Here’s my final post on Tractate Shabbat 140b. The Schottenstein translation, which follows, is based on Rashi’s commentary. They put the Talmud’s actual words in bold, and their additions that make the text understandable in regular font. “When in the course of cohabitation [the husbands] will hold your pearl in one and the kiln in one hand. You, however, should offer them the pearl, but the kiln you should not offer them until they are tormented, and only then should you offer it to them.”
Here is how Rashi explains it. “When your husband caresses you to arouse your desire for intercourse and holds the breasts with one hand and “that place” with the other give the breasts [at first] to increase his passion and do not give him the place of intercourse too soon until his passion increases and he is in pain with desire.” [Rashi to Shabbat 140b].
As you can see, I used his words pretty much verbatim when I wrote this scene in the first volume of “Rashi’s Daughters,” where he is studying Tractate Shabbat with them prior to Joheved’s wedding.
“Joheved,” he pointed out the text to her, “the next passage is rather important for a new bride, why don’t you read it?”
“Your husband will hold a pearl in one hand and a kora in one hand.” Joheved stumbled over the Aramaic word, kora. She had no idea what it meant, but she continued to read. The previous verses had been easy to understand, perhaps the next one would clarify things.
“You should give him the pearl, but the kora you should not give until you both are tormented, and only then should you give it to him.” Though she understood what every word except kora meant, the text was incomprehensible. She looked at Miriam, who shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
Salomon knew this passage referred to a delicate subject, and he had thought carefully about how he would explain it before finally deciding that frankness was best. “Rav Hisda is using very tactful language to instruct his daughters about the role they will have in marital relations. When he says ‘pearl’ he means breast, and when he says ‘kora,’ which is best translated as ‘forge,’ he means the womb.”
Salomon might as well be discussing any unremarkable Talmud passage.
“You are no longer children, so I will not use euphemisms.” He cleared his throat and said very quickly, “When your husband caresses you to arouse the desire for relations, and he holds your breasts with one hand and your womb with the other, give him your breasts first to increase his passion, but do not allow him the place of intercourse too soon, until his passion increases and he is in pain with desire.”
Both girls’ faces were flaming, but their father ignored their embarrassment and calmly asked if they had any questions. Miriam was speechless, but Joheved, equally disconcerted, felt she had to query him at least once to show she’d grasped the material.
She forced herself to speak seriously. “Papa, why does Rav Hisda call the womb a forge?” A pearl did make a suitable symbol for the breast.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. He had never taught this text to any of his yeshiva students, they were too young. And he had only studied it once himself, just before he married Rivka. “Perhaps it is because, just as a forge refines precious metals, the womb refines the man’s seed into a child.”
Frankly I can imagine why a woman’s ‘place of intercourse’ might be compared to a kora if it’s translated as a kiln or forge, places known for their high heat. Goes to show that ‘hot’ has been associated with sex at least since Rashi’s time.
Steinsaltz's translation of the passage in Shabbat 140b disregards Rashi’s interpretation. "He held a pearl in one hand and a clump of dirt in the other hand. The pearl he showed them, but the clump of dirt he did not show them until they became upset, and then he showed it to them."
Steinsaltz adds that Rav Hisda did this in order to show his daughters the virtues of modesty, to teach them that a hidden thing is more attractive than a visible thing even if it is less valuable. Interestingly, he translates 'kura/kora' as 'clump of dirt' and not as 'charcoal' [what the Rishonim say]. Since Rashi is still 800 years in the future, I did not use his commentary for “Rav Hisda’s Daughter,” and wrote the scene more in keeping with Steinsaltz:
“A woman should always be modest before her husband, keeping parts of her body hidden,” he [Rav Hisda] said. “So he will not become too familiar with her and take her for granted.”
He reached into his purse and pulled out a large pearl in his right hand. “Here is an example to explain what I mean.”
Achti and I [Hisdadukh] crowded close to see it. “It’s beautiful,” she said, while I merely sighed with delight.
Then he put his left hand into his purse, but kept his fist clenched when he removed it.
“What do you have there, Father?” Achti asked eagerly. “Is it another pearl?”
Father smiled and kept his hand closed. “Maybe it’s a different jewel?” I said, wondering if it was a ruby or a sapphire. “Won’t you let us see it?”
He waited until we were begging to see the treasure in his hand. Then abruptly he acquiesced, but on his open palm sat a lump of charcoal.
As we gave voice to our disappointment and irritation, Father chuckled. “In your eagerness to see what I had hidden, though it was merely an ugly piece of burnt wood, you ignored the beautiful pearl that was sitting right in plain sight.”
“Oh.” Achti’s eyes open wide as she nodded.
I too understood his lesson. “A husband may come to disregard even the most beautiful wife if she is always on display,” I said.
“And he may come to covet another woman, even an ugly one, who hides herself from him,” Achti continued.
“Exactly,” Father said. “Now you must learn how much to conceal or reveal, and when, so your husband will desire you and only you.”
A whole lot of family stuff has kept me away from my blog this week, but when I realized that today’s Daf Yomi was Shabbat 140, I knew I had to write about it, since it is probably the most famous, or infamous, piece of Talmud that involves Rav Hisda and his daughters. I actually used two versions of this passage in my novels: the literal translation in “Rav Hisda’s Daughter” on page 74, and a translation based on Rashi’s Commentary in “Rashi’s Daughters: Book 1 – Joheved” on pages 214-215. You will see that the two interpretations differ considerably.
Here is a rather literal translation of the passage in question, from Shabbat 140b, where Rav Hisda advises his daughters how to act with their husbands. “He holds a pearl in one hand and a ‘kora/kura’ in the other; the pearl show but the ‘kora/kura’ not show until suffering, and then show it.”
As is typical in Talmud, words are missing so that it is not clear who is holding the pearl and kora, Rav Hisda or the husband. It is also uncertain who shows it, Rav Hisda or his daughter, and who is suffering, the daughter or her husband. To complicate matters further, we don’t know exactly what ‘kora/kura’ means, only that it seems to have something to do with a kiln.
The Soncino translation is as follows: “He [R. Hisda] held a jewel in one hand and a [valueless] seed grain in the other; the pearl he showed them but the seed grain he did not show them until they were suffering [with curiosity to see what he was holding], and then he showed it to them.”
My next post will show how I used this passage as the basis of a scene in “Rav Hisda’s Daughter” and the following post will show how I used it in “Rashi’s Daughters: Joheved.”
Happy Birthday to me; yes I was born on February 11. One of the things I am celebrating is a lovely interview that Renee Ghert-Zand did with me that came out in last weekend’s J.Weekly in advance of my scholar-in-residence weekend at Congregation Beth Sholom in San Francisco.
To whet your appetite to read the entire article, here is how it starts: “Did you know that the Talmud names more demons than women? This is the kind of fascinating and arcane information that author Maggie Anton learned while conducting research for her latest novel, “Rav Hisda’s Daughter,” in which she imagines the life of the unnamed woman mentioned most frequently in the central text of rabbinic Judaism.”
Better late than never, but I just realized that I haven’t posted my upcoming Bay Area book tour yet and it starts tomorrow night. To begin with, I will be Scholar-in-residence at Congregation Beth Sholom, 301 14th Ave, San Francisco, CA 94118 from February 8-10. For a complete schedule of my talks and subject matter, see the shul’s calendar . I want to thank Henry Hollander for arranging all this, and since his business is selling Jewish books, many of you may be interested in a link to his store.
Another sponsor of my trip is Lehrhaus Judaica and to give those in the East Bay a chance to hear me, I’ll be speaking Sunday afternoon, Feb 10m at 1:30 pm in Berkeley. The location is Congregation Beth El, 1301 Oxford St, Berkeley, CA 94709. Following that, I’ll be speaking at an afternoon with Bnai Shalom’s Sisterhood at 4:30 pm at 2264 Hidden Pond Lane, Lafayette, CA 94549.
Another case of better late than never, “Lilith Magazine” reviewed RAV HISDA’S DAUGHTER is their Fall issue, but because they were revamping their website, it didn’t get posted until this week. It’s quite a fabulous review, if I do say so myself, and here is the Lilith Magazine link for those who want to read it.
I know Hanukah and Thanksgiving are not likely on anyone’s mind these days, but I just learned an interesting piece of trivia about the two holidays. This year, 2013, will be the one time in eternity that Hanukkah and Thanksgiving overlap: on November 28, 2013. It has never happened before and will never happen again. Why, you ask?
Thanksgiving is inexorably set as the fourth Thursday in November. Thus the latest any Thanksgiving can happen is on November 28th. Coincidentally, the earliest Hanukah can occur is also November 28th. The Jewish calendar repeats on a 19 year cycle and Thanksgiving on a 7 year cycle. You would therefore expect them to coincide roughly every 133 years (19x7). However, this is only approximately correct. The last time it could have happened was in 1861, but Thanksgiving was not established until 1893. So it has never happened before.
Why won't happen again [this is a little more complicated]? Because the Jewish calendar is very slowly getting out of sync with the solar calendar, at a rate of 4 days per 1000 years (not bad for such an ancient calendar). So while Hanukkah can be as early as November 28th now, over the years the holidays will drift later and later. The next time Hanukkah falls on November 28th is in the year 2146, which is a Monday, and after that the earliest Hanukkah can fall will be November 29th, which is too late for Thanksgiving.
Therefore, 2013 is the only time Hanukkah will ever be the same day as Thanksgiving. For an explanation with graphics, see this link .