Any discussion regarding prostitution in Jewish literature starts with the various mentions in Tanach. Obviously, some are clearer than others, compare the case of Rachav with that of Tamar. But we will leave those comparisons for the readers of the Seforim blog who consider themselves biblical exegetes. Additionally, we will not focus on the Talmudic or overly legalistic discussions regarding prostitution. Instead, starting in Medieval times, we will attempt to document some of the mentions of prostitution and its effect, prevalence and general history amongst Jews.

Of late, much has been made of high governmental officials and their use of prostitutes. A striking parrall can be found in the writings of R. Yaakov Emden. R. Emden records that one of the parnasim, a representative of the Altona Jewish community, who went to Copenhagen for the inauguration of the king [Frederick III?] on behalf of the Altona Jews. While he was there, he squandered “thousands” from the community funds to engage prostitutes. Similarly, R. Emden relates that in Hamburg in 1764, after Kol Nidrei, a non-Jewish woman made a scene in shul claiming that her three children’s father was a Jew, and that he should take the children and support them.

Prostitution, much like today, appears to be a fascination of the public. It appears this is not a new phenomenon, instead, R. Hayyim Yosef David Azulai, in his travelogue Ma’agel Tov, records his impressions of Paris when he was there in 1777. [The Hida really liked Paris, and although this was not his first visit there, he still provides many interesting details.] He states:

Paris is a huge city, some 15 miles wide, with wide streets so wide that two carriages can pass each other even with people hanging on the sides, and the Seine river flows through Paris and that is where Parisians get their water. There is a bridge, the Pont Neuf, and this bridge is so busy that day or night there are always people on it . . . In fact the saying goes at any hour one can find on the Pont Neuf a white horse, a priest, and prostitute. The city of Paris is beautiful and one can find everything there, however, it is all expensive, the one exception being prostitutes – and it is known that there are 30,000 prostitutes that are available for anyone. That number does not include the thousands that are specialized for particular persons.

Throughout the middle ages, in the Iberian peninsula, there was a debate whether having prostitutes available was better on the whole. Two rationales were offered as a justification for prostitution. The first, that if people use prostitutes they won’t fall prey to adultery, a much more serious sin. And second, that there was in various times and places laws that punished by death Jewish and non-Jewish intercourse. Without Jewish prostitutes, Jews may violate that prohibition and be subject to death – typically burning. Thus, having Jewish prostitutes was allowed for the very pragmatic reason as a balance of harms, or the greater good, that is, it avoided these two other negative outcomes.

R. Yitzhak Arama famously decried these justifications. In explaining the sin of the people of Sedom, he put forth the notion that although individuals may sin, any time a community sanctions sins, that creates a much more serious communal crime. And that, he says, was why Sodom was unique in being utterly destroyed although there were numerous other instances of serious sin throughout Tanach that did not suffer the fate of Sodom. R. Armama then continues and applies the explanation for the destruction Sodom to his own times. He explains that for this reason he fought against those communities that sanctioned prostitution. While it may be correct that there is some way to justify prostitution, a community can never sanction illegal behavior. He offered that the ramifications of not having prostitutes was not to be considered, in no way could a community allow for such behavior. [This holding of R. Arama is used by many in many varied instances, see R. Ovadiah Yosef, Yabeah Omer, Orach Hayyim vol. 1, no. 30:15).]

R. Yitzhak ben Sheshet Perfet (Rivash) speaks of the “Gedoli Ha-Dor” who used the very rationale rejected by R. Arama to justify prostitution:

“The Gedolei Ha-Dor averted their eyes [from Jewish prostitution] based on the rationale that if we do not allow the sinners to utilize prostitutes they will sin with non-Jews and they will be subject to burning.”

Similarly, R. Yehuda ben Ha-Rosh received a similar query in that he was asked whether the position “of some people who say that they should force the prostitutes out of the Jewish area as they are in violation of the prohibition against kadasha and further they do not go to the mikveh thus causing people to be punished with karet, however, there are those who say that it is better to have the prostitutes remain in the city so that Jews will not resort to going to non-Jews thereby putting their lives in danger.” R. Yehuda responded, like R. Arama, that “the law does not follow ‘those who say’ and they should remove the prostitutes. A Latin document records a troubling incident from 1404 where, “a German speaking Jew visited a non-Jewish prostitute on Shabbat and he refused to pay her, he explained that he could not pay her as it would violate the Shabbat.”

Skipping ahead a few years to 1675, we come to the Takkanot of Frankfurt which states “that one is required to remove the prostitutes within six month from the Jewish area . . . And they cannot remain even as servants, even if they are kept for free. But, if the householder is willing to pay a two Reichthaller a week fine, then they can be kept, however, should they miss even a week’s payment then they must leave.” In Fuerth, a law was required to be enacted that single mothers could not circumcise their sons in the shul.

Finally, we turn to R. Yechezkel Landau, author of Shu”t Noda B’Yehuda, and although he is not discussing prostitution in general, but it is worthwhile to mention a specific case of Havah Bernstein, wife of the Chief Rabbi of Brody, R. Areyeh Leib Bernstein. According to the testimony of two people (and perhaps others), Havah was accused of acting as a prostitute. After this testimony came to light there was a celebrated controversy regarding the status of this woman vis-a-vis her husband. It appears, due to the Chief Rabbi’s powerful secular connections he was able to shut down any discussion about his wife (although there are several responsa on the topic). And specifically, there was a decree that anyone who called the Chief Rabbi’s wife a prostitute would be subject to a fine of 100 adumim for each statement to that effect. So, R. Landau showed up to court and made the following announcement:

“Everyone should know that the wife of the Chief Rabbi is a prostitute and there is a fine, 100 adumim for each utterace that she is a prostitute, and you should also all know that if I had more money I would call her a prostitute again, however I currently do not have the money I will have to satisfy myself with the fact that I have already called her a prostitute.”

Thus, R. Landau was able to call her a prostitute four times for the price of one. (Mofes Ha-Dor p. 9).

Sources: For the medieval sources see Grossman, Hassidut U-Morodot Jerusalem, 2003), 229-56 (see also where Grossman cites to those who question the truth of the Latin account and discusses other areas during the medieval period); R. Arama, Akedat Yitzhak, parshat Veyerah, Gate 20; Hida, Maagel Tov, p. 120; for the 16th and 17th sources, including R. Emden, see Azreil Shohet, Im Halufei Tekufot (Jerusalem, 1960), 166-73. For more on the Havah Bernstein incident, see David Katz, “A Case Study in the Formation of a Super-Rabbi: The Early Years of Rabbi Ezekiel Landau, 1713-1754,” (PhD dissertation, University of Maryland, 2004), 228-51; and Matthias Lehmann, “Levantinos and Other Jews: Reading H. Y. D. Azulai’s Travel Diary,” Jewish Social Studies 13:3 (Spring/Summer 2007): 1-34.

In fact, the following are the correct details.

(1)The first Rabbinic Bible was published by Bomberg in Venice and completed in 1517. The editor was the convert Felix Pratensis. This edition appeared in two versions: one with a dedication to the Pope in Latin (on the verso of the title page), and at the end of Chronicles a short decree by the Pope (in Latin) that this edition had exclusive rights for 10 years. The second – aimed at the Jews – without the Latin material.

(2) The second Rabbinic Bible was published by Bomberg in Venice, and completed in 1525. The editor of this edition was Jacob ben Hayyim Ibn Adoniyahu (who converted to Christianity sometime after 1527).

These two editions differ in a number of ways (the lack of the Latin material is not really to be considered, because such a Latin-free edition had already appeared in 1517 – see above).

Here, I will note the following differences between the two editions: (a) more commentaries in the second edition; (b) the printing of the whole apparatus of the Masorah Parva, the Masorah Magna, and the Masorah Finalis – for the first time in the second (1525) edition; (c) the bible text in the second edition was re-edited anew based on manuscripts and Masorah. As a result, one finds variants in text, vocalization and accentuation between these two editions.

Further details on the differences between these editions can be found in my Jacob ben Hayyim and the Rise of the Rabbinic Bible (Ph.D. dissertation, Hebrew University, 1982; Hebrew); see further my articles in: J.H. Hayes, ed., Dictionary of Biblical Interpretation (Abingdon Press, Nashville 1999), vol. 1: “Bomberg, Daniel,” “Jacob Ben Hayyim Ibn Adoniyahu,” and vol. 2: “Rabbinic Bible.”

Appendix:
Dedication Page to the Pope from the 1517 ed.

Decree at the end of Chronicles from 1517 ed.

In Professor Daniel Sperber’s latest book, Netivot Pesikah (Jerusalem, Reuven Mass, 2008), one of the areas he discusses the importance of having an awareness of is bibliography. As Eliezer Brodt noted in his review at the Seforim blog, Sperber provides examples where people have gone wrong due to their lack of bibliographical knowledge. Of course, long before Sperber, the importance of Jewish bibliography was already noted by R. Shabbatai Bass, most well-known for his super-commentary on Rashi, Siftei Hakahmim, but also the author of the earliest Jewish bibliography, Siftei Yeshanim.[1] In the introduction to Siftei Yeshanim, Bass discusses generally why bibliography is important. Then, in Ben-Jacob’s bibliography of Hebrew books, Otzar haSeforim, R. Shlomo haKohen of Vilna in his approbation lists numerous examples where people erred due to lack of bibliographical knowledge.

A particularly illustrative example was the republication of the work on the laws of Shabbat, Madanei Asher. A kollel had a group of people working on to study the book and then republish it. Although they studied the book in depth they failed to look up the bibliographical information on the book. Had they done so, they would have discovered that the book is plagiarised from another book, Shulhan Shitim by R. Shlomo Chelm, the author of the Merkevet HaMishnah. Instead, they invested considerable time and effort in ensuring that the wider public has access to a plagiarized work.[2]

Another such example of an egregious error due to lack of bibliographical information can be found in the Machon Yerushalayim edition of the Shulhan Arukh. Included in this edition is the commentary of R. Menachem Mendel Auerbach, Ateret Zekeinim. In Orah Hayyim, no. 54, R. Auerbach discusses whether the word “Hai” – het, yud – should be punctuated with a patach or a tzeri.[3].R. Auerbach states “one should have a tzeri under the letter het . . . and this in accord with what R. Shabbatai writes in his siddur, however, the Maharal of Prague says to use a patach.” Now, when R. Auerbach references R. Shabbatai and his siddur, the Machon Yerushalayim edition includes an explanatory note “Siddur haArizal in the Barukh She’amar prayer.” Thus, according to Machon Yerushalayim, R. Auerbach is quoting the Siddur haArizal compiled by R. Shabbatai Rashkover. That, in and of itself, is a bit odd as this Siddur is more interested – as the title implies – in the Ari and his kabbalistic ideas, rather than on grammar. Therefore, to use it in a discussion of grammar, which the quote in question is dealing with, is a bit odd! Setting that aside, there is a more fundamental mistake here, as the Siddur compiled by R. Rashkover was only published for the first time in Koretz in 1795. R. Auerbach lived from 1620-1689. Thus, he was dead for over 100 years prior to the publication of the Siddur of R. Rashkover. Moreover, the Ateres Zekeinim was first published in 1702 in Amsterdam, also long before the Siddur in question was ever published. The Rashkover’s Siddur was only first written in 1755 and not published until 1797.[4] What is particularly striking about this example is that if one actually examines Rashkover’s siddur, he doesn’t even have a tzeri in the word in question!

Instead, the siddur in question from “R. Shabbatai” is that of R. Shabbatai Sofer, the well-known grammarian. As this R. Shabbatai is a grammarian, and his siddur was written specifically to correct and highlight the proper grammatical readings, – see the lengthy introduction to this siddur, where R. Shabbatai bemoans the carelessness of people towards proper grammar – it makes perfect sense to quote this siddur from this “R. Shabbatai.” This is not the only place R. Auerbach quotes R. Shabbatai, one quote in particular is important as it dispels who the “R. Shabbatai” Auerbach is referring to. In Orah Hayyim, no. 122, Auerbach gives R. Shabbatai’s full name in another discussion about proper grammar. Auerbach refers to “I also saw this in the Siddur of R. Shabbatai of Przemysl.” R. Shabbati of Przemysl is otherwise known as R. Shabbatai Sofer (1565-1635)[5] and that is who is referred to earlier as well.

In conclusion, it is worthwhile noting that the text in question – the correct pronunciation of the word het yud – how R. Sofer actually pronounced that is unclear. There are two versions, but for the details of that one should see the edition of R. Sofer’s Siddur (Baltimore, 1994), vol. 2, p. 56.

Notes:
[1] First printed in Amsterdam in 1680 and in an expanded edition in 1806.

[2] This was pointed on by Y. Tosher in Moriah 7:83-84 (1978): 79. This claim of plagiarism was examined by Yonah Burstein, “Shulhan ‘Arukh by R. Shlomo Chelm (Review),” Ali Sefer 16 (1990):177-179.

[3] See the work Yashresh Ya’akov where he has a very comprehensive discussion about the this word and its punctuation.

[4] See Pinchas Giller, “Between Poland and Jerusalem: Kabbalistic Prayer in Early Modernity,” in Modern Judaism 24:3 (2004): 230, and see Geller’s general discussion regarding the importance of Rashkover’s edition for the development of Lurianic kabbalah on the siddur.

[5] On R. Sofer see Stefan C. Reif, Shabbethai Sofer and His Prayer-Book (Cambridge & New York: Cambridge University Press, 1979).

Of late, translations of the talmud have become a popular topic. [1] In the history of translations, the translation done by Dr. Efraim Pinner, is an important one for multiple reasons. Among other firsts, the Pinner translation was the first German translation of the talmud. Pinner envisioned a complete translation of the entire talmud but only one volume was produced, a translation meskhta Berachot. This edition contains multiple approbations, there is, however, one approbation does not appear in the book. (A good summary of the history can be found here at OnTheMainline, where S. has also posted a prospectus for the Pinner talmud, available here.)

The Hatam Sofer gave an approbation to Pinner’s translation (no one to date has located the text of the approbation, in his retraction the Hatam Sofer says the text was published in a Hamburg newspaper but all attempts to locate it have proven futile). According to the Hatam Sofer after learning further details of Pinner’s translation, he decided he would revoke his approbation and did so in a separate broadsheet. While this is all well known, what seems to have escaped those who have discussed this event is that there are actually two versions of the retraction and even two dates provided for when the Hatam Sofer wrote his retraction. The full text of the retraction appears in three places, N.N. Rabinovich’s Ma’amar al Hadfasas haTalmud, in the additions from Habermann, in R. S. M. Adler’s Emek haBacha, vol. 2, and in R. Greenwald’s Otzar Nechamad (pp. 82-3, this appears at Hebrewbooks.org, but like many of the books available at Hebrewbooks.org, this is not a perfect copy and part is missing). None of these, however, published the actual retraction and instead, Adler’s and Greenwald’s are copies of a copy. Adler had an anonymous “ya’rei v’charad” provided copied it for him from the British Library, and Greenwalds came Amsterdam by Zidmand Zelegmann from a copy that Dov Ritter had. Habermann doesn’t say where he got it; however, as the JNUL has an original perhaps he actually saw it and was not relying on a copy of a copy. But, as he doesn’t say one can’t be certain. As I mentioned there are small differences between the versions. Thus, to fill this void, below is a scan of the actual single sheet retraction. [Additionally, at the end of the post, is the prospectus for the Pinner edition.]

As one can see, the retraction is dated 21 Tevet, 1834. According to Greenwald’s version the retraction is dated Tammuz, 1835. Moreover, the text confirms all of Adler’s readings and not that of Greenwald. It appears that Greenwald’s copyist did a poor job and thus produced a corrupted text.

Now, aside from the retraction there is another document, although discussed has never been republished – that of Pinner’s notice that he was going to publish his translation. This document is also connected to the Hatam Sofer, in that Pinner mentions he received the Hatam Sofer’s approbation. Subsequently, as we have seen, the Hatam Sofer retracted that approbation, however, at the time Pinner published his notice he still had the Hatam Sofer’s approbation.

At this juncture it is worth noting that the Hatam Sofer held Pinner in high regard. According to R. Ya’akov Hirsch HaLevi, a student of the Hatam Sofer, Pinner spent time studying with the Hatam Sofer. Specifically, when Pinner came to obtain the approbation of the Hatam Sofer “Pinner spent a few weeks in Pressburg, and went daily to the Hatam Sofer.” [See Zikrohnot u-Mesorot al Ha-Hatam Sofer (Bnei Brak: Machon Moreshet Ashkenaz, 1996), 306.] This picture of Pinner is counter to that of some who take a dim view of Pinner. [See Iggeret Soferim (Jerusalem, 2000), 74 n.2.] Some, have gone the other way. That is, they cannot fathom that the Hatam Sofer ever gave an approbation nor that he then retracted it. The Munkatcher Rebbi, makes this claim to note that the entire book Iggeret Soferim is a forgery as it mentions, inter alia, that the Hatam Sofer retracted. But, as is discussed in detail in the Zikhronot u-Mesorot, this claim is incorrect; specifically as it relates to Pinner story. The Maharam Schick, notes that the Hatam Sofer retracted, and in fact, according to the Mahram, this demonstrates the greatness of the Hatam Sofer that he is able to admit when he erred. (See Zikhronot, pp. 15-6).

Returning to the Pinner talmud. Why was it that no further volumes were published? According to some it was due to the retraction of the Hatam Sofer. That is, since the Hatam Sofer disapproved of the translation thus Pinner was unable to publish any further volumes.[2] This, however, makes little sense in light of the fact the Hatam Sofer had made known his negative views towards Pinner’s translation some 7 years prior to Pinner publishing even his first volume. Additionally, it is hard to see how the Hatam Sofer’s opinion would effect the target readership of Pinner’s translation those who spoke German. While there is no doubt the Hatam Sofer held sway over many Eastern European Jews, those Jews didn’t read German and probably were not interested in Pinner’s translation to begin with.

Perhaps a more likely scenario is that Pinner shot himself in the foot. Pinner’s edition contains a full page dedication to Czar Nicholas. Czar Nicholas instituted some of the harshest anti-Semitic programs, including mandatory 25 conscription into the Russian army. The point of conscription was to forcibly baptize the Jews. Pinner’s translation was aimed at cultured and educated Jews, Jews who would be aware of Nicholas’s programs. It is no surprise that there may have been significant reticence to purchase books glorifying such a person.

In fact, this would not be the first time a dedication didn’t work out that well. The first Rabbinic bible published in 1522, was not a success. Instead, it would be the second Rabbinic bible that became the template for the Mikrot Gedolot Chumash. While both were done by the same publisher and soon after one another. The main difference was the first contained a dedication to the Pope, while the second did not. Perhaps, the same happened here, and Pinner was a victim of poor judgment in securing his approbations, both in the one’s that appeared and the ones that did not.

Notes:
[1] Rabbi Adam Mintz’s research on the history of Talmud translations is the most comprehensive work on the subject; see his “Words, Meaning and Spirit: The Talmud in Translation,” Torah u-Madda Journal 5 (1994): 115-155, [see here]; later revised and reprinted in the volume, Printing The Talmud: From Bomberg to Schottenstein, published in connection with exhibit on the Talmud at the YU Museum. Additionally, in a recent issue of Ohr Yisrael, no. 50 (Tevet, 5768): 36-78, there was also a discussion regarding translations. It is worth noting that none of the articles mention Mintz’s articles. PDFs of these articles — by Adam Mintz and those from the Ohr Yisrael, no. 50 — are available in a recent post at the Michtavim blog.

The Original Prospectus for the Pinner ed. of the Talmud