Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Characters in Torah: what does all this have to do with chant?
The holding trop Revi’a on the word “And now…” in verse 30 recalls us and Joseph to the present. It is a common device in Torah chant as well as in modern song to hold an initial “time-word” to emphasize a particular moment in time. Revi’a also takes us into the future on the next verse (And it will be…) as Judah declares that he cannot return to his father without Benjamin and offers himself in his stead.
There is one more chant indication that changes the way one should hear this episode in public recitation, a stage direction missed by virtually all translations. The speech begins (JPS translation): “Then Judah went up to him and said, “Please, my lord, let your servant appeal to by lord, and do not be impatient with your servant, you who are like Pharaoh.” Chant would have you hear the lines pronounced much like the well known opening of Mark Anthony’s funeral speech. I was ten years old, used to declaiming the lines in a high oratorical fashion until I saw my first production of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. It was an awakening moment for me. The scene was angry. The people of Rome had sided with Caesar’s assassins, who had saved the Republic from a power hungry tyrant. Anthony, Caesar’s protégé, was allowed to speak only because the conspirators reasoned that he could do little harm. Who would listen? So it was with a sense of urgency that the Anthony blurts out, “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.” The crowd becomes still and momentarily receptive, and Anthony can gently and slowly turn their worldview upside down.
Chant gives a similar direction to our scene before Joseph. Confronted with Joseph’s decree that Benjamin should stay as his slave, the brothers (out of guilt? inability to face their father?) offer to all remain as slaves. But Joseph rejoins, “Far be it from me to do so. The man with whom the goblet was found – he shall be my slave. And you – return in peace to your father.” I like to picture Joseph turning away, his stratagem having achieved the desired reunion with a long lost brother, when…
“And Judah approached him and said[urgently], ‘Please my lord!’ [pause, a shocked silence]
‘Let your servant please speak to my lord, and let my lord not be angry with his servant, for you are like Pharaoh. My lord asked his servants,’...”
The pause after the words “my lord” is indicated by the trop zarka-segol which imparts a sense of finality/conclusion, and also indicates a strong stop at the end of the phrase. Only occasionally does Torah include the first word of a quote at the strong stop segol, and it is usually with similar effect (Compare, for example, Exodus 14:13, at the shores of the Red Sea).
I chose the example of Judah’s speech to illustrate how chant makes very good text even better in public recitation. Unlike songs, whose verses sound awkward when read without their music, Torah can stand without chant, but it too is enhanced. A simple speech is more eloquent and moving when sung to the rhythm of the chant. An initial word is held, giving emphasis to a change in scene. Finally,trop serves as "stage direction." Here, the speech is given a dramatic urgency which could otherwise be missed. Judah emerges in this account as a heroic figure. As the Sages taught, “Who is heroic? He who conquers his own inclination.”
Friday, January 2, 2009
Characters in Torah: Reuben and Judah
Reuben is the firstborn, and by rights should be the leader of Jacob’s twelve sons. But story after story – mirrored by the later role of the respective tribes named after the brothers – indicates that the mantle of leadership is worn by Leah’s fourth son, Judah. In the first chapter of the story, Jacob sends Joseph to check on his brothers at some distance from home. The brothers wish to kill him. Reuben intercedes with the morally dubious proposition that they will be less culpable of his death if they merely throw him into a pit [An aside: the narrative tells us directly that he intends to return and rescue Joseph, an intention he hides from his brothers. It is unusual for Torah to tell a characters motivation and hidden intentions behind speech. The only other instance in the Joseph story is also an example of such deceptive speech. Can you find it?]. While Reuben is apparently absent, Judah proposes a more profitable alternative – let’s sell him into slavery to a passing caravan. Does he want to get rid of him and make some money? Does he know that this is the most realistic means of saving Joseph’s life, given the brothers’ murderous intent? Write your own stage direction. In any case, it is an example of Judah’s effectiveness as a leader, however morally reprehensible the act.
The second episode contrasting the two brothers occurs in the interlude between their two descents to Egypt. One of the brothers, Simon, has been held hostage by Joseph who has told them that they must return with his little brother Benjamin to prove that they are not spies. The problem is that their father Jacob will not part with the lad, who is the new favorite son now that Joseph is gone. When the brothers return from Egypt, Reuben immediately suggests that they go back with Benjamin in order to rescue Simon; as a pledge, he suggests that Jacob can kill his – Reuben’s – two sons if he fails to return with Benjamin. Judah is silent. But some time later, when food is again scarce, and Jacob recognizes the need for another voyage to Egypt, Judah speaks up. He says merely that he will pledge to return with the lad and that if he fails “I will have sinned to you all my days.” He adds that if Jacob had let Benjamin go down earlier, “we could have been there and back twice!” It is a singular example of waiting to say the right thing at the right time. The brothers with Benjamin set out for Egypt.
Judah’s third speech is the climax of the story. All eleven brothers are on their way back to their father, loaded with provisions, when Joseph frames Benjamin of stealing his goblet. Joseph decrees that he shall remain in Egypt as his slave. By rights the story should end with the brothers sans Benjamin returning to a heartbroken father. The history of Israel, the fulfillment of the ancestral prophecy, the very history of the human race stands in peril. And then the extraordinary occurs. Judah steps forward and calls out “Please, my lord!” With plainspoken eloquence he recounts the prior events, vividly representing the feelings of an elderly patriarch about to lose his most beloved son. He caps the speech with an astonishing offer: he himself will remain as Joseph’s slave, if Joseph will let Benjamin return home. Joseph, overcome with emotion, can no longer conceal his identity, and the story moves to its generally positive conclusion.
In the above three short episodes, much is already revealed about decisiveness, judgment, and effective leadership. The dynamic quality of character and moral development is shown in the transformation of Judah in the final speech. It has been a cautionary tale for me. As one prone to talk too much, I like to remember that a few words uttered effectively at the right time outweigh quick and excessively intense speech. And I have come to believe that one of the themes of this story is that it is not enough to be well intentioned. The imperative is to act with effectiveness as well as right. I often remind myself: “Be Judah, not Reuben.”
Characters in the Torah: The Joseph Story
The story of Joseph and his brothers is arguably the first “short story” in Western literature. It is a good yarn, full of plot twists and reversals. At one point for example, the protagonist changes from prisoner in a dungeon to the second most powerful person in the land in an instant. It is complex and tightly woven. It is a gem.
The narrative is believable, with psychologically convincing characters. Transport yourself back to a polygamous time and imagine two wives, one beloved and one not so much. Imagine that the favored wife finally gives birth to a son after many years. The child is bright and attractive, and his father favors him over his ten older brothers. But he is also impossibly annoying – a tattle tale and a dreamer, apparently selected by both his father and destiny. It is not hard to imagine the annoyance of his brothers turning into a murderous hatred. And that is just the prologue.
The story is intricate, and deals with ultimate questions in complex and sophisticated ways. A good example is the interaction between fate and human action. Nearly two thousand years ago, the sage Rabbi Akiva took a stance on the question of predestination versus free will: “All is foreseen, and choice is granted.” He was stating a fundamental paradox, logically irreconcilable. I have long imagined that he was giving voice to the perspective of the Torah on this question. One of the times we reach for stories is when we need to illustrate a point that cannot be reduced to simple general rules. “The Joseph Story” is often read simplistically. Man plans, but the outcome will be that envisioned by God. We forget that this view is not stated in the narrative, but rather is spoken by Joseph to his brothers (Gen 44:5) in order to comfort and reassure them that he means them no harm: “And now don’t be upset that you sent me here….” In the telling, the story is much more complicated. It takes a convoluted series of events to place Joseph in the position of authority over his brothers that had been foreshadowed in his dreams. More significantly, it will take a decisive, courageous, and surprising act by one of the brothers, Judah, to bring about the reconciliation of brothers that will ultimately lead to the fulfillment of the prophecy to their great grandfather Abraham: “Know surely that your seed will be strangers in a land not theirs…” Is it all fated to happen? Or is this a human drama, influenced by outside events, but also by tangled emotions, and by actions both base and transcendent? R. Akiva would answer, “Yes.”