Purim: The varying interpretations of the Book of Esther

Purim – and again one reads the Book of Esther. Few are the books whose import has been so radically reconceived across history.

First written to promote the holiday, the Book of Esther was doubly reinterpreted across its first 500 years: from secularity into religiosity (through the medium of midrash, adding prayers and observance) and from the battle against Haman’s ethnic hatred into a moment of relief from the new Hellenic-style antisemitism. The new relevance and the religious acceptability ended controversy about the book, and it was finally canonized.

In the Diaspora, into the Middle Ages interpretations continued to evolve. While doubling down on the insistence that the heroes were observant Jews (in one extreme story, God creates a “spirit” to sleep with the king in Esther’s place!), the community also found here guidance on how to get along with its host country.

Christianity moved in other ways: from early apathy, to allegories applying it to early Christianity, to later general moral advice, and occasionally to association with the Jews among those suffering religious oppression. With the birth of Protestantism, Luther’s antisemitism spilled over into a virulent condemnation of the book, deemed unworthy of the Bible, which then influenced the earliest academic studies.

In the mid-20th century, a confluence of events and modern concerns created a flashpoint toward new interpretations. As the emerging understanding of the Holocaust made antisemitism an anathema among civilized societies, the need for a book confronting antisemitism seemed to wane, and other issues gained prominence, as follows. (Italics indicate citations from commentaries.)

Diaspora (“an uphill apologia for Diaspora Jews”).

Jewish independence in Israel reopened the question of the relationship to the Diaspora. Esther was the earliest biblical book reflective of that issue. The original text, however, was somewhat ambiguous: Israel is ignored and the Diaspora is accepted, but it is unclear whether that represents enthusiasm, long-range accommodation or temporary sufferance.

Unsurprisingly, modern commentaries split radically on the book’s message. Some Diaspora interpretations celebrate the “new normality,” and some Israeli commentaries find therein a biting critique of Diaspora life (e.g., the secularism, the irrelevance of Israel, subservient characteristics and the ever-present dangers). The two approaches could scarcely differ more.

Gender (“I have never met a woman who liked... Esther” vs “the source of empowerment is... the voice of a Jewish woman”).

Other concerns have also been brought to the table, one being gender equality. Some delight in the book, citing Esther’s growth from passivity into assertiveness, her leadership, and her pleasing character. Some despise the book, ruing her use of feminine wiles to gain her ends, and her constant subservience to men – Mordecai, the eunuchs, the king. Again, the approaches could not differ more.

Violence (“Too much violence and vengeance for a religious work”).

Some interpretations broadly condemn the vengeful Jews (partially an inheritance of the old antisemitic rejections). However, the Jews in the book were the victims. They did not initiate but reacted. Esther, in fact, did not even request self-defense but royal relief. Only the second day of fighting in Shushan goes unexplained, and one can assume a military need.

Religiosity (“the most secular document of the Bible” vs “God is present in the story”).

The religious stance of this book was always problematic, and it remains so. The book is devoid of observance and any mention of God, even in places where it would be expected.

Two millennia have brought varied interpretations, ranging from a sensed subtext of religiosity to a transfer of all control to human hands. These differences reemerge in modernity, with two new wrinkles: Some religious readings now emphasize parallel levels of causation, divine and human; and some secular commentaries celebrate a text that speaks to modern secularists.

Burlesque (“It is a cartoon”).

There is one further modern approach, but it takes a wonderful insight too far.

Humor has been discovered in the text, from the king’s blundering, to Persian excesses, to the king’s ridiculous efforts to control women. Even the Haman story, serious in the extreme, focuses on an overinflated character.

However, this insight has led to defining the book as a “comedy” (that is, “funny”), “farce” or “burlesque.” But this book is basically deadly serious. It relates the story of a threatened genocide, and large portions of it cannot be seen as a comedy. The major advantage of this approach is that shortcomings of the book can be dismissed as part of the farce. But this description is simply not accurate! The “utility” of the approach does not make it correct, even if repeated in several commentaries. Humor is present in this book, but it does not define it.

ALL OF these new concentrations seem to reflect a principle stated once in another context by Thomas Mann – “a great truth is a truth whose opposite is also a truth.” Perhaps one can read the dangers of the Diaspora along with its acceptance; the appreciation of Esther’s liberation with its limits; a cultural treasure that can be both theocentric and secular; violence that is necessary but perhaps overdone; comedy that exists but pales before tragedy. But none of that duality is necessarily the proper reaction to the book. Ambiguity may also be the invitation to the reader to adopt one stance or another in each instance, as so many commentators have done. Masterpieces of literature tend to draw those reactions, and after all, this is “beautifully composed by a master artisan, as if it were a multicolored Persian carpet” as one commentator put it.

The Book of Esther is an ongoing challenge not only in terms of the matters discussed above, but also in terms of family relations, responsibility, the nature of celebration, the import of records, the nature of historical “truth,” etc. It is no accident that we return to it with renewed curiosity, and we remain indebted to those who re-explored it in the past, allowing us to do so once again. ■

The writer has just published The Book of Esther: A Commentary and History (Schechter Institute, Gefen Publishing). He is a former president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies.