Jewish Parody and Allegory in Medieval Hebrew Poetry in Spain r 225is a slave of love, Masos is its quasi-martyr.^57 Jacob ben Elazar’s hedonistic
tale of love has returned both the sensuousness of love and its poetry as
found in the biblical Song of Songs, parodic as it may be.
The Tale of Sahar and Kima
In Jacob ben Elazar’s tale of “Sahar and Kima’s Love” in Mahberet Nine,
the reader encounters another aspect of love poetry that differs mark-
edly from the debauchery that is pursued by Yoshefe, Yefefia, and Yemima
and aspired to by Sippor. The hero of this mahberet, young Sahar (l. 62,
he is called na ̔ar throughout), also has a rather interesting background.
While escaping from his authoritarian father, Salmon, a member of the
upper class as is Yoshefe’s family, he reaches the sea of Jaffa and there
finds a group of men fleeing from women (l. 8)! In a parodic rewriting
of the biblical Jonah story, the helpless seafarers, including Sahar, faced
with shipwreck and death because of a storm, promise to give money to
the poor in exchange for their salvation. The ship breaks up, and Sahar is
carried away by a strong wind to the dry land of the city of Sova (Aleppo,
ll. 6–19). Sahar is the sole survivor of the shipwreck, while the others
have been devoured by fish. He sings out the events of the shipwreck and
gives profuse thanks to God, the powerful creator of heaven and earth
and of the forces of nature (ll. 20–55). Meanwhile, in the city, from afar,
Sahar is observed by a beautiful woman who informs her mother of the
new arrival. They spread word of the newcomer’s handsomeness to ever-
appearing new female arrivals, who, while gazing at him, see his hand-
some face turn into that of a sharp-toothed lion (ll. 60–61). The metaphor
cannot be misconstrued. Sahar is not only comely (yefi sahar, l. 65), like
the moon, but also strong and aristocratic. That strength is deceptive, for
he is soon entrapped by two laughing black giants whose spearlike eyes
pierce him (ll. 67–72). He calls them Amalek, Israel’s implacable enemy
whom Israel is commanded to both obliterate and commemorate.^58 The
reader expects to find a valiant and courageous knight, sole survivor of a
shipwreck, ready to challenge his tormentors. Instead, we find that Sahar,
with the face and teeth of a lion, has the courage of a pussycat. He sees
these eyes as battle-ready, shooting arrows, and in metered song he be-
moans his physical entrapment: “From the sea I’ve been delivered / and
in [this] house now I’ve been severed” (nimhasti, ll. 70–72). The brave