Judith Versus Goliath? Visualizing David as Archetype
by Andrea M. Sheaffer
Andrea M. Sheaffer is the director of admissions at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California, from which she holds a Ph.D. in biblical studies with an emphasis in art history.
Donatello’s bronze David is a life-size commemoration of the young shepherd boy’s triumph over the feared Philistine giant, Goliath. Usually dated between 1430-1440, Donatello’s statue of the boy who would be king depicts the narrative from I Sam. 17, portraying an adolescent David standing over the decapitated head of Goliath. Donatello’s choice of bronze—smooth and dark, but radiant—highlights David’s youth and beauty, characteristics emphasized numerous times in the biblical text (I Sam. 16:12; I Sam. 17:42). A subtle smile plays across David’s androgynous face as he holds his weapons of rock and sword. His accessories of hat and boots frame and underscore his nudity. David, relaxed, strikes a graceful, effeminate pose. The eye eventually notices David’s left hand which rests on his hip. From here, the sculptor skillfully carries our eye down David’s thigh to his slightly bent knee. David’s foot rests on Goliath’s face. His toes dig into the giant’s beard. The shepherd boy’s astounding victory over this foreign tyrant is depicted in a vertical arrangement; David literally comes out on top.
Andrea M. Sheaffer is the director of admissions at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California, from which she holds a Ph.D. in biblical studies with an emphasis in art history.
Donatello’s bronze David is a life-size commemoration of the young shepherd boy’s triumph over the feared Philistine giant, Goliath. Usually dated between 1430-1440, Donatello’s statue of the boy who would be king depicts the narrative from I Sam. 17, portraying an adolescent David standing over the decapitated head of Goliath. Donatello’s choice of bronze—smooth and dark, but radiant—highlights David’s youth and beauty, characteristics emphasized numerous times in the biblical text (I Sam. 16:12; I Sam. 17:42). A subtle smile plays across David’s androgynous face as he holds his weapons of rock and sword. His accessories of hat and boots frame and underscore his nudity. David, relaxed, strikes a graceful, effeminate pose. The eye eventually notices David’s left hand which rests on his hip. From here, the sculptor skillfully carries our eye down David’s thigh to his slightly bent knee. David’s foot rests on Goliath’s face. His toes dig into the giant’s beard. The shepherd boy’s astounding victory over this foreign tyrant is depicted in a vertical arrangement; David literally comes out on top.
Medici Riccardi Courtyard
2008
Florence
In Donatello’s mid-15th c. bronze statue, Judith and Holofernes, Judith, like the bronze David with Goliath, stands over and on Holofernes—her foot crushing the wrist of the mighty Assyrian army commander who once threatened to “crush” her people. Judith wields the scimitar powerfully. This sculpture dramatically captures the heroic act that forever immortalized Judith as Israel’s savior. In Donatello’s sculpture, Judith’s modesty is contrasted with Holofernes’ licentiousness; her veil and clothing cover her entire body, while Holofernes is nearly nude. The huge gash in Holofernes’ neck and unnaturally slumped head indicate that Judith is about to deliver the fatal blow that will end the reign of the tyrant who terrorized her people.
Donatello
David (with inset detail)
ca. 1430, bronze
Museo Nazionale del Bargello,
Florence
There is no textual basis for Judith standing over her defeated foe. Yet Donatello’s two sculptures expose parallels between the two characters. Both depict the triumph of underdogs—the shepherd boy and widow—who conquer seemingly insurmountable enemies.
Donatello
Judith and Holofernes
ca. 1460, bronze
Pallazo Vecchio,
Florence
What first drew my attention to these two sculptures was not their visual similarities, but a note about their original location. In 1992, art historian Christine Sperling published a 15th-century Florentine manuscript she had discovered in the Biblioteca Riccardiana in Florence. The manuscript, dated between 1466-1469, records that Donatello’s bronze David as well as his Judith and Holofernes were once paired together in the Medici Palace.1 The sculptures—two of the earliest free-standing Renaissance statues—were undocumented commissions, but with the discovery of the Florentine manuscript, we know that they stood in the palace together for roughly thirty years.2 David was in the center of the courtyard and Judith was in the garden. Each statue was raised on a high base for maximum visibility. From certain places within the courtyard, both would have been within the viewer’s sightline.3 Art historian Sarah Blake McHam has called these works the “sculptural centerpieces of the two most public spaces in the Medici Palace.”4
This article engages in a dialogue between several artistic depictions of David and Judith and their biblical narratives in order to illuminate the similarities between David’s battle with Goliath and Judith’s assassination of Holofernes. Though both have long been hailed as heroes, little attention has been paid to the numerous parallels in the texts. A visual study of selected David and Judith sculpture and painting from the Italian Renaissance and Baroque periods, complemented by an intertextual approach, reveals that Judith—in art and text—follows the archetype, or model, of David. Weaving through word and image, this paper endeavors to illuminate Judith the heroine as an interpretation of David the hero, demonstrating that for both ancient writers and Renaissance artists, a woman can be viewed to be as much a warrior and protector of Israel as its most legendary king.
The foursome of David, Goliath, Judith, and Holofernes appeared together again in Florence, on Lorenzo Ghiberti’s East Doors for the Baptistry. Completed in 1452, these massive, 16-foot high doors are considered one of the “crowning masterpieces of Renaissance art.” Michelangelo declared them the “Gates of Paradise.”5 Here, a small statuette of Judith, with sword raised and head in hand, stands opposite the relief of “David Killing Goliath.” In 15th-century Florence, we see that David and Judith were paired together in two of the most prominent political and religious structures. The biblical heroes stood as symbols of Florentine liberty at a time when Florence was fighting to uphold its autonomy. In 1402, Florence was the only Italian state that remained to fight the despotism of the Duke of Milan, whose ambition was to unite and control all of northern Italy. Florence would continue to fend off would-be conquerors and their assaults in 1414 and again in 1423.6 When Florence was “characterized by continuing threats of conquest by tyrants from outside the city,” David and Judith represented liberty: tyrant slayers and saviors of their people.7
This article engages in a dialogue between several artistic depictions of David and Judith and their biblical narratives in order to illuminate the similarities between David’s battle with Goliath and Judith’s assassination of Holofernes. Though both have long been hailed as heroes, little attention has been paid to the numerous parallels in the texts. A visual study of selected David and Judith sculpture and painting from the Italian Renaissance and Baroque periods, complemented by an intertextual approach, reveals that Judith—in art and text—follows the archetype, or model, of David. Weaving through word and image, this paper endeavors to illuminate Judith the heroine as an interpretation of David the hero, demonstrating that for both ancient writers and Renaissance artists, a woman can be viewed to be as much a warrior and protector of Israel as its most legendary king.
The foursome of David, Goliath, Judith, and Holofernes appeared together again in Florence, on Lorenzo Ghiberti’s East Doors for the Baptistry. Completed in 1452, these massive, 16-foot high doors are considered one of the “crowning masterpieces of Renaissance art.” Michelangelo declared them the “Gates of Paradise.”5 Here, a small statuette of Judith, with sword raised and head in hand, stands opposite the relief of “David Killing Goliath.” In 15th-century Florence, we see that David and Judith were paired together in two of the most prominent political and religious structures. The biblical heroes stood as symbols of Florentine liberty at a time when Florence was fighting to uphold its autonomy. In 1402, Florence was the only Italian state that remained to fight the despotism of the Duke of Milan, whose ambition was to unite and control all of northern Italy. Florence would continue to fend off would-be conquerors and their assaults in 1414 and again in 1423.6 When Florence was “characterized by continuing threats of conquest by tyrants from outside the city,” David and Judith represented liberty: tyrant slayers and saviors of their people.7
Donatello
Detail, David
ca. 1430, bronze
Museo Nazionale del Bargello
Florence
Back at the Medici Palace, the inscription that was once at the base of Donatello’s bronze David provides a fitting assessment of the Florentine view of the biblical David as a tyrant slayer. The inscription, moreover, aids in highlighting Judith’s parallel role in the text. It read: “The victor is whoever defends the fatherland. God crushes the wrath of an enormous foe. Behold! A boy overcame a great tyrant. Conquer, o citizens!”8 In the biblical text, the Philistines were a long-standing nemesis of Israel, and evident in I Sam. 13 and 14, they continue to pose a serious and recurring threat in the David and Goliath narrative. Although not a Philistine leader, Goliath, a hulking warrior, comes forward as the representative from the Philistine camp, hurling insults at Israel and challenging an Israelite to one-on-one combat.9 Judith also faces a tyrant, Holofernes, leader of the powerful Assyrian army who besieges Judith’s city of Bethulia by cutting off its water supply, causing drought and the beginnings of starvation. In both narratives, David and Judith single-handedly “engage with the most prominent member of the enemy host” in order to save Israel from a foreign super power.10
Judith is often linked with Jael from the period of the Judges, and rightfully so, as they share many similarities in how each carries out the murder of a foreign army leader. An important distinction, however, is that in the text, Judith’s actions and their consequences for Israel align better with that of David’s in I Sam. 17. For example, Jael slays the enemy army commander, Sisera the Canaanite, in Judges 4 and 5. She kills by violently disfiguring Sisera’s head, using a tent peg and hammer, which were domestic items (Judges 4:21).11 But Judith, like David, uses her enemy’s own sword—a weapon associated with masculinity and battle, typically outside the realm of women—to decapitate the enemy.12 Most importantly, the significance of the women’s actions is dramatically different. Sisera’s army has already been defeated and no longer poses a threat to Israel (Judges 4:16). Jael simply offers a fugitive refuge and kills him. But Judith, like David, is responding to an enemy who is currently terrorizing Israel (I Sam. 13-14).13 And, like David who responds to Goliath’s challenge, Judith also responds to a dire situation in which later, her victim seeks to get the better of her, hoping to conquer her sexually.14 While Judith demonstrates many similarities to Jael, Judith’s warrior-like actions and Israel’s deliverance by her hands more closely resembles that of David in his struggle with Goliath.
Judith is often linked with Jael from the period of the Judges, and rightfully so, as they share many similarities in how each carries out the murder of a foreign army leader. An important distinction, however, is that in the text, Judith’s actions and their consequences for Israel align better with that of David’s in I Sam. 17. For example, Jael slays the enemy army commander, Sisera the Canaanite, in Judges 4 and 5. She kills by violently disfiguring Sisera’s head, using a tent peg and hammer, which were domestic items (Judges 4:21).11 But Judith, like David, uses her enemy’s own sword—a weapon associated with masculinity and battle, typically outside the realm of women—to decapitate the enemy.12 Most importantly, the significance of the women’s actions is dramatically different. Sisera’s army has already been defeated and no longer poses a threat to Israel (Judges 4:16). Jael simply offers a fugitive refuge and kills him. But Judith, like David, is responding to an enemy who is currently terrorizing Israel (I Sam. 13-14).13 And, like David who responds to Goliath’s challenge, Judith also responds to a dire situation in which later, her victim seeks to get the better of her, hoping to conquer her sexually.14 While Judith demonstrates many similarities to Jael, Judith’s warrior-like actions and Israel’s deliverance by her hands more closely resembles that of David in his struggle with Goliath.
Donatello
Details, Judith and Holofernes
ca. 1460, bronze
Pallazo Vecchio
Florence
Indeed, Judith and David share a number of themes. Like David, Judith is an unexpected hero. David is a paidárion—in Greek, a young boy going up against a giant.15 Aside from being young, David is also a shepherd, a “difficult and often despised occupation, associated with various forms of dishonor (such as thievery),” and so relegated to the male in the family of lowest status.16Likewise, as a widow, Judith is in a category alongside the orphan and foreigner. She is among societies’ most vulnerable and in need of protection (cf. Deut. 10:18; Ps. 68:5). With Judith as with David, a theological message throughout both narratives is that “God will not be restrained by established social roles and institutions,” but will support the weak to bring down the mighty.17
The motif of the heroes’ hand as an agent of God is mentioned twice in the David and Goliath narrative and six times in the Book of Judith.18 In I Sam. 17:46, David warns Goliath: “And the Lord shall deliver you this day into my hand.” Judith also acknowledges that God is responsible for her success, encouraging her people: “Praise God, I say, for he has not taken away his mercy from the house of Israel, but has destroyed our enemies by my hands this night” (Judith 13:14). Both David and Judith criticize the enemy for their reliance on weapons instead of God. In I Sam. 17:45, David taunts Goliath, “You come to me with sword, and with spear, and with shield; but I come to you in the name of the Lord God of hosts of the army of Israel.” And just like David, Judith also criticizes the enemy for its dependence on material weapons: “Behold, the Assyrians . . . they trust in shield and spear, in bow and sling … and know not that you are the Lord that breaks the battles: the Lord is your name” (Judith 9:7).
One of the earliest facts we learn about David and Judith is that they are both beautiful, a detail that is sometimes thought to denote divine favor.19 In I Sam. 16:12—David’s first appearance in the biblical text—the initial detail given is that David is “ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome.” This is immediately followed by God’s command to Samuel: “Rise and anoint David; for he is good” (I Sam. 16:12). Later, in I Sam. 17:42, when Goliath first sees David, he disdains him because he was only a boy, “ruddy and handsome in appearance.” Likewise, in her introduction, Judith is described as “shapely and beautiful” (Judith 8:7), and shortly after the narrator tells us that she is not only beautiful, he adds that, “No one spoke ill of her because she feared God greatly” (Judith 8:8). Later, when Holofernes first sees Judith, we learn that he and his attendants were “all struck by her beautiful face” (Judith 10:23). This juxtaposition between David’s handsomeness and his anointing, and Judith’s beauty followed by the mention of her piety, are indicators that for the authors of these texts, beauty denotes divine favor.
When Israel is threatened, both David and Judith stand up alone to face the enemy. This is in sharp contrast with their respective leaders who are full of apprehension and dread (I Sam. 17:11; Judith cf. 7:30-32, 8:9-20). Saul and his army’s fearful reaction to Goliath’s challenge is similar to how the Israelites react to Holofernes’ siege: in I Sam. 17:11, the Israelites are “greatly terrified” and in Judith 4:2, they are “exceedingly afraid.” One difference is that while David had to prove to Saul that he was up to the challenge, Judith’s credentials as a respected and God-fearing woman were already established (I Sam. 17:34-37; Judith 8). With their leaders’ approval of their missions, both David and Judith are offered a blessing: Saul tells David, “Go, and may the Lord be with you!” (I Sam. 17:37). And Uzziah states to Judith: “Go in peace, and may the Lord God go before you, to take revenge (ekdíkēsis) on our enemies” (Judith 8:35).
Much ink has been spilt over Donatello’s depiction of a nude and effeminate David—theories on Donatello’s sexuality to a symbol of Platonic love between soldiers have been put forth20—but I suggest David’s adolescent nudity is another reminder that this narrative champions the unexpected hero and at the same time recalls the rather humorous scene in the narrative in which Saul dresses David in his own soldiers’ garb to match that of Goliath: a bronze helmet and full coat of arms. David attempts to walk but is unable in the heavy, cumbersome armor and so the texts states, “So they removed them from him” (I Sam. 17:39). David fights with stone and sling, humble weapons of a shepherd familiar to him and in direct opposition to Goliath’s warrior armor. Donatello’s nude and effeminate David reinforces the notion that “heroic fitness will be seen to reside in something other than being head and shoulders taller than all the people.”21
Like David, Judith’s power is not physical strength, for she uses tactics unique and familiar to her to subdue Holofernes: her wit and beauty. In 1504, the same year Donatello’s bronze Judith was removed from its second location at the Piazza della Signoria due to its “indecency”—a subject to which I will return shortly—Giorgione completed his painting, Judith. Bearing a remarkable likeness to Donatello’s bronze David, Giorgione’s work presents an uncanny visual parallel between heroes. Holding her enemy-turned-victim’s sword, Judith stands triumphant, her foot resting on Holofernes’ severed head. Judith’s flowing, feminine, rose-colored gown reminds us that Judith, like David, “dressed up,” or “dressed to kill,” for her encounter with the enemy (Judith 10:3-4; 12:15). Her exposed thigh, bent knee, and bare foot emphasize the heroine’s use of sexuality to accomplish her mission (cf. Judith 16:9).
The motif of the heroes’ hand as an agent of God is mentioned twice in the David and Goliath narrative and six times in the Book of Judith.18 In I Sam. 17:46, David warns Goliath: “And the Lord shall deliver you this day into my hand.” Judith also acknowledges that God is responsible for her success, encouraging her people: “Praise God, I say, for he has not taken away his mercy from the house of Israel, but has destroyed our enemies by my hands this night” (Judith 13:14). Both David and Judith criticize the enemy for their reliance on weapons instead of God. In I Sam. 17:45, David taunts Goliath, “You come to me with sword, and with spear, and with shield; but I come to you in the name of the Lord God of hosts of the army of Israel.” And just like David, Judith also criticizes the enemy for its dependence on material weapons: “Behold, the Assyrians . . . they trust in shield and spear, in bow and sling … and know not that you are the Lord that breaks the battles: the Lord is your name” (Judith 9:7).
One of the earliest facts we learn about David and Judith is that they are both beautiful, a detail that is sometimes thought to denote divine favor.19 In I Sam. 16:12—David’s first appearance in the biblical text—the initial detail given is that David is “ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome.” This is immediately followed by God’s command to Samuel: “Rise and anoint David; for he is good” (I Sam. 16:12). Later, in I Sam. 17:42, when Goliath first sees David, he disdains him because he was only a boy, “ruddy and handsome in appearance.” Likewise, in her introduction, Judith is described as “shapely and beautiful” (Judith 8:7), and shortly after the narrator tells us that she is not only beautiful, he adds that, “No one spoke ill of her because she feared God greatly” (Judith 8:8). Later, when Holofernes first sees Judith, we learn that he and his attendants were “all struck by her beautiful face” (Judith 10:23). This juxtaposition between David’s handsomeness and his anointing, and Judith’s beauty followed by the mention of her piety, are indicators that for the authors of these texts, beauty denotes divine favor.
When Israel is threatened, both David and Judith stand up alone to face the enemy. This is in sharp contrast with their respective leaders who are full of apprehension and dread (I Sam. 17:11; Judith cf. 7:30-32, 8:9-20). Saul and his army’s fearful reaction to Goliath’s challenge is similar to how the Israelites react to Holofernes’ siege: in I Sam. 17:11, the Israelites are “greatly terrified” and in Judith 4:2, they are “exceedingly afraid.” One difference is that while David had to prove to Saul that he was up to the challenge, Judith’s credentials as a respected and God-fearing woman were already established (I Sam. 17:34-37; Judith 8). With their leaders’ approval of their missions, both David and Judith are offered a blessing: Saul tells David, “Go, and may the Lord be with you!” (I Sam. 17:37). And Uzziah states to Judith: “Go in peace, and may the Lord God go before you, to take revenge (ekdíkēsis) on our enemies” (Judith 8:35).
Much ink has been spilt over Donatello’s depiction of a nude and effeminate David—theories on Donatello’s sexuality to a symbol of Platonic love between soldiers have been put forth20—but I suggest David’s adolescent nudity is another reminder that this narrative champions the unexpected hero and at the same time recalls the rather humorous scene in the narrative in which Saul dresses David in his own soldiers’ garb to match that of Goliath: a bronze helmet and full coat of arms. David attempts to walk but is unable in the heavy, cumbersome armor and so the texts states, “So they removed them from him” (I Sam. 17:39). David fights with stone and sling, humble weapons of a shepherd familiar to him and in direct opposition to Goliath’s warrior armor. Donatello’s nude and effeminate David reinforces the notion that “heroic fitness will be seen to reside in something other than being head and shoulders taller than all the people.”21
Like David, Judith’s power is not physical strength, for she uses tactics unique and familiar to her to subdue Holofernes: her wit and beauty. In 1504, the same year Donatello’s bronze Judith was removed from its second location at the Piazza della Signoria due to its “indecency”—a subject to which I will return shortly—Giorgione completed his painting, Judith. Bearing a remarkable likeness to Donatello’s bronze David, Giorgione’s work presents an uncanny visual parallel between heroes. Holding her enemy-turned-victim’s sword, Judith stands triumphant, her foot resting on Holofernes’ severed head. Judith’s flowing, feminine, rose-colored gown reminds us that Judith, like David, “dressed up,” or “dressed to kill,” for her encounter with the enemy (Judith 10:3-4; 12:15). Her exposed thigh, bent knee, and bare foot emphasize the heroine’s use of sexuality to accomplish her mission (cf. Judith 16:9).
Giorgione, Judith, ca. 1504
oil on canvas
Hermitage, St. Petersburg
Benvenuto Cellini
Perseus with the Head of Medusa, 1545, bronze, Piazza della Signoria, Florence
Artemisia Gentileschi’s 1614 Judith and Her Maidservant presents both the seductive and warrior sides of Judith. The hero is depicted as Holofernes’ feigned love interest: she wears an elegant velvet gown and her hair is styled in an elaborate plait. But upon closer look, we see that her delicate brooch renders an image of a strong male figure, holding a possible shield and spear. It is unclear whether the allusion is to David, but art historian Mary Garrard notes that the figure “compliments and extends [Judith’s] own identity.”22 Gentileschi’s painting is a nod to Judith’s status as a woman warrior who kills a tyrant for her people.
Artemisia Gentileschi
Judith and Her Maidservant
1614, oil on canvas
Alazzo Pitti, Florence
After the Medici were expelled from Florence in 1495, Donatello’s Judith Beheading Holofernes was moved from the Medici Palace and placed in a prominent position in the courtyard of the Palazzo Vecchio, also called the Piazza della Signoria.23 But nine years later in 1504, Donatello’s Judith sculpture was removed and replaced with Michelangelo’s David, depicted with sling and stone, perhaps just before slaying Goliath. The new democratic government justified the sculpture’s substitution, stating: “Judith is a deadly sign and inappropriate in this place because [Florence’s] symbol is the cross as well as the lily, and it is not fitting that the woman should slay the man.”24 Taking this kind of thinking even further, later in 1554, the David statue would be replaced with Cellini’s Perseus Holding the Head of Medusa: a powerful rendering of the male demi-god Perseus moments after beheading the very female form of the Gorgon, Medusa.
It can be argued that Judith is recognized most for being the biblical woman who kills a man and that she does so in such a gruesome way, decapitating Holofernes. Judith’s treatment of the body provides one of the strongest parallels with David. Once David strikes the Philistine warrior in the forehead with the stone he slings, Goliath is incapacitated and falls face-first to the ground. Then, taking hold of Goliath’s sword, David kills him and cuts off his head.25 When the Philistine army sees that Goliath, the representative, is dead, they flee (I Sam. 17:51). David then takes the severed head to Jerusalem, along with Goliath’s armor that he confiscates (I Sam. 17:54).26
Like Goliath, Judith’s victim is subdued before she kills him. The text is clear that Judith makes herself so alluring that Holofernes’ desire for her is incited, causing him to drink excessively, to the point of passing out on his bed (Judith 12:15-20). With two chops, Judith cuts off Holofernes’ head, also with the enemies’ own sword. And similar to David, Judith expropriates a possession of her enemy—a bed canopy—and takes it along with his head back to Bethulia. The head is hung from the town’s wall (Judith 14:1). The Israelite army witnesses David slaying Goliath, but because Judith kills Holofernes in the Assyrian camp, she must take the head back to Bethulia as proof that he had been vanquished. And just as the Philistine army flees when they witness Goliath’s defeat, upon the discovery of Holofernes’ headless body the following morning, the Assyrian soldiers also scatter and flee from their camp (Judith 15:1-3).
The public display of the severed heads has efficacy in the ancient Near East. T. M. Lemos writes: “Wartime mutilation and the display of war trophies often have the function of signaling a change in power relations” between victim and aggressor.27 David and Judith’s acts of dismemberment not only bring shame to their victims, but to the armies they represent as well. It is no surprise then that in both narratives the Israelites are imbued with confidence after learning of the decapitations. Saul’s army pursues the fleeing Philistine army: “The troops of Israel and Judah rose up with a shout and pursued the Philistines as far as Gath and the gates of Ekron, so that the wounded Philistines fell on the way from Shaaraim as far as Gath and Ekron. The Israelites came back from chasing the Philistines, and they plundered their camp” (I. Sam. 17:52-53). In the Book of Judith, the Israelites pursue the Assyrians and also loot the camp: “When the Israelites heard it, with one accord they fell upon the enemy, and cut them down as far as Choba. . . . The rest of the people of Bethulia fell upon the Assyrian camp and plundered it, acquiring great riches” (Judith 15:5-6). In both narratives, Israel pursues and defeats the enemy and raids their abandoned camps.
The praise David and Judith receive for their heroic actions of liberating Israel from a formidable enemy seals the evidence that David is an archetype for the Judith story. In I Sam. 18:6, the women of Israel come out to meet David with dancing and “with timbrels, and with rejoicing, and with cymbals.” Reminiscent of David’s celebration, all the women of Israel run together to see Judith; they dance and bless her (Judith 15:12), and Judith leads the women in a song of praise to the Lord also with timbrels and cymbals (Judith 16:1). Here we have validation that Judith has fully entered the realm of warrior, receiving the same victor’s welcome as David, and their celebrated accomplishments are identical.
The material association of David and Judith in early modern Italy demonstrates their parallel roles as tyrant slayers in both Florentine politics, as well as the biblical text. For Florence under the Medici’s, these biblical figures stood as symbols of liberty against the threatened tyranny of a Milanese incursion, and they were quickly dismantled from their places of prominence when the Medici’s were overthrown. Visualizations of Judith’s victory over Holofernes compared with that of David’s defeat of Goliath encourage investigation into the narratives, revealing that David serves as an archetype for Judith and her story. Both are improbable heroes who step forward to fight and defeat fierce tyrants whose armies threaten their people. Like Israel compared with surrounding nations, David and Judith appear as meager and inferior opponents facing large and mighty enemies.28 However, the text makes clear that God aids and protects the weak—the shepherd boy and widow included—to bring down their oppressors. Modeled after David in art and text, Judith proves to be just as much a warrior, savior, and liberator of Israel as its most famous king.
NOTES
It can be argued that Judith is recognized most for being the biblical woman who kills a man and that she does so in such a gruesome way, decapitating Holofernes. Judith’s treatment of the body provides one of the strongest parallels with David. Once David strikes the Philistine warrior in the forehead with the stone he slings, Goliath is incapacitated and falls face-first to the ground. Then, taking hold of Goliath’s sword, David kills him and cuts off his head.25 When the Philistine army sees that Goliath, the representative, is dead, they flee (I Sam. 17:51). David then takes the severed head to Jerusalem, along with Goliath’s armor that he confiscates (I Sam. 17:54).26
Like Goliath, Judith’s victim is subdued before she kills him. The text is clear that Judith makes herself so alluring that Holofernes’ desire for her is incited, causing him to drink excessively, to the point of passing out on his bed (Judith 12:15-20). With two chops, Judith cuts off Holofernes’ head, also with the enemies’ own sword. And similar to David, Judith expropriates a possession of her enemy—a bed canopy—and takes it along with his head back to Bethulia. The head is hung from the town’s wall (Judith 14:1). The Israelite army witnesses David slaying Goliath, but because Judith kills Holofernes in the Assyrian camp, she must take the head back to Bethulia as proof that he had been vanquished. And just as the Philistine army flees when they witness Goliath’s defeat, upon the discovery of Holofernes’ headless body the following morning, the Assyrian soldiers also scatter and flee from their camp (Judith 15:1-3).
The public display of the severed heads has efficacy in the ancient Near East. T. M. Lemos writes: “Wartime mutilation and the display of war trophies often have the function of signaling a change in power relations” between victim and aggressor.27 David and Judith’s acts of dismemberment not only bring shame to their victims, but to the armies they represent as well. It is no surprise then that in both narratives the Israelites are imbued with confidence after learning of the decapitations. Saul’s army pursues the fleeing Philistine army: “The troops of Israel and Judah rose up with a shout and pursued the Philistines as far as Gath and the gates of Ekron, so that the wounded Philistines fell on the way from Shaaraim as far as Gath and Ekron. The Israelites came back from chasing the Philistines, and they plundered their camp” (I. Sam. 17:52-53). In the Book of Judith, the Israelites pursue the Assyrians and also loot the camp: “When the Israelites heard it, with one accord they fell upon the enemy, and cut them down as far as Choba. . . . The rest of the people of Bethulia fell upon the Assyrian camp and plundered it, acquiring great riches” (Judith 15:5-6). In both narratives, Israel pursues and defeats the enemy and raids their abandoned camps.
The praise David and Judith receive for their heroic actions of liberating Israel from a formidable enemy seals the evidence that David is an archetype for the Judith story. In I Sam. 18:6, the women of Israel come out to meet David with dancing and “with timbrels, and with rejoicing, and with cymbals.” Reminiscent of David’s celebration, all the women of Israel run together to see Judith; they dance and bless her (Judith 15:12), and Judith leads the women in a song of praise to the Lord also with timbrels and cymbals (Judith 16:1). Here we have validation that Judith has fully entered the realm of warrior, receiving the same victor’s welcome as David, and their celebrated accomplishments are identical.
The material association of David and Judith in early modern Italy demonstrates their parallel roles as tyrant slayers in both Florentine politics, as well as the biblical text. For Florence under the Medici’s, these biblical figures stood as symbols of liberty against the threatened tyranny of a Milanese incursion, and they were quickly dismantled from their places of prominence when the Medici’s were overthrown. Visualizations of Judith’s victory over Holofernes compared with that of David’s defeat of Goliath encourage investigation into the narratives, revealing that David serves as an archetype for Judith and her story. Both are improbable heroes who step forward to fight and defeat fierce tyrants whose armies threaten their people. Like Israel compared with surrounding nations, David and Judith appear as meager and inferior opponents facing large and mighty enemies.28 However, the text makes clear that God aids and protects the weak—the shepherd boy and widow included—to bring down their oppressors. Modeled after David in art and text, Judith proves to be just as much a warrior, savior, and liberator of Israel as its most famous king.
NOTES
- Sarah Blake McHam, “Donatello’s Bronze David and Judith as Metaphors of Medici Rule in Florence,” The Art Bulletin, vol. 83 (2001), 42, ft. 2.
- Ibid., 32.
- Ibid.
- Ibid., 41.
- Arthur Lubow, “The Gates of Paradise,” Smithsonian Magazine (November 2007).
- After the Duke of Milan Gian Galleazzo Visconti died in 1414, King Ladislaus of Naples attempted to conquer Florence. He also died soon after. Later, in 1423, Galleazzo’s son Fillipo Maria Visconti posed a new threat to Florence’s republic. See Laurie Schneider, “Donatello’s Bronze David,” The Art Bulletin, vol. 55 (1973), 213.
- Schneider, 213.
- McHam, 32.
- Contests between individual soldiers representing a larger army were common in ancient times. “The logic behind such contests was grounded in the belief that battles were ultimately decided by God or the gods.” See John H. Walton, Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary: Joshua, Judges, Ruth, I & II Samuel (Zondervan, 2009), 346-347.
- Philip F. Esler, Sex, Wives, and Warriors: Reading Biblical Narrative with its Ancient Audience (Eugene: Wipf & Stock Publishers, 2011), 272. I would be remiss if I did not mention that after writing this article, I discovered this book by Esler, containing a chapter that touches on the comparisons between Judith and David. I have found Esler’s work valuable and cite his contributions here. One significant distinction, however, is that while Esler demonstrates well the parallels between the two heroes, this article goes a step further and I argue that not only are there marked similarities in the narratives, but that Judith is carefully crafted—in text and image—after David.
- Both disfigure the head of an enemy army commander who act on behalf of the kings they represent: King Jabin and King Nebuchadnezzar.
- In Judges 4:21, Jael kills the enemy army commander Sisera with a tent peg, which would have been a common household item at the time, as the people were still portrayed as semi-nomadic tent-dwellers.
- I Sam. 13:5-7: “The Philistines mustered to fight with Israel, thirty thousand chariots, and six thousand horsemen, and troops like the sand on the seashore in multitude; they came up and encamped at Michmash, to the east of Beth-aven. When the Israelites saw that they were in distress (for the troops were hard pressed), the people hid themselves in caves and in holes and in rocks and in tombs and in cisterns. Some Hebrews crossed the Jordan to the land of Gad and Gilead. Saul was still at Gilgal, and all the people followed him trembling.” I Sam 14:52: “There was hard fighting against the Philistines all the days of Saul; and when Saul saw any strong or valiant warrior, he took him into his service.”
- Esler, 272.
- I am using the Old Greek version of the LXX text for I Sam. 17, which is similar to the Masoretic text, but shorter and thought to be an older version The tradition preserved in the Old Greek of the LXX is much shorter than the MT. In the LXX, vv 12-31; 41; 48b; 50; and 55-58 are missing. The LXX and MT versions, however, do not make up an entirely complete account on their own so they are not thought to be from two independent sources. See Kevin J. Melish, I & II Samuel: A Commentary in the Wesleyan Tradition (Kansas City, MO: Beacon Hill, 2012), 120.
- Ibid., 286.
- Ibid., 296.
- Cf. I Sam 17:46-47; Judith 8:33; 9:9-10; 13:14-15; 16:5.
- In Judith’s introduction, we are also given her genealogy, which is the longest awarded to any woman in the Bible (Judith 8:1). Like David (cf. I Chron. 2), Judith can trace her lineage to Jacob, also establishing her place in the long line of Israel’s patriarchs.
- H.W. Janson relates the David statue’s effeminacy to Donatello’s own personality and cites the artist’s reputation as a homosexual as the inspiration. See Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957), 84-85. Later, Laurie Schneider argues that the bronze David relates to several factors pertaining to not only Donatello’s own homosexuality, but to Florence’s contemporary political situation as an independent republic holding out against tyranny. Plato’s Symposium was popular literature and concerns Eros as a patron and protector of men who was said to “inspire soldiers to bravery when they are lovers in the Platonic sense.” In the Symposium, tyrants are said to “discourage relationships inspired by ‘celestial Eros,’ that is, love between men,” a practice that was widely accepted in Florence at the time. By depicting David as a beautiful young boy, Schneider states, Donatello presents a symbol of free Florence as well as defending the laws, which encourage “Platonic love.” See Schneider, 215.
- Robert Alter, The David Story (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1999), 108.
- Mary D. Garrard, “Judith,” in Artemisia Gentileschi: The Image of the Female Hero in Italian Baroque Art (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989), 319.
- Schneider, 213. The Palazzo Vecchio is Florence’s massive town hall, its courtyard called the Palazzo della Signoria.
- Francesco di Lorenzo Filarete, member of the Florentine governing body, quoted in Yael Even, “The Loggia dei Lanzi: A Showcase of Female Subjugation,” in Women’s Art Journal 12 (1991), 10. Emphasis mine.
- I Sam 17:51: “And David ran, and stood upon him, and took his sword, and slew him, and cut off his head: and the Philistines saw that their champion was dead, and they fled.”
- Jerusalem is still a Jebusite city at this time. Further, since David is not a soldier, he likely would not have a tent. Alter puts forth that perhaps the tent refers to the “tent of the Lord.” See Alter, The David Story, 110.
- T. M. Lemos, “Shame and Mutilation of Enemies in the Hebrew Bible,” Journal of Biblical Literature 125 (2006), 240.
- Esler, 296.
