KEDUSHAH, KEDOSHAH, OR B’K’DUSHAH in KEDUSHAH D’YESHIVAH?

Wayne Allen

In his classic study of the content and evolution of Jewish prayer, Abraham Millgram (Jewish Worship, p. 134) asserts that “the most significant addition to the liturgy after its redaction at Yavneh was that of the Kedushah, a prayer in which the community of Israel together with the heavenly host proclaim God’s holiness.” Yavneh was the town in which rabbinic Judaism retrenched after the destruction of the Second Temple in the year 70 C.E. Millgram further contends that the Kedushah prayer “is obviously mystic in nature” and Babylonian in origin (ibid.). It was during the early Rabbinic period that Babylonian mystics “were engrossed in speculations regarding the nature, appearance, and functions of the…angelic sanctification of God” as described in Isaiah 6:3 and Ezekiel 3:12 which, along with Psalm 146:10 make up the central elements of the Kedushah prayer, surrounded by appropriate introductions and connecting phrases.

In his commentary on the Bible, Rabbi Meir Leib ben Yehiel Mikhel Malbim (1809 – 1897) explains that when, as described by the prophet Isaiah, the angels on high proclaim God’s holiness (kedushah, in Hebrew), they are, in essence, attesting that “God is separated from earth in that He is immaterial; He is separated from time in that He is everlasting or eternal; and He is also separated from the heavens in that He is insubstantial.” This threefold separation is what characterizes holiness. Rabbi Hayim Halevi Donin (To Pray as a Jew, p. 126–7) adds that “not only is God above and beyond man and his world, but the angels proclaim God to be above and beyond their world as well” leading to the inevitable question: “if the angels so proclaim, can mortal man say less?”

When the Babylonians introduced the inclusion of the Kedushah, it was fittingly placed immediately before the third blessing of the Amidah which concludes with an affirmation of God’s holiness. It quickly became the apotheosis of the public prayer service. After some initial resistance, the Kedushah gained currency among Palestinian Jews as well. Millgram (Jewish Worship, p. 136) surmises that Jews unable to attend synagogue services daily felt deprived of the privilege to recite Kedushah so the rabbis inserted an abbreviated form of Kedushah in the text leading up to the first blessing before the recital of the morning Shema as well as incorporating the key verses of the Kedushah in the paragraph near the end of the morning service, perhaps for late-comers. This form of the Kedushah did not require a quorum of worshippers, thus enabling all worshippers – whether or not in synagogue – to declare God’s holiness in the mystical words of the prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel. To distinguish the standing, public recital of the Kedushah during the reader’s repetition of the Amidah, the early recital of the Kedushah was termed Kedushah D’ Yeshivah (the “sitting” Kedushah or Kedushah D’Yotzer, referring to the blessing it precedes, cf. Resp. Otzar HaGe’onim, Berakhot No. 46) and the later recital of the kedushah was called Kedushah D’Sidra (See Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 49a; Shabbat 116b; Resp. Otzar HaGe’onim No. 320).

It is the Kedushah D’Yotzer that is the subject of a wording dispute. Four Hebrew words describe the manner in which the angels proclaim God’s holiness. The dispute centers on whether these four words constitute two pairs of phrases with each phrase consisting of a noun and a modifying adjective, or one phrase consisting of a noun followed by two modifying adjectives and then a proper noun. The first view would read this phrase as בְּשָׂפָה בְרוּרָה, meaning “with clear speech,” followed by וּבִנְעִימָה קְדשָּׁה, meaning “and in sacred melody.” The readers would treat the four-word phrase as if there were a comma between the two pairs of words even if a comma did not appear in the text. According to the second view, the phrase should read בְּשָׂפָה בְרוּרָה וּבִנְעִימָה. קְדֻשָּׁה, meaning “in clear and melodious speech. [They proclaim] the Kedushah.” On the first view, the phrase is simply descriptive of the way the angels would proclaim God’s holiness, without indicating the nature of the proclamation. On the second view, the phrase describes the way the angels recite the Kedushah. A survey of various prayerbooks demonstrates how this dispute plays out.

Prior to the publication of the Artscroll prayerbook in 1984, the most popular siddurim used in Orthodox synagogues were the De Sola Pool prayerbook and the Birnbaum prayerbook. The Traditional Prayer Book for Sabbath and Festivals was edited by Rabbi David De Sola Pool who served Congregation Shearith Yisrael, the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue in New York City for more than forty years. His acknowledged erudition led to the official adoption by the Rabbinical Council of America of this prayerbook for all Orthodox congregations in the United States in 1961. Both the 1940 and 1960 edition (p. 53) translated the disputed phrase as:

Mutually accepting for themselves His heavenly rule, in unison they all give one another the word to hallow their Creator in serene, pure utterance of sacred harmony…

That De Sola Pool considered the first view as the correct one is confirmed by the punctuation in the Hebrew text which puts a period after the word Kedoshah which is vocalized with a holom, that is, a dotted vav, making it an “o” as in “so” sound, and rendering it as the modifier of “ne’imah.” Likewise, Ha-Siddur Ha-Shalem edited by Philip Birnbaum and mass distributed by Hebrew Publishing Company adopts the same view. The 1949 edition reads (p. 73):

In serene spirit, with pure speech and sacred melody, they all exclaim in unison and with reverence…

The Hebrew is vocalized the same way as De Sola Pool.

The series of prayer books published for or by the Conservative movement follows suit. The Prayer Book, edited by Rabbi Ben-Zion Bokser, long-serving rabbi of the Forest Hills Jewish Center in Queens, New York, and published by Hebrew Publishing Company in 1961 reads (p. 47):

They sing a hymn of allegiance to the Divine power, each bidding the other go be first in acclaiming their Creator, With soft and clear tones, they chant in unison a sacred melody declaring…

Bokser took the editorial liberty of interpolating the action taken by the angels, i.e. chanting in unison, to make the word flow smoother but he obviously holds that the text is composed of two pairs of phrases with a noun (“tones” in the first phrase and “melody” in the second) and a modifier (“soft and clear” in the first phrase and “sacred” in the second).

The Sim Shalom prayerbook, based on the work of the eminent liturgist Rabbi Jules Harlow, was published by the Rabbinical AHssembly in 1998. Here, the disputed phrase is rendered (p. 97):

One to another they vow loyalty to God’s sovereignty; one with another they join to hallow their Creator with serenity, pure speech, and sacred song, in unison, chanting with reverence…

With his talent for a more poetic rendering of Hebrew, Harlow matches the phrase “one to another” to “one with another” in describing the angelic choir. Notably, Harlow also give his nod to the first view, supported again by the Hebrew text with a comma between the two phrases and the vocalization of K’doshah.

Interestingly, the Jewish Welfare Board, tasked with unenviable mission of producing a prayer book that would serve Jewish troops of all affiliations, translated the disputed phrase in its 1969 High Holiday Prayer Book for Jewish Personnel in the Armed Forces as follows (p. 101):

All of them act with harmonious accord, with purity of purpose and with united strength to perform reverently the will of their Creator. They all break forth into song of pure and holy praise, while they bless, glorify, and proclaim…

The “song of pure and holy praise” conforms with the first view of the disputed phrase. Also of note, the description of the angelic proclamation as a “song” conforms to the Talmudic text as will be noted below.

In contrast, since 1984 and in line with siddurim published in Israel, the second view has ascended in prominence. The Complete Artscroll Siddur (1992 edition, p. 87), translated by Rabbi Nosson Scherman, is paradigmatic:

Then they all accept upon themselves the yoke of heavenly sovereignty from one another and grant permission from one another to sanctify the One Who formed them, with tranquility, with clear articulation, and with sweetness. All of them as one proclaim His holiness and say with awe…

While the identification of the name of the angelic proclamation as the Kedushah is not explicit, this translation accepts the notion that “clear articulation and sweetness” go together in describing it, clearly evident in the Hebrew and its punctuation with a period after the word u-v’ne’imah. This is a pattern followed by Siddur Rinat Yisrael, the mainstream Israeli prayerbook and the popular Koren Siddur under the guidance of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks.

The question of which view is correct or which version is the more authentic is not easily resolved. One of the earliest Jewish prayerbooks, the ninth century Seder Rav Amram (Goldschmidt ed., p. 13), is ambiguous. Lacking any punctuation or explication, the four-word Hebrew phrase in question can be read either way. The same is true with Mahzor Vitry, an enhanced prayerbook produced by the twelfth century school of Rabbi Shlomo Yitzhaqi of Troyes (Horowitz ed., Part I, p. 65). However, the Frumkin edition of Seder Rav Amram published in 1912 notes (p. 188) that a British Museum manuscript vocalized the text to read “k’doshah” in reference to the angelic melody, supporting the first view, while RaShI’s commentary on Isaiah 6:3 (“Holy, holy, holy! God of Hosts—Whose presence fills all the earth!”) includes the observation: “This is the basis for the prayer in Yotzer Ohr, Kedushah: all together proclaim,” that supports the second view. It seems like the Tosafists agree (Babylonian Talmud, Hagigah 13b, s.v. mi-zei-atan).

Fourteenth century Spanish Rabbi David Abudraham, aware of the dispute, seeks to resolve it in his authoritative compendium on Jewish prayer. In the 1963 edition of Sefer Abudraham (p. 73), he explains the parallelism in the text. “Because the author called the language of the angels ‘clear,’ by extension, he also called the melody ‘sacred.’” In other words, the phrase in question consists of two pairs of words, each pair with a noun and a modifying adjective, implying that the text ought to be read as safah berurah and ne’imah kedoshah. He goes on to acknowledge that “some read ‘Kedushah,’ but the first version is correct.” In his multi-volume study of Jewish prayer, Netiv Binah (Vol. I, p. 235, n. 8), Rabbi Y. Jacobson cites Abudraham’s opinion as decisive. He also includes as support the Yemenite prayerbook that reads u-v’ne’imah t’horah, that is, “and with pure melody.” Even though the wording differs from the Ashkenazi prayerbook (t’horah instead of k’doshah), Yemeni Jews agree that the word that follows after “ne’imah” is an adjective. Hence, “Kedushah” would be incorrect.

But all is not settled. Complicating matters, thirteenth century authority on Jewish law, Rabbi Tzedekiah ben Abraham Anaw (Shibbolei Ha-Leket, Sec 13) reports that he had found a text ascribed to eighth century Rabbi Natronai Gaon that reads: “with clear speech, melodiously, and devoutly.” On this version, the phrase in question uses three terms to describe the manner in which the angels proclaim God’s holiness: clearly, melodiously, and devoutly. It certainly does not comport well with the second view that specifies that the angels recite Kedushah, but neither does it support the first. Likewise, the prayerbook of Italian Jews, Mahzor Italiani (Luzatto, ed., Vol. I, p. 14) reads: b’safah berurah, b’ne’imah, u’vik’dushah, best translated as “with clear speech, melodiously, and with sacred devotion.”

To sum up, there are actually three views on the proper reading of the phrase in question. The first view would stipulate reading: b’safah berurah, u-v’ne’imah k’doshah. This view is supported by Natronai Gaon, the British Museum manuscript of Seder Rav Amram, the Yemenite Siddur, and Abudraham. The second view would stipulate reading: b’safah berurah u-v’ne’imah, Kedushah. This view is supported by RaShI and the Tosafists. And the third view would stipulate reading: b’safah berurah, b’ne’imah, u’vik’dushah. This view is supported by the opinion of Natronai Gaon and the Mahzor Italiani. Jewish worshippers, then, are left with a conundrum. Each view has its defenders.

However, three further considerations make a better case for the first view. First, the preponderance of authorities favors this view. Late thirteenth century Spanish Rabbi Yom Tov Ishbili (Hiddushei Ha-RITVA, Meg. 23b, s.v. u-midivrei rabbotai) mentions the tradition of his teachers reciting b’safa berurah u-v’ne’imah kedoshah kulam k’ehad onim b’eimah v’omrim b’yir’ah Kedushah, meaning with clear speech and in sacred melody, together as one, the angels say the Kedushah with trepidation. The RITVA acknowledges that the angels recite the Kedushah. But they do so with clear speech and sacred melody (ne’imah k’doshah) which is the reading of the first view. In fact, reading k’doshah as Kedushah would make no sense since Kedushah here would be redundant, being mentioned at the end. Fifteenth century Spanish Rabbi Abraham Saba (Tzror Ha-Mor, Bereshit, s.v. v’od) identifies two kinds of speech: what comes from the mouth and what comes from the heart. The latter is the superior and is endemic to the angels. He implies that the distinction is embedded in the phrase in question: safah berurah and ne’imah k’doshah. Sixteenth century Turkish Rabbi Moses Alshikh (Commentary on Exodus 28, s.v. v’hayya) also seems to follow b’safah berurah, u-v’ne’imah k’doshah.

Further, Rabbi Joseph Karo (Bet Yosef on Tur, Orah Hayyim 59, s.v. katuv) cites the Orhot Hayyim who accepts the first view and adds “I heard that the leading authorities of the generation follow this version.” Likewise, Rabbi Moses Isserles, agrees (Darkhei Moshe HaKatzar, Orah Hayyim 59:2) and, in Tur, Orah Hayyim 59, n. 2 states that “this is how it is arranged in our prayerbooks.” Eighteenth century Rabbi Jacob Emden (Siddur Bet Ya’akov, Warsaw ed. 1910, p. 120) acknowledges that while some versions have the word “Kedushah” vocalized with the shuruk (vowel sound “oo”) treating it as a noun, the preferred version is to read the phrase in question as b’safah berurah u-v’nei’mah k’doshah with a pause after “berurah,” and a holom after the letter “daled,” because the word “k’doshah” is an adjective modifying “ne’imah.” And Siddur Ha–Ya’avetz, Amudei Shamayim (ed. Deutsch [2016] p. 86) has Emden punctuating the phrase in question with a comma after the word “berurah”(indicating in his notes a need for a pause) and vocalizing the noun in the ensuing phrase as “k’doshah.” Tellingly, the standard reference work for the Ashkenazi nusah, Seder Avodat Yisrael, arranged and annotated by Isaac Seligman Baer (see Robert Scheinberg, “Seligmann Baer’s Seder Avodat Yisrael (1868): Liturgy, Ideology, and the Standardization of Nusah Ashkenaz”), adopts the first view. Moreover, in his notes (ed. Rödelheim [1868], p. 78), Baer relies on Abudraham as authoritative and claims that ne’imah k’doshah was Abarbanel’s version as well. He also claims that he had a manuscript reading of RaShI on Isaiah 6:3 which does not include “Kedushah.” The Siddur Rav Shabbetai Sofer of Przemysl (or Premslow), an authoritative compendium of prayers for Polish Jewry, includes both views, with ne’imah kedushah followed by ne’imah k‘doshah in parentheses, identified as “another version.” In his notes, Sofer indicates that the parenthesized version is that of Abudraham. And, like nineteenth century Rabbi Yehiel Mikhel Epstein (Arukh HaShulhan, Orah Hayyim 59:10), former Chief Rabbi of Israel Ovadiah Yosef (Resp. Yabi’a Omer, Pt. 8, Orah Hayyim, No. 11, Sec. 15) acknowledges that there is support for both the first and second view, it seems that the latter gives greater credence to the first view.

Second, the Babylonian Talmud refers to the angelic proclamation as a “shirah” (song) and not Kedushah, as assumed by the second view. Rav Hananel cites the opinion of third century Rav (Hullin 91b) who said:

Three groups of ministering angels recite a song (shirah) every day from the verse “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord”; one says: “Holy,” and another one says: “Holy,” and another one says: “Holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory.”

There is no mention of this “song” as the Kedushah prayer. Avot D’Rabbi Natan (Version A, Chapter 12) explicitly refers to this proclamation as “shirah” as well.

Third, Hebrew grammar makes the second view problematic. If the phrase in question was intended to convey the idea that the angels above recite Kedushah clearly and melodiously, then the grammatically correct way to express that idea would be: b’safah berurah u-v’ne’imah, kulam k’ehad, onim v’omrim Kedushah b’yir’ah. Thus, the translation would be: “with clear speech and melodiously, all the angels together would respond and say the Kedushah in trepidation.” The extant word order does not support this reading. In simpler terms, Kedushah is the object of the sentence and must follow after subject and verb. Saying “Kedushah: all together they respond and say,” as the proponents of the second view would have readers do, is both awkward and ungrammatical. Indeed, this is precisely what Baer (op. cit.) states, describing it as “dohak ha-lashon,” difficult language.

Solomonically, Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef (op. cit.) concludes that either way, the first view or the second view, is acceptable. But which is “correct?” Ideally, worshippers should adopt the first view and follow the text as was printed in the Birnbaum and De Sola Pool prayerbooks as well as those published by or for the Conservative movement. (Why the Rabbinical Council of America pivoted away from the original De Sola Pool prayerbook is a mystery.) However, it is entirely proper to follow the text of the synagogue where one is worshipping. Maimonides (Resp. RaMBaM, No. 181) rules that congregational unity is more important than loyalty to the established text. The view of Rabbi Moses Schreiber is also apropos. Asked which mode of prayer is preferred, Ashkenazic or Sephardic, he answers that the Sephardic is preferred but “what we pray according to the formulations of Ashkenazi prayer is heard [by God] as well” (Resp. Hatam Sofer, Orah Hayyim, No. 15). Here, too, we may have the assurance that whichever way the disputed phrase is articulated, God will accept it in the spirit it is offered.

Eliezer and Joseph ben Naphtali Hertz Treves:
Hebrew Publishers, briefly, in the Mid-Sixteenth Century^[1]

Marvin J. Heller

A Hebrew press was briefly active in Thiengen (Tiengen) in 1560. The publishers, from the distinguished rabbinic Treves family, were Eliezer and Joseph ben Naphtali Hertz Treves. The brothers only published six (possibly seven) books before being forced to close by a meeting of the leaders, both Protestant and Catholic, of the Swiss Confederation in June 1560, who feared that they were about to print the Talmud.^[2]

The Treves family was noted for the many rabbinic scholars and communal leaders it produced over several centuries. Yehoshua Horowitz, in his description of the family history, informs that the family origin may have been in Troyes, France and subsequently in Italy and Germany. A second possibility is Treviso near Venice, Italy, in the 14^th century, and yet another is that the family came from Trier, Germany (Trèves in French).^[3] Isidore Singer, et. al., record forty-one distinguished members of the family, writing that “No other family can boast such a continuous line of scholars as this one, branches of which have been known under the names Treves, Tribas, Dreifuss, Trefouse, and Drifzan. There exists, however, no means of tracing the connection of these various branches, which even as early as the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries were already scattered over Germany, Italy, southern France, Greece, Poland, and Russia.”^[4]

The earliest known Treves is Johanan ben Mattithiah Treves, chief rabbi of France (c. 1385 – 1394), who, after the expulsion of the Jews from France in 1394, resettled in Italy, where he passed away on July 21, 1439. A responsum on the prayers of orphans for their deceased parents, and a letter addressed to the community of Padua, are still extant in manuscript in the Florence Library (Bibliothecæ Hebraicæ Florentinæ Catalogus, p. 426). Several members of the family were employed in printing presses in Italy, among them Johanon Treves at the Bomberg, Sabbioneta and Bologna presses (and later partnered with Ovadiah Seforno. As well as a scholar in his own right. Like his relative, Yochanan authored a commentary to the Siddur that was published in Bologna in 1540 and Raphael ben Johanon, rabbi of Ferrara, as editor and proofreader in Sabbioneta.^[5]

Our Treves of primary interest are Joseph and Eliezer ben Naphtali Hertz Treves (1495–1566),^[6] who operated the press in Thiengen. The latter served in the rabbinate in Frankfurt am Main for approximately twenty-two years. He was considered among the leading rabbis of his generation. In 1558, Kaiser Friedrich I assigned Eliezer to a committee of three rabbis to resolve the controversy surrounding the election of the chief rabbi position in Prague. committee to register the votes of Prague Jewry for the chief rabbi position. A renowned Talmudist and a Kabbalist, Eliezer became an adherent of several pseudo-Messiahs, namely Asher Lemlein (Lemmlein), who appeared in the sixteenth century; Eliezer attributed the non-fulfilment of Lemmlein’s prophecy concerning the Messiah to “circumstances other than fraud.”^[7] In 1561, Eliezer, a collector of manuscripts, went to Cracow, where he transcribed Solomon Molko’s commentaries.^[8][9]

Eliezer had printed previously, briefly, in Zurich. His imprints were an all-Yiddish Josippon and Sefer Hayira (both 1546), as well as a Yiddish Psalms. Dr Moshe Nathan Rosenfeld informs that the same vignette was used in Zürich with the Yiddish Psalms (1558), as well as in Tiengen. He writes that “at a meeting of the Eidgenossenschaft in Baden the Catholic representatives of Luzern, accused their Zürich colleagues of allowing the sale of anti-Christian pamphlets in the streets of Zürich.” This resulted in Treves relocating to Thiengen, with the permission of the Count of Sulz, leaving his Yiddish types behind.^[10]

Joseph Treves, born in 1490, added an introduction and glosses to their father’s prayer-book, which they published, as well as the publication of the Midrash Ha-Ne’elam on Ruth, under the title Yesod Shirim.

Their father, Naphtali Hirz or Hirtz Shatz (1473-c.1540)^[11] was a kabbalist and rabbinic scholar, who served as hazzan and rabbinic judge in Frankfurt am Main. He authored a kabbalistic commentary on the prayer-book, entitled Dikduk Tefillah, printed with the prayer-book, Malah ha’Aretz Deah and Naftulei Elokim (Heddernheim, 1546) and a super commentary and index on R. Bahya ben Asher (1255-1340) on the Pentateuch.^[12] The former work, Dikduk Tefillah, a kabbalistic interpretation of the prayer book, reflects the rise in messianic and Kabbalah currents in Ashkenazic Jewry. As Michael A. Meyer writes, “Dikduk Tefillah (The Precise Interpretation of Prayer, 1560), reflects a rise in such tendencies.”^[13] These tendencies are evident in Eliezer’s interests, as shown above.

Naftulei Elokim

Turning to Thiengen, now Waldshut-Tiengen, home to our press of interest. It is located in Baden Germany, that is southwestern Baden-Württemberg at the border of Switzerland, north of Zurzach. Jews were likely resident there in the 14th century. In 1650, eight Jewish families received a letter of protection allowing them to conduct trade but not open stores. There was continuous friction with the local population through the 18^th century. Jews were only welcome in public from 1870.^[14]

Eliezer, together with his brother, Joseph,^[15] established their Hebrew press in the small town of Thiengen in 1559 to print kabbalistic treatises, but primarily their father’s commentary, Malah ha’Aretz Deah. As noted above, the press was active for one year only, issuing six books in 1560 and, perchance, one title in 1566, a reprint of the previous edition of the piyyut (liturgical hymn) Shir ha-Yihud (Hymnerchandce, Divine Unity).^[16] Printing in Thiengen had been permitted by the Count of Sulz. However, complaints were brought by the burghers, afraid of damages because of the press, to the Bishop of Constance. He initially, in a vague response, permitted the press to continue to operate. However, when, the matter was brought before a meeting of the leaders of the Swiss Confederation in June, 1560, to which Thiengen was subject, they demanded its closure, fearing that the Talmud was to be printed there.

Another brother was Samuel, who relocated to Russia and took the family name of Zevi. He was the author of Yesod Shirim (below) on the Book of Ruth. Samuel’s sons were Eliezer, author of distinguished works, among them Dammesek Eliezer (Lublin, 1646) on tractate Hullin and Si’ah ha-Sadeh (ibid., 1645), a collection of prayers.

Kimḥa de-Avishuna

Another Treves of interest, although his relationship to our Treves family is not clear, is R. Johanan ben Joseph Treves (c. 1490–1557). A peripatetic rabbi, he wandered for twenty years in northern and central Italy, where he served as a religious instructor and rabbi in various communities in northern and central Italy. An author and publisher, Johanan Treves wrote responsa, is credited with the commentary, Kimha de-Avishuna (Bologna, 1540) on the Roman rite festival prayer book, published anonymously, as well as several halakhic works, among them glosses to the Alfasi and commentary on the laws of shehitah au-vedikah. Johanan Treves reputedly was employed in the Hebrew press in Bologna from 1537 to 1541 and, perchance, from 1545–46, as a proofreader in Daniel Bomberg’s press in Venice (noted above).^[17]

The books published in Thiengen are few in number. Yeshayahu Vinograd, in the Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book, records seven titles only, all but one printed in 1560, and a single title published in 1566, which, as noted above and we shall see below, is questionable. The varied books printed in Thiengen, in alphabetical (Hebrew) order, are:

אדם שכלי Adam Sedkheli – Kabbalistic and philosophic treatise by R. Simeon ben Samuel. Of French or German birth, Simeon ben Samuel lived in the fourteenth – fifteenth centuries. Adam Sedkheli was published in quarto format (4⁰: 24 ff.).

Adam Sedkheli
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

The text of the title page is set within a woodcut architectural frame. The two upper corners have shields, the right shield with a key, the left a double-headed eagle, the symbol of the Holy Roman Empire, likely indicating that Thiegen was not a free city but under the direct auspices of the Empire. Simeon added the subtitle, Hadrath Kodesh, because his name, given as שמעון בן שמואל ז”ל יסדו (1012) plus the number of letters in the title (7) equals the phrase Hadrath Kodesh הדרת קודש (=1019).^[18] It is that name that appears as the header in the volumes’ text pages. The intent of the book, as stated on the title page, is to save souls from destruction.

Adam Sedkheli is on the Decalogue, thirteen attributes of God (shelosh esreh middot), thirteen articles of faith, and resurrection, with a commentary by the author. The book, written about 1400, is completed with a poetic kabbalistic entreaty, Or Kadmon, which exhorts God to “[further] rescue us from the cruel decrees [following] the four miracles [performed] for us this year [1400].”^[19] The miracles are enumerated as:

Salvation from a decree of death in the Jubilee year

Rescue from thousands, all dressed in white

Deliverance from the murderous brigades of Geislsler

the abdication of the “Shameful King [Wentzel], who persecuted us for many years.

The printers’ names do not appear on Adam Sedkheli nor on several of the other books printed in Thiengen. In the absence of another press in this small community, however, it may be assumed that they were responsible for those works as well. David Gans, in Zemah David, notes that Eliezer died in Frankfort in 1563.^[20]

Adam Sedkheli has been reprinted several times. Ch. B. Friedberg records seven editions in the Bet Eked Sepharim, beginning with a Lublin (1599) edition through a Warsaw (1915) edition.^[21]

בגידת הזמן (משכיל על דבר ימצא טוב) Begidat Hazman – An allegoric maqāma (a poetic narrative in rhymed prose) by Mattathias (Mattityah ben Moses), a 15th century Spanish or Provençal Hebrew poet or Mattathias ha-Yiẓhari, a representative of the Jewish communities of Aragon at the Tortosa disputation (1413–14). This, the first edition of Begidat Hazman, was published in octavo format (8⁰: [26] pp.).

Begidat Hazman
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

The title page, with a pillared frame with cherubim, has the heading “מַשְׂכִּ֣יל עַל־דָּ֭בָר יִמְצָא־ט֑וֹב וּבוֹטֵ֖חַ בַּיהֹוָ֣ה אַשְׁרָֽיו He who is adept in a matter will attain success; Happy is he who trusts in the Lord (Proverbs 12:20).” Below it the text continues “For I will give all good things, and I will give the way of traitors. I will pour out my spirit, and I will declare to the multitude my words of the betrayal of time בגידת הזמן (Begidat Hazman); the words of Mattathias from captivity.” Here too the title-page header is not the book title.

Begidat ha-Zeman was written in c. 1450. It is described as having “a clear pedagogic, apologetic, and moral purpose. . . . It is written in the first person and the personal element is important. The author repents the sins of his youth, describing his experiences, writing that he speaks from his heart, so that his tale might serve as a warning.”^[22]

Mattathias is also credited as being the author of Ahituv ve-Zlmon, also a maqāma, similar in style to Begidat ha-Zeman, written prior 1453, inspired by the religious disputations held in Spain. He is also credited with a commentary on Psalm 119 with references to the disputation, and a commentary to Pirkei Avot (preserved in part only).

Ch. B. Friedberg records three subsequent editions of Begidat ha-Zeman, published in Prague (1609), Amsterdam (1650), and Offenbach (1714).^[23]

יסוד שירים Yesod Shirim – Our next title, Yesod Shirim, was written by Naphtali Hirz’s son Samuel. He was, as noted above, the brother who settled in Russia. Samuel authored Yesod Shirim, a kabbalistic commentary on the Book of Ruth, literal and kabbalistic explanations.^[24] It was published in 19 c. ([32] ff.).

Yesod Shirim
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Here too the title-page has a pillared frame with images of cherubim, unlike those employed on the title-pages of Begidat ha-Zeman (above), and Malah ha-Aretz De’ah and Shir ha-Yihud (below). The header on the title-page, in large bold letters, is given as Tapuchei Zahav, from “Like golden apples (Tapuchei Zahav) in silver showpieces is a phrase well turned (Proverbs 25:11).” Below the brief title-page text continues “behold, this is a new thing… and hidden secrets, the taste of Marut, the secret of the Kingdom of the House of David, head of the poets. Therefore, I entitled it Yesod Shirim.” Within the text, set in a single column in rabbinic letters, the page header is Yesod Shirim.

Yesod Shirim, as noted above, is on Megillat Ruth. But it is not a commentary, rather it is Midrash ha-Ne’elam, the first printing of that section of the Zohar on Ruth. The colophon states that it was printed in Thiengen by the oppressed Joseph ben Naphtali on Sunday, 23 Teves 320 (January 10, 1560). Why oppressed (עשוק) is unclear.

מלאה הארץ דעה Malah ha-Aretz De’ah – The siddur (prayerbook) prepared by R. Naphtali Hirz Treves. Malah ha-Aretz De’ah was published in octavo format (8⁰: [242] pp.). The text of the title-page has an attractive frame with cherubim at the sides.

Malah ha-Aretz De’ah
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

The title מלאה הארץ דעה is from “For the land shall be filled with devotion (malah ha-aretz de’ah) [to God]” and below it the verse continues “As water covers the sea” (Isaiah 11:9).^[25] The text of the title-page continues that it is tefillah (prayer) for the entire year with an attractive commentary as well as a commentary in a kabbalistic manner by R. [Naphtali] Hirz [Treves]. Malah ha-Aretz De’ah is an Ashkenaz rite siddur. The text of the volume is in vocalized square letters accompanied by the commentary in rabbinic letters.

In addition to Naphtali Hirz Treves’ use of kabbalistic works in preparing his commentary to the siddur, he utilized several other sources, among the most important of which was R. Eleazar of Worms (c. 1176–1238) Sefer ha-Rokeah, an important and classic halachic and kabbalistic work.^[26] Among his other sources was the Maharil (R. Jacob Moelin (c. 1365 –1427) and R. Bahya. Malah ha-Aretz De’ah closely follows the liturgy of Hasidei Ashkenaz. The commentary is extensive and lengthy.

Malah ha-Aretz De’ah was reprinted three times; two editions in Beni Brak, 1971 and 2004 and by Renaissance Hebraica c. 2000. The Renaissance Hebraica edition includes an alternative title page border. It reuses the border from Begidat Hazman.

מלכיאל Malkiel – A multi-faceted philosophical and ethical work on the afterlife, reward and punishment, and comforting Zion by R. Malkiel Hezkiah ben Abraham. Printed in quarto format (4⁰: 22 pp.), the text of the title-page is concise, set in a decorative border. The purpose of Malkiel is described as being intended to understand the words of the sages.

Malkiel
Courtesy of the Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak

Malkiel addresses such subjects as Gan Eden and Gehinom for the souls and body after death. The concealed meaning of pairs is explained, and the issue of “the tree of knowledge of good and evil” (Genesis 2:9) that the Lord prohibited to the first man and the reasons for his sin. Also explicated are the Garden of Eden, the Tree of Knowledge, Og King of Bashan and additional enigmatic aggadic materials. Additional subjects based on the words of the sages in the Talmud and Midrashim are addressed. The text is in a single column in rabbinic letters.

This is the first printing of Malkiel. Friedberg records seven later editions, beginning with Offenbach (1715) through Vilna and Grodno (1819).^[27]

שיר היחוד Shir ha-Yihud – Shir ha-Yihud (Hymn of Divine Unity) is an anonymous piyyut (liturgical poem) written in the mid-twelfth century, most often attributed to Samuel ben Kalonymus he-Hasid (c. 1130-1175), less often to his son, Judah ben Samuel he-Hasid (c. 1150-1217), author of the Sefer Hasidim, both among the foremost representatives of the Hasidei Ashkenaz, and, on occasion, to yet others. This edition was published in quarto format (4⁰: 20 ff.). The title-page has the same frame with cherubim as Begidat Hazman (above).

Although there exist several piyyuttim entitled Shir ha-Yihud, this is the most well-known. Unlike most early manuscript versions of the Shir, which were divided into chapters, later versions, and all printed editions, are divided by the days of the week, one for each day, praising God and his uniqueness, in contrast to the insignificance of man. Lines are divided into rhymed couplets, with four beats to a couplet The fourth day differs from the other days in that it is the only day for which the verses are arranged in alphabetic order; however, the number of lines to a letter are not equal. Shir ha-Yihud is, philosophically, based on the Sefer ha-Emunot ve-ha-De’ot of R. Saadiah Gaon (882-942), a fact acknowledged on the title page.

Shir ha-Yihud
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

It is customary, today, to recite Shir ha-Yihud on Yom Kippur eve, at the end of services, its more frequent repetition being opposed by a number of rabbinic figures, such as R. Jacob Emden (16971776), R. Solomon Luria (1510-1574) and Rabbi Judah Loew (Maharal, 1525-1609). The latter restricting it to Yom Kippur only, a “day set aside for praise of God, when a person is on a higher level, comparable to an angel” (Netivot Ovodah ch. 12, Netivot Olam).

The text of Shir ha-Yihud is accompanied by the commentary of Yom Tov Lipman Muelhausen (14th-15th centuries). Muelhausen was a dayyan in Prague, a highly respected halakhist and kabbalist. His most famous work is the Sefer ha-Nizzahon, a polemic against Christianity, passed down by hand from generation to generation, until a monk, Theodore Hackspan, seized a copy from the rabbi of Schneittach. Hackspan translated Nizzahon into Latin, added notes in attempt to refute its arguments, and had it printed (Altdorf, 1644). A Jewish edition did not appear until 1701. In a brief introduction to Shir ha-Yihud, Muelhausen writes that he has seen many commentaries on this holy work, but found them to be “straw mixed with grain.” Noting that these are inadequate, not explaining the intent of the author, he asks, “help from the Helper, my Rock, the Almighty, and I will write here all that I received, “mouth to mouth” (Numbers 12:8) from those who know the truth.” ^[28]

1566 שיר היחוד Shir ha-Yihud – A improbable edition of Shir ha-Yihud is listed in the Thesaurus as the seventh Thiengen imprint. It is also recorded by Isaac Benjacob in Otzar ha-Sefarim (Vilna, 1880) together with the previous 1560 printing.^[29] Nevertheless, it is improbable that six years after the press was forced to close it should reopen and publish a single work, identical to one of its previous titles. Furthermore, no library records a copy of this edition. Perchance, the entry was a misreading of the early printing, copied by bibliographers and then recopied, so that in some circles it was accepted as a valid edition.^[30]

The books printed in Thiengen, small in number, are nevertheless diverse. Subject matter is varied, encompassing kabbalistic and philosophic works, an allegoric maqāma, a kabbalistic commentary on the Book of Ruth, the siddur prepared by R. Naphtali Hirz Treves, and a liturgical poem. An unusual and interesting aspect of several of the Thiengen imprints is that the large lead phrase on the title-page is not the book title, which follows later in a smaller text font.

The publishers were prominent rabbis from a distinguished rabbinic family. The books printed within the span of one year, to be repetitive, are rich and varied. Thiengen, as so many other small short-lived presses, deserves to be recalled, having made a short lived but valuable contribution to Hebrew literature.

1. Once again, I would like to express my gratitude and appreciation to Eli Genauer for his insightful comments. ↑
2. Stephen G. Burnett, “The Regulation of Hebrew Printing in Germany 1555-1630” in Infinite Boundaries: Order, Disorder and reorder in early Modern German Culture, ed. M. Reinhart & T. Robisheux, Sixteenth century Essays and Studies, no. 40 (Kirksville, 1998), pp. 329-30. ↑
3. Yehoshua Horowitz, “Treves,” Encyclopedia Judaica, (Jerusalem, 2007), vol. 20 pp. 134-35. See generally, Marcus Horovitz, Rabbanei Frankfurt (Jerusalem, 1972), 21-26; Nahum Brüll, “Das Geshiechet der Treves,” in Jahrbücher für jüdische Geschichte und Litteratur (Year 1, 1874), 87-122; and his additions, id., (Year 2, 1876), 209-10; Tzvi Lehrer, Tolodot Naphtali Hertz Treves,” in Hetzei Geborim, 7, (2014), 485-95. ↑
4. Isidore Singer, Schulim Ochser, Frederick T. Haneman, Richard Gottheil, Isaac Broyde, “Treves,” Jewish Encyclopedia vol. 12 (New York, 1901-06), pp. 243-48. ↑
5. David Amram, The Makers of Hebrew Books in Italy (Philadelphia, 1909, reprint London, 1963), pp. 205, 291. ↑
6. There is uncertainty about his birth and death dates. Horovitz, Rabbanei, 191-92. ↑
7. According to R David Gans, Eliezer attributed the failure to “the sins of the generation.” David Gans, Zemah David (Prague, 1592), Asher Lemlein (Lammlin) (16th century) was a false messiah active in 1500–02. Of Ashkenazi origin, Lemlein began his activities in northeast Italy, continuing in Germany. He claimed that, the redemption was approaching because the Messiah, Lemlein himself, had already come. Even some Christians accepted his Messianic prophecy. After his passing his movement ceased. Richard Gottheil, Isaac Broydé, “Lemmlein (Lammlin), Asher,” vol. 7, Jewish Encyclopedia, p. 680; “Lemlein (Lammlin), Asher,” vol. 12, Encyclopedia Judaica, p. 638. Dan Rabinowitz informed that Eliezer was living in Cracow already and transcribed the letters because he was caught up in the Messianic speculation. In 1531, he wrote to his father Naphtali, about the religious fever Molcho introduced into the general public. See Naphtali Hertz Treves, Malah ha-Aretz De’ah. ↑
8. Mordechai Margalioth, ed., Encyclopedia of Great Men in Israel I (Tel Aviv, 1986), col. 190 [Hebrew]; Isidore Singer, Schulim Ochser, Frederick T. Haneman, Richard Gottheil, Isaac Broyde, “Treves,” Jewish Encyclopedia vol. 12 (New York, 1901-06), pp. 243-48. Horovitz, Rabbanei 22-28, who provides the most comprehensive discussion regarding Eliezer. ↑
9. Solomon Molcho (1500-32) was born Diogo Pires to Marrano parents. He circumcised himself, became a follower of David Reubeni, who claimed to be the son of a King Solomon and brother of a King Joseph ruler of the lost tribes of Reuben, Gad, and half Manasseh in the desert of Habor. At some point he too claimed to be the Messiah. His sermons were published, Derashot (Salonika, 1529) and subsequently as Sefer ha-Mefo’ar. In 1532, Molcho went to Ratisbon, where the emperor Charles V imprisoned him. An ecclesiastical court sentenced Molcho to death by fire for Judaizing. He was offered a pardon by the emperor on the condition that he recant and return to the church. Molcho refused, choosing a martyr’s death. (Isidore Singer, Philipp Bloch, “Molko, Solomon,” vol. 8 JE, p. 651); Joseph Shochetman] “Molcho, Solomon,” vol. 14 EJ pp. 423-24. Elisheva Carlebach, “Messianism,” The YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe, Gershon David Hundert, ed. Vol. 1 (New Haven & London, 2008), p. 1160, informs that Molcho left a deep impression on Ashkenazic Jews. His messianic flag and caftan were preserved by the Jews of Prague and can still be seen there today. Concerning both false messiahs also see Moses Idel, Messianic Mystics (New Haven & London, 1998) and Gershom S. Scholem, Sabbatai Sevi; the Mystical Messiah (Princeton, 1973), var. cit. ↑
10. Dr Moshe Nathan Rosenfeld, “The Identity of an unknown Yiddish Prayer Book (From Zürich to Zürich),” Seforim Blog (February 18, 2025). ↑
11. He died prior to 1546 because, in Yesod Shirim, published that year, he is referred to as already deceased. But the exact year of his death is unknown. See Lehrer, Tolodot, 494n106. ↑
12. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naphtali_Hirsch_Treves. See also, Horovitz, Rabbanei, 21. Naftulei Elokim is one of two books printed in Heddernheim, a quarter of Frankfurt am Main. the other work being a Selihot, also printed in 1546, both published by a Hayyim ben Joseph (Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. Listing of Books Printed in Hebrew Letters Since the Beginning of Printing circa 1469 through 1863 II (Jerusalem, 1993-95), p. 158. ↑
13. Michael A. Meyer, editor, German Jewish History in modern Times, vol. 1 Tradition and Enlightenment 1600-1780 (1996 New York) p. 72. ↑
14. “Tiengen,” The Encyclopedia of Jewish life Before and During the Holocaust, editor in chief, Shmuel Spector; consulting editor, Geoffrey Wigoder; foreword by Elie Wiesel, vol. 3, p.1306. ↑
15. Some question whether they were related or just shared similarly named fathers. See Lehrer, “Tolodot,” 295n110. ↑
16. Friedberg, Ch. B. History of Hebrew Typography of the following Cities in Europe: Amsterdam, Antwerp, Avignon, Basle, Carlsruhe, Cleve, Coethen, Constance, Dessau, Deyhernfurt, Halle, Isny, Jessnitz, Leyden, London, Metz, Strasbourg, Thiengen, Vienna, Zurich. From its beginning in the year 1516 (Antwerp, 1937), [Hebrew]; Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. II p. 3394 ↑
17. Yehoshua Horowitz, “Treves, Johanan ben Joseph,” EJ, vol. 20, p. 135. ↑
18. Executive Committee of the Editorial Board.,M. Seligsohn, “Simeon ben Samuel,” Jewish Encyclopedia vol. 11, p. 357. ↑
19. Marvin J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus vol. II (Brill, Leiden, 2004), pp. 504-05. ↑
20. David Gans, Zemah David (New York, n. d.), I, yr. 1563 [Hebrew].As Brüll notes, this is an error. Likely reversing the letter “gimal” and “zayin.” ↑
21. Ch. B. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sepharim, (Israel, n. d), alef 629 [Hebrew]. ↑
22. Yonah David/Angel Sáenz-Badillos, “Mattathias (or Mattityah ben Moses?)” vol. 13 EJ, pp. 685-86. ↑
23. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sepharim, bet 243. Concerning the Prague edition, Gavin McDowell, “A Genealogy of Errors: Targum Pseudo-Yonatan’s Commentary Tradition” (https://books.openedition.org/ephe/2868?lang=en) informs that Shabbetai Bass (1641-1718), author of the first bibliography of Hebrew books by a Jewish author, in his Siftei Yeshenim (Amsterdam, 1680) misdated Begidat ha-Zeman. Acording to McDowell “The tally of the numeric value of these letters is 369 (80 + 5 + 80 + 200 + 1 + 3), which is 1608/09 of the Christian calendar. Bass forgot to count the word פה, reducing the date by 85 years and resulting in the year 284, which is 1524 CE.” ↑
24. Yehoshua Horowitz, EJ vol, 20 p. 134. ↑
25. The exact title is subject to some confusion and debate. The enlarged words on the title page, Malah ha-Aretz De’ah, would normally indicate it is the title. But, some of the other Thengin prints like Sod Yesharim, the enlarged letters, in that instance, Tapuchei Zahav, are not the title. Following Ben Jacob, Friedberg, in Bet Eked Sepharim refers to it Tefilot me-Kol ha-Shana Minhag Ashkenaz. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sepharim, Taf 1711. Yet, he is cited in many rabbinic texts as Siddur Rav Hirtz Shatz, and the two Beni Brak reprints use that title. See Lehrer, Tolodot, 492. Naphtali, in his introduction, titles the work Dikduk Tefilah. Unlike the printer’s introduction that precedes the work, Naphtali’s does not appear until after P’sukei D’Zimra, and may have been overlooked. ↑
26. The entire commentary for P’sukei D’Zimra are from Eleazar. See “Editor’s Note,” Hetzei Geborim, 8(2015), 1121. ↑
27. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sepharim, mem 2094. ↑
28. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book, p. 518-19; Joseph Dan, ed., Shir Hayihud (Jerusalem, 1981), pp. xii-ix and 7-26 [Hebrew with English introduction]; and A. M. Habermann, Shir ha-Yihud ve-ha-Kovod (Jerusalem, 1958), pp. 11-12 [Hebrew]. See also Abraham Berliner, “Shir ha-Yihud,” in Ketavim Nivharim I (Jerusalem, 1945), pp. 145-70 [Hebrew]. ↑
29. Isaac Benjacob in Otzar ha-Sefarim (Vilna, 1880), p. 183 no. 475 [Hebrew]. ↑
30. Concerning the misdating and other errors in the publishing of Hebrew books see Marvin J. Heller, “Who can discern his errors? Misdates, Errors, and Deceptions, in and about Hebrew Books, Intentional and Otherwise” Hakirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought 12 (2011), pp. 269-91, reprinted in Further Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Leiden/Boston, 2013), pp. 395-420; ibid. “Who can discern his errors? Misdates, Errors, Deceptions, and other Variations in and about Hebrew Books, Intentional and Otherwise: Revisited,” Seforimblog, Sunday, July 03, 2016, reprinted in Essays on the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Leiden/Boston, 2020, pp. 507-36. ↑

The Jewish Review of Books recently published its Fall issue, which features several excellent articles, including a discussion of the recently published Chaim Grade novel. Below is a reprint of an article from their Summer issue, “Golden Ledgers” by Dan Rabinowitz, with a short postscript.
Seforim Blog readers can get a 50% discount on a subscription to the Jewish Review of Books by using this link. 

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Golden Ledgers
by: Dan Rabinowitz

To get to the Judaica Research Centre archives in the Martynas Mažvydas National Library of Lithuania, you have to navigate through a series of passageways, across dark, empty rooms, and step over high thresholds. As your eyes adjust to the light, you are welcomed by rows of metal shelves filled with stacks of thousands of documents and dozens of bankers boxes overflowing with papers.

I was there again last summer looking for new material about Vilna’s Strashun Bibliotek, the first Jewish public library. I wrote a book about the Strashun Library a few years ago, but I was sure that there was more to learn. Lara Lempertiene, the director of Judaica, had set aside some correspondence related to the library for me, along with four large volumes. There didn’t seem to be much in the letters, so I turned to the books. They were ledgers, really, two of which bore some kind of Russian governmental red wax seal on the title page. The other two were water stained, and the cover of one was severely warped. My hands quickly blackened with dust and dirt accumulated over decades as I turned the books’ pages. They appeared to record a partial listing of the Strashun Library’s holdings, which had begun with a bequest from an erudite, idiosyncratic Torah scholar named Mattityahu Strashun. At first glance, these lists were interesting in the variety of books listed but didn’t seem to yield anything new.

 By then, it was almost time for my lunch date with Andrius Romanovskis at the Neringa Hotel, a recently restored midcentury modern building from the Soviet era (and a one-time favorite of the KGB). Andrius runs a lobbying firm, and his glamorous wife, Irina Rybakova, works in the fashion industry. Between the two of them, they seem to know everyone who is anyone in the city. Whenever we sit down for coffee, the acquaintances stop by our table—Lithuania’s former interim president; a TV broadcaster; a hipster couple; a photographer; the curator of MO, Vilnius’s museum of modern art; a government studies student; and a leading professor of modern propaganda. But Andrius, who comes from a Turkish Karaite family (the community has been in Lithuania since the fourteenth century), is deeply interested in Lithuania’s Jews, and after lunch we decided to walk back to the center.

I introduced Andrius to Lara, but, of course, they were already acquainted. We opened one of the large black books with the dramatic wax seals. On the title page was a handwritten Cyrillic inscription, which Andrius quickly translated as “A Ledger to Record All Printed Works, Without Exception, Issued for Reading from the Library of the Reading Room Located in the Building of the Vilna Main Synagogue.” When he did so, we suddenly realized what we actually had before us. These ledgers did not record the books on the shelves. Their thousands of pages were a daily record of every patron at the Strashun Library and the books they had requested for the day. What we had discovered was not a catalog of books; it was a lost catalog of Jewish intellectual culture in action.

In 1895, Russian government censors began monitoring library reading rooms throughout the empire for subversive literature. When the Strashun Library opened to the public in 1902, it was no exception. The wax seals I had seen on the title page of the volumes were from the censor’s office. Librarians were required to maintain a ledger documenting every patron and the books they read in the library’s reading room; it wasn’t a lending library—all books had to be read at one of two long tables, with chairs available on a democratic first-come-first-served basis. Even after the fall of the Russian Empire, the librarians maintained the ledger system.

The library opened its doors on November 14, 1902. According to the ledger, the first book requested was Otzar Lashon Hakodesh by Julius Fürst, a German Jewish Hebraist who had studied with Hegel and Gesenius. A patron named Aaron Spiro requested the book, which was from Strashun’s original collection and probably could not have been found anywhere else in the city, certainly not in any Vilna yeshiva or beit midrash. The fifty-six other books requested that day included kabbalistic works by Chaim Vital, Heinrich Graetz’s History of the Jews, and the Hebrew writer Abraham Mapu’s second novel.

In 1902, only a few women came to the library, but their numbers steadily grew. By January 17, 1934, the third ledger records forty-five women among the 150 patrons. A woman named Shayna checked out Jabotinsky’s historical novel Samson, Zipporah studied Dubnow’s History of the Jews in Yiddish, and Shoshana read Max Nordau’s play about intermarriage. Two women, Gita and Rivkah, took out Yiddish translations of novels by the Norwegian Nobel Prize winner Knut Hamsun.

In September 1939, following the Nazis’ invasion of Poland from the west and the Soviet Union’s invasion from the east, the Soviets briefly occupied Vilna. However, a few months later, they withdrew, and Vilna became the capital of an independent Lithuania. Tens of thousands of Jews from Poland, Lithuania, and Russia fled there, hoping to eventually escape the continent entirely. Briefly, improbably, Jewish life flourished.

Yitzhak Ze’ev Soloveitchik, known as Reb Velvel or the Brisker Rov, was one of those refugees and one of many new scholars in the library. His father, Chaim, had revolutionized Talmud study with his method of conceptual analysis, brilliantly exemplified in his commentary on Maimonides’s Mishneh Torah, and Reb Velvel had followed in his analytical path. On the afternoon of October 1, 1940, Reb Velvel came to the Strashun Library with his teenage son Raphael. Raphael checked out Iggeret Ha-Shemad, Maimonides’s impassioned defense of his fellow Spanish Jews who had been forced to convert to Islam. This is the kind of book one might expect Reb Chaim Brisker’s grandson to borrow at that particularly fraught time—a deeply relevant Maimonidean work that one couldn’t find on the shelves of a beit midrash. His father’s reading for the day was more surprising: I. L. Peretz’s short stories about Hasidim, perhaps the most famous of which was Oyb nisht nokh hekher (If Not Higher), which depicts a skeptical Litvak who comes to appreciate a Hasidic rebbe but also mocks Hasidic miracles. From the yeshivish hagiographies that were later written about Reb Velvel, one would never guess that the Litvak rosh yeshiva would read fiction by a radical secularist about the virtues of Hasidim. But the history of actual human lives is always more interesting than hagiography.

The Brisker Rov sat at the reading room table with his Peretz stories alongside the mixed multitude of Jewish readers that day. Two of them were a couple, Hayim and Hanna, who were reading Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina in Yiddish. Another was Dovid, who was studying the Minhat Hinukh, a commentary on a classic exposition of the commandments. A fourth reader had Graetz’s History. A few months later, Reb Velvel and his son succeeded in escaping Europe for Palestine. He founded the Brisk Yeshivah in Jerusalem and was never seen again in the company of such a diverse group.

The final book ledger concludes on October 31, 1940, with 128 books requested, including Shakespeare’s Complete Dramatic Works in English, several dozen rabbinic books—among them Chaim Soloveitchik’s Chidushei Rav Chaim ha-Levi, a Yiddish translation of Tolstoy’s Resurrection, Yosef Klausner’s Hebrew biography of Jesus, and a handful of Hebrew newspapers.

The last book—the 35,844th, borrowed in 1940—was a Yiddish biography of Joseph Stalin. It was borrowed by Zalman Raynus (Reinus). All of Raynus’s numerous previous requests were for traditional rabbinic works. Did he choose to read about Stalin to understand what was coming? Whatever the reason behind Raynus’s reading of Stalin’s biography, the dictator’s policies led to the shuttering of the Strashun Library. I know of no other historical trace of Zalman Raynus. He does not appear in any state archival or genealogical records, nor is he listed among the murdered Jews.

When the Nazis entered Vilna the following summer of 1941, they murdered most of Vilna’s Jews in the Ponary massacre and pillaged the library. But even as Nazis tore through the library and the community, courageous Jews hid thousands of books in secret spots, basements, and makeshift bunkers throughout the Vilna Ghetto. Among these were the ledgers that, improbably, now sat before us.

A ledger that did not survive the Gestapo’s brutal purge of the library was a VIP guest log called the Golden Book (Sefer ha-zahav). Among those who had signed it over the years were the writers Chaim Nachman Bialik, Chaim Grade, and Abraham Sutzkever (who was among the heroes who saved and recovered some of the Strashun’s holdings); artist Marc Chagall; the “Chofetz Chaim” Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan; Berl Katznelson, the founder of the Labor movement; and many, many others. But these ledgers, records of the reading habits of ordinary Jews across a broad cross section of Ashkenazi society, are even more valuable. They preserve actual data from an otherwise lost history of Jewish culture and raise a host of fascinating questions, which are now being investigated by a working group, the Strashun Library Ledger Project, which includes scholars and librarians from the National Library of Lithuania, Yale University, Haifa University’s e-Lijah Lab for Digital Humanities, and elsewhere. Most of the ledgers are still missing, although a small ledger from 1920 was recently found. It seems unlikely that we’ll discover the rest, but who knows what treasures may be hidden in bankers boxes and yellowing stacks of paper.

In her memoir of her visit to Vilna in 1938, the historian Lucy Dawidowicz described the Strashun Library:

On any day you could see, seated at the two long tables in the reading room, venerable long-bearded men, wearing hats, studying Talmudic texts, elbow to elbow with bareheaded young men and even young women, bare-armed sometimes on warm days, studying their texts.

Each of the thousands of pages of the library’s ledgers is a data-rich snapshot of such a scene—and one in which the actual reading choices of those venerable rabbis, bareheaded young men, and bare-armed young women may well surprise us.

 

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Postscript:

One account of the Brisker Rav’s time in Vilna alludes to his time at the Strashun Library. As yeshiva leaders debated whether to flee to the United States or to Palestine, supporters of the former emphasized how far removed they were from the Hitlerian threat, compared to Palestine, where Rommel was rapidly approaching. The Brisker Rav, however, argued in favor of Palestine as a place better suited for the full practice of Judaism. He based his view on Maimonides’ Ma’amar Kiddush Hashem (included with Iggeret ha-SheMad), the same work Raphael had requested from the library. The report notes that he “relied upon the Rambam that he held in his hands (she’amad ne’ged eynav).” See R Shimon Yosef Miller, Uvdot ve-Hanhagot le-Bet Brisk (Jerusalem, 1999), vol. 1, 27. Although the ledgers only record that he read Peretz, it is reasonable to assume he also consulted Raphael’s selection. (For additional information regarding the exodus to Vilna and the debate about a final destination, see Ben-Tsiyon Klibansky, The Golden Age of the Lithuanian Yeshivas (Bloomington, 2022), 265-289.) 

When refugees from Yeshivas arrived in Vilna in late 1939 and 1940, they were cared for by the Va’ad HaYeshivos. Many of the lists of those students and families are preserved in the same archive as the Strashun Ledgers at the Lithuanian National Library. Below are two documents from that archive. The first is a document that lists some of the most important rabbis, including the Brisker Rav, and their addresses in Vilna. The second document is a page from the list of students from Keltsk.

The Evolution of a “רש״י ישן” as Presented by Artscroll

Rashi Breishit 12:2 – “ואעשך לגוי גדול”

Eli Genauer

The term “רש״י ישן” in printed editions often appears after a comment recorded in parentheses. An example of this is Rashi in Breishit 12:2. Here is how it looks in the first edition of the Artscroll Stone Chumash printed in November 1993

Rashi’s comments are recorded as follows

Comment #1

ואעשך לגוי גדול. לְפִי שֶׁהַדֶּרֶךְ גּוֹרֶמֶת לִשְׁלֹשָׁה דְבָרִים, מְמַעֶטֶת פְּרִיָּה וּרְבִיָּה וּמְמַעֶטֶת אֶת הַמָּמוֹן וּמְמַעֶטֶת אֶת הַשֵּׁם, לְכָךְ הֻזְקַק לִשְׁלֹשָׁה בְּרָכוֹת הַלָּלוּ, שֶׁהִבְטִיחוֹ עַל הַבָּנִים וְעַל הַמָּמוֹן וְעַל הַשֵּׁם:

Comment #2 is attributed to ס״א (ספרים אחרים) and found in what is termed a “רש״י ישן”

]ס״א (ספרים אחרים) ואגדלה שמך הריני מוסיף אות על שמך שעד עכשׁיו שמך אברם מכאן ואילך אברהם, ואברהם עולה רמ״ח כנגד איבריו של אדם. ברש״י ישן[

One gets the impression that this comment might be more authentic than those comments normally attributed to Rashi because it was found in a “רש״י ישן”.^[1]

To understand why this comment is recorded as being from a “רש״י ישן’ one must go back to the first time it appeared as such. In this case it is an edition of Chumash and Rashi printed in Hanau 1611-1614.^[2]

The most probable source for the text as recorded in the Hanau 1611-14 edition is an edition of Chumash and Rashi printed in Lisbon in 1491. As you can see, it is recorded almost word for word the same as the Hanau edition, without the words ס״א (ספרים אחרים) at the beginning of the comment and without the words ברש״י ישן at the end.^[3]

It later appeared in an edition printed in Constantinople in 1522, also without the words ס״א (ספרים אחרים) at the beginning of the comment and without the words ברש״י ישן at the end.

And still yet in an edition in Constantinople of 1546

Why did the editors of the Hanau edition include this comment in parentheses and attribute it to a “רש״י ישן’?” Simply put because it had rarely appeared in print from 1491 until 1611 despite the fact that many other editions of Rashi had been printed. The editors most likely felt it was important to attribute the comment to something “new” they had found in old ספרים אחרים, what they called “רש״י ישן’.”^[4]

Here are some examples of texts printed between 1491 and 1611 where the comment does not appear. (Some of these editions are of Rashi alone, and others have the text of the Chumash along with Rashi)

1.Napoli 1492 7. Sabionetta 1557

2. Bomberg Venice 1518 8. Juan Di Gara Venice 1567

3. Bomberg Venice 1524-26 9. Cristoforo Zanetti Venice 1567

4. Augsburg 1534 10. Cracow 1587

5. Giustiani Venice 1548 11. Juan di Gara Venice 1590^[5]

6. Bomberg Venice 1548

After the comment was included in the Hanau edition of 1611-14, it was identified as a “רש״י ישן” from then on. Examples are:

Amsterdam 1635 (Manasseh ben Israel), Amsterdam 1680 (first edition of Siftai Chachamim), Berlin 1703, and Vienna (Netter) 1859^[6] where it appears like this

As mentioned, it appeared this way all the way up to 1993 in the Artscroll Chumash. Though important to the Hanau editors, it did not make much sense 400 years later. It might have been more helpful to tell us the source in Chazal for the comment and that is precisely what Artscroll did.

In the Enhanced Edition of 2015 – (7th Impression 2020) it looked like this

The same was true of Rashi Sapirstein Student Edition 20^th Impression -2019^[7]

Gone was the information that the comment in parentheses came from a “רש״י ישן’”, to be replaced with the helpful information that the Midrashic source for the entire comment was Breishit Rabbah 39:11. The first part of this Rashi “לְפִי שֶׁהַדֶּרֶךְ גּוֹרֶמֶת לִשְׁלֹשָׁה דְבָרִים” clearly appears there as does the idea of הריני מוסיף אות על שמך. However, though it includes the Gematria of 248, it is not the total of the name אברהם, rather it is the total of the word אֲבָרֶכְכָה. It is clear that Breishit Rabah 39:11 is not the source for the idea that new spelling of the name אברהם now equals 248.

Here is the relevant text of Breishis Rabah 39:11

אָמַר רַבִּי חִיָּא לְפִי שֶׁהַדֶּרֶךְ מַגְרֶמֶת לִשְׁלשָׁה דְבָרִים, מְמַעֶטֶת פְּרִיָּה וּרְבִיָּה, וּמְמַעֶטֶת אֶת הַיְצִיאָה, וּמְמַעֶטֶת אֶת הַשֵּׁם. מְמַעֶטֶת פְּרִיָּה וּרְבִיָּה, וְאֶעֶשְׂךָ לְגוֹי גָדוֹל. מְמַעֶטֶת אֶת הַיְצִיאָה, וַאֲבָרֶכְךָ. מְמַעֶטֶת אֶת הַשֵּׁם, וַאֲגַדְלָה שְׁמֶךָ. וּלְפוּם דְּאָמְרִין אִינְשֵׁי מִבַּיִת לְבַיִת, חֲלוּק, מֵאֲתַר לַאֲתַר, נָפֶשׁ. בְּרַם אַתְּ לֹא נֶפֶשׁ אַתְּ חָסֵר וְלֹא מָמוֹן. רַבִּי בֶּרֶכְיָה בְּשֵׁם רַבִּי חֶלְבּוֹ אָמַר, שֶׁיָּצָא מוֹנִיטִין שֶׁלּוֹ בָּעוֹלָם. אַרְבָּעָה הֵם שֶׁיָּצָא לָהֶם מוֹנִיטִין בָּעוֹלָם, אַבְרָהָם, וְאֶעֶשְׂךָ לְגוֹי גָּדוֹל, יָצָא לוֹ מוֹנִיטִין, וּמַהוּ מוֹנִיטִין שֶׁלּוֹ, זָקֵן וּזְקֵנָה מִכָּאן בָּחוּר וּבְתוּלָה מִכָּאן. יְהוֹשֻׁעַ: וַיְהִי ה’ אֶת יְהוֹשֻׁעַ וַיְהִי שָׁמְעוֹ בְּכָל הָאָרֶץ (יהושע ו’:כ”ז), יָצָא לוֹ מוֹנִיטִין בָּעוֹלָם, מַהוּ, שׁוֹר מִכָּאן וּרְאֵם מִכָּאן, עַל שֵׁם: בְּכוֹר שׁוֹרוֹ הָדָר לוֹ וְקַרְנֵי רְאֵם קַרְנָיו (דברים ל”ג:י”ז). דָּוִד: וַיֵּצֵא שֵׁם דָּוִיד בְּכָל הָאֲרָצוֹת (דברי הימים א י”ד:י”ז), יָצָא לוֹ מוֹנִיטִין בָּעוֹלָם, וּמָה הָיָה מוֹנִיטִין שֶׁלּוֹ מַקֵּל וְתַרְמִיל מִכָּאן וּמִגְדָּל מִכָּאן, עַל שֵׁם: כְּמִגְדַּל דָּוִיד צַוָּארֵךְ (שיר השירים ד’:ד’). מָרְדְּכַי: כִּי גָּדוֹל מָרְדְּכַי בְּבֵית הַמֶּלֶךְ וְשָׁמְעוֹ הוֹלֵךְ בְּכָל הַמְדִינוֹת (אסתר ט’:ד’), יָצָא לוֹ מוֹנִיטִין, וּמַה מּוֹנִיטִין שֶׁלּוֹ שַׂק וָאֵפֶר מִכָּאן וַעֲטֶרֶת זָהָב מִכָּאן.

אָמַר רַבִּי יוּדָן קוֹבֵעַ אֲנִי לְךָ בְּרָכָה בִּשְׁמוֹנֶה עֶשְׂרֵה, אֲבָל אֵין אַתְּ יוֹדֵעַ אִם שֶׁלִּי קוֹדֶמֶת אִם שֶׁלְּךָ קוֹדֶמֶת, אָמַר רַבִּי אֲחוּיָה בְּשֵׁם רַבִּי זְעֵירָא שֶׁלְּךָ קוֹדֶמֶת לְשֶׁלִּי, בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁהוּא אוֹמֵר מָגֵן אַבְרָהָם אַחַר כָּךְ מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים. רַבִּי אַבָּהוּ אָמַר הַבֶּט נָא שָׁמַיִם אֵין כְּתִיב כָּאן אֶלָּא הַשָּׁמַיְמָה (בראשית ט”ו:ה’), אָמַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא בְּהֵ”א בָּרָאתִי אֶת הָעוֹלָם הֲרֵינִי מוֹסִיף הֵ”א עַל שִׁמְךָ וְאַתְּ פָּרֶה וְרָבֶה. וְאָמַר רַבִּי יוּדָן וְהָיוּ אוֹתוֹתֶיךָ מִנְיַן אֲבָרֶכְכָה, מָאתַיִם וְאַרְבָּעִים וּשְׁמוֹנֶה

The rest of the Ma’amar “ואברהם עולה רמ״ח כנגד איבריו של אדם” is found in Medrash Tanchuma 16^[8] and in Nedarim 32b^[9]. This is reflected in the Artscroll Rashi Elucidated Edition of 2023

T

The section called שפתי ישינים in the back of this edition informs us that the first time these comments (הריני מוסיף אות על שמך) appeared in print was the Alkabetz Guadalajara, Spain edition of 1476, (דפוס 3) though in a slightly elongated form where the words “שיצא לך טבע מוניטין בעולם ד״א” preceded it.

Here is the Alkabetz text which includes this other idea from Breishit Rabah 39:1.

Here is Hijar, 1490 which generally copied from Alkabetz

It appeared in a shortened form in Lisbon 1491, and it is clear that this was the basis for the Hanau edition because Hanau deviates appreciably from Alkbatez. It was added to the text of Rashi in parentheses by Hanau, and it is recorded that way even today by many Chumashim.^[10]

Were these comments included by Rashi in his original commentary?

The respected website Al HaTorah notes on this additional comment that it is found in one manuscript^[11] and in the Alkabetz edition, but that it does not appear in any other manuscript that it checked^[12]

אעשך לגוי גדול וגו’ – לפי שהדרך מגרמתד לשלשה דברים: ממעטת פריה ורביה, וממעטת את הממון, וממעטת את השם, הוזקק לשלש ברכות הללו: שהבטיחו על הבנים, ועל הממון, ועל השם.

בכ״י פריס 157 ובדפוס אלקבץ נוסף כאן: ״וזהו ואגדלה שמך שיצא לך טבע מוניטון בעולם. דבר אחר: ואגדלה שמך – הריני מוסיף אות על שמך, שעד עכשיו שמך אברם ומכאן ואילך אברהם, ועולה אברהם בנוטריקון רמ״ח כנגד איבריו של אדם שהן רמ״ח.״ הביאורים חסרים בכל כ״י האחרים שבדקנו

(“these explanations are missing in all the manuscripts we checked”)

I found this to be most likely correct in that I checked the following 13 manuscripts from the 13-14^th centuries and did not find the extra comment in one of them.

Oxford CCC 165/Neubauer 2440(1194), Munich 5 (1233), Hamburg 13 (1265), London 26917 (Neubauer 168) (1272), Berlin 1221, Berlin Qu. 514 (1289), Vatican Urbanati 1 (1294), Nurenberg 5 (1297), Parma 3115 (1305)^[13], Paris 155, Parma 2868, Cincinnati HUC 7, and Paris 156

Neither did I find the extra comment in these nine manuscripts copied over in the 15^th century, close to the time of the printing of the Alkabetz edition of 1476

Oxford-Bodley Opp. 35 (Neubauer 188) (1408), Vatican ebr.47 (1413), Breslau 102 (Saraval 12) (1421), Parma 2979 (1432)^[14], Parma 2989 (1454), Jerusalem Ms. Heb. 2009=38 (1462), Frankfurt Oct 24 (1472), Hamburg 103 (1474)^[15], and Parma 2707 (1480)

I did find it in one other manuscript known as Casanatense 2924 (1460). It is described as a Sephardic manuscript and therefore aligns with the textual transmission available to Alkabetz^[16]

As mentioned, it is absent from most printed editions of the late 1400’s and the 1500’s. Yosef Da’at does not include it. Avraham Berliner did not include it in either of his editions of Zechor L’Avraham (1867 and 1905)^[17]. It is not included in Mikraot Gedolot HaKeter, and in Torat Chaim of Mosad Harav Kook (1993), nor in Rashi Hashalem (Mechon Arial 1987)^[18], and it is not included in the text of Rashi in Al HaTorah. Clearly the comment existed in some manuscripts as evidenced by its appearance in the Alkabetz edition. But the weight of evidence is that it did not originate with Rashi.

 

Finally, I feel that Artscroll should be acknowledged for continuing to “upgrade” its presentation of the Rashi text as it has clearly done in this case.

1.  

   It also doesn’t indicate the source in Chazal for this comment as is done so often in Rashi editions. A good example of this is the Oz VeHadar Chumash Rashi Hamevuar of 2015 which indicates that it is a “רש״י ישן” but also tells you that the source of the comment in Chazal is בראשית רבה ל״ט:י״א (by saying ״שם״ which refers back to the citation immediately preceding it, בראשית רבה ל״ט:י״א)

   ↑

2.  

   The comment is word for word the same as the Stone Chumash of 1993 except for the fact that it has the word ״וזהו״ before the words “ואגדלה שמך” ↑

3.  

   The three very similar “versions” of this added comment are then as follows

   Artscroll Stone Chumash 1993

   ואגדלה שמך הריני מוסיף אות על שמך שעד עכשׁיו שמך אברם מכאן ואילך אברהם ואברהם עולה רמ״ח כנגד איבריו של אדם

   Hanau 1611-14 -only adds the word “וזהו”

   וזהו ואגדלה שמך הריני מוסיף אות על שמך שעד עכשׁיו שמך אברם מכאן ואילך אברהם ואברהם עולה רמ״ח כנגד איבריו של אדם

   Lisbon 1491 – leaves out the word שמך and adds the word בנוטריקון

   וזהו ואגדלה שמך הריני מוסיף אות על שמך שעד עכשׁיו אברם מכאן ואילך אברהם ואברהם עולה רמ״ח בנוטריקון כנגד איבריו של אדם ↑

4.  

   I do not think they had access to manuscripts, as they do not mention it at all in their description of the book ↑

5.  

   Here are two examples where the comment beginning with “ואגדלה שמך הריני מוסיף” does not appear

   Rashi Sabionetta 1557

   

   Venice Juan Di Gara 1567

   ↑

6.  

   This edition was quite influential in that it served as the model for many subsequent printings of Mikraot Gedolot ↑

7.  

   This source of Bereishit Rabbah 39:11 was also noted in the Oz Vehadar Mikraot Gedolot of 2012, although the Rashi Yashan designation remained. ↑

8.  

   Tanchuma Lech Lecha 16

   אָמַר לוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא: מָה אַתָּה סָבוּר שֶׁאַתָּה תָמִים שָׁלֵם, אַתָּה חָסֵר מֵחֲמִשָּׁה אֵבָרִים. אָמַר לוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא: עַד שֶׁלֹּא תָמוּל, הָיָה שִׁמְךָ אַבְרָם, א’ אֶחָד, ב’ שְׁנַיִם, ר’ מָאתַיִם, מ’ אַרְבָּעִים, הֲרֵי מָאתַיִם וְאַרְבָּעִים וּשְׁלֹשָׁה. וּמִנְיַן אֵבָרִים שֶׁבָּאָדָם מָאתַיִם וְאַרְבָּעִים וּשְׁמוֹנָה, מוּל וֶהְיֵה תָמִים. כְּשֶׁמָּל, אָמַר לוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא: לֹא יִקָּרֵא עוֹד שִׁמְךָ אַבְרָם וְהָיָה שִׁמְךָ אַבְרָהָם. הוֹסִיף לוֹ ה’, חֲמִשָּׁה, מִנְיַן רַמַ״‎ח אֵבָרִים. לְפִיכָךְ וֶהְיֵה תָמִים. ↑

9. Nedarim 32b

   וְאָמַר רָמֵי בַּר אַבָּא: כְּתִיב ״אַבְרָם״, וּכְתִיב ״אַבְרָהָם״. בַּתְּחִלָּה הִמְלִיכוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא עַל מָאתַיִם וְאַרְבָּעִים וּשְׁלֹשָׁה אֵבָרִים, וּלְבַסּוֹף הִמְלִיכוֹ עַל מָאתַיִם וְאַרְבָּעִים וּשְׁמוֹנֶה אֵבָרִים, אֵלּוּ הֵן: שְׁתֵּי עֵינַיִם, וּשְׁתֵּי אׇזְנַיִם, וְרֹאשׁ הַגְּוִיָּיה. ↑

10.  

    This is the comment of Siftai Yeshainim

    ↑

11.  

    This is how Paris 157 (13th-14^th century) appears. Both extra comments of Alkabetz are included.

    ↑

12.  

    Leipzig 1 is considered to be one of the most important Rashi manuscripts and the comment is absent from it

    ↑

13.  

    Parma 3115 is known as a Sephardic Mahadura and much of the Alkabetz edition came from there or a similar manuscript, but it is not there

    ↑

14.  

    This is a particularly beautiful manuscript

    ↑

15.  

    This manuscript has this interesting addition to the text of Rashi

    לך לך בגימטריא מאה שנה, רמז לו לק׳ שנה יהיה לך בן

    The source seems to be Medrash Tanchuma, Parshat לֶךְ לְךָ 3

    לֶךְ לְךָ – מַהוּ לֶךְ לְךָ, ל’ שְׁלֹשִים, כ’ עֶשְׂרִים, הֲרֵי עוֹלֶה בְּגִימַטְרִיָּא מֵאָה. רָמַז לוֹ, כְּשֶׁתִּהְיֶה בֶּן מֵאָה, תּוֹלִיד בֵּן כָּשֵׁר, הֲדָא הוּא דִכְתִיב, וְאַבְרָהָם בֶּן מְאַת שָׁנָה וְגוֹ’

    It is not in any other manuscript which I accessed

    ↑

16.  

    NLI Listing

    Casanatense Library Rome Italy Ms. 2921

    ↑

17.  

    Zechor L’Avraham, Avraham Berliner (Berlin) 1867

    ↑

18.  

    Rashi Hashalem notes below the line the Girsa of the Alkabetz edition and the sources for it. ↑

Breishit 9:18 – Noach’s Family or Noach’s Drunkenness?

Eli Genauer

 

וַיִּֽהְי֣וּ בְנֵי־נֹ֗חַ הַיֹּֽצְאִים֙ מִן־הַתֵּבָ֔ה שֵׁ֖ם וְחָ֣ם וָיָ֑פֶת וְחָ֕ם ה֖וּא אֲבִ֥י כְנָֽעַן׃

“The sons of Noach who came out of the ark were Shem, Cham, and Yefet; and Cham was the father of Canaan.”

Rashi:

וחם הוא אבי כנען. לָמָּה הֻצְרַךְ לוֹמַר כָּאן? לְפִי שֶׁהַפָּרָשָׁה עֲסוּקָה וּבָאָה בְּשִׁכְרוּתוֹ שֶׁל נֹחַ שֶׁקִּלְקֵל בָּה חָם וְעַל יָדוֹ נִתְקַלֵּל כְּנַעַן, וַעֲדַיִן לֹא כָתַב תּוֹלְדוֹת חָם, וְלֹא יָדַעְנוּ שֶׁכְּנַעַן בְּנוֹ – לְפִיכָךְ הֻצְרַךְ לוֹמַר כָּאן וְחָם הוּא אֲבִי כְנָעַן:

AND CHAM IS THE FATHER OF CANAAN – Why is it necessary to mention this here? Because this section goes on to deal with the account of Noah’s drunkenness when Cham sinned, and through him, Canaan was cursed. Now, as the generations of Cham have not yet been mentioned, we therefore would not know that Canaan was his son. Therefore, it was necessary to state here that “Cham is the father of Canaan”.

This is how it appears in the Artscroll Elucidated Rashi^[1]:

Yet the author of the Sefer Yosef Da’at (Prague 1609) writes that he had a Rashi manuscript and other Sefarim which substituted the word “במשפחתו “for the word” בְּשִׁכְרוּתוֹ”. He also writes that it was the Nusach of Ramban ( when quoting this Rashi).

בדבור המתחיל וחם הוא אבי כו׳, נכתב בצדו על מלת ״בשכרותו״ שבפנינו, וברש״י קלף בס״א (בספרים אחרים) במשפחתו של נח. והיא נוסחאות הרמב״ן ז״ל.

The text of Rashi would then read:

וחם הוא אבי כנען. לָמָּה הֻצְרַךְ לוֹמַר כָּאן? לְפִי שֶׁהַפָּרָשָׁה עֲסוּקָה וּבָאָה במשפחתו שֶׁל נֹחַ שֶׁקִּלְקֵל בָּה חָם וְעַל יָדוֹ נִתְקַלֵּל כְּנַעַן…..

Why is it necessary to mention this here? Because this section goes on to deal with the account of Noah’s family when Cham sinned, and through him, Canaan was cursed…

As mentioned by Yosef Da’at, one of the Eidei Nusach for having the word במשפחתו is Ramban, who quotes Rashi’s comment. The website Al Hatorah notes, that this Nusach appears in the following Ramban manuscripts: Parma 3255, Munich 138, Fulda 2, Paris 222, and Paris 223. It also appears that way in the first printed edition of Ramban, that of Rome (printed before 1490).

This is the Ramban manuscript known as Munich 138 where Ramban quotes Rashi:

Here is the text of Ramban in the Rome edition where he writes(פ׳(רוש) ר״ש (למה:

Al Hatorah also notes that the word במשפחתו, appears in the text of a Rashi manuscript, Parma 3115, (which it seems was close to the text with which the Ramban worked) before it was “corrected”.

וכן בכ”י פרמא 3115 של פירוש רש”י (שהוא כנראה קרוב לנוסח שעמד בפני רמב”ן) לפני שתוקן בין השיטין

Ktav Yad Parma 3115, for Rashi:

Al Hatorah then notes that most Rashi manuscripts have בְּשִׁכְרוּתוֹ

בכ”י רומא 44, פרמא 2978, דפוס ליסבון: “בשכרותו”, וכן ברוב כ”י של רש”י.

Parma 2978 is the Ramban on Noach which has “בשכרותו”:

For Rashi on this Pasuk ,Al HaTorah records that most Rashi manuscripts have בְּשִׁכְרוּתוֹ, but Regio di Calabria, as quoted by Ramban and the Rashi manuscript Parma 3115, have it as במשפחתו.

וחם הוא אבי כנען – למה הוצרך לומר כאן. לפי שהפרשה עסוקה בשכרותו של נח שקלקל בה חם, ועל ידו נתקלל כנען, ועדיין לא כתב תולדות חם, ולא ידענו שכנען בנו. לפיכך הוצרך לומר כאן: וחם הוא אבי כנען.

ב. כן בכ״י אוקספורד 165, מינכן 5, אוקספורד 34, לונדון 26917, ברלין 1221, דפוס רומא.

דפוס ריגייו: ״במשפחתו״, וכן מופיע בפירוש רמב״ן כאן ברוב עדי הנוסח, בכ״י פרמא 3115

. אפשר שכך היה הנוסח גם בכ״י המבורג 13.

In Zechor L’Avraham (Berlin 1867 and Frankfurt am Main 1905), there is no indication of alternative Nusach. Avraham Berliner does not mention the alternative Nusach of Yosef Daat, the Dfus Rishon or the Girsa of Ramban:

In Yosef Hallel (Brooklyn 1987), Rabbi Brachfeld notes that the Dfus Rishon of Regio Callabrio (1475) has the word במשפּחתו. He does not note that it is the Lashon of the Ramban but seems to think that במשפחתו is a better reading because of his questions on the use of בְּשִׁכְרוּתוֹ:

In Rashi HaShalem Mechon Ariel ( Jerusalem 1987), there is no indication of another Girsa but in the back of the Sefer, it does have it as part of Defusim Rishonim:

Defusim Rishonim:

Guadalajara (1476) Reggio di Calabrio (1475) Rome (1470)

It is interesting to note that the Alkbetz edition is what is known as the Mahadura Sefardit ( according to Professor Yeshayahu Sonne and Dr Yitzchak Penkower), and yet it has בשכרותו. The same goes with Hijar(1490), which generally copies Alkabetz.

Oz Vehadar Rashi HaMevuar 2008, has במשפחתו in the back in Chilufai Girsaot, noting that it is the Girsa of Ramban and the Dfus Rishon:

 

Rabbi Isaac Chavel in his edition of Rashi ( Mosad HaRav Kook – 2007 edition) notes that Defus Rishon of Rashi (Regio di Calabria) has ,במשפחתו and this Lashon also appears in the text of Ramban as he quotes Rashi. He also says about the use of the word “במשפחתו” that is more correct (“וכן נראה”) based on the Lashon of the Midrash Agadah which places the emphasis on familial relationships of Noach:

What do the manuscripts indicate:

Oxford CCC 165 (Neubauer 2440) – 12^th century

Hamburg 13 (1265), has the word in question rubbed out and changed to בְּשִׁכְרוּתו on the side. It might have originally said במשפחתו:

Oxford-Bodley Opp. 34 (Neubauer 186):

London 26917 (Neubauer 168) (1272):

Berlin 1221:

Vatican Urbinati 1 (1294):

Nuernberg 5 (1297):

How did the text of Rashi in printed editions evolve over time?

The Dfus Rishon of Regio di Calabrio recorded it as במשפחתו. As mentioned, Yosef Da’at noted במשפחתו as a variant reading in a Rashi Klaf and in ,ספרים אחרים and bolstered it with it being the Nusach of Ramban:

בדבור המתחיל וחם הוא אבי כו׳, נכתב בצדו על מלת ״בשכרותו״ שבפנינו, וברש״י קלף בס״א (בספרים אחרים) במשפחתו של נח. והיא נוסחאות הרמב״ן ז״ל.

Hanau 1611-1614, regularly included the Girsaot of Yosef Da’at so we would have expected it to have had בְּשִׁכְרוּתוֹ and then in parentheses have Sefarim Achairim as במשפחתו. But is doesn’t, and that sealed the fate of that Nusach in terms of it becoming a mainstream Girsa of Sefarim Achairim:

The Netziv in Shemot 40:23 cites a comment of the Ramban in which he quotes Rashi and says that our text of Rashi is different. He proposes that there were two Mahdurot of Rashi, of which Ramban had the first Mahadura and we have the second one. In that second Mahadura, Rashi reversed himself from what he said in the first Mahadura. It is possible that this occurred here- in the first Mahadura, Rashi wrote במשפחתו and that is the Mahadura which Ramban had. Later on, Rashi changed it to בְּשִׁכְרוּתו and that has become the standard Girsa:

Conclusion:

There is a lot of ammunition for the Girsa being במשפחתו:

1. It is in Dfus Rishon, (indicating either inclusion in a manuscript or taken from Ramban)
2. It is the Lashon of the Ramban, (this is the main argument)
3. It has logic behind it (Rabbi Chavel’s and Yosef Hallel’s comments)
4. It is attested to by Yosef Da’at as being in a manuscript
5. Parma 3115 originally had “במשפחתו”
6. Hamburg 13 was altered and could have said במשפחתו

But it did not survive as an alternative Girsa of ספרים אחרים today mainly because the influential edition of Hanau (1611-1614) did not include it.

Sidenote:

Many editions of the Ramban today still attribute the word בְּשִׁכְרוּתוֹ to Rashi even though it is clear that the original Ramban had במשפחתו. This was most likely done to make it conform with the accepted Nusach of Rashi.

Here is Oz Vehadar Jerusalem on Ramban 2015 which has בְּשִׁכְרוּתוֹ but says it is במשפחתו in Defus Rishon:

Here is Peirush HaRamban with Peirush Menachem Tziyon printed in 2019 which also has בְּשִׁכְרוּתוֹ:

1. There is no comment on this Rashi in the Siftei Yeshainim section ↑

 

Depicting Difference: The Tower of Babel and the Language of Sacred Art

“For form is only the manifestation, the shape of content.”
Ben Shahn, The Shape of Content, p. 72

Genesis chapter 11 presents the narrative of the Tower of Babel, detailing how, contrary to the divine directive to disperse and populate the earth, the descendants of the flood’s survivors congregated in a single city and commenced construction of a substantial tower. God intervened to prevent further cooperation among them by disrupting their shared language, thereby introducing linguistic diversity, which ultimately ceased the building process and resulted in the broad dispersal of the population.

The account of the Tower of Babel offers a unique context for exploring what characterizes an image—and, by extension, a work of art—as Jewish. In Christian artistic traditions, from medieval illuminations to Renaissance paintings, the tower is often portrayed as a symbol of pride and serves as a cautionary emblem against human ambition. In contrast, Jewish philosophy and visual culture do not treat the tower as an important iconographic motif or as a warning against aspiration. Where the story does appear in Jewish art, it offers an alternative interpretation, and in certain instances, it recasts the tower motif in a more positive light.

The Architecture of Arrogance: Bruegel’s Tower and the Christian Moral Imagination

Figure 1: Pieter Bruegel, The Tower of Babel, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

Among the most celebrated representations of the Tower of Babel is Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s painting housed in Vienna’s Kunsthistorisches Museum (we previously discussed another painting from the museum, Samuel van Hoogstraten’s Old Man at a Window, and whether it is a Jewish painting, its subject a famous Rabbi). Measuring over three feet wide and five feet high, this work features a monumental spiral structure composed of arches and tiers that ascend unevenly into the clouds. The immense scale of the tower stands in stark contrast to the small human figures depicted throughout—hundreds of workers engaged in various tasks. Bruegel’s paintings are notable for their comprehensive and detailed portrayal of subjects. (This site allows you to zoom in on all the details.) In this scene, each trade and stage of construction is rendered with meticulous attention; some laborers transport massive stone blocks along ramps, while oxen-pulled carts bear heavy loads of building materials. Human-powered treadwheel cranes lift supplies upward, and scaffolding constructed from poles, planks, and ropes clings to the sides of the tower. Masons apply mortar and lay bricks, carpenters reinforce beams, and overseers direct operations, attempting to manage the complexity and activity inherent in such an undertaking.

In the foreground, King Nimrod, adorned in elaborate robes and a crown, oversees the construction as the principal architect of the tower. He reviews architectural plans with his attendants while laborers kneel. Surrounding him, foremen gesture towards the ascending walls, effectively conveying his directives to the assembled workforce. Beyond the imposing structure of the tower, ships are visible entering the harbor, their masts prominent on the horizon.

Bruegel often used allegory in his work. By integrating contemporary construction methods and maritime elements into the depiction of the ancient story, he placed Babel in the context of his own time. The painting presents examples of human innovation alongside the risks associated with ambitious endeavors, making its observations applicable from the 16th century to the present day.^[1]

Figure 2: 13th Century Manuscript of Rudolf von Ems Poetry

Figure 3: 14th Century York Manuscript

Earlier artistic portrayals commonly focused on Babel’s height and grandeur. Medieval manuscripts and Church paintings often depicted it as upright, rectilinear, and monumental, resembling a fortress or cathedral spire. In contrast, Bruegel presents the tower as unstable, leaning, and showing deterioration at its foundation, while construction continues at the upper levels. The structure appears to challenge natural order by being built atop a mountain and using brick, which leads to rock formations that affect its stability. Bruegel incorporates Roman arches reminiscent of the Colosseum, suggesting parallels to historical architecture that had fallen into decline by the time of his visit in 1560. Some areas are already inhabited; for example, a woman is seen hanging laundry. The residents appear unaware of the structural issues beneath them, blinded by their hubris. Nimrod’s prominence in the foreground, with the workers genuflecting to him and his plans that he holds in his hands, further emphasizes the fetishization of human ambition.

At the time, Bruegel’s audience didn’t have to look far to see a potential Babel in the making: Antwerp was booming, expanding, and building like never before, and its populace risked falling into the sin of pride. In 1563, when Bruegel painted the Tower of Babel, the city was Europe’s busiest port and a magnet for wealth, with goods and materials streaming in daily through the Scheldt River. Massive new fortifications were under construction to secure the city’s growth, while the Cathedral of Our Lady still stood unfinished, its single soaring spire a symbol of grandeur halted midstream. Cranes, treadwheels, scaffolding, and teams of laborers were familiar sights on Antwerp’s skyline, all details Bruegel carefully folded into his painting. Even the ships visible in the harbor of his Babel recall Antwerp’s bustling docks, tying the biblical story directly to his contemporaries’ lived experience. For Bruegel’s viewers, the tower was not just a monument to ancient pride but a mirror of their own city’s dazzling ambition and its underlying fragility.

Bruegel does not show the dramatic aftermath, the confusion of tongues, and the scattering of peoples across the earth. Instead, he arrests the narrative at the moment of construction, filling the canvas with the feverish activity of workers and the looming mass of the tower itself. In doing so, he lets the architecture bear the weight of the story: the leaning walls, the buckling arches, and the crumbling base foreshadow the enterprise’s futility. The punishment is absent because the tower already embodies it, an image of human ambition that carries within itself the seeds of its own destruction.

Bruegel’s legacy is twofold. On the one hand, he fixed Babel’s appearance for centuries: spiraling, leaning, and crumbling, the visual template repeated in paintings, engravings, church murals, and biblical illustrations well into the modern era. From 16th-century Flemish workshops to 18th-century Bibles, from church frescoes to Romantic illustrations, and even into 20th-century literature and contemporary art, Bruegel’s leaning Tower of Babel has been endlessly reimagined as the enduring image of human ambition and collapse.^[2] On the other hand, he reshaped its meaning. Earlier images celebrated human pride by showing the tower upright and impregnable. Bruegel’s version, and the generations of artists and authors who followed, transformed it into a parable of fragility, a monument doomed to collapse even as it rose.

Buildings Fall Books Endure: The Jewish Reading of Babel

Within the Jewish exegetical tradition, the story of Babel carries a different emphasis than in Bruegel’s Christian retelling. The tower itself is a bit player in a larger story, a catalyst and not the focus, less important than the human decision it symbolizes. In Genesis 9:1, God commands Noah’s descendants to “be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth.” Yet instead of dispersing across the world, humanity chooses to settle in one place and build a city and tower “lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth” (Gen. 11:4). In this reading, the sin is not arrogance against heaven but resistance to God’s plan of dispersal. The tower becomes a narrative device, a means of dramatizing humankind’s determination to remain unified, sedentary, and secure.^[3]

Seen from this perspective, the confusion of languages and scattering of peoples is not so much a punishment as a necessary correction. The multiplicity of tongues is God’s way of ensuring that His will for humanity, for it to spread, diversify, and populate the earth, is carried out. The Jewish interpretation, therefore, reads the story as a lesson about human attempts to thwart divine design, not Bruegel’s Christian vision, which centers on pride and monumental ambition. What matters is not the tower’s collapse but humanity’s refusal to scatter, and the way God ultimately enforces the order of creation.

This contrast is confirmed by the way Jewish tradition titles the episode “Dor Haflagah,” meaning “the Generation of Division,” rather than “Migdal Bavel,” the Tower of Babel. (Sanhedrin 10:3; Baba Metziah 4:2). The Hebrew name shifts attention away from architecture altogether and toward the human drama: the refusal to scatter, the divine act of dividing languages, and the dispersal across the earth. In other words, where Christianity made the tower a visual icon, Judaism made the generation itself the lesson.^[4]

This approach was not only in Jewish exegesis but also in Jewish art. There are only five identified examples of the tower in Jewish art, but in all of them, it is illustrated in a uniquely Jewish manner.

Figure 4: Tower of Babel, Khirbet Wadi Hamam Mosaic, c. 3rd century, source.

Figure 5: Tower of Babel, Huqoq Synagogue, c. 5th Century

The earliest two examples are synagogue mosaics, a third-century synagogue in Wadi Hamam, and a recently discovered fifth-century mosaic on the floor of the Huqoq Synagogue in northeastern Israel. Only a part of the Wadi Hamam scene has survived, though it is the largest intact biblical scene found. It shows workers and a tower on the left. In the center, two workers are hitting each other. The Huqoq mosaic is larger and illustrates all stages of construction, including detailed depictions of hoists, levers, and various chiseling and cutting tools. At the center of the scene, two workers are engaged in conflict—one wielding a hammer and the other a saw.^[5] Similarly, three medieval manuscripts feature this theme; in two, the depiction of violence is the central focus, while in the third, it forms part of a broader image, akin to the mosaic. ^[6]

Figure 6 Golden Haggadah, fol. 3r

Although these examples feature the tower, they can be distinguished from the Christian perspective. Firstly, the labeling of the images aligns with Jewish tradition, specifically referencing Dor Haflagah. Secondly, Bruegel’s comprehensive visual representation notably omits any mention of violence. The interpretation that linguistic confusion led to violence is exclusive to Jewish sources, appearing in Genesis Rabba and various other texts, but not in Christian writings.^[7] Given that the mosaic dates to the third century, this seems to potentially point to an earlier codification of Genesis Rabba than is currently assumed or that this approach was already was an oral legend.^[8] The only known medieval Christian manuscript featuring a descent into violence, The Bedford Book of Hours, has prompted one scholar to assert that it “is undoubtedly based on a Jewish legend.”^[9]

While Jewish manuscript culture preserves the uniquely Jewish interpretation of the iconography of the Tower of Babel, Jewish print culture would transform Bruegel’s symbol of pride and sin into a fortress of divine protection.

The Soncino family was the first great dynasty of Hebrew printers, active in northern Italy from the late 15th to the early 16th century.^[10] Originating from the town of Soncino in Lombardy and operating intermittently between roughly 1483 and 1527, they established presses in a succession of Italian cities, including Soncino, Brescia, Fano, Pesaro, and Rimini, as well as in Turkey. The founder, Joshua Solomon Soncino, and his nephew, Gershom ben Moses Soncino, expanded the enterprise into one of the most respected printing houses of Renaissance Italy. Gershom issued one of the earliest dated Hebrew books, a Talmudic tractate printed at Soncino in 1484. This work, with its unique layout, is the first of its kind to become canonized, combining the source text with two surrounding commentaries, and is itself a work of art. Their editions combined typographic precision with decorative sophistication equal to the best contemporary Latin and vernacular presses, and their name became synonymous with the art of Hebrew printing itself. They did not just print for a Jewish audience, but also printed over 100 non-Jewish titles, outdoing their Jewish output of 64 titles.

Figure 7: Joseph Albo, Sefer Ikkarim, Rimini, 1522

The Soncino family was active from 1483, but in books printed from 1522, first in Rimini and subsequently in Salonika and Constantinople, Gershom incorporated a new printer’s mark – essentially a printer’s coat of arms.^[11] This first appeared in R. Joseph Albo’s Sefer Ikkarim and depicts a traditional Renaissance-style solid stone tower rising above a crenellated wall, accompanied by the verse ‘מִגְדַּל עֹז שֵׁם יְהוָה, בּוֹ יָרוּץ צַדִּיק וְנִשְׂגָּב” “the name of the Lord is a mighty tower; the righteous runneth into it, and is set up on high,’ (Proverbs 18:10) on the left and right sides of the image. Gershom chooses to highlight the tower, unlike other possible symbols such as the rainbow, clouds of glory, or King David, which could have served a similar purpose.

Figure 8: Kol Bo, Rimini, 1525, Gross Family Collection

In the Sefer Kol Bo, published in Rimini circa 1525 and considered Gershom’s most distinguished work from that period, a prominent introductory statement appears above the tower: “In You I place my heart and you will help me, and I will raise my heart and with song I will praise you: ‘the name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous runs into it, and is safe.’” This clearly presents the tower as an icon of divine protection and intervention. Notably, Gershom’s tower does not correspond with any physical structure in Soncino or Rimini; instead, the tower symbolizes a spiritual rather than an earthly construct.^[12] There is one small, but somewhat strange, detail about Gershom’s tower: the doors are latched on the outside, making the locks useless. This oddity reinforces that the tower is divine, as it does not need a locked door. We reenact this belief annually during the Pesach seder. Gershom’s tower, rooted in Mishlei rather than Bereishit, represents divine protection in contrast to retribution. For a Jewish printer deeply engaged with Renaissance book art, this choice offered a thoughtful reinterpretation, reclaiming the tower as a symbol of resilience and trust in God’s safeguarding of the Jewish community people.^[13]

The story of the “tower,” whether Bruegel’s collapsing monument or Soncino’s enduring emblem, reminds us how difficult it is to define what makes art “Jewish.” The same image can signify pride or faith, sin or sanctity, depending on the hands and the heart that shape it. Jewish art, then, is not confined to subject or style, but often lives in subtler places — in the design of a page, the mark of a printer, or the choice of a verse. Ultimately, even art speaks in different languages.

Notes: 

1. For background on the creation of the painting see Margaret A. Sullivan, Bruegel and the Creative Process, 1559-1563 (Ashgate: England, 2010), 191-204. For a direct comparison of the painting with the biblical narrative see Ruth Dorot and Edna Langenthal, “Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s The Tower of Babel (1563). From Art to Architecture,” Journal Education Culture and Society, 2, (2023), 380-400. ↑

2. See Diána Kulisz, “The Tower of Babel Motif in the Art of the Low Countries,” in Mesopotamia Kingdom of Gods and Demons, ed. Zoltán Niederreiter, (Budapest: Museum of Fine Arts, 2024), 424-439. ↑
3. See Umberto Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of Genesis, Part II, trans. Israel Abrams, (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1974), 225-226. Abarbenal, however, interprets the section much more in line with Bruegel’s themes. See Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Bereshit, trans. Aryeh Newman, (Jerusalem: World Zionist Organization), 95-97. ↑
4. See Cassuto, id. at 203. ↑
5. See Karen Britt and Ra’anan Boustan, “Artistic Influences in Synagogue Mosaics: Putting the Huqoq Synagogue in Context,” BAR, May/June 2019, 40-41. They note that these are the only two known examples of synagogue mosaics to depict the Tower of Babel. ↑
6. The Golden Haggadah, Bezalel Narkiss ed. (England, 1996) 24-25; Marc Michael Epstein, The Medieval Haggadah: Art, Narrative & Religious Imagination (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2011), 157-158. ↑
7. For a collection of the various sources see M.M. Kasher, Torah Shelemah, vol. 1, 515, no. 60 and 517 no. 73. ↑
8. See Anat Reizel, Introduction to Midrashic Literature, (Tevunot: Alon Shevut, 2011), pp. 105–106. ↑
9. See Mira Friedman, “The Tower of Babel in the Bedford Book of Hours,” in The Old Testament as Inspiration in Culture, Jan Heller, ed. (Trebenice: 2001), 113-114. ↑
10. See generally, A.M. Haberman, Perakim be-Toldoth Hamdpissim ha-Ivrim (Jerusalem: Rubin Mass, 1978),15-101; Moses Marx, “Gershom Soncino’s Wander Years in Italy, 1498-1527” in HUCA XI (1936), reprinted as a stand alone work with many examples of Soncino illustrations, in 1969, by the Society of Jewish Bibliophiles. ↑
11. Abraham Yaari, Hebrew Printers’ Marks: From the Beginning of Hebrew Printing to the End of 19^th Century (Jerusalem: Hebrew University Press, 1943), 4-5, 123-124. Gershom once used a different mark with a tower in the 1505 Fano edition Mashal ha-Kadmoni. Id. 124. ↑
12. Yaari, Printers Marks, 124. ↑
13. Gershom’s prayer may have been tied to a conflict with a Jew who had converted to Christianity. In the end, perhaps because of this conflict, although it remains unclear, Gershom was forced to flee Italy soon after. See Marx, “Wandering Years,” 55-59. ↑