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CARNIVAL, LAWLESSNESS AND SOVEREIGNTY
Lawlessness is the most striking aspect of Purim festivities. Those who are normally law-abiding become riotous; men who adhere to Deuteronomyâs prohibition against cross-dressing nonetheless may be found in womenâs clothing;1 those known for their sobriety get drunk. The story of Esther is celebrated at Purim as one of reversals â mourning is turned to laughter and sorrow to joy. This turn in fortunes is given the Hebrew term, nahapok hu, meaning âthe contrary occurredâ, and the festival enacts this trope of reversal through various topsy-turvy activities.2 Authorities are questioned, liturgy is parodied and normal laws are suspended so that gambling, cross-dressing and drunkenness are not only allowed, but insisted upon in rabbinical law. It is one of the great ironies of Purim that it is a mitzvah, an obligation, to neglect law on Purim.
Rules on Purim observance are outlined in early Jewish writings. The tractate Megillah of the Mishnah focuses on rules for the reading of the scroll, for fasting and the timing of the festival (its exact timing within and outside of cities, for example).3 The tractate outlines obligations of lawlessness in ïŹne detail, so that even the act of drunkenness comes with speciïŹc instruction. You must get so drunk, explains the tractate, that you cannot differentiate between the phrases âblessed be Mordecaiâ and âcursed be Hamanâ.4 Maimonides in his twelfth-century Mishneh Torah outlines the rules in even ïŹner detail, explaining the way the scroll should be unrolled and folded to resemble a letter, that one should not work on Purim if possible, and elaborating on the exact rules for the giving of gifts, or portions of food, to one another and to the poor.5
The embracing of lawlessness in this, the most popular of Jewish festivals, means it is observed with enthusiasm by the most and the least orthodox. Shari Troy explains in her ethnological studies that the Bobover Hasidim of New York approach drunkenness with a devotional seriousness. In the purimshpil performed by the Bobover community, live frogs amplify the chaos.6 The practices of normally law-abiding ultra-orthodox communities are indicative of activities across other Jewish groups. In yeshivas, pupils take the place of their rabbis, enjoying a day of teasing and mimicking normally revered teachers. Although characterized by lawlessness, it is, then, a festival shaped by and under the rule of law. The focus on lawlessness at Purim seems to suggest that there is a place for lawlessness, an importance to lawlessness, even within the implicit endorsement and valuing of law itself. So, why might lawlessness be important for those participants or legislators of Purim practice who are otherwise committed to law?
Fittingly, at least to the obligation to drink, many commentators explain the meaning of Purim lawlessness as an expression of merry making, so that the joyfulness over reprieve from danger leads logically into licentiousness. In the celebration of the aversion of disaster, seriousness and strict legality are merely disregarded. So, the cross-dressing that became associated with Purim in contravention of the law in Deut. 22.5, forbidding the wearing of the other sexâs clothes, is sanctioned to âenhance the joyousness of the festivalâ.7 This is not lawlessness per se, not a disregard of law completely, the argument goes, but a softening of law in the name of frivolity. Parodic rewritings of liturgy emerged in the twelfth century, which, Philip Goodman reminds us was the âgolden ageâ of Jewish literature. The oldest example of a literary parody takes the form of Hymn for the First Night of Passover by Meier ben Isaac who turns the normally pious hymn form into a drinking song. Menahem ben Aaronâs Hymn for the Night of Purim epitomizes Purim licentiousness: âThis night [of Purim] is a night for drunkards, a night for wine drinking and intoxication⊠The day of Purim is a day of feasting and drinking and merrymaking.â8 It becomes normal, on Purim, to turn even the most serious of religious forms into a joke.
Ultra-orthodox writings on Purim draw on mystical teaching to defend that most obvious of transgressions, drunkenness. It is viewed as a refusal of rationality to invoke instead an alternative messianic world of divine order. Whereas Jews may be experiencing oppression on earth, in this alternative divine world order they are the chosen people. Purim is a time during which the gates to heaven are opened to reveal a divine space that is beyond and above human laws. Purim lawlessness is therefore a signal to a transcendent order, recalling that there are other, divine laws at work in the universe that will one day prevail over repressive human authorities and thinking. Lack of order testiïŹes to the superiority of divine ways. Lawlessness becomes a formal testament to a transcendent order beyond human understanding and in which exist no such easy oppositions as good and tragedy. Here lawlessness points to a messianic truth of a future, restored state in which Godâs order prevails; or, as Meir Belsky expresses it: â[Purim] miracles are rooted at the end of time alone and express another, incomprehensible worldâ.9 Pinchas Stolper expresses the same sentiment that drinking is âpart of a process of acknowledging our inability to know or fathom the presence of the hidden hand of G-d in our lives and in world eventsâ. He goes on: âThe underlying theme of Purim is âad de-lo yadaâ, the sublimation of our ability to comprehend eventsâ.10
The most common interpretive frame within contemporary scholarly writing on Purim is that of Mikhail Bakhtinâs theory of the carnivalesque. AndrĂ© LaCoqueâs book, Esther Regina: A Bakhtinian Reading, of 2008 applies carnivalesque theory to Purim and Esther, following Kenneth Craigâs 1995 book Reading Esther: A Case for the Literary CarnivalÂesque.11 Bakhtinâs carnivalesque has remained the dominant frame for Purim for decades, despite some compelling arguments against it, which I will turn to in a moment. Perhaps so many critics ïŹnd the carnivalesque appealing because it offers an explanation for Purimâs stranger elements in that it is both seemingly harmless â a mere matter of fun and playfulness â and expresses a serious rejection of the status quo. After all, Bakhtinâs careful delineation of carnivalâs upheaval ïŹts with the kind of oppressive diaspora experience invoked at Purim: a rejection of law and order to express a desired freedom from repressive government. Such lawlessness ïŹts very well with the rejection of authoritarian hierarchy and oppression.
Bakhtinâs understanding of carnival law reads lawlessness as a style, a formal expression and embodiment of freedom, an âaesthetic for democracyâ as Ken Hirschkkop has called it.12 Bakthin writes:
As a folk style, carnival represents a âsecond life outside of ofïŹcialdomâ, the more anarchic âculture of the marketplaceâ.14 For Bakthin, the marketplace is a representative folk space where regulation does not reach and other, freer, kinds of life can be lived. Sellers and buyers jostle and bargain, gossip is shared and high and low are less distinguishable than in other more regulated areas of life. Repressive regimes are annulled by the very style of carnivalesque revelry as it offers an aesthetic in which restrictions and boundaries are dissolved and Bakthin paints a world of near-vertiginous movement in its: âpeculiar logic of the inside out, of the âturnaboutâ, of a continual shifting from top to bottom, from front to rear, of numerous parodies and travesties, humiliations, profanations, cosmic crownings and uncrowningsâ.15 As a literary and festival style, the carnivalesque is easily applicable to the tropes of reversal, parody, profanation and dethroning that are so typical of Purim and the story of Esther itself. The carnivalesque also ïŹts well with the older formulations of lawlessness in Jewish traditional writings. It testiïŹes to a transcendent or ânatural lawâ that undermines the efïŹcacy of human authority. It invokes a messianic future in which this transcendent law is ïŹnally recognized and effective.
Yet, as deïŹned by Bakhtin, the carnivalesque is not a true overturning of hierarchies but rather affords a dissolution only on a conceptual level. It is because of carnivalesqueâs boundary-dissolving impulse that some Purim scholars have identiïŹed a problem with interpreting the festivalâs lawlessness through Bakhtinâs theory. As an aesthetic of narrative or festival activities, the carnivalesque complicates and dissolves hierarchical structures and in this way does not map onto the boundary-marking activities of Purim.
Before I turn to critics who contest the use of the term âcarnivalesqueâ for Purim, I want ïŹrst to explore the appeal of the carnivalesque as a theoretical frame. What is intriguing is the continued invocation of the carnivalesque despite Purimâs clear demarcation of boundaries, antithetical to Bakhtinâs assertion that in carnival âthe individual feels that he is an indissoluble part of the collectivity, a member of the peopleâs mass bodyâ.16 Perhaps it is Bakthinâs championing of a folk aesthetic that means his theory appeals so much to scholars of Purim. Invoking an âauthenticâ national culture in the indigenous folk culture has been a common way in which to bolster an organic, marginal identity against ofïŹcialdom and the status quo. Ahuva Belkin thoughtfully identiïŹes the early purimshpiln as âSaturnalian carnivalequeâ, drawing on Bakhtinâs identiïŹcation of the Saturnalia as the source of carnival.17 The similarities are indeed striking as Belkinâs analysis reveals: âThe popular customs manifested a spirit of anarchy and rebellion, a world of chaos and the breaking of taboos â a pattern of behavior totally out of tune with the puritanical nature of Judaismâ.18 The carnivalesque gives âa certain relief from social tensionâ, Belkin argues, putting forward an interpretation of the carnivalesque that resembles Terry Eagletonâs formulation of it as a âsafety valveâ in which normally repressed individuals can explosively express their frustrations before returning to a life of necessitated self-control. It is a âa contained popular blow-off as disturbing and relatively ineffectual as a revolutionary work of artâ.19 Belkin points out that the purimshpil, her area of specialism, is the artistic expression of the carnivalesque character of Purim in which âthe story of Esther was treated from very early on with a levity totally unthinkable on other occasionsâ.20 She writes of the plays in which âthe Purim players replaced the Biblical dignity and decorum with a wide range of slapstick and farceâ. Aligning the purimshpil with Bakhtinâs celebration of the âfolkâ, she cites the language of the early plays, the Yiddish vernacular, as symbolizing the âeverydayâ and which âtherefore distanced the parody even further from the sacred source and helped create a Jewish language of carnivalâ.21 She ends her article with a thoroughly Bakhtinian frame: âThe temporary overthrow of the social order sends out two messages: one is Utopian, allowing the individual to identify with the community, the other is subversiveâ.22 Belkinâs emphasis upon community draws on Bakhtinâs sense of the blurring of interpersonal boundaries as expressed in the grotesque realism of the leaky, opened body, a metaphor that signals the universal oneness that is produced at carnival. Belkinâs application of Bakhtinâs theories applies this sense of the blurred boundaries of self-identity but restricts it to a Jewish world.
Another âsoftâ use of the carnivalesque is...