EAJT / 4:2/86
Problems in Analysing Hebrew Poetry
T David Andersen
Introduction
'Poetry' and 'prose' are categories which are normally used to distinguish
the two main types of discourse in language. But there is some debate whether
this division is helpful and valid when applied to the discourse of the Hebrew
Bible. Whereas most scholars accept the validity of the two categories, Kugel (1981)
has argued forcefully that the category of poetry is a misleading imposition of
a foreign concept when applied to the biblical materials. He argues that what
has been called 'poetry' is better seen as a widely varying complex of rhetorical
features which elevate the style, but which are also present to a lesser degree in
prose. Unlike classical European poetry, there is no rhyme, alliteration or regular
meter sharply to distinguish poetry from prose. Rather there is a continuum between more loosely organised discourse with few heightening features and more
elevated discourse with an increasing number of heightening features such as
parallelism and terseness (Kugel, p. 85).
In contrast to this Freedman---ct980:2) argues that poetry is well delimited by
its differences from prose. He admits that there is overlap and that the distinction
is often one of degree rather than kind, but he asserts that prose and poetry are
basically two different ways of using language. This suggests a functional difference, not just a formal difference. Indeed Freedman goes on to say (p. 16) that
in contrast to prose "only poetry can convey the mystery of the miraculous and
its meaning for those present." From a different perspective Lawth (Lectures 14
- 17) highlighted 'sublimity' as a key characteristic distinguishing poetry from
prose. Such aesthetic and theological aspects are difficult to pin down precisely
however, and are beyond the scope of this paper. In order to evaluate Kugel's argument and the issues it raises we need to do a survey of the various formal features
which have been used to distinguish Hebrew poetry from prose.
Formal features can be divided into two: linguistic form and form of presentation. The latter can be more decisive than the former in causing the classification of a piece of discourse as poetry. In written language a poem is presented
set out in lines. So in English a piece of discourse which does not have any of
the usual linguistic formal features of a poem (rhyme, meter, etc.) can still be accepted as a poem if it is presented in stichographic form. In oral language presentation as a song is usually an indication that the discourse is poetry. And il1deed
these two criteria were the crucial ones for the first division of the Hebrew Bible
into prose and poetry. The psalms are clearly songs and some Psalms scrolls from
Qumran use a stichographic arrangement; others do not (Kugel: 119). According
to the Talmud "all the songs" were to be written with special spacing (Kugel:
122): This included the Song of Moses (Deut. 32), the Song of the Sea (Ex. 15)
and the Song of Deborah (Jdg. 5). Also the books of Psalms, Proverbs and Job
had a Massoretic accentual system distinction from the other books and they were
written with a special spacing system by Jewish scribes in the Middle Ages. This
*T David Anderson is a lecturer at the Language Institute of Thammasat University in Bangkok
68
EAJT / 4:2186
was occasionally extended to Lamentations. This made up the corpus of material
traditionally thought to be poetic.
Lowth was instrumental in expanding the corpus to include much of the prophetic writings. He cited their poetic diction, dialect, and the artificial conformation of the sentences, of which parallelism was the parade example, as being
arguments showing these writings to be poetic (Lect. 18). Lowth also regarded
the meter to be a necessary element of the poetry but he regarded it as irretrievably
lost.
Gray (p. 236) considered Hebrew poetry to be based on two main forms parallelism and rhythm - with the former particularly important. The strophe
represented an occasional element. This view forins the foundation of most modern
scholarship in this area. Gordis disagrees that parallelism should be assigned a
more fundamental role than meter (1978:501), but he concurs that strophes are
not a fundamental feature (p. 505). Geller (1979:366) reckons that among the many
devices used by the Hebrew poet, meter, semailtic parallelism and grammatical
parallelism were the most important. For these scholars, the meter was based on
the number of stresses per line. Cross and Freedman (1975:185) think too much
emphasis has been put on stress-based meter and are of the opinion that syllable
counting is a better measure of the balance of lines and stanzas. Freedman also
uses the proportion of 'prose particles' (,aser, ha-and 'et) as an index of the
poeticality of a passage. (1980:2). Watson, rather than focussing on just a few
decisive features, gives a list of 19 criteria to distinguish poetry from prose (1984:
46f). The ones he gives the most weight to are: presence of established line-forms,
ellipsis (especially verb gapping), meter, persistent parallelism, gender-matched
parallelism, word-pairs, chiastic patterns, break-up of stereo-type phrases, tricolon
and absence of prose particles.
O'Connor has worked out the most detailed theory of the systematic constraints which determine the structure of Hebrew poetry. Like Kugel, he rejects
the applicability of a metrical scheme to Hebrew (p. 65). He also objects to the
vagueness and inconsistency of the concept of parallelism (p. 50, 88f). His analysis
uses a system of syntactic constraints to replace the metrical cdmponent of traditional analyses. He replaces parallelism with a set of six 'tropes' which bind lines
together. His approach is hence quite distinct from that of most other modern
scholars and needs to be evaluated separately.
This paper will examine and evaluate the significance of meter and parallelism
at some length and also look more briefly at the features of prose particles,
acrostics and strophic structure.
Meter
Scholars' views on meter in Hebrew poetry can be classed into various groups.
First there are those who think that there is no meter detectable in Hebrew poetry.
These include Lowth, O'Connor and Kugel. Lowth thought that there was a meter
but that it was undetectable because the rhythm and mode of scanning is irretrievably lost (Lect. 3). O'Connor thinks that Hebrew uses a non-metrical poetry
based on syntactic constraints. Kugel thinks there is no meter at all, and this is
one reason why the term 'poetry' has oniyapproximate validity for Hebrew.
Secondly there are scholars who have proposed a system of regular meter
for Hebrew. One of these is Sievers Who published a work on this subject in 1893
(~e~ discussion in Gray: 143f, Kugel: 293f). Sievers claimed that Hebrew rhythm
rested on an anapestic basis - two unstressed syllables followed by a stress. He
69
EAJT/4:2I86
also allowed for variations in the exact number of unstressed syllables which went
with a stressed syllable. Using this quite flexible approach he was not only able
to scan the traditional 'poetic' books but also others such as Genesis and Samuel.
The more recent system of Brunei (See Kugel: 76; Gordis: 516) has similar wide
applicability. Such systems do not illuminate any distinctive features of poetry.
Segert (1969, cited in Watson, 1982: 103) proposes a system based on alternation of stressed and unstressed syllables, with a sequence of two unstressed syllables
being excluded. This was derived by a comparison with late Aramaic and Syriac
poetry. However it necessitates a hypothetical revocalisation of the Massoretic text
in order to make the data fit the theory.
Because of the difficulty of devising a system which fits the data but is not
so flexible to obliterate the sought for distinction between prose and poetry, many
scholars advocate a system of variable meter. The most popular is that based on
the number of stressed beats per line. Bicolons can then be classified according
to their stress pattern and dominant patterns identified. Gray (p. 132) distinguishes
between two basic types: balancing rhythm, in which each colon has the same
number of beats, and echoing rhythm, in wh~h the second colon has fewer beats
than the first. The former are exemplified My patterns 3:3, 2:2, 4:4, whereas the
typical example of the latter is 3:2. Less common are 4:3 and 4:2 (p. 168f). Gray
also accepts 2:3 and 3:4 patterns as extremely rare possibilities. Tricolons are similarly analysed.
There is debate as to how these building blocks are combined to construct
a poem. Budde suggested that the 3:2 pattern was characteristic of laments such
as Lamentations and hence labelled the pattern qinah (Kugel: 293). But this is
a dubious label, as Gordis points out (p. 503) because the same pattern can be
found elsewhere such as in love poetry and religious hymns, whereas there are
other laments which do not have this pattern. Another question is as to how much
one poem is.dominated by one metric pattern. Many studies have attempted to
show how particular poems can be scanned using a regular pattern. For example,
Cross and Freedman (1975: 12f) analyse all the bicolons of the Song of Deborah
as being 3:3 or 2:2 with the 2:2 patterns always clustering together. In the Song
of Miriam (p. 50f) all the bicolons are 2:2 except for five 3:3 bicolons occurring
at regular intervals in the poem. In the Blessing of Jacob (p. 72f) and 11 Sam.
22 (p. 133f) all the colons have 3 beats except for one section of four 2-beat colons. Similarly the Blessing of Moses (p. 99) has only three 2:2 bicolons; the rest
are 3:3 or 3:3:3. However these impressive results of metric regularity are only
gained at the cost of numerous emendations of the text metri causa. In addition,
some verses which do not exhibit a continuous pattern, such as vv. 4-16 of the
Song of Deborah and vv. 4-5 of the Blessing of Moses, are simply omitted from
the analysis. Many other examples of this sort of approach could be given.
A more moderate approach is illustrated by Gordis. He regards it
methodologically unsound to emend solely on metric grounds (1978:505). But in
order to get a more regular metric pattern he justifies variable rules for stress
assignment (p. 502). Whereas the basic rule is one stress per word, he also allows
a group of several words to receive only one stress or one word to have two stresses.
Words like ki or 10' mayor may not have stress depending on the demands of
the meter. By these means the dialogue in Job 1 is shown to be almost consistently4-beat or 2-beatbicolons and tricolons. In Job 3thepattern obtained is a blend
of 4:4(:4} and 3:3(:3) until v. 19 where the pattern becomes mixed with 4:3
dominating. Gordis is more prescriptive than Gray with regard to the allowable
70
EAJT / 4:2/86
metric patterns. He asserts that biblical rhythm is either balanced or echoing so
he regards patterns with the second colon longer than the first (2:3 and 3:4) as
virtually non-existent and endeavours to re-analyse examples which have been cited.
In contrast, Geller lists 2:2, 3:3 and 4:4 as the most common types but also accepts 3:2, 4:2, 2:3, 4:3, 2:4, 3:4 and 4:5. Watson (p. 98) has a similar list.
Geller also has a variable system for stress assignment especially with regard
to what he calls 'anceps' elements - typically particles. If a poem has a fixed
metric pattern he can assign stress to bicolons with an ambiguous pattern in such
a way as to make them fit the dominant pattern. But if the poem has a mixed
metrical pattern, it is difficult for him to decide on the analysis of ambiguous
bicolons (p. 10-11).
In contrast to this, Watson is not concerned to impose a regular meter on
Hebrew poems. He maintains there is meter, but not regular meter, since metrical
patterns are never maintained for more than a few verses at a stretch, if even that
(p. 92). There is no single poem which is consistently written in one meter (p.
98). Hence Watson is able to stick to a reasonably consistent system for assigning
stresses (p. 1000 and does not appeal to subjective variability to make more regular
patterns.
What are the implications of these varying approaches? Systematic emendation to achieve regular meter is the most dubious methodologically (see Kugel's
denunciation, p. 296-297). As for variable stress assignment rules, these are quite
valid on the condition that the presence of a fixed metric pattern has been clearly
established. But in the case of Hebrew poetry, there are so many poems which
have very mixed meter that it may well be that such irregularity is the norm and
hence there is no clear justification for attempting to make a somewhat regular
poem even more regular by schemes of stress assignment. The view that an analysis
which shows more metric regularity is, better than one that shows less rests on
the unproved assumption that complete or substantial metric regularity was the
poetic ideal.
On the other hand, if we accept an irregular meter as Watson does, this raises
questions as to how to distinguish poetry from prose. Is there any difference between the irregular meter of poetry and the irregular meter of prose? In order to
evaluate this we should consider the relationship between the meter of verse and
the meter of natural speech. Natural speech in all language is highly rhythmic;
it tends to have a regular beat (Halliday, 1985:271). Halliday (1985:1-18,271-274)
has an insightful discussion of this question mainly in relation to English. He
shows that the classical metric analysis of English, which was based on Latin and
Greek systems, does not adequately describe the rhythmic structure. He proposes
a 'phonometric' analysis which is based on a descending foot (with the beat at
the beginning of the foot) (p. 272) which are always in multiples of two (p. 12).
This corresponds with physio-Iogical measurements of how English is pronounced in terms of air pressure pulses (p. 272). Such an analysis can predict and explain the patern of silent beats in natural speech or verse - they occur to fill
up the pattern of binary feet (p. 12). The main difference between English verse
and n~tural speech is not the rhythm (which is similar) but rather that the number
of syllables per foot is regulated in verse (p. 13). .
How could such an analysis be applicable to Hebrew? Hebrew is regarded
by most scholars to be a language with rhythm based on stress-timing (like English)
rather than on syllable timing. Thus even advocates of syllable counting such as
Freedman and Culley do not propose that Hebrew had a syllabic meter in the
71
EAJT / 4:2186
strict sense of the word (O'Connor p. 38). Rather they use it as a way to measure
relative balance of lines and to complement the counting of stresses. Note though
Freedman's unexplained remark (1980:30) that Hebrew may not have had stresses
in the commonly assumed sense at all in the early period. Stuart has put forward
a full-fledged theory of syllabic meter for Hebrew poetry, but O'Connor argues
that it is contradictory from the viewpoint of metric theory (p. 35-37). Assuming
therefore that stress is the basis of rhythm in Hebrew what can we say about the
rhythm in prose as opposed to poetry? An analysis such as that of Sievers, which
found an ascending foot (e.g. anapestic) to be the basis of Hebrew meter, can
be seen as describing the rhythmic structure of the language as a whole, rather
than being a structural principle of poetry. This would/ccord with Gary's suggestion (p. 150) that this is a corollary of the tendency of stress to fall on the
last syllable of words in Hebrew. Similarly perhaps the descending foot in English
would be a corollary of the tendency for stress to fall towards the beginning of
words. Once we regard meter from the perspective of the language as a whole,
it becomes a question of measuring stress patterns in all kinds of discourse. Only
if a comprehensive study is done of stress patterns in all types of discourse, using
consistent stress assignment rules, can we discover to what extent some types of
discourse, such as poetry, use marked stress patterns which contrast with other
discourse types. But the fact that systems such as those of Sievers and Bruno worked for both poetry and prose, as well as the widely attested irregularity of rhythmic
patterns in poetry, indicates that Hebrew poetry does not have a sharply distinctive rhythmic system.
Kugel (p. 301) and O'Connor (p. 138) both deny that there is any meter in
Hebrew poetry. Perhaps it could also be said that like all natural language there
is meter in Hebrew poetry, but not regular meter, and hence it does not distinguish
poetry from other discourse.
It is because of the inconclusive results of stress-based meter that Freedman
and Cross advocate the superiority of syllable counting. Having retreated from
the widespread emendations in his early work (1980:187) Freedman does not maintain that syllable counting necessarily reveals a fixed regular pattern, butthat it
is the most sensitive means to measuring the degree of regularity which may be
present. Another advantage is that syllable counting is less indeterminate or subjective than stress assignment. Whereas the stress-based meter system is concerned only with the relative balance of consecutive colons, Freedman measures the
balance between a whole range of units: he measures the balance between the
two colons of the bicolon, the relative length of bicolons, the relative length of
stanzas and even of whole chapters (1980: 51-76). Gordis (p. 508) is dubious about
measuring balance bewteen bicolons or stanzas because this seems to involve abandoning the colon as "the fundamental block in biblical verse." Another problem
with seeking points of balance with such a wide variety of units is that, like systems ·
of numerology, if you measure something enough different ways you are sure to
find something that seems to match. But the significance of such matches lessens
considerably. This is especially the case for balance between strophes, since strophes
tend to be rather arbitrary subjective units.
There is another technique which Freedman uses to relate irregularities of
measurements to a more regular underlying form. Having · measured the colon
and bicolon lengths and divided up into strophes, he extrapolates a metrical model
or basic pattern which is reasonably close to the actual pattern. He then suggests
that variations from the presumed norm were either deliberate artistic variations
by the poet or else the result of transmission errors (1980:245,383). This approach
72
EAJT / 4:2186
has the merit of treating the actual poem and the regular metrical pattern as
separate entities rather than simply manhandling the former into the latter by
emendation or inconsistent metric measurement. But it still is based on the
unproved assumption that such complete regularity was the model.
On the basis of syllable counting and analysis of strophic structures, Freedman
distinguished two basic structural types in Hebrew poetry (1980:9-10). The first,
exemplified by Psalm 113, have fairly regular metrical patterns and symmetrical
stanza structures. Thus Psalm 113 has a standard bicolonlength of 14 syllables
divided 7:7 or sometimes 8:6. The second type of poem, exemplified by Lam.
1 - 3, exhibits much greater variation in bicolon length and stanza construction.
When the distribution of bicolon and stanza lengths are plotted on a graph they
form a bell-shaped curve characteristic of a random distribution around a mean.
These results raise a number of questions. First, how justifiable is it to posit a
structural type as 'basic' when it is based on only a few examples? Secondly,
whereas with the poems of the first type it is clear that colon or bicolon length
was a significant structural feature which helps distinguish them from other
discourse types, with the second type the extent of such regularity is merely that
there is a target of average line length, allowing a lot of variability around that
average. The question is as to whether such a pattern of random variation around
an average in any way distinguishes this discourse type from other discourse types.
Isn't such a pattern likely to be found in any discourse?
In conclusion, I adjudge that syllable counting does have some advantages
over stress counting as a means for measuring relative balance of colons or
bicolons, and the two can be used complementarily. An analysis of some particular
poems such as Psalm 113 do exhibit a convincing regularity. In other cases one
cannot escape ·the impression that the regularity produced in the analysis is
significantly more than that really present in the poem itself. A clear example
of this is the seemingly neat analysis of Exodus 15 into a regular pattern of short
. and long lines (1980:225). But the sorting of the lines of the poem into these two
supposedly basic types of lines is rather arbitrary. Sometimes a 'line' corresponds
to one colon (e.g. v. 2a), sometimes to a bicolon (e.g. v. 3). Such inconsistency
suggests that the analyst is forcing the data to fit the desired result. These sorts
of dubious analyses and the greater irregularity found in other poems suggest
that, like stress-based meter, syllable balancing does not function widely as a
distinguishing feature of Hebrew poetry.
Another system which needs evaluation as an alternative to these metric
systems is O'Connor's system of syntactic constraints. He proposes that the lines
of Hebrew poetry are all formulated subject to the following 6 constraints: (p. 87)
1. No line contains more than 3 clause predicators.
2. No line contains fewer than 1 or more than 4 grammatical constituents (e.g.
verb, noun phrase).
3. No line contains fewer than 2 or more than 5 lexical words.
4. No constituent contains more than 4 words. 3-word constituents occur either
alone or as one of two constituents in one-clause lines.
5. No line of 3 clause predicators contains any dependent nominal phrases. In
lines with 2 clause predicators only one can have dependent nominal phrases.
6. If a line contains one or more clause predicators, it contains only nominal
phrases dependent on them.
The effect of these constraints is to allow a wide variety of line types ( = colons)
and to ~xclude some more complex line types. It is quite a flexible system and
73
EAJT / 4:2186
hence suffers from the weaknesses of other flexible systems like that of Sievers.
O'Connor is well aware of the problems involved in proposing such a system as
an alternative to meter. One requirement that needs to be fulfilled to establish
the validity of such a system is that "it not describe a body of texts radically
unlike other bodies of verse" (p. 67). O'Connor claims he fulfills this requirement
by limiting the application of his system to a corpus conceded by all scholars
to be poetic. But as Kugel rightly points out (p. 319), O'Connor's system could
apply equally well to a great deal of prose in the Bible. And if there are lines
which are too complex to fit O'Connor's constraints, they can always be split
into two simpler lines. Kugel gives convincing examples of where O'Connor has
split poetic lines unnaturally to make them fit his system (Kugel: 318). He also
cites examples from Psalms (outside O'Connor's corpus) which would not fit his
constraints. Since the 'line' is the basic unit of O'Connor's system, the question
of defining and determining the lineation becomes crucial. Although O'Connor
discusses this issue (p. 52-53, 315) he does not give any strict criteria for determining
the lineation other than those implied in his own system. Hence there is circular
reasoning. The lineation is based on his system and his system describes constraints
on the lineation. Kugel (p. 317) argues that the function of a metric system is
to impose some perceptible regularity on the poetry. But O'Connor's constraints
are so broad that it is difficult to see how some of the widely varying line-types
allowed could be perceived as being variants of the same perceptible pattern.
Perhaps O'Connor's complex system of syntactic constraints could be
summarized in a simple statement: "Lines in poetry show a tendency towards
syntactic simplicity." The data behind such a statement can be analysed
descriptively, and O'Connor achieves that with care and precision. But it is quite
another thing to claim that such a tendency to simplicity is one of the fundamental
distinctive features of Hebrew poetry.
The overall conclusion on the question of meter is that while some Hebrew
poetry does exhibit patterns of rhythmic regularity, this is not a consistent or
general feature. The rhythmic patterns of Hebrew poetry need further investigation,
not in isolation, but in the context of investigating the rhythmic patterns of biblical
Hebrew as a whole. Both stressed-based rhythm and syllable counting may shed
light on potential patterns.
Parallelism
Unlike the widely diverging views as to the importance of meter in Hebrew poetry,
there has been much more unanimity as to the centrality of parallelism as a
distinguishing feature of Hebrew poetry. The debate has been on how it should
be defined or classified. Lowth, who was the first to popularize the concept,
proposed three basic categories: synonymous, antithetical and synthetic (Lect. 19).
Since then many further categorizations have been proposed, some based on finer
semantic distinctions, others based on syntactic features. Gray's distinction between
complete and incomplete parallelism is an example of the latter. In complete
parallelism, each of the syntactic constituents of the first colon is matched by
a constituent having the same syntactic function in the second. In incomplete
parallelism, one of the colons has at least one less syntactic constituent compared
to the other.
Geller (1979) has quite a detailed system of classification combining syntactic
and semantic criteria. Unlike Lowth, he does not attempt to measure the overall
semantic relationship between two whole colons. Such a measurement is too hard
to pin down precisely with all dubious cases tending to be dumped in the third
74
EAJT/4:2I86
category 'synthetic' (See criticism by Gray: 49; Geller: 375f). Geller uses the
syntactic parallelism to identify matching constituents and .then evaluates the
semantic relationship between each matching constituent p~r. He has 12 semantic
categories: (pp. 34f) Firstly there are synonym and antonym, corresponding to
Lowth's first two categories. A third category is 'list'. This seems to correspond
to Watson's (p. 132) category of 'correlative' and Freedman's (1980:38) category
of 'complementary'. Geller defines this as items which are relat,: d by an understood
common denominator and are not logically interchangeable. Examples are:
eatlldrink, rainlldew, manllyouth. Watson's examples are: blindlllame, to
sow I Ito eat, father I Imother, light! I darkness. Since some of these exhibit a kind
of oppositeness, it is not entirely clear how they are distinct from the antonym
category, examples of which are: right! Ileft (Watsn: 31) or outsidellinside (Geller:
35).
Geller's fourth category is 'merism', which is similar to 'list' with the
additional specification that the listing of two extremes implies everything in
between.
'Epithet' is a category where one element is a description of or circumlocution
for the other. Geller's example: winellblood of grapes. Watson applies this label
to examples using proper names: Davidllson of Jesse.
Geller has two other categories similar to the general 'list' category: 'wholepart' and 'concrete-abstract'. Examples of the former are:
Deut 33:29c your enemies I I(On) their backs
Ps. 114:4
like ramslllike sheep
Examples of the latter are:
Deut. 32:25a the swordllterror
Deut. 32:23 disasterllmy arrows
Geller's final category is 'metaphor'. His example is:
Ps. 68:36c waxllthe wicked
He also has 4 other categories which are arguably more syntactic than semantic:
'proper noun', 'pronoun', 'numerical', and 'identity' (= repetition).
The trouble with this sort of classification system is that the definitions are
somewhat vague and the relationships between many of the categories are unclear.
Geller acknowledges criticism with regard to the arbitrariness of such classification
(footnote p. 33). Other semantic categories of parallelism cited by O'Connor (p.
50) include 'emblematic', 'climactic' and 'impressionistic'. O'Connor rightly
suggests that the multiplication of categories, many of which are difficult to
distinguish clearly from others, casts doubt on the helpfulness of this sort of
approach. Kugel makes a similar point (p. 7). He argues that the semantic
relationships in parallelism are numerous and varied and that the intensity of
relationship varies from "zero perceivable correspondence" to "near-zero
perceivable differentiation." Because of this he argues (p. 58) that if such
categorizations are to capture intrinsic features of parallelism, either you need
only one category, which captures the essence of parallelism, or else you need
a hundred categories to capture all the possible nuances.
If one does want to define a large number of categories, it would be desirable
to use more strictly defined semantic criteria to delineate some of the categories.
Lyons' system of sense relations (1977:270-295) could be helpful in reducing the
subjective nature of such categorization. The relevant sense relations are:
hyponymy, antonymy, converseness, complementarity, and directional oppositeness.
7S
EAJT / 4:2/86
These could be used particularly in relation to vague categories like 'list' and
'antithetic'.
Hyponymy is where one item (A) is a subset of the other (B). It is restricted
to cases where 'x is A' entails 'x is B', not merely when two sets overlap somewhat.
Examples of hyponymic relation would be: rams//sheep (which Geller called 'partwhole'). Other cases could be classified as co-hyponyms, related by both being
subsets of a common super-ordinate category. This would fit some of the examples
in the 'list' or 'correlative' categories as well as some listed as antonymy:
eat!/drink (hyponyms of consume)
rain/ / dew (hyponyms of precipitation)
blind/ flame (hyponyms of disabled)
sun/ /moon (hyponyms of heavenly body)
According to Lyons, synonymy is mutual hyponymy: when 'x is A' entails 'x is
B' and vice versa. That is, both sets overlap completely. There are relatively few
cases of this. What is called 'synonymous' parallelism is usually a case of similarity
rather than clearly specifiable synonymy.
Antonymy, in Lyons sense, represents a graded scalar oppositeness. Some of
Lowth's examples of antithetic parallelism (Vol 11, 45-47) fall into this category:
rich/ /poor faithful! /treacherous, full/ /lrungry.
Complementarity means that the two terms divide the semantic field into
two mutually exclusive categories. This is unlike graded antonymy where you can
have indeterminate midpoints ('neither rich not poor'). Some of Watson's
correlatives fall into this category: father/ /mother; light! /darkness. Also
'day/ /night' which Freedman calls 'complementary' (1980:38).
Converses are opposites which involve role reversal of participants. Examples
are: buy/ /sell, husband/ /wife. Thus 'A is husband of B' entails 'B is 'wife of
A'. Another category is directional opposites including examples such as cast
down/ /life up, come/ / go etc.
While application of such clearly defined semantic categories can tidy up some
of the confusion in parallelism subclassification, it only affects a minority of the
cases. Much parallelism falls outside Lyons' clear categories and included many
degrees of similarity, sense overlap or distinction and incompatibility. We return
to Kugel's point that an adequate classification may need a hundred categories.
And what is the point? It is doubtful if the poet was aware of such niceties. While
such classifications can spell out semantic relationships, it is doubtful that they
can be put forward as a convincing system of poetic structure.
More positive results can be obtained by classifying parallelism by syntactic
criteria. Again this can be done to a greater or lesser degree of delicacy. Gray's
basic'distinction between complete and incomplete parallelism has been expanded
and elaborated in various ways.
Geller's scheme (p. 48-49, 289f) usesa very confusing notation system to
categorize different formulae which are classified according to the degree of balance
between corresponding grammatical constituents in parallel colons as measured
by the number of words per constituent. Thus each constituent is analysed a,s
either simple compound, double compound or triple compound, and various
combinations are enumerated. This is then related to various stress patterns to
make up the complete list of formulae which show both metrical and grammatical
structure.
76
EAJT I 4:2186
Since these formulae are used exhaustively to analyse a small corpus of poems,
is much of value in Geller's work with regard to describing many of the
syntactic, semantic and rhythmic phenomena present in the bicolons of these
poems. There are large numbers of lists of line patterns and statistics. But the
usefulness of all this information is limited by a lack in showing the systematic
functional significance of different formulae. One of Geller's main concerns is
to relate the grammatical structure to the metric balance. There is repeated
discussion of the relationship between different formulae and syllabic balance and
compensation (p.237, 245, 248, 250, 253 etc.). There is an abundance of detailed
description but a paucity of helpful generalization. Thus the significance of all
the types and sub-types is hard to grasp. This is due to the limited and specialized
scope of the research, as Geller points out (p. 366). When Geller's formulae are
evaluated in .conjunction with all the other devices which make up the poetic texture
they may be "little more than a relatively insignificant abstract pattern" to use
Geller's words (p. 367). In which case they would be of the same ilk as 0' Connor' s
system of syntactic constraints or some of the other metric systems which have
been proposed. What is most needed is not the measurement and detailed
classification of every possible pattern, but the discernment and explication of
which patterns and features are most significant and functional in a system.
~here
Watson's treatment of syntactic subcategories of parallelism, though somewhat
unsystematic, is less abstruse than that of Geller. Among the forms he discusses
are gender-matched parallelism, staircase parallelism, terrace pattern and pivot
pattern, the latter two of which he does not label as parallelism.
Gender-matched parallelism (p. 123f) is one where the gender of corresponding
nouns in parallel colons form a regular pattern such as m+mllf+f or
m+f! Im+f. But it is doubtful that such patterns are significant because they
are likely to occur fairly frequently in any case just by random combination. See
the appendix for further discussion.
Staircase parallelism (p. 150f) is a subcategory of incomplete parallelism which
involves repetition; the first element of both colons are the same. The
incompleteness involves a vocative or epithet in the first colon which is not
paralleled in the second. Watson's example: (Jdg. 4:18)
, l'l( ;,,'0 Turn aside, 0 sir,
, 7 N ;, , , 0 turn aside towards me.
The pivot pattern (p. 214f) is another case of incomplete parallelism in which
the final element of the first colon (the 'pivot') is not paralleled in the second.
Watson's example: (Ps. 114:7)
.
Y'I( , '1 1 n In the presence of the Lord, writhe,
1 , , N ' l ~ ';> 7.)
0 Land,
:IvV' ;'1';>1'( 'J~';>IJ In the presence· of lacbo' God.
This seems virtually the same as staircase parallelism . .The difference .is that in
staircase parallelism there is nothing in the first colon except the repeated element
and the interrupting vocative, whereas in this example of the pivot pattern there
is an additional non-repeated element which is paralleled. Also, the pivot pattern
is ·not as tightly defined as staircase parallelism because most of the examples
have no repetition.
In coIitrast to this the terrace pattern (p. 208f) does have repetition - this
time the last element of the first colon is repeated as the first element of the second.
77
EAJT I 4:2/86
Watson's example is: (Is. 38:11)
l,N-NI-NW .W I'll never see Yah
o"n11 Y'ICl 11' Yah in the land of the living.
Watson is quite concerned that scholars ,tend to confuse these three patterns (p.
150, 208, 215): Arid inde,ed they are distinct. But it might be asked: why are these
three particular patterns extracted and labelled and mutually contrasted and gIven
detailed treatment when many other patterns are not? Geller's system has 10 major
patternsa.nd 70 minor patterns(p. 282). Watson however seems to have
concentrated.on aJew p~rticular patterns which have been given interesting labels, .
but ,not shown how they .in,terrelate or make up a total system. . .
In this regard O'Connor's approach iscleariy superior. Wary of the
indeterminacy of semantic classifications, he avoids the weaknesses of either Geller'
or Watson' s approach by classifying parallelistic phenomena as ·6 different tropes.
These are based on formal syntactic featliresand divided into 3 subgroups
according to whether the tropewhich binds two colons together functions on wordlevel, line-level, or supralineariy.
The word-level consistsof repetition and '·colOrat.ion. Repetition (p. 361f) is
subclassified according to the relative position of the repeated element (This would
include Watson's categories of staircase parallelism and terrace pattern, among
others). There is also discussion of repetition at greater distance than between
adjacent colons.
O'Connor's term coloration (p. 371f) includes all sorts of relationships between
matching constituents or words in adjacent colons. It includes the various sorts
of semantic parallelism between word-pairs discussed above. O'Connor's basic
subcategOries are binomination, coordination and combination; The first refers
to two different elements both functioning as alternate names for the same referent
(like Watson's epithetic parallelism). Coordination is a smaller category which
includes various sorts of co-hyponyms including couples (e.g. Mosesl I Aaron Ps 106:16) and numbers, aswell as cases where the two ileITIS areusedto represent
the whole set of co-hyponyms. These are termed 'emblematic' (e.g. bread and
meat - Ps 78:20) Or 'merismatic' (heaven and earth).
Combination includes cases where the link between the parallel terms can
be interpreted in terms of the grammatical relations of construct, apposition or
adjectival modification., Some cases classified here are reinterpretations ,of what
Geller called .'c()Ocrete-abstracC. Gellers 'sw()rdllterror' (Deut.32:25) becomes
'the sword of terror'. Similarly with 'disastersllmy arrows' (see below). Note how
O'ConnOr reinterprets semantic categories syntactically.
This approach raises a tricky question of interpretation. If halfof a putative
grammatical construction is in one colon and the other half is in the second colon,
to what extent is. this semantically the equivalent of the unified construction?, So
for example O'Connor translates Deut. 32:23 as follows: (p. 201)
'sph 'Iymw r'wt I will gather myarrovvs' evils against them..
hsy 'klh bm
I will expend ITIY arrows' evils upon them.
That is, once the relationship of discontinuous ·construct is recognised; the
combined meaning is applied to both colons. The purpose of this is to counteract
the non-integrative interpretation which interprets each colon independently
ignoring the cross-fertilisation accomplished by the parallelislTI . But it seems to
me that such a transbition is going too far in the integrative direction. The degree
of integration suggested by such a translation seems to go beyond that entailed
78
EAJT/4:2I86
by the form (See Kugel's criticism p. 41-45). We should distinguish between the
task of translation, in which we have to plump for one and only one nearest
equivalent, and the task of semantic interpretation, in which we should seek to
evaluate more finely the precise nuance conveyed. The effect of the parallelistic
structure is to strike a dynamic balance, between an integrative meaning (which
could have been achieved unambiguously by a continuous construct chain) and
a more independent meaning (which could have been achieved ifthe colons w,ere
Ilot juxtaposed parallelistically). The meaning of the whole,bicolon is neither one
nor theother but a combination of both. One way of explaining this is interms
oK denotation and ,connotation. The independent literal meaning of each colon
could be seen as conveying the denotation; the integrative interpretation the
connotation. In the case ofthis verse, the link between r'Wt and bsy might be
adjudged to be relatively weak (they are not a common stereotyped phrase or
fixed pair) hence the denotation might be somewhat more strongly conveyed than
the connotation. In other cases the tie is stronger, for example: (Jdg. 5:26cd p. 228)
wblmb sysr'
She pounds Sisera's skull.
mbqb r'sw
She smashes Sisera's skull.
Here the integrative interpretation is much stronger and the 'connotation' becomes
the more dominant aspect of the interpretation. We could then say that there is
a reversal of denotative-connotative balance so that the integrative meaning
becomes more central (hence 'denotative') ·and the literal meaning less· central
(hence 'connotative'). See Kerbrat-Orrechioni (1978:156) who analyses this sort
of denotation-connotation reversal with respect to metaphor.
Incontrast to word-level tropes which only require correspondence between
one word in each colon, line-level tropeS involvecorrespond~nce between all the
constituents of two colons. This is basically what others call syntactic or
g~ammatical parallelism. The trope of matching (p. 391f) is achieved as long as
successive colons 'consist of clauses containing the sam~ set of syntactic
c()nstituents, even if there is no word-level parallelism between them (though often
there is). The main variablesdeterminingsubcategorization of the matching.trope
are (a) order, leading to variouschiastic patterns, and (b) the enumeration of
various "combinations .of different types of grammatical constituent.
The other line-level t~ope is gapping (p. 122f). This is a type of incomplete
parallelism involving ellipsis. O'Connor contrasts gapping. which, involves elements
which are obligatory in the syntactic structure, .with ·other types of ellipsis, such
as conjunction reduction, which involves ellipsis of the other elements. In the
Hebrewdause, the verb is the only obligatory element, so verb gapping is the
main type. O'Connor also discusses object and particlegappingbut he does not
include themin his analysis of the text's structure (p. 405).
The main supralinear trope is that of syntactic dependency. This simply means
that one clause is spread over two colonswhich are hence. bound together. This
is what Geller called enjambedlines (p. 296). The question arises as to how
justifiable it is to cite this as having a similar function as the ?thertropes which
clearly involve an element of parallelism. How do we know that a longer should
hot be just treated as one long liIle, rather than being split i~ tW() in order to
pr~serve the assu~edpattern?The relationship between two halves ofa clause
is quite different from that between two parallel clauses bound together bytropes
' ,
such as repetition, coloration, matching or gappillg.
79
EAJT I 4:2/86
The final trope, mixing, is really just an infrequent extended variety of syntactic
dependency. Instead of extending over two colons, there are typically four. The
first two are parallel main clauses and the second two are parallel subordinate
clauses dependent on the first two.
O'Connor's classification system is very helpful as a systematic and insightful
setting out of the relationships between different sorts of phenomena found in
poetry. But it is open to a number of objections with regard to whether it can
function as a description of one of the two fundamental structural features of
Hebrew poetry. Kugel criticises it as splitting into six what js essentially one
phenomenon, and thereby failing to capture the essence of parallelism, which he
claims his own analysis does (p. 322). One way of seeing the unity between
O'Connor's tropes is in terms of cohesion. Halliday and Hasan's (1976) classic
work on this subject identified five major types of inter-clausal cohesive devices:
reference, substitution, ellipsis, conjunction, and lexical cohesion. In addition, there
is the intraclausal cohesion produced by the syntactic structure. Most of
O'Connor's tropes can be seen as exemplifying various of these cohesive devices.
Thus repetition is an example of lexical cohesion; binomination is an example
of reference; other types of coloration are lexical cohesion of varying strength;
gapping is ellipsis; syntactic dependency is intra-clausal cohesion. Matching is the
only trope which is not cohesive in Halliday's sense - this is because matching,
when unaccompanied by any other trope (often it is accompanied by a word-level
trope) is the weakest of all the tropes in its cohesive effect. Since such cohesion
is a property of all language, how valid is it to posit such devices as a fundamental
distinguishing feature of poetry? The tropes of syntactic dependency and gapping
are particularly weak in this regard. Since prose tends to have longer clauses than
poetry, which involve syntactic dependency, syntactic dependency can play no role
as a distinctive feature of a poetic system. As for gapping, although O'Connor
claims that verb gapping does not occur in prose (p. 124), Kugel (p. 322) gives
a series of counterexamples which disproves this. It is also unclear to what extent
repetition and matching in themselves would serve to distinguish poetry from prose.
Some prose passages can be very repetitive (e.g. Num. 7) and they can also have
a succession of clauses with the same syntactic structure (matching). Does this
make them poetic? Mixing and coloration seem to be more distinctive tropes. But
actually it is the combination and simultaneous functioning of several tropes which
contribute to the poetic nature of many bicolons in a poem. But this leads back
to Kugel's assertion that it is better to analyse the phenomenon of parallelism
as a unified essential feature rather than splitting it up.
Kugel characterises the parallelistic line as a structure with A and B colons
combined with a slight pause at the end of A and a full pause at the end of B: (p. 1)
I
II
The tricolon is similarly:
1____ 1____ I I
Often, but not always, there are corresponding elements iq A and B which tie
them together (such as those exemplified by O'Connor's tropes). Kugel emphasises
the great variety of possible semantic relation between A and B (p. 4), from no
real semantic parallelism ('mere comma'), to much closer correspondences.
Regardless of the degree of correspondence, he regards the differentiation Qf B
from Ato be an essential aspect of the form. He rejects the synonymous analysis
(A = B); rather the differentiation and correspondence work to integrate the
sentence into a unified whole (A +) (p. 16). He characterises this as "A, and what's
80
EAJT/ 4:2186
more, B" (p. 42). The essence of parallelism is not the similarity between A and
B, though that is an important aspect of it. The essence is the emphatic 'seconding'
character of B - it is subjoined and hence emphatic in relation to A (p. 51). Kuegel
argues that parallelism is so variable because B is not meant to be a mere parallel
of A, but to carry it further, back it up, complete it, go beyond it (p. 52).
A key aspect of Kugel's analysis is that this seconding relationship of B to
A is merely determined by the independent semantic relationship between Band
A which might be there even if expressed in a non-parallelistic form. Rather this
seconding relationship is part of the encoded meaning of the parallelistic form
itself (p. 14). This contrasts with most analyses of semantic parallelism which focus
on various relationships between A and B elements, such as word-pairs, as if these
were the essence of the parallelism. Kugel's approach denies this and focusses
on the form itself as being a conveyer of meaning.
Kugel's analysis can be interpreted as relating to the information structure
of the discourse, as distinguished from other aspects of semantic or syntactic
structure. (See Halliday, 1970. Note that I am using the term 'information structure'
more broadly than Halliday does, to include thematic structure.) Information
structure relates to the alternatives one has in presenting linguistic information
in terms of varying the relative thematization and focus of the different elements
in relation to each other. Different grammatical resources such ·as word order,
intonation, syntactic structure, etc., can be utilized in different ways to present the
information with the precise configuration deemed appropriate with respect to
relative focus and other factors. The parallelistic line can be seen as one of the
alternative forms which can be used to give a certain configuration to the
information structure. It involves presenting information in binary chunks with
the second chunk subjoined to the first. It contrasts with other alternatives such
as presenting each chunk independently (e.g. ___ / / ___ / /) or integrating
them more completdy into one unified chunk (e.g. / /
/ /)
In order to achieve this information structure configuration it is necessary
to ensure that the link between A and B elements is stronger than the links between
them and preceding or following elements. If the links are ·all of the same strength
you would have an additive style: A then B then C then D then E. This might
be more typical of some types of narrative prose. On the other hand, A and B
each also need to maintain some independence.
Ithink Kugel's analysis is quite sound and insightful. We could say that the
most fundamental characteristic of Hebrew poetry is the preference for that certain
type of information structure expressed by parallelism. It this is so, other semantic
and syntactic features can be analysed in terms of the contribution they make
to achieving the target structure. So the functions of O'Connor's tropes can be
all seen as a variety of ways to ·achieve the degree of correspondence needed to
set A and B (and sometimes C in a tricolon) off as a separate binary (trinary)
chunk of information. The different types of syntactic line-forms could be
evaluated in terms of how they affect the information structure. This would be
more significant than merely evaluating them in terms of how they affect syllabic
balance (as Geller does) which in many cases seems to be a feature of less central
importance. Andersen's treatment of the Hebrew sentence (1974) is helpful here.
He shows (p. 189) how different sentence types are protypical realisations of various
deep structure relationships, but also how there is a choice of alternate realisations
of the same relationship using different sentence types. Many of these deep
structure relationships such as 'extraneous', 'incidental', 'concomitant', 'additive',
81
EAJT/4:2/86
'neutral' are directly concerned with information structure. The concomitant
relationship is perhaps the one most congruent with the .central thrust of the
parallelistic form, so this could shed light on why the chiastic sentence, which
is the prototypical surface realisation of the concomitant relationship, is so
widespread in parallelism. In order to have a proper discernment of the types
of information structuring characteristic of Hebrew poetry, much more work needs
to be done on the information structure of the Hebrew language as a whole.
This understanding of parallelism may also shed light on the relationship
between poetry and dialogue. It has been claimed (Andersen & Freedman, 1980:
61) that eialogue or speeches found in narrative tend to be more poetic or elevated
in style than ordinary narrative. This presumably includes a greater amount of
parallelism. If this authentically represents conventions of oral speech it seems
slightly odd - we normally think of spoken language as being more casual and
less elevated than written language. This is the pattern found in many languages.
But another typical difference between written and spoken language is information
structure. Brown.and Yule (1983) point out that written language tends to be much
denser in information than spoken language - a lot more information is packed
into one clause. Spoken language tends to present information in smaller chunks.
If this principle applies to Hebrew, then the higher degree of parallelism in dialogue '
or speeches may simply reflect the appropriate information structure for oral
language without necessarily implying that it is more elevated than other styles.
More study needs to be done in this area.
In conclusion we can say that parallelism is one of the fundamental features
of Hebrew poetic discourse because that particular information structure became
conventionalized as the preferred, though not exclusive, target structure of poetry.
We can recognize that such an information structure configuration has other
functions and can be used in any sort of discourse when that particular chunking
or balance of information units is desired. Thus there are no grounds for seeing
the mere occurrence of parallelism as indicative of poetic fragments within prose
discourse (See Kugel:76). And the fact that parallelism is not a unique feature of
poetry means that it cannot be used simply-mindedly as a determinative yardstick
to distinguish one sort of discourse from another. In this sense Kugel is right that
Hebrew does not have the same sort of prose-poetry distinction as many' other
languages. Parallelism does not function in the ' same way as a meter. In
intermediate cases on the prose-poetry continuum it would be better to speak of
'elevated style' rather than insist on a choice between poetry or prose. A greater
frequency of parallelism is one feature of an elevated style; and therefore it is
an important feature of poetry, which is elevated style par excellence.
Prose Particles
Compared to the issues of meter and parallelism, relatively little study has
been done on the frequency of prose particles. Freedman (1980:2-4) reports it is
as an effective discriminant, with prose passages clustering at the high end of
the frequency spectrum while poetry is found at the other extreme. But there are
exceptions and overlapping. Andersen and Freedman (1980:60-65) use this measure
as a major tool in evaluating the literary structure of Hosea. They suggest that
passages with a medium frequency be regarded not asa mixture of poetry and
prose but as a distinctive oratorical style blending features of both. This seems
a sound approach. Andersen and Forbes (1983) give tabulations of prose particle
counts for virtually all the chapters of the Hebrew Bible. This provided a very
useful starting point for further study.
82
EAJT / 4:2186
Andersen and Forbes emphasize the crudity of the measure, which means
that caution should be exercised in drawing inferences, especially with regard to
small portions of text. This is especially the case in making inferences on the basis
of low counts of particles - it may be that there were very few potential
opportunities to use the particles in a particular short portion. An example of
a dubious inference based on a short portion is the example discussed by Watson
(p. 54). He cites Num 12:6-8 as a text with no prose particles. But closer
examination reduces the significance of this: it is not a case that the particles were
omitted; rather there does not happen to be any places where they could have
been used. There are no relative clauses, no direct objects and no definite nouns
which could have had the consonantal article. This underlines the need to develop
statistics based on a more sophisticated measure: the percentage of potential
occurrences of the particles which actually do occur, rather than the crude
percentage. Radday and Shore attempted this in their study of the article (Andersen
and Forbes: 167). A comparison of such a measure with the crude percentage
could shed light on the question as to whether a low count is due to omission
or to the avoidance of constructions which call for the use of the particles.
Low frequency of prose particles as a feature of poetry is different from the
other features such as parallelism, meter and acrostics in that iUs not obvious
what would be 'poetic' about such a feature. It seems less likely that there is a
pure direct causal link between poeticity and frequency of prose particles - that
the poet omitted them simply because they were aesthetically felt to be unpoetic
and that it was conventionally regarded as a sign of good poetry to leave them
out. It is more likely that there are also some mediating factors. Some possibilities:
- Linguistic change. The prose particles are an innovation in Hebrew and
the poetry reflects early usage - archaic or archaizing (Andersen & Forbes: 167).
- Conciseness. The poetic line tends to be short (Kugel p. 1) and this is one
way of shortening it.
- Information structure. In the case of 'aser, the preference fora balanced
parallelistic structure may mitigate against the use of relative clauses, which create
a more unbalanced information structure contrasting main focus with background
information.
All these and other possibilities await further study.
Acrostics
The acrostic pattern found in about a dozen poems in the Hebrew Bible is
the only purely formal feature which clearly and unambiguously distinguished
poetry from other discourse types. If it uses acrostics it is definitely a poem. But
lack of acrostics indicates nothing.
It is interesting that even in the application of this very regular device, complete
regularity is not found. About half the acrostic poems display variations from
the completely regular pattern: some use only part of the alphabet (Nah. 1:2-8;
Ps 9, 10; cf. Ps 155). Others omit the '-verse and add an extra :J-verse at the end
(ps. 25, 34; cf. Sir. 51) (Watson, p. 199). This suggests that with the acrostic pattern,
just as with the other features such as parallelism or meter, one should be wary
of assuming that complete regularity is somehow the 'ideal' and that deviations
from it are substandard or evidence of textual corruption.
Strophes & Stanzas
The question of strophes and stanzas within Hebrew poetry is an issue about which
83
EAJT / 4:2/86
scholars differ substantially. On ·the one hand there is the assessment by Gray
(p. 1861) who considers them to be only a minor and occasional feature. He argues
that an intentional strophic system in a poem would be indicated by strophes of
equal length which would be discernable either by some formal feature (for example
the acrostic pattern in Lamentations or Psalm 119) or by the sense divisions. He
accepts that such regular divisions do occur in many poems but he rejects attempts
to impose regular or irregular strophes on other poems in which they are not so
evident. He regards sense-divisions of irregular length to be an indication that
the writer expressed his thought free from the restraint of any strophic law and
that such divisions should be simply regarded as verse-paragrahps of indeterminate
length.
This view is seconded by Gordis (p. 506-507). He distinguishes between the
necessary task of dividing a poem into sections according to themes and the more
dubious enterprise of imposing strophes for which objective evidence is lacking.
He acknowledges the relatively rare occurrence of stanzas delimited by a regular
refrain (Ps. 42-43, 49, Jb. 28, Ps. 107). In other cases he regards strophic theory
abortive either because it requires emendations, transpositions and unnatural
division of the text, or else the irregu!arity of the strophe length makes the term
'strophe' inappropriate.
On the other hand other scholars are more ambitious in seeking strophic and
stanza structures. But do they succeed in overcoming the criticisms of Gray and
Gordis?
Watson (p. 161) defines stanza as a major subdivision of a poem which
comprises one or more strophes. He says that a source of confusion is the
preconception that the structure of strophes and stanzas has to be regular. He
asks: Should one refer to irregularly structured blocks of verse as strophes or
stanzas or not? His answer is yes and his approach is based on that. My answer
would be no - it is better to reserve the use of the terms stanza and strophe
for regular subdivisions and refer to irregular subdivisions as sections or
subsections.
The difference between the two is that if there are clearly defined regular
stanzas one can maintain with some confidence that this reflects the intentional
structure of the poem, but if there are only irregular sections, often there are many
alternate ways of subdividing and one should be very wary of presenting such
schemes of subdivision as representing the correct analysis of the structure, rather
than merely one possible way of summarizing the flow of ideas. Watson admits
(p. 163) that it is to some extent a matter of feel. The study of poetry and and
other discourse would be significantly advanced if scholars would clearly
distinguish between more subjective, though helpful, structural summaries of the
flow of ideas and themes in a work, and more objective structural divisions which
are clearly signalled by the text itself.
Freedman (Cross & Freedman: 186) acknowledges the dangers in identifying
regular stanzas, but he rejects the sceptical opinion that such structures cannot
be identified with any consistency. In analysing quite a number of poems he is
concerned to show their regular stanza or strophic structure, signalled by devices
such .as refrains, inclusios and metric balance.
Freedman reverses Watson's usage: forhim strophe is the larger unit and stanza
the smaller (1980:190,280). In his analysis of Ps. 113 (1980:2431) he makes a
convincing case for a regular strophic structure which corresponds to natural sense-
84
EAJT / 4:2/86
divisions in the text. His analysis of Ps. 137 (1980:319f) is also based on natural
divisions and he shows how, though the lengths of the units vary, they form a
complex envelope construction. But his attempt to impose a regular strophic
structure on some other poems leads to some more dubious results. The analysis
of the Song of Hannah (1980:249f) uses sections of four different sizes. Those
3 bicolons in length are called stanzas, those 1 or 2 bicolons in length are called
dividers, those 4 bicolons in length correspond to the opening and closing. He
claims that the poem is based on a model in which each unit has a length which
is a multiple of 14 syllables (14, 28, 42, 56), but to make the data fit this he has
to delete all the waw's and even then allow for some variation from the alleged
model. Also it is unclear as to whether his division clearly matches the sense
divisions - for example he makes v. 6-7 the 'main divider' and v. 8a-8f stanza
11, but this splits v. 7 off from v. 8a-8d ignoring their structural and ideational
unity since all these colons involve the use of participles to describe Yahweh's
treatment of the poor. It is very dubious as to whether Freedman's complicated
structure represents a real underlying strophic system in this poem.
His analysis of Exodus 15 (1980:187f) is based on more regular units
interspersed with refrains, and the results here are more convincing. But at one
point the regularity is only achieved by an unnatural division of the text: Strophe
11 (v. 12-16d) is divided at the end of v. 14. This splits v. 14 off from vv. 15~16,
whereas vv. 14-15 in particular comprise a thematic unity describing the reactions
of the peoples to Yahweh's acts. The structure is:
v. 14a Summary - 'the peoples'
v. 14b Philistia
v. 15a Edom
v. 15b Moab
v. 15c Canaan
Freedman claims that v. 15and 16 pick up and elaborate the theme of v. 14 (p.
190), but actually it is v. 14b-15c which elaborate the theme stated in v. 14a.
Freedman's division after v. 14b is motivated by metric considerations - it enables
him to have sections of balance syllabic length. But this is not sufficient
justification for such an unnatural division and shows the temptations the seekers
of metric regularity are prone too.
An even more dubious example of this is found in Freedman's treatment of Ps.
23 (1980:275f). He claims that the poem divides naturally into five stanzas each
about 24 syllables long. These combine into two strophes each of two stanzas
plus a closing stanza. But in order to attain this regular pattern he must make
the division between strophes fall right in the middle of a clause: v. 4a gam ki
'elek bege' salmut is in strophe I and v. 4b 10' 'ira' ra' ki 'attah 'immadi is in
strophe 11. Freedman's reasons for such a division are quite unconvincing. This
is the sort of unnatural analyses which brings the search for strophic structure
into disrepute.
O'Connor goes one step further in that he posits the existence of units of
standard length which can be found in many different poems (ch. 10). His two
basic units are the stave of 26-28 lines (occasionally up to 31) and the batch, usually
5-8 lines but with extremes of 1-12 lines. However his evidence for the existence
of these as standard units is weak. He starts by examining the Testament.of Jacob
(Gen. 49) and the Testament of Moses (Deut. 33). He claims that the former divides
into three units, each a stave long, and the latter divides into 4 units: a semistabe
(13 lines) followed by 3 staves. However O'Connor's reasons for grouping the 11
85
EAJT 14:2186
oracles in each Testmanet in this particular way are unconvincing - especially
as it involves splitting the oracle on Judah in two in Gen. 49 (p. 429). O'Connor's
attempt to show that the oracles of Balaam are based on a variation on standard
staves seems even more forced. He analyses the four parts of the oracles as follows:
Part
Part
Part
Part
I
II
III
IV
Num.
Num.
Num.
Num.
23:7-10
23:18-24
24:3-9
24:15-19
14
22
26
18
lines
lines
lines
lines
semi-stave
stave -4 lines
stave
semi-stave + 4 lines
This sort of approach by no means strengthens the case for the stave being a
standard unit, but merely illustrates that if you are looking for regularity you can
almost always find it if you are ingenious enough.
O'Connor's justification of the batch as a standard unit is mainly based on
subsections in Num. 24:3-9 and in ·some of the longer oracles in the Testaments
(p.456). This is a very narrow base on which to posit a standard unit. And the
justification for a regular·stave is even more dubious - only Balaam' s third oracle
represents an undisputed example. The fact that about half the poems in
O'Connor's limited corpus have total lengths which are multiples of 26-28 lines
(p. 456) does not imply that they are naturally divided up into equal units of that
length. But .once O'Connor has posited these standard units he then applies them
to almost all his poems, and it is clear that the divisions are made to fit the units
rather than the units springing from natural divisions in the poems. For example,
O'Connor's analysis of Ex. 15 (p. 473) differs substantially from that of Freedman,
and whereas the latter has its faults, it is preferable to that of O'Connor who
is working on the assumption that the poem must be made up of 2 equal staves
each made up of 4 batches. Generally O'Connor's approach does not refer much
to sense divisions - he claims the batches are marked off by tropes. But almost
any trope can be appealed to as evidence of batch division, so there is no
consistency. All in all, the analysis has a high degree of arbitrariness and the desire
to impose a fairly uniform structural system on all poems makes one doubtful
as to whether O'Connor's analysis of anyone poem really reflects the individual
structure of that poem or how much it is an inappropriate imposition of the alleged
standard system. Freedman's analyses are generally better, for although he is over
eager to fmd regularity, at least he allows each poem to have its own unique pattern
and .does not impose standard units on the poems.
I conclude that these attempts to discern a regular system of strophic structure
in Hebrew have made little convincing progress and that the views of Gray and
Gordis still hold the day.
Conclusion
An essential part of analysis is breaking something down into its essential
components. The soundness of the analysis depends on whether the divisions are
made in the right places. Deciding what units are fundamental and how they are
defined is a very important.part of the task. In analysing Hebrew poetry, much
of the debate centers around these questions.
The choice of fundamental component determines what the most important
divisions are to be. If the strophe were the most fundamental component, then
strophic divisions would be the most important, .and presumably most clearly
marked. As we have seen, except perhaps for some acrostic poems, this does not
seem to be the case.
86
EAJT / 4:2186
If the meter were the most fundamental component, then the division into
lines would be the most important. This is the case .with much poetry having a
regular meter and is why the stichographic arrangement of poetry is so widespread.
lJut deciding the lineation in Hebrew poetry is often problematical as we saw in
particular with O'Conner's approach, There is seldom adear meter to guide us,
~d . always the possibility of irregular lines. But if we accept .that meter is not
fundamental in Hebrew poetry, the line b~comes a somewhat meaningless unit,
since there is no longer a metric motivation for it.
I suggest that information structure ·is probably the most fundamental
component in Hebrew poetry. This implies that the most important divisions are
those isolating the information units, of which the most typical is the binary unit,
with two parallel·chunks of information. Other units would have a single chunk
(monoclon) or three (tricolon)or possibly more (e.g. 'mixing' trope) chunks of
information within the·one integrated unit. Hence I would agree with those who
s~e the bicolon (or equivalent unit), rather than the colon, as the more fundamental
llnit of Hebrew poetry. The latter choice (line = colon) tends to'be taken by some
who accept some sort of metric system. See Kugel's criticism (p. 320) of
O'Connor's approach which makes the colon the fundamental unit. Similarly
I suggest that Gordis' criticism of Freedman's abandoning the colon as the
fundamental unit (mentioned above p. 12) is unfounded.
Information units are defined mainly by syntactic criteria with semantic factors
having a secondary role. They tend to correspond with the seRtence, rather than
the clause. Hence further progress in understanding the structure of Hebrew poetry
will depend on a more comprehensive analysis of the Hebrew sentence, especially
the complex sentence, and especially with regard to its information structuring
functions. ·Other features of the ·sentence, such as rhythmic patterns, tense and
aspect patterns of verb sequence, and how sentences combine into higher unit
such as paragraphs or strophes, also need to be integrated into an overall
description, In this way, the large amount of valuable research which has already
been done on Hebrew poetry can be incorporated into a more satisfactory general
theory.
87
EAJT / 4:2186
APPENDIX
Classical Hebrew Poetry; A Guide to its Techniques by Wilfred Watson
represents the most recent comprehensive work on Hebrew poetry. Its aims are
(p. 2) "to give an account of the method and results of current scholarship... and
provide guidelines for further study' '. Since it represents a presentation of "the
present state of the art" it is worthwhile to single it out for more detailed critical
comment. After a few remarks on the overall organisation of the book, I will
concentrate on taking issue with various points of detail rather than giving a
critique of the overall theory. Such an approach is suitable because Watson's work
is mainly a survey of the work of many scholars in relation to many diverse aspects
of Hebrew poetry rather than being a tightly integrated theory such as those of
O'Connor or Kugel. The quality of the work thus stands or falls on the aptness,
clarity and discernment of the critical evaluation and presentation of many
suggestions, hypotheses and analyses of aspects of Hebrew poetry.
Watson admits (p. 2) that he found the problem of finding a systematic
arrangement of his material quite difficult. Indeed this is a weakness of the book:
whereas fdr about half the topics the arrangement is quite logical and helpful,
the material on parallelism, verse-patterns and poetic devices could be much
improved in this regard. Instead of having the poetic devices in arbitrary order
(as Watson admits p. 273) it would have been better to relate some of them to
their primary function and discuss them in the chapter assigned to that. Thus
envelope figures and refrains could be discussed in relation to stanza and strophe
(ch. 7). Repetition, ellipsis, abstract for concrete, merismus, the break-up of a
composite phrase and ballast variants could have been grouped under parallelism.
Enjambment belongs in a discussion of meter. This could have left devices such
as allusion, irony, oxymoron, hyperbole, hendiadys and rhetorical questions which,
being less structural in function, are best treated separately.
This rather unsystematic presentation is somewhat symptomatic of the lack
of a coherent theory that ties everything tQgether. But in a work like Watson's
it is a relatively minor failing and is compensated for by numerous cross references
and an adequate index.
Graver problems emerge in Watson's treatment of individual topics. Some
involve broader issues which have been treated at some length in the main body
of the essay. I will not focus on the general position Watson takes on each of
these issues. Rather I will look at some of the dubious categories, examples and
functions which he cites in relation to the broader issues.
Dubious categories
In his chapter on Analysing Hebrew Poetry Watson discusses indicators for
distinguishing prose and poetry (p. 44f). He lists 19 criteria. He indicates that
some of these are more powerful discriminators than others but I think a few
of them should not be on the list at all since they are useless in the task of
distinguishing the two narrative types. These are unusual vocabulary and regularity
& symmetry. Watson admits that unusual vocabulary can occur also with prose
(p. 49). Only "in conjunction with other factors" can it "point to the presence
of poetry. " But you could just as easily express it in the opposite way: that the
use of unusual technical terms is not indicative of prose but that in conjunction
88
EAJT/4:2/86
with other (prose) factors, the use of rare lexical items can point to the presence
of prose. It is actually the other factors which are determinative; the unusual
vocabulary should not play any role in this regard.
Regularity & symmetry is a rather vague category. Watson exemplifies this
by Qoh. 3:1-9 but one could arguably find regularity and symmetry in many types
of lists. Either one would have to argue that all symmetrical lists are poetic or
else one would appeal to other factors to differentiate, in which case the factor
of regularity and symmetry is not really distinguishing.
Another unnecessary category of criteria is gender~matched parallelism. Since
Watson has already rightly listed parailelism as a criterion·it is odd to make this
a separate category. Apart from this, the significance of gender-matched parallelism
as a separate type of parallelism is very questionable. Watson lists 6 .different
patterns under this heading (p. 123f.), which involve the genders of pairs of nouns
in adjacement colons ·of a bicolon. These are:
m + ml If + f
m + film + f
m + fI/f + m
f + ml If + m
f + mllm + f
f + film + m
The question is as to whether the occurence of one of these patterns in a text
was a deliberate and intentional part of a poetic system utilizing gender-matching
or whether it was the unintentional effect of random combination of nouns. Since
there are only two choices of gender and we have four items in each bicolon, the
probability of the occurence of any one of the above patterns purely by chance
would be 1124 = 1116. Since there are 6 different patterns, the probability of
the occurence of gender-matched parallelism purely by chance would be 3/8. Thus
we would expect such patterns to occur about 30 - 40070 of the time anyway.
Only if it is shown that such patterns occur much more frequently than this in
a particular poem would one have evidence that this was a device used deliberately
by the Hebrew poet. Mere citation of examples proves nothing. Until such statistical
evidence is put forward I would prefer the view that the parallelism is based on
the semantic or syntactic relationship between the two colons, for which there
is abundant evidence, and that the significance of such morphological patterns
remains very dubious.
Dubiolls examples
In a book aiming at a clear concise presentation it is particularly important
that examples cited are prototypical exemplifications of the categories posited.
Unfortunately in a number of places some of Watson's examples do not seem
to fit the category they are meant to illustrate.
In ·his discussion of meter, Watson puts forward a few arguments in favour
of the stress theory of meter (p. 99f). One of these is the alleged presence of silent
stress which makes a 3 + 2 pattern become equivalent to 3 + 3. Watson then
cites the English limerick pattern as an example of silent stress~ He claims that
the third and fourth lines of the limerick end with silent stress. Unfortunately
this is incorrect. It is really the first, second and fifth line of a limerick which
end.in silent stress. Watson's limerick should.be scanned as follows:(I marking
stress; cb marking silent .stress)
.
Total
Hebrew poems are not just a mess,
4
I
I
I
nor is this, we hope, a mere guess.
4
I
I
I
89
EAJT / 4:2/86
They may not have rhyme
/
/
but you'll find every time
IF /
/
that the poets. composed under stress
2)
)
+)
4
2)
/
/
/ xi
4
Thus the limerick is basically a 4 x 4 structure with the short third and fourth
lines together being the equivalent of one of the longer lines. This accords with
Halliday's analysis that English uses feet in multiples of two. If you read it with
pauses atthe end of the third and fourth lines as Watson maintains, it would
sound quite odd.
It maybe asked that if Watson ~annot correctly identify silent stress in a living
spoken language like English, how can we rely on his alleged identification of
it in Hebrew? This is not to say that there is no silent stress in Hebrew - doubtless
there was. But a much more careful analysis is needed if we are to be able to
discern the rhythmic system.
Another feature which Watson cites in relation to meter is enjambment (p.
332f). He defines it as when a sentence or clause runs over into the next colon.
His first example is Lam 1:7 for which he presents the following lineation:
'i'n.1D C"lIn'H' Saw her, did the enemies; mocked
nn:JVl7,)?Y
at her sorry. state.
He claims that the metre (3 + 2) shows the poetic line to end at 'they mocked';
But this is an extremely unlikely analysis. Normally the meter is measured after
one works out the lineation on parallelistic or syntactic · grounds, It is bad
methodology to impose such an unnatural break on the basis ()f a theoretically
assumed meter. The only possible justification would be if that particular metric
pattern was so strongly established in the environment that it imposed itself on
this recalcitrant bicolon. But in fact, if stresses · are assigned in a systematic
consistent way to the first 8 verses of Lamentations it will be found that almost
half of the bicolons do not have a 3 + 2 patten. This is insufficient to establish
a uniform pattern which can be imposed willy-nilly on everything .in its. path.
Instead of splitting the clause as Watson does, one should rather accept this bicolon
as 2 +3 or 2 + 2. Fortunately Watson's other examples of enjambmenf respect
the natural division of the bicolons.
Word-pairs
It is dangerous to read into the text what the author's intention was without
convincing evidence. Watson claims (p. 139) that within. word-pairs used in
parallelism, quite often only one. of them is intended. But his examples of this
phenomenon do not convince. He cites ·Prov. 4:3
I..L L,U,L I,GC, NCh ForI was a son to my father,
c:, CL L!" U, I, N c: dender ~nd alone before my mother.
and claims that only 'father' is intended. Butin fact we can assert that the reference
to his mother is significant, for the fact that he was alone before her emphasises
his young age before she had any other children. While it is true that the father
has greater focus it is too extreme to say that ·the mother is mentioned ·merely
because of a stock formula. Similarly with regard to Amos 6:1 1"1I:J C'llHVln ',n Woe to those whoare at ease in Sion,
1 "010 ,n:J D'nO:Jn, and to those feeling secure on Samaria's mountain
90
EAJT / 4:2186
Even if the assumption thatthe prophecy is directed (only) at Samaria is true,
it is presumptuous to deny any significance to the mention of Sion. The factthat
the warning is evenhanded may be quite significant. The other verses cited by
Watson are also unconvincing. Hence the occurence of this phenomenon is thrown
into doubt.
Ellipsis
Watson defines ellipsis as the omission of an element within a poetic or
grammatical unit, where its presence is expected or demanded by the context (p.
303-304). He illustrates it from Ps. lOO. He admits that the absence of adverbs
in v.1, 4c & 4d does not necessarily imply ellipsis. The clear cases of ellipsis he cites
are the ellipsis of 'enter' in v. 4b and 'Yahweh' in verse 3b. Whereas the former
is a bona fide example, the latter is debatable. Just because 'Yahweh' occurs in
v. 3a, does that mean it is expected in v.3b? In fact the hw' in both verse 3a and
3b. functions as.a pronominal substitute·for 'Yahweh' so it is a case of substitution,
not ellipsis. In any case, omission of noun subjects in Hebrew is a very dubious
candidate for ellipsis since the subject is marked morphologically in the verb, or
in this case in the hw'.
Thus even though Watson has six 1J symbols in his tabulation of Psalm 100,
onlyone of them represents a clear case of ellipsis. Watson's claim that this psalm
is an excellent example of ellipsis on a large scale is therefore hard to maintain.
Irony
Watson defines an ironical statement as being one in which the literal
significance is precisely the opposite of what must be understood (p. 306-307).
However he confllses the issue .by failing clearly to distinguish in his examples
between such irony as a figure of speech and the different sense of irony in relation
to an ironical situation which is one where something unexpected happens. Even
though he mentions situational irony, he does not defme it, but in fact misleadingly
equates it with 'dramatic irony', the latter being a situation in which the audience
knows what is going on butthe characters in the drama donot.
First Watson gives some good examples of irony as a figure of speech, e.g.
Amos4:4-5; ·1 Kings22:15~ But then his examples switch to ironical situations
without a clear indication that a different phenomenon is involved~ So Jer. 3:2,21,23
are cited as an example of ironic language because fertility is sought on the 'bare
heights', This is an ironic situation, but it is not irony as a figure of speech. Watson
cites Is. 14:12 as another example of ironic intent.
He translates:
C';~'!lIJ n?:iJ
1'" How you have fallen from heaven,
Helel Son of Dawn
.
(How) you've been cut down to the ground
helpless on your back!
He claims that a comparison with the Gilgamesh. Epic can makeone aware of
ironic intent. But it is hard to.see what the irony is here. It is certainly not irony
as a figure of speech - the meaning is not the opposite of the. literal meaning.
The situation could be called ironic only if one considers it unexpected for one
who was so high to become so low. But that would make any reversal affortunes
ironic, which is surelyextendin~ the meaning of the term too .much.
1:1 77'M
Cc)'u 7Y tu7," Y'K7 nY'l.l
'n'.!I
Watson claims the )!.;.;, ill MiC. 7:1 is an ironic reference to an Akkadian
exclamation of joy at harvest (alali). This is possibly an eXample of an ironic
91
EAJT / 4:2/86
situation but it is not irony as a figure of speech. It would be better to say .that
the veiled' ~llusion to the Akkadian phrase might bring out the irony of the
situation.
Finally WatsoIi cites Jdg. 5:30 as an exainple of dramatic irony, which indeed
it is. But he also labels it situational irony, a label which would have been better
reserved for the previous examples.
Irony is a tricky subject because the word has a number of different senses.
A clear distinction and differentiation of definitions and examples is needed if
the phenomena are to be clarified rather than confused. Watson's treatment does
not achieve this.
Dubious functions
An admirable feature of Watson's approach is his concern not merely to
enumerate all the different types of poetic devices, but to evaluate the functions
of each device. This is a much needed emphasis - the weakness of some extensive
tabulations of types and sub-types as exemplified by the analysis of Geller is that
they give inadequate attention to the function of all the various types. Functional
distinction should be an important guide to which subclassifications are the most
relevant and helpful.
Unfortunately, however, the particular functions that Watson assigns to
particular devices are often · rather dubious. Part of the problem is a failure to
distinguish adequately between a prototypical function of a device or form which
can be regarded as partly encoded within it, and the incidental use of a form
or device in conjunction with a certain function, where the function is really the
manifestation of some other linguistic element, not the device in question. So,
if a particular device is used- at the beginning of a poem, one needs to discern
whether this is a prototypical use of that device (and hence usefully called a
function of that device) or whether it is incidental - that this device is equally
likely to occur anywhere within the poem and just happens to be at the beginning;
or conversely that one could have chosen any particular device to open the poem
and one just happened to choose this one. In this latter case it would be somewhat
misleading to cal.I :opening a poem' a function of the device. It is better to reserve
'function' fpr cases where the choice of that particular device has a signifi,cant
link with the particular meaning or structural effect desired at that point. The
presence of such a significant link between function and device can be shown
either by distribution or by an intrinsic suitability or match between the form
and the function or meaning.
Watson's problem is that many of the things he calls 'function' of particular
devices would be better seen as incideI:1tal uses of them, since no significant link
can be demonstrated. Watson mentions the following devices as having the function
of opening a stanza or section:· monocolon, tricolon, chiasm us, staircase
parallelism, pivot-pattern, simile, rhetorical question, ballast variant. Except for
the last item, all of these, with the addition of alliteration, are also mentioned
as having the function of closing a stanza or section. In addition, chiasmus,
monocolonand simile are given the function of segmenting or linking sections.
When you consider that many poems or stanzas also begin and end with patterns
other than those listed, it seems more likely that many of these are incidental uSes
rather than functions per se. This is especially the case for patterns like chiasmus,
pivot-pattern or ballast variant where it is very hard · to see any intrinsic
appropriateness between the form and the opening Or closing function. One would
need .some statistical evidence to show otherwise.
.
92
EAJT / 4:2186
An evaluation of Watson's assignment of function is best done by looking
at some devices individually.
Gender-matched parallelism (p. 125)
Watson .lists the following functions: to express merismus, to heighten
antithesis, to express harmony, emphatic denial or affirmation, to express
inevitability, to emphasize an unusual event, to denote destruction, to portray
inversion of state, to improve parallelism. Such a diversity induces scepticism as
to whether these are functions of the form per se. Except for the last item it is
clear that all these fu"nctions are achieved by the semantic relationships of the
particular words involved in each case, and that the gender matching neither adds
to nor subtracts from the effect. Only the aesthetic function of improving the
parallelism is a realistic candidate for a real function.
Chiasmus (p. 205f)
Besides the structural functions mentioned above, Watson lists the following
expressive functions for chiasmus: merismus, reversal of existing state, emphatic
negation or prohibition, antithesis or contrast. However it is questionable whether
the chiasmus is to be linked to the content of the ideas expressed; rather its function
is related to the balance between the two particular ideas, irrespective of what
they happen to express. Andersen's suggestion (1974:121) that chiasmus gives a
single picture of two simultaneously occurring aspects of the ·same situation is
much more helpful as an explanation of the function of chiasm us. For reversal
of state, antithesis etc. can easily be expressed by many Qther patterns as well.
In fact Andersen (1974:122) suggests that chiasmus subdues antithesis. It may be
that merismus is a valid example since the two items representing extremes would
typically be presented as concomitant - two sides of the same coin.
Wordplay (p. 245)
Watson lists the following functions: to amuse and sustain interest, to assist
composition, to lend authenticity, to link a poem or its parts, to denote reversal,
to show appearance can be deceptive, to distract mourners in laments, to assist
memory. The first four are quite reasonable, the last two are possible, though
debatable, but the functions of denoting reversal and showing appearance to be
deceptive again are examples of confusing function with the content which happens
to be expressed by the device in question. These meanings are conveyed by the
semantic values of the words need - the wordplay functions to sustain interest
or render the meaning, whatever it may be, more striking and memorable.
Further examples could be given of similar dubious assignment of function.
On the other hand, Watson's analysis of the functions of some devices is quite
sound, for example, word-pairs, number parallelism, triple synonym, acrostics,
onomatopoeia. It is to be hoped that future work in this area will follow Watson's
lead, keeping the good and improving on the bad.
While Watson's work can be faulted with respect to its critical judgment,
it still serves as a very useful survey of the current state of scholarship. Its wide
coverage and abundant bibliographic information make it a helpful reference work.
Some of its faults are more a reflection of the weaknesses of the overall approach
of a majority of scholars rather .than being those of Watson in particular. The
approach to meter, stanza and strophe, and parallelism are cases in point. Until
a more convincing integrated general theory is worked out which can adequately
deal with these and other phenomena, a satisfactory account of the techniques
of Hebrew poetry will be unattainable.
93
EAJT / 4:2186
References
Andersen, El. (1974) The sentence in Biblical Hebrew. The Hague: Mouton.
Andersen, El. & Forbes, A. D. (1983) "Prose Particle" Counts of the Hebrew
Bible. In C. L. Meyers & M. O'Connor (eds.) The Word of the Lord shall
go forth; Essays in honor of David Noel Freedman in celebration of his sixtieth
birthday.Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns. p. 165-183.
Andersen, El. ·& Freedman, D. N. (1980) Hosea. (AB) Garden City: Doubleday.
Brown, G. & Yule, G. (1983) Discourse Analysis. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Cross, EM. & Freedman, D. N. (1975) Studies in ancient Yahwistic poetry.
Missoula, Montana: Scholars Press.
Freedman, D. N. (1980) Pottery, poetry, ·and prophecy; studies in early Hebrew
poetry. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns.
GelIer, S. A. (1979) Parallelism in early Biblical poetry. Missoula, Montana:
Scholars Press.
Gordis, R. (1978) The book of Job; commentary, new translation and special
studies. New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America.
Gray, G. B. (1972) The forms of Hebrew poetry. KTAV Publishing House
Halliday, M.A.K. (1970) Language structure and language function. In John Lyons
(ed.), New horizons in linguistics. Harmondsworth: Penguin.
'
HaIIiday, M. A. K. (1985) An introduction to functional grammar. London:
Edward Arnold.
Halliday, M. A. K. & Hasan, R. (1976) Cohesion ill English. London: Longman.
Kerbrat-Orecchioni, C. (1977) La connotation. Lyon; Presses Universitaires
de Lyon.
Kugel, J. L. (1981) The idea of Biblical poetry; parallelism and its history. New
Haven: Yale University Press.
Lowth, R. (1971) Lectures on the sacred poetry of the Hebrews. Voll & 2. New
York: Garland Publishing.
Lyons, J. (1977) Semantics. Vol. 1. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
O'Connor, M. (1980) Hebrew verse structure. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns.
Watson, W. G. R (1984) Classical Hebrew poetry; a guide to its techniques.
Sheffield: JSar Press.
94