The written Torah is a skeleton. It takes a vast amount of information, history, and movements, and compresses it into a small form. In order to understand the written Torah, one must rely on the oral Torah, as well as the vast amounts of commentaries, opinions, and midrashim that were meant to help elucidate the text of Torah.
The Torah is an ambiguous document. I don’t want to waste time arguing this point, but I will say that very little is known about the people or events within the Torah. We know important events that happened, but the pshat (actual text) gives very little detail about some of these events, or even events that happen in between. This ambiguity is important though. It’s a good thing.
The Torah is a document that can be seen from a very personal, individualistic level, while at the same time remaining all-encompassing. Certain stories and events resonate with different people. People see the Avos (forefathers) and Imahot (foremothers) in completely different aspects. None of these aspects are false, even though they may seem contradictory.
The beauty of the Torah lies in its ambiguity. People say that “the Torah has 70 faces.” And every face, every aspect has value that cannot be lessened. It can take months and even years to study in depth the first book in the Torah, Bereishit (Genesis).
Also, there are laws regarding the study of Jewish mysticism, which is really a study of the depths of the depths of Torah.The Torah is not meant to be only taken at face value, it is meant to be ambigious; it is meant to be studied at deeper levels.
But what about art? Can one translate over that complete ambiguity and openness to interpretation of art?
People prefer a thesis statement. They prefer something where the author has some underlying purpose or message, where not every single word is meant to be interpreted in twenty different ways.An academic paper should not be ambiguous. It should be clearly written with a well stated thesis.
Looking at poetry, one can see that ambiguity is not always beneficial to the written piece. Sometimes, when pieces of poetry are broken down to be analyzed and discussed, they are discovered to be nothing more than pretty strings of words. Some writers depend only on the placement of words and line breaks to communicate their message to their audience.
As a reader, I prefer Robert Frost’s poetry to Ezra Pound. Robert Frost is able to utilize ambiguity in his poetry, there is uncertainty in the journey- but in the end, one sees his point. One can say, “I know his poem is about this.” Pound, on the other hand, takes delight in leaving his reader more confused and disoriented than before they started reading the poem. One cannot simply pick up a Pound poem and decide that it is about A or B. Pound wallows in being confusing to his audience. It makes him feel smart.
Looking at visual art, one can also see that ambiguities don’t always work. Some modern art pieces have really clear points or strong theses that can be seen while not taking away the aesthetics of the pieces themselves.
Some modern art pieces look like they were done by preschoolers on crack. Seriously, I could take a bucket of red paint, splash it on a canvas, and call it “Red”. And some people would be all “Oh wow, it’s such a provacative, daring piece of work that totally and completely revolutionizes the world of art.” And it would be discussed and someone would come up with the brilliant idea “It’s about world peace.”
And some crackheads morons idiots people would accept that explanation without any question.
My peice of “art” could mean peace, war, death, love, fighting, hatred, fear, lust, happiness, pain, sadness, and multitudes of other interpretations. People could come up with vastly complicated explanations for these interpretations, that would turn “Red” into a largely discussed piece.
And me….I accidentally spilled red paint on a canvas, got lazy, and presented it at a show as a joke.
So why?
Having a little ambiguity in art is fine. Making people question the piece and think about it is good. But overall, a piece that is completely 100% ambiguous, with no clear message does not sit well with the audience. I mean…if you want to sit and analyze an Ezra Pound poem for three hours trying to figure out what it means…or stare at “Red” until you see your mother staring back at you, I won’t stop you. But I think it’s a safe assumption to make that most people dislike 100% ambiguous pieces.
BUT THE TORAH IS MAJORLY AMBIGUOUS!!!!!!
Seriously. It’s open to so much interpretation and so much could have happened, or happened in a strange way.
And the Torah starts almost every sentence with the word “And…” (parataxis- I learned this in modern poetry and I am using Dr. Ladin’s idea!!) The word “and” is a seriously and completely powerful word. It gives you this giant feeling that it is always continuing, that everything is always connected. And yet, some of the stories, side by side, seem almost completely disconnected.
We know so little about the events that happened in that time. We know the Egyptians were bad. But do we know why we were brought out of Egypt?
Different commentaries say:
1. We were on such a low level, that if Hashem had waited any longer, we would not have been worthy enough to save.
2. Alternatively, we were on a high level, and Hashem heard our cries and answered us sooner that would have been expected.
3. The Egyptians were so exceedingly cruel that Hashem rescued us early.
4. We were really enslaved the right amount of time, because they counted the time of the exile since Yaakov’s (Jacob) leaving Israel.
I’m probably missing a lot more on just this one small little event that happened in the Torah. But that’s a lot. And some of the reasons contradict each other. So this event is pretty ambiguous if the commentators can’t agree. And I can bring up a ton of examples where a small event can be interpreted in about 4 or 5 or 10 different ways in the Torah.
And we revel in this, we enjoy discussing for hours and hours what the possible meanings of an event that happens in the Torah are. So much of our laws and traditions come from listening to the rabbi’s discussions and arguments over how we are supposed to keep laws.
Look at Shabbas for example. The Torah says “Guard Shabbas” and then the Torah says “Remember Shabbas”. Does the Torah tell you how you are supposed to do either? No.
We are supposed to rely on the arguments and decisions of our Rebbeim throughout history for elucidation on how to keep this mitzvah.
The question that I am posing to you is: Why does ambiguity work so well in the Torah, why is it something we can embrace, when we can’t embrace it as completely in other areas of our lives?
Do you even agree?
This is definitely a question I will be pondering, and perhaps trying to return to every so often to discuss. If you get bored, too bad.
