414

ressenyes

Otro tema es el de la Epístola farsa de San Esteban. La evidencia que aporta

Haines pone de manifiesto el que sus ejemplos más antiguos van en lengua de oíl,
pero puesto que el último que edita es de principios del siglo xv, tal vez hubiese
valido la pena dar en lugar suyo alguno del siglo xiv con letra en catalán y no en
francés antiguo, como es el caso. Hubiese sido una forma de enriquecer el marco
lingüístico de esta curiosa pieza del repertorio musical sacro.
Todo lo cual no resta ni un ápice al valor de un trabajo erudito, riguroso y cui-
dado al detalle que aboga por la no discriminación de un repertorio de tradición
oral que si apenas dejó huella no por ello merece ser olvidado. Si en el futuro se
rompe lo que hasta ahora ha sido la tendencia general, buena parte del mérito le
habrá correspondido a John Haines.

Maricarmen Gómez Muntané

Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona
Carmen.Gomez@uab.cat

Harvey J. Hames (ed.), Ha-Melacha ha-Ketzara, A Hebrew Translation of Ramon

Llull’s Ars brevis, Corpus Christianorum. Continuatio medievalis 247. Raimundi
Lvlli Opera Latina. Supplementum Lullianum, Tomus iii, Turnhout: Brepols,
2012, liii+193 pp., ISBN: 978-2-503-54198-3.

It is well known that since Picco della Mirandola wrote his Apology Ramon Llull’s
relationship with the Jewish World acquired a particular turn. Since then the, so
to speak, kabbalistic dimension within the Lulian heritage has been the object of
extensive discussion yet a ghostly matter whose positive evidence remained for
centuries as next to nothing.
Astonishing as it may appear the only witness to this cultural and religious
meeting, Ha-Melacha ha-Ketzara, has been known to the researchers for more
than a century yet it has been kept untouched. The history tells a lot about the
intricate labyrinth these sort of studies has come to be sometimes. That’s why it is
really good news finally to see that an end is put to this sad delay. Great homage
is then due to the great scholar Moritz Steinschneider (†1907) and to all those
who have taken pains to make the survival of this great manuscript possible and
come to light today.
These initial words were absolutely necessary to introduce in a proper way
a publication which appears to our eyes as an event. The Ars brevis Hebraized
as Ha-Melacha ha-Ketzara is a translation but also in a sense a new book as the
ressenyes 415

editor H. Hames rightly points out. And it is indeed a most significant composi-
tion because its content sheds new light on some aspects of the Kabbala during
the Renaissance. Such a book is thus perfectly suitable to honor the Corpus Chris-
tianorum within the Continuatio medievalis and it may be not necessarily the last
of this sort to appear.
The edition is due to Harvey J. Hames. He offers the Hebrew text and its
translation face to face accompanied by the Latin original. A triple compara-
tive job very few people would attempt with such success. His skill pervades the
whole work giving to the reader plenty of welcomed and illuminating notes. The
translation intricacies are many and each textual difference is extremely difficult
to fix. Additions, blanks and mistranslations often appear to receive due treat-
ment. Additionally, the text is sometimes purposely obscure and, this is no secret,
Ramon Llull is far from simple even when summarizing himself. The result fares
very well and few things remain to be clarified. Tables and figures are also excel-
lent. Unfortunately the publisher has not felt compelled to print them. Real color
images would have allowed the manuscript’s idiosyncrasies to be easily grasped. It
is indeed always a most welcomed effort.
The introduction includes a lengthy chapter about the way Ha-Melacha ha-
Ketzara was understood and used. Assuming for Pinhas Zvi a strong closeness in
interests with Johanan Alemanno, H. Harvey focuses on Alemanno’s approach to
Ramon Llull’s doctrines since his activities and thoughts are much better known.
The parallels found so far are striking and completely sound. Yet a slight objection
should be posited to express some little concern for the way “magical activities” in
general and Ramon Llul’s doctrines are put together. Thus in some instances (p.
xxv) the lines between these two areas seem to inadvertently blur whereas keep-
ing these areas clear and distinct is capital no matter how much Alemanno and
his circle fused and/or confused them. Of course such ideas are not in the author’s
mind. But let us be overcautious by saying that some crude reader might wrongly
imagine that devoting oneself to read the Ars brevis and studying the Summulae
logicales, is naturally coherent with performing magic. Indeed, the idea that “the
Ars brevis also has magical potential” was, no doubt, assumed by individuals such
as Alemanno. But it must be acknowledged too that this behavior would have
appeared as something completely puzzling to Ramon Llull and his tradition. It
should not be forgotten that he was particularly careful on this point, not allow-
ing astronomical, alchemical and pneumatological practices to come to the fore.
At this point the concurrence of Abulafia triggers the interest for this intro-
duction. A number of points are mentioned disclosing seemingly Abulafian influ-
ences in the Hebrew Ars brevis. They are generally convincing overall. But perhaps
it might have been better to make clear first how difficult is to bridge from Llull
416 ressenyes

to Abulafia or vice versa, particularly in the way God’s contemplation through the
divine names is intended (p. xxxvi). In this sense the depicted Abulafian influ-
ence on Alemanno and his circle is one positive thing, its reaching subsequently
also to Pico della Mirandola is a matter of some hesitation for us in terms of
degree. Just to point out a single aspect about this very complex issue, Picco’s so
often quoted words about this, also recalled here by H. Harvey, say: “Unam quae
dicitur hokhmat ha-zeruf id est ars combinandi et est modus quidam procedendi
in scientiis et est simile quid sicut apud nostros dicitur ars Raymundi, licet forte
diverso modo procedant.” We are afraid of Mirandola might have been here less
enthusiastic than it might seem at first sight. It is worth observing the very cau-
tious ending of his statement: “they well may proceed in a very (literally: “strong”)
different way”. But it is also equally important to realize that it is the hokhmat
ha-zeruf which is compared with the Ars and not the other way round. The quid
in this point makes clear that the “simile” is not exactly balanced; not A : B, but
A < B. Abulafia’s letter-combinatory Kabbalah is the thing matched against,
reduced to or made “similar to just —note the stressing sicut— that which among
us is called ‘ars Raymundi’” and this requires some restraint in relation to the sug-
gested Picco’s Lullistic Abulafianism at least in the reviewer’s opinion. Anyway,
that’s but an alibi to engage further discussions.
The differences between the Ars brevis and Ha-Melacha ha-Ketzara are care-
fully explained. Each dissimilarity, word by word, letter by letter, truly asks for a
careful study. H. Harvey provides this here with seminal and sound information
but surely because of lack of space he has been forced to limit his very interesting
explanations. Let’s hope that in the near future a new publication will expand
appropriately on these important issues.
The amount of further research that this text may attract is important. For
instance, it is noticeable that Roman names spelled throughout the Ha-Mela-
cha ha-Ketzara betray neither a French nor a truly Italian speaker but rather an
Occitan and/or other related languages tongue scribe. As an example: ‫משטרא‬
(p. 193, l. 15) reads: “Mestre”, to be preferred to the Italian wording: “Maestro”
or even to an alleged French one as: “Maître”. The fascinating Hebrew Latin
transliteration table (pp. 6-7) also contains signs of this: ‫ מגניטות‬for “Magnitut”
against Latin “Magnitudo”, or ‫ קונטרריטט‬for “contraritat” instead of “contra-
rietas”, etc. By the way, it is to be noted that ‫ לוקאריי‬should be a scribe or ms.
mistake for “luksuria”. Anyway, this idiomatic point, whose full development
would take the length of a monographic study, is far more important than it
might seem at first sight.
Perhaps it is best to illustrate this point by means of a small case and also
in order to expand the footnotes (p. xxvii, n. 3, and p. 192, n. 14) that refer to
ressenyes 417

Pinhas Zvi, the too little known first copyist of this manuscript and also to offer
an illustrative example of its value for the history of the Renaissance. As a starting
point, this name is to be identified first with the biblical Phinehas or Phineas, the
grandson of Aaron (‫( )פְָינחסִּ < פנחס‬Exod. 6, 25). Bearing in mind that the Tiberian
reading is Pinchas, this last pronunciation may serve as a base to grasp the trans-
formation it suffered when the yod was chopped off and the last two consonants
were assimilated with the old Occitan Latin digraph, nh —which  represents a
palatal  [ɲ]— giving as a result not just this odd reading to Phinehas but also
producing a remarkable homophone with an Occitan word whose meaning is
“pine-cone” in the plural. Such a virtue is shared and sought after by many Jewish
in multicultural societies. The point here is that the Occitan Pinhas is very easily
rendered and reversed into Catalan given the fact that nh = ny, thus Pinhas =
Pinyes. And, curiously enough, that this is the name carried by a very old Jewish
family in Majorca, credited even amongst the last surviving ones. May Pinhas Zvi
perhaps have had somewhere Catalan-Majorcan roots?
Another possible clue gives some greater credence to this hypothesis. Pinhas
Zvi himself, or his own father’s extended name, appears in the colophon this
way: Abin Abat Ibn Tura Hafetz. This lengthy name displays easily recognizable
Arabic trends that point to Islamic culture acquired only by living within its
borders. But what is more interesting here is the family name Tura (‫)אטור‬. As
a matter of fact, the old Semitic roots are already there: Aramaic/Arabic *tûr,
mountain. Again, its Catalan doublet means: ‘calcareous stone’ or mountain’
and Tur as a family name of old is still well known today in Eivissa, the famous
Balearic Island. Yet it is widespread too in the Occitan and Catalan speaking
under the form Tura, and it is also found in Italy and —worse still— it is used
everywhere as a shortening for long names, i.e.: Bonaventura > Ventura > Tura.
All in all, the conflation of Arabic styled names, recognizable catalano-occitan
idiomatic signs and a couple of Majorcan lineages such us Pinhas/Pinyes and
Tura/Tur in a single Jewish person is striking even considering the tentative
nature of the present perusal.
Still there is an amazing point to be considered. If Tura is read in Hebrew
it means also: “column, row” rendered in Italian as Colon! This word can not be
confused semantically with a ‘dove’ (French: Colombe). Did the Colon family pre-
viously translate their name? Did they have roots in Mallorca too? Might Pinhas
Zvi be even related with Rabbi Joseph ben Salomon Colon?
Anyway, on the basis of several graphical particularities Ha-Melacha ha-
Ketzara presents traces of Hebrew translators or scribes from Occitan stock still
fresh whilst working in Italy. And even an older Catalan-Majorcan dimension
may be posited if the hitherto mentioned genealogical considerations could be
418 ressenyes

ascertained for sure, making thus easier to understand how the Ars brevis came
to be translated into Hebrew. No doubt ha-Melacha ha-Ketzara keeps more than
one secret.

Víctor Pallejà de Bustinza

Universitat Pompeu Fabra
victor.palleja@upf.edu

Nina Iamanidzé, Les installations liturgiques sculptées des églises de Géorgie (vie-
xiiie siècles), Brepols, Bibliothèque de l’Antiquité Tardive 15, 2010 304 pp., 173 ill.,
ISBN 978-2-503-53408-4.

Nos encontramos ante un trabajo clásico de catalogación de material disperso

procedente de instalaciones litúrgicas de iglesias georgianas, con una cronología
variable entre los siglos v y xiii. El estudio se organiza entre restos de conjuntos
bautismales, altares, templa o canceles y cierres corales, y un último apartado dedi-
cado a las imágenes con las que se decoraron de los templa y sus singularidades
iconográficas.
De este trabajo, llama muy especialmente la atención la amplitud cronoló-
gica, que nos hace toparnos ante dos hechos diametralmente opuestos. Por un
lado, la pervivencia en los usos de un determinado tipo de material que había
conseguido adquirir todas las constantes posibles para su proyección temporal.
Muy especialmente en el caso de los canceles y cierres presbiteriales que, desde los
ejemplos más antiguos datables en el siglo ix, hasta los más tardíos , como el tem-
plon de Sat’xé, de pleno siglo xiii, habían solventado por completo el problema
de la separación de ámbitos litúrgicos como el presbiterio y la nave del templo,
sin plantear necesidades de cambio, esto es, dilatándose en formas y uso durante
centurias. El otro factor a tener en cuenta parte de todo lo contrario. Desde las
primeras piezas que integran el catálogo hasta las del siglo xiii, hay una variación
estilística espectacular, que hace saltar desde los relieves baustismales más toscos a
las más delicadas y tardías tallas de templa. En este mismo sentido, cabe destacar
la clara organización de motivos iconográficos en relación a la funcionalidad de
la pieza, con escenas de bautismo en las pilas bautismales, motivos eucarísticos en
los altares y temas más dispersos en las placas de cancel y cierres corales, que van
de los ángeles y predicadores más tempranos, a la Hospitalidad de Abrahán, ciclos
narrativos de la vida de Cristo o escenas de Santos, como en los cuatro relieves
del templon de Siomg’vimé, datado en el siglo xi. La complicación iconográfica es