What makes a writing "Fiction" versus "History"?

[neilgodfrey]

Much work has been done on the relationship between Mark and Isaiah/Exodus themes. Many of the gospel's techniques are thrown into relief when read against the texts we can demonstrate on other grounds were used as a source.

[Ben C. Smith]

I do not think I buy the Jairus thing, incidentally, and feel that the Barabbas thing may have other, better explanations than just its "son of the father" value, but I agree with your main point here; it is all about the context.

I don't know what you mean by "not buying the Jairus thing". (The existence of the pun is a textual fact I have never known anyone to dispute.)

People may have different explanations for the pun. We may say it is mere coincidence. That's fine. Maybe it is, but that explanation begins to look strained when we note so many other similar coincidences.

What I am suggesting is that the authorial intention to create this particular pun is hardly beyond dispute:

1. The Greek name Ιαϊρ or Ἰάϊρος in the LXX usually translates the Hebrew יָאִיר, which means "he enlightens" — however, exactly once in the LXX Ιαϊρ (not even Ἰάϊρος/Ἰάειρος, the form found in Mark 5.22) translates יָעִיר, which means "he arouses" instead and aligns with the story better.
2. Now, this verb is not the dedicated term for awakening, קיץ — no, it is a more generic term (as the English translation "arouse" already suggests); it absolutely can mean to arouse from sleep, but it more commonly means to arouse to some heightened emotional state (anger, love) or from a state of inactivity to a more active state. But we will take "arouse from sleep" as our meaning, for the sake of the story.
3. At this point we have Jairus, the girl's father, bearing an appellation which means "he arouses" (from sleep), a name which would apply more aptly to Jesus than to Jairus.

It is not that this process is impossible or even improbable; it very well could be that the/an author made this trek, but each step along the way was not the most obvious choice, and the very presence of the other choices means that the name Jairus could have applied equally well to many different situations. Had the healed person been blind, or had Jesus been teaching someone, "he enlightens" (literally or figuratively). Had the person been lame, "he arouses" (from inactivity). Had someone gotten emotional in some way in the story, "he arouses" (to an emotional state). There are lots of options along this path, which must render each individual option at least a bit suspect.

The most enthusiasm I can muster for this exact pun here is: maybe.

[neilgodfrey]

What I am suggesting is that the authorial intention to create this particular pun is hardly beyond dispute:

Intentions remain a mystery. We deal with the text as we have it and functions of words. Multiple meanings are part and parcel of many literary exercises, not least that of the Gospel of Mark. We could write books to explain why in the Gospel of Mark each pun or allusion or echo is not a pun or an allusion or an echo but we are still left with the fact that Mark contains a relatively extraordinary number of puns, allusions and echoes that we can write books about to explain away - often by means of false-dilemma arguments.

[Ben C. Smith]

What I am suggesting is that the authorial intention to create this particular pun is hardly beyond dispute:

Intentions remain a mystery. We deal with the text as we have it and functions of words. Multiple meanings are part and parcel of many literary exercises, not least that of the Gospel of Mark. We could write books to explain why in the Gospel of Mark each pun or allusion or echo is not a pun or an allusion or an echo but we are still left with the fact that Mark contains a relatively extraordinary number of puns, allusions and echoes that we can write books about to explain away.

Many of those puns and echoes are quite solid and fairly obvious. Others are simply not as solid, nor as obvious. You asked why I do not necessarily buy the Jairus thing, and I gave you my answer; I am simply trying to sift the wheat from the chaff, to use a metaphor which you have used elsewhere.

[neilgodfrey]

Coincidentally this is the 50th year since Joan Lindsay's Picnic at Hanging Rock -- another work of fiction that many people insist is genuine history -- so we are seeing much discussion about the book right now. Like the gospel, Picnic has a frustratingly "incomplete" conclusion, with (what is arguably a forged) conclusion added later. Also like the gospel, Picnic is laden with symbolism and multiple intertextual allusions and subject to innumerable interpretations.

And many people just can't get out of their heads the belief that it is all true, genuine history. Literary analysis of the text itself along with checking external sources demonstrates its fictional character -- but to no effect for many.

http://www.castleofspirits.com/picnicathangingrock.html

http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/pro ... ck/8578794 -- from minute 28:00

[JoeWallack]

What I am suggesting is that the authorial intention to create this particular pun is hardly beyond dispute:

Intentions remain a mystery. We deal with the text as we have it and functions of words. Multiple meanings are part and parcel of many literary exercises, not least that of the Gospel of Mark. We could write books to explain why in the Gospel of Mark each pun or allusion or echo is not a pun or an allusion or an echo but we are still left with the fact that Mark contains a relatively extraordinary number of puns, allusions and echoes that we can write books about to explain away.

Many of those puns and echoes are quite solid and fairly obvious. Others are simply not as solid, nor as obvious. You asked why I do not necessarily buy the Jairus thing, and I gave you my answer; I am simply trying to sift the wheat from the chaff, to use a metaphor which you have used elsewhere.

JW:
The evidence for intentional fiction by use of the contrived name "Jairus" is just the start:

"Mark"=Simple Fish Story or Smooth Sualvific and Deboanerges

[td][url=http://www.errancywiki.com/index.php?title=Mark_5]5:1-20[/url][/td] [td]The Jewrassic Pork Story[/td] [td][b][color=#0000FF]The man is not afraid of Jesus[/color][/b] but the demons are[/td] [td]Here we have the Gentile story[/td] [td][url=http://www.errancywiki.com/index.php?title=Mark_6]6:1-6[/url][/td] [td]A prophet without honor in his own country[/td] [td]Jesus can not heal because of a lack of faith on the part of the potential beneficiaries[/td] [td][b][color=#FF0000]On the other outside of the Intercalation those closest to Jesus such as his family lack faith the same as those closest to Jesus professionally, his disciples, at the other end of the Intercalation.[/color][/b][/td]

Verse	Story	Lesson	Commentary
4:35-41	Jesus calms the sea	The disciples fear because they lack faith	This chain of stories immediately follows the parables explanation
5:21-24	The Ruler of the synagogue	The Ruler has faith that Jesus will heal	Here we have the upper class Jewish story. Also note the contrived names Gerasa/Jairus for recognition purposes
5:25-34	The woman with the issue of blood	The woman has faith that all she needs to do is touch Jesus	The heart of the Intercalation. The story makes explicit that it is the woman's faith that is the cause of the healing as opposed to Jesus' ability to heal. Jesus did not even know who or why he was touched. The low class Jewish story.
5:35-43	The second half of the Ruler of the synagogue story	The healing is successful because of the faith of the father and not of the direct beneficiary	Note the Intercalation around the heart with the complete pericopes on the outside.

JW:
Note especially the contrived phonetic connection "Jairus"/"Gerasa". This would have been much more ReMarkable to a native Greek speaker that had never heard of Gerasa (or even "Jairus") before. Ben, Neil has not known you as long as I have. You are much more open to/accepting of evidence for contrivance/fiction in GMark than you used to be.

"Mark" wrote the original Gospel narrative so that gave him freedom, he knows it's not history [unnecessary qualification] (for the most part) [/unnecessary qualification].


Joseph

Skeptical Textual Criticism

[Paul the Uncertain]

Neil

Second post, first

Your second posts are position papers?, surveying areas of agreement, or restating your own position? I am not blowing that off, but if we've agreed, or disagreed and I've already commented, then I am inclined to let this stand as your view reiterated.

Or, if some response is now required, then here it is again:

We have no way of knowing what they meant to the author.

Therefore, my hypothesized interpretation of what is indisputably on the received page is admissible, which is all I claimed, and all that need be claimed. Kumbaya.

Uncontentiously, there was a lol; thank you:

The Gospel of Mark is not a "genre-innovation" in the sense of creating anything totally new.

I recall something in the Jewish Bible about that .

Seriosuly, I do think we could go in another direction than we already have, working through the normative and heursitic demands of comparing like with like. This is suggested, but not developed, by your observation

That is, we would expect him to inform readers why his account has some authoritative merit and at least identify himself ...

Would "we?" (Who is your "we" anyway, Neil?). Without reaching the question of Mark's personal viewpoint (which we - meaning you and I - have agreed we don't know), his subject is a convicted seditionist, unjustly crucified, who maybe cheated the executioner, and whom Mark sympathetically portrayed. Just like Iamblichus, is that?

First post

So where do we disagree? You have a theory about why Pliny minimally exerts himself to say he heard two of the stories. You have great confidence that your account of his behavior is true - and complete.

How do I dissent from that? I point out that Pliny perfects another well-known literary device, the build of three. Do I know that that is Pliny's sole motive for composing his epsitolary petition's supporting material as he does? No.

No? What's my point then? The question we have been set is whether there "must be" (the rhetoric of necessity, if you will) characteristics of the text that distinguish fiction from history. Pliny's compositional device is one of those "history-not-fiction" characteristics, you argue.

And maybe it is; Pliny's dead, we can't ask him, and contrary to your sarcasm, I don't read anybody else's mind. What we have here is an example of a device that is not found exclusively in any one genre. Pliny's use of it MAY BE motivated by history-rhetorical intent. Or, it MAY NOT BE; the qualities of the device itself being formally sufficient to explain his use. What may or may not be is not necessarily so. QED.

By contrast in Mark, the audience is simply presented with a "just so" story. "

In American English, a "just so" story refers to a narrative which purports to explain something, but its truth, its explanatory power or both are unsubstantiated (or ludicrous, as in Kipling's usage*). Mark may well be "explaining something," but he doesn't say what.

Bottom line, then, I don't know what you're talking about here. Two great peoples divided by a common language?

To the limited extent I do follow, I propose the following: Pliny omits where he heard the stories. Perhaps he omitted that because he estimated that Sura doesn't care, or won't care when he soon enough reaches the climax: the lived experience story and Pliny's startling life-and-death interpetation of it.

Perhaps Mark estimates that his audience doesn't care where he got his story, or that they prefer to hear the story in full before investigating its well-foundedness. Or they already know perfectly well where Mark got it, from those pesky Christians who are all over the urban landcape like squirrels, chattering on about events allegedly set within the lives of their parents. (Which placement Mark does explicitly communicate to us, whatever else you want to read into the sons of Simon of Cyrene making a cameo appearance, interrupting the hero's hideous execution).

One difference between silent reading and being read to is that the autonomous reader can skip over interruptions - and "come back to them later," if the story, when fully narrated, warrants the effort of checking the then-and-not-before salient issue of provenance.

If we suppose that Mark was written for public oral performance (which is seriously possible), then the author may have pondered whether his audience, who must access the performance in unbroken sequence, wants to hear the proofs before or alongside the events. He may conclude that the answer is mostly no, and decide to proceed without them. That, whether his larger goal is realistic fiction (Wow, all I have to do is say I heard it, and I'm a frackin' historian) or instead retelling stories already in some level of circulation, which some people believe are true (all that Iamblichus will ever accomplish about Pythagoras' life, which makes him a frackin' historian, too).

===============

* Ironically, classification of other people's "just so" stories is a notorious example of the general inability to infer intent from a textual marker. Just-so-ness is clarity itself: an intent to explain is simulated or announced, and the explanation utterly fails to perusade. The problem is, was the actual intent explicative?

There is a Native American spirit-tale about "why" popcorn pops ... which by an amazing coincidence serves the mnemonic function of identifying a form of animal feed that, in a pinch, can be quickly transformed into human food. Incidentally, the story tells how that is done. Hmm.

I imagine this story would be entertaining for children, and by another amazing coincidence, wouldn't it be children who would usefully be told about the hidden potential of that variety of maize? Tricky business, this black-and-white imputation of intent, working only from a mute text.

[neilgodfrey]

That is, we would expect him to inform readers why his account has some authoritative merit and at least identify himself ...

Would "we?" (Who is your "we" anyway, Neil?).

By "we" I mean the audience of the text. It means "us" today and readers of the past who are familiar with the forms and conventions of writing that functions as a historical narrative or inquiry, whether by Herodotus or Tom Holland.

Historical writing does have its necessary forms that set it apart from fictional narrative, including historical fiction, but you are not convinced.

Without reaching the question of Mark's personal viewpoint (which we - meaning you and I - have agreed we don't know), his subject is a convicted seditionist, unjustly crucified, who maybe cheated the executioner, and whom Mark sympathetically portrayed. Just like Iamblichus, is that?

No, that is missing the whole point, from my perspective. We are talking about conventions or forms or devices or whatever that enable us to distinguish historical narrative from fiction. The plot outline you give here is not the point: the point is the forms and devices through which the tale is told.

So where do we disagree? You have a theory about why Pliny minimally exerts himself to say he heard two of the stories. You have great confidence that your account of his behavior is true - and complete.

I don't see anything controversial about it. It's straightforward analysis and explication of the text. The "minimally exerts himself" depiction misses the point of my argument. I'm not addressing behaviour and I don't know what you mean by my thinking my account is "complete". It is simple textual parsing.

How do I dissent from that? I point out that Pliny perfects another well-known literary device, the build of three.

I don't understand how a build of three denies what is surely the straightforward textual analysis that I have mentioned: Pliny is declaring that a tale he is relating comes from what someone has told him.

No? What's my point then? The question we have been set is whether there "must be" (the rhetoric of necessity, if you will) characteristics of the text that distinguish fiction from history. Pliny's compositional device is one of those "history-not-fiction" characteristics, you argue.

I am not saying Pliny is writing history. But he is using a fundamental principle that makes historical inquiry and accounting what it is: he gives his audience confidence in what he is about to write by telling them how and why they can trust him and what he has to say. That is the contract that is typically set up between author and audience in historical writing.

And maybe it is; Pliny's dead, we can't ask him, and contrary to your sarcasm, I don't read anybody else's mind.

I certainly intended no sarcasm.

What we have here is an example of a device that is not found exclusively in any one genre. Pliny's use of it MAY BE motivated by history-rhetorical intent. Or, it MAY NOT BE; the qualities of the device itself being formally sufficient to explain his use. What may or may not be is not necessarily so. QED.

I have attempted to point to a coupling of two "devices":

1. declaration that information comes from a source external to the text
2. the personal identification and address by the narrator to the audience.

Both points are typical as a means of a writer of history giving his reader confidence that he can know the author is sincerely trying to do the right thing about ascertaining historical information and hopes to be found reliable.

By contrast in Mark, the audience is simply presented with a "just so" story. "

In American English, a "just so" story refers to a narrative which purports to explain something, but its truth, its explanatory power or both are unsubstantiated (or ludicrous, as in Kipling's usage*). Mark may well be "explaining something," but he doesn't say what.

Bottom line, then, I don't know what you're talking about here. Two great peoples divided by a common language?

He's telling the story of the "beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ", as I understand it. It's a story, like Genesis is the story of the beginning of mankind and Israel.

To the limited extent I do follow, I propose the following: Pliny omits where he heard the stories. Perhaps he omitted that because he estimated that Sura doesn't care, or won't care when he soon enough reaches the climax: the lived experience story and Pliny's startling life-and-death interpetation of it.

Presumably the identification of those who told him the stories would not mean anything to Sura. The point, though, is that he is saying he is relying upon reports of third parties.

Perhaps Mark estimates that his audience doesn't care where he got his story, or that they prefer to hear the story in full before investigating its well-foundedness. Or they already know perfectly well where Mark got it, from those pesky Christians who are all over the urban landcape like squirrels, chattering on about events allegedly set within the lives of their parents. (Which placement Mark does explicitly communicate to us, whatever else you want to read into the sons of Simon of Cyrene making a cameo appearance, interrupting the hero's hideous execution).

We know that Mark's source was other literature. He rewrites many passages in the Jewish Scriptures. He is fleshing out many texts from favourite books.

(There is nothing in Mark's gospel that indicates his audience knew the story happened in the time of their parents. It's a theoretical possibility by inference, but it's not indicated in the text itself. The narrative actually indicates that it was never heard before -- e.g. the women said nothing to anyone -- so it seems contradictory to suppose circumstances that mean they heard the basics of the tomb etc from others.)

One difference between silent reading and being read to is that the autonomous reader can skip over interruptions - and "come back to them later," if the story, when fully narrated, warrants the effort of checking the then-and-not-before salient issue of provenance.

If we suppose that Mark was written for public oral performance (which is seriously possible), then the author may have pondered whether his audience, who must access the performance in unbroken sequence, wants to hear the proofs before or alongside the events. He may conclude that the answer is mostly no, and decide to proceed without them. That, whether his larger goal is realistic fiction (Wow, all I have to do is say I heard it, and I'm a frackin' historian) or instead retelling stories already in some level of circulation, which some people believe are true (all that Iamblichus will ever accomplish about Pythagoras' life, which makes him a frackin' historian, too).

If he were writing history according to what appear to be the understood conventions of history writing of the day, then he is not likely to have written a performance piece. That he appears to have written a performance piece should perhaps suggest he was not interested in writing a historical work but something else. -- Something either for entertainment, or for a religious cult (dramatic performance being closely associated with religious cultic ceremonies).

In brief, historical writing was (and still is) as a rule presented by authors who establish a type of understanding with their readers: they generally ensure in some way that their identities are known so that readers can make some judgement about their ability to do the job; and they (always?) inform readers in some way why they believe their information is indeed "historical" (not fiction).

If the Gospel of Mark does contain real history, then because it is not independently verified it is completely lost to us. The gospel itself cannot be used as a historical text firstly because of that reason, and secondly because it functions in other ways, such as a performance piece for presumably religious/cultic reasons. If that means that one set of historical questions are unanswerable, it also means that we can frame new questions of historical inquiry to try to understand the origin and function of the gospel itself. That is, we could derive historical information from it the same way we derive historical information from Shakespeare and Aeschylus.

[Paul the Uncertain]

Neil

By "we" I mean the audience of the text. It means "us" today and readers of the past who are familiar with the forms and conventions of writing that functions as a historical narrative or inquiry, whether by Herodotus or Tom Holland.

My, but you do have your Tacitus impression down cold. OK then, we - as in thee and me - might agree that

1) We have no reliable measure of how much of Mark's actual target audience fell within that range, his median being maybe downmarket of people whose slaves read books to them, and

2) Mark himself might have had a guess about that aspect of his audience, and crafted his piece accordingly - or in terms Tom Holland might hear or use, "cut to the chase."

Who knows? Maybe Mark's first draft was chock full of "I heard" and he (or his business manager) opined "You know, this would suck less if you said 'and immediately' over and over again instead..."

"Why, yes, I'll think I'll do that; it picks up the pace!"

you are not convinced.

And you say we can't read minds.

We are talking about conventions or forms or devices or whatever that enable us to distinguish historical narrative from fiction...

Actually, I thought we were discussing whether it's even possible for such things to exist.

The plot outline you give here is not the point: the point is the forms and devices through which the tale is told.

Um, no. You mentioned that you imputed history-rhetoric significance to someone not volunteering his name. Assuming that Mark didn't (which we don't actually know), it is admissible to consider alternative reasons for anonymity, such as features of his situation that would distinguish Mark from a self-identifier who's been offered as a history-rhetoric example. Mark's choice of criminally suspect subject matter is a bona fide difference.

I don't know what you mean by my thinking my account is "complete". It is simple textual parsing.

I parsed the text, too. Where we differ? I see that whenever there are two seriously possible candidates, then the matter is uncertain. You think it is simple textual parsing and wonder why we weren't done when you announced your results. (Complete = nothing further to be said.)

he gives his audience confidence in what he is about to write by telling them how and why they can trust him and what he has to say.

I don't know what the quality of his relationship with Sura was, and I'm not Pliny's intended audience. That said, I find nothing confidence-inspiring in the bare assertion "I heard." I accept Pliny's explicit statement of sincerity at face value. His non-attribution which, if taken literally, would imply that he didn't just make up the first two stories adds nothing further to his credibility in my estimation. It adds a lot to the build of three, though; really punches it with just a few extra words.

I therefore entertain the possibility that what Pliny accomplished is what he set out to do (give prominence to the third story by crafting a build of three), and that what he failed to accomplish is not what he set out to do (increase his credibility by feebly hand-waving around giving a source which he doesn't give). Other views are possible, but then that's my point.

We know that Mark's source was other literature. He rewrites many passages in the Jewish Scriptures. He is fleshing out many texts from favourite books.

Or he's writing about a Jewish preacher. Speaking of things we know.

It's a theoretical possibility by inference, but it's not indicated in the text itself.

Let him who has ears?

The narrative actually indicates that it was never heard before -- e.g. the women said nothing to anyone --

Even if Mark ever did end at 16:8, that is, ended there before the winning church decided that women are yucky, then so what? That yummy boy in the tomb knows everything. There is no basis, therefore, to infer that the women not telling the runaways what Jesus has already told them would make any difference to the diffusion of the story.

If he were writing history according to what appear to be the understood conventions of history writing of the day, then he is not likely to have written a performance piece.

The question is whether he's writing history, not whether he's writing upmarket history. A performance piece has some advantages over "what appear to be the understood conventions of history writing of the day" - you can have several performers, not every performer needs to be able to read, much less any of the audience, and you can have performers in different places at the same time.

The technology to accomplish that was being practiced in the target area for about 500 years (really longer if it was a solo performance). I am comfortable that Mark was a performance piece, because it is a treatment. That experiment has been done: Alec McCowen recited the thing as it comes out of the hotel room drawer, and people paid to hear him do it. We're therefore down to whether or not Mark would have approved. I have my suspicions he would. Other views, and all that.

[austendw]

My point is the narrator is telling his readers that his information is coming from some source. It makes no difference to the point whether the source he refers to is some internationally recognized authority, records engraved in stone tablets or some vague rumour he has heard.

That is, the narrator is presented as one who is appealing to some source for verification of his message. It may not be very good verification, it might in fact be very bad verification, but from the narrator's and readers' perspectives there is a recognized appeal to having obtained the narrative itself from some source that is in fact an appeal to accepting the "reality" of what is being written.

I am not addressing the historicity itself of the particular content; or the veracity let alone reliability of the source. What we have is an appeal to "historicity" or "reality" of what is being said. "This is not fiction," is the message.

The trouble with this, Neil, is that this isn't necessarily an appeal to "historicity", it's an appeal to "scholarship." For example, in his Life of Theseus, Plutarch uses all of these rhetorical tropes, which "appeal to having obtained the narrative itself from some source", but as Plutarch acknowledges that the stories are probably fabulous, he is not appealing to the "reality" of what is being said.

Simonides, however, says that the sail given by Aegeus was not white, but "a scarlet sail dyed with the tender flower of luxuriant holm-oak," and that he made this a token of their safety. Moreover, the pilot of the ship was Phereclus, son of Amarsyas, as Simonides says; but Philochorus says that Theseus got from Scirus of Salamis Nausithoüs for his pilot, and Phaeax for his look-out man, the Athenians at that time not yet being addicted to the sea, and that Scirus did him this favour because one of the chosen youths, Menesthes, was his daughter's son. And there is evidence for this in the memorial chapels for Nausithoüs and Phaeax which Theseus built at Phalerum near the temple of Scirus, and they say that the festival of the Cybernesia, or Pilot's Festival, is celebrated in their honour. (Thesues 17:5-6)

There are many other stories about these matters, and also about Ariadne, but they do not agree at all. Some say that she hung herself because she was abandoned by Theseus; others that she was conveyed to Naxos by sailors and there lived with Oenarus the priest of Dionysus, and that she was abandoned by Theseus because he loved another woman [...]
Now the most auspicious of these legendary tales are in the mouths of all men, as I may say; but a very peculiar account of these matters is published by Paeon the Amathusian. 3 He says that... etc etc (Thesues 20:1-2)

This isn't "an appeal to accepting the "reality" of what is being written"; it is an appeal to accepting the breadth and/or depth of Plutarch's scholarly research, and the scrupulousness with which he lays out the different versions, the differing narratives, he puts before us. Whether the reader takes them as historical or legendary or a fuzzy mixture of both, is determined by the reader's own sensibility/credulity; it is certainly not determined by Plutarch's explicit discussion of his sources.