Abstract
Although the poetics of narrative in the Old Testament have been widely studied in recent years, Joshua has largely been marginalized, appearing only rarely in discussions of narrative. The reasons for this are uncertain, but it means that issues in interpretation remain unclear. Because of this, conflicting readings of parts of the book have emerged. This article notes three variant readings of Joshua 2 that in various ways contradict each other. But rather than arguing for one against the others, or rejecting them all, it argues each is plausible depending on the level at which the text is read. This emerges through the application of the concepts of anachrony and focalization as developed by Gérard Genette. From this, it emerges that these chapters deliberately create an unstable narrative world that readers cannot fully resolve until subsequent information is provided.
Introduction
Although appreciation of the Old Testament's narrative techniques has become widespread in recent years, the book of Joshua has not featured terribly often in the scholarly discussion. As evidence for this, we might note that Sternberg's widely cited study of narrative poetics seldom mentions Joshua and offers no detailed reading of any of its texts, something that stands in marked contrast to his examination of narratives from other parts of the Old Testament. 1 Likewise, although he offers extended readings of many other Old Testament narratives, J.P. Fokkelman's treatment of narrative techniques never considers the book of Joshua. 2 Examples like this could be multiplied, but the basic point would remain the same: in spite of the interest in the narrative dynamics of the Old Testament that has been so prominent over nearly forty years, Joshua is a text that, although clearly a narrative, has sat on the edges of the discussion. 3 Drawing clear conclusions from the relative absence of such studies is not easy, but we might propose that Joshua's narrative techniques are not those which have generally excited those concerned with narrative studies, or perhaps that its techniques stand outside the mainstream of the rest of the Old Testament. Some passages within Joshua have received narrative attention, notably Joshua 2, 4 though some more surprising narratives treatments have also appeared. 5 Yet, in spite of the increased interest in narrative readings, as recently as 2010 Sarah Hall could complain that Joshua has been generally ignored in narrative studies. Although she noted a handful of narrative studies, 6 the situation does not appear to have changed significantly since then. 7
See Meir Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987), especially the index for biblical references for Joshua on p. 578, which shows that only eleven passages from the book are referenced at all. This does, however, sit rather oddly with his observation (p. 317) that the book's narrative art is ‘generally undervalued' since this might suggest that the book had more to contribute to his project than he actually allows.
J.P. Fokkelman, Reading Biblical Narrative: An Introductory Guide (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1999).
There has been a handful of narrative treatments of the book as a whole, most notably L. Daniel Hawk, Every Promise Fulfilled: Contesting Plots in Joshua (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1991), and Sarah Lebhar Hall, Conquering Character: The Characterization of Joshua in Joshua 1–11 (London: T&T Clark International, 2010).
E.g. Aaron Sherwood, ‘A Leader's Misleading and a Prostitute's Profession: A Re-examination of Joshua 2’, JSOT 31 (2006), pp. 43–61, or with a post-colonial twist, Cristina García-Alfonso, Resolviendo: Narratives of Survival in the Hebrew Bible and in Cuba Today (New York: Peter Lang, 2010), pp. 39–62.
E.g. Joshua Berman, ‘The Legal Blend in Biblical Narrative (Joshua 20:1–9, Judges 6:25–31, 1 Samuel 15:2, 28:3–25, 2 Kings 4:1–7, Jeremiah 34:12–17, Nehemiah 5:1–12)’, JBL 134 (2015), pp. 105–25, though Berman does not really address the issues usually considered under poetics.
Hall, Conquering Character, pp. 4–6.
One should, however, add André Wénin's helpful, ‘Josué 1–12 comme récit’, in Ed Noort (ed.), The Book of Joshua (Peeters: Leuven, 2012), pp. 109–38. In addition, though concerned with considerably more than narrative issues, one should also note Douglas S. Earl, Reading Joshua as Christian Scripture (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2010), since narrative elements do emerge in his interpretation.
Of course, although scholarship has traditionally affirmed the importance of research for its own sake, the reality of academic budgets means that issues such as these tend to be addressed only when there is a particular issue where attention to the poetics of the text might lead to greater clarity. Given that Joshua's narrative techniques have effectively been regarded as less elegant than others, is there a pressing example of where such attention would resolve, or at least help to resolve, a key point of interpretation? I submit that there is. In particular, the Rahab story of Joshua 2 has been interpreted in radically divergent ways, even by those more or less concerned with the final form of the book. The aim of the present study then is to note these divergences and explore how attention to the poetics of the section in which this narrative is embedded enables a better understanding of this narrative. It will be argued that this is a narrative which is intentionally ambiguous on a first reading because the text itself creates a world that destabilizes the reader by undermining certain assumed values. Subsequent readers, having read further in the book, gradually receive the resources to resolve the ambiguity through re-reading, but not to the extent that the sense of being destabilized is ever removed. While it seems highly likely that there are various redactional layers in this text, our concern here is with the final form of the text, 8 and we are therefore concerned with how these elements work together in the final form.
The nature of a ‘final form' of a book is itself not without problems, especially when one notes the variations in LXX or particular features of 4QJosha even before considering how these texts relate to MT. However, although one should not equate MT with ‘final form' it is still the best vehicle for accessing it, and within the section of Joshua being considered here any variation from it does not affect the main lines of argument.
L. Daniel Hawk—Agreement with Rahab as Israel's Disobedience
One of the few narrative readings of Joshua is that of L. Daniel Hawk, initially in a self-consciously literary monograph, 9 but since then in two commentaries on the book of Joshua. 10 Hawk notes that the history of interpretation has generally treated Rahab favourably, something that can be traced back to at least the New Testament, where both Hebrews (11.31) and James (2.25) present her as in some way a paradigmatic figure, whilst her inclusion in Jesus' genealogy (Mt. 1.5) would also suggest a positive interpretation of her. 11 Moreover, the general trend of scholarship has been to read her story positively, so that she functions paradigmatically within the book, often because she has been too clever for the spies. 12
Hawk, Every Promised Fulfilled.
L. Daniel Hawk, Joshua (Berit Olam: Studies in Hebrew Narrative and Poetry; Collegeville, MN: Michael Glazier, 2000), and Joshua in 3–D: A Commentary on Biblical Conquest and Manifest Destiny (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2010).
The probable implications of which are explored by E. Anne Clements, Mothers on the Margin? The Significance of the Women in Matthew's Genealogy (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2014), pp. 68–95.
Hawk, Every Promise Fulfilled, pp. 59–60.
By contrast, Hawk sees a pattern of disobedience emerging within the story. In his earlier treatment, he focuses especially on the unexpected elements of this story when read in light of the events of the first chapter. So, unlike the equivalent narrative in Numbers 13, the decision to send spies does not derive from Yahweh's initiative but rather comes from Joshua himself, something that is entirely unexpected in light of the affirmations made by the eastern tribes in Josh. 1.12–18, especially when one also notes Yahweh's promises in 1.3–5. That is, nothing in the first chapter leads readers to expect a spy narrative, and however skilfully it might be told, the fact that a policy is followed which was not commanded by Yahweh must be suspect. Yahweh has commanded Joshua to be strong and courageous (1.6–9), so spies are unnecessary.
Beyond this, he also notes important parallels with the story of Sodom in Gen. 19.1–29. 13 These parallels are particularly evident in the structure of the stories and the fact that both describe visits to cities that are doomed to destruction by Yahweh, though of course there are also a number of important places where the Rahab story reverses those of Sodom, with these reversals forming an important part of the interpretative framework provided by these intertexts. To give only one example, in the Sodom story, it is the angels who must tell Lot to flee to the hills (Gen. 19.17) because they are the ones who have a sense of urgency, whereas here it is Rahab who senses the urgency and sends the men off to the hills (Josh. 2.16). But in both cases, the goal is the survival of the whole family, even if in Lot's case his wife's survival is only temporary (Gen. 19.12–13, 26; Josh. 2.13). According to Hawk, these parallels achieve two things: first, there is a dark mood of association that indicates that something ‘is seriously wrong at Jericho’, and second, the reversals confuse the issue of guilt and punishment. 14 The intertexts thus guide readers to observe what is going wrong in the encounter with Rahab.
Hawk, Every Promise Fulfilled, pp. 64–65, something he develops in more depth in Joshua, pp. 36–40.
Hawk, Joshua, p. 39.
Finally, Hawk claims that Rahab has prevailed over the spies, manipulating them into a ‘serious breach of covenant’. 15 As such, the report brought back by the spies, that Yahweh had indeed given the whole land into Israel's control because the peoples of the land were melting with fear (Josh. 2.24), is simply them parroting Rahab's words back to Joshua. Just as the king's men were bamboozled by Rahab's speech to them when they called at her house to ask about the spies (Josh. 2.4–6), so also the spies have been taken in by her wiles. Because of the oath they have been forced by Rahab to swear, Israel is in danger in the land. 16 In short, for Hawk, the Rahab story shows Israel tricked into an erroneous oath which creates danger for them in the land which the spies do not articulate.
Hawk, Every Promise Fulfilled, p. 70.
Hawk, Every Promise Fulfilled, pp. 70–71.
Another narrative reading is offered by Cristina García-Alfonso, a study which is replete with references to the standard elements of poetics, such as plot, narrator, time and character, though unlike Hawk's earlier studies, she is expressly interested in the relationship between text and reader, and so self-consciously post-modern. 17 However, although she follows through by analyzing these elements, it is also evident that she is drawing on a range of elements that derive from social sciences, such as her treatment (drawing on Phyllis Bird) of the place of the prostitute in the ancient world and what it means for readers that Rahab is presented as an independent woman. 18 In considering Rahab as a round character, then, she draws on both the text's own dynamics and these wider social studies to explore how she related to those around her.
García-Alfonso, Resolviendo, p. 50. Hawk's Joshua in 3–D does move in this direction, but is exegetically dependent upon his earlier work.
García-Alfonso, Resolviendo, pp. 43–46.
Like Hawk, 19 she is also suspicious of some of Rahab's speech, especially her confession of faith. She recognizes this as conforming to standard Deuteronomistic patterns, meaning that she might to some extent still be a victim of the narrator, even as she was probably a victim to some extent in her own society, while still acknowledging that she is presented as embracing faith in Yahweh. But ultimately, this is the way in which she becomes a resolver, doing what is necessary for her and her family to be saved. 20 Thus, at the end of the story both the spies and Rahab have what they want—the spies have the assurance that the land will be delivered, while Rahab has ensured the survival of her family. 21
Though at no point does she interact with him.
García-Alfonso, Resolviendo, pp. 51–54.
García-Alfonso, Resolviendo, p. 61.
Where Hawk examines a range of narrative elements to show that this is a story in which Israel loses and only Rahab gains, for García-Alfonso this is a story in which, allowing for the distortions introduced by the Deuteronomists, everyone wins.
Where Hawk emphasizes the danger that Rahab poses to Israel and García-Alfonso the fact that Rahab's actions show her as one who resolves tension, a somewhat less suspicious (though still critical) reading is offered by Nicolai Winther-Nielsen. 22 He is largely interested in issues of discourse analysis, but considers that the placement of so complex a story in such a prominent position in this book makes it an ideal test case for considering functional discourse grammar. 23 However, his aim in considering this is to interpret the narrative as a whole since this is the goal of the linguistic theories he applies to the text. So, although he is aware of diachronic approaches to the text, and does not regard his approach as necessarily synchronic, he does see points where it supports the conclusions of more synchronic approaches. 24
Nicolai Winther-Nielsen, A Functional Discourse Grammar of Joshua: A Computer-Assisted Rhetorical Structure Analysis (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wicksell, 1995), pp. 105–62.
Winther-Nielsen, Functional Discourse, p. 102.
E.g. Winther-Nielsen, Functional Discourse Grammar, p. 127.
Having examined the clause structures of the chapter, Winther-Nielsen then focuses on the elements of dialogue within the chapter, noting the prominence of conversational units. 25 Rahab's confession of faith to the spies is of central importance, making it the ‘thematic climax of the story’. 26 Although he recognizes ways in which this speech could reflect Deuteronomistic concerns, he argues that the content fits the narrative world well, albeit in terms which an Israelite writer might naturally derive from the Pentateuch. 27 On this basis, he believes that Rahab has offered her ‘unconditional allegiance' to the spies, a daring leap of faith at the risk of her own life. 28 Rahab's confession is deemed to have provided the spies with the information that they needed, as well as demonstrating the psychological impact of divine war, so that although the spies' final report is shaped by Rahab's own confession, it is part of a larger picture of divine providence. Although it does not indicate how the spies' oath can be justified, it stands out as a ‘negotiated exception to the policy of extermination of Canaanite population groups’. 29 Her confession is unexpected, 30 but a straight-forward reading is not only appropriate, it also prepares readers for events which follow in subsequent narrative portions. 31 Rather than creating risk for Israel, the story shows an alternative to the pattern of destroying the indigenous peoples.
Winther-Nielsen, Functional Discourse Grammar, pp. 153–57.
Winther-Nielsen, Functional Discourse Grammar, p 153.
Following Marten Woudstra, The Book of Joshua (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1981), pp. 71, 73.
Winther-Nielsen, Functional Discourse Grammar, p. 157.
Winther-Nielsen, Functional Discourse Grammar, p. 162.
Similarly, Joachim J. Krause, Exodus und Eisodus: Komposition und Theologie von Josua 1–5 (Leiden: Brill, 2014), p. 177.
Winther-Nielsen, Functional Discourse Grammar, p. 162.
So, how should we read the Rahab story of Joshua 2? Is it a surprising account in which a Canaanite prostitute commits herself to Yahweh in spite of the risk it involves to her? An account of a trickster in which both she and the spies have what they want? Or a story where Israel is tricked into swearing an oath they should not have sworn? These readings are all so distinctive that it might seem that we cannot follow them all, and a traditional approach to exegesis would probably proceed by arguing that these readings have missed or distorted some feature of the text and that recognition of this would lead either to the acceptance of one and rejection of the others or perhaps yet another reading. However, it is my contention that, when we pay attention to the narrative poetics of the book of Joshua, each is valid, but that its validity depends on the level at which we read it. This is because Joshua is a text which demands that we re-read it as we progress through the book, and that a key element of Josh. 1.1–5.12 32 is that it is shaped so that readers are disoriented by its narratives with that disorientation being resolved only as we continue through the book. It is because of this process that each of these readings is initially possible. However, as we progress through the book we discover that readings which might have been more probable at first are actually less probable and vice versa. So, one interpretation might be held as a first reading of the narrative, but as readers engage with the wider book they are forced to see that alternative interpretations are more appropriate, even when they might appear counter-intuitive. This process is crucial to the development of the narrative as a whole.
On the importance of seeing 5.12 as a key structural division, marked by its emphasis on the verb רבע see HJ. Koorevaar, De Opbouw van het Boek Jozua (Heverlee: Centrum voor bijbelse Vorming België, 1990), pp. 117, 218–21. Koorevaar focuses on textual features, but these will also be borne out by an analysis of the text's poetics.
To examine this, it is necessary to note two key areas which are exploited by this section of Joshua, elements which we will briefly note are markedly downplayed in the next major section of the book, 5.13–12.24. 33 Although the classic elements of narrative (such as narrator, characterization, scene, dialogue and plot) have been treated by Hall and García-Alfonso, we need to move beyond these to consider more complex elements of narration. In particular, I wish to draw on two elements of narrative poetics outlined by Gérard Genette, anachrony and focalization, since it is through variations in these, rather than the more commonly analyzed elements, that Joshua destabilizes readers. Having briefly outlined these concepts, we will then move on to show how multiple readings become possible, even though readers are probably not meant to hold them simultaneously.
Again, agreeing with Koorevaar (De Opbouw, p. 221), though where he sees these as being equally weighted divisions within the book, I would prefer to see them as components of the larger unit 1.1–12.24. But this distinction does not affect the argument here.
A common assumption about narrative is that the order in which events happen and the order in which they will be recounted will match one another. But we have known for some time that biblical narrators are capable of varying this, using flashbacks and the like to increase interest. This can be demonstrated even within Joshua 2, where the statement in v. 4 about Rahab having hidden the spies must have preceded the arrival of the king's men and their demand to bring them out in v. 3. At its most basic level, therefore, an anachrony can be defined as any point where the order in which events within the narrative are recounted diverges from the order in which the narrative indicates that they happened, 34 though we can expand this to include information relevant to the interpretation of those events and when it is disclosed. Anachronies must be analyzed in terms of two basic concerns—their ‘extent' and their ‘reach’. ‘Reach' is concerned with how far back or into the future of narrated time an anachrony goes, whereas ‘extent' is concerned with how far into the narrative the anachrony goes. 35 So, the anachrony in Josh. 2.4 reaches back into narrative time only as far as the point at which the spies reached Rahab's house, while its extent is similarly limited in that we know all that is necessary about it by the time the narrator comments on it. This is thus of relatively little interest for our purposes in that it provides an immediate resolution to a point of potential disorientation for readers, but it is worth noting simply because it indicates that Joshua is not tied to a mode of narration in which the order of event and recount matches.
Gérard Genette, Narrative Discourse: An Essay in Method (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1980), p. 35.
Genette, Narrative Discourse, pp. 47–48.
According to Genette, there are two basic types of anachrony: prolepsis, in which the narrator provides information relevant to the narrative in advance of it happening, 36 and analepsis, in which this information is provided some time later. 37 A key effect of analepsis is that it forces readers to re-evaluate information that they have previously received, especially if it is what Genette describes as an external analepsis, one which sits outside of the chronology of a particular narrative. 38 This is particularly because the analepsis provides information which readers need to interpret a given narrative more fully only after they have read it. This means that the use of analepsis is important as a means of changing a reader's understanding of a given narrative, though of course there is always the danger that any given reader might not pick up on the elements provided by the analepsis. But prolepsis can also serve to disorient readers if the information it establishes generates anticipation of certain outcomes which are then subverted in some way, especially if this is through analepsis. Moreover, a prolepsis might be an ‘insignificant seed' whose significance will only be evident later 39 It will be argued that Joshua's use of both prolepsis and analepsis is an important tool for disorienting readers.
Genette, Narrative Discourse, pp. 67–79.
Genette, Narrative Discourse, pp. 48–67.
Genette, Narrative Discourse, p. 49.
Genette, Narrative Discourse, p. 76.
The other element to note is focalization, by which Genette means the mechanism by which a narrator restricts the field of view provided to readers, and most importantly the information that is available to them to interpret a narrative 40 So, although a narrator might be omniscient, it does not mean that the narrator will necessarily disclose all the information available. Genette sets up a sliding scale of knowledge disclosed by the narrator, from external focalization in which the narrator discloses no more than the characters themselves know, through internal focalization in which the narrator discloses what a particular character knows, and then to zero focalization in which the narrator knows more than any of the characters. It is only in zero focalization that we are self-evidently working with the traditional omniscient narrator.
Genette, Narrative Discourse, p. 189.
A narrator who employs zero focalization is able to provide all the information the reader needs to interpret a given narrative, whether or not real readers actually succeed in doing so. This is because the narrator's knowledge is made available to the reader. For example, in Josh. 7.1 the narrator provides readers with key information necessary to interpret the whole of the ensuing Achan story by putting it in a framework of Israel breaking faith in the application of םרח at Jericho. Internal focalization greatly reduces the level of knowledge and may be embedded in a larger narrative. Staying with Joshua 7 we see an example of this in Achan's confession in vv. 20–21. Here, we see things as Achan sees them in his report to Joshua, so although the narrator clearly knew them, they are reported to us only through Achan's own testimony. Finally, the decision to employ external focalization means that the narrator allows readers to interpret without access to information which shapes their reading apart from that which emerges in the plot. A good example of this can be seen in Joshua 22, where the narrator never discloses which side of the Jordan the disputed altar is on, nor whether we should trust the statement of the eastern tribes about their purpose in erecting the altar (vv. 22–29). They may be telling the truth, or they might be looking for a convenient excuse-but the narrator, for various reasons, is not interested in filling in those gaps for us. Joshua 22, because of its use of external focalization, is thus a narrative which is much more open in its meaning than Joshua 7, where both prolepsis and zero focalization combine to provide a narrative which is less open to variant readings.
Although the issues of anachrony and focalization occur together in the narrative, we need (for the purposes of analysis) to treat them separately. We begin with anachrony, noting how the narrative creates expectations in readers about events which are to follow, which are destabilized by the Rahab story and for which stability is not restored.
We begin by noting that in Joshua 1 the narrator expends considerable effort in making readers anticipate that the entry to the land will be marked by military action, and this indeed is the only expectation. This is achieved in two key ways. First, there are direct statements about military action which are accessible to all readers, while, second, there are significant allusions to Deuteronomy which might be picked up by more informed readers and which not only reinforce expectations of military action, but do so specifically in the context of the practice of םרח.
Expectation of immediate military action is established by the divine speech to Joshua in vv. 2–9 and then in Joshua's directives to the eastern tribes in vv. 10–18. That military action is expected can be seen when Yahweh assures Joshua that no one would be able to resist Israel on their entry to the land. The language of the inability of the land's inhabitants to resist (נציתי אל) is clearly military in origin, occurring with this sense in both Deut. 7.24 and 11.25. 41 That military action is expected is also evident from the fact that Joshua is told to be strong and courageous in v. 6 because of his role in leading the people into the land. Likewise, in v. 9 he is told not to be terrified or discouraged, language that again makes sense in a military setting where such fear might be expected, something which is reinforced when we note the background of this language in Deuteronomy. 42 Although Yahweh's speech never explicitly speaks of military action (a point to which we will return), the underlying assumption throughout is that it is coming. Indeed, it is what we should expect next.
The clause ונציתי אל occurs elsewhere only in Ps. 5.6. Although it does not describe human military action here, it is clearly understood in terms of Yahweh as the divine warrior.
Deut. 1.29, 7.21 and 20.3 all use similar language in expressly military contexts while it is understood in Deut. 31.6.
This is certainly how Joshua is portrayed as understanding it when he speaks to the tribal leaders about preparations to move into the land. While the initial commands to the officers in vv. 10–12 do not have to assume initial military action, the directives to the eastern tribes make this explicit, most notably when in v. 14 Joshua tells the eastern tribes that they are to cross the Jordan ahead of their kin prepared for war (םישׁמח). In short, the direct comments of Yahweh to Joshua and then of Joshua to the people all presume that military action is to ensue, and nothing hints at the possibility that any alternative is considered.
This understanding becomes stronger when we note the ways in which the book of Deuteronomy provides the background for so much of the material in this chapter, and in particular parts of the book which are concerned with military action and the application of םרח. These intertextual references might not be picked up by all readers, but they work with the material already noted to generate the expectation that Israel will cross the Jordan and begin military activity in which the inhabitants of the land will be destroyed. This is because, as Nelson has noted, 43 this opening chapter is composed as a text which is virtually a compendium of texts from Deuteronomy, with a particular concentration on Deut. 7.24, 11.24–25 and 17.18–19. 44 The last reference alludes to the task of the king in making a copy of the law and is of less relevance here. However, the other allusions support the idea of upcoming military action and thus work together with the surface elements.
Richard D. Nelson Joshua: A Commentary ((Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1997), pp. 28–29.
Though, as noted above, the allusions are wider than this. Nevertheless, these provide a helpful point of reference.
Deuteronomy 7.24, like Josh. 1.5, emphasizes the fact that none of the inhabitants of the land will be able to resist Israel. Indeed, Josh. 1.5a is virtually a quote of the text from Deuteronomy. However, the text in Deuteronomy goes on to add that Israel is to destroy the inhabitants of the land. Although the verb here is דמשׁ rather than םרח, the larger context of the chapter is one in which the law of םרח is expounded, and although the passage in Joshua does not complete the quotation, readers familiar with the source text would certainly know that destruction of the Canaanites is something that goes with their inability to resist Israel. Along with this, it is clear that Israel is not to make any covenant with the Canaanites, something that will be troubled by what follows.
Although Deut. 11.24–25 repeats the assurance of the inability of the Canaanites to resist Israel, it does not add the element of their destruction. But the fact that it comes in a context which encourages Israel to carry out all of Yahweh's commands faithfully means that the destruction of the Canaanites is a key element of what is expected. This would also be reinforced by the fact that Josh. 1.9 cites the language of Deut. 20.3 when warning against fear, and of course Deut. 20.16–18 will also go on to insist on the application of םרח to the inhabitants of the land.
Taken as a whole, then, it seems clear that both the expressed statements made in Joshua 1 and the allusions to Deuteronomy which are so central to it seek to create an expectation in readers that Israel will immediately enter the land of Canaan and begin military action against it. It is by this means that Israel will claim the land as promised by Yahweh and also destroy the local population. These all function as prolepses which will ultimately be resolved, but as it turns out this resolution will be later than we expect. What we do not expect at the end of the chapter is either that Joshua will decide to send spies or that those spies will be saved by a Canaanite to whom the spies will swear an oath that she and her family will be spared. Joshua 1 thus reflects considerable effort to create an expectation of what is to follow, almost all of which will be destabilized by the events of Joshua 2.
Indeed, these prolepses in Joshua 1 are all almost immediately troubled by the events of Joshua 2. At no point would readers familiar Joshua 1 expect Joshua to send spies, nor that those spies on entering the first major city in the land would find shelter with, of all people, a Canaanite prostitute, not that she would swear an oath to save both her and her family, but the chapter itself provides no clues regarding how to evaluate these issues. Readers naturally look for clues from within the narrative that will help them understand these events, and if these are not provided directly within the narrative, they look for them from beyond it. These clues can come either through analepses or focalization. Staying for the moment with the issue of analepses, it is remarkable that although the narrators of Joshua are more than capable of using these, including external analepses which are clearly needed once Joshua 2 has failed to provide an interpretative framework, 45 none are provided in 3.1–5.12. Joshua 2 leaves readers with questions which could lead to an interpretation such as that provided by Hawk or to some extent that of García-Alfonso. Readers are also left wondering if Joshua himself has disobeyed in sending spies rather than immediately crossing the Jordan and commencing the invasion. 46 Indeed, rather than providing a means of clarifying the position of Israel after Joshua 2, the remainder of Josh. 3.1–5.12 continues to raise questions about their position. Admittedly, the successful crossing of the Jordan might suggest that Yahweh continues to be with them in spite of the oath sworn to Rahab, but it is notable that the language of military expectation is reintroduced as we are told that the eastern tribes crossed in preparedness for war (םישׁמח, 4.12), thus linking the crossing back to 1.14. Was Joshua 2 a diversion from the main task, one that Israel can set aside by returning to a more bellicose approach? The difficulty here is simply that while we know the eastern tribes acted in this way, we are not given a framework for interpreting it, for which an analepsis is needed. Further confusion is introduced in the declaration of 4.24 that the cairn at Gilgal would mean that all the earth could know that Yahweh's hand was mighty. The cairn would allow Israel to revere Yahweh, but what might it mean for all the earth to know this? Rahab's confession has shown that she knew this to be the case, and she now appears to be excluded from the םרח along with her family. If this knowledge can bring about this result for Rahab, might this also be the case for other Canaanites? Rahab's confession thus now serves as a prolepsis which raises questions about the meaning of this declaration, and its possible implications for the Canaanite population, once again troubling the seemingly straightforward perspective of Joshua 1.
For example, Josh. 11.19 provides a framework for reading the story of the Gibeonites in Josh. 9.
So, Sherwood, ‘A Leader's Misleading’.
Finally, the account of the circumcision and celebration of Passover in 5.1–12 generates further confusion for readers. The law in Exod. 12.48 makes clear that no uncircumcised male may celebrate Passover, so at one level the fact that the males are circumcised before the Passover is entirely appropriate. But since male circumcision was meant to be a defining marker of Israelite identity (Gen. 17), we are confronted by another point of uncertainty. What sort of Israel has entered the land if it is not one which lives in conformity with Yahweh's requirements? Indeed, given that Deuteronomy is more concerned with circumcision of the heart, 47 a phrase which refers to the ability of Israel to obey Yahweh, we might wonder if this is indeed a nation which is capable of obeying all that Yahweh requires, even if action is taken here to address this particular problem. Rather than providing insight regarding how to interpret Joshua 2, further questions are raised about the status of the spies (as uncircumcised) and therefore about their ability to understand what Yahweh requires. Although there are no direct comments, the few analepses we do find serve only to disorient readers further in their understanding of Israel's position on their entry into the land. The prolepses of Joshua 1 create a set of expectations all of which are challenged and disoriented by the narratives that follow.
Deut. 10.12–16; 30.6.
Anachrony is an important narrative tool in these chapters, but it needs to be interpreted along with focalization since it is the intersection of these narrative tools which is vital to understanding the means by which the narrator destabilizes readers (though without actually misleading them), and it is awareness of this intersection which will open up the possibility of a reading such as that of Winther-Nielsen.
As noted, focalization is concerned with the degree of knowledge a narrator discloses relative to the knowledge of the characters within a narrative. What is remarkable about the whole of Josh. 1.1–5.12 is that the narrator operates from a perspective of external focalization, in which the knowledge that is disclosed by the narrator never exceeds that of the characters. Although this sometimes shades into internal focalization, the standard position is external. Once we move into the next major section of the book (5.13–12.24) there is a remarkable shift to zero focalization in which the narrator clearly knows more than the characters and provides information required by readers to interpret events. So, as we enter the Jericho story (5.13–6.27) we are told in advance that the city was locked up and so would need to be besieged (6.1). In addition, before the main events of the siege can begin we are told of Yahweh's promise to Joshua that the city would be captured and even of the means by which this would happen (6.2–5). There is no scope for readers to be confused despite an exceedingly odd battle plan. Likewise, the Achan story commences with an announcement of Israel's sin and the news that Yahweh's anger is now directed against Israel (7.1), while readers not only know in advance of the deception of the Gibeonites (9.3–6), they also know of Israel's failure to consult with Yahweh before entering into a covenant with them (9.14). Likewise, we are told why the various cities were destroyed in chs. 10–11 (11.16–20). 48
Although the comment here is an analepsis, it is consistent with the focalization through those two chapters, and the only point of clarification for readers is how they are to relate these two chapters to the preceding account about the Gibeonites.
The narrators of Joshua are thus perfectly capable of providing external focalization when they wish, but in 1.1–5.12 they choose not to. 49 Hence, throughout these chapters we follow the characters as they engage with the various situations before them but are not given information within the narrative which enables us to know whether or not the actions of the characters are appropriate. So, in Joshua 2 we know that the spies go to Rahab and swear an oath to her but are provided with no information to interpret this. Although we might have expected that the crossing of the Jordan would have employed zero focalization, it too uses external focalization. For example, although Joshua tells the people to expect something miraculous (3.5), the means by which the miracle will occur is announced only through Joshua's report to them rather than directly by Yahweh in advance. Each stage of the journey is reported as it happens, but the narrator persists with external focalization. Similarly, the matter-of-fact reporting of the circumcision and Passover (5.1–12) does not break from this model, so that Yahweh's perspective is only revealed after the circumcision has taken place.
In passing, we should note that Josh. 22 (which similarly disorients its readers) also switches to external focalization.
All of this makes the use of external focalization in Joshua 1 particularly striking. Although this chapter is full of prolepses, none of them comes directly from the narrator. Rather, they all occur in the speeches and actions of the characters in the chapter. For this reason, it is important to distinguish between the explicit statements in it and the intertextual allusions. What we note when we return to the surface statements is that none of them actually require that Israel enter the land and immediately engage in military action. Rather, they are all conclusions that the characters make based on Israel's position at that time, but they are never affirmed as correct or necessary by the narrator. Yahweh's speech to Joshua certainly assures him that he will grant the land to Israel and that none will be able to resist, but it notably does not assert that this has to be because of military action and thus the destruction of others. Joshua is required to obey the Torah fully (1.7–8), but since Deuteronomy has also included passages which allow some possibility for foreigners, 50 there may at least be some possibility for their inclusion within Israel. Destruction might be the most obvious outcome, but it is never expressly indicated as the only possible outcome. Likewise, when Joshua directs the eastern tribes to cross prepared for war (1.14) he is presented as drawing an implication from Yahweh's speech, not as something which is the only way of acting. The key point for us to notice here is that the use of external focalization means that the narrator offers these prolepses from the perspective of the characters within the narrative without necessarily affirming them as correct. They, along with the conclusions informed readers might draw from the allusions to Deuteronomy, are possible implications, but they are not necessary ones, even if the abundance of them might lead us to expect that they are correct.
E.g. Deut. 29.11.
It is this combination of factors which makes possible a reading such as that of Winther-Nielsen. If the narrator never indicates that the agreement with Rahab is inappropriate, then it is entirely possible that we are to regard it as acceptable. But, actually, at the end of Joshua 2 we cannot know if any of the readings are correct. As disoriented readers, we know only that there is a conflict between the expectations created by Joshua 1 and what follows through to 5.12. It is only after this point that readers are provided with the information that allows them to at least begin the task of resolving these, though without ever fully doing so.
The combination of external focalization and a preponderance of prolepses that lead in one direction but a narrative which appears to be resolved in another, means that Josh. 1.1–5.12 creates a text which deliberately disorients readers, leaving them unable to resolve questions that the final form of the text generates. Each of the readings we have noted above is, if we remain within the confines of this particular text, entirely plausible. Indeed, a good case can be made for privileging Hawk's reading since it is particularly attentive to the prolepses of Joshua 1 and its links to Deuteronomy. García-Alfonso's reading has the benefit of not attempting to resolve the challenges posed by these different perspectives and recognizing the lack of resolution within the narrative and so is also of value. But these are, I would suggest, more probable as first readings of Joshua 2—as readings which do not then give attention to the ways in which the subsequent narrative at least begins to resolve the uncertainties so that by the time we reach the statement about Joshua's complete obedience in 11.15 we are forced to re-read Joshua 2 to understand it as an expression of obedience, albeit obedience in an unexpected form. This re-reading is more consistent with that of Winther-Nielsen, but it is a reading which only works when we understand it as a second reading of the narrative because the ambiguous narrative world created at the time of a first reading will not allow it to be the only possibility at this point. Joshua's careful deployment of narrative techniques has thus created a world of ambiguity which readers can only decode slowly, one in which all readings are challenged by other elements of the text, requiring continuing re-reading. The techniques employed here are distinctive when compared to other narrative texts in the Old Testament, which is why we need to develop a better understanding of Joshua's narrative poetics.
