Rashi Part 9

CHAPTER IX

WORKS COMPOSED UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF RAs.h.i.+

After having pa.s.sed in review the works which are the result of Ras.h.i.+'s own labor and which have come down to us in the shape in which they emerged from his hands, or nearly so, several works remain to be described that present a double character; they did not spring directly from Ras.h.i.+'s pen, but were written by his pupils under his guidance, or, at least, as the result of his inspiration and influence. They have reached us in altered form, amplified, and sometimes improved, sometimes spoiled by various authors. The confusion reigning in these works has contributed toward an inexact appreciation of their function. From the first they were meant to be compilations, collections of rules, rather than works having a specified object.

To point out the fact once again, Ras.h.i.+'s pupils became his collaborators; and, it must be added, they established a veritable cult of their master. They neglected nothing concerning him; they carefully noted and piously recorded his slightest deed and gesture, on what day they had seen him, under what circ.u.mstances, how he felt that day, and how he conducted himself at the table. When a case similar to some previous one arose, they contented themselves with referring to the former and reproducing the discussion to which it had given rise.

It is to this veneration, bordering on religious devotion, that we owe the preservation of Ras.h.i.+'s Responsa and Decisions. Some entered into the collections of the Babylonian Geonim, - a fact which shows how highly people regarded the man who was thus ranked with the greatest rabbinical authorities, - but most of them formed the basis of several independent works: the Sefer ha-Pardes (Book of Paradise), the Sefer ha-Orah (Book of Light?), the Sefer Issur-we-Heter (Book of Things Prohibited and Things Permitted), and the Mahzor Vitry. The first work was edited at the beginning, the last, at the end, of the nineteenth century, and part of the second was introduced into the first by the editor of the first. The whole of the second has just been published by Mr. Solomon Buber. The third work, which offers many resemblances to the Mahzor Vitry, is still in ma.n.u.script; but Mr. Buber has recently promised us its publication in the near future, as well as a Siddur, or ritual, of Ras.h.i.+, related to the Mahzor Vitry and to a Sefer ha-Sedarim.

In all these collections it is sometimes difficult to determine what is Ras.h.i.+'s handiwork, or which of his pupils is responsible for certain pa.s.sages. The composition of the works is, in fact, original and merits brief characterization.

The Sefer ha-Pardes, though commonly attributed to Ras.h.i.+ himself, cannot possibly have been his work, since it contains rules, decisions, and Responsa made by several of his contemporaries, and even by some of his successors. Among others are additions by Joseph Ibn Plat or his disciples (second half of the twelfth century). But in respect of one of its const.i.tuent elements, it was a creation of Ras.h.i.+'s. It was formed, in fact, by the fusion of two collections. The author of the one containing the customs of the three cities of Speyer, Worms, and Mayence, must have been one of the Machirites; while the author of the other, comprising Ras.h.i.+'s practices and Responsa, must have been his disciple Shemaiah.[129]

The Sefer ha-Pardes is a widely-read book, and it has been used, sometimes under other t.i.tles, by the greater number of legal compilations made in France and Germany. It pa.s.sed through various redactions, and the one now extant is not the most complete.

The Sefer ha-Orah, the redaction of which is sometimes attributed, though wrongly so, to Nathan haMachiri, is a compilation of several works, which seem to have been written in Spain at the beginning of the fourteenth century. It consists of two princ.i.p.al elements; the first, German in origin, is similar to the Pardes now extant; the second is the work of the Spaniard, Judah ben Barzillai, of Barcelona (twelfth century). It is, of course, in the first that one finds fragments of works which date back to the disciples of Ras.h.i.+.

The Mahzor Vitry is a more or less h.o.m.ogeneous work. It contains rules of jurisprudence and of religious practice, Responsa by Ras.h.i.+, by his predecessors, and by his contemporaries, prayers and liturgic poems, "Minor" Talmudic treatises, the whole divided into chapters following the yearly cycle, and bearing upon the various circ.u.mstances of life. The work contains many additions due to Isaac ben Durbal, or Durbalo, who visited the countries of Eastern Europe and was the disciple of Rabbenu Tam (about 1150). He is wrongly considered to be the redactor of the Mahzor Vitry. The author of the work is, without doubt, Simhah ben Samuel, of Vitry, a disciple of Ras.h.i.+ (about 1100), who availed himself, moreover, of the works of other pupils of the master.

The Mahzor Vitry is of great importance not only for the historian of Ras.h.i.+, but also for the historian of Franco - Jewish culture and literature at that time. The same may be said of the Sefer ha-Pardes. Yet this material must be used with the utmost caution; for it has come to us in a sad condition, disfigured by the compilers and copyists, who introduced elements from various sources and different epochs. The original works disappeared during the persecutions and autos-da-fe which followed one another in France and Germany. The redactions now extant come from Spain and Italy.

These short a.n.a.lyses may give an idea of the collections not yet edited; for they all stand in relation one with the other, and are in great part formed of the same elements and derived from the same material.

CHAPTER X

POETRY ATTRIBUTED TO RAs.h.i.+

Almost immediately upon the birth of liturgical poetry in the time of the Geonim, an ill.u.s.trious representative arose in the person of Eleazar ha-Kalir,[130] who came to exercise a profound influence upon his successors, and in Ras.h.i.+'s day this poetry attained a high degree of development. That was the time when Jews, instead of merely listening to the officiating minister, commenced to accompany him with their voices in antiphonal chants.

Like most of the rabbis of his time, Ras.h.i.+ wrote liturgical poems, the number of which Zunz, with more or less surety, places at seven. Three are still preserved in some rituals. According to Luria, Ras.h.i.+ composed more than this number.

It is fair to question whether a Talmudist is fas.h.i.+oned to be a poet, and whether it is possible for love of discussion and dialectics to accord with poetic sensibility and imagination.

Indeed, the liturgical poetry of the Jews of France and Germany has not the least artistic value. It shows neither concern for originality, nor knowledge of composition, and the poets were strangers to the conception of art and beauty. Moreover, they imposed upon themselves rather complicated rules, the most simple forms adopted being rhyme and acrostic. Sometimes they accomplished veritable feats of mental gymnastics, whose merit resided in the mere fact that a difficulty was overcome. Too often a play upon words or alliteration takes the place of inspiration, and ideas give way to fact.i.tious combinations.

These defects disappear in a translation, which is all the more acceptable for the very reason that it does not reproduce the vivid coloring of the original. The following, recited on the Fast of gedaliah (az terem nimteju (Alef zayin, Mem resh Final_Mem, Nun mem Tav Het Vav)), may serve as an example.

Ras.h.i.+ uses certain Midras.h.i.+m in it which describe the throne of G.o.d and the heavenly court. Such poetry as there is - and there is some - is overlaid and submerged by the slow development of the thought and the painfully detailed enumerations, strongly reminiscent of the Bible. It should be said that the language of Ras.h.i.+ is far simpler than that of his contemporaries.

Before yet the clouds were gathered in a canopy, Before yet the earth was rounded as a sphere, Thou didst prepare seven in Thy abode: The sacred Law, the splendid throne, the backslider's return, Paradise in all its beauty, and insatiable h.e.l.l, The atonement place for sacrificial offerings, And the resplendent name of him who delays to come because of all our sins.

Two thousand years before our globe were these, Set as jewels in the sky, whence earthward gleamed their light; In the realms above they ready stand round Him enthroned between the Cherubim.

Firm established is the heavenly throne for the King supreme Whose glory is shed upon all within His presence: By His right hand the Law engraved with flaming letters He caresses like a child beloved.

Toward the south lies the ever-fragrant Garden, h.e.l.l with its ever-burning flames to the north, Eastward Jerusalem built on strong foundations, In the midst of it the sanctuary of G.o.d, And in the sanctuary the altar of expiation, Weighted with the corner-stone of the world, Whereon is graven the Messiah's holy name Beside the great Ineffable Name.

In the centre [center sic] before Him who is the source of all blessings stands Repentance, The healing balm for the suffering and afflicted soul, Appointed to remove each blemish, array the repentant in unsoiled garments, And pour precious oil on the head of sorrowing sinners.

Thus we all, both old and young, appear before Thee.

Wash off our every taint, our souls refine from every sin.

Backsliding children, we come to Thee as suppliants, Seeking Thee day by day with humble, urgent prayers.

Account them unto us as blood and fat of offerings, Like sacrificial steers and rams accept our contrite words.

O that our sins might be sunk in abysmal depths, And Thy brooding infinite mercy bring us near to Thee.

In the first part of this poem the imagination displayed cannot be said to call forth admiration either by reason of fertility or by reason of brilliance. Any ordinary student of the Talmud and the Midrash might have produced it. Nevertheless Ras.h.i.+ awakens a certain sort of interest, it may even be said that he touches the emotions, when he pours out all his sadness before G.o.d, or rather - for his grief is impersonal - the sadness of the Jew, the humble sinner appealing to the mercy of G.o.d. When his feelings rise to their most solemn pitch, their strong pulsations visible through the unaccustomed poetic garb, the cloak of learned allusions drops of itself, and emotion is revealed under the strata of labored expressions. All the poems by Ras.h.i.+ belong under the literary form called Selihot, penitential psalms, recited on fast days.

What has been said of the first specimen quoted applies equally to the next (Hashem Elohei Hatzevaot Bore Baolionim (Yod Yod, Alef Lamed He Yod, He Tsadi Bet Alef Vav Tav, Bet Vav Resh Alef, Bet Ayin Lamed Yod Vav Nun Yod Final_Mem)), for the eve of the Day of Atonement. It would have been more effective, had there been less emphasis and a more consecutive development of the thought.

... Of all bereft we appear before Thee, -- Thine is the justice, ours the sin, -- Our faces flushed with shame we turn to Thee, And at Thy gates we moan like doves.

Vouchsafe unto us a life of tranquil joy, Purge us of our stains, make us white and pure.

O that our youthful faults might vanish like pa.s.sing clouds!

Renew our days as of old, Remove defilement hence, set presumptuous sins at naught; The purifying waters of truth sprinkle upon us, For we confess our transgressions, we rebellious, faithless children.

O that a contrite spirit, a broken, repentant heart Be acceptable to Thee as the fat of sacrifices!

Accomplish for the children Thy promise to the fathers.

From Thy celestial abode hearken unto us who cry to Thee!

Strengthen the hearts of those inclined to pay Thee homage, Lend Thy ear unto their humble supplication.

Yet once more rescue Thy people from destruction.

Let Thy olden mercy speedily descend on them again, And Thy favored ones go forth from judgment justified, -- They that hope for Thy grace and lean upon Thy loving-kindness.

The final specimen (tefilah lekadma (Tav Pe Lamed He, Lamed Qof Dalet Mem Final_Nun) is still more pathetic in its tearful contrition. The last lines even rise to unusual beauty when they point down a s.h.i.+ning vista of happy, serene days.

At morn we order our prayers, and wait to offer them to Thee.

Not sacrificial rams we bring to Thee, but hearts contrite and tender.

O that the tribute of our lips might plead our cause, When suppliants we stand before Thy threshold, watching and waiting.

The early dawn awakens us, and our faces are suffused with shame.

Our hearts beat fast, we whisper softly, hoa.r.s.e and weary with calling on Thee.

We are cast down, affrighted, -- Thy judgment comes.

To Thy teaching we turned deaf ears, And unto evil were seduced.

Rebellious were we, when Thou camest to guide us aright, And now we stand abashed with lowered eyes.

Our ruin Thou didst long past see -- Is Thy fiery wrath still unappeased?

We sinned in days agone, we suffer now, our wounds are open, Thy oath is quite accomplished, the curse fulfilled.

Though long we tarried, we seek Thee now, timid, anxious, --we, poor in deeds.

Before we perish, once more unto Thy children join Thyself.

A heavenly sign foretells Thy blessing shall descend on us.

Brute force is shattered, and with night all round about, Thy affianced spouse, loving, yearning, Calls on Thy faithfulness; she pleads with her eyes, and asks, is still she Thine, Is hers Thy love for aye?

The uniformity and monotony of this poetry, it must be admitted, weary the reader. The author never goes beyond a narrow circle of ideas, and general ideas at that. It is impossible to make out whether the allusions are to contemporaneous events, the persecutions connected with the First Crusade, for instance, or whether they refer to the ancient, traditional wrongs and sufferings. Nowhere is Ras.h.i.+'s poetry relieved by a touch of personal bias. It cannot be denied, however, that the poems testify to a fund of sincerity and enthusiasm, and that is noteworthy in a period of literary decadence, when it often happens that sincerity of sentiment fails by a good deal to find sincere expression for itself. Esthetic inadequacy should by no means be taken as synonymous with insincerity. Ras.h.i.+ proves, that without being an artist one can be swayed by emotion and sway the emotions of others, particularly when the dominant feeling is sadness. "The prevailing characteristic of Ras.h.i.+'s prayers," says Zunz, the first historian of synagogue poetry as well as the first biographer of Ras.h.i.+, "is profound sadness; all of them are filled with bitter plaints." Finally, if the Selihot by Ras.h.i.+ fall far short of our idea and our ideal of poetry, they at least possess the interest attaching to all that relates to their ill.u.s.trious author.

BOOK III

THE INFLUENCE OF RAs.h.i.+

CHAPTER XI

FROM RAs.h.i.+'S DEATH TO THE EXPULSION

OF THE JEWS FROM FRANCE