In Praise of the Soncino Talmud
By David S Farkas*

Not long ago one of our local schools hosted a Giveaway day in its library, making many of the older seforim in its considerable collection free to a good home. As expected, the local citizenry plundered and pillaged, carrying off large numbers of books, many still in quite good condition. I was only able to attend towards the end, “after the last of the gleaners had gone.”[1] Only a few scattered Siddurim and Chumashim were left, when I spotted a box in a corner of the room, filled with small red volumes. Close inspection revealed that the books were none other than the Soncino Talmud, a complete set. My heart sank a little to see this classic work, neglected and abandoned. I felt, in a small way, as though I had seen the tongue of Chutzpith the Translator lying in the dust.[2]

The Soncino Press sees no press at all these days, it seems. Its groundbreaking complete English translation of the Talmud has almost entirely been supplanted by Artscroll’s Schottenstein edition. Indeed, studying with the latter presents a very much different type of engagement with the Gemara, and Artscroll has undoubtedly done a master job of it. Yet for all of its depth and analysis, Soncino to this day brings to the table things that Artscroll does not. What follows, then, is not an attempt to sing the praises of one at the expense of the other, but only to point out some of the unique features of the now-neglected Soncino, and to suggest some of its alleged flaws may have been greatly exaggerated.[3]

To begin with, the canard so many of us heard in our yeshiva days – that Soncino was edited by less than fully-religious Jews – is a terrible misimpression that, to the best of my knowledge, seems to be based purely on the evidence that it was edited by a man named Isidore. Yet Rabbi Yechezkel Epstein (as he is in fact identified, in Hebrew, on the opposite front-page of most volumes) was very much an observant Jew, who attended the Pressburg Yeshivah founded by the Chasam Sofer, and was said to know Shas by heart. The project began with Seder Nezikin in 1935 with a heartfelt prayer to Almighty God, capped with the traditional phrase יה”ר מלפני ה’ כשם שעזרתני לסיים סדר נזיקין, כן תעזרני להתחיל סדרים אחרים ולסיימם.  It concluded in 1948, as printed in Seder Kodshim, with a heartfelt תם ונשלם שבח לבורא עולם, and the traditional Hadran written out nearly in full. We can certainly say of Soncino, if we may modify R. Yosi’s summation of Kelim, “Happy art thou, Soncino – thou began in purity, and finished in purity.”[4]

Moreover, a review of the individual contributors to each volume – a list that, to my knowledge, has never before been assembled – reveals that each and every one of them were strictly orthodox, and not identified with any other stream of Judaism.[5]

The entire series is written in the best of the King’s English. Somewhat amusingly, this itself has sometimes been offered as a reason not to use the Soncino, as though students today are incapable of understanding proper English. It is true that the series occasionally uses words no longer current (such as “dam” for a mother bird or animal, or “usufruct”.) It also actually translates Biblical or Talmudic concepts, rather than simply transliterating them, a device that has become popular today. Still, the language is eminently readable to anyone devoting to it the proper attention, and it is precisely the insistence upon proper translations that sometimes leads to a better grasp of the text.[6]

Turning to more substantive matters, one key item that jumps out is the brevity of the work. In its most compact English-only edition, the entire set – and that includes all sixty tractates, plus a full-length Index volume – comes in at a trim eighteen volumes. Even with the facing Hebrew page, the set numbers no more than 30 or 35 volumes, depending on the edition.[7] Artscroll, by contrast, which incudes only those tractates with Bavli (plus Shekalim, Eduyos, and Midos) comes in at a jaw-dropping, new-bookshelves-requiring, 73 volumes.[8]

And there is something to be said for concision. At times, when I have encountered a difficulty in the (original) text, checking with Artscroll has only made things more difficult. The Artscroll method is generally to translate or paraphrase the entirety of Rashi, and doing so in English sometimes leaves the reader confused. By contrast, Soncino tends to collapse the entirety of every question and answer into one or two lines. Keeping things short and to the point, I have found, often leads to better understanding of the basic give and take of the Gemara.

This brevity is especially important – and here is a key distinction between the two translations – for those who can learn the Gemara in the original, but either lack the time or the patience to do so. Artscroll effectively prevents the user from doing anything on his own. The text is spoon-fed to the user, and because of the interlinear format, the reader never gets entirely away from the English. Though one can go to the full Hebrew text, the Hebrew woven into the English also means users can – and do – simply use the translation.  It is quite often tedious and time consuming to read, in part because the sentences are broken up every few words, and in part because of the copious long and involved footnotes. Soncino, on the other hand, rather than leading the reader by the hand, simply gives him a head start. Quickly perusing a few English-only paragraphs provides the reader with an overview of the upcoming sugya, and allows him to go back into the regular text and then read everything on his own. In essence, it requires the reader to still go back to the traditional Hebrew text, especially if he wants to fully understand the discussion.

That, of course, might well be considered a flaw, rather than a feature. As noted by R. Gil Student, the Soncino does have “limited value in helping one understand the “sugya” (progression of ideas at large).”[9] Artscroll does an excellent job of laying out for the reader where the passage is heading, and identifying what the Gemara intends to accomplish with each step of the discussion. Soncino does none of this, expecting the student to do this on his own. In some volumes, however, the text is broken up into shorter paragraphs, which on their own help the astute reader realize the Gemara’s direction.

Footnotes help, too.  Soncino very often paraphrases Rashi, only without calling attention to the fact. Moreover, it also regularly cites traditional commentators. As noted in the Introduction, these include, in addition to Rashi, “the Tosafists, Asheri, Alfasi, Maimonides, Maharsha, the glosses of BaH, Rashal, Strashun, the Wilna Gaon, etc.” I have also seen cited Rishonim like Rabbeinu Chananel or Ritva, and Achronim like R. Yaakov Emden and R. Tzvi Hirsch Chajes. Of course, and again, in no way does it approach the information provided by Artscroll. Readers with questions will often find them addressed in the lengthy notes of Artscroll, and will even more frequently encounter issues they had never considered. For sheer depth of analysis, Artscroll stands alone. Still, it is a mistake to think that Soncino gives the reader only the bare Gemara by itself.

Yet Soncino also provides information often absent from Artscroll. As the Chief Editor wrote, while he did not attempt to secure uniformity among the several authors – more on that in a moment – he himself added footnotes in brackets containing matters of historical and geographical interest. (To be sure, R. Epstein also added in many pshat based comments, though both functions noticeably decline in frequency as the series progresses into Kodshim.)

Citations to journals like the Jewish Quarterly Review or other German-language periodicals abound. Where parallels to the Gemara exist in Josephus or Apocrypha like Ben Sira, we are informed.  Likewise, parallels in Greek and Roman sources are also frequently noted.[10] Most place names are identified via Obermeyer’s 1929 geographical guide to Talmudic Babylon. Textural variants from the Septuagint are sometimes noted. Herford is also cited on anything that relates to Christianity, though, it may be said, Soncino displays somewhat of an obsession on this topic, and often perceives statements of the sages to be a disguised polemic, with very little justification.[11]

Each of the six Sedarim has its own introduction. The introductions to each of the individual volumes contain very useful summaries of the topic of each chapter, an important feature for learning the Talmud (and quite helpful for review), where the forest can easily be lost sight of. An appendix to Gittin gives what I believe to still be the best short summation of the Talmudic-era medicine described in the 7^th chapter of that Masechta, as well as a similar lengthy passage in Avoda Zara. In one of the volumes (Eruvin) diagrams are gamely used, though the technology of the time did not permit anything much more than rudimentary line drawing and shading. Similarly, the anatomical skeleton of an ox is presented in Chulin.

I noted above that the editor did not seek to achieve uniformity of style, and the uneven quality shows. Some volumes are simply better than others. In one or two cases the translation can only be called wooden, and the notes do little more than add an emphatic “Surely not!” after obviously rhetorical questions. Happily, though, in most cases the individuality of the authors accrues to the benefit of the overall translation, providing different perspectives and viewpoints. Thus, for example, the translations of Chulin and Menachos done by Eli Cashdan, a European-born Talmid Chacham of note, are particularly lucid and clear. The translation to Moed Kattan by Dayan Lazarus preserves the poetry of the original in the elegies of the third chapter by translating them into English poetry, in the classic British style of Israel Zangwill and Nina Salaman,[12] The work to the first half of Kesubos by Samuel Daiches, the only barrister at law to participate in the series (though also an ordained rabbi), is particularly rich with citations to both Roman Cannon law and English jurisprudence.[13] And a number of these highly-educated authors find parallels in Talmudic sayings to classics of literature. [14]

In short, there is much to say in favor of the Soncino Talmud. It contains many gems of scholarship and interpretation, some of them not found, to my knowledge, in any other sources. If it is not perfect – no translation ever is – it is far better than it is often given credit for. The Soncino Talmud was, and fill forever remain, a landmark of Torah literature. To echo (via paraphrase) the words of Dr. Shnayer Leiman in these pages a number of years ago, said in connection with a different classic series thought to be out of date: “Hold on to your Soncino Talmuds! Public libraries and private collectors will do well to retain them and keep them precisely on the same shelves they have now occupied these many years.”[15]

Note from the Seforim Blog editors: Prof. Saul Lieberman refers to “responsible English translations of rabbinic texts (like those of Soncino Press)” at the end of his classic poison-pen review of Jacob Neusner’s acumen as a talmudic translator. See Lieberman, Saul. “A Tragedy or a Comedy?” Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. 104, no. 2, 1984, pp. 315–319.

* Mr. Farkas received his rabbinic ordination from Ner Israel Rabbinical College in 1999. He lives with his family in Cleveland, Ohio, where he serves as Senior Corporate Counsel for a large energy company.   

[1] See Peah 8:1, Bava Metzia 21b

[2] See Chulin 142b.

[3] I have used the device of contrasting with Artscroll to highlight certain aspects of the Soncino. It should be self-understood that these points of preference are in no way intended to derogate that outstanding work, which enjoys deserved worldwide popularity. In the same vein, I use Artscroll as a contrast simply because of its wide-spread use, and not from any intent to disregard the also excellent Koren and Steinsaltz editions.

[4] The foreword and epilogue to the set – what we might today call הסכמות – contain similar sentiment. They are cited, along with brief comments on the Soncino series, in Words, Meaning, and Spirit: The Talmud in Translation (A. Mintz, Torah U’Maddah Journal 1995).

[5] The Complete list of Contributors to the Gemara include the following Rabbis, Doctors, and Misters, in alphabetical order: I. Abraham (Chagigah); Eli Cashdan (Menachos, Chulin); Abraham Cohen (Sotah, Avoda Zara); Samuel Daiches (Kesubos); H. Freedman (Sabbath, Pesachim, Nedarim, Kiddushin, Bava Metzia, Sanhedrin, Zevachim); M. Ginsberg (Betzah); L. Jung (Yoma, Arachin); E. W. Kirzner (Bava Kama); B. D. Klein (Nazir); L. Miller (Bechoros, Temurah); I. Porusch (Kerisos, Meilah); J. Rabinowitz (Taanis)  Jacob Shachter (Sanhedrin) H. M. Lazarus (Moed Kattan, Makkos); A. E. Silverstone (Shevuous);  Maurice Simon (Brachos, Eruvin, Rosh Hashana, Megilah, Gittin, Bava Basra, Bechoros, Tamid); and Israel Slotki (Sukah, Yevamos, Horayos, Bava Basra, Nidah).

The additional Mishnayos were translated by the aforementioned Israel Slotki, and Rabbis/Dcotors H. Bornstein, Phillip Cohen, Isidore Fishman, J. Israelstam, S. M. Lerhrman, and M. H. Segal.

Biographical data is available for many of these figures in Encyclopedia Judaica or Wikipedia. Information can also be found in the Jewish Communities and Records of the United Kingdom database, by clicking on the “rabbinic profiles” tab. (Available here: https://www.jewishgen.org/jcr-uk/Profiles) Note that all the figures listed here are found in the section designated for Orthodox Ministers & Cantors.

I am grateful to Dr. Marc Shapiro, who provided me with very interesting information on some of these men, and who also referred me to Rabbi Benjamin Elton, of the Great Synagogue in Australia, who likewise did the same. R. Elton, in turn, referred me to Professor David Newman, who sent me some photographs of some of the contributors – looking very rabbinic indeed.

[6] This is particularly true for the realia of the Gemara. See for example Pesachim 37a, סריקין מצויירין  which Soncino translates as “Syrian cakes”, but Artscroll transliterates as “decorated Sirikin”; Yoma 38a נחושת קלוניתא which to Soncino is Corinthian Bronze, but to Artscroll, “refined copper.”; In Moed Kattan 27a, in the context of items a mourner may sit upon, such as the chair or ground, אודייני גדולה is listed and translated by Artscroll simply as a “large mortar”, with no additional comment. Soncino translates it as “a large bench for water jugs”, footnoting to the Roman Uranariun and showing the term in parallel passages as אורנריי. Many such examples can be cited.

[7] For more on these different editions see Words, A. Mintz, Id., at fn. 49.

[8] Though this set too, now looks small, compared to the complete Hebrew-language Mesivta edition – a stupendous 136 volumes.

[9] “Tackling the Talmud: One Daf at a Time” (Jewish Action, Fall 2012)

[10] See for example Nazir 4b, showing parallels to the story described therein to the tale of Narcissus found in Ovid.

[11] See, for example, the Commentary to Sukkah 5a, Nedarim 38a and 64b. (I hasten to add, as someone once observed, “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you.” I myself recently wrote, of a Mishna in Beitzah, that it too, contained a hitherto unnoticed reference to Christianity. See my article Of Fish and Fishermen: An Unknown Christian Passage in the Talmud (Tradition 52:3 2020).)

[12] See also his nifty rendering of the phrase found there on 9b בת שיתין כבת שית לקל טבלא רהטא : “As sixty as six: the sound of a timbrel makes her nimble.”

[13] See there, for example, 17b and 20a.

[14] See Chagigah 13b, in connection with Sandalphon, referencing Longfellow’s similarly named poem; Avoda Zara 4a, comparing R. Chanina’s advice to pray for the government for without it men would swallow each other alive to a phrase in Shakespeare’s Coriolanus.

[15] The New Encyclopedia Judaica: Some Preliminary Observations. (Shnayer Leiman, Seforim Blog, June 5, 2007)

Reuven Kimelman/Brandeis University

וְנַהֲפוֹךְ הוּא

“Why are the Books of Ruth and Esther so much alike?”

No title is more intriguing than “Why are the Books of Ruth and Esther so much alike?” for a study of two biblical books ostensibly having nothing in common besides the featuring of a heroine. Otherwise, there are hardly two narrative biblical books seemingly more unalike.[1] The Book of Ruth takes place in rural Judea, in Bethlehem, in the period of the Judges, before the establishment of the Jewish monarchy. The Book of Esther takes place in Shushan HaBirah, the fortressed-capital city of the Persian empire in the period of the Persian kings, over a half millennium later after the dissolution of the Jewish monarchy. The Book of Ruth employs classical Hebrew on the model of the Books of Samuel and Kings along with some locutions mostly found in late biblical Hebrew. The Book of Esther is of late biblical Hebrew, replete with Persian words and practices. In Ruth, a Moabite woman marries a Jew leading to the fathering of a king; in Esther, a Jewish woman marries a Gentile king with no mention of heirs. Ruth revolves around family; Esther revolves around politics. Ruth is idyllic and agrarian; Esther is hellish and urban. Esther is a story of good versus evil with villains and heroes. Ruth is a story of passivity versus activity without villains or dramatic heroism. In Ruth, the worst eventuality is the destitution of two widows. In Esther, the worst eventuality is the destruction of a people.

Even in the Bible, the two books lack linkage. In the Protestant version of the Bible, following the Septuagint, their locations conform to their historical context. Ruth is placed near the beginning of the historical section between the Book of Judges and Samuel; Esther is placed near the end between Nehemiah and Job. In the current Jewish version of the Bible, following medieval Ashkenazi manuscripts, the Books of Ruth and Esther are placed with the other three Megillot or Scrolls but not juxtaposed. The five are ordered according to their lectionary use in the synagogue, starting with the Song of Songs for Pesach, Ruth for Shavuot, Lamentations for Tishah B’Av, Ecclesiastes for Sukkot, and finally Esther for Purim. Others resorted to a presumed chronological order. The Talmud (B. Baba Batra 14b) places Ruth at the beginning of the Writings right before Psalms, likely due to the David connection.

These differences are consequential in distinguishing Ruth and Esther in terms of narrative, not in terms of narratology. A story can be analyzed by its narrative, or by its narratology. The former focuses on the content; the latter on the construction. On the surface, the Books of Ruth and Esther share little; below the surface, however, the techniques for the structuring of the plot share much. As narrative, they diverge; as narratology, they converge. Narrative consists of what is told; narratology consists of how it is told. The issue is not the storyline, but its fashioning, namely, its emplotment. Emplotment deals with the fashioning of a narrative structure or plot by connecting the various elements in a coherent manner. This involves the arrangement of the individual elements into a larger framework to create a sense of purpose within the narrative. In sum, narrative deals with plot; narratology deals with emplotment.

From the perspective of narratology, the Books of Ruth and Esther share much. The most obvious is the status of Ruth and Esther as heroes in both senses, namely, most admired and most active in moving the story forward to its conclusion. On its own, this is not that telling, as there are many biblical heroines who determine the outcome of the story from Eve to Rebecca, from Rahab to Yael, from Deborah to Abigail and then later, in the Apocrypha, Judith. In Genesis alone, the subtlety and initiative of women resolve progeny issues from Sarah to Lot’s daughters, from Rebecca and Rachel to Tamar. Nonetheless, motherhood plays a minor role in Ruth while totally absent from Esther.

More significant is the sharing of the three narrative unities of time, place, and character. Unlike the stories of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Samuel, and David which extend over a lifetime, or take place in different countries, or involve a change of characters, the Books of Ruth and Esther share a limited time, mostly a single place, and consistency of characters. Both stories take less than two years; both occur primarily in a single city, Bethlehem for Ruth, Shushan for Esther; and both begin and end with the same characters, Naomi and Ruth for one, Mordechai and Esther for the other. Each is self-contained, not part of some grand narrative as in Genesis-Exodus and Joshua-Kings.

God plays a backseat role in both; neither speaking, nor directly addressed, nor directly intervening. Still, The Book of Ruth attributes much to God positively (1:6, 4:13) and negatively (1:13, 21-22). God’s blessing is invoked (1:8-9, 2:4, 20, 3:10, 4:14) and God’s aid is evoked (1:9, 2:12). It is the coincidence of events that most points to a behind-the-scenes director, sensed starkly in the happenstance of Ruth (2:3, 2:4, 4:1) as well as throughout Esther. The absence of an explicit God is countered by the presence of an implicit God. The lack of explicit God-directedness correlates with the other historical biblical books of the Persian period such as Ezra and Nehemiah and, of course, Esther in contrast to the pronounced presence of God in Samuel and Kings of the classical biblical period.

Focusing on the pattern or structure of events produces surprising connections such as the pivotal role of marriage and family. In The Book of Ruth, a quondam non-Jewish woman (Ruth) marries a Jewish man (Boaz); in The Book of Esther, a Jewish woman (Esther) marries a non-Jewish man (Achashverosh). In Ruth, a widowed Moabite woman becomes the wife of a Jewish landowner initiating a line of future Jewish kings. In Esther, a Jewish orphan becomes the wife of a Persian king saving the Jewish people. In both cases, an outsider becomes an insider through marriage. Both marriages are of questionable propriety if not once downright prohibited.

Esther herself is the second wife of Achashverosh, having assumed the perquisites of the banished Vashti (2:17b). Boaz is the second husband of Ruth, having assumed the perquisites of the deceased Mahlon (4:9-10).

In Ruth, a distressed widow prevails upon her to-be-husband to extricate her and her mother-in-law from their plight. In Esther, a distraught queen prevails upon her husband to extricate her and her people from their plight.

Both end in unexpected succession. Ruth ends in an unexpected genealogical succession — from Ruth and Boaz to Obed and David. Esther ends in an unexpected political succession — from Haman to Esther and Mordechai.

Besides the move from outsider to insider, Ruth and Esther advance from alien to actual or potential royalty, and from dependency on others to dependency of others on them as illustrated by the reversal of roles of Naomi versus Ruth and Mordechai versus Esther discussed below.

Most significant for establishing commonality is the overlap of terminology starting off with וַיְהִי בִּימֵי, “And was in the days of.” This unique biblical opening establishes the link from the outset.[3] The linkage is tightened by the common terms employed for Esther and Ruth finding favor in the eyes of their patron, making them stand out from among the women courting the attention of their patron.

Regarding Ruth and Boaz, it says:

וַתֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו: מַדּוּעַ מָצָאתִי חֵן בְּעֵינֶיךָ לְהַכִּירֵנִי וְאָנֹכִי נׇכְרִיָּה.

“She said to him, ‘Why have I found favor in your eyes to acknowledge me, being that I am a foreigner?’ ” (2:10b).

Regarding Esther and Achashverosh, it says:

וַיֶּאֱהַב הַמֶּלֶךְ אֶת־אֶסְתֵּר מִכׇּל־הַנָּשִׁים וַתִּשָּׂא־חֵן וָחֶסֶד לְפָנָיו

“The king loved Esther more than all the other women, as she gained his favor and grace” (2:17).

Similarly,

וַיְהִי כִרְאוֹת הַמֶּלֶךְ אֶת־אֶסְתֵּר הַמַּלְכָּה עֹמֶדֶת בֶּחָצֵר נָשְׂאָה חֵן בְּעֵינָיו

“As soon as the king saw Queen Esther standing in the court, she gained his favor” (5:2).

The expression of Ruth’s for finding favor מָצָאתִי חֵן בְּעֵינֶיךָ in the eyes of Boaz is used repeatedly in Esther (5:8, 7:3, 8:5) for finding favor in the eyes of Achashverosh. The חֶסֶד also appears in both albeit of contrasting meanings. For Esther, it is her external beauty, her grace (2:9, 17); for Ruth, it is her internal beauty, her kindness (3:10) or that of God (1:8, 2:20).

Two rare Hebrew usages clinch the case for verbal linkage. The first is the term for guardian or caretaker. Naomi upon taking care of Ruth’s child is designated omenet, תְּהִי־לוֹ לְאֹמֶנֶת (4:16) while Mordechai is designated Esther’s omein, וַיְהִי אֹמֵן אֶת־הֲדַסָּה (2:7). The term usually refers to female caretakers of royalty.[3] By using a term which designates a protective woman[4] for Mordechai designates him, mutatis mutandis, Naomi’s double.

The second is the rare usage of the verb שבר for “looking forward.” Elsewhere, it appears in a religious context.[5] Here alone it applies to non-Jews in a general context. For Ruth 1:13, it is the false hope of Ruth and Orpah looking forward to grown-up children from Naomi: הֲלָהֵן תְּשַׂבֵּרְנָה עַד אֲשֶׁר יִגְדָּלוּ. For Esther 9:1, it is the false hope of the enemies of the Jews looking forward to dominating them: שִׂבְּרוּ אֹיְבֵי הַיְּהוּדִים לִשְׁלוֹט בָּהֶם וְנַהֲפוֹךְ הוּא.

The common use of קים⁶ also connects them, though it shows up elsewhere.[7] Its distinctive Hebrew use as “legally authorizing,” as in Ruth 4:7 and Esther 9:32, is matched only by the Aramaic use of Daniel 6:8.

The drinking of Boaz and Achashverosh on the verge of making a fateful decision appears in corresponding terms:

Ruth says regarding Boaz:

וַיֹּאכַל בֹּעַז וַיֵּשְׁתְּ וַיִּיטַב לִבּוֹ

“And Boaz ate and drank and got into a good mood” (3:7).

Esther says regarding Achashverosh:

כְּטוֹב לֵב־הַמֶּלֶךְ בַּיָּיִן

“When the king got into a wine-induced good mood” (1:7).

The number ten figures prominently explicitly and implicitly. Explicitly: Ruth specifies that Naomi spent ten years in Moab (1:4), and that ten men are assembled at the city’s entrance gate (4:2). Esther specifies that Esther is taken to the royal quarters on the tenth month (2:16), and that the ten sons of Haman were to be hanged, meriting four mentions (9:10-14). Implicitly: According to Ruth, the generations from Peretz to David add up to ten.[8] According Esther, the number of times the gate of the king is designated as Mordechai’s station comes to ten[9] as do the number of banquet-parties.[10]

Sensitivity to spousal parallels makes others noticeable. Both begin with the loss of a spouse: Ruth loses her husband; Achashverosh loses his wife. Coming at the beginning, both losses create an expectation of a turnaround to make up for the loss. In The Book of Ruth, Naomi resolves the issue by having Ruth marry Boaz. In The Book of Esther, Mordecai resolves the issue by having Esther marry Achashverosh. In both cases, the older relative (Naomi and Mordechai) mentors the younger relative (Ruth and Esther) by guiding the younger on turning around the situation. In both cases, the advice is accepted by the younger though adjusted by their feminine wiles to turn the tables and achieve their goal. The result is that both induce their ruling man (Boaz and Achashverosh) to intervene and save them and company.

The night is the common watershed. Ruth evokes the salvific mid-night of the Exodus by using the identical expression of the Exodus (12:29) וַיְהִי בַּחֲצִי הַלַּיְלָה saying:

וַיְהִי בַּחֲצִי הַלַּיְלָה וַיֶּחֱרַד הָאִישׁ וַיִּלָּפֵת וְהִנֵּה אִשָּׁה שֹׁכֶבֶת מַרְגְּלֹתָיו

At mid-night, the man gave a start and recoiled—behold a woman lying at his feet (3:8).

Esther says:

בַּלַּיְלָה הַהוּא נָדְדָה שְׁנַת הַמֶּלֶךְ.

That night, sleep eluded the king (6:1).

Neither Boaz nor Achashverosh get an uninterrupted night’s sleep. Indeed, the night constitutes the turnaround precipitating the denouement.

The dramatic tension grabs the reader’s attention awaiting the outcome of the heroine’s (Ruth or Esther) daring encroachment on the space of the man in control (Boaz or Achashverosh). Both Ruth (3:3) and Esther (5:1) get dressed up for the occasion. Both resolutions involve a type of exposure, admittedly somewhat distinct, at the respective deciding point: Ruth (3:6) exposes the leg of Boaz at his threshing floor; Esther exposes Haman’s plot to Achashverosh at her party. Both have a potential spoiler: “Tov” or peloni almoni in Ruth; Haman in Esther. The man in control (Boaz or Achashverosh) responds favorably to the heroine’s entreaty and resolves the issue by the disposal or circumvention of the spoiler, “Tov” (Ruth 4:4-10) or Haman (Esther 7:10).

The removal of legal obstacles smooths the way to the final resolution. For Ruth (4:4-10), a prior claim needs to be circumvented to allow Boaz to exercise his option. For Esther (8:8-11), a previous edict needs to be circumvented to allow for Jewish self-defense.

Even Orpah and Vashti have their parallels. Orpah serves as Ruth’s foil; Vashti serves as Esther’s foil. Orpah and Vashti do the sensible and vacate the stage. Ruth and Esther do the outrageous and occupy center stage.

How do Ruth and Esther implement their center-making roles? Both revise their mentors’ urgings to intervene. Ruth subtly amends Naomi’s advice. Naomi instructs Ruth to interrupt Boaz’s sleep on the threshing floor and do what he says, וְהוּא יַגִּיד לָךְ אֵת אֲשֶׁר תַּעַשִׂין (3:4b). Instead, Ruth turns the tables leading Boaz to say:

וְעַתָּה בִּתִּי אַל־תִּירְאִי
כֹּל אֲשֶׁר־תֹּאמְרִי אֶעֱשֶׂה־לָּךְ.

And now, my young lady, have no fear,
whatever you say I will do for you (3:11a).

Naomi assumed that Boaz, the wealthy landowner, would call the shots; Ruth, the destitute foreigner, proved otherwise.

Note also the parallel between Boaz and Achashverosh.

The former says to Ruth: “whatever you say I will do for you” (ibid.);

the latter says to Esther:

וּמַה־שְּׁאֵלָתֵךְ וְיִנָּתֵן לָךְ
וּמַה־בַּקָּשָׁתֵךְ עוֹד וְתֵעָשׂ

Whatever is your wish, it shall be granted.
And whatever is your request? It shall be done (9:12).

Ruth also pointedly revises Boaz’s own compliment to her about God into her directive to Boaz:

(אֲשֶׁר־בָּאת לַחֲסוֹת תַּחַת־כְּנָפָיו = “that you sought refuge under His wings” [2:12b]
וּפָרַשְׂתָּ כְנָפֶךָ עַל־אֲמָתְךָ כִּי גֹאֵל אָתָּה

Spread your wing (= corner of the garment[11]) over your handmaid, for you are the redeemer (3:9).

This expression for being taken under God’s wings indicating solicitude, as in Ruth 2:12b, is frequent in Psalms.[12] Its use at 3:9, however, in the light of Ezekiel 16:8,[13] conjures up conjugality intimating minimally eligibility if not a marriage proposal.[14] Ruth thereby instigates the process of redemption by turning the tables on the male in charge initiating the denouement.

Esther, for her part, deflects Mordechai’s rash advice to barge in on the king and plead the case of her people. Instead, she sets up Haman by inviting him to a party in her private quarters with her husband with whom she has not been for thirty days (4:11b). The impervious Haman, so full of himself (7:5b), as Achashverosh notes, falls for the trap oblivious of the repercussions of a ménage à trois.[15]

Both books record two interventions of women offering advice. In Ruth, the local women speak up twice. The first at 1:19-20 is negative regarding Naomi’s self-pitying bitterness upon her return to Judea and the irony of being called Naomi, which plays on the Hebrew for pleasantness. The second is positive regarding the birth of Obed, her new-born, as it were, grandchild:

וַתֹּאמַרְנָה הַנָּשִׁים אֶל־נׇעֳמִי
בָּרוּךְ יי אֲשֶׁר לֹא הִשְׁבִּית לָךְ גֹּאֵל הַיּוֹם
וְיִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל

And the women said to Naomi:
“Blessed be the Lord who has not deprived you of a redeemer today.
May he achieve renown in Israel” (4:14).

In Esther, the first is positive reflecting Haman’s spectacular rise:

She (Zeresh) says along with others “Let a stake be put up fifty cubits high, and in the morning ask the king to have Mordecai impaled on it. Then you can go gaily with the king to the feast” (5:14).

The second is negative projecting his spectacular fall:

His advisers and his wife Zeresh said to him, “If Mordecai, before whom you have begun to fall, is of Jewish stock, you will not prevail; you will fall before him to your ruin” (6:13).

In fact, at 7:8, Haman falls before Esther.

They also share a common historical perspective albeit reversed.

The Book of Ruth projects three generations forward to David, Boaz’s great-grandson:

וּבֹעַז הוֹלִיד אֶת־עוֹבֵדוְעֹבֵד הוֹלִיד אֶת־יִשָׁי וְיִשַׁי הוֹלִיד אֶת־דָּוִד

Boaz begot Obed, Obed begot Jesse, and Jesse begot David (4:21b-22).

The Book of Esther retrojects three generations backward to Kish, Mordechai’s great-grandfather:

אִישׁ יְהוּדִי הָיָה בְּשׁוּשַׁן הַבִּירָה וּשְׁמוֹ
מׇרְדֳּכַי בֶּן יָאִיר בֶּן־שִׁמְעִי בֶּן־קִישׁ אִישׁ יְמִינִי

In the capital Shushan lived a Jew by the name of
Mordecai, son of Jair, son of Shimei, son of Kish, a Benjaminite (2:5).

In the end, the prominence of the younger heroines, Ruth and Esther, yields to that of the older mentors, Naomi and Mordechai. The plot of The Book Ruth begins (1:2) and ends (4:17) with Naomi. Beginning as the mother of Ruth’s husband, she ends up as the mother of Ruth’s child, nearly edging Ruth out. In the middle, at the turning point, Ruth dominates. The plot of The Book of Esther begins (2:5) with Mordechai as Esther’s uncle/cousin and the dominant one. In the middle, at the turning point, Esther dominates. By the end of chapter 9, they appear as coregents albeit with a subtle variance. At 9:29, Esther’s name precedes Mordechai’s, whereas at 9:31 Mordechai’s name precedes Esther’s. True, Esther appears alone at 9:32; but by the end, Mordechai has edged out Esther as evidenced by the closing encomium to Mordechai:

For Mordecai the Jew ranked next to King Ahasuerus and was highly regarded by the Jews and popular with the multitude of his brethren; he sought the good of his people and interceded for the welfare of all his kindred (10:3).

Following suit, II Maccabees 13:42, designates Purim as “the day of Mordechai.”

Ruth ends with the birth of David (4:22), the future regent of Israel. Esther ends with the rise of Mordechai as coregent of Persia (10:3). Mordechai is the great-grandson of an exile from Jerusalem along with the last reigning descendant of King David (2:6). David is the great-grandson of Ruth who left Moab to accompany Naomi on her return to the land of Judah (1:7b).

Two tales of dizzying reversals; so different in content, yet so alike in structure. Both feature individual and collective reversals. Ruth: Individually, a Moabite childless, destitute widow becomes the Jewish spouse of a wealthy landowner and progenitress of David, the future king of Israel. Collectively, in the period of the Judges are planted the seeds of the future monarchy. Esther: Individually, an orphan Jewish girl becomes the Queen of Persia. Collectively, a people threatened with extermination emerge politically dominant and religiously attractive.[16]

Most dramatic are the reversals of Esther regarding those of Haman and Mordecai.[17] Haman — instead of hanging is hanged. Mordechai — instead of being hanged on raised gallows is raised to viceroy of Persia. Haman, seeking the king’s authorization to shame Mordecai by hanging him in public (5:14), is authorized by the king to honor him in public (6:11). Wishing to be exalted by the king (6:6b), Haman is debased by the king. Instead of riding on the king’s horse exultingly, he draws Mordecai on it humiliatingly (6:11). Finally, Mordecai displaces Haman as the king’s second getting Haman’s ring (8:2) and adorned in the royal garments, לְבוּשׁ מַלְכוּת (13:15), of Haman’s aspiration (6:8).

Esther — instead of going down with her people (7:4), becomes the savior of her people (8:5-6). As Esther assumes Vashti’s role (2:17b), so Mordechai assumes Haman’s role (8:2a). Indeed, the leitmotif וְנַהֲפוֹךְ הוּא, “reversal” (9:1, 22), epitomizes the whole book, smacking of a Divine hand. In an upside-down moral world only a reversal can set things right.

Reversals, as noted, also characterizes Ruth, most notably in the land of Israel transitioning from famine (1:1) to abundance (1:6) as Ruth transitions from barrenness to fruitfulness. What, however, is a secondary narratological technique in Ruth emerges as the dominant engine in Esther.

There are even reversals common to both. Both highlight the reversal from non-Jewishness to Jewishness. For Ruth, it involves the individual switching of ethnic and religious loyalties:

עַמֵּךְ עַמִּי וֵא-לֹהַיִךְ אֱ-לֹהָי =

Your people are my people, and your God my God (1:6).

For Esther, it involves the mass switching to Jewishness throughout the Persian empire:

ְרַבִּים מֵעַמֵּי הָאָרֶץ מִתְיַהֲדִים =

Many of the native population profess to be/act like Jews (8:17).

Ruth, who aligns with God and people, is blessed to God by her people (2:20, 3:10). Esther, who aligns with her people (8:6), saves herself and her people (8:5).

There might even be some correlation in the fact that The Book of Ruth ends with the planting of the seeds of the Jewish monarchy while The Book of Esther ends with the Jewish integration into the Persian monarchy.

Both resonate with their own peals of redemption. For The Book of Ruth, redemption is that of Israel in its land; for The Book of Esther, redemption is that of Israel outside its land. Introducing Mordechai as a descendant of Kish who was exiled from Jerusalem along with the Judean king (2:6) could have prompted a finale of the return of Israel to its land as at the end of Chronicles or the beginnings of Ezra or Nehemiah were it not for the restraints of historical verisimilitude.

The result is that The Book of Esther only features an interim redemption, dependent on the whim of a mercurial king. Lacking explicit terminology for redemption, not even a nod to any return, it stands in sharp contrast with The Book of Ruth with its use of a form of the verb שב (= “return”) some twelve times in chapter one about half of which refer to returning to the land and its repetition of the lexeme גאל (= “redeem”) twenty-one times (nine as a noun and twelve as a verb) concentrated in the last two chapters of Ruth. The repeated mention of redemption albeit of individuals and land cannot help but allude to that of the people in its land constituting real redemption. The term is just too repercussive to be contained in or restrained by its denotation especially in the light of the echoes of Exodus 20:2,

, אָנֹכִי יְי אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֲשֶׁר הוֹצֵאתִיךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם מִבֵּית עֲבָדִ͏ים

in the formulation of Ruth 3:13: וּגְאַלְתִּיךְ אָנֹכִי חַי־יְי; the redemptive allusion of Ruth 3:8 to the forecited Exodus 12:29; and the revealing double mention of the genealogical line to David (4:17b, 22) making “David” the final word. The redemptive resonances of גאל are most audible in the forecited 3:9 כִּי גֹאֵל אָתָּה and in the reverberating 4:14 –

בָּרוּךְ יְי אֲשֶׁר לֹא הִשְׁבִּית לָךְ גֹּאֵל הַיּוֹם וְיִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל

Blessed be the Lord who has not deprived you of a redeemer today. May he be renown in Israel (4:14) –

thereby intimating not so subtly the to-be Davidic role in the redemption of Israel. The combination of גֹּאֵל with וְיִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל is the clincher, as the standard way of naming is merely יִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ, whereas וְיִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל is unique to Ruth 4:14[18] intimating that the גֹּאֵל that emerges on the horizon today is to be renown in Israel. This conforms to the usage of the comparable terminology in the redemption-oriented verse of Isaiah 54:5:

כִּי בֹעֲלַיִךְ עֹשַׂיִךְ יי צְבָאוֹת שְׁמוֹ וְגֹאֲלֵךְ קְדוֹשׁ יִשְׂרָאֵל אֱלֹהֵי כָל־הָאָרֶץ יִקָּרֵא

The Ruth reference thus far exceeds the otherwise unknown Obed. Limiting גֹּאֵל to Obed who somehow redeems Naomi, his mother’s mother-in-law, with which he has no blood relationship, is an unattested usage unable to account for either denotation or connotation. This leads to the allusive possibility that the “redemption” encompasses also the return to the Land.[19]

Esther deftly molds the various plot elements and literary strategies of Ruth into its own version of redemption. As in Ruth, female intuition and initiative engineer the redemption determining the destiny of Israel. The insights and plans of the women prevail over those of the men. Whereas the men — Achashverosh, Haman, Mordechai, and Boaz — tend to misread the situation somewhat blinded by their own set of circumstances; the women — Esther, Vashti, Zeresh, Ruth and Naomi – perceptively size up the situation knowing what to do and when to do it.

Singularly engaging in lucid Hebrew, Ruth and Esther are eminently readable, plot-based narratives, unlike the other three Megillot. Every scene advances the narrative. All purported incidental elements are integrated, nothing remains extraneous. Like a well-structured drama, each character, however introduced, ends up contributing to the plot at the appropriate time. The result is the two most self-contained yet reverberating literary gems of the Bible.

In the final analysis, the surface differences fail to mask the subsurface commonalities. Esther so echoes Ruth that the divergences of narrative pale before the convergences of narratology.[20] The correlation of the roles of Naomi and Mordechai, Boaz and Achashverosh, and — above all — Ruth and Esther seal the case. It’s the latter two that renders the midrashic observation regarding the Exodus —

בזכות נשים צדקניות… נגאלו ממצרים

“By virtue of the righteous women… Israel was redeemed from Egypt”[21] — applicable to both heroines of Shavuot and Purim[22] as we look forward to the merit of righteous woman effectuating other redemptions.[23]

[1] For a fuller treatment of the two books without raising this issue, see the introductions to The JPS Bible Commentary on Esther and Ruth, the first by Adele Berlin, 2001, and the second by Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Tikva Frymer-Kensky, 2011. The issue is somewhat touched upon by P. Meltsar, Ruth, Da’at HaMikra, amesh Megillot (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1990), pp. 21-22. The issue of the comparability of the two is taken up by Orit Avnery, Liminal Women: Belonging and Otherness in the Books of Ruth and Esther (Hebrew), Shalom Hartman Institute, Jerusalem 2015, from a speculative feminist perspective with little overlap with this study.
[2] According to ancient authorities this portends negatively for both (B. Megillah 10b).
[3] See 2 Samuel 4:4; 2 Kings 10:1, 5; Isaiah 49:12, 60:4.
[4] As confirmed by Moses’s metaphorical use in Numbers 11:12.
[5] See Psalms 104:27, 119:166, 145:15.
[6] Ruth 4:7; Esther 9:21, 29, 31, 32.
[7] See Ezekiel 13:6; Psalms 119:28, 106; Daniel 4:23; 6:8, 16, 27. The four occurrences in Daniel and Esther reflect its frequency in post-exilic Hebrew.
[8] As opposed to 1 Chronicles 2:4-15 which starts with Judah, as would be expected, and traces eleven generations to David. Ten reflects a turning point as in from Adam to Noah (Genesis 5:3-32) and from Shem to Abraham (Genesis 11:10-26), the correlation of which is made explicit in Mishnah Avot 5:2. In the latter, Shem’s father, Noah, is not mentioned just as Perez’s father, Judah, is not mentioned here making for ten in both cases. Genealogical lines climax at ten, with Noah, Abraham, and David, none of which is make explicit.
[9] See Esther 2:19, 2:21, 3;3, 4:2 (2x), 4:6, 5:9, 5:13, 6:10, 6:12.
[10] See Eskenazi, The JPS Bible Commentary Esther, xxiv-xxv.
[11] See 1 Samuel 15:27; 24:5-6, 12.
[12] Psalms 7:2, 17:8, 36:8, 91:4
[13] וָאֶעֱבֹר עָלַיִךְ וָאֶרְאֵךְ וְהִנֵּה עִתֵּךְ עֵת דֹּדִים וָאֶפְרֹשׂ כְּנָפִי עָלַיִךְ וָאֲכַסֶּה עֶרְוָתֵךְ

“When I passed over you and saw it was your time for lovemaking, I spread My garment over you and covered your nakedness.” See Deuteronomy 23:1, 27:20.
[14]For the range of possibilities, see Eskenazi, JPS Bible Commentary Ruth, p. 59.
[15] See Rashi, Esther 5:4, 6:1, along with Alshikh and Alkabetz, ad loc., in Sefaria.
[16] See Esther 8:11.
[17] See Berlin, The JPS Bible Commentary to Esther, p. xxiv.
[18] Albeit close to the related formulation of Deuteronomy 25:10.
[19] This is all the more likely were Ruth composed in the Persian period.
[20] This builds on Esther’s use of biblical motifs especially that of the Joseph story; see Berlin, The JPS Bible Commentary, pp. xxxvii, lvi-lvii. Note specifically Esther’s contraction and inversion of יֵּט אֵלָיו חָסֶד וַיִּתֵּן חִנּוֹ for Joseph (Genesis 39:21) into the unique biblical use of חֵן וָחֶסֶד for Esther (Esther 2:17).
[21] B. Sotah 11b.
[22] For the prior application to Esther, see Rashi, B. Pesahim 108b.
[23] אין הדורות נגאלים אלא בזכות נשים צדקניות שבדור (Midrash Ruth Zuta 4.11, ed. S. Buber, p. 48).