Abstract
From the early treatments focused on historical-critical methods to the interdisciplinary approaches of the social sciences today, Ruth research continues to speak to the current developments within interpretive conversations. This article briefly surveys major commentaries on Ruth, and then discusses the shifts in research from 2001 to today, highlighting future trajectories and trends.
Keywords
Introduction
‘The more time I have spent with the book, the more convinced I have become that it is exceedingly complex and ambiguous’ (Linafelt 1999: xiii). For those who have spent time in this four-chapter idyllic story, Linafelt’s reflection in his 1999 commentary rings true today. Ruth is a provocative book in the Hebrew Bible/Old Testament—deceivingly simple yet incredibly sophisticated. One of only two books in the entire biblical corpus named after a woman (the other being Esther), Ruth encompasses the most feminine dialogue in a complete story along with significant lexical ambiguity. The unique features of the book of Ruth (feminine qualities, female relationship, canonical placements, ambiguity) have created a platform for the employment of Ruth in a variety of biblical research approaches and methods.
The aim of this survey is to map the field of Ruth research through significant commentaries and monographs, and then to chart the growing trends from 2001–2019 (see previously Erickson and Davis 2016). This survey will also highlight topics of interest within particular methods that have been given significant attention in recent research on Ruth.
This article will be organized in four main movements. The first will be a broad sweep of the major commentaries and monographs from the 1950s until now, noting shifts in trends from the traditional historical-critical methodological approaches to a broad range of literary and social science approaches. Second, long-standing critical issues within the field of Ruth research will be addressed—namely, Ruth’s location in the canon(s), genre, Ruth in the Megilloth, and Ruth in Old Testament Theology. The third movement will identify specific foci of noteworthy interest within recent scholarship (e.g., widows, violence, clothes and feet, sex and role play, and borders of ethnicity and identity). Finally, future trajectories for Ruth research will be explored within reception history (film and literature), studies within the social sciences (gender studies, identity, psychoanalytic analysis, clothing), and specialized contextual approaches (migrant, indigenous, Asian and Asian American, and Latino/a/x readings).
Commentaries and Monographs
Early commentaries, though focusing on historical-critical issues and methodologies, engaged in paradigm-shifting questions that have taken new directions in recent years. From early commentaries and monographs, some of the concerns that have been woven throughout diverse treatments approach Ruth as a story about loss, relationship, and ethnic identity. These issues pervade every commentary, though newer approaches engage current interdisciplinary trends, with critical foci concentrated on intercontextual perspectives. Standard commentaries on Ruth, focused on issues of a historical and linguistic nature, with attention to particular themes and theological topics, include Myers (1955), Campbell (1975), Hubbard (1988), Sasson (1995), Bush (1996), Nielsen (1997), and Block (1999). Holmstedt provides a detailed analysis of Ruth with a particular linguistic and grammatical analysis (2010).
Campbell (1975) models the historical-critical focus with a particular emphasis on dating the book of Ruth (950–700 bce) but also with considerable attention to literary, linguistic, and grammatical elements. He challenges the earlier proposal of late features within the text. Several commentaries link this linguistic focus on the dating of the text to the purpose of the text: Myers (1955), Glanzmann (1959), Sasson (1989), Gow (1992), and Wünch (1998). A key area of attention is distinguishing ‘Standard Biblical Hebrew’ and ‘Late Biblical Hebrew’ in order to situate the text in a particular time frame (Bush 1996: 30). Taking a cue from theories that argued later linguistic features were not portrayed in the text, Nielsen argues for the purpose of Ruth’s Moabite ancestry as a defense within the Davidic monarchy (Nielsen 1997: 24-26). Though these issues have dominated much of the early commentaries’ focus, turns toward social science models, with a focus on constructions of identity, social affiliation, and endogamy, also appear in commentaries from the early 1990s onward (Sakenfeld 1999: 4-5; Matthews 2004).
Commentaries focusing on literary approaches to Ruth include Larkin (2000), Nielsen (1997), Linafelt (1999), Driesbach (2012), and Alter (2015). LaCoque focuses on the subversive elements in Ruth (2004) and Linafelt draws out ambiguity within the grammar and syntax, highlighting the subtle irony exemplified in the focus on the women and concluding that the story is ‘perhaps not about some king after all’ (1999: 81). Fentress-Williams posits Ruth as a comedy through a Bakhtinian lens (2012). Matthews demonstrates that Ruth contains strong intertextual motifs, as a ‘miniversion of the Exodus account of the return and exile as envisioned in Isa 40, Jer 32, and Ezek 37’ (2004: 212). Eskenazi and Frymer-Kensky offer a new translation and commentary examining the intertextual connections of Ruth in the Hebrew Bible, significant themes and concepts (conversion, redemption, hesed), and interpretations of Ruth from pre-modern rabbinic to contemporary readings (2011: lvi-lxvii).
Volumes with a particular focus on teaching and preaching in congregations include Sakenfeld (1999), Pressler (2002), and Driesbach (2012). Some adopt a theological and canonical focus (e.g., Atkinson 1985). Several commentaries situate Ruth with Judges because of canonical placement in the Protestant tradition (Younger 2002; Phillips 2004; Duguid 2005; Cundall and Morris 2008; Way 2016; Evans 2017; Fowl and Smit 2018). Commentaries including Joshua with Ruth are Harris, Brown and Moore (2000), Pressler (2002), Franke (2005), Walton (2009), Goldingay (2011), Coleson, Stone, and Dreisbach (2012), and Chisholm (2013). Ruth and Esther are often placed together as part of the Megilloth. Some of the commentaries combining these two books include Bush (1996), Linafelt (1999), Larkin (2000), Duguid (2005), Queen-Sutherland (2018), and Taylor (forthcoming).
Signifying a shift from Campbell (1975), the Yale Anchor Bible series introduced a new edition, a second commentary on Ruth by Jeremy Schipper (2016). These two commentaries on Ruth in the Anchor Bible Series exemplify the shift in current trends in Ruth research, from an attempt to secure dating considerations in the text in order to reveal the objectives of the story to a more open discussion that allows for broader and more theologically complex nuances. Demonstrating this shift, Schipper translates from the Masoretic Text and takes into account the interpretive assessments from other traditions in order to ‘explain various choices’ in his particular translation judgments (2016: 4). This fluidity extends into his discussion on genre and dating, resisting a definitive stance but remaining open in dialogue with linguistic data and literary connections. Schipper ‘concentrates on the nature of relationships in Ruth’, and this focus ‘foregrounds the negotiations throughout the book of ability, asymmetrical authority, blessings and their absence, divine activity, ethnicity, exogamy, gender, hesed, household structures, human desires, impoverishment, labor, patriarchy, religious expression, responsibilities of the clan, sexuality, and status, among other topics’ (2016: 29). Schipper works closely with linguistic and literary features, taking into account reception history, with attention to recent discourse within biblical studies on gender, sexual desire, and the ideological dimensions of exogamy. Noting this shift, commentaries in this trajectory include Hawk (2015) and McKeown (2015). Queen-Sutherland includes indigenous readings (2018). Another significant translation and commentary that takes into account the linguistic features of Ruth and argues for it as a late book while also examining issues of exogamy is Alter (2015).
Monographs and collected essays with a feminist approach include the pioneering analyses of Ruth by Trible (1976, 1978) and Fuchs (1999). Kates and Reimer note the significance of reading Ruth as an outsider, as ‘other’ (1994). Alpert (1996) challenges the hetero-normative storyline and illuminates a ‘powerful love’ between Ruth and Naomi. Goss and West offer a reading of Ruth as a queer ancestress (2000). Duncan also offers a queer reading of Ruth and Naomi’s relationship (2000). Essays in Brenner’s Ruth and Esther (1999) use a variety of social science methods and perspectives including archeological and ethnographical perspective (Meyers 1999); indigenous re-readings through a Cherokee and African (Botswana) lens (Donaldson 1999; Dube 1999); and a feminist commentary on the Torah through the story of Ruth (Fischer 1999). Koosed (2011) examines the character of Ruth through a feminist perspective, utilizing gleaning as a lens of metaphor and method, particularly inspired by Agnès Vardes’s 2001 documentary, The Gleaners and I (Koosed 2011: 6). Feminist approaches that utilize insights and concepts from Bakhtin, a Russian literary critic and philosopher, include Pardes (1993) and Aschkenasy (2007).
Fewell and Gunn ‘read Ruth as a novel or short story…from a literary critical perspective’ (1990: 13). Their goal with the characters is to ‘subvert the notion of type’ (1990: 15) as defined by Berlin (1983: 23-42), acknowledging the unique qualities and distinctions of ‘type’, ‘full-fledged characters’, and ‘agents’. In order to subvert expectations of the story through genre signifiers and character types, Fewell and Gunn explore complexities of the characters, comparing them to people in real life. Resisting a simplified, solitary trait analysis such as a loyal person, Fewell and Gunn explore character construction through ‘careful and imaginative gap filling’ (1990: 16). Grossman offers a close literary reading (2015) and Korpel focuses on Ruth’s literary character, along with technical linguistic work (2001). Ziegler offers a somewhat traditional characterization of Ruth and Boaz, coupled with close reading in dialogue with Jewish exegesis (2015). Giles and Doan destabilize traditional readings and present the book of Ruth as a ‘deceptively subversive story about Naomi’ by uncovering traces of an original oral account (2016: x).
Several articles focus on critical themes and motifs in Ruth such as redemption (Adelman 2012; Auld 2018) and moral agency (Fewell 2015). Deuteronomic legalities are highlighted by Kruger (1984). Embry reveals that redemption of property is a key issue in Ruth and illustrates it through an intertextual example from Num. 27.1-11 with Zelophehad’s daughters (2016). Halton draws out the provocative overtones and ambiguity in Ruth 3, making a case that Naomi uses Ruth for sexual entrapment (2012). Agriculture is another key motif, as illustrated by Britt (2004), Koosed (2016), and Snow (2017). Ostriker draws out themes of fertility in Ruth, highlighting the irony that while the story is ‘gynocentyric’, the bookends are ‘androcentric’ (2002: 343).
Long-standing Critical Issues in Ruth Research
Genre
The genre of Ruth is examined in almost every commentary and monograph. Genre analysis regarding Ruth continues to be full of promise, contributing engaging ideas as to the communicative purposes of the community that produced the text and the reception histories and trajectories of the communities receiving it. Genre, as discussed in these works, encompasses both form and function of a text and can aid in determining the purpose of the text (Newsom 2007). According to Hubbard, though not stated explicitly in the text of Ruth, scholars have identified five possible functions of Ruth (Hubbard 1988: 35, n. 18; Matheny 2018: 173):
Ruth as a polemic against Ezra and Nehemiah’s foreign wives’ policy
Ruth as pro-Davidic propaganda.
Ruth as having didactic value for ethical decisions, along with the characters modeling true wisdom.
Ruth as a story for entertainment value alone.
Ruth as the promotion of propaganda in respect to social duty.
Genre designations have included Gunkel’s ‘novella’ (Gunkel 1905), an ‘ancient nursery tale’ (Myers 1955: 42), and folklore (Gottwald 2009: 554-55). Brenner suggests that Ruth’s genre originated from distinct oral tales of Ruth and Naomi that were later fashioned together as a ‘folktale’ or ‘novella’ (1993: 77-81). Sasson designates Ruth as a folktale (1989: 214-15). Nielsen suggests Ruth is a ‘patriarchal narrative’ because of the link to ‘a chain of tails that often end with a genealogy’ (1997: 7). Block identifies it as an ‘independent historiographic short story’ (1999: 603). Scholars that suggest the genre label ‘short story’ include Campbell (1975: 90-92), Hubbard (1988: 47), and Schipper (2016: 16). More recent proposals focus on the literary quality of comedy within Ruth. Trible portrays Ruth as ‘A Human Comedy’ (1982: 161-90). Using a Bakhtinian lens, Fentress-Williams proposes the genre of Ruth as ‘a dialogic comedy’ (2012: 18). Queen-Sutherland recommends a reading strategy of Ruth’s genre as a māšāl (2016: 238). In a discussion of the elastic rhetorical function of genre (see Boer 2007), Matheny (2018) proposes that Ruth functions as a dialogic māšāl. Schipper helpfully suggests, ‘Instead of discussing the single genre of the book of Ruth, one could analyze its use in multiple genres’ (2016: 18; original emphasis). The development of innovative approaches to the conversation on genre designations continues to be a fruitful endeavor in Ruth research.
Location in the Canon(s)
‘Ruth is a travelling text’ (Matheny 2018: 195). In the Christian and Jewish canon lists, Ruth moves about, depending on tradition, liturgical use, and theological/historical intertextual connections. In the LXX, Vulgate, and the Protestant canon, Ruth is placed right after Judges and before Samuel. This placement connects intertextually with the bookends of Ruth in 1.1, and the ending toledot in 4.22 that highlights the birth of David. Lexical and thematic connections between Judges 19–21 and Ruth could indicate later redaction, potentially by a deuteronomistic editor, with a possible chronological significance (Nielsen 1997: 40; Linafelt 1999: xix). Parallels between Judges and Ruth could indicate another possibility. Namely, the one woman judge not specifically involved in bloodshed—Deborah—could parallel the Ruth story, a story set in a time of peace (Schipper 2016: 12).
In the MT, Ruth is placed in the Writings. Ruth’s canonical placement shifts, however, depending on which Hebrew manuscript is considered. In some, Ruth is located directly after Psalms, which makes Ruth the first in the festal scroll list, the Megilloth. This placement could indicate a liturgical significance. In Megilloth lists printed before 1937, Ruth often appears second in the list, reflecting the book’s liturgical use in the Jewish festival calendar (Hubbard 1988: 7). Other lists place Ruth after Proverbs, noting the lexical connection of ’ēšet hayil (‘woman of strength/valor’) (Campbell 1975).
Ruth in the Megilloth
Erickson and Davis (2016) recently surveyed current trends in research on the Megilloth. Ruth is part of the Megilloth collection, the five festal scrolls, in the Jewish canon. There is a Talmudic text, Berakhot 57b, which does not include Ruth but ‘it is not clear why Ruth is left out of this grouping’ (Epstein 1948: 355-56; Erickson and Davis 2016). There has been an increase in publications focused on the Megilloth (see Erickson and Davis 2016). Research has revolved around these key areas: purpose and origin of the grouping of the five scrolls (Stone 2013), intertextual studies, theology of the scrolls—i.e., absence of God, providence, relationality (Davis 2016; Fullerton Strollo 2016; Melton 2018), and intertextual/synchronic studies of Ruth and Esther (Eskenazi and Frymer-Kensky 2011; Avnery 2016; Davis 2016). Recent research trends demonstrate a revitalization in concentrated efforts to study the Megilloth as a collection and highlight particular theological topics.
Ruth in Old Testament Theology
Erickson and Davis noted the ‘lack of attention to Ruth in synthetic treatments of Old Testament theology’ (2016: 308). Though they were clear that their list was not ‘scientific or comprehensive’, they listed the citations of Ruth in major treatments of Old Testament theology:
Gerhard von Rad’s two-volume Old Testament Theology (1962–1965) lists 232 references to the book of Exodus and only three to the book of Ruth.
Rolf Rendtorff’s The Canonical Hebrew Bible: A Theology of the Old Testament (2005) lists 416 references to the book of Exodus and only seven to the book of Ruth.
Horst Dietrich Preuss’s two-volume Old Testament Theology (1991–1992) lists a total of 132 references to the book of Exodus and only six to the book of Ruth.
Walther Eichrodt’s two-volume Theology of the Old Testament (1967) lists 244 references to the book of Exodus and only five to the book of Ruth.
Erhard Gerstenberger’s Theologies of the Old Testament (2002) lists 72 references to the book of Exodus and only six to the book of Ruth.
Finally, in the following works, Ruth does not appear at all in the index of citations: Brevard Childs, Biblical Theology of the Old and New Testaments (1993); Walter Brueggemann, Theology of the Old Testament (1997); James Barr, The Concept of Biblical Theology (1999); Reinhard Feldmeier and Hermann Spieckermann, God of the Living (2011).
Some recent comprehensive works continue to neglect the use of Ruth in Old Testament theology. For example, Moberly’s Old Testament Theology: Reading the Hebrew Bible as Christian Scripture (2015), includes one reference. Ruth is absent from the Scripture index in Walton’s Old Testament Theology for Christians: From Ancient Context to Enduring Belief (2017).
Volumes with a significant use of Ruth include the following:
Paul R. House’s Old Testament Theology (1998) lists 13 references to Ruth.
John Goldingay’s three-volume Old Testament Theology (2009) lists a total of 65 references to Ruth.
Bruce K. Waltke’s An Old Testament Theology: An Exegetical, Canonical, and Thematic Approach (2007) contains 139 citations of Ruth.
An interest in Ruth’s particular contributions to Old Testament theology has advanced and may possibly increase, as illustrated with the above treatments in House, Goldingay, and Waltke. Lau and Goswell have dedicated an entire monograph to the theology of Ruth, focusing on major themes such as ‘famine’, ‘land’, ‘redemption’, ‘covenant’, and ‘kingship’ (2016: 3).
Emerging Areas of Emphasis in Ruth Research
Women in Ruth
The nature of how Ruth and Orpah were obtained as wives is noted by many scholars. The foreignness of Ruth and Orpah is highlighted immediately in Ruth 1.4, when the men took them as their wives: ‘Then they lifted/carried wives for themselves, Moabites. The name of one was Orpah and the name of the second was Ruth and they dwelled there for ten years’. The verb nāśā’, which means ‘to lift’ or ‘to carry’, has been a source of inquiry for scholars. This is the same verb used at the end of Judges in the scene where the Benjamite men ‘lift’ and ‘carry’ wives for themselves at the festival dance. Eskenazi and Frymer-Kensky point out that this term, ‘to lift’, ‘appears in texts dating from the postexilic period, often describing marriages with non-Judean/Israelite women (as in Ruth 1:4)’ (2011: xxx). Viewing its use as more negative, Block contends, ‘Although lexicons tend to treat these expressions as virtually synonymous, closer examination of the latter reveals a phrase loaded with negative connotation. This present idiom occurs only nine times in the Old Testament’ (1999: 628). In line with Block and taking this idea a step further, Queen-Sutherland points out that in connection to the kidnappings in Judg. 21.23, ‘the stigma attached to being Moabite’ along with ‘ancient Israel’s struggle over the question of intermarriage with foreigners’ alerts the reader to this question: ‘Is there foreboding here, and if so, for whom?’ (2018: 51-52). This initial scene introduces the importance in the story of Ruth’s identity as other, as a Moabite, and as a woman.
The three women—Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah—are central figures in the remainder of the story. Their husbands mysteriously die and these widowed women take center stage. Their identity as widows is another important area within Ruth research. Schipper remarks that ‘following these deaths, neither Naomi nor Ruth is ever described as an ’almānâ, a term often translated as widow but more precisely refers to a woman outside of the protection of household or clan’ (2016: 47). Rather, the terms used put them in relationship to their ‘male guardian’, terms such as ‘daughter-in-law’ (1.6-8, 22; 2.20-23; 3.3, 18; 4.15), ‘mother-in-law’ (1.14; 2.11, 18-19, 23; 3.1; 6.16-17), and ‘sister-in-law’ (1.15, two times). The type of widow these women could be termed becomes critical to the discussion. Steinberg notes three types of widows: ’almānâ—a widow with limited economic support, ’iššâ-’almānâ—an inherited widow with sons, and ’ēšet-hammēt (wife of the dead)—an inherited widow without sons (2004: 334). Eunhee Kang (2009) broadens the semantic range of meaning for the ’almānâ beyond mere economic plight. Kang considers the ’almānâ as ‘a widow with property and a widow with a fatherless child and property’ (2009: 86). Similar to Naomi’s situation, she is a widow with a son, but if that son should die before her, the widow will return to a more vulnerable status. Though these women are never described as a specific type of widow, Embry elucidates a possibility by emphasizing the redemption of property in the book. By drawing a parallel with the story of Zelophehad’s daughters in Num. 27.1, Embry shows that the redemption of property is a critical concern in connection to the survival of the widows, Ruth and Naomi (2016: 31-44). Nu (2015) illustrates the negative effects of modern-day interpretation of the levirate practice by the Kachin tribe in Myanmar. Their belief follows the stipulation for a widow to become the obligation of the deceased man’s brother and family. This modern interpretation removes agency from the widow and the man obligated to obtain her. In Nu’s article, the Ruth story is a source of comparison, and she desires a reassessment of this custom to restore agency and rights to the widowed women of Myanmar.
Fields of Violence
Several studies explore the social location of Ruth in a field and its potential for violence. Shepherd intertextually draws out the threat of sexual violence by ‘taking seriously the words of the book itself, “in the days of the Judges”, in which the book of Ruth as we have it situates itself’ (2018: 528-43). For Shepherd, this connection is critical because it highlights Ruth’s vulnerability and status as other. In Ruth 2.8-9, Boaz instructs Ruth to remain in his field, having warned the young men not to touch her. Queen-Sutherland notes that these instructions are an ‘indication that the fields could be a hostile setting for women’ (2018: 88). Nielsen comments that this dialogue reveals that there is ‘presumable fear of sexual attack and the same verb is used in Gen. 20:6, where God in a dream announces to Abimelech that he has protected him from “touching” Sarah’ (1997: 58, n. 90). Eskenazi and Frymer-Kensky translate ‘touch’ as ‘molest’ (2011: 35). Schipper translates the term ‘assault’ (2016: 116), and Hawk as ‘harass’ (2015: 80).
Another indicator of potential violence is the supervisor in Ruth 2, according to Fewell and Gunn (1990: 40-44). Grossman proposes that the supervisor purposefully recrafts Ruth’s words from verse 2 in order to place her in an undesirable light (2007). For example, Grossman proposes, ‘The various differences between the boy’s description and Ruth’s words are all related to the supervising boy’s feeling that Ruth gathered grain excessively…and that she must be carefully watched because she gathers too much grain’ (2007: 710). In a similar vein, Koosed writes, ‘The supervisor is certainly not very nice’ and gives a ‘negative and even deceptive portrayal of Ruth’ (2011: 75). Queen-Sutherland notes this threat as well when she comments, ‘Although Boaz has set into place all the right precautions, the threat of violence lurks in the background. Ruth must be attentive to her surroundings, following the female reapers’ (2018: 88). Dagley reveals how the vulnerability of the immigrant woman in modern society, with threats and experiences of ill treatment and sexual abuse, parallels the biblical story of Ruth (2019: 211).
Clothes and Feet: Intentional Ambiguity of Sex and Role Play
‘In chapter 3, the narrative describes what happens on the threshing floor too vaguely to confirm what exactly Boaz and Ruth did that night’ (Schipper 2016: 25). Several articles and monographs focus on the intentional narrative ambiguity of the scene on the threshing floor in Ruth 3. The range of suggestions of what was uncovered varies greatly. Bush writes that the term used for ‘foot’ is rare in Ruth and does not have sexual undertones (1996: 153). Schipper notes that the term is ambiguous and ‘it is unclear which body part Naomi is referring to’ (2016: 143). But some scholars see a reference to Boaz’s genitalia being uncovered because ‘feet’ in the Hebrew Bible can be a euphemism for genitalia (1 Sam. 24.4). Halton heightens the sexual nature and vulnerability of this scene when he writes that it is ‘centered around sexual entrapment using Ruth as bait’ (2012: 32). Frymer-Kensky adds that there are only two possibilities in this scene, either ‘she is uncovering him, or herself’ and the ambiguity may be an intentional ploy by the narrator ‘by not making the scene absolutely clear’ (2002: 248). Lee highlights this scene in relation to the trickster motif in the Hebrew Bible, where women ‘force the man’s hand’ through manipulation because of unjust societal structures (2012: 147). Queen-Sutherland playfully describes this scene: ‘The peek-a-boo show of feet is comical at one turn and frustrating at the next. Do these two roll in the hay or spend a chaste night close without fooling around?’ (2018: 139-40). Focusing on possible narratival purpose, Venter and Minnaar (2013) make the intertextual exegetical connection between Ruth 3.7 and Exod. 4.25-26, paralleling Ruth and Zipporah’s actions. They view these two intentional acts of foreign women as leading to the survival of the families of Israel. In an alternative Asian hermeneutic, Pa (2006) views this scene as one with a negative and oppressive message. In an Asian culture that values submission and obedience to men and mothers-in law, taken to an extreme, this story can devalue a woman’s agency over her own body. Pa’s reading corresponds to Gärtner-Brereton’s reading of this threshing floor scene, and Ruth’s role ‘as a harlot—sent by Naomi’ (2008: 94).
Clothing represents material ambiguity in the threshing floor scene as to the nature of Ruth’s request of Boaz to ‘spread out your wing over your handmaid because you are a redeeming one’ (Ruth 3.9). Berger views this as a move of ‘compassion’ not ‘passion’ in ‘contrast to the seductive act that Naomi envisioned’ (2009a: 443). Eskenazi and Frymer-Kensky understand the use of the term, kānāp (wing), to imply marriage, even ‘desexualizing’ what Naomi had previously instructed Ruth to do (2011: 59). Matthews views Ruth’s request for Boaz to ‘spread his cloak’ upon her as ‘to serve as her husband’s legal next of kin’ and in view of Ezek. 16.8 as a ‘symbolic act’ that will serve to provide for Ruth as his wife (2004: 234). Sasson (1995: 81) and Sakenfeld (1999) view the use of this term in connection with Ezekiel as a marriage metaphor. Conversely, the nature of this request could also have sexual overtones according to Fewell and Gunn (1990: 96-97), and Koosed highlights the ambiguous nature of this request: ‘By asking him to spread his wing over her Ruth may be asking him to marry her or inviting him to have sex or both’ (2011: 91). Linafelt, focusing on the meaning of kānāp as ‘extremity’ or ‘extension’, proposes that similar to the euphemism for feet, kānāp could also be ‘a euphemism for male genitalia’ (1999: 55).
Clothing research is an area that is expanding in biblical studies, and topics include how it functions as a material object, as well as psychologically, and what it communicates and symbolizes. Wagstaff highlights the complexities and interrelatedness of clothing, identity construction, and agency when she writes, ‘The intimate entanglement that exists between clothing and people, as well as acknowledging that clothes can restrict or enable people’s power and movement through their own materiality… [suggest] people construct clothing and clothes construct people’ (2017: 71). Clothing in Ruth contributes in part to the ‘construction of Ruth’s identity and the identity she seeks’ (Matheny forthcoming).
Borders of Ethnicity and Identity
Scholarship on Ruth pays increasing attention to ethnicity, identity, and speech—who Ruth is as woman and what she speaks and does not speak about her own identity as a Moabite. The text states several times that Ruth is a Moabite (1.4, 22; 2.2, 6, 21; 4.4, 10). Nielsen (1997) and Fentress-Williams (2012) view the Moabite references as responding to the negative tradition of origins in Gen. 19.30-38 with an alternative portrait. Van Wolde (1997a), Korpel (2001), and LaCocque (2005) highlight the critical assessment in the biblical corpus of Moabite women marrying Israelite men (e.g., Num. 25.1-5; 1 Kgs 11.1-2; Ezra 9.1-2). It is worth noting that Ruth never refers to herself as a Moabite and the ‘only possible reference she makes to her ethnicity occurs in 2:10 when she tells Boaz she is a “foreign woman”’ (Schipper 2016: 43-44). She ‘epitomizes the Moabite in the book of Ruth as not simply a foreigner but kin who has become foreign through ten generations since the time of Isaac and Lot’ (Schipper 2016: 43-44). Linafelt draws out the question of belonging, along with identity (1999: 60-61). The issue of identity and belonging is interwoven. Queen-Sutherland writes, The question is an important one and a key to understanding the role of identity in the story. In total, the question of Ruth’s identity is posed three times: first as Boaz asks, ‘to whom does this worker-girl belong?’ (Ruth 2:5), then to the woman he finds beside him on the threshing floor (3:9), and now by Naomi when Ruth returns to her. (2018: 129)
Identity pervades this story, as the woman Ruth is also called ‘my daughter’ by Naomi (Ruth 2.2) and Boaz describes her as a ‘young girl/maiden’. In her meeting with Boaz, Ruth calls herself a foreigner and later a maidservant (2.13). Identity shifts continually as Ruth is identified as a ‘Moabite’, ‘wife of the dead’ (Ruth 4.5), ‘daughter’ (3.11), ‘woman of valor’ (3.11), the ‘wife of Boaz’ (4.10), and ‘better than seven sons’ (4.15).
Scholarly analysis revolves around examining Ruth’s rejection or assimilation within Israel. Honig, through integration dynamics, emphasizes the loss and trauma Ruth experiences due to separation from her people and place (1999). Siquans underlines Ruth’s struggle for legal rights as a poor and foreign woman, and she argues that the phrase ‘wife of the dead’ is attributed to Ruth and this enables a possibility for Ruth to obtain ‘legal status’ through a levirate marriage, according to ‘Deuteronomic law’ (2009: 450). The continual reminder that Ruth is a Moabite, coupled with Naomi’s marginalization of Ruth through silence in the last chapter, reveals that Ruth will not be finally identified as a woman, a daughter-in-law, a widow, or as a Moabite (Matheny 2018: 239). Upon returning to Naomi, Ruth alters how she describes the workers (2.21) and Levine asserts that redemption is to be found ‘through separation, deception, and trickery’ (1992: 83). Carroll reads the character of Ruth as ‘among them, appreciated by them, but still not one of them’ (2015: 187; emphasis original). Ruth’s identity remains complex and continues to be an important topic in Ruth research.
Future Trajectories
Reception History
‘Because Ruth has continued to live outside her narrative, readings of her are well informed by her afterlives in literature, art, film, and liturgy’ (Koosed 2011: 6). Ruth research in reception history continues to be a growing area within monographs, commentaries, and articles and shows promise for future development. Koosed (2011) and Powell (2018) show Ruth’s use in literature, such as Fannie Flagg’s 1987 novel, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café. Koosed highlights the use of Ruth’s passionate speech to Naomi and ‘relationships that cross boundaries’ (2011: 56). ‘The book of Ruth is the narrative frame’ for Israeli director, Amos Gitaï’s 1991 French film, Golem: The Spirit of Exile (Koosed 2011: 129). Powell, employing language from Shelly Rambo, argues that the circumscribed presence of queer love in the book of Ruth, conspicuously mirrored in Gitaï’s cinematic portrayal of the biblical story, is symptomatic of experiences of melancholia (ethnic and sexual) among Israel’s returnees (2018). Exum illustrates the afterlives of Ruth in art using Philip Hermogenes Calderon’s painting, Ruth and Naomi, to show the complicated relationship among Boaz, Naomi, and Ruth, exemplified in the ‘dual identifications of the embracing couple as Ruth and Naomi and Ruth and Boaz’ and how the book of Ruth is ‘transformed through cultural appropriation’ (Exum 1996: 133, 136). Lyonhart and Matheny (forthcoming) demonstrate the parallels with Guillermo del Toro’s film, The Shape of Water (2017), reflecting on the use of ‘multiple Ruths, whether human or Monster’ and demonstrating how ‘Ruth’s narrative illustrates multiple aspects of this otherness, including ethnic identity, sexual ambiguity, violence, vulnerability, voiceless-ness, dangerous hospitality, and sacrifice’. Reception history continues to be valuable in communicating the diverse and creative ways Ruth has been appropriated across the disciplines.
Social Science Approaches
Social science approaches (e.g., gender, identity, psychoanalytic, and clothing studies) continue to be a flourishing area within Ruth research and show promise for expansion. Specifically, as noted above, clothing research has been an expanding area in biblical studies, as evidenced in new research groups formed at the SBL Pacific Northwest Regional Meeting during the past five years, which has now produced a volume (Finitsis 2019). Research varies from archaeological materiality to social scientific inquiries to ethnographic study. Wagstaff notes that the relationship between persons and clothing is ‘more complex than has often been assumed in biblical scholarship’ (2017: 16). Matheny (forthcoming) illustrates that the use of clothing in Ruth provides connections of ‘intertextual dialogue with Tamar (Gen. 38)’, also revealing how ‘women’s bodies represent society and desired outcomes’ and can also elicit disastrous results of ‘violence, alienation, rejection, and abuse’.
Reading desire in Ruth is another developing area in Ruth research. Desire encompasses sexual desire and also narrative desire. Schipper (2016) rightly points out that ‘none of the characters in Ruth ever express sexual preferences explicitly’ but he continues to highlight the ways in which gaps and ambiguity are addressed by interpreters. Interpretations of sexual desire have been an interest in Ruth research from early rabbinic readings and have continued to develop (2016: 35). Though not explicit within the text, the sexual ambiguity in Ruth has been noted by several scholars (Hubbard 1988; Linafelt 1999; Koosed 2011; Fentress-Williams 2012; Hawk 2015; McKoewn 2015; Powell 2018). Several scholars have written about heterosexual attraction between Boaz and Ruth, including Fewell and Gunn (1990) and Linafelt (1999). Those leaning towards more romantic readings are Hubbard (1988) and Bush (1996). Queer readings have interpreted areas of ambiguity within relations of sexual desire to illustrate homosexual desire (West 2006) and bisexual desire (Duncan 2000). Many of these interpretations center around the use of dābaq in Ruth 1.14 (‘to cling’) and its intertextual use in Gen. 2.24 in reference to a man and woman clinging in a marital context.
Narrative desire broadens questions of sexuality and brings into the conversation the identity of the readers. Powell helpfully articulates the complex affiliation between narrative and desire as that which ‘encompasses the broad affective, cultural, ideological, and psychological investments of both writers and readers… [and] encompasses methodologies from the disciplines of narratology, psychoanalytic theory, feminist theory, philosophical studies, and queer theory’ (2018: 31). Utilizing the work of Freud (principles of pleasure and pain; conflict between Thanatos and Eros), Lacan (jouissance; stade du miroir), and Kristeva (sémiotique; abjection; hermeneutic for the margins), Powell explores intersubjective relationship desires between the characters in Ruth and the interpreters engaging with the text (2018).
Specialized Contextual Approaches
Ruth research in specialized contextual approaches (e.g., migrant, indigenous, Asian, Asian American, Latino/a/x readings) is one of the primary areas of the engagement of ethics within Ruth research and more should be done in the future. Sun remarks that Ruth is ‘one of the most frequent characters to be examined through an Asian American lens’ (2019: 243). Positive indigenous readings of Orpah appear within a Cherokee social location (Donaldson 1999) and an African (Botswana) lens (Dube 1999). Scholars such as Pa (2006) have examined messages of obedience and oppression. Nu re-evaluates and challenges patriarchal models through the work of rereading the effects of these repressive trajectories (2015).
The theme of migration and immigration within the Hebrew Bible is noted by several scholars such as Nayap-Pot (1999), Ruiz (2011), De La Torre (2011), Gallagher (2013), Carroll (2012, 2017), and Dagley (2019). Carroll reads Ruth alongside the issues of ‘first-generation immigrants into the host culture’, highlighting themes and tensions of ‘boundaries’, ‘ethnicity’, and ‘assimilation’ (2015: 185). Dagley contextualizes Ruth alongside the experience of women migrants, mainly Mexican women (2019: 2-3). These experiences of women migrants entail ‘motivation for migration’, ‘social networks’, the ‘danger of sexual abuse and violence’, and ‘negotiation of gender ideologies’ (2019: vi).
