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Showing posts with the label Alter (Robert)

Spring cleaning; Mother’s Day; May’s poem

A desperate house-cleaning, this afternoon, to the detriment of my sinuses. We wished to make the house agreeable for Karin’s mom. We had invited her over for a Mother’s Day supper.

The event was a success.

After Karin’s mom left us, we let Samuel play with marbles in the living room, and I took Daniel to the basement so he wouldn’t put them into his mouth. When the time came to bring Daniel back upstairs, Samuel didn’t want to put his marbles away, and in the ensuing fracas they were spilled under various pieces of furniture. We put one howling child into one room and the other howling child into another room. We moved the dusty furniture around to hunt for the marbles – again, to the detriment of my sinuses.

I don’t recall having ever taken medicine for allergies. This might be a good year to start.

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The first paragraph of A Pocket Full of Rye:
It was Miss Somers’ turn to make the tea. Miss Somers was the newest and the most inefficient of the typists. She was no longer young and had a mild worried face like a sheep. The kettle was not quite boiling when Miss Somers poured the water onto the tea, but poor Miss Somers was never quite sure when a kettle was boiling. It was one of the many worries that afflicted her in life.
I see that in 2014 I gave this novel a “C” grade. Admittedly, I didn’t remember it well. When I previously read it, I was fourteen.

On the strength of this opening paragraph, the novel is shaping up to be worthy of at least a “B-plus.”

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For Mother’s Day, lines from the first half of Proverbs 31. Two versions.

I

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
These are the words of King Lemuel. This is the message his mother taught him:

“My son, I gave birth to you.
You are the son I prayed for.
Don’t waste your strength on women.
Don’t waste your time on those who ruin kings.

“Kings should not drink wine, Lemuel.
Rulers should not desire beer.
If they drink, they might forget the law.
They might keep the needy from getting their rights.
Give beer to people who are dying.
And give wine to those who are sad.
Let them drink and forget their need.
Then they won’t remember their misery anymore.

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves.
Defend the rights of all those who have nothing.
Speak up and judge fairly.
Defend the rights of the poor and needy.”
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

(International Children’s Bible)

II

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The words of Lemuel, King of Massa, with which his mother reproved him:

No, my son. Oh, no, son of my womb,
Oh, no, son of my vows.
Do not give your vigor to women,
Nor your ways to destroyers of kings.
Not for kings, Lemuel, not for kings,
the drinking of wine, nor, for rulers, hard drink.
Lest he drink and forget inscribed law,
and reverse the judgment of all wretched men.
Give hard drink to the perishing man
and wine to those deeply embittered.
Let him drink and forget his privation,
and his misery let him no more recall.
Open your mouth for the dumb,
For the judgment of all fleeting folk.
Open your mouth, judge righteously,
grant justice to the poor and the wretched.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

(Robert Alter)

“Seed”

Here is Robert Alter, introducing The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary.
When … God reiterates his promise to Abraham, the multiplication of seed is strongly linked with cosmic imagery – harking back to the creation story – of heaven and earth: “I will greatly bless you and greatly multiply your seed, as the stars in the heavens and as the sand on the shore of the sea” (Genesis 22:17). If “seed” here is rendered as “offspring” or “descendants,”
– as in recent translations (but not the King James Version) –
what we get are two essentially mathematical similes of numerical increase. That is, in fact, the primary burden of the language God addresses to Abraham, but as figurative language it also imposes itself visually on the retina of the imagination, and so underlying the idea of a single late-born son whose progeny will be countless millions is an image of human seed (perhaps reinforced by the shared white color of semen and stars) scattered across the vast expanses of the starry skies and through the innumerable particles of sand on the shore of the sea. To substitute “offspring” for “seed” here may not fundamentally alter the meaning but it diminishes the vividness of the statement, making it just a little harder for readers to sense why these ancient texts have been so compelling down through the ages.

June’s poem

The previous entry’s revisions are more substantial than is usually the case. You may wish to read that entry again.

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⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Psalm 131

A song of ascents for David.
LORD, my heart has not been haughty,
nor have my eyes looked too high,
nor have I striven for great things,
nor for things too wondrous for me.

But I have calmed and contented myself
like a weaned babe on its mother –
like a weaned babe I am with myself.
Wait, O Israel, for the LORD,
now and forevermore.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

(Translated by Robert Alter)