Classical Hebrew undying

Dr Abigail Zammit

Classical Hebrew is the Hebrew of the Tanakh, the Jewish Scriptures, the very source of the Christian Old Testament. Its first appearance in the historical record dates back to the 10th century BCE, and like the other semitic languages from which it emerged, it was written from right to left and comprises only consonants. By the turn of the Common or Current Era, its use as a spoken language was quickly being superseded by Aramaic and Greek. A few centuries later it was a linguistic relic, its use limited to liturgical and literary contexts, not so different from the use of Latin much later in the Christian west.

‘Dead’ languages bring up the question of relevance. They are limited in their vocabulary, especially when compared to their contemporaries; the Classical Hebrew lexicon amounts to just about 10,000 words. Today, they could not be used for communication, on official documents, or for most conventional things. However, there is one function ancient languages fulfill in a far superior manner—interpreting ancient texts.

Modern translations cannot quite capture the nuance of ancient texts. Translators can only convey ideas after making countless choices in the understanding and rendering of words, all while being consciously or unconsciously guided by their own ideological leanings. Translations are essentially interpretative exercises. Armed with knowledge of the original language, a reader can identify the original authors’ ideology, emphasis, word order, and tone. All of these features could easily be lost in translation. For example, should the word ‘meshihu’ in Psalm 2:2 be translated as ‘his Messiah’ or ‘his Christ’ or ‘his Anointed One’? A choice needs to be made, and that choice does make a difference.

Archaeologists use the same concept when studying ancient artefacts, as do epigraphists, the specialists who study inscriptions. Understanding the inscribed language on items leads to a clearer, more colourful picture of its context and origins. The Malta Government Scholarship Scheme supported me in carrying out such an epigraphic study for my doctoral research at the University of Oxford. My project dealt specifically with a group of inscribed pottery sherds discovered at Lachish (modern Tell ed-Duweir) in Israel. Combined with an archaeological and contextual reassessment, these inscriptions provided valuable insight into the socio-political history of early 6th-century BCE Judah, including scribal culture and the mastery of the contemporary Hebrew language, as well as military operations and prophetic activity, all of which strike similarities with the Book of Jeremiah.

Studying Classical Hebrew can be a rigorous mental workout that instills an appreciation for detail: an insight useful across innumerable fields. Not only does it provide a solid foundation for Modern Hebrew, but it offers a fresh perspective for those wishing to read biblical texts in a critical manner. After all, the Bible remains an iconic cultural artefact in the western world, vital when discussing not only ideology but even cinema, literature, music, and art.

Ancient languages give a voice to our history and the people who shaped it, all the while providing food for thought for those in the present.

For more information: The Department of Oriental Studies (Faculty of Arts, University of Malta) offers study-units on Classical Hebrew grammar, syntax, and readings at undergraduate level.

Author: Dr Abigail R. Żammit

Lighting the way to darker skies

Dr Joseph Caruana

As the sun sets and the sky darkens, a black velvety curtain adorned with flecks of twinkling lights is drawn across the heavens, and a milky white band of fuzzy glow stretches majestically overhead. Unfortunately, this experience is nowadays denied to us thanks to artificial lighting. The sky is often left awash in a cold, jarring glow, making Malta one of only five countries whose citizens are denied the possibility of observing the Milky Way from their home.

A few select coastal sites remain where we can see the Milky Way. But even those are under continuous threat. In 2002 the Malta Environment and Planning Authority designated a number of sites in Gozo and Comino as Dark Sky Heritage Areas, stating that ‘reflective signs shall be employed to guide driving at night, whilst the installation of lighting which is not related to aerial or maritime navigation, shall be strongly discouraged.’ Since then, light pollution has still been increasing and is seriously impinging upon these areas.

To some, the ability to appreciate and study the night sky might be less of a priority, but light pollution affects our lives in many more ways. Our night-time environment is fast becoming a vista of blindingly cold light, and we need to act now to reverse this. Badly designed lighting can result in glare, which is especially dangerous while driving. Light trespassing into people’s homes creates a myriad of problems, ranging from mild discomfort to serious sleep disruption. Studies have linked bright LED lighting with adverse health effects, as it can interfere with our circadian (daily) rhythm. Light pollution also disturbs wildlife. For example, conserving colonies of birds that make their home at the cliffs of Dwejra, like Scopoli’s Shearwater and Yelkouan Shearwater, depends heavily on our efforts to curb light pollution.

The solution is not as drastic as switching off all our lights, but adopting full cutoff lighting in streets to illuminate the ground without spilling light everywhere else.

Luckily, light pollution is a reversible problem. Authorities can choose to bring about positive change, sometimes requiring little effort. Do we really need our public monuments, churches, building facades, and playing fields to be illuminated all night long, oftentimes with skyward-pointing floodlighting? When planning new lights for a road or a public space, should we not consider the impact the proposed lighting will have on the surrounding community and environment?

Conservation of our natural environment is not diametrically opposed to human activity and business interests. Other countries have long recognised the night sky’s potential for eco-tourism.

The Department of Physics (Faculty of Science, University of Malta [UM]) and Institute of Space Sciences and Astronomy (UM) are currently embarking on a new study of our islands’ night sky’s brightness. Interested parties, authorities, and non-governmental organisations alike are most welcome and encouraged to get in touch. It is only through awareness, dedication, and proper coordination that we can help ensure that future generations can still enjoy the peaceful beauty of the Maltese night sky.

Further reading: Falchi et al., ‘The new world atlas of artificial night sky brightness’, Science Advances, vol. 2, no. 6, 2016, e1600377

Author: Dr Joseph Caruana

Onfoħ

Breathing moves air in and out of the lungs. Oxygen goes in, carbon dioxide is flushed out. An exchange occurs within our internal environment. Onfoħ is an installation that explores the phenomenon of carbon emissions through human respiration.

Carbon emissions are loosely defined as the release of greenhouse gases and their precursors into the atmosphere over a specified area and time. This notion is usually linked to the burning of fossil fuels like natural gas, crude oil, and coal. In short—human activity.

From the very beginning, humans have altered their environment. In fact, an average person takes 12 to 20 breaths per minute, amounting to an average of 23,040 breaths per day. The world’s population collectively breathes out around 2500 million tonnes of carbon dioxide each year, around 7% of the annual carbon dioxide tonnage produced by burning fossil fuels.

Although the carbon dioxide produced through breathing is part of a closed loop in which our output is matched by the input from the food we eat, it can be used as a metaphor to visualise other unseen outputs from other man-made sources: transportation, electricity, heating, water consumption, food production.

Onfoħ was designed to engage citizens and address an overwhelmingly challenging environmental problem of our time—our inability to visualise our own carbon footprint. The work does this by showing that which is usually unseen—the physical manifestation of carbon emissions.

The installation consisted of five plinth-like structures, each housing a glass container of lime water. Stencilled onto the pillars were illustrations of lungs, each consecutive pair having decreased surface areas, conveying a sense of degeneration. When the audience interacted with the installation, breathing into the lime water and adding carbon dioxide, they triggered a chemical reaction that produced insoluble calcium carbonate. The clear solution turned milky, making the invisible visible.

Humans contribute constantly to carbon-based, hazardous waste production, and the installation demanded that they face that reality.

Note: The installation was displayed as part of a collective exhibition entitled Human Matter, hosted by the Malta Society of Arts at the end of last year. David Falzon, Matthew Schembri and Annalise Schembri teamed up to work on this artwork as soon as they finished reading for an MFA in Digital Arts (Faculty of Media and Knowledge Sciences, University of Malta).

Author: David Falzon