THE GENERATIVE ROLE OF SCRIPT

Up to this point I have focused primarily on the cosmological and ideological contexts that inform the interpretation of signs in the ancient Near East. I have underscored the illo­cutionary power of words and the cosmic dimension of writing, and I have suggested that we see the interpretation of divine signs as a performative ritual.

Since interpreting divine signs is a semiotic process, it is worthwhile considering how writing systems inform this process. In Mesopotamia, the divination of omens and the process of writing were conceptually linked, even though the Akkadian words for “omenological sign” (i.e., ittu) and “cuneiform sign” (i.e., mihistu) were not the same. The conceptual overlap likely derives from the pictographic origins and associations of cuneiform signs (Bottero 1974). Bendt Alster’s comment on the associative nature of the script is apposite: “Cuneiform writing from its very origin provided the scribes with orthographical conventions that lent notions to the texts which had no basis in spoken language” (Alster 1992: 25).

The dialectic between ominous signs and linguistic signs was so close in Mesopotamia that some extispicy omens were interpreted based on a similarity in shape between features of the exta and various cuneiform signs (Noegel 2007).²¹

a. When the lobe is like the grapheme (named) PAB (ki-mapa-ap-pi-im), (then)

the god wants an ugbabtum-priestess (YOS 10 17:47).²²

b. When (the) lobe is like the grapheme (named) kaskas, (then) Adad will in­undate (with rain) (YOS 10 17:48).²³

c. When (the) lobe is like a particular grapheme [here we have the grapheme itself (i.e., kaskas), not its name], then the king will kill his favorites in order to allocate their goods to the temples of the gods (YOS 10 8-9).²⁴

Also demonstrating a close relationship between divine signs and cuneiform signs are a number of omens that suggest that diviners either wrote down the omen in order to interpret it or at least conceived of it in written form.

If a man dreams that he is traveling to Idran (id-ra-an); he will free himself from a

crime (A-ra-an).²⁵

— K. 2582 rev. ii, x + 21

This omen exploits the cuneiform sign id for its multiple values (in this case as A), which en­ables the interpreter to read it as an altogether different word. The apodosis illustrates erudition and the importance of understanding the polyvalent values of individual signs. It is reminiscent of the interpretive strategy that appears in Mesopotamian mythological commentaries by which scholars obtain divine mysteries (Lieberman 1978; Tigay 1983; Livingstone 1986). In fact, many omen texts reveal knowledge of a vast array of lexical and literary traditions.²⁶

An even more sophisticated example of polyvalent reading appears in the following dream omen.

If he seizes a fox (KA₅.A = selibu); he will seize a Lamassu (AN.KAL), but if he seizes a fox in his hand (SU), and it escapes; he will have seized a Lamassu, but it also will escape from his hand (SU)²⁷

— Sm. 801 rev. iii, x + 10

Though the protasis records the image of a fox, written with the Sumerogram KA₅.A (= Akkadian selibu), its interpretation derives from understanding the Akkadian counterpart selibu as if it were written syllabically. When written as se--lib-bu the same signs can be read as (A).AN.KAL-u, that is, “Lamassu.”^{28 *} Moreover, though the Sumerogram SU here stands for the Akkadian word qatu “hand,” one lexical list gives us the equation ^dLAMMA = ^dSU.²⁹ Like the previous example, this omen’s interpretation derives from the divine sign conceived of in written form.

Though unrelated to cuneiform, hieroglyphic Egyptian also began and continued as a pictographic system. The connection between the name of an object and its pictographic form similarly led to a conception of texts as images, but also images as texts.

As in Mesopotamia, some Egyptian omens derive their interpretations solely from their written forms as in the following dream omen.

... hr miij⁽h wbn\f; nfr htp n\f jn ntr\f

... seeing the moon when it is risen; good, (it means) being clement to him by his god.³⁰

— Papyrus Chester Beatty III recto 5.22

Of note is the determinative of the falcon-god Horus [, which occurs after the word wbn “risen” in the protasis. This is not the usual determinative for this word (which is ( ).

Nevertheless, it provides the interpreter with a reason for interpreting the omen as the sign of a “god” (ntr). Like the Akkadian examples, this interpretation derives from the omen’s written form.

SCOTTB. NOEGEL

Another example appears on the same scroll.

... hrfij-ti.w m hd; dw, ⁽nhpw nj shh

... sailing downstream; bad, (it means) a life of running backward.^[81]

— Papyrus Chester Beatty III recto 8.3

This omen employs the words for “sailing” (fiy-ti.w, lit., “carrying the wind), which is the usual way of writing “upstream” since the wind flows north to south in Egypt. Yet the omen also employs the term hd with the boat and oars determinative, which only can mean flowing downstream from south to north. In this way the omen offers contradictory directions in its hieroglyphic signs and suggests the use of sails to go downstream. For this reason the omen is interpreted as going backward, a reading that is given further visual support by the determinative of backward-facing legs following the word for “running” (shh

These Mesopotamian and Egyptian examples demonstrate the centrality of writing and the generative role of script in the interpretive process.

Viewed from this perspective, the Israelites appear as something of an anomaly, for the Bible’s Ten Commandments specifically prohibit the creation of images,^[82] but demand the transmission of divine knowledge by way of the written and spoken word. While the legal code rejects all forms of “magical” praxis and divination (e.g., Deuteronomy 18:10-14), the very presence of laws prohibiting such practices, and references to speech and words found elsewhere in the Bible, as I have shown above, imply a belief in the power of words on par with Mesopotamian and Egyptian dogmata. Moreover, while the Hebrew word for a “written mark” BIN (°ot) also means “sign, portent,”^[83] the Bible connects the two semantic ranges only in reference to oneiromancy. Thus, Deuteronomy 13:2-6 states that the Israelites perceived dream interpreters as providing IN BIN (°ot ow mofet) “a sign or portent.” Unlike the Mesopotamians and Egyptians, therefore, the Israelites appear to have reserved

(td°dh) “leave a mark” used in conjunction with the letter B (tdw) in Ezekiel 9:4-6 (spelled out as IB, i.e., tdw). See also Job 31:35 where the word IB means “written document” or “signature.” The connection of the Hebrew word BIN (°ot) to writing finds support also in the cognate data. In Babylonian Aramaic, NBN (°dtd°)is used for a consonantal letter. See Sokoloff 2002: 175, s.v. NBN. The related form NBT> yutd° means “constellation” (see Sokoloff 2002: 532, s.v. NBT>, and compare the Akkadian sitir same “writing of heaven”). The Syriac cognate °dtuw also occurs for “sign,” “alphabetic letter,” and “constellation.” See Smith 1903: 32, s.v.

the performative power of the written word for divination by dreams and for texts perceived as authored by Yahweh (see Noegel 2007: 113-82).³⁴

I believe that this distinction can be explained, at least in part, by acknowledging the gen­erative role of scripts in shaping Near Eastern conceptions of the divine sign. The Israelites used a consonantal script. Though the Hebrew script evolved from pictographic signs, by the time of the Israelites it had lost its pictographic associations. Consequently, its associative di­mension was limited largely to sound devices like paronomasia and polysemous homonyms.

See, for example, a vision of the prophet Amos in which Yahweh shows Amos a basket of “summer fruits” (^’p, qayis), objects that are interpreted as signaling the “end” (^p, qes) of Israel (Amos 8:1-2).³⁵

Similarly, in the book of Jeremiah Yahweh shows the prophet an “almond branch” (7pW, saqed), which is decoded as meaning that Yahweh will “watch” (7pW, soqed) to ensure that his word is fulfilled (Jeremiah 1:11-12). Like the vision of Amos, the interpretation exploits the phonetic similarity of these homonyms (Noegel 2007: 265).³⁶

The examples from Amos and Jeremiah do not entirely rule out the notion that divine signs were written down or conceived of in writing before interpreting them, because homonyms also operate on a visual level. Nevertheless, they do appear to place a greater emphasis on orality in the interpretive process.³⁷

Moreover, unlike the Egyptian conception of creation, which permits a role for writing (Frankfurter 1994), the book of Genesis reports creation as solely an oral work, though later Jewish tradition recalls the role of the alphabet in the creative process (Babylonian Talmud Menahot 20b; Midrash Rabbah 1:10). It therefore seems likely that in the same way that pictographic scripts played formative roles in Mesopotamian and Egyptian conceptions of the divine sign, the non-pictographic script played a role in shaping the Israelite conception.

The Hebrew Bible’s preference for referencing oral as opposed to written modes of per­formative power also might represent a conceptual shift with regard to the perceived locus of this power. In Mesopotamia and Egypt, performative power was centered in the divine sign and script, and was activated by the professional during the processes of speaking, writing, and decoding. Israel inclined toward oral modes of performative power, which naturally centered the locus of power more firmly on the speaker. Consequently, an Israelite could embody the same performative power that a cuneiform or hieroglyphic sign could in Mesopotamia and

Egypt. This explains why Isaiah could refer to himself and his children as ? ’n^Wb'l TIN?, le°ot ul-moftim “signs and portents” (Isaiah 8:18),^{38 *} and Ezekiel could be called a TIN °ot “sign” while personifying the siege of Israel (Ezekiel 4:3).³⁹