The new Abnormal Interests is obviously a work in progress.
Oswald Loretz was a preeminent student of all things Ugaritic and of the ancient Near East more generally. His individual body of work is massive. When combined with the work he did in partnership with Manfried Dietrich, his contribution is almost unbelievable. My personal library has several works he wrote or edited. One of these I consult very frequently. I’m glad to know the others are on my shelves when I need them. Oswald Loretz, I never met you but I will miss you. The world of ancient Near Eastern scholarship will miss you.
Via Jack Sasson
It’s been a long time since I posted so I thought I’d post something abnormal if not abnormally interesting. Here are five omens from Šumma ālu tablet 6:28-32
DIŠ É si-ir-šu BABBAR UKÚ-in
If a house’s plaster is white – he will become poor.
DIŠ É si-ir-šu GI6(MI) NU DÙG-ub ŠÀ-bi
If a house’s plaster is black – unhappiness of heart.
DIŠ É si-ir-šu SI.A(SU5) EN É BI i-šar-ri
If a house’s plaster is red, the owner of that house will become rich.
DIŠ É si-ir-šu SIG7 [. . .] ir-x-x
If a house its plaster is green . . . .
DIŠ É si-ir-šu BABBAR GI6(MI) SI.A(SU5) SIG7 la mit-gur-tu4 EN É BI INIM É-GAL UŠ-di
If a house’s plaster is white, black, red, and green – discord; the palace will make a claim on the owner of that house.
Based on a near duplicate (K 45+ [CT 40 1-4] rev.:9), the portent of the forth omen, the green one, may be something like niziqtu, “grief.”
I’ve been looking at colors in omens for a couple of weeks and I’m not sure exactly where all this is going. For now I will simply observe that white does not portend good fortune in all these kinds of omens. The first on above for example. I read somewhere that it did. I know where I read it – more than one place in fact. I just don’t want to fully document all this now. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Yes I know that I should have said “red-brown” instead of “red” and “green-yellow” instead of “green” but I’m not trying to be all that technical for now. I may have more to say on this as I study it more. You’ll have to excuse me now; I’m off to make sure the folks plastering my house red are doing a good job. I sure don’t want any others colors showing through.
How should I understand the name of the scribe who crafted the now fragmentary Akkadian account of the Flood (RS 25.421) from Ugarit? The first line of the colophon reads ŠU mSIG5.dGÌR.UNU.GAL, “(By the) hand of . . . ” – well by the hand of somebody. The same scribe’s name appears to also be written mSIG5.dMAS.MAS and mSIG5.dKAL. He likely worked at Ugarit during the reigns of Ammittamrru II, Ibrianu and Niqmaddu III.
The same signs I transliterated mSIG5.dGÌR.UNU.GAL are sometimes transliterated mSIG5.dNÈ.IRI11(x).GAL. Various scholars have preferences in this matter but those preferences are not based on the cuneiform signs themselves.
Let’s start with the theophoric element, dGÌR.UNU.GAL. This and dMAS.MAS are rather common writings for the Mesopotamian god Nergal. But in the pantheon texts from Ugarit (RS 1.017:27, 24.264:26, 20.024:26, 24.642:8) dGÌR.UNU.GAL equates to rsp. Not too surprising that Mesopotamian Nergal would equate to Ugaritic Rašap/Rašpu. There’s really nothing controversial about this. A dozen personal names from Ugarit have rsp as a theophoric element and either dGÌR.UNU.GAL or dMAS.MAS generally represents rsp in Akkadian texts from Ugarit. For example, alphabetic ilršp is written mdAN. MAS.MAS in RS 17.61:18.
Now for the first element: SIG5 generally stands for Akkadian damqu. Akkadian damqu is (nearly) semantically equivalent to Ugaritic ncm. Both mean “good, pleasant, beautiful.” We see mnu-ma-re-ša-ip in a list of 16 otherwise unidentified people (RS 2007:2). This is not necessarily our scribe but the name does represent a spelled out version of a very similar name in a western (Ugaritic?) form. [Note for later reference the u vowel in nu-ma-.] The alphabetic place name ykncm is written URUia-ku-SIG5 in RS 11:800:13’ and elsewhere. Finally one should note mSIG5–na (RS 17.150+17.34:36 and elsewhere) which almost certainly equates to the Ugaritic personal name ncmn.
For the record, Nougayrol (Ug 5, 303) rendered our scribe’s name Na’amrašap; Lambert and Millard (Atra-Ḫasīs, 133) rendered it Mudammiq-Nergal; and Huehnergard (The Akkadian of Ugarit, 344) rendered it Nucmu-Rašpu. On this Münniche (The God Resheph in the Ancient Near East, 145, n240) says, “Lambert & Millard 1969, 132-133 translate the name as Mudammiq-Nergal, which is improbable at Ugarit both because of the Mesopotamian form of the god’s name and the reading of the sign SIG5.”
So how should I render mSIG5.dGÌR.UNU.GAL? I’m not sure. If I think this scribe is from Mesopotamia as Naḫiš-šalmu likely was, something like Mudammiq-Nergal might be on or near the mark. Such a name is known from Mesopotamia. But if I think he was born and raised at Ugarit or at least in the West then I think I need to render it Nucmu-Rašpu or the like.
Now if you thought that was fun, I bet you can’t wait for my post on the line in RS 22.121’s colophon that follows ŠU mSIG5.dGÌR.UNU.GAL. It reads S[A]G(?) dŠU.GAR .DURU2.NA or something very much like that. These concerns are diversions from the issue I’m really working on. Maybe I’ll get past these diversions and have something abnormally interesting to say about the Flood account as known at Ugarit.
Update: January 16, 2014
I just noticed that I posted the complete text and my translation of this tablet in August of 2010. What a memory! I still have a couple of things I what to say that I didn’t say then but it may take me a while to get them together.
Last week Claude Mariottini posted a discussion of the problem with תֻכִּיִּֽים, thukkiyyîm, the last word in 1 Kings 10:22, (and 2 Chronicles 9:21). Peacocks, baboons, no one knows for sure what it means. It is surely a foreign word but from where? What Claude didn’t say is that the last three words, שֶׁנְהַבִּ֥ים וְקֹפִ֖ים וְתֻכִּיִּֽים, in I Kings 10:22 and 2 Chronicles 9:21 are all problematic in one way or another and have been for a long time. Check out Claude’s post for various modern renderings.
The predominate textural tradition in the Old Greek translation of the end of 1 Kings 10:22 reads και λιθων τορευτων και πελεκητων, “and carved/embossed and hewn stones.” Codex Alexandrinus reads the more traditional, “οδοντων ελεφαντινων και πιθηκων και ταωνων, “elephant teeth and apes and ταωνων” whatever ταωνων means. According to LSJ9 1763, they are some kind of birds native to India (peacocks?) but also perhaps some kind of fish from elsewhere! The Old Greek of 2 Chronicles 9:21 reads, οδοντων ελεφαντινων και πιθηκων, “elephant teeth and apes.” Assuming it was in their vorlage, they took a pass on תֻכִּיִּֽים, thukkiyyîm.
Oh yeah, and then there’s Josephus (Ant. VIII, 7.2 ) who references the passage, πολὺς ἐλέφας Αἰθίοπές τε καὶ πίθηκοι, “much elephant (teeth?), Ethiopians, and apes.”
Given the right set of presuppositions, all of these various understandings can be explained. “Justified” would be too strong a word. A few of the explanations stretch folk etymology to its limits or depend on rather unlikely scribal errors.
The bottom line: by the time of the Old Greek translation of 1 Kings 10:22, no one was sure what these words meant. No wonder we continue to have our doubts.
The other day I plotted the distribution of Ugaritic school tablets within the Royal Palace at Ugarit. Today I do the same thing for the Akkadian and Sumerian scholarly texts found there.
Considering the large number of Akkadian texts found in the Royal Palace, the first thing one notices about the scholarly texts is how few of them there are to plot – 7 if you count the one that is a surface find. Second, one notices that all these texts are advanced. Texts like Ḫarra=ḫubullu and Lú 1 come quite late in the standard scribal curriculum. There is not TU-TA-TI, a Silbenalphabet A or a Sa Syllabary or Sa Vocabulary among them. These more elementary texts are all well represented in other centers of learning at Ugarit. Except for RS 16.364 and, of course, the surface fine, the scholarly texts from the Royal Palace were found among or very near large archives.
What to make of this? Again, I’m not sure. However, it does appear that Akkadian was taught in the Royal Palace at Ugarit. But to whom? Arguments from absence are dangerous but the presences of advanced texts to the exclusion of elementary ones leads me to speculate that the Akkadian students in the Palace were advanced students, perhaps apprentice scribers, who took their elementary training elsewhere.
I’m still messing around with the question of why half of the abecedaries found at Ugarit were found in the Royal Palace. Part of the project involves plotting the find locations. I’ve plotted find spots over Yon’s map of the Royal Palace.
Some of you will note that I have not included KTU 1.79 and KTU 1.80 on this plot. While some may see these two texts as school texts, I don’t. I see them as the work of a literate professional who lacked (full?) scribal training. Others may question the appropriateness of a few of the other tablets I do plot (KTU 193 for example). So do I.
The locations plotted on this map are at best approximate. Room location is reasonably accurate but exact locations within a room are not. One thing to notice is that there are two tablet clusters on this plot. The most obvious cluster of Ugaritic school texts in coincident with the Southwest Archives. It is in this area that archaeologists uncovered the tablet with equates alphabetic letters and syllabic equivalents (KTU 5.14). This archive is dominated by Ugaritic texts that are clearly not school texts but the work of professional scribes working as scribes rather than master teachers. Another cluster is the area just east of the Royal Plaza in the vicinity of the West Archives. Remember, in both cases, it is likely that tablets came from upstairs locations when the Palace collapsed. The other three school tablets, all abecedaries, are scattered around without clear association with each other or either of the two clusters. KTU 5.9 may be associated with the Annex Archives but the other two do not appear to be associated with any well-defined archive.
Below is a plot of the Location of the Royal Palace archives.
What can we learn from this? I’m not sure as yet. My views on this are in flux. My current working hypothesis is that two classes of students were taught to read and write Ugaritic in alphabetic script within the Royal Palace. I now imagine that those who studied Ugaritic in the vicinity of the Southwest archives were apprentice scribes well advanced in Akkadian but just learning Ugaritic. I tend to associate the other locations with a different class of student, possibly members of the royal family and/or palace officials other than scribes. I won’t recite my arguments for these opinions now. Suffice to say that my agreements are rather weak – barely strong enough to trigger self-confirming bias. I’m working to see how my arguments will develop as I look at other evidence. I will plot the find locations of the Akkadian scholarly texts found in the Royal Palace for a future post.
There are many pretty and winning things about the human race. It is perhaps the poorest of all the inventions of all the gods, but it has never suspected it once. There is nothing prettier than its naïve and complacent appreciation of itself. It comes out frankly and proclaims, without bashfulness, or any sign of a blush, that it is the noblest work of God. It has had a billion opportunities to know better, but all signs fail with this ass. I could say harsh things about it, but I cannot bring myself to do it—it is like hitting a child.
I think I will ask Santa for a copy.
They seem to be in a realm of their own. At least according to Sanjay Srivastava’s correlation they are.
As the father of two working professional philosophers I’m not at all surprised. They are in a class of their own: among the smartest and the hottest. Notice that those folks who study religion are the best looking, even better looking than philosophers. But when it comes to intelligence they are barely smarter than political scientists. Head over to The Hardest Science for the background story.
Uziel and Zanton read this . . . r(?)yhw bn bnh and suggest that it might be understood as “[Zecha]riah the son of Benaiah (ריהו בן בניה),” a name mentioned in 2 Chronicles 20:14. The Israel Antiquities Authority announcement is at least a little equivocal on this, “The first letter of the ceramic bowl’s partially preserved inscription in ancient Hebrew script is broken and is therefore difficult to read, but appears to be the letter ר;” “The most similar name to our inscription is Zechariah the son of Benaiah, the father of the Prophet Jahaziel [Emphases added].” And Uziel and Zanton say, “If we consider the possibility that we are dealing with an unvowelized or ‘defective’ spelling of the name בניה (Benaiah), then what we have before us is the name ‘…ריהו בן בניה’ [[Emphases added].”
The article itself points to the two largest problems with the identification. The spelling of בניה is defective and the first readable letter may not be an r. In fact, what can be read of it looks very similar to the two unquestionable bs in the inscription. Notice that the tail extends across the lower part of the y like the other two bs extent across the lower part of the following ns. If I am correct and I may not be, the tail of an r generally extends straight down. So I read the inscription as . . . b(?)yhw bn bnh and understand it as meaning . . . well, I’m not sure what it means.