Did Lot Get His Just Desserts? Trauma,Revenge,and Re-enactment in Genesis 19.30-38

The World Inverted

That in Genesis 19.30–38 we have an inversion of the previous events in Genesis 19.1-29 has long been recognized. In Genesis 19.6–8, Lot offers his daughters to be gang-raped by the men of Sodom; yet in Genesis 19.30–38, Lot himself is turned into a rape victim by the very women he had offered to the mob outside his house. Such a change of Lot’s fate from an active agent to a passive object, and the corollary inversion of the daughters from victims to perpetrators, provides a parallel in which within the story of incest, the events of the threatened gang-rape are inverted or, in the words of Carol Smith (1997: 127), ‘turned completely upside down’. ³ As noted by Ronald Hendel, Chana Kronfeld and Ilana Pardes (2010: 86), the introduction of such a topsy-turvy world might even strike ‘a note of punishment and poetic justice’ regarding Lot’s earlier callous behaviour vis-à-vis his daughters. Lot condemned his daughters to be raped, an outcome only thwarted by divine intervention (Gen. 19.6–11). Now in Genesis 19.30–38, Lot himself becomes victimised without anyone’s intervention, a fate that may just be fitting for his misdeeds.

The inversion of Lot’s and his daughters’ roles participates in the larger field of research into Ancient Near Eastern texts that incorporate the motif of symbolic inversion. As stated by Paul Kruger (2006: 115-121), in such texts, symbolic inversions are used for various purposes, among which are the oft-negative portrayals of ‘other’ people or regions when compared to one’s own, as well as that of social critique. To read the incest story as a narrative of the abhorrent origins of Israel’s ‘other’, in our case, a description of how the neighbouring nations Moab and Ammon resulted from the daughters’ incestuous union with Lot (Gen. 19.36–38), is certainly credible and even likely (Bailey, 1995: 128-133; Stone, 2005: 54; Fuchs, 2000: 69. Claassens [2020: 35–38] and O’Connor [2018: 281-284] address this theme in the context of trauma theory). Melissa Jackson has explored the topsy-turvy nature of Genesis 19.30–38 more in line with Kruger’s suggestion of social critique, ‘where existing structures’ are ‘attacked or undermined and alternatives are propagated’ (Kruger, 2006: 116). She reads the narrative as a comic trickster tale which overturns patriarchal expectations and invites the reader to dream ‘of a world turned upside-down’ (Jackson, 2002: 46). She presents the daughters as the underdogs who in desperation trick their father into an incestuous relationship, gaining the desired progeny and revealing Lot, the patriarch, as the fool of the story. By making fun of the patriarchal system, the author of this pericope questions ‘the base assumptions of the social order’ and envisions ‘a completely inverted reality’, where ‘patriarchy was not the status quo’ (Jackson, 2002:46). In this way, Jackson (2002: 46) reads the textual inversions in Genesis 19.30–38 as a form of social critique, whereby the target of the criticism is the prevailing patriarchal practices and the goal is a world that, at least in the mind’s eye, is transformed.

Jackson’s reading has much to commend it, including her use of the trickster motif and the focus on textual inversions to interpret the story of Lot’s daughters. While I would agree that the text does in fact reveal cracks in the patriarchal system (Cobb, 2021: 221), I would hesitate to argue that the story should be read as comedic. The issue of incest remains a disturbing reality in the ancient and contemporary world (Claassens, 2020: 39), and the trauma that underlies the story of Lot’s daughters should not be underestimated. Instead, I suggest that it might be beneficial to read the story as a trauma narrative, wherein the issue of inverted reality could be better understood as descriptive of the daughters’ response to events encumbered with trauma, a concept to which we shall now turn.

The Traumatised Daughters of Lot

The fact that Genesis 19.1–29 is replete with traumatic elements hardly needs defending. In the space of one chapter, the daughters narrowly escape being gang-raped (Gen. 19.6–11), lose their grooms (v. 14), ⁴ their mother (v. 26), and witness the destruction of their home (vv. 23–25). Although these events were undoubtedly painful, trauma is more than the pain traditionally associated with suffering. As noted by Shelly Rambo (2010: 7), ‘Suffering is what, in time, can be integrated into one’s understanding of the world. Trauma is what is not integrated in time; it is the difference between a closed and an open wound. Trauma is an open wound.’ This open wound will keep on bleeding, causing the survivor to experience the ordeal not in the moment of impact but rather belatedly and repetitively through phenomena such as flashbacks, nightmares and/or other cognitive disruptions (Caruth, 2016: 11-12; van der Kolk, 2014 :194–196). In fact, the events of the original trauma can be triggered by stimuli similar to the original incident, such as headlights for a car crash victim or the sight of a fist for an assault survivor (see Kleim, Ehring and Ehlers, 2012: 173-181; Michael, Ehlers and Halligan, 2005: 103–112). When triggered, the survivor is taken back in their mind’s eye to the moment of the initial trauma; it is felt as happening here and now, and it is yet again overwhelming the victim’s ability to cope, leaving them unable to incorporate the event as part of their autobiographical narrative (van der Kolk, 2014: 51–73). Trauma is truly an open wound without a timeline, significance or meaning. It will keep trying to express that which it cannot ever express, that is, the experience of the original trauma.

An annihilation event such as the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah could certainly be envisaged as traumatic and overwhelming, the effect of which would have only been compounded for the daughters by the presence of other incidences of direct trauma, such as the threatened gang-rape or the death of the daughters’ grooms and mother. ⁵ However, as traumatic as these events may have been, they still need to be understood within the framework of the daughters’ socio-cultural context, as their lived experience would have been largely influenced by patriarchal standards and expectations. Expressions of trauma are at least to some extent culturally mediated and living within a society in which we find ourselves discriminated against based on, for example, skin colour, ability or, as in our text, gender, can have a lasting impact on a person’s psyche and the way they view themselves and the world (Root 1992: 240). This kind of cumulative experience of trauma has been labelled by Maria Root (1992: 240) as ‘insidious trauma’, ⁶ and I have discussed the possible effects that living under an ancient patriarchal system as that portrayed in Genesis 19 would have had on the daughters of Lot in detail elsewhere (Cobb, 2021: 208–223). In short, we can see the impact of patriarchal subjugation in the narrative quite early on in Lot’s callous treatment of his family at large and his daughters in particular (Gen. 19.1–29). Lot’s actions revolve around the preservation of male honour, whether this is his or that of his presumably male guests, and this is done completely at the expense of his daughters’ well-being. ⁷ Paradoxically, we can hear echoes of patriarchal propaganda even in the daughters’ decision to rape their father. In the justification given by the elder daughter, she assumes a world-wide destruction, ⁸ which results in a plot to intoxicate Lot to preserve seed ‘from/by our father’ (Gen. 19.31–32; Cobb, 2021: 218–219). As I have noted, in the daughter’s reasoning, we hear a mixture of patriarchal pressures and expectations, that is, the obligation to produce children at any cost (Cobb, 2021: 216-221). In this story, these anxieties ultimately lead to the horrifying end to produce children through incest, as no other option is deemed viable. Although such a conclusion might seem unpalatable, the overpowering patriarchal context of the daughters would have made their actions plausible, even probable.

In addition, in the context of trauma, the daughters’ actions could further be understood as expressions of what Root (1992: 241) calls ‘survival behaviors’. In the event of trauma, survivors will focus their energy on behaviours that support survival, which means that actions and attitudes that might be otherwise desirable, such as generosity, forgiveness or considering the other’s point of view, may all be lacking for the purpose of staying alive (Root, 1992: 247). In the case of the daughters, their survival instinct would have been directed primarily toward the preservation of their offspring, which in view of their cultural heritage would have hardly been surprising. In face of perceived annihilation, the daughters would have made certain of the survival of Lot’s line, even at the cost of moral and/or ethical norms. As further noted by Root (1992: 247), survival state is ‘predicated on the assumption that it is better to risk a false positive than a false negative, which could be devastating.’ The end of the father’s line was not something the daughters wished to contemplate, so in extremis, they raped their father to preserve his seed.

Traumatised Daughters and Revenge

Considering the patriarchal setting of the daughters’ lived experience and the impact of trauma in their lives (Gen. 19.1–29), the events of the later pericope (Gen. 19.30–38) could become more understandable, if no less horrifying. However, because the actions of the daughters in vv. 30–38 not only parallel but invert the threatened gang-rape in vv. 6–8, it might be possible to understand their deeds as evidence of yet another layer of traumatic conduct, namely that of revenge. The suggestion that at least an element of retaliation would have seeped into the daughters’ motivations is not a particularly common occurrence; nevertheless, a few biblical scholars have suggested it. For example, Victor Hamilton (1995: 35–36) argues that

…Lot’s proposal regarding his daughters is later turned around via the

daughter’s proposal in relation to their father (vv. 30-38). If he is so willing

to turn them over as pawns to a sexually aroused mob, then they, when

their chance comes, will not hesitate to get their father drunk and have

intercourse with him. One licentious act deserves another, with villain and

victim exchanging roles.

Although revenge is not directly mentioned in this statement, the idea of ‘villain and victim exchanging roles’ and the daughters getting what essentially seems payback against their father would certainly seem to indicate vengeance as a motif. A clearer statement of vengeful intentions is provided by Calum Carmichael (2012: 102), who notes that ‘the compiler of the stories in Gen 19 doubtless views what the daughters do to their father as paying him back in kind – via inappropriate nonconsensual sexual activity – for what he attempted to do to them. An inexorable law of mirroring retribution is seen to be at work.’ The ideas of retribution and the daughters paying Lot back are clearly linked in Carmichael’s statement, strongly raising the possibility that more than survival was on the daughters’ minds. Although both Hamilton and Carmichael raise the possibility of the daughters’ vengeful intentions, neither explore revenge further in view of trauma theory. This raises the question of how the actions and motivations of Lot’s daughters in Genesis 19.30–38 could be further understood if read not only as a tale of vengeance but also as a tale of trauma.

To begin with, we need to define our terms. Ulrich Orth (2004: 63) describes revenge as having ‘four cognitive constituents’. These are, firstly, the individual perceiving a severe harm done to them by another person who, secondly, is held responsible for the harm regardless of any explanations or excuses. Thirdly, the harm is recognized by the victim as morally wrong, which, fourthly, gives rise to a desire to retaliate (Orth, 2004: 63). In their landmark work on revenge, Tomas Böhm and Suzanne Kaplan (2011) studied the inner workings of revenge in detail, and their observations are worth quoting here at length. They noted that once we feel violated, this can lead to excruciating feelings which in turn may give rise to a desire to retaliate. In so doing, we attempt to

rise out of our position of weakness and regain an inner psychic balance through re-establishing our self-esteem. Revenge fantasies and revenge acts can be seen, therefore, as the individual’s way of coping with or defending themselves against the strong feelings that come up in connection with being violated. Psychoanalysts have described revenge as a defence against fear, shame, loss, grief, anger, and hatred, whereby the individual directs their anger outwardly, away from their painful feelings (Böhm and Kaplan 2011: 34). ⁹

Looking at these explanations together, we see an image emerging in which feelings of revenge originate from at least a perceived severe harm done to an individual. ¹⁰ To re-establish their sense of identity and agency, the person attempts to regain their losses and their sense of power by acts and/or phantasies of revenge. ¹¹ Feelings of revenge can thus help a person mediate between emotions of, among others, fear, shame and grief to gain mastery over their inner and/or outer self. Although feelings of revenge can result from less grievous incidents such as workplace offenses (see Bradfield and Aquino, 1999: 607–631), traumatic events can unleash an avalanche of emotions that can make acting out even harder to resist. In an interview Kaplan and others conducted with a woman who had survived the Rwandan genocide, the feelings and possibility for revenge become palpable. She said (cited in Böhm and Kaplan, 2011: 144), ‘To open the window in the morning and see the people who murdered my family… I feel like I have open wounds… the wounds in my skin that had just closed… are opening up again. I don’t know how I am going to react… now I have the power to do something.’ The sense of moral justification to act out, the sense of agency gained from the ability to take action and the hesitancy against acting are all visible in the response. To misquote Shakespeare, to act out or not to act out, that indeed becomes the question.

Revenge is not a new concept within the field of trauma research; nevertheless, systematic studies of revenge after trauma are not prevalent, nor are some of the elements of revenge, such as the influences that would cause some but not all to seek revenge after a traumatic experience, completely understood (Gäbler and Maercker, 2011: 42–43). What we can observe from contemporary studies is that feelings of revenge arising from unjust and/or traumatic experiences are not uncommon. An example of this may be found in research conducted by Ulrich Ort, Leo Montada and Andreas Maercker (published in 2003 and 2006), which focused mostly on female victims of violent crimes including rape, bodily harm, robbery and deprivation of liberty. In their study, they discovered that feelings of revenge as measured, albeit retrospectively, within four weeks of victimization correlated with the survivors’ current feelings of vengeance, with the average time of four years having lapsed since the event. In other words, feelings of revenge were found to persist even years after the original incident whereby length of time had little to no effect on the strength of these feelings (Orth, 2004: 68). More recently in a paper published in 2019, Limor Goldner, Rachel Lev-Wiesel and Guy Simon conducted research among 278 adults (102 men; 176 women) of whom 43.4% had experienced sexual abuse and 55.1% physical assault. ¹² They discovered that contrary to expectations, both men and women exhibited similar ‘levels of desire for revenge’ (Goldner, Lev-Wiesel and Simon, 2019: 5). Furthermore, women reported even higher ‘levels of feelings of injustice…than men’ (Goldner, Lev-Wiesel and Simon, 2019: 5). On the basis of these results, it would have been reasonable to hypothesise that women would have also experienced the same number or more revenge phantasies than men and even see purpose in acting out their feelings. However, the opposite proved to be the case. In total, women not only had fewer revenge phantasies than men, but women also described revenge phantasies as pointless, even dangerous, as they caused ‘feelings of guilt and shame’ (Goldner, Lev-Wiesel and Simon, 2019: 5, 7). These results, according to Goldner, Lev-Wiesel and Simon, could at least in part be explained by the gendered nature of revenge. In the West, men’s sense of identity and power are often linked to displays of violence that preserve their status, manhood and/or honour, whereas women are viewed as submissive and avoidant, which in turn may discourage displays of violence (Goldner, Lev-Wiesel and Simon, 2019: 7). Indeed, more disturbingly, if women act out on their feelings of revenge, they often turn them inward into acts of self-harm or suicidal thoughts (Goldner, Lev-Wiesel and Simon, 2019: 2).

Overall, revenge can be viewed as having both a positive and a negative effect on an individual’s psyche. On the positive side, feelings of revenge can help bridge the gap between the utter helplessness experienced during a traumatic event and the re-establishment of agency. In the study done by Goldner, Lev-Wiesel and Simon, both men and women reported that revenge thoughts helped them cope with the trauma. Indeed, the researchers suggest that ‘the desire for revenge can serve as a means of rehabilitation and self-healing by instilling a sense of power and control through the planning of vengeance, even if there is no actual act of revenge’ (Goldner, Lev-Wiesel and Simon, 2019: 7), an outcome they note is also supported by other studies (see Morrissette 2012 and Berger 2014). However, this initial and perhaps even necessary feeling of empowerment can have a negative side if the individual ruminates over vengeful feelings/phantasies for long periods or if these turn into thoughts of self-harm. As already noted by Judith Herman in her seminal work on trauma theory in 1992, although revenge phantasies ‘are normal responses to abusive treatment…repetitive revenge fantasies actually increase her [the victim’s] torment’ (Herman, 1992: 104, 189). In the study mentioned earlier by Ort, Montada and Maercker (2006: 238–240), it was suggested that with increasing time, rumination over ‘victimization-related themes’ could even be linked to ’posttraumatic stress reactions’. In the long run, it seems that revenge phenomena can become counter-productive and instead of producing feelings of agency and empowerment, ultimately hinder a person’s recovery (Böhm and Kaplan, 2011: 133–186; Gäbler and Maercker, 2011: 50; Horowitz, 2007: 24–27).

How would reading Genesis 19 in light of trauma and revenge help us understand the daughters’ actions? Admittedly, there is no direct indication in the text that the women committed incest as payback for Lot’s earlier deeds (Frymer-Kensky, 2002: 259). Rather, their concern is solely in the continuation of the patriarchal line (Gen. 19.31–32), as was illustrated earlier in our discussion about insidious trauma. However, narratives in the Hebrew Bible do not always include details about personal feelings or motifs (e.g. Bathsheba in 2 Samuel 11. 4–5); this encourages the reader to search for a credible understanding between the lines. If read from a trauma perspective, it seems that picturing Lot’s daughters as experiencing feelings of revenge and injustice is at least a plausible explanation in the larger narrative context. Having been threatened by a potential gang-rape at the hand of an unruly mob because their father put his guests’ well-being ahead of his own children (Gen. 19.6–8) could certainly qualify as an occasion in which vengeful feelings would be understandable. Secondly, vengeful feelings could be seen as if not inevitable, then as a natural part of processing the trauma: feelings of injustice and revenge could help the daughters re-establish their agency in a patriarchal world where precious few other options were available.

If we were therefore to argue that Lot’s daughters were traumatised and might even have harboured feelings of revenge, could this help us understand the incestuous action to which they resort to preserve their father’s line at the end of the narrative? This is where our proposed theory has less empirical support due to the stated gendered nature of revenge. As noted by Goldner, Lev-Wiesel and Simon (2019: 2–3), in the West, men are encouraged to defend their manly honour, and women are expected to submit and desist from violence. In a strongly patriarchal culture like the one described in Genesis 19, such an understanding of patriarchal order is magnified and virtually absolutized when Lot, the paterfamilias, not only holds complete power over his female dependents but also even sees it (rightly or wrongly) ¹³ as his right to dispense with his daughters however he sees fit. On the basis of the research surveyed here, such a cultural context could have encouraged the daughters to withdraw, even to internalise their revenge impulses. Yet the question needs to be asked if the somewhat exceptional nature of the story might allow for exceptional actions? After all, the daughters do seem to genuinely think that the world as they know it has come to an end, in which case vengeful actions might not be quite so out of character: after all, if the world has ended, then what is there to lose if one were to act out on their inner demons? In addition, the surveyed research only indicates that women are less likely to engage in revenge phenomena. That does not mean that women never engage in acts of revenge. Here one might again appeal to the exceptional circumstances in which the women find themselves. Could such unusual circumstances also generate a topsy-turvy world where abused women rise to avenge crimes against their person, even if that person is their own father (see Hendel, Kronfeld and Pardes, 2010: 87–90)? The inverted nature of the story in Genesis 19.30–38 would certainly support such an understanding and would push the reversal even further by making the threatened rape in Genesis 19.6–8 a reality in Genesis 19.30–38. However, as noted earlier, there is no direct mention of vengeance in the text which means that the element of revenge needs to be inferred from the larger framework of the narrative rather than from explicit textual evidence.

Traumatised Daughters and Trauma Re-Enactment

Revenge is certainly a plausible motif for the daughters’ actions in Genesis 19.30–38; however, there may be another way to read the inversion of the theme of rape at the start and end of the story in a manner that contributes further to biblical trauma studies. Dominick LaCapra has argued that there are two ways of remembering trauma, one that is characterized by ‘acting out’ and the other by ‘working through’. During acting out, a traumatised person ‘is haunted or possessed by the past and performatively caught up in the compulsive repetition of traumatic scenes—scenes in which the past returns and the future is blocked or fatalistically caught up in a melancholic feedback loop’ (LaCapra, 2014: loc. 688 of 4915). In other words, during a period of acting out, a traumatised individual somewhat compulsively relives the events of the past as if no time has passed at all. However, working through is identified by LaCapra (2014: loc. 688 of 4915) as ‘an articulatory practice: to the extent one works through trauma…one is able to distinguish between past and present and to recall in memory that something happened to one (or one’s people) back then while realizing that one is living here and now with openings to the future’. Working through is thus understood as one’s ability to say, ‘“Yes, that happened to me back then. It was distressing, overwhelming, perhaps I can’t entirely disengage myself from it, but I’m existing here and now, and this is different from back then”’ (LaCapra 2014: loc. 2208 of 4915). Such critical distance along with the ability to mourn and reflect on the past means that a person can become an active agent in the present and make choices based not on a compulsion to repeat the past but on an ability to reflect upon it.

LaCapra is also quick to underscore that acting out and working through are not mutually exclusive responses in trauma processing, and both might be needed in understanding one’s traumatic experience. Consequently, working through might be better understood as a ‘counter-vailing force’, whereby gaining critical distance from the trauma can help a person engage in the present. However, this does not mean that the individual necessarily ever fully transcends the original trauma (LaCapra, 2014: loc. 2208 and 2272 of 4915). Acting out and working through both remain parts of a complex process of understanding something that can ultimately never be understood.

The process of acting out, or the repetition compulsion, has long been acknowledged; however, there are several possible explanations as to its cause. These include, but are not limited to, understanding trauma re-enactments as spontaneous repetitions of past events that have not been verbalised or remembered (Chu, 1991: 327–332; see, also, Levy, 1998: 227, 231) or a way for the victimized person to neutralize their state of hyperarousal when exposed to stimuli similar to their traumatic past by compulsively re-victimizing themselves or others (van der Kolk, 1989). Sandra Bloom and Michael Reichert (1998) have suggested that traumatic re-enactments could even be non-verbal cries for help whereby ‘the traumatized person is trying to repeatedly “tell their story” in very overt, or highly disguised ways’. In this case, the re-enactments are the ‘language of behavior’, which we have simply lost the skill to interpret effectively (Bloom and Reichert 1998).

It is more than likely that the reasons for traumatic re-enactment are and will remain numerous and that no single explanation can account for all. For the purposes of our text, the description I will concentrate on is that of mastering the traumatic event, in which previous traumatic occurrences are replicated in a way that helps the victim ‘gain control’ or ‘master’ them. We must acknowledge that the notion of mastering trauma remains contentious, as life-long repetitions of trauma have seldom been proven to bring about such mastery (Levy, 1998: 228; van der Kolk, 1989: 1; van der Kolk, 2014: 32). Yet, similar to the argument made by LaCapra, where acting out and working though are both needed for trauma processing, Michael Levy (1998 :229) notes that in the short term, traumatic re-enactments can result in an adaptive process. As an example of this, Levy describes a woman who had experienced childhood sexual abuse and was terrified of physical contact. By enrolling herself in a massage training course, she was able to place herself in a situation that reminded her of the trauma but also, with the help of psychotherapy, work through her feelings and thus lessen her fear (Levy, 1998: 229). Levy also notes that actively repeating past traumatic experiences can, however, result in what he calls ‘a maladaptive defensive posture’ (Levy, 1998: 229). This includes actively coping with the trauma by abusing others where, for example, a childhood victim of sexual abuse might exploit others in later life. As Levy (1998: 229) further states, ‘In these cases, reenacting past abuse by becoming an active abuser is a defensive stance that ensures that the terror and helplessness related to the old traumatic situation or relationship do not get reexperienced.’

Looking at the story of Lot’s daughters in light of traumatic re-enactment and especially where it includes a maladaptive bent, does present the reader with some intriguing possibilities. First of all, this would suggest that the traumatisation of the daughters began long before the burning sulphur rained upon Sodom; rather, it was Lot’s offer of their bodies to an angry mob that, according to Katherine Low (2010: 40), not only would count as ‘an act of violation’ but also that of ‘sexual abuse’. As noted earlier, even if in a patriarchal setting Lot’s repugnant offer of his daughters could be construed as the ‘lesser of two evils’, this does not negate the fact that in one fell swoop Lot would have relinquished his role as the protector of and provider for his own children (Jeansonne, 1990: loc. 495–532 of 2114; Tsoffar, 2007: 7. See, also, Bechtel, 1998: 123). That their father would have used his patriarchal authority to such ends must have been deeply traumatising for the daughters, even though his offer remained merely a threat due to the intervention of the divine visitors (Gen. 19.10–11). However, as research has shown, the psychological impact of a threat can be as or even more devastating than the actual experience of physical violence (Stark, 2007: 251; see, also, Herman, 1992: 77), which would indicate that the expression of a threat rather than the execution of it may well have been enough to traumatise the daughters.

Secondly, in the offer of his daughters, Lot would have also destroyed any trust the women would have had in him, which is an important matter when studying the passage through the lens of trauma. As noted by Jenny Edkins (2003: 4), to experience an event as traumatic, something more than utter helplessness is required; rather, ‘What we call trauma takes place when the very powers that we are convinced will protect us and give us security become our tormentors: when the community of which we considered ourselves members turns against us or when our family is no longer a source of refuge but a site of danger.’ One could hypothesise that in the event of Lot’s offer of his daughters, the bond of trust was irrefutably and irreparably broken. Lot’s hesitance to lead his family to safety and the fear guiding these decisions (Gen. 19.16–20, 30) could have further confirmed to the daughters that their father was not a source of safety, guidance, or morals. ¹⁴ This would have left the daughters without the safe presence of a parent in their lives, especially after the demise of their mother.

Thirdly, that both the plan as well as the act of incest are replicated for both daughters (Gen. 19.31–36) may indicate that the act of repetition holds particular importance in the story. Exum (2020: 87–89, 94–95) has suggested that it might imply the unfurling of an unconscious androcentric phantasy, whereas Hendel, Kronfeld and Pardes (2010: 89) have interpreted the scene as ‘unsparing in its shaming of Lot’: the repetition of the sexual act heightens the reversal of Lot from an active patriarch to a ‘submissive sexual object’. Although both these positions have merit, from the point of view of trauma theory, the act of repetition could be read as the daughters’ need to re-enact their original trauma of their father offering their bodies to be abused. In this case, the roles would have become reversed: rather than play the role of the victim, the daughters become the perpetrators. This further feeds into the theme of inversion in the story, yet from the point of view of contemporary research into traumatic re-enactment, such a conclusion is problematic. As has been noted by Bessel van der Kolk (1989: 3–4), studies show that it is in fact abused men and boys who tend to abuse others, whereas abused women are much more likely to become revictimized in later life. This of course does not mean that women never rape men, ¹⁵ and in a study of female sexual perpetrators in the United States published in 2017, it was discovered that female on (adult) male rapes may well be more common than previously thought (Stemple, Flores and Meyer, 2017: 302–311). Yet again, just because women can become sexual predators does not necessarily indicate that daughters would rape their fathers, especially as evidence to the contrary is abundant, at least in the contemporary world (Herman 2000). ¹⁶

However, fitting with the theme of inversion, could one yet again appeal to the exceptional nature of the narrative? With the daughters being traumatized by their father’s brutal treatment of them, could the incest narrative be understood as the daughters’ attempt at mastering the trauma and, to quote Levy again (1998: 229), to make sure that ‘the terror and helplessness related to the old traumatic situation or relationship do not get reexperienced’. If in the daughters’ minds, the world really had come to an end and the women had judged their father to be ill-qualified to act in the best interests of the family, placing Lot in the position of a drunken, terrorized object with little agency serves both the purposes of traumatic re-enactment as well as the production of the desired offspring. In the larger narrative framework, the goals of both actions coincide, even if unintentionally. That the daughters’ (and the father’s) own bodies become the instruments of this act of mastery is, of course, troubling; however, partaking in risky or dangerous behaviour as part of traumatic re-enactment is sadly a common occurrence (Chu, 1992: 259–269; Herman, 1992: 39–40; van der Kolk, 1989: 1–3; 2014: 31–33). In an interview recorded by James Chu, a 22-year-old woman with a history of sexual abuse by male family members reported frequently prostituting herself. As an explanation of her behaviour, she (cited in Chu, 1992: 261) stated, ‘When I do it, I’m in control. I can control them through sex.’ As noted by Chu (1992: 261), the woman expressed ‘contempt for the men who used her, and she was only minimally aware of how she was being exploited.’ Although the act of prostitution was in effect a way for the woman to revictimize herself, part of her understood the act as an attempt at mastery whereby she was in control of those (men) who had previously harmed her (see Levy, 1998: 229). Although this case does not provide like-for-like evidence for the text about Lot’s daughters, it does raise the intriguing possibility that the trauma of potential gang-rape at the behest of their father, as well as any anger or contempt the women may have felt towards him, might have resulted in a traumatic re-enactment and at least in part explain their choices.

Furthermore, traumatic repetition does not contradict any of the evidence presented in the text or require the addition of an external motif but rather reads the story as one acted out by traumatised victims of patriarchal prerogatives. In fact, understanding the story as an expression of traumatic re-enactment would view the details of the repeated incest (Gen 19.31–36) as more than unnecessary detail or authorial flourish; rather, the repetition ties the narrative together in its description of rape at the start and end and, furthermore, gives credence to the description of daughter-initiated rape as traumatic re-enactment by describing an inverted reality wherein the daughters’ experience comes full circle.

Conclusion

In the beginning of this article, I introduced an episode from Rizzoli & Isles (Season 1 Episode 7), in which Courtney, the sister of a gang-rape victim, was running a marathon in her sister’s memory to kill the three rapists, all of whom had escaped justice. After an intense period of investigation, the team locate the third rapist and detective Jane Rizzoli manages to intervene just before Courtney shoots the last perpetrator. As Courtney is restrained, she shouts, ‘Wait. One more. One more. Just one more. Please, just let my sister rest in peace.’ In these words, we can hear echoes of Courtney’s witness to her sister’s trauma as well as that which Courtney herself would have endured. We can also observe the need to restore some sort of sense of justice, of peace, back into the world, a yearning that somehow could be fulfilled by the death of the final rapist.

In the story of Lot’s daughters, the trauma the women had endured at the hands of their father is also evident. Not only were the daughters encumbered by an oppressive patriarchal regime, but they also became potential gang-rape victims at the behest of their father (Gen. 19.6–8). In the inverted reality that pervades the incest story in Genesis 19.30–38, it was possible to view the daughters’ rape of their father not just as an expression of insidious trauma (Gen. 19.31–32) but also that of revenge. The reversed roles of the perpetrators and the victims – and feelings of vengeance, often being part of the first stages of trauma processing – could support this reading; however, we discovered that traumatic re-enactment could perhaps fit even better with the textual witness of the narrative. In this case, the repetition of the plan and act of incest would be evidence of the daughters’ attempt at mastering their trauma by both repeating their earlier trauma of potential gang-rape as they reversed it by the daughters becoming the aggressors. Still, as with revenge, mastering trauma in this way rarely results in healing or wholeness. In the episode of Rizzoli and Isles, Jane Rizzoli responds to Courtney’s distraught words by saying, ‘Murder never brings any peace, to the living or the dead.’ As it happens, the statute of limitations had not yet closed for the rape, and the third rapist is arrested alongside Courtney. Although the arrest of the last rapist could serve as a sign of justice, I would not qualify this as a happy ending. The third rapist is captured, yet Courtney faces potentially two life-sentences in prison. Likewise, Lot’s daughters succeed in their attempt at rape but become foremothers of Israel’s two unwelcome neighbours, Moab and Ammon. Perhaps as the audience, the best we can do with trauma narratives such as these is to try to understand the world of the characters: we can observe, we can comprehend, and we can empathize rather than dismiss the stories out of hand or as something ‘we would never do’ (cf. Claassens, 2021: loc. 2441 of 5160; Cobb, 2021: 221). And although neither story has a happy ending, both offer at least a glimmer of hope. In the case of Rizzoli & Isles, justice might yet be served in the sentencing of the last rapist even if Courtney herself will never taste freedom again. In the case of Lot’s daughters, the women survive to live a life beyond Sodom and Gomorrah even if only in the lives of the nations they bear (Claassens, 2020: 40, 45-46). Revenge or re-enactment, life does continue in both stories, even if forever in the shadow of the trauma the women endured.