CAJS Rare Ms 484 is part of the Moldovan Family Judaica Collection at Penn Libraries and was gifted to the library in 2018.
There is a custom for Jews to pray at midnight remembering the Temple in Jerusalem; the specific ritual prayer is called Tiḳun Ḥatsot. Tiḳun means “a fixing” literally, while in this context meaning “a composition for”, Ḥatsot, midnight.
CAJS Rare Ms. 485 is a manuscript from the Moldovan Family Judaica Collection at the University of Pennsylvania and was presented to the Penn Libraries in 2018.
Known by the title of Pinkas Hartmansweiller, Cajs Rar Ms 485 is a very special manuscript not only because it shows the number of ways Jewish community life developed in the Alsace,but also because, unusually, it shows a unique Jewish settlement in a rural environment.
CAJS RAR Ms 477 caught my eye in December, and when I cataloged it I realized that it is a manuscript which is very multi-faceted and stands out in a number of ways.
The title of the manuscript is Hibat ha-kodesh, which is translatable as “the affection for the holy”. This is the title written on the title page, and it resounds with the tone of the writing; Feivush Friedmann, a “hasid” of the dynasty of Sadigur, embarked on travel from his hometown in the Ukraine to the Holy Land, and after a long and arduous journey settled in Safed in the Upper Galilee, today in Northern Israel.
If you work in an archival repository, you know that no matter how uninteresting or randomly assembled a collection may appear, it probably meant a lot to whoever decided to put it together. Archivists are also used to dealing with the hyperbolic language of the auctioneers from whom collections are sometimes purchased. Everything has to be “unusual,” “rare,” “unique,” etc. to attract the generous offers of the bidders. So, there seems to be nothing special about the note that opens the 15-volume scrapbook set of “Theatricals in Philadelphia”. The anonymous writer – probably an employee of the well-known Philadelphia auction house of Stanislaus Henckels – informs us that “somebody has devoted almost a lifetime in making this collection,” which is of course defined as “invaluable,” at least to “those interested in Philadelphia theatrical affairs.”
But let’s face it: who, in 1920 Philadelphia, could be interested in purchasing a huge pile of materials on literally anything happened on the city stages only a few decades before? Sure, today’s opera aficionados would likely love to read page after page of Pavarotti programs, and admire dusty portraits of the singer clipped out of 1990s magazines; and theater buffs may crave to know more about the time when the Trocadero – which will permanently close at the end of May 2019 – was the kingdom of burlesque, and the 4,000-seat Broad Street Metropolitan Opera House – which was recently reopened as a concert venue – was used as a church. But 3,500 pages of this (and what’s more, in no apparent order)? Maybe it’s a bit too much. Continue reading →
CAJS Rare Ms. 493 is a manuscript donated to the Penn Libraries in 2018 and part of the Moldovan Family Collection of Judaica at Penn Libraries.
This manuscript is called a Pinkas, which is a historical ledger most often owned by a community. The purpose of these were to document histories and people important to the specific community. Also, Pinkasim are sometimes especially valuable because of eyewitness accounts of events and personalities which can be written in the hand of the author.
In this case, a Pinkas was a ledger for Avraham Freimann, a mohel (ritual circumcisor), using it to record each circumcision ceremony, while providing the name of the family and child, the place, date, and often time of day. He often provides even more detail; if a prominent person was in the audience, or another event was taking place.
Bischheim is a suburb immediately north of Strasbourg, the capital city of the Grand Est region of France. During the 18th century Alsacian Jews lived in suburbs and villages around Strasbourg, but most often not in the city. The information provided in the Pinkas is very valuable showing the spread of Jewish life across Alsacian towns in the Strasbourg area.
Freimann visited many towns and some cities to perform his work. Towns and villages cited in Alsace include Botwiller, Mundolsheim, Ittenheim, Haguenau, and Osthoffen; some travels across the Rhine into German lands include mention of ceremonies in Shopfloch, Dresden, Friesenhausen, and Reishaufen.
He also records two ceremonies performed in the presence of a famous philanthropist and member of the courts of Louis XVI of France, Herz Cerfbeer von Mendelsheim (Mendelsheim? ca. 1730 – Strasbourg 1793) and notes his prominence in the entries. Cerfbeer was a supporter of a yeshivah in Bischheim as well.
So, this volume contains Freimann’s eyewitness accounts to historical events as well. For example, he notes hurrying a procedure during an expected invasion on the synagogue he was in by armed mercenaries from neighboring La Wantzenau, though it didn’t happen; as he writes, “God foiled their evil plot”. I will paste the full cataloging note, including the war that was taking place during this time in the Alsace environs:
“Document[ed] events in the community involve the War of the First Coalition between France and the European Powers: a hurried ceremony on 19 Av 1794 in Bischheim during a riot of “haters of Rofichlun [?], שונאי ראפיכלין” from neighboring “Ṿantsine” (La Wantzenau, sometimes called Wanzenowe) would destroy the synagogue, but “God foiled their evil plot” (f. 10r); an elaborate inscription celebrating a family arriving on a boat on the Rhine after being held capture by the invading German troops, in which Shimon b. Mosheh and his family escaped using the Schiffsbrücken (pontoon bridges) near Strasbourg to Kehl in secret while the Germans were dozing (“yeshenim shenat ha-sus”) after the enemies were driven to the Donau, and upon the arrival of the hostages and a circumcision ceremony there was great celebration (f. 13r-13v). He inscribes his grief and sorrow on the day his son was enlisted into service by the armies of Napoleon, in Switzerland, and had to move to Basel to wage war against England and notes that he prayed daily for his return and that he should remain Jewish (f. 19v-20r); the last entry by Freimann possibly mentions his son’s return, during a ceremony in which he served as sandaḳ, perhaps for his grandson. The entries are written in simple form, most being two lines containing the date, name, and sometimes place of the circumcision performed. Written in Ashkenazic cursive script, with many entries hastily written and with different color inks. In a colored board binding with a soft leather spine, likely original.”
The archival assistant will efficiently process the archive of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Center of the University of Pennsylvania in order to make it accessible for researchers. Following archival standards, the archival assistant will arrange the collection in logical and user-friendly order, will describe the material in a finding aid using a collections management database, assess material for conservation or preservation needs, and will house the collection in archival boxes and folders. The Archival assistant will also promote use of the collection through social media.
This is a 300-hour position, with the possibility of extension.
• Interest in the history of the LGBT Center at the University of Pennsylvania and in gender studies
• Interest in history, primary sources, and archival material, as well as an interest in making collections available for research.
• Facility in the use of computer applications.
• Ability to work both independently and with others in a collaborative work environment.
• Strong oral and written communication skills.
• Willingness to take direction and constructive criticism relating to finding aids, blog posts, and other work products
• Willingness to write blog posts about the LGBT Center collection and the work performed in the Special Collection Processing Center and to contribute to the Kislak Center’s Instagram account.
• Experience processing archival collections or using them as a researcher.
• Coursework in historical methods, archival studies, and/or metadata standards
• Reading at least one Romance language
• Undergraduate degree preferred, but not required
As the production of printed matter grows increasingly automated (not to mention digitized), the handwriting of the past feels more precious with each passing year. One of the great pleasures of working in an archival repository is appreciating the wild variety of human penmanship, from chicken-scratch capitals to the ornate, formal calligraphy of diplomatic documents. “He writes a fine hand” is no longer a well-understood saying, and yet I miss the physicality of the phrase: the sense of the appendage merging with the text it produces.
I was reminded recently of how fine handwriting can turn a written document into an object of beauty as I processed a collection of scores by Robert Capanna. Capanna was a Philadelphia composer and longtime Executive Director of the Settlement School, a community arts school with campuses across the greater Philadelphia area. The scores range from the early 1970s to 2016, a span that showcases interesting changes in the way music was drafted and reproduced. For the first few decades of Capanna’s career, he drafted his scores in pen and pencil on onion-skin, sending the finished versions off to the Theodore Presser Company for engraving and printing. You can see this process in Capanna’s score for “Day,” a long work for voices and chamber orchestra which he revised continually over more than ten years; the initial onion-skin draft, which Capanna’s precise penmanship, transformed into a readable (if more pedestrian-looking) printed score.
I cataloged a manuscript which contained three parts, each relating to another. It covers the practical aspects of ritual law, roughly based on the order and topics of Shulḥan ‘arukh Yoreh de’ah, or the code of Jewish law’s section for ritual and dietary law.
A word about the provenance: the manuscript is without a mention of a scribe and originally appeared to have been missing place of writing; all that was apparent was that it was from Italy, because of the Italian captions and the script style. However, there was a passing mention of a conversation the unknown author had with Yeḥi’el Treves, naming him as a local rabbinical figure in Vercelli. Vercelli is a city in the Piedmont, which is in the northwest of Italy. It has a history of Jewish communal life.
The three parts go as follows: The first part is the work Yemin Yisra’el by Yisra’el Malvano, both a practical and dissertation-style work on Hilkhot sheḥiṭah, or the laws of ritual slaughter; this is a work which survives in numerous manuscripts today. Following is a dissertation on Hilkhot ṭerefot (The laws of unfit meats) in which the unidentified author uses illustrations, descriptions, and definitions to Italian to illustrate the laws of defects which render an animal unkosher. Since the inspection for Terefot involves analysis of the anatomical details of the animal, the author created a manual for the slaughterer to study and to teach with. The third work is an abridgment of the text of the Shulḥan ‘arukh Yoreh de’ah, with other information supplied occasionally.
refot involves analysis of the anatomical details of the animal, the author created a manual for the slaughterer to study and to teach with. The third work is an abridgment of the text of the Shulḥan ‘arukh Yoreh de’ah, with other information supplied occasionally.
Above is an example of an illustration in this manuscript; it shows the heads of kosher species of animals. The heading reads ha-Rosh, (the Head); while showing five illustrations of animal heads; Rosh shor (ox’s head, in the center), Rosh gedi (goat’s head, at the corner), Rosh paṿas (with a gander depicted, and perhaps meaning ברוז, barṿaz; lower right), Rosh tarnegol (chicken’s head; upper left) and Rosh aṿaz (duck’s head; lower left).
Below is another depiction in the manuscript; this is a combination of parts delineated in the Mishnah (Hulin 3:1). The author of the manuscript drew the “Keres, beit ha-kosot, meses, ḳevah ve-daḳim” (stomach, recticulum, omasum, abomasum, small bowels); each part is numbered, with the illustration mentioning the author seeing examples such as this one.
Here is what appears to be bronchial tubes:
These are just a few examples of the numerous illustrations in the manuscript. I will provide a list of illustrations and headings from the catalog record:
ha-Rosh, (the Head); five illustrations of animal heads, Rosh shor (ox’s head, in the center), Rosh gedi (goat’s head, at the corner), Rosh paṿas (with a gander depicted, and perhaps meaning ברוז, barṿaz), Rosh tarnegol (chicken’s head) and Rosh aṿaz (ducks head), (f. 36r); ha-Moaḥ – Cerebro (the brain, f. 38r); Ḥuṭ ha-shidrah – Il midolo della spina dorsale (the spinal cord, f. 39v); ha-Leḥayayim – Mascelle (the jaws, f. 42r); ha-Lashon – Lingua (the tongue, f. 42v with double illustrations); ʹEtsem ha-mafreḳet – Osso o vertebre del collo (neck vertebrae, f. 43r); Esofago (the esophagus, f. 43v); ha-Ḳaneh o ha-gargeret – La trachea o dura arteria (the trachea, f. 47r); ha-Reʹah – Polmoni (the lungs, f. 49r); ha-Lev – Il cuore (the heart, f. 63v); ha-Kaved – Il fegato (the liver, f. 65r); ha-Marah – Il fiele (the gall, f. 68r); ha-Ṭeḥol – La milza (the spleen, f. 71r); ha-Kelayot – Reni o rognoni (kidney or kidneys, f. 73r); ha-Em ve-shalpuḥit shel me raglayim – Matrice ossia utero e la urinaria (the matrice, namely the uterus and the bladder, f. 75v); Keres, bet ha-kosot, meses, ḳevah ṿe-daḳim (stomach, recticulum, omasum, abomasum, small bowels, f. 75v); ha-Ḳurḳevan – Il ventricolo, ossia magone (the gizzard, or ventriculous; ‘magone’ is a term specific to Milanese; f. 82r); Bene ha-meʹayim o ha-daḳim – Viscero o intestini (f. 84r); Yede ha-behemah ṿeha-agapayim shel ʹof – Zampe / Ale (the paws of an animal, the wings of a bird, f. 95r); ha-Tselaʹot ṿe-ḥuliyot ha-shidrah – Coste o vertebre della schiena (the ribs or vertebrae of the back, f. 97v); ha-Regel u-pirḳaṿ – Il piedi (the legs and feet, f. 100v).
CAJS Rar Ms 481, Ḳunṭres Imre emet with Ṿikuaḥ ‘al ha-R.M. di Lonzano, was recently acquired at auction, thanks to the support of the Elis and Ruth Douer Endowed Fund for Judaica Collections.
I cataloged a manuscript fragment (or, what originally appeared to be a fragment) of a polemical nature, dated to the first decade in the 17th century in Egypt. The manuscript contains writing from possibly a number of hands, and may have even been partially a letter written by a scribe or transcribed by a scribe for a response, as is the nature of polemics.
The manuscript is 7 folios, unbound but sewn into a gathering. There are two (at least) scribal hands, already identified by Mosheh Hillel in “Ginze nistarot,” in Meḳabtsi’el vol. 38 (Ṭevet 5772), 55-88. Hillel also transcribes the manuscript.
Where do booksellers go when they retire from the trade? Lawyers become consultants (ditto for doctors) and the academy has been known to accept tradespeople from all walks of life on an adjunct basis. But bookselling is not a popular college course, and the range of industries looking for freelance advice from hardened paper-traders is, so to speak, limited. Furthermore, what sort of job would be fitting for the archetypical bookseller’s personality? No other industry combines intellectual contemplation with the thrill of acquisition on such an integral, daily basis.