Orwell predicts the advent of AI—well, sort of…

As I have tried to show, modern writing at its worst does not consist in picking out words for the sake of their meaning and inventing images in order to make the meaning clearer. It consists in gumming together long strips of words which have already been set in order by someone else, and making the results presentable by sheer humbug. The attraction of this way of writing is that it is easy. It is easier—even quicker, once you have the habit—to say In my opinion it is not are unjustifiable assumption that than to say I think. if you use readymade phrases, you not only don’t have to hunt about for words; you also don’t have to bother with the rhythms of your sentences, since these phrases are generally so arranged as to be more or less euphonious.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 165

Rules for clear writing

A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions, thus: What am I trying to say? What words will express it? What image or idiom will make it clearer? Is this image fresh enough to have an effect? And he will probably ask himself two more: Could I put it more shortly? Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly? But you are not obliged to go to all this trouble. You can shirk it by simply throwing your mind open and letting the ready-made phrases come crowding in. They will construct your sentences for you-—even think your thoughts for you, to a certain extent-—-and at need they will perform the important service of partially concealing your meaning even from yourself. It is at this point that the special connection between politics and the debasement of language becomes clear.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 165

Heaven forbid that you define it!

The word Fascism has now no meaning except in so far as it signifies “something not desirable.” The words democracy, socialism, freedom, patriotic, realistic, justice, have each of them several different meanings which cannot be reconciled with one another. In the case of a word like democracy, not only is there no agreed definition, but the attempt to make one is resisted from all sides. It is almost universally felt that when we call a country democratic we are praising it: consequently the defenders of every kind of regime claim that it is a democracy, and fear that they might have to stop using the word if it were tied down to any one meaning. Words of this kind are often used in a consciously dishonest way.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 162

<idle musing>
Not a whole lot has changed in 80 years, has it? Take a look around you. Words are thrown around whose meanings are purposefully obscured. Nebulous things that can be used as weapons against whoever or whatever you deem to be the "enemy"—all the while, the real enemy laughs at the deceit you bought into. Wherever you fall in the political spectrum, if you consider someone an enemy, rethink your self-identification as a Christian!
</idle musing>

More on writing clearly (Orwell)

This mixture of vagueness and sheer incompetence is the most marked characteristic of modern English prose, and especially of any kind of political writing. As soon as certain topics are raised, the concrete melts into the abstract and no one seems able to think of turns of speech that are not hackneyed: prose consists less and less of words chosen for the sake of their meaning, and more and more of phrases tacked together like the sections of a prefabricated hen-house.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 159

<idle musing>
Ain't that the truth!
</idle musing>

About that waw conversive…

Unfortunately, this role [as a stative or adjective] has commonly been misunderstood in the past, and this potential function of the perfect has been overlooked in light of the belief that there is some property inherent in the waw to make the perfect act as though it were some other aspect/tense (the “waw conversive”). Some will even go so far as to say that a perfect prefixed by a “waw conversive” ought to be understood as an imperfect! If that were the case, the Hebrew authors had a perfectly fine morpheme to express the meaning of an imperfect: an imperfect. So, why would an author not use an imperfect verb to express an imperfect meaning? That is really where the question lies.—Grant Testut, “Conjunction and Disjunction,” in ”Where Shall Wisdom Be Found? A Grammatical Tribute to Professor Stephen A. Kaufman, 277–78 (emphasis original)

A gloss does not a meaning make

Now, having arrived at a second plausible gloss, we are no closer to the meaning of the Niphal, because a workable gloss should not be confused with the meaning of the Hebrew term.—Steven W. Boyd, in "Where Shall Wisdom Be Found?" A Grammatical Tribute to Professor Stephen A. Kaufman, 122

Going Deeper with Biblical Hebrew—a review

Going Deeper with Biblical Hebrew: An Intermeiate Study of the Grammar and Syntax of the Old Testment, by H. H. Hardy II and Matthew McAffee. Brentwood, TN: B&H Academic, 2024.

When I read that Chip Hardy and Matthew McAffee had an intermediate Hebrew grammar coming out, I was curious. They are both excellent scholars and both teach Hebrew, so I was fairly certain it would be of value (see disclaimer below). Having had a copy now for a few weeks and working through it, I can assure you that I wasn’t disappointed. It is well-written and solidly grounded in modern linguistic theory. As I told them on my initial glance through it, it’s the second-year grammar I wish I had access to when I was learning Hebrew many long years ago. But enough introduction. Let’s take a deeper look.

First, the book is well-made, with a Smyth binding that will hold up through a semester of use and beyond as you refer to it over the years. The type face is clear and crisp, large enough to be easy on the eyes, but not too large. The layout is clear, with a generous use of tables to illustrate things. There is an abundance of Hebrew examples illustrating their points.

The contents are divided up into three parts, the first being a general introduction to the language and a chapter on textual criticism, written by John Meade. The second part (chs. 3–6, almost 200 pages) covers the verbal system (ch. 3), verbal stems (ch. 4), the prefix and suffix conjugations (ch. 5), and volitives (ch. 6). The third part (chs. 7–11, almost 300 pages) covers nouns and noun phrases (ch. 7), pronouns, adjectives, and participles (ch. 8), infinitives and temporal clauses (ch. 9), conjunctions, adverbs, and other particles (ch. 10), and prepositions (ch. 11). Three guided lessons (textual criticism, semantic analysis [word study], and syntactic analysis), four appendices (continuing with Biblical Hebrew, vocabulary, English-Hebrew list, and glossary), an ample bibliography, and three indexes (name, subject [with Hebrew words appearing together under the entry “Hebrew words”], and scripture index) round out the volume.

Each chapter begins with a brief introduction, then a section entitled “Going Deeper with…,” which consists of a look at a scripture passage, highlighting how knowing Hebrew sheds more light on it, specifically by highlighting the elements to be covered in that chapter. The selections are well-chosen and designed to pique the interest of the student. This is followed by an enumeration of the chapter objectives, another short introduction and then the meat of the chapter. Usually they begin by illustrating the points being made via English examples before diving into the Hebrew. As I mentioned, there are numerous examples from the Hebrew Bible highlighting each of their points. Footnotes provide a bibliography for the student who wants to go further, as well as a bit more background in some cases. Grammatical terms that might be unfamiliar to the student are underlined and defined in the glossary at the end of the volume.

Each chapter ends with exercises consisting of Hebrew to English translation (with instructions not just to translate, but to parse verbs and make other notations based on the theme of the chapter), a selection of sentences to translate from English to Hebrew, and a guided reading of a scripture passage, with vocabulary and notes to assist. Considering that this is a second-year grammar, the notes should be more than adequate.

The only note of concern I have is the chapter on textual criticism assumes access to works that only a well-equipped seminary or graduate school would have. I have a fairly well-stocked library, but I certainly don’t own the Göttingen LXX volumes (although I wish I could justify them!). Consequently, it’s obvious this chapter was written with the seminarian/graduate student in mind. That being said, the principles he lays out can be applied with the tools you do have. And the bibliography supplies links to public domain tools such as Kennicott and the Hexapla, which mitigates some of problems of not having access to a research library. And maybe it will spur the student on to learning other languages, such as Aramaic (for the targumim), Syriac, or Latin. Worse things could happen! And some might even decide to splurge and buy the Göttingen LXX on Accordance or Logos. (I admit, that one is tempting to me sometimes, even though I prefer print for reference works like that!)

The text is remarkably free of typographical errors. I understand that they are planning to post an errata sheet, but for now the only egregious error that needs to be noted is at the top of page 151, where the root גדל is reversed. Once the errata sheet is posted, I’ll add a link here.

In summary, this is an excellent second-year grammar that adequately prepares the student to be ready to more easily read the Hebrew Bible, while also preparing them to be able to read and understand more advanced works, such as IBHS or, to explore more historical grammar, Eric Reymond’s Intermediate Biblical Hebrew Grammar, as well as giving them a solid foundation in modern linguistic approaches to Biblical Hebrew—which will also equip them to understand linguistic approaches to Biblical Greek and English. I heartily endorse this book and encourage you to add it to your library.

Disclaimer: I was given a free copy of the book with no obligation to review it.
Secondary disclaimer: I read and recommended for publication at Eisenbrauns Chip's dissertation on Hebrew prepositions, although in the end it was published by SBL Press. And, I copyedited Matthew's revised dissertation for Eisenbrauns in the ENEAC series. That's why I was excited to read this volume, but it didn't prejudice me toward it before reading it.

I love it! Hebrew humor

One should avoid several common misconceptions about meaning. First, meaning does not necessarily equal translation value. Words do not have identical semantic ranges in any two languages. Hebrew חסד may have some similar notions as English loyalty, but it is not identical in meaning or usage. A Hebrew market would not have a ḥesed-program for frequent shoppers.—Going Deeper with Biblical Hebrew, 590

Insights from Hebrew grammar

See also Gen 1:6, 9 (unmarked jussive), 11, 14, 20 (unmarked jussive), 22, 24. Note the shift in person for the creation of humanity in verse 26: נַֽעֲשֶׂה אָדָם; “Let us make man” (unmarked cohortative). Rather than the function of a performative jussive, the cohortative states the action that God is going to do. The act of creation is expressed in verse 27: וַיִּבְרָא אֱלֹהִים אֶת־הָֽאָדָם “God created man.” The use of the first-person verbal form contrasts with the indirect nature of the jussive, instead emphasizing God’s personal investment in the creation of humanity.—Going Deeper with Biblical Hebrew, 253 n. 61

Don't you just love the passive voice?

Ran across this quotation in a book I'm editing:

In [Rev 13] vv 5–7, the singular aorist passive verb ἐδόθη, ‘was given,’ occurs five times in the identical phrase καὶ ἐδόθη αὐτῷ, ‘and it was given’; in each instance the passive voice of the verb can be construed as a passive of divine activity, i.e., as a circumlocution for the direct mention of God as subject of the action of the verb. This makes it clear that John does not see the conflict between God and Satan (historically manifested in the conflict between Christians and the state) in terms of a cosmic dualism; rather he emphasizes the ultimate sovereignty and control of God over events that occur in the world.—David Aune, Revelation 6–16, WBC 52B (Dallas: Word, 1998) 743

Gotta love that!

But the grammar doesn't allow it!

I suggest that a better solution to the πίστις Χριστοῦ debate lies somewhere in the middle between “faith in Christ” and the “faithfulness of Christ.” I find the traditional “faith in Christ” position, though rich in heritage and safeguarding the call for a human response to the gospel, ultimately dissatisfying because it does not capture the participationist themes that Paul weaves into his theological discourse. However, the “faithfulness of Christ” option, overflowing with a vat of theological new wine, doesn’t work for those of us damned with too much knowledge of Greek grammar, and it seems like a theological overread.—Michael Bird, An Anomalous Jew: Paul among Jews, Greeks, and Romans, 143

Grammar fun!

This was on yesterday's Eisenbrauns Twitter feed.

For those of you who might not get it, a verbal system in a language typically is either tense (time) prominent, aspect prominent (type of action—continuous, intermittent, etc.), or mood prominent (command, wish, statement, etc.). What she is saying is that she got so engrossed in an aspect paper that she forgot all about tense. OK, it sounds flat when you have to explain it…

Just for (Hebrew) fun

I'm working on a first-year Hebrew grammar right now and ran across this little gem in the chapter on geminates:

note the second person masculine plural form תִּסַּבּוּ the dot in the ת is a dagesh lene, the dot in the ס is the assimilated nun, the dot in the ב is the doubling of the geminate root, and the dot in the ו is the sign of the shureq.

Fun stuff!

A bit of lexical information

עון [`wn] indicates both guilt and punishment (that is, it includes the offense and the consequence thereof), and these are not separated in Hebrew thinking.—Standing in the Breach, page 139n291

Summary of "deponent" verbs

Changing our categorization of -(θ)η- from the analogous English counterpart (passive) to a typologically attested middle form alters our view of Greek voice. Instead of seeing it as a passive marker with defective active outliers in an active-passive system, -(θ)η- is rightly treated as marking the less-transitive middle events—including passives—within a larger transitivity continuum in an active-middle system. The middle share of the space divides the labor across two morphological forms in the aorist and future compared to one in the present and perfect.—Rachel Aubrey in The Greek Verb Revisited

Middle voice (yes, in Greek)

Middle voice merges the energy source and energy endpoint into one participant. Instead of shifting between two participants to see the effects of the action, the middle gives undivided attention to the energy endpoint. This effectively increases its salience for the event construal. What happens to the affected participant is the most salient for our understanding of the event.—Rachel Aubrey in The Greek Verb Revisited

About those "deponent" verbs...

When -(θ)η- was first integrated into the aorist, it involved not just a change or affectedness for the subject, but a complete change of state. If we look back at the two predicate types involved, this includes the telic-transformative lexemes as well as the state predicates. It is this relationship between change-of-state/telicity with the perfective aspect of the aorist that defines the -(θ)η- in contrast with the other middle inflectional forms. The aorist perfective aspect aids in this process because it expresses the fulfillment of that change, so that the new state is fully reached or totally complete. If a middle form is used in the present stem (imperfective), it indicates that the subject is undergoing change but it does so as a progressive reaching of the state so that the change is not fully reached. This is a difference between ἐτήκετο “it was melting” in the imperfect and ἐτάκη “it melted” in the aorist. When used with the -(θ)η- aorist stem, the change is fully complete.—Rachel Aubrey in The Greek Verb Revisited

Kiss it good-bye

The relative decrease in the number of present imperatives in the Koine in comparison with Ancient Greek may be explained by two factors. In the first place, the present imperative of transformative (especially instantaneous) verbs is used only and exclusively when the speaker is excited. Apparently in those days a present imperative was more readily used when the action could be expressed by verbs that themselves denote duration or perspective. A present imperative is used only when the situation from which the order results is clear or has been made clear to the hearer. The subjective point of view from which the ancient Greek made his choice between the present and aorist imperative seems no longer to be known to the Koine. People are no longer able to voice the finest nuances of thoughts and feelings. Instead, they adhere to objective reality, and consequently express themselves more exactly, at least in this respect.—The Greek Imperative, pages 86–87

Present imperative in Koine

Apart from the present imperatives with a general sense and the present imperatives derived from non-transformative verbs, the present imperative in the Koine seems to be used only when both the speaker and the hearer have fully been informed of the situation on account of which the speaker decides that the action ordered has to be performed.—The Greek Imperative, page 85

<idle musing>
Hmmm...this one is testable. What do you think? Is it true in the NT? Could this be why Paul starts out with the theological justification of his imperatives? And sometimes starts out with aorist ones, as well?

Makes sense. But what of 3rd person imperatives? Is that a more polite version of a 2nd person imperative? That's what I think, anyway...
</idle musing>

Imperatives of motion

In Ancient Greek...many examples of present imperatives derived from verbs expressing motion are to be found. In the Koine literature, however, they are much more conspicuous, because so few present imperatives of other verbs occur. One even gets the impression that the Koine favours the use of the present imperative to express an order involving motion.—The Greek Imperative, page 82