EcclesiastesThrough the Centuries Blackwell Bible Commentaries Series Editors: John Sawyer, Christopher Rowland, Judith Kovacs, David M. Gunn John Through the Centuries Exodus Through the Centuries Mark Edwards Scott M. Langston Revelation Through the Centuries Ecclesiastes Through the Centuries Judith Kovacs & Christopher Rowland Eric S. Christianson Judges Through the Centuries David Gunn Forthcoming: Genesis 1–11 Through the Centuries Ezekiel Through the Centuries Danna Nolan Fewell & Gary A. Phillips Andrew Mein Leviticus Through the Centuries Jonah Through the Centuries Mark Elliott Yvonne Sherwood 1 & 2 Samuel Through the Centuries Mark Through the Centuries David Gunn Christine Joynes 1 & 2 Kings Through the Centuries Luke Through the Centuries Martin O’Kane Larry Kreitzer Esther Through the Centuries Romans Through the Centuries Jo Carruthers Paul Fiddes Psalms Through the Centuries 1 Corinthians Through the Centuries Susan Gillingham Jorunn Okland Song of Songs Through the 2 Corinthians Through the Centuries Centuries Paula Gooder Francis Landy and Fiona Black Galatians Through the Centuries Isaiah Through the Centuries John Riches John F. A. Sawyer Hebrews Through the Centuries Jeremiah Through the Centuries John Lyons Mary Chilton Callaway James Through the Centuries Lamentations Through the Centuries David Gowler Paul Joyce Pastoral Epistles Through the Centuries Jay Twomey EcclesiastesThrough the CenturiesEric S. Christianson © 2007 by Eric S. Christianson BLACKWELL PUBLISHING 350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148-5020, USA 9600 Garsington Road, Oxford OX4 2DQ, UK 550 Swanston Street, Carlton, Victoria 3053, Australia The right of Eric S. Christianson to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act 1988. 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, except as permitted by the UK Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act 1988, without the prior permission of the publisher. First published 2007 by Blackwell Publishing Ltd 1 2007 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Christianson, Eric S. Ecclesiastes through the centuries / Eric S. Christianson. p. cm.—(Blackwell Bible commentaries) Includes bibliographical references and indexes. ISBN-13: 978-0-631-22529-4 (hardcover: alk. paper) ISBN-10: 0-631-22530-7 (hardcover: alk. paper) 1. Bible. O.T. Ecclesiastes— Commentaries. I. Title. II. Series. BS1475.53.C47 2007 223′.807—dc22 2006012585 A catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library. Set in 10 on 12.5 pt Minion by SNP Best-set Typesetter Ltd, Hong Kong Printed and bound in Singapore by Fabulous Printers Pte Ltd The publisher’s policy is to use permanent paper from mills that operate a sustainable forestry policy, and which has been manufactured from pulp processed using acid-free and elementary chlorine-free practices. Furthermore, the publisher ensures that the text paper and cover board used have met acceptable environmental accreditation standards. For further information on Blackwell Publishing, visit our website: www.blackwellpublishing.com For Sonya Series Editors’ Preface xi Preface xiii Testimonia 1 The Vagaries of Interpreting Ecclesiastes 1 Charting a Harsh Terrain 4 Qoheleth the Philosopher 5 Wrought by Melancholy 7 Preacher of Joy 9 True to Life 10 Qoheleth and Christianity 14 Qoheleth and Justice 15 Contents Introduction 17 1 A History of Reception Histories 19 2 Reading Strategies and Lines of Influence 22 Pre-Modern Reading: –1500 23 Early Modern Reading: 1500–1800 40 A. Renaissance and Reform 40 B. Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century Verse 51 C. On the Way to Modernity 57 Modern Reading: 1800– 65 A. Literature 65 B. Visual Art, Music and Film 75 C. Comparative Studies 84 Ecclesiastes 1 87 The Life and Death of Solomon the Author: 1:1 et passim 89 A. Alive and Well in Pre-Modernity (–1500) 89 B. Embattled in Early Modernity (1500–1800) 95 C. Dead in Modernity – Solomon’s Ghost (1800–) 96 Vanitas Vanitatum: 1:2 et passim 98 A. Despising the World through Vanitas (–1500) 100 B. Renaissance Vanitas: Despising Jerome and Suspecting the Sciences (1500–1800) 106 C. Literary Vanitas: New Points of Reference (1800–) 125 D. The Breadth of Vanitas 140 The Overture Played Out: 1:3–18 142 Ecclesiastes 2 156 Wrestling with the Test of Pleasure: 2:1–10 157 Understanding Wisdom, Folly and God’s Gifts: 2:11–24 161 Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 164 The Totality of Times 165 Ecclesiastes 3:9–6:12 174 On Fate, Knowledge and Anthropology: 3:9–22 175 On Oppression and the Value of Companionship: 4:1–12 180 On Conducting Oneself in the House of God: 5:1–8 183 On the Possibility of Profit and Relief from hebel: 5:10–6:12 184 viii Contents Ecclesiastes 7–8 188 The Curious Values of Wisdom: 7:1–12 189 The Incongruity of Experience and the Inaccessibility of Wisdom: 7:13–29 192 About Wisdom, Power and Authority: 8:1–17 201 Ecclesiastes 9:1–12 206 The Wisdom of Death and Life 207 Ecclesiastes 9:13–11:10 216 Wise Conduct in the Light of Uncertainty: 9:13–11:6 217 The Final Call to Joy: 11:7–10 221 Ecclesiastes 12:1–7 225 The Rule of Allegory 227 Beyond Allegory 232 Ecclesiastes 12:8–14 247 The Final Word 249 A Hermeneutical Postscript 256 Understanding the Pervasive Appeal of Qoheleth 256 The Exegetical ‘Fidelity’ of Ecclesiastes’ Reception History 259 How Might This Reception History Inform the Discipline? 261 Bibliography 264 Primary Sources 265 1. Pre-1500 265 2. 1500–1800 267 3. Post-1800 271 Reception Histories of Ecclesiastes 275 1. Jewish and Christian 275 2. Surveys of Academic Approaches 280 3. Literature 281 Specialist Comparative Studies 283 Ecclesiastes General Secondary Sources 285 Other Secondary Sources 291 Appendix – The Quotable Qoheleth: Ecclesiastes in Popular Discourse 296 Contents ix List of Illustrations 300 Acknowledgements 302 Name Index 303 Subject Index 312 x Contents The Blackwell Bible Commentaries series, the first to be devoted primarily to the reception history of the Bible, is based on the premise that how people have interpreted, and been influenced by, a sacred text like the Bible is often as interesting and historically important as what it originally meant. The series emphasizes the influence of the Bible on literature, art, music, and film, its role in the evolution of religious beliefs and practices, and its impact on social and political developments. Drawing on work in a variety of disciplines, it is designed to provide a convenient and scholarly means of access to material until now hard to find, and a much-needed resource for all those interested in the influence of the Bible on Western culture. Until quite recently this whole dimension was for the most part neglected by biblical scholars. The goal of a commentary was primarily if not exclusively to get behind the centuries of accumulated Christian and Jewish tradition to SeriesEditors’ Preface one single meaning, normally identified with the author’s original intention. The most important and distinctive feature of the Blackwell Commentaries is that they will present readers with many different interpretations of each text, in such a way as to heighten their awareness of what a text, especially a sacred text, can mean and what it can do, what it has meant and what it has done, in the many contexts in which it operates. The Blackwell Bible Commentaries will consider patristic, rabbinic (where relevant), and medieval exegesis as well as insights from various types of modern criticism, acquainting readers with a wide variety of interpretative techniques. As part of the history of interpretation, questions of source, date, authorship, and other historical-critical and archaeological issues will be dis- cussed, but since these are covered extensively in existing commentaries, such references will be brief, serving to point readers in the direction of readily accessible literature where they can be followed up. Original to this series is the consideration of the reception history of specifi c biblical books arranged in commentary format. The chapter-by-chapter arrangement ensures that the biblical text is always central to the discussion. Given the wide influence of the Bible and the richly varied appropriation of each biblical book, it is a difficult question which interpretations to include. While each volume will have its own distinctive point of view, the guiding principle for the series as a whole is that readers should be given a representa- tive sampling of material from different ages, with emphasis on interpretations that have been especially influential or historically significant. Though com- mentators will have their preferences among the different interpretations, the material will be presented in such a way that readers can make up their own minds on the value, morality, and validity of particular interpretations. The series encourages readers to consider how the biblical text has been interpreted down the ages and seeks to open their eyes to different uses of the Bible in contemporary culture. The aim is to write a series of scholarly com- mentaries that draw on all the insights of modern research to illustrate the rich interpretative potential of each biblical book. John Sawyer Christopher Rowland Judith Kovacs David M. Gunn xii Series Editors’ Preface Qoheleth himself hints at the reality of the situation. The world may run its course with elegant regularity, but the stuff of interpretation – the articulation of words and the pursuit of understanding especially – is marred by fatigue, cognitive exasperation and endless publication. Rendering such boundless hermeneutical energy has required the use of fat paintbrushes, often resulting in far simpler lines than the subject would demand if examined more closely (though often that scrutiny has been more comprehensive than the lines suggest). In this respect I share wholeheartedly the views of James Barr in his preface to The Bible in the Modern World, that the phrases he found himself using (such as ‘in the early church’ or ‘up to modern times’) ‘must be the abomination of the true historian’ (1973: p. x). It has of course not been possible to fully contextualize all of the examples of Ecclesiastes’ reception presented here, but I hope that will not be conceived Preface xiv Preface as a criticism. This commentary provides a portal of sorts to more in-depth investigation, and it is hoped that at least some of these examples will tempt readers to get out their spades and dig further. Indeed, this is precisely my own experience. In the course of research I was so enticed by the story of Voltaire’s Précis of Ecclesiastes that I selected it as a case study for detailed scrutiny (the results of which are published in Christianson 2005). I have done my best, therefore, to point the way to studies that fill out the areas that this commen- tary has by necessity excluded. And with primary material I have spent many hours producing as full and as accurate references as I could manage. As for selection, I do not pretend to have followed an objective set of cri- teria. I have, however, sought to indicate the ongoing relationship in Ecclesi- astes’ reading history between the well established and the subversive. While in many cases my own proclivities have biased me to showcase the latter, sub- versive readings nevertheless can say a great deal about what is conventional. Often the selection was driven by a moment of piqued curiosity or by the recognition of some strange and perceptive response to Qoheleth’s words. In such a choice there is little in the way of science. Readers would of course be right to recognize the inordinate swelling of the Introduction, an abscess that suggests some form of unchecked verbal abandon, but the growth comes from the inordinate attention given by readers to the person of Qoheleth and the tenor of the book. In the manner of Ray Bradbury’s hero Guy Montag/Ecclesiastes in Fahrenheit 451, Ecclesiastes itself has become a byword for all sorts of critical ideas. The same can be said for the Testimonia chapter, which compiles citations on a range of subjects that authors have in some way related to ‘Qoheleth’ or the book as a whole. It is perhaps due to the manageable size of Ecclesiastes and its relatively easily grasped themes that writers have characterized its entirety with alarming frequency. About seven years ago John Sawyer invited me to write this commentary. I immediately warmed to the spirit of the series but was wary of retreading material I had previously covered. Indeed, I set to work on a proposal for another book and surprised myself by coming to the conclusion that I did not want anyone else to write the Ecclesiastes volume! I am, then, immensely grate- ful to John for the invitation. The project has transformed my views on the nature of interpretation. In charting this vast interpretive activity, I have been truly overwhelmed by the support of friends and colleagues who have been generous with their time, resources and skills. Among those who brought relevant material to my atten- tion, I would like to thank George Aichele, Andy Benson, Jane Day, Paul Fiddes, Paul Joyce and Tina Nicolson. I would also like to thank those who have kindly made available to me their unpublished or soon-to-be published Preface xv work (often in the form of old conference papers which their authors had presumed forgotten!): Rebecca Beal, Howard Clarke, Eric Eliason, Paul Flesher, Michael Fox, Larry Kreitzer, Scott Langston and Anthony Perry. I must offer particular thanks to Robin MacGregor Lane who allowed me to make use of his as yet unpublished translation of Jerome’s commentary on Ecclesiastes. David Gunn, John Jarick, John Sawyer and Anthony Thiselton each gave of their valuable time reading portions of this book, and I am grateful for their many improvements (and I hereby exonerate them of any errors that follow). I am also grateful to those who kindly provided their translation skills: Andrew Dawson, Robert Evans, Terry McWilliams and Victor Morales (who also located some very useful material during a stint as research assistant). My own understanding of many of the odd occurrences of reception has benefited from conversations with friends and colleagues, for which I offer particular thanks to Trevor Dennis, John Jarick, Chris Partridge and Mike Williams. Mike’s knowledge of classical music and perceptive listening skills was positively enlightening. Colleagues in the Department of Theology and Religious Studies at the University of Chester have supported this work in numerous ways, and I offer them my wholehearted thanks. And thanks as well to the editorial staff at Blackwell – in particular, Hannah Berry, Rebecca Harkin, Andrew Humphries, Karen Wilson, Jean van Altena and Cameron Laux – who have shown remarkable patience and support for this long-term project. Of course a project like this requires exceptional resources, and many library staff have offered far more of their time and expertise than can reasonably be expected. They include: staff at St Deiniols library in Hawarden, North Wales (Peter Francis, Jenny Jones, Gregory Morris, Karen Parry, Nicola Pickett and Patsy Williams); staff in charge of rare collections at the Bodleian and University of Cambridge libraries; staff at the University of Chester library, in particular our indefatigable inter-library loan officer, Donna Crookall. A special note of thanks must be offered to Catherine Milnes, who under- took a work placement as my research assistant in the early stages. It was not until I had reached the latter stages of writing that I came to realize the aston- ishing energy and detail of Catherine’s work, particularly on the vanitas arts tradition. She was, it seems, as enamoured as I with this extraordinary interpre- tive history. I would like to thank my parents, who continue to show their support across many miles of ocean. I also thank Bob and Carol Rowberry, my parents in-law. They will never know just how much their unstinting generosity has enriched my life in the UK. I can offer only the most inadequate thanks to my wife, Sonya, for once again enduring my obsession with Qoheleth, but also for showing me uncommon support (including late night coffee and toast!). xvi Preface Finally, our children, Juliana and Elliot, have supported me no less with laugh- ter and a steady stream of reality doses. A Pragmatic Note In the commentary proper each chapter begins with a brief précis of the passage and its literary context in Ecclesiastes. The remainder of each chapter charts its interpreters. These readings are arranged chronologically, but are not cat- egorized under epochs or interpretive provenances (the only exceptions are the sections that deal with 1:1–2 and 12:1–7, which suited another scheme). Readers can, however, find extensive discussion of roughly conceived shifts of reading Ecclesiastes along such lines in the Introduction (e.g. Ecclesiastes in Renaissance readings, in modern literature etc.). I have sought to preserve the variant spellings of early and pre-modern English, and I have not inserted ‘sic’ where exclusive language occurs (I use it only sparingly to clarify sense). Such language is so frequent in the sources that it would have become tiresome to do so. Eric S. Christianson 1 March 2006 TestimoniaThe Vagaries of Interpreting Ecclesiastes For just as those who have trained in wrestling in the gymnasium strip for greater exertions and efforts in the athletic contests, so it seems to me that the teaching of Proverbs is an exercise, which trains our souls and makes them supple for the struggle with Ecclesiastes. . . . Indeed, one could think of every hyperbole and still not properly express in words what great struggles the contest with this scripture involves for the contestants, as they fight for a foothold for their thoughts, using their skill as athletes so that they may not find their argument overthrown, but in every intellectual encounter keep the mind on its feet to the end through the truth. Gregory of Nyssa, Homilies on Ecclesiastes, c.380 (hom. 1, in Gregory of Nyssa 1993: 33) 2 Testimonia [commenting on 1:9, ‘There is nothing new under the sun’:] A similar idea was suggested by the comic poet [Terence]: ‘Nothing has been said which has not been said before.’ Thus my teacher Donatus, when he would explain this verse, said, ‘They can go to hell who have said my interpretations before me.’ Jerome, Commentary on Ecclesiastes, 388/9 (in Kraus 1999–2000: 183) I, in my humility, have considered the writings and compositions of those who have commented on the book of Ecclesiastes, both the more ancient and those of later date, and have found that they divide themselves into several classes; some have explained it by strange and far-fetched primary interpretations; and some by deep and subtle scientific disquisitions; and some by the method of recondite interpretation have drawn from it just and right doctrines; but the phase of resemblance between them is, that they have all been forced to alter its sense with glossing expressions, and not one of them has given us reason by any suffi cient causes which he alleges, to give it any higher praise than that of ‘a rock which produces wholesome food’; or ‘a strong lion from whence cometh forth sweetness’. Isaac Aramah, Commentary on Ecclesiastes, 1492 (Preface, in Preston 1845: 14–15) This book is . . . one which no one has ever completely mastered. Indeed, it has been so distorted by the miserable commentaries of many writers that it is almost a bigger job to purify and defend the author from the notions which they have smuggled into him than it is to show his real meaning. Martin Luther, Notes on Ecclesiastes, 1532 (in Luther 1972: 7) If we look upon this Sermon in the Text, or any of the rest in the whole Book, as the word of man, though as the wisest of men, for so was King Solomon, we shall finde work for our wits to censure it, if not for our wilfulness to contradict it; (for no one book in all the Bible hath been more upon the rack, more stretched upon the tenter-hooks, by all sorts of men, then this) . . . Edward Hyde, Allegiance and Conscience Not Fled out of England . . . (1662: 18) It was impossible to compare the interpreters together, without being struck at the wonderful diversity of their opinions, which the light Solomon’s design and method appeared in to me gave me little room to expect . . . but the more I inquired into the grounds of every scheme that differed from mine, the more I found reason to conclude mine the most probable . . . For some find nothing in it but what appears to them perfectly agreable [sic] to the purest notions we can have of a revealed Doctrine; whereas others imagine they spy out Monsters, and discover many things which they can by no means reconcile with those notions, nor of consequence look upon as worthy of the holy Ghost. A. V. Desvoeux, A Philosophical and Critical Essay on Ecclesiastes (1760: pp. vii, 6) For I have observed that nearly all the commentators who had preceded me have almost entirely failed in doing justice to their task of interpretation. Moses Mendelssohn, Commentary on Ecclesiastes, 1770 (in Preston 1845: 73) Every fresh commentator either actually or virtually regards all his predecessors as having misunderstood Coheleth. C. D. Ginsburg, Coheleth (1861: 73) . . . the Book of Ecclesiastes [is] one of the wisest and one of the worst under- stood books in the Bible. Matthew Arnold, A Speech at Eton, 1879 (in Arnold 1973: 31) Ecclesiastes passed formerly as the most obscure book of the Bible. This is only the opinion of theologians, and in reality is completely false. The book, as a whole, is very clear; only the theologians had a major interest to find it obscure. Ernest Renan, L’Ecclésiaste (1882: 15; my tr.) . . . we have now reviewed the main lines of interpretation of this fascinating Book. I do not know how far any one of them has satisfied you, but none of them completely satisfies me. J. S. Wright, ‘The Interpretation of Ecclesiastes’ (1946: 21) How many far-fetched theories have been hazarded by modern writers who are locked up in their own crippling presuppositions? Even the vagaries and extravagances of ancient exegesis can have a sobering effect on current scholarship. Roland E. Murphy, ‘Qohelet Interpreted’ (1982: 336) It may be that in the last resort Qoheleth is a mirror which reflects the soul of the interpreter. If so, there is sufficient vanity in scholarship to appreciate reliable mirrors. James Crenshaw, ‘Qoheleth in Current Research’ (1983: 51) Since one of Qohelet’s themes is the inability of human enterprise to seize and hold, to take possession of a thing, it is perhaps no accident that the book eludes the attempts of interpretive activity to fix its meaning determinately . . . It is always interesting to see where the ‘interpretive sweat’ breaks out in dealing with such an iconoclastic book. Carol A. Newsom, ‘Job and Ecclesiastes’ (1995: 190, 191) The Vagaries of Interpreting Ecclesiastes 3 4 Testimonia Charting a Harsh Terrain When . . . I had made myself, as I apprehended, a tolerable master of the subject [of interpreting Ecclesiastes], I set about the work, which, after all, proved a far more laborious task than I at first imagined, not only from the phraseology peculiar to this Book, which in many places, is dark enough in itself, and rendered still darker from the prodigious variety of arbitrary interpretations, but sometimes also from the difficulty of finding out the true connexion of the several parts, which, on a cursory view, seem to have no dependence on each other. Anonymous, Choheleth, or the Royal Preacher (1765: p. vi) It would be very difficult to distinguish the parts and arrangement of this produc- tion; the order of the subject and the connexion of the arguments are involved in so much obscurity, that scarcely any two commentators have agreed concerning the plan of the work. The style of this work is . . . singular; the language is gener- ally low, I might almost call it mean or vulgar; it is frequently loose, unconnected, approaching to the incorrectness of conversation; and possesses very little of the poetical character, even in the composition and structure of the periods. Robert Lowth, Lectures on the Sacred Poetry of the Hebrews, 1787 (in Lowth 1995: 2.174–5) [Ecclesiastes] reminds me of the remains of a daring explorer, who has met with some terrible accident, leaving his shattered form exposed to the encroachments of all sorts of foul vermin. Paul Haupt, ‘The Book of Ecclesiastes’, 1894 (in G. A. Barton 1959: 28) In the river of revelation these chapters of Ecclesiastes seem to lie in some quiet and shadowy backwater, far removed from the central stream. Wilfrid Johnson Moulton, c.1925 (in Scott 1929: 74) It is a sort of scrapbook collection of contradictory meditations on identical themes. Here the lore of the sages turns in upon itself, comments on and refutes itself . . . The effect of such a methodology is to open vacuous chasms in knowl- edge and experience. This is destructive criticism; even the alternative offered by Job is passed by . . . Lawrence B. Porter, ‘Bankruptcy: The Words of Qoheleth, Son of David, King in Jerusalem’ (1969: 3042) . . . there is a tremendous interpretive pressure to raise the valleys and lower the hills, to make the way straight and level before the reader. But a reading faithful to this book, at least, should try to describe the territory with all its bumps and clefts, for they are not mere flaws, but the essence of the landscape. Michael V. Fox, Qohelet and his Contradictions (1989: 28) Inasmuch as it would be absurd to criticize a Rubik’s Cube for the problems it presents to its user, so it is with the text of Ecclesiastes. Gary Salyer, Vain Rhetoric (2001: 147) Qoheleth the Philosopher How then do I interpret the words, Koheleth sought to find out words of delight? Koheleth sought to pronounce verdicts from his own insight [lit. ‘that are in the heart’], without witnesses and without warning . . . Babylonian Talmud, c.450 (b. Rosh Hashanah 21b) [Qoheleth] contemplates, teaches, mourns, comforts, imparts counsel, contra- dicts, and corrects himself . . . The author is no dogmatic and phlegmatic teacher, but a warm and animated examiner of truth. To a philosopher, it is essential to listen to the opposite opinions. He, without regarding his own system, listens to all objections which can be made, and does not fear the consequences of state- ments he admits . . . [He] candidly places before the eyes of the reader all the objections which he makes, and all that transpires in his inmost soul; he is not afraid to think aloud. David Friedländer, Der Prediger, 1788 (in Ginsburg 1861: 79–80) This book contains the investigations of several associations of literary men among the Israelites; it contains propositions which at that time formed the limits of philosophic speculation, and which seem to have been proposed inten- tionally, to agitate and to explain doubts, and thus to develop the intellectual faculties. J. C. C. Nachtigal, Koheleth, 1798 (in Ginsburg 1861: 192) It is an autobiography with a purpose. The book may seem unnatural, but it is because the life was a calculation . . . He seems to be a fool, but he is rather a wise man making experiments in folly – a philosopher blowing bubbles from which may come out the science of light. James Bennet, The Wisdom of the King (1870: 5) He was reverent, sincerely reverent . . . The joys of youth and friendship, of home and garden, are fleeting, but after all they are real, and in spite of all the sorrow Qoheleth the Philosopher 5 6 Testimonia in the world we need not hesitate to enjoy them while they last: they are God’s gifts. Koheleth has not a satisfying philosophy of life. He has very little theology. He does have, however, something which in its intense earnestness and its stead- fast allegiance to both reason and conscience, both mind and heart, well deserves to be called faith. Millar Burrows, ‘Kuhn and Koheleth’ (1927: 97) He stepped into the world of letters as a mature thinker. He had suffered much and seen much, and had formed the habit of looking at life analytically, search- ing always for an answer. He treated his own existence as an experiment to be lived out like a play. And he lived it alone. Elizabeth Stone, ‘Old Man Koheleth’ (1942: 100) Ecclesiastes . . . thinks it best to let sleeping dogmas lie . . . [He] is a free-lance humanist . . . John Paterson, ‘The Intimate Journal of an Old-Time Humanist’ (1950: 245) [Qoheleth] is ‘disillusioned’ only in the sense that he has realized that an illusion is a self-constructed prison. He is not a weary pessimist tired of life: he is a vigorous realist determined to smash his way through every locked door of repression in his mind. Northrop Frye, The Great Code (1982: 123) He is a man for the eighties, a private-sectorite. But being a personality who wears contradictions without discomfort, he has another side, one that suits another realm – the realm of the artist, where a restless spirit of inquiry soars beyond the walls of the status quo. Daphne Merkin, ‘Ecclesiastes: A Reading out-of-Season’ (1987: 401–2) Qoheleth is an ‘intellectual’ in a sense otherwise unknown to the Old Testament. In his remorseless determination to probe the nature of things he belongs to a new world of thought, though . . . his sense of God’s transcendence (‘God is in heaven, and you upon the earth’, 5:2) is a Jewish inheritance which distinguishes him quite radically from the secular philosopher . . . To some extent . . . Eccle- siastes stands as a lonely beacon in a dark and largely uncharted literary ocean. R. N. Whybray, Ecclesiastes (1989: 7, 8) At most we could concede that the ‘subjects treated’ by Qohelet are also phi- losophers’ favourite subjects – subjects that metaphysics has dealt with. But nothing more . . . Let us leave metaphysics to the metaphysicians, then, so that we can listen to Qohelet speak without metaphysicians’ discourse interfering. This way we will see that he speaks differently from them. Jacques Ellul, Reason for Being: A Meditation on Ecclesiastes (1990: 27) Wrought by Melancholy The Book of Ecclesiastes . . . is written as the solitary reflections of a worn-out debauchee, such as Solomon was, who looking back on scenes he can no longer enjoy, cries out All is Vanity! . . . From what is transmitted to us of the character of Solomon, he was witty, ostentatious, dissolute, and at last melancholy. He lived fast, and died, tired of the world, at the age of fifty-eight years . . . Seven hundred wives, and three hundred concubines would have stood in place of the whole book. It was needless after this to say that all was vanity and vexation of spirit; for it is impossible to derive happiness from the company of those whom we deprive of happiness. Thomas Paine, The Age of Reason, II, 1794 (in Paine 1896: 4.127–8) Ecclesiastes had diffused a seriousness and solemnity over the frame of his spirit [i.e. of Jesus Christ, who ‘probably’ studied this scripture], glowing with youth- ful hope, and made audible to his listening heart The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh or grating, but of ample power To chasten and subdue. Percy Shelley, ‘Essay on Christianity’, c.1820 (in Shelley 1880: 2.341; the lines Shelley cites are from William Wordsworth’s ‘Lines Written a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey’ [1798], ll. 91–3) The Book of Ecclesiastes has been called sceptical, epicurean; it is certainly without the glow and hope which animate the Bible in general. Matthew Arnold, Literature and Dogma, 1873 (in Arnold 1968: 207) He is an uncompromising pessimist, who sees the world as it is. Everything that seems pleasant or profitable is vanity and a grasping of wind; there is nothing positive but pain, nothing real but the eternal Will, which is certainly unknow- able and probably unconscious. These truths . . . are the bitter fruits of that rare knowledge, increase of which is increase of sorrow. E. J. Dillon, The Sceptics of the Old Testament (1895: 113) The truth is, he was a disappointed man, and there are two sorts of disappointed men in life . . . The man who is disappointed because he has not got, may have still the fascination of his hopes before him. But the man who has got what he desires and is then disappointed, has pricked the bubble, and knows the meaning of emptiness and vexation of spirit. E. E. Cleal, Christian World Pulpit, 1907 (in Nicoll and Stoddart 1910: 531) Wrought by Melancholy 7 8 Testimonia A Chopin prelude always is saddening, and Milton’s ‘L’Allegro’ never fails to liven up a leaden day. Koheleth, however, merely brings defeat and gladness into sharper outline in their relationship to each other, and does not deny or praise one or the other . . . His book is a record of profound personal disillusionment, which has ground him until he no longer feels it as anything but a faint taste of ashes in the mouth, and the red gone out of the sunset . . . Koheleth has not always been bored, and he participated passionately in the life around him, but in the end he set down his pen, and was only tired with life, and frustrated in his search to see something beyond it . . . Although the irony of his statements is apparent, I cannot think of them as being offered with a smile. Elizabeth Stone, ‘Old Man Koheleth’ (1942: 99, 102) There may have been many a melancholy streak in his nature that disposed him to look at the shadier sides of life. He is the original ‘gloomy dean’. He had hung his harp on the weeping willows and it moaned in the breeze . . . Job is an eagle soaring in the face of the sun, but Ecclesiastes is a land-blown bird with bedrag- gled wings and no power of fl ight. John Paterson, ‘The Intimate Journal of an Old-Time Humanist’ (1950: 251) He is a pathological doubter of everything, stemming from a drastic emotional experience, a psychic disturbance. He is doubtful about himself as a person of worth and character. He has no self-esteem or value of himself. His doubt has destroyed all values. He is an inferior, of no account, and he demeans himself constantly. His doubts come from a parapathy, a disease of the mind which he shares with many neurotics. Frank Zimmermann, The Inner World of Qohelet (1973: 8) I cannot imagine what it is like to read Ecclesiastes on a sunny day under a clear sky. It is, however much the pious commentators bustle in with their ready assuagements, a depressive’s lament – perfect reading for a gray day . . . Nothing suffi ces for this acquisition-happy malcontent, this Biblical character blessed with the dazzling ‘life style’ of a corporate raider but burdened with the wrong soul – the soul of a Flaubert. Like that other great connoisseur of ennui, Koheleth is acutely aware of the ‘boredom and ignominies of existence’, and would, I suspect, agree with the nineteenth-century writer’s calibrated assessment: ‘I admire tinsel as much as gold: indeed the poetry of tinsel is even greater, because it is sadder’. Daphne Merkin, ‘Ecclesiastes: A Reading out-of-Season’ (1987: 393–5) In Job, Job’s friends and ultimately even God argue against Job, but in Qohelet, no such opposition – human or divine – ever appears to mitigate Qohelet’s unrelenting pessimism. Paul Flesher, ‘The Wisdom of the Sages’ (1990) Preacher of Joy . . . he quickly changes from an observing inquirer into an instructing and coun- seling senior friend, and to our great surprise advances the most beautiful maxims about caution and patience, fidelity and thoughtful industry . . . he at last concludes, from his observations, experiments, and researches, that there is no other lasting good for man than serene joy in God, comprising as it does everything else. Georg H. A. Ewald, Sprüche Salomo’s, Koheleth, 1837 (in Ginsburg 1861: 210) We marvel at the prodigality of nature, but how marvellous, too, the economy! The old cycles are for ever renewed, and it is no paradox that he who would advance can never cling too close to the past. The thing that has been is the thing that will be again; if we realize that, we may avoid many of the disillusions, miseries, insanities that for ever accompany the throes of new birth. Set your shoulder joyously to the world’s wheel: you may spare yourself some unhappiness if, beforehand, you slip the book of Ecclesiastes beneath your arm. Havelock Ellis, The New Spirit, 1890 (in Ellis 1926: 33) He looks at life in its vast sweep and, with a broad outlook on the world-order, sees not ground for despair, but order, reason, symmetry, and beauty – signs of an Infinite Wisdom and Goodness over all. He does not affirm that the world- order is meaningless, but, which is an altogether different thing, its meaning is beyond man’s power utterly to fathom. This is not the impertinence of pessi- mism but the words of a real reverence, a mood of the spirit which we all do well to cultivate, in his opinion. James A. Greissinger, ‘The Worst-Understood Book’ (1909: 740) So much in the world seems but an endless and wearying and unrewarding cycle of no more substance than a breath of wind over the desert. But this is no sterile wind blowing over empty places. And Koheleth is not a creation of T. S. Eliot – he is no Gerontion, no ‘old man in a dry month, being read to by a boy . . .’ There is no sense of futility here. Puzzlement, perhaps, and a sense of the absurdity of the world. But no desire to reject the world because it contains Preacher of Joy 9 10 Testimonia so much ugliness and wrong. For the world of Koheleth contains beauty and joy as well. Joan Abramson, The Faces of Israel (in Abramson and Freulich 1972: 15) In the popular mind a happy Koheleth is an oxymoron: how could the sage who was convinced that ‘all is vanity’ have been capable of enjoyment? It is true that an ésprit de serieux hovers over the intelligent thinkers, by and large, and Kohelet is no exception . . . The problem is that although thinkers such as Kohelet try to be holistic and integrative, most readers tend to think atomistically, in terms of either/or . . . [Kohelet’s] is a religious vision embracing the insoluble tension between divine transcendence and human aspiration and responsibility . . . And when one reads Kohelet from the perspective of comedy, which is the upset and recovery of the protagonist’s equilibrium, it becomes clear that his existential ‘bottom line’ is not ‘vanity of vanities’, but rather ‘Sweet is the light, and it is good for the eyes to see the sun. And however many years a person may live, let him rejoice in them all . . .’ [11:7–8] Étan Levine, ‘The Humor in Qohelet’ (1997: 82–3) . . . Ecclesiastes advocates resignation without despair, that is, cultivating an inner attitude toward life that strives to transcend the tragic limitations and sorrows of existence through a frank and courageous acceptance that they cannot be transformed. Ecclesiastes thus promotes dedicating oneself to striving after joy in life, not so much for the reasons the idealistic pious believe, because it is a gift from God to be treasured, but because the search for joy is the only sen- sible goal considering the frustrating, tragic, and fundamentally futile nature of existence. Freud probably saw life in a similar way when he wrote that the purpose of psychoanalysis was to transform hysterical misery into common unhappiness. Paul Marcus, ‘The Wisdom of Ecclesiastes and its Meaning for Psychoanalysis’ (2000: 248) True to Life This book is like the basin which Moses made out of the mirrors of the women. For he taught not only to see men’s faces in such mirrors, but to see their minds as well. Ecclesiastes also made this book out of the copper and the mirrors of women for the viewing of the minds of men . . . Therefore Ecclesiastes sees in this mirror whatever men do in the world. Rupert of Deutz, Commentary on Ecclesiastes, 1197 (in Eliason 1989: 74 n. 65) This great Connoisseur of human nature would not have us to be always laugh- ing, with Democritus, nor always weeping, with Heraclitus; but as, on some occasions, to be very serious, so, on others, to indulge social Mirth with more than ordinary freedom, provided we keep within the bounds of reason and moderation. Anonymous, Choheleth, or the Royal Preacher (1765: p. xiii) He speaks for humanity, and his words have always found an echo. His book is a great monologue, which presents life to us in its energetic traits, and its laconic style shews the profoundness of the thinker. It is scepticism softened by maxims. S. Cahen, La Bible, 1848 (in Ginsburg 1861: 90) This Preacher, I am willing to believe, had felt all that man’s heart could feel; but he had no suspicion of what man is allowed to know. The human mind in his day overpowered science; in our day it is science that overpowers the human mind. Ernest Renan, c.1870 (in Scott 1929: 78) He has trodden the very paths we tread. He shares our craving and has pursued our quest after ‘that which is good’. He has been misled by the illusions by which we are beguiled. And his aim is to save us from fruitless researches and defeated hopes by placing his experience at our command. Samuel Cox, The Book of Ecclesiastes (1896: 209) The Preacher belongs in the company of such spirits as Dante, Browning, Ten- nyson, Amiel, Paschal, and their like, who have through long years brooded on the meaning of life. His dozen autobiographical pages, wrought with literary art, replete with epigram, reveal a gentle, sensitive spirit, sincere, honest, reverent, not without the saving grace of good humor, genial, urbane, cosmopolitan, tolerant. The book is a wonderfully human document. James A. Greissinger, ‘The Worst-Understood Book’ (1909: 737) Koheleth belongs to the small coterie of books that do not grow old . . . He is almost brutally frank in holding the mirror up to life. For all that, he is neither a scoffer nor a pessimist. He loves life and has intense sympathy with the strug- gles and sufferings of humanity, but he smiles at the attempts of zealous reform- ers to change human nature or to improve a state of things, which (as he believes) follows logically from the conditions under which mankind carves out its career. Koheleth is not a cold and severely logical philosopher, intent upon building up a system of thought, but an easy-going dilettante who unfolds in a series of charming, witty and loosely connected causeries his view of life, as gained by a long and varied experience . . . Koheleth is serious in what he says, though he True to Life 11 12 Testimonia always speaks with a slight ironical smile on his lips, but he does not want us to take him too seriously, just as he himself does not want to take life too seriously. The human interest of the book is all the more intense because of its main con- clusion, that life itself is a paradox. Life is made to be enjoyed, and yet enjoyment is ‘vanity’. Morris Jastrow, A Gentle Cynic (1919: 8–9) His words reveal a sensitive soul, sensitive alike to the joys of life and to its dis- heartening and inexplicable disappointments. Millar Burrows, ‘Kuhn and Koheleth’ (1927: 95) [Ecclesiastes] defeats all endeavors to force upon it interior self-consistency and harmony, and in its inclusion of many points of view, even though at odds with one another, it remains true to life. Harry Emerson Fosdick, A Guide to Understanding the Bible, 1938 (in Fosdick 1965: 182) Like a candleflame in mist, we cannot see him or touch him or name him, and yet he is there. And as surely as food gives a fragrance and drums resound, Koheleth gives us his own particular light, whether he is one or many men, whether the page has felt the point of one or many pens . . . Koheleth, illusive and fantastic and quixotic though he may be, has entrenched himself fi rmly in our life and background, and we may challenge his right to sit there, but he goes right on sitting. He, or it or they, belongs to us, and the warring philosophies tied into the few pages of the book of Ecclesiastes exist to contradict and augment each other and intrigue the critics and yet there is a completeness in the thing. Elizabeth Stone, ‘Old Man Koheleth’ (1942: 98) In the deepest sense, Koheleth is a religious book, because it seeks to grapple with reality . . . This cry of a sensitive spirit wounded by man’s cruelty and igno- rance, this distilled essence of an honest and courageous mind, striving to pen- etrate the secret of the universe, yet unwilling to soar on the wings of faith beyond the limits of the knowable, remains one of man’s noblest offerings on the altar of truth. Robert Gordis, Koheleth – The Man and his World (1955: 122) Not to the nonsense-writers, the archaic conformists, the purblind antiquarians, for whom Koheles was and probably will ever be a nasty and a naughty word, shall we go for enlightenment . . . Koheles is a book of Jewish philosophy, Bible style . . . It is written as one speaks rather than as one thinks and, at a few points, the writer gets so emotionally involved that he becomes self- contradictory . . . [F]or those who want the story straight, who do not want to be fl imfl ammed, bull-dozed or hypnotized by the so-called teachers of the many phony religious beliefs and practices that infest the earth, Koheles is one of the truly great (and there are not many of them) . . . David Max Eichhorn, Musings of the Old Professor (1963: 2, 247, 254) All he finds in [the world] is contradictions, which do not fit in with God. He cannot pile up enough contradictory concepts to describe the ambiguity of existence . . . All these contradictions he finds not following each other or accom- panying each other, providing a meaningful solution to one or complementing each other, but confused and entangled with each other, entwined with each other in a meaningless way, cutting across and destroying each other in mutual hostility, apparently without end. The world he describes is enigmatic, discordant and contradictory – it is the world in which we live. But where is God in it? Heinz Zahrnt, What Kind of God?, 1971 (in Short 1973: 76) The man had so much insight into the absurdities of the world. His words strip away the rationalizations of life and yet leave us with all the more reason to live and to enjoy . . . He punctured the illusions of life – but always with a compas- sionate and never a barbed pen. Perhaps in so doing he could not allow himself even the shadow of an illusion so vain – he could not permit the thought that his own words might remain after him as his own immortality. It is possible. It is also possible that he is indulging his humor at our expense – that he is fi shing; that he fully expects his reader to protest. I think he knew the value of his words. Joan Abramson, The Faces of Israel (in Abramson and Freulich 1972: 21) Koheleth comes to us having faced down the existential void, the hollowness at the heart of the getting and spending that is the human enterprise . . . There is, to be sure, a bracing – even healing – aspect to the stark realism of the writer’s vision, a way in which his resolute emphasis on the transience of all things human can be said to be a cloud-chaser. Still, the ‘charm’ of Ecclesiastes is a tonic charm, a somewhat bitter-tasting dose of our own dust-to-dustness . . . Koheleth cuts a less than imposing, recognizably human figure. Shamelessly inconsistent in his reasoning, though always a bottom-liner, with what relief we fall upon him! Daphne Merkin, ‘Ecclesiastes: A Reading out-of-Season’ (1987: 396–8) Ecclesiastes speaks to people in tough binds, people with vendettas, a bone to pick, no dog to kick, the sour-grapers, the hurt, those who’ve never shucked off True to Life 13 14 Testimonia their adolescent angst. In general tones the preacher speaks to the bummed-out. All is weariness, the soul cannot utter it. Louise Erdrich, ‘The Preacher’ (1995: 235) Qoheleth and Christianity Everywhere Ecclesiastes, teaching us by dark sayings [di ’ainigmatōn], sends us to the other life. Olympiodorus, Commentary on Ecclesiastes, c.510 (on 3:21, in Hirshman 1958: 143 n. 16) ‘It reminds me,’ said Elder Staples, ‘of the sad burden of Ecclesiastes, the mourn- fulest book of Scripture; because, while the preacher dwells with earnestness upon the vanity and uncertainty of the things of time and sense, he has no apparent hope of immortality to relieve the dark picture. Like Horace, he sees nothing better than to eat his bread with joy and drink his wine with a merry heart. It seems to me the wise man might have gone farther in his enumeration of the folly and emptiness of life, and pronounced his own prescription for the evil vanity also. What is it but plucking flowers on the banks of the stream which hurries us over the cataract, or feasting on the thin crust of a volcano upon delicate meats prepared over the fires which are soon to ingulf us? Oh, what a glorious contrast to this is the gospel of Him who brought to light life and immortality! The transition from the Koheleth to the Epistles of Paul is like passing from a cavern, where the artificial light falls indeed upon gems and crystals, but is everywhere circumscribed and overshadowed by unknown and unexplored darkness, into the warm light and free atmosphere of day.’ John Greenleaf Whittier, My Summer with Dr Singletary, c.1866 (in Whittier 1889: 5. 229–30) Ecclesiastes, like the first part of Goethe’s Faust, may, with the fullest justice, be called an apology for Christianity, not as containing anticipations of Christian truth . . . but inasmuch as it shows that neither wisdom, nor any other human good or human pleasure, brings permanent satisfaction to man’s natural longings. T. K. Cheyne, Job and Solomon (1887: 249) [Ecclesiastes] pushes the logic of a non-Christian position with tremendous force, to all who feel keenly the misery of the world. More vividly than anything else in the Old Testament, it shows us how imperious was the necessity for the revelation of God in Christ. A. S. Peake, The Problem of Suffering in the Old Testament (1904: 135) Qoheleth and Justice The author . . . was a pious Israelite . . . whose heart was greatly touched with the sufferings of his brethren, and who felt himself compelled to impart unto them his well-meant written counsel under these oppressions . . . He was . . . anxious, if not to remove, at least to mitigate their misfortunes, by offering salutary precau- tions to his brethren for those fearful times. Georg H. A. Ewald, Das Hohelied Salomo’s überfeßt mit Einleitung, 1826 (in Ginsburg 1861: 206) . . . the book has been said, and with justice, to breathe resignation at the grave of Israel. Its author sees ‘the tears of the oppressed, and they had no comforter, and on the side of their oppressors there was power; wherefore I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive.’ [4:1–2] He sees ‘all things come alike to all, there is one event to the righteous and to the wicked’. [9:2] Attempts at a philosophic indifference appear, at a sceptical suspension of judgment, at an easy ne quid nimis: ‘Be not righteous overmuch, neither make thyself overwise! why shouldst thou destroy thyself?’ [7:16] Vain attempts, even at a moment which favoured them! shows of scepticism, vanishing as soon as uttered before the intractable conscientiousness of Israel. Matthew Arnold, Literature and Dogma, 1873 (in Arnold 1968: 207) Qoheleth has his place in the long history of the battle of the Jewish conscience against injustice in the world. He represents a pause in the struggle. Ernest Renan, L’Ecclésiaste (1882: 39–40; my tr.) He has nothing of the flaming indignation of an Amos, nothing of the crusading spirit. He is not tough-minded. He cannot even blame corrupt officials: it is the system that is at fault, and the individual is helpless. Millar Burrows, ‘Kuhn and Koheleth’ (1927: 96) Here within the canon of Jewish Scripture . . . popular fatalism and pessimism were given forceful and fearless utterance. Here the creed of those who cried, ‘Where is the God of justice?’ found an eloquent voice, and the spiritual insights by which the seers of Israel had tried to illumine the age-long problem of evil faced derisive denial. Harry Emerson Fosdick, A Guide to Understanding the Bible, 1938 (in Fosdick 1965: 181) Ecclesiastes was struck by the fact that time and again, according to his experi- ence, it is as if man lives in an ethically indifferent universe. Ecclesiastes believed that there was a God who had creative and boundless power, but that He often did not wish to intervene in human history at the appropriate time, or if He did Qoheleth and Justice 15 16 Testimonia intervene, it was usually too little, too late. Ecclesiastes passionately protests against a world in which the powerful are evil and the weak vulnerable to victimization. Paul Marcus, ‘The Wisdom of Ecclesiastes and its Meaning for Psychoanalysis’ (2000: 236) IntroductionSo, naturalists observe, a fl ea Hath smaller fleas that on him prey; And these have smaller fleas to bite ’em, And so proceed ad infi nitum. Thus every poet, in his kind, Is bit by him that comes behind. Jonathan Swift, ‘On Poetry’ There is something parasitic about the interpretive enterprise, be it either in what we call academic or cultural reception. Indeed, Qoheleth has been subject to all manner of ‘biting’, and it is a miracle that he has survived (his most infl uential interpreters have not escaped harm either, particularly Jerome). 18 Introduction But then it is entirely Qoheleth’s fault. His story is simply too good for us fl eas to pass up. Too inviting a feast lies before us. This is exemplified by the major- ity of instances that make up this commentary, in which readers from innu- merable contexts have recognized Ecclesiastes as existentially valuable and simply charming. Above all, Ecclesiastes presents a profoundly ambiguous and yet oddly compelling argument, one that rests on Qoheleth’s own self-portrait, and which demands decisions from readers. The dark terrain it surveys and demanding concepts it clarifies are rarely comfortable, which makes its mag- netism all the more puzzling. As Carol Newsom observes, ‘Ecclesiastes . . . makes people profoundly uncomfortable, a fact that renders its reception history particularly fascinating’ (1995: 190). Ecclesiastes’ interpretive history discloses some salient features. First, readers have habitually engaged less with the complexities of Qoheleth’s words and more with Qoheleth himself. This is partly due to what John Paterson diag- nosed as Qoheleth’s ‘I trouble’ (1950: 251), that overbearing sense of self that fi lls nearly every passage (see Christianson 1998a: 33–42 et passim). The por- trait is a seductive one, drawn with great detail and conviction, and Qoheleth’s path to wisdom has proved irresistible to his legion readers, on whose imagina- tions his persona has been indelibly inscribed. Second, Ecclesiastes exhibits both extremes and inescapably iterative themes, which is highlighted by O. Loretz’s identification of 21.2 per cent of its verses as ‘thematic’ (1964: 179). Its very content has thus often effectively limited readers’ responses to polari- ties: mostly, to be sure, of hebel (a word that appears some 38 times and that signifi es, at the least, a deficit situation). Third, such responses have appeared with surprising regularity through the centuries. Indeed, most ‘of the main ideas that modern interpretation ascribes to Qohelet’, suggests Michael V. Fox, ‘can be found, with differing emphases, in the interpretations of the earliest exegetes – a fact that seems to show that the essential themes of the book are clear’ (1999: 349; cf. the similar views of Murphy [1982: 332] and J. R. Wright [2005: p. xxii]). Not only have the themes been relatively clear, but the her- meneutical issues that continue to vex Qoheleth (and generally biblical) studies surfaced surprisingly early on. So, for example, Gregory of Nyssa c.380 grapples with whether or not Qoheleth was a real or a fictive author (see p. 158); the Karaite commentator Yephet ben ‘Ali c.990 observes that Qoheleth identifi es himself as ‘I’ in 1:12 explicitly for the purpose of grounding his argument in experience (see pp. 31–32); A. V. Desvoeux anticipates a wealth of philological study in his richly detailed 234-page ‘essay’ on the subject (1760). It is worth noting some territories that will not be explored in this com- mentary. Ecclesiastes’ elusive structure is sparingly touched on in these pages, but it is fairly comprehensively covered in other literature (e.g. Fox 1999; Murphy 1992: pp. xxxv–xli; Salyer 2001: 143–64). Theories of direct infl uence (be it Hellenistic or Persian etc.), or of so-called Aramaisms in Qoheleth’s Hebrew, have enjoyed a long academic life. Indeed, late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century studies were particularly enamoured with the idea of Qohe- leth’s Greek ideological (if not ‘genetic’) parentage, and those studies still raise stimulating questions (see the relatively lengthy and typical treatment by G. A. Barton, 1959: 32–43 [orig. 1908]; more recent surveys are, of course, readily available, e.g. Fox 1999; Newsom 1995; Murphy 1990, and subsequent editions in 1996 and 2001). This can be more loosely conceived, in that Qoheleth may have drawn on Egyptian, Greek or Babylonian sources to inform his thinking (it seems that he at least engaged in the same sort of questions with the same sort of language); but studies in this area continue to make themselves available (see e.g. Brown’s recent discussion of parallels to the Epic of Gilgamesh [2000: 2–7] and Fischer’s on the influence of Egyptian Harpers’ songs [2002]). Whereas I am attempting to sketch Ecclesiastes’ ongoing life as a fully formed book, this latter group of questions is really about the glint in the milkman’s eye, and will therefore rarely surface here. 1 A History of Reception Histories Interest in the reception history of Ecclesiastes has been, particularly since the late nineteenth century, vigorous, and shows no sign of abating. Indeed, it is unusual for commentaries not to have at least a brief overview. In order to clarify the focus of this commentary, it will prove useful to survey this rich vein of work. From roughly the seventh century ce, catenas (commentary anthologies) were produced periodically. It seems that readers naturally come around to the desire to anthologize the interpretive enterprise, perhaps to better under- stand their own place in its ‘scheme’. It will suffice here to highlight a few signifi cant instances. One of the earliest to deal with Ecclesiastes is the work of Procopius of Gaza (c.650), which collected six early Christian commentaries on Ecclesiastes, and which shared some of the interpretive concerns of Jewish midrash (itself not unlike a catena; see Hirshman 1958). After Procopius’s catena one might note the Glossa ordinaria, compiled by Anselm of Laon (c.1100), representing patristic and early medieval exegesis on the entire Vulgate Bible (and in the case of Ecclesiastes, heavily dependent on Jerome’s commentary). Hugh of St Cher, c.1230–5, compiled a significantly broad range of views on Ecclesiastes from twelfth- and thirteenth-century commentators in order to supplement the Glossa. In the course of his own postil he let the cited views often take precedence over his own (see Smalley 1949: 345). The A History of Reception Histories 19 20 Introduction period of 1500–1700 sees a great deal of attention given to Ecclesiastes in moral, academic and poetic discourse (more on which below), but relatively little in the scrutiny of reception (Matthew Poole’s Synopsis Criticorum, pub- lished 1669–76, is certainly an exception). It is worth noting, however, that several exhaustive commentaries appear, such as that of J. de Pineda (Seville, 1619), which offer an overview of patristic exposition of Ecclesiastes. (For surveys of commentaries of this period and earlier see, in particular, Geitmann 2004 and Philippe 1926.) Several nineteenth-century studies show an acute interest in the contribu- tion of pre- and early modern reading to concurrent interpretation. A good example is Theodore Preston’s 1845 commentary that includes an English translation of Moses Mendelssohn’s commentary (1770) and various other portions of rabbinic and Christian commentaries, such as Rabbi Isaac Aramah’s preface to his 1492 commentary. James Darling’s 1859 compendium Cyclopae- dia Bibliographica is worth noting for its extensive list of commentaries and sermons ranging from the 1600s to the author’s day (1859: 2. cols 555–76). In terms of its influence on subsequent reception scholarship, however, pride of place belongs to Christian D. Ginsburg’s 1861 commentary (the product of ‘seven years’ labour’, p. viii) with its sweeping 216-page overview of Christian and Jewish readings across the centuries. Its relevance is enhanced by the com- mentary proper’s further engagement with those sources. Ginsburg’s selections are nearly all translated into English, often with the original language provided and of a substantial length. At the least, Ginsburg provided tantalizing examples from readings as diverse as Gregory of Nyssa and the Zohar. While Ginsburg’s work has undeniably proved its worth, it is not without its faults. As Sheldon Blank points out in his introduction to the 1970 reissue of Ginsburg, in ‘review- ing the literature one meets with any number of works which he does not list’ (1970: p. xi; note that Barton’s 1908 commentary quite credibly brings Gins- burg up to date, for those ‘who are interested in such curious details’; 1959: 18–31). No doubt readers will pass a similar judgment on this commentary, but I suspect that Ginsburg would agree that in neither case was some fantastic notion of totality either attainable or desired. Just within the last 60 years or so there have appeared more than 60 studies that survey Jewish and Christian readings (see the Bibliography, pp. 275–80) and I will highlight a few of them here. Roland E. Murphy’s long-time research and reflection on this area yielded invaluable results. He variously covered patristic commentary (1979, 1982), other traditional forms of exegesis (1982) and produced overall surveys (1992: pp. xlviii–lvi and 1993, both of which are summaries of earlier studies and more besides). Until his death in 2002, Murphy provided updates of academic approaches to Qoheleth in his introduction to wisdom literature, The Tree of Life (1990, and supplements in subsequent editions in 1996, 2001). Wide-ranging and well balanced, these remain perhaps the best surveys of recent Qoheleth scholarship.1 Michael V. Fox (1999) has written a concise and detailed article in the Dictionary of Biblical Interpretation. There he outlines traditional Jewish and Christian approaches and modern critical studies. The brief treatments of Ben Sira’s apparent knowledge of (and interaction with) Qoheleth and of the nature of the Septuagint translation are particularly useful (on which, see also Jarick in Gregory Thaumaturgos 1990: 5–6). For early Christian readings it is difficult to surpass the extensive treat- ment found in the recent Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture volume on Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Solomon (Wright 2005). As well as extensive bibliographical material for the patristic period, for Ecclesiastes there appears roughly 100 pages of selected translated passages ordered as commen- tary. The outstanding bibliographies that relate particularly to the history of reading are that of R. G. Lehmann in D. Michel’s commentary (1989: 290– 322), Marek Starowieyski’s bibliographical list of 187 Christian (and some Jewish) works on Ecclesiastes up to the Middle Ages (1993: 424–40) and Thomas Krüger’s ‘Influence’ section of his commentary bibliography (2004: 244–51). Four works in particular make Jewish sources on Ecclesiastes more acces- sible. The first I have already discussed: Ginsburg’s 1861 commentary, which has such useful items as a translation of the preface and first chapter of Ibn Ezra’s commentary on Ecclesiastes (1861: 46–56). The second is Meir Zlotow- itz’s 1994 (orig. 1976) commentary in the Artscroll Tanach series. Writing from a strictly Orthodox perspective, Zlotowitz makes extensive reference to a large number of traditional Jewish exegetes – e.g. Rashi, Rashbam, Ibn Ezra, Saadia Gaon – and provides a helpful biographical supplement. The third is A. J. Rosenberg’s Judaica Press edition of the Hagiographa (1992), which includes translation of all of Rashi’s commentary as well as selections from Sforno, Rashbam, Ibn Ezra and various talmudic and midrashic sources. The fourth is Michael V. Fox’s JPS commentary on Ecclesiastes (2004). The ‘over- view of interpretations’ section of his introduction (pp. xxii–xxx) helpfully surveys the main rabbinic approaches and, as befits the remit of that series, informs the exegesis of the whole commentary. As is the case with most biblical books, there has been little sustained atten- tion given to the impact of Ecclesiastes outside Jewish and Christian traditions to include its frankly staggering impact on the arts (especially literature), and certainly nothing like an overview. Partial exceptions to this are volumes that survey the Bible in literature (e.g. Norton 1993 and Jeffrey 1992) and more 1 Murphy’s 1993 survey of Qoheleth (and Proverbs) studies for Currents in Research: Biblical Studies is soon to be updated in that journal by Harold Washington. A History of Reception Histories 21 22 Introduction than 30 specialist reception history studies (see Bibliography, pp. 281–3). Most of these are from literary or historical disciplines and have scrutinized Eccle- siastes in, for example, Chekhov, Donne, Eliot, Goethe, Melville, Thackeray, Wordsworth and Voltaire. Some of these studies have also sought a broader overview of a theme or body of work relating to Ecclesiastes in literature (e.g. Hattaway 1968, Matsuda 1989). During roughly the last 100 years, from that body has appeared a benign but aberrant growth: some now commonplace literary allusions to Qoheleth in articles and monographs. Chief among these are from Melville’s Moby Dick, Shaw’s Man and Superman and Thackeray’s poem ‘Vanitas Vanitatum’. In each case the primary authors engaged in a more careful and sustained reading of Qoheleth than the brief citations (always of the same proportion) suggest. These brief expressions of interest in Qoheleth’s presence in the world of letters come only in passing and, much to my frustra- tion, generally without bibliographic references. (A good example is the fre- quent, and it seems erroneous, reference to Tennyson’s declaration that Ecclesiastes was ‘the greatest poem of ancient or modern times’. In fact, the citation is even more frequently applied to Job, but no one, to my knowledge, has been able to locate it.) And so the distinct focus of this commentary, while a part of the rich tradition of reception history, is its attention to cultural impact, as broadly conceived as possible. And the comments of one scholar of medieval literature, at the conclusion of her study of the Solomonic corpus, its interpretive tradition and their collective impact on Dante and Chaucer, is particularly instructive here: while scholars have readily admitted the extensive influence of the Book of Scripture on the culture of the [medieval] period, the way in which that infl uence affected the literature of the period has yet to be clarified. If the tradition regard- ing the libri Salomonis is any guide, the Biblical books provided writers with paradigms for narrative structures, suggested means of obtaining thematic and aesthetic unity, and played a more crucial role than we have known in the ref- erential context of the Middle Ages. (Beal 1982: 291–2) If this commentary goes some way to ‘clarifying’ the cultural influence of the extraordinary little book of Ecclesiastes, it will have succeeded. 2 Reading Strategies and Lines of Infl uence There are, to be sure, salient features of Ecclesiastes’ reception in a given historical period, and these are, I hope, brought out clearly enough in this commentary. However, organizing the material along lines of historical periodization alone has proved too simple. In the end, therefore, I have employed a combination of periodic and thematic organization. I am fully aware of the difficulties in any kind of hermeneutical categorization, particu- larly that of historic ‘periods’ (cf. M. Sæbø’s discussion of the problems posed by the term ‘Middle Ages’, in Sæbø 2000: 19–27), and the boundaries I have suggested should be regarded as fluid. Indeed, some interpretive paradigms survive quite well the seismic dominance of subsequent shifts. Euan Cameron’s description, then, of the ideological flux of the European Renaissance, is appli- cable here: ‘the old frameworks were not discarded overnight. Some of the new ideas seemed just as fanciful and obscure as the medieval lore which they chal- lenged. The old schemes proved quite elastic, and even exponents of the new science felt more secure if they clung to some of the earlier assumptions’ (2001: p. xxiii). I have suggested the following three periods: Pre-modern: –1500 Early modern: 1500–1800 Modern: 1800– These mainly follow European shifts of thinking as construed in the broadly conceived tags of ‘modernity’ that continue to enjoy currency. As readings in the pre-modern period are defined almost entirely by Jewish and Christian approaches, I have not sought to separate their treatment along these lines (this more easily enables developmental comparisons). Jewish and Christian inter- pretive traditions exhibit, at least in part, patterns (due mainly to shared ideo- logical commitments and the dominance of methods set out by infl uential fi gures and schools – though even then, pattern is a strong word), but this is far less the case in the multitude of other readings, especially those of poetry and fiction. From almost precisely 1500, the relatively clear lines of Jewish and Christian readings explode into more complex discourses, increasingly as art for art’s sake and increasingly political. For these reasons, in the other two periods I have introduced thematic categories, such as, for example, Renais- sance and Reform, Literature, Visual Art and so on. Pre-Modern Reading: –1500 Two prominent features of Ecclesiastes interpretation in the pre-modern period are worth noting here. The first is the working premise that Solomon wrote the book. The second is the programmatic reading of Ecclesiastes as a refutation of the vanity of the world. The latter of these is pretty well exclusively Pre-Modern Reading 23 24 Introduction Christian in provenance, while the former spans Jewish and Christian tradi- tions. While there were exceptions, both features slowly faded from the inter- pretive horizon during the early modern period. At the same time as a host of changes were being rung in hermeneutics, pseudonymity of some sort gradu- ally became an immovable fact of Ecclesiastes interpretation. And although the ‘vanity of the world’ reading proved more durable in the modern period, as a programmatic and exclusive reading, it too began to fade into obscurity during the early modern period. Since the ‘raw materials’ for both of these readings are found first in the book’s opening verses, I deal with them as special sections of the first chapter of commentary. Ecclesiastes, for whatever reason, did not engage the imaginations of the inhabitants of Qumran in the way that, say, the prophetic literature did (for what little is to be found in the Dead Sea Scrolls, see Martínez and Tigchelaar 1997: 289–90, and Christianson 1998a: 151 n. 77). After Qumran, the earliest interpretive traditions are likely preserved in the Mishnah, midrashim and even talmudim (more on talmudic readings in particular can be found through- out the commentary). Marc Hirshman (1958), in a study of remarkable insight, compares four early Christian commentaries to Midrash Qoheleth (itself a compilation of earlier sources, and which Hirshman dates c.600; 1958: 137), in the hopes of understanding the exegetical method and putative audiences of both traditions. Regarding the Midrash, Hirshman identifies ‘five facets of its aggadic exegesis’ (1958: 155–64): (1) Solomonic exegesis, which (creatively!) relates verses to the biographical material on Solomon in Kings and Chroni- cles; (2) identification, a close relative of allegory and typology, in which verses are related to ‘a specific individual, event or object drawn either from the Bible or from the Midrash’s contemporary surroundings’ (p. 158); (3) anecdotes, usually revolving around rabbinic sages and illustrating ‘moral or theological points’ (p. 160); (4) mashal, ‘generally translated “parable” ’, and defined by D. Stern as ‘allusive narratives told for an ulterior purpose’ (p. 161); (5) cata- loguing, especially prevalent in this midrash, and concerned to ‘collect and topically order diverse bits of information’ in the form of lists and catalogues (p. 162). Ecclesiastes only gradually took hold in the early Christian literature, and there is little sign of it, for example, in the ‘Apostolic Fathers’ writings of Igna- tius, Polycarp et al. Perhaps it took time to relate Qoheleth to Christianity, but in the course of the third century the first substantial writing becomes available (see below; although J. R. Wright points to the work of Melito of Sardis in the late second century, ‘of which little is known’; 2005: p. xxiv). When Christians broke ground on Ecclesiastes, the result calls to mind Ginsburg’s caustic summary of this developing discourse as ‘the monotony of patristic exposition’ (1861: 105; here said to highlight the ‘relief’ of the superior commentary of Olympiodorus, c.510). That assessment is fairly easily formed on the evidence of the relentless tendency to relegate Qoheleth’s reflections to the perceived truths of Christian liturgy and doctrine. One of the earliest examples will become typical, from the Commentary on the Beginning of Ecclesiastes of Dionysius of Alexandria (c.200–c.265), a student of Origen. On Qoheleth’s endorsement of eating and drinking in 2:24–5, he comments, And surely mere material meats and drinks are not the soul’s good. For the fl esh, when luxuriously nurtured, wars against the soul, and rises in revolt against the spirit. And how should not intemperate eatings and drinkings also be contrary to God? He speaks, therefore, of things mystical. For no one shall partake of the spiritual table, but one who is called by Him, and has listened to the wisdom which says, ‘Take and eat.’ (In Coxe 1978: 114; cf. the same reading in Augustine, City of God 17.20; the rabbis did not like the sentiment either and suggested that all ‘the references to eating and drinking in this Book signify Torah and good deeds’; Midrash Qoheleth 2.24.1) However, diversity is not too difficult to find, and Ginsburg’s assessment does not do justice to some. In the third and fourth centuries we might begin to recognize in the work of Origen, Didymus the Blind, Gregory Thaumatur- gos, Gregory of Nyssa, Theodore of Mopsuestia and Jerome the beginnings of more lengthy, influential and insightful readings. While Origen’s commentary on Ecclesiastes is no longer extant, the other five of these offer the most substantial examples of early Christian interpretation of Ecclesiastes. Gregory Thaumaturgos’s Paraphrase (c.245) is the ‘earliest systematic Christian treatment of Ecclesiastes which has come down to us’ (Jarick in Gregory Thaumaturgos 1990: 3). As a student of Origen, in whose footsteps Gregory Thaumaturgos envisioned his own work, his paraphrase offers some insight into Origen’s lost commentary on Ecclesiastes. The paraphrase may have been borne of a need to address the perceived strangeness and inadequacy of the Septuagint, the only access to Ecclesiastes for Greek readers (Jarick in Gregory Thaumaturgos 1990: 5). As such, Gregory’s Paraphrase is written for the benefi t of the Church, with a vision of its ‘unison with the general Christian tradition’ (Gregory Thaumaturgos 1990: 315). Gregory refreshingly offers his own dis- tinct interpretive voice, not always adapting, for example, the allegorical method that Origen’s influence would imply. Didymus the Blind (c.313–98) is another interpreter on whom Origen exercised particular influence. Like that of Thaumaturgos, his commentary is complete (bar the last verses of ch. 12) and systematic, particularly regarding methodology (see Diego Sánchez 1990; note his seemingly prescient views on Ecclesiastes’ authorship, below, p. 95). Pre-Modern Reading 25 26 Introduction Two other nuanced and perceptive patristic voices can be heard in this period. Gregory of Nyssa’s eight homilies on Eccl. 1–3:13 (c.380) were also composed for the benefit of the church. Here Ecclesiastes looks ‘exclusively to the conduct of the Church’, for it ‘gives instruction in those things by which one would achieve the life of virtue’ (hom. 1, in Gregory of Nyssa 1993: 34). Consistently Gregory is at pains to relate the words of the Ecclesiast to a well ordered Christian life. Gregory sometimes uses the text of Ecclesiastes as a springboard for other subjects, notably in his extraordinary attack on slavery (the opening paragraphs of hom. 4; see below, pp. 158–9). Both Gregories pursue their task with originality and flair, and witness to the interpretive demands made by Ecclesiastes on the earliest readers (note Gregory of Nyssa’s comment on the stamina required to wrestle with Qoheleth, in Testimonia, p. 1). Around the same time, we might note the unusually literal approach of Theodore of Mopsuestia (c.350–428), distinctly at odds with the already dom- inant allegorists. In his study of Theodore’s Ecclesiastes commentary, John Jarick traces his condemnation by the Second Council of Constantinople in the sixth century (partly for denying the canonical status of some biblical books, including Ecclesiastes, an accusation Jarick argues was misguided) and the discovery of a Syriac version of his commentary in Damascus in the twen- tieth century (Jarick 1995: 306–7; Theodore’s reading of 12:1–7 will be dis- cussed below in the commentary section). More influential than these commentators combined, however, is Jerome, whose commentary on Ecclesiastes (388/9) has received a good deal of critical attention (most recently and comprehensively in Hirshman 1996 and Kraus 1999–2000). It was designed, he tells us in his Preface, with a purpose: I remember just five years ago when I was still at Rome and studying virtuous Blesilla’s book of Ecclesiastes that I taught her to think lightly of her generation and to esteem futile everything that she saw in the world. I remember too being asked by her to examine individually all the difficult passages in a short treatise so that she might be able to understand what she was reading without me always being present. Accordingly, since she was taken from us by her sudden death while I was still doing the preparation for my work . . . I then ceased from my work, silenced by the terrible grief of such a misfortune. Now though, situated in Bethlehem, clearly a more holy city, I can fulfil that promise to the memory of Blesilla and to you [i.e. his Roman disciples, a widow named Paula and her daughter Eustochium], and remind you briefly that I have used no authority in this work, but have rather translated directly from the Hebrew itself and have adapted it to the traditional language of the Septuagint in those passages which do not differ greatly from the Hebrew. Occasionally I have taken account of the Greek versions, those of Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotion so that I do not deter the reader’s enthusiasm with too much novelty. I have also not pursued those streams of conjecture, which lack a factual basis, for I do not believe this to be sensible. (Jerome 2000: ad loc.2) Jerome describes here the thorough and unusually consultative approach that he employs throughout the commentary. J. N. D. Kelly admires Jerome’s skill in edification and the brilliance of his style: On every page we come across . . . breath-taking transformations of the plain meaning of the Preacher’s musings, all set out in colourful and rhythmic prose . . . For the modern student, intent on discovering what Ecclesiastes is really about, Jerome’s brilliant exegetical essay is worse than useless. But judged by the standards of his age, when Christian men took it for granted that the true sense of the Old Testament was the spiritual one lurking beneath the surface which pointed forward to Christ and his Church, it was a tour de force of edifica- tion and illumination. (1975: 151–2; cf. 144–52 where other aspects of the com- mentary are discussed; cf. Ginsburg, who is even less charitable [1861: 101–3]) Kelly presumes a fairly limited horizon of expectation in his ‘modern student’ (can this really be ‘worse’ than ‘useless’?). Jerome offers us in his comments, as Kelly admits, access to contemporary rabbinic exegesis. It is also fascinating to encounter Jerome’s often detailed comments on the Hebrew and compari- son to the Greek versions. Angelo Penna is impressed enough to call the com- mentary a ‘milestone’ for its use of Hebrew and rabbinic tradition, literal exegesis and sympathetic citation of classical authors such as Cicero, Horace and Virgil (1950: 41). Also noteworthy is Jerome’s frequent procedure of dealing first with the literal interpretation of a verse and only then moving on to the spiritual. And in his thoroughness he is, by any contemporary standard, unusually respectful of the reader. So, for example, of the catalogue of times in ch. 3, Jerome comments, ‘The Hebrews understand all that he has written about the contradiction of times . . . as concerning Israel. Because it is not necessary to go through each verse in turn here, commenting on how they are to be interpreted and what they mean, I will list them briefly, leaving a more detailed study to the reader’s discretion’ (2000: ad loc.). There is no doubting the outstanding and lasting influence of Jerome’s commentary, which is well captured by Murphy, who finds in it ‘fairly liberal interpretation . . . erudite philology, command of the ancient Greek versions, lessons from his Jewish tutor, Bar Aqiba, etc.’ (1992: p. li; Hirshman and Kraus share Murphy’s enthusiasm). His translation of Ecclesiastes for the Vulgate (which reportedly, along with Proverbs and Song of Songs, took all of three 2 Ad loc. is used throughout this commentary since the translation, by Robin MacGregor Lane (who has kindly permitted me to use it), is unpublished. Pre-Modern Reading 27 28 Introduction days to complete!) itself wielded its influence through, among other things, its reading of hebel as ‘vanitas’. Indeed, Jerome’s Preface (above), ‘since it became one of the standard prefaces to the book in medieval Bibles, was probably the most widely read exegetical help on Ecclesiastes in the middle ages’ (Eliason 1989: 41 n. 5). Examples from his commentary can be found extensively throughout this commentary, and Jerome’s hugely influential monastic approach, to read Ecclesiastes as a refutation of the vanity of worldly things, will be taken up in detail in chapter 1 (see pp. 98–141). A particularly influential mode of reading Ecclesiastes is first fully developed by Pope Gregory the Great in book 4 of his Dialogues (c.593). Here Gregory engages in a discussion with his deacon, Peter, on the question of the immor- tality of the soul. Gregory describes what is really behind the seeming contra- dictions of the book called Ecclesiastes: [W]hen there are many people holding opinions of various kinds, they are brought into harmony by the reasoning of the speaker. This book, then, is called ‘the preacher’ because in it Solomon makes the feelings of the disorganized people his own in order to search into and give expression to the thoughts that come to their untutored minds . . . For the sentiments he expresses in his search are as varied as the individuals he impersonates . . . Therefore we find that some statements of this book are introduced as inquiries, while others are meant to give satisfaction by their logic . . . It is clear . . . that one statement is introduced through his impersonation of the weak, while the other is added from the dictates of reason. (In Gregory the Great 1959: 193) Such an approach allows Gregory to ‘solve’ troublesome passages. So, for example, Solomon ‘writes, “Rejoice, O young man, while you are young.” While a little later he adds, “The dawn of youth is fleeting” [11:9–10]. In criticizing what he has just recommended, he indicates clearly that the former pronouncement proceeded from carnal desires, while the latter was based on a true judgment’ (1959: 194; cf. the ‘ironizing’ reading of this passage by Bonaventure, below, p. 221). Gregory works similar magic with other trouble- some texts, such as 3:18–20 (the most developed example – see p. 178), 5:183 and 12:13. Although this is not the first reading strategy to cope with Ecclesiastes’ more unorthodox passages by proposing a fragmented discourse (Gregory Thauma- turgos anticipates it in his notion of the advice of the wicked being corrected by Solomon), it is one that influenced a host of commentators who followed. As Eliason comments, 3 All references to ch. 5 will follow the versification of English translations, which is one verse ahead of the MT (in which the English 5:1 is 4:17). Gregory treats only a minuscule portion of the text of Ecclesiastes, but because he chooses a few of the most provocative cruces in the book and offers a power- ful and attractive method for interpreting them, the influence of his work is out of proportion to its brevity. Alcuin [730–804] . . . , the glossa ordinaria [c.1100] (Eccl. 1.1), and Hugh of St. Cher [c.1230–5] . . . incorporate this section of Gregory’s work into their commentaries in something close to its entirety. Throughout the Middle Ages, readers of Ecclesiastes label some opinions expressed there as deliberate falsehoods and choose to endorse the more ortho- dox opinions which follow such passages. (1989: 70) The lasting influence of Gregory’s reading can be discerned in much more recent work, notably by Anthony Perry (1993b). At the end of the exchange in the Dialogues, Peter humbly accepts Gregory’s views, exposing a more subtle strategy: ‘I am happy that I was ignorant on this point and proposed the ques- tion, for it provided an excellent opportunity for me to gain a thorough understanding. And now I beg you to bear patiently with me if I, too, like Ecclesiastes, impersonate the weak and continue the inquiry in their name in order to help them more directly’ (1959: 196). In other words, here Gregory has used the dialogical approach to legitimate the same procedure in his Dia- logues, in which others may represent ‘the minds of the infirm’ and Gregory the truly wise. The Talmud’s use of Ecclesiastes (like its use of the rest of the Hebrew Bible) usually focuses on practical application, often in support of the most banal observation. For example, of Eccl. 5:5, the Talmud at several points suggests that paying what one vows is to be preferred to vowing and not paying (and also to not vowing at all: b. Nedarim 9a; b. Menahoth 81a; b. Chullin 2a; cf. b. Ketuboth 72a; b. Shabbath 32b), which supports a pattern of authoritative praxis that tells us little about either the text or the community who read this way. Other readings are more informative in this regard. Qoheleth’s activity as described in the epilogue is taken by the Talmud as both preservative and restrictive, and classical rabbinic commentary on the passage is rich and nuanced. Another area in which the Talmud does not disappoint is in its own personal interpretive voice, the imitable charm with which it woos its readers. Partly this is accomplished through its non-specificity, in that by not historiciz- ing its illustrative exegesis it creates a space in which we can stand alongside the rabbis. Of course, the same qualities apply to the midrashim. For Qoheleth the patient of spirit are better than the proud in spirit (7:8b), which Midrash Qoheleth illustrates with a delightful story: A Persian came to Rab and said to him, ‘Teach me the Torah.’ He [consented, and, pointing to the first letter of the alphabet] . . . , told him, ‘Say aleph.’ The man remarked, ‘Who says that this is aleph? There may be others who say that Pre-Modern Reading 29 30 Introduction it is not!’ ‘Say beth,’ to which he remarked, ‘Who says that this is beth?’ Rab rebuked him and drove him out in anger. He went to Samuel and said to him, ‘Teach me the Torah.’ He told him, ‘Say aleph.’ The man remarked, ‘Who says that this is aleph?’ ‘Say beth,’ to which he remarked, ‘Who said this is beth?’ The teacher took hold of his ear and the man exclaimed, ‘My ear! my ear!’ Samuel asked him, ‘Who said that this is your ear?’ He answered, ‘Everybody knows that this is my ear,’ and the teacher retorted, ‘In the same way everybody knows that this is aleph and that is beth.’ Immediately the Persian was silenced and accepted the instruction. Hence . . . better is the forbearance which Samuel displayed with the Persian than the impatience which Rab showed towards him, for otherwise the Persian might have returned to his heathenism. (7.8.1) The reading shows not just a response to Qoheleth’s proverb, but an immer- sion in its language and logic, helping readers to internalize Qoheleth’s words in their entirety. As in various midrashism and talmudim, Targum Qoheleth (c.600) repre- sents a relegation of Qoheleth’s specific observations to tradition (namely, to the biographical life of Solomon) and to the study of Torah. As such, as Flesher argues (1990), this targum programmatically redefined wisdom (Qoheleth’s, but also, in a representative sense, rabbinic wisdom). Indeed, the targumists were deeply uncomfortable with Qoheleth’s many ambiguities: . . . the targum has transformed Qohelet’s natural wisdom into learning based on torah . . . The document that should be the prime container of wisdom thought has been hollowed out and replaced by a post-talmudic rabbin- ism . . . The Qohelet Targum, which as a translation replaced the Hebrew Qohelet for the vast majority of Jews who did not know Hebrew, is no longer the cogent and relentless perpetuator of ideas dangerous to the rabbinic perspective, but the purveyor of a compelling statement of the rabbinic world view. (Flesher 1990) While some examples of this mode are found in the commentary (particularly on chs 1 and 12), Targum Qoheleth represents one of the least adventurous readings of Ecclesiastes and, like so many pre-modern readings, a resistance to release the full force of his sceptical wisdom. Jewish tradition has had a distinct way of articulating Ecclesiastes with Jewish life. The unusual grouping of Ecclesiastes with the other Megillot scrolls (Song of Songs, Ruth, Lamentations and Esther) has given it a long history of liturgical significance. Like the other scrolls, Ecclesiastes is read at a festival, in this case of Sukkot (Tabernacles). The practice seems to have been well in place by at least the eleventh century (Fox 2004: p. xv) and probably earlier. The Megillot grouping is unusual in that while the other books have a relatively clear relationship to the festival at which they are read (e.g. Ruth at Shavuot [Harvest], Lamentations commemorating the destruction of the Temple on the ninth of Ab), the case of Ecclesiastes lacks such clarity. While the Talmud hints at some rationale for the choice (cf. e.g. b. Chagigah 17a, which relates Eccl. 3:1 to the appropriate keeping of the season, the eighth day of Taber- nacles), the other four festivals had a logical textual partner, and Qoheleth was left, as it were, standing at the ball until Sukkot reluctantly agreed to dance (so Knobel, who does not quite put it in these terms; 1991: 4–5). It may well be that Ecclesiastes reflects the transient, fragile and joyful moods of Sukkot, which remembers the time in the wilderness of rootless wandering, unstable habitation (in ‘booths’, sukkôt; cf. Lev. 23:33–7) and the hope of a promised land (see the discussions in Fox 2004: p. xv, and Rosenberg 1992: pp. ix–xi; cf. Jarick [1997], who suggests a thematic correspondence of the liturgy with the season of autumn at which it is read). Ginsburg surmises that ‘numerous commentaries, which are now lost, have been written on this book in the tenth, eleventh and twelfth centuries’ (1861: 56). A particularly intriguing extant example comes from the Karaite move- ment (for Hans Küng, a ‘Jewish reformation’; 1992: 170–4): the commentary of Yephet ben ‘Ali (written c.990). Yephet, the first Jew to write commentaries on the entire Bible, demonstrates a penchant for grammatical observations and an awareness of alternative interpretations (Frank 2000: 122). Richard Bland, in his translation and study of Yephet’s commentary (‘Ali 1969), argues that the key to understanding Yephet’s approach to Ecclesiastes is his interpretation of 1:3, which is that only a person’s ‘performance of the precepts of God and his good works will benefit him in his hereafter. From this Yephet concludes that one should enjoy the blessings that God has bestowed upon him in this life’ (1969: pp. v–vi). In this, suggests Bland, Yephet was ‘in full accord with Saadia [Gaon, the leading opponent of the Karaites]’ (p. vi). Bland continues in his assessment of the commentary proper: His commentary on Ecclesiastes . . . does leave much to be desired from the standpoint of modern critical methods, but as a popular commentary, one written to make the Book of Ecclesiastes an effective influence in the lives of his less literate co-religionists, it is outstanding. In this work which combines the best in the thinking of Yephet’s predecessors with his own views, there is a unity and coherence which a mere eclectic could not hope to attain. (‘Ali 1969: p. vii) While very traditional in approach, the commentary is peppered with some remarkable and prescient insights. So, for example, on 1:12, Yephet observes that Qoheleth ‘began with I Qohelet because he intends to relate from his own experience everything to which he refers in what follows . . . It was likely that Pre-Modern Reading 31 32 Introduction it was he who first called himself Qohelet, the editor [nwdm, a term he uses several times] following his example’ (‘Ali 1969: 166–7; cf. Jerome, who comes close to this: ‘here he returns to the subject of himself, and reveals who he was, and how he knew and experienced all things’; 2000: ad loc.). These are views that sit at ease among modern studies. It is worth noting, too, that Yephet’s insight is made all the more remarkable by the fact that, according to Flesher (1990), classical rabbinic exegesis was ill at ease with Qoheleth’s emphasis on experiential epistemology. The main themes of Qoheleth interpretation, while modified, changed remarkably little throughout the Middle Ages. The book, however, seemed to hold a powerful sway over many. Eliason captures the appeal well: The modern reader is likely to be taken with the skeptical flavor of the book, and to feel a certain intellectual kinship with the un-biblical character of its thought. But the medieval reader could also feel an intellectual kinship with the book. No less than the modern reader he could find in the words of the Preacher a doctrine which fit his presuppositions, a project which was made easier by the fact that he read a text which had been translated by scholars who shared his neo- platonized understanding of the Old and New Testaments. (1989: 39) Such appeal is evidenced by the immense popularity of Ecclesiastes among the Christian exegetes of the period, as has been so forcefully brought to light by the seminal work of Beryl Smalley. What Smalley finds to define thirteenth- century works on Ecclesiastes is that the ‘ethical content, the observation on politics and on natural science to be found in the sapiential books do not stir the commentator’s curiosity; he ignores the invitation to speculate’ (1949: 323). At the same time, many writers were bringing the sapiential books to the fore in doctrinal dispute. ‘In the twelfth century the Pauline Epistles had been the chief focus for doctrinal discussion. The sapiential books did not displace them; but they became second in the scale of importance, in so far as doctrine was attached to lectures on Scripture’ (1949: 325; cf. her comments on William of Tournai and Bonaventure, 1950: 75).4 Among the key medieval commentators whom Smalley identifies, Hugh of St Victor, who was at the Abbey of St Victor in Paris c.1118 until his death in 1141, worked against the contemporary grain, privileging the literal sense of Scripture. His nineteen homilies on Eccl. 1:1–4:8 ‘originated in collations or conferences, preached to the brothers’ (Smalley 1952: 98; cf. Holm-Nielsen 1976: 86–8). In the prologue to his homilies, Hugh makes his approach clear: 4 More discussion of medieval approaches to Ecclesiastes is to be found in the Vanitas Vanitatum section of ch. 1 (pp. 102–106). And so, in this work, I do not think that one should toil much after tropologies or mystical allegorical senses through the whole course of the argument, espe- cially as the author himself aims less at improving, or at relating mysteries, than at moving the human heart to scorn worldly things by obviously true reasons and plain persuasion. I do not deny that many mysteries are included in the argument, especially in the latter part. As he proceeds, the author always, with increase of contemplation, rises above the visible ever more and more. But it is one thing to consider the writer’s intention and his argument as a whole, another to think that certain of his obiter dicta [incidental speech], which have a mystical sense and must be understood spiritually, should not be passed over. (In Smalley 1952: 100) A good example of his impressive attention to the style of Ecclesiastes is his explanation of the rhetorical change that occurs at the start of ch. 3, the cata- logue of times: ‘The words of a man are diverse, because the heart of a man is not one . . . Therefore Solomon, in disputing about vanity, changes the ideas in his speech frequently, so that he might show his attitude to be changed through love of vanity’ (in Eliason 1989: 73 n. 64). According to Smalley, ‘the Homilies became a classic. Teachers quoted and borrowed from them exten- sively’ (1949: 320; cf. Lubac 1960: 434–5). Indeed, their impact was felt far and wide, beyond monastic settings, as is evident in their influence on the narra- tive poem of Guillame de Machaut, Jugement dou roy de Navarre (1349; see Ehrhart 1980). Around the same time as Hugh, several key Jewish exegetes were fl ourishing in France and Spain. Perhaps most notable among these in the case of Qoheleth is the celebrated French exegete and Talmud scholar Rashbam (c.1080–c.1160), grandson of Rashi. Rashbam’s commentary is a lucid and coherent treatment that is rightly credited for being the first to identify the presence of an edited frame in Ecclesiastes (see the discussion below, p. 249). Sara Japhet and Robert Salters draw attention to the commentary’s ‘well-structured, premeditated composition, the writing of which is guided by a literary insight into the book of Qoheleth’ (in Rashbam 1985: 42). Like Hugh, Rashbam distinguished himself from the interpretive tradition to which he belonged. The principle applied with ‘absolute consistency’ throughout his commentary is to arrive at a literal meaning. ‘A word, a phrase, a verse – when found in a given context – can have one and only one interpretation. Thus the practice which is so common in Jewish exegetical tradition, including medieval commentators, of suggesting several possibilities for interpreting a given text, is completely absent from Rashbam’s works’ (Japhet and Salters, in Rashbam 1985: 61–2). Another outstanding Jewish work of this period was composed by Samuel ibn Tibbon, sometime between 1198/9 and 1221. James Robinson describes its scope and immense infl uence: Pre-Modern Reading 33