• This Week's Torah Portion

At the beginning of Parashat Mikeitz, when Pharaoh dreams about the seven fat, healthy cows who are consumed by seven gaunt, unhealthy ones and the seven healthy ears of grain that are swallowed up by seven thin, scorched ears, the biblical narrator makes clear that “ein poter otam leFarʿoh” – there is no one else at Pharaoh’s court who can successfully interpret these dreams for Pharaoh (Genesis 4:8). Genesis Rabbah 89:6, as quoted by Rashi, interprets this verse to mean that there were other interpreters, but none who linked their interpretation to Pharaoh (leFarʿoh): [S]o that their words found no acceptance by him and he was not satisfied with their interpretation. They said, for example: “You will beget seven daughters and you will bury seven daughters.” This midrash suggests that Joseph’s success in Pharaoh’s court hinged not just on correctly decoding the dreams but doing so in a way that Pharaoh liked – that accorded with his ego and self-interest. Something clearly changes for Joseph when he is sold into slavery in Egypt. Genesis 39:1 refers twice to him being taken down (hurad, horiduhu Genesis 39:1) to Egypt, signaling an experience of humiliation. Immediately thereafter, however, the narrator tells us that God was with Joseph, “and he was a successful man (matzliaḥ),” and that “God lent success to everything he undertook” (Genesis 39:2-3). In marked contrast to the disdain and “take-down” that Joseph provoked back at home among his own brothers (Genesis 37:4-5,8), Joseph experiences double measures of success in Egypt, endearing himself to everyone, first to Potiphar and his household (most notably Potiphar’s wife, who admires him so much that she tries to get Joseph to sleep with her and gets Joseph thrown in jail when he refuses). If Joseph was intolerably hated by his own family, in Potiphar’s household he is almost intolerably loved. In jail, however, God continues to be with Joseph, endearing him to the chief jailer, and, according to Rashi, to “all who saw him” in ways that lead to even greater, more spectacular success. Joseph’s success in Egypt thus hinges not just on his interpretive acumen, but his likability, personability, and even humility, traits that he conspicuously lacked back home in Canaan. As seen in Mikeitz, Joseph uplifts God, not himself, in his interpretation of Pharaoh’s dream. He insists, before being told the dream, “Not I! God will see to Pharaoh’s welfare” (Genesis 41:16). Rather than immediately volunteering himself for the task of administering the affairs of Egypt in preparation for the upcoming famine, he advises Pharaoh to appoint someone who is “discerning and wise, whom you can set over the land of Egypt” (Genesis 41:36). Twelfth-century French commentator Joseph ben Isaac Bekhor Shor of Orléans interprets this directive as Joseph complimenting and elevating Pharaoh: “For it has been revealed to you [Pharaoh] that you will be make a “takanah laʿolam,” a repair to the world. (Bekhor Shor on Genesis 41:36). How does the world get repaired? By extraordinary individuals who dream big and successfully assert their grand missions and visions before others, provoking jealousy, even hatred, as in the case of Joseph’s brothers? By those who serve humbly, deferentially, even anonymously, behind the scenes, making no waves? Or, as implied in this parashah, by the hand and spirit of God? “Joseph,” by Israeli poet Natan Zach (1930-2020) takes a stand on this issue by explicitly countering the elevation of Joseph as seen in Parashat Mikeitz . Born Harry Seitelbach in Berlin, Natan Zach fled Germany with his family to Palestine in 1936. When he began publishing poetry in 1951, he took on the Hebrew surname Zach, comprised of the Hebrew vocalization of the first and last letters of his German family name. The word “zach” also means “clear” in Hebrew, reflecting the poet’s own preference, against the grain of his poetic predecessors, for clear everyday language that belies its subversiveness and complexity:

Joseph Joseph Master of Dreams Sewed himself a striped cloak Then his miracles came to an end. He took off his pants Ironed the crease He needs to look good in Pharaoh’s eyes. He’s competing not just with the wizards But also with Freud and his priests The dreams are difficult and there’s no interpreter After seven lean years Seven fat years will come Or perhaps the opposite Once again he forgot the text in the book Even though he learned it by heart Joseph, Joseph, it isn’t nice God scolds him impatiently And Joseph repeats the same mistake And goes out to battle against all his mortal foes.

יוסף יוֹסֵף בַּעַל הַחֲלוֹמוֹת תָּפַר לוֹ כְּתֹנֶת פַּסִּים אָז נִ‏גְמְרוּ לוֹ הַנִּסִּים הֵסִיר אֶת הַמִּכְנָסַיִם גִהֵץ אֶת הַקֶּמֶט צָרִיךְ לְהֵרָאוֹת טוֹב לְעֵינֵי פַּרְעֹה הוּא מִתְחָרֶה לֹא רַק בְּיִדְעוֹנִים כִּי אִם גֵּם בִּפְרוֹיְד וּבַעֲדַת כֹּהֲנָיו הַחֲלוֹמוֹת קָשִׁים וְאֵין פּוֹתר אַחֲרֵי שֶׁבַע הַשָׁנִים הָרָזוֹת תָּבֹאנָה שֶׁבָע שָׁנִים שְׁמֵנוֹת וְאוּלַי לְהֵפֶךְ שׁוּב שָׁכַח אֶת הַטֶּקְסְט שֶׁבַּסֵּפֶר וְהֲרֵי לָמַד אוֹתוֹ בְּעַל-פֶּה יוֹסֵף, יוֹסֵף,זֶה לֹא יָפֶה, נוֹזֵף בּוֹ אֱלֹהָיו חֲסָר סָבְלָנוֹת וְיוֹסֵף מְשַׁנֵן שׁוּב אֶת הַטָעוּת וְיוֹצֵא לְהִלָּחֵם בּכֹל שׂוֹנְאָיו בְּנֶפֶשׁ.

In “Joseph,” Zach entirely reverses and undermines the positive biblical portrait of Joseph. If, in Genesis 37:3, Jacob makes Joseph a special striped tunic (kutonet passim) as a sign of his love and of Joseph’s preferred status, Zach depicts Joseph as a vain show-off who makes himself a fancy coat and diligently attends to ironing his slacks so that he can look good for Pharaoh. If, in the biblical text, Joseph is seen as a true interpreter, and “wise and discerning,” (Genesis 40:33), Zach portrays him as confused, forgetful, given to repeated mistakes, and demonstrating a sense of indignant embattled-ness. Zach’s poem stands out among modern poetic depictions of Joseph in its clear contrast to the biblical text, which allows Joseph to grow over the course of his saga in wisdom, gravitas, and likability. As such, the poem foregrounds the goals of poetry, in general, and this sort of biblically engaged poetry, in particular. “Shirah mevareret devarim mevorarim” — “Poetry clarifies clarified things,” Zach writes in another poem, titled “Lomar et Zeh Aḥeret” (“To Put Things Differently”). The goal of poetry, he suggests, is to question prior depictions and interpretations. Reading “Joseph” with this poetic credo in mind, it becomes clear that Zach doesn’t want his readers to trust the biblical portrayal of Joseph; he doesn’t want us to exalt him as either an interpreter or leader. He wants us to put it differently: to see Joseph as someone closer to our hapless, frequently unsuccessful, selves. Reflecting Zach’s modern Israeli position, living in an old/new land, his “Joseph” depicts the biblical figure as struggling both with the wizards and soothsayers of ancient Egypt and modern dream interpreter, Sigmund Freud, encapsulating our predicament as modern interpreters of the Torah and denizens of a confusing and often antisemitic world. Often, we, too, are caught between our awareness of the ancient cultural context and modern interpretive needs, between our flawed dispositions and self-righteous feelings of being pitted against the world. Our task is to find some way to bridge the gap between the sunnier, steadily improving version of Joseph presented in the Bible, and our own doubting, naysaying, hapless selves.