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(Consider the
following for a sample paper, with extensive notes for revision: a rough draft
and final paper)
The
Bible as Literature Paper
I.
How To Prepare an Essay for This Class
What follows my introductory material here
represents a bad paper. It stands as a type of writing
where the author “gushes” out everything he or she has to say, not paying heed to any outline
form or any preparation. I offer all of this lengthy
effort in order to make a point. Before reading the
paper, we need to establish some fundamentals about writing papers, ANY papers, on the college
level.
Essentially two forms of writing preparation
exist:
1) where we first
“free-write”; that is, we put anything down on paper, with no attempt to make complete sentences
or to be grammatical: we make notes, we then attempt to organize those ideas so that all thoughts
that seem to have any correspondence or similarity are linked together, and those that seem
“orphaned” on the paper are omitted. We then
attempt to establish some sense to our notes, make some sort of organized plan to follow—often an
outline—and then attempt to follow the plan, editing the finished product as may be necessary
2) A second way of
writing papers means doing the following: we “gush” out our thoughts by writing.
We may not know where we’re headed, but the very act of taking notes, writing ideas, or
attempting to write the essay (always bearing in mind that this represents a draft, not a finished
product) gives us additional ideas. We don’t know
what we know until we begin actively to write.
Next, we need to realize that all papers
following a basic three-part structure:
1. Why
am I writing this paper? (What we refer to as the
Introduction)
2. How
will I prove my contention? (What we call the Body of
the paper)
3. What
have I said? (This represents the Conclusion)
For the explanations to follow let me change
my pronouns and get more personal with you. In
this three-part structure, obviously the Body of the paper will entail the most material and most
writing. However I may choose to begin my effort,
whether by number 1 or 2 above, the trick remains to have four sentences that represent a
synthesized view of the work. That means that you need
to be able to write one sentence (your first) that follows the pattern of “I intend to argue that
_______________, because ____________.” Notice that
in filling in those blanks, you not only state your argument, your thesis, but also the particular
or specific of your thesis—the “because.” Crucial to a good paper, the “because” keeps you from straying too far into
generalities. Most of us choose subjects that would
require a book, at the least, to cover the subject as opposed to a ten-page paper on a particular topic.
Learn the difference: a subject means a general area, while a topic means a more narrowly
defined focus for concentration.
Common sense would seem to dictate that the
only way to write ten pages on a topic would be to start big; however, just the opposite is true.
Common sense, like many things, is not always as apparent as you may think.
The more you wish to say about something the more specific you must be.
I may be able to describe a tree from a hundred yards away, but if I begin big I have nowhere
to go, and I’ll have concluded and said all I have to say within my Introduction: “It has
leaves, seemingly green, a trunk, which appears to be brown, and on occasion I see birds flying into
and out of it. That’s the biggest problem with papers
that have too broad a range—the introduction says it all and you have nowhere to go.
Now get closer and more particular: the trunk isn’t brown but various in shades, it has
small creatures living on it and moving in and out, up and down, and the trunk has a strange texture
to it; as well, the leaves are not all the same shade of green—indeed, some of the leaves are not
that color; as for shape, no two seem identical. And,
as for the birds, I can now tell what kind they are, whether they “live” here or are just
visiting, what types, etc.
The other three sentences after the thesis
should represent your three arguments or statements you intend to prove in this paper.
Obviously, they must be related and you should put them in descending order of importance,
from first and most important, to the third, or what may be your weakest argument.
Don’t build up to a strong argument; papers are like first impressions: we rarely change
that first feeling, or, if we do, it comes at considerable time and effort.
Start strong and your audience will more often than not grant you weaker points if you’ve
convinced them about the strongest.
However you choose to work—from outline
and free-writing or from gushing it all out—the object of the second exercise in writing a paper
remains for you to come up with these four sentences. For
those who like to write first and get everything down, you need to go back and pencil in at the side
of your draft essay each point you’ve made in each paragraph.
You’ll be surprised at the repetition you find, or the absence of proper sequence when you
go back and just read from first to last the pencil marks in the right margin. Your object is no different than the person who begins with free-writing and an
outline. You need to come up with four statements, with
the first and strongest statement holding all three below it together—for those who
free-write, you’re looking for the strongest statement on your paper(s) to make your thesis,
organizing all else below it.
Don’t throw anything away: not the
free-writing or the gushed-out essay. You will
undoubtedly find ideas, sentences, and even words that are valuable.
Coming up with those four sentences, the first being your thesis, represents the most
valuable exercise in writing that paper. For our
purposes, if I were to begin with the bad, “gushed out” work below, I would go back and, after
having penciled in my right-hand margin notations, I would take a pair of scissors to the essay and
rearrange it like a puzzle, throwing out what doesn’t belong and combining bits and pieces (I like
to redo my work with scissors and then tape it back together, with notation in ink as to what needs
development, transition, or more cutting). For some of
us, it’s easier to cut down than to build up.
If given an assignment of how many pages you
must write, this is how to know before hand. For
example, if required to do a ten-page paper, I would assume that the Introduction and Conclusion
would entail no more than two pages; therefore, the body would need to be eight pages.
Because I have four sentences, the first sentence represents my Introduction; that means that
each of my three ideas needs to entail almost three pages each.
Therefore, I try to write “mini-essays” of three pages each on my three ideas.
It’s not difficult to use transitional words or to add a transitional sentence as needed to
connect all of this together. When I’m finished,
I’ll do the Conclusion—a synopsis of what I attempted to argue and how I made that argument.
Before turning to an actual essay, let me
explain the function of the first and final paragraphs or pages that we call the Introduction and
the Conclusion. The Introduction should serve to set up my argument.
Within the paragraph (or pages, for long papers) I need to state my thesis; everything
else in the Introduction explains or clarifies that sentence.
A thesis statement is only ONE sentence in length. So, the way to get a good Introduction is to look for words or ideas in your
thesis that you can explain in more detail. Having said
that, let me offer some warnings. First, the idea of
“warming up” your reading audience is nonsense. This
results, in fact, in trite background information with no value to the thesis.
Your thesis can come first in the paragraph—it should in your draft, because
everything that follows it MUST explain what you mean. If
you’re writing on the somewhat cloudy relationship between Ophelia and Hamlet in Shakespeare’s
play, bad writers begin with “Hamlet was written about 1601 by William Shakespeare.
The play is a tragedy….” What has any
of that to do with the Hamlet/Ophelia relationship? [To
look at a paper on this subject, and with this particular focus, look at the Shakespeare Survey
sample paper elsewhere on this site.]
Don’t warm up; get to the point.
Look for words that need more clarification or explanation.
But second, never use a dictionary definition of a word. This represents another harmful suggestion that results in bad writing.
It doesn’t matter how Webster’s Dictionary defines something; all that matters is
how YOU use the word. Words mean what we choose them to
mean, and our essay will use them in the manner we prescribe, and not the dictionary definition.
“Webster’s defines tragedy as …” reveals naïve writing—and, by extension,
thinking.
Finally, with regard to the Conclusion,
don’t do what I did in beginning this sentence. Don’t
use words such as “finally, In conclusion,” etc. for your Conclusion.
It would be equally bad to begin a paper with “This is my beginning….”
If you have a conclusion, it will be apparent to the reader.
If you do not, no amount of “final” phrases will change that.
Good Conclusions never introduce new material; nor do they merely repeat the Introduction. One of the best ways to conclude your paper is to re-read it, put it down, and
then try to say in one, good paragraph or page what took you nine pages to do previously.
That gives you a synopsis, not repetition.
II. A Sample Paper
[Always place your name, date, and
section on a paper’s first page in either the upper right or left margin; thereafter, include your
last name with the page numbers, also in the upper left or right margin.
Center your title; do not underline or place your paper’s title in italics, unless you
mention a work within your title; double-space the paper throughout, including quotations.
If quotations are more than four lines in length, set them off by indenting the paragraph 10
spaces (the first line of a paragraph should be indented by five spaces) and do not use quotation
marks; anything set off from your text is by definition a quote—use quotation marks within a
quote, beginning by single marks to denote a quote within your quote.
Then use a parenthetical citation after skipping two spaces from the quotation’s period.]
The
“Head/Heel” Trope of the J Writer: God’s Favorite Metaphor
[Is this title specific?
Titles are the first indication of a paper; thus, they importantly serve as first
“thesis” statements. Good titles can help a poor
thesis; poor titles can obscure them. When we do
research, we rely on titles to lead us the right direction.]
An obvious difficulty exists in
writing about any book of the Bible as literature as opposed to the divine, inspired word of God.
Not only does a bias exist with regard to the way some people perceive the narrations, the
covenants, the retelling of historical events, or the prophetic diatribes delivered against Israel,
Pharisees, or skeptics, a problem exists as well with what the Bible says.
Even though the Bible represents a collection of works recorded over eight hundred to one
thousand years, many read those collected works as one, unbroken record of God’s people who were
once Hebrews but now Christians. In the name of
literal, no nonsense communications from God to humanity, vast numbers of believers refuse to see
any literary qualities to Scripture. The collected
works we deem the Bible does not trade in metaphor; if it says it happened, so be it, without
figurative expression or allegorical intention.
[Nothing to this point on what the title promises; if it isn’t here yet,
how long will this paper be?]
For others, the Bible may represent
God’s message to the world, but these people appreciate the quality of the message, as revealed by
the perceptions, blemishes, viewpoints, and all-too-human qualities of the individuals chosen by God
for its telling. Certainly, it is difficult not to
believe that God has either a sense of humor or a fondness for human failings, given that all the
heroes of the Bible, save Jesus and the Apostle Paul, have feet of clay.
There are others who seem to lack frailty, of course—Joseph comes to mind, for
instance—but the larger picture of the collected books points to the failings of those such as
Moses, Aaron, Noah, Abraham, Jacob, David, Jonah, Peter, or the Apostles in general, who either
could not stay awake or did not grasp the urgency of the night prior to the crucifixion.
God apparently changed the nature of His servants when Paul saw the light on the Damascus
road. And this, we should note, was after the
Messiah appeared. The Christian church seems less
sympathetic to and reluctant to reveal Mankind’s flaws.
[Still no clear thesis; how long will this
thing be?]
Many find value in the Bible because
it is literature: it seems a recognizable record of a people, those who follow a single god and
ascribe all victories as well as punishments to the god’s chosen people’s foibles and strengths.
Christianity proclaims this very idea: Christ lived and suffered as God on earth in order to
understand our temptations, failings, and weaknesses, even as He represents a second chance—a new
Adam who welcomes us into as opposed to joining us beyond Paradise.
And those who read the Bible for its literary qualities feel most at home with those who
appreciate its humanity, for the literary qualities of the narrations of the collected books known
as the Bible are nothing if not wonderful indictments against the frailties of mankind and the
narrative journeys of those who attempt the more difficult, complex pathways that only the weakest
of flesh understand.
[To this point, I notice that we have weak heroes, divergent views on the Bible, and
something about the Bible as literature.]
No reason prohibits us from
believing in this inspired word even as we appreciate its characterizations, themes, plot
structures, generic distinctions, or rhetorical strategies. But
not everyone will permit so seemingly cavalier a viewpoint that allows for a latitude of human
nature but not in recorded testament: the recorded vagaries of individuals does not permit such
vagrant readings of what it all means. That demand for
literalizing has always seemed strange, given that Christ taught through parables, and even the
Apostle Paul, the no nonsense bulwark of early Christianity, said that the narrative of Abraham and
Sarah was allegorical. This is nothing short of
apostasy. But the reasons for all the above disunities
between readers of Scripture and readers of literature have more to do with cultural, societal, and
familial backgrounds than with scholarship or indiscriminate objectivity. The prolific literary critic Harold Bloom coined the term “facticity” to
describe the problem: we all think we know what the text says, any text, but upon reading it
more closely (at times, our first reading)
[always use parentheses sparingly, except for documentation—see
below—if it’s important enough to write, put it in the text; if it isn’t, remove it]
we find that it does not say what we have been led to believe.
Ask a group of adults to relate the narrative of Genesis, and somehow the rendering of the
days of the week, Adam, his rib-turned-wife, and Satan going after the weaker sex all get rolled
into one imperfect, disjointed narrative. And well it
might, since no such narrative exists in Genesis, but it takes interpretation to replace the Serpent
for Satan; interpretation, as many inerrant, literal believers will argue, cannot be applied to the facts
of Genesis. Thus we have interpretation becoming
inerrancy, which in turn becomes unquestioned truth.
[This paragraph has more about the Bible as literature; I may see some
pattern here, but if I do it’s for a book, not a paper.]
The value of literature should now
reveal itself, because as practiced, accomplished readers understand, literature speaks to the truth
of matters far better than historical “facts.” The
latter attempt to verify, literalize, and prove events that cannot be substantiated without a
belief in supernatural intervention and inspiration. Literature
makes no such assertions, maintaining rather that the emotions, ideas, tone, descriptions, and
totality of the narrative gives rise to something to which all people can identify without needing
to assert as truth—it’s as if truth manifests itself for all to see if it exists within
the words and descriptions of the narrator as received by auditors; if a narration fails to find an
audience, it fails the test. The qualities of truth
speak to us: we know it when we see it, or, to put it another way, we recognize it because it
“sets us free.” When you know bondage, no one need
describe freedom, but the sufferer will find words enough in figuration, metaphor, similes, and the
like to covey what that unfelt freedom must seem.
[More
literature…about all I can note.]
Even the so-called synoptic Gospels,
those of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, offer differing perspectives and highlight varying events
according to each writer’s sense of value. Does Mark
fail to appreciate the birth narratives of the Messiah, or is there a more immediate emphasis at
work here, one that begins with adulthood? Are the
precise words from the cross, and the order in which they emanate, important to the crucifixion of
Christ, or does the death hold more relevance?
[Each
paragraph must have an argument within it that argues the thesis statement: no paragraph is solely
for “information” or getting us from “here to there.” So,
what’s the point here?]
We may ask the same of the author of
the narration responsible for what we commonly refer to as “the Fall.”
In terms of literature, what may we find attractive in the retelling of free-will put to the
test of human willfulness, of the lonely creation heeding the request of his mate to do what he
knows he should not, or the entrance of an unexplained creature who deliberately deceives innocence
should that it know corruption? For want of a better
description, scholarship has taken to calling this writer “J,” for Jawist writer, since he
consistently uses the nonce word to stand for the unspoken, holy name of the Creator.
German scholarship of the late 18th and early 19th centuries began what
would in later times be known as the “Documentary Hypothesis,” ascribing to all the incompatible
writings of time and literary style to at least five authors of what, by tradition, had once been
ascribed, if uneasily, to Moses. For the sake of
brevity, we use here J as the writer—insisting on the literary as opposed to inspired
authorship—of this particular narration, noting that wherever this writer has been accorded
authorship, one particular trope, or extended, developed metaphor, always accompanies the story: in
some manner, the head becomes opposed to the heel.
[This is the first indication of more specific information: the J writer, scholarship, and
the idea of literary devices—what we call rhetorical or “persuasive” means for allowing us to
see an idea more clearly.]
The narration begins with Chapter 3,
a story that moves so easily and quietly into place that it mimics the creature it describes:
“Now, the serpent was the sliest of all the wild creatures that God Yahweh had made” (The
Anchor Bible: Genesis. Ed. E. A. Speiser).
[In-text
documentation is preferred for students of literature and many of the humanities; know what your
discipline prefers; but whenever you can briefly give this material parenthetically, as here, do so]
After the brief if sliest of narrative beginnings, the Serpent—capitalized because he
figures as a character in the narrative drama—immediately sets about to deceive the woman whom
Adam has named Eve: “Even though God told you not to eat of any tree in the garden….”
Here the woman correctly interjects that the Serpent slithers past the truth, as she notes:
“But we may eat of the trees…only about the fruit of the tree in the middle of the garden that
God did say” and she concludes with the punishment of death—for touching, much less eating.
No good reader can fail to note that the Serpent has begun with a rhetorical trick, that of
purposely exaggerating another’s point in order to attack it.
Once Eve corrects him, he is free to talk about that which she, not he, brought up: “You
are not going to die.” In this, again, the Serpent
speaks true, for when she does touch it, eat of it, offers it to her husband, apparently watches as
he does the same, it is incontrovertible that the two do not die.
[It only now becomes clear that the focus of
this essay will have to do with this author, the Bible as literature, and perhaps focus primarily
upon Genesis, Chapter 3.]
Now, however, we suspect that
Yahweh’s warning about something called “death” has various meanings: the results of their
covenant breaking with the Creator seems to mean that death may occur in something defined as
“finality” as opposed to “immediate.” But more
importantly, since death is not immediate, neither are the consequences.
Any child listening to a fairy tale pays close attention to warnings and their dire effects. In similar fashion, readers become more absorbed in the consequences than the
implied, deduced meaning behind a linguistic parallel to a physical symptom.
They not only do not die, but “the eyes of both were opened and they discovered that they
were naked,” just as the Serpent had promised: “your eyes will be opened and you will be the
same as God in knowing good from bad.”
[Another
bad paragraph because it stays within the suspected area of focus, but there’s no point to the
paragraph, other than to relate information within linking it to an argument.]
By this point, of course, readers
are apt to think there is a twist, if not a diabolical game, in what the Serpent says, because what
he tells the woman and what happens seem so remarkably close, if not for that small, yet portentous
and bothersome something that does not follow. It’s
what we call a “dubious syllepsis”: a student’s rhetoric problem: “All that I possess is
mine; I possess your pen; therefore, your pen is mine.” There’s
[determine the “level” of your diction:
will you write with contractions? How serious is the material with which you deal?
What are the advantages and disadvantages of being more “formal”?
Will you address everyone who reads this as “you” (second person) or a more formal third
person?] a nasty wrinkle here, if only we could logically
express it. But, I propose, the craft of the narration
deliberately leads us looking into wrong corners. It
isn’t how they fell, but what occurred when they did that matters. The J writer sets us up for this when we read such things as “they heard the
sound of God Yahweh as he was walking in the garden in the breezy time of the day.”
What is the sound of God as opposed to God? What
would that be? Why not “they heard God walking in the
garden”? Nor are we less bothered than the question
of God, “Where are you?” Their creator doesn’t know? These
are deliberate distractions, but touches meant to lead us into a greater interest in the narration.
[Some
interesting ideas are at work here, but is the focus upon the craftiness of the writer, the
craftiness of the Serpent, or the fallibility of Eve?]
Yahweh’s question is clearly
rhetorical, just as knowing as when he asks “Who told you that you were naked?”
But what become most important are the questions here. Yahweh
asks not only where they hide themselves, who told them about their nakedness, whether they ate of
the forbidden tree or not, but interrogates each one of the dramatists personae, beginning with Adam
and ending with the Serpent in demanding an answer. It
is here that we most concern ourselves with the text, for the Hebrew—admittedly translated from
the LXX—breaks into poetry, the language for beauty, value, purpose, and timelessness; it begins
in the middle of verse 14, “Because you did this…” and concludes at 19, “And to dust you
shall return!” These six poetical lines, I submit, represent the core of the narrative, most
especially verse 15.
[At
this point, we begin to wonder about the writer of the narrative, otherwise why would the
translation and what it offers be stressed?]
Verse 15 states, “I will plant
enmity between you and the woman, / And between your offspring and hers; / They shall strike at your
head, / And you shall strike at their heel.” To this
passage Martin Luther ascribed the first prophecy of Christ, the moment that John Milton would call
the felix culpa, the fortunate fall, which represents his poetic interpretation for
explaining the ways of God to man: it was indeed unfortunate that humanity failed; but that failure
permitted the saving grace of Christ to enter the world. But
in literary terms, we ask ourselves, why is this statement poeticized, and what is the image that it
creates for us? Moreover, is there figurative meaning
in the image, and, if so, why?
[More specifics—very late, but at least we’re getting something.]
Perhaps the poetry is easiest to
answer, since for most of civilization poetry has expressed rhythmically, those same rhythms of
nature, of body, of existence. And for most cultures,
since an oral tradition far surpasses in time that of a literate one, poetry makes the task of the scop,
or storyteller, easier by its repetitions and cadences, which, as well, makes the story easier for
the listen to recall. In societies where we find poetry
and prose mixed, much like Shakespeare’s energetic and rapidly changing stage, poetry signals the
important, and prose stands for the gross or lower state. Here
in Genesis, we have a moment for which Yahweh must pronounce the first punishment and disappointment
with regard to Creation. This section of the Creation
and Fall is certainly the most important,
[a very weak sentence opening; see below for the reasons]
given that it looks both backward and forward: “Because thou hast done this” begins the moment,
and “to dust you will return” concludes it. In
other words, we have cause and effect. If one thing exists that we cannot relate to in the story of Creation and
what preceded Adam, it must surely be that God’s speaking into existence a primeval chaos that
must then be set aright does not justify our sense of either cause or effect.
Why did Yahweh after whatever time relevant to eternity decide to create this world?
Why did not Yahweh, in the version of Creation that follows midway through verse four of
Chapter two know that Adam would be lonely? Why
the order of the account ascribed to “P,” wherein light precedes the sun or moon, or how to
account for “day” when the heavenly clock has not been set until after day three?
In other words, we cannot understand cause or effect because it remains beyond comprehension.
But Adam’s frailty and punishment does
register with humanity’s habits and recognitions.
[Lots of questions at work here; remember: never ask what you don’t
answer. Many questions irritate us and don’t argue
anything. And what’s the difference between a question in which the author doesn’t know
and when he or she is asking something rhetorically? If
the author doesn’t know, why is he showing that to us, the readers?
If it’s rhetorical, that supposes I know the answer as clearly as does he.
Do I?]
Thus
[Be
careful about using too many words such as “Thus” and “Therefore,” especially at the first
of a paragraph. These words suggest that a clear
summation—cause and effect—has been set forth; but this is a debater’s trick (or writer’s)
that implies a clear result when, in fact, there may have been none.
Too many of these irritate readers, whether something is proved or not.]
we have a poetical statement that identifies most easily for humanity as to the do’s and
don’t’s
[an awkward way of saying this; note
the contractions and possessives] of moral, ethical, or
imposed laws. And within this poetical passage, we pay
closest attention to the figurative concepts, because poetry functions through metaphor and visual
figure: the Serpent will slither on its belly, an image of dust, suggesting both death—as the
conclusion makes clear—and the clay from which Yahweh molded His creation.
So too, the image of the head suggests the Creator, who breathed the breath of life into the
creation, as well as that of authority, which is made clear once more with Eve’s punishment of
having to stand second to Adam’s authority. Colloquially,
we would say that this covers it, from “head to toe.”
[set off clichés and avoid overusing them]
So too, we find the J writer’s first strong image, grounded and set forth by poetry, that
the head/heel image will suffice to tell a story, that of God’s relationship to His creature.
The passage remains too strong an image, one clearly and skillfully set forth, to go
unnoticed. But J, of course, uses the metaphor on which
to build, for this is, in the older sense of the word, a “conceit,” an extended metaphor that
serves one purpose in many forms.
[This is the most concise information so far; tell this person to go
back from this point to the first of the paper and put everything into one or two paragraphs, with
ONE clear statement as to what he will argue.]
The distance between Yahweh and Man
in the other Genesis narratives continually suggests that the two grow farther apart after the Fall.
Yahweh visits the constructed tower—literally “comes down”—in order to inspect what
will be known as Babel; Yahweh closes the door on the ark meant to save His one, loyal creature.
These represent small moments that act as shifts in the rhythms of poetry until we arrive at
the most important of narratives, the rising emphasis upon Jacob, who will become father to the
nations of chosen people, and who represents the distinction between Yahweh and other gods of
Mediterranean people, clans, and eventually nations: Yahweh chooses His people, as opposed to Man
choosing his god. As twins, Jacob and Esau struggle in
the womb, with the second child, Jacob, literally holding onto his brother’s heel for a free ride
into the world. His name is etymologically related to
the Hebrew word “heel.” The name seems appropriate,
for Jacob manages to distinguish himself as one who is nothing if not clever: he takes advantage of
his boorish brother’s hunger in order to gain his own undeserved birthright; with his mother’s
help, for Rebecca favors Jacob over Esau, he manages to gain Isaac’s blessing, as the blind old
man feels about for the son he believes to be Esau, places his hand upon his head, and blesses the
heel. Even the deceived old Isaac adds to head/heel
metaphor, as he smells the stolen garments of Esau that Jacob wears and says “Ah, the smell of my
son is like the smell of the fields that the Lord has blessed.”
The ruse is complete when Jacob offers an impression of earth, the soil and dust to which
humanity has come and to which it is destined
[The material in this paragraph should be stated as “sentence #1 in
terms of listing my four sentences: I’ll take all the first paragraphs and rewrite (obviously
getting rid of a lot of background and useless information) that into an Introduction; this
paragraph is where I’ll begin with my first argument within the Body of the paper.]
If this incident does not recall for
us the episode in the Garden, when all were punished in such a way as to remind us of the order of
top to bottom, the Serpent tempts Eve who in turn tempts her husband, here again a woman—almost
forgotten in the narrative—is the power, so to speak, behind the man. Rebecca not only plans the strategy that will rob one of her children of his
birthright and blessing, but she goes so far as to dress the sneaky Jacob, prepares skins to place
upon the smooth hands and neck of her favorite, and prepares a special dish in order to distract her
now blind husband. Once he bestows the blessing, as the
story makes clear, Isaac remains powerless to disown it, despite the moving pleas of the duped Esau,
whom his father declares will serve his younger brother. As
the heel becomes the head, it turns into more than the birthright or blessing of a single child in a
particular family. Jacob will be the father of nations,
traditionally and declared in the Bible to be the father to twelve sons, the later twelve tribes of
Israel.
[O.K., I have a choice to make here; is this material for point #2?
And if so, is that point about women and their role in the earliest of biblical narratives?
Or is the point to be made here about duplicity?]
Yet the J writer is not finished
with his metaphor; it remains useful for Jacob’s dream at Penuel, of the ladder reaching up to
heaven, of the angels descending and climbing. But
Jacob, who is given the land upon which he sleeps with a rock as his pillow by God, remembering the
promise to Abraham, his grandfather, we have the fruition of the covenant made between a particular
people and the God of Creation. From this point on in the many and varied Hebrew narratives, Yahweh is not so
frequent a guest in the land or in the hearts of His people. The
struggle and pain gives way to a promised deliverer in the hesitant Moses, one who must, after years
of wandering in the wilderness, go up to Sinai, there to meet a God who no longer speaks directly
with men, who does not come down but, rather, demands that others come up, and demonstrates an
exactitude that, should we read the narratives straight through from Creation to the camp opposite
Jericho, surprises us by its peevishness: Moses cannot pass over for reasons that seem more trivial
than the actions of Jacob, who sets forth his own conditions for obedience to God on his way back
home (Chapter 28:20 ff.), or that of Abraham, who manages to barter with God until his Creator
becomes exasperated by the bargaining (Chapter 18:16 ff.).
[This
material clarifies the purpose for the metaphor, so it may be useful, but it’s obviously out of
place—it goes just after the Introduction with some material about the consistency and number of
times such a metaphor appears. If I use this material
(and I should), it needs to go earlier and before either the women or duplicity idea.]
The gap, however, is now
irrevocable, for Yahweh’s relationship to humanity has gone from fashioning the adama with
His own hands and dressing them prior to their expulsion from innocence to a removed deity who may
hear the cries of His people but also recalls their evil. The
prophets will cry “Here, O Israel!” but to no avail, for the metaphor has become the reality:
the distance between God and Man is as great as the head from the heel.
[It’s time to stop the gushing out of
material; I have enough now to know how to best fashion an essay.
The metaphor must be my thesis; and something about the usefulness or frequency of use must
be the next argument. In other words, I need to re-read
what I have, begin to make notes on where I’m headed, get rid of extraneous material, and fill out
the useful arguments so that I have four, clear statements.]
III. Helpful Information to
Consider While Revising
Now, it’s time for me to add some useful
information for anyone reading this material in order to write a better paper.
Style and substance go together. You will read
freshman writing text books, if you have the patience, that will stress the substance of your work
over grammar, proper sentence construction, pronoun and verb agreement, etc.
You can pick up just as many textbooks that maintain that if you learn the rules of grammar,
you would think that essays just magically appear from your pen or keyboard.
In truth, mechanics (style) and substance
(content) go together like beer and fraternities. If
you don’t write stylistically free of errors, no one will take you seriously; if you have nothing
to say, it doesn’t matter how lovely your grammar may be. So
here are a few tips, with the emphasis on few:
Always avoid the overused to be verb
whenever possible. Because it’s the most often used
word in our language (or anyone’s language), it’s unavoidable—as in the last sentence, where I
disguised it with a contraction. Rather than saying,
“He is a man who sees things clearly, because being in the know is important to him,” I would
write: “As one in the know, he understands the importance of seeing things clearly.”
I rearranged the sentence in order to avoid the “is,” “being,” or the many variations
of is, are, were, be, am, etc. These are weak
verbs—just as this is a weak sentence. To be
verbs get us into passive constructions (weak sentences: the action comes to the subject rather than
the subject causing the action: “John hits the ball” represents a strong sentence, whereas
“the ball is being hit by John” does not).
Next, avoid weak, anticipatory openings:
“There are,” “This is,” “There is,” etc. Rewrite
the sentence to state what “There” will later refer to—do it now.
And learn to subordinate sentences and vary length and form.
A subordinated clause means one that cannot stand-alone: “with all the problems he
had…”—we recognize that something must follow. I
recommend that the subordinate clause appear first in a sentence, because we have a tendency
to hear things that build toward conclusion. Interestingly
enough, however, the essay as a whole should not build toward strength—just the
opposite.
And lastly, learn to embed.
Embedding means that we merge sentences that can be so as to link our thoughts and to
allow material to flow. I offer some examples:
The
teachers are over-worked. They do not have enough hours
in a day to complete their work. They often put in a lot of overtime in order to help their students.
Of course, they are not paid for this extra effort.
Our
overworked teachers, who are overworked and underpaid, put in too much overtime for which they
remain uncompensated.
We
embed by using “flat” adverbs (while, after, when, even though, until, etc.), relative pronouns
(that, which, who), and participles (verbal adjectives: for more information, consult—and always
have handy—a decent style/grammatical handbook and look for illustrations).
And
remember that you should vary sentence length and style, primarily by subordinating clauses.
The tendency in English is to place the subordinated clause first (subordinate clauses are those
that cannot stand on their own; we may also refer to these as dependent clauses.) "Because
he couldn't stay awake, John often appeared uninterested and bored in the classroom."
OR "Knowing that many websites cannot be verified as to the legitimacy of their
arguments, opinions, or even as to the impartiality of their materials, one should always view
scholarship based on website addresses with suspicion, if for no other reason than we do not know
how long this material will remain available for our use, thus verifying our argument."
Notice that in this last illustration, I could easily write three sentence from this material, which
has three subordinate clauses. And while I would not wish to subordinate and make all
sentences as long as the previous, it serves to balance and to vary sentences that may be shorter or
have fewer subordinate clauses. Sentence variety helps maintain interest in your argument and
supporting material.
Most often, we can embed short, choppy sentences to help our narrative flow;
the variety also helps in putting across our argument, given that the variety keeps the material
interesting and fresh.
Other tips:
avoid
parenthetical phrases; if the material is
important, put it into your paper proper; if the material isn't that important,
omit it.
"The" is a formal
opening for a sentence, and thus it has a "new
beginning" feel to it; therefore, you should avoid beginning sentences with
"the" in the body of a paragraph since it has a "stop and
start" feel to it.
Use pronouns carefully
in order to identify what they replace; use the noun first before using the
pronoun, as in "Knowing the stylistic touches of the J writer importantly
helps us to identify him as opposed to the P writer, for whom a more legalistic,
orderly narrative remains his style. But he
J underscores humanity's role in the history of a people, as opposed to the other's
P's emphasis upon Elohim first and humanity second. Also, remain
faithful to pronoun agreement--especially
"number," one of the most often made mistakes in speaking and
writing. "If a student does not take careful notes in this class, they
he may as well concede a decent grade, because they
he won't keep us with the work."
IV. Always Know Your Sources
As with the subordinate clause illustration sentence, make certain that you
understand the value of secondary material, which means all sources that are not directed at the
primary text or arguments that come from you. If I write a paper on the J writer and Genesis,
then Genesis is my primary text; if I draw upon E. A. Speiser's excellent comments in his edition of
The Anchor Bible: Genesis, I must give credit to all material I borrow from Speiser. You
should always know the value of your secondary source material: Psychology Today is a better
source than Time Magazine, but neither are as good as The New England Journal of Medicine.
Books are fine, but articles represent easier, more specific, and often more recent source
material. Materials taken from websites are always viewed with suspicion, unless they present verifiable
and well-known, respected sources. The website for the American Bible Society would
receive more respect than something from a particular religious faith--it seems less prejudiced or,
at the least, does not have a specific agenda.
What remains is now to rewrite the paper, begun above, into something more
forceful and to the point. Remember: the length will
dictate how much we devote to each of our three ideas for development, and the first idea holds the
other three together as linked, associated concepts in making an argument. Our attentions to style will help a reader to follow the ideas and to get his or
her agreement with what we’re saying. And keep this
last thought in mind: no argument must sell the reader or listener 100%. Your obligation remains easier than that; you must go to 51%.
So long as you convince someone that something is probable, you’ve won [by the way: would
you remove the “is” in that sentence to “remains,” rewrite it to say “something achieves
probability…,” or would you allow it to stay, since you haven’t overused it?].
IV. Now, let’s begin
to revise …
(For
illustrative purposes, the following does not adhere to usual essay form, which
indents the first line of each paragraph by five spaces; as well, your paper
should be double-spaced throughout, even citations that are "set off"
from the text, which are indented 10 spaces and use no quotation marks. I
have used greater spacing for the quotations merely to emphasize where they
occur. Anything indented by 10 spaces is, by definition, a quote.
Only use set-off citations if your cited material is more than 3 or 4 lines in
length. Please pay attention to how poetry is cited in the following
paper, as well as the use of quotations and secondary source material. The
red lines and marks below indicate the revision process.)
The
‘Head/Heel’ Trope of the J Writer: “God’s” Favorite Metaphor
The
title for this essay suggests an irony; it concerns itself with the writer known
as “J” from the German biblical scholars who so designated the author as
such for his fondness for naming
in addressing God as “Yahweh, ” with the initial merely reflecting the
German pronunciation for this particular author within
the “Documentary Hypothesis” (a theory designating the many hands of the
Hebrew Scripture by use of God’s name, stylistic differences, knowledge of
timely events, and preferential emphasis upon narrative materials).
of the Hebrew Scriptures. But for
those who believe the Bible divinely inspired, the often-used metaphor that will
become the focus of this paper may be attributed to either God’s inspiration
or to the writer who rendered his god’s oral tradition and earliest
narratives. Whether offering his
own view (Harold Bloom, however, believes J to have been a woman of Solomon’s
court: see The Book of J) or that inspired by God, I
intend to argue that the J writer uses a “head versus heel”
metaphor as a means for explaining not only the distance between Man and God
after Man’s first disobedience, but the increasing separation that grows
evermore distant after Eden, because it serves
serving to establish the expanse that later narratives will emphasize as
Yahweh’s increasingly remoteness from His creation.
Chapter Three of Genesis, where the trope first appears, gives
us offers a brief but important drama within the Garden of Eden,
linking all of life’s first players to the many dramas of Man’s isolation to
follow.
The narrative
begins a fatal story that moves so easily and quietly that it mimics the
creature it describes: “Now, the serpent was the sliest of all the wild
creatures that God Yahweh had made” (Anchor Genesis; ed. E. A. Speiser).
With the temptation complete and the sin realized, Yahweh questions Adam,
Eve, and the Serpent, demanding first of Adam why he ignored Yahweh’s
prohibition against eating the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and
Evil. But Adam passes blame, and
each in turn attempts the same, as the small drama appears comically predictable
in depicting humanity’s frailties:
Yahweh:
Who told you that you were naked? Did
you, then, taste of the tree
from
which I had forbidden you to eat?
Adam:
The woman whom you put by my side—it was she who gave me of
that tree, and I ate.
Yahweh:
How could you do such a thing?
Eve:
The serpent tricked me, so I ate.
(3:11-13)
The Serpent, (whom we may
imagine furtively looking for some defense) ,
has no one to blame or time enough for excuse; for Yahweh’s punishments
follow. After cursing the Serpent
to live forever as a beast crawling upon its belly, Yahweh continues the poetic
condemnation:
I
will plant enmity between you and the woman,
And
between your offspring and hers;
They
shall strike at your head,
And
you shall strike at their heel. (v.
15)
The
sixteenth-century reformer, Martin Luther, believed this to be the first
prophecy of Christ entering the world in a divine plan of redemption,
associating the Serpent with Satan and Jesus with the new Adam; thus, Satan
would wound the Son of God by means of the cross, but Christ would defeat Satan
for all time at the Day of Judgment. Whether
or not we choose to adhere to Luther’s Christian interpretation, the metaphor
of “head to heel” serves to indicate all narrative relationships between Man
and God thereafter in the J writer’s accounts of his people’s history, and
does so as well, incidentally, for Christians of the Middle Ages, who measured
everything by its distance from God on the “Great Chain of Being,” with God
at the top and Satan at the bottom.
In this
canonical first story of the Bible, the J writer establishes the metaphor as
natural causation for the events it concludes
he retells. For instance, Yahweh
not only molds the “adam” from the “adama,” the man from the clay, but
the pun on Adam’s name indicates either a lighthearted approach, evinced by
the predictable comical-drama of the passing of blame offered above, or J
renders an important image in service of a greater metaphor: Adam comes from the
earth in opposition to his Creator. Yahweh,
however, molds this base substance into divine form and then blows life into its
nostrils: “Thus man became a living being” (2:7).
Adam becomes complete, as it were, from top to bottom.
The need for
recognizing this relationship of head to heel or God to Man becomes clarified, I
believe, by the creation of Eve, (done so
for the companionship of the adama),.
who, in In J’s Creation
narrative, she represents the via media, the middle way, for not only
does she emerge from Adam’s side, with an additional pun on “woman,” but
the verb to describe her creation is different in the Greek, which
suggestsing “creation” for
Adam but “fashioning” or “constructing” for Eve: “Then God Yahweh cast
a deep sleep upon the man and, when he was asleep, he took one of his ribs and
closed up the flesh at that spot” (v. 21).
We become aware of the priorities of creation—much like the first
Genesis narrative, beginning at Chapter One, verse one, of “First day…Second
day,” etc.—in light of J’s continuing spatial trope of distance; that is,
vertical direction becomes paramount in the Genesis descriptions, the images,
and most especially in the essential metaphor that equates relationship between
Yahweh and humanity, by figuratively aligning it to the human body.
We should note, as well, that J’s narrative begins with “At the time
that God Yahweh made earth and heaven” (2:4), reversing the order of the
earlier opening, “When God set about to create heaven and earth” (1:1).
All becomes a matter of degree, judged by a proximity to or distance from
God. The head to heel metaphor serves
to set sets forth the relationship between Creator and created, which
becomes more distinct as all following narratives, in a progressive order, so
indicate.
The Serpent’s
fate in the Garden narrative demonstrates a similar debasement of humanity due
to disobedience to God, which indicates a lack of stature resulting from
willfulness and distance from Yahweh, in whose image Adam was first created.
Note the distinction that begins Chapter Three, where the Serpent is the
“sliest of all the wild creatures” (my emphasis).
Creation consists of cattle, birds, and wild beasts.
Does this indicate a degree in the animal order of creation, one
prophetically preceding a distinction between men and women, and God to
humanity? Certainly, the respective
punishments in Eden further the “estrangement” metaphor, in that Eve will
suffer during childbirth, again suggestive of her own origin, while Adam’s
means for survival becomes “By the sweat of your face / Shall you earn your
bread” (v. 19). It seems almost
satirically appropriate that each would suffer according to inception, with
Eve’s pain and Adam’s figurative tears in laboring for food.
Understanding
the degree of J’s seriousness in the narrative, however, once again becomes
difficult. And by
“seriousness,” I do not wish to imply that the writer belittles or
undermines the enormity of the Fall; yet, authors have always used parody,
satire, and irony to render serious concepts that cannot achieve full impact by
direct narration or “factual” rendition.
Puns exist here in the suitable names, but, so too, names represented
“magical keys” to the “nature and essence of the given being or thing” (Speiser
16). Whether J employs a whimsical
attitude to this material is not important; rather, the tone of his storytelling
provides a more important guide to the events, suggesting an impasse between
God’s majesty and the fallen nature of humanity; names here merely guide us
toward that direction and provide readers with the necessary keys for
interpreting the many layers of the seemingly “simple” story.
The many
narratives that follow Man’s first disobedience certainly support the
contradiction between Yahweh’s power and His creation’s foolishness, often
doing so in humorous or ironical ways. To
understand that humanity, at least the representative few who become the focus
of Hebrew Scripture, does little to elevate itself to the apparent dignity of
the first man, we have only to consider the construction of the tower that would
reach to Heaven, Noah’s drunkenness following his survival from the Flood,
Jacob’s entrance into the world by use of his brother (his name etymologically
related to the Hebrew word “heel”), Esau’s stolen blessing—where Jacob
kneels at the feet of his blind father awaiting his hand upon his head—the
rashness of Moses, which causes him to flee when he again intercedes in a
struggle not his own, or David’s exuberant, near-naked dance before the Ark of
the Covenant. But these stories and
their heroes serve to remind us of the relational disparity between Yahweh and
humanity.
In like manner,
physical references suggest the same widening gap between the two.
Yahweh walks in the Garden, dresses his fallen couple, comes down to
visit the tower later named Babel, becomes indistinct from angels or gods in
speaking to or interceding for Man, and eventually dwells on His holy mountain,
where only the chosen may approach. If
a particular narrative moment best suggests the burgeoning distance begun by the
Garden metaphor, it must surely be Jacob’s dream of the ladder reaching to
Heaven, wherein the image implies the many steps or degrees imposed between
Heaven and earth (and the “Elohist” writer, noted for prophecies and dreams
in his narratives, may be the author here).
God’s name “El Shaddai,” variously rendered as “God Almighty,”
or “God of the Mountain,” expresses that metaphoric distance, used perhaps
by another hand in the Biblical narratives, yet the term no less indicates an
irreversible, fixed position. By
the time Moses approaches Yahweh, he ascends and descends Sinai in literal
fashion to that suggested by Jacob’s figurative dream.
That the J writer’s style remains definable or influential in these
narratives, at least in large measure, tells us that the trope first used in
Genesis, Chapter Three, develops his greater plan. Paying close attention to this earliest story renders a
better understanding of the loss of Eden and Mankind’s estrangement from God.
When the Serpent says, “Even though God told you not to eat of any tree
in the garden…,” the woman correctly interjects that the Serpent is in
error. But as the Serpent responds,
“You are not going to die,” she and then her husband learn half the truth:
they do not die, but “the eyes of both were opened and they discovered that
they were naked,” just as the Serpent had promised: “your eyes will be
opened and you will be the same as God in knowing good from bad.”
She fails, however, to comprehend a deliberate slithering past the truth,
because what he tells the woman and what does happen upon eating the
forbidden fruit seem so remarkably close, if not for that small, yet portentous
and bothersome something that does not follow: a loss of innocence and
inevitable death. J’s craft of narration remains no less deceptive, leading
us toward wrong conclusions until we realize that it isn’t how they
fell, but what occurred when they did that matters. In such small degrees does J begin a journey of remorse, of
Man created in God’s image, and what might have been.
V.
Subjects for the Paper, and Helpful Information on the Assignment:
The Bible as Literature Paper: Guidelines for the
Assignment and Suggested Subjects
The
following includes guidelines for your paper, with some suggested subjects.
Remember that these represent suggestions, and you should feel free to
choose your own topic to write on if you wish.
Your paper should be a critical analysis
that reflects your own point of view, argued by a specific thesis, one
demonstrated in a focused, narrowly defined approach. A subject is only a beginning;
you must then concentrate on finding a topic (your
idea considerably narrowed down: J's head/heel trope, for example, is a
subject, whereas a topic might be ["I intend to argue that"] the J
writer uses the head/heel trope in Genesis in order to distinguish the
relationship between God and humanity, because he wishes to accentuate not only
what that divine relationship was, but how easily it changed when the Man
"stumbles" and falls from the intention of his Creator").
To
help narrow down your idea, concentrate on one scene or
one event within a narrative, or compare two narratives, two characters,
or several events within one narrative—don't write on the entire biblical
book, or everything a figure does in the narrative.
Or, you may wish to write about one incident in a narrative, or perhaps
compare two events. Pick something
that interests you and keep secondary sources to a minimum
(I prefer your ideas as opposed to "research" dominated
papers); remember, secondary sources are only a springboard to your own ideas.
Avoid generalities and the obvious.
A good paper should tell you, and the reader, we'll hope, something you
didn't know before. Your paper
should not summarize or retell the plot, nor should it merely reflect class
notes or discussion.
You
may want to check with me on your topic idea: write down your
thesis -- if it helps, phrase your sentence, "I intend to argue that
______, because _____." That
way I have something specific to help you with.
(Note that the "because" of the above sentence adds the
specific of your argument and keeps you from being too general or vague in your
thesis.)
A
word on citing quotations: poetry
or prose that is more than four lines should
be set off from the text (indent 10 spaces from the left margin), as in this
passage from Genesis:
Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the
field, which the Lord God had made. And
he said unto the woman, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of
the garden?
And the woman said unto the serpent, We may eat of the
fruit of the trees of the garden: but of the fruit of the tree which is in the
midst of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye
touch it, lest ye die.
And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not
surely die: For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes
shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good from evil. (Gen. 3:1-5; KJV)
However, if
I had used fewer lines to quote and wished to make this part of my sentence, the
parenthetical citation would be part of my sentence, as follows:
We
see how subtle the Serpent is when he approaches Eve: “And the serpent said
unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: For God doth know that in the day ye
eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing
good from evil” (Gen. 3:1-5; KJV).
But keep
large passages to a minimum and don't cite more than germane to your
discussion. Quotations should
follow a developed argument as an illustration—they illustrate (argue)
something that you have already established.
Material set off from the text becomes, by
definition, a quote; so, it is not placed in quotation marks.
Note too that Genesis does not indicate quotation marks in the above
passage about the Serpent, so you cite it exactly as you find it in the text;
if it were in quotation marks, it would be a quote inside a quote and take single
marks, not double. As well, the
parenthetical citation comes after the period (skip two spaces).
If you cite three, perhaps four, lines or less, make the citation part of
the sentence, which the following illustrates:
Typical
of the “J” writer’s psychology, each protagonist in the narrative lays
blame on the other for failing God’s injunction: first Adam, then Eve—“And
the woman said, The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat” (Gen. 3:13)—until
the Serpent is left, flustered perhaps, with no one to accuse.
A word on citing
poetry: Use a / mark to indicate the end of a poetical line when the
citation is part of your sentence (when you cite four or
more lines, then set it off from your essay text by indenting 10 spaces
and then type it exactly as it appears on the page from which you take the
citation). The following
illustrates how to correctly cite poetry when it is part of your sentence and
not set off from the text:
Yahweh’s
condemnation of the Serpent points up the head/heal image so prominent in the J
writer’s narratives: “They shall strike at your head, / And you shall strike
at their heel” (Gen. 3.15; Anchor ed.), lines which Martin Luther would
critique as the first prophecy of Jesus to be found in Scripture.
The
quotation should fit your sentence: that means
that while you quote the words exactly, the punctuation at the end of your
sentence depends on whether the idea is a complete sentence.
In other words, don't use an ellipsis before a quote; nor should you use
it at the end of your sentence if you have a completed thought—use a period.
Also note that when you give a quote within a sentence, the
parenthetical citation is part of your sentence; thus the period (or
semicolon or colon) comes after the parenthesis while all other punctuation
comes before.
Be faithful
to the edition of the text you use when citing, and break poetry or prose
according to the editors' decisions. When
quoting from a secondary source, your guide should be the MLA
Manual of Style, 1985—or later—edition, located in the reference
section of the library, PR 3521.
A last
reminder: type your paper, approximately 5 pages--no more than 8. Please do not put your paper in a folder or add a cover
sheet . Put your name, class
section, and date in the upper right hand corner of the first page; put your
last name and page number on all subsequent pages; give your paper a specific
title, centered on your first page, that reflects your thesis idea; use a
paperclip or staple your pages. If
you submit it by email, please make certain that no
formatting will be lost in the attachment; check
the attachment before sending). Should
you not know how to insure that, please ask for help from someone in the
computer center. I use MS Word.
Be
Specific. Proofread your paper
carefully, but do more than merely reread it: revise
your work. Revision is a major part of writing--one of the easiest
problems to spot in reading student papers is the lack of revision, which
usually indicates haste, laziness, or indifference.
Writing is a skill that takes effort, patience, and the willingness to
improve it, so start early.
Some
suggested subjects (and, please, remember that these represent general subject
ideas; you may elect to take one and turn it into a topic—a
narrowly-defined concept that focuses on a limited
amount of material and specifically examines its details as a means
for proving your very specific argument/thesis idea.
Go back to the “I intend to argue _________, because _______” example
mentioned above, and determine what specific amount of text or part of a
narrative you’ll use to prove your idea).
Book
of Genesis:
Creation
and Garden:
The
Documentary Hypothesis (warning: this must be VERY specific and informed)
Documentary
Hypothesis: differences in style between P, J, or E (and see above)
Significances
in the differences between the two creation stories
Compare the
"distance" and "friendliness" of the two stories of creation
Free will
and the tree of knowledge
The
importance of "knowledge"
God's
ever-increasing distance in Genesis
Narrative "intent"
(you may choose a narrative from Genesis other than those we
discussed in class)
Symbolism
Subjectivity vs. objectivity (consider for Gospel of
John, or philosophical approach)
The Hebrews insistence on no created images of their
God—here or in other narratives
Noah and the Ark:
Distinctions
between the Noah narratives
Similarities
and the impact of Genesis (Noah) compared to Utnapishtim (Gilgamesh)
The mystery
and effect of “gaps” in a particular narrative
Take a particular passage and compare it in a variety
of translations, and then argue if there is an implied “tone” or “feel”
that is different in one as the others
Psychological
or literary style in one narrative by a particular writer
The changes
of “feel” or “presentation” of Yahweh in comparison of two narratives
Reason for
specific definitions of size and vague quality about “all animals” for the
Ark
Numerology?
Consider the Noah narrative as a covenant with Yahweh:
how does it compare with others? (Consider Abraham and/or Moses)
Distinction between Noah’s world and that of
Abraham, or, more specifically, Moses
Abraham:
The significance of Abraham's test by God
The mystery of events (Isaac or Angels visiting
Abraham)
Reader response to Ishmael and Hagar, as opposed to
Sarah and Isaac
Yahweh’s travels with Abraham; how is this different
from other cultures?
Problems with the anagogical mode of
Abraham/Isaac=God/Jesus (only because the parallel is too well known and obvious
to write about)
Subtleties of Abraham’s intended sacrifice of Isaac
(only if you add something to Auerbach’s observations)
Literary qualities of J’s Abraham account (or, as
some believe, E’s account)
Jacob
and Esau:
Jacob and
the theme of duplicity
The particular importance of dreams or prophecy (here
too, you could compare to Gilgamesh, which uses a considerable number of
them)
The sympathy
afforded Esau
The theme of
duality, whether in the brothers or in other narratives
The reason
for or mystery of angels and their sometime equating to Yahweh
Jacob as
“typical” Biblical hero
Jacob as
wanderer—literary type
Jacob’s
rite of passage
Symbolism in
the Jacob/Esau narratives
Jacob and
Esau as radically different: purpose? Symbolism?
Jacob as
paramount figure of Old Test., as opposed to Moses (or consider the opposite)
Exodus:
The possible
reason for biblical “echoes”
The
relationship between Yahweh and Moses
Some aspect of the Pharaoh narrative, such as the
finding of the child in relationship to Moses’ purpose, the “fairy tale”
quality, or reason for his slave-to royalty-to slave stature.
The making of a “self-image”
The idea of an oral tradition or anachronisms in a
literal story
The pun and purpose of the name of the deliverer,
Moshe or Moses
A very focused argument as to the role of women in the
life of Moses
Reader responses to the ten plagues and their purposes
in the text
Moses as flawed spokesman (or, consider any of the Old
Testament figures)
The mystery or import of Yahweh’s addresses to Moses
within the narrative
Mountains and rivers as “transitional” or
“liminal” symbols or moments
The easy rebellion of Israel: what is the message,
lesson, purpose in the narrative?
Yahweh’s appearances in the light of the proscribed
physical descriptions
Consideration of why short, non-developed instances
stay with readers (the basket on the Nile, burning bush, appearance before
Pharaoh, parting of the sea, etc.)
Ethical dialogues as opposed to specific Hebrew law
Importance of and symbolism in numerology (this may be
applied to all the works on the syllabus)
The meaning of Yahweh’s attempt to kill Moses;
vagueness of pronouns, action, etc.
J’s emphasis on humanity: consider this in Genesis
or here: why do we respond to the flawed character? (Be specific)
The Book of Job:
Rhetorical fallacies used by the advisors or
counselors
The importance of the Prologue
The importance of the Epilogue
The images and poetry used by Yahweh in His rebuke
from the storm
A specific element of Job as Greek tragedy
Job 13:15: the contradiction in translations re. “He
will/may slay me; I have no hope” as opposed to a less pessimistic rendering
of the verse
The importance of Chapter14: no afterlife
Elihu vs. the other counselors: how are they different
and why?
Importance of Targums (Aramaic paraphrases) or
Hebrew folk stories (Midrash)
God’s anger at the counselors: how do their
statements vary with Yahweh in the storm?
Job as “Wisdom Literature” and its conception of
life’s meaning
The dealing with evil in a “good” world
Yahweh’s permission of evil
Yahweh’s equation of righteousness=reward;
evil=suffering
Analyze the effectiveness of a particular poetic
passage (there are many to choose from)
Gospels
of Matthew and Luke:
The
importance of 3s and 7s in the Gospel of Matt. (or 14s)
The
writer’s use of parables or extensive sayings of Christ in Matt.
The reason(s)
for the attitude toward the Jews, Matt.
Some aspect
of the question of authorship, Matt. or Luke
The
reference to women in the Gospel: Matt. or Luke
The cultic
or ritual practices of Jesus: Matt. or Luke
Events
pertinent to this Gospel, such as Pilate washing his hands of guilt: Matt.
The
fulfillment of the Old in the New (Matt. in particular)
Tensions
between Pharisees and Christ’s teachings
A contrast
between welcome to sinners in Matt. or Luke, as opposed to Job
Comparison
of Job and the meaning of righteousness as opposed to “heart” of Gospels
Jesus as
world Messiah as opposed to Matthew’s Jesus’, rep. as Messiah, in particular
The
necessity and “authority” of genealogy
The
importance of dreams and prophecy between Old and New Testaments
Compare the
temptation of Job vs. that depicted in Matthew or Luke
The concept
of Jesus as king, as opposed to a “Promised Land”
Particular
differences between the Beatitudes and Old Test. Prophecies
Figurative
teachings and parables vs. “literal” narratives of the Old Test.
A particular
Old Testament narrative vs. a New Test. parable
The parable
of the “house” (Matthew) as opposed to the “family” of the Old Test.
Anagogic
mode of allegory: Noah as “carpenter” prefiguring Jesus, for instance
Judas’
betrayal: necessity, prophecy, free will, or other questions
Peter’s
denial as opposed to Man’s disobedience of God
Christ’s
death between thieves: prophecy, symbolism, and/or meaning
The author
of Luke as more educated, subtler, more literary: compare to J
Christ’s
appeal to the poor and suffering: compare to Old Testament
Luke as a
Greek voice and thus different worldview: why is that important?
Matthew and Luke admitting that they’re not privy to
first-hand witnessing: a problem?Why is that admitted to?
The difference between dreams and angelic visitations
between Matt. and Luke—between
New Test. and Old?
Compare a specific between disagreements or different
reporting between Matt. and Luke: what is the difference and why in two Gospels
that otherwise agree?
The visit
after resurrection to Mary in the two Gospels
The beauty
of Luke’s admittedly more artful narration; what is the reader’s response?
Analyze the differences between two of Luke’s
parables: the Good Samaritan and Prodigal son—why are these more
“sophisticated”? What is the
purpose? What do they “speak”
to us even today?
Differences between Matt. and Luke with regard to the
trial and/or crucifixion: why?
How do we
explain the distinctions in Resurrection differences?
To what purposes?
Importance
of the Emmaus story: why particular and not to Apostles or more people?
What is the
Emmaus “parable”? Why would it
appeal to Luke?
Gospel
of John:
Thematic
importance in the narrative
Reasons for
discrepancy with other Gospels
Typology
(Anagogic mode of allegory): symbolic relevance to Hebrew scriptures
Imagistic
contrasts and their relevance—light/dark, etc.
The
“proem” (opening) and Greek thought; distinction in tenses, etc.
The
importance of the ordering of signs (miracles)
Duality in the signs: "inside" and
"outside" meaning—do these events have a twofold purpose?
Narrative
structure
Liminal
"threshold" events
The
ecstatic: mysticism and religious fervor
Why
“non-synoptic”? What does that
mean in light of Matt. and Luke?
How are
eye-witness accounts different? more compelling?
A retelling
of Genesis—purpose, necessity, affect?
Why no
parables or Sermon on the Mount in an eye-witness account?
Greek
philosophic influence
Stylistic differences (shorter sentences, direct
statements)—more artful or more philosophical?
The
relationship between John the Baptist and Jesus: its purpose
Jesus as the
“bread of life”: nourishment concept, imagery—compare to Old Test.?
The
importance of Lazarus (perhaps compare to Job, Chapt. 13 or 14)
The
importance of ceremony and rite (Last Supper)—consider as a rite of passage
Distinctions
in Crucifixion details from Matt. and Luke: why?
Chapter 21
as a later addition to the Gospel of John—difference?
Necessary?
Literature:
You may focus on any of the Bible as Literature text’s
literature that follows each chapter, if you wish to compare it to or disagree
with its association with any of the works above and the readings at the end of
those Biblical chapters—be certain to narrow and define your idea, most
especially because you’re dealing with two works of
literature, not one. For instance,
I’ve mentioned that our concepts of many events in Genesis really come from
John Milton’s Paradise Lost, even if we have not read it.
Those literary events have become part of our culture in which we merely
assume or remember the events described there as being Biblical, when in fact
they are literary. This may hold
true for us if we’ve read or studied tragedy and then see the tragic evidences
found in Job. Or, we may find a
particular poem or short story that brings us closer to or gives us a greater
understanding of the Biblical narrative after we have read the literary
story or poem. Analyze these as to
the reasons for their effectiveness in a Judeo/Christian society that makes us
ready to receive the images, symbols, or concepts because we have an affinity
for the Biblical influences in our lives.
So too, you may compare or contrast any idea
of those above or your own; however, comparison or contrast essays must be very
specific. In fact, you do
not compare and contrast: you make a choice.
We begin all compare or contrast essays by assuming that, first, there is
an inherent likeness in these two ideas.
After determining that, we elect to show the subtleties, ironies, or
effectiveness in comparing the two things.
But we may take two things that APPEAR to be
like, but upon further examination, the differences are what are
most interesting. Comparison/Contrast
essays must find one, specific thesis that works for both ideas, and the thesis must
combine the two into one statement.
Moreover, the structure
of comparison and contrast essays must follow a particular plan—outline
is everything. In other
words, do one or the other—don’t compare AND contrast; decide which
of the two you will do. Thereafter,
decide (and the length of the paper often dictates how this will be done)
whether you will compare (if that is what you choose to do) these two items:
will you show the similarity of each one, back and forth, or will you present
all of one subject and then choose to show, in focusing on this one idea, how
the other subject is similar? Or,
will you decide to go back and forth: one paragraph on one subject, and then one
paragraph on the similarities (or contrasts) of the other subject?
The shorter essay can sustain a “back and forth.”
Longer essays need attention to the first idea for a page or two (or
more, considering the length) before remarking on the idea for comparison (or
contrast). Whatever you choose,
make certain your approach is balanced,
which is important to either compare or contrast essays.
Form, more than any other stylistic or even argumentative approach,
dictates the comparison or contrast essay.
Make an outline and stick to it; re-read your work to see if it’s too
abrupt or irritating in how you state your argument.
And remember: whatever you choose to do, your thesis
must accommodate two ideas, consisting of one clear
statement indicating that you will either compare for a particular reason or you
will contrast for a specific reason. As
important as form, the thesis is crucial to a comparison/contrast essay.
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