We just dealt with some words for crops of debated identity - here's another one, but with a Purim connection. Early in this site, we discussed the Purim food hamentaschen, which literally mean "poppy pockets". The Hebrew word for poppy is pereg (sometimes parag) פרג. It is found in the plural - פרגין - in the Mishna (Sheviit 2:7, Chalah 1:4) and in the Talmud (Rosh Hashana 13b), listed together with other crops that aren't full grains like shumshum1 שומשום - sesame and orez אורז - rice.
Most of the commentaries do identify pereg with poppy. For example, the Aruch defines it as the Latin papaver, and Rashi on Rosh Hashana uses the Italian word maco, whose cognates are found in a number of European languages. The Rambam on Sheviit translates pereg as khashkhash - the Arabic word for poppy. Many of the later European rabbinic works use the German (and Yiddish) word mohn.
However, some more modern scholars disagree with this assumption, and say it is a type of millet. Ben Yehuda quotes Hrozny (found here in the original German) as saying that pereg derives from the Sanskrit word priyangu, meaning "foxtail millet" (or "panic seed".) Feliks has two more reasons to choose sorghum millet over poppy: pereg is mentioned in the mishna as a summer crop, and is used to make bread, both of which fit millet much more than poppy. And he also quotes Rabbi Natan Av Hayeshiva (one of the Eretz Yisrael Geonim, whose text was found in the Cairo Geniza) who identified pereg as dura דורה - sorghum, described here as a "summer crop of millet."
The above arguments seem pretty convincing to me, but it doesn't take away the Purim connection to poppy. Luckily the name hamentashcen was never Hebraicized to kiseipereg...
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1. However some European Jewish scholars did identify shumshum as poppy. See Responsa Melamed Le-Ho'il 1:87, Encyclopedia Talmudit "chametz" footnote 709, and Jastrow on שומשמא.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
pereg
Sunday, February 07, 2010
shibolet shual and shifon
One of my favorite topics to write about is the change of meaning in words relating to food. We've already seen that a melafefon originally meant melon, now cucumber, and that botnim, while in modern Hebrew mean peanuts, meant pistachios in the Bible. However, these discussions, while interesting, don't have much practical impact. On the other hand, some debates have real halachic significance.
For example, in to Jewish law, there are five species of grain in the Land of Israel that have special laws relating to them - what blessing is made, can they be used to make matza (or do they constitute chametz), must one "separate challah" with bread made from them, and more. As described in the Mishna (Hallah 1:1), the five grains are:
החיטים, והשעורים, והכוסמין, ושיבולת שועל והשיפון
chitim, seorim, kusmin, shibolet shual, shifonChitim are wheat and seorim are barley. We'll discuss kusmin in a future post, but now I'd like to deal with shibolet shual and shifon (or shipon, more on that in a bit.) In modern Hebrew, shibolet shual means "oats" (although "kvaker" is the common term), and shifon means "rye". This goes as far back as Rashi, who identifies them as such in his commentary (Pesachim 35a). However, many modern scholars disagree with this approach, such as Immanuel Low, who writes that shibolet shual is millet, and shifon is oats (both Jastrow and Ben Yehuda mention this approach), and more recently Yehuda Feliks, who says that shibolet shual is "two-rowed barley" (compared to the four and six rowed barley for seorim) and shifon is spelt (which in modern Hebrew is kusmin). Feliks gives a number of reasons for his conclusions - primary among them is that oats and rye were not commonly grown in the Land of Israel at the time of the mishna (this post does a good job of summarizing his arguments and those that disagree with him, on the identity of shibolet shu'al).
Most of the proofs are based on biological or historical evidence - but I did find one etymological aspect: while many claim that the name "shibolet shual" comes the spike, shibolet, of plant looking like the tail of a fox, shual, (and we find the phrase "foxtail" with a similar meaning in English), Feliks believes that the name comes from the fact that foxes like eating the softer two-rowed barley more than other grains, in the same way that invei shual ענבי שועל - "blackcurrants" (literally "fox grapes") are so called because foxes enjoy eating them.
While the etymology might not help us understand the identity of shifon, it should help with the pronunciation. Looking at vocalized editions of the Mishna and Talmud, I see that they are pretty much split down the middle: Steinsaltz and Artscroll have shipon (or shippon in the English translation), whereas Kehati and Jastrow have shifon. Ben Yehuda writes that the correct pronunciation is shifon, because the word comes from Greek - siphonion, which seems to be related to the word siphon, meaning "tube, pipe", perhaps related to the shape of the plant. (Klein, following Ben-Yehuda writes that, "The attempt of [Immanuel] Low to derive shifon from שוף [= to polish] is far-fetched.) I've found references to siphonion both as oats (avena) and rye (secale), so I don't think this helps us identify the original plant.
However, Ben Yehuda goes on to complain that the popular pronunciation is shipon, and this is confirmed by Even Shoshan as well. The Hebrew Wikipedia article for שיפון says that it is pronounced shipon to distinguish it from the fabric "chiffon". However, from an (admittedly unscientific) poll I took of native Hebrew speakers - all of them pronounced the word shifon, and none had ever heard it pronounced shipon. While it is possible that a linguistic correction has taken place, I can't help wonder if they were all influenced by the popular bakery Shifon...
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
parnasa
Yesterday I was discussing the word parnasa פרנסה on the new Balashon Page on Facebook (please join!). I quoted my post on "pras and prize", where I wrote:
A reader wrote:
The Hebrew root פרס means "to split, divide, break", and a pras therefore originally meant "a half of something", "a portion". Klein points out that there are scholars who derive the word פרנס - -"to maintain, support" and parnasa פרנסה - "livelihood" as coming from פרס, with an added letter nun.
You think "parnasa" comes from "pras"? It seems rather doubtful. There are no other words in Hebrew derived in this manner. The other way around, maybe, if both words were borrowed from another language.I have to admit that I can't think now of any other Hebrew words where the letter nun was added to make a four letter word (resh, however, often is added). But it is what Klein claims. Let's look at what he wrote on the entry for the verb פרנס:
Aramaic פרנס ( = he maintained, sustained, supported), Syriac פרנס (= he cared for, provided; he appointed, distributed,; he took the oversight, managed, ruled). Of uncertain origin. Some scholars derive base פרנס from base פרס.He then offers the derivatives parnas פרנס - "supporter, manager" (from where Arabic gets firnas - "governor", maybe the origin of the name Abbas Ibn Firnas, for whom the lunar crater was named) and parnasa פרנסה - "livelihood".
It is interesting that Klein only provides one possible etymology. He certainly saw Ben Yehuda's entry, who mentions the "pras" theory, as suggested by Hoffman and Brockelmann, based on the Syriac cognate (although this book quotes Brockelmann as giving it a Greek origin). But then Ben Yehuda says that etymology doesn't seem likely to him. He then says it seems to him more likely that this four letter root derives from Greek or Latin, particularly due to samech being the last letter (as in such words as טכס tekes).
From Greek he suggests pronoos - "careful". As mentioned here, related words are offered by the Musaf HaAruch: πρόνηος - proneos and πρόνοιος - pronoios, and by the Aruch HaShalem:
πύρνος - purnos (however the Aruch Hashalem rejects the Greek origin, and prefers the Syriac theory.) These words all appear to be related to the Greek pronoeo "to consider in advance, look out for beforehand, plan before", associated with the Greek words for "provide" and "providence". It is made up of two Greek words, "pro" (before) and "noeo" (think, perceive). From here we get the term pronoia - the system of land grants in the Byzantine Empire.
An alternate theory offered by Ben Yehuda is a derivation from the Greek phronis - thought, prudence, related to the Greek word for mind, phren, as found in "schizophrenia."
In the end, however, Ben Yehuda thinks the most likely origin is from the Latin pensum, "payment" (and related to the English word "pension"), with a resh added in later. This is the also the only etymology suggested by Even Shoshan.
I agree with this book that the Latin origin doesn't seem very likely. We've noted before that there was very little borrowing from Latin to Hebrew, and here we've seen cognates in Aramaic and Syriac as well. And even Jastrow, who usually tries to avoid giving Greek origins to Hebrew words, says parnas is an "enlargement of paran פרן" - "dowry". Klein says paran comes from the Greek phrene, related to pherein "to carry". Jastrow says that this only a "phonetic coincidence", and that paran is actually related to paras. But in the end, Jastrow likely knew the Syriac theory, or could have come up with it on his own, and still thought it was more likely that the root of parnas was somehow p-r-n.
So I'm not sure which root to accept, but it's all Greek to me...
Friday, January 22, 2010
tipul and tafel
In the post about pashtida, we mentioned how in the Talmud, the verb טפל meant "to paste, to plaster" (dough in the example we brought). But today that root is found in what appears to be unrelated words - for example tipul טיפול - "care, treatment" and tafel טפל - "of secondary importance" (as found, for example, in this halachic concept). How did the root end up with so many meanings?
While it doesn't appear often, the root טפל does appear in Biblical Hebrew: Tehilim 119:69, Iyov 13:4 and 14:17. The Even-Shoshan concordance says they all mean "to attach", but only in the metaphorical sense. Iyov 14:17 has וַתִּטְפֹּל, עַל-עֲוֹנִי - "you would coat over my iniquity" (JPS
But even with all that, we're still not closer to seeing the modern uses of the root. Klein writes that the original (Biblical) meaning was "to smear, paste plaster" and the Post-Biblical meaning was "to add, join, attach." From here he writes that tafel means "additional, subsidiary, of secondary importance." He also writes that the pi'el form of the verb progressed from "he plastered" to "he cared for, attended to" (maybe in the medical sense that we mentioned above.) From here we get tipul, metapel מטפל and metapelet מטפלת - "caregiver", particularly for children.
One confusing factor here is that in Aramaic, taflaya טפליא means "children", with tefel טפל meaning "child". However, Klein (and others) say that these words don't derive from our root טפל, but rather are related to the Hebrew taf טף, meaning "children". This leads to the strange scenario where metupal מטופל means both "having many children" (based on tefel) and the child being taken care of (related to tipul). According to Avineri (Yad Halashon p. 330) the former was the more popular understanding of the word, based its usage in that sense in Yiddish. He wrote that piece in 1960, but something likely changed, for I've never heard metupal with that meaning in conversational Hebrew.
Another related word is tapil טפיל - "parasite." Ben Yehudah writes that it was coined by the physician and linguist Aharon Meir Mazia on the basis of the Arabic tufayli - "unwanted guest". Even Shoshan and Klein connect the Arabic word back to the root טפל, but don't explain why (the parasite is attached to the host? the parasite is of secondary importance to the host?). But Arabic dictionaries such as this one connect it to the Arabic cognate of tefel (child), and this book, discussing pre-Islamic Arab culture writes that children were viewed as "nonproductive" and that:
the etymological connection in Arabic between tifl, child, and tufayli, parasite, party crasher, "sponge", is illuminating in this regardAnd if all that wasn't confusing enough, there's another homophone out there. Klein writes that טפל is related to the root תפל also meaning "to smear, paste, plaster". However, there's an unrelated root, also spelled תפל, meaning "to be tasteless, be unseasoned" (this is the source of hatpala התפלה - "desalination"). Klein connects this second root with the Aramaic תפל ( = he talked silly things) and the Arabic tafala ( = he spat). A related Hebrew word is tifla תפלה - "folly" (this is entirely unrelated to tefila תפילה - "prayer".)
As you can perhaps imagine, תפלה as "folly" and טפלה as "of secondary importance" could be mixed up on their own, without even adding the fact that sometimes the tet and tav were switched in either direction. (For an example of the word switching meaning and spelling, see the play on words in Targum Yonatan, Sifrei and Rashi on Devarim 1:1). This page is meant to help Hebrew speakers tell the two roots apart, which isn't easy, particularly in the term emunot tefelot אמונות תפלות - "superstitions" (apparently coined by Krochmal).
Avineri wrote in Yad Halashon (page 216) that he suggested tefela טפלה as the Hebrew word for "by-product", but it was never adopted, probably due to the negative connotation of טפל (the word used today is totzar livay תוצר לואי). This probably also answers my question (in the pashtida post) as to why tefela was never adopted as the Hebrew term for pastry...
Friday, January 08, 2010
pashtida
אולי היה אויר ארצם גורם להם זה כמו אנשי צרפת שאינן מבינים לקרא השי"ן וקוראין אותה כמו תי"ו רפה
Perhaps it was due to the climate of their land, just as the people [Jews?] of France, who can't properly say shin, and instead read it as a soft tav ("th")
- Why does he assume that "da" is a separate suffix? According to this site, "-ade", or the Latin "ata" means "product of an action" (lemonade from lemons). If pashtida means pasta, then what action is being described?
- Why does he assume that שלוניקי was pronounced Shaloniki instead of Saloniki (with a "sin")? That's how it's written in the Hebrew Wikipedia page.
- Is he saying that the switch from pasta to pashti happened because the Jews wrote "s" with a shin deliberately, or because the French Jews mixed up "s" and "sh"?
- The Radak says that in France they pronounced "sh" as "th" (or "s"). How does that explain a mispronunciation of "s" as "sh"?
Probably from Middle Dutch pastede (=pie), from Late Latin pasta (whence also Italian, Spanish, etc. pasta), from Greek paste (=barleymash), which is related to pastos, paston (=sprinkled with salt), verbal adjective of passein (= to sprinkle), which is of uncertain etymology.
תרגם יונתן תכברא ממולאות בשר דק ובצים פשטי"ץ בלע"ז
Targum Yonatan translates this as tachbera ["basket" - Jastrow]. They were filled with ground meat and eggs - pashtitz in Laaz [foreign language].
ע"ש היטב ברש"י ד"ה רבי ישמעאל קורהו וכו' ומצוה ליישב
Look closely at Rashi s.v. רבי ישמעאל קורהו, there is an obligation to resolve it
כל דבר שממלא מבשר וצולהו היינו מולייתא כגון פשטידא
Anything filled with meat and roasted is mul'yeta, such as pashtida
Update: Shortly after publishing this post, I saw the Mikraot Gedolot HaKeter edition of Shmuel. I was very surprised to see that they had a rather different version of Rashi and Radak on our verse, with Rashi using the foreign word “פרשידש” and Radak providing “פרשירש”. These were both sufficiently different from any form of the word pashtida, that I thought it was important to research the point further.
From correspondence with Prof. Jordan Penkower and Daniel Fano, I discovered something very interesting. As Penkower mentions in his article, “גלגולי נוסח תרגום יונתן ופירוש רד"ק ליחזקאל כג, כ; לד, יח”, pgs 254-5 (in שנתון לחקר המקרא והמזרח הקדום יג), the Haketer version of Rashi (he has Radak using the same word) seems to be the accurate one. Other older manuscripts have similar spellings. What is the origin of this word? According to Fano, it is from the Old French farcid (farcides in plural). It means “to stuff” and is related to the English word “farce”.
According to Penkower, the Venice edition of Mikraot Gedolot (which I had used for my post) had no justification to use a variation of the word pashtida. He doesn’t say why they did – but my guess is that Rashi having used pashtida in Pesachim, and with pashtida and farcides both referring to stuffed food, they simply became confused.
So all of this, together with the important comment on my post by reader Mike Gerver that in the Arukh “mul'yeta is defined as any kind of food stuffed with meat, and gives pashtida as an example”, leads me to believe that perhaps Avshalom Kor’s position has more merit than I assumed. Pashtida may really refer to specifically a kind of pie or pastry, and not just anything stuffed with meat.
Friday, January 01, 2010
shibboleth
In his 1982 book, What's the Good Word?, Safire discusses "shibboleths" (page 246), which he defines as "those passwords that signal who is a native and who an outlander." Most of the entry contains examples of various American shibboleths, but he does provide the following background:
"Shibboleth," the Hebrew word for "stream," was used by the soldiers of Gilead to separate their neighbors from the Ephraimites, who pronounced the sh as an s; because they couldn't get it right, according to Judges 12:6, 42,000 Ephraimites were slain. In those days, pronunciation meant something.
The Concise Oxford Dictionary states that "shibboleth" derives from the Hebrew word for "an ear of corn," not "stream," as you report. Perhaps you base your information on rabbinical authority that would eclipse Oxford.
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You state that "shibboleth" is the Hebrew word for "stream." That is not quite correct. It means the current of a stream, not the stream itself. It is used with this meaning in verse 2 of Psalm 69. The word, which is pronounced "shibolet" in modern Hebrew, also means "an ear of corn or a spike." It is also the Hebrew name for the star Spica.
The Hebrew word שבלת, from an Ugaritic root, has several meanings: flowing stream (as in Isaiah 27:12 or Psalms 69:2), ear of corn (as in Ruth 2:2 or Isaiah 17:5), or twigs or branches (as in Zechariah 4:12). The first meaning makes most sense in the Judges narrative precisely because the incident took place at a stream. Seems like a logical password.
First of all, let's look at the verses themselves (Shoftim 12:5-6):
וַיִּלְכֹּד גִּלְעָד אֶת-מַעְבְּרוֹת הַיַּרְדֵּן, לְאֶפְרָיִם; וְהָיָה כִּי יֹאמְרוּ פְּלִיטֵי אֶפְרַיִם, אֶעֱבֹרָה, וַיֹּאמְרוּ לוֹ אַנְשֵׁי-גִלְעָד הַאֶפְרָתִי אַתָּה, וַיֹּאמֶר לֹא. ו וַיֹּאמְרוּ לוֹ אֱמָר-נָא שִׁבֹּלֶת וַיֹּאמֶר סִבֹּלֶת, וְלֹא יָכִין לְדַבֵּר כֵּן, וַיֹּאחֲזוּ אוֹתוֹ, וַיִּשְׁחָטוּהוּ אֶל-מַעְבְּרוֹת הַיַּרְדֵּן; וַיִּפֹּל בָּעֵת הַהִיא, מֵאֶפְרַיִם, אַרְבָּעִים וּשְׁנַיִם, אָלֶף
All of the classical Jewish commentaries identify the shibolet in the story as the "current of a stream", although I was surprised to see relatively little discussion of the linguistic nature of this episode (other than by the Radak, who we'll come back to later.) However, a number of scholarly articles in the past 70 years have done much to clarify the issue further.
One of the first was E. A. Speiser, in his 1942 article, "The Shibboleth Incident". Speiser doesn't put much significance in the meaning of the word, but does explain:
Instead, he prefers to focus on the phonetic aspect of the issue. While we've been translating the words as "shibolet" and "sibolet" - are either of those accurate representations of how the word was pronounced in Gilad and Efraim? And why couldn't Efraim pronounce it "properly"? Who had the non-standard pronunciation? How were the various pronunciations represented with the limited letters available (and no dots available to indicate the difference between shin and sin)?A full discussion of these questions is beyond the scope of this post, but it turns out that the meaning of the word remains significant, even for Speiser.
He mentions a theory, foreshadowed by the Radak on Shoftim 12:6, and later developed by Joseph Marquart and Zellig Harris. According to them, the two meanings of shibolet have two separate etymologies: "ear of corn" comes from the root sh-b-l שבל, whereas the meaning "flood, torrent" comes from a distinct root: th-b-l. Therefore, the Ephraimites pronounced the word as "thibolet", which gave them away. Beeston (1979) thinks that the original root was sbl סבל (as pronounced by the Ephraimites, but agrees the two meanings of shibolet have two different origins:
While Speiser agrees that the anomaly began on the eastern side of the Jordan, with the Gileadites, he does not accept either theory regarding the separate etymology, and instead writes that both of meanings of the word shibolet, along with its various Semitic cognates, derive from one root:
(Yet another view can be found in Rendsburg, 1986, who agrees that the two meanings of shibolet come from distinct roots, but that the Gileadites, influenced by their neighbors the Ammonites, pronounced the meaning "torrent, stream" as thibbolet, which the fleeing Ephraimites rendered as "sibbolet".)
Klein agrees with Speiser, and connects the various words to one root. For example in the entry for shibolet ("ear of corn") he writes:
And for the meaning "flowing stream, current of a river", he adds:
As far as shovel, he gives the more common translation as "flowing skirt, train of a robe", and says that it too derives from שבל, literally meaning "that which hangs down". Shevil - "path, way" - has the same origin, and literally means "that which runs along". (From here we get beshvil בשביל - "for", and literally means "in the path of".)
In the end, I find aspects of all the arguments convincing. Luckily for me, I don't need to decide who's right and wrong. But I am curious - shouldn't the meaning of the Biblical text be more obvious? Shouldn't the reader simply know what is meant without all of these debates and discussions? Perhaps it was left deliberately ambiguous, either to encourage study (and future Safire columns), or to allow the word play found with homonyms. That certainly seems to be the case in Yishayahu 27:12, as Hendel points out. The verse reads:
Here we have a wonderful play on words. On the one hand, we have the beating of the shibolet of grain (see Ruth 2:2,17) and on the other the shibolet of a river. Maybe understanding this is a sign that when it comes to Hebrew, we're natives, and not outlanders...
Friday, December 18, 2009
shlemiel
There are many theories as to the origin of the word "shlemiel" - an unlucky, clumsy person. (I'll stick with this spelling over "schlemiel" - although there are as many spellings as there are explanations as to its origin. As Rosten writes in Hooray for Yiddish
First of all, it's important to understand how the word entered English. Despite some discussion to the contrary, it's clear that the word entered German from Yiddish, and not the other way around. It became popularized in German via the 1814 story "Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte" ("Peter Schlemihl's Remarkable Story") by Adelbert von Chamisso. However, English apparently adopted the word shlemiel directly from Yiddish, not via German. (It is still used in German, and even the name of the Sesame Street muppet Lefty is "Schlemihl" in the German version).
Now to the Yiddish origins. I'll admit from the outset that I don't know the "true" origin, and I doubt any of us ever will. But I will review the various theories and tell you which seem more or less likely to me.
1) Even-Shoshan suggests that it is a corruption of the similar Yiddish word shlimazel (or schlimazel). Schlemazel is a combination of the German schlim (= "bad, crooked", related to the English "slim" ) and the Hebrew mazal מזל (= "luck").
However, the two words seem to be distinct, and are often paired together, as in the famous saying, "The shlemiel pours soup on the shlimazel" (and in the opening song of "Laverne and Shirley".)
2) Klein (in his entry for the Hebrew equivalent shelumiel שלומיאל) writes that it is "probably a transposition of shelo mo'il שלא מועיל (= useless)."
But a number of objections have been raised to this theory. I found two on the "Mendele: Yiddish literature and language" list archives. One is that while the phrase shelo mo'il is found fairly frequently in Talmudic Hebrew (and later), it "is suited for situations, acts, attempts at correction -- but not people." Another writer points out that
we would expect shelo mo'il to give something like *shloyml or *shlemoyl (the asterisk is used to indicate a form that does not exist). Since that is NOT what we find in Yiddish, the etymology in question cannot be accepted.3) The most popular explanation is that shlemiel comes from the Biblical Shelumiel ben Tzurishadai שלומיאל בן צורישדי - the prince of the tribe of Shimon (Bamidbar 1:6, 2:12, 7:36, 10:19). How did he become associated with the classic unfortunate bungler? There are a number of theories here as well:
a) One theory is based on the Talmud's claim (Sanhedrin 82b) that Shelumiel was one of the five names of Zimri, the prince of Shimon killed by Pinchas for sinning with a Midianite princess. Ignoring the fact that Shelumiel and Zimri lived a generation apart, Zimri doesn't seem "unfortunate" but "bad"! Why should the nickname come from him?
Rabbi Norman Lamm wrote an essay in 1974, called "The First Schelmihl". He claims that the shlemiel is not "hapless, luckless, a constant victim of conspiring circumstances", but rather is "sinister", "egotistical", and "will let no one and nothing stand in his way". While Lamm's homelitcal message is very powerful, it's hard for me to believe that the average person would make that jump, and understand that a real shlemiel is so evil. It just doesn't fit with the the way the word is used.
On the other hand, there are those that say that Zimri was unlucky, because while many were involved with the Midianites, he was the only one to get caught. But as Lamm pointed out, Zimri was clearly of a higher standing than the average person, and as the Talmud itself mentions, Zimri's act was as much of a rebellion against Moses as it was submission to passion.
Another question can be asked: if Zimri, for whatever reason, was the archetypal shlemiel, then why aren't we calling people zimris instead? One suggestion is that this was a private joke of the rabbis, to avoid recalling the improper nature of Zimri's act. Here too, I have difficulty accepting the idea that this kind of "conspiracy" would stick well enough to enter the popular jargon. In any case, the Talmud always refers to the culprit as Zimri, not Shelumiel, even such folksy sayings as "Their deeds are like those of Zimri, yet they ask for reward like Pinchas", so it doesn't seem likely that Zimri is our shlemiel.
b) A different theory suggests a connection between the unsuccessful fate of the tribe of Shimon (they were one of the smallest, didn't succeed in conquering their land) and "shlemiel". But again - it's a nice theory, but why use the name Shelumiel? (Rosten says in The Joys of Yiddish
that Shelumiel was a general of Shimon who lost his battles, but then corrects himself in Hooray for Yiddish, choosing to follow the Zimri connection instead.)c) Perhaps the most plausible Shelumiel theory that I've heard (first from my teacher Mitch Heifetz z"l) is mentioned here:
One suggestion relates to the arcane permutations of the Hebrew calendar. On Hanukkah a different section of Numbers 7 is recited daily, recounting the gifts of the tribal chieftains who each brought a daily offering at the dedication of the Tabernacle (mishkan). On the first day of Hanukkah, the first chieftain’s name appears at the beginning, on the second day the second chieftain’s name, and so on. (On the eighth day, the gifts of chieftains 8-12 are read.)While this does seem somewhat complicated, I can see how an average person might have noticed the fifth night's bad luck year after year (for a more positive take, see this Treppenwitz post.) However, Werner Weinberg (who taught us how to spell Chanukah here) writes in his Die Reste des Jüdischdeutschen that the first mention of this theory is in Halozebichel (Joke Book) of Rabbi Meir Ohnesorg, Prague 1864, p. 62. I couldn't find that book anywhere, but it seems possible that the whole etymology was just a joke.
The exception is the Sabbath during Hanukkah, when the Torah portion is that of the regular weekly cycle and the added maftir reading from a second scroll is the Hanukkah reading beginning with the daily chieftain. Only one day of Hanukkah’s eight never falls on a Sabbath: the fifth day. And which chieftain therefore never stars on the Sabbath, when the synagogue is far better attended than on a midwinter weekday morning? Why, Shelumiel ben Tsurishaddai, of course. Who else?
d) The last Shelumiel connection isn't a real theory at all, but still is important to mention. Heinrich Heine in his poem "Jehuda ben Halevy" writes that he heard the following "version" of the story from his friend Julius Eduard Hitzig (who, incidentally, was also friends with Chamisso):
But a legend amongst the people
Has been orally transmitted
Which denies that it was Zimri
Whom the spear of Phinehas slew.
And maintains that, blind with passion,
Phineas slew the transgressor,
but another who was guiltless --
Slew Schlemihl ben Zuri Schadday
This is clearly not what the Torah is describing, nor does it appear in any midrash. But it seems to have a lot of influence, and perhaps the very association of Shelumiel and shlemiel began with Heine (or Hitzig).
4) The last theory is presented by Leopold Löw (the father of Immanuel, who I've quoted often) in his book Die Lebensalter in der jüdischen Literatur (page 54). But instead of relating to a somewhat obscure biblical character, he find someone much closer to the age of Yiddish. In the responsa of the Maharil (1365 – 1427), he finds mention of a Rabbi named Shlomil (or perhaps Shlomel, likely a nickname for Shlomo or Shalom) of Enns, Austria, who had an unusual story:
וכן העיד שמה"ר שלומיל מעיר ענש הלך פעם אחת ללמוד למרחקים, ויהי לתקופת י"א חדשים ליציאתו ילדה אשתו והכל מעידין מרוב חסידותה ברור שלא זינתה תחתיו.
"And so testified Rabbi Shlomil of the city of Enns, that he once traveled far to study, and eleven months after he left his wife gave birth. But all know, that due to her righteousness, she clearly did not cheat on him [but rather had an unusually long pregnancy as mentioned in the Talmud, Yevamot 80b]"
Saturday, December 12, 2009
gelt
Growing up in America, one of my clearest memories from Chanukah was getting those foil wrapped chocolate coins - "gelt". Gelt means "money" in Yiddish, and there was an earlier custom of giving actual money on Chanukah (note that in Hebrew it is called דמי חנוכה dmei chanuka - "Chanukah money). How did this custom develop? There are a number of suggestions:
a) for use when playing with the dreidel
b) it was first associated with giving charity on Chanukah, perhaps to help the poor buy candles
c) it was originally a gift to teachers, because of the connection between Chanukah and chinuch (education)
However, I'm partial to the explanation that the first Jewish coins were produced during Hasmonean times, and the custom to give out money came to commemorate that. Is it historically true - I don't really know. But since my kids happened to find this Hasmonean coin at an archaeological dig in Jerusalem earlier this year, I certainly have an emotional connection!
What ever the reason - and please read this very funny article by Amy Klein about the development of giving both monetary and chocolate gelt - the custom has certainly become associated with Chanukah.
However, there's a little more to the story. If you had asked me not long ago, I would have guessed that gelt is related to "gold". But as we've seen here many times before, looks can be deceiving. Gelt has the following etymology:
Yiddish geld < MHG (a late-19th-c. borrowing): orig. (16th c.) < Ger or Du geld, but fell out of use except dialecticallyGeld (as a noun, the verb has a different origin) appears in English as well, and derives from the German as well:
"royal tax in Medieval England," O.E. gield "payment, tribute" (cf. M.H.G. gelt "payment, contribution," Ger. geld "money," O.N. gjald "payment," Goth. gild "tribute, tax"), from PIE base of yieldGold has an entirely different etymology - it comes from the Indo-European root *ghel, meaning "yellow".
But we do find more English words related to gelt. For example, guild:
c.1230, yilde (spelling later infl. by O.N. gildi), a semantic fusion of O.E. gegyld "guild" and gild, gyld "payment, tribute, compensation," from P.Gmc. *gelth- "pay" (cf. O.Fris. geld "money," O.S. geld "payment, sacrifice, reward," O.H.G. gelt "payment, tribute"). The connecting sense is of a tribute or payment to join a protective or trade society.And there may be a connection to what some might view as a very Jewish word, guilt:
O.E. gylt "crime, sin, fault, fine," of unknown origin, though some suspect a connection to O.E. gieldan "to pay for, debt," but O.E.D. editors find this "inadmissible phonologically.I found this article about the history of gelt called "Gelt is Good". I assume they were trying to make a pun on "Guilt is Good" (which itself is a take off on the famous movie line "Greed is Good.") But I'm guessing that editor never thought that there was a possible etymological connection between the two words...
Friday, December 11, 2009
treif and taraf
We previously looked at glatt, which went from describing a particular stringency regarding the lungs of cows, to describing extra kosher food in general. A similar example can be found in the word terefah טרפה, which in the Torah (as in Shmot 22:30) refers to an animal whose "flesh (was) torn by beasts in the field." The root טרף means "torn to pieces". In Talmudic Hebrew, the meaning of terefah was extended to mean "a clean animal inflicted with an organic defect, a mortal injury, or a fatal disease" (Sarna on Shmot 22:30, see also Kehati's introduction to Hullin 3:1). And later, the term expanded to include all non-kosher food, and the adjective taref טרף was adopted (Klein points out that this is a "back formation from terefah, which was regarded as a feminine adjective.) From taref, we got the Yiddish treif, which can mean anything not "kosher", even non-food items.
But as we mentioned above, the original meaning of the verb as "to tear away." In Biblical Hebrew teref could also mean food in general, such as in the phrases טֶרֶף, נָתַן לִירֵאָיו - "He gives food to those that fear Him" (Tehillim 111:5) and וַתִּתֵּן טֶרֶף לְבֵיתָהּ - "She provides food for her household" (Mishlei 31:15). Certainly neither case is talking about treyf food!
A related sense of טרף is "to mix, confuse". The Talmudic term for a beaten egg is ביצה טרופה - beitza terufa. A person who is mixed up, disturbed, confused is מטורף metoraf - which in Modern Hebrew means "insane". And just as in English, where the word "mad" means insane, but "like mad" means "with excitement or enthusiasm", so too does metoraf mean in Israeli slang not only "crazy", but "excited, exceptional, unbelievable" and בטירוף b'teruf means "with excitement."
But there's a similar sounding slang term that isn't actually related to the root טרף that we've discussed so far: אטרף atraf. It means "great excitement" (Rosenthal) and Milon Morfix actually defines it as "craziness, insanity; hysteria, stress". However, it derives from an Arabic word meaning "rare" or "interesting". Stahl writes that in Literary Arabic, tarf means "eye", and the verb means "to stare, gaze, glance". From here developed the meaning "to look at something new", and tarif means "new, rare, interesting" (the English word tariff is not related). Another aspect came out of the sense of looking from the corner of the eye, and taraf can mean "periphery, extreme, end, side, coast". From this Arabic word, the Spanish cape of Trafalgar got its name - Tarf al-Gharb (Cape of the West) or Tarf al-Ghar (Cape of the Cave). (The 1805 Battle of Trafalgar is commemorated in London's famous Trafalgar Square.)
This got me thinking - are there any Hebrew words cognate to this Arabic root? It looks like there's a good chance. In Bereishit 8:11, we find the following phrase: וְהִנֵּה עֲלֵה-זַיִת טָרָף בְּפִיהָ. "And there, in its bill, was a taraf olive leaf." Some commentaries, such as Rashi, explain taraf as a verb, meaning "plucked", relating it to our earlier understanding of taraf as "torn". But according to Cassuto, this is a difficult explanation, and we should rather view taraf as an adjective meaning "fresh", which is cognate to our Arabic root meaning "new". Cassuto claims that this is the view of most commentaries, and I have seen it in Ben-Yehuda, Kaddari and Daat Mikra.
So we've gone from an animal with a fatal disease, to a fresh, new leaf. Pretty metoraf, no?
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
glatt
We've just discussed mehadrin - now let's look at that other word for "super kosher": glatt.
I once read an article where the writer was unhappy about the phenomenon where children would become more strict in their kosher food requirements than their parents were. This made it difficult for the children to eat in their parents' home. He then complained, "Honoring your father and mother is a Torah law - and glatt is only a Yiddish word!"
Without going into the debate of that article, lets look at that "Yiddish word." It means "smooth" in Yiddish, and refers to the lungs of a cow (therefore it technically does not apply to chicken, or even lamb, and certainly not to dairy food, despite labels like this.) The Sefardim were strict about the "smooth" lungs, whereas Ashkenazi halacha did not require it. This actually explains why the Yiddish term glatt became more popular - only Ashkenazim needed a special word for their extra stringency. The parallel Hebrew word is chalak חלק. However, whereas chalak still refers to the state of the animals lungs, in Hebrew, as in English, glatt has spread to mean "extra kosher".
The Yiddish (and Modern German) glatt come from the Middle High German glat, which in turn derives from the Indo-European root *ghledho, meaning "bright, smooth". From here we get the English word glad, as well as the Latin word for sword - gladius, more familiar by the name of its carrier - the gladiator. However, the gladiator was more concerned that his sword be smooth than the lungs of his victims...
Monday, December 07, 2009
mehadrin and hadran
Today the word mehadrin מהדרין is generally associated with “super” kosher food (or even bus lines…). But the word actually first appears in the laws of Chanukah, in Masechet Shabbat 21b. There it says that if one lights a candle for each member of the household it is considered mehadrin, and if one adds (or subtracts) additional candles each night, it is considered hamehadrin min hamehadrin. There are two explanations to this term (see this article for an explanation of the significance of the two opinions). The one more popularly accepted is that of Rabbeinu Yitzchak in Tosafot, who say that the word derives from the root הדר, connected to the Biblical hadar, glory (cognate to the Akkadian adaru, and related to the Hebrew adir אדיר - "noble"). According to Rabbeinu Yitzchak, when we add the additional candles, we glorify the mitzva, as we find with other mitzvot – the concept of hidur mitzva (beautifying the mitzva).
But Rashi has a different explanation. He says that mehadrin is related to the Aramaic verb הדר, meaning “to return”. This root is related, through familiar consonant changes, to the Hebrew roots חדר (to surround, enclose; not actually related to חדר cheder - "room") and חזר (to go around, return, court). So Rashi explains that the person who is mehadrin, is "going around", pursuing the mitzvot. (See Brachot 53b for the parallel Hebrew expression - שמחזרים על המצוות - which is actually followed by an Aramaic translation: מהרדנא).
Another word with a similar debate as to its origin and meaning is hadran הדרן – from the passage read at the completion of a tractate of the Talmud: הדרן עלך .. והדרך עלן hadran alach ... v'hadrach alan. (Eventually the passage itself became known as the "hadran", which led to the modern Hebrew meaning “encore”). Here, the common explanation is that it means “return”, and therefore the phrase means, “we will return to you, and you will return to us” (as mentioned by the Sefer HaEshkol). However, a number of researchers, such as Margolies (Olelot and Nitzotzei Or), Lieberman (Alei Ayin) and Sperber (Minhagei Yisrael vol 1; see an English summary in chapters 19 and 20 here) claim that hadran derives from hadar - “glory”, and so the phrase means, “our glory to you, and your glory to us.” This is both based on explicit mentions by earlier rabbis (such as the brother of the Maharal, Rav Chaim) as well as similar Talmudic passages: in Sukkah 45a it says that at the end of the Hoshanot on Sukkot, they would say to the altar: יופי לך המזבח - "beauty is yours, altar" and in Rosh Hashana 31a, it says that at the end of the Musaf sacrifices they would say הזיו לך - "the splendor is yours" (this phrase is actually included in the "hadran" of the Akedat Yitzhak). A similar phrase is also found in the Shir HaKavod ("Anim Zemirot") - פארו עלי ופארי עליו - "His glory is on me, and my glory is on him". In the end, Sperber concludes that the original meaning may have been "return", and the sense of "glory" was added in the times of the Geonim, so that the phrase intentionally carried both meanings.
One interpretation (Rashi, Kaddari) of the the unique biblical term hadurim הדורים (Yeshayahu 45:2) is that it means "curvy paths" - and is also related to the root הדר as "return, go around". The phrase from that verse - וַהֲדוּרִים אֲיַשֵּׁר (straighten out the curvy paths, according to the explanation I quoted), is used in conversational Hebrew to mean "iron out the difficulties."
There’s no question about the origin of the word mahadura מהדורה, meaning “edition”. It comes from the Aramaic מהדורא, which is simply the Aramaic form of the Hebrew “machzor” מחזור. Both of which mean a “cycle, period of time”, and derive from the cognates הדר/חזר (see that usage in Bava Batra 157b). However, in modern Hebrew (even predating Ben Yehuda), mahadura came to refer to an edition of a printed work (now it also means a newscast), whereas machzor can mean any recurring event in the calendar, or the prayerbook used on holidays (originally it was interchangeable with siddur, but in time the siddur became designated for daily and weekly use). So you can actually use a particular mahadura of the machzor without the phrase seeming redundant…
Thursday, October 15, 2009
kalgas
Today I heard on the news a word I wasn't too familiar with: kalgas קלגס. The dictionary definition is "soldier", but the connotation seems to always be a brutal, thuggish soldier. It certainly sounded like it was not of Semitic origin, and Klein confirms that:
soldier, warrior (mostly used in the plural קלגסים). [Latin caliga (= heavy military shoe), whence figurative 'military service'. Related to calx (=heel), calcar (=spur), calceus (=shoe).]
Klein, as well as most sources I checked, doesn't connect calx as "heel" to the Latin calx meaning "lime, pebble", which is the source of such words as calcium and calculation. However, this site suggests that perhaps
The Latin word for heel is calx, calcis. Here we must take another short digression, because the Latin word for lime is also calx. The Century tells us that the underlying Latin means "small stone," and perhaps that is the connection between "lime" and the "heel." Lime, or chalk, begins as a small stone that is eroded while the heel bone can appear, to the eye, as if stone-shaped. The Latin word for shoe is calceus, or something that goes over the heel.In any case, caliga - the Roman sandals, secured with nails (which made quite a bit of noise) - were apparently frightening enough to give their name to the Roman soldiers in general (pictures here). For example, the Mishna (Sota 8:1) interprets part of the verse of Devarim 20:3 - "Let not your heart faint; fear not, nor be alarmed" - as saying not to fear the noise of the (enemy) troops - שפעת הקלגסין. The notorious Roman emperor Caligula also got his name from those shoes - his name mean "little (soldier's) boot", because as a child he accompanied his father, a general, in military campaigns.
You may have noticed that we don't have many words from the Talmudic period that derive from Latin; far more come from Greek. On the face of it, that seems strange: at the time of the Mishna and later, the Romans were in control of the Land of Israel, not the Greeks. However, Hellenistic culture continued to have significant impact even in the Roman empire, and Greek remained the literary language and lingua franca in the region. The Romans did not enforce their language on conquered areas, so it should not be such a surprise that Latin did not enter Talmudic Hebrew. In fact, a large portion of the words that did enter Hebrew, are related to the military - such as gardom גרדום - "gallows", ligyon לגיון - "legion", pigyon פגיון - "dagger", and of course, kalgas.
Monday, October 12, 2009
budke
Sukkot was last week, and we just put away the last part of our sukkah. So it seems like a good time to finish one last sukkot related word.
During the holiday, we took a tour of the Herodion fortress. The guide told us to meet at the בודקה budke - the little cabin/shack/hut up the hill (the proper Hebrew word is beitan ביתן). I pointed out that maybe the word means "little booth" - since the (originally Russian) suffix "-ke" is used as a diminutive in Yiddish. He hadn't thought of that before, and liked the idea.
However, I was wrong.
While a few web sites propose an English origin of the term, almost all the sources I saw say the whole word entered Hebrew from Yiddish (where the spelling was בודקע). There is an issue for debate, however. Does the Yiddish come from the German bude (or bode) meaning "small house" - which is cognate with the English word "booth" (and according to some - but not all - "abode")? Or does it derive from the Russian будка budka with the same meaning?
Since most Central and Eastern European languages have some cognate to this root, I think it will probably be difficult to prove the origin one way or another. One thing I am a little more certain about is the preferred spelling. Both Even Shoshan and Rosenthal provide budke before butke בותקה - which is how I had previously assumed the word was spelled. However, since both Russian and German use "d" and not "t" - I think the spelling (and pronunciaton) budke is somewhat more authentic.
And now - I can finally file budke away!
Friday, October 09, 2009
petek
On Hoshana Rabbah there is a custom to greet people with the Aramaic expression פתקא טבא pitka tava - for which the Hebrew equivalent is פתק טוב petek tov. In Modern Hebrew petek means note (or the piece of paper the note is written on), so the phrase would mean "good note". What does that mean?
Well, it turns out that the original meaning of petek wasn't "note", but "lot" or "ballot". Klein gives the following etymology:
from Greek pittakion (=tablet for writing on, label, ticket; votive tablet; list of members of an association), which is of uncertain, possibly Thracian origin(Ben Yehuda points out that while petek is certainly of a Greek origin, there is also a Semitic root פתק meaning "to break, split", and this verb could have become associated with the Greek word, as the Hebrew word for "lot", goral גורל, also originally meant a "small (broken) stone".)
Arabic has a cognate term (also deriving from the Greek) - bitaqa, meaning "ticket". Latin also borrowed the Greek for their pittacium, meaning "label, plaster, patch", which gave us the English word petechia, meaning a skin eruption caused by a minor hemorrhage. The Spanish word pedazo, meaning "piece", also comes from the Latin.
As explained on this site, the Greek pittakion meant "an imperial administrative order in the form of a letter." This seems to be an appropriate understanding of the term for Hoshana Rabbah, as described here:
In the Talmud, Hoshana Rabbah is referred to as a day when everyone comes to the synagogue. Its special character was emphasized during the time of the geonim, who saw it as the day in which each human being receives from heaven a note on which his fate is registered. And so there are those who greet each other on this day with the Aramaic blessing a pitka tava, or in Yiddish gut kveitl.Since this is a relatively late custom, it is possible that the Yiddish term preceded the Aramaic one. The Yiddish word kvittel is used to describe a written petition of a hasid to his rebbe, as well as the notes placed in the Western Wall. The Yiddish word derives from the German quittung - "receipt". Quittung is cognate to the English "quittance" - meaning
1. Release from a debt, an obligation, or a penalty.Quittance, in turn, is related to the words "quit", "acquit", "quite" and "quiet" - all reflecting a sense of "free (from war, debts), clear, calm, resting". Together, they sound like a great blessing for all my readers!
2. A document or receipt certifying such release.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
cherem and harem
The Hebrew word cherem חרם is familiar to most of us as a ban, an excommunication. This type of censure developed in Talmudic and Medieval times. However, the Biblical word also means "to ban". Klein says that in Biblical Hebrew it meant to ban, devote, confiscate. (There is a discussion here as to whether the meaning "to destroy, exterminate" has the same origin, for in Arabic the two meanings are spelled differently.) In Talmudic Hebrew it also began to refer to a type of vow (as we find in the Kol Nidrei prayer.)
Even-Shoshan, in his Concordance, notes that of the 51 occurrences of the Biblical verb, all but three of them have a sense of "to destroy". One (Yishayahu 11:15) means "to dry up" and two (Micha 4:13 and Vayikra 27:28) refer to dedication to God. This meaning is reflected in the Arabic cognate harim - "sacred, forbidden". This root appears in a number of Arabic phrases, such as Al-Haram ash-Sharif - the Arabic name for the holy Temple Mount.
The English word harem also derives from this root:
Another related word is Marrano - the Jews of Spain and Portugal who were forced to convert to Christianity, but secretly observed Judaism. It has a fairly distasteful etymology:
1634, from Turk. harem, from Arabic haram "wives and concubines," originally "women's quarters," lit. "something forbidden or kept safe," from root of harama "he guarded, forbade."
Because of this origin, the term is not commonly used today. Hebrew uses Anusim אנוסים - those forced to convert. In English, Crypto-Jews has become an acceptable alternative.
1583, from Sp., lit. "pig, swine," an expression of contempt, from Arabic muharram "forbidden thing" (eating of pork is forbidden by Muslim and Jewish religious law), from haruma "was forbidden".
Three place names are related to this root as well. Mount Hermon - הר חרמון, Israel's tallest mountain and the only snow-capped one, is generally assumed to derive its name from חרם. Some say that this is due to it being inaccessible, unapproachable, "off limits". Others say that it served as a holy site to the Canaanites who lived in the area (see Shoftim 3:3, where it is called Har Baal Chermon הַר בַּעַל חֶרְמוֹן, indicating worship there). The Ramban, in his commentary to Devarim 3:9 reflects both of these theories. (A third theory is mentioned in the apocryphal book Chanoch (Enoch) I, chapter 6 and quoted in Hebrew here, where it is written that the mountain is called Hermon because the angels took a vow there).
Another location that derives its name from this root is Wadi Haramia ואדי חרמיה, north of Jerusalem (near the towns of Eli and Maaleh Levona.) As described here, it
literately means the valley of the bandits. This narrow passage through two very high mountains leaves no room for detours. As mentioned earlier, this road is historically the highway of the bible. Throughout the ages pilgrims and travelers would pass though this valley on their way to Jerusalem. Local bandits would take advantage of the topography and take their toll from the travelers.These bandits would "confiscate" the property of their victims. The valley was also the site of an important battle in the time of the Maccabees.
A different type of place name related phrase is the Hebrew ad chorma עַד-חָרְמָה - meaning "until complete destruction." This phrase is found in Bamidbar 14:45 and Devarim 1:44. However, this actually refers to a Canaanite city called Hormah - about 25 kilometers to the east of Beer Sheva.
Monday, September 14, 2009
solet and semolina
For now, let's look at the "ancient" solet. There are a number of opinions as to its granularity. The common translation of solet is "fine flour", and this is also found in most dictionaries. (Since the word fine can mean both "of superior quality" and "consisting of very small particles", I'll be using the synonym "powdery" from here throughout this post - except when quoting sources). A number of commentaries insist that solet is coarser than kemach (Radak, Sefer HaShorashim; Rashi, Menachot 66a, s.v. shel garosot1). Of those who agree with these commentaries, they translate solet as "semolina" (which we'll look at later). One of the most prominent ones to do so was Milgrom (Leviticus
p.179), who writes:Solet is identified with grits or, more precisely, semolina, "The grain-like portions of wheat retained in the bolting-machine after the fine flour has been passed through" (Webster)2
How did this significant disagreement arise?
[King] Shlomo's daily provisions consisted of 30 kors of solet and 60 kors of kemach
What made it more valuable? Well, part of it may have been the granularity, but that was a side effect of its purity - how white it looked3. Today we get our white flour white by bleaching, but that wasn't available back then. They used a two part process to remove the bran and germ, and to leave only the white endosperm. If the kernel was ground to a fine powder right away, then it wouldn't be possible to sift out the bran later. So for special occasions, in order to make particularly refined flour, they would grind the kernel coarsely, creating "grits" (or "groats"), sift out the two kinds of coarse bran (subin סובין and mursan מורסן) and the "bran dust"4, which is very powdery and not desirable, and then grind the remainder again. What was left was more white and powdery than what would have resulted from a one-time milling. (In the Temple, they would repeat this process a number of times to get a purer result5).
So actually both those that say that solet was coarse and those that say that it was powdery were correct. In the beginning of the process, solet was coarser than the kemach that would result from a standard milling. But by the end of the process, solet was powdery6, whereas the kemach would have been comparatively coarse. Nahum Sokolow (in Bemarot Hakeshet, pgs 552-4) distinguishes between the two stages, by calling the first one "solet" and the second one "kemach solet"7, which was later abbreviated to simply "solet", adding to the confusion. But in the end, what distinguishes solet from kemach is quality more than granularity8.
All of this helps to explain a well known, but not so well understood passage in Pirkei Avot (5:15): a student is compared to a sieve (napa נפה), which "lets out the kemach and retains the solet":
וְנָפָה, שֶׁמּוֹצִיאָה אֶת הַקֶּמַח וְקוֹלֶטֶת אֶת הַסֹּלֶת
For those who claim that solet is more powdery than kemach, the sentence is difficult to understand - since a sieve retains the coarser material. There have been attempts to force the mishna into this preconception. Kaempf, in his siddur, Siach Yitzchak, emends the text to read "pesolet" פסולת - waste - instead of solet. The Tiferet Yisrael commentary explains that the solet actually refers to the undesired dust (which is more powdery than the preferred kemach), and it is "retained" by sticking to the sides of the sieve. But both approaches miss the point, as the mishna clearly is referring to a good student, who keeps the good and ignores the worthless9. But if we note that the mishna is referring to the beginning of the process, then yes - the coarser solet is retained, and the kemach is discarded (as explained by the Bartenura).
So what's the best definition of solet? The JPS suggests "choice flour"10. Despite Ginsberg's protests (see footnote #2), I think this is the most accurate definition, since it isn't dependent on the variation in granularity found in the different stages of the process. However, I believe I have what might be even a simpler suggestion. As seen here, the English word "flour" was spelled "flower" until the 19th century, and was short for the "flower of meal" - the best (part) of the (ground) meal. This is still the term used in many European languages, such as the Italian fiore di farina11 and the French fleur de farine, as quoted by Ben Yehuda in his translation of solet. Meal is defined as "the usually coarsely ground and unbolted seeds of a cereal grass or pulse" - this seems appropriate for kemach. So maybe the best definition of solet would simply be "flour", and kemach could be translated as "meal".
Of course all this applies to ancient solet - not how it is used in Modern Hebrew. Today solet means semolina, which is indeed coarser than regular flour. But there's more to semolina than its granularity - let's look at why I don't prefer Milgrom's translation of ancient solet as "semolina".
First of all, the meaning of the word semolina as Milgrom suggests is relatively recent (its first mention in the OED is from 1797), but it has a long and interesting history. We've looked at it briefly earlier, but I've since found sources that explain it better, particularly an Italian article by Gabriella Giacomelli entitled "'Semola' in Italia: ambiguità di una parola", which discusses the semantic shift of the word semola. As we pointed out, the Aramaic semida סמידא gave us the Greek semidalis and the Latin simila12. Both are good parallels for solet, as they are generally translated as "fine flour" (although we're still stuck with the ambiguity of the word "fine" - powdery or best?). Giacomelli quotes Pliny and Celsus as saying that the Latin simila (and a similar term similago) wasn't the most powdery of flours - that would be reserved for other terms, such as the Latin pollen (our English word pollen is related) - it was rather of an intermediary granularity, somewhat coarse, although of good quality, and that meaning is still found in some parts of Italy (although the more widespread use is more recent). In the Northern part of Italy and further north into Germany, the derivatives of simila mean "powdery flour" (Italian semola, German semmel, Yiddish zeml, and later the English word "simnel" - cakes or rolls made of fine wheat flour.). But in the rest of Italy, to the south, semola progressed in the other direction, to the coarser "bran"13. From here came the diminutive "semolino" (from which came the English "semolina"14) - little bran, i.e. a coarser flour than the generic Italian word for flour "farina" (although it originally meant "meal"15).
So I think the complicated history of the word and the various definitions of its "ancestors" makes it an awkward choice of a translation. It's particularly disingenuous to hint to semidalis being the Septuagint's translation of solet and the Vulgate using simila16 - the word has gone through so many changes from semidalis and simila to semolina to render the connection almost irrelevant. And if we go back far enough, semida was used by Targum Yonatan as an Aramaic synonym for solet - so a derivative of semida doesn't really describe what solet was17.
However, there's another reason to reject this translation. Since we're focusing on the modern word semolina, we shouldn't limit ourselves to Webster's definition, but we should rather take into account the word's general connotation. Today semolina is not used for preparing bread18 - which solet certainly was during Biblical times. A more comprehensive modern definition of semolina can be found here:
The inner, granular, starchy endosperm of hard or durum wheat (not yet ground into flour); used to make pasta and semolina milk pudding.
That's not a good definition for ancient solet. However, while solet does appear more frequently than kemach in Biblical Hebrew, in later Hebrew kemach is much more prominent. It seems that since Temple times, solet has fallen out of common usage19. Therefore, I don't see any problem with solet becoming the modern word for semolina, which is used for products like couscous and pasta. Modern solet/semolina is more coarse than regular flour, and as we've seen during one stage of the ancient process, solet was more coarse than kemach. And although it does lead to some confusion, it encourages the discussion of the granularity of solet - which is what led me to research this post...
notes
1 In his commentary on Menachot 27a (s.v. misolta), Rashi goes so far as to say that solet and grits (geres) are synonymous: גרש וסולת חד הוא.
2 H.L. Ginsberg defended the translation "semolina" a number of times, such as in his article, The Grain Harvest Laws of Leviticus 23:9-22 and Numbers 28:26-31. There he writes about the word semolina: "This is notoriously the exact equivalent of the Hebrew solet; see G. Dalman, Arbeit und Sitte in Palastina, III, 292-294. I therefore apologize for the pusillanimity that made me yield to the vehement objections of my colleagues on the committee that produced the Jewish Publication Society's translation of the Torah and the Nevi'im, who are such esthetes that they insist on poetry in a recipe; whence that translation's 'choice flour,' which is not very choice." However, I do see that the JPS
translates solet as semolina in Melachim I 5:2.3 In addition to purity, the Roman doctor Celsus (quoted here) felt that the more flour was bolted (sifted) the healthier it was. While modern science certainly says that whole wheat flour is healthier than white flour, "Joe Pastry" correctly points out that the fat in whole wheat flour can cause it to become rancid much sooner, so there were other considerations to sifting flour other than "purity".
4 This is probably the avak אבק which rendered the solet for the sacrifices invalid (Menachot 85a).
5 Menachot 76b. See this article by Rabbi Shalom Ohana for a detailed description of the process in the Temple and the various opinions in the commentaries as to how it was performed. He points out that while in general at the time the wheat was wetted before grinding to help the bran separate from the endosperm (as described here), that couldn't be done in the Temple since most of the grain sacrifices were matza (and therefore couldn't have extended contact with water.)
6 Gesenius says that the word solet derives from the root סלל meaning "shaking, sifting", but most other sources (such as Klein and Milgrom) link it to the Akkadian salatu (to crush) and siltu (grits), which would connect it to the connotation of "coarse".
7 This is the phrase found in Bereshit 18:5, where Avraham had Sarah prepare "kemach solet". For a full discussion of the meaning of the phrase there, see this article by Gil Marks. He discusses the disagreement between Rashi, who says it refers to two separate items (not a construct), and the Ramban, who says this means solet that is made from kemach. The Gur Aryeh explains Rashi's approach by saying that you can't say "kemach from solet", because solet is made from kemach (this would of course support the Ramban as well.) However, Onkelos translates the phrase (in some versions) as קמחא סולתא kimcha d'solta - kemach of solet, which would seem to support Sokolow's view that the kemach was made from solet. Note also Rav Saadia Gaon here, who explains the phrase as meaning "powdery solet."
8 Another factor that some discuss is the type of grain. The Sifra, based on Shmot 29:2, points out that only wheat (not barley) can be used for solet. In addition, some sources distinguish between the various kinds of wheat. See the Gil Marks article mentioned above, as well as this blog post.
9 This is clear from the parallel section in Avot D'Rabbi Natan (chapter 40) where it says that the sieve-like student "lets out the bad and retains the good". Neusner makes an interesting point that in this chapter the wicked category is listed last, but I don't see how he can ignore the Avot D'Rabbi Natan.
10 Strangely, the JPS Numbers
28:12 has "choice flour", but the following verse has "fine flour." Everett Fox
has "(proper) flour". Another suggestion (found here) is חלב חיטה chelev chita - the "fat of the wheat", i.e. the best of the wheat. It is possible that the cereal "Cream of Wheat" was inspired by this earlier term.11 This 1820 book describes fiore di farina in a manner that strongly recalls solet: "The flour is divided into three parts, to obtain the kind which is proper for manipulation. The first separated is the coarse and husky part; the next, the white impalpable powder; after which operation remains the fiore di farina, which is neither very finely pulverized, nor remarkably white, and is by far the smallest quantity of the whole mass. This is found to contain the purest part of the wheat, and to make the finest bread."
12 For a detailed description of how the Greeks borrowed the Akkadian samidu (both the term and the product) for their semidalis, as well as what type of wheat was used in both locations, see Robert Sallares, Ecology of the Ancient Greek World
, pgs. 317-326.13 This leads to the strange phenomenon of semola being translated in Italian-English dictionaries (such as Cassell's) as "bran; fine flour".
However, the more common word for "bran" in Italian is crusca. This led to even more confusion for me in my research, since the name of the Italian Language Academy is Accademia della Crusca!
14 I think that Giacomelli's etymology is much more clear than the popular one: "Alteration of Italian semolino, diminutive of semola, bran, from Latin simila, fine flour."
Why should "bran" derive from "fine flour"?
15 Note that the Vulgate on 1 Kings Chapter 4, Verse 22 has simila for "solet" and farina for "kemach". In Modern Italian, the derivatives have switched connotations.
16 I refer to Ginsberg's comment here, where he writes, "Yet it is my personal opinion that we should have gone farther. Our 'choice flour' is, to be sure, a better rendering of soleth than the conventional 'fine flour,' since the word certainly means in actuality "semolina" (witness, among other proofs, the renderings of the ancient versions), which is not at all 'fine.' I do not see why we could not have said 'semolina,' at least in a great majority of the relevant passages, which are technical descriptions of ritual." [emphasis mine]
17 However, Targum Yonatan was a later translation than Onkelos (who used solta סולתא), and had a lot of Greek influence. So it could be that TY used semida for stylistic reasons - it was an Aramaic word similar to the familiar Greek semidalis.
18 Somewhat complicating the issue is the fact that semolina has a different meaning in British and American English. This book writes: "In the U.K. where Triticum durum wheats are not regularly milled the term 'semolina' is used to describe a coarse intermediate stock produced from the break system, in the milling of flour from T. aestivum wheats. In the U.S.A., where durum, common and club wheats are milled, the term 'semolina' is reserved for the durum product; and the coarse milling intermediate from the other wheats, equivalent to the U.K. 'semolina' is called 'farina'."
19 It appears that not only did the terminology change, but the technology as well. Tosafot (Taanit 9b, s.v. nehila) describes the Talmudic process of creating solet, but notes that it "was not done as we do in our times". The Tosafot were composed in the 12th and 13th centuries, but as this book notes, only around 1300 did the process of advanced sifting return to Europe: "From the 1300s to the 1700s, the sifting process consisted of putting the flour first through a net or sieve to remove the coarse particles, and then through a woolen bolting cloth. The resulting flour [was] the finest white flour of its day...". This description, nearly identical to the Talmudic description of the creation of solet, implies that until then, the wheat was ground whole without significant sifting. However, Ibn Ezra, a contemporary of the Tosafot, notes (Shmot 29:2, extended commentary) that in the Arab lands they still prepare solet, and make the best bread from it.
Update (Jan 8 2010): In the course of researching pashtida, I found a fascinating insight into the understanding of solet, with real relevance to halacha. The gemara in Pesachim 74b discusses the case of a bird roasted in a coating of dough. If it is made of semida / solet, then it is permitted to eat (even without salting), because the blood will pass through. If it is made of other kinds of flour, then only depending of the color of the dough will it be permitted. The Rambam (Hilchot Maachalot Asurot 6:19) explains that the solet is coarse, and therefore allows the blood to pass through. This makes sense, as the Rambam lived in lands where they still had the technology to produce solet. On the other hand, Rashi (Pesachim 74b, s.v. בחיורתא) writes that they only use other flours (in his time) and not solet. The Shibolei HaLeket (as quoted by the Beit Yosef on Tur, Yoreh Deah 78) says that they are no longer familiar with the different types of flours, and because of this, the Beit Yosef abandons the halacha, allowing only salted meat to be cooked in dough.