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tidbits of wisdom throughout her poems. Love-smitten Sahar, however,
is left “without mind (lev) and knowledge” (da ̔at, ll. 275–76), and he ac-
knowledges Kima’s words of censure and admonishment as she keeps his
advances in abeyance: “Blessed is your good sense, and blessed are you”
(barukh ta ̔amekh u-verukha ’at, l. 318). Jacob ben Elazar’s Sefer Meshalim
is more than a repository of games of love, in which artificial situations
and actors are posed. It is also a moralizing social commentary in praise
of mores, morals, and marriage through the voices of women. The reader
is reminded of his intent in composing this work: “They pose riddles, but
the intelligent and perceptive will comprehend their significance” (intro-
duction, ll. 4–5).
Conclusion
Jacob ben Elazar’s success in showing the diversity of the Hebrew lan-
guage favorably bridges the gap between Arabic literary discourses and
other maqāmas (mahbarot) written by his Jewish contemporaries. His
Sefer Meshalim, or Sippurei ’Ahava, has breathed humor into medieval
Hebrew. His intention to “pun, play, ridicule, and mock,” along with ex-
aggeration and overblown phrases, is notably successful. He has trans-
formed the texts he has used, Song of Songs and others, into moral and
didactic lessons for his contemporaries and for posterity. Furthermore,
what distinguishes this mahberet from others is not only the eloquent or
bawdy language used throughout, but also visual descriptions of duels,
palaces, and gardens. His characterization of make-believe actors turns
them into authentic human beings, visual and sentient. Both Yefefia and
Yemima become take-charge women: Yemima in the slave market, and
Yefefia’s invitation to her rival to join the love nest! If their “protégée”
Sippor is unsuccessful in her quest for love, it is Masos who is to blame.
If the reader is somewhat surprised by the fickleness and weakness of the
hero, Yoshefe, s/he needn’t be, for at the beginning of the tale of Yoshefe’s
wanderlust, he had attached himself to drunken sots, although “his desire
was remote from theirs” (l. 38). He is a “naif” (’ish tam, l. 38). It is only
when he is infatuated with female wares in the slave market that he be-
gins to initiate action, but not for long. With his capture by a woman, he
regresses and only then reacts. He is “led,” instead of “leading,” a captive,
no longer a captor. Instead of a stalwart “hero,” we find aggressive “hero-
ines,” a sexual role reversal, similar to those in many Arab tales. Instead of