For example, it is already well-known that the book of Judith as found in the LXX, makes good use of mimesis. John Van Seters (2000:395–409) reminds us of the five assumptions of literary imitation or mimesis, as originally identified by Russell (1980:16):

Certainly, when analysing, inter alia, the performative aspects of LXX Judith, apart from its mimetic qualities, one is always aware of its glaring and obvious intertextuality. Here, both literary imitation and intertextuality operate on many levels.

Based on our reading of the Greek text, we are inclined to believe that this attribute plays an important role as regards gaining informed insights into the cultural values and worldview of the reader or listening audience. On this issue, Venter (2011) confirms that:

Of course, Judith’s intertextuality has been the subject of numerous investigations. As confirmed by Nickelsburg (2005):

At a slight stretch, Judith could also be compared with the woman from Tekoa (2 Sm 14:2–19) and even Susanna (Dn 13). Gert J. Steyn (with reference to Coleman 1932:58–60) proffers that not only the personality of Queen Esther (Es 1–10) but also the description of Jerusalem as the virgin daughter of Zion, most likely contributed to the final character of Judith (cf. Steyn 2008:156–181).

Perhaps the greatest similarity is to be found with Jael – so much so, that one mid-twentieth century scholar even trustingly believed them to be one and the same historical individual (cf. Bruns 1954:12–14). Certainly, from both a literary and dramatic perspective the account of Jael and Sisera’s relationship in Judges 4:18–21 and 5:24–27 is remarkably similar to that given for Judith and Holofernes in Judith 12 and 13. Again, Pseudo-Philo’s account of Jael and Sisera confirms that the Jewish deity’s brand of justice demands that the transgressions of wicked individuals are revenged for in kind (Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum, xxi:1–9). The three offences of Sisera are answered by three analogous (albeit ironic) punishments (Table 1).

Ironically, it is the women, to whom Sisera poses the greatest threat, and it is a single woman who will see to his downfall. Exactly like Sisera, Holofernes suffers a retributive as well as ironic fate for his wrongdoings.

By its intrinsic intertextual and even extratextual references plus heightened mimesis, LXX Judith has been successfully employed as a performance text over the past two millennia. LXX Judith not only makes use of similar ironies contained in other traditional texts (intertextuality) it also contains an element of playful humour. In this context, Esler (2002) even describes Judith as being ‘ludic’ in quality (pp. 117, 121). And, of course, LXX Judith, like other examples of early Jewish literature, delights in portraying its enemies as being foolish and acting in compromising ways (cf. Jdt 13:1).

The fabula of LXX Judith and its later derivatives have served as powerful propaganda on many occasions during the past 1500 years, including:

Scene 1 commences with the close of the day. Evening comes ὡς δὲ ὀψία ἐγένετο (dramatic visually) and there is a great emphasis at this juncture that all actions are designed to ensure that ultimately, the chief antagonist and protagonist of the tale will be left alone within the tent (Jdt 13:1).

Holofernes’ slaves leave quickly (ἐσπούδασαν) and Holofernes’ sidekick, Bagoas physically closes up the tent from the outside (καὶ Βαγώας συνέκλεισε τὴν σκηνὴν ἔξωθεν) (Jdt 13:1). The text informs the reader that Judith had previously sent her servant outside to wait and keep watch (Jdt 13:3). Consequently, the audience are now very aware that Judith is finally, quite alone with her nemesis and archenemy, Holofernes, within the constricted space of the tent (ὑπελείφθη δὲ ᾿Ιουδὶθ μόνη ἐν τῇ σκηνῇ) (Jdt 13:2).

Notice that the term ‘σκηνῇ’ bolsters the association of the tent interior with a Greek stage setting. The text of reiterates the important fact that Judith is alone with Holofernes:

It is noteworthy that the tent has now become a bedroom. The audience now become voyeurs of a private and restricted boudoir scene (Jdt 13:4). In this regard also see Wills (2019:340).

Most importantly, by her very stance, Judith is depicted as being in command of her senses while Holofernes lies on the bed, helpless, unprotected and in a drunken stupor (καὶ ᾿Ολοφέρνης προπεπτωκὼς ἐπὶ τὴν κλίνην αὐτοῦ· ἦν γὰρ περικεχυμένος αὐτῷ ὁ οἶνος). Judith is standing upright and obviously in control – symbolic of her righteousness. Holofernes is lying prone, out of control – symbolic of his wickedness. Here is a conceptual metaphor that, taken from the perspective of Cognitive Linguistics (where moral questions may be viewed from the perspective of one’s bodily experience with gravity), strongly suggests that Judith is occupying the moral high ground (upright) while Holofernes (prone) is in lower domain signifying moral decay (Jdt 13:2, 4 and 6) (cf., Johnson 1987: passim; Nathan 2007:627).

From the audience or reader’s perspective, the archenemy of the Jews is made to look derisible. There is both an element of humour and irony here. After all, was not this the same man who only shortly before in Judith 12:12, boasted that he would sleep with Judith? It must be assumed that the audience would have known the important details of the preceding chapters in LXX Judith. Indeed, the humour of this book relies heavily on the audience’s great familiarity with the fabula. They would recall that earlier Holofernes admitted that he would appear foolish if he let this golden opportunity slip through his fingers:

Holofernes, the great Assyrian general, the macho man sent by king Nebuchadnezzar to destroy the Jewish nation lies immobile on his bed ̶ quite unable to engage in sexual relations with Judith. The graphic description of the ironic, reversal of roles, alludes to physical comedy.

It is also significant at this stage that Judith, empowered by her long prayer in Judith 9:1–14, has always been depicted (up to this point) as supremely confident in her actions (because of the fact that she is righteous in the eyes of her deity and is thus automatically empowered by her godliness) (cf. Allen 2016:17–44). Yet, in the midst of her highly successful operations, she suddenly feels the need to both inform her deity of her uprightness as well as confirm her intentions:

Indeed, Judith alerts her deity to the fact that she is about to fulfil her self-directed, albeit holy, mission. Here, the Jewish deity is requested to observe what she is about to do with her virtuous hands. Then, just as she is about to strike off the head of Holofernes, she quite uncharacteristically makes a plea for divine strength (Jdt 13:7b). However, this is an extremely short, to-the-point entreaty and not some long-winded exaltation as one finds:

The Greek ‘κραταίωσόν’ is written in the aorist imperative tense, which denotes an immediate action. This is a dramatic interlude where the reader may well ask ‘Is Judith going to fail after all’? ‘Why only now does she seem so unsure of herself’? Simultaneously, the audience are also looking at her actions. They are what is called ‘a compassionate audience’. They would also want Judith to succeed² and indisputably, they do not have to wait long to see Judith accomplish her self-appointed task.

The text makes it clear that Judith (albeit being a woman) strikes off the head of Holofernes solely with her own strength. The following text emphasises this fact by requiring her to make two attempts to separate Holofernes’ head from his body:

The aorist indicatives ‘ἐπάταξεν’ and ‘ἀφεῖλε’ denote simple actions in the past and seem to emphasise the brevity of the time spent in completing them. However, this does not take away the fact that two blows were needed to complete the action. Had Judith cut off his head with but one chop of the sword, the reader would have been far less impressed by her actions. Here the performative qualities come to the fore. It is clear, that although she is acting in a godly way because of her righteousness and rigid observance of halakhah, she is solely reliant on her own physical strength to carry out her deity’s will.

Next (Jdt 13:9a), Judith rolls the headless body off the bed (καὶ ἀπεκύλισε τὸ σῶμα αὐτοῦ ἀπὸ τῆς στρωμνῆς) – possibly to amplify the fact that she now has absolute power over Holofernes.

She removes the canopy and hands over the head to her servant (Jdt 13:9b). Note, it is the servant who places the head into the wallet and not Judith. This possibly signifies that by Judith’s actions, the other members of her community are also empowered. Here the audience would pick up on the point that righteous behaviour empowers the entire community – which they represent.

At this juncture there is a need for a change of scenery – a short intermission between scenes, as it were. Here, Judith and her servant are quickly described as leaving the enemy camp, walking around a valley, ascending a hill and arriving at the city gates of Bethulia. All of this is performed furtively, secretly, under cover of darkness. The reader is aware, through the descriptive text that the scene has changed and something new will soon replace it:

This interlude is covered by the aorist participle διελθοῦσαι ‘having passed through’. This denotes a preceding action, which is followed by the main verb ἤλθοσαν ‘they came to’. The brevity of the main actions stands out. The idea communicated here is that not much time was wasted in the progression from Scene 1 to Scene 2.

Scene 2 is set in the nighttime. Judith and her servant are alone before the city gates. Judith 13:11a reveals that Judith cries out from afar ‘μακρόθεν’. We add here ‘so that everyone can hear’ because that is surely what ‘μακρόθεν’ from afar is trying to achieve. Next in Judith 13:11b, we take note of the words ‘open, open the gate immediately!’ (ἀνοίξατε ἀνοίξατε δὴ τὴν πύλην). Be aware of the emphatic article ‘δὴ’ and the repetition of the aorist imperative ‘ἀνοίξατε’, which denotes an immediate action. Judith not only requests the guards to open the gate but also manages to give an oral précis and a loud reaffirmation of what has just occurred:

Note the inclusion:

A ἡμῶν

B ὁ Θεὸς

B ὁ Θεὸς

A ἡμῶν

The ordering of these words in this sequence would make it easy to remember in an oral environment. However, there is yet more to consider here: The repetition of the genitive ἡμῶν ‘our’ shows an intimate relationship between the two parties. The audience has an identity; they belong to their deity.

On hearing Judith’s raised voice, the people of Bethulia hurry towards the gate bringing the elders with them. The narrative makes it clear that a complete cross-section of the Jewish community gathers before Judith:

It is possible to conceive at this point of the performance (regardless of whether it is delivered via text or orality) that the audience would feel as though they were part of the crowd scene. In short, here is an opportunity for audience participation, support and acceptance, as regards the particular theology that is being portrayed.

The gate is opened, and a fire is lit. The fire would be important for illuminating the happy occasion clearly displaying Judith, her servant, the guards, the elders, and the townsfolk all eager to hear what Judith has to say (Jdt 13:13). It is also assumed that if the text of LXX Judith was dependent on an oral precursor, the tale would have often been performed in the evening with a fire burning. This particular scene would obviously lend itself to such a treatment.

For a second time, Judith gives a precise and a loud verbal affirmation of what she has achieved with her deity’s assistance:

It is significant that the cycle of aorist imperatives is broken here as the action is moved away from individual and smaller group of characters (Judith, Yahweh, guards) to the crowd. The present imperative now surfaces with the words: ‘praise God, praise, praise God’ (αἰνεῖτε τὸν θεόν αἰνεῖτε αἰνεῖτε τὸν θεόν). So smaller actions by individuals are performed with speed; however, a slower more lasting response is expected from the crowd. This is the function of the present imperative. The question now is why should the crowd constantly praise their deity? The answer to this question is found in Judith 13:15–16.

Judith pulls the head of Holofernes out of the wallet and for a third time repeats her message of divine success:

The visual impact that the exhibition of the prop (i.e. Holofernes’s head), should have on the audience stands out. For effect there is a repetition of the word ‘ἰδοὺ’. This speech (Jdt 13:15–16), is in effect a summary of the first half of Chapter 13:1–10. It depicts an oral delivery of what has just occurred.

For their part, the crowd then repeats the essence of the climax to the tale while praising their deity. It is also significant that the crowd seems to play the same role as a Greek chorus in this act:

Scene 1 is centred on the tent of Holofernes (Jdt 13:1–10). From the perspective of the reader, the tent may be imagined as a theatrical stage or skene. The written description indicates a structure with a back wall and side walls. There is no front wall as the audience is allowed to ‘secretly’ witness what transpires within the tent. Thus, the audience is the fourth wall.

The notion of the fourth wall was made famous by the philosopher and critic Denis Diderot (1713–1784) (Stevenson 1995:4–5). The fourth wall extends the idea of an imaginary boundary between any fictional work and its audience. Although most modern drama usually shies away from acknowledging the audience (with the possible exception of holding for laughs), the fourth wall was frequently broken in Elizabethan and Restoration drama. Actors in Shakespeare’s day would run through the audience (often chasing other actors onto the stage), make various asides and jokes to the audience personally and usually at the expense of the other actors on stage (cf. Hattaway 1982:18, 146, 148, 150, 157, 173; and March 2014:72–83).

With this concept in mind, LXX Judith seems to anticipate the more modern concept of breaking the fourth wall. The text encourages the reader or hearer to become part of the action – this is, in itself, possible evidence of orality.

It is accepted that an appropriately written dramatic work, whether transmitted through reading or an oral presentation, by means of its performative qualities, has the potential to achieve immediacy. Here, the audience may become captivated with its own familiarity and memory of popular, communally shared narratives. On this issue, Weimann and Bruster (2008), with reference to Skura (1993:237 n 5), confirm that:

Here, the audience for an oral performance would no longer feel as if they were behind a fourth wall. Here we seem to have a suggestion of audience participation and their buy-in. Even though we only have a written version, the audience would still feel involved personally. For example, in Judith 13:13, it is possible for the audience to feel that they are also part of the Jewish crowd drawn to the voice of Judith. The implied audience becomes part of the scene and the imaginary fourth wall collapses. A complete cross section of the Jewish community (from lowly to great) is described as buying into the import of maintaining righteousness in their deity’s eyes and acknowledging his accomplishment by virtue of Judith’s righteous behaviour. Accordingly, they praise their deity repeatedly (13:17, 13:20). A correctly primed audience may well become embroiled with this powerful suggestion. Later, this motif is again revisited when a non-Jew (Achior) is portrayed as being so enthralled by the oral retelling of Judith’s feat that he faints, circumcises himself and converts to Judaism (cf. Jdt 14:5–10).

The overriding evidence that this text is based on an oral precursor becomes almost self-explanatory in Judith 13:11–20. Here is an actual description of a spokesperson addressing a group of people orally. Indeed, Judith 13:12–20 describes a person delivering an oral presentation much like a Greek bard. This should be viewed as significant as the written narrative describes a Jewish storyteller in action. Furthermore, it describes a storyteller recounting an action that is also part of the written narrative.

The text emphasises that, apart from the central characters, all events and actions are clearly dependent on the structure and layout of the scenes depicted plus primary accoutrements. Thus, in Scene 1, the audience is made very aware of the following items:

In sharp contradistinction, Scene 2 deals solely with events before the gates of Bethulia (Jdt 13:11–20). Here, again, apart from the guards, Judith, her servant, and a crowd of people, certain props are crucial for the success of the message:

This narrative enhances the drama of the various acts within a particular scene by exploiting certain of the bodily senses. Of particular importance are visual and audial cues but even the sense of smelling and feeling the fire is implied on occasion. When this tale is read as a story, obviously the audience hear what is being read. However, the text also implies the use of the senses by the characters in the narrative. The employment of the senses fills the audience with anticipation of what might happen. This is notwithstanding the fact that the Jewish audience most likely already know the outcome of the narrative. If so, they would have looked forward to the ironic and humourous episodes and knowingly shared in the laughter as they witnessed their enemies being ridiculed.

Obviously, humour assists greatly in keeping any story interesting. However, humour also has an important didactic function – especially in assisting to impart memorable cultural values to the youth. Indeed, assuming that an oral presentation would (on occasion) be made to a cross-section of the community, certain of the youth might only be hearing the tale for the first time. Here, the question of whether a narrative creates a culture or whether it is produced by a culture becomes paramount. Clearly, both points of view are true.

The narrative is replete with dramatic irony. Indeed, the entire book’s message is based on an ironic situation. Nebuchadnezzar considers himself to be a god and seeks to dominate the people who are in covenant with a superior deity. Even after he is warned of the futility of his attempts to oppress the Jews, he still seeks to dominate them and ultimately loses his army.

Holofernes – the agent of Nebuchadnezzar and antithesis of Judith – seeks to dominate and have sexual relations with Judith. Instead, he is totally emasculated by her. Indeed, his beheading may even be viewed as a symbolic castration. Holofernes’ head, which features in the climax of this book at 13:8, is also later employed as a dramatic prop. This fits in with what might actually occur should a storyteller or bard want to exemplify an aspect of a narrative (13:15). This repeated display of the head also serves as a powerful echo of the original climax. It is directly reminiscent to the beheading scene in 13:8.

The crowd scene in 13:12–20 suggests the role of a chorus. Plays of the ancient Greek theatre always included a chorus that offered a variety of background and summary information to help the audience follow the performance. A Jewish reader or listening audience, identifying with the crowd might well unconsciously affirm the message proclaimed by the crowd. Also, Uzziah confirms and amplifies the righteous status of Judith and corroborates that it was the Jewish deity that guided Judith to cut off the head of their enemy’s leader (Jdt 13:18).

The focus of the book of Judith seems to be to emphasise that the Jewish deity required his children to continually be observant and faithful to his Law. The message supports the concept that righteousness is the key to obtaining his protection.

By their very nature, oral narratives have to embody the dramatic. A storyteller will naturally make use of body language, mimetic gestures, pithy memorable sayings, formulaic sayings, mime and props. The written text clearly refers to these qualities.

Judith not only makes use of similar ironies contained in other traditional texts (intertextuality) it also contains an element of playful humour. We also witness an excellent example of traditional Jewish literature portraying its enemies as being foolish and acting in compromising ways.

Given the strong mimetic and dramatic qualities found in Judith, we are led to confirm the assumption that before LXX Judith became a fixed, written text, the basic fabula might well have been part of an oral tradition.

The purpose of the tale is confirmed. The narrative offers hope for oppressed people. Through a performative medium, they are encouraged to buy in to the notion that sanctification and accompanying divine empowerment occurs when something is set apart, albeit for the correct reasons.

Here the emphasis is on righteous action and not benign lip service to a higher authority. Thus, duly armed with righteous behaviour, and replete with the assurance of divine approval, even the profane may become sanctified. For example, the sword of Holofernes, as the symbol of ultimate profanity and blasphemy, is employed by the righteous Judith as an instrument of holiness when it beheads Holofernes – thus revealing the power of the Jewish deity through the hands of a righteous woman.

The employment of a female (Judith) is quite deliberate, emphasising that anyone (man, woman or child) has the ability to be righteous. Hence, because of the power of their deity, even the perceived physical impediment of having the body of a woman is overcome by righteous conduct. Here, it is suggested, that Judith’s beauty is also a reflection of her internal character. Accordingly, a righteous woman – and by extension the entire Jewish nation – is portrayed as having the divine assurance to overcome oppression, represented by the might of the Assyrian Empire.