וְאָמַר רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה לְדִידִי חַזְיָא לִי הָהִיא אַקְרוּקְתָּא דְּהַוְיָא כִּי אַקְרָא דְהַגְרוּנְיָא וְאַקְרָא דְהַגְרוּנְיָא כַּמָּה הָוְיָא שִׁתִּין בָּתֵּי אֲתָא תַּנִּינָא בַּלְעַהּ אֲתָא פּוּשְׁקַנְצָא וּבַלְעַהּ לְתַנִּינָא וּסְלֵיק יְתֵיב בְּאִילָנָא תָּא חֲזִי כַּמָּה נְפִישׁ חֵילֵיהּ דְּאִילָנָא אָמַר רַב פָּפָּא בַּר שְׁמוּאֵל אִי לָא הֲוַאי הָתָם לָא הֵימַנִי
And Rabba bar bar Ḥana said: I have seen a certain frog [akrokta] that was as large as the fort [akra] of Hagronya. And how large is the fort of Hagronya? It is as large as sixty houses. A snake came and swallowed the frog. A raven came and swallowed the snake, and flew up and sat in a tree. Come and see how great is the strength of the tree! Rav Pappa bar Shmuel said: If I had not been there, I would not believe it.
וְאָמַר רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה זִימְנָא חֲדָא הֲוָה קָא אָזְלִינַן בִּסְפִינְתָּא וַחֲזֵינַן הָהוּא כַּוְורָא דְּיָתְבָא לֵיהּ אָכְלָה טִינָא בְּאוּסְיֵיהּ וְאַדְחוּהוּ מַיָּא וְשַׁדְיוּהוּ לְגוּדָּא וַחֲרוּב מִינֵּיהּ שִׁתִּין מָחוֹזֵי וַאֲכוּל מִינֵּיהּ שִׁתִּין מָחוֹזֵי וּמְלַחוּ מִינֵּיהּ שִׁתִּין מָחוֹזֵי וּמַלִּאוּ מֵחַד גִּלְגְּלָא דְעֵינֵיהּ תְּלָת מְאָה גַּרְבֵי מִשְׁחָא וְכִי הֲדַרַן לְבָתַר תְּרֵיסַר יַרְחֵי שַׁתָּא חֲזֵינַן דַּהֲוָה קָא מְנַסְּרִי מִגַּרְמֵיהּ מְטַלְּלָתָא וְיָתְבִי לְמִבְנִינְהוּ הָנָךְ מָחוֹזֵי
§ And Rabba bar bar Ḥana said: Once we were traveling in a ship and we saw a certain fish in whose nostril [be’usyeih] a mud eater [akhla tina], i.e., a type of insect, had sat and killed him. And the waters thrust the fish and threw it upon the shore. And sixty districts were destroyed by the fish, and sixty districts ate from it, and another sixty districts salted its meat to preserve it. And they filled from one of its eyeballs three hundred flasks of oil. And when we returned there after the twelve months of the year had passed, we saw that they were cutting beams from its bones, and they had set out to build those districts that had been destroyed.
וְאָמַר רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה זִימְנָא חֲדָא הֲוָה קָא אָזְלִינַן בִּסְפִינְתָּא וַחֲזֵינַן הָהוּא כְּווֹרָא דְּיָתְבָא לֵיהּ חָלְתָּא אַגַּבֵּיהּ וְקָדַח אַגְמָא עִילָּוֵיהּ סָבְרִינַן יַבֶּשְׁתָּא הִיא וּסְלֵקִינַן וַאֲפֵינַן וּבַשְּׁלִינַן אַגַּבֵּיהּ וְכַד חַם גַּבֵּיהּ אִתְהֲפִיךְ וְאִי לָאו דַּהֲוָה מְקָרְבָא סְפִינְתָּא הֲוָה טָבְעִינַן
And Rabba bar bar Ḥana said: Once we were traveling on a ship and we saw a certain fish upon which sand had settled, and grass grew on it. We assumed that it was dry land and went up and baked and cooked on the back of the fish, but when its back grew hot it turned over. And were it not for the fact that the ship was close by, we would have drowned.
וְאָמַר רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה זִימְנָא חֲדָא הֲוָה אָזְלִינַן בִּסְפִינְתָּא וּסְגַאי סְפִינְתָּא בֵּין שִׁיצָא לְשִׁיצָא דִּכְוָארָא תְּלָתָא יוֹמֵי וּתְלָתָא לֵילָווֹתָא אִיהוּ בִּזְקִיפָא וַאֲנַן בְּשִׁיפּוּלָא וְכִי תֵּימָא לָא מְסַגְּיָא סְפִינְתָּא טוּבָא כִּי אֲתָא רַב דִּימִי אָמַר כְּמֵיחַם קוּמְקוּמָא דְמַיָּא מְסַגְּיָא שִׁתִּין פַּרְסֵי וְשָׁאדֵי פָּרָשָׁא גִּירָא וְקָדְמָה לֵיהּ וְאָמַר רַב אָשֵׁי הָהוּא גִּילְדָּנָא דְיַמָּא הוּא דְּאִית לֵיהּ תְּרֵי שִׁייצֵי
And Rabba bar bar Ḥana said: Once we were traveling in a ship and the ship traveled between one fin [shitza] and the other fin of a fish for three days and three nights. It went upward and we were going downward. And if you would say that the ship did not travel very fast, when Rav Dimi came he said: In the time to heat a kettle of water, that ship can travel sixty parasangs. And a horseman shot an arrow, and the ship outraced it. And Rav Ashi said: That fish was a sea gildana, which has two sets of fins.
וְאָמַר רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה זִימְנָא חֲדָא הֲוָה אָזְלִינַן בִּסְפִינְתָּא וַחֲזֵינַן הָהוּא צִיפְּרָא דְּקָאֵים עַד קַרְצוּלֵיהּ בְּמַיָּא וְרֵישֵׁיהּ בִּרְקִיעַ וְאָמְרִינַן לֵיכָּא מַיָּא וּבָעֵינַן לֵחוּת לְאִקּוֹרֵי נַפְשִׁין וּנְפַק בַּת קָלָא וְאָמַר לַן לָא תֵּיחוּתוּ הָכָא דִּנְפַלַת לֵיהּ חֲצִיצָא לְבַר נַגָּרָא הָא שַׁב שְׁנֵי וְלָא קָא מָטְיָא אַאַרְעָא וְלָאו מִשּׁוּם דִּנְפִישִׁי מַיָּא אֶלָּא מִשּׁוּם דִּרְדִפִי מַיָּא אָמַר רַב אָשֵׁי וְהָהוּא זִיז שָׂדַי הוּא דִּכְתִיב וְזִיז שָׂדַי עִמָּדִי
And Rabba bar bar Ḥana said: Once we were traveling in a ship and we saw a certain bird that was standing with water up to its ankles [kartzuleih] and its head was in the sky. And we said to ourselves that there is no deep water here, and we wanted to go down to cool ourselves off. And a Divine Voice emerged and said to us: Do not go down here, as the ax of a carpenter fell into it seven years ago and it has still not reached the bottom. And this is not because the water is so large and deep. Rather, it is because the water is turbulent. Rav Ashi said: And that bird is called ziz sadai, wild beast, as it is written: “I know all the fowls of the mountains; and the ziz sadai is Mine” (Psalms 50:11).
וְאָמַר רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה זִימְנָא חֲדָא הֲוָה קָא אָזְלִינַן בְּמַדְבְּרָא וַחֲזֵינַן הָנְהוּ אֲווֹזֵי דְּשָׁמְטִי גַּדְפַיְיהוּ מִשֻּׁמְנַיְיהוּ וְקָא נָגְדִי נַחֲלֵי דְמִשְׁחָא מִתּוּתַיְיהוּ אָמֵינָא לְהוּ אִית לַן בְּגַוַּיְיכוּ חֻלָקָא לְעָלְמָא דְאָתֵי חֲדָא דְּלִי גַּדְפָּא וַחֲדָא דְּלִי אַטְמָא כִּי אֲתַאי לְקַמֵּיהּ דְּרַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר אָמַר לִי עֲתִידִין יִשְׂרָאֵל לִיתֵּן עֲלֵיהֶן אֶת הַדִּין
And Rabba bar bar Ḥana said: Once we were traveling in the desert and we saw these geese whose wings were sloping because they were so fat, and streams of oil flowed beneath them. I said to them: Shall we have a portion of you in the World-to-Come? One raised a wing, and one raised a leg, signaling an affirmative response. When I came before Rabbi Elazar, he said to me: The Jewish people will eventually be held accountable for the suffering of the geese. Since the Jews do not repent, the geese are forced to continue to grow fat as they wait to be given to the Jewish people as a reward.
(סִימָן כְּעַפְרָא דִתְכֵילְתָּא טְרַקְתֵּיהּ עַקְרַבָּא לְסִלְתֵּיהּ)
A mnemonics: Like the dust of the sky-blue; the scorpion stung the basket.
וְאָמַר רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה זִימְנָא חֲדָא הֲוָה קָא אָזְלִינַן בְּמַדְבְּרָא וְאִיתְלַוִּי בַּהֲדַן הַהוּא טַיָּיעָא דַּהֲוָה שָׁקֵיל עַפְרָא וּמוֹרַח לֵיהּ וְאָמַר הָא אוֹרְחָא לְדוּכְתָּא פְּלָן וְהָא אוֹרְחָא לְדוּכְתָּא פְּלָן אָמְרִינַן לֵיהּ כַּמָּה מְרַחֲקִינַן מִמַּיָּא וְאָמַר לַן הַבוּ לִי עַפְרָא יָהֲבִינַן לֵיהּ וְאָמַר לַן תַּמְנֵי פַּרְסֵי תָּנֵינַן וְיָהֲבִינַן לֵיהּ אָמַר לַן דִּמְרַחֲקִינַן תְּלָתָא פַּרְסֵי אֲפַכִית לֵיהּ וְלָא יְכֵילִית לֵיהּ אָמַר לִי תָּא אַחֲוֵי לָךְ מֵתֵי מִדְבָּר אֲזַלִי חֲזִיתִינְהוּ וְדָמוּ כְּמַאן דְּמִיבַּסְּמִי וְגָנוּ אַפַּרְקִיד וַהֲוָה זְקִיפָא בִּרְכֵּיהּ דְּחַד מִינַּיְיהוּ וְעָיֵל טַיָּיעָא תּוּתֵי בִּרְכֵּיהּ כִּי רְכִיב גַּמְלָא וּזְקִיפָא רוּמְחֵיהּ וְלָא נָגַע בֵּיהּ פְּסַקִי חֲדָא קַרְנָא דִתְכֵלְתָּא דְּחַד מִינַּיְיהוּ וְלָא הֲוָה מִסְתַּגִּי לַן אָמַר לִי דִּלְמָא שְׁקַלְתְּ מִידֵּי מִינַּיְיהוּ אַהְדְּרֵיהּ דִּגְמִירִי דְּמַאן דְּשָׁקֵיל מִידֵּי מִינַּיְיהוּ לָא מִסְתַּגִּי לֵיהּ אֲזַלִי אַהְדַּרְתֵּיהּ וַהֲדַר מִסְתַּגִּי לַן כִּי אֲתַאי לְקַמֵּיהּ דְּרַבָּנַן אֲמַרוּ לִי כֹּל אַבָּא חַמְרָא וְכֹל בַּר בַּר חָנָה סִיכְסָא לְמַאי הִלְכְתָא עֲבַדְתְּ הָכִי לְמִידַּע אִי כְּבֵית שַׁמַּאי אִי כְּבֵית הִלֵּל אִיבְּעִי לָךְ לְמִימְנֵי חוּטִין וּלְמִימְנֵי חוּלְיוֹת
And Rabba bar bar Ḥana said: Once we were traveling in the desert and we were accompanied by a certain Arab who would take dust and smell it and say: This is the road to such and such a place, and that is the road to such and such a place. We said to him: How far are we from water? And he said to us: Bring me dust. We brought it to him, and he said: Eight parasangs. Later, we said this a second time, and gave him dust, and he said to us that we are at a distance of three parasangs. I switched the type of dust to test him, but I could not confuse him, as he was an expert in this matter. That Arab said to me: Come, I will show you the dead of the wilderness, i.e., the Jewish people who left Egypt and died in the wilderness. I went and saw them; and they had the appearance of one who is intoxicated, and they were lying on their backs. And the knee of one of them was elevated, and he was so enormous that the Arab entered under his knee while riding a camel and with his spear upright, and he did not touch him. I cut one corner of the sky-blue garment that contains ritual fringes of one of them, and we were unable to walk. The Arab said to me: Perhaps you took something from them? Return it, as we know by tradition that one who takes something from them cannot walk. I then returned the corner of the garment, and then we were able to walk. When I came before the Sages, they said to me in rebuke: Every Abba is a donkey, and every bar bar Ḥana is an idiot. For the purpose of clarifying what halakha did you do that? If you wanted to know whether the halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Beit Shammai or in accordance with the opinion of Beit Hillel, as to whether there are four or three threads and joints in ritual fringes, in that case there was no need to take anything with you, as you should have simply counted the threads and counted the joints.
אֲמַר לִי תָּא אַחְוֵי לָךְ הַר סִינַי אֲזַלִי חֲזַאי דְּהָדְרָא לֵיהּ עַקְרַבָּא וְקָיְימָא כִּי חֲמָרֵי חִווֹרָתִי שָׁמַעְתִּי בַּת קוֹל שֶׁאוֹמֶרֶת אוֹי לִי שֶׁנִּשְׁבַּעְתִּי וְעַכְשָׁיו שֶׁנִּשְׁבַּעְתִּי מִי מֵפֵר לִי כִּי אֲתַאי לְקַמֵּיהּ דְּרַבָּנַן אֲמַרוּ לִי כָּל אַבָּא חַמְרָא כׇּל בַּר בַּר חָנָה סִיכְסָא הָיָה לְךָ לוֹמַר מוּפָר לָךְ וְהוּא סָבַר דִּלְמָא שְׁבוּעֲתָא דְמַבּוּל הוּא וְרַבָּנַן אִם כֵּן אוֹי לִי לָמָּה
Rabba bar bar Ḥana continues his account. That Arab also said to me: Come, I will show you Mount Sinai. I went and saw that scorpions were encircling it, and they were standing as high as white donkeys. I heard a Divine Voice saying: Woe is Me that I took an oath; and now that I took the oath, who will nullify it for me? When I came before the Sages, they said to me in rebuke: Every Abba is a donkey, and every bar bar Ḥana is an idiot. You should have said: Your oath is nullified. The Gemara explains: And Rabba bar bar Ḥana did not nullify the oath because he reasoned: Perhaps God is referring to the oath that He will not flood the earth again. But the Sages would argue that if that were so, why say: Woe is Me? Rather, this must be referring to God’s oath of exile upon the Jewish people.
אָמַר לִי תָּא אַחְוֵי לָךְ בְּלוּעֵי דְקֹרַח חֲזַאי תְּרֵי בִּיזְעֵי וַהֲווֹ קָא מַפְּקִי קוּטְרָא שְׁקַל גְּבָבָא דְעַמְרָא וְאַמְשִׁינֵּהּ בְּמַיָּא וְדַעֲצִיתֵהּ בְּרֵאשֵׁהּ דְּרוּמְחָא וְעַיְּילֵיהּ הָתָם וְכִי אַפֵּיק הֲוָה אִיחֲרַךְ אִיחֲרוֹכֵי אָמַר לִי אַצֵּית מַאי שָׁמְעַתְּ וּשְׁמַעִית דַּהֲווֹ אָמְרִין מֹשֶׁה וְתוֹרָתוֹ אֱמֶת וְהֵן בַּדָּאִין אֲמַר לִי כֹּל תְּלָתִין יוֹמֵי מַהְדַּר לְהוּ גֵּיהִנָּם לְהָכָא כְּבָשָׂר בְּקַלַּחַת וְאָמְרִי הָכִי מֹשֶׁה וְתוֹרָתוֹ אֱמֶת וְהֵן בַּדָּאִין
Rabba bar bar Ḥana continues his account. The Arab also said to me: Come, I will show you those who were swallowed by the earth due to the sin of Korah. I saw two rifts in the ground that were issuing smoke. The Arab took a shearing of wool, and dipped it in water, and inserted it on the head of a spear, and placed it in there. And when he removed the wool, it was scorched. He said to me: Listen to what you hear; and I heard that they were saying: Moses and his Torah are true, and they, i.e., we in the earth, are liars. The Arab further said to me: Every thirty days Gehenna returns them to here, like meat in a pot that is moved around by the boiling water as it cooks. And every time they say this: Moses and his Torah are true, and they, i.e., we in the earth, are liars.
אָמַר לִי תָּא אַחְוֵי לָךְ הֵיכָא דְּנָשְׁקִי אַרְעָא וּרְקִיעָא אַהֲדָדֵי שְׁקַלְתָּא לְסִילְתַּאי אַתְנַחְתָּא בְּכַוְּותָא דִרְקִיעָא אַדִּמְצַלֵּינָא בְּעֵיתֵיהּ וְלָא אַשְׁכַּחְתֵּהּ אָמֵינָא לֵיהּ אִיכָּא גַּנָּבֵי הָכָא אֲמַר לִי הַאי גִּלְגְּלָא דִרְקִיעָא הֲוָה דְּהָדַר נְטַר עַד לִמְחַר הָכָא וּמַשְׁכַּחַתְּ לַהּ
This Arab also said to me: Come, I will show you the place where the earth and the heavens touch each other. I took my basket and placed it in a window of the heavens. After I finished praying, I searched for it but did not find it. I said to him: Are there thieves here? He said to me: This is the heavenly sphere that is turning around; wait here until tomorrow and you will find it.
רֵישׁ לָקִישׁ הֲוֵי סָחֵי בְּיַרְדְּנָא אֲתָא רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה יְהַב לֵיהּ יְדָא. אֲמַר לֵיהּ: אֱלָהָא! סָנֵינָא לְכוּ — דִּכְתִיב: ״אִם חוֹמָה הִיא נִבְנֶה עָלֶיהָ טִירַת כָּסֶף וְאִם דֶּלֶת הִיא נָצוּר עָלֶיהָ לוּחַ אָרֶז״. אִם עֲשִׂיתֶם עַצְמְכֶם כְּחוֹמָה וַעֲלִיתֶם כּוּלְּכֶם בִּימֵי עֶזְרָא — נִמְשַׁלְתֶּם כְּכֶסֶף שֶׁאֵין רָקָב שׁוֹלֵט בּוֹ, עַכְשָׁיו שֶׁעֲלִיתֶם כִּדְלָתוֹת — נִמְשַׁלְתֶּם כְּאֶרֶז שֶׁהָרָקָב שׁוֹלֵט בּוֹ.
Reish Lakish was swimming in the Jordan River when Rabba bar bar Chana came and gave him a hand. Reish Lakish said to him: My God! I hate you Babylonians, as it is written: “If she be a wall we will build a silver turret upon her, if she be a door we will cover her with boards of cedar” (Song of Songs 8:9). This is the meaning of the verse as it applies to the Jewish people: Had you rendered yourselves like a wall and all ascended in the days of Ezra, you would have been likened to silver, which rot does not infest. Now that you ascended like doors, and only some of you came to Eretz Yisrael, you are likened to cedar, which rot infests.
רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה חֲלַשׁ עוּל לְגַבֵּיהּ רַב יְהוּדָה וְרַבָּה לְשַׁיּוֹלֵי בֵּיהּ בְּעוֹ מִינֵּיהּ שְׁנַיִם שֶׁהֵבִיאוּ גֵּט מִמְּדִינַת הַיָּם צְרִיכִין שֶׁיֹּאמְרוּ בְּפָנֵינוּ נִכְתַּב וּבְפָנֵינוּ נֶחְתַּם אוֹ אֵין צְרִיכִין אָמַר לָהֶם אֵין צְרִיכִין מָה אִילּוּ יֹאמְרוּ בְּפָנֵינוּ גֵּירְשָׁהּ מִי לָא מְהֵימְנִי אַדְּהָכִי אֲתָא הָהוּא חַבְרָא שְׁקַלָה לִשְׁרָגָא מִקַּמַּיְיהוּ אֲמַר רַחֲמָנָא אוֹ בְּטוּלָּךְ אוֹ בְּטוּלָּא דְּבַר עֵשָׂו
Rabba bar bar Ḥana was weak, and Rav Yehuda and Rabba entered to visit him and to inquire about his well-being... In the meantime, while they were sitting there, in came a certain Persian priest [ḥabbara] and took the lamp [sheragga] from before them. Rabba said: Merciful One! Let us live either in Your shadow or in the shadow of the descendants of Esau!
וְלֹא בְּשֶׁמֶן קִיק וְכוּ׳. מַאי שֶׁמֶן קִיק? אָמַר שְׁמוּאֵל: שְׁאֵילְתִּינְהוּ לְכֹל נָחוֹתֵי יַמָּא, וַאֲמַרוּ לִי: עוֹף אֶחָד יֵשׁ בִּכְרַכֵּי הַיָּם וְקִיק שְׁמוֹ. רַב יִצְחָק בְּרֵיהּ דְּרַב יְהוּדָה אָמַר: מִשְׁחָא דְּקָאזָא. רֵישׁ לָקִישׁ אָמַר: קִיקָיוֹן דְּיוֹנָה. אָמַר רַבָּה בַּר בַּר חָנָה: לְדִידִי חֲזִי לִי קִיקָיוֹן דְּיוֹנָה, וְלִצְלוּלִיבָא דָּמֵי וּמִדֻּפְשְׁקֵי רָבֵי, וְעַל פּוּם חַנְוָתָא מַדְלָן יָתֵיהּ, וּמִפַּרְצִידוֹהִי עָבְדִי מִשְׁחָא, וּבְעַנְפוֹהִי נָיְיחָן כׇּל בְּרִיחֵי דְמַעְרְבָא.
And we learned in the mishna that one may not light the Shabbat lamp with kik oil. The Gemara asks: What is kik oil? Shmuel said: I asked all the seafarers, and they said to me that there is a bird in the cities on the sea coast, and kik is its name. Kik oil is produced from that bird. Rav Yitzḥak, son of Rav Yehuda, said: This is referring to cotton oil. Reish Lakish said: It is the oil made from the seed of a plant like the castor plant [kikayon] of Jonah. Rabba bar bar Ḥana said: I have seen the species of the castor plant of Jonah, and it is similar to the ricinus tree and it grows in swamps, and they place it at the entrance of shops for shade, and they produce oil from its seeds, and all the sick people of the West, Eretz Yisrael, rest beneath its branches.
Ritba on Baba Batra, trans. Glueck
The stories in this chapter deal with subjects that are strange to people because they are unfamiliar with them, but they are very plausible to those with a knowledge of nature, such as the size of sea monsters and the size of waves in a storm. They also contain allusions to matters which were not seen with the eye but in a vision. For when the sages went on ocean voyages they saw there God's wonders ... and during their sleep they experienced remarkable visions in the context of their meditations. The geonim wrote that wherever the words 'I myself saw' occur, it was in a dream while on a voyage.
The stories in this chapter deal with subjects that are strange to people because they are unfamiliar with them, but they are very plausible to those with a knowledge of nature, such as the size of sea monsters and the size of waves in a storm. They also contain allusions to matters which were not seen with the eye but in a vision. For when the sages went on ocean voyages they saw there God's wonders ... and during their sleep they experienced remarkable visions in the context of their meditations. The geonim wrote that wherever the words 'I myself saw' occur, it was in a dream while on a voyage.
The Adventures of Rabbah bar bar Hannah as a Polemic Against Babylonian Jewry by Brian Chernigoff 2021
Ritba cites a tradition from the Geonim that many of the tales of this sugya occurred in visions. In the spirit of this tradition, many traditional commentators have understood these tales as allegorical. Rabbi Elijah of Vilna (Gra)8 understood that the sea represents the material world, the boat, the human body, and those who descend upon the sea as people who on the one hand possess divine souls yet on the other hand must traverse and navigate the murky waters of the physical world.9 The waves that constantly seek to destroy the vessel represent the evil inclination, whose sole mission is to cause man to stumble upon the path of sin. The Arab merchant also signifies the evil inclination, who seeks to distract man from his study of Torah by showing him the marvels of this world. With this symbolism, Gra understands these stories as directed towards Torah scholars, warning them of the specific pitfalls and challenges that they will need to overcome while pursuing their studies. They must avoid jealousy, haughtiness and anger to be successful in their studies. If they want to become great, then they will need to accustom themselves to studying intensely despite poverty...
The idea that the various creatures consuming one another is symbolic of the various empires that succeeded one another in ruling over Israel is already rooted in traditional Jewish thought. In light of the above analysis, this idea can be taken a step further. Each empire that ruled over Israel had a distinct set of norms, customs and values that marked it as unique. As each empire took over, its culture and set of ideals took hold in society, marking the previous culture as a relic of the past. Each creature was the size of sixty houses. A house is the bedrock of society, the place where the next generation is raised and educated, and where the values of one age are passed down to the next. Sixty in traditional Jewish lore is representative of something which is all-encompassing, that which negates what is subsumed within it. Thus, each monster, the size of sixty houses, represents how the new set of values and culture that each empire brought with it served to negate and eliminate the old ways of life and ideas. However, the tree, symbolic of the Torah, withstands the test of time. Even though a foreign culture may try to rest on its branches and weigh it down and destroy it, the Torah nevertheless stands the test of time and continues to thrive. This idea, although ostensibly straightforward and simplistic, is something that those living in exile could not fully grasp. Thus, Rabbi Papa the son of Shmuel, an inhabitant of Babylonia, understanding the draw that foreign culture had to the exilic Jew, had to rise up and testify that it is possible for the Torah to survive and remain strong in the face of great pressure and upheaval. By telling this story, RBBH is trying to convey this message to the inhabitants of the communities of Babylonia.
Ritba cites a tradition from the Geonim that many of the tales of this sugya occurred in visions. In the spirit of this tradition, many traditional commentators have understood these tales as allegorical. Rabbi Elijah of Vilna (Gra)8 understood that the sea represents the material world, the boat, the human body, and those who descend upon the sea as people who on the one hand possess divine souls yet on the other hand must traverse and navigate the murky waters of the physical world.9 The waves that constantly seek to destroy the vessel represent the evil inclination, whose sole mission is to cause man to stumble upon the path of sin. The Arab merchant also signifies the evil inclination, who seeks to distract man from his study of Torah by showing him the marvels of this world. With this symbolism, Gra understands these stories as directed towards Torah scholars, warning them of the specific pitfalls and challenges that they will need to overcome while pursuing their studies. They must avoid jealousy, haughtiness and anger to be successful in their studies. If they want to become great, then they will need to accustom themselves to studying intensely despite poverty...
The idea that the various creatures consuming one another is symbolic of the various empires that succeeded one another in ruling over Israel is already rooted in traditional Jewish thought. In light of the above analysis, this idea can be taken a step further. Each empire that ruled over Israel had a distinct set of norms, customs and values that marked it as unique. As each empire took over, its culture and set of ideals took hold in society, marking the previous culture as a relic of the past. Each creature was the size of sixty houses. A house is the bedrock of society, the place where the next generation is raised and educated, and where the values of one age are passed down to the next. Sixty in traditional Jewish lore is representative of something which is all-encompassing, that which negates what is subsumed within it. Thus, each monster, the size of sixty houses, represents how the new set of values and culture that each empire brought with it served to negate and eliminate the old ways of life and ideas. However, the tree, symbolic of the Torah, withstands the test of time. Even though a foreign culture may try to rest on its branches and weigh it down and destroy it, the Torah nevertheless stands the test of time and continues to thrive. This idea, although ostensibly straightforward and simplistic, is something that those living in exile could not fully grasp. Thus, Rabbi Papa the son of Shmuel, an inhabitant of Babylonia, understanding the draw that foreign culture had to the exilic Jew, had to rise up and testify that it is possible for the Torah to survive and remain strong in the face of great pressure and upheaval. By telling this story, RBBH is trying to convey this message to the inhabitants of the communities of Babylonia.
Rabbah Bar Bar Chanah’s Island by Rabbi Chaim Jachter (2013/5774)
Let us now try to identify the Nimshal, that to which each component of the story corresponds. When one is at sea, he is not at home and is on a journey for a particular purpose. The sea represents the Exile, when we are not living in our home, Eretz Yisrael. Hashem has sent us on this journey for various purposes, most prominently to improve ourselves and perform Teshuvah in order to merit returning to Eretz Yisrael. The passengers are the Jews who are at sea, i.e. in Exile.
The ship refers to the Torah. A ship is the only thing standing between the passengers and their deaths. They can survive on the high seas only if they remain on the ship. The ship is a perfect analogy to the Torah since without devotion to the Torah the Jewish People cannot survive. Only those Jews who are committed to full Torah observance survive as Jews in the long run.
The large fish disguised as an island distracts the passengers from their journey and their mission. It represents the host Nochri, gentile, countries in which we reside in Exile. The great fish appearing like an island refers to the illusion of safety Jews think they have in their host Nochri country. Cooking and baking on the “island” refers to our making ourselves at home and forgetting that we are guests and ought to act in ways that avoid irritating “the great fish.” The fact that the story presents the passengers both cooking and baking refers to our making ourselves too comfortable in the host country.
The fish becoming hot refers to our making ourselves too comfortable in the host country to the extent that we irritate our Nochri hosts. We should add that the passengers leaving the ship refers to our abandoning Torah values in favor of making ourselves comfortable on the island.
Soon enough the Nochrim become sufficiently annoyed with our overindulgent lifestyle that our presence becomes utterly intolerable to them. The story closes with the fish turning over. Had we strayed too far from a Torah lifestyle, we would have deserved to die when the host country turns over. Luckily, though, the ship was near the passengers- we did not stray too far from the Torah. It also could refer to our assimilating, i.e. experiencing spiritual death, if we stray irretrievably far from a Torah lifestyle.
When we overindulge in the pleasures of Galut and forget that we are not in our Homeland we become distracted from the goal of our journey in Chutz LaAretz, just as the passengers who disembarked on the “island” became sidetracked from their journey. Sometimes the only way we have “returned to the ship” is when were aggressively reminded (Rachmana Leitzlan) of the true goal of the Galut.
Let us now try to identify the Nimshal, that to which each component of the story corresponds. When one is at sea, he is not at home and is on a journey for a particular purpose. The sea represents the Exile, when we are not living in our home, Eretz Yisrael. Hashem has sent us on this journey for various purposes, most prominently to improve ourselves and perform Teshuvah in order to merit returning to Eretz Yisrael. The passengers are the Jews who are at sea, i.e. in Exile.
The ship refers to the Torah. A ship is the only thing standing between the passengers and their deaths. They can survive on the high seas only if they remain on the ship. The ship is a perfect analogy to the Torah since without devotion to the Torah the Jewish People cannot survive. Only those Jews who are committed to full Torah observance survive as Jews in the long run.
The large fish disguised as an island distracts the passengers from their journey and their mission. It represents the host Nochri, gentile, countries in which we reside in Exile. The great fish appearing like an island refers to the illusion of safety Jews think they have in their host Nochri country. Cooking and baking on the “island” refers to our making ourselves at home and forgetting that we are guests and ought to act in ways that avoid irritating “the great fish.” The fact that the story presents the passengers both cooking and baking refers to our making ourselves too comfortable in the host country.
The fish becoming hot refers to our making ourselves too comfortable in the host country to the extent that we irritate our Nochri hosts. We should add that the passengers leaving the ship refers to our abandoning Torah values in favor of making ourselves comfortable on the island.
Soon enough the Nochrim become sufficiently annoyed with our overindulgent lifestyle that our presence becomes utterly intolerable to them. The story closes with the fish turning over. Had we strayed too far from a Torah lifestyle, we would have deserved to die when the host country turns over. Luckily, though, the ship was near the passengers- we did not stray too far from the Torah. It also could refer to our assimilating, i.e. experiencing spiritual death, if we stray irretrievably far from a Torah lifestyle.
When we overindulge in the pleasures of Galut and forget that we are not in our Homeland we become distracted from the goal of our journey in Chutz LaAretz, just as the passengers who disembarked on the “island” became sidetracked from their journey. Sometimes the only way we have “returned to the ship” is when were aggressively reminded (Rachmana Leitzlan) of the true goal of the Galut.
Zoroastrian Texts
[Kəәrəәsāspa] slew the horse-devouring, man-devouring, poisonous, yellowish Aži Sruuara (horned serpent), over whom (the serpent) poison spurted up on its tail, on its nose, on its back, to the height of a spear shaft, on whom Kəәrəәsāspa cooked food in a metal (pot) at noon time. The scoundrel became hot and began to sweat. He knocked over the metal (pot); he cast the boiling water about. Frightened, he ran off to the side, manly-minded Kəәrəәsāspa (19:40).
[Kəәrəәsāspa] slew the horse-devouring, man-devouring, poisonous, yellowish Aži Sruuara (horned serpent), over whom (the serpent) poison spurted up on its tail, on its nose, on its back, to the height of a spear shaft, on whom Kəәrəәsāspa cooked food in a metal (pot) at noon time. The scoundrel became hot and began to sweat. He knocked over the metal (pot); he cast the boiling water about. Frightened, he ran off to the side, manly-minded Kəәrəәsāspa (19:40).
The Three-Legged Ass and Ridyā in B. Ta‘anith, in Irano-Talmudica I, by Kipperwasser and Shapira 2008
In this group of tales, the Aramaic expression לדידי חזי לי indicates that the content is hyperbolic. Rabbah bar Bar Hannah introduces himself as a witness who has traveled to places connected to the ancient biblical past or to some mythological or magic loci or entities. A number of mythological beasts appear in the stories in Bava’ Batra’, most of them taken directly from Iranian mythologies—the Bašcuč,8 the Serpent, the Frog, the giant Kar[a]-Fish, and the giant newborn Aurochs—while others show some Iranian cultural influence (Hormiz/n bar Liliāthā)....
The raison d’être of Rabbah bar Bar Hannah’s tales, as well as of some other לדידי חזי לי stories of different attribution, is to promote the acceptance of information deemed highly unusual, and the use of this phrase is intended to confirm the story’s veracity. The common denominator of the stories is the need for approval of the content, out of the concern that they will not be received by the audience as genuine, albeit rather uncommon.
The tales attributed to Rabbah bar Bar Hannah in Bava’ Batra’ explore, at the most fundamental level, the complicated relationship between two civilizations: that of the Babylonian rabbis and that of western Iranians and Iraqian Aramaeans as it was understood by the former. The tales can be seen as “narratives in dialogue”—that is, they explore the process by which the rabbinic culture incorporated the values of the other.
In this group of tales, the Aramaic expression לדידי חזי לי indicates that the content is hyperbolic. Rabbah bar Bar Hannah introduces himself as a witness who has traveled to places connected to the ancient biblical past or to some mythological or magic loci or entities. A number of mythological beasts appear in the stories in Bava’ Batra’, most of them taken directly from Iranian mythologies—the Bašcuč,8 the Serpent, the Frog, the giant Kar[a]-Fish, and the giant newborn Aurochs—while others show some Iranian cultural influence (Hormiz/n bar Liliāthā)....
The raison d’être of Rabbah bar Bar Hannah’s tales, as well as of some other לדידי חזי לי stories of different attribution, is to promote the acceptance of information deemed highly unusual, and the use of this phrase is intended to confirm the story’s veracity. The common denominator of the stories is the need for approval of the content, out of the concern that they will not be received by the audience as genuine, albeit rather uncommon.
The tales attributed to Rabbah bar Bar Hannah in Bava’ Batra’ explore, at the most fundamental level, the complicated relationship between two civilizations: that of the Babylonian rabbis and that of western Iranians and Iraqian Aramaeans as it was understood by the former. The tales can be seen as “narratives in dialogue”—that is, they explore the process by which the rabbinic culture incorporated the values of the other.
Imagining the Other: The Magical Arab in Rabbinic Literature, by Sara Ronis 2021
These stories are wondrous and fantastical, but they are also humorous, given that Rabbah b. bar Hana misunderstands what he sees, behaves inappropriately, and is eventually berated by his rabbinic community for entirely missing the point. But it is the tayyaʿaʾ who explains what is actually happening at these sites and how to respond appropriately. Scholars have characterized these stories as tall tales meant to entertain the listener; they are indeed very entertaining. But, as Dina Stein has shown, the stories are so much more than that; they provide material evidence of the biblical story, they enhance the rabbis’ under- standing of the world as a whole, and they set the terms of the rabbis’ imagined relationship to this religious and ethnic Other...
In these rabbinic texts, the tayyaʿaʾ’s depiction appears to be mostly positive: he is a wise, perceptive, authentic character in these stories. Yet, like the indigenous Other in colonial writing, or the Magical Negro in American film, this depiction is bound up with and serves the main characters. The rabbis are not the dominant power in Sasanian Babylonia; they have no ongoing or even imagined project of colonization, yet their discourse imagines a world in which true power is held by God and God’s authorized interpreters, the rabbis themselves. This imagined rabbinic empire serves to recenter the rabbis within a fundamentally unstable world. For the rabbis, the tayyaʿaʾ reinforces the claim that rabbinic laws are universal laws; rabbinic history is world history. The tayyaʿaʾ ’s liminality perpetuates rabbinic culture and beliefs and reinforces rabbinic normativity.
These stories are wondrous and fantastical, but they are also humorous, given that Rabbah b. bar Hana misunderstands what he sees, behaves inappropriately, and is eventually berated by his rabbinic community for entirely missing the point. But it is the tayyaʿaʾ who explains what is actually happening at these sites and how to respond appropriately. Scholars have characterized these stories as tall tales meant to entertain the listener; they are indeed very entertaining. But, as Dina Stein has shown, the stories are so much more than that; they provide material evidence of the biblical story, they enhance the rabbis’ under- standing of the world as a whole, and they set the terms of the rabbis’ imagined relationship to this religious and ethnic Other...
In these rabbinic texts, the tayyaʿaʾ’s depiction appears to be mostly positive: he is a wise, perceptive, authentic character in these stories. Yet, like the indigenous Other in colonial writing, or the Magical Negro in American film, this depiction is bound up with and serves the main characters. The rabbis are not the dominant power in Sasanian Babylonia; they have no ongoing or even imagined project of colonization, yet their discourse imagines a world in which true power is held by God and God’s authorized interpreters, the rabbis themselves. This imagined rabbinic empire serves to recenter the rabbis within a fundamentally unstable world. For the rabbis, the tayyaʿaʾ reinforces the claim that rabbinic laws are universal laws; rabbinic history is world history. The tayyaʿaʾ ’s liminality perpetuates rabbinic culture and beliefs and reinforces rabbinic normativity.
