Toldot

Now here is a riddle
To guess if you can...
Who is the monster?
And who is the man?

- Walt Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Toldot is the story of two brothers: Esau, a hunter, a man of the wild; and Jacob, a scholar, a man of the book. Theirs was a rivalry that predated even their birth; as unborn twins they engaged in fetal fisticuffs - a pastime which certainly didn't endear the tykes to their collaterally damaged mother. (Gen 25:22) The boys were born Esau first, with Jacob grasping his brother's heel. Already the literary symbolism draws us to Esau as the protagonist, with Jacob the clear antagonist. As they boys grew, their parents played favourites; Esau was Isaac's golden boy, whilst Rebecca preferred Jacob. (ibid 25:28)

The mutual hostility of the brothers draws to a crescendo in a simultaneously spectacular and farcical piece of intrigue, the recounting of which occupies the entire 27th chapter of Genesis. Isaac's advanced age has robbed him of his sight, and he fears his time is almost up. He asks Esau to prepare for him one final feast, after which the elder Patriarch intends to grant his final blessing unto his favourite son. Ever diligent, Esau departs on a hunt.

Rebecca has overheard the exchange, and quickly hatches a scheme to ensure that her favourite son comes out on top. She urges Jacob to bring two young goats from their flock to her, so that she may prepare a meal for him. He can bring it to his blind father, who will think him Esau and mistakenly grant him the grand blessing. Jacob objects; not because he feels that there might be some kind of ethical problem involved in stealing from his brother by callously manipulating their blind, dying father; but because Esau is a hairy man, and if Isaac touches the impostor, the ruse is up. "Chill," Rebecca tells her frantic son. "I got it all figured out." Jacob brings the goats and Rebecca fries em up. She then takes the furry skins of the kids and covers Jacob's arms and neck with them, to simulate Esau's hairiness.

The preparation complete, Jacob enters the room of his father. They exchange niceties and, suspecting something is up, Isaac asks to feel his son's arm. The old man then exclaims:

"The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau." - Gen 27:22

Plus a hundred points for poignant foreshadowing, but minus about a billion for good thinking, yeah? (Beeblebrox 1979) "Oh well, I feel fur, and it's a lot more likely that Esau's voice just magically changed into Jacob's than it is that Jacob, you know, put on a jacket - so, on with the blessing we go!" The kinesthetic deception successful, Jacob fraudulently receives the blessing and vanishes into the night, moments before Esau returns from his hunt and totally loses his shit.

Interestingly enough, midrashic commentary on this tract, and indeed, this relationship, invariably paints Jacob as the hero and Esau as the villain. The midrash performs all kinds of literary gymnastics in a desperate effort to imply that by "Esau liked hunting" the Bible means "Esau lied to his dad, served idols, commited regicide (seriously), seduced married women, and, presumably, cheated on his taxes (or at least his tithes)". These efforts can seem confusing, until we remember three fundamental points:

1. In the text: Esau (from what little we see of him) acts like a good human being and a great son.
2. In the text: Jacob is clearly a jerk.
3. In real life: The midrashic commentators are all descendants of Jacob.

Make sense now?

Shabbath Shalom.