Word-play
The
rôle-identification of Nabal with Saul is, arguably, canonized in Saul’s final
exchanges with David in 26:21-25, where we find Saul at his most conciliatory: “I
have done wrong; come back, my son David, for I will never again harm you,
because my life was precious in your eyes this day; behold, I have played
the fool (הסכלתי) and have erred exceedingly” (v. 21). On any reckoning הסכלתי is a loaded word. This is the verb with which Samuel launched
into his denunciation of Saul at Gilgal: “You have acted foolishly (נסכלת); you have not kept the commandment of the Lord your God which he
commanded you” (1 Sam. 13:13); now in the presence of the successor to whom
Samuel’s speech makes allusion Saul pronounces judgment on himself.
But
it is also worth considering whether הסכלתי has special significance within the more immediate context. In
other words, does the admission “I have played the fool” point back to chapter
25 and the figure of Nabal? A definitive answer would require an excursion into
the semantic field of “folly” in Biblical Hebrew, and, in particular, a
discussion of the merits of “fool” as a translation of BH נבל. S.R. Driver favoured the translation “churl” in 25:25, and this
is the way of NEB: “’Churl’ is his name, and churlish his behaviour.” James
Barr, on the other hand, opts mediatingly for “churlish fool”, though he does
not regard this as the original meaning of the actual name “Nabal” (“The
Symbolism of Names in the Old Testament”, BJRL 52 [1969=70], 21-8). There
is indeed strong versional support for locating BH HEB within the semantic field
of “folly”, evidence which extends to the Hebrew-Greek equivalences in
Ecclesiasticus (E.g. Ecclus 4:27; 21:22). If “Nabal” has some
connotation of “folly” then, as Gemser has noted, there is a handy Akkadian
analogue in the personal name Saklu (“foolish”). It is also a matter of some
relevance that the Hebrew root נבל denotes more than folly if by that we mean stupidity of imbecility.
The folly in the moral realm which BDB associates with the root brings
it within striking distance of BH נבל and נבלה (BDB, 614f).
Word-play
on Nabal’s name is in any case a feature of 1 Samuel 25. It comes, explicitly in
verse 25 already quoted: “נבל is his name and נבלה is with him.” There would seem to be another instance of play on
the name in verse 37 which, in talking about the wine “going out of Nabal”,
seems momentarily to think of him as a נֵבֶל, a wine-skin. (The commentators’ silence at this point could be
attributable to myopia or to powers of restraint which this writer obviously lacks.)
Finally, when the narrator describes Abigail as “of good understanding” (טובת-שכל, v. 3) is he not saying that she was all that her husband, so apply
named, was not? (Robert P. Gordon, “David’s Rise and Saul’s Demise: Narrative
Analogy in 1 Samuel 24-26,” in Hebrew Bible and Ancient Versions: Selected
Essays of Robert P. Gordon [Study for Old Testament Study Series; London:
Routledge, 2016], 13-14)
Word-play
features in the Old Testament narrative in Shakespearian proportions. It is
impossible to do justice to all that might be included under this catch-all
title, but there are three variations on the theme to which attention will be
drawn.
1
Leitwort. Martin Buber and Franz Rosenzweig used the term to describe
situations in which a word or root recurs, in any of its possible grammatical
forms or derivatives, throughout a narrative. By this means a theme is
introduced and sustained as the keyword echoes at one point and another in the
developing story. One of the best-known examples is the occurrence of berākâ
(“blessing”) and the root bārak (“bless”), and also of bekōrâ
(“birthright”), in the Jacob cycle in Genesis. The occurrences of the word nāgid
(“prince, leader”) and of the apparently cognate verb higgîd (“tell”) in
the account of Saul’s anointing as nāgîd by Samuel (I Samuel 9-10) are
of a similar order. There is thereby produces a stereophonic effect: we remain
aware that the sinuous story is first and foremost about the appointing of a nāgîd
for Israel threatened by the Philistines.
2
Pun. There are puns in plenty in the Old Testament. Pun is responsible
for a kind of “gallows humour” creeping into the account of the interpretation
of the dreams of the butler and baker in Genesis 40. The butler is assured that
the Pharaoh will “lift up his head” and restore him to his former position, but
to the doubtless optimistic baker who (presumably) has heard this comforting
message Joseph says that the Pharaoh will also “lift up his head”—from off him!
Another punt in similarly playful vein comes in I Samuel 25 in the story of Nabal
who celebrated his sheep-shearing with excessive zeal. There is serious
word-play on his name in the chapter (v. 25), but a less-observed and less
serious instance of the same occurs in v. 37 in reference to Nabal’s recovery
from his indulgence: “And in the morning, when the wine had gone out of Nabal .
. . “ Since Hebrew has a noun nēbel meaning “wine-skin, bottle”, it is
not difficult to appreciate that here Nabal is being treated as a wine-skin. Moreover,
the verb is well suited to the pun, for if bread may be said to “go from the
bag” (i.e. “run out”, I Samuel 9:7) it seems idiomatically correct to
say that wine “goes out” from the wine-skin.
3.
Ironic repetition. The ironic repetition of words or phrases is
relatively common in the Old Testament and is a kind of word-play easily
distinguished from Leitwort and pun. An example from II Samuel 11 will
make the point clear. As a result of David’s instructions to Joab, Uriah the
Hittite has been put in a position of danger and has lost his life. When the
report reaches David he replies (literally): “Do not let this matter be evil in
your eyes” (v. 25). Of course not, for now the king is able to take Bathsheba
as a wife. Two verses later, however, it is disclosed that “the thing that
David had done was evil in the eyes of the Lord”. The contrast is pronounced
and deliberate. Now, granted that is the two statements were not in such a
close relationship we might well render them by idiomatically distinct English equivalents,
nevertheless is there not a case here for preserving the literal correspondence
of the Hebrew? Is not some of the force of the concluding statement lost if
with, for example, RSV we read in the one verse, “Do not let this matter
trouble you”, and in the other, “But the thing that David had done displeased
the Lord”? (Robert P. Gordon, “Simplicity of the Highest Cunning: Narrative Art
in the Old Testament,” in Ibid., 29-30)
The following comes from "Saklu," in John A. Brinkman, Miguel Civil, Ignace J. Gelb, A. Leo Oppenheim, and Erica Reiner, eds., The Assyrian Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, 21 vols. (Chicago: The Oriental Institute, 1984): 15:80-81 (click to enlarge):
