On Wednesday, April 5, 1617 (= 29 Adar Sheni, 5377), birkat ha-hammah was recited throughout the Jewish world. Two witnesses – both were present in Frankfurt on that day – left accounts of the ceremony as it was commemorated in Frankfurt.[1] The first witness is R. Yosef Yuzpa Hahn (1570-1637), in his Yosef Ometz[2] (Frankfurt, 1723):[3] לסוף כל מחזור גדול ביום ד’ הראשון בחודש ניסן שבו התקופה נופלת בשנת ראשונה במחזור גדול מקדשין החמה. ומנהג פה שכל הקהל הולכים תיכף אחר בית הכנסת לחצר בית עלמין ואומרים ברוך אתה ה’ אלקינו מלך העולם עושה מעשה בראשית, והשמש מכריז בשחרית בבית הכנסת שילכו כל הקהל לקדש החמה. The second witness is R. Asher b. R. Eliezer Ha-Levi (circa 1598-1660), an Ashkenazic merchant and rabbinic scholar who lived most of his life in Alsace. In his Sefer Zikhronot (Berlin, 1913), he writes:[4] כ”ט ואדר שע”ז בהיותי בק’ ורנקבורט נתחדש החמה כי כן נעשה כל כ”ח שנה מחזור החמה, ולא נעשה כזאת עוד עד ער”ח ניסן ארבע מאות וחמשה, אשרי המחכה ויגיע לימים אלו, והלכו כל הקהל בשעה ג’ על היום על בית הקברות, ויום מעונן היה, ועמדתי בתוכם ואמרנו פה אחד: ברוך עושה מעשה בראשית. The plain sense of the texts is that the blessing was recited just outside the old Jewish cemetery of Frankfurt. R. Yosef Yuzpa Hahn’s “חצר בית עלמין“ is certainly not to be confused with “בבית עלמין.” Similarly, R. Asher b. R. Eliezer Ha-Levi’s “על בית הקברות” means “adjacent to” or “by” and is not to be confused with “בבית הקברות.”[5] Readers of the testimony of these two witnesses were puzzled as to why in Frankfurt birkat ha-hammah was recited adjacent to the Jewish cemetery. No such practice is recorded elsewhere in Jewish literature. The puzzlement was compounded by some later authorities (see below) who understood the witnesses as testifying that in Frankfurt birkat ha-hammah was recited in the Jewish cemetery. This surely demanded explanation! Given the recent proliferation of halakhic anthologies on birkat ha-hammah,[6] we decide to investigate some of them in order to see how this problem was addressed.[7] R. Mordechai Genut, summarizing the previous birkat ha-hammah literature, writes:[8] מנהג פרנקפורט דמיין היה לברך ברכה זו בבית-הקברות. It is difficult, of course, to imagine the Kohanim of Frankfurt marching into the cemetery and reciting birkat ha-hammah![9] One wonders too why the concept of לועג לרש, which does not allow for the public performance of mitzvoth in a cemetery (e.g., wearing of tallit or tefillin or recital of the fixed prayers)[10], seems not to apply to birkat ha-hammah![11] Surprisingly, R. Genut did not address these specific issues, but he did wonder why in Frankfurt they insisted on reciting birkat ha-hammah in the cemetery. In a footnote, he cites several solutions. Here, we shall focus only on the first two (of the three solutions he proffers). The first solution is that Jewish cemeteries provide a conducive setting for repentance. (And one should not perform any mitzvah – and certainly not one that can be performed only once in 28 years – without first engaging in an act of repentance.) Even conceding all the “givens” of R. Genut’s first solution, the fact remains that this practice was unique to Frankfurt. Surely it is strange that no other Jewish community saw the need to recite birkat ha-hammah in the cemetery. The second solution is that the Jewish cemetery in Frankfurt was on elevated ground. Presumably, R. Genut means that the cemetery grounds were more elevated than the ground upon which the Jews actually resided in Frankfurt. But this, in fact, is not true. From the Jewish quarter, one walked downhill in order to reach the cemetery. These solutions are hardly persuasive. More importantly, as the witnesses cited at the start of this essay make abundantly clear, the Jews of Frankfurt recited birkat ha-hammah adjacent to the Jewish cemetery, not in it. R. Genut missed an important reference[12] that makes this very distinction – a comment published by R. Yissakhar Tamar in 1979. We present the full comment here, because – as we shall see –it left an indelible imprint on other recent halakhic anthologies on birkat ha-hammah.[13] ואגב הרני מעיר שמביא [הרב צבי מושקוביץ, ברכת החמה, ירושלים, תשי”ג] בשם ספר יוסף אומץ שמנהג פפד”מ הוא לברך ברכת החמה בבית עלמין, והנה דבר זה זר מאד, ברם יצאה שגיאה מלפניו מתוך חוסר ידיעה, וז”ל היוסף אומץ בסימן שע”ח: לסוף כל מחזור גדול מקדשין החמה, ומנהג פה שכל הקהל הולכים תיכף אחר (יציאת)[14] בית הכנסת לחצר בית העולמין ואומרים וכו’ עכ”ל. ומי שהיה בפפד”מ, ואני הייתי שם בשנת תרפ”א, יודע שביהכנ”ס הישן הוא מלוכד יחד עם בית העולמין, כי לא נתנו להם בזמן הקודם חלקת שדה לבית עלמין אלא דווקא בגיטו וע”י בהכנ”ס, ודרך חלונות ביהכנ”ס רואים את בית העולמין והמצבות. ומי שיודע זה קורא את דברי יוסף אומץ בלי כל הפתעה, רק באופן טבעי כן הוא שבזמן שהקהל מתאסף יחד כשיוצאין מביהכנ”ס יוצאין לחצר בית עלמין, ומברכין שם ברכת החמה. ולא התאספו ברחוב לפני ביהכנ”ס כדי שלא יעוררו ענין ותשומת לב אצל הגוים כשמתאסף קהל גדול, אבל לא שיהיה איזה מנהג שיברכו ברכת החמה דוקא בבית העלמין, שזה דבר מוזר מאד, ור”צ מושקוביץ מתוך חוסר ידיעה זו שגה בזה וגם העתיק “בית עלמין” במקום “חצר בית עלמין”. R. Tamar is to be congratulated for being the first to lay to rest (alas, without success) the claim that the Jews of Frankfurt recited birkat ha-hammah in the Jewish cemetery. Sadly, however, much of his comment is mistaken, and – in fact – would mislead those who came after him. We do not doubt for a moment that he was, as he claims, in Frankfurt in 1921. Nor do we doubt that he saw a synagogue adjacent to the Jewish cemetery, from whose windows one could see the tombstone inscriptions. But this was not the בית כנסת הישן of Frankfurt, as Tamar calls it, nor was it the synagogue that the Jews of Frankfurt prayed in during the 17th century, when R. Joseph Yuzpa Hahn and R. Asher b. R. Eliezer Ha-Levi wrote their accounts of birkat ha-hammah. (Fig. 1) Briefly, when R. Samson Raphael Hirsch succeeded in creating a thriving separatist Orthodox Jewish community in Frankfurt in the 19th century (after the majority of the official Jewish community had joined the Reform movement), it became apparent to the official Jewish community that the best way to counter Hirsch’s success was by finding a place for Orthodoxy within the official Jewish community. The communal authorities agreed in 1878 to appoint an Orthodox rabbi, Rabbi Markus Horovitz (author of שו”ת מטה לוי), aside from the Reform rabbis already in their employ. As a precondition to his appointment, Rabbi Horovitz demanded that a new Orthodox synagogue be built for his community in Frankfurt. It was constructed in 1882 – a magnificent structure – and was known as the Börneplatz Synagogue (figure 1) until its destruction by the Nazis on November 10, 1938.[15] Indeed, it was built adjacent to the Jewish cemetery, and its windows overlooked the tombstones in the cemetery. It displaced the old Jewish hospital, not a synagogue. No other synagogue in the history of Frankfurt was built overlooking the Jewish cemetery. This, then, was the synagogue that R. Tamar saw in 1921. But, of course, it didn’t exist in 1617 and therefore cannot be used to explain the accounts of R. Joseph Yuzpa Hahn and R. Asher b. Eliezer Ha-Levi.[16] Tamar’s confused account misled at least two of the recent halakhic anthologies on birkat ha-hammah, R. Gavriel Zinner, נטעי גבריאל: קידוש החמה וברכתה (Jerusalem, 2009)[17] and R. Yonah Buxbaum, קידוש החמה (Jerusalem, 2009).[18] Both cite Tamar’s account as authoritative, without further comment. In the case of R. Buxbaum (prior to his citation of Tamar), two reasons are suggested for the recitation of birkat ha-hammah adjacent to the Jewish cemetery: it provided greater space for the entire Jewish community to gather and recite the blessing together, and it provided a better view of the sun. At last, a breath of fresh air! We shall devote the remainder of this essay to an analysis of these two suggestions, to see whether or not they are likely explanations of what happened in Frankfurt. An organized Jewish community existed in Frankfurt from as early as 1150. Christian persecution of the Jews in Frankfurt was rampant throughout the medieval period and took a variety of forms. In 1462, it took the form of a decree issued by the Frankfurt Council which forced the Jews to live in a newly created ghetto. It was basically one long street, called the Judengasse, ultimately with four and five story wooden row-houses on both sides of the street (figures 2, 3, and 4).[19] Initially, walls 30 feet high were constructed around the ghetto to keep the Jews out of Christian Frankfurt. The gates that allowed entry in and exit from the ghetto were kept locked at night. Jews could not leave the ghetto on Sundays and Christian holidays (until 1798, when this restriction was rescinded). These were the basic conditions of Jewish life on Frankfurt until the 19th century, when in the aftermath of the French Revolution and Emancipation, the ghetto walls came crumpling down and Jews were permitted to live outside the ghetto.[20] (Fig. 2) (Fig. 3) (Fig. 4) A wonderful account of the Judengasse is preserved in the writings of R. Jacob Joshua Falk (author of פני יהושע), who described what he saw when he moved to Frankfurt in 1742 in order to serve as Chief Rabbi:[21] בבאי לכאן ק”ק פפד”מ עיר הגדולה לאלקים, רבתי עם, רבתי בדעות, ראיתי שערוריה גדולה בין כהני ה’, בהיות הדבר ידוע שאין ליהודים פה כי אם רחבה אחת קטנה, ארוכה כמות שהיא מצפון לדרום ונחלקה לשתי שכונות, אחת מצד מזרח ושכנגדה למולה מצד מערב, ואין הפסק בין הבתים, כל שכונה ושכונה, כי אם במקומות מעט מזעיר. והיה כי ימות מת באחד מבתי השכונה, הוצרכו הכהנים להיות נעים ונדים ולזוז ממקום ולילך משכונה לשכונה שכנגדה. ואם ח”ו גם באותה שכונה ימות המת, אזי לא ימצא מנוח לכף רגלם, ללון לינה אחת ברחוב היהודים כלל, כי אם במקומות מעט מזעיר. Lest anyone assume that the פני יהושע’s description of the Judengasse applies only to the 18th century, and not earlier, a map of Frankfurt – drawn in 1628 – indicates otherwise (see figure 5).[22] The map, contemporary with R. Joseph Juzpa Hahn and R. Asher b. R. Eliezer Ha-Levi, depicts the Judengasse exactly as described by the פני יהושע.
(Fig. 5) One other point needs to be addressed in order for this analysis to continue. What time in the morning did davening begin in Frankfurt, and when did they recite the birkat ha-hammah? Regarding the latter question, the two witnesses cited at the start of the essay seem to contradict each other. R. Joseph Yuzpa Hahn indicates that the blessing was recited immediately after davening, adjacent to the cemetery. R. Asher b. R. Eliezer Ha-Levi indicates that it was recited “in the third hour,” adjacent to the cemetery. In fact, we know that on April 5, 1617, sunrise (more specifically: נץ החמה) in Frankfurt was at 5:53 A.M. and sunset was at 7:03 P.M.[23] If one counted hours from 6:00 A.M., the third hour was between 8:00 and 9:00 A.M. If one counted שעות זמניות, the third hour from sunrise was approximately between 8:05 and 9:11 A.M. We also know exactly what time davening ordinarily began, thanks to Johann Jacob Schudt, who testifies that services began every weekday morning in Frankfurt at 6:00 A.M.[24] Assuming that davening took not more than an hour, according to R. Hahn the blessing was recited shortly after 7:00 A.M. According to R. Ha-Levi it was recited shortly after 8:00 A.M.[25] At that hour, on the Judengasse, due to the row-houses, the sun could not be seen at all! This was because the Judengasse was a crescent shaped street on a North-South axis, more or less perpendicular to the Main River. In order to see the sun – rising in the East and setting in the West – it was necessary to leave the ghetto and walk to the nearest open space, so that the blessing could be properly recited. The nearest open space, just beyond the southern gate of the ghetto, was the Jewish cemetery and its surrounding fields (see figure 6).[26] (Fig. 6) Returning to the two suggestions of R. Buxbaum, the first was that the land adjacent to the cemetery provided greater space for the entire Jewish community to gather and recite the blessing together. Doubtless this is true, but it does not seem likely that this was the key factor for the decision to walk out to the cemetery area. There was one place in the Jewish ghetto where large crowds could gather, if the only concern was ברוב עם הדרת מלך. Weddings in Jewish Frankfurt were performed just outside the doors of the main synagogue[27] precisely because there was sufficient room for all the invited guests to attend the ceremony (see figure 7).[28] In 1617, there were some 454 Jewish families living in Frankfurt.[29] These could easily gather in front of the main synagogue, if necessary in shifts. If they walked to the cemetery area nonetheless, it was because only there could the sun be sighted and the blessing recited. R. Buxbaum’s second suggestion was that the cemetery area provided “a better view” of the sun. We would suggest that it provided the only view of the sun – at an early hour – in Jewish Frankfurt from the 15th through the 19th centuries.
(Fig. 7) It is noteworthy that some 30,000 Jews lived in Frankfurt in 1925, a year in which birkat ha-hammah was recited. There are no reports that Jews went to the cemetery area in order to recite the blessing. It was no longer necessary.

[1] A third witness from Frankfurt, R. Joseph Koshmann, נהג כצאן יוסף (Hanau, 1718; cf. the Tel-Aviv, 1969 edition, p. 145), also discusses birkat ha-hammah. Since he makes no reference to the Jewish cemetery in Frankfurt, the focus of discussion of this essay, his account will not be addressed.[2] The correct name of the sefer is יוסיף אומץ. The printer misread the manuscript copy (still extant at the Bodleian Library in Oxford), and it is by the mistaken title that the book is read and cited. See R. Yissachar Tamar,עלי תמר: ירושלמי סדר זרעים (Tel-Aviv, 1979), vol. 1, p. 294. [3] . §378. Cf. יוסף אומץ (Frankfurt, 1928), p. 80, §378. R. Hahn’s testimony is not necessarily confined to the 1617 recital of the birkat ha-hammah, as he may also have witnessed the 1589 recital when he was 19 years old. [4]. P. 7 of the Hebrew section of M. Ginsburger, ed., Die Memoiren des Ascher Levy (Berlin, 1913). Cf. E. Kallmann, ed., Les Mémoirs d’Ascher Levy de Reichshoffen (Paris, 2003), p. 21, interlinear addition 2. [5] Cf. Psalm 137:1 על נהרות בבל, which can only mean “at the side of; by.” See also Rashi to Gen. 14:6. [6] See, e.g., E. Brodt and Ish Sefer, “A Preliminary Bibliography of the Recent Works on Birkat ha-Chamah,” Tradition Seforim Blog, March 27, 2009; and Akavya Shemesh, “על ספר קידוש החמה לר’ יונה בר”י בוקסבוים,” Tradition Seforim Blog, March 30, 2009. [7] We have examined the following 6 works only: R. J. David Bleich, Bircas HaChammah (Brooklyn, 2009); R. Yonah Buxbaum, קידוש החמה (Shikun Square, 2009); R. Mordechai Genut, ברכת החמה בתקופתה (Bnei Brak, 2009); R. Menachem Mendel Gerlitz, ברכת החמה כהלכתה (Jerusalem, 2009); R. Yehuda Herskowitz,The Sun Cycle (Monsey, 2009); and R. Gavriel Zinner, נטעי גבריאל: הלכות ברכות החמה (Brooklyn, 2009). [8] Genut, p. 290. [9] Had there been any validity to this presumption, it surely would have been adduced by the late R. Mordechai Spielman in his ציון לנפש צבי (Brooklyn, 1976), an anthology of all passages in rabbinic literature that allow a Kohen to enter a cemetery.[10] See שולחן ערוך: יורה דעה §367:2-4 and commentaries. [11] Gerlitz, p. 232 was the only work (of the 6 I consulted) to raise this issue (in a footnote). He resolves it by suggesting that the blessing was actually recited just outside the cemetery. Nonetheless, in the body of his work he writes unequivocally that: יש שנהגו לברך ברכה זו בבית הקברות.[12] So too Gerlitz, pp. 231-232.[13] See above, note 2. [14] For this emendation, see already R. Liepman Philip Prins (d. 1915), פרנס לדורות (Jerusalem, 1999), p. 292. [15] See Rachel Heuberger and Salomon Korn, The Synagogue at Frankfurt’s Börneplatz (Frankfurt, 1996). Figure 1, a photograph of the Börneplatz Synagogue taken in 1887, is drawn from p. 11 of this booklet. [16] Moreover, the Börneplatz Synagogue was outside the Jewish ghetto, whereas during the ghetto period (15th -19th centuries), all the synagogues in Frankfurt were inside the ghetto. [17] Pages 105-106.[18] Pages 160-161.[19] Figure 2 is a 19th century lithograph of the Judengasse (from the Leiman Library). Figure 3 is a photograph of the Judengasse from circa 1860 and is drawn from Georg Heuberger, Ludwig Börne – A Frankfurt Jew Who Fought For Freedom (Frankfurt, 1996), p. 9. Figure 4 is a photograph of the eastern side of the Judengasse, taken circa 1875 after much of the western side was demolished. The main Reform Synagogue, constructed in 1860 at the exact site where the main synagogue of the traditional community once stood, can be seen at the extreme left of the photograph (from the Leiman Library). [20] In general, see A. Freimann and F. Kracauer, Frankfort (Philadelphia, 1929). [21] See R. Mordechai Halberstadt, שו”ת מאמר מרדכי (Brünn, 1790), §56. [22] The map is drawn from Rachel Heuberger and Helga Krohn, Hinaus aus dem Ghetto: Juden in Frankfurt am Main 1800-1950 (Frankfurt, 1988), p. 13. [23] See R. Meir Posen, אור מאיר (London, 1973), p. 330 and table 86. [24] Johann Jacob Schudt, Jüdische Merkwürdigkeiten (Frankfurt, 1714), vol. 2, p. 218. [25] It is possible that in order to recite birkat ha-hammah together as a community specifically during the third hour, davening in Frankfurt on this day began at 7:00 A.M., rather than at 6:00 A.M. Thus, there would be no conflict between the reports of R. Hahn and R. Ha-Levi, both agreeing that the blessing was recited shortly after 8:00 A.M. Interestingly, a לוח published in Frankfurt in 1757 – a year in which birkat ha-hammah was recited – seems to state that the proper time for the recital of the blessing was between 8:00 and 10:00 A.M (if I am reading it correctly). I am indebted to Dan Rabinowitz for bringing the לוח to my attention. [26] Figure 6 is a portion of a map of Frankfurt from 1864. It is drawn from Heuberger and Krohn, op. cit., p. 93. At the upper left of the map is the Judengasse. One can see the newly constructed Reform Synagogue on the eastern side of the Judengasse.. The row-houses lead into the Judenmarkt, east of which is the old Jewish cemetery. Doubtless, it was in and around the Judenmarkt that the Jews gathered to recite birkat ha-hammah between the 15th and 19th centuries. [27] See סדר והנהגה של נשואין (Frankfurt, 1701), pp. 4-5, §4. Cf. יוסף אומץ (Frankfurt, 1928), p. 332.[28] Figure 7 (drawn from Heuberger and Krohn, op. cit., p. 49) depicts the Old Synagogue (on the Judengasse) of Frankfurt, after it was rebuilt in 1711 [and prior to its demolition in 1860] following a fire that destroyed almost all the dwellings in the Jewish ghetto. There appears to be ample space in the foreground for the communal recitation of birkat ha-hammah. [29] See Jewish Encyclopedia, vol. 5, p. 486.

[1] For this and other similar approbations see Nahum Rakover, Copyright in Jewish Sources (Israel 1991), 150-53 (Hebrew). Both Rakover's work as well as Benayahu's, see infra n3, break new ground on the issue of approbations.  The new edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica, however, does not use any of these sources.  In fact, the new version merely reprints the earlier article on haskma which appeared in the 1971 edition and is seriously lacking.  This is but another example of how the new version has significant gaps.  See Shnayer Z. Leiman's review of the new edition here and Shlomo Zalman Havlin's additional note on the topic here. [2] The translation of this and the next quote is taken from Christian D. Ginsburg, Introduction to the Massoretico Critical Edition of the Hebrew Bible (Ktav Press 1966), 935-36, 946.[3] In addition, Pratensis claims that this edition was unique as the prior editions "hav[e] almost as many errors as words in them" and that "no one has attempted [such an edition] before." Ginsburg in his discussion about this edition shows, however, that in fact previous editions were (close) to error free. Ginsburg bemoans the fact that "Felix Pratensis should have been betrayed to resort to such unfair expedients."  But, it is possible that Pratensis' claim regarding the novelty of the work was necessary in part due approbations.  Not Rabbinic approbations but the approbation of the Venetian Senate.  This is so, as in 1517 the Senate passed a law that would abolish all printing monopolies (copyrights) and hence forth would only grant monopolies for works which "are new or which have never been printed before."  Horatio Brown, The Venetian Printing Press (London 1891), 74. Indeed, Bomberg, the printer of this edition had appealed to the Senate for a monopoly when he began printing in 1515 and which the new law abolished. See Meir Benayahu, Copyright, Authorization & Imprimatour for Hebrew Books Printed in Venice (Israel 1971), 17 (Hebrew).  Thus, it is possible that Pratensis claim of novelty was to argue implicitly that this book qualified for a monopoly even under the new law as it was a "new" book.   [4] Y.Y. Greenwald, "The Descendants of the Rema and their Influence in Hungary," Sinai 28 (1951): 85-87 (Hebrew).  [5] Y.Y. Kohen, Hakmei Hungaria (Israel 1997), 342. 

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).