Last week’s acquisition is one that has buoyed my spirits and lingered in my thoughts for days – a complete and well-preserved copy of a true incunabulum, printed in the dawn years of Hebrew typography: Sefer HaShorashim (“The Book of Roots”) by the eminent Rabbi David Kimhi, venerated through the centuries by scholars as the RaDaK. This particular exemplar issued forth from the press of Azriel ben Joseph Ashkenazi Gunzenhauser in Naples in the year 1490 – more than five centuries past, when Hebrew printing itself was still in its infancy.
The RaDaK (c. 1160-1235) was no mere commentator; he was the unrivaled luminary of Hebrew grammar in the medieval world, a paragon of lucidity, methodical rigor, and interpretive precision. Born in Provence after his family fled the Almohad persecutions in Iberia, Kimhi inherited a formidable scholarly lineage – both his father and his brother were esteemed grammarians whose subtle influence permeates his writings like a hidden but steady current.
Sefer HaShorashim originated as the second half of Kimhi’s magnum opus, the Michlol, but in time emerged as an autonomous lexicon of Hebrew and Aramaic, meticulously organized by triliteral roots set in bold type, each entry illuminated with concise definitions and corroborated by carefully selected biblical citations. Its clarity, accuracy, and comprehensiveness swiftly eclipsed earlier lexicographical works, establishing it as the indispensable reference for generations of scholars – both Jewish and Christian – who sought to unlock the linguistic treasures of the Tanach.
Prior to the typographic revolution, Kimhi’s lexicon circulated exclusively in manuscript form, painstakingly copied by scribes. But as the art of Hebrew printing took root in the final decades of the fifteenth century, Sefer HaShorashim received three incunabular editions – the earliest in Rome, followed by two in Naples. The present Naples edition is a triumph of early Hebrew typography: root words rendered in assertive block letters, accompanied by marginalia guiding the reader to their scriptural occurrences. This elegant layout not only facilitated study but also influenced the scholarly habits of such towering figures as Johannes Reuchlin in Germany and Elias Levita in Italy, whose pupils carried Kimhi’s methods forward into the humanist academies of Europe.
Kimhi’s steadfast focus on peshat – the plain, contextual meaning of Scripture – combined with his grammatical insights, held immense appeal for Christian Hebraists during the Renaissance and Reformation. His works were swiftly translated into Latin, disseminated widely, and directly informed seminal Bible translations, including the King James Version. The fervor for his writings in the fifteenth century is evidenced by the proliferation of printings during the incunabular period – no fewer than eleven distinct editions of his works emerged before the dawn of the sixteenth century.
The Gunzenhauser family, responsible for this edition, were among the trailblazers of Hebrew printing in Italy. Originating from Gunzenhausen in Germany, they established themselves in Naples and, between 1487 and 1492, issued a dozen Hebrew titles of remarkable craftsmanship. The editor of this edition, Samuel ben Meir Latif, undertook the exacting task of textual emendation and preparation, ensuring the work’s fidelity to Kimhi’s original.
Such a book transcends its material form. It is not merely ink impressed upon paper but a tangible bridge across centuries – a testament to the birth of printed Hebrew scholarship. To leaf through its thick, creamy, fifteenth-century pages and behold those bold black roots is to stand at the confluence of worlds: the quiet study chamber of the RaDaK in medieval Provence and the bustling print shop of Renaissance Naples, where the ancient Hebrew tongue was given enduring form in movable type.
