I remember reading this review. I think its funny that you’re friends with both of them.

This is called, as my grandmother used to say, “making lemonade out of lemons.”

I think it’s delightful. Baker’s job is to sell books. Their advertisement is accurate, in that they included the strategically-placed ellipses. Anyone wanting to look up the full review is welcome to do so.

I disagree with Lenzi’s evaluation, too. While there are perhaps some few eyebrow-raising moments in the book (I remember my eyebrows so raising a time or two, though not the precise reason), overall it is characterized by a consistently detailed knowledge of trends of study in the various literatures covered, and very carefully expressed to reflect that knowledge. They’re rather simple things, like buzz-words, I suppose, that show someone has done more than the typical superficial skimming. Offhanded, I can immediately recall that I was entirely impressed that Walton used “instruction literature” to refer to those Egyptian writings more often described as “wisdom literature.” This was so impressive because that is the label that the Egyptians themselve gave to the genre, and one that is much more illustrative of its purpose. While the label “wisdom literature” is rather nebulous, connoting the inculcation of a kind of intellectual quality, “instruction literature” aptly describes that these works focus on action: speech, behaviour, social dealing and so on. It’s that level of detail and attention that Walton paid to his studies and writings that Lenzi entirely missed, or at least didn’t comment upon. Perhaps he didn’t notice them.

In any case, to recommend against this book for a library was crass and stupid.

Alan’s recommendation against library purchase of the book needs to be seen in light of the fact that Alan had in view libraries of smaller-sized non-parochial schools that had limited budgets for religious acquisitions. This might not have come through in the review.

Very interesting. I’m not sure what we at Logos do in this regard, because virtually all our products are prepubbed (made public on the web for marketing and large discount) BEFORE they are reviewed or even finished. I haven’t read the book yet, either, though I am guessing, given my own areas of concentration in ANE studies, that I will feel a bit like Lenzi in a couple places. That said, I think it’s patently ridiculous to say that a library shouldn’t purchase such a book. Isn’t that what libraries are–a place where books of all persuasions are made available to readers? Maybe we should just burn the ones we don’t like….

And this is why we have politicians constantly telling us things like “I was for it, before I was against it” et. al.
The reality is, ellipses should be used to shorten, never to change the meaning- and soundbites, out of context are like live hand grenades.
I’m currently running for office- I want to do an audio recording of the editorial board interview of the candidates- not just to have a way to make sure I’m not quoted out of context- but, to showcase how stupid the questions can be. While the paper is making a tape for themselves- one of the other candidates is opposed to a tape, because we could “manipulate the answers” by cutting soundbites. Yes, isn’t it better just to post the whole thing- and let people decide?
The fact is- the whole review is out there. Cutting parts just makes the publisher look disingenuous (and of course, thanks to Charles, they’ve already been caught). This kind of slimy behavior will only have negative effect on sales.
It would have been better to refute the bad review, or acknowledge it and provide other links to positive reviews.

The following is from Alan Lenzi (the site wouldn’t let him upload his comment for some reason):

I appreciate the point of defense Charles offers on my behalf, but there is no way anyone reading the review could divine what I meant or what my particular angle on library recommendation is. More clarity may have been in order. But, the review is published, and I can’t change it even if I were so inclined.

Charles and I actually first connected due to this review. He gave me a hard time about recommending against library purchase. If anyone’s interested, here are some excerpts from my reply to him:

A research library may want to purchase it, fair enough. But I am writing from the perspective of a new faculty member at a smaller university, where the library is for students and librarians have been purchasing all kinds of stuff in Bible without any kind of critical guidance. Our library is burdened with too much theological stuff that passes as academic, biblical scholarship. That’s a problem for me when it comes time to help students find good research materials.

Walton’s book is student-oriented and so it would be perfect for my university, IF . . . IF it weren’t so methodologically flawed. But it’s not just the method of the book. Walton adopts what he believes is a mediating position throughout the book, a position that he says bridges between critical and confessional viewpoints. But it seems to me that this is a smoke screen for pushing his theological agenda (perhaps unconsciously constructed). This kind of thing is hard for undergrads to see through. So, having it in my student-oriented library would only create problems, in my opinion. I’m not advocating censorship of ideas. Walton and Baker can publish whatever they like. Other reviewers, librarians, and readers are free to differ from my assessment. I think, e.g., Victor Matthews [still not verified] has already reviewed the book more positively. But, at a time when library budgets at most schools are tight, I think discretion is advisable. I mean this when I say it: it is unfortunate that Walton’s book cannot be recommended; he missed a great opportunity to provide the field with a very much needed book.

The confessional / critical divide, as Walton has shown, is real. I side with critical scholarship; Walton doesn’t. Just as my colleagues in physics would shun creation science books, I tend to steer our librarians away from theological biblical scholarship.

Walton’s book is not a train wreck. As a PhD candidate in a comparative Hebrew Bible / ANE program, especially if you still have a conservative bent, you should probably read the book. But, if I hear you say at an SBL presentation something like “Mesopotamian ritual instructions were based on trial and error experience but the Bible’s is based on divine revelation” (which is a paraphrase of Walton) plan on hearing a hard-hitting question from me. I think that statement is absolute nonsense and is only tolerated (sometimes!) because there are so many believers working in the field of biblical studies.

Walton does make several interesting points, as I affirm in the review. I like his interpretation of Jer 31 and the writing on the heart. And the fact that someone like Peter Machinist was willing to put his name on the back cover attests to the fact that other scholars have found something of value in the book, too. But, I stand by my judgment: libraries would not be wrong to pass on this volume. Scholars in the field may want to read it, but it isn’t a “must-have” for most libraries. Maybe I should have nuanced more.

* * * * * * *

As for Kevin’s response: I think you need to cool the emotions, Kevin. I think I gave a fair if negative review. I complimented Walton in several places (because he deserves it) and noted several things of interest in the book (alongside problems). If you want to see some really hard-hitting reviews, go look at Bryn Mawr Classical Review. Your point about “instruction” versus “wisdom literature” is a good illustration of Walton’s knowledge and care as a scholar, but it is a secondary or, better, tertiary point hardly worthy of mention in a review. You seem to imply something about my competence because I didn’t mention it. I don’t think that is logical at all. If you re-read the review, you’ll see that I praise Walton’s erudition on a more general level. Failure to mention a detail that struck you as interesting is hardly a reason to raise a question about my general assessment.

And since you mentioned it, there is no virtue in using an indigenous label for analytical purposes. That’s comparative method 101. We should take note of indigenous categories and genre labels, etc., but we are not constrained to adopt them when it comes time to do comparative work. “Wisdom literature” is a useful scholarly construct.

And Mike: “I think it’s patently ridiculous to say that a library shouldn’t purchase such a book. Isn’t that what libraries are–a place where books of all persuasions are made available to readers? Maybe we should just burn the ones we don’t like….”

Libraries need guidance about what to purchase because they don’t know the fields like the scholars working in them do. That’s one of the reasons WE write the reviews. Different libraries have different purposes. University libraries are different from seminary or Bible college libraries. Don’t be so hasty to fuel up the fire. Utilizing discernment about what to recommend putting in a university library is not the same as bigotry and censorship.

To be fair to Alan, yes, had I known that his was a recommendation for schools with limited budgets, I’d have to agree. But, likewise, that’s not what the review says. Recommending against library purchase is the kiss of death for any such book. Try harder to get them to change it.

And, no, I wasn’t insinuating anything about anyone’s abilities. As I recall, these notes of Walton’s familiarity with primary and secondary literature were, though widespread, subtle and thus easily missed. The “instruction” was one example of many, the one that came readily to mind, as it’s been many months since I read Walton’s book.

No, “Wisdom literature” is not as good a descriptor; it’s old-fashioned and doesn’t take into account the intent and reception of the ancient work. This is one of the rare cases where the ancient genre label is actually more descriptive and needs to be preferred!

I simply disagree with Alan on this book and don’t find its faults to be as prominent or distracting as to warrant warning new students off it. In fact, I’d rather recommend it to students who want a more contextualized reading. It’s a good introduction to that approach. And if they’re more conservative, why not start with a gentler route to introduce them to critical scholarship, which this book is certainly a fine example of?

Sort of a tangent:

Can anyone name a library that has an unlimited budget? ALL libraries must buy selectively (space, of course, is another important consideration, at least for now). I’ve taught at several institutions including Washington University in St. Louis and University of Missouri, which is the flagship of the MO state university system. Budget was (still is, I imagine) a very real concern. At Mizzou, the librarians were always telling me how woefully funded they were (are). Apparently, donors like to put their names on buildings or computer hubs more than the front flap of books.

Also, Jim Eisenbraun told me years ago that a publisher used to be able to count on 50 libraries to buy everything a publisher put out. That is no longer true.

Even research libraries have to select.

Back on topic:

It seems that Walton can’t win. Some have said his book is not theological enough!

Funny! It’s interesting how he’s managed to hit that fuzzy fence line.

For several years (undergrad plus a couple more) I worked in the Acquisition department for the Library system at UC Berkeley, in the unit which handled the book budgets and doled out the money to the librarians year by year. Prices (especially of serial subscriptions) continued to rise, with the budget locked in place for nearly the entire time I was there. Eventually cuts were made mostly in different serials, or online subscriptions were negotiated by the University of California (not the Berkeley campus itself) so that costs were shared between campuses. Monographic budgets were still able at the time to accomplish alot more due to academic pricing in approval plans (publishers send a selection of books tailored according to particular agreements, and those few unwanted were returned). We also had an effective donations office, which has gotten even more effective since my time, soliciting donations and endowments. As a research library, yes, it’s selective, of course, and Berkeley’s got quite a bigger pot, I’m sure, than a community college or small seminary. But in this entirely, indeed vehemently secular school, Walton’s book has in fact been purchased and is currently checked out until March, as well (and not by me: I buy my books), which would mean it’s someone with faculty priveleges who’s got it.

Even at a pretty broke little college, I can’t imagine anyone putting up a fuss over a measly twenty bucks or so for Walton’s book, though. The good in it certainly outweighs the bad, particularly the lucid overviews of comparative literature. That needs to be encouraged. And as it apparently appeals to quite a range of audiences (however they may debate about it going too far or not far enough in whatever direction), it’s precisely the kind of book that deserves to be particularly in a small library.

Librarians should be free to purchase books based on the broad recommendations of a number of scholars in a given field, not just one who doesn’t like a book, even if that person is on the faculty of their employing institution. But that’s in a perfect world. In my own experience in two semitics programs, I’ve seen books written by “confessional” scholars in the stacks before (e.g., R.K. Harrison’s massive Intro to the OT). The idea that grad students need to be “protected” from “confessional” scholars seems a bit paternalistic to me. It would be different if a work were just demonstrably awful. The “confessional” issue is really about presuppositions (which we all have, even N.P. Lemche, though he tried to deny it in a humorous exchange some time ago on the SBL site as I recall), and how data are processed given one’s presuppositions. Complete objectivity is a myth. I’d vote against a book if it was terribly flawed in terms of data, but I see no problem reading widely when it comes to the presuppositional spectrum of how data are processed.

I agree with you, Mike, in principle. But Walton’s book as I see it is not aimed at grad students but undergrads. Also, the whole presupposition thing is really tired. No one’s denying having presuppositions. But I find that people invoke it in order to level the playing field and say that everyone’s ideas are on an equal footing. But, not all presuppositions are equally useful in terms of scholarly engagement, etc. What is really at stake is the nature of biblical scholarship and the basis of human inquiry. I assume that the basis is human autonomy and feel no need to answer to the star deity in the Bible anymore than I feel a need to answer to Marduk when I study the Enuma Elish or Allah when I read the Quran.

BTW, I had a long post that I wrote last night that sort of touched on this. Apparently it didn’t go through. I’ll try again.

You know, here’s an example of reading widely and the issue of presuppositions. I read Walton’s book and you can tell he is wearing his theology just under the surface of the text. I read Peter Dubovský’s book, Hezekiah and the Assyrian Spies, and you never get the sense that D. is a priest trying to defend the Bible. He is a priest, but his goal in the book is to contribute to biblical scholarship not the church. People in the church may appropriate his work, but the book is primarily a work of scholarship. Walton is a scholar, no doubts there, but his book is not a contribution to the general academic community, despite what he tries. See my next post, if it goes through.

Short posts go through, long posts do not. So, I apologize, but I am going to break my comments into smaller posts. The following series is from last night and has not been changed in light of Mike’s comments:

So you know very well how it all works, Kevin. By the way, I’m not surprised that Berkeley bought the book. They buy more in a day than my library buys in a month, I imagine.

RE: Walton as an example of critical scholarship: One of the points I was trying to make (subtly) in my review was that Walton missed an opportunity to serve the students in the academic field in which he labors. By the end of the book it was clear that he did not intend to serve THE FIELD, but the CHURCH. I realize there is a massive overlap here and that’s part of the confusion and the problem–a growing one in the SBL that needs serious attention. In my opinion, despite his obvious gifts with regard to critical faculties (i.e., reason, intelligence, etc.) Walton is not a critical scholar. He certainly doesn’t identify himself as one in the book. He is doing his research to uphold and edify those who believe–there is an apologetic strand that runs throughout the whole book (even though he attempts to disguise it a little, which really bothered me).

This is for Alan Lenzi, the site still isn’t accepting long posts–I’ll work on fixing it:

There’s nothing wrong with writing for believers as a believer. But, we shouldn’t call that critical scholarship. (Here’s an analogy: Would you call a study done by a scientist on the tobacco company payroll a truly critical observer of the effects of tobacco on humans?) Or, we shouldn’t try to pass it off as representing a mediating position between critical and confessional scholarship. I really don’t think there is a middle ground here. Critical scholarship treats the Bible as another text from the ancient world, even if it occupies the central focus of one’s scholarly work and even if one recognizes its distinctive features (what doesn’t show distinctiveness to some degree?). Critical scholars don’t worry (or shouldn’t worry) about what their university president is going to say about their ideas. When confessional OR middle-road scholars find a problem with the Bible, according to Walton, they send that problem to apologetics (address your OT/HB questions to Kenneth Kitchen) for resolution (i.e., to figure out how to make it fit in the theological network of ideas) because there can’t really be problems. (That’s a problem for critical scholars.)
In any case, scholars (NOTE: I’m calling Walton a scholar; that’s not the question here) like Walton are in a tight spot, in my opinion. And I bet if you talk to them, they’ll agree. There is an obvious pull to read the Bible as fully ensconced in the ANE and to apply the same tools to it as one would any other text (i.e., there’s a pull to be critical). But very important theological issues (personally and communally) require the Bible to maintain its uniqueness, not just distinctiveness (i.e., there’s a pull to be confessional). I know this because I experienced the antagonism for many years.
So if Walton is not a critical scholar, why did I hold him to such standards? Because I was reviewing him in a professional scholarly society’s publication that in my opinion is rightly conceived in terms of critical scholarship. If I were writing for JETS or WTJ, things would be different; there’d be a different standard and expectation.
Now what about that fuzzy fence line that you mention, Kevin? I’d say the fence Walton walks in his book is not really between critical and confessional scholarship at all. Rather, he is walking between die hard Fundamentalists (what he calls confessionalists) and Evangelicals (his middle road position). (I don’t mention this explicitly in the review.) I’d say both of these are on the confessional side of the isle. Walton is trying to call the Fundamentalists to a saner historical position. But, some Evangelicals, like Pete Enns who says Walton isn’t theological enough, are asking the tough questions that make the Fundamentalists nervous–rightly so, in my opinion. So Walton’s book, at base, is really about a parochial debate among Christians. (Something I didn’t bring out that much in the review because I assumed most wouldn’t be all that interested.) There’s a lot of interesting stuff to see along the course of the book that makes it worth looking at if you’re a scholar, but the parochial debate is really central, I think, to the book. And as the book is primarily geared toward students, I’d say it is not really the kind of thing the future scholars (students) in the FIELD need. But, as I say in the review, given its theological and confessional orientation, it is most appropriate for Bible colleges and conservative seminaries where such issues are important. The future scholars of our field, even if arising eventually from a Bible college or conservative seminary like me, need someone to give them a historical reading of the Bible in the ANE that doesn’t ideologically privilege the Bible. Walton missed this opportunity; and I am sad that such is the case. As one who believes biblical studies is rightly conceived in terms of the humanities rather than the theological faculty, I feel good about teaching and guiding students to critical historical scholarship on the Bible and steering them clear of matters concerned with theological dispute.
I know. I’ve touched off a huge debate and people can rant about how I am just as “faith-based” as believers, etc. (and how narrow I conceive the SBL or how narrow-minded I am supposedly being about biblical studies and how biblical studies depends on believers, etc.) I know this kind of thing all too well and don’t care to debate it here. I’m not saying critical scholars don’t have presuppositions. They do; but, they’re generally the same ones that govern other academic fields in the university. If Bible scholars would look around a little they’d see just how weird our field really is.

Thanks for the detail, Alan. You really should have put much more of that into the review, as it’s certainly interesting, and really does provide crucial context for your perspective in the review. I seriously doubt that many are going to pick up on that whole aspect. It’s not apparent at all in a reading of the book. I think your “insider” information, knowing Walton’s situation, has given you an edge in that respect!

To me, the confessional aspect of Walton’s book was a minor thing. In my eventual second reading, that’ll likely leap out quite a bit more clearly just because of what you’ve written above. But, what I was most impressed by (perhaps because I had recently read Hallo’s third volume of the Scripture in Context books, in which he provides a position paper for the contextual method that he advocates) is that Walton appears to be the first popular presentation of that contextual method that I’m aware of. He really does do an excellent job in applying Hallo’s method, and for that, I think his (minor) faults can be forgiven. In addition, his careful attention to detail is an important thing to inculcate in students as well, along with his lucid writing style.

In any case, when I read it, I was thinking it to be addressed much more to laypeople than academics. There’s nothing addressing the book to students in the text itself that I see, and Chavalas’ blurb on the back recommends it precisely to “beginning students, seminarians, and the interested public.” For those crowds, it’s fine. I myself am a real fan of Hallo’s method, so I’ll continue to cheerlead for its application, as in this volume, however faulty a presentation of it that others (like yourself) may find it to be. The method deserves wider implementation. I think there certainly is value in Walton’s book for perceptive students who can approach it that way, to learn a proper application of the method. It certainly does deserve attention in that respect.

[...] the subject of book reviews, Charles Halton found a really cunning use of ellipses which created a very positive blurb out of very negative review! Make those lemons into lemonade! [...]

[...] little bit ago I pointed out a negative review that the Baker Publishing Group spun into a positive one for use in [...]

[...] that shows that all of our efforts do sometimes make a difference. Charles Halton at Awilum wrote a post last month pointing out that Baker Publishing had taken a negative review of a book and turned it [...]