Moses Arragel’s vernacular Rabbinics in the Biblia de Alba

Full page manuscript illumination showing Rabbi Moses Arragel presenting his completed Castilian Bible translation and commentary to his patron Don Luis de Guzmán

Rabbi Moses Arragel presents Arragel Bible to Don Luis de Guzmán, Biblia de Alba (f25v). Source: facsimile-editions.com

1420: Rabbi Moshe Arragel of Guadalajara was in a quandry. The powerful Luis de Guzmán, a high-ranking nobleman and Master of the influential Order of Calatrava invited him (and this was an invitation that the Rabbi could not refuse) to collaborate on a ground-breaking translation of the Hebrew Bible into Castilian, with an accompanying commentary interpreting both Jewish and Christian exegetic traditions. He was to work under the supervision of a Catholic priest, a Franciscan Friar who would represent the Christian interpretations, but Guzmán assured Arragel that he would have freedom to represent both traditions, provided that he gave no offense to Christianity.

This project was unique for its time (insofar as we know from the documentary record that has survived). Iberian Rabbis did not typically work in Castilian. When they did, such as the case of Rabbi Shem Tov ben Isaac Ardutiel of Carrión (known in Spanish as Shem Tov or Santób de Carrión), it was at the behest of a powerful Christian noble or king. Unlike Arragel’s translation and commentary, Ardutiel’s Proverbios morales (ca. 1330) were not meant to be a true representation of Jewish tradition, nor did he cite Jewish sources, or enter into the details of Rabbinic interpretations of Biblical texts that were by nature polemical in that they differed and at times contradicted Christian interpretations. Arragel was breaking new ground with this project.

The work is fascinating on a few levels. The glosses are a treasure trove of late medieval intellectual, rabbinical, and theological material. Arragel brings a considerable background in Rabbinics, science, and general knowledge to the project. Scholars have written excellent studies on its linguistic characteristics, its illuminations, and to a certain extent, its treatment of Jewish and Christian traditions. What I find most fascinating is Arragel’s engagement with the vernacular culture of his day: turns of phrase and colloquialisms, his use of popular verbal and literary genres such as proverbs and exempla, his tendency to explain Biblical society in terms familiar to his 15th-century audience, and his innovation in recasting rabbinic concepts and arguments in vernacular Castilian. Arragel’s Bible is the richest repository of the Iberian Jewish vernacular for the pre-expulsion period, hands down. Here I will give a few examples of his innovative use of colloquialisms, proverbs, exempla. I’ll explain how he translates the world of the Bible and the Rabbis for his 15th century Castilian readers, and make some suggestions to what is at stake, culturally and intellectually, in his doing so.

page from a thirteenth- or fourteenth-century Yemeni manuscript of Maimonides' Guide to the Perplexed

Page from manscript of Maimonides’ Guide for the Perplexed (Yemen, 13th-14th c.) Source: wikipedia.org

Hebrew was not in any sense a vernacular language for Iberian Jews and had not been a vernacular language since the days of King David (ca. 1000 BCE). It was a language of learning, and, like Latin for learned Christians, sometimes pressed into service as a lingua franca between Jews whose vernaculars were mutually unintelligible. When Jews wrote in Hebrew, they did not have access to the expressive repertory of the vernacular. We know, for example, that Iberian Rabbis gave sermons in the vernacular, but recorded them in Hebrew. We have a few examples of medieval Jewish verse in the vernacular, such as the versification of the Joseph story (Coplas de Yosef), or the Proverbios morales of Rabbi Shem Tov Ardutiel we mentioned above. As I have written elsewhere, these contain some very interesting examples of how Jewish writers blend vernacular Castilian and religiously Jewish textual sensibilities. But Arragel’s work shows us just how deep this particular rabbit hole goes. He is perfectly at home in the vernacular, and, like Ardutiel, free to mine the full range of vernacular rhetorical resources for his purposes as a Biblical commentator. This brings the stories and arguments alive for Castilian readers in ways that are simply impossible in Hebrew, which could not resonate in the same way for Castilian speakers.

Manuscript illumination depicting a woman in a stockade in a public square with two onlookers, one throwing eggs and the other holding a trumpet.

Public shaming in stockade (with eggs) Coutumes de Toulouse (1295) BNF Latin 9187 f.30v Source: gallica.bnf.fr

In his commentary on the Joseph story, he renders an argument by Rashi into colloquial Castilian. Rashi makes the point that “Esto asy Joseph fizo porque se non auergonçasen sus hermanos en plaça”” (Gen 45 :1) (Paz y Meliá, Biblia de Alba: Genesis 156) Rashi: “He could not bear that the Egyptians should stand by him witnessing how his brothers would be put to shame when he made himself known to them.” For Castilian speakers, the phrase “Avengonzarse en plaza” (‘being shamed in plaza,’ i.e., in public) is close to their lived experience; they have been ‘shamed in the plaza,’ and have heard people speak in exactly those terms. They have embodied experience linked to this language in ways that they do not with the Hebrew term Rashi uses, מִתְבַּיְּשִׁין (mitbayyeshín). And this is only considering Arragel’s Jewish audience. His Christian audience, save for a very few learned clerics or converts from Judaism, would have had very limited access to the commentaries of the Rabbis.  While it is true that Christian clerics read Latin commentaries, such as the highly influential Postillae of Nicholas of Lyra, that drew on Rabbinical sources, Arragel’s commentary brought the Rabbis to life for readers of Castilian in ways that must have greatly expanded their notion of Rabbinical discourse, and of Jewish tradition in general.

manuscript illumination depicting a royal feast. King and queen are seated at the center of a table loaded with dishes, flanked by servers. In the foreground an ensemble of musicians play wind instruments, drums, and strings.

A medieval depiction of a feast; Speculum humanae salvationis, London, 1485-1509; British Library, Harley MS 2838, f.45r. Source: www.bl.uk/

The story of Jacob’s vision of angels moving down and up a celestial staircase or ladder is well known. On his way from Beersheva to Haran, he beds down in the wilderness, using a stone for a pillow:

He came upon a certain place and stopped there for the night, for the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of that place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place. (Gen 28:11)

The rabbis have a lot to say about this pillow (as they do about most things). Arragel’s characterization of the Talmudic Rabbis’ tendency toward over-interpretation is clear in how Arragel summarizes Talmudic interpretations of Jacob using a stone for a pillow:

E tomo de las piedras del lugar e puso a su cabeçera: Deste dezir fazen los talmudistas grande fiesta, e non lo judgan al pie de la letra… (Paz y Meliá, Biblia de Alba: Genesis 140)

And he took a stone from the area and put it under his head: The Talmudists go wild with this passage, and do not interpret it literally….

Fazer grande fiesta is attested in medieval usage in a number of texts, always in the literal sense of ‘celebrated heartily’; this is the only example I have seen where it is used figuratively, even playfully.

When Rabbis give hypothetical examples to illustrate legal arguments involving two or more parties, they often use the convention of referring to them as Reuben and Simon (Fulano y Mengano in Spanish, maybe John and Jack in English). For example, “If Reuben owns an ox that gores a donkey belonging to Simon…”

Arragel adapts this convention for his Castilian readers, replacing Reuben and Simon with Juan and Pedro (Shem Tov Ardutiel of Carrión also did this in his Proverbios morales). For example, Genesis 42:01 tells how Jacob, suffering a famine in his homeland of Canaan, learns that there are stores of grain in Egypt: E vio Jacob que hauia çiuera en Egipto, etc. (and Jacob saw that there was grain in Egypt). Obviously it is impossible to literally see all the way from Canaan to Egypt. Jewish commentators disagree as to how to best resolve this passage: some say that Jacob received a vision from God of the grain to be had in Egypt, so in a sense actually ‘saw’ it. Others say that Jacob literally saw people arriving from Egypt carrying sacks of grain. Arragel follows the interpretation of his countryman Abraham ibn Ezra (ca. 1080- ca. 1165), who says that in this case, ‘saw’ is metaphorical, in the same way that we say ‘I see’ for ‘I understand,’ framing this in terms of the perception science of his day:

por quanto syn dubda los çinco sentidos se juntan a vn lugar e ally se canbian el vno por el otro, que en veyendo la miel, la setençiamos dulçe, e en veyendo la fiel, la seteçiamos amarga, en caso que las non tastemos. En oyendo cantar a Pedro o a Juan, cognosçemoslos, avnque los non veamos estonçe, asy que con el sesto sentido que llaman el seso comun. (Paz y Meliá, Biblia de Alba: Genesis 154)

 

therefore, it is without doubt that the five senses come together in one place and there change places, so that in seeing honey, we think it sweet, and in seeing bile, we think it bitter, in the event that we do not actually taste it. When we hear Pedro or Juan singing, we know them, although we do not see them, and so it is with the sixth sense which we call common sense.

A painting of a worker driving a team of oxen trampling wheat stalks as other workers to the left and right collect the stalks to be trampled.

Using cows to trample wheat, from the Tomb of Menna, New Kingdom (wall painting) Egyptian 18th Dynasty (c.1567-1320 BC); Valley of the Nobles, Thebes, Egypt Source: wikipedia.org

Arragel’s use of vernacular language to interpret this passage doesn’t end there. To illustrate the argument of Rashi that Jacob literally saw grain in Egypt in a divinely-inspired (but not prophetic) vision, he gives the following aggadah (narrative explanation for a Biblical passage, meant to illustrate the sense of a passage but not authoritative in rabbinical argument):

otros dizen que vn rrio de Egipto a Chanaan yua, e Joseph, sintiendo que sus hermanos e padre en persecucion de pan serian, que echara por el rio pajas con espigas e que llegaron a Chanaan. (Paz y Meliá, Biblia de Alba: Genesis 129)

 

Others say that there was a river flowing from Egypt to Canaan, and that Joseph, knowing that his brothers and father would be looking for bread, threw straw with spikes into the river and that they arrived in Canaan.

It’s hard to know who the ‘others’ are to whom Arragel refers. Usually when he says this what follows is an interpretation not found in the commentaries of the Rabbis. This explanation is not found in any Biblical commentary; it is, however, found in the Coplas de Yosef, a 14th-century Castilian Jewish versification of the Joseph story:

Ya’aqob en esa tierra, allá donde estaba,
al río se fuera y las aguas miraba:
mucha paja viera que en el río andaba,
esta paja fuera que derramó Yosef
(Girón-Negrón and Minervini 141, st. 76)

Jacob in that land [Canaan], where he dwelled,
went to the river and looked at the water:
he saw a lot of straw floating in the river,
it was straw that Joseph had scattered

Apparently, both the author of the Coplas de Yosef and Arragel were drawing on a local midrash (interpretation of a Biblical verse) that, while unattested in any prior Jewish commentary, has its source in a Castilian folk legend (later collected from a 20th century informant), explaining the origin of the name of the town, Tedeja (Girón-Negrón and Minervini 249 n 74–78). Here, the straw floating down the river announces the victory of Christian forces over their Muslim opponents that took place upriver from Tedeja:

Les echaron al río [las pajas] para ver la señal de lo que iban a hacer. Cuando llegaba el agua del río con las pajas es que habían ganao la batalla. Que ha habido una batalla ahí, sí, porque han salido muchos restos ahí en eso. La batalla fue en Tedeja. Y dijo el rey moro: ‘¡Ahí te dejo!’ y por eso se llama Tedeja (Pedrosa 94–95, no. 72)

 

They threw [the straw] in the river to see the sign of what they were about to do. When the river water with the straw arrived, they had won the battle. [Informant: Yes, there was a battle there, they found the remains of it. The battle was in Tedeja]. The Muslim king said: “I leave you [te dejo] there!” And that is why it’s named Tedeja.

In addition to material drawn from folktales, Arragel also makes good use of refranes (popular sayings; proverbs) in his explanations of Biblical passages. In Genesis 39, Potiphar’s wife unsuccessfully attempts to seduce Joseph, then tells Potifar that it was Joseph who tried to rape her. The rabbis distinguish between what she said and what she did, making the point that there is a big difference between saying something and actually doing it:

Fazer e dezir dos cosas son: asy que ella non auia de dezir saluo: esto e esto me dixo tu sieruo; pero dixo fizo, por lo qual raby Salamon [Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac of Troyes, aka Rashi] pone quel su marido estando con ella a lo que ya sabedes, e era tanto como que le dizia que se auia echado con ella. (Paz y Meliá, Biblia de Alba: Genesis 151)

 

Doing and saying are two different things: so, she should have said ‘your servant told me such-and-such; but instead she said ‘did,’ to which Rabbi Solomon [ben Isaac of Troyes, aka Rashi, ca. 1050-ca.1120] posits that as her husband was with her, which you already know, and it was as if she had told him that he had slept with her [by force].

Here Arragel deploys a refrán that is attested in Castilian works both Christian (the anonymous El Cavallero Zifar, ca. 1300) and Jewish (Shem Tov Ardutiel’s Proverbios morales, ca. 1330), as well as in the proverb collection by the Iñigo López de Mendoza, the Marquis of Santillana, Refranes que dizen las viejas tras el fuego (‘Refranes that old ladies tell around the fire’), which I mention just because the title is so cool.

A poster on a telephone pole announces: "Lost Chicken, goes by the name FeFe. If found, please call Melissa. Huge reward will be given!"

Lost chicken poster, Photo: Mark Krynsky 2013. Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/krynsky/10768955643/

My favorite of Arragel’s refranes rabínicos (‘Rabbinical proverbs’) is in his discussion of the rape of Dina by Prince Hamor of Shechem (Gen 34). The tale inspired not only a medieval Castilian ballad that continued to be sung by Sephardic Jews into the 20th century, but also a 17th-century play by the famous Lope de Vega. Jacob’s only daughter Dina sneaks out of the house to hear the singing of the local women in the street. Prince Hamor, son of the King of Shehem, sees her and sexually assaults her. The King offers to marry Dina to his son (ostensibly to legitimate the assault, to which Jacob agrees). However, her older brothers Reuben and Simon (the actual ones, not the legal fiction placeholders in the example above) aren’t having it. Having agreed to join the Israelite religion prior to marrying Dina, Prince Hamor and all his men were circumcised. The day after the circumcision, while they were still quite sore and indisposed, Reuben and Shimon take the opportunity to attack them, and avenge the attack on their sister by putting them all to the sword. You can see why this episode inspired so many narrative interpretations.

But we are here to talk about Arragel’s clever use of refranes. Rabbis tend to frame the tale as an admonition for women and girls to stay at home due to the danger that awaits them in the street. Arragel sums up his discussion of the passage saying:

Nota que la muger e la gallina por sallyr de casa se pierden, e ençerradas onestamente estar deuen. (Paz y Meliá, Biblia de Alba: Genesis 159)

 

Note that women and hens often get lost when they leave the house, and should rather remain chastely locked away [at home]

We find this refrán again in Santillana’s collection:

La muger [y] la gallina por andar se pierde[n] ayna. (Santillana 94, no. 374)

The woman and the hen, roaming about, often become lost.

Arragel’s work is greatly enriched by his use of vernacular language, turns of phrase, and popular sayings. He deftly uses the expressive resources of vernacular Castilian to enrich and enliven his unique work of Biblical commentary, making it more relevant to his medieval Castilian audiences. For modern readers, it is a unique window into how medieval Iberian Jews read Biblical and Rabbinical texts through the lens of contemporary language and culture.

Works cited

  • Girón-Negrón, Luis M., and Laura Minervini. Las coplas de Yosef: entre la Biblia y el Midrash en la poesía judeoespañola. Gredos, 2006.
  • Paz y Meliá, Antonio, editor. Biblia de Alba: Éxodo. 1899, http://bdh.bne.es/bnesearch/detalle/bdh0000171563.
  • —, editor. Biblia de Alba: Genesis. 1899.
  • Pedrosa, José Manuel. Héroes, Santos, Moros y Brujas: Leyendas épicas, históricas y mágicas de la tradición oral de Burgos: Poética, comparatismo y etnotextos. Elías Rubio Marcos, 2001.
  • Santillana, Iñigo López de Mendoza. Refranes que dizen las viejas tras el fuego. Edited by Hugo O. Bizzarri, Edition Reichenberger, 1995.

 

Shared Storyworlds in Jewish, Christian, and Muslim Retellings of the Hebrew Bible in Medieval Iberia

Adam and Eve from the Alba Bible

Adam and Eve’s expulsion from Eden in the Alba Bible (15th c.)

Medieval Iberians of all three religions participated in a common culture of retellings of material from the Hebrew Bible that fused the doctrines of Islam, Judaism, and Christianity with the vernacular languages and cultures common to all three groups. This shared storyworlding is expressed in a body of texts that includes versifications, chronicles, translations, art, and exegesis. Here I will discuss how the use of a vernacular common to all three religious groups shapes the creation of a shared storyworld that brings together Jewish, Muslim, and Christian audiences, at times through Biblical traditions, languages, and vernacular culture.

Cain bites Abel on neck

Cain bites Abel on neck, Alba Bible (15th c.)

It makes sense that vernacular retellings of the Hebrew Bible, as opposed to those written in classical languages of a given religious group (Hebrew, Classical Arabic, Latin) were the most accessible to members of all three groups who shared a common language. This is not true in every circumstance, however. Not all Granadan Muslims, for example, were speakers of Castilian in the year 1300 (when Andalusi Arabic was still dominant), and so would not comprehend retellings in Castilian. Most Jews were not likely to hear Castilian or Catalan Biblical tales in sermons by Christian priests except when they were mandated to attend sermons preached by Dominicans and Franciscans. However, there are many retellings that are linguistically, culturally, and situationally accessible across groups, and this access makes it possible for these groups to develop a shared understanding of the storyworld of the Hebrew Bible.

picture of Story World create-a-story kit

Storyworld Create a Story Kit (source: https://www.candlewick.com/)

What is a storyworld? The idea of storyworld grows from the reader reception theory of the 1970s and 80s in which the object of study is not only the text, but rather extends to the experience of the audience as part of the constitution of the literary work. That is, the text is only one part of the work. We can think of the storyworld as a collaboration between text and audience. This approach is useful for studying the interactions between different religious traditions, because the focus on audience experience helps us conceptualize the continuity of experience between texts and audiences representing distinct religious traditions but shared literary experiences.

One of the earlier theorists of the storyworld, Seymour Chatman, posited the binary of discourse and story, in which the discourse refers to the text, and the story is “the continuum of events presupposing the total set of all conceivable details actually inferred by a reader [audience]” (Chatman 28; Thatcher 28). For the narratologist David Herman, storyworlds are simply “the worlds evoked by narratives” (Herman 143).  María Ángeles Martínez builds on these ideas, adding that “storyworlds are mental models of situations and states of affairs which are linguistically or multimodally prompted by narrative discourse” (Martínez 28).

What does a storyworld do? How is it a useful tool for reading retellings of the Hebrew Bible? Scholars of contemporary media use it as a construct to study audience interaction with coherent multi-platform or ‘transmedial’ narrative worlds (Ryan), such as Star Wars narratives that proliferate across film, novels, graphic novels, and videogames.

cover of Lego Star Wars videogame showing lego minifig characters holding light sabers

Lego Star Wars video game (source: https://starwars.fandom.com/)

The Bible already does this by lending coherence to its many books (‘Biblia’ is the Greek plural for ‘book’) and the multiple, sometimes contradictory traditions on which it draws. The canonical and apocryphal books of the Hebrew Bible texts are the base, and the various retellings in theater, legend, chronicle, and verse expand and innovate. Storyworlds provide us with a conceptual frame to organize and provide coherence for our readings of the individual texts, and a lens through which to view questions of how narrative works.

I’ll give a few examples to show three different ways in which this happens in the texts: (1) the expression of emotional states, (2) the description of shared material culture, and (3) the use of genres, tropes, and forms common to vernacular narrative genres across religious traditions.

manuscript illumination showing Abraham about to behead Isaac while angel descends from heaven to stop him

The Binding of Isaac, in Les anciennes hystoires rommaines, MS Royal 16 G VII, f. 28, 14th c. British Library (source: thetorah.com)

One story very familiar to all three groups is the story of the aqedah or binding of Isaac (Ishmael in Islamic tradition) told in Genesis 22.  We know the story: God commands Abraham to offer Isaac as a sacrifice. Abraham complies, and just as he is about to bring the knife down on Isaac’s throat, God sends an angel to stop him, telling him that he has passed God’s test.The 15th-century Valencian biblical play Sacrifiçi de Isaac (Sacrifice of Isaac) takes some dramatic liberties with this scene, taking it in a more burlesque direction, and adding more affective detail in the representation of both the Angel and Abraham, couched in familiar vernacular tropes of badgering and annoyance:

Angel [in the voice of an old lady]: Abraham! Abraham!
Abraham: What do you want, sir?

L’Àngel, a to de ‘Vexilla.’: “Habram! Abram!”
Habram: “Què vols, senyor?” (Huerta Viñas 128)

The voice of the Angel is cast in the misogynist trope of the meddling older lady, and Abraham’s response is not the obedient “here I am” of the bible, but rather què vols?  the Valencian equivalent of “whattaya want, already” of the stereotyped man chafing at a female questioning his actions.  I argue that it would be far more difficult to communicate these affective states in Biblical Hebrew or Latin, and that it is the vernacular medium that opens the traditional text to this affective texturing of the story, a vernacular experience that is shared by Jews, Christian, and Muslims in the street watching the drama.

antique hetchel for processing wool or flax (18th c.?) (source: pinterest.com)

Elsewhere authors of biblical retellings use material culture as a reference point in describing things that might be unfamiliar to audiences. The 13th-century Castilian General estoria, compiled under the direction of Alfonso X of Castile, in an excursus in the Joseph story on the Nile river adapted from Pliny, describes the crocodile (cocodriz): The compilers write that

 

on both jaws are many strong teeth, that are fashioned and positioned just like they are on the iron combs used to process wool.

en amoz los carrirellos á muchos dientes e muy Fuertes, e tiénenlos assí texidos e puestos eguales como están los dientes en  los peines de fierro que lavran la lana. (Alfonso X I:8, xiv, 435-436)

Here the compilers draw on the vernacular material culture, one shared across religious groups, to help audiences perhaps not personally familiar with crocodiles to populate parts the Joseph storyworld.

workers preparing bread from ancient Egyptian mural

And Jacob saw there was grain in Egypt
Senet’s Tomb (TT60), Luxor, Egypt, 20th c BCE (source: https://stravaganzastravaganza.blogspot.com/)

Our sources also share folkoric tropes and motifs drawn from the vernacular culture shared by Muslims, Jews, and Christians. The retelling of the Joseph story in the fourteenth-century Coplas de Yosef, a Hebrew aljamiado versification in mester de clerecía tells of how Jacob learns about the stores of grain in Egypt during the famine in his homeland of Canaan:

Jacob, there in that land where he dwelled [Canaan],
Went to the river and looked at the water:
He saw a lot of straw floating along in the river,
The same straw that Joseph had spilled [upriver in Egypt].

Ya’aqob en esa tierra, allá donde estaba,
al río se fuera y las aguas miraba:
mucha paja viera que en el río andaba,
esta paja fuera que derramó Yosef.
(Girón-Negrón and Minervini 141, st. 76).

While Genesis 42:1 relates only that Jacob “saw there was grain in Egypt” (וַיַּ֣רְא יַעֲקֹ֔ב כִּ֥י יֶשׁ־שֶׁ֖בֶר בְּמִצְרָ֑יִם), Rabbinic sources provide various explanations: Jacob saw it in a vision (Bereshit Rabbah); Jacob lost his prophetic vision after Joseph was sold and only saw the ‘hope’ of bread in Egypt (Rashi); Jacob literally saw men with wheat and asked them, then understood that they had bought it in Egypt (David Qimhi). None of these account for the novel solution of the Coplas de Yosef, but the editors of the Coplas, Laura Minervini and Luis Girón-Negrón, locate the motif in a folktale collected in Burgos, Las señas de la batalla:

They threw the straw in the river for them to see the sign of what they were going to do. When the river water with the staw reached them, they knew that they had won the battle.

Les echaron al río [las pajas] para ver la señal de lo que iban a hacer. Cuando llegaba el agua del río con las pajas es que habían ganao la batalla. (Pedrosa 95; Girón-Negrón and Minervini 249 n 74–78)

This motif is adapted in the Coplas as a novel interpretation of Genesis under the influence of regional vernacular culture shared across religious communities, and its use in building out the storyworld of the Joseph narrative connects Jewish, Muslim, and Christian speakers of Castilian familiar with it from oral tradition [I have written about the transmission of narrative across religious groups via oral tradition here and here].

Hopefully these few examples begin to paint for you the picture of a community of Biblical interpretation at once divided by religious tradition and bound together by common vernacular language and culture, one that facilitated the practice of a shared Biblical storyworld. Stay tuned for more in future posts on this topic!

Works cited

  • Chatman, Seymour Benjamin. Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film. Cornell University Press, 1978.
  • Girón-Negrón, Luis M., and Laura Minervini. Las Coplas de Yosef: Entre La Biblia y El Midrash En La Poesía Judeoespañola. Gredos, 2006.
  • Herman, David. Narrative Theory: Core Concepts and Critical Debates. Ohio State University Press, 2012.
  • Huerta Viñas, Ferran. Teatre Bíblic: Antic Testament. Editorial Barcino, 1976.
  • Martínez, María-Ángeles. Storyworld Possible Selves. De Gruyter, Inc., 2018. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/uoregon/detail.action?docID=5156565.
  • Pedrosa, José Manuel. Héroes, santos, moros y brujas: Leyendas épicas, históricas y mágicas de la tradición oral de Burgos: Poética, comparatismo y etnotextos. Elías Rubio Marcos, 2001.
  • Ryan, Marie-Laure. “Transmedial Storytelling and Transfictionality.” Poetics Today, vol. 34, no. 3, Sept. 2013, pp. 361–88.
  • Thatcher, Tom. “Anatomies of the Fourth Gospel: Past, Present, and Future Probes.” Anatomies of Narrative Criticism: The Past, Present, and Futures of the Fourth Gospel as Literature, edited by Tom Thatcher and Stephen D. Moore, Brill, 2008, pp. 1–35.
  • Ukas, Catherine Vool Rytell. The Biblia Rimada de Sevilla: A Critical Edition. University of Toronto, 1981.

This post is a version of a paper given at the 2022 MLA Convention, in the panel “New Currents in Medieval Iberian Studies” organized by the Medieval Iberian LLC Forum and presided by Robin Bower.