Category: Orality - Wittenberg Door Campus Ministry

Where Did Jude Come From?

5/14/2021

5/14/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

Eybers, I.H. "Aspects of the Background of the Letter of Jude." Neotestamentica 9:1 (1975), 113-123.

Eybers questions the background of Jude, as he notes the immediate move into polemics. It is worthy asking who the recipients of the letter were and what could have provoked this counsel (Eybers 1975, 113).

The heresy being resisted "is decidedly practical, without much metaphysical speculation" (Eybers 1975, 114). Eybers reaches this conclusion based on the descriptions of the heretics in verses 4, 16, 18, and 19.

Eybers notes that Jude's reference to a book of Enoch is significant. Enoch 1:9 is quoted and the text is considered authoritative, though non-canonical. It was apparently well knwon to the audience, which indicates an association with Jewish apocalyptic groups (Eybers 1975, 115).

Eybers also notes the important role of angels in Jude (Eybers 1975, 116). Their place is prominent in Jewish apocalptic literature. Here the angels are involved in disputes betwen worldly and spiritual issues. The dualism of the heretics can be applied to the angelic conflicts as well (Eybers 1975, 117).

Though some are quick to conclude that Jude is speaking against Gnosticism, Eybers notes that it was only one of many human systems which would separate religion and morality (Eybers 1975, 118). People frequently take the forms of a religion to substitute for moral and ethical requirements and vice versa. Gnosticism as found in the second century is not clearly identified in Jude (Eybers 1975, 119).

Eybers concludes that there is nothing inherent in Jude that requires us to look outside of a first century A.D. Jewish or Christian culture. There is no need to assign it a later date based on its background (Eybers 1975, 119).

Why Are Those Words "Missing"?

5/7/2021

5/7/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

Kloppenborg, John S. "Didache 16:6-8 and Special Matthaean Tradition." Zeitschrift Für Die Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft Und Die Kunde Der Älteren Kirche 70(1979), 54-67.

Comparisons of Didache 16 with Mark 13 and Matthew 24 have abounded in the 20th century. Kloppenborg asks whether there is actual dependence. After providing a parallel text of Didache 16:6-8, Matthew 24:29-31, and Mark 13:24-27 (Kloppenborg 1979, 55-56), he refines the question by considering whether the passage in the Didache shows use of "pre-Markan material and the possibility of dependence upon Mt. 24:30-31" (Kloppenborg 1979, 57).

To consider the material Kloppenborg examines redaction of the relevant Synoptic passages, then compares them to the passages in the Didache (Kloppenborg 1979, 57). He begins by considering Matthew 25:31. Though there are doubtless influences and parallel ideas Kloppenborg does consider the verse authentic to Mathew (Kloppenborg 1979, 58). When compared with Didache 16:7, Kloppenborg notes the lanuage is more similar to a reference to the Septuagint than to the text of Matthew (Kloppenborg 1979, 59). This strongly suggests that the text itself is not dependent on Matthew.

Didache 16:8, Matthew 24:30b, and Mark 13:26, which refer to Daniel 7:13 is another case of interest. Kloppenborg argues that "the Didache represents tradition independent of both the Synoptic gospels and of the Vorlage of Mk. 13" (Kloppenborg 1979, 59). The change in wording between Daniel and the Synoptics also appears in rabbinic sources. This suggests it is not a point of redaction in Mark (Kloppenborg 1979, 60). Kloppenborg thus concludes that the different wording in the Didache does not need to be dependent on Matthew or Mark. The agreemend of Matthew 24:30 and Didache 16:8 over against the Septuagint and the other Synoptics does not demonstrate a derivation (Kloppenborg 1979, 62). Kloppenborg notes that the following phrase, μετά δυνάμεως καὶ δόξης πολλῆς is not taken into the Didache (Kloppenborg 1979, 63).

Kloppenborg continues by looking at Didache 16:6, which is parallelled only by Matthew 24:30a, 31. There is certainly a kinship in the ideas and some of the wording (Kloppenborg 1979, 64). Kloppenborg and others have noted a similarity to 1 Thessalonians 4:16, which may be more similar to Didache 16:6 than to Matthew 24:30a, 31. However, he considers the similarity to be best explained by their use of common apocalyptic themes (Kloppenborg 1979, 65). Dependence is not conclusively demonstrated, and again there are ideas and wordss omitted in the Didache which one would expect to be present if it were dependent on Matthew.

Kloppenborg's conclusion is that while he cannot demonstrate a dependence between the Didache and Matthew, there are similarities between the Didache and the material which seems unique to Matthew. This suggests that the Didachist and Matthew may well have had access to a common source which the other Synoptics did not know (Kloppenborg 1979, 66).

The Conversion of an Oral Poet

2/19/2021

Warning: Politically Incorrect Material to Follow.

2/19/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

Saenger, Michael. "'Ah ain't heard whut de tex' wuz': The (Il)legitimate Textuality of Old English and Black English." Oral Tradition 14:2 (1999), 304-320.

Saenger considers whether there are significant similarities, particularly in the transcription and legitimization of authors, between Anglo-Saxon monastic compositions and those from "the rurall Black South" (Saenger 1999, 304). The works he compares are written works which present the oral work of Christian preachers.

Bede's story of Caedmon serves as the Anglo-Saxon material .Caedmon was a common English shepherd who eventually had a call to sing songs of devotion to God. He subsequently spent his life as a monk, singing songs to God (Saenger 1999, 305). The hymn of Caedmon is presented by Bede in Latin, though there is a later gloss which translates it back into Old English (Saenger 1999, 306). Over time, Bede's words were also translated into Old English. Saenger takes this to indicate that Old English was gaining legitimacy as a language.

From the American South, Zora Neale Hurston's novel, Jonah's Gourd Vine describes the "illegitimate son of a white plantation owner" (Saenger 1999, 306). The man, after a series of troubles, finds he has a calling as a preacher. The novel transcribs an actual sermon from a church service (Saenger 1999, 307).

Saenger observes that the Black Christianity of the South in this period was syncretistic in nature, with many elements of natural religion present in Christian worship. Saenger sees this as a colonizing effect used by Christian leaders (Saenger 1999, 308). The elements of pagan poetry in the preaching of Hurston's preacher, John, hearken back to primitive roots.

Saenger describes both oral poets as associating with beasts of one kind or another "in their pre-enlightened state" (Saenger 1999, 309). The people they interact with are animalistic and they themselves bear the same tendencies.

The poet Caedmon takes on a civilized nature, while the preacher John remains wild by nature (Saenger 1999, 310). They are both, however, seen largely as domesticated animals. Yet they are depicted as having an abundant flow of poetry coming from the m in ways hardly imaginable in the common person (Saenger 1999, 311).

It is valid to ask whether the oral material recorded is a transcription or some sort of translation (Saenger 1999, 313). Caedomon is certainly a matter of translation, since he is said to sing in Anglo-Saxon but the song is presented in Latin. John's sermon is a transcription of a sermon by C.C. Lovelace (Saenger 1999, 313). The issue of legitimacy is also important to Saenger. Caedmon's move serves to legitimize himself, while John's move delegitimizes him. The poems serve to illustrate this process. Caedmon's does so in an apolitical manner, but John's is very politicized (Saenger 1999, 314). Both works show considerable intelligence and cretativey, as well as an attempt at distance form pagan sources. Neither makes that leap enirely (Saenger 1999, 317).

Saenger concludes that in both works there is an effort to legitimize its oral genre through liteary means. In neither is it entirely successful.

Writing Is Better?

2/12/2021

2/12/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

Neufeld, Christine. "Speakerly Women and Scribal Men." Oral Tradition 14:2 (1999), 420-429.

Neufeld observes a tradition, dating back to classical times, by which women are storytellers and allegedly inaccurate or irrelevant, while men engage in scribal, accurate, and relevant discourse (Neufeld 1999, 420). Because she sees this characterization as a way in which men have been described as having authority over women, she chooses to explore the concept in terms of sexuality and authority. As an example, she uses Dunbar's Tretis of the Tua Mariit Wemen and the Wedo, which appears in literary form in the early 16th century (Neufeld 1999, 421). In this work, the married women and the widow, who engage in oral poetry complaining about married life, the literary poet overhearing them reflects that it would be a terrible thing to marry someone who would speak in such a way. The women's speech is very derogatory toward men. What is significant to Neufeld is that Dunbar considers this as a normal type of behavior (Neufeld 1999, 423). Of additional interest to Neufeld is that the widow has a book, which she apparently could have read if she wished, but she uses it only as an accessory. She has rejected literary pursuits because of her desire to communicate within an oral tradition (Neufeld 1999, 423).

The overall concept of the literary poet as an evesdropper is of additional interest. He knows more about the women than they know about him. He is able to describe them, while they don't know he is present at all. This could also suggest that to Dunbar the literary sensibilities are superior to oral traditions, as they can know what those steeped in orality will never know (Neufeld 1999, 424).

Neufeld suggests it is possible that the genre of the oral poetry fits into that of a medieval "flyting", as described by C.S. Lewis. Here there is an oral poetry contest and the participants and audience decide which voice has been able to satirize the situation at hand most effectively (Neufeld 1999, 425). The work, then, may stand as an example of a literary attempt to capture an oral event and to make commentary on it.

Can You Write Songs Expressing Difficult Theology in a Language You Barely Know?

2/5/2021

2/5/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

MacCoull, Leslie. "Oral-Formulaic Approaches to Coptic Hymnography." Oral Tradition 14:2 (1999), 354-400.

MacCoull introduces the reader to the blend of exegetical, narrative, and folk elements found in Coptic hymnody (MacCoull 1999, 355). The Coptic language, written with Greek characters, came about around the third century CE. It was widely used by the sixth century and continued to be common until the later 10th century, when it began to be replaced by the Arabic language. From that time it remained in use in some liturgies for several hundred years.

Coptic hymnography has been relatively unstudied, despite there being a strong tradition of music using the language (MacCoull 1999, 356). MacCoull articulates a wide variety of scholarly questions which could and should be asked about this literature. She then discusses the types of hymnody which she can distinguish. First is a Psalmody, which is found "arranged according to the days of the week and including moveable feast seasons" (MacCoull 1999, 356-357). Another group consists of hymns to Mary, the Theotokia. Third is a collection of antiphons as the propers for the different saints' days. While there are dating clues, they are only occasional. The most common dating clues appear in the songs for martyrs, as it is clear the song would not have been composed prior to the death of the martyr. A few other linguistic clues can be found, but very few.

The Antiphonarium exists as a complete work only in some late Ottoman-era manuscripts. It progresses from the first month (September) through the twelfth (August) and places five intercalary days at the end. Though MacCoull identifies some earlier, partial manuscripts, there are few of these. The hymns in the fragmens are arranged in differnt ways, indicating to MacCoull that the manuscripts would be for monastic use, with morning and evening hours intended for meditation and prayer (MacCoull 1999, 359). The meter is the same for all the antiphons. All are strophic. Nearly all have a standard final strophe. The manuscripts contain some minimal pointing, though MacCoull points out that the later manuscripts, after the Coptic language was becoming less familiar, have more errors in the pointing (MacCoull 1999, 360).

The Coptic hymnography is a written tradition, yet MacCoull considers them to show significant oral-formulaic traits in composition. Specifically, she sees "recurrence of stock openings nad sock opening strophes, often subject to variation according to the meter" (MacCoull 1999, 361). Much of the earlier studies of this hymnography may have neglected the compositional methods, as they were conducted by musicologists, who may have taken a different type of interest in the composition. The similarity of openings became more apparent in 1995 when an edition of the work contained an index of first lines, causing the patterns to emerge more clearly (MacCoull 1999, 362). MacCoull describes and illustrates several of these similar openings. Their essential structure is the same, though nonstructural elements may change. MacCoull observes that collation of these elements and variations is an enormous task, just in its inception (MacCoull 1999, 366).

MacCoull observes also that the hymnody represents different types of saints: "martyrs, bishops, patriarchs, monks and hermits, holy women (ascetics or mothers), aposltes, as well as Old Testament figures, celestial archangels, and so on" (MacCoull 1999, 367). Her analysis shows that the martyr hymns are follow formulaic patterns to the greatest degree. She gives a number of examples of different compositions. Her conclusion is that many of these works were composed by oral poets who used elements which could be easily modified and connected to one another (MacCoull 1999, 371).

The Coptic hymnography is rich in doctrinal statements. MacCoull evaluates the way some of this doctrinal content is played out in the works (MacCoull 1999, 372ff). In an example she gives, not only is the concept of baptism and its relation to water and blood made clear (as observed by MacCoull), but there is also a trinitarian statement of consubstantiality which is not a necessary part of the hymn's narrative but which makes a strong defense of a critical element of Christian theology.

MacCoull raises the question of the identity of the composers and audiences of the Coptic hymnography, particularly after about 1100 CE when the language was really not well known (MacCoull 1999, 375). The tradition had apparently begun by the sixth century, when Coptic was still in active use (MacCoull 1999, 376). In the eighth through the start of the eleventh century there was substantial diglossia in the region, with Arabic being spoken in the marketplace but with Christians using Coptic at home. The use of Coptic eventually declined and died in domestic use. The language was effectively dead by the thirteenth century. At this time MacCoull observes there were tools used to train liturgists how to perform the liturgy, learning the forms as a foreign language (MacCoull 1999, 377). She does recognize that it would be possible for someone, having learned these liturgical patterns, to compose songs using the formulas and plugging in different vocabulary words that would fit a different occasion.

Oral Compilation

1/29/2021

1/29/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

Jaffee, Martin S. "Oral Tradition in the Writings of Rabbinic Oral Torah: On Theorizing Rabbinic Orality." Oral Tradition 14:1 (1999), 3-32.

Jaffee introduces the idea of an Oral Torah as that which God preserved through oral tradition, though it was written down in one form or another by about the tenth or eleventh centuries (Jaffee 1999, 3). The teachings were considered to be authoritative and to preserve teaching that had stood for millennia. Jaffee seeks to analyze the antecedent traditions, particularly from the third through seventh centuries, andattempting to understand the oral foundations of the actual literature (Jaffee 1999, 4). He considers this article to be introductory in nature, but hopefully useful in setting the stage for further discussion (Jaffee 1999, 5).

Rabbinic literature may be classified into three basic forms. Mishnah (repeated tradition) "consists primarily of brief legal rulings, narratives, and debates, normally ascribed to teachers who lived from the last century BCE through the early third century CE" (Jaffee 1999, 5). Such works are largely compolied into a literary work itself known as the Mishnah. Tosefta (supplement or amplification) is commentary on the Mishnah. Jaffee seems to consider the Tosefta as a subgroup of Mishnah. These works appear in writing beginning about the twelfth century (Jaffee 1999, 6). Midrash (interpretive tradition) attempts to tie different types of teaching to Scriptural passages. Many of these works appeared, especially from the third to seventh centuries (Jaffee 1999, 6). The third class of literature Jaffee finds is known as "Talmud" or "Gemara" (learning, analytical discourse) (Jaffee 1999, 7). These relatively complex materials were used to train students in a process of dialectic by which they could resolve questions. The two compilations of this genre are the Palestinian Talmud and the Babylonian Talmud, both appearing in the twelfth or thirteenth centuries in written form (Jaffee 1999, 8).

The consensus of medieval Rabbinic scholars was "that the writings known to them in manuscript stemmed from, and, but for vagaries of scribal error and other sorts of natural corruption, faithfully reproduced teachings that for centuries had been inscribed only in the memories of scholars and transmitted solely in the oral instruction imparted by masters to their disciples" (Jaffee 1999, 8). Interestingly, Jaffee asserts that "what made a text Oral torah was neither the medium of its comtemporary preservation nor the fact that mastery of the text involved the capacity to call its sources immediately to mind from the ark of memory" (Jaffee 1999, 9). The manuscripts occasionally pointed to sources dating back to the earliest period of Judaism, though the understanding of the material in the manuscripts was taken to be transmitted primarily in the present time through oral means (Jaffee 1999, 10). The consensus of Rabbinic teaching is that the Rabbis do not consult books to confirm traditions, but they may consult those who are experts at memorization. Since the mid nineteenth century, Jaffee observes, scholars have sought out information that may enable reconstruction of the oral culture of the earlier time periods. Jafee mentions numerous lines of investigation which show a strong influence of the late 19th century and 20th century politics of oppression and power (Jaffee 1999, 11).

Jafee considers rabbinic compilations on three different levels, "the 'lemmatic,' the 'intermediate,' and the 'documentary'" (Jaffee 1999, 12). In esäsence, one can focus on very small elements, intermediay elements, or entire documents. On the lemmatic level, scholars have looked at small units, not generally words or phrases, but passages of a few sentences. At issue is to what extend the lemmata represent the actual oral tradition and to what extend they are literary elements (Jaffee 1999, 13). Jaffee observes that the maximalist scholars expect they can find the actual oral material behind the writing, while the minimalist scholars think this to be largely impossible.

On the level of intermediate and documentary analysis, there is debate about "how intermediate units are related to their documentary settings" (Jaffee 1999, 15). Some, exemplified by Neusner, consider that the different Rabbinic documents with their different characteristics, must have been composed by anonymous teams which had sovereign literary command of the material and style (Jaffee 1999, 16). One significant difficulty in this scheme is that the view of historiography is based on something which is not known to have existed. The collective editorial or compositional effort has never been demonstrated by anything except speculative efforts in modern times. Jaffee illustrates this through a brief analysis of Neusner's interpretation of literary process in composition of the Mishnah (Jaffee 1999, 18). According to Jafee, Neusner ultimately describes the Mishnah as something that is orally composed but written in order to be redacted so as to finalize the composition. It is therefore both an oral and a literary work in its composition, but is considered an oral work. Jaffee considers Neusner to overstate his case for order in texts which show relatively little intentionality (Jaffee 1999, 20). In contrast to Neusner, Jaffee discusses the work of Schäfer, who finds no pure background text with evidence of extensive compilation (Jaffee 1999, 21). Rather, Schäfer considers the material to have been gathered using a relatively organic process, resulting in the texts which we find now.

Jaffee proposes a compromise position between the two poles. "The most apt literary analogy for most Rabbinic comilations, I submit, is the anthology, provided that we add one crucial proviso. Rabbinic anthologies must be distinguished from those composed in cultures that ascribe sovereign integrity to authored literary works or are engaged in the business of canonizing Scriptures" (Jaffee 1999, 22). The compilers felt free to make adjustments to the readings of the material they were compiling. These materials, in turn, had already been subject to their own transmission history, which could have similarly made adjustments to them. Within this compromise position, it is perfectly reasonable to assume that oral performance of materials would occur. These oral recitations would be very likely to maintain particular language and structure, but it would be acceptable to exercise at least some level of freedom in transmitting the materials (Jaffee 1999, 24). The written collection, then, may well have been assembled from oral sources, and itself leads back to oral usage. The governing principle involved becomes discourse rather than literary editorial philosophy (Jaffee 1999, 26). Jaffee considers this compromise to move in a positive direction, answering many of the questions raised by both sides of the issue.

Speaking and Writing Overlap

1/22/2021

1/22/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

Fraade, Steven D. "Literary Composition and Oral Performance in Early Midrashim." Oral Tradition 14:1 (1999), 33-51.

Fraade observes that Midrashic studies can be a fruitful area for analysis of the dynamic of orality and literary composition. He begins by discussing whether midrashic composition was primarily an oral/early/popular or literary/late/elite process (Fraade 1999, 33). He is clear that there are essentially two streams in Midrash, some more formal and some less formal. Most scholarship has considered that even the more formal materials could be ultimately traced back to live sermons, through an oral process of transmission. The textuality is thought to have arisen later (Fraade 1999, 34). However, recent scholars have suggested that the works are primarily literary in nature. The textual rhetorical features of the genre are easily mistaken for oral compositional features. Fraade notes that "the linearity of both of these assumptions has been called into question, almost simultaneously, by scholars of traditional cultures in general and by scholars of Rabbinic literature in particular (Fraade 1999, 35). The growing consensus is that there is an interaction between oral and textual processes.

The early midrashic collections, from the third century CE, describe both written and oral communication dating back to Mt. Sinai (Fraade 1999, 37). The concept then continues of some works being appropriate for oral recitation and some for recitation by reading. Fraade illustrates this with multiple quotations of Mishnaic commentaries on different Scripture texts. The written and oral materials were considered authoritative, though the oral materials were generally based on the concepts found in writing. "Thus, it is often explained that the Written Torah, by its very nature and from its very beginning, must have demanded an oral accompaniment to fill its gaps and clarify its meanings" (Fraade 1999, 41).

Fraade does ask an important question. We seem to have an assumption that the expansions of the written Torah "were primarily oral" (Fraade 1999, 42). The oral material developed and is considered appropriate for oral preservation and performance. Fraade concludes that the important nature of hearing God's words privileged orality in a special way. This led to a culture of hearing, rather than reading (Fraade 1999, 43). The paradigm of orality also bore a concept of the message being given orally by God to Moses and then passed on over the generations. The natural conclusion from that paradigm would be that the oral materials were not composed in writing and then memorized, but were composed and transmitted orally (Fraade 1999, 44).

Fraade notes that the very structure of dialectic within the Midrashim links the words of the written and oral sources, but does so in such a way as to keep the difference apparent (Fraade 1999, 45). The rhetorical features make it clear that there are differences between text and orality. Both sources are carefully prepared and maintained. This does suggest an interaction between the oral and the written.

Editing Within an Oral Tradition

1/15/2021

1/15/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

Elman, Yaakov. "Orality and the Redaction of the Babylonian Talmud." Oral Tradition 14:1 (1999), 52-99.

Elman attempts to show that the Talmuds were transmitted orally and that redactional materials were also orally composed. He sees this particularly in the case of the Babylonian Talmud, existing in a more highly oral culture than that of the Palestinian work (Elman 1999, 52).

Elman's argument begins with the concept that Middle Hebrew has linguistic date markers. Because the dating of the language can be identified relatively clearly, developments can also be dated, particularly during the third through sixth centuries (Elman 1999, 53). He sees the redactors, known as the Stammaim, as operating "within an almost exclusively oral environment" (Elman 1999, 53). This type of scholarship could be surprising to a highly literate culture. However, Elman notes that Talmudic scholars often have exhaustive knowledge of large amounts of text.

Building on the work of Birger Gerhardsson, Elman notes that there was a strong oral tradition even among those who would write comfortably during this period (Elman 1999, 54). Even though there was abundant access to written texts, including Scripture, Amoraic masters were in the habit of quoting from memory rather than referencing a text in writing. Elman does observe that this went against Rabbinic counsel, which required scholars to read written texts and to quote from memory any orally transmitted material (Elman 1999, 55). Within the Amoraic culture, Elman reports the arts of writing, ritual slaughter, and carrying on circumcision were required of all rabbis. The scholar, however, rarely needed to do any actual writing. "There are hardly any cases in which legal texts are described as existing in writing in Babylonia" (Elman 1999, 55). Documents were produced by scribes, not by legal scholars. Accurate oral transmission appears to be the norm within the Amoraic culture (Elman 1999, 56).

Elman notes a difference beginning in the eighth century, known as the Geonic period. At this time, he sees oral transmission considered not only the norm but also to have held a privileged position. Creating written copies was permitted, but only in special cases (Elman 1999, 57). Of special interest to Elman is the fact that much of the current form of the Babylonian Talmud was established after the Amoraic period, about 500, and before the Geonic period, beginning in the late 500s or late 600s (Elman 1999, 58). Counter to Ong's view that writing is an important aid to analysis, Elman sees the oral skills of the Rabbis as an aid to their analytical abilities (Elman 1999, 59). It is significant to Elman's view that "we have a fully realized ideology of orality both before and after the period of redaction" (Elman 1999, 59). This suggests that the redaction itself was carried on primarily through oral means.

Elman notes the scope of the redaction. "The redactors not only gathered together some 45,000 attributed traditions, but approximately doubled the size of the nascent Babylonian Talmud in their (perhaps) 75 years of activity" (Elman 1999, 60). He does question whether this would be possible within an oral climate, but he concludes that it can be conceived. Especially given the higly oral Rabbinic culture of Babylon, it is possible, and the fact that the compiled material is in the form of dialog is significant. The dialogic structure is a strong mnemonic tool (Elman 1999, 61).

Elman further considers that the inclusion of variants is significant. Elman notes that variants are normally introduced with terminology indicating speech, rather than writing (Elman 1999, 61). The variants tend to show growth and adjustments over a period of time as well. For instance, Elman notes somediscourses which speak of cooking on fires set before the Sabbath but being used on the Sabbath. They show some development of idea within the listed variants. This suggests oral development rather than written development (Elman 1999, 63).

Elman continues to describe the Babylonian Rebbinic society as lacking a culture of books. References to writing almost uniformly point to the written words of Scripture or to copies of legal documents, not to other materials. References to speaking, however, refer overwhelmingly to non-Scriptural materials (Elman 1999, 64).

Another matter of interest to Elman is that the layers of the Talmud which come from the Amoraic period and afterward do not use terms "for copying, arranging, editing and redaction. It is almosti mpossible to imagine that the redactors, aware as they must have been of the ground-breaking nature of the activity to which they were devoting themselves, would not have adapted or devised some terminology to describe the activity in which they were engaged" (Elman 1999, 65). The terms for arrangement, which later came to be used for editing, are normally used for oral activity rather than written activity. This suggests to Elman that the work of redaction was carried on in the context of an oral culture, and was not done in writing (Elman 1999, 66).

Elman moves on to a discussion of the relative size of the Talmudic revisions and editions, particuularly in comparison to the Scriptural text. The Talmuds are several times as extensive as the Scripture. The increases in size during the redactional periods are themselves larger than the Scripture. Rabbinic law was considered to be too extensive to be kept in writing, at least as early as the middle of the fourth century (Elman 1999, 73). From a practical standpoint as well, Elman observes that the codex was not used within Jewish tradition until at least the eighth century. Locating passages within written scrolls was cumbersome at best. It may well have made more sense to keep these materials in an oral tradition (Elman 1999, 73). Copying the Talmud would have been possible, however, Elman considers it to have been a very significant amount of work. This would have encouraged preservation of the materials in an oral tradition (Elman 1999, 75).

Elman observes that there are words used in the Talmud which would likely have indicated emendation. However, in general he finds them to refer most naturally to creation of oral variations, not to written variants (Elman 1999, 76). Later practice shows that emendations of written texts are rarely preserved in margins, but are rather inserted directly into the text. This is not as likely a way to preserve a written text, but is consistent with oral practice, as there are no margins in oral communication (Elman 1999, 78). Again, Elman observes that language used to refer to the Mishnah is almost entirely related to speaking and hearing, not to writing and reading (Elman 1999, 80). This is the case both in Babylon and in Palestine.

Elman finally turns his attention to formulaic characteristics of the Mishnah, the Tosefta, and the Talmuds. The formulaic character strongly suggests an oral culture surrounding the transmission of the material (Elman 1999, 81). He concludes his paper by using a specific text for analysis. He finds that the formulas are used in a relatively dense nature with little variation when compared to other instances of similar formulas. The dialogical features likewise show high levels of repetition (Elman 1999, 84). From a literary perspective, the structure is relatively orderly and even intricate. However, this is not uncommon in a highly oral society (Elman 1999, 86). He notes this not only in Babylonian material, but also in Palestinian material (Elman 1999, 87).

Elman concludes very briefly that the redactional material is primarily and essentially oral in nature, though there may have been some written portions available at times (Elman 1999, 93).

Storytelling as Migratory Flight

1/8/2021

1/8/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

Ben-Amos, Dan. "Jewish Folk Literature." Oral Tradition 14:1 (1999), 140-274.

Ben-Amos observes that Jewish folklore is a primarily oral tradition which has developed in many nations, with independent strands. In this lengthy article he traces some of those strands (Ben-Amos 1999, 140).

The Hebrew Bible records numerous instances of storytelling, both spontaneous and more formal and historical in nature. The ritual historical narration is evidenced, among other places, in Deuteronomy 6:21 and Exodus 13:8, where people are told to tell particular events to their family members (Ben-Amos 1999, 141). Ben-Amos gives examples of particular speakers or singers are noted in Numbers 21:27, Ezekiel 21:5, Jeremiah 9:16, 1 Samuel 19:36, Ezra 2:41, and Nehemiah 12:28. (Ben-Amos 1999, 142). There are examples of oral proverbs which were part of a body of proverbs well known. Pieces of narrative are repeated in the Hebrew Bible, indicating that themes and stories were used and re-used. Ben-Amos gives numerous examples of passages where events are told and re-told. Not only is this tradition evident within the Hebrew Bible, but Ben-Amos identifies a number of themes which are very common in oral traditions of the Ancient Near East (Ben-Amos 1999, 143-144). He further notes that patterns typical of oral poetry appear frequently within the Psalms and the Prophets.

The apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha also contain many elements of folklore (Ben-Amos 1999, 144-145). Though the works are considered to be outside of canonical use, and contain what Ben-Amos would consider "sectarian views," some certainly come from Jewish communities and provide exmaples of folklore. As primarily written documents, these works are more generally tied to a literate tradition. However, even these primarily written documents bear marks of orality. They "bear the stamp of cultural or sectarian ideas that share a broad social basis; they cannot, therefore, be grounded in the imagination of a single author" (Ben-Amos 1999, 146). Some of the narratives consist of tales of biblical figures. Others make particular associations of biblical figures with locations (Ben-Amos 1999, 146-147). Particularly in the books of Maccabees some of the material is legendary in nature. The stories themselves seem rooted in oral tradition and then are used in later oral traditions (Ben-Amos 1999, 148). Ben-Amos also observes that there are a few "fictive folktales" which take biblical characters or settings and built a tale around them.

Oral tradition within Jewish folklore "during the first six or seven centuries CE in Jewish societies in the Land of Israel and in Babylon" is sometimes referred to as "the oral Torah" (Ben-Amos 1999, 149). While the written Torah is recognized as the Scriptures, the oral Torah describes Jewish culture. For that reason, it bears an authority of its own (Ben-Amos 1999, 150). This oral tradition was used to teach and preserve a popular culture, primarily through a body of storytelling. Ben-Amos sees this oral culture as an integral part of maintenance of a distinctive Jewish society (Ben-Amos 1999, 151). Ben-Amos even notes that there were rabbis and other "professional memorizers" who would memorize both the written Scripture and the oral tradition in detail (Ben-Amos 1999, 152). Ben-Amos notes several narratives which apparently have a fairly long history in oral tradition but which were written down only in recent centuries.

Ben-Amos describes the oral exposition of Hebrew Scripture as fitting into three (not mutually exclusive) modes. "In the interpretive mode, speakers often clarify obscurities and inconsistencies and propose causes or motivations for actions" (Ben-Amos 1999, 153-154). For instance, the interpreter may build the discussion between Cain and Abel leading up to the death of Abel. This activity may apply both to Torah and to the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha. Using the "expansive mod" the situation is made larger, with more details and characters. In the "associative" mode, different passages would be related to one another. Ben-Amos considers this to be limited in its scope. "Interpreters conceived of the entire Scripture as a closed system, and projected into it their own traditional associations" (Ben-Amos 1999, 155). The oral exposition extended to all sorts of events, including the destruction of the first Temple and its place on the calendar (Ben-Amos 1999, 157).

The Rabbinical period gives us the Talmuds and the Midrashic books. Ben-Amos notes that these have narratives from the "tannaim" from the first and second centuries, often told by the "amoraim," rabbis from the third through sixth centuries (Ben-Amos 1999, 158). Many of the Talmudic events focus on events and people from Palestine. Narratives tend to center around major characters who are "holy men, rabbis, and martyrs" (Ben-Amos 1999, 159). Not all the tales are strictly historical. "In the Jewish tradition narrators do not distinguish between fictive and historical tales, the one exception being sheer tall tales. From the narrators' perspectives all stories, the biographical as well as the miraculous, are true. The narrative interpretation, expansion, and association of biblical events and figures take the biblical text as evidence for their veracity, and therefore they too are true" (Ben-Amos 1999, 161). Some narrators, however, do make specific reference to particular political events. These narratives may be seen as more reliable historically.

Ben-Amos shows that the oral tradition in Jewish society does "include humorous tales, parables, and proverbs" (Ben-Amos 1999, 162). The use of humor was considered important in breaking down tensions and preparing people to receive lessons. The tales are typically told as truth, but they would never be considered anything but a falsehood. Parabolic tales are common, drawing figurative language from the natural world. Linguistic analogies often appear in these parables. They would be recognized as not literally true but as stories which express a truth (Ben-Amos 1999, 164). Ben-Amos notes that some of the parabolic oral tradition shows clear reference to Aesopic fables. The traditions also tend to refer such parables to specific historical or political situations (Ben-Amos 1999, 165). The oral tradition also represents many quotations of proverbs, normally validating a position. The authority of the tradition is emphasized by citation of one or more proverb which demonstrates the point of view (Ben-Amos 1999, 166).

Ben-Amos further shows that Jewish society has a history of particular formal occasions for telling particular types of tales, as well as the reading of particular texts from the Scripture. Citing Nehemiah 8:1-2, he observes that the reading of Torah was accompanied by oral interpreation (Ben-Amos 1999, 167). The Talmud does distinguish between that which is oral and that which is written, prohibiting recitation by memory of Scripture and recitation by reading of oral traditions. The storytelling of rabbis is a common element in the Tamuds, as Ben-Amos illustrates with numerous passages.

Ben-Amos details some of the practices of the synagogue, in which there were reading and sermons. Some preachers were known to be exciting, others not. The rise of the synagogue did develop different branches of oral tradition, some more concerned with the law and othes more concerned with folklore (Ben-Amos 1999, 168). While the teaching of the law was considered more important than the folklore, both were important elements in the culture. Ben-Amos considers that the oral and literary pursuits tended to overlap with one another. This reader would take his statements to indicate that the rabbis who were involved in the folklore were still literate.

The oral tradition within Judaism is described by a significant vocabulary, indicating different genres. Ben-Amos describes a number of these genres. Some are essentially exegetical in nature (Ben-Amos 1999, 170). Other categories include fables, exaggerations, poetic examples, and stories of tricksters. Ben-Amos observes that there are many different types of spoken genres, not all of which are given names (Ben-Amos 1999, 171).

The medieval period in Jewish oral and literary work begins with the Arab conquest of the seventh century. Though collections of works continued to be made, and new compositions arose, Ben-Amos sees the type of composition changing to a greater emphasis on the biblical texts (Ben-Amos 1999, 172). The tradition was essentially retold, in several ways. "The retelling of tradition involved decentralization, individualization, linguistic diversity, generic and thematic expansion, and the adaptation of new literary modes of presentation" (Ben-Amos 1999, 173). Ben-Amos approaches those in turn.

As the Jewish communities spread, the literature was less focused in Palestine. Oral traditions and folklore came from different parts of the world, particularly Babylonia (Ben-Amos 1999, 173). Ben-Amos notes that some of the material from these different communities were in Hebrew and some were in the local languages.

By individualization, Ben-Amos means that there were citations of sources of materials, as well as some suggestions to the history of a tale's transmission (Ben-Amos 1999, 174-175). The voices involved in a story would be identifiable.

Though much literature and oral tradition maintained the use of Hebrew, Ben-Amos notes that local languages, and hybrid languages including elements of Hebrew and a local language would be used in the medieval period (Ben-Amos 1999, 176). The Hebrew alphabet was used, though the language might not be Hebrew. Ben-Amos discusses in brief a number of different texts in these combinations of languages. Some were based on oral tradition, while others were based on literary traditions.

The genres and themes of medieval Jewish folk literature expanded considerably as well. International folktales came into the literary tradition. Ben-Amos suggests they were previously known and told, but in the medieval period these tales from different nations were written for preservation (Ben-Amos 1999, 178). These tales are varied and abundant. In the same general theme, we find folk literature translated from other languages, mostly into Hebrew (Ben-Amos 1999, 180). Another theme which arises frequently is that of history. The accounts may be family histories, local information, or be related toJewish interests particularly (Ben-Amos 1999, 181). Ben-Amos provides numerous examples of these accounts.

The shift of presentation in the medieval period allowed for both oral and literary use of framed narratives rather than materials which were based on existing texts (Ben-Amos 1999, 183). Ben-Amos sees this as an important move, as it led to the rise of independent stories. Though they would regularly be tied in some way to a pre-existing theme, they might not have such a clear dependence.

Magical texts also arise in the middle ages. Ben-Amos cites Exodus 20:7 to suggest "that the priests neither condoned nor eradicated the use of magic in Israelite society. The same attitude, with the same results, prevailed in later periods" (Ben-Amos 1999, 184). In practice, some magic practitioners were active. Ben-Amos finds literature including incantations as well as magical prescriptions, or charms (Ben-Amos 1999, 185). In this literature, the material is taken from Scripture but is rearranged in such a way as to make it unrecognizable. The power is seen to come from the original context. Ben-Amos suggests the most common methods would be by reversing letters or makeing collections of letters such as an anagram. It could be deciphered by someone who understood the original reference. This led to complex systems of symbolic numbers and letters, as well as combinations of words thought to have power.

The development of the printing press and the expulsion of Jews from Spain, both events in the 15th century, had a profound influence on Jewish literature of the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries. Ben-Amos observes that printing of Hebrew books began by the end of the fifteenth century (Ben-Amos 1999, 186). This may well have led to an increase in the creativity of writers, who thought they could be made visible to additional readers. They tended to do so by retelling biblcal events but dressing the characters and settings in a modern style (Ben-Amos 1999, 187). Personalities and events would be recreated in the contemporary manner. For instance, members of royalty were uniformly considered demonic. Important individuals would be assumed to have special magical powers. In 1492 Jews were expelled from Spain, although they had been "an integral part of the Spanish social, cultural, and economic fabric of life" (Ben-Amos 1999, 190-191). Their removal from Spain urged a sense of nostalgia which caused oral tradition to flourish. Ben-Amos finds this to be especially the case in therms of folk music. Ballads were well enough known that a brief reference to a first line was adequate to remind the singer of the tune and structure (Ben-Amos 1999, 191).

Ben-Amos observes another move to record Jewish folklore, this in the 19th and 20th centuries. This has contineud up to the time of the article, in 1999 (Ben-Amos 1999, 193). The rise of Hasidic traditions in eastern Europe roughly coincides with the work of Jacob and Wilhem Grimm. The tales collected in the Hasidic tradition include themes current to the composition (Ben-Amos 1999, 194). Publication of some of the Judeo-Spanish materials also began in the late 19th century. Ben-Amos considers this to be likely primarily motivated by hope of economic gain (Ben-Amos 1999, 195). The Iraqi Jewish community is the oldest found outside of Israel. Ben-Amos reminds the reader that it is the source of the Babylonian Talmud (Ben-Amos 1999, 196). The mid 19th century saw numerous manuscript publications of Iraqi Jewish tales, though they were in manuscript, as there were no Jewish printing presses located in Iraq. Some did come into print, published in India, near the end of the 19th century (Ben-Amos 1999, 197). Ben-Amos notes that in Kurdistan and Yemen there were very low rates of literacy and, though there were Jewish folk tales, they were rarely reproduced in written form (Ben-Amos 1999, 199-200). However, after the establishment of national Israel, the Yemeni immigrants to Israel did tend to bring their folk tales into written form. In contrast to this phenomenon, in the North African countries, where literacy has historically been fairly high, oral materials were typically retained in oral form rather than being written (Ben-Amos 1999, 200-201).

Research into Jewish oral literature began in formal terms during the 19th century, with the work of Rabbi Nachman Krochmal. "According to his view, the aggadah revealed the essential tenets of Judaism to the unlettered folk" (Ben-Amos 1999, 201). Ben-Amos further notes Leopold Zunz as an early luminary in the field. Scholarly study of Jewish folklore in Germany attracted the interest of writers and poets as well, who became interested in the different shades of cultural meaning which could be found not only in German works but in those of other areas (Ben-Amos 1999, 202). This also led to an awakening interest in the Yiddish language, which was recognized as a language which could be used for sophisticated literature and poetry (Ben-Amos 1999, 203). Collection of folklore and the re-identification of heroic figures as spiritual people rather than warriors characterized much of the work of the German Jewish folklorists. The discipline flourished especially toward the end of the 19th century and into the beginnning of the 20th century, when many works were published (Ben-Amos 1999, 204). In the wake of World War II, research activities resurfaced in Israel and the United States. In this period, the study of Jewish folklore became an international pursuit, with significant growth in Eastern Europe and tracing of migrations of Jewish communities (Ben-Amos 1999, 205).

Ben-Amos further observes that studies of Jewish oral tradition also "shifted the scholarly perspectives on Jewish life. No longer solely pious, spiritual, and religious - since print reflected 'Jewishness' - oral traditions present the secular dimension of cultural life, not the least of which included fantastic, demonic, bawdy, and erotic elements" (Ben-Amos 1999, 206). The folktales deal with all sorts of elements of life and community, including those which are not exclusively directly connected wit hthe religious faith.

Ben-Amos notes that in recording of Yiddish oral tales, many of which had been published in Jewish communities in Eastern Europe, the narrators told stories which would differ somewhat from those "told" in print under "the controlling normative influence of the learned rabbis, printers, and editors" (Ben-Amos 1999, 208). The collectors were then able to identify international qualities and types of tales which went beyond the bounds of any one locality. A significant portion of this work involved the identification of Sephardic folktales which came from the Iberian peninsula. The forms which could be identified were no longer in use in Spain, but had migrated with the Jewish folklore (Ben-Amos 1999, 209). Likewise, some folktale forms from Iraq and Yemen migrated to Israel in and after 1948. Particularly important are traditional forms of hagiography, which came from medieval Jewish and Arabic traditions and moved from the areas dominated by Islam to Israel (Ben-Amos 1999, 210).

In the creation of the State of Israel, a restoration of Hebrew folkore took on greater importance.For this reason, publication and republication of narratives which were presented in Hebrew rose to prominence (Ben-Amos 1999, 211). In this regard, Ben-Amos speaks frequently of collectors who "recorded" texts. This reader could wish he were specific whether the recording in this period was an audio recording or a recording in print In whatever way it was done, though the collections of oral materials have been significant (Ben-Amos 1999, 212). Ben-Amos finds that the last third of the 20th century has seen "a growing polarization in Israeli society between secular and religious Jews" (Ben-Amos 1999, 214). While the secularists tend to engage in jokes, tales of woe, and local legends, the religiously oriented Jews have tended to move back to religious topics.

Ben-Amos recognizes folk songs as a different literary concept from folk tales. Scholarship pertaining to folk songs rose at the same time as the scholarship which worked with folk tales. Again, the texts tend to migrate from orality to literacy and back (Ben-Amos 1999, 214). However, folk songs have not proven as likely to be expressed in print. Again, it is not entirely clear whether the 20th century preservation of folk songs has been in print or in audio recording, though Ben-Amos does mention "musical broad sheets of the 'Tenement Songs'" (Ben-Amos 1999, 215). The Judeo-Spanish poetry and folk songs have been the subject of extensive research. "Thematically speaking these poems range from tales of Spanish heroic epics, French Carolingian narratives, and historical and biblical ballads, to the whole gamut of romantic relations" (Ben-Amos 1999, 216). The themes are not the same as those of the midrashic literature. While some biblical stories do appear, the stories and themes are rarely the same in the two types of literature. Ben-Amos notes that "study of Judeo-Arabic oral poetry is in its inception" (Ben-Amos 1999, 217). The analysis thus far has focused on musical features and not the features of texts. Hebrew folk songs have arisen since the establishment of National Israel. Ben-Amos observes that these songs are slightly artificial because they didn't necessarily spring naturally from a culture. Many have been created to stabilize the culture, and have been distributed by means of schools and political movements, rather than flowing more naturally through families (Ben-Amos 1999, 218).

Yiddish is a language which lends itself very naturally to proverbs. These have been collected extensively in the late 19th century and through the 20th century (Ben-Amos 1999, 219). Ben-Amos finds in many of these proverbs a force of wit and character which is attractive to non-Jewish cultures as well. The use of proverbs is not limited to Yiddish, though. It has been identified in much the same form in Judeo-Spanish works, leading to independent collections of the proverbs in the Jewish-Spanish communities (Ben-Amos 1999, 220). Judeo-Arabic proverbs are likewise used extensively. Ben-Amos considers the tradition to have arisen there "from biblical and talmudic-midrashic sources" (Ben-Amos 1999, 221). Hebrew proverbs are also common. However, Ben-Amos sees this study as a specially challenging discipline. In Hebrew, proverbs cross both boundaries of language and type of literature, as Hebrew is used as both a sacred and a vernacular language.

Riddles are often considered children's games. For this reason, Ben-Amos finds that recording and analysis of riddles in Yiddish, Judeo-Spanish, and Judeo-Arabic is very rare (Ben-Amos 1999, 223). What does surprise Ben-Amos is that riddles are a common feature of Arabic medieval literature and folklore, but are almost entirely lacking in Jewish folklore of the Arabic territories. In sharp contrast, riddles appear frequently in Hebrew literature, though they have not been studied in a significant way (Ben-Amos 1999, 224).

The use of humor in Jewish socieites has been a matter of debate. Some scholars have considered Jews to be lacking in humor, while others, especially in the 20th century, have considered Jewish humor to be of a certain, oddly self-deprecating type (Ben-Amos 1999, 225). Ben-Amos concludes that Jewish humor in general fits into the mold of that of many ethnic minorities. The humor tends to represent the experiences common to those who are marginalized.

The experience of the Holocaust was a particularly fertile ground for Jewish folklore (Ben-Amos 1999, 226). Not only did East European Jews engage in their folklore as they always had, but they also created new idioms, codes, and legends which would contribute to their cultural survival. Folklorists also entered material which might have been lost into journals. Hebrew terms were often substituted for Yiddish terms which would be recognizable to speakers of German, thus making the speech less intelligible.

Jewish poets and writers played a leading role in 20th century folklore research. Ben-Amos finds them important particularly because of their ability to creatively express the heart of their culture in terms which could be grasped by the general public. "They considered folklore to be a source of cultural renewal, searching for themes that would replenish their imagination and offer their urban intellectual readers a revived contact with the tradition they left behind and from which they had already alienated themselves (Ben-Amos 1999, 229). Ben-Amos finds that the literary figures were more comfortable in print, rather than making recordings of folk songs or folktales. The poets and writers rather rewrote tales or alluded to them in their stories (Ben-Amos 1999, 231).

Oral and Literary Layers Overlapping

1/1/2021

1/1/21
Friday's Orality/Rhetoric Lesson

Alexander, Elizabeth Shanks. "The Fixing of the Oral Mishnah and the Displacement of Meaning." Oral Tradition 14:1 (1999), 100-139.

Alexander observes that "ancient students of the Mishnah, a third-century legal handbook, failed to note and respond to the Mishnah's prima facie straightforward meaning" (Alexander 1999, 100). She then attempots to explain how the different interpretations may have been reached and why one became prominent over the other. Of particular interest is that these materials were oral in their composition and performance. It may well be that interpretation of oral materials occurs in a specific and possibly different manner than interpretation of written materials (Alexander 1999, 101). The two schools of thought are the Tannaitic and Amoraic schools.

Among the ancient Mishnaic scholars, training largely consisted of repetitive recitation of different legal scenarios and their respective rulings (Alexander 1999, 102). During the Tannaitic period the materials were generally loosely configured and the recitation patterns appear to be more varied. In the Amoraic period the collection of texts was more clearly defined and the text was taken to relate specifically to another text in a relatively precise way. However, in the Amoraic period the parallels and juxtapositions were based on fragments of the texts, rather than on the entire text (Alexander 1999, 103). This allowed for creating new interpretations based on the same scenarios.

Alexander considers that the fluidity of the collection of texts during the Tannaitic period allowed the legal scenarios to signify broad principles. "However, when the materials became fixed, an inquiry began as to what they meant. In other words, fixing Mishnaic materials initiated the task of commentary" (Alexander 1999, 104). This further led to an apparent discovery of different legal principles. Additionally, Alexander takes this phenomenon to exemplify "how a theory of overlapping oral and written registers may be more useful than the previous Great Divide theory of orality versus literacy" (Alexander 1999, 104). The oral register tends to show influences of prior oral performance, while the written register tends to comment on a fixed body of information in specific ways. Alexander suggests that the fixed interpretations which emerged represent "competing effects of oral and written registers during the Amoraic era. Even though the text's fixity provided an impulse for commentary, meaning was still assessed as if the text were fluid" (Alexander 1999, 105). This further suggests to Alexander that the Amoraim may have missed the connections of the Tannaitic period because they were understanding orality through the lens of a literate register.

Alexander goes on to speak about the fluidity of the text concept during the Tannaitic period (Alexander 1999, 106). Meaning of a "text" which is extremely fluid is a difficult thing to construe. The ideas must be constructed in order to find meaning. However, knowing how the "compositional building blocks" (Alexander 1999, 106) work is a challenge. They are used in particular relationships and formulations, not simply according to random chance. Alexander provides an example from M Shev. 3:2, in which the person who swears he will not eat and then eats is liable for one count, but the person who swears he will not eat three specific things then eats them is liable for three counts. In the narrative. there are basic elements, the oath and the breaking of the oath. The order of events is also a stable element. The oath is made, the oath is broken, the conclusion is made (Alexander 1999, 107). Alexander notes that the basic structure illustrated, that of two cases with slight contrasts, appears many times. Providing examples which have contrast through the change of one variable is common in the Mishna and in other Tannaitic materials (Alexander 1999, 108). Alexander provides an extended illustration of this idea through a quotation of a case used for instruction and debate. The case provided, from the midrash works out legal signifncance in a similar way to te Mishnah (Alexander 1999, 111). The mechanics are similar, but the outcome of the case is open to divergent interpretations, based on the shifting of one variable at a time in the case.

Alexander sees an instability in the comparison of the Sifra and the Mishna, namely the variable which is shifted. "In the Sifra, the shifting variable is conceptual...In the Mishnah the shifting variable is the position of the phrase: 'wheat bread, barley bread, and spelt bread'"(Alexander 1999, 113). This may well have come from differences in the performative process, and be explained by differences in the latitude inherent in the performative process in different settings. The tradition may well have held implications of what elements could be related to one another (Alexander 1999, 114).

Alexander provides another example of Mishna (Shev 3:4) which provides some of the Mishna's meaning but doesn't explain the dispute very clearly. The oath is made, the person eats or drinks something not generally eaten or drunk, and is exempt. However, when the person eats unclean itesm it is considered purposeful and a violation of the oath (Alexander 1999, 116). Alexander brings up another passage in the Tosefta, dealing with the same kind of situation (T Shev. 2:1-2). Again, it is constructed from the same idea but with a shift of one variable (Alexander 1999, 117). The outcome of the case is routinely based on the contrast between two different terms of the argument and the law (Alexander 1999, 119). Alexander sees this as difficult to perceive when there is only one element of the argument present, or when a law is presented without a contrasting law. However, many of these situations found in the Mishna can be found in other sources which provide more structural information. Alexander illustrates this with a parallel from the Tosefta, again describing an oath (Alexander 1999, 120). The oral process follows a predictable pattern of fixed relationships among different elements. The contrasts are seen more clearly through commentary and expansion of the briefer of the passages. The commentators apparently understood the relationships to be used (Alexander 1999, 121). Based on Alexander's ideas of structural patterns, she goes on to suggest that M Shev 3:7 and 3:9 originally were "products of the same performative series." The similarities with a repeated element signal consistency, though they are not tied together clearly in current redactional analysis (Alexander 1999, 123).

Alexander's overall conclusion is that it is necessary to be sensitive to the relationships among different elements which can be identified in composition. This particularly applies to Mishnaic statements and the apparent fluidity of their early development (Alexander 1999, 124). The traditional relationships among different passages can direct our attention to their origins.

By the time of the Amoraic period, the Mishnaic text was more clearly fixed (Alexander 1999, 124). Yet the interpretation given it often reflects an understanding of the ideas as more fluid. Alexander considers it particularly important that the Amoraic interpreters work with smaller fragments of the text, rather than what she would consider to be "compositional building blocks" (Alexander 1999, 125). For example, rather than drawing the ccontrast between a valid oath and a false oath, these interpreters might draw a contrast between eating and drinking. This is a more fragmentary approach to the Mishnah (Alexander 1999, 126). Further, it is possible to fuse eating and drinking together into one element and use a contrasting element such as working on a holy day. The referent of the action itself changes, while the idea of a valid oath does not (Alexander 1999, 127).

The fragmentation during the Amoraic period "necessarily severs the resonances with other configurations of the compositionl elements. The relationship from the original performative traditions are even further obscured as new relationships come to the fore, relating our Mishnaic fragment to others with a similar theme" (Alexander 1999, 129). The relationship of different themes become more abstract. Oral exercise then tried to draw additional connections among the different areas of the law. This would broaden the legal significance of the various fragmentary elements (Alexander 1999, 131). Alexander illustrates this with several examples, again dealing with oaths of fasting and subsequent eating. The most clear change in interpretation is that each word is given equal weight, rather than each idea being analyzed. The variability in wording which is natural to oral composition is now seen as a variability in overall meaning (Alexander 1999, 135).

Alexander summarizes that although the Tannaitic and Amoraic periods emphasized oral performance, the foundation for that oral practice changed. In the Tannaitic period the Mishna was seen as fluid. This led to interpretations of overarching ideas. In the Amoraic period the Mishna was seen as a fixed text. This led to interpretations based on smaller groups of words. The basis upon which the interpreations were made did not essentially change, but a secondary level of interpretation appears to have been imposed, likely based on a difference between oral and literary assumptions (Alexander 1999, 137).

Storytelling as Instruction

12/25/2020

Wasson, George & Barre Toelken. "Coyote and the Strawberries: Cultural Drama and Cultural Collaboration." Oral Tradition 13:1 (1998), 176-199.

Toelken notes that the culture of the Coquelles, which givs us this narrative, is still alive, but the language has become extinct. The narrative, then, is rendered in English as it is performed (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 176). He assumes that there is some particular tribal concern or value which leads to many of the elements in the story of the coyote and the strawberries, therefore his intention is to explore the story for these values. The tribe is from the Coos Bay area of Oregon. Wasson is from the tribal community and learned the story as well as the tribal culture from his childhood (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 178).

Wasson considers the story to be a "family favorite for many generations" (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 179). He emphasizes that the English usage was already struggled with by native speakers who knew the story in the Milluk language. In its historical use, the story was told in particular ways, with respect and even reverence. When people were learning to tell the story they would be corrected by others who had specific recall of the proper forms and orders of events. The stories would also only be appropriate for winter, the season proper to the coyote (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 180).

The story, as told by Wasson, is found on pp. 180-186. He then provides some notes about the features of the story, including its specific location. Many of the natural elements have clear symbolic meanings. For instance, the cedar tree struck by lightning is considered appropriate for sacred medicine. Woodpeckers were considered with respect and should never be molested, and the woodpecker in the story is molested in the same ways it would be inappropriate to molest an unmarried woman (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 187). The coyote's attempt to plug his rectum would be considered tantamount to insanity. The use of material fitting for a torch or then a medicinal plant is humorous and also shows the foolishness of the coyote (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 188). The interactinos with the seagulls, the whale, and the salmons suggest disordered family relationships of some sort. Wasson considers them consistent with numerous other stories which use similar characters.

Toelken makes a comment of analysis. He notes that it is tempting to look for similar themes and compare other stories to look for an authoritative original stury. This would certainly be possible, as Toelken demonstrates by a variety of references to different cultural stories (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 190). However, he considers the underlying "issues of relationships, ritual and social obligations, moral behaviors and responsibilities, issues that are usually the crux of Native American stories and that vary considerably in their organization and meaning from tribe to tribe" to be more important (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 191).

The figure of the Coyote is common to many cultures, though Toelken observes he is often a different type of animal. He is a trickster who is at once shrewd and foolish. Tolkein considers this to be important. The character has various aspects which are sometimes contradictory to one another and which overlap one another. This is a complex individual (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 193). The fact that he breaks cultural expectations and is forced to an act of self-mutiliation so as to cope with his failing is important. This self-mutilation sets the stage for acts of selfishness. It also places him in a position which leads to more self-destruction, accompanied by further breaking of cultural expectations in such a way as to cause offense (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 194).

Wasson notes that there are several natural discrepancies in the story as well. Not only is the idea of self-surgery and reassembly nonsense, particularly in the native views of medicine, but the weather situation doesn't add up. The story starts with a hailstorm, typical of February, then continues with strawberries, a June crop. It could be that the setting recalls an odd weather pattern which was repeated in 1995, with a surprisingly late snow storm. The overall setting, however, is remarkable, which may parallel the remarkable behavior of the coyote (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 196).

Toelken observes that the theme of seeing and looking at things seems important. There is a great deal of looking and being surprised by what can or cannot be seen in the story. It is possible that the idea is that we should learn to see more clearly (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 197).

Both authors note that there are a number of explanatory comments in the story. Though they change slightly based on the setting of the telling of the story, Wasson observes that the comments belong at their places in the story and are part of the form. Neither Toelken nor Wasson explains the significance of this phenomenon, but they do suggest that there may be fruitful study to be done in this regard (Wasson & Toelken 1998, 197).

Traditional Oral Presentations and Analysis

12/18/2020

Molina, Felipe S. & Larry Evers. "'Like this it stays in your hands': Collaboration and Ethnopoetics." Oral Tradition 13:1 (1998), 15-57.

Molina and Evers analyze a talk by a Native American "deer singer," Miki Maaso, who links knowledge and responsibility in the work of oral composition (Molina & Evers 1998, 15). Research into the process by which such poetry is created, and any attempt at cooperative efforts, suggesting "collaboration," is viewed with suspicion on the part of the native poet/performers. Molina and Evers observe that there is a deep fear that non-Native Americans will do damage to some essential element of the work (Molina & Evers 1998, 16).

Molina and Evers had been interested in the native deer dances and songs since the 1970s, and sought to bring singers together in such a way as to enable conversation and understanding (Molina & Evers 1998, 18). This conference idea was brought to fruition in December of 1987, at Yoem Pueblo in Marana, Arizona. Evers observes that the participants, mostly ages 12-26, "talked, performed, and worked with interested members of the Yaqui communities almost every hour during the four day visit" (Molina & Evers 1998, 19). Some material was recorded, but much was not. The researchers transcribed a sermon and one or more songs as well. However, they showed considerable sensitivity as they recognized that the sermon and the singing and dancing were of a religious nature and needed to be treated as such, rather than as a spectator event (Molina & Evers 1998, 20).

Evers expresses that he was hesitant about the project. Molina was more interested in it and was the one who procured the funding. Evers was uncertain how the deer singers would be motivated to explain their work and how it would be appropriate to discuss it (Molina & Evers 1998, 23). This was made more difficult because, in Evers' opinion, historically such discussions have not occurred. Rather, the Native Americans have done their performances and the non-Native Americans have engaged in interpretation. This has resulted in dissatisfaction on the part of the native participants. Evers preferred to identify intellectuals who would be recognized as authoritative within the native community and who would also be able to speak within the higher education system (Molina & Evers 1998, 24).

The deer singers learn in particular and traditional ways, from elders who essentially lead in an apprenticeship. It is considered a sacred practice and a holy obligation to carry on the tradition correctly (Molina & Evers 1998, 25). The teachers and performers were not willing to tell how they gained their knowledge or what the particular knowledge was. They consider their work to be something which comes from the spiritual world. Use of the "rasper" - the instrument which will accompany the dance, is likewise considered a matter of sacred trust (Molina & Evers 1998, 27). The knowledge of the rituals is treated as a special and secret matter. Evers notes that the singer who assisted with the research did the work as part of a religious observance, not as a conference or lecture (Molina & Evers 1998, 28).

Molina observes that the sermon is a genre in this tradition which may not always be recognizable. The sermon, however, has a change of tone, a different rhythm, and mentions God, saints, and ancestors, normally at the start. In the Yaqui tradition it will always be entirely positive in nature (Molina & Evers 1998, 29). Evers compares the sermon to a lecture in a conference. Stylistically it is at least slightly elevated and elegant. However, in a Yaqui sermon the truth is located in the heart, not in the head (Molina & Evers 1998, 30). The sermon will frequently emphasize the responsibility of the adults to teach children. Molina quotes and translates a portion of the end, in which there is a traditional statement of the truth staying in the hands, through Jesus, Mary, the saints, and the angels (Molina & Evers 1998, 31).

The article continues with a transcription and annotated translation of the sermon by Miki Maaso from December 22, 1987, as translated by Molina and Evers (Molina & Evers 1998, 32-53). Their notes indicate that the transcription was broken into lines when the speaker paused. There are numerous references to supernatural experiences, which Molina and Evers understand to be within the experience of the singers.

Early Projections - Computer Mediated Communication

12/11/2020

Mason, Bruce Lionel. "E-Texts: The Orality and Literacy Issue Revisited." Oral Tradition 13:2 (1998), 306-329.

Mason's study of computer-mediated communication suggests that there is such a thing as a virtual identity and also a virtual context in which the electronic environment becomes, in some ways, "real." (Mason 1998, 306). He considers here "how computer-mediated communication displays both oral and literate characteristics, thus exploding the reductionist arguments sometimes posited in ora/literate dichotomies" (Mason 1998, 307).

At issue is not whether written communication uses technology of some sort. Writing is a type of technology. The question is whether writing is correctly held in opposition to orality, and whether the distinctions are the same in the case of printing, telephone, radio, and now computerized technology (Mason 1998, 308). Mason, following Ong, sees that texts may have become so natural to our way of thinking that they are no longer clearly outside outselves. Electronic communication, then, may be moving in the same direction (Mason 1998, 309). Mason further notes that the advent of computerized communication is segmented by regional, educational, and income groups, as minorities and lower-income people are underrepresented on the Internet (Mason 1998, 310). We note with interest the fact that this article was published in 1998, at a time when use of the Internet was not very widespread.

Mason points out that the sharp distinction of ten made between oral and written traditions, with oral traditions having a great deal of context and written traditions having hardly any, is a distinction that proves not to be very useful (Mason 1998, 311). Studies of oral cultures which have distinctions between formal and ritual language and everyday communication strongly suggest that the situation is the primary determiner of the level of context needed. Rhetorical customs may appear to be literate, even if they are never written down (Mason 1998, 312). Genre and register may well be as important or more important than whether a text is written or spoken.

Based on this idea, Mason investigates communication using computerized media. Again, since this is in the relatively early days of the Internet, it would be interesting to see what might have developed in the last two decades, plus a little. Mason explains the difference between plain text email and web pages that use colors and have the possibility of graphic design (Mason 1998, 314). He describes studies that showed electronic communication to be socially deficient, and that users of computers have developed customs which assist in communicating emotion. This was a major development through the late 1980s and the 1990s (Mason 1998, 314-315). The use of different features of characters, essentially a form of typesetting, became important during the 1990s to increase the level of emotive communication in computerized text communication. Mason describes several of these efforts (Mason 1998, 316). Studies have also identified that in email communication there will be a mix of "literate" and "oral" characteristics. Realization of this feature of electronic communication strikes Mason as iinteresting and worthy of pursuit (Mason 1998, 317).

Mason analyzes Ong's 1982 Orality and Literacy, trying to apply some of the features of orality to computer-mediated communication. First, he observes that oral communication tends to be additive, with one idea simply tacked onto another. This is very common in electronic communication, with the cut and paste possibilities it provides (Mason 1998, 317). Additionally, the aggregative nature of oral communication bears investigation. Ong's suggestion that formulaic language is used to gather different concepts and characteristics of a subject may or may not appear in electronic communication (Mason 1998, 318). Mason does not find it as a common feature in e-mail, though some examples can be found. Oral cultures often use communication for verbal dueling. Mason finds this in abundance on the Internet (Mason 1998, 319).

Mason suggests that the reason for electronic communication to have many features of orality is because of the perception that it is evanescent (Mason 1998, 321). As with oral communication, in the early days of the Internet messages were kept for a brief period of time, often deleted by servers within a week or two. This reader adds that, although internet-based communications are much more permanent at the present time, it is certainly possible that the authors of the messages have an "out of sight, out of mind" attitude that contributes to a sense of evanescence.

Mason's conclusion is that literacy and the forms normally associated with literacy tends to be considered normative. In computer-mediated communication, the oral practices may eventually pass away, as users consider their electronic communications more in the nature of written communication (Mason 1998, 323). This would be expected to happen particularly because of a disposition held by many that illiteracy equals stupidity. At a distance of 22 years, this reader observes that electronic communication has not taken on more characteristics of literary work, but, rather the opposite, our electronic communication has been simplified, abbreviated, and become more like a casual form of oral communication. This transition can also be seen in other forms of written communication.

Eyewitnesses Redux

12/9/2020

Wednesdays are for Bits and Pieces
12/9/20

Bauckham, Richard. “Chapter 18, The Jesus of Testimony." Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony.” Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2006, pp. 472-508.

Bauckham concludes that the issue of eyewitness testimony, especially in the Fourth Gospel, which makes more significant theological claims than the Synoptics, possibly based on the credibility of its claims to having firsthand knowledge of events, remains essential (Bauckham 2006, 472). He goes on to assert that the element of testimony in the Gospels puts us into direct contact with the Jesus of history who is also the Christ in whom the early Chrsitians placed their faith (Bauckham 2006, 473).

Our notions of testimony may tend to view it all as if it would be used in a legal setting. However, Bauckham demonstrates that this is not the case. We routinely accept information based on formal or informal types of testimony (Bauckham 2006, 474). He also observes that modern views of epistmology have caused us to question testimony in ways which may be inappropriate. Current trends in philosophy lead to an individualistic interpretation, placing the recipient of the testimony as the sole arbiter of its reliability (Bauckham 2006, 476). We are not uncritical, but we must exercise some trust in the testimony presented.

The Gospels, according to Bauckham, are best considered broadly as a form of historiography (Bauckham 2006, 479). In that regard, they naturally rely on the integrity of the known eyewitness or eyewitnesses who provide the accounts. The reliability of witnesses was routinely taken into consideration by responsible authors (Bauckham 2006, 480). This is in contrast to a view of historiography found among many modern scholars, who consider authors in antiquity to be a rather credulous group of people. Bauckham criticizes this chronlogical snobbery in no uncertain terms (Bauckham 2006, 483). He goes so far as to point out the philosophical change fueled by these attitudes toward history. "As in other fields, Enlightenment individualism has led to postmodern skepticism" (Bauckham 2006, 486).

Bauckham re-visits Ricoeur's view of memory and its use in recording history (Bauckham 2006, 487). In this model, historical representations of events emerge after initial accounts and periods of reflection. The original testimony remains central to our conception of the events (Bauckham 2006, 488). At the same time, it is clear to Bauckham that historians do use sources selectively. They attempt to portray one version of events rather than all possible versions (Bauckham 2006, 490).

The way in which testimony is received remains a critical issue to Bauckham. He considers the ancient attachment of importance to "participant eyewitness testimony" to be a healthy balance to much of modern historians' dependence on non-witness sources (Bauckham 2006, 491). Bauckham considers the recent scholarly work with oral histories to be illustrative of the power of the eyewitness. Participants are able to engage with elements of events in ways which the historian and reader cannot (Bauckham 2006, 492). The testimonies of survivors of the Holocaust are a prime example of this powerful engagement. Bauckham transcribes one, observing that it shows aglimpse of a world which we could normally not imagine (Bauckham 2006, 494). The oral testimonies often show signs of very careful thought and even rehearsal. Yet they generally contain very few literary elements. Bauckham sees this as part of the source of their power (Bauckham 2006, 496).

In Bauckham's view, the events surrounding the history of Jesus are deeply and strikingly unique events. Though they are very different in nature from the Holocaust, they would provoke memories and eyewitness accounts which were similarly vivid (Bauckham 2006, 499). By their very nature, accounts of incredible events seem incredible. Primary eyewitness accounts, then, will be the mostreliable sources of information, even and especially when the events defy our understanding (Bauckham 2006, 501). The nature of the Gospels is to reflect just this type of eyewitness narratives.

Bauckham concludes, then, that the Gospels are best considered in the category of authoritative eyewitness testimony. This is what gives them their power and legitimates their claim to describe events which can be expected to seem unbelievable (Bauckham 2006, 505).

Latvian Folksong Structures

12/4/2020

Vikis-Freibergs, Vaira. "Sink or Swim: On Associative Structuring in Longer Latvian Folksongs." Oral Tradition 12:2 (1997), 279-307.

Latvian folksongs were largely gathered and published in the 20th century. Vikis-Freibergs begins by briefly summarizing the publication history of the gathered material. (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 279). Of interest to the author is the way in which the quatrains of the songs follow one another. In the publications some of the relationships of one part of a poem to another is obscured because of a scholarly emphasis on collating thematic patterns. Additionally, the longer songs follow organization patterns which are not always easy to classify. However, Vikis-Freibergs does think that structure is inherent in the idea of composition (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 280). Therefore, it should be possible to identify compositional organizational patterns. "The argument of the present paper is that stanza sequencing in longer songs is never completely random and that some principles of internal cohesion and structuring are at work even in the most loosely organized strings of texts" (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 281). The amount of structuring may differ significantly, but there will be some sort of cohesion. Vikis-Freibergs sets out to identify the major elements of a song, then identify how the song might be segmented. From that point, it may be possible to identify organization.

Although many scholars have identified the quatrain as the basic unit in the songs, Vikis-Freibergs considers that in longer songs the basic stanza is actually a couplet (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 282). She bases this idea on the sense unit of a sentence and the repetitive characteristics of melody, which point more to a couple than to a quatrain. The sensible units, then can be composed one by one, and must be connected to one another.

As a sample, Vikis-Freibergs choses a "text, which we shall call 'The Stone in the River' [which] has been published as song No. 656 in E. Melngailis' collection of melodies from Kurzeme" - a text of eighteen stanzas of two lines each (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 284). She presents a sample, including the first two lines of text and the melodic setting. The eighteen couplets can be "sebmented into seven independent thematic modules" (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 285). She finds that all of the text modules are recorded in other places in the corpus of folksongs, showing that the actual elements are common in multiple songs. To make analysis more challenging, Vikis-Freibergs observes that "four of the seven modules of the 'Stone in the River' song are sextets, that is, a basic quatrain unit followed by a third couplet stanza" (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 287). The links of association within the song overlap with one another and may be show similarities or contrasts. She attempts to show these overlapping links with a chart on pp. 288ff. The song describes the shame a girl would have to bear from gossip and slander in terms of a river being unable to bear a stone thrown into it. While the river not being able to bear the weight of a stone represents the girl not being able to bear shame, a swan is introduced into the sing, representing the girls' possible ability to rise above the challenge of the water. The links, then, show contrast and similarity (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 289). Throughout the text, the twin themes of sinking under adversity and rising to victory are compared and contrasted. The song goes on to compare the maiden to Laima, the goddess of fate and fortune, who, apparently in this song is looking upon the maiden with favor, allowing her to cross the water on a bridge, also allowing her to cross from girlhood to womanhood safely (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 296). The song ends rather abruptly with a negative couplete about an apple tree which is broken by time and storms.

Vikis-Freibergs next considers the overall associative organization of such songs in general. She suggests that the songs are classed as associative if they have no sequential development and if they do have associative elements. The associative elements fall into two categories. The first associative element is a theme which exists throughout the song (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 298). The other would be some sort of syntactic associative elements which could be used. On the whole, between those of meaning and of phonology, there are enough options the poet could certainly make associations.

In the end, Vikis-Freibergs concludes the oral poet would be able to select elements according to desire out of a sizeable store of possible elements. They could be linked together to serve whatever purposes would be desired, whether for making philosophical statements or simply to provide backround and rhythm in work situations (Vikis-Freibergs 1997, 302).

Compositional Formulas

11/27/2020

Sale, Marritt. "In Defense of Milman Parry: Renewing the Oral Theory." Oral Tradition 11:2 (1996), 374-417.

Sale notes that Parry's original work with Homer and oral tradition has largely been discarded, thus calling Parry, Homeric scholarship, and scholarship about oral tradition into question. Parry may well have been excessively formulaic, but Sale's opinion is that the theory, in concept, was sound (Sale 1996, 374-375). To analyze this anew, Sale sets out to evaluate what Parry's conclusions were. It is not at all unreasonable that an oral poet would have eventually adopted writing and revised some original ideas and passages. What Parry demonstrated is that Homer, in fact, "preserved the signature of the oral poet far too clearly for us to speak of a literate poet merely infleunced by, or even steeped in, oral poetry" (Sale 1996, 376). Sale defends the idea of Homer as a consumate artist in performance composition.

Parry's simple thesis is that Homer's diction is "formulaic." Such formulae are useful in oral composition, and can be categorized in some way (Sale 1996, 376). Sale sees Parry as continuing to think of Homer as a traditional poet, working with a relatively formulaic tradition, through the remainder of his career (Sale 1996, 377). Sale grants that at times there are formulae in Homer which seem to exist primarily for metrical convenience. In fact, it may be that Homer created some of these formulae and used some of them from knowledge of source material.

Counter to Parry, Sale thinks the audience would be unlikely to be indifferent to the use of the formulae, but would find them important in understanding the characteristics to which they point (Sale 1996, 377).

Sale reviews ten arguments, all but one directly taken from Parry's work.The arguments can be categorized into four general patterns, quantity of formulae, qualitative nature of formulae, irregularities in meter, and comparison with other works in the body of epic (Sale 1996, 378). Some of these arguments lead to "more modest claims, and make a point that Parry did not reckon with" (Sale 1996, 378). While the extrapolations may have had faults, the theory seems to stand.

To evaluate the claims, Sale frequently refers to Quintus os Smyrna, to Avdo Medjedovic, and, of course, Homer (Sale 1996, 378-379). "Quintus has about 8,800 lines, the Zenidba 12,300, the Odyssey about the same, the Iliad nearly 16,000" (Sale 1996, 379). Comparisons can be made, in general, with some adjustment for the length of the different works.

The first argument is based on numbers of formulae (Sale 1996, 380). From an intuitive point of view, we expect that use of formulae can be to the great advantage of the oral poet. Yet the identification of a formula may be a challenge. Sale observes that Parry himself definds "formula" in multiple different ways. Sale describes seven different ways Parry identifies formulae (Sale 1996, 380-382). Sale then discusses the difficuulties of the different categories of formulae. The requirement of identity in wording or identity in location within a metrical line can lead to debate about whether we are looking at one formula or more than one (Sale 1996, 383).

Comparing a selection of formulae, the Odyssey shows a great number of the categories Sale chooses to inspect. Yet Quintus has approximately the same density, or even greater, and he was clearly a writing poet (Sale 1996, 384). The analysis of particular formulae does not necessarily point to a particular compositional method, though it does point to a style, which may be considered a formulaic style. When Sale compares Homer and Quintus to Avdo, it becomes clear that Avdo, an oral poet, uses a lower density of identifiable formulae (Sale 1996, 386).

The second argument is based on formulae which are regularly used (Sale 1996, 386). The question of what "regularly" means is, not surprisingly, a difficulty. Sale creates a frequency graph which indicates some formulae occurring more regularly than others. Some formulae can serve many purposes, so are more likely to appear frequently (Sale 1996, 388). Quintus has a much lower rate of regular-formula occurrence. Avdo has fewer than Homer, but about four times as many as Quintus. Sale suggests that the oral composition of Homer and Avdo would be the likely cause. Quintus, as a literary poet writing in an oral style may not have captured the formulaic pattern as adequately (Sale 1996, 389).

The third through fifth arguments deal with the quality of formulae rather than the frequency. Argument number three, Sale calls the "multi-purpose-formula argument" (Sale 1996, 390). The formulae normally point to likely referents, fit the major parts of the hexameter line, serve as sense units in the line, and evoke important traditions. The formulae can be used in various places and ways (Sale 1996, 392). These formulae occur over 2600 times in the Odyssey (Sale 1996, 393). Sale asks whether it is necessary to be an oral poet to use these multi-purpose formulae. In fact, Quintus uses them, though not as frequently as Homer (Sale 1996, 394).

Sale calls the fourth argument the "argument from extension" (Sale 1996, 394). Here, if this reader understands correctly, the formulae can be used in multiple ways. They are used in ways which might be expected as well as in ways which might not be expected (Sale 1996, 397). Sale's question here is whether literate poets can use formulae in extension. In fact, Sale finds that Virgil does use these systems, though Quintus does not (Sale 1996, 397).

Sale's fifth argument is the "argument from infrequent formulae" (Sale 1996, 398). Here a formula is created according to a predictable pattern but using a noun which is not part of that typical pattern. (Sale 1996, 399). These formulae are very useful for rapid composition. Sale again asks whether a literate poet would be able to use this system, either purposely or intuitively. Quintus does use the infrequent formulae, quite a lot. For this reason, Sale does not consider the use of the infrequent formulae as a clear marker of orality or literacy.

The sixth argument is an argument from economy (Sale 1996, 400). This argument says that the oral poety will generally not have two formulae with the same meaning and the same metrical structure. Sale notes several difficulties in Parry's argument. Most notably, he tends to blend several different uses of formulae under this category. However, the concept may, in fact, be worthy of exploration. The economy is likely well identified based on the referent, not only the meaning of the formula. When viewed that way, the poet is using a metrically appropriate formula to refer to the right referent in a way which can avoid difficulties in the overall sense of the passage (Sale 1996, 402). Sale does ask whether this is a purely oral compositional feature. Quintus has only five nouns that occur in formulae which could demonstrate or violate economy. "All five nouns behave themselves" (Sale 1996, 404). However, Quintus does violate economy frequently, particularly with the "infrequent formulae." The instances strike Sale as existing purely for the sake of creating variety, which is not a characteristic of oral composition (Sale 1996, 405).

The seventh argument is based on the location of a word in the line. Sale observes that this is not an argument made by Parry (Sale 1996, 405). It is relatively common to find a word appearing at a predictable place in a hexameter line. Homer does this about 80% of the time, while Quintus does only about 60% of the time (Sale 1996, 406). Avdo uses localization approximately as often as Homer. Sale suggests that the literary poet knows about localization but does not see a particular use for it, so will use the tool less frequently (Sale 1996, 407).

Sale's eighth argument is the "argument from metrical irregularity." Here because of the need to compose at the speed of the performance, the composer may have a metrical error. (Sale 1996, 407).

The ninth argument suggests that oral poets in any culture and language will have similarities. Sale calls it "the argument from external analogy" (Sale 1996, 408). At issue here is whether formulae are all traditional in some way. The repetition of phrases may carry over to different cultures as well. However, South Slavic oral poetry does not seem to have the level of oral repetition tha we find in Homer. While there is a good deal of repetition within individual authors, the different authors have different patterns (Sale 1996, 408). Sale's opinion is that the correlation among different oral authors is actually quite high, more than one would expect when crossing the bounds of culture and language. Quintus, as a literate poet, makes a good attempt at the oral style, but his correlation is not so high as that of Homer and Avdo (Sale 1996, 409).

The tenth and final argument is based on "Parry's statement that 'we know surely that Homer's poetry is governed by factors unknown to later Greek poetry'" (Sale 1996, 410). This is a thesis that Parry apparently never followed up in detail. Sale asks what an oral poet might know or do that a good imitator would not. In fact, Quintus has some differences from Homer, while Avdo does not have the same differences, and the argument has been made that Avdo is much closer to Homer. Yet the "why" is never answered in this equation, nor is the possibility that, at least at some points, Homer worked or was worked with in a literary manner.

Sale returns to the original question, though, and asks what defending Milman Parry might inform us about the Homeric art. It is possible to analyze Homer in terms that Parry did, and to find that Homer's use of formulae is consistent with that of other oral poets (Sale 1996, 411). Yet it remains unclear what Homer could or could not do. It does remain clear that Homer used most or all the tools typically used by oral poets.

Interpretation, Interpretation, Interpretation

11/20/2020

Ong, Walter J. "Hermeneutic Forever: Voice, Text, Digitization, and the 'I'" Oral Tradition 10:1 (1995), 3-26.

Ong points out that while we often think of interpretation as something done verbally or orally, in fact, it may be done in many non-verbal ways as well (Ong 1995, 3). Additionally, nonverbal events which comunicate something can be interpreted using words. A classic example of this would be an article or a book describing a scientivic experiment (Ong 1995, 4). The difficulty is that complete interpretation really never happens.

Ong observes that syntax of language is what makes it intelligible (Ong 1995, 5). Yet it is made more intelligible through some nonverbal elements. Ong illustrates the interaction of the verbal and nonverbal at some length. Yet nonverbal communication also has a syntax. To illustrate this, Ong describes a picture of a man carrying a sheep on his shoulders. It would mean something different in a different setting, whether a pastoral culture or a hunting culture, and whether a culture familiar with the New Testament or not (Ong 1995, 7). The challenge to the interpreter is identifying the appropriate context of both words and nonverbal communication.

Ong identifies the word "hermeneutics" as indicating interpretation, but specifically of a "reflective or 'scientific'" nature (Ong 1995, 8). He considers it to be divided into a number of stages. First, he finds there is oral interpretation of oral texts. Here the interpretation is of something which is spoken, but which could be replicated (Ong 1995, 8). There is room for interpretation, according to Ong, because specific oral communication is highly complex. It shows intent and intelligence, therefore is subject to detailed analysis in a way that many natural phenomena are not (Ong 1995, 9).

A second stage of interpretation is textual interpretation of oral utterance. Here the oral message is analyzed in writing as opposed to using speech (Ong 1995, 10). Ong finds this to be similar to the oral interpreation, but to operate more from a textual mindset (Ong 1995, 11).

A third stage is chirographic interpretation of written text. Here manuscripts are copied and commented upon without the rigidity of print and reprint. Much scholarship has been of this nature, as handwriting has historically been very commonly used until relatively recently.

A fourth stage is printed interpretation of printed text. The nature of printing is to make a text more stable, and the comments issued in print are likewise more stable than those spoken or issued in handwriting (Ong 1995, 11). This became a very common situation by the middle of the eighteenth century. It moves the commentator farther from the oral roots of communication.

In recent years we find electronically impleneted hermeneutics for oral utterance. Here an oral message will usually be recorded, then transferred to printed text (Ong 1995, 12).

A sixth stage is that of electronic hermeneutic of written, printed or electronic text. Herewe find tools such as databases which identify and analyze words which are part of a message. Text becomes the single most important element, and may become atomized, though Ong does not use that terminology (Ong 1995, 12).

Hermeneutics has had an explosion in recent years. Ong finds that there is a great emphasis on operating on or manipulating the elements of a textual message which was not common in past generations (Ong 1995, 13). While the discipline of hermenetics, first appearing in English in 1737, was originally applied to sacred texts, it has now become common in other disciplines as well. Ong describes the growth of the term to have included all sorts of interpretation, particularly as it is used since the 1970s (Ong 1995, 14). The word "interpretation" has not been as popular in recent years.

Ong notes that "the Greek term hermeneia refers indifferently to interpretation or explanation of oral utterance or text or other phenomena" (Ong 1995, 15). While it began with oral utterance, by our current time we have left the idea of orality behind and need to consciously return to the oral roots. Text brings in additional technology, at least some rudimentary technology. Oral interpretation requires none of that. Ong considers the playing field for interpretation to have shifted to text largely with the eighteenth century and the ability for authors to make profits by selling their ideas in print (Ong 1995, 16). The communication to be done is based on a microanalysis made possible by the very technology being used for interpretation.

While Ong sees the fragmentation created by computerized analysis as "dehumanizing" he does think our work of hermeneutics has also proceeded in the same direction. As a curative, Ong suggests that hermeneutics is to be a "holistic or totalizing enterprise" (Ong 1995, 17). Recapturing hermeneutics may draw us from the fragmentation of our current world into the ability to look at whole pictures of communication.

In the end, Ong finds that all of everyone's speech is, in a sense, hermeneutic. It is describing a reality, rather than being in and of itself that reality (Ong 1995, 18). The attempt to be explicit is important, but it is a given that we will not be able to communicate in a way which is absolutely, flawlessly, comprehensively explicit. There will always be room for interpretive work.

Ong goes on to describe a textual bias as something that leads to a sort of fundamentalism. This type of fundamentalism tends to limit the meaning of communication through the boundaries of actual text. Ong suggests that communication, and particularly Christian teaching and communication, is not limited to the textual propositional statements which can be made in this sort of fundamentalism (Ong 1995, 20). As an example, he speaks of how a pronoun, such as "I," may serve to describe a larger picture than a name. The name is imposed from outside. The identity and values of "I" come from within and are not as clearly defined. It is a work of hermeneutics to disclose the particular specific identity and values (Ong 1995, 21). At the heart of this communicative issue is that the people in discourse need to become conscious of one another, and interpret each other's values adequately to understand who they are interacting with.

Oral Register

11/13/2020

Niditch, Susan. "Oral Register in the Biblical Libretto: Towards a Biblical Poetic." Oral Tradition 10:2 (1995), 387-408.

Niditch observes that since the 1960s some scholars have sought to understand the biblical narratives in terms of the oral compositional tools identified by Lord and used in Homer, as well as in modern Serbo-Croation oral poetry. One of the challenges in this analysis is the fact that these models have been based on the composer as an illiterate individual (Niditch 1995, 387). There are clear examples of metrical roots of many passges in the Bible. The question is whether these were oral composition or not. Niditch particular studied formula patterns in the prophets, trying to see what tools were in use (Niditch 1995, 388). Niditch concluded that the Hebrew Bible does not have enough examples to draw certain conclusions. However, she did observe that there are particular traditional ways of expressing particular ideas.

One of the challenges is the definition of poetry and the difference between poetry and prose. Niditch, with Kugel, thinks the distinction between prose and poetry is not absolutely clear (Niditch 1995, 389). Further, the distinction between oral composition and written composition is not always clear. There is an "oral register" which may not preclude written composition, at least partially written composition.

Niditch finds that the oral register appears in the Hebrew Bible through repetition, through formulaic patterns, and through recurring content patterns (Niditch 1995, 390). These are not necessarily compositional patterns, but they are consistent with a style rooted in oral composition and performance. Niditch, inspired by Foley, considers this style to signify deep cultural meanings and worldview, not to be a mere compositional tool (Niditch 1995, 391). For this reason, Niditch considers some of the oral elements and their possible ties to cultural meaning.

Purposeful repetition abounds in the Hebrew Bible. "Repetition is not a simple-minded stylistic device that allows an audience to follow a story that is heard rather than read or that provides a composer a quick way to create content without varying the vocabulary or that merely provides the syntax. Repetition is a means of emphasizing metonymically key messages and moods in a work of literature as in a musical composition" (Niditch 1995, 393). The repetition points to relationshiops, contrasts, and the overall view the author wishes us to have of the situation, as Niditch illustrates with several examples.

Formulas likewise suggest more complex meanings. Epithets, for example, point to an aspect of the individual character so as to emphasize it as it works in a particular setting (Niditch 1995, 395). Niditch illustrates this concept at some length tracing the epithets referring to bulls in the Old Testament. The God of Jacob is shown as the bull who is greater than the bull Baal, who serves as a fertility idol but has no real power. Longer formulas likewise emphasize certain aspects of the situation. Niditch identifies this in combinations of terms when a leader summons assistants including advisors. The central element may be the depiction of a context rather than simply a list of people called upon (Niditch 1995, 397).

Reference to a text or tradition is another area in which the oral register can become plain. For instance, a reference to "it was good" would naturally direct attention toward the creative work of God (Niditch 1995, 398). The greater story of a character or group may be alluded to through such references.

Patterns of content, including those underneath different recurring topoi, may also draw attention to particular issues. Niditch notes that this study is not unrelated to traditional form criticism. She discusses a number of different patterns which appear frequently in the Hebrew Bible (Niditch 1995, 401). The pattern of victory and enthronement is very common. These patterns may invite the reader to look forward to a condition of plenty as a result of God's salvation (Niditch 1995, 402). The use of these patterns can be a very effective tool as authors move reader/listener attention to important themes.

Textuality as a Hindrance to Meaning?

11/6/2020

Kelber, Werner H. "Language, Memory, and Sense Perception in the Religious and Technological Culture of Antiquity and the Middle Ages." Oral Tradition 10:2 (1995), 409-450.

Kelber observes that current studies of orality have exposed a mentality among scholars who consider communication and tradition in terms of literature, while ignoring oral elements.. On the contrary, the ideas of "text and intertextuality, author and tradition, reading and writing, memory and imagination, logic and cognition" are all related ot orality, when seen in their historic context (Kelber 1995, 410). For this reason, Kelber sets out to investigate the oral context of text traditions, particularly in religion and technology.

Kelber notes that Gorgias distinguished between pain and pleasure in the hearers who receive communication. It is the reception which governs the effectiveness of a presentation (Kelber 1995, 411). Kelber understand this is counterintuitive to some in the modern West. However, Gorgias sees the speech as effective not only due to its truth, but also due to its poetic power.

In a similar manner, Plato did not wish to have poets in the ideal state. In Republic 605-607 Plato speaks of the emotive reception of petic words as a womanly characteristic, as opposed to a manly type of strength. The drama of the presentation is considered powerful, even if the concept is not (Kelber 1995, 413).

Kelber does consider whether a literate mentality has distanced our thought processes from oral messages. Yet, regardless of that fact, Plato, who did typically consider literacy to hinder mental processes, did engage in writing. Yet he considered the power of poetic presentation of ideas to be much greater than that of written materials (Kelber 1995, 414). Interestingly enough, Kelber recognizes Plato as considering dialectic as a primarily verbal activity, and thus a powerful form or lotical and almost poetic persuasion (Kelber 1995, 415). Knowledge was sought after, but the most effective use of dialectic, in Plato, was not involved with the emotions, but "by thought itself" (Kelber 1995, 416).

Kelber notes that Plato's exclusion of senses from thought was contradictory to other ancient conceptions of knowledge (Kelber 1995, 416). What is more, Plato himself uses many metaphors of seeing. He appears not to be able to engage in thought without some sort of imagery. This is not unique to Plato in any way. Kelber illustrates the idea by the mytho of Mnemosyne, the mother of the Muses, who were literally the daughters of Memory. They always used sensible, verbal, auditory, and pictoral means to carry on their work (Kelber 1995, 417).

Aristotle also, in his Memory and Recollection, describes the use of images to enable us to think (Kelber 1995, 418). This is further illustrated in the classic works of rhetoricians, who speak of memory as a collection of images, which are ideally arranged and connected with one another.

Within Christian culture, the same pattern can be observed. Kelber, noting that Augustine was a "practicing rhetor and trained rhetorician" (Kelber 1995, 419) and that he spoke of the eloquence of the apostle Paul, whose argumentations were regularly very visual in nature. They do not pursue abstract truth, but truth as learned through dialectic and observed in real, concrete settings (Kelber 1995, 420). Above all, the rhetorical presentation is situational. "The casuistry of his rhetoric runs counter to theological and logical premises, prompting charges of inconsistency, even of intellectual inferiority. But rhetoric, not logic, is the key to Paul" (Kelber 1995, 421). The interaction is with the one idea or the one audience. The dialectical elements are governed by the rhetorical goal. Kebler sees this as an oral orientation. The goal of communication was tomotivate individuals toward a particular outcome, rather than to explore theoretical forms (Kelber 1995, 422).

Kelber observes that the first five centuries of the Christian era were full of debate, including debate about the proper use of rhetoric in Christian proclamation (Kelber 1995, 423). Some of the Fathers were trained rhetoricians. However, they did ask whether engaging in rhetoric would be contradictory to the gospel proclamation. An additional matter of controversy was the recognition of canonical Scripture, which effectively legitimized a written text as the rule of teaching and preaching (Kelber 1995, 424). This did not mean that memory was irrelevant. In fact, Augustine was a very strong proponent of the role of memory in the Christian life, even though he was also a prolific writer. Kelber cites reflections of Augustine which indicate he valued memory greatly, but would have to go beyond the power of memory and reflection to reach effective contemplation of God (Kelber 1995, 425).

In Augustine the distinction between classical oratory and the authority of Scripture proves to be very important. Kelber analyzes the idea of teaching in Augustine's De Doctrina Christiana. Augustine found an appropriate place for eloquence in Christian proclamation (Kelber 1995, 426). Yet, counter to classical rhetoricians, Augustine assigned authority to the Bible, not to the rhetoric used to explain it. The eloquence is, in some ways, irrelevant. What matters is the authority of the biblical text (Kelber 1995, 427). Kelber identifies this as a view of rhetoric appropriate to presentation of ideas, but a hermeneutic which is based on a specific text. The words of Scripture were signs of realities, but the signs bore an authority in themselves, and that authority was not to be violated (Kelber 1995, 428).

Kelber goes on to speak of a miniature from prior to 1000, depicting Gregory the Great interacting with a Bible but listening to the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove. Meanwhile a scribe is paying attentino to the interaction. Kelber understands this to suggest that the hermeneutic is something requiring divine inspiration, and that there is some sort of need for additional mediation before the scribe can understand what to write (Kelber 1995, 431). The oral symbolism is clear. Although manuscripts were becoming more important from the time of Gregory the Great to the time of the miniature, there was nothing anachronistic about the idea that truth would be expressed verbally and not entirely in the form of a text (Kelber 1995, 432). Reading was considered an oral process, not necessarily a reflective process. This continued throughout the Middle Ages (Kelber 1995, 433).

The use of Latin in sacred and philosophical texts may have contributed to a phenomenon of orality. Kelber observes that it was used as the primary scholarly language in the West for over a thousand years. The texts, read, re-read, and commented on through many generations, became part of a cultural and religious memory. It was easy, especially within Scholasticism, to reflect back upon the ancient rhetoricians and their consideration of memory as a collection of images. This is evident in Bernard of Clairvaux, among others (Kelber 1995, 435). Likewise, the scholastic collection and arrangement of ideas in different earlier voices bears a striking similarity to the rhetorical arrangement of the classical world. Kelber sees this as akin to dialectic, but slightly different from Plato's. In Plato's dialectic the goal was to have a discourse which would develop something. By the time of Thomas Aquinas' Summa Theologiae, the dialectic is "characterized by a nonemotional, stylized quality of thought and a severe asceticism of language" (Kelber 1995, 436). it is much more theoretical in nature than the dialectic of Plato. At the same time, memory, rather than serving primarily in a role as the governor of rhetoric, became the guarantor of ethics. "Thomas recommended it as a helpmate of prudence based on considerations of practical reason" (Kelber 1995, 438).

Kelber takes one further step to the thought of William of Ockham. Ockham "refused to admit that there was anything in the experienced world that corresponded to the universality of a concept" (Kelber 1995, 439). For this reason, demonstrating the being of God was extremely difficult. God could not be known from propositional truth, but must be known based on faith. Logical demonstration simply would not work. It could only point to some attributies of God, not to the entire person.

Ockham's emphasis on what was evident through propositional truth, took Christian doctrine to be based very strongly on the written word, something which was demonstrably in existence and remarkably stable (Kelber 1995, 441). The language was not intended to be interpreted emotionally, but logically. The linguistic sign is, however, merely a sign. It does not bear emotive force in itself. The scribal thought, most clearly articulated in early Christianity by Augustine, bore fruit in Ockham. The stage was set then for scriptural authority and the human cognitive abilities as an appropriate interpreter of the text (Kelber 1995, 443).

Kelber's conclusion is that memory, and rhetorical use of memory were broadly seen as arbiters of cognition in antiquity, and as a lasting concept until even the later part of the Middle Ages (Kelber 1995, 444). It is important to bear that in mind when we attempt to interpret ancient communications.

Sense Error or Emphasis?

10/23/2020

Russo, Joseph. "Homer's Style: Nonformulaic Features of an Oral Aesthetic." Oral Tradition 9:2 (1994), 371-389.

Russo observes that the Homeric epics use a particular dialect all their own. This differs significantly from what most members of a modern audience would expect. He further nots that audiences should also ask whether the Homeric works are genuine oral compositions (Russo 1994, 371). Russo's previous suggestions in the field have been based on finding an aural means of appreciating Homer (Russo 1994, 372). Looking for formulaic figures or linguistic features may not, however, be the most useful way of recognizing or appreciating Homer's style.

Rather than pusuing formulas or grammar, Russo sets out to describe trops used by Homer which give the works their flavor. This differs from identifying formulas in that it does not look at quotable content so much as at aesthetic presentation elements (Russo 1994, 373). These stylistic elements, which Russo sees as often consider "stylistic and narrative infelicities" (Russo 1994, 374) may actually be part of a purposeful style, part of Homer's aural toolbox.

Russo illustrates the stylistic features as found in Odyssey 4.363-90 (Russo 1994, 375ff). Here there are many examples of linguistic expansion, linking ideas together. Russo sees Homer as presenting some redundancy so as to avoid any abrupt expression (Russo 1994, 377). Other types of extension tropes are used throughout Homer's work. In review of other scholars, this writer has regularly seen such tropes identified as means by which the poetic meter can be maintained. However, Russo considers it as a means by which the character concept is enlarged through use of epithet (Russo 1994, 378). Likewise, when a sequence of events is reversed (e.g., having dressed after bathing), the setting or character is amplified (Russo 1994, 379-80). Antoehr means Russo identifies to this same end is ambiguity or grammatical oddity (Russo 1994, 381). This may well not be a matter of error or authorial weakness. Confusion in language may enhance the atmosphere of confusion expressed in the setting of the poem (Russo 1994, 382). The grammatical oddity creates a particular understanding in the reader or listener. This, according to Russo, may be very purposeful. It may also be closely connected to an oral process of composition (Russo 1994, 384).

Editing of texts of this nature, then, may well wish to preserve the apparent infelicities, not making an attempt to normalize the text (Russo 1994, 385). Russo advocates allowing the literature to exist in writing in a way parallel to the way it may have emerged from its oral composition.

What Did The Author Really Mean?

10/16/2020

Hymes, Dell. "Ethnopoetics, Oral-Formulaic Theory, and Editing Texts." Oral Tradition 9:2 (1994), 330-370.

The fields of oral-poetic theory and ethnopoetics approach challenges involving the meter and arrangement of lines, but from different perspectives (Hymes 1994, 330). Organization of lines, according to Hymes, is one of the likely definitions of poetry. There may also be organization within each line (Hymes 1994, 331). Hymes further expects to identify some sort of intonation which would show a pattern, rather than a more straightforward, step-y-step, progression. Of course, he observes, written traditions seldom indicate intonation (Hymes 1994, 332). Hymes looks for patterns of connectinon, which he describes as a "series of arcs" especially notable in poetry which is classified in groups of three uits (Hymes 1994, 332). Hymes illustrates the phenomenon, drawing on the analytical work of Nessa Wolfsom (Hymes 1994, 333 ff). Breaking the narrative into small sense units shows clear parallelism and arrangement. This is very like Chinook narratives transcribed by Sapir in 1909 (Hymes 1994, 335-337).

Hymes finds these same linguistic patterns in play in Alaskan societies and those of Native Americans in New Mexico (Hymes 1994, 338). The sense units not only group together, but they follow patterns in the number of units presented in different stanzas. Hymes finds a clear organizational pattern (Hymes 1994, 340). This suggests to him that it may be a natural means of mental organization.

Based on this concept, Hymes suggests that manuscript studies need to be re-evaluated. There may be elements of a narrative which have been ignored because scholars who did not recognize the structural elements considered some statements irrelevant (Hymes 1994, 342). Breaking of a regular pattern may also be evidence of a transcriptional error (Hymes 1994, 343). Hymes illustrates in his own work how a failure to recognize a small structural element can result in a misinterpretation of the importance of various statements.

Hymes sees a furtehr interpretive issue revealed in his process. There may be works with lines or statements missing, and which can be understood better by the ability to fill in gaps once a pattern has been identified (Hymes 1994, 350).

The questions arises, then, whether the editor of oral collections should place a higher value on the specific order and words of the narrator or possibly on the intention, once a pattern or structure can be identified (Hymes 1994, 352). The process of editorial review becomes even more important when we attempt to "repatriate" a text to its appropriate historic context (Hymes 1994, 353). Hymes finds a tension between the Native American value placed on the current spoken word and the value placed on bearing the message of ancestors. This becomes a matter of even greater difficulty when dealing with works from extinct languages (Hymes 1994, 354). There may be elements of word play and cultural allusion which could easily go undetected. Hymes illustrates the difficulties at length. He also notes (Hymes 1994, 358) that collections of oral material are rarely presented in any sort of chronological manner. Different versions of the same material may be collected at different times with no apparent rhyme or reason.

Hymes urges throught his article a careful approach to oral materials, inclduing those which could be classed as poetry. The skills of a philologicst may well be of more value than those of a collector or a collator.

Copying As A Creative Art Form

10/9/2020

Doane, A.N. “The Ehtnography of Scribal Writing and Anglo-Saxon Poetry: Scribe and Performer.” Oral Tradition 9:2 (1994), 420-439.

Doane observes that the work of a scribe in a society which treated speech as a matter of prime importance would include a strong perception of the performative aspects of communication. Doane ties this idea to the concept of “ethnopoetics,” which recognizes that texts transmit not only meaning, but, even through their structure, may provide insight into some non-linguistic elements of communication (Doane 1994, 420). In light of these ideas, Doane proposes “that the Anglo-Saxon scribe copying vernacular texts, and particularly vernacular poetic texts, is in many cases a special kind of speaking performer” (Doane 1994, 421). The difference, of course, is that the performance takes the form of writing. In effect, the scribe’s work is an exhibition of his virtuosity in communication, but through writing rather than speech (Doane 1994, 423).

One of the problems faced in a study of oral tradition is our tendency to assign a status of fixity to works which have been written down (Doane 1994, 424). This difficulty may be exacerbated in the case of Anglo-Saxon works, by the fact that we have very few manuscripts which preserve vernacular poetic texts as a substantial part of the work. Doane takes this to mean that Anglo-Saxon vernacular poetry was rare or, at least, that it was rarely codified in writing. Of particular interest, though, “a few poetic texts, amounting to several thousand lines, are preserved in two copies . . . never are these two-copy texts written in such a way that they could be said to be identical” (Doane 1994, 425). The variations seem to make sense, and the poems are clearly the same poems, but are worded differently. Doane also finds variation in the manuscript style. Spacing and various diacritical markings seem to indicate pace or tone. Doane illustrates the difference with a parallel text sample (Doane 1994, 426-427).

Doane suggests that a presentation of a text such as the Anglo-Saxon oral poetry may validly provide some manuscript-based interpretive guidance (Doane 1994, 429).

Doane theorizes that native AngloSaxon Christian scribes would typically be monks, conversant with Latin communication, but more attuned to the tone and behavior of communication in their native language (Doane 1994, 431). Because the texts were not liturgical texts, repeated frequently, a copy would depend more upon memory and a flexible manner of communication. Identification of a “correct” form could be difficult or even inconsequential (Doane 1994, 432).

Doane suggests that, since copies of poetry were made for use, rather than for preservation, it is quite possible that the scribes “always varied the text, as if the mere copying of a text was bad form, or empty form” (Doane 1994, 434). This is consistent with the view of copying as a sort of performance. In like manner, Doane expects the actual oral work to have developed over time until it was codified in writing (Doane 1994, 435).

Shepherd Songs Cross Over to Literary Works

10/2/2020

Pearce, James B. “Theocritus and Oral Tradition” Oral Tradition 8:1 (1993), 59-86.

Pearce describes Theocritus as a clear example of the characteristic Alexandrian style of the 3rd century B.C., dedicated to innovation. A matter of scholarly interest is how his Idylls cam to be written, as they seem a mature example of a new form not known to have existed before (Pearce 1993, 60). One possible explanation is that they are an adaptation of oral forms typical of folk songs. Pearce considers it a given that Theocritus wants us to accept his work as adapted from music of shepherds, since he puts the songs into their mouths. However, Pearce also finds a considerable level of literary sophistication in the works (Pearce 1993, 61).

Theocritus wrote the Idylls in a Doric dialect, which was his native dialect but which also happens to be the one commonly used in the non-literary agrarian areas of the world (Pearce 1993, 62). The literary sophistication is made more evident by the occasional use of Homeric dialectic elements, which would not be native to the shepherds.

Pearce considers the history of meter and dialect. He recognizes that the shepherds were likely to know the work of rhapsodes, who would have recited various types of poetry, including Homer. This could cause the hearers to associate oral poetry with hexameter and to adopt some of the Homeric forms (Pearce 1993, 63). Pearce continues by describing “amoebean” songs, in which a lead singer would start a piece, then others would respond with improvised reactions. This form shows up in Theocritus and continues to be used today (Pearce 1993, 64).

The contests in which such singing would take place are depicted in the Idylls as arising from occasions of music making during slow times in the bucolic life. Shepherds would naturally perform and engage in competition with one another (Pearce 1993, 65).

Pearce theorizes that the motifs used in Theocritus are borrowed from oral poetry (Pearce 1993, 66). To analyze this thesis, he studies several different Idylls, looking at repeated motifs. First, he identifies allusions to “rustic gifts,” providing the Greek text and an English translation of the passages (Pearce 1993, 66ff). He then moves on to nymphs, as “the divine essence of various things in nature” (Pearce 1993, 71). Of course, Pan, as the patron god of shepherds makes appearances (Pearce 1993, 74). Pearce notes that many of the allusions made in regard to Pan are relatively obscure (Idyll 7) (Pearce 1993, 75). Much of the time the emphasis is on his use of pipes. This leads Pearce to consider allusions to the music found in nature (Pearce 1993, 77ff). As they themselves are immersed in this world of music, the theme of shepherds playing pipes is very important (Pearce 1993, 80ff), as well as that of shepherds who sing (Pearce 1993, 82ff).

The illustrations used by Pearce show that Theocritus’ work was influenced, probably to a large extent, by motifs common to the bucolic life. Though his poetry is highly literary, it also draws on many elements of a rural orality (Pearce 1993, 85).

How To Do Orality In Print

9/25/2020

Montenyohl, Eric L. “Strategies for the Presentation of Oral Traditions in Print.” Oral Tradition 8:1 (1993), 159-186.

Montenyohl observes that “literature” is increasingly recognized as including oral works. For this reason, it is appropriate to consider the variety of contexts in which performance would take place, as well as the context which led to the composition in the first place (Montenyohl 1993, 159). Montenyohl observes that scholars are increasingly involved in many of the contextual issues but have remained relatively unengaged in the mode of presentation of oral material (Montenyohl 1993, 160). Since the work of the Grimms began to be released in 1812, presentation has remained relatively static, with prefatory material, the text in question, then scholarly notes. This has continued to be the pattern at least until about 1980 (Montenyohl 1993, 161).

Montenyohl considers this mode of presentation to be inadequate. First, it creates a sharp distinction between the source and the scholar (Montenyohl 1993, 162). The oral tradition may appear to be an exotic specimen as opposed to an organic and environmental expression of culture. Second, presenting these specimens in a particular arrangement of categories imposes a formalism which is highly unlikely to have existed in the native context (Montenyohl 1993, 163). Finally, removing the material from its oral context limits the way the audience can interpret it (Montenyohl 1993, 164).

Since the mid 1960s Montenyohl finds scholarship which attempts to consider oral contexts (Montenyohl 1993, 165). There has been a greater recognition of the practice of performing oral materials. However, innovations in presenting them in print hae not been very common. Montenyohl notes attempts by Dennis Tedlock (Montenyohl 1993, 165) and Elizabeth Fine (Montenyohl 1993, 166) to make the print expression of verbal traditions resemble the orality more closely. Unfortunately, such representations are normally presented in very intricate detail and are not adequate to replicate the “original” version, not to mention the distinctions among different performers and performances. Montenyohl proides examples of these attempts (Montenyohl 1993, 167ff). They clearly present challenges in reading and interpretation. Montenyohl then observes that, in a real way, these attempts still fall into the pattern of a scholarly introduction, sample works, and a commentary of how to understand the text (Montenyohl 1993, 174).

Because of the difficulty inherent in adequate notation of oral events, Montenyohl admits little progress has been made. However, some oral forms - such as epic, ballad, sage, folktale - can most easily stand alone and engage the reading audience in the story” (Montenyohl 1993, 175). This approach still has drawbacks, so Montenyohl suggests another approach, where a scholar who can enter into the culture presents the oral material in the form of a personal story (Montenyohl 1993, 176). He suggests this can be done in writing, by encapsulating the oral material within a written narrative. Pages 177-178 contain two examples of attempts to do this.

Montenyohl considers the purpose of different narratives, as well as the culture that can lead to various types of stories. He concludes that orality and literacy are not related to intelligence or to education but that many oral expressions are used for multiple purposes such as creating bonds, explaining differences, and expressing care (Montenyohl 1993, 180). Because of the intricacy and complexity of the communication, Montenyohl suggests that gathering material requires extended periods of time in a community so as to understand context. The communication in writing, then, becomes more akin to a performance itself (Montenyohl 1993, 181).

A bibliography concludes the article (Montenyohl 1993, 182-186).

Indicators of Early Composition

8/28/2020

Piper, Otto A. “1 John and the Didache of the Primitive Church” Journal of Biblical Literature 66 (1947), 437-451.

Piper observes a “peculiarity” of 1 John in which the author refers to truth claims which are held by himself and his readers. The practicality of the Christian faith is taken as an authoritative reality (Piper 1947, 437). Piper details ways in which these references are introduced. He then discusses these beliefs which are considered to be held in common, categorizing them in five groups.

First, Peper lists the credal statements (Piper 1947, 438-439). He makes no significant comments, rather he simply provides the Greek text and reference. He then moves to theological axioms (Piper 1947, 439). These are followed by eschatological prophecies and convictions. Pe\iper notes that these would be like the theological axioms but have a stronger implication of personal piety (Piper 1947, 439). There follow moral commandments and ecclesiastical rules (Piper 1947, 440).

Piper makes it clear that many of hte propositions are introduced as things which the reader has heart. He also notes that there is no reference to written authority but that 2:27 referst o Jesus’ teaching. In his opinion this “may be taken as an indirect confirmation of the fact that we are here in the presence of oral tradition” (Piper 1947, 440). He strengthens this case by noting passages in which various authorities express identical ideas while using different verbal devices. This enhances a concept of orality rather than literary transmission. Piper lists numerous passages in which parallel ideas are expressed in very different words (Piper 1947, 441).

A good deal of the difference Piper observes in these passages of parallel idea but divergent language usage can be explained by regional and dialectical differences. People with different backgrounds express themselves differently (Piper 1947, 443). Piper speaks at some length about Semitisms, such as the unusual use of λύειν meaning “to nullify” (Piper 1947, 443-444).

Piper not only sees the text of 1 John as indicating the oral traditions of the day, but he also considers the vocabulary usage as an indication of an early date. Theological terms which were later associated with the ideas in the Epistle are not used consistently. This suggests the terminological development was still under way (Piper 1947, 445).

Piper analyzes Bultmann’s criticism of the Epistle in some detail. In sum, Piper considers Bultmann to make stylistic differences bear too much significance in terms of analysis of form and redaction (Piper 1947, 448-449).

Piper’s overall conclusion is that 1 John represents an early state of the development of Christian doctrine. The terminology has not yet become stable and much of the work seems to assume a Christian life based largely on obedience to practical rules (Piper 1947, 450).