Daf Ditty Chagigah 27: σαλαμάνδρα) HADRAN

[The salamander] has no digestive organs, and gets no food but from the fire, in which it
constantly renews its scaly skin.

— Leonardo da Vinci, Book XX: Humorous Writings,1

The Spanish Salamander

black and red mountaineer

1
The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci, edited by Jean Paul Richter, 1880

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The sun nailed to the sky’s center does not throb

does not breathe

life does not commence without blood

without the embers of sacrifice

Octavio Paz

Rabbi Yosef Ditrani 1639

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As the Gemara has cited the above verse, it clarifies a puzzling aspect of it: The verse began with
the word “altar” and ended with the word “table,” both words describing the same item. Rabbi
Yoḥanan and Reish Lakish both say the following exposition: When the Temple is standing
the altar atones for a person; now that the Temple has been destroyed, it is a person’s table that
atones for him, for his feeding of needy guests atones for his sins.

§ The mishna taught: All the vessels that were in the Temple had second and third substitute
vessels, etc. All the vessels that were in the Temple required immersion, apart from the golden
altar and the bronze altar, because they are considered like the ground. The Gemara cites the
relevant sources: The bronze altar is considered like the ground, as it written concerning this
altar:

-‫ ל ֹא‬,‫ִלּי‬-‫ִמְזַבּח ֲאָב ִנים ַתֲּﬠֶשׂה‬-‫כא ְוִאם‬ 21 And if thou make Me an altar of stone, thou shalt not
,‫ ִכּי ַח ְרְבּ_ ֵהַנְפָתּ ָﬠֶליָה‬:‫ִתְבֶנה ֶאְתֶהן ָגִּזית‬ build it of hewn stones; for if thou lift up thy tool upon it,
.‫ַוְתַּחְלֶלָה‬ thou hast profaned it.
Ex 20:21

“An altar of earth you shall make for Me”

The golden altar is considered like the ground, as it is written:

‫שְּׁלָחן‬ ֻ ‫ָהָאֹרן ְוַה‬ ,‫לא וִּמְשַׁמ ְרָתּם‬ 31 and their charge the ark, and the table, and the
,‫ וְּכֵלי ַהֹקֶּדשׁ‬,‫ְוַהְמֹּנ ָרה ְוַהִמְּזְבֹּחת‬ candlestick, and the altars, and the vessels of the
,‫– ְוֹכל‬w‫ֲאֶשׁר ְיָשׁ ְרתוּ ָבֶּהם; ְוַהָמָּס‬ sanctuary wherewith the priests minister, and the screen,
.‫ֲﬠֹבָדתוֹ‬ and all that pertaineth to the service thereof;
Num 3:31

“The candelabrum and the altars”

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The plural word “altars” indicates that the two altars of the Temple, the bronze one and the golden
one, are compared to each other, teaching that just as the bronze altar is like the ground in that
it cannot contract impurity, the same applies to the golden altar.

§ According to the mishna, Rabbi Eliezer maintains that the altars are pure because they are like
the ground, and the Rabbis say: It is because they are coated. The mishna seems to be saying
that the Rabbis are offering a different reason for the altars not being susceptible to impurity,
namely, that they are coated.

The Gemara is puzzled by this: On the contrary, since they are coated with gold or bronze that
is a reason that they should contract impurity, as the metal coating makes the entire altar
considered as a metal vessel, as stated above, and metal is susceptible to impurity. The Gemara
answers: Say and emend the mishna text as follows: And the Rabbis disagree with Rabbi Eliezer
altogether, and declare the altars to be susceptible to impurity, because they are coated.

And if you wish, say that our text of the mishna is correct, and we should understand that the
Rabbis were saying their statement in response to Rabbi Eliezer: What is your reasoning for
stating that the altars are not susceptible to impurity because they are like the ground? Why didn’t
you say simply that they are wooden vessels fixed in one place? For that is sufficient reason for
them not to be susceptible to impurity. Is it because they are coated with metal, and therefore
they would be considered metal vessels rather than wooden ones, and susceptible to impurity, were
it not for the fact that they are considered like the ground?

This is a mistake, for the coating is not important, and their coating is nullified and considered
subordinate to them, so that they are indeed considered wooden vessels in a fixed place and
therefore not susceptible to impurity. Although generally the status of a vessel does follow its
coating, the Temple table and its altars are exceptions, as derived from the verse:

‫כב ַהִמְּזֵבַּח ֵﬠץ ָשׁלוֹשׁ ַאמּוֹת ָגֹּבַהּ ְוָא ְרכּוֹ‬
‫ ְוָא ְרכּוֹ‬,‫ וִּמְקֹצעוָֹתיו לוֹ‬,‫ַאמּוֹת‬-‫ְשַׁתּ ִים‬
,‫ ֵﬠץ; ַו ְיַדֵבּר ֵאַלי–ֶזה ַהֻשְּׁלָחן‬,‫ְוִקיֹרָתיו‬
.‫ֲאֶשׁר ִלְפֵני ְיהָוה‬
22 The altar, three cubits high, and the length thereof two
cubits, was of wood, and so the corners thereof; the length
thereof, and the walls thereof, were also of wood; and he said
unto me: ‘This is the table that is before the LORD.’
Ezek 41:22

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cited above (41:22). There is therefore no need to mention that they are compared to the ground.
Since these altars are made of wood they do not contract impurity, irrespective of whether or not
they are attached to the ground.

§ Apropos the coating of the altar, the Gemara cites an Aggadic teaching: Rabbi Abbahu said
that Rabbi Elazar said: The fire of Gehenna has no power over Torah scholars. This can be
derived by an a fortiori inference from the salamander [Salamandra], a creature created out of
fire and immune to its effects, and whose blood is fireproof: If a salamander, which is merely a
product of fire, and nevertheless when one anoints his body with its blood, fire has no power
over him, all the more so should fire not have any power over Torah scholars, whose entire
bodies are fire, as it is written:

;‫ ְיהָוה‬-‫ ְנֻאם‬,‫ כט ֲהלוֹא ֹכה ְדָב ִרי ָכֵּאשׁ‬29 Is not My word like as fire? Saith the LORD; and like
{‫ }ס‬.‫ ְיֹפֵצץ ָסַלע‬,‫וְּכַפִטּישׁ‬ a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces? {S}
Jer 23:29

“Surely My words are as fire, says the Lord” and the words of Torah become part of the Torah
scholars’ very bodies.

RASHI

‫תוספות ד"ה סלמנדרא‬

(Tosfos brings that this is a translation of Achbar.)

.‫ ערוך‬,‫החלד והעכבר תרגמם ירושלמי )הגהת מהר"ץ חיות( כרכושתא וסלמנדרא‬

The Aruch brings that the Targum Yerushalmi of “ha’Choled veha’Achbar” (Vayikra
11:29, the weasel (or mole) and mouse) is “Karkushta v’Salamandra.”

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 (Maharsham – Tosfos justifies Reish Lakish’s proof from the Mizbe’ach. Do not say that
they put Dam Salamandra on the gold, and therefore the fire did not consume the wood.
It is a Tamei Sheretz, so we may use it for the Mizbe’ach!)

JASTROW

Ben Ish Chai

Reish Lakish said: The fire of Gehenna has no power over the sinners of Israel either. This
can be derived by an a fortiori inference from the golden altar: If the golden altar, which has
on it a coating that is no more than the thickness of a gold dinar, and which has incense burning
on it for many years and yet fire has no power over it, as the gold miraculously remained
undamaged, all the more so should immunity from fire be granted to the sinners of Israel, who
are filled with good deeds as a pomegranate is full of seeds, as it is written:

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 w‫ וִּמְדָבּ ֵר‬,w‫שּׁ ִני ִשְׂפתוַֹת ִי‬
ָ ‫ ג ְכּחוּט ַה‬3 Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy mouth is
‫ ִמַבַּﬠד‬,w‫ ָנאֶוה; ְכֶּפַלח ָה ִרמּוֹן ַרָקֵּת‬comely; thy temples are like a pomegranate split open
.w‫ְלַצָמֵּת‬ behind thy veil.
Song 4:3

“Your temples [rakatekh] are like a pomegranate split open” which is to be expounded as
follows: Do not read this word as rakatekh, rather read it as reikanin shebakh, meaning the
empty, worthless people among you; even these people are as full of good deeds as a pomegranate
is full of seeds.

Summary

Rav Avrohom Adler writes:2

Rabbi Yochanan and Rish Lakish both say: When the Beis HaMikdosh was in existence, the Altar
would provide atonement for a person. Now that the Beis HaMikdosh is destroyed, a person’s table
atones for him (through acts of kindness, i.e. inviting guests to his house).

The Mishna had stated: All the vessels which were in the Temple were subject to immersion,
except the Golden Altar and the Copper Altar because they were likened to earth (and earth is not
susceptible to tumah). These are Rabbi Eliezer’s words. The Gemora provides the Scriptural verse
that the Altars are like earth.

The Mishna had stated: All the vessels which were in the Temple were subject to immersion,
except the Golden Altar and the Copper Altar because they were likened to earth (and earth is not
susceptible to tumah). These are Rabbi Eliezer’s words. The Chachamim said: Because they were
plated. It would seem that the Chachamim are in agreement with Rabbi Eliezer that the Altars are
not susceptible to tumah; they are just offering another reason.

The Gemora asks: Isn’t the fact that the Altars were plated a reason why they should acquire
tumah? The Gemora answers: The Chachamim are in fact arguing with Rabbi Eliezer and they
maintain that the Altars can acquire tumah because they are plated.

The Gemora offers an alternative answer: The Chachamim were asking Rabbi Eliezer on the
necessity for citing a verse proving that the Altars cannot acquire tumah because they are likened
to earth. What would be the reason to think that they are susceptible to tumah? If it’s because they
are plated and treated as a metal utensil, that is incorrect. The metal is subordinate to the wood
because Scripture refers to the Altar as an Altar of Wood. Since it is regarded as a wooden vessel,

2
https://dafnotes.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Chagigah_27.pdf

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it cannot acquire tumah because it is stationary, and stationary wooden utensils are not susceptible
to tumah.

Rabbi Avahu said in the name of Rabbi Elozar: The fire of Gehinom does not rule over Torah
scholars. This is derived through a kal vachomer from the Salamandra (a beast created through
magic from a fire that was burning for seven uninterrupted years): A Salamandra, which is only
an offspring of fire, and one who smears himself with its blood, fire cannot rule over him; a Torah
scholar whose entire body is fire, how much more so (fire cannot rule over him). (27a) Rish Lakish
said: The fire of Gehinom cannot rule over the sinners of Israel. This is derived through a kal
vachomer from the Golden Altar: The Golden Altar had only a dinar’s thickness of gold and
nevertheless, the fire of many years did not rule over it; the sinners of Israel, who are full of mitzvos
in the same manner as a pomegranate is full of seeds, how much more so (fire of Gehinom cannot
rule over them).

WE SHALL RETURN TO YOU, CHOMER BAKODESH AND TRACTATE CHAGIGAH IS

CONCLUDED

BURIAL CASKETS MADE FROM THEIR TABLE

The Torah specifies (25:23) that the table in the Mishkan was to be made specifically from atzei
shitim – acacia wood. Why was this type of wood specifically chosen for this purpose?

Rabbeinu Bechaye notes that the letters spelling the word shitim are short for the words shalom,
tovah, yeshuah, mechilah – peace, goodness, salvation, and forgiveness. This type of wood was
also used in the Holy Ark and the altar, hinting to us that the Divine Service performed through
these vessels was the source of bringing down all of these blessings to the world. In our day,
however, when we unfortunately lack all of these items, what do we have in their stead through
which we may merit the rewards and bounty that they brought?

The Gemora derives from a verse in Yechezkel that in the absence of the Holy Temple, the
generous opening up of a person’s table to serve the poor and other guests serves in lieu of the
altar. The Gemora in Berachos (54b) adds that doing so is a merit for long life. Reb Oizer Alpert
cites the Rabbeinu Bechaye, who mentions the fascinating custom of the pious men of France who
had their burial caskets built from the wood of their tables.

This symbolizes their recognition that upon dying, none of their earthly possessions would be
accompanying them and the only item they could take with them was the merit of the charity and
hosting of guests that they performed in their lifetimes.

In fact, the Minchas Cohen suggests that the letters in the word shulchan are abbreviations for
shomer likevurah chesed nedivosayich – preserving for burial the kindness of your giving!

THE FIRE SALAMANDER

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Rav Mordechai Kornfeld writes:3

The Gemara teaches that the salamander is a product of fire and that its oil protects a person’s flesh
from being burned by fire. RASHI here (DH Salamandra) and in Sanhedrin (63b, DH Salamandra)
explains that the salamander is created when a fire burns continuously in one place for seven years.

However, Rashi in Chulin (127a, DH v’Salamandra) writes that this creature is created through
the use of sorcery, from a fire made with myrtle branches.

How are the two different explanations of Rashi for the source of the formation of the salamander
to be reconciled? Why does Rashi in Chulin explain that the salamander is created through sorcery,
while here he explains that its creation involves no sorcery? (GILYON HA’SHAS)

The CHASAM SOFER answers that sorcerers cannot create a new creature. Moreover, the
Gemara in Chulin interprets a verse in the Torah (Vayikra 11:29) as referring to the salamander.
The verse certainly would not refer to a creature which is created only by sorcerers.

Rather, it appears that the salamander is a creature which loves the heat and finds comfort in the
fiery depths of the earth. Sorcerers are able to bring this creature out from its hidden location with
the use of sorcery. In order to bring out the salamander, however, the sorcerers must create an
appropriate habitat for it. This is accomplished by burning a fire in the same place for a lengthy
span of time, as Rashi mentions here in Chagigah and in Sanhedrin.

The ROGATCHOVER GA’ON (Teshuvos Tzafnas Pane’ach #234) suggests that anything
brought into being in an extraordinary, unexpected manner is referred to as “sorcery” (Keshafim).
Although the salamander is a natural creature (as the Chasam Sofer proved), since it comes about
in such an unusual manner it can be said that it is created through the use of “sorcery.”

THE MITZVOS OF THE SINNERS OF ISRAEL

The Gemara states that “the transgressors of Yisrael (Posh’ei Yisrael) are full of Mitzvos like a
pomegranate.” Generally, “transgressions” (Pesha’im) are considered to be the most offensive kind
of sin. Why, then, are “transgressors” deemed so worthy by the Gemara?

REBBI SHIMON MARYLES zt’l, the Yoruslaver Rebbe (b. 1761), in TORAS
SHIMON (translated to English by his descendant, Rabbi Ari Maryles of Chicago) answered this
question as follows…

The Midrash (Bereishis Rabah 84:19) says that after Reuven repented for his sin, Hash-m promised
him, “No one has ever sinned before me and repented [like you did]. My son, in reward for

3
https://www.dafyomi.co.il/chagigah/insites/cg-dt-027.htm

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introducing Teshuvah to the world, I promise that your descendant will introduce Teshuvah as
well.” The Midrash identifies that descendant as the prophet Hoshea, who issued a prophecy which
begins with the words, “Return o’ Israel to Hash-m your G-d!” (Hoshea 14:2).

The Midrash’s assertion that Reuven was the first person to do Teshuvah is difficult to understand.
The very first man, Adam ha’Rishon, as well as his son, Kayin, engaged in Teshuvah long before
Reuven! Apparently, the intention of the Midrash is as follows.

Reuven was the first to introduce Teshuvah as a necessary prelude to the performance of a Mitzvah
(in his case, returning to rescue Yosef from the pit). The importance of doing Teshuvah prior to
performing a Mitzvah is derived from the Tikunei Zohar (Tikun 6), which states that any Mitzvah
performed without an adequate blend of “fear and love” of Hash-m does not succeed in rising
heavenward, for these two qualities serve as the “wings” of the Mitzvah.

This is hinted to in the verse, “They shall raise you up in their palms, lest you knock your foot
against a stone” (Tehilim 91:12) – the “palms” allude to the qualities of fear and love of Hash-m
aroused through Teshuvah which protect one’s performance of a Mitzvah from the dangers of the
Yetzer ha’Ra, often symbolized by a stone.

Thus, when a person performs a Mitzvah it is necessary that other elements be present – besides
the actual execution of the Mitzvah – in order for the Mitzvah to be credited to that person in
Shamayim. Those elements include fear of Hash-m, love of Hash-m, and doing complete Teshuvah
before performing the Mitzvah, so that the Mitzvah is performed with the utmost sincerity. When
a Mitzvah is performed in that manner, it acquires wings, so to speak, to fly up to Shamayim.

A perpetual transgressor (or “Posh’ei Yisrael”) invests none of these elements into the few Mitzvos
which he manages to carry out in this world. As a result, his Mitzvos have no means with which
to fly heavenward, and instead they settle and accumulate around him, convincing him that he is
“full of Mitzvos like a pomegranate.” In contrast, the Tzadik – whose Mitzvos, borne by the thrust
of his fear of Hash-m, love of Hash-m, and his Teshuvah, soar immediately heavenward – always
appears to himself as bereft of Mitzvos because all of his Mitzvos go straight to Shamayim.

This is also the meaning of the verse (Devarim 30:2), “And you shall return to Hash-m your G-d”
– that is, when you first do Teshuvah, you may “[then] heed His voice” – proceed with the
performance of His Mitzvos, “according to all which I command you this day” – so that the
Mitzvos can rise heavenward.

This is also the intention of the prayer we recite each morning, “May He place in our hearts love
of Him and fear of Him, and [may those two qualities give us the ability] to do His will and serve
Him with a perfect heart.” It is the love and fear of Hash-m, aroused through Teshuvah, which
elevates one’s actions.

This idea explains the Mishnah in Avos (4:21-22): “Rebbi Yakov says: This world is like an
anteroom before the World to Come; prepare yourself in the anteroom, so that you might enter the
banquet hall.” The Mishnah continues, “He would also say: Better one hour of Teshuvah and good
deeds in this world than the entire life of the World to Come, and better one hour of contentment

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in the World to Come than all the life of this world.” The connection between these two statements
of Rebbi Yakov may be explained as follows: How should one prepare himself in the anteroom of
this world for the reward of the World to Come? One should prepare himself in this world by doing
Teshuvah before every Mitzvah that he does, so that those Mitzvos will rise heavenward on the
strength of the fear and love that is aroused through his Teshuvah.

In this sense, it may be said that Rebbi Yakov was actually offering a defense for his grandfather,
Elisha ben Avuyah (Kidushin 39b), the Tana who became a heretic and thereafter was referred to
as “Acher.” The Gemara (Chagigah 15a) attributes Acher’s persistence in maintaining his
rebellious lifestyle to a voice he once heard echoing from behind the heavenly curtain, which said,
“Return, all you wayward children, except for Acher!” One might ask that, granted, the heavenly
voice rejected the possibility of Acher repenting for the sins which he had already committed, but
what prevented him, in the event that he did feel remorse, from accumulating a new store of
Mitzvos that would count in his favor for the future? In answer to this question, Rebbi Yakov
offers his insight: “Better one hour of Teshuvah and good deeds in this world than the entire life
of the World to Come” – for without the spiritual advantage of Teshuvah, all of the Mitzvos one
does in this world have little effect. This might have been Acher’s reasoning which caused him to
despair of ever correcting his ways.

WILL TALMIDEI CHACHAMIM AND SINNERS SHARE THE SAME FATE?

The Gemara quotes the statement of Reish Lakish that the Posh’ei Yisrael, the sinners of Yisrael,
will not be burned by the fire of Gehinom, just as the thin layer of gold upon the Mizbe’ach was
not burned by the fire that burned there each day. (See also Insights to Eruvin 19:1)

This statement is difficult to understand. The Gemara earlier derives from a Kal v’Chomer that
Talmidei Chachamim will not be burned by the fire of Gehinom: just as the Salamandra comes
from fire and its oil is fire-proof and protects a person’s skin from fire, certainly Talmidei
Chachamim – whose entire bodies are fire (because they learn Torah) – will be protected from the
fire of Gehinom. How can the Gemara categorize Talmidei Chachamim and Posh’ei Yisrael
together and say that neither group will be affected by the fire of Gehinom? What benefit, then, do
Talmidei Chachamim have over sinners?

The TOSFOS YESHANIM in Eruvin (19a) answers that although the Posh’ei Yisrael will not be
burned by the fire of Gehinom, nevertheless their faces will become blackened from it. Talmidei
Chachamim, on the other hand, will not be harmed at all by the fire.

The source for this answer seems to be the Gemara in Rosh Hashanah (17a) which says that there
is a type of sinner who will be punished by being dipped into Gehinom and immediately removed.
The Gemara there concludes that even though those sinners are not burned, the fire of Gehinom
blackens their faces like the bottom of a pot. Similarly, the Gemara in Eruvin (19a) says that the
reason why Posh’ei Yisrael are not burned in Gehinom is that when they are sent to Gehinom,
Avraham Avinu comes and brings them out from there. After being there for a short period their
faces are blackened, just like the sinners mentioned in Rosh Hashanah. The Talmidei Chachamim,
though, are not sent to Gehinom in the first place.

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This may be understood in a deeper way. The Gemara in Berachos (17a) says that it is our inherent
desire to fulfill the will of Hash-m, but there are external factors that prevent us from doing His
will, such as the Yetzer ha’Ra and our subjugation to the nations of the world. This inner desire to
do the will of Hash-m is expressed in the ruling of the RAMBAM (Hilchos Gerushin 2:20-22),
that if a sinner refuses to give a Get to his wife when he is required to give one, the Beis Din may
strike him until he says, “Rotzeh Ani” (“I want to!”).

The Rambam explains, based on the Gemara in Kidushin (50a), that in his heart even the Rasha
wants to do the will of Hash-m, and it is just external temptations and impediments that prevent
him from doing so. Therefore, when he says “Rotzeh Ani,” we consider his words an expression
of his inner desire, and we may rely upon them and consider his giving of the Get willful and not
coerced.

This is also what Reish Lakish means when he says that “the Posh’ei Yisrael are filled with
Mitzvos like a pomegranate.” Beneath their external shell, they are filled with Mitzvos, but they
have physical lusts that prevent them from doing the will of Hash-m.

This inner desire to do Hash-m’s will is a trait that Jews inherit from their forefathers, Avraham,
Yitzchak, and Yakov. The Gemara in Yevamos (79a) says that certain character traits are ingrained
in the Jewish people, as they inherited them from the forefathers, the Avos. This is what the
Gemara in Eruvin means when it says that Avraham Avinu rescues the sinners from Gehinom. The
Midos that they inherited from Avraham Avinu save them from Gehinom, for their inner desire
during their lifetime was to do Hash-m’s will.

(However, the Gemara there adds that their rescue depends on their identifying themselves with
the Jewish people even though they sinned. If they do not identify with the Jewish people, such as
one who marries a Nochri, they lose the Midos that they inherited and are not saved by Avraham
Avinu.)

What does the Gemara mean when it says that the faces of the sinners become blackened? Perhaps
we may suggest that the face represents the body as a whole, the external part of the person and
the part that everyone on the outside sees (in contrast to the soul; see Megilah 14a, “Hem Lo Asu
Ela l’Fanim”). The body is the source of the external lusts that prevent the full actualization of
one’s inner will to serve Hash-m. As such, the body must be punished.

The’Gemara in Shabbos (152a) says that the destruction of the body is part of the final judgment
of a person. (This is why the final judgment lasts for twelve months; it takes twelve months for the
body to decompose, as the Gemara there says.) Decomposition of the body is a reflection of the
judgment of Gehinom. The Neshamah of the sinner, however, is pulled out of Gehinom. The
Neshamah does not have to be destroyed. (The Gemara in Rosh Hashanah says that there are other
types of sinners whose Neshamos do have to be destroyed.) This type of sinner has only his body
destroyed because his body was the source of his sins.

On the other hand, the Gemara in Bava Metzia (84b) teaches that the bodies of Tzadikim do not
decompose in the grave. Their bodies remain complete even after interred. Since the Tzadik’s
bodily passions did not cause him to sin, there is no reason to punish his body.

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This is why the Gemara here says that “the bodies of Talmidei Chachamim are fire,” and therefore
their bodies are not punished in Gehinom. In contrast, the bodies of Posh’ei Yisrael do have to be
destroyed, as the Tosfos Yeshanim writes, and only their Neshamos – their souls, which are holy
and are compared to the gold upon the holy Mizbe’ach – are not destroyed, because their inner
desire was to fulfill the will of Hash-m.

Steinzaltz (OBM) writes:4

Among the Temple vessels mentioned in the Mishna were the altars, which were made of wood
encased in metal. The outer mizbe’ach was covered in copper, while the inner one was covered in
gold. Masechet Chagigah concludes on our daf with Reish Lakish using the golden altar as a
metaphor that teaches how Jewish people, even if they are sinners, are protected from the fire
of Gehinnom. He argues that just as the altar, whose gold plate is no thicker than the thickness of
a dinar (a type of coin), was not affected by the continuous fire that was on it, similarly Jewish
people are protected, since even the sinners among them are full of mitzvot. To support this idea,
he points to a passage in Shir ha-Shirim (4:3) for which he offers an alternative, Midrashic reading.
Instead of rakatekh (which would mean “your temples are like a pomegranate”), he suggests we
read reikanim she-bakh (meaning that even those Jews who appear to be empty of mitzvot are
filled with them like a pomegranate is full of seeds).

The Sefat Emet explains Reish Lakish’s statement by reminding us that the Torah is referred to as
gold (see Tehillim 19:11), which protects the individual as it does the altar. He also ties this in
with statements made earlier in the Masechet that emphasize how all Jews are seen as righteous
and reliable during the period of the pilgrimage holidays.

In a similar vein, the Gemara quotes Rabbi Abahu in the name of Rabbi Elazar who teaches that
Torah scholars will not be affected by the fires of Gehinom. Just as the salamander, as a creature
of fire whose blood can be used to protect an individual from fire, is safe from being burned,
similarly Torah scholars, who are seen as creatures of fire, are protected. The idea that Torah
scholars are made up of fire comes from Sefer Yirmiyahu (23:29), where the word of God is
compared to fire.

Salamander is the common name applied to approximately 500 species of amphibians with slender
bodies, short legs, and long tails. The common (or “fire”) salamander, salamandra salamander,
lives in and around rivers and swamps in Israel and around the world. There is a superficial
resemblance to lizards, but they have no scales, and their skin is covered with moist mucous. This
salamander is mentioned in the same context as the mythical “Salamandra of fire,” which is
described in the Midrash. Some suggest that the story in the Gemara refers to the common
salamander, which was seen as fire-proof because of its moist body; however, the description of
this creature in the Midrash cannot be reconciled with that idea.

4
https://www.ou.org/life/torah/masechet_hagigah_27/

13
Hashem remembered Noach (Bereshis 8:1), and Hashem remembered Rachel (Bereshis 30:22).
The Midrash (Bereshis Rabba 33:3) points out that Hashem remembered how Noach provided for
the animals for the whole twelve months in the Ark. The Midrash also notes that Rachel was
remembered for being silent as her sister Leah was being taken to marry Yaakov. The Midrash
probes to discover the merit of Noach for which he was saved and what virtue resulted in his being
remembered. It would seem obvious, however, that Noach deserved to be delivered due to his
being “a completely righteous man who walked in the way of God” (ibid. 8:9), as the parasha states
at the beginning.

Why did the Midrash have to search for new reasons for his deliverance? Additionally, when the
Midrash examines the worthiness of Rachel, this also seems superfluous. After all, it was she,
together with Leah, who built the house of Yaakov and the foundations of the Jewish nation. It is
common for people to look upon others and to make general conclusions. If a person sees someone
acting in an unusual way, whether he is conducting himself in an unflattering manner or doing
something wrong, the observer sometimes is quick to judge and deem his neighbor as a “bad
person.” Contrastingly, when Hashem reviews a person’s actions, although this is done in one
swipe, each move and every thought of a person is weighed individually. There is no such thing
as a person being classified as “good” or “bad” due to one act alone.

Rather, certain attitudes are noted, and actions are recognized, which are indicative of general
outlooks. No detail is overlooked. Our Gemara says (Chagiga 27a): “Even transgressors among
the Jewish people are filled with mitzvos, just as a pomegranate is filled with seeds.” This would
not be the case if they were regarded in a general fashion. Yet because every merit is noticed, the
Gemara can say that even those who seem to be sinners are, in fact, quite worthy in their own way.
It is incumbent upon each of us to emulate the ways of Hashem. We must avoid broad judgment
of others and placing them into general categories of being “insensitive”, “unfriendly,” or
“uncaring,” etc. Every person is multi-faceted, each with countless polished and sparkling traits.

R’ Yochanan and Reish Lakish both said: When the Bais Hamikdash is extant the altar atones
for a person but nowadays a person’s table atones for him.

The Beis Yosef (1) cites authorities who maintain that one must cover the knives on the table while
reciting Birkas Hamazon. The rationale for this practice is that regarding the altar the Torah states
(2), “You shall not raise iron upon them.” The reason the Torah restricts raising iron on the stones
of the altar is that it is inappropriate for something that shortens life, namely iron in the form of
weapons, to be used to make something that extends life, namely, the altar. Since according to our

14
Gemara the table stands in the place of the altar it is logical to assume that a similar restriction will
apply.

The Shibolei HaLeket (3) cites another rationale for the practice of removing the knife. One time
a person was reciting Birkas Hamazon and when he reached the third beracha he became so
emotional over the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash that he grabbed the knife and stabbed
himself in the stomach.

Consequently the practice developed to remove the knives from the table while reciting Birkas
Hamazon. There is a practical difference between these two approaches. The Magen Avrohom (4)
writes that according to the first reason mentioned by Bais Yosef, there is no reason to cover the
knives on Shabbos. Since the altar cannot be built on Shabbos there is no connection between the
restriction of using a knife to build the altar and by extension to the table.

On the other hand, Bais Yosef (5) mentions that following the logic of Shibolei Haleket there is
no reason to distinguish between Shabbos and a weekday. Later authorities debate which practice
should be followed. Shulchan Aruch (6) writes that the custom is that people do not cover knives
on Shabbos and Yom Tov.

Magen Avrohom (7) however, cites the Levush who writes that we do not distinguish between
Shabbos and weekdays.

A certain pious man had the practice of sequestering himself in a certain place to study Maseches
Chagiga, and it was his way to review it over and over again. After he knew it well, he committed
it to memory. Although the man was not learned in any other tractate, he spent all his days in the
study of Chagiga until he had fully mastered it.

When the man passed away he was all alone in his home, and no one knew of his demise. A strange
woman soon arrived on the scene and stood over his body in a posture of grief. She raised her
voice in a lament until all the townspeople gathered together to investigate her loud and mournful
cries. She called out to the people of the town, “Come, let us eulogize this man and bury him and

15
honor his memory. Let us merit the life of the World-toCome! For this man honored me all his life
long and saved me from being abandoned and forgotten.” I

Immediately, all of the women came to sit with her, and the town gathered and mourned him with
great honor. The men provided shrouds and arranged his burial, and they honored him greatly at
the funeral. All the while, the mysterious woman cried and wailed and could not be consoled.
Finally, the people of the town asked her, “Who are you?” She said to them, “Who am I? My name
is Chagiga.” As soon as the pious man was buried, the woman disappeared.

All of the townspeople knew that they had been visited by Maseches Chagiga in the form of a
woman, who had come to them to ensure the honorable burial of her devoted student.

Medrash Tanchuma HaYoshon, as brought in Menoras HaMaor, Ner 3, VIII:3:5

The Chofetz Chaim, zt”l, would say: “Anyone who does a single mitzvah acquires a heavenly
advocate. How much more is this so when a person studies a massechta so many times until he
masters it and commits it to memory! Imagine to what extent it petitions on his behalf in the upper
world to save him from Gehinnom and from all of the evil forces that pursue one’s soul. Imagine
to what extent it uplifts him to attain all good, and to be bound eternally together with Hashem!”

Hadran Alach Massechta Chagiga, V’Hadrach Alan!

Image of a salamander unharmed by fire from the Vienna Dioscurides, an

early 6th century Byzantine medical text.

16
 Rachel Scheinerman writes:5

A few weeks ago, I started reading the Harry Potter series with my seven-year-old. Now in
the second book, we’ve just encountered a scene in the Gryffindor common room in which
the mischievous Fred and George Weasley are seen stuffing magical salamanders with
Filibuster fireworks, delighting in watching the poor creatures corkscrew through the air,
emitting loud bangs and “tangerine stars.” The unlucky salamanders are irritated but
fundamentally unhurt, and retreat to safety in the flames of the crackling common room
fireplace where the young wizards cannot reach them.

The incombustible salamander trope is ancient. Aristotle claimed salamanders were not only
fireproof, they were born Phoenix-like from fire and capable of putting it out just by
scampering through it. Pliny the Elder actually ran the experiment (unfortunately, for the
salamanders he captured). These ideas are found in bestiaries well past antiquity, up through
the Middle Ages and into the early modern period. They were also known to the rabbis.
However, as we learn today, the rabbis had a much more effective method of fireproofing:

Rabbi Abbahu said that Rabbi Elazar said: The fire of Gehenna has no power over Torah
scholars. This can be derived by inference from the salamander: If a salamander, which is
merely a product of fire, and nevertheless when one anoints his body with its blood, fire has
no power over him, all the more so should fire not have any power over Torah scholars,
whose entire bodies are fire, as it is written: “Surely My words are as fire, says the
Lord.” (Jeremiah 23:29)

Salamander blood, the rabbis know (as apparently many did), has a remarkable property: It
can be applied to the body as a fire shield. You wouldn’t likely find a rabbinic Jew trying this
trick, however. A dead salamander would probably have been classified as a sheretz, an
inherently impure kind of creeping creature. Painting oneself with its blood would impart
impurity.

Luckily, there’s a much more effective, and less messy, way to acquire fire immunity.
Jeremiah famously prophesied that God’s words are fire. Not forged in fire, like salamanders,
but made of actual fire (we saw this on Shekalim 16 as well). Because Torah scholars embody
words of Torah, they are essentially holy, walking infernos capable of passing through the
flames of Gehenna (surely, more intense than ordinary earth flames) unscathed. One is
reminded of the biblical image of Shadrach, Mishach and Abednego walking through a
superheated furnace completely unharmed. (Daniel 3:25)

That’s all very well for Torah scholars, but what about the rest of us? Luckily, Reish Lakish
has us covered too, and he also gets the last word in this tractate:

5
Myjewishlearning.com

17
 Reish Lakish said: The fire of Gehenna has no power over the sinners of Israel. This is
inferred from the golden altar (in the Temple). If the golden altar, which has on it (a coating
of gold) that is no more than the thickness of a dinar (coin), and which has incense burning
on it for many years and yet fire has no power over it, all the more so should immunity from
fire be granted to the sinners of Israel, who are filled with mitzvot as a pomegranate is full
of seeds, as it is written: “Your temples (rakatekh) are like a pomegranate split
open” (Song of Songs 4:3), which is to be expounded as follows: Do not read this word
as rakatekh, rather read it as reikanin shebakh (meaning the empty, worthless people
among you).

By way of a midrashic pun, Reish Lakish, himself a former brigand, notes that even Jews who
are “empty,” who are full of sins, are also full of mitzvot, like a pomegranate bursting with
seeds. These acts fill them, define them, change their physical nature and shield them from the
fires of Gehenna. He draws an analogy to the gold coating on the Temple altar — discussed at
length earlier on this page when the rabbis were trying to determine if the altar could contract
impurity — which miraculously remains in perfect condition despite all the incense constantly
burned on it.

This tractate, as its name implies, began with the laws of bringing sacrifices to the Temple
on pilgrimage festivals. In the opening pages, we saw a midrash that on the festivals the people
not only are seen by God, they also get to see God. While this midrash is likely meant to be
understood metaphorically, as the tractate progressed we saw that several mystics actually
sought to see God with their own eyes. This proved extremely dangerous — and frequently
resulted in death, not uncommonly by fire.

As we close this tractate, we are reminded that God’s word is also made of fire. We can
swallow it up and it protects us — even from the fires of hell.

Rabbi Johnny Solomon writes:6

Today we finish our study of Massechet Chagigah and consequently our study of all of Seder
Moed! And to say that I am overwhelmed by the fact that I have, with the help of G-d and the
support of my family, written what I hope has been a meaningful Torah thought on every daf
in this Seder – especially given the challenges that we, and especially my wife, have faced
over the past 8 months - is a huge understatement!

With this in mind, I have decided to use this post to share three thoughts: The first is an insight
on Chagigah 27a. The second is an exquisite teaching about Massechet Chagigah. And the last
is a perspective on how to find the right balance between depth and breadth.

6
www.rabbijohnnysolomon.com

18
 In terms of Chagigah 27a we are taught by both Rav Yochanan and Resh Lakish – basing
themselves on Yechezkel 41:22 which begins by referencing the ‫( מזבח‬altar) and which ends
by referencing the ‫( שלחן‬table) - that ‘during the period when the Holy Temple stood, the altar
would atone for a person. Nowadays [when we sadly do not have a Temple], a person’s table
atones for them.’

Commenting on this Gemara, Rashi explains that when we speak of ‘table’, it refers to the
hospitality that we show to others and to the food we give the hungry. In fact, as Rabbeinu
Bachya notes in his commentary on Parshat Terumah, it was the custom of the pious of France
to have their tables transformed into caskets for burial, thereby signifying that one carries
nothing away from this world other than what we do for others.

Nowadays, through the online contributions that we can give to individuals and organisations,
our ‘table’ can stretch far beyond the confines of our home, and especially given that we are
witnessing a humanitarian crisis taking with refugees from Ukraine pouring into many
countries around the world, an apt gesture as we complete the end of our study of Massechet
Chagigah - which begins by speaking about the physical ascent to consume holy food, and
which ends by speaking about the spiritual ascent achieved by providing the needy with food,
is to make a donation to feed the hungry and thereby find a way for our table to atone for us.

Having shared this thought on the final page of Chagigah, I would now like to share an
exquisite teaching about Massechet Chagigah which I encountered many years ago7 and which
continues to move me till today:

‘A story is told of a pious man who lived alone in a particular place and who learnt
Massechet (Tractate) Chagigah. In fact, he learnt it and reviewed it so many times until he
knew it so well that he could recite it by heart. The man did not know any other Massechet
from the Talmud, but instead, he continued reviewing this one Massechet throughout his
life. When he left this world, he was alone in his home and nobody knew that he had died.
At that moment, a figure of a woman appeared, she stood over him, and she raised her voice
wailing and lamenting. In fact, she sighed and wailed so profusely that a large crowd
gathered to whom she instructed: “Eulogize this pious man and bury him! Give honour to
his coffin and you will merit the world to come, for this man honoured me his entire life!
Thanks to him, I was not abandoned or forgotten.” Immediately, all the women gathered
round and sat with her, and an enormous funeral was held. The men tended to the shrouds
and all the other burial requirements, and they buried him with great honour. Meanwhile,
the mysterious woman continued to weep and wail. They asked her, “What is your name?”,
to which she replied, “My name is Chagigah.” As soon as the pious man was buried, the
woman disappeared and the people then realized that it was, indeed, Massechet Chagigah
that had appeared in the form of a woman and who had come at the time of his passing to

7
See Chafetz Chaim’s Torat HaBayit Ch.6, quoting the Menorat HaMaor Ner 3, Klal 8 Part III, which itself is based on a
Midrash Tanchuma

19
lament and weep over him and to see that he was buried with honour - because he had
reviewed this Massechet continually and dedicated himself to its study.’

What we learn from here is that when we study Torah we actually bring joy and life and honour
to that Torah. And as the Chafetz Chaim explains in his Sefer Torat HaBayit (Ch. 6) while
referencing this story, ‘an insightful person will understand from here just how powerful
[the study of just one Massechet can be, and how it serves as] a defender for such a person
on high.’

In light of the above-story, and as those who study daf yomi conclude their study not only of
Massechet Chagigah but of all of Seder Moed, the question we must consider is how do we
achieve a personal relationship with the Torah we learn and bring joy and life and honour to
that Torah, when instead of learning and reviewing one Massechet so many times, we learn
each page and move onto the next, and each Massechet and move onto the next?

Of course, each of us may have our own answer to this question, but aside from the fact that I
try and learn each daf a few times before writing my daily thought, mine is that through
dedicating myself to creating or revealing and then sharing a meaningful Torah thought which
can speak to the huge range of readers of my daily insights from every daf that I have studied,
I hope I have shown affection to each daf I have learnt, and in doing so, brought joy and life
and honour to that Torah.

‫הדרן עלך מסכת חגיגה וסדר מועד‬

Some Concluding Thoughts on Seder Moed

20
Rabbi Jay Kelman writes:8

The Jewish people had sinned, and their future stood in the balance. G-d's initial plans to destroy
the people were thwarted by the intense prayers of Moshe, and it was on Yom Kippur that our
covenant with G-d was reestablished. And on the very next day, the construction of the Mishkan
began.
But that is not the only thing happening on the day after Yom Kippur. "Vayehi meemacharat, and
it was on the next day [after Yom Kippur], and Moshe sat to bring justice to the Jewish people and
the people stood by Moshe from the morning to the night" (Shemot 18:13). Apparently, that first
Yom Kippur had inspired the Jewish people to settle their disputes, and the lineup for resolution
was very long indeed. Seeing this, Yitro advised his son-in-law to set up a tiered court system to
help ensure efficient and the timely execution of justice.
Even more important than Yom Kippur itself is meemacharat, the day after Yom Kippur. It is the
next day that is the true reflection of how our Yom Kippur was. If nothing has changed for the
better--and that change can, nay should, be quite small - "if you [try to] grab too much you will
[end up to] have grabbed nothing" (Yoma 80a) --then for what purpose did we fast?
It is a most beautiful coincidence that the daf yomi cycle finishes Masechet Chagigah, and with it,
Seder Moed, on this, the day after Yom Kippur. Seder Moed details the myriad laws of the Jewish
cycle of time, beginning with Shabbat and continuing with the various holidays--both happy and
sad--during the year. Like on Yom Kippur, we focus on coming closer to G-d both physically, by
celebrating in G-d's home, the Beit Hamikdash; and more importantly spiritually, in our hearts and
through our actions. And like on Yom Kippur, we can only come closer to G-d by strengthening
our relationship to our fellow man (see here for an elaboration). Seder Moed opens with the laws
of carrying on Shabbat. But such laws are expressed through the mitzvah of tzedakah, as the
opening Mishnah discusses the transfer of food from the private domain of homeowner to the
(homeless?) man on the street (see here).
The very last teaching of Seder Moed is that of Reish Lakish: "Poshei Yisrael, the sinners of Israel,
are as full of mitzvoth as a pomegranate [has seeds]" (Chagigah 27a) [1]. What a beautiful
sentiment and ending to Seder Moed! Yes, we often do not live up to our potential. We sin often
and with gusto; we even sin to spite. Yet we are so full of goodness!
We spent yesterday in prayer asking G-d to forgive our chataim, avonot, and peshaim. It is
noteworthy that Reish Lakish chose to praise specifically poshei yisrael. A pesha is a sin done not
because we derive any pleasure from it but rather, for the sake of sinning itself, often in spite and
as a demonstration of rebellion against authority. But Reish Lakish--who was no stranger to
sinning--reminds us that even these same poshei yisrael are full of mitzvoth. It is they--or should
we say, ourselves--whom we invite to join in prayer as we begin Kol Nidrei.
The fact that one identifies as a Jew after thousands of years of persecution is reason enough to
sing the praises of every Jew. If a Jew rebels against many of the mitzvoth, it is only because he
cares about his Jewishness. If not, he would just quietly disappear, as most have done over our

8
https://torahinmotion.org/discussions-and-blogs/some-concluding-thoughts-on-seder-moed

21
history. I much prefer a rebellious Jew to an apathetic one. We have been around for 4,000 years,
and there are no more than 14 million Jews in the world. That is an astoundingly low number. The
vast majority of Jews have, over the course of history, simply assimilated[2]. Those of us who are
left today are even fuller than a pomegranate.
Many make the mistake of equating mitzvoth with ritual observance. Yet mitzvah observance is
so much more. A friendly good morning, a smile, a phone call, a helping hand, an honest day's
work, or a family dinner are just some of the mitzvoth so many do on a daily basis. The Jewish
people truly are a wonderful people full of mitzvoth--way more than we can imagine.

[1] This is likely the basis of our custom to eat pomegranates on Rosh Hashanah.

[2] I can hear many arguing that our low numbers are due to persecution, pogroms, and worse. While these have greatly diminished
our numbers, it does not explain the depth of those low numbers. We are just one of many generations that has an assimilation rate
hovering around 50%. 19th century Eastern Europe was an exception that proves the rule.

The Names of the Outer Altar – The Altar of Stones

Rav Yitzchak Levy writes:9

9
https://etzion.org.il/en/tanakh/studies-tanakh/core-studies-tanakh/names-outer-altar-viii

22
Introduction

In the previous shiurim, we discussed the Torah’s command in Parashat Yitro following
the Ten Commandments: “And if you will make Me an altar of stones.”We addressed the question
of why the Torah introduces the commandment with an “if” clause, as well as the question of
whether the reference here is to a specific altar or is general command.

We saw that in practice, the altars in the Mishkan in its various stations in Eretz Yisrael –
Shilo, Nov, and Giv’on – as well as the altar in Shelomo’s Temple on Mount Moriya, were stone
altars. In addition, we saw that stone altars are mentioned in the Bible in different places and in
different contexts. These are both private and public altars, and they are found in different forms
– bedrock, a large stone, or multiple stones.[1]

In this shiur, I wish to go back to the Torah’s commandment:

And if you will make Me an altar of stones, you shall not build it of hewn stone; for if you
lift up your sword upon it, you have defiled it. (Shemot 20:21)

This prohibition forbids the building of the altar with hewn stones. What exactly is included in this
prohibition? Why does lifting up a sword upon the stones disqualify them? In this shiur, I wish to
discuss these questions and their ramifications.

The Torah’s Commandment and its Execution on Mount Eival and in the
Temple
Regarding the building of the altar on Mount Eival, the Torah states:

And there shall you build an altar to the Lord your God, an altar of stones; you shall not
lift up any iron tool upon them. You shall build the altar of the Lord your God of whole
stones…. (Devarim 27:5)

While in Shemot the Torah speaks of the stones not being hewn and it mentions a sword,
the command in Devarim speaks of a prohibition to lift up an iron tool upon the stones and it says
that the altar must be built of whole stones.

In the report of the execution of the command in the book of Yehoshua, the formulation of
the commandment is not exactly the same as in Devarim:

As Moshe the servant of the Lord commanded the children of Israel, as it is written in the
book of the Torah of Moshe, an altar of whole stones, over which no man lifted up any iron
instrument. (Yehoshua 8:31)[2]

When Shelomo built the First Temple, we read:

23
 And the house, when it was in building, was built of stone made ready before it was brought
there: so that there was neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in the house,
while it was being built. (I Melakhim 6:7)

According to the plain understanding, Shelomo extended the ban to the entire Temple; thus,
Scripture notes that no sound of iron tools was heard at the entire building site. One possible
understanding of this expansion of the prohibition is connected to the perception of the sanctity of
the place. In Shelomo’s days, God chooses a place for the first time, and therefore Shelomo decides
not to use an iron tool on the entire expanse of Mount Moriya because of the sanctity of the place
that was introduced during his time.

The mishna in tractate Middot describes the building of the Second Temple as follows:

We see, then, that the prohibition of using iron tools was a fundamental issue in the building
of the altar and the Temple, both in the Mishkan and in the First and Second Temples.

The Parameters of the Prohibition

The Mekhilta (ad loc.) states:

Gazit means trimmed – that an iron tool was lifted up upon them.

According to the simple understanding of the Mekhilta, it seems that the prohibition is
limited to the case in which the stones were trimmed with an iron tool.

The Ramban in his commentary to the Torah adopts this approach, which emphasizes that
the essence of the prohibition is the lifting up of the iron tool. According to him, the goal of the
prohibition is to distance iron tools from the altar. After citing other explanations, he writes:

24
How Does an Iron Tool Disqualify the Stone?

Is a stone disqualified only when it is cut by an iron tool, or even when it merely comes
into contact with it? The Rambam discusses the prohibition in Hilkhot Beit Ha-Bechira:

The Rambam expands the prohibition and prohibits all contact with an iron tool. What we
have here is absolute distancing, so that the altar should have no connection whatsoever to iron.

Additional Halakhic Ramifications

An interesting and original ramification of the Torah’s assertion, “for if you lift up your
sword upon it, you have defiled it,” is presented by the Chizkuni in connection with the pinching
off (melika) of a bird’s head in a bird burnt-offering:

25
 By the priest himself, since he is at the top of the altar; and not with a knife, as it is written:
“For if you lift up your sword upon it, you have defiled it.” (Vayikra 1:15, s.v. u-malak)

A question may be raised: All of the sacrifices were slaughtered at the rings located to the
north of the altar, and the slaughter was performed with knives. In what way is the pinching of a
bird’s head different than the slaughter of the rest of the sacrifices?

An answer may be suggested in light of a Talmudic passage in Zevachim (65a):

“And pinch off [its head], and make it smoke [on the altar]” – as making it smoke is done
on the top of the altar, so is pinching done on the top of the altar.

In other words, what is unique about the pinching off of the bird’s head is that it is
performed on the top of the altar. This being the case, argues the Chizkuni, a knife may not be
used, “for if you lift up your sword upon it, you have defiled it.” While it is true that the priest
would not bring the knife itself into contact with the altar, the very fact that he brings it near the
top of the altar is considered as if contact were made with the altar. Therefore, the pinching may
not be performed with a knife, but only with the hands of the priests.

Another interesting ramification of this rule is found in the words of the Rokei’ah (no. 332).
The Rokei’ah discusses a passage in the Mekhilta that brings the words of R. Shimon ben Elazar,
who says that the altar was created to extend man’s life and iron was created to shorten it, and
therefore one is not permitted to wave that which shortens life over that which extends it.
The Rokei’ah concludes from this that one should cover the knife that is on the table while reciting
the Grace after Meals, since the table is treated like an altar (Chagiga 27a).

The Torah Temima (no. 132), in his comment on this passage in the Mekhilta, cites the
words of the Magen Avraham (end of sec. 180), who writes that on Shabbat, one need not cover
the knife, since there is no building in the Temple on Shabbat. He notes that if this is so, then also
at night it should not be necessary to cover the knife, because there is no building in the Temple at
night. Another question that may be raised is why this rule should apply only while reciting the
Grace after Meals. Also, the comparison drawn between the altar and a table for this purpose is
problematic, for if the comparison is valid, then leaven and honey should also not be brought to
the table, just as they may not be brought on the altar!

Rather, the matter of covering the knife is certainly meant merely as an allusion. Just as in
the time of the Temple the altar would atone because the sacrifice is an expression of man’s
gratitude to God, and we find that the word akhila (eating, consumption) is used in connection
with the altar, so too when the righteous eat in order to strengthen themselves so that they may
better serve God and they thank God for what they have eaten, they achieve atonement. But this
does not mean that all the detailed laws governing the altar are applied to a table.

The Altar as a Table

The similarity between the altar and one’s table stems from the fact that the altar consumes
the sacrifices that are offered on it, just like a person eats at his table. Eating is also connected to

26
the atonement that is achieved through the consumption of the offerings, which parallels the
consumption of the food eaten by the person.

This idea is already found in the words of the prophets. Thus, the prophet Yechezkel, in
his description of the future Temple, says:

The altar, three cubits high, and two cubits long was of wood: and it had corners; and its
length and its wall were of wood: and he said to me, “This is the table that is before the
Lord.” (Yechezkel 41:22)

And later:

They shall enter into My sanctuary, and they shall come near to My table, to minister to
Me, and they shall keep My charge. (Yechezkel 44:16)

We similarly find in the words of the prophet Malachi:

You offer disgusting bread upon My altar; and you say, “In what have we polluted You?”
In that you say, “The table of the Lord is contemptible.” (Malachi 1:7)

And in the wake of this, the gemara states:

For it is stated: “The altar, three cubits high, and two cubits long was of wood: and it had
corners; and its length and its wall were of wood: and he said to me, ‘This is the table that
is before the Lord.’” [The verse] begins with the altar and ends with the table! R. Yochanan
and R. Elazar both said: While the Temple still stood, the altar used to make atonement for
a man, but now that the Temple no longer stands, a man’s table makes atonement for
him. (Menachot 97a)

Gazit

Meaning of the Word

The Mekhilta (ad loc.) states:

“You shall not build it of hewn stone (gazit)”. Gazit means trimmed, that an iron tool was
lifted up upon them.

According to this understanding, the word gazit is derived from the root g-z-h, which is
similar to g-z-z, which means cut. The Ibn Ezra offers a similar explanation in his long
commentary:

The word gazit is related to “He went up to his sheep shearers [gozezei]” (Bereishit 38:12);
“And wretchedness, it is soon cut off [gaz]” (Tehillim 90:10); and “Even so they shall be
cut down [nagozu], and it shall pass away” (Nachum 1:12). It means “to cut.” [You must
use] only whole stones, as they were created.

27
The Appearance of the Word in the Bible

In most places, the word is used to describe a grand building. It first appears in connection
with the building of the house of God:

And the king commanded, and they quarried great stones, costly stones, to lay the
foundation of the house with hewn stone. (5:31)

The reference here is clearly to the house, and not to the altar, as it is only the altar that
may not be built with hewn stones, and not the structure of the house itself.

And David commanded to gather together the strangers that were in the land of Israel; and
he set masons to hew hewn stones to build the house of God. (I Divrei Ha-yamim 22:2)

The house of the king:

All these were of costly stones, according to the measures of hewn stones, sawed with
saws, within and without, even from the foundation unto the coping, and so on the outside
unto the great court. (I Melakhim 7:9)

In the Temple of Yechezkel:

Moreover, there were four tables for the burnt-offering, of hewn stone… (Yechezkel 40:42)

The prophet Amos describes a grand building project:

You have built houses of hewn stone, but ye shall not dwell in them. (Amos 5:11)

The prophet Yeshaya compares building with hewn stones to building with bricks:

The bricks are fallen, but we will build with hewn stones; the sycamores are cut down, but cedars
will we put in their place. (Yeshayahu 9:9)

In the book of Eikha:

He has enclosed my ways with hewn stone; He has made my paths crooked. (Eikha 2:9)

Based on the verses dealing with the house of the king, the commentators explain that hewn
stones had a fixed dimension, and therefore the verse refers to “the measures of hewn stones.” In
any event, it is clear that we are dealing with trimmed stones that were used in important buildings:
in the house of God, in the house of the king, and in the private houses of wealthy individuals. It
is clear from the verses that building with hewn stones is more grandiose than building with bricks.

Whole Stones

28
 Whole stones are mentioned in relation to the altar at Mount Eival, both in the Torah’s
command and in the execution in the book of Yehoshua. The command reads:

And there shall you build an altar to the Lord your God, an altar of stones; you shall not
lift up any iron tool upon them. You shall build the altar of the Lord your God of whole
stones; and you shall offer burnt-offerings thereon to the Lord your God. (Devarim 27:5)

And in the execution:

Then Yehoshua built an altar to the Lord, the God of Israel, in Mount Eival, as Moshe the
servant of the Lord commanded the children of Israel, as it is written in the book of the
Torah of Moshe, an altar of whole stones, over which no man lifted up any iron
instrument. (Yehoshua 8:30-31)

The expression even sheleima, “whole stone,” is mentioned in the Torah in another context
as well:

A perfect and just weight (even sheleima)shall you have. (Devarim 25:15)

And in the book of Mishlei it says:

A false balance is an abomination to the Lord; but a perfect weight (even sheleima) is His
delight. (Mishlei 11:1)

It is also mentioned with respect to the house of God built by Shelomo:

For the house, when it was in building, was built of stone (even sheleima)made ready at
the quarry; and there was neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in the house
while it was in building. (I Melakhim 6:7)

Here, too, even sheleima is connected to the building of the Temple and to the absence of the
sounding of iron tools.

Regarding the connection between even sheleima and justice, the Ibn Ezra explains (ad
loc.):

Sheleima – that there be nothing missing. “And a just measure” – that it be like the market
measures. “That your days may be lengthened” – for it is known that every just kingdom
will endure, because justice is like building and perversion is like demolition, the moment
the wall falls.

Ibn Ezra notes the correspondence between justice and building. When a building is
constructed with whole stones that are not defective in any way, it will stand, and therefore the
blessing for observance of the mitzvot is that your days will be extended in the land which the Lord
your God gives you.

29
 The Netziv comments on this verse (s.v. even sheleima ve-tzedek)”:

In addition to being whole for selling and for purchasing (this accords with the prohibition
in Devarim 25:13: “You shall not have in your bag diverse weights, a great and a small”),
it should also be just (that is, its weight should be precisely the weight inscribed upon it),
and when it is just, its reward will come along with it.

The Abravanel cites Ibn Caspi, who offers a different explanation regarding whole stones:

The Holy One, blessed be He, wanted the altar to be built of whole stones, in their natural
form, without being given an artificial form, because natural is superior to artificial. And
therefore the word pasul (carved, disqualified) is used for it, because when something is
removed from its natural wholeness, it is called pasul. Therefore, it says about the second
set of tablets: “And he carved two tablets of stone,” because Moshe carved them, and thus
they were the opposite of the first set which were in their natural form. He therefore
commands that if we make an altar of stones, we should leave them in the form that they
were given by wise nature, because all natural things necessarily reflect the wisdom of
God.

Unlike those commentators who connect the idea of whole stones to justice, Ibn Caspi
emphasizes that a whole stone is in its natural state, untouched by human hands, and that things in
their natural state are superior to things that were processed by man.

The altar should express the divine natural world, and its construction by man comes to
connect human endeavor to God. Therefore, the altar is built with whole, natural stones, as they
were created and untouched by man.

This understanding is consistent with the words of Ibn Ezra quoted above:

Whole stones, as they were created.

Regarding the stones used in the house of God constructed by Shelomo, R. Yehuda and R.
Nechemya disagree in the gemara (Sota 48b) whether or not the stones were split with the shamir,
a worm which tradition relates had the power of splitting the hardest
stone. The mishna in Avot (5:6) counts the shamir among the ten things that were created on
Friday evening at dusk. On the other hand, the mishna in Sota 9:12 states: “When the Temple was
destroyed, the shamir ceased.”

The gemara in Sota defines shamir as follows:

Our Rabbis taught: The shamir is a creature about the size of a barley-corn and was created
during the six days of Creation. No hard substance can withstand it…
We may not write with ink upon these stones, because it is said: “Like the engravings of a
signet,” nor cut into them with a knife because it is said: “In their settings.” But he writes
with ink upon them, shows the shamir [the written strokes] on the outside, and these split

30
 of their own accord, like a fig which splits open in summer and nothing at all is lost, or like
a valley which splits asunder in the rainy season and nothing at all is lost. (48b)

The gemara brings a dispute between R. Yehuda and R. Nechemya:

Our Rabbis taught: With the shamir Shelomo built the Temple, as it is stated: “And the
house, when it was in building, was built of stone made ready at the quarry.” The words
are to be understood as they are written; such is the statement of R. Yehuda. Rabbi
Nechemya asked him: Is it possible to say so? Has it not been stated: “All these were of
costly stones… sawed with saws”? If that be so, why is there a text to state: “There was
neither hammer, nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in the house, while it was in the
building”? [It means] that they prepared them outside and brought them within. Rabbi said:
The statement of R. Yehuda is ”robable in connection with the stones of the Sa“ctuary, and
the statement of R. Nechemya in connection with Shelomo’s house.

According to this gemara, the shamir was a creature that allowed Shelomo to build the
Temple without hewing the stones. In this way, the Torah’s command not to build the altar with
hewn stones was fulfilled in a miraculous manner.

In this shiur, we began our study of the prohibition against raising an iron tool over the
stones of the altar. In the next shiur, we shall consider the spiritual meaning of this prohibition.10

[1] We have dealt with a detailed description of the stone altar found on Mount Eival. We will address this issue in a future shiur.
[2] The manner in which this commandment was executed in the First and Second Temples will be discussed below.

10
Translated by David Strauss

31
 The Altar at Home

ISMAR SCHORSCH WRITES:11

I have a deeply personal attachment to parashat Vayikra. Many years ago it was the parasha on
which my son celebrated his bar-mitzva. Though he attended a day school, I prepared him for the
occasion as my father had once prepared me, and as my son will one day prepare his children. For
half a year, I would corral him regularly to teach him the Torah portion according to the eastern
European cantillation common in American and the haftara according to the uncommon German
cantillation on which I was raised. Far more musical than I, my son learned easily and rendered
both on his bar-mitzva at high speed without a hitch. The ritual added yet another bond between
my son and me and between my son and his grandfather. For on that Shabbat morning it was my
father who addressed my son with words of prophetic intensity. To me the joining of the
generations symbolized the renewal of an ancient covenant.

At first blush, our parasha seems to bear little relevance to contemporary Jews or their families.
To be sure, it deals with the hunger for the holy of the individual Israelite. The Tabernacle is more
than the domain of the priests and the official cult. It is also the sacred space in which a grateful
or troubled Israelite might seek God’s blessing or forgiveness with a voluntary sacrifice, even as
paltry as a grain offering bereft of all meat. Indeed, with great sensitivity, the Talmud opines that
the grain offering (minha)was instituted to give the poor access to the holy. If every sacrifice
required an animal, how many Israelites of modest means would ever be able to approach the altar!
It is for this reason that the Torah noticeably chooses to employ the noun “nefesh” [soul] and not
“adam” [person] in the case of a grain offering: “When a person [nefesh] presents an offering of
grain to the Lord (Leviticus 2:1)….” Because of the heavy cost, the grain offering of a poor farmer
is accepted by God as the veritable offering of his soul. It is the equivalent of a meat sacrifice
(B.T. Menahot 104b)!

What interests me for the moment, however, is what became of the altar in Jewish consciousness
after the destruction of the Second Temple. The Rabbis transposed it metaphorically into another
sacred key: the Jewish home. The altar became the table at which the family gathered to eat its
common meals. It is the consumption of food which connects the two institutions. Thus Rabbis
Yohanan and Resh Lakish in third century Palestine conceived it to be a locus for reconciliation.
“In the days of the Temple, the altar served to atone for us; now it is our table that atones for us
(B.T. Hagiga 27a).” Rashi, in his comment on their assertion, suggests that the atonement is
affected by inviting guests to our table, that is, in repairing our relations with people outside the
family.

But I suspect that there are enough strains and rifts within the family fabric to warrant repairing.
Atonement begins at home. I take the counsel of Rabbi Yohanan and Resh Lakish to mean that

11
https://www.jtsa.edu/torah/the-altar-at-home/

32
mealtime is to be used to reach out to loved ones, to share ideas and experiences, to show
understanding and compassion.

It is even a time to bring God into our frenetic lives. The conversation around our surrogate altar
is to be illumined with flashes of eternity. According to Rabbi Shimon: “Whenever three people
dine at a table without any words of Torah, it is as if they had consumed the meat of the dead [i.e.
a sacrifice to a false god] (Pirkei Avot 3:4).” Again the link between the Temple and our table is
alluded to. A meal stripped of Torah remains a purely physical activity.

The link is still more concrete. At our tables we never break bread without a tad of salt. After the
motzi we sprinkle a few grains of salt on the bread before eating it. The custom, which seems to
be of medieval Ashkenazic provenance (Shulhan Aruch O.H. 167:5), rests on the ancient practice
of applying salt to every sacrifice offered in the Temple, even a grain offering, as we read in our
parasha: “You shall season your every offering of meal with salt; you shall not omit from your
meal offering the salt of your covenant with God; with all your offerings you must offer
salt (Leviticus 2:13).”

Professor Jacob Milgrom points out in his endlessly fascinating commentary on Leviticus (Anchor
Bible, p. 191) that “salt was the preservative par excellence in antiquity. A figurative extension of
its preservative properties is the reference to the apostles as ‘the salt of the earth (Matthew 5:17),’
in other words, teachers who guard the world against moral decay. Moreover, its preservative
qualities made it the ideal symbol of the perdurability of a covenant.” By the Middle Ages,
Ashkenazic Jews saw in the salt on their tables not only a symbol of the Temple but also a
protective agent against Satan and his minions.

But an altar needs to be set in sacred surroundings. If our homes are saturated with mundane and
material concerns, our meals will never be touched by the holy. The basic creed of Judaism, the
Shema Yisrael, mandates parents to be the primary religious teachers of their children by word
and example, formally and informally, at any time of day. Beyond articulating the task, the Shema
also sets forth a program by which we can prepare ourselves.

First, we must come to love God. Without that emotional underpinning, we can transmit nothing
effectively. Our passion is the seedbed of our persuasiveness. Second, we must take God’s words
to heart intellectually. Through study and reflection, we will come to understand the protean texts,
ideas, and practices of Judaism. We can teach cogently only what we have internalized, subjected
to our own insights and formulation.

And finally, our emotional and intellectual preparation must be complemented by performance.
This is the force of the injunction to “bind them as a sign on your hand…inscribe them on the
doorposts of your house (Deuteronomy 6:8-9).” If our homes reverberate with Jewish art and
music, with Jewish deeds and ritual, with Jewish books and videos, then not only will our tables
be an altar but the repeated moments of our teachings, laden with warmth and wisdom, will stand
a chance of transforming our children into lifelong Jews.

33
 Julie Wohl Creations

The Dining Room Table — How One Can Take It With Him

Rav Yissochor Frand writes:12

There is a fascinating Rabbeinu Bachaye in this week’s parsha. On the section dealing with the
Shulchon – Table [Shemos 25:23-30] he goes through the symbolism of the Table and the “Show
Breads” that were put on the Table. Then he says — al derech haMedrash — that the term Shittim
(acacia wood, from which the Table was made) is an acronym for Shalom, Tova, Yeshua, Mechila
(Peace, Good, Salvation, Forgiveness). He points out that the Aron and the Altar were likewise
made of acacia wood (Shittim) for the same reason.

Rabbeinu Bachaye is saying is that all gifts — represented by Peace, Good, Salvation, and
Forgiveness — that the Jewish people received during the time of the Temple, came about through
the conduit of the vessels of the Temple.

12
https://torah.org/torah-portion/ravfrand-5758-terumah/

34
Rabbeinu Bachaye goes on to ask that this is all fine and good while the Temple was standing —
we had all these utensils to provide us with these wonderful blessings — but what do we have
going for us now that we have been in Exile for 2000 years? He quotes a famous Talmudic passage
“Now that the Temple is no longer standing a person receives atonement through his table”
[Chagiga 27a]. What is our “Table” that atones for us now that we don’t have a Temple? Our
dining room table.

What a person does with his dining room table — if he feeds the poor and welcomes in the bride
and he does acts of kindness — that is his altar of atonement. When one sits at his Shabbos table
and is surrounded by others with whom he is sharing his bounty, his table becomes his altar of
atonement.

Finally, Rabbeinu Bachaye goes on to say an awesome thing: “It is a custom of the pious people
in France to use the wood from their dining room table to build their coffins for burial.”

Think about the imagery. A man spends many occasions and has many meals with his friend
around his dining room table. Then he goes to his friend’s funeral, and he sees him being buried
in the same wood that was his dining room table!

The purpose of this custom — says Rabbeinu Bachaye — was to teach that a person will take
nothing with him to the World of Truth except for the charity that he gave in his life and the
goodness that he shared around his table. The charity, the guests, the widows, the orphans, the
Baale Teshuva that one has fed and the influence that one dispenses around his dining room table
is all that he takes with him.

Our Rabbis said [Berochos 54b] “One who has a long table (ha’Marich b’shulchano) will have
long days and long years”. When I was in England I went to see Windsor Castle where the Queen
lives on week- ends. In this palace was the longest dining room table I have ever seen in my life
— seventy-five chairs around it! That is not what the Rabbis were talking about.
What the Rabbis were speaking about was not the length of the table but what one does around it.
Rav Chavel brings in the footnote to Rabbeinu Bachaye a work called Sifsei Kohain who says that
the acronym of ShLChaN (table) are Shamur Likevura Chessed Nideevosecha (Saved for your
burial are the kindness of your generosity). The table is the altar of atonement for our generation
— only Kindness and Truth accompany us to the True World.

35
 IDENTIFYING THE TALMUDIC SALAMANDER

Jeremy Brown writes:13

There is in fact a European species of salamander called the Fire Salamander (Salamandra
salamandra) which has bright markings that serve to warn predators that it is poisonous (and that
they should therefore leave it alone). But this cannot be the salamander referred to in the Talmud
because it is found in central and southern Europe, and not in the Middle East where the Talmud
was written.

The talmudic salamander is the Near Eastern Fire Salamander, found in Israel, Iran, Iraq, Syria,
and Lebanon. Here is a picture of one, taken on Mt. Carmel near Haifa.

13
https://www.talmudology.com/jeremybrownmdgmailcom/2017/9/10/sanhedrin-63a-the-fireproof-salamnder-dl9ee

36
 The Near Eastern Fire Salamander, (Salamandra infraimmaculata)

The salamander is an amphibian that can grow up to thirteen inches in length and feeds on insects
and larva. According to Dr Michael Warburg from the Technion, they can live for up to twenty
years. He knows this because he visited the same pond on the top of Mt. Carmel for twenty-five
years (!) and published a paper titled "Longevity in Salamandra infraimmaculata from Israel with
a partial review of life expectancy in urodeles." And what was the name of the journal in which it
was published I hear you ask. Good question. It was Salamandra. Of course it was.

Salamanders live near ponds and streams, though they spend most of their adult lives out of the
water. They can exude a toxin when threatened, which can cause skin irritation but not much
more. Since they do not have lungs they breathe through their skin, which must be kept moist. And
Dr. Warburg, the Technion salamander specialist, informs us that they lay their eggs in water. Not
in furnaces. So from where did the rabbis of the Talmud get the ideas that they were fireproof
creatures, born from the within flames? They got it from the surrounding cultures which had
similar stories about the origins of the salamander.

THE FIREPROOF SALAMANDER IN OTHER CULTURES

According to the explorer Marco Polo (d.1324) the name of the creature comes from the Persian
words Sam meaning "fire," and Andar and meaning "within." The Roman historian Pliny the Elder
(23-79 CE) wrote that the salamander was "so intensely cold as to extinguish fire by its contact,
in the same way as ice does" which demonstrates that the fireproof salamander story goes back to
long before the talmudic period. The legend is also found in the writings of Saint Isidore of Seville
(560-636 AD) who lived around the time that the Talmud was redacted.

37
“The Salamander is so called because it is strong against fire....It fights against fires and alone
among living things, extinguishes them. For it lives in the midst of flames without pain and without
being consumed and not only is not burned, but it puts the fire out.14

The legend is also found some unusual contemporary places. In Ray Bradbury's dystopian novel
Fahrenheit 451, books are banned, and firemen don't have the job of putting out fires. Instead, they
are tasked with burning any books that are found. Do you recall the name of their firetrucks? That's
right - they were called Salamanders.

The firemen also had an official symbol, which was, naturally, a salamander.

We know that an idea has deeply embedded itself in popular culture when it appears in The
Simpsons. And in an episode called See Homer Run, Homer takes a job as The Safety Salamander,
teaching school children about fire safety. And what does Homer need to wear for the job? A
salamander suits. Of course.

14
An Encyclopedist of the Dark Ages; Isidore of Seville, by Ernest Brehaut, Columbia University 1912, p228

38
 From See Homer Run, in The Simpsons Season 17 Episode 6

But that's fiction. Take a look at the logo of the International Association of Heat and Frost
Workers below. It is a salamander over a fire, happily insulating some pipes.

Logo of the International Association of Heat and Frost Insulators and Allied Workers. It's a
salamander over a fire and insulating some pipes.

39
EVIDENCE TO THE CONTRARY

So the talmudic legend of the fire-proof salamander is a Jewish version of a legend found in
contemporary Roman and Christian lore - a legend that still reverberates today. But although the
Roman Pliny recounted the myth, he was also skeptical of it. There are numerous references on
the internet which tell of Pliny throwing a salamander onto a fire, to see what would happen. The
salamander died. But I cannot find a primary source for this story (please let me know if you find
one), so let's go with Pliny's observations from his work Natural History:

As to what the magicians say that it is proof against fire, being, as they tell us, the only animal
that has the property of extinguishing fire, if it had been true, it would have been made trial of
at Rome long before this. Sextius says that the salamander, preserved in honey and taken with
the food, after removing the intestines, head, and feet, acts as an aphrodisiac: he denies also
that it has the property of extinguishing fire.

We will leave the aphrodisiac properties of the salamander for another time and focus instead on
Pliny's observation that a simple test will confirm or falsify the legend. All you need are a couple
of salamanders and a fire...which is also not an experiment too many of us would have the heart to
do. But the Christian scholar, Pierius (d ~309) did. In his work, cited by the British polymath Sir
Thomas Browne Pierius wrote

Whereas it is commonly said that a Salamander extinguisheth the fire, we have found by
experience, that it is so far from quenching hot coals, that it dieth immediately therein.

And that should settle the matter. Rabbi Dr. Natan Slifkin did not throw a salamander into a fire,
but he did accidentally leave one rather too close to a heat lamp, which is, I suppose, the next best
thing. "I myself once found a fire salamander which I kept in a vivarium" he wrote in his
fascinating book Sacred Monsters, "and when I accidentally left a heater too close to its cage, the
salamander did not so much escape unscathed, as shrivel up into a withered corpse!"

A FIREPROOF NEWT? SORTA

Rabbi Dr. Slifkin also references a report from a 1997 edition of Herpetological Review (All
Amphibians, all of the time!) from a Mark Stromberg at the Hastings Natural History Reservation
in California (part of UC Berkeley).

He reported seeing the California Newt (Taricha Torosa) moving over the unburned litter in front
of a controlled fire that had been burning for at least three hours. Then comes this:

40
This report is fascinating15, but hardly proves that salamanders are fireproof. At best, newts may
have the ability to delay the brief harmful effects of a forest fire (which would certainly make
evolutionary sense).

AN EXPLANATION

Dr Warburg, the salamander guy from the Technion, noted in his paper that the salamander only
spends about 1.25% of its adult life-time in ponds. The rest of the time it lives in rotting logs and
leaf litters. This might explain the origin of the legend. When our ancestors, be they
Jewish, Roman, or Christian would gather logs and kindling to light a fire, they might inadvertently
sweep up a salamander or two with them. When these leaves and logs were set alight, the
salamanders would scuttle out of the fire as quickly as they could, and ta-da, it looks like they were
born from the flames. Perhaps that is how this whole salamander fire thing started.

The legend of the fireproof salamander is almost 2,000 years old, and certainly predates the
Mishnah and Talmud. It's a great story to tell around a campfire at night. Just don't be surprised if
you see a salamander emerging, unscathed, from the ashes.

15
ps://static1.squarespace.com/static/54694fa6e4b0eaec4530f99d/t/59bb085059cc68cfd24c97a4/1505429597685/Herpetological+
review+28.pdf

41
 SALAMANDER (Greek, σαλαμάνδρα)

Ludwig Blau write:16

According to the Talmud, a species of toad which lives on land but enters the water at the breeding
season (Ḥul. 127a; Lewysohn, "Z. T." §§ 277, 278). It generally appears, however, as a fabulous
animal, generated in fire and perishing in air, this being the view concerning it held by R. Akiba
himself (Sifra, ed. Weiss, p. 52b; Ḥul. 127a). God showed the animal to Moses in fire (Ex. R. xv.
28); and when glass-blowers stoke their furnace unceasingly for seven days and seven nights, the
great heat produces a creature which is like a mouse (or spider), and which is called a salamander.
If one smears his hand or any other part of his body with its blood, the spot is proof against fire;
for the animal is created of fire (Tan., Wayesheb, 3). When King Manasseh was about to sacrifice
Hezekiah to Moloch, the child's mother anointed her son with the blood of a salamander, that the
fire might not injure him (Sanh. 63b; "Z. D. M. G." xxviii. 15). The fire of hell does not harm the
scribes, since they are all fire, like the Torah; and if flames cannot hurt one who is anointed with
salamander blood, still less can they injure the scribes (Ḥag., end).
The name "salamander" itself indicates the adoption of a foreign belief by the Jews. According to
Aristotle, "At Cyprus, where the stone chalcites [a kind of copper ore] is heated for several days,
winged creatures, somewhat larger than our housefly, appear in the midst of the fire, walking and

16
https://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/13016-salamander

42
flying through it, but dying immediately on leaving the flame. The salamander shows that certain
animals are naturally proof against fire, for it is said to extinguish a flame by passing through it"
("Historia Animalium," v. 19; Lewysohn, l.c. § 279). Akiba likewise speaks of animals other than
the salamander which are generated in fire, while Pliny declares ("Historia Naturalis," x. 68, 87)
that the salamander does not propagate by copulation, and that, like ice, it extinguishes fire by
touching it.
While the fire, according to the Midrash, need burn only seven days and seven nights to produce
a salamander, Rashi says that it requires seven years (Ḥag.), and the 'Aruk (s.v.) postulates seventy
years. The trend toward magic appears, furthermore, in the statement that myrtle wood is required
for the fire.
The Zohar (ii. 211b) even mentions garments of salamander skin; and this legend is found in non-
Jewish sources also. According to Grässe ("Beiträge zur Litteratur und Sage des Mittelalters," p.
81, Dresden, 1850), "The poets, e.g., Titurel (ch. xl. 341), say that cloth of gold is woven from
salamanders, and Marco Polo (Latin. translation, ch. xlv.) says that at Rome there is a cloth of the
same material as that from which the salamander is made" (comp. Jellinek, "Beiträge zur Gesch.
der Kabbala," i. 48, Leipsic, 1852).
A recipe in Hebrew, though termed Hindu, and in which salamander is the chief ingredient, is
quoted by Steinschneider ("Pseudepigraphische Litteratur," p. 88, Berlin, 1862; see also Grunwald,
"Mitteilungen," v. 10, 47; Wuttke, "Deutscher Volksaberglaube der Gegenwart," 3d ed., § 714).
On the salamander as the elemental spirit of fire in the Middle Ages see "Brockhaus
Konversations-Lexikon," 14th ed., vi. 14, s.v. "Elementargeister."

Bibliography
• Lewysohn, Z. T. §§ 278-280, Frankfort-on-the-Main, 1858;
• Krauss, Lehnwörter, ii. 395, with bibliography by I. Löw.

43
 Spotted Salamander, Ambystoma maculatum

Salamander is a common name of approximately 500 species of amphibians. They are typically
characterized by a superficially lizard-
17
like appearance, with their slender bodies, short noses, and long tails. All known fossils and ext
inct species fall under the order Caudata, while sometimes the extant species are grouped togeth
er as the Urodela.

Most salamanders have four toes on their front legs and five on their rear legs. Their moist skin u
sually makes them reliant on habitats in or near water, or under some protection (e.g., moist grou
nd), often in a wetland. Some salamander species are fully aquatic throughout life, some take to t
he water intermittently, and some are entirely terrestrial as adults. Unique among vertebrates, the
y are capable of regenerating lost limbs, as well as other body parts.
•
Physical characteristics

17
https://en-academic.com/dic.nsf/enwiki/18277

44
Mature salamanders generally have an ancestral tetrapod body form with a cylindrical trunk, four
limbs and a long tail. Some species such as sirens and amphiumas have reduced or absent hindli
mbs, giving them a more el
like appearance. Most species have four clawless toes on the forelimbs and five on the hind limb
s. The skin lacks scales and is moist and smooth to the touch, except in newts of the Salamandrid
ae which may have velvety or warty skin that is dry to the touch. The skin may be drab or brightl
y colored, exhibiting various patterns of stripes, bars, spots, blotches, or dots. Male newts becom
e dramatically colored during the breeding season. Cave species dwelling in darkness lack pigme
ntation and have a translucent pink or pearlescent appearance.

Salamanders range in size from the minute salamanders, with a total length of 2.7 centimetres (1.
1 in), including the tail, to the Chinese giant salamander which reaches 1.8 metres (5.9 ft) and we
ighs up to 65 kg (140 lb). Most, however, are between 10 centimetres (3.9 in) and 20 centimetres
(7.9 in) in length.

A fire salamander in Mount Olympus National Park, Greece

Physiology

Respiration differs among the different species of salamanders. Species that lack lungs respire thr
ough gills. In most cases, these are external gills, visible as tufts on either side of the head, althou
gh the amphiumas have internal gills and gill slits. Some salamanders that are terrestrial have lun
gs that are used in respiration, although these are simple and saclike, unlike the more complex or
gans found in mammals. Many species, such as the olm, have both lungs and gills as adults.

Some terrestrial species lack both lungs and gills and perform gas exchange through their skin, a
process known as valerian respiration in which the capillary beds are spread throughout the epide
rmis, and inside the mouth. Even some species with lungs can respire through the skin in this ma
nner.

45
The skin of salamanders secretes mucus, which helps keep the animal moist when on dry land, a
nd maintains their salt balance while in water, as well as providing a lubricant during swimming.
Salamanders also secrete poison from glands in their skin, and some additionally have skin gland
s for secreting courtship pheromones.
Salamanders regularly shed the outer layer of their skin (the epidermis) as they grow, and then ea
t the resulting slough.

Feeding

Terrestrial salamanders catch their prey by rapidly extending a sticky tongue which adheres to th
e prey, allowing it to be pulled into the mouth. In combination with tongue movements, salaman
ders may lunge forward and grasp prey with their jaws, securing them with small teeth on the ma
rgins of their jaws.

In the lungless salamanders, muscles surrounding the hyoid bone contract to create pressure and
actually "shoot" the hyoid bone out of the mouth along with the tongue. The tip of the tongue is c
omposed of a mucus which creates a sticky end to which the prey is captured. Muscles in the pel
vic region are used in order to reel the tongue and the hyoid back to its original position.

Many of the highly aquatic species, however, have no muscles in the tongue, and do not use it fo
r capturing prey, while most other species have a mobile tongue, but without the adaptations to th
e hyoid bone. Most species of salamander have small teeth in both the upper and lower jaws. Unl
ike frogs, even the larvae of salamanders possess these teeth.

To find their prey, salamanders use trichromatic color vision in the ultraviolet range based on tw
o photoreceptor types maximally sensitive around 450 nm, 500 nm and 570 nm.[5] Permanently s
ubterranean salamanders have reduced eyes, which may even be covered by a layer of skin.

The larvae, and the adults of some highly aquatic species, also have a lateral line organ, similar t
o that of fish, which can detect changes in water pressure. Salamanders have no external ear, and
only a vestigial middle ear.

Defense

Some salamander species use tail autotomy to escape predators. The tail will drop off and wriggl
e around for a little while, and the salamanders will either run away or stay still enough to not be
noticed while the predator is distracted. Salamanders routinely regenerate complex tissues. Withi
n only a few weeks of losing a piece of limb, a salamander perfectly reforms the missing structur
e. They can also produce a white milky substance that is poisonous.

Distribution

Salamanders split off from the other amphibians during the Mid to Late Permian, and initially we
re similar to modern members of the Cryptobranchoidea. Their resemblance to lizards is the resul
t of symplesiomorphy, their common retention of the primitive tetrapod body plan, and they are

46
no more closely related to lizards than they are to mammals – or to birds for that matter. Their ne
arest relatives are the frogs and toads, within Batrachia.

Caudates are found on all continents except for Australia, Antarctica, and most of Africa. One-
third of the known salamander species are found in North America. The highest concentration of
these is found in the Appalachian Mountains region. Species of salamander are numerous and fo
und in most moist or arid habitats in the northern hemisphere. They usually live in or near brooks
, creeks, ponds, and other moist locations.

Development

The life history of salamanders is similar to that of other amphibians such as frogs and toads. Mo
st species fertilize the eggs internally, with the male depositing a sac of sperm in the female's clo
aca. The most primitive salamanders – those grouped together as the Cryptobranchoidea – instea
d exhibit external fertilisation. The eggs are laid in a moist environment, often a pond, but someti
mes moist soil, or inside bromeliads. Some species are ovoviviparous, with the female retaining t
he eggs inside her body until they hatch.

A larval stage follows in which the organism is fully aquatic or land dwellingand possesses gills.
Depending on species, the larval stage may or may not possess legs. The larval stage may last an
ything from days to years, depending on the species. Some species (such as Dunn's Salamander)
exhibit no larval stage at all, with the young hatching as miniature versions of the adult.

Neoteny has been observed in all salamander families, in which an individual may retain gills int
o sexual maturity. This may be universally possible in all salamander species.[7] More commonly
, however, metamorphosis continues with the loss of gills, the growth (or increase in size) of legs
, and the capability of the animal to function.

Declining populations

A general decline in living amphibian species, caused by the fungal disease chytridiomycosis, ha
shad a significant effect on the salamander as well. While researchers have not yet found a direct
link between the fungus and the population decline, they do believe it has played a role. Research
ers also cite deforestation and climate change as possible contributing factors. This is based on su
rveys conducted in Guatemala during the 1970s as well as recently.

Especially affected were Pseudoeurycea brunnata and Pseudoeurycea goebeli, both of which wer
e abundant during the 1970s.

Taxonomy

There are ten families belonging to the order Caudata, divided into three suborders.
The clade Neocaudata is often used to separate Cryptobranchoidea and Salamandroidea from the
Sirenoidea.

47
 Earth, Wind, and Fire Salamanders
Fire Salamanders’ unusual connection to pharmacy18

Many of the world’s salamander species live in North America and spring is when these
amphibians are most active – and more likely to be seen. The best-known salamander in human
history, however, is a European species. This is the Fire Salamander, Salamandra salamandra,
which is strikingly patterned in black and yellow. It’s also strikingly present in the annals of
mythology and magic.

The ancient Greeks thought salamanders could pass through fire unharmed. This is probably
because the animals would scoot out from under bark when wood was tossed on the fire. So in the
elemental earth/air/water/fire scheme of classical thought, which was later reincarnated in
Hermetic and alchemical theory, the salamander became the spirit of fire. There are echoes of this
symbolism still: the salamander is an icon of pharmacy in Holland, and in the alchemy of the
professional kitchen, a “salamander” is a broiler.

18
https://daily.jstor.org/earth-wind-and-fire-salamanders/

48
In Pharmacy in History, D.C.A. Hillman notes there are some 90 references to salamanders in
classical texts. He concentrates on Nicander of Colophon, who flourished in the 2nd century BCE.
In his encyclopedic verse treatises on poisons and anti-toxins in the animal and plant world,
Nicander recommended against drinking the fire-proof salamander, or “sorcerer’s lizard.” Fire
salamanders produce a neurotoxic alkaloid now called samandarine, which can cause death by
respiratory paralysis, so Nicander was onto something. The animals secrete the stuff, but they can
also actually spray it from skin glands when threatened. Given all this, Hillman wonders if in fact
the Greeks really drank salamander, or concoctions thereof, and if so, why.

He concludes that Nicander was actually warning against accidentally tossing a salamander into
the cooking pot along with local plants. Fair enough. But consider “Salamander brandy”: this is
purported to be a folk concoction in Slovenia to this day. It’s supposedly made by drowning fire
salamanders in alcohol, which seems a waste of both salamanders and alcohol.

49
 Monster of the Week: Salamander

BEX SHEA WRITES:19

Well, this post is a little different from some of my past entries on real animals, like spiders or
tarantula hawks – those posts are about real-life traits of real-life animals that happen to be
monstrous. This post is about a made-up trait of a real-life animal.

That’s right. I’m putting salamander myths in the hot seat.

There’s a longstanding myth that salamanders can survive very hot temperatures – or even handle
being on fire without breaking a sweat. Sometimes the legend goes as far as to say that salamanders
are born of fire.

This myth shows up all over pop culture. Look at Charmander, a “fire lizard” Pokémon – we’ll let
the lizard vs. amphibian issue slide, because that’s pretty low on Pokémon’s suspension of
disbelief scale. Harry Potter’s Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (the book, not movie)
states that salamanders live in fire. That’s only one of many fantasy stories to borrow this idea,
and it’s far from the first. Likewise, many fantasy games include fiery salamanders as enemies –
the very first edition of Dungeons and Dragons, for example, says that their human-lizard hybrid
salamanders are from the elemental plane of fire.

So where does the story come from?

The earliest recorded culprit is Pliny the Elder. He’s one of the usual suspects for weird monster
legends that trace back to the first century AD. Pliny actually recorded some zoological
observations that were ahead of his time – for example, he correctly identified that salamanders
were different from lizards. However, he put creatures like gryphons and cyclopes in his Natural
History alongside, you know, giraffes, lions, and other things you might actually expect to see at
a zoo.

You can see how that might have caused some confusion.

The Romans are far from the only ancient culture to associate salamanders with fire, though.
Several centuries before Pliny made these claims, Aristotle confirmed that fire-proof salamanders
were a rumor among Greeks at the time. The Talmud also claims that salamanders are born from
fire, and their blood can be used as a ward against burning.

But let’s get back to those Greeks, because another one of their early philosophies added fuel to
the fire – uh, so to speak.

19
http://bexshea.com/2016/09/14/monster-of-the-week-salamander/

50
You may be familiar with the ancient Greek idea that all matter is composed of four elements –
earth, air, fire, and water. It’s another theme that’s absolutely everywhere in pop culture. Well,
that philosophy was still going strong during the Renaissance many years later. A sixteenth century
alchemist named Paracelsus decided that there’s a single elemental being that embodies the traits
of each elemental force. Earth had gnomes, air had sylphs, water had undines.

For fire, it was salamanders.

Now, salamanders have the unique distinction among that group of also being real animals. As
opposed to, say, lawn ornaments, or spear-wielding fish girls.

But that wasn’t necessarily an advantage for living, breathing salamanders.

The scientific method may have been a long way off, but the curious minds of the medieval and
Renaissance eras had gotten as far as the “experiment” part. That meant people tossing innocent
amphibians into the flames to see if they really could survive in fire.

Presumably, some did. For a few seconds.

You might think this kind of thing would dispel the myths, but they stayed strong. Even Leonardo
da Vinci claimed that salamanders could sustain themselves off of fire instead of, you know, a
digestive system.

Why did these myths stick around for so long?

In part, it could just be that the cultural stories about salamanders have been around so long that
they stayed around. Even now, when we have scientific evidence that salamanders are normal
amphibians and not magic fire spirits, we suspend disbelief to tell fantasy stories about them.

But until more critical scientific methods came about, plenty of observers actually thought
they had evidence of fire-dwelling salamanders. The most likely origin of the story comes from
salamander real estate practices: they like to hang out in rotting logs. You know – the kind that
you might decide to burn if you were making a campfire.

People picked up these logs and didn’t see the camouflaged, sleeping amphibians. Set the house
on fire? They’re going to come running out.

As far as the fire-builders knew, the salamanders really did appear from the flames.

So… good thing we’ve got that scientific method thing, or we might still be chucking them into
bonfires.

Salamanders aren’t really monstrous in a philosophical sense – either in real life or in their fiery
mythical incarnations – but the myths sure are strange and exciting. It’s a nice change of pace to
have a supposedly mythical creature around that you can really go out and look at, even if you

51
won’t see it doing anything supernatural. Kind of like the cats have nine lives thing turned up a
notch.

What? Not all of these posts have to be scary. Sometimes it’s nice to appreciate our species’s
ability to find magic in the mundane. Or condemn our ancestors’ pre-scientific superstitions and
tall tales.

Take your pick.

Fantastically Wrong: The Legend of the Homicidal Fire-Proof

Salamander

MATT SIMON WRITES:20

20
https://www.wired.com/2014/08/fantastically-wrong-homicidal-salamander/

52
In the first century AD, Roman naturalist Pliny the Elder threw a salamander into a fire. He
wanted to see if it could indeed not only survive the flames, but extinguish them, as Aristotle
had claimed such creatures could. But the salamander didn’t … uh … make it. Yet that didn’t
stop the legend of […]

A salamander relaxing in a fire, just minding its own business, is rudely prodded by a
shirtless man. "A salamander lives in the fire, which imparts to it a most glorious
hue," reads the caption. Welcome to the wonderful world of alchemy.

IN THE FIRST century AD, Roman naturalist Pliny the Elder threw a salamander into a fire.
He wanted to see if it could indeed not only survive the flames, but extinguish them, as Aristotle
had claimed such creatures could. But the salamander didn’t … uh … make it.

Yet that didn’t stop the legend of the fire-proof salamander (a name derived from the Persian
meaning “fire within”) from persisting for 1,500 more years, from the Ancient Romans to the
Middle Ages on up to the alchemists of the Renaissance. Some even believed it was born in fire,
like the legendary Phoenix, only slimier and a bit less dramatic. And that its fur (huh?) could be
used to weave fire-resistant garments.

53
Part of the problem, it seems, is that in addition to disproving the salamander’s powers, Pliny
also wrote extensively that it had such powers—and then some. His Natural History, which has
survived over the centuries as a towering catalog of everything from mining to
zoology, describes the salamander as such: “It is so chilly that it puts out fire by its contact, in
the same way as ice does. It vomits from its mouth a milky slaver [saliva], one touch of which
on any part of the human body causes all the hair to drop off, and the portion touched changes
its color and breaks out in a letter,” a sort of itchy skin disease.

Medieval bestiaries—encyclopedias that cataloged life on Earth—propagated

the myth that salamanders love carrots. Are those carrots? Maybe they're
flames.

Some 500 years later, Saint Isidore of Seville wrote that while other poisonous animals strike
their victims individually, the salamander slays “very many at the same time; for if it crawls up
a tree, it infects all the fruit with poison and slays those who eat it; nay, even if it falls in a well,
the power of the poison slays those who drink it.” He also confirmed that it's immune to the
effects of fire.

So right away the salamander was mythologized as both a miraculous survivor and a menace.
Indeed, later on in the 1200s, an English writer told of one laying waste to Alexander the Great’s
army simply by swimming in a river they drank from. All told, 4,000 soldiers and 2,000 horses

54
supposedly perished after consuming the salamander’s dirty bath water. Which would be pretty
embarrassing, if only it were true.

Now, it was likely Europe’s fire salamander, with its vivid yellow-on-black coloration, that
served as the inspiration for the legend, according to Nosson Slifkin in his book Sacred
Monsters. As you might assume from its conspicuous colors, this species is in fact quite
poisonous, secreting a neurotoxin to deter predators. And if it doesn’t feel like waiting to be
attacked, it can actually fire this secretion at its approaching enemies. While the toxin can cause
skin irritation in humans, it’s far from capable of poisoning 4,000 soldiers. But it’s likely this
poisonous nature was simply scaled up for such myths.

Salamandra and the Flames of Hell

Reuven Chaim Klein writes:21

21
https://www.academia.edu/1160220/Salamandra_and_the_Flames_of_Hell

55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
 Sir Thomas Browne
(1646; 6th ed., 1672) Pseudodoxia Epidemica
III.xiv (pp. 153-154)22

22
http://penelope.uchicago.edu/pseudodoxia/pseudo314.html

65
66
67
68
Unicorns, mermaids, dragons, and phoenixes may feel at home in fantasy literature, but
references to these and other mysterious creatures go back much further in history. The Bible,
Talmud, and Midrash refer to many such strange creatures. In this beautifully designed and
richly illustrated book, Natan Slifkin, the famed "zoo rabbi" examines a host of mythic and not
so mythic creatures from both their Torah descriptions and modern zoological research, giving
us a new perspective on the interface between science, myth, and Torah thought. Rabbi Slifkin
explores conflicts between the Talmudand science in the context of Torah mysteries of zoology.

The Talmud and Midrash discuss a wide range of bizarre creatures, including mermaids,
unicorns, griffins, dragons, sea-serpents, and phoenixes, as well as strange biological concepts
such as spontaneous generation. Sacred Monsters discusses these cases in detail and brings a
range of different approaches for understanding them. It is an essential book for any student or
educator who has ever struggled with conflicts between the Talmud and science. Did such
creatures really exist? Did the Sages of the Talmud really believe in such creatures? What are
the various approaches that have traditionally been taken by Torah scholars in resolving such
issues?

The Salamander
Chazal say the following about the salamander:

69
The Rabbis taught: “The tzav, according to its kind” (Leviticus 11:29) — to include the arvad,
and also the nefilim, and the salamandra. And when Rabbi Akiva would reach this verse, he
would say, “ ‘How diverse are Your works, O God!’ (Psalms 104:24) ...You have creatures that
grow in the fire, and You have creatures that grow in the air; those which grow in the fire would
die instantly if exposed to air....” (Talmud, Chullin 127a)

It was universally believed in the ancient world that salamanders are generated in fire, grow in it,
and cannot survive outside it. If Chazal believed in the spontaneous generation of even a larger
creature such as the salamander, why would they not have believed in the spontaneous generation
of much lesser creatures such as lice? Also, here we have another case of Chazal having an
incorrect belief about the natural world!

R. Meiselman, despite publishing an 800-page allegedly authoritative book on Torah and science,
designed to refute the heresies presented by yours truly, simply doesn't mention salamanders. It's
a source in Chazal that refutes his forced explanations, so he simply ignores it!

R. Bleich has the following to say about the salamander: "Aggadic references to mice arising from
dirt (Sanhedrin 91a) and salamanders from fire (Hagigah 27a) have no bearing on this discussion.
Quite frequently, aggadic statements involving exaggeration and hyperbole are allegorical and
intentionally inaccurate. Illustrations of edifying teachings are often presented in terms best
understood by the intended audiences."

70
What on earth is this supposed to mean with regard to the Gemara's statement about salamanders?
It's not an exaggeration or hyperbole - it is a calm description of how this salamander lives and
dies. There's nothing which indicates it to be allegorical or intentionally inaccurate. And it was
certainly understood as a factual, accurate account by all the Rishonim and Acharonim. Moreover,
R. Bleich fails to cite the following source from the Midrash Tanchuma:

There are creatures that thrive in fire, and not in air, such as the salamander. How so? When
glassmakers heat the furnace for seven consecutive days and nights, out of the thick of the flames
emerges a creature that resembles a mouse, which people call a salamander. If a person smears his
hand with its blood, or any other of his limbs, fire has no power over that part of him, because a
salamander is generated from fire. (Midrash Tanchuma, Vayeshev 3)

This is clearly a non-allegorical, non-hyperbolic description that is intended to be accurate. R.

Bleich ignores this, presumably because it refutes his claims about Chazal's infallibility and about
their not believing in spontaneous generation.

71
A man uses a trident to poke a salamander in a fire. What does it all mean?
Engraving: Matthaeus Merian (1593-1650)

A CRAWLING SHAPE INTRUDE

SMOULDERING SALAMANDERS

72
Jessica L. Tingle writes:23

Small, quiet, shy, perhaps even cute, a herpetologist might call them.

But some have considered the salamander very dangerous. For example, Pliny says that “the milky
mucus flowing from its mouth, whatever part of the human body it may touch, causes all hair to
fall off; and the spot thus touched assumes the appearance of tetter” (Laufer 1915).

While they may not make your hair fall off, or give you the appearance of “tetter,”
which dictionary.com informs me means “any of various eruptive skin diseases, such as herpes,
eczema, and impetigo”, some salamanders do possess toxic skin secretions. The fire
salamander, Salamandra salamandra, has even been shown to spray its neurotoxins as a defense
mechanism. Far from being aggressive, however, the salamander resorts to such tactics only as a
defense. (Brodie et al 1990)

Several authors ascribe to the salamander other terrifying traits besides poison, the foremost among
them being its affinity for fire. Aristotle claims that “the salamander is a clear case in point, to
show us that animals do actually exist that fire cannot destroy; for this creature, so the story goes,
not only walks through fire, but puts it out in doing so.” He and other writers from Antiquity had
some thoughts about the salamander’s amazing ability to withstand flames.

(Hillman 2001)

In the paper quoted above, the author goes on to speculate what species of salamander Nicandor
had in mind, and whether it was likely poisonous to people, as Nicandor said. “Dioscorides
describes the poisonous salamander as sluggish and spotted. We also know from the same text that
the salamander contained “ulcerative” and “corrosive” properties.” Hillman decides that the fire
salamander, Salamandra salamandra, best fits the description. He mentions that the species
“prefers to live in moist forested areas and is particularly fond of shaded areas such as holes or

23
https://jleetingle.wordpress.com/2014/04/18/smouldering-
salamanders/#:~:text=Aristotle%20claims%20that%20%E2%80%9Cthe%20salamander,thoughts%20about%20the%20salamand
er's%20amazing

73
crevices. It is indeed likely that one would encounter the Fire Salamander when gathering wood
for a fire. If the creature were hiding in the wood, it is entirely possible that it would escape the
notice of the cook and end up in the stew. And any salamander escaping altogether reinforced the
myth of the creature’s invulnerability to fire.”

We find further mention of the salamander’s “coldness” beyond that of Pliny. This should probably
not surprise us much, given that the salamander is an ectothermic animal, meaning it gets all of its
body heat from its environment. Since salamanders often hide from the sun in cool places, unlike
many reptile’s species that bask in the sun, their bodies frequently feel cold to us endothermic
(“warm-blooded”) mammals. Why more animals do not have the reputation for putting out fires
with their cold natures, I do not know. In addition to their cold nature, Theophrastus (372-287
B.C.E.) connects salamanders with rain, a sensible connection considering that as amphibians, they
rely heavily on water. While he merely claims that their “appearance prognosticates rain,” Pliny
goes so far as to say that “It never comes out except during heavy rains and disappears when the
sky becomes serene.” These comments show us that despite the far-fetched or even fabulous nature
of many early natural history observations, the early natural historians were in some ways quite in
touch with the animals and plants around them.

We should be careful, however, of some early natural histories of salamanders, for the name may
apply to more animals than just our lizard-like amphibians of the order Caudata. The word or
similar words can be used to refer variously to amphibians, birds, and small mammals. Marco
Polo, after his journey to China, used the word for “salamander” to refer to asbestos. What then,
could be the connection between all these things? Fire, of course. The Chinese harvested asbestos
to make it into a fire-proof cloth. Although it is a mineral, stories existed that it was really the fine
fur of some type of animal. Not surprising, given its fibrous appearance.

(Laufer 1915)

The above story combines the idea of asbestos with the idea of small mammals. We again come
upon the idea of a volcano-dwelling animal, this time a bird, in early Middle-Eastern lore. One
translator of Ibn Battuta’s travels records in the footnotes of his translation the following reference:

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 (Lee, in Ibn Battuta)

Regardless of the original type of animal meant by the word “salamander” (and its equivalent in
the many different languages used for telling stories about it), Europe eventually settled on the
amphibian meaning and retained the association between the animal and fire. While Classical
writers tended to focus on the salamander’s ability to extinguish fire, Medieval writers exaggerated
the characteristic such that works from that time describe the salamander as loving fire or being
happiest when in fire. Poets from the time period often used salamanders as similes or metaphors
for the burning fire of love or lust. (I think this is appropriate given that in some places, hundreds
of amorous salamanders emerge at once during the spring for what we call “explosive breeding.”
For more information on this exciting phenomenon, you can check out a post that I wrote some
time ago for the Cornell Herpetological Society, link).

Due to the amphibian’s supposed love of fire, philosophers, and scientists of old speculated
whether, if organisms could inhabit the sun, the salamander might be one of them. Some
philosophers contended that the sun was far too hot for even these supposedly cold-natured
amphibians, but in a 1748 book the English scientist Gowin Knight asserts that they were wrong,
and that the sun and stars “are no longer frightful Gulphs of Fire, but inhabitable Worlds.” (Crowe
2011). If one day humans finally make it to the sun, the perhaps we can flip some solar rocks to
see if there might be salamanders hiding underneath them.

References

Aristotle. The History of Animals. Written 350 B.C.E. and translated in 1910 by D’Arcy Wentworth Thompson. Kindle file.

Brodie, Edmund D. Jr., and Neal J. Smatresk. 1990. The antipredator arsenal of fire salamanders: spraying of secretions from
highly pressurized dorsal skin glands. Herpetologica 46(1): 1-7.

Crowe, Michael J. 2011. The surprising history of claims for life on the sun. Journal of Astronomical History and Heritage 14(3):
169-179.

Hillman, D.C.A. 2001. The salamander as a drug in Nicander’s writings. Pharmacy in History 43(2/3): 93-96.

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Ibn Battuta. The Travels of Ibn Battuta: in the Near East, Asia, and Africa, 1325-1354. Translated by Lee, Samuel. Dover
Publications. Kindle file.

Tingle, Jessica. Salamander Migration. Adventures of the Cornell Herpetological Society. March 10, 2012. Blog post.

salamander

A lizardlike amphibian that likes to live in moist places. In mythology the salamander is a
poisonous creature that is able to live in fire. Pliny said that the salamander “seeks the hottest fire
to breed in but quenches it with the extreme frigidity of its body.”

In Alchemy the salamander is a symbol of the Prima Materia. In the alchemical process, it plays
the role of helping the substance under transformation to give up its secret fire, which will help the
Philosopher's Stone claim its final power, as this alchemical verse describes:

76
[The Salamander] is caught and pierced So that it dies and yields up its life with its blood. But this,
too, happens for its good; For from its blood it wins immortal life, And then death has no more
power over it.

An emblem of the salamander in fire appears in Atalanta fugiens (1618) by MICHAEL MAIER.
“As the Salamander lives in the Fire so does the Stone,” says Maier.

The salamander symbolizes SULPHUR and the Secret of the Fire. The Secret Fire, corporified as
SALT, is the hidden Sulphur that is the “Philosophick Tincture.”

In The Golden Game (1988) that erudite scholar of the living tradition of alchemy, Stanislas
Klossowski de Rola, offers insights into the emblem as follows:

77
 Salamander

by Octavio Paz24

Salamander

24
Translated by Denise Levertov, http://www.snailcrow.com/2014/09/20/art-of-the-day-octavio-paz-salamander-trans-denise-
levertov/

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 (the fire wears

black armor)

a slow-burning stove

between the jaws

-marble or brick-

of the chimney it is

an ecstatic tortoise, a crouched

Japanese warrior:

whatever it is, martyrdom

is repose

impassive under torture

Salamander

ancient name of fire

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 and ancient

antidote to fire

flayed sole of the foot

on hot coals

amianthus amante amianthus

Salamander

in the abstract city between

dizzy geometries

-glass cement stone iron-

formidable chimeras appear

raised up by calculus

multiplies by profit

by the side of the anonymous wall

sudden poppy

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Salamander

Yellow claw a scrawl

of red letters on a

wall of salt

Claw of sunlight

on a heap of bones

Salamander

fallen star

in the endlessness of bloodstained opal

ensepulchred

beneath eyelids of quartz

lost girl

in tunnels of onyx

81
in the circles of basalt

buried seed

grain of energy

in the marrow of granite

Salamander, you who lay dynamite in iron’s

black and blue breast

you explode like a sun

you open yourself like a wound

you speak

as a fountain speaks

Salamander

blade of wheat

daughter of fire

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spirit of fire

condensation of blood

sublimation of blood

evaporation of blood

Salamander of air

the rock is flame

the flame is smoke

red vapor

straight-rising prayer

lofty word of praise

exclamation

crown

of fire on the head of the psalm

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scarlet queen

(and girl with purple stockings

running disheveled through the woods)

Salamander, you are

silent, the

black consoler of sulfur tears

(One wet summer I heard

the vibration of your

cylindrical tail

between lose tiles of a

dead-calm moonlit patio)

Caucasian salamander

in the rock’s

cindery shoulder appears

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 and disappears

a brief black tongue

flecked with saffron

Black and brilliant creature

the moss

quivers

you devour

insects

diminutive herald of the rain-shower

familiar spirit of the lightning

(Internal fecundation

oviparious reproduction

the young live in the water

once adult they swim sluggishly)

85
Salamander

Hanging bridge between eras

bridge of cold blood

axis of movement

(The changes in the alpine species

the most slender of all

take place in the mother’s womb

Of all the tiny eggs no more than two mature

and until they hatch

the embryos are nourished on a broth

composed of the doughy mass of their aborted brother-eggs)

The Spanish Salamander

black and red mountaineer

The sun nailed to the sky’s center does not throb

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does not breathe

life does not commence with out blood

without the embers of sacrifice

the wheel of days does not revolve

Xolotl refuses to consume himself

he hid himself in the corn but they found him

he hid himself in the maguey but they found him

he fell into the water and became the fish axolotl

the Double-Being

‘and then they killed him’

Movement began, the world was set in motion

the procession of dates and names

Xolotl the dog, guide to Hell

he who dug up the bones of the fathers

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he who cooked the bones in a pot

he who lit the fire of the years

the maker of men

Xolotl the penitent

the burst eye that weeps for us

Xolotl

larva of the butterfly

double of the Star

sea-shell

other face of the Lord of Dawn

Xolotl the axolotl

Salamander

solar arrow

lamp of the moon

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column of noonday

name of woman

scales of night

(The infinite weight of light

a half-drachm on your eyelashes)

Salamander

back flame

sunflower

you yourself in the sun

the moon

turning for ever around you

pomegranate that bursts itself open each night

fixed star on the brow of the sky

and beat of the sea and the stilled light

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open mind above the

two-and-fro of the sea

The star-lizard, salamandria

saurian scarcely eight centimeters long

lives in crevices and is the color of dust

Salamander of earth and water

green stone in the mouth of the dead

stone of incarnation

stone of fire

sweat of the earth

salt flaming and scorching

salt of destruction and

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mask of lime that consumes the face

Salamander of air and fire

wasp’s nest of suns

red word of beginning

The salamander

a lizard

her tongue ends in a dart

her tail ends in a dart

She is unhissable She is unsayable

she rests upon hot coals

queens it over firebrands

If she carves herself in the flame

she burns her monument

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Fire is her passion, her patience

Salamander Salamater

The New Alchemical Salamander: Octavio Paz’s Bridge to the Other

Michael Maier writes:25

25
From “Atalanta Fugiens” https://themetafictionalist.medium.com/the-new-alchemical-salamander-octavio-pazs-bridge-to-the-
other-fbc7886fc09b

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Lyndy Abraham, author of A Dictionary of Alchemical Imagery, defines the alchemical significance

of the salamander as “a symbol of the fiery masculine seed of metals, sulphur, the hot, dry active

male principle of the opus[the circular transformation or conversion of the elements]; the red stone

or elixir, the magical ‘philosopher’s stone which has the power to convert base metal to gold and

cure all disease and imperfection” (Abraham 176).

Octavio Paz’s poem “Salamander” uses the alchemical salamander image only to transform it from

active, masculine to passive, feminine and later active, feminine in quality. The transformation of
the salamander’s metaphysical nature is also conveyed through the use of the Mexican Xolotl myth

as Xolotl creates a link between the living and the dead, the normal with the other. This ongoing

metamorphosis of semiotic meaning maintains the salamander’s alchemical function within the

opus, and the poem, while signifying that the salamander symbol is being utilized as a bridge to the

other. From a Jungian perspective, the other can be seen as other human beings, the unknown, death,

or the subconscious. It represents all of the parts of the human experience that are pushed aside or

ignored due to social dichotomies and their conscious or subconscious implications. Because the

salamander image has the power to connect man to the other, it cures man of illness and

imperfection. Paz seeks to build this connection through his poem, or the word image, because

when man can reach a unified state beyond duality, only then is his experience of life pure and
beyond the artificial constraints of time or society, and only then may true communication and

community manifest.

Paz builds the salamander’s traditional association with the active, masculine principle from the

very beginning of the poem in order to establish its ability to aid in the process of individuation or

the creation of the philosopher’s stone. Paz begins his poem with, “salamander (the fire wears black

armor) a slow-burning stove between the jaws-marble or brick-of the chimney it is” (Paz 139). The

salamander represents the hot, dry, male active principle in alchemy. Physical or experimental

alchemy, versus philosophical alchemy, used the salamander within the stove to signify part of the

93
laboratory process of converting elements in order to create gold from base matter. Popular culture

associated the salamander with cooking stoves because it was believed that the salamander was

“…conceived by fire, nursed by fire, and perfected by fire” as Abraham reports was indicated in

the alchemical text Zoroaster’s Cave (176). The salamander’s fiery quality suggests its ability to

transform substances, or coalesce them, as fire can cook, heat, or burn depending on the

circumstance. This ability is key to understanding the salamander’s alchemical and thus Jungian

function. Richard J. Callan of the University of New Hampshire explains, “All our being longs to

escape from the opposites that tear at us and to be reborn to the fullness of being in which life,
death, time, eternity, and all other dualities are reconciled” (916).

This longing toward the union of opposites has alchemical significance as the philosopher’s stone

promises eternal life or perfect happiness and must be created in the fire through the transformation

of base matter to something higher in quality. In psychological terms, the philosopher’s stone

promises “…the fullness of being, wherein tensions are resolved, and opposites fused into

unity…the archetypal goal of life” (Callan 916). Paz’s communicates the salamander’s ability to

dissolve duality by establishing its masculine, active principle in the image of a burning stove. It is

masculine in its containment and active in its ability to transmute substances.

Author Judith Bernard in Mexico as Theme, Image, and Contribution to Myth in the Poetry

of Octavio Paz argues that “The distinguishing mark of Paz’s imagery is the quality of uniting

opposing forces, which as we see, relates ultimately to his vision of a transcendental ‘otra orilla’

[other shore] and the spiritual completion of man” (Bernard 32). The salamander image is

introduced to readers as able to unite oppositions from the very beginning in order to express

“Salamander’s” purpose of transcending the other through a poetic voyage toward unity.

Paz’s beginning image of the salamander is traditional, but he quickly shows readers that he will be

playing with the salamander motif in relation to the other with the introduction of the samurai image

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and its connection with the other. Paz continues, “an ecstatic tortoise, a crouched Japanese warrior”

(141). The masculine association to the salamander is still present, but his introduction of the

oriental style of paradox along with the image of the Japanese warrior communicates that the

salamander will not remain a simple linear symbol within the poem. Instead, the salamander

symbol, along with its alchemical significance, will be fleshed out by the exploration of its alternate

states and significations.

The salamander oven is hot and burning, but it also looks like a tortoise: slow and calm. A tortoise’s
pace is unhurried and its demeanor still, yet it’s unknown and internal life force may still yet be

ecstatic. The salamander oven may also appear to be a crouching Japanese warrior, or samurai, in

his stove like armor. The crouched warrior is active potential in suspension. Its silence and stillness

are requisite for its violent and ready action. At the same time, the Japanese warrior himself is a

signifier of the other to readers of a more occidental cultural heritage due to his place in oriental

culture, yet he still embodies the active, masculine principle of the salamander within the western

alchemical tradition.

Furthermore, directly after his reference to the Japanese warrior, when Paz writes, “whatever it is,

martyrdom is repose impassive under torture,” he alludes to the connection between the samurai’s
ritual suicide and the opus. As Encyclopaedia Brittanica mentions, “The ideal samurai was

supposed to be a stoic warrior who followed an unwritten code of conduct, later formalized as

Bushidō, which held bravery, honour, and personal loyalty above life itself; ritual suicide by

disembowelment was institutionalized as a respected alternative to dishonour or defeat” (“Samurai”

entry 1). The samurai’s virtues become a bridge to the other, to death, the unknown, or the feminine,

because though his virtues compose his character, they lead him to choose death over defeat. In

other words, he would choose the ultimate other over a negative state of being. Paz utilizes the

samurai ritual suicide as a symbol for the opus because in the opus, the salamander must lose its

95
active, masculine quality in order to aid the conversion of the elements for the distillation of the

philosopher’s stone or a better state of being.

Paz also connects the salamander’s active, masculine principle and its negative connotations in

relation to modern life. Paz writes, “Salamander in the abstract city between dizzy geometries -

glass cement stone iron-” (141). The salamander’s connection to the opus, again elemental

conversions necessary to distill the philosopher’s stone, is now contextualized. The salamander

oven is the chemist’s laboratory and instead of an alchemical panacea, modern science has created
the materials for industry and growth.

Carl Jung, in his writings on alchemy, relates that “The alchemical opus deals in the main not just

with chemical experiments as such, but with something resembling psychic processes expressed

in pseudochemical language” (242).

The city Paz introduces is alchemy taken literally not metaphorically. The salamander within

semiotic relation to the city takes man further away from the philosopher’s stone or individuation.

The modern city presented by Paz is not structured with natural elements; it is composed of the

outcomes of laboratory experiments. Science has used its active, masculine laboratory fire to create
new materials like steel. The city then grows beyond nature in size and scope with novel materials,

creating growing physical structure at the expense of growing human connections. The city’s

growth is like “formidable chimeras [that] appear raised up by calculus” (141).

In Greek mythology, a chimera is “a fire-breathing female monster resembling a lion in the forepart,

a goat in the middle, and a dragon behind,” (“Chimera” entry 1 &2). The active, masculine principle

of the salamander has been exploited by modern science in order to provide powerful urban centers

constructed out of materials foreign to nature. Calculus aids this practice by exploiting possibility.

Paz perceives the product of advanced science and math as almost nightmarish for they impose a

96
masculine, active vision on the unknown, or the other. The city is as unnatural as the chimera

because although the other is being reached for, the other is only worked toward with a narrow

vision shaped by the masculine, active principle; its industry and its smoke is the fire of the chimera

monster, nature distorted beyond recognition. The change in human civilization “multiplies by

profit by the side of the anonymous wall sudden poppy” (Paz 141).

Money, an active medium of growth, funds the unnatural state humanity has fallen into, and the

actual people of the city fall into anonymity or delirium, for they are still separated from the
wholeness of the human experience. The city with its manic dimensions has not brought them closer

to being at peace with the other. Although the alchemical function of the salamander is not

completely lost even within the context of the city, or modern life, Paz recognizes the negative

consequences of the salamander’s exaggerated active masculine principle.

He describes, “Salamander Yellow claw a scrawl of red letters on a wall of salt Claw of sunlight

on a heap of bones” (Paz 141). The traditional fiery colors of the alchemical salamander now

appear almost completely divorced from its traditional alchemical association, which is positive.

Instead of the salamander serving a beneficial metaphysical purpose, its exploited energy is utilized

for destruction or as a marker of death, indicating that modern society is unable to reach the other
in a healthy way if they approach it through the exploitation of the active, masculine principle.

Because the traditional meaning of the salamander has degenerated into a negative state within the

modern world, Paz relates an ending to the traditional salamander while maintaining a connection

to traditional alchemy. Paz emphasizes the salamander’s active, masculine alchemical role while

creating a linguistic contradiction, connecting the salamander with the other, when he writes,

“Salamander ancient name of fire and ancient antidote to fire flayed sole of the foot on hot coals”

(Paz 141). Paz denotes the salamander as a true emblem of fire while pointing out its paradoxical

role as antidote for fire. The salamander’s dual functions maintain a connection to traditional

97
alchemy by showing the union of opposites and the good that comes of it, the antidote. He balances

out the paradox, and cleverly maintains a connection to the other, when he writes the line,

“aminathus amante aminathus,” which means “asbestos lover asbestos” (Paz 141).

This line also alludes to the salamander’s dual role in philosophical alchemy by its juxtaposition of

poison with the lover, or the negative with the positive, or even the normal with the other. Paz

demonstrates that the salamander image contains both aspects of life. Therefore, its fullness cannot

be contained by the label of active, masculine, and by implication, it functions as a bridge to the
other. He notes its transformation, “Salamander fallen star in the endlessness of bloodstained opal

ensepulchred beneath eyelids of quartz lost girl in tunnels of onyx” (Paz 141).

The salamander’s potential is vast within the traditional alchemical context, but like a star that

burned too bright it burnt out by the heaviness of its fullness. The salamander symbol has died in

its traditional sense, at this point in the poem, as the active, masculine principle is too much aligned

with a power crazed and industrial civilization, yet in its death, or period of respite, it still has a

transformative power in its expressed and unified duality.

This time, as Paz envisions it, the salamander is an agent of internal change. The opal, symbol of
variability, is bloody, but within the depths of non-being, the other is manifested. Here Paz offers

the first shift of the salamander from the active, masculine principle to the passive, feminine

principle. Instead of a masculine figure resting in a time of nothingness, it is a “lost girl” sleeping

under heavy, quartz lids. The masculine quality of the salamander has shifted to the feminine while

dormant or transitioning through its period of death.

Although Paz is describing the feminization of the salamander, he also uses the Mexican myth of

the god Xolotl to express the salamander’s function as a bridge to the other. Paz states, “The sun

nailed to the sky’s center does not throb does not breathe life does not commence without blood

98
without the embers of sacrifice the wheel of days does not revolve” (146). The sun within the center

of the sky represents time itself, and sacrifice is required for it to turn or to progress because without

sacrifice, time is immobile and actually a span under one static form. As nature demonstrates, a

period of ending, or experience within the other or non-life, must occur for new life to appear.

Similarly, a period of ending must happen for time to shift and offer new beginnings.

Paz explains the shifting of time and the period of death through the Xolotl myth. Paz notes, “Xolotl

refuses to consume himself he hid himself in the corn but they found him he hid himself in the
maguey, but they found him he fell into the water and became the fish axolotl the Double-Being

‘and then they killed him’ Movement began, the world was set in motion the procession of dates

and names” (147).

He explains that Xolotl death is inevitable just as time too must die to move forward. Alchemically

speaking, the Xolotl salamander transforms time itself as he transforms. Paz then further comments

on Xolotl’s transformation as a result of his death or meeting with the other. Paz writes, “Xolotl the

dog, guide to Hell he who dug up the bones of the fathers he who cooked the bones in a pot he who

lit the fire of the years the maker of men Xolotl the penitent the burst eye that weeps for us Xolotl

larva of the butterfly double of the Star sea-shell other face of the Lord of Dawn Xolotl the axolotl”
(147).

Xolotl, a salamander god, is now described as the other in potential and by association. Xolotl is

like a butterfly larva that will burst from its dormant shell as a natural figure of beauty. Xolotl, the

salamander, is named as the other face of Quetzalcoatl, the morning star and lord of the dawn. Burr

Cartwright Brundage gives background information on the association. He remarks, “We believe

that Xolotl was originally a stifling presence, a numen of the underworld…and thus could be

logically cast as the evening star. This in turn necessarily paired him with Quetzacoatl who

already Ce Acatl was, the morning star” (200).

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Paz uses Xolotl to express a natural connection between “normal” and other, or active and passive.

Xolotl is the inverse of the day light’s solar rigor as the god shines with less heat. The morning star

nor Quetzalcoatl is complete without him, just as all being necessitates connection to its shadow in

order to be whole.

Paz does not see pure death in the downfall of the salamander’s purpose: instead, he recognizes it

as having new potential within cyclical time as a figure of the feminine, active principle. Paz

highlights that the salamander principle is changing when he states, “in the circles of basalt buried
seed grain of energy in the marrow of granite Salamander, you who lay dynamite in iron’s black

and blue breast you explode like a sun” (141–143).

The salamander’s state of non-being shifts here to the image of a seed. As a seed lies dormant, so

too does the salamander. As a seed bursts forward to blossom in another form, so too does the

salamander. The salamander’s connection to alchemy is still present in Paz’s reference to dynamite,

which functions from the combustion of various combined and transformed elements. At the same

time, the salamander’s function is feminized, now in active form, as the dynamite’s breast explodes

into activity and life like sunshine.

This bursting forth, or new state, is both painful and beautiful. Paz writes, “you open yourself like

a wound you speak as a fountain speaks” (143). When Paz writes “you,” he is referring to the

salamander. The new aspect of the salamander opens like a wound because transformations are

often painful. The beauty is that which is communicated from the salamander’s sacrifice: the

sacrifice is beautiful and healing, coming from a fountain. In alchemy, the fountain represents “the

magical transforming substance” (Abraham 81).

If the salamander is speaking like the fountain, then the salamander is now a conveyer of a

transformed word. Nevertheless, Bernard elaborates and deepens the meaning of Paz’s fountain.

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She explains, “This fountain, however, is a human fountain, intimating that this inspiration does

not come from a source outside man but from some untouched well within him, but shared by

his fellow man: a collective reserve of unconsciously held truths” (Bernard145). Because the

salamander itself has transformed and become one with its other attributes, its transmittance or word

expresses the philosopher’s stone to a whole new level of the other, the reader.

Because the image of the salamander has transformed to and even beyond the active, feminine

principle, Paz now argues that the philosopher’s stone is within reach, meaning individuation and
true existence is now possible through the acceptance and activation of the other. He describes the

alchemical work within a new context, “blade of wheat daughter of fire spirit of fire condensation

of blood sublimation of blood evaporation of blood Salamander of air the rock is flame the flame

is smoke red vapor” (143).

The salamander is no longer stable in its significance. It is active, masculine yet active, feminine. It

is represented by the vegetable and mineral. Its fullness of being allows it to be a thing of both air

and fire. The opposites within the salamander no longer function separately. Paz describes the new

significance of the salamander, “Salamander solar arrow lamp of the moon column of noonday

name of woman scales of night (The infinite weight of light a half-drachm on your eyelashes)”
(143).

All levels of illumination, whether physical or metaphorical, now emanate from the salamander or

the individuated being. This is the true condition and origin of life. Paz remarks, “a lizard her

tongue ends in a dart her tail ends in a dart She is unhissable She is unsayable she rests upon

hot coals queens it over firebrands If she carves herself in the flame she burns her monument

Fire is her passion, her patience Salamander Salamater” (145). The salamander’s internal

unification with the other engenders the ultimate generative principle where creation is possible

because all shades of experience can be potentialized. In The Bow and the Lyre, Paz argues that “…

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the image is a phrase in which the plurality of meanings does not disappear. The image receives

and exalts all the values of the words without excluding the primary and secondary meanings”

(92).

The salamander is the image in which Paz shows the reader how an image can take multiple

meanings without losing its differentiated meanings. Therefore, Paz is able to metaphorically frame

the new salamander as the mother of generation, for her passion activates life while her patience

nurtures it, and she holds all possibility within her sign. As Paz suggests in The Bow and the
Lyre, because the salamander offers readers with infinite possibility, she offers man “…his

condition: being able to be. And the power of his condition consists in this. In sum, our original

condition is not only lack, nor is it abundance, but possibility” (138). Paz thus leaves readers

contemplating his prophetic word of man and life’s optimum possibility as whole beings.

Paz’s poem “Salamander” depends heavily on traditional alchemical attributes of the salamander’s

role in the opus, yet Paz transcends tradition and presents readers with a new vision of the

salamander. This new vision in alchemical imagery communicates through the poetic word the

potentiality for the experience of a truer, more authentic life.

Paz delivers readers a new philosopher’s stone within the salamander image. The other is not apart

from man in this vision but rather a part of him. This union of opposites within man carries the traits

of Jung’s individuation while expressing a fuller reality, transmitted by a deeper understanding of

life. Dichotomies that frame life as one way or another limit experience. Life, though, is

multiplicitous and requires all of its states to be accepted in order for it to function healthily.

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Works Cited

Abraham, Lyndy. A Dictionary of Alchemical Imagery. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 1998.

Bernard, Judith Ann. Mexico as Theme, Image, and Contribution to Myth in the Poetry of Octavio Paz. University Microfilms, Inc:

Ann Arbor, Michigan, 1964.

Brundage, Burr Cartwright. The Phoenix of the World: Quetzalcoatl and the Sky Religion. Norman, Ok: University of Oklahoma

Press, 1982.

Callan, Richard, J. “Some Parallels between Octavio Paz and Carl Jung.” Hispania. 60.4. (Dec. 1977). Pp. 916–926.

“Chimera & Samurai.” Encyclopedia Britannica Online. 24 Feb. 11. Entries 1 &1.

Jung, C. G. Psychology and Alchemy. Princeton University Press: New York, 1968.

Paz, Octavio. The Bow and the Lyre. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2009

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