A few weeks ago I went to an institute class on the Book of
Mormon that talked about literary forms in the Book of Mormon. They talked
about parallelism and chiasmus and
how John Welch was made aware of chiasmus in the Bible and how he discovered it
in the Book of Mormon too.
I remember my first exposure to the form of chiasmus. A BYU
professor taught about it in my Book of Mormon class back in 1998, and at the
time I thought it was terribly far-fetched. The teacher pointed out how a whole
chapter in Alma was one massive chiasmus, and my skeptical mind doubted this
was a real thing and wondered how anyone would have figured it out.
Well, this institute class answered that. John Welch had been taught to see chiasmus in the Bible (see
link for 10 minute Youtube video on the story) and had opened the Book of Mormon randomly and noticed repeated two
repeated words, then similar ideas above and below that repetition. He’d stumbled on the middle point of
emphasis, and then found the parallelisms that spread outward from there. The wording didn’t have to be
identical; it was the theme that
could be repeated.
That made more sense to me.
And then it struck me how fabulous it was that this form was
used in scripture. If it is the idea
or theme that is repeated, then the
exact wording isn’t as important.
In contrast, take the poetic idea of rhyme. A poem that rhymes is very
difficult to translate across languages because the same words in another
language may not rhyme. You lose part of the cleverness and artistry in
translation. But parallel ideas
and themes presented in chiastic form will remain unchanged, no matter the
language.
I’ve run across an edition of the Book of Mormon that has
actually worked at all kinds of places where parallelisms and chiasmuses
appear, and uses indentation to make those forms more obvious. It’s fascinating to run your eye along
the page and see the form. (But it’s
more difficult to read.)
And then something else occurred to me. I remembered Moroni’s lament about
weakness in writing and stumbling over word placement, worrying the gentiles
would mock his writing. Could it
be possible that he assumed the gentiles would know parallelism and chiasmus
and see where he couldn’t get it to work quite right? Could it be he worried
the gentiles would dismiss his message because he couldn’t achieve the highest
literary form as often as he wanted to?
He didn’t know we would be so much more interested in the
flow of meaning than in the form. He didn’t know we’d know almost nothing about
the literary structure they were trying to shoehorn their message into. After
all, chiasmus is an optimization problem, as a writer tries to structure his
message in a pattern of repeating ideas. (There is always a risk that the form
will start to torture the meaning and read awkwardly.) If the Book of Mormon writers ever do
chiasmus badly, and we don’t quite see how it goes, it is probably because they
departed from the form in greater service to the meaning, and we can be
grateful for that.