With Lukan
parables, for example, one begins with analyzing the
literary context of a parable in Luke’s narrative and the literary-rhetorical
elements of the parable itself—the specific manner in which a text attempts to
persuade its readers. This analysis is often called a “close reading” or an
analysis of the “inner texture” of the text. Similarly, a
careful and systematic “close reading” is also fundamental to an interpretation
of a painting, where all of the details of the painting (including the formal
elements of composition and design) must be analyzed carefully and
systematically.
A
future post will talk about the literary context of the Lukan parable, but
first I want to give one example of how textual and visual interpretations can
inform each other. Here is the NRSV translation of the text.
The land of a rich man produced
abundantly. 17And he thought to himself, “What should I do, for I
have no place to store my crops?” 18Then he said, “I will do this: I
will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my
grain and my goods. 19And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have
ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” 20But
God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you.
And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?”
Note how the words attributed to the rich man focus entirely
on himself. He utters a soliloquy that repeatedly uses the first person singular
in just three verses—”I” six times and “my” five times, in addition to speaking
to his “soul.” The man’s deliberations demonstrate his (fatal) error. He takes
no account of others, and, most importantly, takes no account of God. He
decides to build new storage facilities, not just for the bumper crop, but for
all his “goods” as well. These possessions, he thinks, will ensure his
well-being for “many years.” That decision earns him the title “fool” from God
(12:20; cf. Psalm 14:1)—in the only instance of God being a (direct) character
in a parable of Jesus.
Charles Hedrick thinks that the man’s numerous first-person
references are “quite natural in the context of a soliloquy.” I agree with Joel
Green, however, who argues that people who engage in such soliloquies are “consistently
portrayed negatively by Luke” (e.g., 2:35; 5:21-22; 6:8; 9:46-47). That fits
the literary context in Luke better.
Now
look at Rembrandt’s painting. I will attach a photo that I took of this
painting in the Gemäldegalerie (Berlin) in July 2010.
The room is dark, illuminated by a single candle. An elderly
man sits at a desk/table overloaded with books and papers, some written in what
appears to be Hebrew script. The man, a pince-nez perched on his nose,
thoughtfully examines a coin. The hand holding the coin—with fingers made
partially translucent by the candle’s light—blocks the viewer from seeing the
candle directly, but its glowing light illuminates the man, a small area of the
desk, and other elements in the darkened room.
All inessential elements are cloaked in shadows. On the desk
are a gold-weigher’s scale with a box of weights, as well as chaotic stacks of
books and papers, with a huge (account?) book open on the man’s right through
which large Xs have been marked through some of the entries.
The man’s face is brilliantly lit, and we see virtually
every detail of his aged, wrinkled face—including his reddened nose, right ear,
and eyelids, as well as the soft shadows produced by his glasses—as he gazes at
the coin in his hand. Other coins on the desk glimmer in the reflected glow of
the candle’s light, as do the epaulets on the man’s shoulder. The fancy ruff
around his neck also glows in the light, which then reflects even more light
onto the man’s face.
Who is this man, and what does this painting say to its
viewers? Is he the rich man of the parable, thinking only of himself and his
wealth?
Scott
Spencer, who served as editor for the Review
and Expositor volume in which my article on this parable appeared (some of
this post comes directly from that article), wrote me that he was blown away by
Rembrandt’s chiaroscuro technique (the interplay of light and shadow), and he noted that in this
painting the use of chiaroscuro seemed to function a bit like the soliloquy “technique”
in several of Luke’s parables. That is, the lighting spotlights the main
character. Scott also noted that in this painting the rich elderly man appears
to be smugly reflecting on this coin/fortune, and that the painting almost “begs”
for the accompanying soliloquy.
The psychological depth opened up by Rembrandt’s chiaroscuro
is seemingly bottomless. In addition, Rembrandt’s manipulation of light and
shadow, in this instance, along with the man’s seemingly introspective
detachment, also create a sense of mystery. That is, we get a strong sense of
something serious going on in the mind of these figures, but the precise nature
of their thoughts and feelings is, at best, only darkly implied.
That is the issue I also want to discuss in future posts:
The rays of light are reflected in various ways and sundry places in the
painting, just as parables are reflected in different ways in different
contexts and heard in numerous ways by various hearers. Rembrandt illuminates
some objects clearly, while other aspects remain murky or obscure, placed
deliberately in the shadows, creating uncertainties and provoking debates. In a
similar way, the parables of Jesus illuminate some things as clear as day;
other aspects become more clear as we learn more and more about the
first-century contexts in which Jesus created and his followers preserved,
transmitted, and transformed his words; some aspects of the parables will, by
design, be forever shrouded in mystery.
Deciding what elements of the parables and paintings belong
in each of those three categories is part of the fun of interpretation!
Great commentary; I think the rich fool may have had a drawing of his new, big barn(s), and probably only got one expensive estimate but did not care because he could afford it.
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