A battlefield of books: this is how Solomon Schechter described the mass of tangled and damaged manuscript debris when he entered the Genizah chamber of the Ben Ezra synagogue in Fustat (Old Cairo) in 1896 (fig. 2.1). This windowless room, together with similar caches in other synagogues and in the cemetery Basatin in Cairo, yielded over 350,000 fragments of manuscripts, kept today in more than seventy collections worldwide.[1]泭Most of the fragments date from the Fatimid and Ayyubid periods: more than ninety-five percent come from books while the rest are fragments of legal documents, letters, and other pragmatic writings. They were preserved thanks to the long-standing Jewish tradition of disposing of old writings with particular respect, founded on the belief that Hebrew texts containing the name of God are sacred: rather than being destroyed or thrown away, worn out books and documentsboth holy and trivialwere instead placed in dedicated space, a Genizah, to decay naturally without human intervention. This massive necropolis of discarded writings offers us unprecedented knowledge of Jewish life in medieval Egypt in general and of Jewish book history in particular. Thousands of fragments are witnesses to the centrality of Hebrew books in liturgy, in professional activities, and in private life, as well as offering a mine of information about how these books were made and read: their materials, forms, and formats.
Particularly interesting, in this respect, are recent discoveries at the Genizah that attest to the unexpected importance of vertical scrolls, or rotuli, in the book culture of Oriental Jews. Indeed, as a result of a systematic search in various Cairo Genizah collectionsa collaboration between Gideon Bohak of the University of Tel Aviv and myselfnearly 500 fragments of books written in rotulus form have been found.[2]泭Judging from their palaeographical features, they were written in Egypt between the tenth and thirteenth centuries.[3]泭It is likely that most of the rotuli were produced in Fustat and discarded in the local Genizah. However, as we shall see, some of the rotuli were produced in smaller Egyptian towns. It is unclear why the writings from the provinces were discarded in the Fustat Genizah, but their conservation is an important source for the study of reading and book-making practices outside of the Egyptian capital. In this chapter, I will focus on one fragment of a literary rotulusnow Cambridge University Library Taylor-Schechter (henceforth TS) C 1.67 (figs 2.22.3)which was discovered in the Cairo Genizah and brought to Cambridge by Solomon Schechter, Rabbi and reader in Rabbinics at Cambridge University. A detailed palaeographical analysis traced its origin to the small Delta town of Damira. After a brief presentation of the corpus of rotuli in Hebrew script from the Cairo Genizah, I will turn to focus in some detail on the physical description, palaeography, and dating of this rotulus.
The Geniza Rotuli
The rotulus form has been used in traditions of Jewish book making since antiquity. Although no ancient rotuli have been preserved, the Mishnah and the Talmud both mention泭takhrikh泭(蛌蚳), a roll or wrapper. This term usually refers to the practice of attaching together vertically three or more legal documents to facilitate their archiving.[4]泭However, there is some evidence that the vertical scroll form was also used to copy literary or liturgical texts; the Talmud Yerushalmi mentions a泭takhrikh berakhot泭(蛌蚳 蚳蛌), a roll of blessings.[5]泭Yet despite these references, Hebrew books in rotuli form have been largely disregarded by book historians and codicologists, who instead tend to focus their attention on more traditional horizontal Bible scrolls and codices.[6]泭Few would have suspected that preserved rotuli fragments would number so many: until now most known rotuli have systematically been dated before the year 1000, conceived of simply as a transitional hinge between the scroll and codex.[7]泭Yet the recent discovery of hundreds of rotuli in the Cairo Genizah shows not only that this third form of the Hebrew book was much more common in Oriental Jewish communities than previously believed, but also that use of the format extended well into the thirteenth century and even later.
The survival of this ancient book form in the community at Fustat is less surprising when we consider that this form was in fact relatively common in medieval Egyptian society; also among Christians, Muslims, and Samaritans. Indeed, Greek and Samaritan prayers on rotulus are preserved, as are rotuli with excerpts from the Koran in Arabic, probably used for magical and apotropaic purposes.[8]泭Particular to the Jewish rotuli from the Cairo Genizah, however, is their specific function and proficient, professional readership. An analysis of their materiality quickly shows that the overwhelming majority of these Jewish books on rotuli were low-cost copies, often user-produced and destined for a personal devotion, individual study, or as a professional vademecum. It is likely that personal notebooks,泭megillot setarim泭(蛌 蛂蛌蚳), literally personal or concealed rolls, mentioned in the Geonic literature were such rotuli, although the term泭megillah泭usually refers to horizontal scrolls.[9]泭Various factors suggest the economic concerns of the readers: including the use of lesser-quality, often reused writing materials; a lack of decorative features; a high density of the text formed from the small size of its characters; minimal left-hand margins; and reduced interlinear spaces.[10]
Their extremely varied contents, too, shed light on the potentially broad appeal of the fragments. More than 55% of their identified texts contain liturgy. Only a few include standard prayers (for instance TS H 10.310, TS 20.57, TS 6H 8. 3, and TS 13 H 1. 4), while the majority contain liturgical poems or泭piyyutim泭(蚺) (TS H 8. 43). Very few fragments contain passages directly drawn from the Bible: a few fragments of the Psalms exist (TS AS 43. 23), part of a prayer anthology rather than a Biblical manuscript as such, as well as various passages of haftarah (Bodl. MS Heb. b 18. 23; JTS, ENA 3974. 3). A few known rotuli with passages from the Pentateuch (e.g. TS AS 7.2), seem to have either been used as a copying exercise or were a copy of a short portion of the text, rather than that of the entire Biblical book. Secular poetry is attested, for instance, in fragments of work by Judah ha-Levi (TS 13 J 24. 13).[11]泭A small corpus concerns science and泭materia medica泭(TS 20. 150, TS NS 90. 47), while the Genizah also preserves the earliest attested manuscript of the Sefer Ye廜ξrah (Book of Creation) (TS 32. 5, TS K 21. 56, TS K 12. 813[12]), the version used by the tenth-century exegete Saadyah Gaon for his much-renowned commentary. Magic and astrology also feature in the rotuli fragments (Bodl. MS Heb. a 3. 31)[13], as do passages of Hekhalot literature, a mystical body of writings detailing chariot-bound ascents to heaven (e.g. Bodl. MS Heb. a 3. 25a).
Another relatively large group of the fragments contains scholars books. They include Biblical translations and commentaries, for instance Saadyah Gaons Arabic paraphrasis of the Bible, 喧堯梗泭Tafs蘋r泭(TS Ar 1a. 140); lists of Biblical variants and textual difficulties known as 喧堯梗泭Masora泭(Bodl. MS Heb. a 3. 30); and lexicographical works, such as Saadyahs list of seventy words attested only once in the entire Bible (hapax legomena)泭(TS Ar. 53. 9). Likewise, the rotulus seems to have been a favoured book form for students of Jewish legal tradition. Several of the Genizah rotuli contain tractates of the Babylonian Talmud (Bodl. MS Heb. e 52 (R))[14], the Mishna (TS F 2(1) 167), legal compendia such as泭Halakhot Gedolot泭(TS F 5. 151, TS NS 329. 1020),泭Sheiltot泭of Rabbi Aha de Shabha,[15]泭and commentaries or glossaries used to facilitate the study of the Babylonian Talmud (Bodl. MS Heb. b 12. 33, TS G 2. 20).[16]
Lastly, the Cairo rotuli contain several copies of the so-called late midrashim, which seem to be anthologies of earlier Rabbinic texts and quotations, such as泭Pirqa de-Rabbenu ha-Qadosh泭(MS Bodl. Heb. a 2 fol. 24; TS H 7. 21; TS K 21. 85; TS K 21. 94; LG Talm. II. 95)[17]泭or a composition similar to the work published under the title泭The Pearl of Rav Meir泭(Margenita de Rav Meir) or泭The Pearl of the House of Rav泭(Margenita de-bei Rav) (TS C 1. 67).[18]泭In addition to this rotulus, I was able to identify yet another fragment in the Cairo Genizah containing passages of 喧堯梗泭Pearl, a fragment on a horizontal scroll dated c.1000.[19]泭The泭Pearl泭is a short, homily-like ethical essay whose main subject is the punishment for bad actions and the failure to follow Gods commandments in this world and in the world to come. The Genizah fragments are the earliest witnesses to the heritage of this text.
The Damira Fragment
In the following sections, I will focus on the physical characteristics and palaeographical dating of the Genizah rotulus TS C 1. 67. A detailed study of its text is beyond the scope of this materially-oriented essay, however it is important to stress that, like most medieval midrashic and homiletic compilations,泭The Pearl泭is an example of a non-authoritative and open text whose versions vary a great deal from one manuscript to another. Individual manuscripts present important differences of wording and intertwine passages found in other identifiable works within their unique texts. The rotulus TS C 1. 67, for example, contains a passage (lines 14) that appears somewhat closer in content to a collection of midrashic homilies printed under the title of泭Pesiqta 廎仟dta泭(the passage concerning Yom Kippurim) than it does to the corresponding passage of the printed version of 喧堯梗泭Pearl.[20]泭However, despite such differences, the core of the rotulus text and its order in the context of TS C 1.67 does correspond to the later printed edition of 喧堯梗泭Pearl.
TS C 1. 67 is written with black-fading-to-grey carbon ink, on inferior quality, grey, thick Egyptian paper with clearly visible rag fibres. The fragment contains forty-two lines and the text is written in one continuous block on the recto. Paper is the writing material of some sixty percent of the rotuli from the Cairo Genizah studied thus far, and the preserved fragment measures 32.5 x 11.5 cm. It was composed of at least three sheets of paper (kollemata) glued together vertically before the text was written, as evidenced by the written line overlapping two of these sheets in line 3 of the fragment. Only a small part of the upper sheet is preserved but the full width of the rotulus is generally complete, with the end of the line preserved in most cases. As for its length, the rotulus is damaged, torn off at the beginning and at the end. When compared with the printed edition, the preserved portion corresponds to about one third of the text. It is therefore likely that the complete rotulus was originally about one metre long.
It seems that this was an optimal size of a paper rotulus. We know only three Genizah rotuli on paper whose length has been fully preserved: a section of 喧堯梗泭Sheiltot泭of Rabbi Aha de Shabha reconstructed from seven fragments joined together, measuring 120 cm; a copy of liturgical poems on the verso of a reused letter in Arabic by a Muslim official, CUL Add. 3336, measuring 150.5 cm; and a Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Bei廜ζh, Bodl. MS Heb. e 52 (R), measuring 158.5 cm (six paper sheets). Indeed, the Bei廜ζh roll appears to represent a maximum length for a paper rotulus. This version was in fact copied across three rotuli which together formed the same codicological unit, effectively presenting the text in three tomes.[21]泭Fragments of the other two rolls of this same codicological unit have been found too, suggesting that the division of the tractate into three portions, copied on three separate rotuli, was judged the largest practicable solution for accommodating this long text. We must remember that unlike rotuli made of parchment, some of which reached up to three metres, paper was far less resilient: too long a rotulus would be easy to damage and tear. Still, a relatively short rotulus like TS C1. 67about one metre long and also very narrowcould be easily rolled and unrolled when held in the hand. This was a perfect format for a small, inexpensive, light, and portable book intended for personal reading.
The verso of the rotulus in its present state is blank except for a note in Arabic and Hebrew, containing a magical formula for protection of the book against worms:
堥堿 堿 媢 媢堥堭塈 堛塈堥 蛂
kabij kaj mal贖n ibrn蘋 min kitb al-廎仟sid泭[22]
[litt. Kabij kaj is cursed, in Hebrew, from the Book of the Pious]
There are, however, some traces of Hebrew letters at the top of the fragment corresponding to the end of the upper sheet, just above the place where the two parts were glued together. They may suggest that the upper part of the verso, now lost, originally contained the end of the text. As is usually the case with the Genizah rotuli, the scribe did not make rulings to guide the lines of their text; the rotuli are, after all, informal books. This is why the fragments lines are not always regularly spaced, their writing often sinking in the middle of the rotulus and lifting again towards the end. However, here the scribe has taken particular care to justify the fragments long block of writing. The right-hand margin is narrow, only around 1 cm, but straight nonetheless. The margin on the left, though, is not even: most frequently, rotuli scribes tend to run lines of text right up to the papers edge, but sometimes when the writing is either too short or too long for the line, care is taken to reduce calligraphic interference. Here, to avoid large blank spaces, the scribe has created fillers either by extending the upper horizontal strokes of the lines final letters (for instance lines 19, 22, 24, 28, 31) by elongating the letters basis (see 喧堯梗泭nun泭at the end of line 32), or by using a horizontal line, sometimes a mark of an abbreviation, as a space filler (for instance in lines 18, 21, 25, 41, 42). To accommodate the ends of lines that are too long, the scribe chose to write the last word in slightly smaller characters, above the line, with a slant up to the right (lines 17, 26, 37, 38, 39). Besides this textual consideration at a linear lever, there are no other graphic indications of separate sections of paragraphs of the midrash in the fragment, nor any punctuation marks for that matter. The text runs as a regular block of uninterrupted short lines. However, the fact that the lines are short and relatively generously spaced, and given their low density and careful, clear handwriting, the scroll is not uncomfortable to read.
The script is Oriental of the Egyptian sub-type and belongs to the non-square register, similar to that used in legal documents and other less formal books.[23]泭It also contains several cursive features, with characters measuring around 3 x 3 mm. The pertinent features of the script are consistent with Egyptian manuscripts of the first half of the thirteenth century (see Appendix), and both this date and location can be confirmed and further specified by the identification of the scribe of our rotulus as the scribe of a legal document in Arabic in Hebrew script, TS NS J 2 (figs 2.42.5). A systematic handwriting analysis leaves no doubt that the scribe of this text is the same as our rotulus, TS C 1. 67. His name in the related legal document is slightly damaged but can be read as Moshe ben Mevorakh. The document, published in 1971 by Shlomo Dov Goitein, records donations to the community chest (heqdesh) by several members of a family in exchange for the honour of their youngest member, Ibrahim (Abraham), to be chosen to read in the synagogue, intoning the scroll of Esther during the celebration of the festival of Purim in front of the assembled congregation.[24]泭The father of Ibrahim, Ab贖 al-Fakhr ben Ab贖 al-Faraj, also offers in return to relinquish a reimbursement claim for the cost of transport by beasts, perhaps horses, which the community had hired from him for the trip of a prominent visitor. This was a member of an aristocratic family of Mosul, 喧堯梗泭Nasi泭(or Prince of Davidic descent) Joshiah, son of Jesse ben Solomon, who had travelled to Ashm贖n and al-Ma廎仟lla al-Kubra in Lower Egypt.[25]泭Most importantly for our rotulus, this legal record of the donation and settlement contains a precise date and place of writing: in the second third of the month of Adar of the year 1555 of the Seleucid era, that is in February 1243, in a town of Small Damira (Damira ha-qetanah). The town of Damira, situated on the al-Ma廎仟lla canal rather than on the Nile proper as stated in the document, is mentioned in a number of Genizah documents, and according to the twelfth-century traveler Benjamin of Tudela it had a large Jewish community of some 700 individuals.[26]泭As pointed out by Goitein, like other provincial towns in Egypt, Damira was also home of scholars and teachers.[27]
TS C 1. 67 is thus provided with a context of production. But, equally importantly, the precise dating of this rotulus proves that the roll format was still in use for small, portable copies of literary texts in the thirteenth century, both in Fustat and across various Jewish settlements in Egypt. The contents of the Cairo Genizah now rest deep in library vaults, a corpus of minute fragments scattered across multiple institutions worldwide. But cases like this show there are still many codicological puzzles held within them, able to shed light both on the small, personal world of Jewish Egypt and the ongoing presence of the continuous page.
泭FBA (PhD Cambridge) is Professor of Hebrew Palaeography and Manuscript Studies at the cole Pratiques des Hautes tudes, PSL, Paris, President of the Oxford Centre for Hebrew and Jewish Studies and Fellow of Corpus Chrisiti College, Oxford. Her research interest include, Cairo Genizah Studies, medieval Hebrew palaeography, codicology and diplomatics as well as intellectual contacts between Jews and their non-Jewish neighbours.
Citations
[1]泭For the discovery and history of research, see especially Mark R. Cohen and Yedida K. Stillman, The Cairo Genizah and the Custom of Genizah Among Oriental Jewry An Historical and Ethnographic Study (in Hebrew),泭捩梗a鳥勳鳥泭24 (1985): pp. 335; Stefan C. Reif,泭A Jewish Archive from Old Cairo: The History of Cambridge Universitys Collection泭(Richmond: Curzon, 2000); Rebecca J. W. Jefferson, A Genizah Secret: The Count dHulst and Letters Revealing the Race to Recover the Lost Leaves of the Original Ecclesiasticus,泭Journal of the History of Collections泭21:1 (2009): pp. 125142; Haggai Ben-Shammai, Is The Cairo Genizah a Proper Name or a Generic Noun? On the Relationship between the Genizot of the Ben Ezra and the Dr Sim廎仟 Synagogues,泭in Ben M. Outhwaite and Siam Bhayro (eds.),泭From a Sacred Source. Genizah Studies in Honour of Professor Stefan Reif, Cambridge Genizah Studies Series 1 (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2010), pp. 4352; Rebecca J. W. Jefferson, The Cairo Genizah Unearthed: The Excavations Conducted by the Count dHulst on Behalf of the Bodleian Library and their Significance for Genizah History, in Outhwaite and Bhayro,泭From a Sacred Source, pp. 171200; Adina Hoffman and Peter Cole,泭Sacred Trash. The Lost and Found World of the Cairo Genizah泭(New York: Schocken, 2011).
[2]泭Judith Olszowy-Schlanger, The Third Form of the Hebrew book: Rotuli from the Cairo Genizah,泭Report of the Oxford Centre for Hebrew and Jewish Studies泭(20102011), pp. 9091. More fragments of rotuli still await identification. It is not always easy to see immediately that a small fragment belonged to a rotulus as only two rotuli in the corpus are complete with all their sheets still attached (Bodl. MS Heb. e 52 (R): BT, one third of the tractate Bei廜ζh, and CUL Add. 3336, a literary text), and it is not always easy to identify a fragment of a book as belonging to a rotulus. Such a claim can be made when the fragment in question is composed of two or more pieces of writing material still attached together; when it contains traces of stitching; when the fragment displays proportions which are incompatible with a codex; or when it contains a blank verso or a verso covered with the writing by the same hand, but laid upside down in respect to the recto. However, in the case of very small fragments, their identification as a part of a rotulus is only possible when other parts of the same codicological unit have been previously identified as such.
[3]泭A large proportion of the Genizah rotuli fragments are kept in the Taylor-Schechter collection in the Cambridge University Library, but smaller corpora have been located in the Bodleian Genizah Collection, the British Library, the John Rylands Library in Manchester, the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York, the Kaufman Collection in Budapest, and the Alliance Isra矇lite Universelle in Paris.
[4]泭See Mishna, Baba Me廜ξa 1:8; BT Baba Me廜ξa 20b:泭takhrikh shel shetarot.
[5]泭See Shabbat 79b.
[6]泭For probably the earliest mention of the codex among the Jews, see Arieh Leib Schlossberg (ed.),泭Sefer Halakhot Pesukot o Halakhot Reu, attributed to Rav Yehudai Gaon泭(in Hebrew) (Versailles: Defus Serf, 1886), p. 11: 蛌 蛈蛅 蛈 蛌 蚸蛌 蛌 蛂蚺蚳 蛈蛅 蛂蚺蚳, (concerning the ritual reading of the scroll of Esther): If man reads from a codex (鳥硃廜廎必僑), he does not fulfill his religious obligation, because it is written from the scroll (sefer), and the codex is not a scroll. See Nahum M. Sarna,泭The Pentateuch: Early Spanish Manuscripts (Codex Hilleli) from the Collection of the Jewish Theological Seminary,泭New York,泭2 vols. (Jerusalem: Makor Publishing, 1974), Introduction, n. 20; Mordechai Glatzer, The Aleppo Codex: Codicological and Palaeographical Aspects (in Hebrew),泭Sefunot泭4 (1989): pp. 260261; Irven M. Resnick, The Codex in Early Jewish and Christian Communities,泭Journal of Religious History泭17:1 (1992): pp. 117.
[7]泭For instance, Richard C. Steiner,泭A Biblical Translation in the Making: The Evolution and Impact of Saadia Gaons Tafsir泭(Harvard: Harvard University Press, 2011), p. 46, 85, 93.
[8]泭BL Or 5036.1, a rotulus on parchment in Samaritan. See Abraham Tal,泭Samaritan Targum of the Pentateuch泭(in Hebrew), vol. 2 (Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University, 1981), pp. 105109; TS 16.321, a Greek rotulus in Greek minuscule script. On medieval Arabic rotuli, see Solange Ory, Un Nouveau Type de Mushaf泭: Inventaire des Corans en Rouleaux de Provenance Damascaine, Conserv矇s Istanbul,泭Revue des tudes Islamiques泭33 (1965): pp. 87149.
[9]泭On泭megillot setarim泭in a responsum of Hai Gaon, see Robert Brody,泭The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture泭(New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1998), p. 171.
[10]泭Judith Olszowy-Schlanger, Cheap Books in Medieval Egypt: Rotuli from the Cairo Genizah,泭Intellectual History of the Islamicate World泭4 (2016): pp. 82101.
[11]泭Dalia Wolfson,泭,泭Fragment of the Month泭(February 2015), accessed 20 April 2019.
[12]泭For the most recent edition, see Peter A. Hayman,泭Sefer Ye廜ξra. Edition, Translation and Text-critical Commentary泭(T羹bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), pp. 59195.
[13]泭See Gideon Bohak, The Magical Rotuli from the Cairo Genizah, in Gideon Bohak, Yuval Harari, and Shaul Shaked (eds),泭Continuity and Innovation in the Magical Tradition, Jerusalem Studies in Religion and Culture, (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2011), pp. 321340.
[14]泭See Alexander Tal, Between Talmud and Abridgment: A Geniza Scroll of BT Betzah (in Hebrew),泭Ginzei Qedem泭7 (2011): pp. 75144.
[15]泭For a rotulus of Sheiltot reconstructed from seven fragments and copied by Ephraim ben Shemaryah, see Ronni Shweka, Marina Rustow, and Judith Olszowy-Schlanger,泭,泭Fragment of the Month泭(October 2011), accessed 20 April 2019.
[16]泭The Cambridge fragment has been published by B. M. Lewin, Explanation of the Words of the Talmud from an Early Source (in Hebrew),泭Ginze Kedem泭(1934): pp. 167177. See Judith Olszowy-Schlanger, Glossary of Difficult Words in the Babylonian Talmud (Seder Moed) on a Rotulus, in George. J. Brooke and Renata Smithuis (eds.),泭Jewish Education from Antiquity to the Middle Ages: Studies in Honour of Philip S. Alexander泭(Leiden and London: Brill, 2017), pp. 296323.
[17]泭Judith Olszowy-Schlanger, Un Rotulus du泭Midrash Pirqa de-Rabbenu ha-Qadosh泭de la Geniza du Caire,泭Annuaire de lEPHE, 2012-2013 (145e ann矇e)泭(Paris: EPHE, 2014): pp. 2640; Anna Busa,泭,泭Fragment of the Month泭(July 2017), accessed 20 April 2019.
[18]泭The work was edited from early printed editions (alongside two hundred other minor midrashim and ethical works) in two volumes by Judah D. Eisenstein,泭Ozar Midrashim泭(New York: Bibliotheca Midraschica, 1915), p. 355, and by Adolph Jellinek,泭Bet ha-Midrasch, Sammlung kleiner Midraschim und vermischler Abhandlungen aus der 瓣ltern j羹dischen Literatur, vol. 2 (Wien: Br羹der Winter, 1877), pp. 120122. The early printed editions were 喧堯梗泭Reshit 廎寸khmah泭of the Safed kabbalist Elias ben Moses de Vidas (Amsterdam edition, 1737;泭editio princeps, Venice, 1579). This midrash was known and parts of it included into a fourteenth-century Ashkenazi anthology,泭Sefer ha-Zikhronot泭compiled and copied by Elazar ben Asher ha-Levi (Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Heb. D 11), edited by Eli Yassif,泭The Book of Memory, that is The Chronicles of Jerahmeel泭(in Hebrew) (Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University Press, 2001), pp. 9394. In addition, Moses Gaster,泭Chronicles of Jerahmeel or the Hebrew Bible Historiale泭(London: The Royal Asiatic society, 1899), p. lxiv, mentions a Geniza manuscript of the Pearl that he had in his possession, n簞 289. I have not been able so far to identify this Geniza fragment in either the British Library or John Rylands Geniza Collection in Manchester, both stemming from Gasters collection.
[19]泭TS 16. 282, see Judith Olszowy-Schlanger, The Anatomy of Non-biblical Scrolls from the Cairo Geniza, in Irina Wandrey (ed.),泭Jewish Manuscript Cultures: New Perspectives泭(Berlin: De Gruyter, 2017), pp. 4988, n簞 IV.
[20]泭Eisenstein,泭Ozar Midrashim, p. 497.
[21]泭Oxford, Bodlian Library, MS Heb. e 52 (R) was the last in the unit, containing the last third of the text of the tractate and bearing the number three (the Hebrew letter泭gimel) in its upper margin.
[22]Kabij kaj derives from a name of a plant, and was used in Arabic books as a formula of protection from worms.泭I thank Professor Ronny Vollandt for his help with the interpretation of the formula. See Adam Gacek, The Use of Kab蘋kaj in Arabic manuscripts,泭Manuscripts of the Middle East泭1 (1986): pp. 4953.
[23]泭This script register or style is often referred to as semi-square or semi-cursive.
[24]泭Shlomo D. Goitein, Side Lights on Jewish Education from the Cairo Genizah,泭Gratz College Anniversary Volume泭83 (1971), p. 105 ff. See also Moshe Gil,泭Documents of the Jewish Pious Foundations from the Cairo Geniza泭(Leiden and London: Brill, 1976), p. 26.
[25]泭For this family of nesiim, see Moshe Gil,泭Jews in Islamic Countries in the Middle Ages泭(Leiden and London: Brill, 2004), pp. 441442.
[26]泭See Norman Golb, The Topography of the Jews of Medieval Egypt, VI: Places of Settlement of the Jews of Medieval Egypt,泭Journal of Near Eastern Studies泭33 (1974): p. 126.
[27]泭S. D. Goitein,泭A Mediterranean Society: The Jewish Communities of the World as Portrayed in the Documents of the Cairo Genizah, 6 vols (Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 19671986), vol. 1, p. 54, 404.
DOI: 10.33999/2019.03