Taking the Heat in Struggle Over Biblical Poetry

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James Kugel writes as a historian of scholarship and as one who practices historical criticism. Robert Alter writes as a literary critic and an analyst of individual biblical poems. Kugel’s book is a trailblazer, clearing the brush of centuries of scholarship in order to move more readily into an analysis of the poetry of the Hebrew Bible. Alter’s book takes us beyond the pathways Kugel has blazed and invites us to reflect, under Alter’s skillful tutelage, on the different kinds of fauna and flora in the meadows and still waters to which Kugel’s insights have led us.

The two books are very different in purpose, focus and scope. Alter brings fresh insights and does not simply repeat Kugel’s insights. Coming second in time as he does, Alter refines and advances some of Kugel’s observations and fleshes them out. Both scholars have instructed us.

I vividly remember sitting, more than three decades ago, in the dimly lit library of New College in Edinburgh, Scotland, reading—in Vetus Testamentum, I believe—harsh words by an exceedingly eminent Swedish scholar about another exceedingly eminent Swedish scholar. I felt shock and embarrassment. So heated were the words, and so uncalled for, I thought to myself, that the reader of the pages needed asbestos gloves to handle them. I had a similar reaction when I read Professor Kugel’s review of Professor Alter’s book. Kugel’s charges were excessive, I believe. The words hurt—and not only Professor Alter, but Professor Kugel as well. It is sad when two eminent and able scholars, each with significant gifts and insights, fall into such controversy.

The two protagonists—1 prefer to call them that, rather than antagonists, even though, sadly, they have become that—have, each in different ways, declared that the essence of Hebrew poetry lies in a particular kind of parallelism. Both argue that the second line (or second half) of the verse carries the first line (or first half of the verse) forward or extends it by means of intensification, focus or the addition of some new thought or idea. Kugel calls the first line “A” and the second line “B.” As he puts it: “A, what is more B.” Alter prefers the notion of focusing and intensification in the second line.

In the light of the history of the study of Hebrew poetry in this century, there is a real irony in the recent emphasis by Kugel and Alter. In 1925 George Buchanan Gray, in a book entitled The Forms of Hebrew Poetry, rejected the idea that the simple term “parallelism” or “synthetic parallelism” could rightly be applied when the second line carried forward or extended the thought or idea of the first. In the interest of precision (and perhaps slightly pejoratively), Gray called such “parallelism” (in which the second line does not fully match the thought of the first, but extends it) “incomplete parallelism with compensation.” A suggested diagram for such is abc/a’dc’. For him; the widely accepted term “synthetic parallelism” was incongruous, a contradiction in terms. How can one properly speak of parallelism when the second line projects forward the thought or expression contained in the first line?

Synthetic parallelism was consequently pronounced dead.

In 1972, in an important study in Dictionnaire de la Bible, Supplement, Père Alonso Schökel registered hearty agreement with Gray’s findings. If Gray pronounced “synthetic parallelism” dead, Alonso Schökel buried it. Few noted or lamented the loss.

What Gray and Alonso Schökel confined to the pit, Kugel and Alter have resurrected. Synthetic parallelism lives after all! There may be some 031exaggeration in this, but not much. The parallelism that Kugel and Alter seek to bury—or at least to vastly reduce in stature—is “synonymous parallelism,” that is, parallelism in which the second line of the verse simply restates the first. Traditionally scholars have diagrammed this abc/a’b’c’. This synonymous parallelism is, according to Kugel and Alter, a rare bird. If we fail to recognize this, we may easily miss what is added by the second half of the verse, thinking it simply a restatement.

Thus, in his analysis of the poem in 2 Samuel 22 (which is repeated with variations as Psalm 18), Alter identifies only six out of 53 verses as containing synonymous parallels. Here, for example, is one:

“The snares of the Pit encircled me,

the traps of death sprung on me.”

2 Samuel 22:6

Because the second line does not focus, heighten, intensify or further concretize the meaning of the first line, Alter here rightly prefers to regard the semantic parallelism of this verse an an instance of “synonymity.”

On the other hand, in 19 verses of this poem, Alter finds a focusing or intensification in the second half of the verse. Here are two examples:

“My stronghold and my refuge,

my savior, who saves me from havoc.”

verse 3b

“I crushed them like the dust of the earth,

like street mud, I ground them, trampled them.”

verse 43

In the first of these two examples, Alter identifies the second line as an instance of “verbal development,” and in both examples the second line further specifies and concretizes by what he calls “incremental repetition.”

And in 17 verses of the poem, Alter found an extension or consequence in the second half of the verse that followed upon the action statement of the first half of the verse. For example:

“Praised I called the Lord,

and from my enemies I was saved.”

verse 4

Here Alter observes: “The relation between the two statements is one of both narrative sequence and cause and effect.

Kugel’s study leads to similar conclusions: rarely in Hebrew poetry is the second half of the verse in simple synonymity with the first half; in his terms, B adds something which is not found in A.

In short, it is synonymous parallelism that is now in the intensive care unit.

Both Alter and Kugel have thus taught us that the way we have been analyzing Hebrew poetry for the past half century leaves much to be desired. The very term synonymous parallelism caused us to overlook the intensification, the advancement, the focusing that takes place in the B part or second half of the pair. This new way of looking at biblical verse constitutes a major and of important contribution by Kugel and Alter.

It might be worth mentioning here another significant recent contribution to our understanding of biblical poetry. In the same year that Alter’s book appeared (1985), Adele Berlin published a book entitled The Dynamics of Biblical Parallelism, in which she examines primarily three different the types of parallelism:

(1) grammatical—including both morphologic (similarity in forms) and syntactic (similarity in syntax);

(2) lexical and semantic—fixed word pairs and parallels in the meaning of words;

(3) phonologic—words with similar sounds (sound pairs).

In a forthcoming article in the revised edition 032of the Jerome Biblical Commentary, Aloysius Fitzgerald suggests a fourth type of parallelism:

(4) metric—where the second half of the verse duplicates the meter of the first.

Semantic parallelism can without much difficulty be preserved in translation. So the reader of psalms in English can appreciate semantic parallelism—including the focusing, addition, extension or intensification that both Alter and Kugel identify as part of this semantic parallelism—even without a knowledge of Hebrew.

To some extent, grammatical parallelism can also be preserved in translation. For example:

“The one who walks with integrity walks securely,

but the one who makes crooked his ways will become known.”

Proverbs 10:9

Even in translation it is apparent that the phrases in italics (which are single words in Hebrew) are the same in grammatical construction (both are participles in the original).

But we can truly appreciate the third and fourth types of parallelism only in the original Hebrew.

Roughly one-third of the Hebrew Bible is written in poetry. Poetry is interspersed throughout the Pentateuch (in ancient songs) and predominates in the Psalms, in the prophets and in the wisdom books of Proverbs and Job. Appreciating the poetic qualities that cannot be captured in translation enormously enhances your pleasure, especially when you can catch something of the intellectual and verbal play that engaged the original audience. It is unfortunately true that the joy of reading Hebrew poetry will vary directly in proportion to the reader’s facility in Hebrew. Reading in translation can be, and ought to be, a joy. But there are limits, and we clearly reach them in identifying and appreciating the third and fourth types of parallelism mentioned above.

Even though readers without a knowledge of Hebrew will have difficulty appreciating metrical parallelism, a bit more needs to be said about it: It is the subject of considerable scholarly controversy.

Scholars are expressing increasing reservations about metrical parallelism in Hebrew poetry—Kugel and Alter among them. Both Kugel and Alter question the extent to which it is possible to retrieve the meter of biblical Hebrew. In this they follow in a long line of scholarship. One study found that biblical Hebrew poetry was much freer in its rhythms and accents than medieval Hebrew poetry.¹ Another study concludes that there is enough repetition of word and syllable counts in parallel passages to speak of “a syntactically regulated verse system,” even though the presence of true meter in Hebrew poetry is very doubtful.² Scholars have used different terms to express this regularity or parallelism, although they would not use the term “meter.” They point to “balance” (Adele Berlin), “the measured and measurable character of Hebrew poetry” (Aloysius Fitzgerald^a), “Hebrew verse system” (Michael O’Connor) or “free rhythm” (Benjamin Hrushovski).

Perhaps we should refer to rhythmic parallelism as a substitute or addition to metrical parallelism.

Kugel helps us to distinguish between rhythm and meter in a discussion of ancient rhetoric. He quotes from Quintilian’s Institutes of Oratory (9.4):

“Rhythmus, that is numerus, consists of lengths of time; meter, besides length, requires the time to be in a certain order.”

In simpler terms we can say that in rhythm there is a beat and recurring pattern of sound and accents, but the pattern does not recur in an invariable order. The consensus of scholars clearly seems to be moving in the direction of affirming that biblical poetry is characterized by rhythm but not by meter.³

Interestingly, both Kugel and Alter have neglected two important characteristics of Hebrew poetry. The first is the presence of recurring patterns in similar types of poems. Perhaps they neglect this because there is such widespread scholarly agreement about it, but it is certainly worth mentioning here. In a particular type or form of poem (a genre), we often find a similar overall pattern. For example, nearly half of the psalms in the Hebrew psalter are psalms of lamentation. They follow this well-known pattern or progression of thought:

(1) direct address to God;

(2) listing of the psalmist’s source of complaint;

(3) description of his plight (sometimes including description of the activity of his enemies);

(4) petition that he be heard;

(5) citation of reasons why he should be heard;

(6) assurance that somehow his prayer has been or will be heard;

(7) promise or a vow.

In Psalm 13, below, I have marked in the left margin the seven points at which this pattern appears.

A general pattern of recurring themes can also be observed in psalms of thanksgiving and in psalmic hymns.

Both Alter and Kugel also fail to give adequate attention to the larger units of verse commonly called strophes or stanzas. It is true that not all biblical poems contain clear clues as to their larger, strophic structure. But there are in many biblical poems a number of indicators that provide clues as to the larger units the poet had in mind. For example, in the psalms, the enigmatic musical term Selah points to the probable sense divisions (see, for example, Psalm 89). Sometimes refrains mark off the major sense divisions (see Psalms 42–43 and Job 28). In other psalms, a shift in the kind of parallelism marks the division between strophes or stanzas. (See the shift between verses 5 and 6 in Psalm 103, which makes it plain that a division should be posted precisely between these verses. Verses 2b–5 are characterized by a parallelism in which the second half of the verse advances the thought of the first half verses 6–10, by contrast, are characterized by synonymous parallelism.) A change in subject matter can also indicate that a new strophe or stanza probably begins (see verse 19 in Psalm 103). Sometimes the use of what scholars call an inclusio (English “inclusion”) or catch word marks the opening and ending of a strophe. For example, in Lamentations 2 the catchword “ground” or “earth” (eretz) in verse 1 and verse 10 marks the beginning and the end of the strophe.

The determination of strophes is not always easy or exact. It is worth searching for clues, however, to help us subdivide the text.

Despite these omissions, both Kugel and Alter have made a significant contribution to our understanding of Hebrew poetry. Kugel’s approach beings him into more intimate discourse with the history of biblical scholarship; Alter’s approach brings him into more intimate discourse with the vocabulary and technique of the critics of comparative literature.

Kugel finds parallelism so pervasive in the Hebrew Bible that he is led to conclude that the difference between Hebrew prose and poetry is not marked by a clear line. Poetry and prose are, as the scholars say, continuous. Because parallelism is so often found even in what we customarily regard as prose, we must think of the difference between poetry and prose as a continuum. I found Kugel’s scansion and analysis of Exodus 2:1–7, as if it were poetry (though most exegetes would certainly consider it prose), to be brilliant and persuasive. Some prose approximates poetry to a remarkable degree.

Alter disagrees with Kugel’s “continuum” theory. I also found Alter’s analysis to be brilliant and persuasive, especially his demarcation and analysis of the poetry and parallelism in the curse of Lamech in Genesis 4:23–24. The two positions, however, are not as far apart as they may seem at first. In a continuum of light refracted through a prism, the colors form one spectrum, but we can easily discern the difference between red, yellow, green, blue and purple. So it is with the differences between poetry and prose in the Bible—or, more accurately, between different kinds of poetry and prose. Kugel’s point remains valid: some prose closely approaches poetry, especially when it is terse and measured or rhythmic. On the other hand, I agree with Alter that clear markers distinguish poetry from prose.

To continue to expand our appreciation of Hebrew poetry, we need both the historical critic and the critic of comparative literature. We need both Kugel and Alter. Kugel reminds us that there are many lessons to be learned from a perusal of the works of the scholars of the past. Alter teaches us that there is no substitute for careful analysis that draws on all the tools of literary criticism.

James Kugel writes as a historian of scholarship and as one who practices historical criticism. Robert Alter writes as a literary critic and an analyst of individual biblical poems. Kugel’s book is a trailblazer, clearing the brush of centuries of scholarship in order to move more readily into an analysis of the poetry of the Hebrew Bible. Alter’s book takes us beyond the pathways Kugel has blazed and invites us to reflect, under Alter’s skillful tutelage, on the different kinds of fauna and flora in the meadows and still waters to which Kugel’s insights have led us. The two […]