Give Me a Break!

Would He not leave my few days alone?  Withdraw from me so that I may have a little cheerfulness  Job 10:20 NASB

Cheerfulness – Before we look at the term translated “cheerfulness” in the NASB, we should notice the translation provided by Chabad.

Are not my days few? So desist and withdraw from me, and I will strengthen myself a little, 

It has a different flavor.  The two sentences of NASB are divided differently in Chabad.  The verb “to leave alone” is moved to the second sentence where it is translated “desist.”  Robert Alter provides another version:

“My days are but few—let me be.  Turn away that I may have some gladness.”

On the other hand, Rashi treats the final thought as “strength” not “cheer” or gladness.  The Targum uses “comfort.”  

We should also notice the qere/ketiv (what is read/what is written) in this text: 

הֲלֹֽא־מְעַ֣ט יָמַ֣י וַֽחֲדָ֑ל (כתיב יַֽחֲדָ֑ל) וְשִׁ֥ית (כתיב יְשִׁ֥ית) מִ֜מֶּ֗נִּי וְאַבְלִ֥יגָה מְּעָֽט

Right away we recognize that something odd is happening in this verse.  Let’s start with the qere/ketiv.  Why is the text written one way but read another?  It is written (in both cases) as third person singular future, but it is read as present imperative.  It is read as if Job says, “Not many my days.  Stop and withdraw so that I  can be bālag (cheerful?).  This final word only occurs four times in the Tanakh.  We’ll have to investigate why Job chooses it since it is so rare.  But first, consider the difference between the imperative (as read) and the written future.  Typical translations treat Job’s statement as if he is demanding that God give him a break.  He’s insisting on reprieve.  That seems to make sense.  Job is in dire straits.  He wants relief.  He doesn’t ask for it.  He demands it!

But the text isn’t written this way.  If we read the verse as written we get another view of the situation.  In the future tense, it is as if Job is saying, “I have only a few days left.  My life will stop.  It’s going to happen anyway, so why not stop it now.”  Job looks at his situation and wishes that the inevitable would simply happen sooner.  A future view.  “I’m going to die anyway so let me die in peace.”  As we will see, this is consistent with the next verse.

But this is not the view of the oral tradition.  That tradition pushed the imperative account, that is, Job’s demand that God leave him alone.  We probably find the oral version more in line with our empathy for Job.  Anyone under God’s thumb wants relief—and not the kind of relief that comes with the inevitability of death.  So we prefer the oral version.  How we break up the text (per Chabad and Alter) is a matter of choice since there is no punctuation in Hebrew.  Turning the opening sentence into a rhetorical question is also a translator’s preference (although I see no reason to do so).

Now let’s look at the rare word bālag.  The NASB translates the term as “cheerfulness.”  But this seems very odd.  In what way is reprieve from affliction cheerful?  Respite, maybe.  Joy, not really.  The fact that God might stop all the chaos doesn’t make me cheerful.  Furthermore, the verb is reflexive.  It should be translated “cheer myself up.”  It’s not a noun (cheerfulness).  Since the verbal root means “to smile, to brighten,” we might wonder how it could possibly apply here.  Does Job expect to smile after all he’s endured if God just let’s up for a moment?  If anything, he might sigh, but I don’t think we would find a gleam on his face.  Weeping, maybe.  Relief, certainly.  But cheerfulness?  Even the JPS speaks about being “diverted” from his grief, not smiling about it.

For this reason, many Hebrew commentators and translators take bālag to mean “to strengthen.”  Rashi says that Job wishes God to desist so that he can gather some strength.  Chabad follows Rashi.  So do others.  It seems that this verse offers multiple translations.  It just depends on the interpretation of the translator.

And that’s the real issue, isn’t it?  The verse is an exercise in asking the question, “What did the original author mean?”  What we discover is that the translation is more about the mind of the translator than it is about the intent of the author.  In fact, even when there seems to be no linguistic support, translators offer words that communicate what we might feelrather than what Job feels.  We probably will never know exactly what Job meant to say or how he felt because we are left with some rare words and unusual verbal combinations that are open to all kinds of speculations.  Does Job want reprieve or death?  Does he seek comfort, or strength, or cheerfulness?  Is he expecting to accomplish this on his own or is he the victim of God’s whim?  Is this a reflection on human inevitability or a directive toward God?  So many choices—all hidden from view in translation.  What do you think?

Topical Index: bālag, cheerfulness, qere/ketiv, Job 10:20