Introduction

The Book of Lamentations

The book of Lamentations stands in a long tradition of ancient Near Eastern city-laments, and responds to the destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple by the Babylonians in the sixth century BCE. In the Hebrew Bible, Lamentations is found among the five Megillot (‘small scrolls’), in the third category of the canon, the Ketuvim (‘writings’). Lamentations is traditionally attributed to the prophet Jeremiah (for more on Jeremiah as author see below and ­commentary sections on Lam 1:1–3, 6, 17, 21; 2:14, 18; 3:1, 25–30, 31–3, 41–2; and 4:20), and in the Christian canon it appears just after Jeremiah, among the books of the Prophets. It consists of five poems, four of which are acrostics based on the twenty-two letters of the alef-bet, the Hebrew alphabet (for more on acrostics see commentary sections on Lam 1:1, 6, 10, 12, 17; 2:18; 3:1, 7–9, 34–36; 4:1; and 5:1). Excellent introductions to the standard historical-critical questions may be found in the commentaries of Provan (1991), Hillers (1992) and Berlin (2002).

Who Wrote Lamentations?

The biblical book of Lamentations is anonymous: the identity of the author or authors of this book is unknown. However, the early and long-standing ­tradition, within both Judaism and Christianity, is that it comes from the prophet Jeremiah. This was encouraged by the probability of a sixth-century BCE setting, by a reference in 2 Chro 35:25 (‘Jeremiah also uttered a lament for Josiah, and all the singing men and singing women have spoken of Josiah in their laments to this day. They made these a custom in Israel; they are recorded in the Laments’), and by some affinities with the so-called ‘Confessions’ in the book of Jeremiah. The Babylonian Talmud (Baba Batra 14b–15a) reports that ‘Jeremiah wrote the book that bears his name, the book of Kings and Lamentations’, and the Targum of Lamentations opens with the words, ‘Jeremiah the prophet and high priest said …’. The tradition is reflected also in the headings of the Greek Septuagint and the Latin Vulgate (a practice carried over even to the English RSV, where an introductory heading reads: ‘The Lamentations of Jeremiah’), and in the location of Lamentations in the Christian canon immediately after the book of Jeremiah.

This view is rarely defended by historical critics today, since overall the style and thought are somewhat different from the book of Jeremiah – indeed many positions in Lamentations appear to contradict Jeremiah’s stance (Hillers 1992: 13–14). Nonetheless, the suggestion of Jeremianic authorship, while perhaps historically inaccurate, demonstrates readerly discernment of resonances between the books of Jeremiah and Lamentations regarding historical context and the anguished timbre of the authorial voice, and some who follow the ­modern critical consensus still choose to treat Jeremiah as the author of Lamentations in a symbolic sense.

That the association with Jeremiah has dominated the long view of Lamentations cannot be doubted, and not surprisingly the reception of the book in the visual arts is, by and large, characterized by association with the prophet. The Sistine Chapel ceiling painted between 1508 and 1512 by Michelangelo (born Caprese, Tuscany, 1475; died Rome, 1564) features a famous image of The Prophet Jeremiah, looking down disconsolately, his head supported by his hand; but though its viewers would have assumed that this was the author of Lamentations, there is no distinctive allusion to the book. However, a well-known picture by Rembrandt van Rijn (born Leiden, Netherlands, 1606; died Amsterdam, 1669) may well have the book more ­centrally in focus. It has been said of Jeremiah Lamenting the Destruction of Jerusalem (1630), from Rembrandt’s early Leiden years, that ‘this work remains unique in that it represents a major reception that focuses upon Lamentations’; the picture and its links with Lamentations are discussed in detail by Heath Thomas (Thomas 2011b: 154). Gustave Doré (born Strasbourg, France, 1832; died Paris, 1883) produced a very popular and influential illustrated Bible, ­published in 1866. This includes a striking image with a central figure who is presumably meant to represent Jeremiah; it is variously referred to as The People Mourning over the Ruins of Jerusalem and Jeremiah Laments the Desolation of Jerusalem. Finally, Marc Chagall (born near Vitebsk, Russia, 1887; died Paris, 1985) painted several famous pictures of Jeremiah, including Jeremiah (1956) and The Prophet Jeremiah (1968). Two other Chagall images, however, can be associated more particularly with Lamentations. The Capture of Jerusalem (1956) is discussed in some detail in our commentary at Lam 3:41–2; and special mention should also be made of Jeremiah’s Lamentations (also 1956). In the latter Jeremiah clutches to his bosom what seems to be a scroll, in a pose that is very evocative of mother and child. Heath Thomas writes: ‘One may note suggestions of a motherly metaphor at work, imagining Jeremiah the prophet as a “mother” for his children, the people of Jerusalem’, and he speculates that this representation moves in the direction of emphasis upon ‘the persona of Daughter Zion’ (Thomas 2011b: 154).

Michelangelo, The Prophet Jeremiah, from the Sistine Chapel ceiling, Vatican (1508–12).

Rembrandt van Rijn, Jeremiah Lamenting the Destruction of Jerusalem (1630).

Gustave Doré, The People Mourning over the Ruins of Jerusalem (1866).

Marc Chagall, Jeremiah’s Lamentations (1956).

The Language of Lamentations: Translations and Versions

The book of Lamentations was written in Hebrew, and some of the earliest instances of its reception history consist of translations, including the Greek Septuagint (see on Lam 1:3; 4:20), the Aramaic Targum (see on Lam 2:15–16; 4:20; 5:8), and the Latin Vulgate (see on Lam 1:2, 3, 6; 3:7–9; 4:20; 5:22). Most of the examples of reception history that we have examined here were based on translations into other languages. Our musical settings, for example, were based mostly on the Latin of the Vulgate, and the patristic readings we discuss were based predominantly on the Greek Septuagint. Some more recent interpreters knew the biblical text primarily as translated into their own ­vernacular, perhaps French or English. The poetic form of the Hebrew ­original has its own ­multivalency, and this is compounded by the phenomenon of translation. The language used, whether the original Hebrew or a translation, has its own ­particularity, and the capacity to reveal and conceal, to illuminate or to obscure.

What Makes Lamentations So Generative and Fertile?

What is it about Lamentations that has produced such a rich and diverse ­reception? It must be significant that the central themes of the book bear directly on central human questions. The experience of loss, bereavement and mourning is perennial. From the start, the book evokes the deepest and most personal of individual human losses (‘like a widow’, Lam 1:1) and moves on to confront the loss of children (Lam 2:12). Destroyed cities and displaced people: these have been all-too-common features of the human lot over the past two and a half millennia. And, as with the Psalms, these hard realities and the questions they pose for belief are explored in Lamentations with searing ­honesty (for example, Lam 1:12–16). Again, Lamentations is one of relatively few biblical books that give a voice to a woman, in this case personified Zion (Chapters 1–2). Some discussions of the impact made by biblical books such as Job cite the large size of the work, but it is worth reflecting whether it is precisely the small scale of Lamentations that has encouraged so many readers to turn to it. Finally, the poetic nature of the work should not go unmentioned. As Robert Alter has influentially emphasized (Alter 1985), the multivalent nature of poetry means that it is an effective vehicle for a wide range of ­emotions; this combined with its subject matter is surely of significance in ­accounting for the rich reception of Lamentations.

Timely Lament: Why Is Lamentations Read and Studied Now?

One answer to this question must surely be that our age is not short of ­occasions of radical loss that have so often, through the centuries, been the context for reading Lamentations. Examples that feature in this commentary include the Shoah (the Holocaust) (see on Lam 2:1–2, 11–12, 13, 20; 3:10–14, 41–2; 4:9–10, 13–15; and 5:22), the events in the Balkans in the 1990s (see on Lam 4:5), and 9/11 and its aftermath (see on Lam 1:1 and 3:43–8). Images of destroyed cities and dying children are all too familiar. It might be suggested, in addition, that the profound engagement of Lamentations with the human condition ­resonates with certain features of the modern mindset, including perhaps the lingering influence of existentialism (passé perhaps in many quarters but still a persisting influence on many Christian and Jewish preachers and teachers).

Within the guild of biblical studies it would seem that Lamentations is a book whose time has come. One catalyst for this was an influential essay by Walter Brueggemann,...