tales of the Papyrus Westcar, he is presented as telling to his father Cheops the most important of the tales (Morenz, 1996: 115; see supra). To him is attached a teaching of which we have some remnants (Vernus, 2010: 77–88). In the Ramesside Period, a correct and precise mastering of it was required from any scribe (Redford, 1986: 146, n. 82; Fischer-Elfert, 1986: 95–97; id., 2003: 121–122; Vernus, 2010–2011: 283). The last but least couple pairs Ptahemdjehuty, who remains desperately unattested in the available data, with the wab-priest of Heliopolis Khakkeperreseneb, who, to the contrary, is famous for a work entitled Collection of words (Vernus, 1995: 1–33; Parkinson, 1997). His mention as a lector-priest among the ancestors of the Saqqara Ramesside official (Mathieu, 2012: 844–845; see supra) suggests that he is not purely fictional. His name involves the name of the pharaoh Sesostris II (circa 1897–1878 B.C.), which gives a terminus de quo for his floruit. 7.3. Chronology of the maybe fictional dead writers To the opposite of Iymhotep/Hordjedef, the last couple pairs two fictional figures, Ptahhotep and Kairse.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

84

•

•

•

Pascal Vernus

The figure of Ptahhotep, to whom is attached a teaching, might have been inspired by one member of a family of viziers whose funerary cult had developed to the point he had been promoted to the status of intercessor (Vernus, 1997), during the second half of Dynasty V (circa 2450–2311 B.C.). This roughly matches the reign of Asosi (circa 2377–2350 B.C.), under whose reign Ptahhotep would have been living according to the introduction of his teaching (Vernus, 2010: 106). As for the figure of the vizier Kairse, to whom is attached the so-called Loyalist Teaching (Verhoeven, 2009), it may have been inspired by a vizier of approximately the same period as Ptahhotep, who was promoted among the famous ancestors of the Saqqara Ramesside official (Mathieu, 2013: 826). Neferty is supposed to have been living under Snefru (2561–2538 B.C.), clearly intended as symbol of very remote past (Morenz, 2003: 107). Whether his character is purely fictional or has been inspired by a historical great man remains difficult to assert. His presence among the celebrated magicians (see above) may be only due to his prophecy, but it may alternatively be due to other achievements of which we do not have any clue.

The same could hold for Chety, the writer with whom he is paired. In the Papyrus Chester Beatty IV tradition, Chety was credited with having composed the Teaching of Ammenemes I, just after the pharaoh’s death (Vernus, 2010: 237, n.3 and 360), that is to say circa 1962 B. C. If he is paired with Neferty, it may be probably because the latter had announced the coming of a saviour called Ameny, a name under whom King Ammenemes I loomed up. Some scholars hold that the character of Chety is entirely fictional. Now, I cannot help wondering whether such a figure as Chety, ranked first among the writers and deemed deserving a particular treatment besides his mention in the eulogy of dead writers in the same miscellany (pChester Beatty IV v°6, 9–7, 2; see Parkinson, 2002: 90–91; Quack, 2003), could be entirely fictional and could not reflect some historical personality. 7.4. Chronology of the works associated with the dead writers We have scanned the chronology of the celebrated dead writers and of the individuals who inspired the fictional figures of the dead writers. Now, these dates do not refer to the composition of the works allegedly attributed to these writers, since most of them are pseudepigraphical and apocryphal. Of the works of Iymhotep, we do not have any remnant, except an allusion in a song of harpist, the oldest version of which belongs to the end of Dynasty XVIII (Vernus, 2010–2011: 101–106). The words (md.wt) of Iymhotep are associated with the words of Hordjedef. Of the Teaching of Hordjedef, we possess a score of bad Ramesside manuscripts and a Late Period writing-board. It is obvious that the work is apocryphal. The language does not match Old Kingdom Egyptian, but Middle Egyptian. Some clues might suggest that the core of the work would have been written at the end © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

85

of the First Intermediate Period. At any rate, the teaching was clearly written may be six or seven centuries after the floruit of the historical Hordjedef (Vernus, 2010: 77–88). The core of the Teaching of Ptahhotep might have been composed around the beginning of Twentieth century B.C., that is to say about four centuries after the floruit of the vizier who had inspired its fictional author (Vernus, 2010: 106–107; Stauder, 2013: 108–109). This teaching is one of the basic works of the pharaonic culture29, not to say the first one. To the name of Kairse was attached a wisdom, the so-called Loyalist Teaching, the shorter version of which is attested under king Ammenemes III of Dynasty XII (second half of the Nineteenth century B.C), while the longer version could have been rewritten later, perhaps in the first half of the Sixteenth Century B.C. (Stauder, 2013: 283–301). To the name of the famous scribe Chety, two wisdom texts are attached. First a teaching put in his mouth, and also known under the label Satires of trades (Jaeger, 2004; Vernus, 2010: 239–264; id., 2016c). Second, a teaching put in the mouth of the dead king, Ammenemes I of Dynasty XII, who died circa 1962 B.C. (Vernus, 2010: 215–238). For these two teachings, the literary and linguistic analysis would support a dating in the end of Dynasty XII (circa 1784 B.C.), at the earliest, and possibly later until the beginning of Dynasty XVIII (Stauder, 2013: respectively 475–476 and 435–497). The pairing of Chety with Neferty is in line with the probable date for the latter’s work. The prophecy of the latter cannot have been written earlier that the end of Dynasty XII, while the beginning of Dynasty XVIII cannot be excluded (Stauder, 201: 337–418)30. The language of The collections of words of Khakkeperreseneb obviously reflects a stage of Middle Egyptian later than the stage of classics such as the Teaching of Ptahhotep and the Story of Sinuhe. This matches the indication relying on his name, which involves the name of Sesostris II. Like the works attributed to Chety and Neferty, the date of the composition extends from the end of Dynasty XII to the beginning of the New Kingdom (Stauder, 2013: 156–173). The ogdoad of Papyrus Chester Beatty IV gives the “parnasse” as it had been constituted in the Ramesside Period. To the eight names, at least two personalities should be added, who had been living too recently for having been taken into account in the papyrus; they are Amenhotep son of Hapu and Khaemuast.

29

Translation and bibliography in Vernus, 2010: 99–177. Among the numerous contributions that the work raised in Egyptology, two major books should be distinguished: Junge, 2003; Hagen, 2012. 30 Actually, Stauder argues for the mid Dynasty XIII at the earliest. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

86

Pascal Vernus

7.4.1. Amenhotep son of Hapu Amenhotep son of Hapu came from a middle-class family in Athribis31, a town in the heart of Lower Egypt. His fortune changed when he was summoned to the court of Pharaoh Amenhotep III (circa 1391–1353 B.C.), who commissioned him for preparing his first jubilee (Galan, 2000: 256), and made him responsible for the huge public works project in Thebes and elsewhere. The impressiveness of the monuments the building of which Amenhotep son of Hapu supervised was such that he earned a reputation as a divinely inspired wise man/sage, especially because of his innovative trend to use a large quantity of quartzite as material. He was represented at the end of two rows of eminent royalties bound to Thebes in a Ramesside Tomb (Moore, 2013: 205). The posterity promoted him to the rank of half god and he was paired with Iymhotep. A chapel was dedicated to him in the temple of Deir el-Bahri and during the Greco-Roman Period, until the second century and even the third century A.C., he was prayed as an intercessor by people facing the worries of life (Klotz, 2012: 51), and sometimes as healer due to his competence as physician (see below). In another chapel in front of the temple of the south mole of the first pylon in Karnak, near a Ptolemaic-Roman chapel devoted to the great men, a colossus of him was erected at the beginning of the Ptolemaic Period (CGC 1199 = JdE 37206). On it was carved a pseudepigraphic autobiography in which he accounts of his deeds for the king and for the gods (Vernus, forthcoming 2: §46–50). Here also, he was granted with the title of Hry-tp “magician”, maybe as a reinterpretation of his contemporaneous title “at the head of recruits” (CGC 585, l. 13). In the memory of the posterity, his exceptional competence in sacred writings is particularly emphasized. He would have reportedly discovered a new chapter of the Book of the Dead, which betrays a composition later than his floruit! (Wüthrich, 2015: 224). He is described by the “learned ones” (rx.w-x.t) as “the best one among them (tpy=sn)” (hymn in the Karnak Ptah temple, col. 5 = Wildung, 1977a: 207), which reminds the attribute “the best one among them” (pAy=sn tpy), given to Chety in the eulogy of the dead writers. 7.4.2. Khaemuast Khaemuast32 was a son of Ramses II and Esenofert (Barbotin, 2016d). He was High Priest of Ptah of Memphis. He took advantage of being entrusted to super31

Basic books are those of Varille, 1968, and of Wildung, 1977a and 1977b. A good bibliography of the most recent contributions dealing with Amenhotep son of Hapu can be found in Collombert, 2002: 139, and in Orsenigo, 2013: 60–61. 32 There is a monography on the subject: Gomaa,1973. Most recently, an exhibition was devoted to Khaemuast. The catalogue offers an exhaustive bibliography of the available literature and excellent contributions on different aspects of Khaemuaset: Charron/Barbotin, 2016; to the general bibliography there provided with, add Oppenheim/Allen, 2002; Navratilova, 2016. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

87

vise five jubilees of his father, not only for placing his statues in many temples, but also for refreshing the theological interpretation of the relationships between the pharaoh, his son, and the king’s wife royal family (Collombert, 2016: 41–42), and for renewing the decoration program of the temples. Khaemuast undertook a very important renewal in sundry domains pertaining to religion. He reorganized the cult and the burial of Apis, supervising its embalming, and establishing a special underground gallery in the Serapeum of Memphis. Extending his survey of the Memphite necropolis, he visited pyramid and monuments of the Old Kingdom at Giza, Abusir, Abu Gurab and Saqqara (Takamiya/ Hiroyuki/Sakuji, 2011), of the Middle Kingdom at Dahshur (Oppenheim/Allen, 2002; Navratilova, 2016: 263), and made restorations. He rediscovered the ruined tomb of prince Kawab son of Khufu. His interest for the past led him to erect a monument honoring another wise man/sage, Iymhotep (Allen, 1999). Some scholars coined for him the epithet “the archeologist prince” (Collombert, 2016; Navratilova, 2016: 262). In the domain of religion, Khaemuast was not only an archeologist, but also a philologist. He marked a special ability in exploring the potentialities of the writing system. Among his contributions to theology, a great concern toward astronomical believes shows up (Barbotin, 2016b: 155; id., 2016d). More generally, his doctrinal patronage impacted heavily on standard formulations of the religious practices. For instance, in the so-called “appeal to the livings”, which was used during three millenniums on private monuments to incite people to recite a ritual formula in favor of the monument’s owner, Khaemuast seems to have introduced the theme of the supreme god – in Egypt the solar god creator – giving a good action its proportional reward. In doing so, he “exprime de manière globale des croyance qui, jusque-là, se manifestaient de manière diffuse et partielle” (Vernus, 2008: 6). Indeed, the idea of the supreme god intervening systematically in the life of every individual pertains to the “ideological mutation” that occurred during the thirteenth century B.C., as a consequence of the evolution in the believes (Vernus, 1995b). Khaemuast’s competence in ancient writing accounts for the fact that he was allegedly supposed to have discovered a chapter of the Book of the dead under the head of a defunct in the Memphite necropolis (Wüthrich, 2015: 223; id., 2016). He was probably dead already in year 60 of his father (circa 1219 B.C.) He enjoyed a great fame in the posterity until the Greco-Roman Period, included (Chauveau, 2016). He became the main character of a cycle of demotic late stories of the Roman Period under the name of Setne Khaemuast. He is described as a man with a great mastering of magical knowledge, in search for a magical book of Thoth. 7.5. The dead writers were composers of didactic works Some conclusions can be drawn from this set of dead writers. Most of them belong to the elite, princes (Hordjedef, Khaemuast), viziers (Ptahhotep, Kairse), high of-

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

88

Pascal Vernus

ficials (Iymhotep, Amenhotep, the latter being originally a provincial “bourgeois”). Others are simple scribe (Chety) or simple priest “lector-priest” or “wabpriest” (Neferty, Khakkeperreseneb), thus belonging to the literate sub-elite. They share a common hallmark, well defined by J. Foster (2001: 504): “These men have authority because they have been successful in the public life of their times. They have made a mark that is worth remembering and they speak primarily of public matters” (see also Lazaridis, 2008: 2). The reason why they have been promoted to such a paramount status is clearly stated. If their names are still pronounced “in the mouth of people”, it is not due to their funerary monuments, although they were erected in that very purpose, but it is due to their fame as writers. But not as writers of any kind of writings. The works due to which they are celebrated are didactic works, either originally or by their reception: “They (= their works) turned out to be read as teachings (sbAy.t).”33 (pChester Beatty IV, v° 3, 10) Note that the word “teaching (sbAy.t)” occurs three times in the eulogy of the dead writers. And, indeed, the works with which these writers34 are credited, apocryphal as they may be, pertain all to what I call “littérature d’idée”, and others “didactic literature” (Lichtheim, 1996: 243; Parkinson, 1996: 303–304; Foster, 2001: 503), “wisdom literature” (Assmann, 1999: 9; Enmarch, 2008: 39). Under these labels, are mainly taken into account didactic works that explicitly involve in their titles the term sbAy.t “teaching” (Vernus, 2010: 45–47) in its restrictive meaning of “instruction (from a man in position of authoritative figure)”. But are also taken into account complaints (Williams, 1981) and “more reflective compositions” (Parkinson, 2002: 110), that is to say works involving reflections about the society, its present situation and its future, such as monologues, lamentations, meditations, prophecies35. They ultimately belong to the category of sbAy.t in its larger meaning of “wisdom”. Interestingly enough, not any narrative work is evoked with respect to the dead writers, although pharaonic Egypt produced many pieces in this domain, among which a masterpiece in world literature, the Story of Sinuhe (Moers, 2008). 7.6. Wise men/sages are basically “learned ones” and “knowing ones” 7.6.1. rx “know”, a key word Wisdom basically lies on the knowledge about the distinction between good and evil and its ethic consequences for behaving vis-à-vis the men and the gods. 33

For the grammar of this passage see Vernus, 2010: 360, n. 52, and 2016: 323. Note that Iymhotep, whom we would tend to consider primarily as an architect, was a high priest of Ptah, which involves mastering sacerdotal knowledge. Moreover, he was credited by the posterity for his competence in writings, see supra. 35 Taking into account only lamentations (Lazaridis, 2008: 2) seems to me too restrictive. 34

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

89

Hence, in the wisdom texts, “a key word is ‘know’” (Parkinson, 2002: 110)36. Thus, the celebrated writers are primarily people who distinguish by their knowledge, and it is in this perspective that they can be in line with the notion of “wise men/sages”, as far as a sound knowledge of the world ineluctably elicits the highlighting of the ethical principles that rule the human society and determine the relationship with the divine37. In the eulogy of the dead writers, they are called both “learned (rx-x.t) 38 scribes” and “these knowing ones (rx.w)”. The two epithets “learned (rx-x.t)” and “knowing ones (rx.w)” are derivative from a very important verb, the verb rx which involve basically the notion of “knowing”, of “mastering” – as it occurs in locutions such as rx s.t-rA=f “who masters his speech” – and also of “being able to” (chiefly, but not uniquely in Late Egyptian), with different shades according to the Time/Mode/Aspects of the verbal forms, and according to the number and the nature of the direct participants (so called “subject” and “object”). 7.6.2. rx-x.t, basically “learned one” rx-x.t, literally “one who knows something”, involves the participle of the verb rx “know”, with the word x.t “thing”, as its direct object (second direct participant)39, for which the collocation jr x.t “worker” “one who makes something” offers a parallel. Much has been said about the phrase, even though we are still in need of a thorough and systematic lexical study40.

36

A survey of the words close to the notion of “wise” is given in Shupak, 1993: 217–231. For rx involving both “wissen” and “Weisheit”, see Morenz, 2016: 29, n. 66. 38 The spelling was read rx-x.t – a term on which see infra – by Brunner, 1966: 30. 39 While rx-x.t is a bound phrase, elsewhere x.t can be used more freely with rx: see, for instance, m-wr-n rx=f x.t “so much he knew things” (Jansen-Winkeln, 1985: 361, § 3.5.16), and a similar older example in Lichtheim (1988: 47; quoted infra). See also Hannig, 2006: 1513; Morenz, 1996: 143, who points out the construction of rx with m x.t. It is well known that x.t can mean sometimes “rite”, but I am not sure that this meaning is systematically involved in the phrase rx-x.t, even when it refers to specialist of sacerdotal science; consider, for instance, rx x.t m zStA nw nTr.w nTr.wt tA.wy pd.t 9 “Knowing the things (= knowing the components) in the secrets of the gods, goddesses of the two lands and of the nine bows” (Book of the Fayum l. 968), with the commentary of Beinlich, 1991: 234 and 125–126: “Hinter dem Begriff ‘rx-jx.’ werden verschiedene Realia aufgezählt (…) Es sind hier Dinge genannt, die man normalerweise in den Onomastika findet. ” A similar use is to be found in rx jx.wt nb.t n pr-SntAy.t “Knowing the things of Per-Shentayt” (Cauville, 1997: 32, 8). Note, conversely, that rx alone may denote the capacity of performing a ritual; see Willems, 1994: 292. 40 A large stock of reference in Hannig, 2006: 1515–1516. For perceptive comments about the expression, see Hermann, 1957: 102; Fox, 1980: 127; Reineke, 1982; Beinlich, 1994: 125–126; Morenz, 1996: 142–143; Franke, 1998: 39, n. 22; Lepper, 2008: 306; Enmarch, 2008: 81; Vernus, 2010: 38, n. 24. 37

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

90

Pascal Vernus

Mainly in the late Period, but also from the New Kingdom and before, rx-x.t clearly designates one who masters the sacred writings, hence its translation ierogrammateus in Greek (Brunner, 1966: 32; Ritner, 1993: 229; Barbotin, 2016e: 161). Since medicine and magics belong to sacred writings, rx-x.t happen to apply to physicians41. Now, limiting the term to this particular meaning will be too restrictive. Other meanings are attested. -rx-x.t may indicate mastering writing in general, not bound specifically to sacerdotal science, a meaning clear in this quotation from the end of the Prophecy of Neferty: “A learned one shall pour-a-libation to me when he sees that what I have said happened.” (Néferty 70–71; Brunner, 1966: 3242) It this kind of meaning, a translation with “intellectual” was put forward (Fox, 1980: 129). At least, it marks an “intellectual emancipation” (Loprieno, 1996: 409), or the highest status within a small community: “I was indeed the learned one of his house, knowing more than the knowing ones.” (British Museum 1203; Janssen, 1946: 73 (Bl A)) -rx-x.t not infrequently means being highly competent in a particular domain, not far from the French idiomatic expression “s’y connaître”, in English “know the matter”. The following example illustrates this meaning: “Surely who is here will be one who knows the matter (rx-x.t); he cannot be prevented from appealing to Ra when he speaks.” (Story of the man tired of life, 145–147; Allen, 2011: 107) James Allen (2011: 156) comments: “as a ‘knower of things’43 the Man will no longer be subject to the doubts about the afterlife.” See also Parkinson, 2012: 141– 142. Note that this meaning shows up outside the frozen expression rx-x.t, in the not bound construction of the verb rx with x.t as direct object (see supra; n. 39): “Never anything occurred there since I knew the matter.” (Stela British Museum 614, l. 10–11; Lichtheim, 1988: 47) 41

Stela of Bakhtan, l. 50; text in Kitchen, 1989: 285, 9, and bibliography in Witthuhn / Sternberg-el Hotabi / alii, 2015; for the passage, see Cannuyer, 2001. Another mention of rh.w-x.t in a medical context can be found in pEbers 1, 9 = pHearst, 6, 9–10, quoted infra. See also Sauneron,1965: 86 (zz). 42 The same rite was performed in honor of Iymhotep, see supra. 43 Lichtheim, 1988: 71, uses the same English expression “a knower of things” to translate rx-x.t in the stela BM 159. Among the other possible examples, consider particularly Teaching of Ptahhotep, P. 612, for which see Vernus, 2010: 147; Morenz, 1996: 142. Quirke, 2004: 100, translates rx-x.t with “a man of experience”. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

91

rx-x.t happens to extend its meaning from “being learned in a particular topic”, to “being learned in the functioning of the human world” in general, to possess a “totality of knowledge” (Parkinson, 2012: 141), hence to know how to behave accordingly in the human society and vis-à-vis the gods. Then, the term gets very close to our notion of wise man/sage. The ethic consequences of being learned prevail in the meaning of rx-x.t in a context such as the following: “The learned one/wise man says: “I want to acquire”, just like the ignorant, when he forgets his capacity-of-transfiguring (Axw).” (pRamesseum II v° II, 4; Vernus, 2010: 306; see infra for the meaning of Axw in the passage) Here, translating rx-x.t with “wise man/sage” would seem sensible. Forgetting his specific capacity44 that allows him to transfigure the standard viewpoint into the viewpoint of wisdom leads a wise man/sage to act against the Maat by being greedy (Assmann, 1999: 85–91). 7.6.3. rx, basically “a knowing one” rx, literally “one who knows”, is the lexicalization as “substantif préassigné”45 of a participle of the verbe rx “know”. Since the meaning remains general, the shift from the literal intellectual meaning “knowing one” to the moral meaning “wise/ sage” is not uneasy. For instance, let us consider a formulation such as the followings: “It is the wise man (rx) who takes care of his ba in establishing his perfection on earth.” (Teaching of Ptahhotep, P 524–526; Vernus, 2010: 142 (“sage” should be preferred to “connaisseur”); Quirke, 2004: 99; Junge, 2003: 259) Causing people to consider somebody to be good or perfect is an idea well established in the teachings and in the autobiographies (Vernus, 2010b: 542–543). “He is a wise man the one who conforms to what happened.” (Words of SaSobek, pRamesseum I; Barns, 1956: pl. I, A 246) Here, in the meaning of rx, the notion of “knowledge” is less salient that the notion of behavior it conveys, and one may feel entitled to use “wise man/sage” in the translation. In demotic, a late stage of Egyptian, the term gets reinforced under the form pA rmT-rx, literally “the man who knows” (Lichtheim, 1983: 45; Ritner, 1993: 230;

44

For the idea of the rx-x.t acting contrary to what they should do in a normal state of thing, see The Admonitions of Ipuur, 2, 14 = Enmarch, 2008: 82. 45 For this important, but no sufficiently known notion, see Vernus, 2003. 46 For the meaning of snj r, “conform with”, to be distinguished from snj+direct object, “surpass”, see Vernus,1995: 71, n. 222 and 91–92. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

92

Pascal Vernus

Quack, 2009: 116; Agut-Labordère, 2011: 297, n.1), and its use in the teachings turns out to be very close to our notion of “wise man/sage”. 8. From knowledge to wisdom As was well observed by Lichtheim (1996: 261), the sense “wise” and “wisdom” does not belong to the very core meaning of the verb rx, which is definitely bound to the notion of “knowledge”. If the derivatives of the verb rx – be they rx-x.t, basically “learned one”, or rx, basically “knowing one” – can extend to convey something bound with the notion of “wise man/sage”, it is because being wise/ sage basically involves a knowledge, the knowledge of what is good and what is evil (Vittmann, 1997: 308; Lichtheim, 1997: 19–28), needless to say, according to the tenets of the dominating ideology. As Friedrich Junge (2003: 101) stated: “Gut sein ist eine Form des Wissens und der Erkenntnis”. Distinguishing between good and evil underpins the rules of living in a human society and of having relationships with the gods, centered as they are around the basic concept of Maat on which moral values one should rely to behave (Hermann, 1957: 102; Assmann, 1990: 152). Thus, individual and social behavior and “the nature of the ideal life” (Parkinson, 1996: 303) is a matter of knowledge. Knowledge benefits “both in the relationships between man and his fellow men and in that between the pious person and his god” (Shupak, 1993, 222). Now, the aim of the teachings is precisely to cause ignorant people to know how to behave, as explicitly underscored: “Teaching the ignorant to know/to be wise according to the rules of good speech, being something useful to who will hearken, (but) being something deleterious to who violates it.” (Teaching of Ptahhotep, P 47–48; Vernus, 2010: 111) In the context, rx, probably the verb47 as opposed to the substantive xm.w “the ignorant”, apply to the knowledge of the rules of behavior in society. The opposition between “ignorant one” and “knowing one” is a basic feature of the wisdom tradition (Shupak, 1993: 219; Hagen, 2012: 201). Wisdom, understood as knowledge of what is good and evil, and of its ethic and religious consequences, ultimately shares the same status as domains that we would classify either as “scientific” – mathematic, medicine, astronomy – or as “religious” (Jasnow/Zauzich, 2005: 61). It is a knowledge that is given as preexisting, and not a “science” understood as a knowledge that undergoes continually challenged constructions and deconstructions, according to our modern conception (Westendorf, 1986; Hoffmann, 2001). Indeed, this knowledge is pre-existing since its principles harken back to oral utterances issued by the gods, ultimately by the creator sun god, and written down 47

The absence of the determinative of the seated man contrast with its presence in xm.w/xm in the three manuscripts. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

93

prototypically by Thot (Vernus, forthcoming 1). Thus, the speech of an exceptionally talented orator, dealing with the laws and rules of the Maat, can be deemed – literary exaggeration taken into account – “something that comes from the mouth of Re” (Parkinson, 2002: 121, ad Story of the Eloquent Peasant, B349–50; id., 2012: 283). Then, since they were considered to have been directly inspired by the gods, the works attributed to the dead writers could be promoted to the status of authoritative texts and taken as models48. In such a perspective, the didactic literature shares with fully-fledged authoritative texts (religious, magic, “scientific” compositions) the hallmark of having a tenor that ultimately reflects at a certain degree the creative words of the sun god. However, it does not share it in the same degree since, besides its teaching function, it has also an entertaining function (Vernus, 2010–2011: 86; Morenz, 2013: 228–233), which is not shared by fully-fledged authoritative texts. 9. Wise men/sages and the transmission of knowledge Stemming from the times of the gods, the knowledge pertaining to good and evil and its consequences on man’s behavior was handed down to mankind via the ancestors. It was transmitted, on the one hand, via an oral tradition, on the other hand, via the writings. Both ways complete each other as expressions of the human memory. Both overlap since originally transmitted words can be written down, and, conversely, a written text may be performed orally by reading (Vernus, 1995: 57; Parkinson, 2002: 50–51). The two following quotations illustrate it: “May it be commanded to the servant there (= I) to make a staff of old age (= a disciple). Then I will tell him the words of those who used to listen49, the counsels of those of former times, those who, in the remote past, listened to the gods.” (Teaching of Ptahhotep, P 28–31; Vernus, 2010: 109) “Imitate 50 your fathers, your predecessors (...) Behold, their speech are fixed in writings. Open and read so that you may imitate the knowing ones/ wise men sages (rx.w).” (Teaching for Merykare, P34–36. See Quirke, 2004: 113; Vernus, 2010: 185; Contardi, 2010: 263) The celebrated dead writers’ writings are deemed valuable because they are didactic, that is to say because they got involved in the knowledge about good and 48

R. Parkinson, 2002: 121, observes that “The language of culture and literature can be presented as sacred and secret, a theme perhaps deriving from the esoteric nature of sacred text”. 49 For sDmy.w, see Vernus, 2010: 152 n. 47, arguing for an interpretation as an active participle, and suggesting “those who received the wisdom”. Junge, 2003: 207 preferred the passive interpretation “die gehört worden sind”. Note, however that Gardiner, 1957: 280, § 362, states that “particularly noticeable is the m. plur. ending -yw in the imperf. Act. part.” 50 snj r “imitate” as opposite to snj+ direct object “surpass”, see supra. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

94

Pascal Vernus

evil and its consequences on behavior in the human society and attitude vis-à-vis the gods. They got involved in two main manners: 1. in enhancing its display; 2. in exploiting and developing its potential. 9.1. Enhancing the display of knowledge Enhancing the display of the primordial knowledge starts with holding past in reverence. For past basically functions as prototype. It offers models that have to be reproduced since it relates to the primordial time of the creation, that is to say to a time in which everything appeared in its fullness, not yet affected by the ineluctable Depravierung der Geschichte, a time that is the prestigious stump to which everything should be connected, the “parangon” with respect to which situations and actions ought to be estimated. Khaemuast marked a particular interest for restoring the monuments of the past, including the pyramids of Old Kingdom (Collombert, 2016: 41–42). His reverence for past included his past pairs, since this celebrated great man honored another former celebrated man, Iymhotep, by dedicating to him a libation basin commemorating the accomplishments he had made for the gods (Allen, 1999). This was a manner of contributing to the transmission of knowledge. Now, a good mark of reverence for the past is to take care of the ancient texts. For every text which is supposed to convey data that harken back to the primordial times, whatever may the particular topic (theology, rituals, magics, medicine, wisdom, etc.), is invested with an auctoritas that warrants its usefulness and efficacy: “Writings from ancient time, being something useful to the mankind.” (pEbers 47, 15–16) The available texts stand always liable to comments and interpretations that highlight some of their inner potentialities, which were remaining latent until then (Vernus, 2016a: 300–304). Among the reasons that account for the paramount status of the dead writers, there is the following one: while sharing with others the task of transmitting the knowledge, they actually did it better than the others thanks to their particular competence in dealing with ancient writings. For instance, Iymhotep is credited with philological works; he is described as: “one who fills what is found in gap in the ancient writings (lit.: the manifestations of Ra).” (Stela Vienna 154, l.5 = Wildung, 1977a: pl. VIII, 2; id., 1977b: 47) “Treatises and compilations are carved in his mind.” (Cauville, 2010: 19) Similarly, in an apocryphal statement inscribed on a colossus dedicated to Amenhotep son of Hapu in the Ptolemaic Period, he is allegedly boasting of the following achievements:

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

95

“I renewed what was destroyed in hieroglyphs; I highlighted what was riddled with gaps51 in (lit.: of) the ancient writings (lit.: the manifestations of Ra).” Statue JE 37206 (CGC 1199); back pillar l. 3; Wildung, 1977a: 253: see supra. Very close the following formulation in a hymn to him: “You renewed what was ruined, you completed what was found in gap as works for your father (= the god).” (Temple of Ptah in Karnak, Wildung, 1977a: 209) Now, enhancing the display of the knowledge is not restricted to a purely philological work on the transmission of the data that convey it. The wise men/sages distinguished by having reportedly discovered further texts, a kind of “archéologie préventive” avant la lettre. 9.2. Taking past in reverence and its philological implications While the pre-existing knowledge stems back from the solar creator, the texts that convey it have not been made available all at the same time. Indeed as soon as the creator god has entrusted the world to his human successors the pharaohs, he caused a lot of the texts to be accessible in the time of the ancestors and forerunners. However, on the one hand, some of these texts went out of human use and were forgotten in the course of history. On the other hand, the creator left some others concealed, delaying their disclosure to a later time. Not rarely, he chose a wise man as the agent of their discovery. This appears clearly in the so-called “discovery notices” or “origin records” – in German egyptology “Fundtopos” – that are, here and there, provided to warrant the authenticity of a text52. I just give some examples, staging a celebrated wise man/sage Hordjedef, who seems particularly associated with the discovery, probably because the posterity reminded – or invented – his deep involvement in the inventory of the temple furniture (Vernus, 2016b: 13–14). “Copying this writing according to what has been found as a writing of the King’s son Hordjedef, being something which he had discovered in a secrete chest, as writings of the God himself in the House of Unut, lady of Unu, when he sailed upstream to make inventory in the temples and towns, in the fields and in the divine mounds.” (Book of the Dead 137, version pNu)

51

My reading is a mere guess. For the idea, compare mH gm wS Hr bA.w-ra (Stela Vienna 154, l.5 = Wildung, 1977: pl. VIII, 2), quoted supra. 52 Some element of bibliography: Posener, 1965; Weber, 1969: 146–163; Wildung, 1969: 25–27 and 218–219; Vernus, 1995: 112–114; Volokhine, 2005; Stadler, 2009: 68–94. A thorough study of these notices will be given in Vernus, forthcoming 1. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

96

Pascal Vernus

“It was in Hermopolis, on a brick of hematite, inlaid in real lapis lazuli under the feet of this august god that this spell was found by the king’s son Hordjedef when he moved to make inventory in the temples. A bodyguard (?) was with him for that. After having required it (= the spell) by beseeching, he brought it as a marvel to the king because he saw that it was an important secret that could not be seen, that could not be observed.” (Book of the Dead 64, long version) In the following notice, two wise men are staged, Khaemuast and Amenhotep, son of Hapu: “The writings of the plate which the King’s son, magician Khaemuast found under the head of one transfigured dead of the West of Memphis, being more sacralized than any plate of the White House so that it acts as a fire door against spirits and dead to prevent them from reaching him who is in touch with it. It is useful a million of times. The book, the nature of which is secret, which the royal scribe, the magician Amenhotep son of Hapu had found: he made it for him as a protection of limbs.” (Book of the Dead 167; Wüthrich, 2015: 222–223) 9.3. Mastering of perfect speech as hallmark of the wise men/sages The merits of the dead writers, promoted as wise men/sages, lie not only in their care for philology and archeology, but also in their particular literary skillfulness. They know how to express the tenor of the knowledge about good and evil in formulations susceptible to facilitate their reception by the posterity and to enhance its usefulness in the most efficient manner (Vernus, 2010: 14). Here, the role of a good expression – “perfect speech (md.t nfr.t)” – shows up (Moers, 2001: 173–176). The purpose of works such as those that the dead writers provided is: “Teaching the ignorant to know according to the rules of perfect speech.” (Teaching of Ptahhotep, P 47–48; Vernus, 2010: 111) The “perfect speech” is not only a matter of esthetic but also a matter of efficiency, teaching being all the more efficient as it is well expressed. Richard Parkinson rightly notes that “the ‘perfection’ of speech ensures that cultural values and wisdom are remembered” (Parkinson, 2002: 120; see also Shupak, 1993: 334–335). And indeed, the dead writers were celebrated for their exceptional talent in expressing the basic knowledge about good and evil in perfect formulations, susceptible to be easily transmitted and to pass in the common culture, or, at least, in the elite culture. Consider the following passage of the Teaching of Ptahhotep: “What I have said to you (…) as for the manifestations of Maat it contains, it is its wealth. Their mentions circulate in the mouth of people due to the perfection of their formulations. One has recourse to any expression (…) (but) the one which is susceptible to become a maxim, it is referring to it © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

97

that the high officials talk. It means teaching a man to speak for eternity.” (Teaching of Ptahhotep, P 507–519; Vernus, 1995: 17; id., 2010: 142; Junge, 2003: 258) Three facts are highlighted: • • •

First what Ptahhotep is teaching to his son reflects Maat, the basic principles that rule the world, as established by the sun god creator. Second, his teaching is expressed in the most perfect expression. Third, due this perfect expression, it is a model on which the posterity can draw, and particularly the high officials (sr.w), that is to say those who play the primary role in the functioning of the pharaonic power53. Thus, the written transmission ensures the link between power and wisdom, as stressed by Jan Assmann (2000: 268): “Die Schrift ist in erster Linie (…) ein ‘Dispositiv der Macht’ und ein Organ der Weisung.”

Very significantly, it is said about Iymhotep and Hordjedef in a famous harpist song known by a hieroglyphic version in the tomb of Paitenemheb and in a hieratic version on a papyrus reportedly copy from the tomb of a king Antef: “If one can make formulation, it is by using their formulations.” (Vernus, 2010–2011: 103, n. 27954) So, wise men/sages produced so perfect expressions that their posterity cannot but take them over as their own expressions. 9.4. Exploiting and developing the potential of the pre-existing knowledge The dead writers were promoted to the status of wise men/sages also because they showed an exceptional ability in developing the potential of the knowledge they were dealing with. They were more prone than any other to find out in the ancient writings what can be relevant to an actual situation. Significantly, in a graffito, Amenhotep son of Hapu is evoked in the following words: “Him who knew what can be found55 in the ancient writings, these from the time of the ancestors.” (Graffito from Karnak; Jansen-Winkeln, 2007: 444, n° 94, l. 13)

53

The figures of the high official (sr) has a very important place in the wisdom texts, see Vernus, 2010: 33–35. Compare with “the great high officials” (sr.w aA.w), mentioned as authoritative persons in a magical papyrus quoted supra. See also n. 5. 54 Dd.tj is to be read Dd.tw. For other interpretations, see Wildung, 1977: 24, n. 24, who observes: “nicht ganz klar in der Formulierung (…) könnte auch heißen ‚die überliefert werden als ihre (eigenen) reden gar sehr‘ ”. As for the importance of cultural heritage with respect to language mastering, consider the related quotation: wSb s m Ts.w jt=f “it is via the sentences of his father that a man answers” (pChester Beatty IV, v° 6, 7). 55 Wildung, 1977: 281, read Ax.w(t) “what is useful”, instead of gmm(.t). My quotation of © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

98

Pascal Vernus

A common topos of Egyptian ideology is the consultation by the pharaoh of the ancient records so as to find out something that might illuminate an actual situation, be it only the negative research of precedent, thus highlighting its uniqueness, or as a guidance to face a particular need (Redford, 1986: 90–92; Gozzoli, 2006: 69, n. 68; see also id., 2009). A wise man/sage happens to use his particular competence in literacy so as to help the pharaoh. So did allegedly Iymhotep, responding to an appeal of King Djoser who was facing a terrible period of insufficient inundation: “I will unroll the ancient writings (lit.: the manifestations-of-Re) so as to guide according to them.” (Iymhotep Hunger stela, col.5; bibliography in Gozzoli, 2006: 247, n. 97) This kind of competence displayed in difficult situations is a cross-culturally hallmark of the wise men/sages. Let us quote Peter Espak: “someone who displays skills and knowledge in various crisis situations, including helping humanity or giving counsel in divine spheres, is titled as sage”. 9.5. Announcing future events One particular hallmark with which the wise men/sages were credited in exploiting and developing the pre-existing knowledge is the ability to announce future events (Foti, 1976). “Those who announced what was to come and it happened.” (pChester Beatty IV, v° 2, 6; see supra) “These wise men (rx.w) who announced what was to come, that which came forth from their mouths happened.” (pChester Beatty IV, v°3, 7–8; see supra) Amenhotep, son of Hapu and Iymhotep were credited with similar merits. Iymhotep is “One who tells what is going before it can be reached.” (Temple of Dendara; Cauville, 2010: 19) The capacity of knowing the future is credited to Amenhotep, son of Hapu by Manetho himself (Wildung, 1977a: 274). On what ground lies this capacity? On the fact that they are learned ones and knowing ones. Knowing the laws that rule the human society allows the wise men to announce the future (Fox, 1980: 128; Morenz, 2003: 111; Vernus, 2010: 359, n. 48). It should be stressed that the ability of announcing what is to happen is far from being akin to biblical prophetism (Cannuyer, 2010; Warburton, 2011: 309–310 and 314–316). This was well formulated by Helmut Brunner (1996: 34): this passage in Vernus, 2016a: 278, should be corrected. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

99

“‚Prophezeiungen‘ und Lebensregeln ruhen auf einer gemeinsamen Plattform, nämlich der Überzeugung, dass die Welt nach erkennbaren Regeln anläuft. Es ist nicht nur so, dass mit einem Geschichtsplan gerechnet wird, der von lange her festgelegt und wissbar ist, sondern dass Geschichte wie das Leben des Individuums nach Regeln abläuft, die der aufmerksame Beobachter erkennen, aus den Geschehnissen ablesen kann.” The events occur according to the plan of the creator god and according to the principles he set up for the course of the world. They are, in part at least, a matter of knowledge. Neferty, one of the celebrated dead writers, who, following the pharaoh’s request, made a prediction – “I will announce what has to come” – is characterized as a “learned one (rx-x.t)”. And it happens that in their autobiography, people proud of their particular mastering of knowledge, boasted of having announced future event (Janssen, 1946, 103 Em2) 56 . Indeed, the creator god knows the future. And, according to his mysterious whim, he allows the wise men/sages to share a part – needless to say, just a part – of his knowledge of the future by directly or indirectly inspiring them and bestowing on them an outstanding mastering of the ancient writings and of the wisdom they convey (Otto, 1961: 277–280). 9.6. Innovative contributions of the wise men/sage Wise men contributed also to the development of the pre-existing knowledge on good and evil and its social and religious consequences by adding to the common stock of wisdom that they were transmitting the product of their own experience of life. For instance, the vizier Kagemni, fictional author of an instruction, summons his children and present them his teaching, written down on a papyrus scroll57: “after he gained full knowledge of the nature of men, their character (bj.t) being something that had come to his understanding. Then he said to them: ‘As for everything which is written down on this scroll, listen to it as I say it’.” (Teaching of Kagemni; Vernus, 2010: 92) As formulated by A. Amenta (2002: 21) about the sage: “his experience becomes an unchanging model for all to follow.” Sometimes, the contributions of the wise men/sages turn out to be, not a mere actualization via their own experience of the tenets of the pre-existing knowledge, but true innovations involving creativity58. This is clear in the case of Iymhotep who owed his fame to his competence as an 56

A particularly developed cliché of this kind occurs in the Tomb of Djehuty (Theban Tomb 110); see Brunner, 1966: 33. 57 For the relationship between writing and oral transmission implied by this passage, see Redford, 1986: 146, n. 82. 58 For innovation in pharaonic ideology, see Assmann, 1985; Vernus, 1995: 115–121; Wilson, 2010. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

100

Pascal Vernus

architect, because he introduced the standard use of stone, formerly unknown or at least very restricted. The posterity extended this competence to the creation of new compositions. On a statue of him (Brooklyn 37.1356), on the papyrus which he is unrolling on his knees, the inscription reads: “May be granted to you the writing which you created in your mind.” (Brooklyn 37.1356; Wildung, 1977a: 86) Innovative was also Amenhotep, son of Hapu, when introduced the extensive use of quartzite. He himself underscored the novelty of his achievements: “Having been appointed as supervisor of all the works, I established the name of the king for eternity, without imitating what had been made before, having created for him a quarry of quarzite.” (Statue CGC 583, l. 16; Urk. IV, 1822, 10–13) “The day appears at the time he (= Amenhotep) is busy with (lit.: his concerns is) works on every kind of work; (he is) a man (because of whom) one does not longer recognize the course of what happened since the First Time because it is forgotten after he made their (= the works) locations.” (Statue CGC 583, l. 8–9; Urk. IV, 1817, 17–19) This holds also for Khaemuast who carried out a new necropolis for the Apis burials, and created new formulations for offering prayers. Sometimes, so as to enhance his own merits, Khaemuast does not hesitate to overtly belittle the previous accomplishments of the ancestors: “Please consider: it was only poor and unremarkable works that the ancestors had done.” (Serapeum dedicatory inscription, Barbotin, 2016c: 92, col. 7) It may seem surprising to encounter such a belittling of the past in the mouth of someone who was credited elsewhere with so much care and reverence for the monuments and writings of the past. 10. Wise men/sages as agents in the process of delayed disclosure Here lies a very important aspect of the pharaonic ideology. At first glance, it might seem somewhat contradictory that the wise men are relying on a pre-existing knowledge, the tenor of which harkens back to the primordial times, on the one hand, and that they are bringing new formulations, new texts, new experiences, new improvements to the state of the art, on the other hand. How to account of their being celebrated for innovative achievements within an ideology which lays down that the course of the human society was ruled by the mere conformity with models set up once and for all at the time of the creation?

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

101

The apparent contradiction is solved by referring to a fundamental of the pharaonic ideology: the world has been created as a whole in its entirety in the primordial times, yet it has not been fully completed. Many elements are in place, indeed, but as mere potentialities, awaiting their full development, like a field, of which a part remains in fallow, awaiting to be cultivated (Vernus, 2011b). Their disclosure has been delayed by the creator god, following the impenetrable paths of his will. It is via history and via its human agents that he has decided to develop these elements (Vernus, 1995: 111–121 and 167–168). In this perspective, we may understand the status of wise men. They have been selected by the creator god as auxiliaries in his process of delayed disclosure, that is to say the developing of what had remained until then as mere potentialities, in partibus, so to say, in the knowledge about good and evil and its ethic implementation in the society and religion, while having been set up since the primordial times. He inspired to them: •

• •

•

The rewarding exploitation of texts transmitted indeed since the ancestors and the times of the gods, but the usefulness and richness of which had not yet been fully appreciated and developed. For that, the creator god gave the wise men/sages an outstanding skillfulness in finding out in the available corpus what can be expected in the future, what may be useful for the current moment, what innovations could be relevant to cope with a new situation. The extension of the available corpus by the discovery of ancient texts remaining until then forgotten or hidden. The extension of the available corpus, by drawing on their own experiences of life for creating new authoritative texts, in line with the tenets of the pre-existing knowledge. An outstanding talent for making up perfect formulations, susceptible to provide models of expression for the posterity.

11. Wise men/sages and magicians sharing the same exceptional capacity I just have spoken of “talent”. The talent of the dead writers promoted as wise men/sage is expressed in the following ways in the eulogy of dead writers: “They are invisible from all the world, (but) their magics (HkAw) are intended for mankind.” (pChester Beatty IV, v° 3, 9–10) The use of the word magics (HkAw) to describe the power that their talent bestow on the writers and wise men/sage is noteworthy (Vernus, 2010: 51). Efficiency in literature somewhat involves mastering the same performative potentialities of language that are implied in magic. Fischer-Elfert (2003: 179) observes: “The notion of ‘magic’ was a fundamental criterion of ancient literature in Ramesside times, even when this aspect may not be in accord with our own ideas about literary theory.” There is a close relationship between magics (HkAw) and the notion de Axw (Barbash, 2011: 36 n. 7). The notion of Axw has been subject of many discus© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

102

Pascal Vernus

sions59. Having something to do with creativity, it denotes the capacity of eliciting a new state or situation out of a standard state or situation (Vernus, 2010: 153, n. 58, and supra). It is impossible to give a correct translation of the term; may be “capacity of transfiguring” “capacity of causing to pass from one state to another one” could be a not too bad approximation. Now the term Axw is also used by referring to the specific power that the talent imparts to experts, in general60, and to experts in particular domains. For instance, it is said of the learned ones (rx.wx.t) and physicians: “Thot who causes the writing to speak (…) gives the learned ones (rx.wx.t) and the physicians who are in attendance on him a capacity of transfiguring (Axw) so as to release the one whom the god wants them to heal.” (pEbers 1, 8–10; bibliography in Vernus, 2010: 66, n. 34) Thanks to Thot, the learned ones (rx.w-x.t) and the physicians can transform the statements of the writings there are using into the things they denote, in this case, the recovery of the patient. Since this quotation mentions the learned ones (rx.wx.t), how not to compare it with Amenhotep son of Hapu, a learned one, indeed, and a celebrated wise man/sage? Moreover, this man was sometimes invoked in his posterity as “the good physician” (Wildung, 1971: 277–279; Temple of Tod, inscription n°236; statue Chicago OIC 14321). He is recorded to have given a remedy via his oracle (Wildung, 1977a: 263–264). He is supposed to wDa xay.t “destroy illness” (Hymn: Wildung, 1977a: 209). “Moreover, having been initiated to the divine book, I saw Thot’'s capacity of transfiguring (Axw), in the secrets of which I penetrated and all the mysteries of which were revealed to me. One took counsels from me in all their points.” (Statue of Amenhotep fils de Hapu (CGC 583); Urk. IV, 1820, 12– 14) In a Middle Kingdom wisdom, in which sundry aphorisms are collected, Axw is treated as a hallmark of a “learned one/wise man (rx-x.t)”. Forgetting this capacity leads him to behave like an ignorant: “The learned one/wise man cannot recognize his hallmark. The learned one/wise man says: ‘I want to acquire’, just like the ignorant when he forgets his capacity (Axw).” (pRamesseum II v° II, 4; see Morenz, 1996: 142– 143; Quirke, 2004: 189; Vernus, 2010: 306; see supra)

59

A good survey of what has been said about Axw can be found in Janak, 2013: 6. Among a lot of very interesting contributions, which I cannot mention for sake of brevity, a special attention should be paid to the study of Jansen-Winkeln, 1996. 60 For instance “There is no expert whose capacity (Axw) is (totally) acquired”, Teaching of Ptahhotep, P 54; see Vernus, 2010: 111; and the opposite assertion in an autobiography, see Morenz, 1996: 143. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

103

Here, the presupposed capacity of the “learned one”/wise man is his capacity for discernment via which he can transfigure the common behavior in society in a behavior in conformity with the Maat. The talent of great writers lies in their outstanding capacity of transfiguring the common vision of the world into a vision where the rules of Maat show up, and in their outstanding capacity of transfiguring mere statements into the reality they denote (“How to do things with words”61), thus implementing the power of speech (Junge, 2003: 209). Therefore, their talent shares the same nature as the magic power mastered by the magician: both involve magics (HkAw) and capacity of transfiguring (Axw). Bibliography Agut-Labordère, D., 2011: Le sage et l’insensé. La composition et la transmission des sagesses démotiques Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études Sciences historiques et philologique Tome 345. Paris. Agut-Labordère, D. / Chauveau, M., 2011: Héros, magiciens et sages oubliés de l’Égypte ancienne. Une anthologie de la littérature en égyptien démotique. Paris. Ali, A., 2015: “More unpublished stelae from Tell Basta and the earliest evidence for the deification of Amenhotep I”. Göttinger Miszellen 246, 5–15. Alliot, M., 1937: “Un nouvel exemple de vizir divinisé”. Bulletin de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale 37, 93–160. Altenmüller, H., 2012: “Bemerkungen zum Architrav und zur Scheintür des Felsgrabes des Anchi unter der Südumfassung der Djoseranlage in Saqqara”. Studien zur altägyptischen Kultur 41, 1–20. Allen, J., 1999: “A Monument of Khaemwaset honoring Imhotep”. In E. Teeter / J.A. Larson (eds.): Gold of Praise. Studies on Ancient Egypt in Honor of Edward F. Wente. The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilizations 58. Chicago. Pp.1–10. — 2011: The Debate between a Man and His Soul. A Masterpiece of Ancient Egyptian Literature. Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 44. Leiden. Andreu, G., 2002: “Le culte posthume de deux souverains divinisés: la reine Ahmès Néfertari et son fils Aménophis Ier”. In Les Artistes de Pharaon Deir elMédineh et la Vallée des Rois. Paris. Pp.252–253. Amenta, A., 2002: “The Egyptian Tomb as a House of Life for the Afterlife”. In R. Pirelli (ed.): Egyptological Essays on State and Society. Universita degli Studi di Napoli “L’Orientale” Serie Egittologia 2. Naples. Pp. 13–26. Assmann, J., 1985a: “Die Entdeckung der Vergangenheit. Innovation und Restauration in der ägyptischen Literaturgeschichte”. In H.V. Gumbrecht / U. LinkerHeel (eds.): Epochenstellen und Epochenstruktur im Diskurs der Sprach- und 61

For the relevance to Egyptian believes of the concept of performativity which elicited enormous discussions since Austin, see Vernus (1985), and most recently David (2016). © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

104

Pascal Vernus

Literaturhistorie. Frankfurt. Pp. 484–498. — 1985b: “Gibt es eine ‚Klassik‘ in der ägyptischen Literaturgeschichte? Ein Beitrag zur Geistgeschichte der Ramessidenzeit”. In W. Röllig (ed.): XXII. Deutscher Orientalistentag von 21. bis 25. März 1983 in Tübingen. Ausgewählte Vorträge. ZDMG Supplement VI. Stuttgart. Pp. 35–52. — 1990: Ma'at Gerechtigkeit und Unsterblichkeit im Alten Ägypten. Munich. — 1995: Stein und Zeit. Mensch und Gesellschaft im alten Ägypten. Munich. — 1999: “Cultural and literary texts”. In G. Moers (ed.): Definitely: Egyptian literature. Proceeding of the symposium “Ancient Egyptian literature: history and forms” Los Angeles, March 24–26, 1995. Lingua Aegyptia – Studia Monographica 2. Göttingen. Pp.1–15. — 2000: Das kulturelle Gedächtnis. Schrift, Erinnerung und politische Identität in frühe Hochkulturen. Munich. Aufrère, S., 2004: “Imhotep et Djoser dans la région de la cataracte”. Bulletin de l’Institut Français d’Archéolologie Orientale 104, 1–20. Baines, J., 1987: “Practical Religion and Piety”. Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 73, 79–98. — 1994: “Contexts of Fate: Literature and practical Religion”. In Chr. Eyre / A. Leahy / L. Montagno Leahy (eds.): The Unbroken Reed. Studies in the Culture and Heritage of Ancient Egypt in Honour of A.F. Shore. The Egypt Exploration Society Occasional Publications. London. Pp 37–52. — 2012: “On the Iconography of the God Heka and Old Kingdom Magic or Magicians”. In Chr. Zivie-Coche / Y. Guermeur (eds.): “Parcourir l’éternité” Hommages à Jean Yoyotte. Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études Sciences Religieuses 156. Turnhout. Pp. 49–58. Barbash, Y., 2011: The mortuary Papyrus of Padikakem Walters Art Museum 551. Yale Egyptological Studies 8. New Haven. Barbotin, Chr., 2016a: “Sages et érudits: les connaissances littéraires”. In A. Charron / Chr. Barbotin (eds.): Savoir et pouvoir à l’époque de Ramsès II Khâemouaset le prince archéologue. Arles. Pp. 168–172. — 2016b: “Khâemouaset, prince érudit: Savoir et pouvoir dans l’Égypte ancienne”. In A. Charron / Chr. Barbotin (eds.): Savoir et pouvoir à l’époque de Ramsès II Khâemouaset le prince archéologue, Arles. Pp. 154–158. — 2016c: “L’inscription dédicatoire du Sérapéum”. In A. Charron / Chr. Barbotin (eds.): Savoir et pouvoir à l’époque de Ramsès II Khâemouaset le prince archéologue. Arles. Pp. 91–92. — 2016d: “Groupe familial d’Isetnéfret et de ses fils”. In A. Charron / Chr. Barbotin (eds.): Savoir et pouvoir à l’époque de Ramsès II Khâemouaset le prince archéologue. Arles. Pp. 30–31. — 2016e: “La notion de savoir et sa transmission”. In A. Charron / Chr. Barbotin (eds.): Savoir et pouvoir à l’époque de Ramsès II Khâemouaset le prince archéologue. Arles. Pp. 161–162.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

105

Barns, J., 1956: Five Ramesseum Papyri. Oxford. Baud, M., 1999: Famille royale et pouvoir sous l’Ancien Empire égyptien. Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale Bibliothèque d’Études 126. 2 Vols. Cairo. Beinlich, H., 1991: Das Buch vom Fayum. Zum religiösen Eigenverständnis einer ägyptischer Landschaft. Text-Band. Wiesbaden. Bergman, J., 1979: “Gedanken zum Thema ‚Lehre-Testament-Grab-Name‘”. In E. Hornung / O.Keel (eds.): Studien zu Altägyptischen Lebenslehren. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 28. Pp. 94–99 Bickel, S., 2002: “Aspects et fonctions de la déification d’Amenhotep III”. Bulletin de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale 102, 63–90. Blumenthal, E., 2013: “Königslisten im Toten- und Herrscherkult von Deir elMedine”. In H.-W. Fischer-Elfert / R.B. Parkinson (eds.): Studies on the Middle Kingdom. In Memory of Detlef Franke. Philippika Marburger altertumskundliche Abhandlungen 41. Wiesbaden. Pp. 22–54. Bolshakov, A. / Soushchevski A., 1998: “Hero and Society in Ancient Egypt”. Göttinger Miszellen 164, 21–31. Bonhême, M.A., 2001: “Divinity”. In D.B. Redford (ed.): The Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient Egypt Volume 1. Oxford. Pp. 401–406. Borghouts, J., 1982: “Divine Intervention in Ancient Egypt and its Manifestation”. In R.J. Demarée / J.J. Janssen (eds.): Gleanings from Deir el-Medîna. Egyptologische Uitgaven I. Leiden. Pp 1–70. — 1985: “Witchcraft, Magic, and Divination in Ancient Egypt”. In J.A. Sasson (ed.): Civilizations of the Ancient Near East III. New York. Pp. 1775–1785. Brunner, H., 1966: “Die ‚Weisen‘, ihre ‚Lehren‘ und ‚Prophezeiungen‘ aus altägyptischer Sicht”. Zeitschrift für Ägyptische Sprache und Altertumskunde 93, 29–35. Campagno, M., 2014: “Patronage and Other Logics of Social Organization in Ancient Egypt during the IIIrd Millennium BCE”. Journal of Egyptian History 7, 1–13. Cannuyer, Chr., 2001: “Thotemheb, le savant scribe ramesside de la Stèle de Bakhtan”. Lingua Aegyptia 9, 37–43. — 2010: La girafe dans l’Égypte ancienne et le verbe śr. Étude de lexicographie et de symbolique animalière. Acta Orientalia Belgica – Subsidia, IV. Bruxelles. Cauville, S., 1997: Le temple de Dendara. Les chapelles Osiriennes. Dendara X Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale. Cairo. — 2010: “Imhotep: un avatar de Thot”. Göttinger Miszellen 224, 17–25. Charron, A. / Barbotin, Chr., (eds.): 2016: Savoir et pouvoir à l’époque de Ramsès II Khâemouaset le prince archéologue. Arles. Chauveau, M., 1992: “Un traité d’astrologie en écriture démotique”. Cahiers de Recherches de l’Institut de Papyrologie de Lille 14, 101–105.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

106

Pascal Vernus

— 2016: “La postérité du prince Khâemouaset”. In A. Charron / Chr. Barbotin (eds.): Savoir et pouvoir à l’époque de Ramsès II Khâemouaset le prince archéologue. Arles. Pp. 290–293. Collombert, Ph., 1995: “Hout-Sekhem et le septième nome de Haute-Égypte I*: La divine Oudjarenes”. Revue d’Égyptologie 46, 55–79. — 2002: “Une statue thébaine d’Amenhotep fils de Hapou trouvée à Esna”. Bulletin de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale 192, 137–142. — 2016: “Khâemouaset, grand prêtre de Ptah et ‘prince archéologue’”. In A. Charron / Chr. Barbotin (eds.): Savoir et pouvoir à l’époque de Ramsès II Khâemouaset le prince archéologue. Arles. Pp. 40–43. Contardi, Fr., 2010: “Egyptian Terms Used to Indicate the Act of Reading: An Investigation about the Act of Reading in the Egyptian Society”. In F.M. Fales / G.G. Grassi (eds.): Camsemud 2007 Proceedings of the 13th italian meeting of afro-asiatic linguistics held in Udine, may 21st‒24th, 2007. Padova. Pp. 261– 269. David, A., 2016: “How to Do Things with Hw: The Egyptian Performative iw- n-”. In N. Bosson / A. Boud’hors / S.H. Aufrère (eds.): Labor Omnia Uicit Improbus: Miscellanea in Honorem Ariel Shisha-Halevy. Orientalia Loveniensia Analecta. Leuven: Peeters. Pp. 411–30. De Meulenaere, H., 1986: “Verehrung verstorbener Privatleute”. In W. Helck / W. Westendorf (eds.): Lexicon der Ägyptologie Band VI. Wiesbaden. Col. 973–974. Demaree, R.J., 1983: The Ax iqr n ra-Stelae on Ancestor Worship in Ancient Egypt. Egyptologische Uitgaven III. Leiden. — 2002: “Le culte des ancêtres”. In Les Artistes de Pharaon Deir el-Médineh et la Vallée des Rois. Paris. Pp.136–137. Demichelis, S., 2002: “La divination par l’huile à l’époque ramesside”. In Y. Koenig (ed.): La magie en Égypte: à la recherche d’une définition. Actes du colloque organisé par le Musée du Louvre les 29 et 30 septembre 2000. Paris. Pp. 149–163. Donnat, S., 2002: “Le bol comme support de la Lettre au mort. Vers la mise en évidence d’un rituel magique”. In Y. Koenig (ed.): La magie en Egypte: à la recherche d’une définition. Actes du colloque organisé par le Musée du Louvre les 29 et 30 septembre 2000. Paris. Pp. 209–225. — 2009: “Le rite comme seul référent dans les lettres aux mort”. Bulletin de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale 109, 61–93. Donnat Beauquier, S., 2014: Écrire à ses morts Enquête sur un usage rituel de l’écrit dans l’Égypte pharaonique. Grenoble. Donnat, S. / Moreno García, J.C., 2014: “Intégration du mort dans la vie sociale égyptienne à la fin du troisième millénaire av. J.-C.”. In A. Mouton / J.Patrier (eds.): Life, Death, and Coming of Age in Antiquity: Individual Rites of Passage in the Ancient Near East and Adjacent Regions. PIHANS 124. Leiden:

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

107

Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten. Pp. 179–207. Edel, E., 1944: “Untersuchungen zur Phraseologie der ägyptischen Inschriften des Alten Reiches”. Mitteilungen des Deutschen Instituts für ägyptische Altertumskunde in Kairo 13, 1–90 El-Enany, K., 2003: “Le saint thébain Montouhotep-Nebhépetrê”. Bulletin de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale 103, 167–189. — 2014: “La divinisation posthume de Sésostris III en Nubie”. In Fl. Morfoisse / G. Andreu-Lanoë (eds.): Sésostris III Pharaon de légende. Gand. Pp. 228– 231. Enmarch, R., 2008: A World upturned Commentary on and Analysis of the Dialogue of Ipuwer and the Lord of All. Oxford. Exell, K., 2008: “Ancestor Bust”. In E. Frood / W. Wendrich (eds.): UCLA Encyclopedia of Egyptology. Los Angeles. Fischer, H.G., 1965: “BiA and the Deified Vizier MHw”. Journal of the American Research Center in Egypt 4, 49–53. Fischer-Elfert. H-W., 1993: “Recension of A. Gasse, Catalogue des ostraca hiératiques littéraires”. Bibliotheca Orientalis 50, col. 125–130. — 1996: “Die Arbeit am Text: altägyptische Literaturwerke aus philologischer Perspektive”. In A. Loprieno (ed.): Ancient Egyptian Literature. History and Forms. Probleme der Ägyptologie 10. Leiden / New York / Cologne. Pp. 500– 513. — 1999: Die Lehre eines Mannes für seinen Sohn Eine Etappe auf dem ‚Gottesweg‘ des loyalen und solidarischen Beamten des Mittleren Reiches. Ägyptologische Abhandlungen 60 Textband. Wiesbaden. — 2002: “Quelques textes et une vignette du papyrus magique n° 1826 de la bibliothèque nationale d’Athènes”. In Y. Koenig (ed.): La magie en Egypte: à la recherche d’une définition. Actes du colloque organisé par le Musée du Louvre les 29 et 30 septembre 2000. Paris. Pp. 167–183. — 2003: “Representation of the past in the New Kingdom Literature”. In J. Tait (ed.): Never had the like occurred. London. Pp. 119–137 — 2005: Abseits von Ma'at. Fallstudien zu Außenseitern im Alten Ägypten. Wahrnehmungen und Spuren Altägyptens – Kulturgeschichtliche Beiträge zur Ägyptologie 1. Würzburg. — 2006: Die satirische Streitschrift des Papyrus Anastasi I. Übersetzung und Kommentar. Ägyptologische Abhandlungen 44. Wiesbaden. Fischer-Elfert, H.-W. / Grimm, A., 2003: “Autobiographie und Apotheose. Die Statue des ZS(S)n ZA-Hw.t-Hr.w im Staatlichen Museum Ägyptischer Kunst München”. Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache und Altertumskunde 130, 60– 80. Foster, J.L., 2001: “Wisdom Texts”. In D.B. Redford (ed), The Oxford Encylopedia of Ancient Egypt Volume 3. Oxford. Pp. 503–507.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

108

Pascal Vernus

Foti, L., 1976: “The History in the Prophecies of Noferti: Relationship between the Egyptian Wisdom and Prophecy literature”. Studia Aegyptiaca 2, 3–18. Fox, M., 1980: “Two Decades of Research in Egyptian Wisdom Literature”. Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache und Altertumskunde 107, 120–135. Franke, D., 1994: Das Heiligtum des Heqaib auf Elephantine. Studien zur Archäologie und Geschichte Altägyptens 9. Heidelberg. — 1998: “Kleiner Mann (nDs) – was bist Du?”. Göttinger Miszellen 167: 33–48. — 2006: “Fürsorge und Patronat in der Ersten Zwischenzeit und im Mittleren Reiches”. Studien zur altägyptischen Kultur 34, 159–185. Galan, J., 2000: “The Ancient Egyptian Sed-Festival and the Exemption from Corvee”. Journal of Near Eastern Studies 59, 255–264. Gardiner, A.H., 1935: Hieratic Papyri in the British Museum Third Series Chester Beatty Gift. 2 Vols. London. — 1957: Egyptian Grammar. Being an introduction to the study of hieroglyphs, 3rd ed. Oxford. Goedicke, H., 1955: “Ein Verehrer des Weisen DdfHr aus dem späten Alten Reich”. Annales du Service des Antiquités de l’Égypte 55, 35–55. — 1986: “Vergöttlichung”. In W. Helck / W. Westendorf (eds.): Lexikon der Ägyptologie Band VI. Wiesbaden. Col. 989–991. Gomaa, F., 1973: Chaemmwese Sohn Ramses’ II. und Hohepriester von Memphis. Ägyptologische Abhandlungen 27. Wiesbaden. Gozzoli, R.B. 2006: The Writing of History in Ancient Egypt during the First Millenium BC (CA 1070–180 BC). Trends and Perspectives. GHP Egyptology 5. London. — 2008: “Demotic Stela Brooklyn 37.1851 E : Some Additonal Comments”. Göttinger Miszellen 218, 33–35. — 2009: “Kawa V and Taharqo’s byAwt Some aspects of Nubian royal ideology”. Journal of Egyptian Archeology 95, 235–248. Grandet, P., 2002: “Ostracon: consultation d’une voyante”. In Les Artistes de Pharaon. Deir el-Médineh et la Vallée des Rois. Paris. Pp. 119. Gundlach, R., 1986: “Verehrung früherer Könige”. In W. Helck / W. Westendorf (eds.): Lexicon der Ägyptologie Band VI. Wiesbaden. Col. 960–973. Hagen, Fr., 2012: An Ancient Egyptian Literary Text in Context. The Instruction of Ptahhotep. Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta 218. Leuven/Paris/Walpole. Hannig, R., 2006: Ägyptisches Wörterbuch II: Mittleres Reich und Zweite Zwischenzeit. Hannig-Lexica 5. Kulturgeschichte der Antiken Welt 112. Mayence. Hermann, S., 1957: Untersuchungen zur Überlieferungsgestalt mittelägyptischer Literaturwerke. Deutsche Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin Institut für Orient-Forschung Veröffentlichung Nr. 33. Berlin. Hoffmann, Fr., 2001: “Science”. In D.B. Redford (ed), The Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient Egypt 3. Oxford. Pp. 181–186; 2nd ed. Pp. 201–202.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

109

Hoffmann, Fr. / Quack, J., 2007: Anthologie der demotischen Literatur. Einführung und Quellentexte zur Ägyptologie Band 4. Berlin. Hollender, G., 2009. Amenophis I. und Ahmes Nefertari. Untersuchungen zur Entwicklung ihres posthumen Kultes anhand der Privatgräber der thebanischen Nekropole. DAIK Sonderschrift 21. Berlin / New York. Jaeger, S., 2004: Altägyptische Berufstypologien. LinguaAegyptia – Studia Monographica 4. Göttingen. Janak, J., 2013: “Akh”. In E. Frood / W. Wendrich (eds.): UCLA Encyclopaedia of Egyptology. Los Angeles. Jansen-Winkeln, K., 1985: Ägyptische Biographien der 22. und 23. Dynastie. Ägypten und Altes Testament 8. Wiesbaden. — 1996: “‚Horizont‘ und ‚Verklärtheit‘: Zur Bedeutung der Wurzel Ax”. Studien zur Altägyptischen Kultur 23, 201–215. — 1997: “Eine Grabübernahme in der 30. Dynastie”. Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 83, 169–178. — 2001: Biographische und religiöse Inschriften der Spätzeit aus dem Ägyptischen Museum Kairo. Teil 1 und Teil 2. Ägypten und Altes Testament 45. Wiesbaden. — 2007: Inschriften der Spätzeit. Teil II: Die 22.–24. Dynastie. Wiesbaden. Janssen, J.M., 1946: De traditioneele egyptische autobiografie voor het nieuwe rijk Eerste Deel De Teksten. Leiden. Jasnow, R. / Zauzich, K-Th., 2005: The Ancient Egyptian Book of Thot. A Demotic Discourse on Knowledge and Pendant to the Classical Hermetica. Volume 1. Wiesbaden. Junge, Fr., 2003: Die Lehre Ptahhoteps und die Tugenden der ägyptischen Welt. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 193. Friburg /Göttingen. Kadish, G., 2001: “Wisdom Tradition”. In D.B. Redford (ed): The Oxford Encylopedia of Ancient Egypt Volume 3. Oxford. Pp. 507–510. Kahl, J., 2012: “Regionale Milieus und die Macht des Staates im Alten Ägypten. Die Vergöttlichung der Gaufürsten von Assiut”. Studien zur altägyptischen Kultur 41, 163–188. Karl, D., 2000: “Funktion und Bedeutung einer weisen Frau im alten Ägypten”. Studien zur altägyptischen Kultur 28,131–160. Kitchen, K.A., 1989: Rameside Inscriptions Historical and Biographical VII. Oxford. Klotz, D., 2012: Caesar in the City of Amun. Egyptian Temple Construction and Theology in the Roman Thebes. Monographies Reine Élizabeth. Turnhout. — 2015: The Sorrows of Young Nesmin: The Early Demise of a Theban Priest”. In Chr. Thiers (ed.): Documents de théologie thébaine tardive (D3T3). CENIM 13. Montpellier. Pp 91–139. Koenig, Y., 1994: Magie et magiciens dans l’Égypte ancienne. Bibliothèque de l’Égypte ancienne. Paris.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

110

Pascal Vernus

Laskowska-Kusztal, E., 1989. “Imhotep d’Éléphantine”. In S. Schoske (ed.): Akten des Vierten Internationalen Ägyptologen-Kongresses München 1985, Band 3. Hamburg. Pp. 281–287. Lazaridis, N., 2008: “Ethics”. In E. Frood / W. Wendrich (eds.): UCLA Encyclopaedia of Egyptology. Los Angele Leclant J. / Berger, C., 1996: “Des confréries religieuses à Saqqara, à la fin de la XIIe dynastie ?”. In P. Der Manuelian (ed.): Studies in Honor of William Kelly Simpson 2. Boston. Pp. 499–506. Leitz, Chr., (ed.): 2002: Lexicon der ägyptischen Götter und Götterbezeichnungen. Band IV. Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta 113. Leuven/Paris/Dudley. Lepper, V., 2008: Untersuchungen zu pWestcar. Eine philologische und literaturwissenschaftliche (Neu-)Analyse. Ägyptologische Abhandlungen 70. Wiesbaden. Lesko, B., 2001: “Private Cults”. In D.B. Redford (ed.): The Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient Egypt, Volume 1. Oxford. Pp. 336–339. Lesko, L. 1982–1990. A Dictionary of Late Egyptian. Volume I–V. Providence. Letellier, B., 1980: “La destinée de deux enfants. Un ostracon ramesside inédit”. In Livre du Centenaire de l’IFAO (1880–1980). Mémoires de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale 104. Cairo. Pp. 127–133. Lichtheim. M., 1983: Late Egyptian Wisdom Literature in the International Context. A Study of Demotic Instructions. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 52. Friburg/Göttingen. — 1988: Ancient Egyptian Autobiographies chiefly of the Middle Kingdom. A Study and an Anthology. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 84. Friburg/Göttingen. — 1996: “Didactic Literature”. In A. Loprieno (ed.): Ancient Egyptian Litterature. History and Forms. Probleme der Ägyptologie 10. Leiden / New York / Cologne. Pp. 243–262. — 1997: Moral Values in Ancient Egypt. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 155. Friburg/Göttingen. von Lieven, A., 2000: “Kleine Beiträge zur Vergöttlichung Amenophis’ I., I: Amenophis I. auf schildförmigen Mumienamuletten”. Revue d’Égyptologie 51, 103–121. — 2001: “Kleine Beiträge zur Vergöttlichung Amenophis’ I., II: Der AmenophisKult nach dem Ende des Neuen Reiches”. Zeitschrift für ägyptischen Sprache und Altertumskunde 128, 41–64. — 2010: “Deified Humans”. In E. Frood / W. Wendrich (eds.): UCLA Encyclopedia of Egyptology. Los Angeles. — 2017: “Of Choachytes and Saints: Demotic Documentary Texts as Sources of Religious Practices”. In R. Jasnow / Gh. Widmer (eds.): Illuminating Osiris. Egyptological Studies in Honor of Mark Smith. Atlanta, Pp. 239–245. Loprieno, A., 1996: “Loyalistic Instructions”. In A. Loprieno (ed.): Ancient Egyptian Literature. History and Forms. Probleme der Ägyptologie 10. Leiden /

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

111

New York / Cologne. Pp. 403–414. — 2001. La pensée et l’écriture. Pour une analyse sémiotique de la culture égyptienne. Paris Mathieu, B., 2012: “Réflexions sur le ‹fragment Daressy› et ses hommes illustres”. In Chr. Zivie-Coche/Y. Guermeur (eds.): «Parcourir l’éternité». Hommages à Jean Yoyotte. Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études Sciences Religieuses 156. Turnhout. Pp. 819–853. McDowell, A.G., 1999: Village Life in Ancient Egypt. Laundry Lists and Love Songs. Oxford. Moers, G., 2001: Fingierte Welten in der ägyptischen Literatur des 2. Jahrtausends v. Chr. Grenzüberschreitung, Reisemotiv und Fiktionalität. Probleme der Ägyptologie 19. Beiden/Boston/Köln. — 2008: “Zur Relevanz der Namensliste des pChester Beatty IV für Versuche einer funktionalen Binnendifferenzierung des gemeinhin als “literarisch” bezeichneten Gattungssystems des Mittleren Reiches”. In K. Peust (ed.): Miscellanea in honorem Wolfhart Westendorf. Göttinger Miszellen Beihefte Nr 3. Göttingen. Pp. 44–52. Moore, T., 2013. “The Lords of the West in Ramesside Tombs”. In P.P. Creasman (ed.): Archaeological research in the valley of the Kings and ancient Thebes. Papers Presented in Honor of Richard H. Wilkinson. University of Arizona Egyptian Expedition Wilkinson Egyptology Series, Vol. I. Pp. 201–225. Morales, A., 2006: “Traces of official and popular veneration to Nyuserra Iny at Abusir. Late Fifth Dynasty to the Middle Kingdom”. In M. Barta / F. Coppens / J. Krejci (eds.): Abusir and Saqqara in the year 2005. Prague. Pp. 311–341. Moreno Garcia, J.C. 2006. “La gestion sociale de la mémoire dans l’Égypte du IIIe millénaire: les tombes de particuliers, entre emploi privé et idéologie publique”. In M. Fitzenreiter / M. Herb, Dekorierte Grabanlagen im Alten Reich. Methodik und Interpretation. IBAES VI. London. Pp. 215–242 — 2010: “Oracles, Ancestor Cults and Letters to the Dead: the Involvement of the Dead in the Public and Private Family Affairs in Pharaonic Egypt”. In A. Storch (ed.): Perception of the Invisible: Religion, Historical Semantics and the Role of Perceptive Verbs. Sprache und Geschichte in Afrika 21. Cologne. Pp. 133–153. — 2013: “Household”. In E. Frood / W. Wendrich (eds.): UCLA Encyclopedia of Egyptology. Los Angeles. Morenz, L.D., 1996: Beiträge zur Schriftlichkeitskultur im Mittleren Reich und in der 2. Zwischenzeit. Ägypten und Altes Testament 29. Wiesbaden. — 2003: “Literature as a Construction of the Past in the Middle Kingdom”. In J. Tait (ed.): Never had the like occurred. London. Pp. 101–117. — 2013: “Egyptian Life, by and with Literary Texts”. In R. Enmarch / V. Lepper (eds.): Ancient Egyptian Literature. Theory and Practice. Proceeding of the British Academy 188. Oxford. Pp.227–250.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

112

Pascal Vernus

— 2016: Hoffen und Handeln. Vom altägyptischen Heka. Hans-Bonnet Studien zur Ägyptischen Religion 2. Berlin. Münster, M., 1968: Untersuchungen zur Göttin Isis vom Alten Reich bis zum Ende des Neuen Reiches. Münchner Ägyptologische Studien 11. Munich. Navratilova, H., 2016: “Khaemwaset in Dahshur: The Prince and the Stones”. In R. Landgravova / J. Mynarova (eds.): Rich & Great. Studies in Honour of Anthony J. Spalinger on the Occasion of his 70th Feast of Thoth. Charles University in Prague, Faculty of Arts. Prague. Pp. 259–266. Nissinen, M., 2013. “Gender and Prophetic Agency in the Ancient near East and in Greece”. In J. Stökl / C.L. Carvalho (eds.): Prophets Male and Female: Gender and Prophecy in the Hebrew Bible, the Eastern Mediterranean, and the Ancient Near East. Ancient Israel and Its Literature. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. Pp. 27–58. Obsomer, Cl., 1989: Les campagnes de Sésostris dans Hérodote. Connaissance de l’Égypte ancienne. Bruxelles. Oppenheim, A. / Allen, J.P., 2002: “The Inscription of Prince Khaemwaset”. In D. Arnold: The Pyramid Complex of Senwosret III at Dahshur. Architectural Studies. Publications of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Egyptian Expedition. New York. Pp. 29–30. Orsenigo, Chr., 2013: “‘Venite a me, voi che deisderate veder Amon!’ Amenhotep figlio di Hapu negli archivi di egittologia dell’università degli studi di Milano”. In S. Bussi (ed.): Egitto dai faraoni agli arabi Atti del covegno egitto: administrazione, economia, societa, cultura dai faraoni agli arabi Milano, Universtià degli studi, 7–9 gennaio 2015. Studi Ellenisitci – Supplementi 1. Milan. Pp. 59–68. Otto, Eb., 1942: “Gehalt und Bedeutung des ägyptischen Heroenglaubens”. Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache und Altertumskunde 78, 28–40. — 1957: “Zwei Bemerkungen zum Königskult der Spätzeit”. Mitteilungen des Deutschen Instituts für ägyptische Altertumskunde in Kairo 15, 193–207. — 1961: “Zum Gottesbegriff der ägyptischen Spätzeit”. Forschungen und Fortschritt 35/9, 277–280. Parkinson, R.B. 1996: “Types of literature in the Middle Kingsom”. In A. Loprieno (ed.): Ancient Egyptian Literature. History and Forms. Probleme der Ägyptologie 10. Leiden / New York / Cologne. Pp. 297–312. — 1997: “The Text of Khakheperresenb: New Readings of EA 5645, and an Unpublished Ostracon”. Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 83, 55–68. — 2002: Poetry and Culture in Middle Kingdom Egypt. A Dark Side to Perfection. London / New York. — 2009: Reading Ancient Egyptian Poetry among other histories. Wiley-Blackwell. — 2012: The Tale of the Eloquent Peasant: A Reader’s Commentary. Lingua Aegyptia Studia Monographica 10. Hamburg.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

113

Perdu, O., 2012: “Montant d’une porte de chapelle de Tjaisetimou”. In Le crépuscule des pharaons Chefs-d’oeuvre des dernières dynasties égyptiennes. Musée Jacquemart André Institut de France. Paris. Pp. 72–73. Posener, G., 1965: “Philologie et Archéologie égyptiennes”. Annuaire du Collège de France 65e année, 339–346. Quack, J.Fr., 1998: “Ein übersehener Beleg für den Imhotep-Kut in Theben”. Revue d’Égyptologie 49, 255–256. — 2003: “Aus einer spätzeitlichen literarischen Sammelhandschriften (papyrus Berlin 23045)”. Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache und Altertumskunde 130, 182–185. — 2005: “Tabuisierte und ausgegrenzte Kranke nach dem ‚Buch von Tempel‘”. In H.-W. Fischer-Elfert (ed.): Papyrus Ebers und die antike Heilkunde. Akten der Tagung von 15.–16.3.2002 in der Albertina/UB der Universität Leipzig. Wiesbaden. Pp. 63–77. — 2009: Einführung in die altägyptische Literaturgeschichte III. Die demotische und gräko-ägyptische Literatur. Einführungen und Quellentexte zur Ägyptologie 3. Berlin. — 2013: “Quelques apports récents des études démotiques à la compréhension du livre II d’Hérodote”. In L. Coulon / alii (eds.): Hérodote et l’Égypte. Regards croisés sur le Livre II de l’Enquête d’Hérodote. Collection de la Maison de l’Orient de la Méditerranée 51. Série littéraire et philosophique 18. Lyon. Pp. 63–88. — 2014 “Imhotep – der Weise, der zum Gott wurde”. In V. Lepper (ed.). Persönlichkeiten aus dem Alten Ägypten in Neuen Museum, Berlin. Pp. 43–66. Quaegebeur, J.,1977a: Le dieu égyptien Shaï dans la religion et l’onomastique. Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta 2. Leuven. — 1977b: “Les ‘saints’ égyptiens préchrétiens”. Orientalia Lovaniensia Periodica 8, 129–143. — 1987: “La désignation (pA)-Hry-tp: phritob”. In J. Osing / G. Dreyer (eds.): Form und Mass. Beiträge zur Literatur, Sprache und Kunst des alten Ägypten. Festschrift für Gerhard Fecht. Ägypten und Altes Testament 12. Wiesbaden. Pp. 368–394. Quirke, St., 2004: Egyptian Literature 1800 BC. questions and readings. GHP Egyptology 2. London. Redford, D.B., 1986: Pharaonic King-lists, Annals and Day-books. A contribution to the Study of the Egyptian Sense of History. SSEA Publication IV. Mississauga. Reineke, W.F., 1982: “Wissenschaft und Wissenschaftler im alten Ägypten”. Archiv für Orientforschung 9, 13–31. Ritner, R., 1993: The Mechanics of Ancient Egyptian Magical Practice. Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilization 54. Chicago.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

114

Pascal Vernus

— 2002: “Des preuves de l’existence d’une nécromancie dans l’Égypte ancienne”. In Y. Koenig (ed.): La magie en Égypte: à la recherche d’une définition. Actes du colloque organisé par le Musée du Louvre les 29 et 30 septembre 2000. Paris. Pp. 285–299. Ryholt, K., 2009a: “Egyptian Historical Literature from the Greco-Roman Period”. In M. Fitzenreiter (ed.): Das Ereignis. Geschichtsschreibung zwischen Vorfall und Befund. IBAES X. Pp. 231–237. — 2009b: “The Life of Imhotep”. In Actes du IXe Congres International des Etudes Demotiques, Paris, 31 Âoût 3 septembre 2005. Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale. Bibiothèque d’Études 147. Cairo. Pp. 305–315. — 2010: “A Sesostris Story in demotic Egyptian and demotic literary exercise (O. Leipzig UB 2217)”. In H. Knuf / Chr. Leitz / D. von Recklinghausen (eds.): Honni soit qui mal y pense. Studien zum pharaonischen, griechisch-römischen und spätantiken Ägypten zu Ehren von Heinz-Joseph Thissen. Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta 194. Leuven/Paris/Walpole. Pp. 429–437. Sauneron, S., 1965: “Un hymne à Imouthes”. Bulletin de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale 63, 73–87. Schott, S., 1990: Bücher und Bibliotheken im Alten Ägypten. Verzeichnis der Buch- und Spruchtitel und der Termini technici. Wiesbaden. Shupak, N., 1993: Where can Wisdom be found. The Sage’s Language in the Bible and in Ancient Egyptian Literature. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 130. Friburg/ Göttingen. Stadler, M.A., 2004: Isis, das göttliche Kind und die Weltordnung. Neue religiöse Texte aus dem Fayum nach dem Papyrus Wien D. 12006 recto. Mitteilungen aus dem Paprussammlung der Österreichen Nationalbibliothek Papyrus Erzehog Rainer Neue Serie XXIII. Folge. Vienna. — 2009: Weiser und Wesir. Studien zu Vorkommen, Rolle und Wesen des Gottes Thot im ägyptischer Totenbuch. Orientalische Religionen in der Antike I. Tübingen. Stauder, A., 2013: Linguistic Dating of Middle Egyptian Literary Texts. Lingua Aegyptiaca Studia Monographica 12. Hamburg. Tacke, N., 2013: Das Opferritual des ägyptischen Neuen Reiches. Band II: Übersetzung und Kommentar. Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta 222. Leuven. Takamiya, I.H. / Hiroyuki, K. / Sakuji, H., 2011: “Khaemwaset and his monument at North Saqqara: a record of multiple aspects of ‘the first Egyptologist’”. In V.G. Callender / L. Bareš / M. Bárta / J. Janák / J. Krejčí (eds.): Times, signs and pyramids: studies in honour of Miroslav Verner on the occasion of his seventieth birthday. Prague. Pp. 401–421. Toivari-Vittala, J., 2001: Women at Deir el-Medina: A Study on the Status and Roles of the female Inhabitants in the Workmen’s Community during the Ramesside Period. Egyptologische Uitgaven 15. Leiden.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

115

Urk. IV = Helck, W., 1984: Urkunden der 18. Dynastie Texte der Hefte 17–19 Urkunden des ägyptischen Altertums IV. Abt. Urkunden der 18. Dynastie. Berlin. Varille, A., 1968: Inscriptions concernant l’architecte Amenhotep fils de Hapou. Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale Bibliothèque d’Études 44. Cairo. Verhoeven, U., 2009: “Von der ‚Loyalistischen Lehre‘ zur ‚Lehre de Kaïrsu‘”. Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache und Altertumskunde 136, 87–88. Vernus, P., 1985: “Ritual sDm.n.f and some Values of the ‘Accompli’ in the Bible and the Koran”. In S.I. Groll (ed.): Pharaonic Egypt. The Bible and Christianity. Jérusalem. Pp. 307–316. — 1995a: Essai sur la conscience de l’Histoire dans l’Égypte pharaonique. Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études Sciences historiques et philologiques 132. Paris. — 1995b: “La grande mutation idéologique du Nouvel Empire: une nouvelle théorie du pouvoir politique. Du démiurge face à sa création”. Bulletin de la Société d’égyptologie de Genève 19, 69–95. — 1997: “Le vizir et le balancier A propos de l’Enseignement de Ptahhotep”. In C. Berger / B. Mathieu (eds.): Études sur l’Ancien Empire et la nécropole de Saqqâra dédiées à Jean-Philippe Lauer. Orientalia Monspeliensia IX. Montpellier. Pp. 437–443. — 2003: “Lexique et grammaire en égyptien: lexicalisations en substantif préassigné”. In I. Hafemann (ed.): Wege zu einem digitalen Corpus ägyptischer Texte. Akten der Tagung „Datenbanken im Verbund“ (Berlin, 30. September – 2. Oktober 1999). Thesaurus Linguae Aegyptiae 2. Berlin. Pp. 237–276. — 2003a: Affairs and Scandals in Ancient Egypt. Ithaca/London. — 2008: “Khâemouaset et la rétribution des actions”. In L. Gabolde (ed.): Hommages à Jean-Claude Goyon offerts pour son 70e anniversaire. Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale Bibliothèque d’Études 143. Cairo. Pp. 409–415. — 2010: Sagesses de l’Égypte pharaonique, 2nd ed. Paris. — 2010b: “La sagesse d’Aménemopé: philosophie de la traduction”. Orientalia 79, 532–557. — 2010–2011: “‘Littérature’, ‘littéraire’ et supports d’écriture: Contribution à une théorie de la littérature dans l’Égypte pharaonique”. Egyptian and Egyptological Documents, Archives & Librairies 2. 19–145. — 2011a: “Isis et les scorpions: le frémissement du littéraire sous le fatras magique”. In J.P. Montesino (ed.): De Cybèle à Isis. Paris. Pp. 29–37. — 2011b: “Les jachères du démiurge et la souveraineté du pharaon. Sur le concept d’empire”. Revue d’Égyptologie 62, 175–198. — 2012a: “Stratégie d’épure et stratégie d’appogiature dans les productions dites ‘artistiques’ à l’usage des dominants. Le papyrus dit ‘érotique’ de Turin et la mise à distance des dominés”. In K.A. Kothay (ed.): Art and Society. Ancient and modern Contexts of Ancient Egyptian Art. Proceedings of the Interna-

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

116

Pascal Vernus

tional Conference held at the Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest, 13–15 May 2010. Budapest. Pp.109–121. — 2012b: “Le verbe gm(j): essai de sémantique lexicale”. In E. Grossmann / St. Polis / J. Winand (eds.): Lexical Semantics in Ancient Egyptian. Lingua Aegyptia Studia Monographica 9. Hamburg. Pp. 387–438. — 2016a: “L’écrit et la canonicité dans la civilisation pharaonique”. In K. Ryholt / G. Barjamovic (eds.): Problems of Canonicity and Identity Formation in Ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia. CNI Publications 43. Copenhague. Pp 270– 347. — 2016b: “Cachettes dans la civilisation pharaonique: de la trouvaille d’un trésor à Deir el-Médina à la mobilisation de la crypte oubliée dans l’idéologie monarchique”. In L. Coulon (ed.): La cachette de Karnak Nouvelles perspectives sur les découvertes de Georges Legrain. Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale Bibliothèque d’Études 161. Cairo. Pp. 7–19. — 2016c: “Literary exploitation of a craftman’s device: the sandal-maker biting leather (Teaching of Chety, pSallier VIII, 12). When philology, iconography and archaeology overlap”. In G. Miniacci / W. Grajetski (eds.): Middle Kingdom Studies. Contributions on archaeology, art, religion, and written sources. Volume II. London. Pp. 249–255. — forthcoming 1: The origin of authoritative texts according to the Egyptian Ideology. — forthcoming 2: “Autobiography versus biography in the second person and biography in the third person; textual formats, authorship, and apocryphal/ pseudepigraphical works”. In E. Frood / J. Stauder (eds.): Ancient Egyptian Autobiographies. Providence. Vittmann, G., 1995: “Die Autobiographie der Tathotis (Stele Wien 6857)”. Studien zur Altägyptischen Kultur 22, 283–323. Volokhine, Y., 2005: “Reliques et traces en Égypte ancienne. À propos de la présence sur terre d’écrits et d’objets d’origine divine”. In Ph. Borgeaud / Y. Volokhine (eds.): Les objets de la mémoire: pour une approche comparatiste des reliques et leurs cultes. Studia Religiosa Helvetica 10–11. Genova. Pp. 47–72. Warburton, D., 2011: “Darkness at Dawn. Methodology in Egyptological Lexicography”. Lingua Aegyptia 19, 287–320. Weber, M., 1969: Beiträge zur Kenntnis des Schrift- und Buchwesens der alten Ägypter. Inaugural-Dissertation. Cologne. Wegner, J., 2001: “Royal Cults”. In D.B. Redford (ed.): The Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient Egypt Volume 1. Oxford. Pp. 332–336. Wente, E., 1990: Letters from Ancient Egypt. Society of Biblical Literature Writings from the Ancient World 1. Atlanta. Westendorf, W., 1986: “Wissenschaft”. In W. Helck / W. Westendorf (eds.): Lexicon der Ägyptologie Band VI. Wiesbaden. Pp. 1278–1279.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

The Sages/Wisemen in Ancient Egypt

117

Widmer, G., 2002: “Pharaoh Maa-rê, pharaoh Amenemhat and Sesostris: three figures from Egypt’s past as seen in sources of the graeco-roman Period”. In Acts of the Seventh International Conference Studies Copenhagen, 23–27 August 1999. CNI Publications 27. Copenhague. Pp. 377–393. Wildung, D., 1969: Die Rolle ägyptischer Könige im Bewusstsein ihrer Nachwelt I, Teil I: Posthume Quellen über die Könige der ersten vier Dynastien. Münchner Ägyptologische Studien 17. Berlin. — 1977a: Imhotep und Amenhotep. Gottwerdung im alten Ägypten. Münchner Ägyptologische Studien. Munich/Berlin. — 1977b: Egyptian Saints Deification in Pharaonic Egypt. New York. Willems, H., 1994: The Coffin of Heqata (Cairo 36418). A Case Study of Egyptian Funerary Culture of the Early Middle Kingdom. Leiden. — 2015: “Family Life in the Hereafter according to Coffin Texts Spells 131–146 A Study in the Structure of Ancient Egyptian Domestic Groups”. In R. Nord / K. Ryholt (eds.): Lotus and Laurel. Studies on Egyptian Language and Religion in Honour of Paul John Frandsen. CNI Publications 39. Copenhague. Pp. 447–472. Wilson, P., 2010: “Consolidation, Innovation and Renaissance”. In W. Wendrich (ed.): Egyptian Archaeology. Blackwell Studies in Global Archaeology. Oxford. Pp. 253–254. Williams, R.J., 1981: “The Sages of Ancient Egypt in the Light of recent Scholarship”. Journal of the American Oriental Society. 1–19. Witthuhn, O. / Sternberg-el Hotabi, H. / et al., 2015: Die Bentresh-Stele: Ein Quellen- und Lesebuch. Forschungsgeschichte und Perspektiven eines ptolemäerzeitlichen Denkmals aus Theben (Ägypten). Göttingen Miszellen Occasional Studies 2. Göttingen. Wüthrich, A., 2015: Édition synoptique et traduction des chapitres supplémentaires du Livre des Morts 162 à 167. Studien zu altägyptischen Totentexte 19, 2 Vols. Wiesbaden. — 2016: “Livre des morts de Tiba-akhet”. In A. Charron / Chr. Barbotin (eds.): Savoir et pouvoir à l’époque de Ramsès II Khâemouaset le prince archéologue. Arles. Pp. 294–295.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud Considerations Informed by Social Memory and Current Cross- and Trans-disciplinary Trends in the Study of Wisdom Ehud Ben Zvi

I. General considerations 1. Introductory comments The focus of this essay is on ‘wise-women’,1 but just as is the case with all gendered social constructions, ‘gendered appropriate’ ‘wise-women’ cannot be understood without reference to ‘gendered appropriate’ ‘wise-men’. Moreover, for reasons that will become clear, the emphasis will be on ‘wise-women’ of memory and on patterns of difference (and similarity) between constructions of wisewomen and wise-men along with a few observations about their implications. Three basic, uncontentious considerations serve as the starting point of this contribution: (a) studies about sages in the Hebrew Bible, whether male or female, cannot but be rooted in some (explicit or implicit) concept of ‘sage’ and of ‘Hebrew Bible’, (b) examinations of the meaning of a concept within a particular collection of textual sources are not a-historical endeavours, because different groups read the collection in diverse ways and construe different worlds of knowledge through their readings, (c) all social memories of characters of old are historically contingent and so are gendered constructions. It is thus appropriate to address these matters explicitly and from the outset. Here, and for the present purposes, I have chosen to deal with ancient constructions of what being/acting/ performing the roles of a ‘sage’, or in other words, what ‘sagehood’ might have consisted of within the world evoked by reading the texts of a core repertoire of books that existed in late Persian/early Hellenistic period Judah/Yehud and for which the Hebrew Bible with some significant exceptions (e.g., Daniel, Esther) may serve as an approximate representation. Obviously, this is not necessarily the only possible choice, but it is one of several potential appropriate choices for this volume (and for the original workshop) as it sets the present contribution within the context of the cluster of contributions about the (historical) ancient Near East (including ancient Mesopotamia, Egypt

1

When I was invited to talk about ‘female and male sages in the Hebrew Bible’, I thought it would be appropriate that female wise-women be at the front and centre of my contribution, both given the nature of the workshop and the relative dearth of studies on them, and particularly compared to the relative wealth of studies on ‘the (male) sages’. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

120

Ehud Ben Zvi

and the Levant),2 and rearticulates the term Hebrew Bible so as to avoid an obvious anachronism. The English word ‘sage’ in the title of this contribution stands for biblical Hebrew ‫ חכם‬or ‫חכמה‬, whether the latter is used as a noun or an adjective.3 In fact, in all of the instances in which ‘sage’ is used in common English translations of the HB/OT, it stands for biblical Hebrew ‫ חכם‬or ‫חכמה‬. To be sure, for reasons that have to do with English word preferences, sage is a strongly dis-preferred translational option for ‫ חכם‬or ‫חכמה‬, 4 but exchanging ‘wise’ for ‘sage’, would not change the picture in any essential way. In other words, I use the term ‘sage’ or ‘wise’ because English is the shared language of our workshop, but when discussing the HB, we are really talking about ‫ חכם‬or ‫חכמה‬, whether as a noun or adjective. If we narrow the study of ‘sages’ (female or male) in this context to individuals referred explicitly to as ‫ חכם‬or ‫ חכמה‬in this literary repertoire, it is easy to notice that it contains very few explicit references to female characters as ‫חכמה‬, again whether as a noun or an adjective. In fact, at the most there are six instances in the entire HB in contrast with well over 100 references to males, again whether as an adjective or a noun.5

2

While acknowledging the problematic character of the term ‘near East’ and the debates about which peoples, cultures, societies and polities it encompasses, I am using the term here only for practical, pragmatic reasons. 3 On the issue of ‘noun or adjective’ see note 5. 4 The NRSV uses the word “sages” only in Isa 19:11, 12; Jer 50:35; 51:57; Job 15:18 and Esther 1:13, for a total of six occurrences in the NRSV OT – the singular form “sage” is not attested in the NRSV; “sages” occurs in the NJPSV only in Isa 19:12, 12; 44:25; Prov 22:17, 24:23 and Esther 1:13 and “sage” appears in Qoh 8:17 and 12:29, for a total of eight occurrences of the term in the entire translation; averaging between the two stands the NAB (2011 edition) in which the term appears seven times, though this time, in Gen 41:8; Jer 50:35; 51:57; Ezek 27:8, 9; Prov 11:30 (“sage”) and Esther 1:13. 5 ‫( חכם‬masc. and sg.) is explicitly used as a noun 56 times and 22 times as an adjective. To be sure, not all the cases refer to an actual or potential wise man (e.g., in Deut 4:6 in which the [potential] referent is an entire people; and in Hos 13:13 is Ephraim/Israel and ‘he’ is unwise; see also Deut 32:6), but still the majority of them does. The first man who was explicitly characterized as ‫ חכם‬in the HB, and thus in the world of memory reflected and shaped by it was Joseph (Gen 41:43), whereas Solomon was construed and remembered as the wisest possible man and Daniel was construed and remembered as the main figure occupying the slot of the global mythological great wise man from ‘ancient times’ (see Ezek 28:3). ‫ חכם‬in the ms. and pl. appears as a noun 52 times and interestingly as an adjective only twice (Deut 1:13, 15). In any event, although grammatically all these plural masculine forms may at least in theory include women, in the immense majority of the cases, they refer to males. (The numbers and grammatical identifications follow the Andersen-Forbes biblical database; although there exist other databases, concerning these matters, minor differences among these databases would be of no relevance to the point © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

121

This observation draws attention to that which is obvious to any historian today, namely the androcentric character of the HB and the books included in it – after all they were written – at the very least, mainly – by males and for males. At the same time, it strongly suggests that rooting our study on a relatively narrow ‘semantic’ or lexicographic approach, namely focusing it on those personages explicitly characterized as ‫ חכם‬or ‫ חכמה‬does not carry much promise for studying sages, male and female, within the core, authoritative repertoire of texts among the mentioned literati. Nor does it provide an opportunity for any substantial comparative study of male and female sages existing in the mnemonic landscape of this group of readers, nor for research on the implications of the ways in which some significant features are distributed among, and associated with male or female sages for understanding the social mindscape of these literati, including their constructions of gender. But we do not have to and, in fact, we should not narrow the focus on those explicitly referred to as ‫ חכם‬or ‫חכמה‬, because many personages of the past were characterized as such without being explicitly referred to by the terms ‫ חכם‬or ‫חכמה‬. This being so, the question arises: who was a ‘sage’ and what a ‘sage’ had to do to be considered a ‘sage’ within this context? 2. A common approach to who is a ‘sage’ and its limitations for the present purposes Two main approaches for answering this question are available. The first one is informed by class social theory and through its lenses the ‘sages’ are viewed as persons who belong to a particular social class or group (depending on the terminology of the relevant researcher). Thus, for instance, it has been proposed that the sages were members of a particular, professional, class or group that consisted of counselors, top administrators, writers, teachers, judges, scribes and similar figures. At times, slightly different and more restrictive formulations have also been advanced and then the sages are considered to be the very elite among the scribes and among whom one finds individuals (and at times families6) that serve important administrative and political roles (e.g., Shaphan, the secretary [‫]הספר‬, advanced here.) In contrast ‫ ֲחכָמָ ה‬appears only three times (Exod 35:25 [noun]; 2 Sam 14:2; 20:16 [both adjectives]). One may add to these three references, the one to wise women (in plural) in Jer 9:16 [noun] and two instances (Judg 5:29; Prov 14:1) in which the referent is a wise woman or women in which the MT term ‫ חַ כְ מוֹת‬stands probably for an original ḥokmot i.e., ‘wisdom’ – this is especially true for Prov 14:1. If so, this would be a representative instance of an “abstract-for-concrete metonymy” that communicated in one case the meaning of ‘a wise woman’ (Prov 14:1) and in the other, “wise princesses”; alternatively (i.e., keeping the MT) the respective texts would be properly translated as, e.g., “the wise ones (fem.) of women” and “the wisest of her princesses.” (On these matters, see Fox, 2009: 572). 6 E.g., the family of Shaphan or that of Neria, both of which are associated with Jeremiah. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

122

Ehud Ben Zvi

see also 2 Kgs 25:19 [again ‫)]הספר‬.7 Debates within this general approach have usually hinged on, for instance, whether the sages as a class/group were part and parcel of the upper or aristocratic class or well-to-do bourgeoisie, or were just a retainer class at the service of those with real power and which fulfilled that role either wholeheartedly or only with discomfort and reservations.8 Whatever version of this general approach one takes, some of its core assumptions and implications are particularly noteworthy for the present purposes: First, these sages were, by definition, a highly educated class and thus the ‘product’ of some formal higher education school for the (relatively) few that had to be associated in some way or another with some central institution in their society. Second, although in the historical Iron Age kingdoms of the Southern Levant there might well have been some female scribes, particularly if female figures in the royal court had substantial economic and social power,9 nevertheless within the context of an ancient Israel reconstructed in the main on the basis of ‘biblical’ texts and particularly given the areas and spheres of life that these texts emphasized, the sages or scribes, for that matter, can only be overwhelmingly male. Thus, for instances, explicit references to scribes (e.g., 2 Sam 8:17, 20:25; 1 Kgs 4:3; 2 Kgs 12:11; 18:18, 37; 19:2; 22:3, 8–12; Jer 36:10, 12; 26; 37:15; 1 Chr 24:6),10 to particularly renown sages (e.g., Ethan the Ezrahite, and Heman, Calcol and Darda, children of Mahol; see 1 Kgs 5:11 [many ET 4:31]), to teachers of tôrâ (e.g. 2 Chr 17:7–9), or to those appointed to administer justice (e.g., Exod 18:25–26; 2 Chr 19:8–10), all point overwhelmingly to males. Given that not many women, if any at all, were to serve in either the role of a Shaphan or Baruch and so on, and given that although individual exceptions can always exist, a gendered division of labour goes hand in hand transculturally with a corresponding gendered division of education, 11 an unavoidable conclusion would emerge, namely that it is unlikely that many women were institutionally trained to serve in such roles for any substantial period of time, which brings to mind the previous 7

See, e.g., Dell, 2008: 130; cf. Perdue, 2008: 4. For a review of the field, see Sneed, 1994: 651–672. For more on these approaches see below. 9 Cf., e.g., Meier, 1991: 540–547. 10 ‫ סֹ פ ֶֶרת‬in Ezra 2:55 and Neh 7:57 is probably not a reference to a female ‘scribe’ or ‘secretary’, but a noun in the same nominal patterns as ‫קֹ הֶ לֶת‬, a noun whose reference is obviously a male. (The variance concerning the presence or absence of ‫ ה‬before the noun in Ezra 2:55 and Neh 7:57 may not be so significant and cf. Qoh 12:8 and see Qoh 12:9– 10 and several other times in Qoh. (e.g., 1:1, 2, 12). 11 To bring a comparison from a not too far past, how many women would study medicine at a time in which women could not be physicians? Or train at military academies? Or even at schools preparing people for the highest level of civil service? Or for that matter, in many countries, how many people from the ‘wrong’ background studied(/dy?) at exclusive schools out of which many of its future leaders were(/are?) likely to emerge? 8

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

123

observation about the role of education (and socializing, and thus, also gendering) systems. Third, this approach and the world it construes may well reflect, to a significant extent, the historical situation in ancient Israel in relation to the mentioned areas and spheres of activity, but if so, given that (a) the sages were socialized/ educated in ways supported by the polity or some of its central institutions (directly or indirectly), and (b) the social-political tasks associated with these sages, one can hardly assume that the world of these sages, in terms of identity, ideology and practical social roles would not have been deeply affected by drastic changes in their polity and society and the accompanying social and cultural changes. For instance, there cannot be any doubt that the sages of monarchic Israel/Judah were substantially different in terms of social roles, occupations, and thus general knowledge, and ideology from those of the early Second Temple period. That said, it is particularly worth stressing that despite all the social, political, administrative, cultural and economic differences between monarchic Judah and late Persian/early Hellenistic Yehud and between their respective sages and their roles, and their respective ideologies and even among the social institutions that supported them and their higher education, there is no reason to assume that there was any substantial difference in terms of gender distribution among members of the professional class of ‘sages’ between Persian Yehud and monarchic Judah. After all, whether sages were and worked like the monarchic period Shaphan, helped muster the army,12 or were among the literati of the late Persian / Early Hellenistic period – about whom Diana Edelman, myself and others have extensively written – or were figures reminiscent of personages such as Baruch, Ezra or Qohelet, or were associated, for that matter, with the most common human voices that resonate time and again in Proverbs, still these sages would be overwhelmingly male.13 To be sure, continuity in these matters had to be expected, since social and ideological grammars of gender and the hierarchies that go along with them were not necessarily dependent on the type of differences between these two Judahs (e.g., royal court vs. tôrâ and temple oriented; separate even if vassal polity vs. province subordinate to a satrap, and so on). The royal administration of the monarchic period was imagined and remembered as being run by men. The same holds true for the teachers of tôrâ who became so central in the later tôrâ-centred community (at least as constituted in the imagination of the literati), and for all the prophets who were worthy of being remembered within the mnemonic world construed by the books in the Prophetic Book Collection (Isaiah-Malachi). Since such dramatic changes in the life of the polity and thus in the constitution and roles of the sages result in no substantial difference within the basic paradigm 12

2 Kgs 18:19. At least according to the testimony of the androcentric literature of the period, which provides the only existing data in any event. 13

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

124

Ehud Ben Zvi

of approaches informed by social class theory, as applied to the present matters, how really helpful would this paradigm be for our particular purposes here? What kind of really new insights, beyond the already known and taken almost for granted, would it likely provide? In addition, one has to keep in mind that the most significantly distinctive contributions of research about Judah or Yehud concerning these issues – and thus to the original Melammu workshop and a volume such as this one – are less likely to be grounded on general considerations of social class theory and common patriarchal gender constructions than on an analysis of its particular, distinctive material, namely the repertoire of texts and what did it ‘do’ to the literati who read them and constructed their past accordingly. To be sure, none of this means that the former is irrelevant nor that the conclusions that the latter may reach have no bearing on other cultures; instead, it means that the main pragmatic contribution of a case study to a general discussion is likely to emerge out of some of the individual aspects of the relevant case, and in the case of the literati of the late Persian/early Hellenistic Yehud, this would be its textual repertoire and the worldviews that it reflected and shaped. If the focus is on this repertoire, it is clear that the sages of old, male and female, within the world of memory of these literati stand as individual instantiations of the conceptual realm that they associated with ‫חכם‬/‫חכמה‬, both as noun and adjective, was certainly not restricted to the professional class mentioned above. Within the world of ideas and memories of these literati, a character had, explicitly or implicitly, to be construed and remembered as a personage who possessed ‫‘ חכמה‬wisdom’ to be considered ‫ חכם‬or ‫חכמה‬. Some of these, to be sure, seem to participate in the mentioned professional class/group (e.g., Jer 50:35; 51:57; Ob 8). Others may be identified more broadly and perhaps are to be more safely understood as individuals or groups, of particular socio-economic status, who participated in an intellectual tradition usually associated with Wisdom (see, e.g., Prov 1:6; 22:17; Qoh 9:17; 12:11).14 But the relevant literati, themselves agents in this project, when they construed through their readings of their repertoire a semantic realm of wise/‫ חכם‬included in this realm not only members of the mentioned professional class or, for that matter, all those who explicitly identified themselves with the mentioned intellectual tradition, but also skillful artisans (e.g., Exod 28:3; 31:6; Jer 10:9; Isa 40:20; 1 Chr 22:15; 2 Chr 2: 6, 12, 14), skillful practitioners of divination (e.g., Exod 7:11; Isa 44:25), women who were professional and skillful mourners (see Jer 9:16), skillful plotters for devious causes (e.g., such as planning the rape of Tamar, see 2 Sam 13:3), or just people skillful to do evil (Jer 4:22), as well as pious people who follow YHWH’s ways and tôrâ (Ps 107:43; Prov 1:5; Job 15:2; Qoh 7:19; 2 Chr 2:11). Significantly, YHWH may be portrayed as ‫( חכם‬see Isa 31:2), but also 14

See Whybray, 1974 and which is followed, to some extent, by Grabbe, 1993: 43–62 and Grabbe, 1995. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

125

animals such as ants, badgers, locusts and lizards (Prov 30:24–28). Of course, all this variety of potential ‫חכמים‬/wise people existed because all of them could be imagined as possessing (some form of) wisdom (‫)חכמה‬, which is another way to say there was a very wide and flexible conceptual realm of wisdom (‫ )חכמה‬within the community of readers and in their literature. To be sure, some would like to restrict this flexibility as much as possible via diachronic15 or grammatical16 analyses of the occurrences of the term ‫‘ חכם‬wise’, or by organizing the set of data about these occurrences in literary silos (e.g., Qohelet, particular units in Proverbs, pericopes in the Deuteronomic Historical Collection or Jeremiah, or individual ‘wisdom-related’ Psalms such as Ps 19). Tendencies to reduce that flexibility encounter a systemic problem when the focus turns to the literati of the late Persian/early Hellenistic period who were socialized by reading all these

15 A relatively common diachronic narrative concerning ‘Wisdom’ in ancient Israel maintains that the heyday of the sages, in the sense of higher level scribes well embedded in the mentioned intellectual tradition, was during the monarchic period, when they served the king and the latter supported a kind of royal wisdom school. Within this approach, most of the book of Proverbs (though not Prov 1–9) came from that period and many references to scribes in the DHC (Deuteronomistic Historical Collection) and PBC (Prophetic Books Collection) point to this group. The sages of the Persian/early Hellenistic period, however, and who are included in what I refer to as the literati of the period not only had different social-political roles, but also did not properly belong to nor were educated in this ‘classical’ intellectual tradition. Moreover, as time passed, the very contents of ‘wisdom’ changed, as specialists of hidden knowledge and of dreams were increasingly considered sages. Moreover, the pre-existing, monarchic period ‘intellectual tradition’ became at some point intertwined, at least to some extent, in this period with tôrâ. 16 E.g., “[t]he adjective, wise (‫)חכם‬, refers to anyone who possesses a particular skill or specialized knowledge, including, for example, artisans and scribes. The noun, sage (‫)חכם‬, often defines a specialized class of scribes…” Perdue, 2008: 4. Not only does the ‘often’ already suggests many exceptions, but also much depends on how one distinguishes between an adjective and a noun. If one takes a formal, grammatical viewpoint to minimize circular thinking, the mentioned pattern is not clearly discernible. For instance, according to the well-respected Andersen-Forbes (hereafter AF, database), ‫ חכם‬is a noun in e.g., Exod 31:6; 35:10; 36:1, 2, 8; Isa 3:3; 40:20; 1 Chr 22:15 but in all these cases it refers to skillful people. Conversely, the only occurrences of ‫ חכמים‬as unequivocally adjective are in Deut 1:13, 15 and the references are to ‘wise’ rather than ‘skillful’, and ‫ חכם‬as an adjective is far more often associated with ‘wise’ (e.g., Deut 4:6; 32:6; 1 Kgs 2:9; 3:12; 5:21; Jer 9:11; Job 34:34; Prov 10:1; 13:1; 15:20; 16:14; 20:26; 24:5; 25:12; 26:12; 29:9; Qoh 4:13; 9:15; 2 Chr 2:11) than ‘skillful’ (according to AF, only 2 Chr 2:6, 12). To be sure, AF is not the only grammatically marked database of the Hebrew Bible and other respected databases may disagree with it and one may continue a debate on how we differentiate a formal adjective from a formal noun in biblical Hebrew, but the real issue is whether the literati who read the texts would have read the text informed by our debates on the matter, taken one side on it and thus recognized Perdue’s proposed pattern and its exceptions. I think that this is very unlikely.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

126

Ehud Ben Zvi

texts, and thus whose world of knowledge, imagination, memory and their social, linguistic and ideological expectations were shaped by reading their core repertoire of authoritative texts. Supposed silos then could not but interact with each other and inform one another, and all together shaped the mental landscape of the group. To some extent, tendencies to reduce flexibility emerge out of an underlying position that if the conceptual realm for wisdom was so flexible, then it loses all meaning. My own position is quite the opposite that there was much meaning in that flexibility and fuzziness, which in many ways permeated the entire social mindscape of these literati. Moreover, historical societies and social groups within them have discussed for centuries, and continue to discuss today, what constitutes ‘wisdom’ and who is or is not ‘wise’ and why.17 From a wide comparative historical perspective, one may say that it was only to be anticipated that the Yehudite literati would explore and hold a very wide range of meanings associated with or attributed to wisdom and concerning the question of who was/is ‘wise’ and why? 3. A second approach in conversation with memory studies and (cross-cultural) current studies on wisdom and focusing on implied social constructions of what a wise-woman does/is Thus we have come back to the original question, namely who was a ‘sage’ and what a ‘sage’ had to do to be considered a ‘sage’, but this time having in mind the heuristic need for an additional approach that may shed more light on the questions that stand at the centre of the original workshop and the ensuing volume. In what follows, I will explore what an approach informed by the entire core repertoire of the literati and particularly dedicated to the memories that reading and rereading such repertoire within their world of knowledge and social mindscape may contribute to these matters. In particular, I will focus on some of the constructed memories of those women who the literati considered to be and remembered as ‘wise-women’, the implied concepts of wisdom that they expressed through these constructions of wise-women of old and the flexible and fuzzy character of the corresponding conceptual realm of ‘wisdom’.18 It is particularly worth stressing that this approach is to a significant degree consonant with and able to engage, at least at the heuristic level, with general current cross- and trans-disciplinary trends in the study of wisdom and matters of gender and wisdom in mainly contemporary (but relevant not only to contemporary) societies.19 17

See, e.g., Curnow, 2014. This contribution discusses these ‘women of memory’, not constructions of Wisdom or better Lady Wisdom as a female who attracts males and invests them with male wisdom. Although the two are at times related, the latter matters require a separate discussion. 19 For current main positions and debates on these issues, see e.g., Baltes/Staudinger, 2000: 18

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

127

For instance, one may mention current debates about implicit and explicit theories of wisdom, with some emphasis in the last twenty years on ‘implicit’ theories. The work proposed here is to an extent an extension of such an approach, as it deals with the implied ways in which the literati thought about wisdom in general, and about female gendered wisdom, if different from ‘unmarked’, ‘default’, male wisdom.20 There is also the matter of current debates about whether wisdom is best approached in terms of ‘expert knowledge’ or of ‘wise persons’ and ‘personality’ or some combination of ‘personality characteristics’. If the former, then one must posit a central collective corpus of social knowledge and related skills that exists outside any single person (e.g., the Wisdom tradition, Tôrâ, Tôrâ as Wisdom, etc.). If the latter, then wisdom is essentially embodied and cannot exist independently of individuals and therefore, ‘wisdom’ cannot fully reside in a text – no matter how important it might be for the community. This type of debate directly relates to and emerges naturally when the focus of one’s research is on particular memories of wise-women among the literati.21 One may also mention studies that have demonstrated that implied concepts of wisdom are both dependent on the social mindscape of a particular group22 and at the same time show clear, general cross-cultural tendencies. As for the latter, one may mention tendencies in current research to associate (cross-culturally) wisdom with, inter alia, problem solving, conflict resolution, cognitive complexity, contextualism, recognition of multiple perspectives and uncertainty tolerance, which in turn are consistent with a tendency towards allowing flexibility and even fuzziness (see the case of our literati and discussion above). The study of implicit concepts of female wisdom and wisdom that existed among the literati of the period shows many of these associations, while at the same time, belongs clearly to 122–136. Ardelt, 2004a: 257–285; Baltes/Kunzmann, 2004: 290–299; Sternberg, 2004: 286–289; Achenbaum, 2004: 300–303; Ardelt, 2004b: 304–307, Aldwin, 2009: 1–8; Ardelt, 2009: 9–26; Glück/Strasser/Bluck, 2009: 27–44; Levenson, 2009: 45–59 and cited bibliography. See also Denny/Dew/Kroupa, 1995: 37–47; Wink/Helson, 1997: 1–15; Chen/Cheng/Wu/Hsueh, 2014: 425–433; Rasul, 2015: 53–62. A secondary goal of this contribution is to open doors for further engagement of scholars of ancient Israelite wisdom with current cross- and trans-cultural research on wisdom and vice versa. This engagement may provide particularly productive paths for gendered studies of wisdom in ancient societies such as that of late Persian/early Hellenistic Yehud. 20 In general, explicit theories of wisdom deal with definitions of wisdom proposed by scholars, whereas implicit theories deal the implied concept of wisdom that exist among ‘laypeople’ in a given society. 21 See in particular the current debates between the Max Planck Institute Berlin Group (including Baltes and other central figures) and Ardelt and her colleagues. See bibliography in note 19. 22 In addition to previously cited bibliography, see, e.g., Takahashi/Bordia, 2000: 1–9. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

128

Ehud Ben Zvi

a particular, and male group (i.e., the literati who construed and remembered these wise-women as they read and reread their authoritative textual repertoire). Further, the usual reference to wisdom in contemporary interdisciplinary research as associated with “pragmatic reasoning to navigate important challenges in social life” relates directly and explicitly to some characterizations of wisewomen within the memory-scape of the literati, and so is the case with “concern with conflict resolution,” as it will be shown below.23 In addition, it goes without saying that transculturally there is often some form of relationship between (implicit) conceptualizations of moral and social good, as understood by each particular society/group, and that which the same society/ group considered to be wisdom. In the case of the literati on which the focus of this paper resides, these considerations directly relate to matters of interaction and interweaving of concepts of t/Tôrâ and Wisdom already in the late Persian/early Hellenistic period,24 and raise even the issue of multiple and complementary constructions of the concept of t/Tôrâ. Finally, cross-culturally, the prototype of the wise (older) man is more prevalent than that of the wise woman,25 and thus the scarcity of references to wisewomen as prototypes in the repertoire discussed here is not anomalous. The fact that the historical and prophetic book collection deal in the main with ‘Israel’ and how to use ‘wise-reasoning’ to solve large group problems rather than those of ‘individual homes’ only strengthened this tendency, given gendered constructions of the past among the relevant literati, and not quite common in antiquity – and not only in antiquity. Issues associated with gendered distribution of learning contributed to the same tendency, in books such as Proverbs. Yet, it is particularly against this background that the existenc of some memories of wise women seem to be even more important for historical research about implied concepts of wisdom. In what follows I will present some examples of the sites of memory associated with wise-women. The point here is not to explore each site of memory in any substantial detail – each case requires a separate essay – but to demonstrate a proof of concept for the approach outlined here and stimulate further studies on the matter. The result cannot but be a preliminary exploration of the potential of this approach for historians of the period. This said, even its preliminary observations will contribute in the search of a better understanding of the roles of human female sages of memory among the male literati, and indirectly about their wisdom and gender project, for after all, they were involved in furthering the establishment of a particular world, as socializing and culture-creating agents most often are.

23

Citations from the survey introduction in Grossmann et al., 2012: 1059. On these issues, and from various perspectives, see the many contributions in Schipper/Teeter, 2014. 25 Orwoll/Perlmutter, 1990: 160–177; Ardelt, 2009: 10. 24

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

129

II. Exploring illustrative examples of memories of female sages in the mnemonic world of male sages of the late Persian / Early Hellenistic period and their implications 1. A central example: Remembering the wise-woman of Abel (2 Sam 20:14–21) The background of the story26 is the siege of the city of Abel. A leader who rebelled against David and who is partially construed as both a failed prototype of the successful Jeroboam (see 2 Sam 20:1 and cf. 1 Kgs 12:16)27 and somewhat of a fleeting transitional figure between Saul and Jeroboam (Sheba is associated with Benjamin; see 2 Sam 20:1 – like Saul – and with Ephraim; see 2 Sam 20:21 – like Jeroboam) has entered the city with his supporters and fortified within it. Joab places a siege on the city and as he does, the setting is established to activate, a set of scenes within the memory-scape of the literati associated with the image of the besieging army by the wall (see the case of the Abimelech at Thebez, the siege of Rabbah, the siege of Jerusalem by Sennacherib).28 For the present purposes, the key point is that a wise-woman29 was remembered as having the practical wisdom necessary to save the city. She contacts the leader of the besieging army and reaches with him a solution to the problem: the head of the rebel will be thrown over the wall and Joab will then leave the place. A full city facing sure destruction is saved, because she knows how to wisely and persuasively reason with Joab and (implicitly) the population/leaders of her own city.30 To be sure, her story is one instantiation of common (and very gendered) narratives about women raising to the challenge when men fail to do so and the situation is critical (cf. Judith). But the crucial point for the present purposes is that here this woman was remembered as using her wisdom to solve the conflict. She leads by wisdom and utterances of her mouth. Her weapon, as it were, is her tongue.31 Wisdom here is certainly understood as a personal attribute of her, but depending on how ‫( בְּ חָ כְ מָ תָ הּ‬e.g., “in her wisdom” or “with her wise plan” or both) in v. 22 is understood it may also and simultaneously be understood as something that although associated with her, still stands outside her, namely the outcome of her 26

For obvious reasons, I restrict my comments on this story to matters directly relevant to the present purposes. On this story and from a variety of approaches and perspectives, see, e.g., Gordon, 1993: 215–226 – whether one follows his proposed reading or not does not have a substantial bearing on the matters discussed here; Geyer, 1986: 33–42, in addition to other bibliography mentioned here. 27 See, e.g., Campbell, 2005: 168. 28 Cf. Shalom-Guy, 2010: 419–432. 29 Explicitly referred as such see v. 16; cf. v. 22. 30 For the argument that she is also a direct political leader in the town, see Frymer-Kensky, 2002: 58–63; cf. Camp, 1981: 14–29 and republished in Bach, 1999: 195–207. 31 Note that she is not remembered as decapitating Sheba (contrast with Judith, for instance). She is a female-sage whose weapon is her tongue not a female-warrior. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

130

Ehud Ben Zvi

wisdom. The wisdom of this woman in terms of personal attributes included negotiating skills and flexible thinking that touched, implicitly, on what we would call today moral decision making, i.e., should one person, who is under the protection of the city be sacrificed, to save the city32? She also shows an ability to fully understand and manipulate Joab’s perspective so as to achieve conflict resolution and maximize the potential outcome for city. It is in this context that her use of language is particularly relevant. As remembered by the readers, this wise-woman construes the city as ‫‘ ַנ ֲחלַת יהוה‬YHWH’s inheritance’ and thus destroying it as a transgression against YHWH. By doing so, she activates the ‘moral’ discourse of Joab (and the literati) and their memories of YHWH’s deeds against transgressors. Moreover, the woman uses affective associations of city and in-group motherhood. Given this association of the city with in-group motherhood, it is worth noting that within the world of the literati, her reference to ‫ ַנ ֲחלַת יהוה‬may have evoked not only a spatial sense of country but also an image of YHWH’s progeny. Are the ‘sons’ of the mother city, that is, the inhabitants of the city YHWH’s inheritance (cf. Ps 127:3), and is Joab actually threatening YHWH’s children? Three additional observations follow: (a) As the literati remembered the wisdom of this wise-woman, it did not explicitly include any direct reference to tôrâ in the narrow sense of the Pentateuch or its laws, even if the latter could have been made.33 This said, her wisdom made a strong appeal to (Yehudite) tôrâ in a wider sense, that is, the wide ‘sea’ of what was construed and accepted as authoritative divine teaching in Yehud. I will return to these matters. (b) The wisdom of the wise woman is situational. The implicit concept of wisdom at work here is not only situational, but also directly related to a source external to the person of the wise-person. For instance, if someone would have been remembered as having similarly recommended that Hezekiah’s head be sent over the wall to the Assyrian counterpart of Joab so as to avert the destruction of 32

It is worth noting that much later than the period discussed here, the story of the wise woman of Abel is attested as a (and at times, ‘the’) central place to explore these matters. See y. Ter. 8.4, 46d; Gen. Rab. 94:9; Lev. Rab. 19.6; Qoh. Rab. 9.28. For constructions of the importance and wisdom of this wise woman in rabbinic literature, see also Tanḥ. (Buber) Wayyera 12 (ET, 4,12 in Townsend, 1989: 99–100) and the rabbinic figure/site of memory of Serah (‫ )שֶׂ ַרח‬bat Asher, see, e.g., Bronner, 1994: 42–60, esp. 52–53. 33 The issue is resolved in the Targum, which reads in 20:10 “Remember now what is written in the Book of the Torah (‫ בִ ספַר אֹ ָוריתָ א‬and in some versions, ‫ )בספר אֹ וריתא דמשה‬to inquire in this city long ago, saying: ‘Was it not here for you to inquire in Abel, if they are at peace” (cf. Deut 20:10). In the Targum, the wise-woman was obviously, but also remarkably imagined as tôrâ-learned woman. See also Tanḥ. Wayyera, 4.12 and the construction of Serah bat Asher in rabbinic (and later) lore. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

131

Jerusalem at the hands of Sennacherib, such a person would not have been remembered as wise, but as foolish and sinful. Thus to be wise meant also to accept the main ideological tenets of the remembering community and stories such as those of the wise woman of Abel exemplify the point. By providing a memorable story, it serves to further socialize the community along its main ideological tenets, including its deeply related constructions of that which is moral and socially good. Significantly, in this case, the memory of a woman who was characterized as a Northerner played a role in what was a contested matter between Samaria and Yehud,34 and her location in a Northern city is no coincidence.35 In terms of implicit constructions of wisdom, just as much as wisdom is construed as personal and personalized in the person of this wise woman, it is also construed as strongly dependent on a corpus of socially accepted ideology and mnemonic narratives that are external to her. (c) The topos of a wise person who saves a city by means of her/his tongue does not require a female sage (see Qoh 9:14–15). Male sages can do the same but this said, her being a female is an integral and important part of the story and aligns this woman with other wise-women (see below) and with a series of sites of memory involving scenes at the wall of a besieged city involving women in various roles (combatant, sage, reason for a crime).36 The affective use of the reference to mother (city), father (YHWH) and children (the city population) is by no means restricted to female voices in the HB (see Isaiah). This said, this wise woman through her words protected the city population, and it is possible that at some level – perhaps not even deliberately and thus even more importantly for the study of implied generative mnemonic grammars – the common image of the mother as protector of her children37 may have resonated with that of her ‘female’ protection of the city. Significantly, the protector mother was often remembered as able to resolve the danger to her offspring through words whose outcome involves action (or refraining from action) by some male agent (e.g., Sarah, Hagar, Rebekah, Bath-Sheba, the Shunammite woman). Yet, one may assume that the same holds true for instances in which a male sage saves a city through his wisdom (see Qoh 9:14–15 and notice the emphatic reference to the power differential between the actors). In either case, the issue concerns with a hierarchy of power (Joab, the king, the patriarch), but also and even more importantly, with how those without that (external) power may successfully operate within and through this hierarchy to achieve their goal, because of their wisdom. Given the historical 34

David and the Davidic dynasty were most likely remembered very differently in Samaria than in Jerusalem during the Persian period. 35 Cf. with some of the communicative roles of the memory of the prophet Hosea. See Ben Zvi, 2015a: 37–57. 36 Cf., among others, Shalom-Guy, 2010. 37 Both as cities, and as human mothers of memory (e.g., Sarah, Rebekah, the Shunammite woman). © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

132

Ehud Ben Zvi

situation of the male literati who were certainly without much ‘external’ power, these considerations are far from irrelevant. Moreover, given traditional constructions of masculinity that associate it with power and hierarchy, there is room to explore what this may say about wisdom, and in which ways it may work differently in constructions of female sages and of male sages, such as the literati themselves, who might have deployed it so as to shape their own sense of masculinity and (hidden) power.38 2. A similarly remembered wise-woman: Abigail (1 Sam 25:2–42) and additional considerations, constructions and evocative echoes of the Rahab of memory Although Abigail is not explicitly referred to as ‫‘ ִאשָּׁ ה ֲחכָמָ ה‬wise-woman’, her ‫טַ ﬠַם‬ ‘discernment’, ‘good sense’ is explicitly much praised (v. 33).39 Moreover, much like the wise woman of Abel, her intervention, through the words of her mouth and her wisdom, saves her social group, which in this case is her large household, which pragmatically is now reconfigured as the house of Abigail. As in the case of the wise woman of Abel, this discerning woman was remembered as a person whose wisdom allowed her to appropriately contextualize and thus to correctly reject the categorical value of some common social obligations in a crucial instance. Whereas, the literati imagined the woman of Abel as able to evaluate the relative standing of obligations of hospitality, protection and likely social-political ties; Abigail was remembered as appropriately contextualizing and correctly forsaking her loyalty to her husband, Nabal, a point that at least from the perspective of the male literati might have been considered more potentially dangerous and was eventually tamed. I will return to the latter point, but before that, it is worth stressing that in both cases, from the perspective of the literati, evoking the memory of these two women meant that to be wise was to show a discerning, proper contextual evaluation of social obligations, and accordingly an implicit concept of wisdom had to be rooted, on a basic rule: taking the proper ideological position (in this case, concerning David and the Davidic dynasty) trumps other common social obligations. Many obligations are included in what is construed by the relevant society as morally right, but the story shows that the community also shaped a hierarchy among them, and wisdom, as implicitly construed by this group, cannot exist 38

An exploration of these matters requires a separate discussion. Elsewhere I wrote about a strong tendency to dis-prefer ‘warrior’ elements in the construction of central sites of memory for the community, such as Moses and Abraham and in some aspects of the construction of David. See Ben Zvi, 2013b: 335–364; Ben Zvi, 2013c: 3–37; Ben Zvi, 2014: 413–437 and bibliography. For a similar discussion of the Joshua that existed in the memory-scape of these literati, see Ben Zvi, forthcoming 2019. 39 ‫ טַ ﬠַם‬in this sense, which overlaps to some extent with the conceptual realm of ‘wisdom’ see also Ps 119:66 (cf. Isa 33:6; Prov 30:3; Qoh 1:16, 17; 2:26); Job 12:20. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

133

without proper discernment of such hierarchy and participation in the project of creating a community that reflects it. Although it is true that this rule applied to both men and women, the gender of women of memory such as the woman of Abel, of Abigail and for that matter Rahab, whose memory provides an obvious comparable example, is not irrelevant to the formulation of the story, its messages or some aspects of the ways in which it implicitly constructs wisdom. In the case of Rahab, there can be no doubt that her profession is an integral part of the narrative. But even more significantly for the present purposes is that her status and social status in the world of memory shaped by the text contributes to the shaping of an implied message about wisdom, namely it does not have to reside in central or high status characters (e.g., Abigail), but can exist among those considered socially marginal, such as a prostitute who not only is socially marginal in terms of her profession, but also lives in the most marginal place of the city, the wall. Although all women, wise or not, may be considered at some level as subalterns within the world of thought and memory of the literati, the Rahab of memory is a subaltern figure at multiple levels (e.g., gender, profession, ‘ethnicity’) and yet none of this has impeded her from excellent “pragmatic reasoning to navigate important challenges in social life.”40 In addition, Rahab’s personal acknowledgement of YHWH (see esp. Josh 2:11 and cf. 1 Kgs 8:23 [Solomon]; 2 Chr 20:6 [Jehoshaphat]) and of the deity’s relation with Israel takes over any social obligation that she may have to her king, her city and its inhabitants.41 It is probably not irrelevant that the memory of such a seemingly personally-oriented, ‘unmarried’ female is tempered within the mnemonic landscape of the community. After all she does not do away with all social obligations to her kin; in fact, she plays the role of the ‘mother’ figure who saves her family, which now from a pragmatic perspective constitutes ‘the house of Rahab’, from destruction (Josh 2:12–19; 6:25), just as Abigail does. In addition, her rejection of Jericho and its people and any social obligation she might have had concerning them was balanced by her loyal and irrevocable integration into Israel, which eventually led her to become an important site of memory embodying and communicating the successful, permanent and conse40

For the phrase see above. For other figures who are construed as subaltern at multiple levels, but carrying at least some significant wisdom not existent in their purported social environments, see the case of the young slave girl of the wife of Naaman (2 Kgs 5:1–4). Cf., to some extent, with the worldly power of the literati within the larger imperial polity. 41 Again the situation character of this wisdom is obvious. Her behaviour can be construed as wise, only within a world in which the remembering community identifies with the Israelites of the story and with the wisdom of their deity and of its teachings, as construed by the community. This said, this contested situationality of wisdom is a common crosscultural phenomenon, and one’s foolish traitor is often another’s wise hero. See, e.g., the contested memory of Gavrilo Princip, even today. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

134

Ehud Ben Zvi

quential inclusion of a woman who was once a ‘foreigner’ and her kin into Israel in periods later than the late Persian / early Hellenistic era and thus placed her in a role similar to that of Ruth, already in the late Persian / early Hellenistic period.42 As for Abigail, her rejection of her husband Nabal is socially acceptable and a manifestation of her wisdom, and an instantiation of an implied concept of wisdom, but the community remembers well that soon after she became David’s wife (1 Sam 25:39–42) and for that matter, a wise-wife who emphatically supports the socially accepted roles of being a wife and particularly to such a man as David (see esp. 1 Sam 25:14).43 Social order is thus ‘restored’ and the potentially problematic character of marital disloyalty contained. Female wisdom in all these instances prevents death, destruction and chaos and sustains or restores social order and ‘the moral good’ and the related ideology, but once this outcome is achieved, as in all mnemonic narratives and narratives in general, the plot reaches its conclusion and the character fades – whether male or female, until they are recalled when the narrative is activated again, in this case, through re-reading of the story and thus through the re-activation of images and recalling (social) memories shared by the literati. Returning to implied concepts of wisdom in the stories of Abigail and the woman of Abel and questions of gender construction, it is worth mentioning that both were imagined and remembered as correcting erring men at the highest social level and thus saving them from committing crimes. They saved literally the life of their in-group, but also saved leading male leaders from deeds that would have been considered aberrant and indirectly, saved Israel from substantial upheaval. These women were remembered not only as knowing how to speak right, but also knowing what is right. Since the latter was identified within the ideological discourse of the community as YHWH’s teachings, one may say that to some extent they took upon themselves one of the roles of prophetic voices within the discourse of the literati, to serve as warning and teaching voices.44 A final consideration about gender, all these women were imagined by the male readers of these texts (i.e., the literati) as able to know with which competing (alpha) male to align themselves. Failure to do so would have brought death to 42

See Matt 1:5 in which she is presented as ancestress of David and more importantly, Jesus, along with Ruth. See also, for instance, Sifre Numbers 78, in which she is remembered as an ancestress of eight prophets and priests, including Jeremiah and of Huldah, the prophetess. See also Ruth Rab. 2.1, in which she is the ancestress of both Jeremiah and Ezekiel and another eight important priests, and e.g., b. Meg. 14b. (It goes without saying that had the relevant communities really considered mothers to be ‘empty vessels’ or the like, such a mnemonic emphasis on the ancestress[es] would have made no sense; this issue demands a separate discussion that cannot be carried out here.) 43 It is worth noticing Rahab eventually, at a later period, became Joshua’s wife (see b. Meg 15b). 44 I discussed these matters from a variety of perspectives elsewhere, see e.g., Ben Zvi, 2016; Ben Zvi, 2013a: 167–188; Ben Zvi, 2013d: 75–102 and cited bibliography. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

135

themselves and the group they attempted to protect. Yet and significantly, the same applies to males, including important alpha males who were still subordinate to other alpha males (e.g., even Joab loses his life when he picks the wrong male contender). Gendering and power hierarchies functionally overlap in these cases. 3. The Tekoaite woman, the Queen of Sheba and matters of wisdom hierarchies among wise people of memory and of wisdom implicit conceptualizations The memory of the wise woman of Abel recalls the memory of the only other woman in the HB explicitly referred to as ‫אשָּׁ ה ֲחכָמָ ה‬, ִ namely the wise woman of 45 Tekoa (2 Sam 14:2 and cf. 2 Sam 20:16). Moreover, the stories recall and interplay, to some extent, with each other. For instance, Joab is a major character in both and whereas, at least, at one level, the fate of the many are construed as more important than the fate of a single person in one of the stories, it may be argued that the other serves as grounds for exploring within the memory-scape of the community what happens when the opposite position is taken.46 Whereas in the story of Abel, the wise-woman admonishes and instructs Joab; the Tekoaite woman serves as the mouthpiece of a very wise Joab (2 Sam 14:3, 19), who knows extremely well how to change “the course of affairs” by crafting a personalized ploy meant to maximize the chances of the desired outcome with David.47 A comparison between the structural role of the main agents here and in the story of the only other important parable delivered to David, i.e., Nathan’s parable, shows that the wise woman fulfills in the story a role partially comparable to that of the prophet (i.e., Nathan), whereas Joab fills the narrative (and mnemonic) slot usually assigned to the deity. To be sure, to fulfill the job assigned by Joab to her and serve as his mouthpiece, just as to serve as a prophet to YHWH or to Moses (as Aaron does), the messenger has to be wise (cf. Nathan). This said, there is still a hierarchy between sender and messenger. The messengers are, of course, gendered according to the particular choice of parables placed by the wise senders in their respective mouths. Nathan speaks about the out of control male sex drive and about the ‘rich’ and the ‘poor’ man and his ‘ewe lamb’; the woman speaks about the grief of a widow who lost one of her sons and is about to lose the other, and about her loyalty to the line of her husband (2 Sam 14:7).

45

For a closely-related term, see Exod 35:25. For comparison, ‫ ִאישׁ חָ כָם‬occurs nine times in the HB (Exod 36:1, 2; 2 Sam 13:3; 1 Kgs 2:9; Prov 16:14; 26:12; 29:9; 2 Chr 2:6, 12); and see also Deut 1:13, 15. 46 After all, David’s decision to allow Absalom to return led eventually to a civil war and much misfortune for David’s household, both in the sense of Israel and of his family. 47 Again, the implied construction of wisdom is quite clear in this case and is consonant with that which is reflected in the story of the ‘wise-woman’ of Abel. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

136

Ehud Ben Zvi

Returning to Joab and hierarchies of wisdom, the tendency to construct such an extremely wise Joab required some balancing to fit well within the mnemonic landscape of the community. The wise woman of Tekoa serves also to make that very point, once she is relieved of her messenger duty, as she reminds the readers David “has wisdom like that of an envoy of God for knowing things on earth” (‫)כְּ חָ כְ מַ ת מַ לְ אַ הָ ֱא הִ ים לָדַ ﬠַת אֶ ת־כָּל־אֲשֶׁ ר בָּ אָ ֶרץ‬. 48 Although, the woman might be flattering David, the readers were supposed to be impressed by David’s ability to understand what was going on. Yet, the words of the woman are part and parcel of a larger evaluative discourse. Whereas David is remembered as very wise and has “wisdom like that of an envoy of God [not of Joab] for knowing things on earth,” remembering his wise son Solomon (1 Kgs 5:21) meant remembering that divine wisdom has been embodied in him, for the purpose of making judicial decisions ( ‫)חָ כְ מַ ת ֱא הִ ים בְּ קִ ְרבּוֹ‬ ‫( ַלﬠֲשׂוֹת ִמ ְשׁפָּט‬see 1 Kgs 3:28). The literati remembered also that Solomon was divine granted wisdom that no person could rival as an act of God: ‫“ הִ נֵּה נָתַ ִתּי לְ לֵב חָ כָם וְ נָבוֹן אֲשֶׁ ר כָּמוֹ ל ֹא־הָ יָה לְ ָפנֶי וְ אַ ח ֲֶרי ל ֹא־יָקוּם כָּמוֹ‬I give you a wise and discerning mind; no one like you has been before you and no one like you shall arise after you (NRSV, 1 Kgs 3:12).” Not surprisingly, since Solomon had a uniquely divine wisdom, “he was the wisest of all human beings, wiser than Ethan the Ezrahite, and than Heman, Calcol, and Darda, children of Mahol; his fame spread throughout all the surrounding nations” (1 Kgs 5:11 [common ET 4:31]; Heb ‫י־שׁמוֹ בְ כָל־הַ גּוֹיִ ם סָ בִ יב‬ ְ ִ‫) ַויֶּחְ כַּם ִמכָּל־הָ אָ דָ ם מֵ אֵ יתָ ן הָ אֶ ז ְָרחִ י וְ הֵ ימָ ן וְ כַלְ כֹּ ל וְ דַ ְרדַּ ע בְּ נֵי מָ חוֹל וַיְ ה‬, surpassed all the wisdom of the East and of Egypt (1 Kgs 5:10; common ET 4:30) and was “as vast as the sands of the seashore” (1 Kgs 5:9; common ET 4:29). There is much to be explored about the Solomon of memory of these literati from an implicit approach to the concept of wisdom (see, e.g., 1 Kgs 5:12; 13). For the present purposes, however, it is particularly relevant that when Solomon’s fame as wise was construed as attracting not an equal or a rival, but still a human partner who although inferior in wisdom – as it had to be within this discourse and mnemonic landscape – was still able to challenge and test him, such a personage of memory was not a man, as it could have easily been (see the textual context of the reference to Hiram in 1 Kgs 5:14–15 [common ET, 1 Kgs 4:34– 5:1] and cf. 1 Kgs 10:1)49 and as one might have expected given the overwhelming references to great male sages of antiquity, but a woman, the queen of Sheba. To be sure, the fact that she is remembered as the person able to ask the kind of questions that only a person with divine wisdom may answer characterized her as an uncannily wise-woman. Although this element of uncanniness may have contributed to the eventual development of some later constructions of her as a

48

Following the English translation in McCarter, 2008: 336. Of course, later versions of that remembered past ‘solved’ that problem. See, Ant. 8.143, and also 8.149. 49

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

137

non-human, quasi-diabolical being,50 there is little indication that she was remembered as such in the late Persian / early Hellenistic period or even in the late Second Temple period.51 The literati of the period discussed here remembered her as flesh and blood woman of old. She might have transgressed the common anticipation that the wisest people of memory be men (see, e.g., 1 Kgs 5:11 [common ET 4:31]; the reference to Daniel in Ezek 28:3; the mentioned construction of David), but significantly, her position as queen, powerful and exotic at the same time, may have eased that transgression of expectations. Still, the transgression remained, yet it is carefully contained and within the parameters of the worldview of the community, and has to be so, to allow her to remain wise and thus fulfill her mnemonic role. The queen of Sheba’s wisdom is exemplified by both her ability to test Solomon and by the gladness with which she accepts her superior wisdom. Wisdom is in the person and also outside it, as we saw before. Her wisdom includes also an important statement: “Happy are your wives! Happy are these your servants who continually stand before you, who hear all your discernment” (LXX 3 Reigns 10:8; NETS). The MT (1 Kgs 10:8 // 2 Chr 9:7) reads, “Happy are your men!” instead of “wives,” but whatever the ‘original’ text was and whether it mattered or not if the two versions co-existed, the message is one of hierarchy and subordination. YHWH’s servants are happy to enjoy divine wisdom/teaching, and in comparable way, Solomon’s servants are happy to enjoy his (divinely-endowed, superhuman) wisdom. In both cases, wisdom and particularly the source of wisdom was construed as geographically located in Jerusalem: The temple and tôrâ on the one hand, and Solomon and his wisdom on the other. The foreign queen who did not receive her wisdom as a personal dispensation from YHWH and who recognizes the superior wisdom of Solomon can only bring gifts to the source of superior wisdom and envy those who can continually enjoy the spring of wisdom that is Solomon. She returns and has to return to her country. Needless to say, this construction of the wisdom of Solomon as so high had also to be balanced within the mnemonic landscape of the community. Significantly, women of old, the very wives of Solomon, are recalled to play a substantial role in this balancing. Solomon was wise beyond measure, but he served also as the archetypal figure for the ravages of aging. When he aged, his foreign wives took control of him and led him away from YHWH. His wisdom who served him as a shield was no more. Wisdom may last long, but be evanescent too, because it was construed as residing in human bodies.

50

See, Lassner, 1993 and cited works. On midrashic versions of the story of the Queen of Sheba see, from a different perspective, e.g., Stein, 2012: 33–57. 51 Cf. esp. Ant. 8.165–168. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

138

Ehud Ben Zvi

Finally, in these stories women, wise or not necessarily so, may be remembered as challenging the wisdom of the main male wise-man of memory. How he responds to these challenges shows how wise he is. 4. Between the literati and their Deborah and another aspect of their implied wisdom conceptual realm The mnemonic landscape of the community included a few female prophets. Deborah unlike the others (e.g., Huldah) was remembered as serving as (implicitly) a wise judge and political leader of Israel. For the present purposes, it is particularly relevant that remembering her meant also remembering the song with which she was prominently associated (Judges 5). This is not the place to discuss the song,52 her prophetic role/s, and certainly not whether any aspect of this report carries kernels of ‘history’, but simply to note that Deborah was remembered by the literati of the period on which this essay focuses also as composer and performer of a song that becomes part of the authoritative textual repertoire of the literati. By doing so, the Deborah of the literati begins to resemble, even if partially, the literati themselves,53 and so are some of the features that characterize her wisdom. For instance, their Deborah not only voices authoritative texts, but also is able to voice multiple dictions, namely one in Judges 4 and another substantially different in Judges 5. Thus she must be construed as a person who may easily shift from a language diction to another, depending on the circumstances. An aspect of the literati’s wisdom was precisely their ability to shift voices and perform multiple voices. In fact, their YHWH was also remembered as speaking in multiple dictions, and as they read the relevant texts they had to voice all of them, along with the voices of all the personages populating these texts. Wisdom for them and their Deborah went along with linguistic flexibility and an ability to voice multiple voices, in composition and utterance. To be sure, there are differences too between the literati and their Deborah. Deborah was recalled as another case of the wise, protective mother (Judg 5:7) of her household (in this case, Israel). As in other occasions, the protective wise woman was remembered as wisely activating some warrior-like male leader (see above) – though the image of Barak is somewhat diminished in this story. But unlike the other occasions, Deborah is a prophet and thus her practical wisdom consists of appropriately using YHWH’s words to her. Her wisdom is part of her persona and covers a variety of attitude and knowledge, but is also external to her; a point with which the literati would have certainly identified.

52

The literature on the matter is immense. At some level, they resembled far more the wise Deborah than the slightly disparaged warrior-like Barak. 53

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

139

5. From wisdom and “practical” skilfulness to the central concept of activity/role-dependent wisdom The implied conceptual realm of wisdom was understood as inclusive of skilful craftsmanship and other activities that involved the production of artisan or artisan-like goods or show particular expertise in carrying a certain job. YHWH’s wisdom in works of creation is explicitly recalled in, e.g., Jer 10:12; 51:15; Ps 104:24; Prov 3:19. The wise people of old (in this sense of ‘wise’) that appear in the mnemonic landscape of the literati are overwhelmingly male, as it is to be expected (e.g., Exod 31:6; 35:10; 36:1, 2, 8; 1 Kgs 7:14; Isa 3:3; 40:20; 1 Chr 22:15; 2 Chr 2:13). The two cases of female wisdom in this context are both gender marked. The first recalls expert spinners (Exod 35:25–26) and the second expert dirge singers (Jer 9:16). Both activities were usually associated with women. Wisdom, however, involved also practical expertise at a much different level. Wise women were construed as able to ‘build’ their house(hold) and folly women as able to destroy it (Prov 14:1).54 The point cannot be better articulated than in the case of the wise wife55 evoked through readings of Prov 31:10–31. I discussed elsewhere at some length the figure of such ‘utopian’ wise wife and what can be learned about thought and economy from this text.56 For the present purposes, it suffices to state that female wisdom was construed in this text in terms of household economic and commercial savvy, of management and production skills within it, of maternal care but also for entrepreneurship, and finally also in terms of ‘fear of YHWH’. A wise wife combines all of them and thus she leads, manages, protects and increases the wealth of her household. Fearing YHWH is construed as an essential personal attribute of such a wife. If wisdom in the case of kings is often associated with, for instance, administering justice (e.g., Solomon) and the wisdom of Abigail or the wise woman from Abel with their reasoning and the words in their mouth that allowed them to save their group from extreme calamity, and that of the prophets with ability to transmit YHWH’s word and sing and compose, the wisdom of an ‘ordinary’ wellto-do wife living under ‘ordinary’ circumstances was construed as rooted and manifested on her ability to further the welfare of her household, including the acquisition and proper investment of income, for the sake of further income, alongside with the fear of YHWH, without which wisdom could not exist, within the world portrayed and communicated by this text and by others in the book of Proverbs (see, e.g. Prov 1:7; 9:10; 15:33) and the social mindscape of these literati 54

On Prov 14:1, see Fox, 2009: 572 and bibliography. LXX Prov 31:30 refers to her explicitly as ‘wise’. There is no doubt that the wife of Prov 31:10–31 was construed and remembered by the literati as a wise wife, whether this verse was read according to the LXX or the MT. The position of the pericope at the very end of the book of Proverbs emphasizes that understanding of the woman. 56 See Ben Zvi, 2015b: 27–49 and works cited there. 55

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

140

Ehud Ben Zvi

in general.57 In other words, wisdom was construed as consisting of different realms depending on the status, social location, and above all, the main type of activities that the relevant person is supposed to engage/roles to fulfill. Although YHWH was conceived as acting with supreme expertise in all possible fields worthy of mention and memory, human beings were construed as acting in one or just a few fields worthy of mention and memory.58 The fact that Solomon is worth remembering as wise in so many and various fields (e.g., administering justice, building activities, riddles, proverbs, composing songs, speaking of all that fills the world – trees and animals; filling the air, the sea and the waters, managing trade and foreign affairs, etc.) only contributes to his construction as a person with ‘unnatural’ wisdom. The activity-dependent character of personal wisdom raises the issue of gender. Most of the previous examples focused on wise-women who were remembered as fulfilling activities that were not exclusively marked for females within the usual gender constructions of the literati and at work in their worlds of memory and imagination. In these cases, the gender difference likely contributed to matters of wording, of recalling particular images and types and of narrative characterization, plot and links to other stories, but were in some way to the main aspects of their ‘wisdom’, after all men as well as women could perform the necessary activity/role. But gender plays a dominant role for imagining and remembering the wife of Prov 31:10–31. Within the world shaped by this text, there is no room for a husband performing her roles. In fact, the husband is explicitly connected to a different sphere of activities and social roles (Prov 31:23, 28). He could not have been imagined as having her ‘wisdom’ or anything similar to it, even if both shared ‘fearing YHWH’.59 In terms of theories of wisdom, these considerations suggest that the implied concept of wisdom among these literati included matters of expert knowledge and of personality and thus were easily role/activity and at times gender related. The very inclusiveness of wisdom to various types of activities and roles is directly 57

Of course, the range of attitudes, ideas and behaviours recalled by the general (and thus flexible and fuzzy) term ‘fear of YHWH’ was explored and negotiated within the social mindscape of the literati and texts and memories served as main grounds on which these explorations and negotiations could take place. These matters go beyond the scope of this paper and require a separate discussion. 58 There are plenty of human fields in which any person was involved, but were not considered worthy of social mention and remembering. No one was remembered for her/his great expertise for washing her/his face. The fact that no person was imagined as worth remembering among the literati because of their sexual prowess requires a separate discussion and is significant for reconstructions of the social mindscape of the group. Significantly, these male literati were not unique in this respect. 59 Roles associated with spinning or performing dirges were also associated with women. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

141

related to an important aspect of the social mindscape of the community: although the literati might have believed that their work and the fruits of their labour were of higher value and deserve more praise than those of other groups in society, wisdom was in all activities and roles. 1. 6. Additional gendered roles: the wise royal mother, the wise wife and their implications The motif of the protecting mother has been mentioned above and related to it is the role of the wise-mother-of-the-king, which obviously can be fulfilled only by a female. The most memorable wise-mothers-of-the-king were Bath-Sheba and the mother of Lemuel (Prov 31:1–10).60 For the present purposes, it suffices to mention that Bath-Sheba was remembered as acting both as a messenger and agent of Nathan but also on her own initiative to save Solomon and his reign. She also prevents David, her husband, from allowing what would have been a tragic wrong turn for Israel and indirectly, saving the latter. Her actions are thus comparable to those of the woman of Abel or Abigail, but their outcome far more important, because within the narrative of Israel about itself much more was at stake in this case. Her wisdom includes personality, the words of her mouth and willingness to follow the lead of the proper prophet, Nathan. The mother of king Lemuel is remembered as one who protected or attempted to protect her son by providing him with wisdom/wisdom sayings. Her basic role is comparable to that of Lady Wisdom teaching her ‘sons’. In both cases there are usual admonitions against inappropriate and dangerous women and drinking61 (see Prov 31:3–5; cf. Prov 5:1–10; 7:4–27; Prov 23:29–35). The rest of the instruction deals with the traditional role and obligations of the king and are specific to the wisdom of the mother-of-the-king. They include the traditional reference to the obligation of the king to “judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy” (vv. 8–9; citation from v. 9),62 but also in vv. 6–7 the following: ‫ ְתּנוּ־שֵׁ כָר לְ אוֹבֵ ד וְ יַיִ ן לְ מָ ֵרי ָנפֶשׁ׃ יִ ְשׁתֶּ ה וְ יִ ְשׁכַּח ִרישׁוֹ ַו ֲﬠמָ לוֹ ל ֹא יִ ְזכָּר־עוֹד‬which may be translated as “Give strong drink to anyone who is perishing, and wine to the embittered; When they drink, they will forget their misery, and think no more 60

Interestingly, the two became one in rabbinic and medieval Jewish traditions, which thus identified Solomon with Lemuel, see, for instance, Lev. Rab. 12.5; Num. Rab. 10.4; Song Rab. 1.10; Qoh. Rab. 1:2; b San 70b; Ibn Ezra on Prov 31:1. From a mnemonic perspective, this is another example of cross-cultural tendencies towards oneness or combining the similar. 61 Both motifs have a very long tradition in ‘wisdom admonitions’. They appear already in the Instructions of Shuruppak, and in multiple lines and ways. (Compare e.g., Prov 31:5 and line 126.) An ET of the instructions is freely available at the site of The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature (ETCSL) and the direct link to them is http://etcsl. orinst.ox.ac.uk/section5/tr561.htm. 62 Which is another common ANE royal topos; see, e.g., the prologue to the Laws of UrNammu. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

142

Ehud Ben Zvi

of their troubles” (Prov 31:6–7; NAB). Although this advice might be read as a cynical ploy akin to provide “opium for the masses,” it was more likely understood by the literati as conveying a sense of compassion for those who are embittered and miserable, within the context of a worldview and world of knowledge in which the existence of such individuals is taken for granted.63 If this is the case, then the protective, instructive mother of the king embodies a wisdom that includes empathy and care for the other, elements that tend to appear in studies of contemporary implicit, cross-cultural concepts of wisdom and blends them, as appropriate to her role in society, with a royal duty to act. Further, effective empathy and compassion in this case, require the wise-woman to find and, as instructional mother, to shape the appropriate agent, king Lemuel. This is part of her role as wise-woman. From the perspective of the literati, the mother of king Lemuel was construed not only as instructing him and them, the readers, but also through them, instructing Israel. Given that within their discourse Israel, as they understood it, the latter was ideologically (even if partially) royalized, this means that the mother of the Lemuel from their world of memory and they themselves, at different levels, fulfill, in this respect, the slot of the (teaching) mother of the kingly entire community/Israel. The final observation in this section concerns a very different type of wisdom. The folkloristic, cross-cultural motif of the man/husband who encounters what seems to be a troubling situation, only to be ‘saved’ from the situation by a woman/wife that draws his attention to some ‘common-sense’ or logical observation that was completely missed by the man/husband, appears also in the textual repertoire of these literati.64 Although, it might be possible to approach the case of the wise woman of Abel in that light, the most obvious case within the repertoire of the literati was that of the wife of Manoah (Judges 13, see esp. vv. 22–23). Her role in the story (cf. and contrast with the story of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis) seems to contribute to a sense of female wisdom as at times a necessary complement to male wisdom, and at times as a solution to the lack thereof, for society to exist. III. Two final observations I would like to conclude this essay with two general comments/observations on this contribution and the argument/s explored here. The first is that in view of all the above, one might still and certainly correctly claim that as interesting as all the cases mentioned above are, still a male sage was the default, the ‘unmarked’ sage of old, and of the present of the relevant literati as well.

63

On these matters and the instructions against (too much) drinking for the king but requiring him to provide compassionate drink for those who may need it, see Lavoie, 2015: 33–54; and cf. Fox, 2009: 886–887. 64 Cf., for instance, Propp, 1984: 24. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

143

But precisely an awareness that the male sage was the ‘unmarked’ demands an awareness that each case of a memory involving a wise-women of memory is ‘marked’ and thus needs to be explained. Why was that case ‘marked’? What was gained by the ‘marking’ and what would have been lost without it in each particular case? And what about when the ‘default’ is a woman, such as the case with the dirge experts, the spinners and perhaps the woman of Prov 31:10–31 or the protective mother of Prov 31:1–9? Perhaps even more importantly, when communities imagined and remembered ‘exceptional’ cases involving social gendered constructions in ancient Israel (or other societies for that matter; e.g., the powerful role of Queen Elizabeth I – there is nothing unique about ancient Israel or the mentioned literati, on these matters), whether consciously or unconsciously, they affirmed and acknowledged the essential contingency of the relevant gendered construction. This is not a minor, secondary issue from, at the very least, a perspective of the intellectual history. My second observation is more general. One of the main goals of this essay has been to explore the heuristic potential of a model informed by (a) social memory approaches as applied to the world of the literati of the late Persian/early Hellenistic period and by (b) current cross- and trans-disciplinary trends in the study of wisdom and matters of gender and wisdom for historical studies of wisdom and constructions of female wise-women as they existed within the social mindscape and world of knowledge of a particular group, namely these literati. Such an exploration, if successful, has the potential to open additional research paths into the intellectual history of ancient Israel and especially that of the mentioned literati. The present contribution was meant, inter alia, as a ‘proof of concept’ test and I hope I convinced you that it has successful passed the test. If so, much remains to be done and I invite the readers to take part in this endeavour and blaze their own paths and contribute their own observations.65 Abbreviations AYB Anchor Yale Bible BZAW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly FOTL Forms of the Old Testament Literature FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments JAAR Journal of the American Academy of Religion JAOS Journal of the American Oriental Society JSJSup Journal for the Study of Judaism, Supplement Series 65

I want to express my gratitude to the colleagues who participated in this Melammu workshop and to the organizers. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

144

JSOT JSOTSup LHBOTS SBLAIL SR USQR VT WANEM NAB NJPSV NRSV

Ehud Ben Zvi

Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies Society of Biblical Literature: Ancient Israel and Its Literature Studies in Religion Union Seminary Quarterly Review Vetus Testamentum Worlds of the Ancient Near East and Mediterranean New America Bible New Jewish Publication Society Version New Revised Standard Version

Bibliography Achenbaum, W.A., 2004: “Wisdom’s Vision of Relations”. Human Development 47, 300–303. Aldwin, C.M., 2009: “Gender and Wisdom: A Brief Overview”. Research in Human Development 6, 1–8. Ardelt, M., 2004a: “Where Can Wisdom Be Found?: A Reply to the Commentaries by Baltes and Kunzmann, Sternberg, and Achenbaum”. Human Development 47, 304–307. — 2004b: “Wisdom as Expert Knowledge System: A Critical Review of a Contemporary Operationalization of an Ancient Concept”. Human Development 47, 257–285. — 2009: “How Similar are Wise Men and Women? A Comparison Across Two Age Cohorts”. Research in Human Development 6, 9–26. Baltes, P.B. / Kunzmann, U., 2004: “The Two Faces of Wisdom: Wisdom as a General Theory of Knowledge and Judgment about Excellence in Mind and Virtue vs. Wisdom as Everyday Realization in People and Products”. Human Development 47, 290–299. Baltes, P.B. / Staudinger, U.M., 2000: “Wisdom: A Metaheuristic (Pragmatic) to Orchestrate Mind and Virtue toward Excellence”. American Psychologist 55, 122–136. Ben Zvi, E., 2013a: “Chronicles and its Reshaping of Memories of Monarchic Period Prophets: Some Observations”. In M.J. Boda / L.M. Wray Beal (eds.): Prophets, Prophecy, and Ancient Israelite Historiography. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns. Pp. 167–188. — 2013b: “Exploring the Memory of Moses ‘The Prophet’ in Late Persian/Early Hellenistic Yehud/Judah”. In D.V. Edelman / E. Ben Zvi (eds.): Remembering Biblical Figures in the Late Persian & Early Hellenistic Periods: Social Memory and Imagination. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pp. 335–364. — 2013c: “Prophetic Memories in the Deuteronomistic Historical and the Prophetic Collections of Books”. In M.R. Jacobs / R.E. Person Jr. (eds.): Israelite

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

145

Prophecy and the Deuteronomistic History. Portrait, Reality and the Formation of a History. SBLAIL 314. Atlanta: SBL. Pp. 75–102. — 2013d: “The Memory of Abraham in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud/ Judah”. In D.V. Edelman / E. Ben Zvi (eds.): Remembering Biblical Figures in the Late Persian & Early Hellenistic Periods: Social Memory and Imagination. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pp. 3–37. — 2014: “Remembering Pre-Israelite Jerusalem in Late Persian Yehud: Mnemonic Preferences, Memories and Social Imagination”. In A. Kemezis (ed.): Urban Dreams and Realities in Antiquity: Remains and Representations of the Ancient City. Leiden: E.J. Brill. Pp. 413–437. — 2015a: “Remembering Hosea: The Prophet as a Site of Memory in Persian Period Yehud”. In E. Ben Zvi / C.V. Camp / D.M. Gunn / A.W. Hughes (eds.): Poets, Prophets, and Texts in Play. Studies in Biblical Poetry and Prophecy in Honour of Francis Landy. LHBOTS 597. London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark. Pp. 37–57. — 2015b: “The ‘Successful, Wise, Worthy Wife’ of Prov 31:10–31 as a Source for Reconstructing Aspects of Thought and Economy in the Late Persian/Early Hellenistic Period”. In M.L. Miller / E. Ben Zvi / G.N. Knoppers (eds.): The Economy of Ancient Judah in Its Historical Context. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns. Pp. 27–49. — 2016: “Memory and Political Thought in the Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud/Judah: Some Observations”. In D.V. Edelman / E. Ben Zvi (eds.): Leadership, Social Memory and Judean Discourse in the 5th–2nd Centuries BCE. WANEM. London: Equinox. Pp. 9–26. — 2019 (forthcoming): Social Memory among the Literati of Yehud. BZAW 509. Berlin: de Gruyter. Bronner, L.L., 1994: From Eve to Esther: Rabbinic Reconstructions of Biblical Women. Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox. Camp, C., 1981: “The Wise Women of 2 Samuel: A Role Model for Women in Early Israel”. CBQ 43, 14–29. — 1999: “The Wise Women of 2 Samuel: A Role Model for Women in Early Israel”. In A. Bach (ed.): Women in the Hebrew Bible: A Reader. New York / London: Routledge. Pp. 195–207. Campbell, A.F., 2005: 2 Samuel. FOTL 8. Grand Rapids, Mich. Chen, L.-M. / Cheng,Y.-Y. / Wu, P.-J. / Hsueh, H.-L., 2014: “Educators’ Implicit Perspectives on Wisdom: A Comparison between Interpersonal and Intrapersonal Perspectives”. International Journal of Psychology 49, 425–433. Curnow, T., 2010: Wisdom in the Ancient World. London: Duckworth. Dell, K., 2008: “Scribes and Seers in the First Temple”. In L.G. Perdue (ed.): Scribes, Sages, and Seers: The Sage in the Eastern Mediterranean World. FRLANT 219. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Pp. 125–144.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

146

Ehud Ben Zvi

Denny, N.W. / Dew, J.R. / Kroupa, S.L., 1995: “Perceptions of Wisdom: What is it and Who has it?”. Journal of Adult Development 2, 37–47. Fox, M.V., 2009: Proverbs 10–31: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AYB 18B. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Frymer-Kensky, T., 2002: Reading the Women of the Bible: A New Interpretation of Their Stories. New York: Shocken Books. Geyer, M.L., 1986: “Stopping the Juggernaut: A Close Reading of 2 Samuel 20:13–22”. USQR 41, 33–42. Glück, J. / Strasser, I. / Bluck, S. 2009: “Gender Differences in Implicit Theories of Wisdom”. Research in Human Development 6, 27–44. Gordon, R.P., 1993: “The Variable Wisdom of Abel: The MT and Versions at 2 Samuel XX 18–19”. VT 63, 215–226. Grabbe, L.L., 1993: “Prophets, Priests, Diviners and Sages in Ancient Israel”. In H.A. McKay / D.J.A. Clines (eds.): Of Prophets’ Visions and the Wisdom of Sages: Essays in Honour of R. Norman Whybray on his Seventieth Birthday. JSOTSup 162. Sheffield: JSOT Press. Pp. 43–62 — 1995: Priests, Prophets, Diviners, Sages: A Socio-historical Study of Religious Specialists in Ancient Israel. Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International. Grossmann, I., et al., 2012: “Aging and Wisdom: Culture Matters”. Psychological Science 23, 1059–1066. Lassner, J., 1993: Demonizing the Queen of Sheba: Boundaries of Gender and Culture in Postbiblical Judaism and Medieval Islam. Chicago:, University of Chicago Press. Lavoie, J.J., 2015: “Vin et bière en Proverbes 31,4–7”. SR 44, 33–54. Levenson, M.R., 2009: “Gender and Wisdom: The Roles of Compassion and Moral Development”. Research in Human Development 6, 45–59. McCarter Jr., P.K., 2008: II Samuel: A New Translation with Introduction, Notes, and Commentary. AYB 9. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, orig. pub. 1984. Meier, S.A., 1991: “Women and Communication in the Ancient Near East”. JAOS 111, 540–547. Orwoll, L. / Perlmutter, M., 1990: “The Study of Wise Persons: Integrating a Personality Perspective”. In R. J. Sternberg (ed.): Wisdom: Its Nature, Origins, and Development. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Pp. 160–177. Perdue, L., 2008: “Sages, Scribes, and Seers in Israel and the Ancient Near East: An Introduction”. In L.G. Perdue (ed.): Scribes, Sages, and Seers: The Sage in the Eastern Mediterranean World. FRLANT 219. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Pp. 1–34. Propp, V., 1984: Theory and History of Folklore. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Rasul, S., 2015: “Gender and Power Relationships in the Language of Proverbs: Image of a Woman”. FWU Journal of Sciences 9, 53–62.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Memories of Female (and Male) Sages in Late Persian / Early Hellenistic Yehud

147

Ryan, S., 2014: “Wisdom”. In E.N. Zalta (ed.): The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. URL = http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2014/entries/wis dom/. Schipper, B. / Teeter, D.A. (eds.), 2014: Wisdom and Torah. The Reception of ‘Torah’ in the Wisdom Literature of the Second Temple Period. JSJSup 163. Leiden: Brill. Shalom-Guy, H., 2010: “Three-Way Intertextuality: Some Reflections of Abimelech’s Death at Thebez in Biblical Narrative”. JSOT 34, 419–432. Sneed, M., 1994: “Wisdom and Class. A Review and Critique”. JAAR 62, 651– 672. Stein, D., 2012: Textual Mirrors: Reflexivity, Midrash and the Rabbinic Self. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Sternberg, R.J., 2004: “Words to the Wise about Wisdom?: A Commentary on Ardelt’s Critique of Baltes”. Human Development 47, 286–289. Takahashi, M. / Bordia, P., 2000: “The Concept of Wisdom: A Cross-Cultural Comparison”. International Journal of Psychology 35, 1–9. Townsend, J.T., 1989: Midrash Tanḥuma: Genesis. Hoboken, NJ: Ktav. Whybray, R.N., 1974: The Intellectual Tradition in the Old Testament. BZAW 135. Berlin. Wink P. / Helson R., 1997: “Practical and Transcendent Wisdom: Their Nature and Some Longitudinal Findings”. Journal of Adult Development 4, 1–15.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Prov 1–9; 31 Context, Definition and Function of her Personification Stéphanie Anthonioz

Considering Wisdom in a gendered approach, the case of Lady Wisdom should not be omitted. It is significant as E. Ben Zvi has showed that male and female sages are loci of particular remembrances. In this case, one may wonder what Lady Wisdom stands for as she is so unique and located primarily in the Hebrew Bible in the first collection of Proverbs (1–9). The following analysis aims at demonstrating the historical context in which such a feminine figure emerged and its possible functions in Hellenistic Judaea. I. Unity, coherence and historical context of the first collection of Proverbs (1–9) The compositional unity of the first collection of the book of Proverbs has usually been a matter of consensus among scholars.1 G. Yee has convincingly demonstrated that the general structure was all the more meaningful as it opposed two feminine figures: wisdom personified and the stranger or strange woman (‫אשה‬ ‫)זרה‬:2 Prov 1:11–14 Prov 1:22–33 Prov 4:4–9 Prov 5:12–14

Prov 7:14–20 Prov 8:4–36 Prov 9:5–6 Prov 9:16–17

Speech of the Sinners A Speech of Wisdom Β • Warning vs. the ’iššâ zārâ – 2:6–19* Speech of the Father’s Father B’ • Warning vs. the zārâ – 5:1–11, 15–23* Speech of the Son A’ • Warning vs. the ’ēšet rā‘ – 6:23–35* Speech of the ’iššâ zārâ Speech of Wisdom Speech of Wisdom Speech of the ’ēšet kesîlût

A Β B’ A’

1

This division has been common since Whybray’s Commentary, 1965 (a): 33–52. See also Fox, 2000: 44; Waltke, 2004: 10–11 who keeps 11 instructions (1:8–19; 2:1–22; 3:1– 12, 13–35; 4:1–9, 10–19, 20–27; 5:1–23; 6:1–19, 20–35; 7:1–27) et two interludes (1:20– 33; 8:1–36). And recently Loader, 2014: 8 who prefers to speak of “lesson.” 2 Yee, 1989: 53–68. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

150

Stéphanie Anthonioz

The following structure that is proposed here and further develops the preceding one aims at showing the profound unity and coherence of the collection as well as its thematic recurrence and spiral development. For this reason, titles are voluntarily repeated when necessary. As for the delimitation of sections it is based on formal indications, most of the times inclusions. This leads to the final apotheosis as wisdom personified has built her house whereas Lady Folly falls down into Sheol with those who follow her.3 Here is the structure: Prologue 1:1–7;4 1:8–19 Instruction: allowing oneself to be instructed; 1:20–33 Wisdom in the streets; 2:1–7 Instruction: searching for wisdom; 2:8–15 The two ways; 2:16–22 The stranger or strange woman; 3:1–17 The way of life and the law; 3:18–20 The tree of life; 3:21–35 Blessings; 4:1–9 The beginning of wisdom: acquiring wisdom; 4:10–19 The way of life; 4:20–27 The way of life, again; 5:1–6 Instruction against the stranger, mortal way; 5:7–14 Stranger or strangers; 5:15–23 The espoused woman of youth; 6:1–35 Instruction against abominations; 7:1–27 The stranger, again 8:1–11 Lady Wisdom calls out; 8:12–21 Wisdom’s eulogy; 8:22–36 Wisdom’s origins; 9:1–12 Lady Wisdom has built her house; 9:13–18 Lady Folly.

3

On the origins of Lady Folly and the different hypotheses that have been proposed, see Fox, 2000: 304–305. See also the diverse hypotheses concerning the Stranger as foreign divinity in Clifford, 1993: 61–72; Boström, 1935. 4 Verses 1–7 offer a general sapiential introduction that introduces both the first collection and the whole book. This introduction is clearly delimited by the petuha as well as by the inclusio formed with the repetition of “wisdom and discipline” (‫)חכמה ומוסר‬. See Gemser, 1963: 88 and more recently Loader, 2014: 49–50. For a different view, see R.N. Whybray, 1965 (b): 37, who considers verses 1–5 to be introducing the first collection only. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Prov 1–9; 31

151

The following table may give greater light to the general structure: Instructions

Antitheses to wisdom personified

Wisdom represented and personified

Prologue 1:1–7 1:8–19 Instruction: allowing oneself to be instructed 1:20–33 Wisdom in the streets 2:1–7 Instruction: searching for wisdom 2:8–15 The two ways 2:16–22 The stranger 3:1–17 The way of life and the law 3:18–20 The tree of life

3:21–35 Blessings 4:1–9 The beginning of wisdom: acquiring wisdom 4:10–19 The way of life 4:20–27 The way of life, again 5:1–6 Instruction against the stranger 5:7–14 Stranger or strangers

5:15–23 The espoused woman of youth 6:1–35 Instructions against abominations 7:1–27 The stranger again

8:1–11 Lady wisdom calls out 8:12–21 Wisdom’s eulogy 8:22–36 Wisdom’s origins 9:1–12 Lady wisdom has built her house

9 :13–18 Lady Folly

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

152

Stéphanie Anthonioz

At the heart of this structure chapter 5 mirrors the stranger with the woman espoused in one’s youth, thus forming a diptych and mise en abyme of the whole collection. Around this core opposition, the mirroring structure develops: Prov 1:20–33 closes with the image of personified wisdom on the streets whereas Prov 2:16–22 closes with the stranger, each one opening a way, life or death. This opposition further developed in chapter 5 is again exposed in chapters 7 and 8 reaching its apotheosis in Prov 9 when Lady Folly opposes Lady Wisdom. In this general structure, whereas instructions are numerous before the central chapter 5, they tend to diminish afterwards, allowing greater place for the different feminine portraits. Having shown the unity and coherence of the collection, let us now consider its possible date of redaction. It is clear that in biblical studies many propositions have been made ranging from the Solomonian area to the Persian period.5 There seems to be no reason to retain the monarchic period since nothing in this first collection, contrarily to the other collections (10:1–22:16; 25:1–29:27), may give any information on that period. A late date is retained here with a preference for the Hellenistic period (from the beginning of the second half of the IVth century BCE onwards) rather than the Persian one. One argument is philological since the Hebrew of the collection (as that of the final poem 31:10–31) is late according to orthography, morphology or Aramaisms. Yet no influence from the Greek may be discerned.6 Another argument that has been commonly pointed out is the use and reinterpretation of the book of Deuteronomy in the collection. The sapiential vocabulary referring to fear, the law, or the heart as well as the numerous exhortations and the fundamental attitude to listen and keep what is taught and transmitted are clearly recalling Deuteronomy’s stylistic devices and ideology.7 Therefore John J. Collins has analyzed this reinterpretation as the will of the Second Temple scribes to reconstruct the “Persian” community at the hands of the family or clan rather than at those of a centralized administration.8 This convincingly explains how the Law of Moses is re-contextualized in this collection (1:8; 3:3; 6:20–21). Another argument may be adduced in order to refine the date and prefer the Hellenistic period rather than the Persian one: the argument of the tree of life. The tree of life and its identification to wisdom (Prov 3:18) invites the reader to reinterpret wisdom in the light of the trees planted in the garden of Eden (Gen 2:8–9). Is not the tree of life (‫ )עץ חיים‬guarded by the Cherubims in Eden so that man and woman may not eat of its fruit and have eternal life (Gen 3:22)? This reading seems to be now reversed in Prov 3:18 “She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her; those who hold her fast are called happy.” Moreover, the expressions “length of days” (‫ארך ימים‬, Prov 3:2, 16) and “years of life” (‫שנות חיים‬, Prov 3:2) 5

See Waltke, 2004: 31–37. Yoder, 2001. 7 Brekelmans, 1979: 28–38; Malfroy, 1965: 49–65. Recently Schipper, 2013: 55–80. 8 Collins, 2005: 251–280. 6

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Prov 1–9; 31

153

associated with the image of the way may refer to eternal life as it is in Mesopotamian literature.9 And finally, way and life create an inclusion and form an echo precisely to Gen 3:24. In the Bible, it is clear from Gen 3:22 that life eternal belongs to Yhwh alone. For this reason precisely, the expressions analyzed in Prov 3 urge for a renewed interpretation of the tree of life: this time it can be grasped and eaten. The divine judgement pronounced against man and woman is now reversed. Wisdom, life eternal and divine may be grasped and taken as a fruit and happy those who dare to do so! These different arguments provide a better understanding for the date and context of the collection and final redaction of the book of Proverbs: clearly the Hellenistic period must be preferred in light of the evolution of the conception of death and life eternal. Let us now get back to the question of personification and the analysis of the different literary strategies at work in the definition of wisdom as a woman. II. The definition of wisdom according to Prov 1–9 Wisdom is not personified at once and as it appears in the prologue of the collection it may be defined in a threefold way, in terms of theory, practice and poetry. Wisdom (‫חכמה‬, 1:2, 7, 20; 2:2, 6; 3:13, 19; 4:5, 7 [×2], 11; 5:1; 7:4; 8:1, 11, 12; 9:1, 10) is first and foremost characterized by a flow of different concepts: “discipline” (‫מוסר‬, 1:2, 3, 7, 8; 3:11; 4:1, 13; 5:12, 23; 6:23; 7:22; 8:10, 33), “knowledge” (‫דעת‬, 1:7, 29; 2:5, 6; 3:20; 4:1; 5:2; 8:9, 10, 12; 9:10), “intelligence” (‫בינה‬, 1:2; 2:3; 3:5; 4:1, 5, 7; 7:4; 8:14; 9:6, 10), “discernment” or “understanding” (‫תבונה‬, 2:2, 3, 6, 11; 3:13, 19; 5:1; 8:1), “reflection” or “prudence” (‫מזמה‬, 1:4; 2:11; 3:21; 5:2; 8:12), “warning” or “reproof” (‫תכחת‬, 1:25; 3:11; 5:12; 6:23), “success” (‫תושיה‬, 2:7; 3:21; 8:14), “counsel” (‫עצה‬, 1:25,30; 8,14; ‫מעצות‬, 1:31), “education” (‫לקח‬, 1:5; 4:2; 7:21; 9:9), “consideration” (‫השכל‬, 1:3; ‫שכל‬, 3:4), “fear” (‫יראה‬, 1:7, 29; 2:5; 8:13; 9:10), “prudence” (‫ערמה‬, 1:4; 8:5, 12), “teaching” (‫תורה‬, 1:8; 3:1; 6:23; 7:2), “sound behavior” (‫תחבלות‬, 1:5), “strength” (‫גבורה‬, 8:14), “compassion” (‫חסד‬, 3:3) and “truth” (‫אמת‬, 3:3). These concepts are associated time and again in numerous ways.10 Why such a play on concepts? Certainly, as repetitions and var9

It may be demonstrated in Mesopotamian literature that the higher the antiquity the longer symbolically days become. Fortunately, this mythological temporality is not unknown in biblical texts and may be seen in the lives of the patriarchs especially in the primitive history of Gen 1–11: the higher the antiquity the longer the life of the patriarchs. See Anthonioz, 2009: 267–270. Contra Fox, 2000: 143, 159 (life is but security against premature death; the tree figures vitality and healing, it has no mythological connotation). In this sense see Prov 13:12; 15:4; 11:30 and also Qo 7:12, 17; Jb 5:20; 7:9; 12:12; 33:29; Si 1:20; 14:17–19; 17:27–28; 18:9–10. However, in the book of Proverbs all references cited by M. V. Fox belong to earlier collections so that nothing hinders a reinterpretation of the tree of life in the last collection of Prov 1–9. 10 • Wisdom / discipline / intelligence (1:2); wisdom / discipline (1:7); wisdom / discernment (2:2; 5:1; 8:1); wisdom / discernment / knowledge (3:19–20); wisdom / knowl© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

154

Stéphanie Anthonioz

iations go on, it becomes clear that wisdom does contain each and every nuance of these different concepts somewhat announcing the definition of wisdom in the Book of Wisdom (7:22–8:6). As a divine attribute, the use of the abstract plural (‫ )חכמות‬is significant (1:20; 9:1)11 as well as the assertion that wisdom is the gift of God (2:6 cf Sir 1:1; Wis 8:21; 9:4). How theoretical this definition may appear it does not go without a strong ingredient of practice. Wisdom is therefore as practical as it may be theoretical and the lexical field of law and justice show how concrete it is. More than the vocabulary,12 admonitions are present in every instruction whether it appears in positive terms13 or negative ones.14 This definition relies on a principal of retribution as one is rewarded for the good and punished for the evil done.15 In this way, Prov 1:8–19 introduces the opposition between edge / discernment (2:6); wisdom / knowledge (2:10); wisdom / intelligence (4:5; 7:4); wisdom / wisdom / intelligence (4:7); wisdom / prudence / knowledge / reflections (8:12); wisdom / fear (9:10); • the discipline of consideration (1:3); discipline / teaching (1:8); discipline / warning (3:11; 5:12); discipline / discernment (3:13); discipline / knowledge (8:10); discipline / the knowledge of intelligence (4:1); • commandments / teaching (6:20); commandment / teaching / warnings of discipline (6:23); commandments / teaching (7:2); • counsel / warning (1:25, 30); counsel / success / intelligence / strength (8:14); • fear / knowledge (1:7; 2:5); knowledge / fear (1:29); • prudence / knowledge / reflection (1:4); reflections / knowledge (5:2); knowledge / intelligence (9:10); intelligence / discernment (3:3); • education / sound behavior (1:5); warning / breath / words (1:25); grace and consideration of good (3:4); success and reflection (3:21); fortune / glory / riches / justification (8:18); justification / judgment (8:20). One may underline with M.V. Fox that “the distinctions among these terms are often not essential for understanding a verse, since Proverbs includes several intellectual powers in its concept of wisdom and praises them all together, nor is it much concerned with drawing fine distinctions among the types it condemns. (…) It is important to distinguish between lexical and contextual meaning, which is to say, between the nuclear meaning a word contributes to the new context and the enriched and complex meanings it receives by interaction with its new environment”. Fox, 2000: 28. 11 See Psa 49:4; Prov 14:1; 24:7. Concerning this debated form see Fox, 2000: 96–97; Loader, 2014: 92. 12 See “justice” [‫צדק‬, 1:3; 8:8, 15, 16], “judgment” [‫משפט‬, 1:3; 2:8,9; 8:20], “right” [‫ישר‬, 2:13; 4:11], “righteousness” [‫מישרים‬, 1:3; 2:9; 8:6], “commandment” [‫מצוה‬, 2:1; 3:1; 4:4; 6:20, 23; 7:1, 2], “justification” [‫צדקה‬, 8:18, 20]) and the just (‫צדקים‬, 2:20; 9:9; 4:18; ‫ישרים‬, 2:7, 21; ‫חסידיו‬, 2:8. 13 Prov 2:20; 3:1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 21; 4:1, 4, 5, 6, 10, 13, 15, 20, 21, 23, 24, 26, 27; 5:1, 2, 15; 6:1, 21; 7:1, 2, 3, 24; 8:6, 10, 32, 33. 14 Prov 1:10, 15; 3:1, 3, 5, 7, 11, 21, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31; 4:2, 5, 6, 13, 14, 15, 21 ,26; 5:7, 8; 6:20, 25; 7:25; 8:33. 15 See the deed-consequence nexus (Tat-Ergehen-Zusammenhang) developed by Koch, 1955: 1–42. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Prov 1–9; 31

155

the good way and the evil one that leads eventually to death. In this sense the personification of wisdom in that first chapter is not exceptional. If wisdom goes and calls out (1:21, 24), she nonetheless repeats the previous instruction addressed by the sage or teacher to his son or pupil. The discourse that she utters is merely traditional so that her feminine attributes are not put in the service of a renewed vision of life and justice. The voice of wisdom is but an overstatement of the instruction and logically the fear of Yhwh structures the whole chapter (1:7, 29).16 As underlined by C.A. Newsom, “where the father is the authoritative voice in the family, ḥokmôt (personified wisdom) is the corresponding public voice ‘in the streets,’ ‘in the public squares.’”17 This principal of retribution may be verified along the collection in passages such as 4:6–8; 8:18. Another dimension may be added to the practical definition of wisdom, that one may call Deuteronomic, particularly in Prov 3–4, as notions common to the book of Deuteronomy color these chapters. In fact, the Deuteronomic law is connoted in different ways with the expressions of attachment to the neck and of writing on the tablet of one’s heart, with the reference to “compassion and truth” (cf. Deut 5:22; 6:6–8)18 and with the importance of the heart (3:1.3.5 cf Deut 4:11; 28:65; 29:3, 18). In Prov 6 comes another instruction in the style of Prov 3–4: “My son, keep your father’s commandment, and do not reject your mother’s teaching. Bind them upon your heart always, fasten them around your neck” (6:20–21 cf. 1:8; 3:3). Prov 7 opens with a new interjection “my son” and the instruction to keep the commandments as the pupil of one’s eyes and continues in Deuteronomic style with the binding on one’s fingers (cf. Deut 6:8) and writing on the tablet of one’s heart (7:3 cf 3:3). Consequently, the practical definition of wisdom refers to the ideology of the book of Deuteronomy but also its images and poetry. So we arrive at the third dimension in the definition of wisdom, the poetic one. For wisdom is also the art of speaking and addressing oneself to others as the title (‫ )משלי שלמה‬and opening in Prov 1:6 make clear. Wisdom is not just theory and practice, it is also a discourse: wisdom speaks clearly and openly, the truth. Indeed the art of poetry is at work in the collection beyond the classical definition of parallelism: numerous devices may be counted such as aphorism (1:17; 3:12–13; 16

Note the inclusion and chiastic structure: fear of Yhwh – knowledge (v. 7) / knowledge – fear of Yhwh (v. 29). 17 Newsom, 1989: 145; Waltke, 2004: 11, who concludes on the identification of wisdom personified: “The prologue offers no other plausible candidate for her identification than the proverbs of Salomon and the sayings of the wise (1:6). In 4:5 the grandfather put her identification beyond reasonable doubt by placing personified Wisdom in parallel with the ‘words from my mouth.’ ” (87). However, the analysis of the literary personification at work in this collection goes far beyond that one reference in the book of Wisdom. 18 Note that in Deut 6:8 they should be attached not to the neck but to the hands and between the eyes (cf. Prov 1:9; 4:9). © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

156

Stéphanie Anthonioz

4:7), macarism (3:13), assonances (for example in 2:13), alliteration (as in 1:27), enjambments (as in 2:17–18), repetition (1:19; 2:2–3) and polyptoton on the verbal roots of understanding (‫)בין‬, doing right (‫)ישר‬, teaching (‫)ירה‬, warning (‫)יכח‬, knowing (‫)ידע‬, counseling (‫)יעץ‬, comparisons with silver in 2:4 and 3:14–15 or with light in 4:18–19, metaphors like that of the way which is recurring or that of the crown and jewels in 1:9, without forgetting that of the tree in 3:18. It becomes clear in regard of this analysis that personification must be considered but one device among all those reviewed in the service of wisdom’s definition as a divine attribute. Wisdom has by now been defined in a threefold way, theoretically, practically and poetically and several literary devices have come to light. Let us turn to the particular device of personification. Wisdom is personified in different ways through the names she is given, her bodily attributes as well as the jewels she is adorned with. The places where she is located are important as well as the activities to which she lends herself. From the opening, she cries out and calls in the streets (1:20) so that the first characteristic of her apparition is the place where she chooses to stand, open noisy and human. She does not retire into the desert but stands ready to be greeted and met. In this sense she is often considered in a prophetic role.19 Moreover wisdom’s personification works through the mention of her voice and her hands and through her addressees, the simple and foolish. But above all, wisdom gives herself and in this way she may be acquired. This last point is maybe the greatest originality of this first appearance of wisdom personified, the giving of herself. The personification is further developed in chapter 4 in the law of retribution we have underlined above as she does to others what they do to her. In Prov 4:9 a crown of grace is mentioned reminding of 1:9 but the crown here becomes the attribute of the one who has embraced her. No sexual connotation is associated with this embracement. In Prov 7:4 personification is characterized by the names she is given: she is a sister and intelligence a parent. But clearly the eulogy of chapter 8 is the masterpiece of this literary device. As she calls out again, shares and gives all she is and has.20 Clearly the chapter develops her first appearance in Prov 1, she is now located everywhere and calling out to everybody, men and sons of Adam (8:4). In this sense, nothing hinders her to address women too. The eulogy continues with the story of her origins. This section is important as it defines her essence and relation to the divinity Yhwh as this has long been debated.21 However the thrice repeated verbs of birth and creation clearly make her first in the order of creation. Consequently, she was present at the creation of the world (cf 3:19–20) with God as āmôn (‫)אמון‬22, delighting 19

Loader, 2014: 91. Gilbert, 1990: 202–218; Yee, 1982: 58–66. 21 Whybray, 1965: 504–514; Ringgren, 1947, and more recently Davidson, 2006: 42–43. 22 About this term, a vast debate has been going on. Two major interpretations have been defended whether “child” (āmûn) or craftsman (in relation to Akkadian ummânu). See for 20

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Prov 1–9; 31

157

him day after day, delighted in him (8:30) and in the world (8:31). She knows the foundations of the earth, its laws and decrees and for this reason she may proclaim that kings reign through her. She has learnt and therefore she may teach all those who turn to her and share her joy. No erotization as in the later book of Wisdom but a vivid incarnation of wisdom as woman, teacher and mother. Finally, in chapter 9, wisdom has built her house symbolically and perfectly represented by its seven pillars.23 She has prepared a banquet and offers food and fine beverages. She becomes more than a character, a roof and food for all who need. III. The functions and context of personification Certainly, the genius of such a literary tool is not so much personification in itself but the way it is used in the context of the whole collection since personified wisdom is mirrored by other feminine representations, the stranger, the wife from the youth, and we may add the virtuous and strong woman in the poem of Prov 31:10– 31 closing the whole book. The genesis of the final poem is not literarily connected to the first collection of Proverbs, however the placing of the poem in final position offers a closing echo and a last word on the meaning of the whole scroll or book without having to consider the poem as a “handbook for prospective bridegrooms”24 or the instruction of a mother for her daughters in a higher society.25 How then are we to understand the general structure of the book and the function of this final poem? Without doubt the acrostic form of the poem offers the essence of a totality: this woman is ideal.26 The virtuous woman could be the wife from the youth at the heart of the first collection (5:15–23) that has grown mature, married, she is also the mother of many and maybe also becoming old. Personification is also genially made use of in regard of the hearer/reader since by the direct style, hearing/reading becomes the locus where the encounter with wisdom becomes possible. Just as wisdom calls out in Prov 1 so one must call her out and answer her (Prov 1:3), just as she turns against those who turn against her, so one must turn to her that she might turn towards him. Beyond the conceptual definition of wisdom, the invitation and reciprocal quest are part of the literary strategy of personification. The personification of wisdom is thus a literary tool that is genially made use of in the book of Proverb in light of all the rhetorical and

example Hurowitz, 1999: 391–400; Cazelles, 1999: 45–55; Scott, 1960: 213–223 and recently Loader, 2014: 356–360. Entering this debate brings no decisive argument concerning the literary personification of wisdom. 23 For Greenfield, 1985: 13–20, these pillars would refer to the seven primitive sages in Mesopotamian tradition. M. Coogan rather sees in the symbolism a reference to the creation of the world and J.A. Loader an allusion to the final structure of the edited scroll of Proverbs containing seven collections. See Coogan, 1999: 203–209; Loader, 2014: 7–8. 24 Whybray, 1965 (a): 184. 25 Ndoga, 2014: 172–194; Crook, 1954: 137. 26 Sinnott, 2004: 213–222. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

158

Stéphanie Anthonioz

stylistic devices and in light of the gallery of feminine portraits that we have been able to analyze. In its literary context, the personification is consequently very meaningful. Wisdom shines as the best woman to choose for one’s life. What about its historical context? We have argued that the first collection could only be dated to the Hellenistic period, why then would this figure be created at that time if indeed it is not earlier. Is it sufficient to demonstrate in a comparative approach that Lady Wisdom has a lot in common with Egyptian Isis or Greek philosophical figures?27 Why would scribes give the divinity Yhwh, which has evolved more and more independently from any divine council or female consort, a close feminine being present and active beside him precisely in this period? On the level of the history of religion, one may wonder if this literary personification is the sign of a greater proximity with God or on the contrary the sign of a greater distance between men and God thus forcing the creation of both literary and theological bridges to reach him? In this sense, wisdom personified would function as a “bridge” just as the non-pronunciation of the divine name does at the same period. This non-pronunciation is relayed by epithets or titles “Lord”, “Most High.” This, it seems, has to do with the much-analyzed concepts of šem and kavod theologies.28 This also has to do with the invention of angels. As argued by I. de Hulster: “This phenomenon is not fully understood, but several reasons might be noted. First, increased interest in intermediaries may have been a function of the emergence of monotheism. Specifically, stressing Yhwh’s incomeparability and universality may have had the consequence of enhancing divine transcendence, thus distancing God from human affairs. In this context there arose a need for intermediaries, or divine messengers, who could function as God’s agents in the earthly realm. Carrying out this role, angels mediate divine revelation (Zech 1:9), commission people for certain tasks (Judg 6:11–24), intervene in decisive moments in individual lives (Gen 22:11–12), announce births (Gen 16:11–12), and serve as agents of divine protection (Num 20:16) and punishment (2 Samuel 24). By fulfilling these tasks, angels provide God with ‘face-to-face’ contact with human beings (e. g., Genesis 18). Hilbrands (2006) elaborates on this last point with regard to the book of Exodus when he concludes that angels can be a literary device that function to speak about a creational form of Yhwh’s appearance. Or, as Anselm Grün puts it, ‘Through the idea of angels who stay at our side, God’s healing and loving closeness become concrete for us. From the beginning, angels have opened a horizon of experience’” (2000:10).29

27

Anthonioz/Tenaillon, 2017; Cannuyer, 2001. Mettinger, 1982. 29 De Hulster, 2015: 162–163. 28

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Prov 1–9; 31

159

Lady Wisdom does appear very meaningful in such a context of renewed theological reflection. With the natural distancing that consciousness of the divine glory brought about, Lady Wisdom as celestial as she may have looked is in fact created -indeed a literary and theological creation- for human to find wisdom and in finding wisdom coming closer to the divine Yhwh. Why is she feminine? In light of her literary, comparative and historical context, the feminine, both woman and mother, may have been sensed another way, as necessary as the other masculine ways, to associate love and endeavor in a quest for life. It is in its different aspects that the divine is most fully comprehended. Bibliography Anthonioz, S., 2017: “Le poème de la femme vertueuse (Pr 31,10–31): un épilogue herméneutique”. In Ekklèsia. Approches croisées d’histoire politique et religieuse. Mélanges offerts à Marie-Françoise Baslez. Pallas 104, 21–35. — 2009: L’eau, enjeux politiques et théologiques, de Sumer à la Bible. Vetus Testamentum suppl. 131. Leyde. Anthonioz, S. / Tenaillon, N., 2017: “La personnification de la sagesse: Regards croisés philosophique et biblique”. Judaïsme ancien – Ancient Judaism 5, 77– 108. Boström, G., 1935: Proverbiastudien: Die Weisheit und das Fremde Weib in Spr. 1–9. Lund. Brekelmans, C., 1979: “Wisdom Influence in Deuteronomy”. In M. Gilbert (ed.): La Sagesse de l’Ancien Testament. Louvain. Pp. 28–38. Cazelles, H., 1999: “Ahiqar, Ummân and Amun, and Biblical Wisdom Texts”. In Z. Zevit / S. Gitin / M. Sokoloff (eds.): Solving Riddles and Untying Knots: Biblical, Epigraphic, and Semitic Studies in Honor of Jonas C. Greenfield. Winona Lake. Pp. 45–55. Clifford, R.J., 1993: “Woman Wisdom in the Book of Proverbs”. In G. Braulik (ed.): Biblische Theologie und gesellschaftlicher Wandel. Freiburg im Breisgau. Pp. 61–72. Collins, J.J., 2005: “The Law and the Sages: A Reexamination of Tôrâ in Proverbs”. In J.T. Strong / S.S. Tuell (eds.): Constituting the Community: Studies on the Polity of Ancient Israel in Honor of S. Dean McBride Jr. Winona Lake. Pp. 251–280. Coogan, M.D., 1999: “The Goddess Wisdom – ‘Where Can She Be Found?’: Literary Reflexes of Popular Religion”. In R. Chazan et al. (eds.): Ki Baruch Hu: Ancient Near Eastern, Biblical, and Judaic Studies in Honor of Baruch A. Levine. Winona Lake. Pp. 203–209. Crook, M.B., 1954: “The Marriageable Maiden of Prov. 31:10–31”. Journal of Near Eastern Studies 13, 137–140. Davidson, R.M., 2006: “Proverbs 8 and the Place of Christ in the Trinity”. Journal of the Adventist Theological Society 17, 33–54.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

160

Stéphanie Anthonioz

Fox, M.V., 2000: Proverbs 1–9. New York. Gemser, B.,1963: Sprüche Salomos. Tübingen. Gilbert, M., 1990: “Le discours de la Sagesse en Proverbes 8: structure et cohérence”. In M. Gilbert (ed.): La Sagesse de l’Ancien Testament. Louvain. Pp. 202–218. Greenfield, J., 1985: The Seven Pillars of Wisdom (Prov. 9:1) – A Mistranslation”. Jewish Quarterly Review 76, 13–20. Hulster, I.J. de, 2015: “Of Angels and Iconography: Isaiah 6 and the Biblical Concept of Seraphs and Cherubs”. In I.J. de Hulster / B.A. Strawn / R.P. Bonfiglio (eds.): Iconographic Exegesis of the Hebrew Bible-Old Testament: An Introduction to its Method and Practice. Göttingen. Pp. 147–164 Hurowitz, V.A., 1999: “Nursling, Advisor, Architect? ‫ אמון‬and the Role of Wisdom in Proverbs 8:22–31”. Biblica 80, 391–400. Koch, K.,1955: “Gibt es ein Vergeltungsdogma im Alten Testament?”. Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche 52, 1–42. Loader, J.A., 2014: Proverbs 1–9. Leuven. Malfroy, J., 1965: “Sagesse et Loi dans le Deutéronome: Études”. Vetus Testamentum 15, 49–65. Mettinger, T.N.D., 1982: The Dethronement of Sabaoth: Studies in the Shem and Kabod Theologies. Coniectanea Biblica. Old Testament Series 18. Lund. Ndoga, S.S., 2014: “The Plausibility of Proverbs 31 as Final Parental (Motherly) Instruction”. Journal for Semitics 23, 172–194. Newsom, C.A., 1989: Woman and the Discourse of Patriarchal Wisdom: A Study of Proverbs 1–9”. In P.L. Day (ed.): Gender and Difference in Ancient Israel. Minneapolis. Pp. 142–160. Ringgren, H., 1947: Word and Wisdom: Studies in the Hypostatization of Divine Qualities and Functions in the Ancient Near East. Lund. Schipper, B.U., 2013: “When Wisdom is not Enough! The Discourse on Wisdom and Torah and the Composition of the Book of Proverbs”. In B.U. Schipper / D.A. Teeter (eds.): Wisdom and Torah: The Reception of ‘Torah’ in the Wisdom Literature of the Second Temple Period. Leyde. Pp. 55–80. Scott, R.B.Y., 1960: “Wisdom in Creation: The Amon of Proverbs VIII 30”. Vetus Testamentum 10, 213–223. Sinnott, A.M., 2004: Proverbs 31:10–31: A Wise Woman or Personified Wisdom?”. In M. Augustin / H.M. Niemann (eds.): Basel und Bibel: Collected Communications to the XVIIth Congress of the International Organization for the Study of the Old Testament (Basel 2001). Frankfurt am Main. Pp. 213– 222. Waltke, B., 2004: The Book of Proverbs. Chapters 1–15. Grand Rapids. Whybray, R.N., 1965 (a): Wisdom in Proverbs. London. — 1965 (b): Wisdom in Proverbs: The Concept of Wisdom in Proverbs 1–9. Londres.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Prov 1–9; 31

161

Yee, G., 1989: “‘I Have Perfumed My Bed with Myrrh’: The Foreign Woman (’issa zara) in Proverbs 1–9”. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 43, 53–68. — 1982: “An Analysis of Prov 8.22–31 according to Style and Structure”. Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 94, 58–66. Yoder, C., 2001: Wisdom as a Woman of Substance: A Socioeconomic Reading of Proverbs 1–9 and 31:10–31. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 304. Berlin.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Greek Culture Athena as a Deity of Polymorphic Intelligence Ennio Biondi

In Greek mythology, the personification of wisdom is represented by the goddess Athena, daughter of Zeus and his first wife Metis;1 Athena is the goddess of wisdom, of arts such as weaving and in general of all crafts. She is also the patron deity of the noblest aspects of war, while Ares oversees the most cruel and violent aspects of warfare.2 In times of peace men worship her because she causes all the inventions in the field of human knowledge, while during war she helps only those who fight with intelligence and cunning, as in the famous case of Odysseus. It is worth noting that Athena’s mother, Metis, is a deity who, as the Greek term shows, represents the personification of prudence, rather than reflection or wisdom itself. 3 Metis in fact is defined by Hesiod as she who knows more than any god or mortal; 4 in this sense it is clear that the peculiarities of Athena largely depend on the relationship she has with her mother in the myth. According to Hesiod Zeus swallowed Metis when she was pregnant with Athena, an episode which symbolizes the close relationship between father and daughter.5 As further evidence of this strong link it should be recalled that Athena is widely connected to Metis already in the Homeric poems, as indicated by the epithets πολύβουλος ‘very wise’, or even πολύμητις ‘very cautious’; 6 finally Athena herself can be sometimes called Metis. 7 And yet this Metis-Athena is not a goddess of practical or intellectual work, but rather a goddess of war, which once again confirms the polymorphic intelligence of this deity.8 However one must not forget that Athena is a polyvalent goddess, as many prerogatives are related to her and she is furthermore the protagonist of different kinds of supernatural actions. And yet her versatility is without doubt linked to the intelligence and the skill that characterizes any of her activities or epithets; in this sense, what differentiates her from Metis is the fact that she presents herself as a person, i.e. she is not a simple realization of an abstract principle, but a figure who embodies

1

Hes. Theog. 886; Apollod. Bibl. 1.3.6. See about Deacy-Villing, 2001: 3. 3 Hes. Theog. 886–890. On Metis see also Apollod. Bibl. 1.2.1–2. On Metis and Athena see Burkert, 2011: 221. 4 Hes. Theog. 887. 5 See also Apollod. Bibl. 1.3.6. 6 Hom. Il. 5.260; Od. 16.282; Hymn. Ath. 2: see also Od. 13.298–299. 7 Hymn. Orph. 32.10. 8 See about Deacy, 2016: 59–64. 2

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

164

Ennio Biondi

the qualities she patronizes, and is able to put them in practice when necessary. In what follows we will try to give a brief picture of how the wisdom of Athena fulfills its major aspects, i.e. how her intelligence is manifested in the individual life of a Greek man, the faithful who recognized in Athena the deity to refer to in order to overcome the trials he ventured in. 1. Athena Chalkioikos In Sparta9 Athena (also called Metis)10 was worshipped under the epithet of Chalkioikos,11 namely ‘the bronze house’:12 Pausanias states that there was a temple dedicated to her in the acropolis of the same city.13 Urban youth in arms, led by the ephors, participated in the feast in honor of this deity.14 In the orphic tradition15 Athena and Hephaestus received the patronage over all the arts from the Cyclops: in fact Athena and Hephaestus were still worshipped together in classical times during the Chalcheaean feasts. During this public festival Athena was honored under the epithet of Ergane, ‘worker’, by the bronze workers and all craftsmen in general.16 However the predominance of Hephaestus in this feast evidently began in the IV century BC, as demonstrated by a passage of Phanodemus,17 where we read that the Chalcheaen feasts were not celebrated in honor of Athena but in honor of Hephaestus.18 Perhaps Chalkioikos was already a characterization that Athena had in the Mycenean period and could be explained by her connection with bronze craftsmen.19 It’s true that with the epithet of Chalkioikos Athena appeared especially as a woman clad in the weapons typical of bronze warriors.20 We could suppose that it is properly in this warrior function that Athena extended her patronage over the 9

For some aspects of Athena’s cult in Sparta and Corinth see Villing, 20092: 81–100. P. Oxy. 1802 F3, col. III 54. 11 It is an epithet especially attested in literary sources, but we can find it in the epigraphic sources too: see Piccirilli, 1999: 3. 12 In fact some scholars suppose that this epithet is not in direct connection with the deity, rather with the bronze ornaments of the temple of Athena; however Piccirilli, 1999: 4–8 supposes that the epithet is also linked to a sort of Kultname. See also Fortunelli, 1999: 388. On Athena Chalkioikos cp. Detienne/Vernant, 1978: 134. 13 Paus. III 17.2 speaks at the same time of the temple of Athena Poliouchos or Chalkioikos; in two other passages (IV 15.5; X 5.11) he quotes tout court the temple of Athena Chalkioikos. 14 Polyb. 4.22.8; 35.2. 15 OF3 179. See also 178 and 180. 16 Suda, s. v. Χαλκεῖα; Et. Magn. P. 805.43 ss; Eust. Ad Il. 2.552, p. 284.35. 17 FGrHist 325 F 18. Cp. Poll. 7.105. 18 Piccirilli, 1999: 8–9. 19 Piccirilli, 1999: 10. 20 For iconography see Villing, 20092: 83–86. For a literary image of armed Athena see Aristoph. Lys. 1320–1. 10

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Greek Culture

165

craftsmen who produced weapons.21 In the Homeric Hymn dedicated to her, the poet presents Athena as the goddess of war, neglecting all other prerogatives: she is the goddess who loves fighting in war and protects the army when it leaves and when it returns.22 The myth of the birth of Athena describes the daughter of Zeus and Metis shining in the light and in the tumult, while emitting a powerful war cry. 23 In the Iliad in fact light and bronze are the features that characterize Athena’s military power.24 In the same poem Athena helps Achilles when, trying to prevent the Trojans from stealing the body of Patroclus, he is left without weapons: he lent his weapons to Patroclus himself and as he did not yet receive the weapons that the mother Thetis looked for with the god Hephaestus, Athena then gave him her own weapons: “But Achilles dear to Zeus rose up, and Athena flung her tasseled aegis round his strong shoulders; she crowned his head with a halo of golden cloud from which she kindled a glow of gleaming fire. As the smoke that goes up into heaven from some city that is being beleaguered on an island far out at sea – all day long do men sally from the city and fight their hardest, and at the going down of the sun the line of beacon-fires blazes forth, flaring high for those that dwell near them to behold, if so be that they may come with their ships and succor them – even so did the light flare from the head of Achilles, as he stood by the trench, going beyond the wall – but he aid not join the Achaeans for he heeded the charge which his mother laid upon him.”25 Now, even if the Chalkioikos adjective may well allude to certain characteristics of the Spartan sanctuary that housed the effigy of the goddess, we cannot deny that it does evoke the connection with the race of the bronze men, or warriors whose vocation for military activities is so strong that, as Hesiod says, their houses are made of the same metal as the weapons from which they die. 26 The warrior function of Athena is strictly consistent with her renunciation of marriage and taking the vow of virginity, in the sense that she rejects, as J.-P. Vernant says, her femininity assigning to her warrior virtues the maximum intensity.27 And yet it is natural to ask how the military vocation of a deity, daughter of Metis, can coexist with functions of protection, prudence and intelligence at different levels down to the more practical ones. From this point of view it is essential to note the totalitarian dimension of war in the ancient world, which vision 21

Wilamowitz-Moellendorf, 1971: 49. Hymn. Ath. 2–4. 23 O.F. 174 Kern; Pind. Ol. 7.35–38; Hymn. Ath. 4–16. 24 See for example Hom. Il. 5.734–745. 25 Hom. Il. 18.200–215. English translation Butler, 1898. 26 Hes. Op. 150–5. See now Bonazzi, 2017: 36–44. 27 Detienne/Vernant, 1978: 134. 22

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

166

Ennio Biondi

cannot possibly be compared to that of today; and yet we have to wonder about the way Athena uses and instills prudence in battles.28 The art of war is a technical knowledge that consists par excellence of several levels of reflection and action: from the more abstract level, such as the strategic organization, to the more concrete ones, as the clinch in battle, or the use of different weapons at different moments of the struggle. In this perspective, the intelligence as well as prudence, but also cunning and discernment, cannot be alien to a good soldier and he has to ask for help from Athena during the battle. Athena represents the rationality, intended as right measure, that subordinates the brutal violence of the war; a famous example is in book XXI of the Iliad where in some divine battle, Athena wins over Ares, replacing the furious fray of the heroes with the ordered combat.29 One could say, quoting L. Piccirilli, that with the patronage of Athena war acquires a function in the Greek polis as civic activity.30 With her advice and her help Athena is a response to her protégés, the most famous of which are the heroes of the Homeric Iliad and Odyssey, Achilles and Odysseus; the intelligence of the goddess is shown in her divine nature through eerie magic and prestigious spells. The passage of the Iliad that exemplifies the wise action of Athena towards Achilles best is at the same time famous and significant, i.e. when this last meditates in his heart to kill Agamemnon, guilty, according to the hero, of having seriously wronged him. While Achilles is undecided what to do against Agamemnon Athena came down from heaven, sent by the goddess, white-armed Hera. She stood behind him, and caught the son of Peleus by his tawny hair, allowing herself to be seen by him alone, and of the rest no one saw her. And Achilles was struck with wonder, and turned round, and at once recognized Pallas Athena; and terribly did her eyes flash. Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, said to him to cease from strife.31 In the field of war the prudence of Athena works as a fascinating mechanism that mixes magical abilities with the different religious values of metal. In this sense we have to remember the image evoked by J.-P. Vernant and M. Detienne comparing the owl, the sacred animal of Athena, with the war activities of the goddess: Athena in the epic poem is the γλαυκῶπις, namely the goddess ‘of the sharp eyes’, as well as in Argos she is the ὀξυδερκής, namely the ‘keen-eyed goddess’. Starting from the VIth century BC coins depict her associated with the owl; as the owl in fact terrifies and seduces other birds through its fixed and hypnotic eyes and the modulation of its song, so Athena triumphs over her enemies through her eyes and her weapons.32 Therefore Athena is different from Ares, even though the two deities can coexist in the same context of war or worship, as in the case of the aforementioned 28

See Burkert, 2011: 220–225. Hom. Il. 21.391–414; see also 5.850–863. 30 Piccirilli, 1999: 17. 31 Hom. Il. 1.194–211. 32 Detienne/Vernant, 1978: 136–138. 29

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Greek Culture

167

Homeric Hymn to Athena, in the sense that she is not the deity who oversees war as a destructive activity – she is not a deity who causes death and destruction indiscriminately.33 We can certainly say that between the two deities there exists an unbridgeable gulf; 34 Ares is the god of war in an objective sense: he is called foolish by Homer35 and he doesn’t know laws or rationality.36 Ares is hated by Zeus because he only loves battles and wars;37 the epithet that distinguishes him is indeed ἀλλοπρόσαλλος, namely he who supports one and then the other party in the struggle at the same time.38 Ares loves massacre for its own sake whoever is the winner: in fact Achilles says to Hector: “Not long of a surety will those two hold aloof from the mighty fray, when between the wooers and us in my halls the might of Ares is put to the test.”39 Athena is the protector of warriors and thus enhances their human qualities: courage, tenacity, guile: she is always victorious against Ares. In this sense Ares represents the furious force of war, lacking prudence and hated by other gods, while Athena promotes ordered combat and is loved by men and gods as well. From this point of view it is worth remembering the distinction between the two deities made by W. Burkert: “Selbst der Krieg Athenas ist nicht wildes Draufgängertum – dies ist in die Gestalt des Ares gefasst –, sondern eigentümlich kultiviert, als Tanz, als Taktik, als Entsagung.40 (...) Ares ist Verkörperung alles dessen, was am Krieg hassenswert ist; der Glanz des Sieges, Nike, bleibt der Athena.”41 Athena is not the goddess of war, even in a technical sense, if it is true that she does not hold the weapons in her own hand; rather, she is able to use the weapons that Hephaestus, the craftsman god par excellence, has made available. 42 Hephaestus in fact is one of the deities that most often is, along with Zeus, associated with Athena:43 M. Delcourt states that between Hephaestus and Athena, the Athenians established a constant affinity, attested by worship, monuments, and poetry because of their ability in crafts.44 And yet the distinction between the two is very 33

The idea of opposition between Athena and Ares is already found in Ruskin, 1890: 49. Deacy, 2008: 54–58 has recently criticized this model and tried to show the similarities between the two deities. 34 Hom. Il. 5.830–4; cp. Od. 11.537. 35 Hom. Il. 5.831; Od. 11.537. 36 Hom. Il. 5.761. 37 Hom. Il. 5.890–1. 38 Hom. Il. 5.831, 889. 39 Hom. Od. 16.268–9. English translation Murray, 1976. 40 Burkert, 2011: 220. 41 Burkert, 2011: 260. 42 Cp. Detienne/Vernant, 1978: 136–138. 43 See for example Plat. Leg. 920 d–e. 44 Cp. Delcourt, 1957: 51–60. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

168

Ennio Biondi

clear: if for Hephaestus craft is mostly an art revolving around the creation of a practical product, for Athena it is a possession far more essential, namely the awareness and the intelligence that is not resolved in a specific practice, but is a preliminary virtue to many other aspects, if not all that requires the use of wisdom. Although war is not the specific activity of Athena, it is her ability to well manage the military dynamics, regulating activity, a mixture of supernatural intuition and practical power, which defines her as the goddess of wisdom and of which the military sense is no more than one of the many manifestations. 2. Athena Hippia In the Greek world Athena Hippia is closely associated with Poseidon Hippios:45 in this sense Athena is the protector of horses, whether they are tamed or wild. The list of Greek places where Athena Hippia receives a cult is very long,46 and yet the most interesting for our case is the cult of Athena Chalinitis, i.e. the protector of the bit, the part of the bridle with which the goddess controls the animal during the ride. In the Periegesis of Pausanias in this regard there is a brief excursus about Athena Chalinitis: 47 she helps Bellerophon, handling the horse Pegasus by his own hand. It is a myth that Pindar speaks of very extensively in the XIII Olympic written in 464 BC to celebrate the double victory of an illustrious Corinthian in the stadium and pentathlonraces. 48 “Who once suffered much indeed in his yearning to yoke Pegasos, the snaky Gorgon’s son, beside the spring, until, that is, the maiden Pallas brought him the bridle with the golden bands, when his dream suddenly became reality and she spoke, ‘Are you asleep, prince of Aiolos’ race? Come, take this horse charm, and sacrificing a white bull, show it to your father, the Horsetamer.”49 So after telling the dream to the clairvoyant Polyidos “The seer commanded him to heed the dream as quickly as possible, and, upon sacrificing a strong-footed victim to the mighty Earthholder, to erect at once an altar to Athena Hippia. The god’s power easily brings into being even what one would swear impossible and beyond hope. And indeed powerful Bellerophon, eagerly stretching the soothing remedy around its jaws, captured the winged horse. He mounted him, and clad in his armor of bronze immediately began to make sport in warfare.”50

45

Detienne/Vernant, 1978 : 149–150. See about LIMC 2009: 117. 47 Paus. 2.4.1. 48 Pind. Ol. 13.63–87. 49 Pind. Ol. 13.63–70. English translation by Race, 1997. 50 Pind. Ol. 13.79–87. 46

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Greek Culture

169

And it is on the relationship between the bit and the horse that we have to concentrate to understand the effect of the Metis of Athena on the horse and related activities. The bit is actually the tool that allows in practice the act of domestication of the horse: its apparition represents a turning point in the history of many civilizations. In fact, the horse is naturally a wild animal which beneficial properties are accessible to men only after its domestication; at this moment in fact men can make use of the horse for farm work, for short trips or long-distance ones or even as indispensable means for war. From this point of view the action of Athena arises in line with her military epithet, if we think about the aforementioned episode of Achilles braked by the goddess before he could fulfill irreparable actions. Athena Hippia/Chalinitis exercises prudence on the horses as the Athena Chalkioikos exercises it on the warriors: she puts a stop to the horse when the animal is bolting. In this sense the etymology of the ephitet Chalinitis seems to be connected to the Greek word χαλινός, ‘brake’. 51 The cult of Athena Chalinitis spread in Corinth, a society ruled until the end of the VIIth century BC by Bacchiadae, aristocratic elites associated with the possession and breeding of horses,52 but the function of Athena tamer of horses was known throughout Greece even in later times, as evidenced by the fact that Cimon deposed in Athens a bit on the altar of Athena on the eve of the battle of Salamis, in the middle of the Vth century.53 Athena Hippia differs from Poseidon because she is the goddess of the horse itself, and also differs from Hephaestus, who as god of metalworking is the author of the bit as a tool. Athena is instead the one who uses her intelligence not for the horse but on the horse. 3. Athena Polias In the Greek kosmos Athena is also a Polias divinity, namely ‘the protector of the city’; S. Deacy states that Athena “was evoked as city protectress and as Promachos as ‘fighter in front’ or ‘champion’”.54 She recommends men for the government of a city and is at the same time the bearer of victories. Athena in this sense is associated with Zeus, her father who often fulfills, too, these functions: this is particularly true in Athens, where Athena and Zeus were linked in the civic cult; in fact the Acropolis was at the same time the home of Athena Polias and Zeus Polieus.55 It is in this capacity that Athena is at the centre of the Platonic reflection on the constitution of cities as the goddess that ensures compliance with laws and stands as the bearer of salvation for the city. In the Laws, Plato draws the picture 51

Vernant/Detienne, 1978: 190. Vernant/Detienne, 1978: 149. 53 See Plut. Cim. 5.2–3. On this episode see Culasso Gastaldi, 1996: 519–520; cp. Biondi, 2016: 113–114. 54 Deacy, 2008: 5. 55 Plat. Leg. 745 b–c; 848d. Deacy, 2008: 77–78. 52

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

170

Ennio Biondi

of the city of Magnesia, a great city that has never existed, but that is the perfect polis according to its policy and paideutics. In this city Athena receives a cult and there at the same time she plays a very important role that is often shared with that of the supreme deity Zeus.56 In Athens Athena defends the rights of craftsmen, by virtue of the special bond she has with this people; in the same city there is the famous cult of Athena Ergane, patron of the practical intelligence of artisans.57 Athena and Zeus both receive a special worship during the feast of Apaturia, when the various phratries or clans from Attica meet to discuss their affairs. Zeus and Athena are also the deities to preside over the integration of young people into the adult world: we can easily understand that the role of Athena was to instill in the young the Metis that permitted their transition from youth to the maturity of man. In Plato’s ideal city of the Laws children should be inscribed since their first year of life into phratries, so that, being part of these associations protected by Zeus and Athena, they confirmed officially their status as citizens.58 In the Platonic reflection about the constitution of the cities Athena thus plays a particularly important role that cannot be separated from her quality of bearer of intelligence and prudence: this virtue is essential for one who cares about the proper functioning of a city. 59 Plato’s Athena is certainly a goddess which is purified from the myth, if we can say so, but she does not lose the characteristics that mark her divinity. Plato considered Athena as a guide for citizens, ready to bring them help so that their actions could lead to the welfare of the city. Conclusions Athena is for the Greeks a versatile deity in appearance and a protector in different contexts: in this sense extremely significant is the minute we can read in Plato’s Timaeus that Athena is at the same time φιλοπόλεμός τε καὶ φιλόσοφος, ‘warlover and philosopher’.60 There are also numerous attributes that are assigned to her and she appears also under different forms. However the versatility of Athena makes sense only because the variety of characteristics that distinguishes her is bound by the wisdom with which she masters the fields in which she acts: so Metis allows her to be the lady of hosts, Glaukopis, Ergane, or even the Polias goddess of many cities of Greece, primarily Athens. Metis allows Athena to appear in several aspects because the way of approaching the goddess is simple: her wisdom in fact is the basis for all activities, in the sense that no activities can be well performed without intelligence and prudence. For this reason, a warrior has recourse to Athena in the same way a craftsman has. 56

Plat. Leg. 848d. Cp. Deacy, 2008: 51; see also Villing, 1998: 147–168. 58 On the connection between Athena and Zeus see Deacy, 2008: 76–79. 59 Plat. Leg. 785 a–b. 60 Plat. Tim. 24d. 57

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Lady Wisdom in Greek Culture

171

Athena’s action is mainly characterized by the idea of her control of reality, it is a security that gives to his worshipper safety and rationality. In this sense the episode of braked Achilles or even the image of Athena Hippia that restrains the runaway horse fit into the intellectual tradition of Greek culture which ideal, since the archaic age, is the concept of right measure and proper control. In Plato’s Phaedrus, in the IVth century, the idea of the charioteer that brakes the horse in the race becomes a metaphor for the rational soul as a driver that keeps two horses bridle, one white and one black, namely the soul with feelings of spiritual character and the concupiscent one.61 It would be interesting to reflect on the role played by the figure of Athena Hippia Chalinitis in the reflection of Plato that led to the speculation of the charioteer myth. To conclude, the idea of Athena as the goddess of right measure and proper control is an aspect that involves also the forms of representation of her gender, at least from the archaic age to the Periclean one: in this sense the affirmation of L. Llewellyn-Jones that Athena was a construct of Greek mind is very significant.62 Athena became the symbol of physical, social and ethical dominance: this is an aspect that causes the lack of femininity in the representation of the goddess as we can see by the early statues of hers realized in a masculine look: “The martial invincibility of the goddess is reinforced by the thickness and tightness of her dress whereby the real protective value of thick clothes (…) is unconsciously extended to the moral sphere”.63 We can see this aspect on a red figure amphora by the Nikoxenos Painter dating to around 500 BC:64 Athena is depicted with the deep folds of the clothes that completely mask her form and her virginal body so desired by men. Correspondingly we could find traces of this lack of femininity in the myth recounted by Pherecydes65 of Athens and later by Callimachus that relate how Tyresias saw the virginal body of Athena and went blind. These ways of representation, literary or iconographic, confirm that Athena, as personification of wisdom and rational control, hides her sexuality as the beginning of a realized ideal. Bibliography Biondi, E., 2016: La politica imperialistica ateniese a metà del V secolo. a.C.: il contesto egizio-cipriota. Milano. Bonazzi, M., 2017: Atene, la città inquieta. Torino. Burkert, W., 20112: Griechische Religion der archaischen und klassischen Epoche. Stuttgart.

61

Plat. Phaedr. 246 a–b. Llewellyn-Jones, 2001: 238. 63 Llewellyn-Jones, 2001: 242. 64 LIMC 2 (1984), 1010–1011, s. v. Athena 582. 65 FGrHist 3 F 92; Apollod. Bibl. 3.6.7. Schol. Od. 10.493; Call. Hymn. 5.18–19. 62

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

172

Ennio Biondi

Butler, S., 1898: Homer. The Iliad. Eng. Trans. S. Butler. London / New York / Bombay. Culasso Gastaldi, E., 1996: “I Filaidi tra Milziade e Cimone. Per una lettura del decennio 490–480 a.C”. Athenaeum 84, 493–527. Deacy, S., 2008: Athena. London/New York. — 2016: “‘We call her Pallas, you know’. Naming, taming and the construction of Athena in Greek culture and thought”. Pallas. Revue des études antiques, 100, 59–72. Deacy, S. / Villing, A., 2001: “Athena. Past and Present. An Introduction”. In S. Deacy / A. Villing: Athena in the classical world. Leiden. 1–26. Delcourt, M., 1957: Héphaistos ou la Légende du Magicien. Paris. Detienne, M. / Vernant, J.-P., 1978: Le astuzie dell’intelligenza nell’antica Grecia. Roma/Bari (trad. it.). Fortunelli, S., 1999: “Potere e integrazione nel programma chiloniano: il tempio di Athena Chalkioikos sull’acropoli di Sparta”. Ostraka 8 (1), 387–405. LIMC 1984: Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae, 2 vols. Zürich. — 2009: Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae (Supplementum 2009). Düsseldorf. Llewellyn-Jones, L., 2001: “Sexy Athena: the dress and the herotic representation of a virgin war-goddes”. In S. Deacy / A. Villing: Athena in the classical world. Leiden. 233–258. Murray, A.T., 1976: Homer. The Odyssey. Eng. Translation A.T. Murray. Cambridge Mass. Piccirilli, L., 1984: “Il santuario, la funzione guerriera della dea, la regalità: il caso di Atena Chalkioikos”. In M. Sordi (a cura di): i santuari e la guerra nel mondo classico. CISA X. Milano. 3–19. Race, W.H., 1997: Pindar. Olympian Odes. Pythian Odes, Eng. Trans. W.H. Race. Cambridge Mass. / London. Ruskin, J., 1890: The Queen of the Air: Being a Study of the Greek Myths of Cloud and Storm. Orpington/London. Villing, A.C., 1998: “Athena as Ergane and Promachos: The iconography of Athena in Archaic East Greece”. In H. Van Wees (ed.): Archaic Greece: New Approaches and New Evidence. London. 133–147. — 20092: “Some aspects of Athena in the Greek Polis: Sparta and Corinth”. In A.B. Lloyd (ed.): What is a God? Studies in the Nature of Greek Divinity. London/Swansea. 81–100. Wilamowitz-Moellendorf, U. von, 19712: “Athena”. In Kleine Schriften, V 2. Berlin.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Paideia makes the Man A Gendered Approach to the Figure of the Wise Man in Imperial Rome Claudia Horst1

Introduction: wisdom, power, and the search for identity During the Roman Empire, wisdom constituted a form of knowledge that was in strong demand with regard to both political and everyday-practical questions. The high social esteem of the wise man and the increased interest in his counsel were consequences of a sense of societal insecurity that particularly affected the aristocracy.2 The loss of political power that the aristocrats had experienced in the transition from the Republic to the imperial period not only called into question their social status, but also their cultural self-conception as well as old conceptions of masculinity. In consequence of the political changes, it became more difficult for the aristocracy to define their social identity and masculinity in terms of their military achievements, since the monopoly on the use of physical force now rested with the emperor. At the same time, however, the aristocracy was still needed for political and military purposes, since Augustus and the emperors succeeding him were unable to establish a new courtly aristocracy. The co-existence of traditional Republican ranks and the court hierarchies resulted in a relationship between the emperor and the aristocracy that was fraught with competition and rivalry throughout the first two centuries CE.3 Contrary to what is often claimed, however, the aristocracy did not respond to these problems by withdrawing from society.4 Rather, it attempted to re-define its identity and thus to carve out for itself a place in the imperial structures. The aristocracy succeeded in this endeavour especially by embracing Greek paideia, that is, through the Second Sophistic, which developed into the political culture of the imperial period over the course of the first two centuries.5 The Second Sophistic provided a framework within which current contemporary problems could be discussed and was dedicated to questions about the conditions of ideal or legitimate rule, the relationship between Greeks and Romans and about the charac1

I am grateful to Henry Heitmann-Gordon for his help with the translation. The perception of the external world as alien or hostile has been described as a general mental crisis of the 2nd century CE. See Dodds, Pagan and Christian, 20f.; Thodoranova, Marc Aurèle, 435–438. 3 The social and political structures of the Roman Empire have therefore been described as a dyarchy by Winterling, Dyarchie, 177–198; idem, Klio 83 (2001.1) 93–112. 4 See Horst, Marc Aurel, 56–83, 73f., 80f. 5 Schmitz, Bildung und Macht; in 2011, Schmitz again emphasized the social dimension of the Second Sophistic. See Schmitz, The Second Sophistic, 311–312; Whitmarsh, The Second Sophistic; idem, Greek Literature, 2001. 2

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

174

Claudia Horst

teristics that constituted masculinity.6 In what follows I will point out, first, what expectations and habitus were associated with the wise man, in order to establish his relationship to the Second Sophistic. How the representatives of the Second Sophistic imagined the political relationships between emperor and aristocracy and how they succeeded in criticizing existing power relations shall be demonstrated in a second step by studying Seneca’s work de clementia. The last section shall finally establish how old concepts of masculinity were transformed by the new imperial structures and which part philosophy played in this regard. Role models and the habitus of the wise man During the Roman Empire, wisdom was not esoteric knowledge and philosophers did not live on the fringes of society, but were part of a newly transformed social and political elite.7 This elite was by no means limited to Rome, for as Simon Goldhill has emphasized, Greek education linked elites across the Empire.8 With the dominance of the enkuklios paideia – the educational curriculum that so many elite males across the Empire followed – knowing Greek as a language, and knowing Greek culture from Homer onwards became a key sign of belonging among the elite.9 The roles the wise man could assume were exceedingly diverse and sometimes starkly divergent, but at the same time they were embedded in the wider context of the Second Sophistic. 10 He could act as counsellor, scholar, writer, mediator in family conflicts and civil wars, and as praeceptor or paedagogus. In the latter role, he might find employment as a teacher in aristocratic houses or at the imperial court.11 Holding office in the municipal or imperial administration came just as naturally with this role. This becomes particularly evident when looking at the philosophers surrounding Marcus Aurelius. One outstanding example was the Stoic Iunius Rusticus, grandson of a Stoic philosopher executed under Domitian. Iunius Rusticus is not only supposed to have been one of the best connoisseurs of Stoic philosophy, but also a teacher highly appreciated by Marcus Aurelius. Marcus Aurelius kept counsel with Iunius Rusticus in all public and private affairs and honoured him with a second consulate as early as 162; besides, he appointed him praefectus urbi in 168.12 6

Horst, Marc Aurel, 109–138, 142–170. Cancik/Cancik-Lindemaier, Senecas Konstruktion des Sapiens, 210–211. 8 Goldhill, The erotic eye, 180. A close link between paideia and the upper social strata existed already in the Hellenistic period. 9 Goldhill, The erotic eye, 158. 10 Anderson, Sage, Saint and Sophist, 1–2. 11 Hahn, Der Philosoph und die Gesellschaft, 67–85; Schmitz, Bildung und Macht, 50–63. For the different criteria upward mobility depended on in society and at the imperial court, see also Horst, Marc Aurel, 121–138. 12 Hist. Aug. Marc. 3,3–4; dig. 49,1,1,3; CIL III p.1978; VI 858; See also Horst, Marc 7

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Paideia makes the Man

175

The high social status of these philosophers is revealed not only by the high offices they held, but also by their way of living and their outward appearance and habitus.13 It is well-known, for example, that Seneca commanded a great fortune. How the aristocracy employed philosophy in order to buttress and re-define their social status is most impressively visualized in the representative portraits. A new element of representative art was long, shaggy hair and especially the long philosopher’s beard. The beard, which had been carefully avoided in representative paintings because it was deemed ‘un-Roman’ and ‘unmanly’ now turned into a signifier of high social esteem. This transformation in iconography, however, only set in with Hadrian, who was unmistakably distinct from his meticulously combed and clean-shaven predecessor Trajan. And yet the beard, just as the naked chest under the philosopher’s coat, did not point to an actual practice of asceticism. Thus, the sitters were not portrayed in hunched postures on chairs, as used to be the custom for philosophers, but in the upright pose of an aristocrat. The attributes of education were combined in eclectic fashion with the signifiers of civil urbanity, such as the toga.14 As these examples show, aristocrats of the imperial period produced their social status no longer by holding magisterial office as had been the Republican tradition, but also by exhibiting paideia. This development is primarily due to the fact that holding magistracies was risky for aristocrats of the imperial period, since the power they accumulated in office might attract the emperor’s distrust. The aristocracy responded to this new balance of power by wielding paideia as a new tool of social distinction. The great significance paideia gained over the course of the first two centuries CE thus emerges as a result of the social and political changes brought about by the Principate for the aristocracy. The disconcerting impact the principate had on the social status of the aristocracy is apparent from section 15 of Seneca’s De constantia sapientis: “Will he receive no insult if he is hooted through the forum by the vile words of a foul-mouthed crowd? If at a king’s banquet he is ordered to take a place beneath the table and to eat with the slaves assigned to the most disreputable service?”15 Especially during the early imperial period, the imperial court was a space of opportunity for persons of low

Aurel, 128–129; Winterling, Aula Caesaris, 134–135. 13 Anderson, Sage, Saint and Sophist, 43. 14 Zanker, Die Maske des Sokrates, 190–251; idem, Herrscherbild und Zeitgesicht, 308– 309. See also Goldhill, Introduction. Setting an agenda, 7: “Both Lucian and Philostratus see Greek Culture – its establishment, value, maintenance – as a question integral to their intellectual projects, and to the social impact of their writing. Culture – both in the sense of an elite body of learning and in the sense of a way of life, a habitus – is for both an issue that demands discussion.” 15 Sen. de const. sap. 15,1: Non accipiet contumeliam, si obscenorum vocibus improbis per forum agetur? Si in convivio regis recumbere infra mensam vescique cum servis ignominiosa officia sortitis iubebitur? (transl. by John W. Basore). © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

176

Claudia Horst

status, as they were no threat to the emperor. The fact that aristocratic political pedigree was completely ignored at court, in that aristocrats were, as Seneca tells us, treated the same as slaves, must have been experienced as particularly insulting by the upper echelons of Roman society. As Seneca emphasizes at the end of his treatise, however, retreating from society and politics was hardly an adequate response to these insulting experiences.16 Instead, he attempts to aid the educated elite in becoming resistant to insults and injustice by harnessing wisdom. The question as to how one was to respond to an apparently hostile environment becomes increasingly prominent in philosophical discussions of the time. One good example of this dynamic is provided by the Stoic teaching of oikeiosis that provided people with different avenues of world appropriation and hence garnered particular attention in the imperial period.17 In this context, the philosopher was also frequently compared to a physician and the external world, perceived as alien or hostile, was consistently likened to a sick body. In the face of such an environment, the philosopher was supposed to stabilise his pupils through teaching in the same fashion in which a physician would treat a sick body.18 The manifold pressure of these societal dynamics finally explains why the syncretism of different doctrines became a significant characteristic of the Second Sophistic. The polymathie, the ideal of extensive education, demanded that a pepaideumenos possessed mathematical, astronomical and historical knowledge alongside his philosophical education. This ideal of polymathie was also included in representative art. Apart from the philosopher’s beard, the aristocrats made frequent use of numerous other iconographic elements, such as theatre masks, sundials or globes, in order to demonstrate the breadth of their education.19 At the time of the Second Sophistic, the individual disciplines and philosophical schools as well as rhetoric and philosophy were no longer strictly separate. Boundaries were redrawn only in situations of rivalry.20 As Eshleman has pointed out, also the Lives of the Sophists by Philostratus that can easily be perceived as an ultimate definition of who belonged to the circle of sophists preserves nothing more than its author’s partial view. His aim was to create a hospitable context for his own self-identification and to define and legitimate his own position by conjuring up a world into which he fitted perfectly.21 That said, the educated elites would not have been able to produce social distinction through paideia if the knowledge they acquired had not reacted to specific 16

Sen. de const. sap. 19,3. See Horst, Marc Aurel, 56–83. 18 Such a close relationship between philosophy and medical treatment is described by Marcus Aurelius: M. Aur. ad se ipsum 5,9,1; 3,13,1; see also Horst, Marc Aurel, 55–56. 19 Borg, Das Bild des Philosophen, 232–236. 20 See Kasulke, Fronto, 188f., 248f. 21 Eshleman, Defining the circle of Sophists, 125–126, 148. 17

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Paideia makes the Man

177

problems in society and had helped grant people agency. These problems not only included the destabilisation of social hierarchies, but also the impression that one was living in a world that had become confusing. This loss of orientation at times invited the view that this world out of joint was in fact ruled by supernatural powers. This explains why beside wisdom also religious knowledge and even magical practices became an integral part of the Second Sophistic. It was believed that these supernatural forces could be averted only by means of magic. Finally, the trust in magic reflects the loss of agency and how much the elites were suffering under the constraints imposed upon them. The figure of the wise man underwent a marked sacralization already in the course of the first century and was soon hardly distinguishable from the so-called sacred men.22 It was taken for granted that the wise man was able to perform miracles. An example of the close link between the role of the wise man and the sacred man is the figure of Jesus, who at the time was still assigned to the group of magicians alongside faith healers like Apollonios of Tyana. The question whether the miracles performed by Jesus were divine actions and those by Apollonios demonic actions was only to resolved many generations later.23 The following stations were essential biographical landmarks of the wise and the sacred men: their roots were in the urban upper classes, they went through an ascetic phase, for instance in the desert, they were members of a philosophical school and had access to supernatural knowledge. They delivered their messages in prominent spaces and attracted the attention of societal authorities. And as much as the philosophers they were counsellors of rulers and exposers of tyrants as the next section will show. Polemon, for example, is said to have treated cities as subjects, emperors not as rulers, and gods as equals.24 Another outstanding feature of the life of a wise man was the staging of an extraordinary death. Apollonios of Tyana, for instance, is said to have spectacularly staged his self-immolation near Olympia in 165 AD.25 It was this religious context that eventually gave rise to the hope for the One who would judge the world. This hope, in turn, found its distinctive expression in the figure of Jesus, but also in the Jewish expectation of the Messiah.26 The wise men’s critique of domination – on Seneca’s work De Clementia Criticizing rule was a task particularly closely attached to the figure of the wise man. Tying in with the so-called peri basileias-speeches by 5th- and 4th-century 22

Cancik/Cancik-Lindemaier, Senecas Konstruktion des Sapiens, 219–220. See also Fögen, Die Enteignung der Wahrsager, 186–187. 23 Dahlheim, Die Welt zur Zeit Jesu, 301; Fögen, Die Enteignung der Wahrsager, 191. 24 Philostrat. Vita Sophist. 534–535. Sidebottom, Philostratus and the symbolic roles, 98. 25 Schirren, Philosophos bios, 252–254; Cancik/Cancik-Lindemaier, Senecas Konstruktion des Sapiens, 219–220; Anderson, Sage, Saint and Sophist, 1–2. 26 Anderson, Sage, Saint and Sophist, 9. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

178

Claudia Horst

Greek authors, a discourse developed within the Second Sophistic that was deployed by the wise men to bring the limits of his power home to the emperor.27 A central subject of these texts was to contrast tyrannical with monarchical or democratic forms of rule. The speech de clementia, a mirror for princes Seneca addressed to Nero, is an early example of the establishment of this discourse in the first century, to be continued in the works of Dion Chrysostomos, Plutarch, Aelius Aristides and Philostratus, amongst others.28 Clemency (clementia), the text’s titular theme, is here used not only as a virtue, but to designate a specific form of rule expected from the emperor. From the outset, Seneca opposes clemency to cruelty in political contexts, which he sees at work especially in mental and physical brutality. In contrast to cruelty, Seneca defines clemency as the restraint of superiors vis-à-vis subordinates in imposing sentences.29 His further considerations mark the attempt of explaining to Nero why the rule of a king who exercises clemency would ultimately be safer and more successful than the reign of a cruel tyrant.30 Seneca expounds the distinction between the two forms of rule not only by the example of the emperor, but also by reference to the power a father wields over his children, a teacher over his pupils and a general or captain over his soldiers. Thus, a teacher who encourages his pupils would achieve greater learning success than a terrifying teacher whose pupils already falter when reading. A general who is only familiar with crude forms of interaction would produce only deserters and a tyrannical ruler would lose the people’s acceptance because his brutality would prepare the ground for arson and unrest.31 In contrast to tyrannical rule, which cannot but be brief due to the resistance it meets, clement governmental practices promise security. It is a misapprehension to assume that a king is secure only where nothing is secure from the king. Safety, according to Seneca, can only be guaranteed by mutual safety. That is why an emperor can only be spared if he is ready to spare others.32 As the aforementioned examples demonstrate, the demand for clemency was not only connected to a moral but also to a political appeal. The responsive form of exercising power claimed by Seneca was antithetical to forms of tyranny as

27

Eder, Monarchie und Demokratie, 155f.; Matthias Haake distinguishes between the peri basileias-speeches and the so called Fürstenspiegelliteratur on the grounds that the latter do not display a theory of monarchy: “(...) die Figur des Monarchen ist keine eigenständige Konstruktion, sondern ergibt sich allein aus einer Umkehrung des negativen Tyrannenimages.” Haake, Warum und zu welchem Ende schreibt man peri basileias?, 83–138. 28 For a reconstruction of the discourse of the Principate, see also Horst, Marc Aurel, 139– 170. 29 Sen. clem. 2,4,1–3. 30 Sen. clem. 1,25,3. 31 Sen. clem. 1,16,2–3. 32 Sen. clem. 1,19,5–6. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Paideia makes the Man

179

well as to the concept of masculinity associated with it. In order to make it clear to Nero that clemency could indeed be reconciled with masculine norms and his imperial position, Seneca distinguishes clemency from sympathy. He describes sympathy as a deformity of the weakly soul, which is moved by a current experience of suffering, but does not ask for the causes of the suffering. Predominantly old and whiny women let themselves be moved by sympathy.33 Clemency, on the other hand, is characteristic of good men and a consequence of their rational activity. The wise and clement will help and be of use to other people, whereas the sympathetic, who want to be perceived as benefactors, humiliate and disdain the person they purport to help. Since the clement person is predestined for the community, clemency is a basic virtue of the emperor, whose power will bring about honour and glory if it is used for the sake of the people.34 To describe clemency as a community-building virtue is another example how closely related the moral and political arguments actually were. The tyrannical or hierarchical exercise of power by a king is finally discredited by Seneca’s description of fury as effeminate, whereas he emphasizes calm and poise as marks of men and kingship. Seneca tries to strengthen his political demands with an appeal to Nero’s masculinity by rendering the reign of violence unattractive and by describing fury as a female disposition.35 As Seneca’s work “On clemency” illustrates, the criticism of tyrannical structures of rule was a significant element of the wise man’s profile. The sophisticated elites expected the emperor to assert his clemency and express his attention first and foremost in relation to themselves, in order to re-integrate them into the political structures. By consistently confronting the emperor with their expectations for a good ruler, buttressed by the contrast between kingly and tyrannical rule, the aristocrats’ moral writings developed into a political discourse. New concepts of masculinity The aristocratic upper classes used philosophy not only to increase their social and political influence but also to re-adjust their masculinity. By contrast with Republican times, it had become untenable to link ideal masculinity to military achievement, since the emperor was eager to fill powerful positions only with people of a lower societal rank, who were thus directly dependent on his support.36 As our reflections in the previous section already revealed, this re-evaluation of masculinity often went hand in hand with a devaluation of women. Clemency could only become a positive attribute of the Emperor, because Seneca went to such great lengths to distinguish it from compassion, which he painted as a negatively connoted and typically female character trait. 33

Sen. clem. 2,5,1–2. Sen. clem. 2,6,3. 35 Sen. clem. 1,5,2–6. 36 Gleason, Making Men, 159. 34

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

180

Claudia Horst

Given this misogynist backdrop it becomes all the more remarkable that the number of women with literary learning significantly increased under the Principate.37 This change is most conspicuous in the far more commonly occurring depictions of women reading.38 Julia Domna, the wife of Emperor Septimius Severus, was certainly most renowned in this respect. She entertained a literary circle with which Philostratus was associated as well.39 Although women could secure a place for themselves in socially renowned circles, paideia did not amplify women’s options to rise to power in the same manner as it did for men. That is of course in part due to the fact that women could not hold political offices and because men took a great interest in controlling the education of women and the power it now promised. Although Plutarch seems to embrace the education of women, he does so only as long as it does not upset the balance of power in the household. Since he held that it was the responsibility of men to educate their wives, one could argue on the basis of his writings that paideia in fact consolidated the subordinate status of women in the patriarchal oikos.40 Musonius, who likewise commented on women, says that a woman with paideia at her command is more courageous than uneducated men.41 If one considers that the Greek word andreia denotes not only audacity but also masculinity, it follows from Musonius’ statement that paideia was able to make a person not only more courageous but also manlier. Thus, it was possible to criticize women for acting unlike women.42 The impact of this reproach was not purely negative for women, as the statement also implied that paideia could potentially enable them to transcend natural boundaries. An argument based on natural law that prohibited women to acquire paideia and access the circle of the pepaideumenoi, was no longer possible under these conditions. If women transcend their natural boundaries, they “play the man” (ἀνδρίζεσθαι), as Musonius remarked.43 In this context gender found use only as a social category, but not as one based on natural law. Even if women might have perceived the social barriers impeding them from gaining paideia as insurmountable, it was at least not impossible for them to grapple with men for more societal influence. If Musonius denotes educated women as more courageous and manlier 37

Whitmarsh, Greek Literature, 109. For representations of female readers, see Bowie, The Readership of Greek Novels, 437–438; Morgan, Literate education, 48. 39 Hemelrijk, Matrona Docta; Philostrat. VA 1,3. For critical notes on Julia’s circle, see Bowersock, Greek Sophists, 101–109. 40 Plut. Coniugalia praecepta, 145 C–E. 41 Musonius, fr. 3, p. 11. 42 See also Whitmarsh, Greek Literature, 113. 43 Musonius, fr. 4, p. 15. 38

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Paideia makes the Man

181

than uneducated men, this means that men too could prove their masculinity only through the acquisition of paideia. In another context, Plutarch emphasizes that philosophy alone “can array young men in the manly and truly perfect order that comes from reason”.44 Tim Whitmarsh and Maud W. Gleason accordingly tried to encapsulate the process of the social construction of gender with the phrase paideia makes the man.45 How much the new ideal of masculinity was connected to paideia was emphasized by Plutarch in his book “An seni respublica gerenda sit” where logos is directly correlated with phallus. Plutarch tries to explain why a certain representation of Hermes should justify old men’s participation in politics: “And that is the reason why they make the older Hermae without hands or feet, but with their private parts stiff, indicating figuratively that there is no need whatsoever of old men who are active by their body’s use, if they keep their mind, as it should be, active and fertile.”46 Plutarch constructs a connection between logos and phallus, inasmuch as both are described as “fertile and productive.”47 The instrumentalization of gender issues in the struggle for social prestige was also highlighted by Lucian in many of his writings. The close relationship is illustrated by the story about an encounter between the philosopher Demonax and the rhetorician Favorinus. After a speech, Demonax made fun of Favorinus and reproached him for his talk that had been too effeminate and by no means appropriate to philosophy. Within the mutual repartee Favorinus first tries to ridicule Demonax for the poor education allegedly typical of Cynics. However, Demonax soon gains the upper hand. To Favorinus’ question as to how he came to philosophy Demonax replies that he simply had the nuts it takes.48 To understand this statement one has to know that the rhetorician Favorinus was a eunuch and was thus prevented by his lack of testicles from having a deep voice or wearing the beard expected of a philosopher. As we saw in the first section, however, the beard was considered indicative of a person’s intellectuality, their high social status, and their masculinity. Against this background, Demonax’ answer clarifies, how gender issues could be instrumentalized in order to disqualify a rival. During the conversation, Favorinus was stigmatized with regard to rhetoric as well as to the general ideal of masculinity. 44

Plutarch, De auditu 37f. Whitmarsh, Greek Literature, 109–116; Gleason, Making Men, 131–137. 46 διὸ καὶ τῶν Ἑρμῶν τοὺς πρεσβυτέρους ἄχειρας καὶ ἄποδας ἐντεταμένους δὲ τοῖς μορίοις δημιουργοῦσιν, αἰνιττόμενοι τῶν γερόντων ἐλάχιστα δεῖσθαι διὰ τοῦ σώματος ἐνεργούντων, ἐὰν τὸν λόγον ἐνεργόν, ὡς προσήκει, καὶ γόνιμον ἔχωσιν. Plut. An seni respublica gerenda sit 797f. 47 Whitmarsh, Greek Literature, 114. 48 Lucian, Demon. 12; Gleason, Making Men, 136. 45

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

182

Claudia Horst

Summary By way of conclusion, it can be said that paideia responded to a political and mental crisis that the aristocratic elites in particular had to cope with in the transition from the Republic to the imperial period. Due to its loss of political power, the aristocracy could no longer establish their social status solely by holding magistracies. Under these circumstances, they discovered paideia as a new medium in their struggle for social prestige. Paideia also functioned as a surrogate for military achievements, which had fuelled the construction of masculinity in earlier times. During the Principate, the aristocracy made use of the wide field of paideia in order to develop a new definition of masculinity. Gender, however, was used to distance potential rivals and, not insignificantly, women. Finally, paideia and the wisdom related to it was a suitable medium to criticize the tyrannical structures depriving the aristocracy of their political power. To counteract this loss, the educated upper classes constantly used learning to confront the emperors with their expectations. They called on the emperor to establish reciprocal power structures within which the old aristocracies could secure a place for themselves. In this context, they were also trying to re-define their social identity and to construct a new ideal of masculinity that even the emperor had difficulty rejecting. Sources Abbreviations: LCL = Loeb Classical Library; BT = Bibliotheca Teubneriana Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, ad se ipsum (BT), ed. J. Dalfen. Leipzig 1979, 2., verbesserte Auflage 1987. C. Musonius Rufus, Reliquiae (BT), ed. O. Hense. Leipzig 1990 [1905]. Lucian, Demonax (LCL), vol. 1, ed. T.E. Page, E. Capps, W.H.D. Rouse et al., transl. A.M. Harmon. London, Cambridge (Mass.) 1913 [1961]. Philostratus and Eunapius, The Lives of the Sophists (LCL), ed. T.E. Page, E. Capps, W.H.D. Rouse et al., transl. W.C. Wright. London, Cambridge (Mass.) 1961 [1921]. Plutarch, Moralia (LCL), vol. 1, ed. G.P. Goold, transl. F.C. Babbitt, London, Cambridge (Mass.) 1986 [1927]; vol. 2, ed. T.E. Page, E. Capps, W.H.D. Rouse et al., transl. F.C. Babbitt. London, Cambridge (Mass.) 1962 [1928]; vol. 10, ed. G.P. Goold, transl. H.N. Fowler. London, Cambridge (Mass.) 1991 [1936]. Scriptores Historiae Augustae (LCL), vol. 1, ed. T.E. Page, E. Capps, W.H.D. Rouse et al., transl. D. Magie. Cambridge 1960 [1921]. Seneca, Moral Essays (LCL), vol. 1, ed. T.E. Page, E. Capps, W.H.D. Rouse et al., transl. J.W. Basore. London, Cambridge (Mass.) 1963 [1921].

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Paideia makes the Man

183

Bibliography Anderson, G., 1994: Sage, Saint and Sophist. Holy Men and their Associates in the Early Roman Empire. London / New York. Borg, B., 2009: “Das Bild des Philosophen und die römischen Eliten”. In H.-G. Nesselrath (ed.): Dion von Prusa. Der Philosoph und sein Bild. Tübingen. Pp. 211–240. Bowersock, G.W., 1969: Greek Sophists in the Roman Empire. Oxford. Bowie, E.L., 1994: “The Readership of Greek Novels in the Ancient World”. In J. Tatum (ed.): The Search for the Ancient Novel. Baltimore. Pp. 435–459. Cancik, H. / Cancik-Lindemaier, H., 1991: “Senecas Konstruktion des Sapiens. Zur Sakralisierung der Rolle des Weisen im 1. Jh. n.Chr.”. In Aleida Assmann (ed.): Weisheit. Archäologie der literarischen Kommunikation III. München. Pp. 205–222. Dahlheim, W., 2014 [2013]: Die Welt zur Zeit Jesu, 2. Aufl. München. Dodds, E.-R., 1965: Pagan and Christian in an Age of Anxiety. Some Aspects of Religious Experience from Marcus Aurelius to Constantine. Cambridge. Eder, W., 1995: “Monarchie und Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v.Chr. Die Rolle des Fürstenspiegels in der athenischen Demokratie”. In idem (ed.): Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v.Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform? Akten eines Symposiums 3.–7. August 1992. Stuttgart. Pp. 153– 173. Eshleman, K., 2008: “Defining the circle of Sophists. Philostratus and the construction of the Second Sophistic”. Pp. 125–148 (Downloaded from https:// www.cambridge.org/core. LMU München, on 23 Apr 2017). Fögen, M.Th., 1993: Die Enteignung der Wahrsager. Studien zum kaiserlichen Wissensmonopol in der Spätantike. Frankfurt am Main. Gleason, M.W., 1995: Making Men. Sophists and Self-Presentation in Ancient Rome. Princeton. Goldhill, S., 2001: “The erotic eye. Visual stimulation and cultural conflict”. In idem (ed.): Being Greek under Rome. Cultural Identity, the Second Sophistic and the Development of Empire. Cambridge. Pp. 154–194. — 2001: “Introduction. Setting an agenda: ‘Everything is Greece to the wise’”. In idem (ed.): Being Greek under Rome. Cultural Identity, the Second Sophistic and the Development of Empire. Cambridge. Pp. 1–25. Haake, M., 2003: “Warum und zu welchem Ende schreibt man peri basileias? Überlegungen zum historischen Kontext einer literarischen Gattung im Hellenismus”. In Karen Piepenbrink (ed.): Philosophie und Lebenswelt in der Antike. Darmstadt. Pp. 83–138. Hahn, J., 1989: Der Philosoph und die Gesellschaft. Selbstverständnis, öffentliches Auftreten und populäre Erwartungen in der hohen Kaiserzeit. Stuttgart. Hemelrijk, E.A., 1999: Matrona Docta. Educated women in the Roman élite from Cornelia to Julia Domna. London.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

184

Claudia Horst

Horst, C., 2013: Marc Aurel. Philosophie und politische Macht zur Zeit der Zweiten Sophistik. Stuttgart. Kasulke, Ch.T., 2005: Fronto, Marc Aurel und kein Konflikt zwischen Rhetorik und Philosophie im 2. Jh. n.Chr. München/Leipzig. Morgan, T., 1998: Literate education in the Hellenistic and Roman worlds. Cambridge. Schirren, Th., 2005: Philosophos bios. Die antike Philosophenbiographie als symbolische Form. Studien zur “Vita Apollonii” des Philostrat. Heidelberg. Schmitz, Th.A., 2011: “The Second Sophistic”. In Michael Peachin (ed.): The Oxford Handbook of Social Relations in the Roman World. Oxford. Pp. 304–316. — 1997: Bildung und Macht. Zur sozialen und politischen Funktion der zweiten Sophistik in der griechischen Welt der Kaiserzeit. München. Sidebottom, H., 2009: “Philostratus and the symbolic roles of the sophist and philosopher”. In Ewen Bowie / Jaś Elsner (eds.): Philostratus. Cambridge. Pp. 68–99. Thodoranova, V., 1972: “Marc Aurèle – ξένος κόσμου”. In Actes de la XIIe Conférence Internationale d’Études Classiques. Eirene, 2.–7. Octobre. Pp. 435– 438. Whitmarsh, T., 2005: The Second Sophistic. Oxford. — 2001: Greek Literature and the Roman Empire. The Politics of Imitation. New York. Winterling, A., 2005: “Dyarchie in der römischen Kaiserzeit. Vorschlag zur Wiederaufnahme der Diskussion”. In Wilfried Nippel / Bernd Seidensticker (eds.): Theodor Mommsens langer Schatten. Das römische Staatsrecht als bleibende Herausforderung für die Forschung. Hildesheim / Zürich / New York. Pp. 177–198. — 2001.1: “‘Staat’, ‘Gesellschaft’ und politische Integration in der römischen Kaiserzeit”. Klio 83, 93–112. — 1999: Aula Caesaris. Studien zur Institutionalisierung des römischen Kaiserhofes in der Zeit von Augustus bis Commodus (31 v.Chr. – 192 n.Chr.). München. Zanker, P., 1995: Die Maske des Sokrates. Das Bild des Intellektuellen in der antiken Kunst. München. — 1982: “Herrscherbild und Zeitgesicht”. Jahresinhaltsverzeichnis der wissenschaftlichen Zeitschrift der Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin 31.1–6, 307–312.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples Kordula Schnegg1

Gametri¢a meìn wÕn kaiì a¦riqmhtika£ kaiì taÃlla ta£ qewrhtika£ kaiì e¹pisth¤mai kaiì periì tw¤n e¹o¢ntwn katasxole¢ontai, a¥ deì sofi¢a periì pa¢nta ta£ ge¢nh tw¤n e¹o¢ntwn. ouÐtwj ga£r eÃxei sofi¢a peri£ pa¢nta taì e¹o¢nta (…).2

“So geometry and arithmetic and other theoretical things and sciences study what exists, but wisdom is concerned with every type of thing that exists. For thus wisdom is concerned with everything that exists (…).”3 1. Introduction: Perictione on Wisdom Stobaeus (5th century AD) attributes general considerations on wisdom and on wisdom’s distinction from theoretical knowledge to a certain female, Perictione.4 The fragment that has come down to us from this late ancient author in his Anthologicum bears the indication Periktio¯nhj Puqagorei¢aj Periì sofi¢aj; it is known in scholarship as “About Wisdom.” The text, which is written in Doric dialect5, contains markedly theoretical features, in which wisdom is defined as the comprehensive way of looking at things: Accordingly, wisdom provides the purpose of all living beings and all things to be entirely discerned, whereas with the help of the sciences, the kosmos, for instance, may be only partially discerned. Indeed, wisdom rises above every other form of knowledge. The sage is capable of recognizing everything, even the divine.6 The text’s subject matter is thematically unique to the extent that it is the circle of women Pythagoreans who first and foremost have handed down treatises on

1

I’d like to thank Sebastian Fink and Stéphanie Anthonioz for accepting this article in the publication. For hints I thank Martin Lang. For the translation of the article from German into English I thank Laurie Cohen. 2 Stob. 1,63,121. The Greek text here and in the following is cited in Thesleff, 1965: 146, who in this excerpt points out overlapping content with De sapientia, written by the Pythagorean Archytas (4th century BC); similarly Plant (ed.), 2004: 76. 3 English translation cited by Plant (ed.), 2004: 78. 4 Stob. 1,62−63,120−121. 5 Plant (ed.), 2004: 76, Frede, 2000. 6 Stob. 1,63,120: (…) ouâtoj dokeiÍ kaiì sofw¯tatoj eiånai kaiì a¦lhqe¢statoj, eÓti deì kaiì kala£n skopia£n a¦neurhke¢nai, a¦f¡ aÒj dunato£j e¦sseiÍtai to¢n te qeo£n kato¢yesqai kai£ pa¢nta taì e¹n t#¤ sustoixi¢# te kaiì ta¢cei t#¤ e¹kei¢nw katakexwrisme¢na. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

186

Kordula Schnegg

oikonomia (home economics).7 This fact has led scholars into controversial discussions, including regarding the authorship of “About Wisdom.” Thus, for example, Zoepffel (2006) and Frede (2006) suggest that Perictione is the pseudonym of a Pythagorean author who is said to have chosen this specific alias in order to signal the text’s philosophical orientation.8 By contrast, other scholars specializing on women in the antiquities suggest the author is a historical person actually named Perictione: Plant (2004), for example, reviews the text as a product of a woman of letters and female philosopher; Waithe (1987), too, reviews Perictione as a woman philosopher and late Pythagorean.9 The perspective pursued here similarly assumes that the text originates from a woman, despite the fact that Iamblichus (3rd to 4th century AD) did not list Perictione among the known Pythagorean women. Stobaeus, however, did report on her.10 Thanks to Stobaeus we have scant information about Perictione as well as her doctrine on wisdom. No other concrete indications exist in the written record to suggest this author’s name, Perictione, is a pseudonym. In fact, the Pythagorean School accepted women as both students and teachers.11 Why ever would they not also have used texts to disseminate their teachings?12 The temporal categorization of our text can be understood only approximately and in connection with existing Pythagorean writings: namely, between the 4th century BC and the 1st century AD.13 Pythagoreanism, which was keenly present in Rome as from the 3rd to 2nd century BC, has provided an array of records in which women are represented as

7

As established, for example, by Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2000a, Reuthner 2009. The reasoning goes as follows: Perictione was the name of Plato’s mother, who reportedly was somewhat close to Pythagoreanism. With the choice of the name Perictione, according to Zoepffel, 2006: 287, one wanted to signal the connection between Pythagoreanism and Platonism. Zoepffel, 2006: 287 points to a trend in scholarship that views all Pythagorean writings by women authors as the products of male authors, and yet she questions this trend herself on the very next page (p. 288). 9 Plant (ed.), 2004: 77–78, Waithe, 1987: 55–57. Similarly Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2000a, 2000b and Reuthner, 2009, relating to handed down texts that identify late Pythagorean women as their authors. Cf. Waithe, 1987: 55. A further point of discussion is the classification of a fragment “On the Harmony of Women” that equally identifies a certain Perictione as its (female) author. This text is said to be dated earlier and the author could be classified as Plato’s mother; see Thesleff, 1965: 142, Waithe, 1987, Plant (ed.), 2004:76. 10 In his Life of Pythagoras, Iamblichus listed known male representatives (218) and female representatives (17) of Pythagoreanism (Iamb. VP 36, 267). 11 Iamb. VP 36, 267; see as well Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2000b: 163, Reuthner, 2009: 419. 12 For example, Reuthner, 2009: 424.433.434−437. 13 For example, Reuthner, 2009: 419, Zoepffel, 2006: 287, Plant (ed.), 2004: 76, HarichSchwarzbauer, 2000b: 162. 8

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples

187

sages.14 In their lives of philosophers or their collections of texts,15 late ancient authors such as Iamblichus and Stobaeus draw our attention to the fact that certain women in the Roman literature were referred to as a sage or had attributes of wisdom. Perictione’s case concerns an exclusive, philosophical circle. Specifically, the handed down record on ancient philosophy offers a particularly attractive and – due to our markedly western oriented tradition of knowledge – familiar area of research for seeking out female and male sages.16 Before turning to specific case studies that describe female sages in Roman literature (section 3), it is helpful to briefly address concepts of sages in the Graeco-Roman world. In this context, special attention is paid to the research of Kerferd (1990) and Fiore (1990) on sages in Hellenistic and Roman literature (section 2).17 2. Reflection on sages, or wise men/women in the Graeco-Roman world Let me first make clear that the terms “sage” and “wise” are used interchangeably in my discussions on Roman literature;18 I am of course well aware that these two English terms sometimes identify divergent concepts of wise persons in Ancient Oriental Studies.19 Greek and Latin, both of which were spoken in the Roman Empire as literary languages, have distinct terms for identifying sages: i.e., “sophos” or “phronimos” in Greek or a characterization with “sapientia/sapiens”20 or “prudentia/prudens” in Latin. Concrete concepts of “being wise” are documented quite early in Greek history, as Kerferd (1990) has shown. As Sophistry emerged in 5th century BC, the perspective became broader.21 If people who had special talents were previ14

Romans in the 4th century AD, following a prophecy of the Oracle of Delphi, are said to have erected an effigy of wise Pythagoras on the Comitium (Plin. HN 34,12,26). 15 On the significance of the genre of philosopher’s lives in Late Antiquity, see for example Hartmann, 2006, Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2000b. 16 For a critical discussion on western traditions of thought, see for example Foucault, 1966 (postmodern approach) or Burke, 2000 and 2012 (epistemological approach). 17 For male sages in Roman literature see also the chapter by Claudia Horst in this volume. 18 Similarly Annas, 2008 in “The Sage in Ancient Philosophy.” 19 See, for example, the lemma “Weiser (sage)” in RlA (Fechner, 2016: 46); the differentiation is based on the placing of the protagonists in space and time (mytho, mytho-historical sage and terrestrial scholar, savant, wise vizier); or Perdue’s explanations (2008: VII) in his introduction to Scribes, Sages, and Seers in the Eastern Mediterranean World (the differentiation is oriented according to the female or male protagonist’s social position). 20 Cic. Tusc. 1,1 establishes the connection to the Greek as follows: […] studio sapientiae, quae philosophia dicitur […]. 21 See Kerferd, 1990: 319, who names this turn the “Sophistic Movement.” Cicero recorded a similar caesura in his Tusculanae Disputationes, by connecting Socrates to a new orientation of thinking. According to Cicero, it would have been Socrates who “called philosophy down from the heavens,” who brought philosophy into the cities and made it philosophy’s task to instruct people about mores as well as about good and evil. (Tusc. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

188

Kordula Schnegg

ously seen as sages – having, for instance, “knowledge of physical science or things divine, or in the practice of poetry, or in the possession of political skill and wisdom”22 – as of the 5th century BC, the Sophists increasingly became identified as the “purveyors of wisdom”23 in their community, as Kerferd (1990) explains:24 •

•

•

The Sophists are in charge of the education of the citizen’s descendants, who receive instructions for example in the fields of philosophy and rhetoric. This connection between wisdom and eloquence in speech in the education of the “ideal” citizen can also be found in Roman literature.25 Furthermore, they conceptualize the wise man as a philosopher, who is distinguished due to his knowledge of the truth. In the Greek and later also in the Roman world, the wise man as philosopher secures a dominant position as the one to clarify matters about wisdom, knowledge and the right way to live. Finally, from the Hellenistic period onwards, the concept of the sage is increasingly connected to the concept of the ideal person.26 As a result, two types of sages are to be considered for the investigation of wise men/women in the Hellenistic-Roman period: namely, “the sage as philosopher” (“sophos”) and “the sage regarded as the ideal for humans” (“phronimos”), which Fiore (1990) refers to as a “sage in practical affairs.”27

These Graeco-Hellenistic ideas of sages and wise men/women find equivalents in Roman literature too, which after all have many correlations to Greek literature and to the Graeco-Hellenistic world.28 3. Case studies In the following I locate indications of sage women in various historical contexts and different literary genres, whereby I also focus on the link between wisdom and knowledge (section 3.1) and wisdom and prophecy (section 3.2).29

5,10: Socrates autem primus philosophiam devocavit e caelo et in urbibus collocavit et in domus etiam introduxit et coegit de vita et moribus rebusque bonis et malis quaerere). 22 Kerferd, 1990: 319. 23 Kerferd, 1990: 319. 24 Kerferd, 1990: 319–320. 25 See for example Cic. Tusc. 1,1 (“prudentia cum eloquentia”). 26 Kerferd, 1990: 320. 27 Kerferd, 1990: 320.324–326, Fiore, 1990: 329. 28 For a general conception of sages in various literary genres of the Hellenistic-Roman era, see also Fiore, 1990. 29 It should be pointed out here that the finding of corresponding indications in the ancient texts is generally determined by the (in)visibility of female persons in ancient texts. Harris, 1990: 3–4 and Harris, 2000: 147–148 observed similar things in Mesopotamian literature. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples

189

3.1. Sophisticated women These case studies deal with the description of five historical persons,30 who were active at different times and in different places within the Roman Republic / Roman Empire. They are all members of the social elite, well educated; they demonstrate a particular cleverness in their dealings. 3.1.1. Female sages in public space In the first three examples, I investigate women whose public appearances are highlighted in the literature. The speech of Hortensia in the History of Appian of Alexandria Appian (2nd century AD) reports in the fourth book of the Civil Wars the following: In 43–42 BC, the Triumvirs (M. Antony, M. Aemilius Lepidus, Octavian) prepare for war against Caesar’s murderers; yet they lack sufficient financial means and thus attempt to tax the richest women of Rome. In this situation, Hortensia is said to have gone public to protect the noble women from this measure. Appian depicts Hortensia making a speech at the Forum, and it is this speech that forms the core of my analysis:31 With a well-reasoned demeanor, Hortensia begins by explaining that all the possible avenues of action available to women in Rome have been exhausted.32 She insists that a crisis has arisen which forces her to address the Forum: namely, that most male relatives had become victims of political persecution at the hands of the Triumvirs and, accordingly, no man could speak publicly on the women’s behalf. Thus, it was incumbent on Hortensia to do so. She makes it clear that since women (officially) were unable to position themselves politically (either for or against the Triumvirs), they therefore cannot be punished by taxation (in accordance with the proscriptions of political opponents). To tax female Romans merely because of war – and especially not a civil war – does not correspond to the customs. It is consequently improper to physically pressure women to have their property assessed for taxation. Appian then describes the Triumvirs as being incensed by these words. It is incomprehensible to these three potentates that women should assemble, elect a spokesperson and announce their demands at the Forum, while the remaining men remained silent.33 Consequently, the Triumvirs want to have the women expelled 30 The question about the real-life conditions of these women has been addressed over the last decades, especially in the framework of women’s and gender history. In particular, individual female protagonists’ room of maneuver and participation in political power are in the forefront of the analyses. 31 App. BC 4,32–5,33. 32 Prior to the speech itself, the reader learns that the women first turned to the female relatives of the Triumvirs in order to have them speak on their behalf, but no such women came forward (App. BC 4,32). 33 App. BC 5,34.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

190

Kordula Schnegg

from the Forum. But because the people who assembled there sided with the women’s concerns, they are prevented from carrying it out.34 Nevertheless, it is eventually decided to tax rich Roman women, albeit to a lesser extent.35 The female figure whom Appian prominently invokes in his work is a historical figure. In a parallel written record, it is confirmed that a certain Hortensia was lived at the time of the Triumvirs. Her father was the famous rhetorician Quintus Hortensius Hortalus,36 who probably instructed his daughter in oratory. Valerius Maximus (1st century AD) reports for example that Hortensia impressed people with her oratory.37 He also emphasizes two aspects that have no bearing for Appian: namely, her family milieu (Hortensia’s father was a famous orator, who lived on through his daughter’s talent) and the fact that Hortensia was female (despite being a woman, she could win people over with her rhetoric). It is a subject of scholarly debate whether Hortensias’ speech, which Appian refers to in his History, is fictitious or based on concrete textual passages (possibly on Hortensia herself). 38 Independently of the question of sources, however, it should be emphasized that Appian here has sketched an actual situation that requires at least one educated woman to wisely perform in public. Appian’s Hortensia is trained in rhetoric. She chooses her words with sophistication and her speech is well thought-out: she indicates her initial situation, makes references to Rome’s history and to Roman customs, and makes comparisons to the political situations of earlier times. While Hortensia ostensibly represents the interests of the female aristocrats in this scenario, given Appian’s description of the civil wars, she is also counted among the few protagonists who publicly criticize the Triumvirs’ policies. 39 According to Appian’s written record, Hortensia is described as a sage in practical affairs. Hypatia and Sosipatra in Lives of Philosophers Hypatia of Alexandria (4th–5th century AD), a representative of neo-Platonism, is among the most well-known philosophically educated women in Graeco-Roman antiquity.40 Hypatia grew up in a family milieu which nurtured scientific thinking.

34

App. BC 5,35. App. BC 5,35. 36 Cf. Cic. Off. 3,73–74. 2,57. 37 Indeed Val. Max. 8,3,3, points out: revixit tum muliebri stirpe Q. Hortensius verbisque filiae aspiravit. 38 Cf., for example, most recently Hopwood, 2015. 39 In Hortensia’s speech the space designated for women – because in the last analysis this is what the issue of taxation is really about – is instrumentalized in order to criticize the policies of the potentates. Cf. Schnegg, 2006: 47–55. 40 Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2000:166, considers Hypatia’s posthumous fame as also due to her being highlighted within the “pagan” tradition as a counter example to the Christian 35

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples

191

Her father was the well-known mathematician Theon of Alexandria.41 According to what has been handed down about Hypatia, she was instructed in mathematics, astronomy and philosophy; indeed, she practiced philosophy herself.42 She gave public lectures and wrote texts which, however, have not survived.43 Damascius (6th century AD) describes her in the Life of Isidore as educated, eloquent, dialectically skillful, levelheaded and politically minded.44 These qualities are said to have brought her a sizeable reputation in Alexandria, such that even civil servants, among others, sought her out for discussions.45 Hypatia is also said to have been honest, celibate and a virgin.46 Damascius, accordingly, precisely from the perspective of her sexual abstinence ascribes her as a philosophical ideal, in which sexual desires must be controlled and which ultimately lead to celibacy.47 Hypatia’s sexual abstinence is something even more particular to the extent that descriptions of philosophically educated women usually point out their roles as spouse and mother.48 Thus Hypatia, as recorded by Damascius, exhibits essential features of the late antiquity ideal of philosophers. These, according to Hartmann (2006), include: gentility, virtue, asceticism, outstanding education, wisdom, outer beauty, inner perfection, occasional miraculous deeds and a god-like aura.49 Yet wise Hypatia’s end is tragic. According to Damascius, she is brutally beaten by a throng of Christians in Alexandria.50 The female neo-Platonist Sosipatra (4th century AD; active in Cappadocia and Pergamon) is characterized in a similarly prominent way in Eunapius of Sardes’ ideal of the educated woman; the same is true for Sosipatra. 41 Gély, 2013: 525. 42 A list of ancient sources on Hypatia can be found for example in Gély, 2013: 525–526. A discussion of Hypatia from Synesius of Cyrene (a contemporary and disciple of Hypatia) from a feminist perspective is provided for example by Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2002 (with biographical details on Hypatia on pages 98–99). 43 Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2002: 98–99 speaks in this context of the ‘dismemberment’ of ‘ancient female philosophers and women teachers of wisdom’ by ‘the literary monuments of the Greek and Latin authors.’ 44 Dam. Isid. 31,34–35; 32,2.33. 45 Dam. Isid. 32,33. 46 Dam. Isid. 32,2. 47 Hartmann, 2006: 46: Compared to Christian ascetics, “pagan” philosophers remained actively rooted to their community. 48 See Hartmann, 2006: 71. 49 Hartmann, 2006, 46: The philosopher as ‘a holy man’ (qeiÍoj a¦nh¢r). Such concepts arise in late antiquity as ways of confronting Christian teachings. Lives of philosophers, which are a main source for Late Antiquity philosophers, are designed in part as deliberate dissociation from Christian hagiography and as an overture to “pagan” readership: see Hartmann, 2006: 44–46.54–59, and Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2000b. 50 Dam. Isid. 32,37. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

192

Kordula Schnegg

Lives of Philosophers and Sophists.51 In contrast to Hypatia, however, Sosipatra is distinguished not only for her intellectual skills – according to Eunapius, she is said to have been much more philosophically talented than her husband Eusthatius52 – but also for her prophetic talents.53 Eunapius models Sosipatra as the ideal “woman philosopher,” who is endowed with divine talents and has philosophical and theurgic knowledge. 54 Eunapius reports that Sosipatra was acknowledged during her lifetime and had a good reputation among philosophers. For Damascius and Eunapius, respectively, Hypatia and Sosipatra, are famous and prominent female philosophers, who however have not yet achieved the genius of the likes of Isidor or Plotin, but still outshine other (male) philosophers.55 In the sources, Hypatia and Sosipatra are counted as female neo-Platonists. Still, they represent different approaches. Whereas Hypatia’s philosophy appears to be strictly rational, Eunapius’ Sosipatra exhibits a religio-theurgic sophia.56 The written record includes additional wise women of Late Antiquity, who were educated in philosophy and also active.57 These all worked in the provinces of the Roman Empire. For the city, Rome, however, we are missing testimonies of “female philosophers” who were active in public there, as Harich-Schwarzbauer emphasizes.58 Yet the literature most definitely points to philosophically educated women in Rome, who applied their knowledge and activities for example in family milieus, as the following two examples transmitted by Roman imperial author Plutarch of Chaeronea demonstrate. 3.1.2. Examples of virtuous wives by Plutarch Plutarch of Chaeronea (1st to 2nd century AD) is known to posterity among other things for his philosophical reflections on proper behavior, something he emphasized in numerous texts. In Mulierum Virtutes (Concerning the Virtues of Women), Plutarch addresses for example the virtuous behavior of women based on various women protagonists, who appear both as collectives and individuals.59 51

Eunapius’ Vitae philosophorum et sophistarum is scholarship’s main source of the life and work of Sosipatra. In this work she is dealt more in detail in the framework of the discussion on Eusthatius (Eun. VS 6,6,5–6,9,17). 52 Eun. VS 6,6,5. 53 Eun. VS 6,6,6–6,9,17; see as well Hartmann, 2006: 59–60.70. 54 Hartmann, 2006: 70–71. 55 Hartmann, 2006: 71. 56 Penella, 1990: 61 in his study formulates the idea that Eunapius’ use of theurgic Sosipatra is deliberate in order to set up a contrast with the rational Hypatia (“Did the Sardian Eunapius have Hypatia in mind in writing his full and flattering sketch of Sosipatra, intending her to be understood as an Asianic answer to the Alexandria’s female sage?”). 57 See Hartmann, 2006 and Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2000. 58 Harich-Schwarzbauer, 2000a: 869. 59 Along with Valeria and Cloelia there are two additional mythic women figures from © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples

193

The virtuous behavior of women is also expounded in Parallel Lives: here, however, this is always in relation to the main protagonists of the respective biography.60 The next paragraphs focus on two female figures in Parallel Lives, who are described by Plutarch as being particularly virtuous in difficult life situations. Plutarchsʼ Cornelia Cornelia, the daughter of Q. Caecilius Metellus Pius Scipio Nasica (cos. 52 BC), was first married to P. Licinius Crassus. Like his father (Triumvir M. Licinius Crassus), P. Licinius Crassus died in the battle of Carrhae (53 BC). The young widow – according to Plutarch – immediately thereafter became the fifth and last wife of Cn. Pompeius Magnus.61 Plutarch discusses Cornelia in the Life of Pompey exclusively as regards her role as the spouse of Caesar’s great opponent. He describes her as young and beautiful, endowed with many charms, and as extremely learned in literature, music and mathematics.62 She read, understood philosophical texts and could deal amazingly well with them. According to Plutarch: “(…) she had a nature which was free from that unpleasant officiousness which such accomplishments are apt to impart to young women.”63 At the end of the Life of Pompey we find out additionally that Cornelia remained faithful to her husband up until his downfall. After the battle of Pharsalus (48 BC) she traveled with her stepson Sex. Pompeius to Mytilene, in order to meet her husband there.64 Plutarch dramatically sets up the encounter between the married pair: A messenger informs Cornelia in advance about the defeat against Caesar, whereupon she breaks down. Yet she is able to regain her countenance and realize that now was not the time to lament.65 Thus it is in this consolidated emotional situation that Cornelia meets her husband. Plutarch drafts a speech, in which Cornelia describes herself as her husband’s misfortune (and thus as the cause of Pompey’s political defeat). It would probably have been “wise” – exactly as she had planned – to depart this life voluntarily after the death of her first husband.66 Rome in the catalogue (example 14). 60 Life portraits – according to Plutarch – are what he wants to trace in his Parallel Lives (Plu. Alex. 1,2). With this goal in mind, the author structures his story regarding the persons involved. 61 Plu. Pomp. 55,2–3. Plutarch mentions the great age difference between the married couple in this context in order to emphasize that the young bride would rather have better suited one of Pompey’s two sons. 62 Appian also reports on Cornelia’s beauty in his historical text (App. BC 12,83). 63 Plu. Pomp. 55,2, as translated into English by B. Perrin (1917). 64 Cf. the parallel reports by Appian and Cassius Dio (2nd–3rd century AD), which defer in details. App. BC 12,83 (only Cornelia is taken along; she must observe the murder from afar: App. BC 12,85); D.C. 42,2,3 (Cornelia and Sex. Pompeius are both taken along.) 65 Plu. Pomp. 74. 66 Plu. Pomp.74. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

194

Kordula Schnegg

But now she has hurled misfortune to Pompey. Yet he then makes clear that one must also bear awful times. Cornelia, together with Pompey and his son, escapes to Egypt. There, her husband, once a powerful Roman, will be treacherously murdered.67 Cornelia distinguished herself in her gentility68 and good education. She knew how to apply her knowledge and education skillfully. She succeeded in posthumous literary fame via Plutarch, because she remained loyal to her husband – despite the political circumstances – even after his death.69 Plutarchʼs Porcia ¡Egw¯, Brou¤te, Ka¯twnoj ouÅsa quga¯thr (…) “Brutus, I am Catoʼs daughter (…)”70 This is how Porcia begins her speech, in order to convince her husband, M. Iunius Brutus, of her integrity. There appears to be a secret standing in the couple’s way, and Porcia wants to demonstrate to her husband here that she is trustworthy. Her actions are not driven by curiosity but rather by her desire to participate in her husband’s political life.71 Porcia, in order to illustrate her virtuousness, points out in her speech her gentility (she belongs after all to the Catones) and relativizes her female sex, to the extent that she points out her character, which reflects a good upbringing and social interaction (her father is Cato Minor, who liked to surround himself with Stoics and is considered extremely honest).72 In conclusion, Porcia emphasizes again that she is Cato’s daughter and Brutus’ wife. At this point it is Brutus’ turn to speak. Upon learning that Porcia had recently suffered from a selfinflicted bodily injury, done in order to convince him of her constancy, he decides to entrust her with his secret (the plan to murder Caesar). He hopes to be success67

Plu. Pomp. 81. D.C. 42,5,7 reports that Cornelia, together with Sex. Pompeius, can flee from Egypt. Cornelia returns safely to Rome (as the widow of the defeated), whereas Sextus made his way to his brother Gnaeus to the province of Africa. Cf. Vell. 2,53.54. 68 The political importance of her familia becomes clear not least from the preserved honorary inscriptions in Pergamon for her father (therein praised as autokrator) and for herself (praised as well-disposed towards the demos). On the inscriptions see Fränkel, 1895: 287 (no. 411) and 288 (no. 412). 69 Plu. Pomp. 81: Cornelia brings the remains of the dead to Albanum. On the similarities between Pompey’s two last wives, Julia and Cornelia (both young, beautiful, educated, loyal to their spouses), as Plutarch describes them in Life of Pompey, see Haley 1985, 56– 59. The similarities may be historically in many aspects, but they are used by Plutarch to develop Pompey’s figure (according to Plutarch, a character trait of old Pompey is the yearning for a peaceful marital life). 70 Plu. Brut.13,4. 71 Plu. Brut. 13,4−6. In her speech, Porcia points out that as Brutus’ wife she is not only a bedfellow but a participant in her husband’s destiny. 72 Cf. Plu. Cat.Min. 4−6.10.16.20. Plu. Brut. 2. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples

195

ful with his deed, in order to also do justice to his wife’s virtuousness. In the circle of the conspirators, Plutarch lets his Brutus later even say that although Porcia, inhabiting a female body, could not commit belligerent deeds: “in spirit she is valiant in defence of her country, just as we are.”73 Plutarch, in conveying Porcia’s speech and Brutus’s reaction to it, passes on important details for our topic: Porcia is shown as a woman, a female and thus of a weak nature; however, this is offset by her gentility, education and socialization as well as, ultimately, her virtuous action.74 Porcia proves herself to be the ideal wife of Brutus, the experienced politician and military man: Not solely for the reason that her father and brother have politically distanced themselves from Caesar and eventually come out publicly against the dictator (= family background), but also because her courage75 inspires Brutus to utmost bravery (= individual achievement). Porcia presents herself as a participant in the political destiny of her husband. Even if formally, as a woman, she is not allowed to have political power, she shows herself to be wise in her actions. Plutarch’s presentations of Porcia and Brutus are based on a sex/gender dichotomy, which is outlined as clearly hierarchical (the female shows weakness and is therefore subordinate to the male) and which marks agency in terms of gender. Within the markedly gendered area of action, according to Plutarch, both the male and female protagonist must strive to be the best possible persons. As a married couple, they must also mutually complement each other, such that both may commit themselves in an ideal manner on behalf of the civic community. In taking her own life, Porcia’s death is tragic. It also seems to be unavoidable, because in this way she shares the destiny of her husband, brother and father. She too finds no future for herself in the restructuring of the political circumstances in the res publica.76 Whereas Porcia’s actions are determined in a narrow social environment, this protagonist is neither voiceless nor passive: She determines her own fate (life and death), and thus she obtains fame in (literary) afterlife. According to Plutarch, she commands a “high spirit,” which may well be measured with that of her husband’s.77 Furthermore, Plutarch notes that achieving fame by proper behavior is characteristic of virtuous women: 73 Plu. Brut. 23,4 (in B. Perrin’s English translation). To underline the importance of this statement, Plutarch points out his source as the records of Bibulus (Porcia’s son from her first marriage). 74 Plu. Brut. 13. 75 Plutarch reports that Porcia inflicted on herself a painful wound to find out if she could endure corporal pain in order to maintain secrets (Brutus 13). 76 Indications of Porcia’s death are introduced by Plutarch in The Life of Cato Minor (23,2– 6) as well; cf. the parallel written records in Val. Max. 4,6,5 and App. E4 17,136. 77 Another important woman in this context is Cornelia, the mother of Gracchi, whom Plutarch characterizes as “high-minded” (Plu. Mor. 234D).

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

196

Kordula Schnegg

“(…) not the form but the fame of a woman should be known to many. Best of all seems the Roman custom, which publicly renders to women, as to men, a fitting commemoration after the end of their life.”78 Plutarch relied on historical persons in his descriptions of Cornelia and Porcia, who because of their family background and their marriages achieved historical significance.79 However, they equally served in his work as foils for ethic reflections on virtuous women. The focus of the next section is on the link between knowledge and prophecy. In this way I attempt to look for some indications of female sages outside the dominant philosophical discourse. 3.2. Seers For my exposé there are two interesting examples in Roman literature of women figures/collectives with visionary gifts. These women are conceived as essential for the continuing existence of the community. Both examples lead us to temporal and geographical spaces beyond Rome. On the one hand, the Sibyls, fictitious figures, who play a central role in early Roman history; on the other, the (fabricated?) women’s collective among Germani, who are described as prophetesses. 3.2.1. Sibyls Broadly speaking, one can say that in the Graeco-Roman literature the Sibyl is a (fictitious) woman who has prophetic gifts. Moreover, her visions are unsolicited.80 The Sibyl is not tied to an institution. She acts as an individual, who at times goes off on travels. Her prophecies are written down. But further details concerning Sibyl’s description are complex, because the written record changes in view of the number of the Sibyls or of her background. Although in the Greek transmission there is originally mention of only one Sibyl, who exists alone and “without time or (apparently) place,”81 from the Hellenistic period onwards different Sibyls have been identified, who also are “alone” and “without time,” but who can be pinpointed in a particular place – either her place of work/action or of 78

Plu. Mor. 242F, as translated into English by F.C. Babbit. Plutarch introduces them as wives in The Life of Pompey and The Life of Brutus or as daughters in The Life of Cato minor. Their connections to the famous Roman politicians secure their survival in the written record. 80 The prophecy of the Sibyl functions differently than that of Pythia, the seer of the Apollo in Delphi, who reacts to questions by persons and through whom Apollo speaks directly. Although the Sibyl, too, is inspired by a god (in most descriptions it is Apollo), her prophecies are spoken aloud when she herself deems it appropriate. See Lightfoot, 2007: 8–14, who points out parallels and differences in the prophecies of the Sibyl (a fictitious person), Pythia (a historical person) and Cassandra (a fictitious person). 81 Lightfoot, 2007: 4: Heraclitus (5th century BC, as transmitted by Plutarch) counts among the Greek witnesses, as does Plato. Both invoke only one Sibyl. 79

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples

197

origin. M. Terentius Varro (1st century BC) lists in his catalogue altogether ten Sibyls, whom he labels geographically.82 One is the Cumaean Sibyl, who assumes an important role in early Roman history. According to legend, she is said to have sold some of her books to the Etruscan King L. Tarquinius Superbus.83 Thus in ancient Rome the provenance of a collection of sayings which have prophetic character is explained and called Sibyllini libri (also known as libri fatales). There is reference to this collection for the purposes of public atonement on the state level.84 Access to the Sibyllini libri are reserved for an exclusive circle of priests, the quindecimviri sacris faciundis. They alone may consult the books upon command of the senate in crisis situations. Thus, we read for example in Livy (Augustan author), that the outbreak of an epidemic in Rome 347(?) BC induced the senate to commission the priest’s collegium to look into the Sibyllini libri.85 The importance of the Sibyllini libri for the collective memory of Rome may also be measured to the extent that these works were stored in the Temple of Jupiter and that their contents were reconstructed after they caught fire, by accident, in 83 BC.86 The Sibyllini libri were present at the time of the Republic and the Empire. In the Cumaean Sibyl, however, the prophesizing female figure and legendary author of the Sibyllini libri is attributed to an earlier (historically undetermined) time and may be punctually characterized depending on the text, which allows for a complex shape but no congruent view of the Cumeaen Sibyl. Depending on the written record, she will become either very old (Ovid), is very old (Vergil, Aeneid 6,629: longaeva sacerdos) or dies during the time of L. Tarquinius Superbus (Cassius Dio). Her visions come from Apollo (Ovid, Vergil); her prophecies are delivered to the legendary last King of Rome on payment; and she destroys some of her written prophecies (Cassius Dio). Vergil identifies the Sibyl also as sacerdos, as vates/insana vates/sanctissima vates 87 and describes her as virgo and casta. 88

82

Transmitted by Lact. inst. 1,6. D.C. reports that only one portion of the books was bought and at first no one could understand the contents (fragments of Book 2, as transmitted by Zonaras 7[11] and Tzetzes, Lycophron-commentary V. 1279). The Cumaean Sibyl is also mentioned in Ov. met. 14,101–153 (including the tale of trade with Apollo, who bestowed on her a long life as well as a cumbersome old age; see also Petron. 48). 84 Differences are to be found in the oracula Sibyllina, or prophetic sayings, which originated over a longer period of time (from ca. 150 BC to 300 AD) and which shows various influences (Hellenistic, Jewish, Christian ethic; see Lightfoot 2007). 85 Liv. 7,27,1 (a lectisternium was carried out for the purpose of atonement); for other examples of such, see Liv. 29,10,4–8; D.S. 34,5,227; Plu. Fab. 4,4 or Dem. 19,1. 86 Sehlmeyer, 2001: 501. 87 Verg. Aen. 3,443; 6,65 88 See for example Verg. Aen. 6,45. 104. 318; 5,735 (casta, in the sense of pure, abstinent). 83

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

198

Kordula Schnegg

Likewise Ovid.89 According to Vergil, during Aeneas’ arrival in Italy (a mythical time), she hangs out in a cave in Cumae and writes her sayings (carmina) down there in order to announce fate (fata canit).90 In the sixth book of his Aeneid, Vergil tells of one of Sibyl’s visions, which came about in meeting Aeneas.91 At this time the prophetess speaks directly to Aeneas and announces Apollo’s presence. The visions stir the prophetess and her words make Aeneas fearful. She behaves wildly (bacchatur vates) and can only be tamed by Apollo, in such a way that her visions pour out in words.92 3.2.2. Women seers of the Germani Let’s turn to the second example, which shows foreign seers from a Roman perspective. In the Roman literature we repeatedly find indications that the women of the Germani are either an abstract collective or have a special ethnic classification: For example, the women of Cimbri were particularly valued in their communities because they possessed prophetic abilities. The women were taken to be wise in their communities and their advice was to be followed most urgently. Tacitus (1st–2nd century AD) reports that the Germani generally believed that women inherently possessed something sacred and prophetic. Thus, the warriors neither refused their advice nor ignored their notifications.93 The women were always contacted for a special situation (for example, before a war commenced). It was expected that by undergoing rituals they could assess the situation and figure out the actions necessary for a felicitous outcome. Thus, we read in Caesar’s Bellum Gallicum that the bellicose conflict between Romans and Suebi was postponed: “(…) among the Germans it is the custom for their matrons to pronounce from lots and divination, whether it were expedient that the battle should be engaged in or not (…).”94 In this case the prophesizing women are matres familiae. We do not discover any additional information about them: about their social status or their exact age, for example. The women were not described ad personam, but as a collective.95

89

Ov. met. 14, 129. 135. Verg. Aen. 3,441–452; similarly also Ov. met. 14,101–153 (in this scene Aeneas offers Sibyl the possibility of going into the kingdom of the dead/loca mortis). 91 Verg. Aen. 6,42–155. It has to be pointed out that Vergil lets Sibyl here react to the praying Aeneas, who utters a plea for a prophecy, pointing out his descent from Jupiter (for example 6, 123.125. 628). 92 Verg. Aen. 6,77–82. 93 Tac. Germ. 8,2. 94 Caes. Gall. 1,50,4−5; translated into English by W.A. McDevitte. 95 Cf. for example, Str. 7,2,3 or Tac. Germ. 8,2. 90

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples

199

The rituals, which serve for the prophecy, are diverse and ascribed at times to a special tribe by the Latin authors. Whereas the Suebi in Caesar’s Bellum Gallicum work with runes, Strabo (1st century BC / 1st century AD) reports about the women of Cimbri: in order to prophesize they needed prisoners’ entrails and blood.96 The female seers of the Germani needed tools for their prophecies. They were not spontaneously visited by a deity. Their prophecies were tied to concrete, current life situations (for example, before the outbreak of war or during a war), and therefore an oral announcement was sufficient. 4. Conclusion Several highlights regarding female sages in Roman literature have been provided in this chapter. As such, various areas (philosophical ideals, prophecies; public space, family milieu; myth, historical space, foreign space) and genres (historiography, biography and lyric poetry) have been considered. Based on selected text examples, the question was addressed regarding the representation of female sages in Roman literature. First, the link between “wisdom and knowledge” was investigated. The discussion of representations of educated women (section 1.3) shows how perceptions of a sophos or also phronikos determined the description of the female sage. Whereas Cornelia, as a loyal wife at the side of the important politician Cn. Pompeius Magnus, and Porcia, as the active wife of M. Iunius Brutus, take solid form, Hortensia, Hypatia and Sosipatra become comprehensible as orators or philosophers in the public sphere (Rome, Alexandria, Cappadocia, Pergamon). If we incorporate these female figures into the concept outlined by Kerferd (1990) and Fiore (1990), then Cornelia, Porcia and Hortensia stand for “sages in practical affairs,” whereas Sosipatra and Hypatia assume the role of a sophos. All five women in the literature are ascribed a good education which, accordingly, they usefully apply. Second, as to the case studies consulted to discuss wisdom in connection with clairvoyance (section 3.2), the statement or product of the female sages was the focus: The female figures themselves remained rather opaque. The particular talent of these women lay in an exclusive access to the future, which was revealed by visions. It was not the strivings for philosophical or ethical maxims that marked these female sages, but their prophetic gifts, which they offered to a general public. Wisdom is thereby expressed differently as via philosophical education. Accordingly, the female figures are not designated by philosophical concepts of wisdom but by the fact that they are mystical female seers. Furthermore, the representation of Sosipatra draws our attention to the fact that there may definitely be 96

Str. 7,2,3. The historically verifiable content of these transmitted rituals ought to be questioned, since the Graeco-Roman authors provide descriptions of the Other in an ethnographical discourse, which may draw upon facts but which are fed by topoi and stereotypes, by vague lines of argumentation. © 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

200

Kordula Schnegg

interconnections among wisdom, knowledge and prophecy: After all, Sosipatra is praised as both a philosopher and prophetess. It becomes evident in the descriptions that female sages distinguished themselves by having extraordinary abilities, which they could draw upon due to knowledge acquisition, special instructions or innate talents, all of which were esteemed by their respective communities. Abbreviations Ancient Sources App. BC : Appianus, Bella Civilia Caes. Gall.: Caesar, de bello Gallico Cic. Off.: Cicero, de Officiis Cic. Tusc.: Cicero, Tusculanae Disputationes D.C.: Dio Cassius, Historicus D.S.: Diodorus Siculus, Historicus Dam. Isid.: Damascius, Vita Isidori Eun. VS: Eunapius, Vitae Sophistarum Iamb.: Iamblichus, de vita Pythagorica Lact. inst.: Lactantius, Divinae Institutiones Liv.: Livius Ov. met.: Ovidius, metamorphoseos Petron.: Petronius, Satyrica

Plin. HN: Plinius, Historia Naturalis Plu. Alex.: Plutarchus, Alexander Plu. Brut.: Plutarchus, Brutus Plu. Cat. Min.: Plutarchus, Cato Minor Plu. Dem.: Plutarchus, Demosthenes Plu. Fab.: Plutarchus, Fabius Plu. Pomp.: Plutarchus, Pompeius Plu. Mor.: Plutarchus, Moralia Stob.: Stobaeus Joannes Str.: Strabo, Geographus Tac. Germ.: Tacitus, Germania Val. Max.: Valerius Maximus, facta et dicta memorabilia Vell.: Velleius Paterculus, historiae Romanae Verg. Aen.: Vergilius, Aeneis

Encyclopedia DNP Der Neue Pauly: Enzyklopädie der Antike RlA Reallexikon der Assyriologie und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie Bibliography Editions, Translations Appianʼs Roman History, in four volumes, volume III, with an English translation by H. White. London-Cambridge/MA 1972 (first printed 1913). Appianʼs Roman History, in four volumes, volume IV, with an English translation by H. White. London / Cambridge MA 1968 (first printed 1913). The Gallic Wars by Julius Caesar, translated by W.A. McDevitte and W.S. Bohn. New York 1869. (Consulted online on Sept. 15, 2017: http://classics.mit.edu/ Caesar/gallic.html).

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples

201

Cicero, in twenty-eight volumes, volume XXI: De officiis, with an English translation by W. Miller. London / Cambridge MA 1968 (first printed 1913). Cicero, Tusculan Disputations I, edited with translation and notes by A.E. Douglas. Warminster/Chicago 1985. Cicero, Tusculan Disputations II & V, with a summary of III & IV, edited with an introduction, translation and commentary by A.E. Douglas. Warminster 1990. Das Leben des Philosophen Isidoros von Damaskios aus Damaskos, wiederhergestellt, übersetzt und erklärt von Rudolf Asmus. Der Philosophischen Bibliothek 125. Leipzig 1911. Dioʼs Roman History, in nine volumes, volume 4, with an English translation by E. Cary. London / Cambridge MA 1954 (first printed 1916). Eunapii Vitae Sophistarum, recensuit J. Giangrande. Scriptores Graeci et Latini. Roma 1956. Iamblichus, On the Pythagorean Way of Life. Text, Translation, and Notes, by J. Dillon and J. Hershbell. Texts and Translations 9. Graeco-Roman Religion Series 11. Atlanta Georgia 1991. Ioannis Stobaei, Antholgoii libri duo posteriors, recensuit O. Hense, vol. 1. Berolini 1894. Lactantius, The Divine Insitutes, books I–VII, translated by M.F. McDonald. Washington 1964. Livy, in fourteen volumes, volume III: books V, VI and VIII, with an English translation by B.O. Foster. London / Cambridge MA 1967 (first printed 1924). Livy, in fourteen volumes, volume VIII: books XXVIII–XXX, with an English translation by F.G. Moore. London /Cambridge MA 1962 (first printed 1949). Publius Ovidus Naso, Metamorphosen, herausgegeben und übersetzt von G. Fink. Düsseldorf/Zürich 2004. Petronio Arbitro, “Dal Satyricon”: “Cena Trimalchionis”, “Troiae Halosis”, “Bellum civile”, introduzione, nota critica, testo e traduzione a cura di E. Castorina. Bologna 1970. Pliny, Natural History, in ten volumes, volume IX, with an English translation by H. Rackham. London / Cambridge MA 1961 (first printed 1952). Plutarchʼs Lives, in ten volumes, volume III (Pericles and Fabius Maximus, Nicias and Crassus), with an English translation by B. Perrin. London / Cambridge MA 1958 (first printed 1916). Plutarchʼs Lives, in elven volumes, volume V (Agesilaus and Pompey, Pelopidas and Marcellus), with an English translation by B. Perrin. London / Cambridge MA 1955 (first printed 1817). Plutarchʼs Lives, in eleven volumes, volume VI (Dion and Brutus, Timoleon and Aemilius Paulus), with an English translation by B. Perrin. London / Cambridge MA 1954 (first printed 1918).

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

202

Kordula Schnegg

Plutarchʼs Lives, in eleven volumes, volume VII (Demosthenes and Cicero, Alexander and Caesar), with an English translation by B. Perrin. London / Cambridge MA 1958 (first printed 1919). Plutarchʼs Lives, in eleven volumes, volume VIII (Sertorius and Eumenes, Phocion and Cato the Younger), with an English translation by B. Perrin. London / Cambridge MA 1959 (first printed 1919). Plutarchʼs Moralia, in fifteen volumes, volume III: 172A – 263C, with an English translation by F.C. Babbitt. London / Cambridge MA 1961 (first printed 1931). The Pythagorean Texts of the Hellenistic Period, collected and edited by H. Thesleff. Acta Academiae Aboensis, Ser. A, Humanoria 30/1. Åbo 1965. Scriptores Graeci et Latini consilio academiae Lynceorum editi Eunapii Vitae Sophistarum, Ioseph Giangrande recensuit. Romae 1956. The Geography of Strabo, in eight volumes, volume III, with an English translation by H.L. Jones. Cambridge MA / London 1954 (first printed 1924). Tacitus, Germania, translated, with introduction and commentary by J.B. Rives. Oxford 1999. Valerius Maximus, Memorable Doings and Sayings, edited and translated by D.R. Shackleton Bailey. Cambridge MA / London 2000. Velleius Paterculus, The Roman History. From Romulus and the Foundation of Rome to the Reign of the Emperor Tiberius, translated, with introduction and notes by J.C. Yardley and A.A. Barrett. Indianapolis 2011. Vergil, Aeneis, Lateinisch-deutsch, in Zusammenarbeit mit M. Götte, herausgegeben und übersetzt von J. Götte, mit einem Nachwort von B. Kytzler. Zürich 8 1994. Research literature Annas, J., 2008: “The Sage in Ancient Philosophy”. In F. Alesse (ed.): Anthropine Sophia. Studi di Filologia e storiografia filosofica in memoria di Gabriele Giannantoni. Naples. Pp. 11–27. (Consulted online on Sept., 15, 2017: http:// www.u.arizona.edu/~jannas/recentarticles.html). Burke, P., 2000: A Social History of Knowledge. From Gutenberg to Diderot. Cambridge. — 2012: A Social History of Knowledge. From the Encyclopédie to Wikipedia. Cambridge. Clark, G., 1994: Women in Late Antiquity. Pagan and Christian Lifestyles. Ox– ford. Fechner, J., (2016): “Weise (sage)”. In RlA 15 1/2 Lfg., 46–51. Fiore, B. 1990: “The Sage in Select Hellenistic and Roman Literary Genres (Philosophic Epistles, Political Discourses, History, Comedy, and Romances”. In J.G. Gammie / L.G. Perdue (eds.): The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East. Winona Lake. Pp. 329–341.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Female Sages in Roman Literature – Selected Examples

203

Foucault, M., 1966: Les Mots et les choses. Une archéologie de sciences humaines. Paris. Fränkel, M., (ed.), 1895: Altertümer von Pergamon, Band VIII/2: Die Inschriften von Pergamon. Berlin. Frede, M., 2006: “Perictione [2]”. In DNP 9, 573. Gély, V., 2013: “Hypatia”. In DNP S8, 525–543. Haley, S.P., 1985: “The Five Wives of Pompey the Great”. Greece & Rome 32/1, 49–59. Harich-Schwarzbauer, H., 2000a: “Philosophinnen”. In DNP 9, 868−870. — 2000b: “Philosophinnen”. In Th. Späth / B. Wagner-Hasel (eds.): Frauenwelten in der Antike. Geschlechterordnung und weibliche Lebenspraxis. Stuttgart. Pp. 162−174. — 2002: “Erinnerungen an Hypatia von Alexandria. Zur fragmentierten Philosophenbiographie des Synesios von Kyrene”. In B. Feichtinger / G. Wöhrle (Hg.): Gender Studies in den Altertumswissenschaften. Möglichkeiten und Grenzen. IPHIS. Beiträge zur altertumswissenschaftlichen Genderforschung 1. Trier. Pp. 97−108. Harris, R., 1990: “The Female “Sage” in Mesopotamian Literature (with an appendix on Egypt)”. In J.G. Gammie / L.G. Perdue (eds.): The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East. Winona Lake. Pp. 3–17. — 2000: Gender and Aging in Mesopotamia. The Gilgamesh Epic and Other Ancient Literature. Norman. Hartmann, U., 2006: “Spätantike Philosophinnen. Frauen in den Philosophenviten von Porphyrios bis Damaskios”. In R. Rollinger / C. Ulf (eds.): Frauen und Geschlechter. Bilder – Rollen – Realitäten in den Texten antiker Autoren zwischen Antike und Mittelalter. Wien/Köln/Weimar. Pp. 43−79. Hopwood, B., 2015: “Hortensia speaks: an authentic voice of resistance?”. In K. Welch (ed.): Appianʼs Roman History. Empire and Civil War. Swansea. Pp. 305−322. Kerferd, G.B., 1990: “The Sage in Hellenistic Philosophical Literature (399 B.C.E – 199 C.E.)”. In J.G. Gammie / L.G. Perdue (eds.): The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East. Winona Lake. Pp.319–328. Lightfoot, J.L., 2007: The Sibylline Oracles. With Introduction, Translation, and Commentary on the First and Second Books. Oxford. Penella, R.J., 1990: Greek Philosophers and Sophists in the Fourth Century A.D. Studies in Eunapius of Sardis. ARCA 28. Leeds. Perdue, L.G., (ed.), 2008: Scribes, Sages, and Seers. The Sage in the Eastern Mediterranean World. Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments 129. Göttingen. Plant, I.M., (ed.), 2004: Women Writers of Ancient Greece and Rome. An Anthology. Norman.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

204

Kordula Schnegg

Reuthner, R., 2009: “Philosophie und oikonomia als weibliche Disziplinen in Traktaten und Lehrbriefen neupythagoreischer Philosophinnen”. HISTORIA 58/4. 416–437. Schnegg, K., 2010: Geschlechtervorstellung und soziale Differenzierung bei Appian aus Alexandrien. Philippika. Marburger altertumskundliche Abhandlungen 33. Wiesbaden. Sehlmeyer, M., 2001: “Sibyllini libri, Sibyllini oracula”. In DNP 11, 501–502. Waithe, M.E., 1987: Late Pythagoreans: Theano II and Perictione II, with translation and additional commentary by V.L. Harper. In M.E. Waithe (ed.): A History of Women Philosophers, Volume 1: Ancient Women Philosophers, 600 BC – 500 AD. Dordrecht/Boston/Lancaster. Pp.41–58. Zoepffel, R., 2006: Aristoteles. Oikonomika. Schriften zu Hauswirtschaft und Finanzwesen, übersetzt und erläutert von R. Zoepffel. Aristoteles Werke in deutscher Übersetzung 10/II. Berlin.

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

Index Female sages Abigail 132–134, 139, 141 Adad-guppi 53–59, 61 Athena 163–171 Bath-Sheba 131, 141 Cornelia 193–196, 199 Damkina 23 Deborah 138 Enḫedu’ana 17–18, 26 Ĝeštinana 27 Gula 23 Hortensia 189–190, 199 Hypatia 190–192, 199 knowing one 78–79, 91–92 Lady Wisdom 149–150, 152, 158–159, 163 Metis 163–165, 169–170 the mother of Lemuel 141 Namma 45, 48 Nanše 17, 23, 26–29

Naqi’a 58–60 Ninmah 47–49 Ninsun 54–55, 58 Nissaba 17, 23, 26–30, 32–33 Nunbar-šegunu 27 Perictione 185–187 queen of Sheba 136 Porcia 194–196, 199 Rahab 132–134 Saĝburu 27 Šamhat 54–55 Sibyl 196–198 Šiduri 54–55 Sosipatra 190–192, 199–200 Thueris 78 Udjarenes 74 wife of Manoah 142 wise woman of Abel 129–132, 135 wise woman of Tekoa 135

Male sages Adad-šumu-usur 68 Adapa 31–32, 66–68 Amenhotep 72, 74, 76–77, 85–86, 88, 94, 96–98, 100, 102 apkallu 65, 67–68 Apollonios of Tyana 177 Assurbanipal 67–68 Atra-ḫasis 66 Baruch 122–123 Calcol 122, 136 Chety 74, 77, 82, 84–86, 88 Daniel 119–120, 137 Darda 122, 136 David 129, 131–132, 134–137, 141 Demonax 181 Djadjaemankh 75–77 Djedi 76 Ea 29, 49, 65–68 Enki 22–24, 29–30, 46–49

Enki/E’a 22, 24–25, 30 Enmeduranki 31–32 Enoch 31–32 Esarhaddon 67, 68 Ethan 122, 136 Ezra 122–123, 141 Gilgameš 43–46, 49 Haia 49 Hammurapi 65, 67 Hapu 74, 76–77, 85–86, 94, 96–98, 100, 102 Heka 76, 83 Heman 122, 136 Hordjedef 75, 77, 81–85, 87, 95–97 Ipuur 74, 91 Issar-šumu-ereš 68 Iunius Rusticus 174 Iymhotep 74–77, 80–84, 86–88, 90, 94, 97–99

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)

206

Index

Jesus 177 Joab 129–131, 135, 136 Kagemni 74, 99 Kairse 74, 82–85, 87 Khaemuast 72, 77, 85–87, 94, 96, 100 Khakkeperreseneb 74, 82–83, 85, 88 Marduk 49 Marduk-šakin-šumi 68 Mutaqqin-Aššur 69 Nabû 30, 32 Nathan 135, 141 Nefer 77 Neferty 77, 82, 84–85, 88, 90, 99 Oannes 31–32, 66 Polemon 177 Ptah 74, 77, 83, 86, 88, 95 Ptahemdjehuty 82–83

Ptahhotep 74, 82–85, 87, 90–93, 96– 97, 102 Qohelet 123, 125 Sa-Chety 74 Seven Sages 23 seven sages (apkallū) 66, 68 Shaphan 121–123 Solomon 120, 133, 136–137, 139–141 Šulgi 45–47, 49 Šuruppak 43 Thot 93, 102 U'an 66 Ubainer 75–77 UD-ana 31 ummânū 68 Uta-napishtim 55 Ziusudra 43, 47

© 2019, Zaphon, Münster ISBN 978-3-96327-068-0 (Buch) / ISBN 978-3-96327-069-7 (E-Book)