Hermeneutics, accreting receptions, hypermedia: A tool for reference versus a tool for instruction

We provide a select overview of tools supporting traditional Jewish learning. Then we go on to discuss our own HyperJoseph/HyperIsaac project in instructional hypermedia. Its application is to teaching, teacher training, and self-instruction in given Bible passages. The treatment of two narratives has been developed thus far. The tool enables an analysis of the text in several respects: linguistic, narratological, etc. Moreover, the Scriptures' focality throughout the cultural history makes this domain of application particularly challenging, in that there is a requirement for the tool to encompass the accretion of receptions in the cultural repertoire, i.e., several layers of textual traditions—either hermeneutic (i.e., interpretive), or appropriations—related to the given core passage, thus including "secondary" texts (i.e., such that are responding or derivative) from as disparate realms as Roman-age and later homiletics, Medieval and later commentaries or supercommentaries, literary appropriations, references to the arts and modern scholarship, etc. in particular, the Midrash (homiletic expansions) is adept at narrative gap filling, so the narratives mushroom at the interstices where the primary text is silent. The genealogy of the project is rooted in Weiss' index of novelist Agnon's writings, which was eventually upgraded into a hypertextual tool, including Agnon's full-text and ancillary materials. Those early tools being intended primarily for reference and research-support in literary studies, the Agnon hypertext system was initially emulated in the conception of HyperJoseph, which is applied to the Joseph story from Genesis. Then, the transition from a tool for reference to an instructional tool required a thorough reconception in an educational perspective, which led to HyperIsaac, on the sacrifice of Isaac, and to a redesign and upgrade of HyperJoseph as patterned after HyperIsaac.

Spaces of observation and obscurity: cinematic prisons of light and dark

In The Eye of Power, Foucault delineated the key concerns surrounding hospital architecture in the latter half of the eighteenth century as being the ‘visibility of bodies, individuals and things'. As such, the ‘new form of hospital' that came to be developed ‘was at once the effect and support of a new type of gaze'. This was a gaze that was not simply concerned with ways of minimising overcrowding or cross-contamination. Rather, this was a surveillance intended to produce knowledge about the pathological bodies contained within the hospital walls. This would then allow for their appropriate classification. Foucault went on to describe how these principles came to be applied to the architecture of prisons. This was exemplified for him in the distinct shape of Bentham's panopticon. This circular design, which has subsequently become an often misused synonym for a contemporary culture of surveillance, was premised on a binary of the seen and the not-seen. An individual observer could stand at the central point of the circle and observe the cells (and their occupants) on the perimeter whilst themselves remaining unseen. The panopticon in its purest form was never constructed, yet it conveys the significance of the production of knowledge through observation that became central to institutional design at this time and modern thought more broadly. What is curious though is that whilst the aim of those late eighteenth century buildings was to produce wellventilated spaces suffused with light, this provoked an interest in its opposite. The gothic movement in literature that was developing in parallel conversely took a ‘fantasy world of stone walls, darkness, hideouts and dungeons…' as its landscape (Vidler, 1992: 162). Curiously, despite these modern developments in prison design, the façade took on these characteristics. The gothic imagination came to describe that unseen world that lay behind the outer wall. This is what Evans refers to as an architectural ‘hoax'. The façade was taken to represent the world within the prison walls and it was the façade that came to inform the popular imagination about what occurred behind it. The rational, modern principles ordering the prison became conflated with the meanings projected by and onto the façade. This confusion of meanings have then been repeated and reenforced in the subsequent representations of the prison. This is of paramount importance since it is the cinematic and televisual representation of the prison, as I argue here and elsewhere, that maintain this erroneous set of meanings, this ‘hoax'.