New stuff on Sefer Hasidim

The current volume of the Jewish Quarterly Review is devoted in its entirety to Sefer Hasidim. Several important articles there, most of which I have not yet read. But I noticed that Haym Soloveitchik included, as a web-only resource, transcriptions of the citations of SH in various manuscripts. Skimming through, and looking for new material, I noticed this, from Ms. Oxford Opp. 614 (2275), a 14th century Ashkenazic manuscript from the school of Maharam:

בירושלמ' כל הטועם קדירותיו בערב שבת מאריכין לו ימיו
In the Palestinian Talmud - Anyone who tastes the dishes on the eve of Shabbat will have a long life.

As Soloveitchik writes (p. 62):
German pietism is characterized not simply by its extremist ideology but also by its inveterate desire to proffer advice on all aspects of human relations.

Interesting. Because I always feel guilty whenever I sneak a taste of the food for Shabbat. My former roommate would always have a bowl of his chicken soup for Friday lunch, and another friend would gleefully feast on fresh schnitzel. I suppose the Hassid meant simply to taste the dish to ensure it is well-seasoned. Which bespeaks a level of piety on par with standing knee deep in ice water, I guess.

Ketav Tamim

Seforim Online has uploaded a new batch of books. Among them is Ketav Tamim, by R Moshe ben Hisdai Tachau. Sections of this controversial book were first published in 1860 by Kirchheim, and a facsimile of the unique manuscript (Paris NB heb. 711) was produced by the Dinur Center in 1984. The people at SO have copied the 1860 publication, and added several pages from Urbach's edition of Arugat ha-Bosem, containing an extensive quote from the work.

Philosophy is not my forte, and I hope readers will be able to give a better explanation of the content of Ketav Tamim. In short, it contains an attack on the philosophical, anti-anthropomorphic statements of Saadi'a Gaon, the Rambam and others.

The book and its author are mentioned in the contribution by the late Shraga Abramson to the Urbach memorial volume (Mehqerei Talmud 3). In his back-handed way, Abramson recounted his first encounter with the professor, at the first World Congress of Jewish Studies. Urbach gave a lecture about Ketav Tamim, and Abramson, who was a yeshiva student at the time, informed him that he had looked deeply into all extant sources about R Moshe Tachau. Urbach asked "And did you know about Ketav Tamim?" Abramson answered "Of course! How can you study R Moshe Tachau without knowing about Ketav Tamim?"

That's the story.

New blog

One of the most stimulating readers of this blog, Menahem Mendel, has branched out on his own. I wish him lots of luck.

In his first post, Menahem Mendel wrote about the medieval Ashkenazic exemption of scholars from payment of communal taxes. He compares this to a colonial American law that allowed clergy to escape the death penalty by reciting a biblical passage.

I have noticed a couple of instances where medieval Ashkenazic scholars found themselves embroiled in court proceedings, and used their Talmudic expertise to maintain a controversial position beneficial to themselves. The examples that come to mind are R Ya'akov Sevara of Krakow (not mentioned here, though he is apparently the first Polish rabbinic figure known by name), who married a woman who had recently given birth, and R Yoel ha'Levi of Bonne (in a case discussed recently by Brigit Klein, Zutot 3 [2003], 121-134).

But those rabbis did not exert any special influence, or receive any preferent treatment from the court. In fact, they lost (at least, R Ya'akov did. I don't remember the outcome of the R Yoel case), with tragic consequences (great material for a novel, which I once tried to write but realized my shortcomings).

והוא נוסע ונוסע בלי לומר מילה

Blogging from the airport. For a while I have been meaning to write something (though nothing original) about the poem for Shabbat Hannukah titled Odecha Hashem ki Anafta, and the story it hints to, as expressed more clearly in a medieval story published by Yellinek as Midrash Hannukah 3. But it will have to wait a little longer. Maybe by that time I'll have something to say.

Female scribes

Only because the question came up in the discussion of my previous post, I will gather here the material on the topic of Jewish female scribes. This is basically culled from responses on H-Judaic last summer.

In Colette Sirat's book, Hebrew Manuscripts of the Middle Ages, I came
across a passing reference to the female scribe, Frommet, daughter of
Issacher Levi d'arwyler. The text she copied (a compendium of rules by
Mordecai ben Hillel) was dated 1454. Can anyone help with sources on
Frommet in specific, and on medieval female scribes in general?
Thanks,
>>> Marla Segol
>>> Assistant Professor of Religion, Jewish Studies
>>> Carleton University

On female scribes see A. M. Habermann, "Nashim Ma'atikot", Kiryat Sefer 13
(1936-1937), pp. 114-120. (Several points in this article require
revision). On Frommet see Michael Rigler, "Marat Paula ve-Marat Frommet
Ma'atikot Sefarim", Mabu'a 33 (1999), pp. 93-98.
Yael Levine

Re female scribes-- see S. Zolty, AND ALL YOUR CHILDREN SHALL BE LEARNED,
JASON ARONSON Press
[Herbert Basser]

A.M. Habermann listed 19 pre-modern women scribes in an article in Kiryat
Sefer,13 (1939), ;;. 14-20. That list can be expanded:
Malka bat Menahem Zion copied a Semak in 1386 (Amsterdam -
Universiteitsbibliotheek MS Rosenthaliana 558)
Foigele bat Abraham Calimani copied part of a pinkas in Venice in 1603
(Jewish Theological Seminary Ms. 8869)
Another MS copied by Paula bat Abraham of Rome not listed by Habermann is
Moscow - Russian State Library, Ms. Guenzburg 618, Piskei ha-Ri"d copied in
1293
For Arwyler read Ahrweiler (a district in the north of
Rhineland-Palatinate)
Benjamin Richler
Institute of Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts
Jewish National and University Library
POB 39105 Jerusalem, Israel 91390

We have information about Frommet of Arwyller (p.
79)and several other female scribes in our book, The
JPS Guide to Jewish Women, 600 B.C.E. - 1900 C.E. by
Emily Taitz, Sondra Henry, & Cheryl Tallan,
Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2003.
Cheryl Tallan c.tallan@utoronto.ca

Aviel Barclay says she is collecting material on the topic.

According to the traveller Ya'akov Sapir, who visited Yemen in 1859, a scribe named Miriam bat Benayah wrote a Pentateuch and added the following apology: Do not hold me to blame if you find a mistake, because I am breast-feeding.
See Michael Rigler's article on Benayah and his descendants, Pe'amim 64 (1995), p. 61; S.D. Goitein, The Yemenites, Jerusalem 1983, p. 255; Tsemah Kessar, Leshonenu 66 (2004), p. 165, n. 9.
Also quoted here, at note 10.

Methodological musings

I feel bad that I haven't been blogging. But I'm busy, as you should know by now. Anyway, a couple of thoughts that have occurred to me recently. I can't really back them up, but they might strike a chord with someone.

There was a time when it was quite acceptable in scholarly circles to resolve Talmudic cruxes by positing an abbreviation that was incorrectly interpreted. In other words, when faced with a word (or phrase) that was difficult to interpret in context, the explanation would be given that originally a different phrase had appeared, bearing the same initial letters. A scribe shortened the phrase to those letters, and a later scribe misunderstood them and wrote some new words that have no meaning.

This line of interpretation was championed by Louis Ginzburg, who wrote an article in Students' Annual, a JTS publication from long ago, entirely devoted to using this method to explain obscure passages in the Jerusalem Talmud. Victor Aptowitzer did the same, for other Talmudic sources. Today I came across the method in a comment by Shmuel Kalman Mirsky, in his edition of the Sheiltot.

The only example that comes to mind, though, which I haven't gone back to check (I know that Ravitsky wrote an article on the topic, in his book Al Da'at HaMakom) is Rashi's comment on Deuteronomy 11:18. There he says:

Even after you go into exile, distinguish yourselves with commandments. Put
on tefillin, make mezuzot, so that they not be new to
you when you return.

This is surprising, since one would have thought that these mitzvot are precisely the kind whose observance is unrelated to geographic issues. Therefore, someone said (and I have no idea where I heard this) that the original text (or, at least, a more original version than the printed edition) had the abbreviation tu"m. This stood for terumot uma'asrot, agricultural laws that are indeed applicable in the land of Israel. A copyist misconstrued the abbreviation, and the above text was created.

But we know that the performance of mitzvot including tefillin and mezuzah was indeed lax for much of Jewish history (as Kanarfogel has shown). And it is difficult for me to imagine how such an error could have actually developed.

In general, I think this method has fallen out of favour. That was my thought. As an aside, I suspect that Saul Lieberman didn't like this method too much himself. In his methodological introduction to Talmudic philology, Al ha-Yerushalmi, he mentioned Ginzburg's article, but he quotes only two of them, without much enthusiasm. But maybe I was reading that into him.

My other thought has to do with enthusiasm about manuscripts and their significance for scholarship. I hope my passion for manuscripts is not in question. But their contribution to the elucidation of the text is often overrated. My theory is that the more exposure a scholar has to manuscripts, especially texts outside his specialized focus, the more sober he is in appraising them.

A few stories may illustrate this. One is my last conversation with the late Prof. Ta Shema. As he was walking me out of his study, he spoke heavily about the IMHM as "riches kept by the owner to his detriment." It was clear that decades of working with manuscripts, poring over thousands of microfilms, had left him overwhelmed and exhausted.

Another story. A Talmud class at Hebrew University. The professor points out difficulties in a chapter of mishnah. One of the students, a pensioner with great enthusiasm for his studies, suggests brightly "Well then look in the manuscript!" And the teacher explains patiently that he had already looked in the manuscript, and his problem remained.

Reading through different manuscripts, one becomes inured to minor stylistic shifts, additions or elisions, different forms of a single word. Not every variation is worth getting excited about. In fact, most variations are almost meaningless. And even if a particular variation seems to be exciting, chances are it isn't.

Some Spanish-Provencal odds and ends

Yesterday I was given an offprint of one of the articles in the latest volume of Netuim. The offprint contains remnants of Ra'avad's lost commentary on Baba Batra, and is preceded by a nice introduction by Dr. Uzy Fuchs.

This week's Haaretz literary section carried a review of the latest volume in Machon Yerushalayim's edition of responsa of the Rashba.

Rav Meir Lichtenstein, who is working on the writings of Ri Migash, spoke this week at YCT. His name got a little confused there, but that tilt of the head is unmistakable.

Apparently a new volume of Shenaton ha-Mishpat ha-Ivri has appeared. But I haven't seen it yet. I did see the latest (25) volume of Ma'aliyot, which contains a new Maimonides autograph, a new fragment of Abraham Maimonides' magnum opus HaMaspik le-Ovdei Hashem and an article about the work Mezukak Shiv'atayim.