The Origin of the Alphabet: Part 1

We all swim in the alphabet like fish in water or birds in air, so it is hard to appreciate what an astounding communications technology it still is even after thousands of years of use. So imagine what this new flexible technology must have seemed like when humanity first discovered it around 1500 BCE.  The easy literacy the alphabet enabled must have been at least as powerful and transformative in its time as the printing press, the telephone, the atom bomb, or the computer. These inventions produced rapid, breathtaking transformations of culture, shifts in power and wealth, disruptions of society, and creation of new ways for humans to relate to the universe and to each other.

Continue reading “The Origin of the Alphabet: Part 1”

Siona the Former Telepath:

Language as apraxia and my granddaughter Siona

“No one sleeps in this room without
the dream of a common language.
 – Adrienne Rich, “The Origins and History of Consciousness”

My granddaughter Siona is 23 months old, God bless her. She is very communicative and expressive and highly intelligent (aren’t all granddaughters?). But she doesn’t speak much yet, at least in English. She has a few monosyllables: da, ma, pa, dee, koh, bay, ekk, choo, sniff with nose [flowers], cluck with tongue [horsey]. She has a couple dozen signs that are fairly conventional in baby sign language: rub tummy for hunger, squeeze hand for milk, put fists together for “more,” thump chest for “teddy,” slap sides for “dog”… Until she learned to articulate the word “yes” clearly and firmly this week, she had a funny way of nodding her head, tightening her whole chest and saying “Unnhh!” for affirmation. We all imitated it and laughed. Now she says, “Yes,” with a tiny trace of her former sign, and it’s disappearing fast.

Continue reading “Siona the Former Telepath:”

History & Metaphysics:

The Holy Tongue and the Decapitation of Israel

I believe understanding the historical context of the Talmud deepens its metaphysics.

The Torah imagines a scene worthy of a Hitchcock mystery.  A corpse is found between two cities. Who is responsible for it? It tells us, reasonably enough, that the closest city is responsible for it. That city has to perform a ritual to bring the cosmic scales back into balance, by breaking the neck of a calf and throwing it over a cliff.

The Talmud tells us that the pronouncement at the ritual is so solemn that it is one of only eight utterances that have to be said is the holy tongue, Hebrew. [1] The whole list [2] is surprising for what it doesn’t include: the Shema, for instance, or blessings over bread or Shabbat. So why this obscure and arcane ritual?

Talmud goes on to imagine increasingly farfetched scenarios: “What if the corpse is equidistant?” it asks.  In doing so, the eglah arufah becomes as mysterious and profound as its more famous cousin, that other slaughtered calf, the Parah Adumah, the Red Heifer. As it does, it hints at why the unclaimed corpse between cities is so vital its ritual must be pronounced in Hebrew.

The Mishnah says the Sanhedrin, the assembly of 71 judges in Jerusalem, has to come out to measure which city is closer. Then the elders of that city sacrifice an unblemished calf to rid the world of the unattributed evil. They take it  down to a stony ravine, and they break its neck with a hatchet, from behind. Then they declare over this eglah arufah, in Hebrew, they are not responsible for the death of the corpse, or more literally, “This blood is not on our hands,” obviously meaning the blood of the corpse, not the poor calf, which is now on their hands.

The Talmud imagines several scenarios that have increasing unreality:

What happens if two bodies are found exactly on top of each other? Is one body exempt because it is “floating” atop the other? Is the body underneath exempt because it is covered by the body on top? Are both exempt?

What if they are both exactly between the two cities?

What if a body is decapitated and the head and the body are in different places? Do we bring the head to the body, or vice versa?

Dexter or CSI Miami has nothing on the gruesomeness of the debate. The Talmud often considers improbable, even absurd scenarios.  A guy with a pole who rushes around a corner and breaks the jug carried by another guy who was rushing from the opposite direction. A dog brings a hot coal in his mouth to ignite a neighbor’s haystack. A goat jumps down from the roof and breaks someone’s utensils. But the empirical unreality of this whole discussion about two corpses found atop each other exactly equidistant from two cities, combined with the seriousness of the crime which presumably is behind it, suggests that there is something deeper at work here.

Gemara asks: If the corpse is decapitated, do we measure to the nearest town from the head or from the body? R. Akiva maintains you measure from the head, specifically the nose, because that is the source of neshama itself. R. Eliezer says measure from the body because the fetus forms from the navel outward – מטיבורו – mi’tiburoh. The Gemarah does not resolve the dispute, nor does Schottenstein, even after conferring with Rashi. Instead, the Mishnah itself concludes:

Rabbi Eliezer ben Yakov says, ‘They measure from the place that he becomes chalal, that is, from his neck.”

Think about that for a moment, and you realize, of course, that this is no resolution at all!

If a body is decapitated, where does the neck go? What is the neck? Anatomically, it may be the series of seven vertebrae C1-C7 connecting the head to the body, but conceptually it is the indeterminate boundary between head and body. When a body is severed at the neck, the neck as such disappears.

So specifying that measurement is to be taken from the neck of a decapitated body defers but doesn’t resolve the problem. The neck disappears into the same limbo or indeterminate space between as does the guilt of the murderer, which now threatens to taint both of the nearest cities. The necks of the calf and the corpse are not the only things that are broken.

Throughout the Talmud, there are several passages where the rabbis cannot reach a conclusion. And there are also  other passages when the conclusion is to invoke a chok or a commandment that defies rational explanation, a transcendent mystery we’re supposed to obey without understanding. Like the attempt to decipher the parah adumah, the sages here seem to let the physics of the matter dissipate into metaphysics. And yet, if we view this part of Sotah as having literary coherence, it reveals what the rabbis may have had in mind and helps us penetrate the mystery.

When the Mishnah calls out the ritual, it doesn’t say “the ritual to expiate the guilt of an unclaimed corpse,” which would be both more dramatic and make more sense, but eglah arufah, the calf that has its neck broken.

Second, the Gemara goes into careful detail about a corpse that is decapitated. A corpse has special status and its own name (“korbah”) if it is strangled by the neck and is different from a corpse slain by an instrument like a hatchet, in which case it is a “chalal.” (There’s a great one-liner in here. The Gemarah sees fit to tell us that, “If a corpse is still writhing [because it was insufficiently strangled] it is not yet a corpse.”)

Third, the Mishnah then details exactly how the neck of the calf is to be broken: it is to be decapitated with a cleaver to the back of its neck. In other words, the calf is like the imaginary corpse they were just so concerned with that has been killed at the neck.

Fourth, where is to this be performed? One would think that it would be precisely where the body was found, but rather the Mishnah prescribes it to be done in a desolated valley or a river, a wasteland, a no-man’s land. Further, Rashi explicitly says this must be land that has never been planted and is unsuitable for planting or working, and after the rite of eglah arufah is performed, the land is never again to be worked. The immediate symbolism is clear: just as the the unknown murderer, the real no-man, disappeared into the twilight zone, the expiation is directed there, too.  We recall, perhaps, the second of the Yom Kippur sacrifices, the scapegoat sent into the wilderness for our sins.

Eisan - desolate valley

There are may other mysteries worthy to be called out here. For instance, with the inevitable logic of rituals, the calf, too, must be one that has never been worked in yoke, invoking again, the neck … but I’ll skip over these to drive to what I believe is the heart of the matter. Why does the neck, forgive me, bear so much weight here?

The Lubavitcher Rebbe comments on “the neck.”  He calls it “the precarious joint” :

In the Torah, the neck is a common metaphor for the Holy Temple… The Sanctuaries are links between heaven and earth, points of contact between the Creator and His creation. … G-d, who transcends the finite, transcends the infinite as well, and He chose to designate a physical site and structure as the seat of His manifest presence in the world and the focal point of man’s service of his Creator….

The Sanctuary, then, is the “neck” of the world … the juncture that connects its body to its head. the neck that joins the head to the body and channels the flow of consciousness and vitality from the one to the other: the head leads the body via the neck. …

… The Sanctuary’s destruction, whether on the cosmic or the individual level, is the breakdown of the juncture between head and body — between Creator and creation, between soul and physical self. Indeed, the two are intertwined. When the Holy Temple stood in Jerusalem and openly served as the spiritual nerve center of the universe, this obviously enhanced the bond between body and soul in every individual….

from “The Neck” chabad.org/parshah/article_cdo/aid/3222/jewish/The-Neck.htm

The intensity of care taken by the rabbis to assign responsibility for unclaimed corpses, and presumably unsolved murders, to this or that town increases even more so in the Diaspora (the galus), when there is no Sanhedrin and no Temple in Jerusalem.  This impossible hypothetical, and the seriousness with which the Rabbis debate its halachah, seems to be as much about a lamentation of the Destruction of the Temple in 70 CE and the Jews’ exile to a dispiriting, liminal, desolate, precarious realm. We inhabit a “no-man’s land” where law and order has broken down and corpses are piling up, and bodies are stuck equidistant between cities so that there is no clear authority. We’re stranded between two Houses of Judgment, not just two cities, but two order of preserving the Jewish religion and two orders of being, the Temple with its ritual, and the Talmud, with its exegesis and elaboration. Assigning responsibility becomes impossible.

The end of Sotah depicts an apocalyptic scenario of the breakdown of all law and order, a recounting of the terrible things that occur when there are so many unsolved murders that the rite of eglah arufah has to be abandoned and there so many adulteresses that the ritual of Sotah ceases.

WHEN [THE SECOND] TEMPLE WAS DESTROYED, SCHOLAR  AND NOBLEMEN WERE ASHAMED AND COVERED THEIR HEAD,MEN OF DEED WERE DISREGARDED, AND MEN OF ARM AND MEN OF TONGUE GREW POWERFUL. NOBODY ENQUIRES, NOBODY PRAYS AND NOBODY ASKS.UPON WHOM IS IT FOR US TO RELY? UPON OUR FATHER WHO IS IN HEAVEN … THE COMMON PEOPLE BECAME MORE AND MORE DEBASED … IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE MESSIAH INSOLENCE WILL INCREASE AND HONOUR DWINDLE; … THE MEETING-PLACE [OF SCHOLARS] WILL BE BROTHELS… AND THE DWELLERS ON THE FRONTIER WILL GO ABOUT [BEGGING] FROM PLACE TO PLACE WITHOUT ANYONE TO TAKE PITY ON THEM; THE WISDOM OF THE LEARNED WILL DEGENERATE, FEARERS OF SIN WILL BE DESPISED, AND THE TRUTH WILL BE LACKING; … A MAN’S ENEMIES WILL BE THE MEMBERS OF HIS HOUSEHOLD; THE FACE OF THE GENERATION WILL BE LIKE THE FACE OF A DOG, A SON WILL NOT FEEL ASHAMED BEFORE HIS FATHER. SO UPON WHOM IS IT FOR US TO RELY?

Sotah 49a-b

This is just a small section of the Yeridas HaDoros, the Decline of the Generations, a work of vast Rabbinic imagination and mourning.

I believe the historical context for this apocalyptic vision doesn’t explain away but rather deepens the Talmud’s  metaphysical intensity. Knowing that this is a lamentation for the Temple helps us understand the entwinement of Hebrew as holy tongue with the Temple with the spiritual health of Israel. Speaking and reading Lashon HaKodesh is meant to recall that broken entwinement, to bridge over the fissures, to heal or prevent the ruptures at the core of functioning society itself by connecting the bloody and mundane, the hard valley of the wasteland, to the world to come, olam habah.

Israel is the calf whose neck has been broken. Israel is the floating corpse unclaimed between two cities. In a time of calamity and the breakdown of social order, even the ritual itself is to be abandoned, as is the ritual of sotah.

If we read Sotah correctly, we are being admonished that the only thing that will put our head on our shoulders, that will connect the soul to the body of Israel, is to preserve Hebrew, especially to be recited in these moments of rupture and decapitation.

 Palo Alto

Shavuos 5774

NOTES:

In honor of my classmates, Boris Feldman, Joseph Joffe, and Sam Tramiel, and my teacher Rabbi Yitzchak Feldman –

[1] Sotah 45

[2] The eight utterances that must be said in Hebrew are:

  1. THE DECLARATION MADE AT THE OFFERING OF THE FIRST FRUITS  during Shavuos
  2. THE FORMULA OF CHALIZAH [renunciation of a Levirite marriage] releasing a woman to be able to wed again if her husband dies and she is childless
  3. THE BLESSINGS AND CURSES to be pronounced from two mountaintops when the Jews cross the Jordan and were united with the land of Israel
  4. THE PRIESTLY BENEDICTION All the Kohanim are commanded to bless Israel on Yom Kippur
  5. THE BENEDICTION OF THE HIGH PRIEST on Yom Kippur, upon finishing reading of the Torah
  6. THE SECTION OF THE KING, The “HaKahal” (assembly): Every seven years the King assembles everyone in Courtyard and recites from Deuteronomy … “and One who hears it and doesn’t understand Hebrew must still stand in awe as if receiving Torah at Sinai.”
  7. THE SECTION OF THE CALF WHOSE NECK IS BROKEN when corpses are found between cities
  8. THE ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE BY THE PRIEST ANOINTED [TO ACCOMPANY THE ARMY] IN BATTLE.

“Towards the end of parsha Noah we read the story of the Tower of Babel. We are told: וַיְהִי כָל הָאָרֶץ שָׂפָה אֶחָת וּדְבָרִים אֲחָדִים, “The whole earth was of one language…”. (Gen 11,1) Rashi comments that the language was Hebrew.

Midrash Rabbah (Lev. 32,5) says that a virtue our ancestors had in Egypt and one of the causes for their redemption, was “they didn‘t change their tongue.”

In 1913, the “Language War” erupted in Palestine after word leaked out that the German Hilfsverein (Ezra) Organization was planning to make German the language of instruction in its Technion Institute in Haifa. A rebellion of students and teachers successfully imposed Hebrew as the language of instruction.

I think it was David Bar-Ilan, former editor of the Jerusalem Post who said about the miracle of Hebrew being resurrected as the living tongue of Israel, “King David would be more comfortable speaking Hebrew on the streets of Jerusalem than Shakespeare speaking English on the streets of London.”

 

 

 

Harvesting wild mushroooms

What's hidden has value
The underbelly of a wild mushroom.

Imagine a professor. Let’s call her S. She is retiring from her university after a distinguished 35 years. She has just come from the wine and cheese party in her honor at the department. On the way to the real after-party at a colleague’s house in the quainter section of town, she decides to make one last stop at her old office, telling herself she’d just check to see if she’s left anything behind.

S. slides the key into the lock and opens the door in one practiced, unconscious motion. As she surveys the empty office, she notices the light fade from the day through the dusty window overlooking the academic quad. But she’s beyond all wistfulness and sentiment now. She opens the drawer to her desk one last time, decides she won’t be embarrassed at leaving behind a few paper clips and stray pennies, closes the drawer, stands up resolutely, and for the last time, leaves her office.

As she leaves, though, another kind of regret steals over her. What has S. left behind besides the paper clips, stray pennies, and the fading light in her office? The unwritten papers. The research that couldn’t be conducted because the grant never came through. The thousands of classes, meetings with students hopeful or tearful, hours in committees, millions of papers graded, books that lined the shelves, the drafts of journal articles written and manuscripts reviewed, a gazillion memos – and then since the 1980s emails – answered or ignored: all the detritus of a long life in academia.

PERSONAL KNOWLEDGE

Now think of the non-obvious stuff that’s been left behind: the things she’s learned but never got to say. The accumulated wisdom, some of it never expressed or captured for posterity. The personal knowledge she just is carrying with her out the door, the stuff that’s not quite institutional not quite academic that didn’t quite fit into the discipline or the profession and for which there was no real outlet, both the gold and the dust: How to pause at just the right moment during a lecture about mushrooms edible, inedible, and … hallucinogenic. How to handle the tenured colleague who never grew up. How to get student teams to work together. How to persuade a colleague to join you on a grant proposal. How to give a troubled student a break without breaking the rules. How to influence a committee without taking charge. How to conduct an interview for a job candidate. How to deal with the discouragement of waiting two years for a paper to be published.

 

Wild mushrooms

More hidden treasures from wild mushrooms

WILD KNOWLEDGE

And then there’s all that other wild stuff for which there aren’t even categories because it’s all crossover wisdom and quasi-conscious influence between different continents of her inner world: How her professional research in genetics informed her choice to volunteer leading teen tours of nature. How raising her children gave her tools to deal with difficult colleagues and eventually, serve as Chair (for those horrible and glorious five years!). How what she knows about preserving species genetics could be a multi-million dollar business, if only she could find the time and the folks with business savvy to make it happen. How much of her field knowledge of botany is not worthy of publication but is worthy of dissemination beyond a small circle of grad students. The network of friends and former students and colleagues that crop up with increasing frequency in those small world events, where they’re least expected, and her fantasy of connecting them together. What she learned working with troubled teens about the healing power of focusing on the small intricate things in nature during a walk in the woods in the rain. Ah, the desire she has just to express that stuff that falls between the cracks and outside the boxes.

Where does that universe of things worth knowing go when S retires? What happens to its value? What can a large university, or any institution for that matter, do to preserve this most precious resource, this PK?

And this is not just a challenge – and an opportunity – for universities. I know from working in the corporate world, even a fairly open and enlightened company, how damnably difficult it is to express the stuff that your boss isn’t ready to hear and that isn’t in your job description and for which there are no journals or classes or room in the workday. The cliche about not thinking out of the box is not just true, when you find you’re unable to even express it, it’s a form of pain.

A cover piece in the magazine INC. (May 2007) highlighted the problem: Find It. Use It. It’s a good bet your company possesses intellectual property it isn’t exploiting.” The article goes on to discuss the intellectual property left on the table (or behind the closed door or in the drawer or in your silent preserve behind your eyes) by many corporations and strategies to find those hidden assets. In the corporate world, as for all enterprises, it begins with a definition of what is valuable.

“Baruch Lev, a professor of accounting and finance at New York University’s Stern School of Business, who once calculated that approximately 85 percent of a company’s value resides in such intangibles. Unfortunately, many of those assets go unexploited because they are hard to inventory, manage, or even recognize. ‘What drives me nuts personally and professionally is to think about all that good stuff being wasted,’ says Sherman [an IP lawyer featured in the article], shaking his shaggy head. ‘All that innovation. All that intellectual capital. It’s just sitting there collecting strategic dust.’ ”

– “Find It. Use It.” Leigh Buchanan, INC 5/1/2007

Gills of the mushroom

What’s the solution? Well, to start I’d suggest two things:

Recognition: A broader definition of – and recognition for – what is valuable from within the institution and for the people who have the blooming in their heads, potential to be harvested. Beyond the syllabi and disciplines and journals there’s personal and wild knowledge that never gets expressed or recognized… wild mushrooms.

The Means: The tools to extract and entice the people in our institutions to express what they know, to share and broadcast it simply and without too many restrictions. A platform that gives people an invitation, the permission, and the simple but robust means to show all that they know, whatever they know, and find their audience.

Obviously, the Web, and especially Web 2.0 has shown us the pent-up world-wide desire for self-expression is there, and it has shown us some of the tools. Wikipedia and YouTube and Facebook suggest people are content to have their stuff projected in a public space even if it whizzes by anonymously, like elaborate graffiti on a NYC train. Whoah! I’m famous! Oh, I’m not.

Why not unleash these Web 2.0 lessons and technologies in the academic space to both treasure – and uncover the buried treasure – of wild personal knowledge that we leave behind like spare change in the folds of a couch or the hidden but wondrous underbellies of wild mushrooms?

We would all benefit from the harvest, providers and seekers alike.