The structural resemblances between Maštigga's ritual for domestic quarrels and the Kuwattalla tradition are summarized in Table 5.1. The left-hand column lists the paragraphs of CTH 404.1 or their combinations corresponding to individual rites. The white rows in the right-hand column indicate the lack of parallels, the light gray rows suggest parallels with CTH 758-763 involving specific rites, and the dark gray rows comprise the ordered sequences of two or more rites that find counterparts in CTH 759-763.

<table><caption>Table 5.1: Synopsis of CTH 404.1</caption><tr><td>§ 1</td><td>Incipit</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 2-5</td><td>List of implements</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 6-7</td><td>First offering to the Sun-god</td></tr><tr><td>§ 8</td><td>Setting up the figurines, hands, and tongues of dough/paste</td></tr><tr><td>§ 9</td><td>Placing blue and red wool threads on the ritual patrons</td></tr><tr><td>§ 10</td><td>Andaliya cuts threads</td></tr><tr><td>§ 11</td><td>Fish rite</td></tr><tr><td>§ 12</td><td>Holding up the <i>tiššatwa</i></td></tr><tr><td>§§ 13-14</td><td>Twisting wax tongues to the left; incantation to the Sun-god</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 15-17</td><td>Waving and dispensing with the hands and tongues of dough/paste</td></tr><tr><td>§ 18</td><td>Nailing down seven tongues of clay</td></tr><tr><td>§ 19</td><td>Purification with water and dough</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 20-21</td><td>White sheep substitution rite</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 22-23</td><td>Black sheep substitution rite</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 24-25</td><td>Piglet substitution rite</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 26-27</td><td>Waving a <i>hupuwai</i>-vessel filled with cumin</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 28-29</td><td><i>harziyalla</i>-rite</td></tr><tr><td>§ 30</td><td>Puppy rite</td></tr><tr><td>§ 31</td><td>Purification with water and dough</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 32-33</td><td>Rite of the <i>išnuri</i>-vessel</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 34-35</td><td>Dispensing with the <i>hupuwai</i>-vessels</td></tr><tr><td>§ 36</td><td>Scapegoat rite</td></tr><tr><td>§ 37</td><td>Rite of seven copper pegs</td></tr><tr><td>§ 38</td><td>Second offering to the Sun-god</td></tr><tr><td>§§ 39-41</td><td>Rite of the <i>huwaši</i>-stones</td></tr><tr><td>§ 42</td><td>Pot substitution rite</td></tr><tr><td>§ 43</td><td>Purification with the “plant of the Sun-god”</td></tr><tr><td>§ 44</td><td>Purification with water and natron</td></tr><tr><td>§ 45</td><td>Sealing the bull horn</td></tr><tr><td>(§ 46)</td><td>Colophon</td></tr></table>

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If we exclude the introductory passage and the colophon, only one rite of Maštigga’s ritual remains isolated, in fifteen contain atomic resemblances, and twelve belong to ordered sequences with counterparts in the Kuwattalla tradition. These are: § 9 > § 10 > §§ 15–17, §§ 20–21 > §§ 24–25, (possibly) §§ 26–27 > § 30, §§ 32–33 > §§ 36, §§ 32–33 > §§ 37, and §§ 39–41 > § 42. Conversely, there is not a single case where the order of rites in the Kuwattalla tradition conflicts with the order of their established counterparts in CTH 404.1. Furthermore, the scarce information about tablet numbers at our disposal is compatible with the hypothesis that all the counterparts of “dark-gray” rites occupy approximately the same spot in the earliest version of the Kuwattalla tradition as they do in CTH 404.1, being roughly divided into the same three main blocks as those illustrated by Table 5.1: (a) manipulations with the symbols of impurity, (b) animal substitution rites, and (c) assorted rites. Summing up, the similarities between the two traditions appear to be strong enough to warrant using the structural template of the well-preserved ritual CTH 404.1 for the purpose of reconstructing the family of rituals that are attributed to Kuwattalla and/or Šilalluḫi.

### 5.3 PRACTICAL IMPLICATIONS

Below we will attempt to demonstrate how the structural similarities between the Kuwattalla and Maštigga traditions contribute to the editorial work involving the fragmentary versions of CTH 759–763. We will also attempt to show that discriminating between the rites and passages with and without parallels in CTH 404.1 is conducive to advancing meaningful hypotheses about the development of the Kuwattalla tradition. While some observations in this section necessarily duplicate the commentary to the respective tablet series, it is useful to summarize them here in order to avoid the impression of adopting ad hoc solutions later on.

One can begin to illustrate the practical implications of the analysis undertaken in the previous Section 5.2 using the example of CTH 761.1, the group of one-column tablets, which probably constitutes the oldest preserved version of the Great Ritual and is attributed to Kuwattalla alone. Starke (1985, 74) considered KUB 35.24+, KUB 32.9(+), and KUB 35.23 to be parts of this tablet series. Our research was conducive to assigning KUB 32.10+ and KBo 29.15 to the same group, establishing at the same time that KUB 32.9(+) and KUB 35.21 cannot be regarded as elements of the same join, because their physical dimensions do not match. Thus, we end up with six fragments, only one of which—namely, KUB 32.9(+)—can be ordered according to its colophon (third tablet). Proposing the relative order of the remaining fragments of CTH 761.1 is possible only on the basis of their content.

The fragment KUB 32.10+ contains the Hittite clause featuring the verb *arha laizz[i]* ‘unties’ and the object(s) made of clay or dough or paste (line 11’). It is followed by the invocation to the Sun-deities, who are requested to take something, presumably the detached objects. A later ritual of the Kuwattalla tradition supplies the crucial lexical parallel: a manipulation with the detached tongues of paste/dough is accompanied by an invocation to the Sun-god (KUB 35.48 iii 33’–34’). A likely counterpart

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of this passage in CTH 404.1 is §§ 13–14, which is preceded by holding up an inanimate substitute called *tiššatwa* (§ 12). Now, the Luwian incantation at the beginning of KUB 32.10+ also apparently features an inanimate substitute (‘that of striking, that of binding, that of smiting’), which gods are expected to deploy for removing defilement from the patient. This double match is conducive to the hypothesis that KUB 32.10+ corresponds to the end of § 12 and the beginning of §§ 13–14 in the template of Maštigga’s ritual.<fnref n="101" />

The hypothesis that KUB 35.23 contains a fragment of the fish rite has already been advanced in Section 5.2. The fish rite (§ 11) directly follows the manipulations with the thread of wool (§§ 9–10) in the text of CTH 404.1. In contrast, we find the incantation accompanying ablution positioned before the beginning of the fish rite in KUB 35.23. This discrepancy is hardly surprising: purification rites punctuate all the other rites in CTH 761.1. Therefore, if the identification of KUB 35.23 holds, nothing stands in the way of the hypothesis that this fragment came shortly before KUB 32.10+ in the reconstructed text of CTH 761.1.

KUB 35.24+ and KUB 35.21 belong to the middle portion of the text, which features animal substitution rites. The sequence of substitution rites in CTH 404.1 is as follows: white sheep > black sheep > piglet > puppy. We have argued in Section 5.2 that the substitution rite partially preserved in KUB 35.21 rev. 1’-14’ is likely to be either a sheep rite or a puppy rite, because the ritual patron spits into the animal’s mouth. The obverse of the same tablet features the rite involving vegetable soup, which represents a structural counterpart of §§ 26–27 in the Maštigga tradition. If we assume that KUB 35.21 rev. 1’-14’ is a sheep rite (see §§ 20–23 in the Maštigga tradition), then one would expect to find the piglet rite on the same tablet, since it represents a structural counterpart of §§ 24–25 in the Maštigga tradition.<fnref n="102" /> In fact, the text of the piglet rite belonging to the same tablet series is likely attested in KUB 35.24+ obv. 1’-5”, which apparently belongs to the lower part of the tablet. Yet, an attempt to treat KUB 35.21 and KUB 35.24+ as a vertical indirect join would yield a reconstruction of an implausible sequence of at least some eighty lines on the obverse of the tablet. Therefore, it seems more plausible to interpret KUB 35.21 rev. 1’-14’ as reflecting a puppy rite, the structural counterpart of § 30 in the Maštigga tradition.

A consequence of this interpretation would be the assignment of KUB 35.24+, likely containing the text of a piglet rite, to before KUB 35.21 in the sequence of CTH 761.1. As for the reverse size of KUB 35.24+, the interpretation of this text on

<footnote n="101">101 An interesting discrepancy between KUB 32.10+ and KUB 35.48 is worth observing: in the latter text, the counterpart of §§ 13–14 follows directly after the manipulations with the bronze dagger, the counterpart of § 10. The omission or reordering of the intervening rites (the fish rite and the *tiššatwa*-rite) may represent an innovative feature of CTH 760 or some of its versions.</footnote>

<footnote n="102">102 Note that under this hypothesis one would have to assume that the obverse of KUB 35.21 is the reverse and vice versa. This is in itself not impossible, since the traditional assignment of the obverse and reverse of KUB 35.21 is solely based on the assumed join with KUB 32.9(+), which proved to be incorrect. We argue immediately below, however, that the comparison with the Maštigga tradition supports rather than contradicts the conventional assignment of obverse and reverse in this case.</footnote>
the basis of the standard version of CTH 404.1 appears to be impossible: the piglet substitution rite is directly followed there by the rite of a *hupuwai*-vessel filled with cumin, representing a counterpart of the vegetable soup rite. A possible answer comes from the parallel version CTH 404.1.III. Immediately before the presentation of a *hupuwai*-vessel filled with cumin (§§ 26–27), this text includes the paragraph numbered § 25" in Miller 2004, 79 and resembles the *tiššatwa*-rite in § 12. The crucial difference between the two is that the *tiššatwa*-objects are said to stand in for the white sheep and black sheep in § 25", and therefore this version of the rite presumably features two such objects. This is the only occurrence of plural substitutes in CTH 404.1, and it agrees remarkably well with the plural *tar-pa-a-aš-ša-a-an-zi* in KUB 35.24+ rev. 3". If we accept this parallel, we may suggest that the second *tiššatwa*-rite occupied the space to the end of KUB 35.24+ rev. and was followed by the vegetable soup rite in KUB 35.21 obv. after the expected interjection of purification rites.

The foregoing conclusions impact our options with regard to the placement of one more fragment of CTH 761.1—namely, KBo 29.15. Here we find an incantation that is expected to accompany an animal substitution rite, which cannot, however, belong either to the piglet rite (KUB 35.24+ obv.) or to the puppy rite (KUB 35.21 rev.), because the pertinent incantations beginning with the sequence /lalai=du=tta paprai=du=tta/ have been preserved in the respective passages. In contrast, the same incantation is lost in a lacuna in the instance of the supposed *tiššatwa*-rite (KUB 35.24+ rev.), which renders possible the addition of KBo 29.15 at the end of the same rite. Alternatively, we may consider the possibility that KBo 29.15 belongs to the substitution rites featuring a live sheep (black or white?). Yet, no traces of such passages have otherwise been found in CTH 761.1, and the hypothesis that the relevant rite coexisted with the *tiššatwa*-rites involving sheep of the same colors in CTH 761.1 need not be taken for granted.103 Summing up, the use of Maštigga’s ritual as the external parallel is conducive to proposing the following tentative sequence for CTH 761.1: KUB 35.23 > KUB 32.10+ > KUB 35.24+ > KUB 35.21 > KBo 29.15. The placement of its first and last elements is particularly hypothetical due to the small size of the relevant fragments.

The final fragment of CTH 761.1—namely, KUB 32.9(+)—unfortunately yields no clue as to its relative placement, since the tablet collation at the Anatolian museum in Ankara demonstrated that its traditional join to KUB 35.21 is no longer tenable. The remaining part describes the repeated purification rites involving the *taluppi*-lump and water, which occur several times in the oldest available version of the Kuwattalla tradition and are therefore not helpful for determining its location vis-à-vis the other rites. This is the only fragment of CTH 761.1 that preserves a fully readable tablet number in the colophon (third tablet). Yet, the alignment of this indication with the

<footnote n="103">103 It will be argued below in this section that the white sheep and black sheep rites bridge the Kuwattalla and Maštigga traditions and therefore must have been present in the Kuwattalla “archetype”, but equating such an “archetype” with CTH 761.1 would be methodologically incorrect. Just as the Maštigga tradition implies the optional substitution of live sheep with their cheaper models made of tallow (§§ 20–23 vs. § 25”), so a similar optional variation may have been inherited by the early versions of the Kuwattalla tradition.</footnote>
relative sequence proposed above does not appear to be possible for the time being, both because we are unsure how many rites in addition to those with counterparts in the Maštigga sequence were incorporated into CTH 761.1 and because the number of rites per tablet may have varied across the sequence.

Another example of a reconstruction anchored in the sequencing of Maštigga’s ritual is the newly identified abridged version of a text belonging to the Kuwattalla tradition (CTH 759.3), consisting of the fragments KUB 35.81 (+) KBo 71.94, KUB 35.78, and KUB 35.37. According to the colophon of the latter fragment, this is the first tablet of the dupaduparša-ritual. The same fragment KUB 35.37 mentions a rite of nail-ing down the nakkiu-spirits, which, as we know now, represents a structural counterpart of § 37 in CTH 404.1. The fragment KUB 35.78 refers to the ikkunatt-sacrifice, which precedes dealing with the nakkiu-spirits, according to the overlapping sequence of KUB 35.16(+) and KBo 29.6(+). Therefore, it can be reconstructed as part of column four of the same first tablet. As for the recent join KUB 35.81 (+) KBo 71.94, its text addresses the destruction of the evil tongues, matching §§ 15–17 in CTH 404.1. Therefore, it can tentatively be assigned to column two of the same tablet. One can easily see that the change of settings is much quicker in CTH 759.3 than in CTH 761.1, which is expected, given that the incantations there are truncated even more strongly than in CTH 404.1. Despite this difference, the assumption that the relative order of rites remains essentially the same in the abridged version is conducive to a meaningful reconstruction.

It goes without saying that a mere reference to the parallel rites in Maštigga’s ritual does not automatically lead to establishing or even conjecturing complete sequences of fragments in each and every tablet series under discussion. Thus, out of the twelve fragments of CTH 762.1, a combined version of the Great Ritual and ḫalliyattanza-ritual written by the scribe Pariziti, only four can be directly matched with the rites of CTH 404.1. This is KUB 32.70, mentioning cutting away the miasma (see § 10); KBo 29.5, reconstructed as referring to the destruction of the evil hand and tongue (see §§ 15–17); KUB 35.74, presenting the “white sheep” made of fat (see § 25”); and KBo 29.62, featuring a pot acting as a substitute for the head (see § 42). Nevertheless, using the sequence of these four fragments as a starting point, it is frequently possible to assemble other fragments written by Pariziti around them on the basis of internal parallels within the Kuwattalla tradition or of general thematic similarities. The practical applications of the comparison with the Maštigga template are not exhausted by the examples given above and are discussed further in the commentary to the relevant fragments. They need not, however, be taken as confirming the validity of the proposed methodology; indeed, such a claim would amount to circular reasoning.

A truly independent confirmation of the relevance of CTH 404.1 for reconstructing the Kuwattalla tradition paradoxically comes from a group of rites that have no counterparts in CTH 404.1. This is the *ikkunatt-sacrifice*, the *šarlatt-sacrifice*, and a rite of filling a pitcher with barley soup and precious metals (KBo 29.6(+) i 14’–31’, restored after KUB 35.16(+) ii). The three rites form a coherent block, which is inserted at some point between the counterparts of §§ 32–33 (placing a strand of wool
into a vessel filled with oil and honey) and § 36 (the *nakkušši*-rite).<fnref n="104" /> Now, the intrusive character of this block has been demonstrated in Section 3.6 through an unusual reference to the malign influences in the respective incantations: the ubiquitous triad of /tabaru-/, /tadarijamman-/, and /xirun/d-/ is consistently replaced here with the pair consisting of /xaradar-/ ‘offense’ and /wasku(wa)limm(a)-/ ‘fault’. The last two terms find a correspondence in the common Hittite pair *waštul ḫarrātar* ‘fault (and) offense’ (Starke 1990, 445), which is even attested in the ritual for bloodshed attributed to Maštigga (KBo 43.319 i 6’; CTH 404.3; Miller 2004, 136), but not in CTH 404.1. It was argued in the same Section 3.6 above that the intrusive rites may have originally constituted a separate Kizzuwadna ritual attributed to the Old Woman Šilalluḫi.

A different way of arguing that the *ikkunatt-* and šarlatt-sacrifices do not belong to the core of the Kuwattalla tradition is the analysis of the Hittite incipits of KBo 29.3+ and KUB 35.18(+). Both versions of the performance require eight sacrificial sheep, of which two are defined as *aniuraš* (lit. ‘of the ritual’). It is specified further that one of these two sheep is white, while the other is black. Now, Maštigga’s domestic quarrel ritual features a matching offering of two sheep, one white and one black (§§ 20–23). In view of this match, it is tempting to assume that the epithet *aniuraš* refers to the original version of *šalli aniur* Great Ritual, which at a later point was enriched by supplementary rites featuring sacrificial offerings of six more sheep. We learn from the rest of both lists that two from among these six were meant for the *ik-kunatt*-sacrifice, while one more was meant for the *šarlatt*-sacrifice.<fnref n="105" /> This confirms the secondary character of both items.<fnref n="106" /> Two more supplementary sheep were assigned to the *keldi*-rite, along with the ceremony of smearing feet with blood, which both have a distinctly Hurrian flavor and therefore are compatible with the extension of the tradition attributable to Šilalluḫi. It is difficult to say anything about the lactating ewe added to the same list, except that it does not participate in any rite of CTH 404.1.<fnref n="107" />

<footnote n="104">104 For the sequencing of the *ikkunatt*-sacrifice after the counterpart of §§ 32–33, see KUB 32.8(+) ii vs. iii; for the position of the whole block before the *nakkušši*-rite, see KUB 35.16(+) i, ii vs. iv. Unfortunately, it seems to be impossible to determine the position of this block vis-à-vis the rite of the *hupuwai*-vessels (the counterpart of §§ 34–35).</footnote>

<footnote n="105">105 The counterpart of the *ikkunatt*-sacrifice, involving treating the Sun-god with heart and liver, appears to have been appended to CTH 404.2, a text that is analogous in many respects to CTH 404.1, as §§ 6’–7’ (Miller 2004, 128–29). It is impossible, however, to claim that CTH 404.2 represents a closer parallel to the Kuwattalla tradition than CTH 404.1 does, because the order of rites in this composition underwent numerous transpositions. In particular, the rites involving human figurines and the tongue of dough/paste follow there the putative counterpart of the *ikkunatt*-sacrifice, while the scapegoat rite precedes it.</footnote>

<footnote n="106">106 Note that the Middle Script fragment KBo 9.141 (CTH 761.2.4), which uses the archaic spelling *BE-EL SÍSKUR* for ‘ritual patron’, does not contain any overlaps with the *ikkunatt-* and šarlatt-sacrifices in its column one, even though it features the *nakkušši*-rite in its column four. Contrast KUB 35.16(+), where column four likewise contains the description of the *nakkušši*-rite, whereas column one is devoted to the *ikkunatt-* and šarlatt-sacrifices.</footnote>

<footnote n="107">107 Independent direct evidence for the variation in the number of sacrificial ovids within the Kuwattalla tradition comes from the fragment Bo 4388, where four sheep are mentioned instead of eight. One can surmise that two of them are the white and black sheep of the “main ritual”, but unfortunately the relevant passage is lost in a lacuna.</footnote>
If the portions of the tradition featuring the combination ‘offense (and) fault’ can
be argued to represent secondary insertions associated with Šilalluḫi, this raises the
question of how to process the Luwian incantations that mention yet another pair of
the malign phenomena functioning as miasma—namely, /sayʷidant(a)-/ ‘bond’ and
/widatt(a)-/ ‘blow’, and their cognates. Here the situation is quite different: the rele-
vant pair shows up in substitution rites with demonstrable parallels in CTH 404.1 and
can even share a rite with the triad of /tabaru-/, /tadarijamman-/, and /xirun/d-/
Nonetheless, the contexts featuring different sets of the miasma illustrate their com-
plementary distribution. Thus, the pair consisting of ‘bond’ and ‘blow’ is directed at a
particular set of body parts and human attributes beginning with ‘body’, ‘flesh’,
‘bones’, and ‘joints’ (KUB 35.20, KBo 29.37, KUB 35.73). Furthermore, the same pair
can apparently be acquired by means of seeing with eyes, doing with hands, or hear-
ing with ears (KUB 32.10+ obv. 2’–6’, KUB 35.43+ ii 7–11). In contrast, a different set
of body parts, beginning with ‘four limbs’ and ‘head’, is susceptible to the malign in-
fluence of /tabaru-/, /tadarijamman-/, and /xirun/d-/ (KUB 35.24+ obv. 17’–23’,
KUB 35.43+ ii 12–18 etc.). Furthermore, the same triad can be transferred to the sub-
stitute by means of spitting from the patient’s mouth (KUB 35.43+ iii 36’–37’, KBo 29.3+
iii 24’–25’ etc.). “Pumping up” the Great Ritual with Luwian formulae of different ori-
gin, sometimes featuring contrastive sets of malign influences, helps both to explain
this situation and to account for the length of the respective incantations. We submit
that substitution rites served as focal points for Kuwattalla’s improvisation, which
drew upon a variety of Luwian formulae serving the same basic goal. In this case the
comparison to CTH 404.1 has limited value, since the incantations of this ritual must
have undergone the opposite process of abbreviation in the scribal milieu.

Given the arguments for the evolution of the Kuwattalla tradition presented in
Chapter 3, the divergence among its versions with respect to adding new rites to the
core or appending new incantations to the pre-existing ones no longer appears sur-
prising. It need not, however, undermine our increasing ability to order fragments of the
Kuwattalla tradition vis-à-vis each other, based on the established sequence of core rites.

5.4 INTERPRETING THE SIMILARITIES

Quite apart from the practical value of the similarities between the Kuwattalla and Maštigga traditions for sorting the rites of the former, one may wonder how they can be interpreted in historical terms. We have seen in Chapter 4 that the incantations of the Kuwattalla tradition display a non-trivial resemblance to those attributed to Tun-nawiya, which represents an argument for tracing the origins of Kuwattalla to the Lower Land. In contrast, the structural resemblances of a sort addressed in this chap-ter create a bridge between the Kuwattalla tradition and the area of Kizzuwadna in Southeastern Anatolia, Maštigga’s self-professed land of origin (Miller 2004, 11, fn. 16). As argued in Chapter 4, the formulaic repertoire of a ritual is more resistant to external influence than its setting or structure. Therefore, the observations of the present chapter need not alter the classification of CTH 761.1 as a text reflecting the

DOI: 10.13173/9783447119955.2.289

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and text extracts may require further permission for use from the respective rights holder.
religious practices of the Lower Land. Nevertheless, the question of its secondary
syncretization with a ritual tradition emanating from Kizzuwadna remains intrinsi-
cally interesting and deserves to be approached in earnest. The hypothesis presented
below reiterates in part the conjectures of Mouton and Yakubovich 2021. Certainly, it
is constrained by the dearth of the relevant historical information at our disposal but,
speculative as it is, we hope that it can be considered as a worthwhile speculation.

The obvious starting point for the discussion of the historical Kuwattalla is the
land grant Bo 2004 (Rüster and Wilhelm 2012, 231–44). According to this text, King
Arnuwanda I and Queen Ašmu-Nikkal bestowed large land holdings with several
hundred laborers attached to them upon Kuwattalla. Her title (MUNUSSUHUR.LÁ ‘female
attendant’) is the same as in our corpus, which strongly speaks for the Kuwattalla of
the land grant and the Kuwattalla of the Hittite-Luwian rituals being the same indi-
vidual. But the grant size contributes to the interpretation of the title: the royal cou-
ple was unlikely to bestow such a lavish reward on a female servant that did not be-
long to the palatial hierarchy. It stands to reason that in this case MUNUSSUHUR.LÁ
denoted a court title, roughly equivalent to the ‘lady in waiting’ of European royal
courts. While we do not know whether Kuwattalla performed any rituals in person
while serving at the court of Hattuša, one detail is worth noticing: even the version of
the Great Ritual attributed to Kuwattalla alone (CTH 761.1) uses MUNUSŠU.GI ‘Old
Woman’ as the designation of the celebrant, although the title ‘female attendant’ ap-
pears in the colophon of the same text. Apparently, Kuwattalla as the assumed author
of the ritual did not wish to identify herself as its sole performer.

In contrast, there is no indication that Maštigga ever practiced in Hattuša: all the
texts attributed to this practitioner identify her as a woman of Kizzuwadna. Further-
more, there is a linguistic argument in favor of the indirect transmission of the
Maštigga tradition in Hattuša. Although the earliest available version of the Hittite
ritual against domestic quarrels (CTH 404.1.I.A) undeniably displays Luwian interfer-
ence features, the dialect causing interference is not Kizzuwadna Luwian but rather
the Luwian dialect of Hattuša (Yakubovich 2010a, 33–36). Finally, as already men-
tioned in Section 5.1, Maštigga’s incantations are not cited in full but rather summa-
rized in Hittite in the texts of the rituals. All these observations are consistent with
the hypothesis that the transmission of the Maštigga tradition to Hattuša was the
work of bilingual Hattuša literati interested in Kizzuwadna ritual practices. We are
not taking a stance on whether they actually interviewed Maštigga, availed them-
selves of some Kizzuwadna records of her rituals, or reconstructed them relying on
hearsay and their own imagination.<fnref n="108" /> The only important point, from our perspec-
tive, is that Maštigga was unlikely to be familiar with Kuwattalla’s ritual, while Ku-
wattalla could easily have been familiar with the Maštigga tradition.

The interest for the Maštigga tradition at the court of Hattuša can possibly be ex-
plained against the background of a general interest for Kizzuwadna religion and cul-
ture among the Hattuša elites in the late 15th – early 14th centuries BCE. A likely trig-

<footnote n="108">108 See Miller 2004, 530–32 for the outline of various scenarios for the transmission of Kizzuwadna rituals in Hattuša.</footnote>
ger (or corollary) of this attitude was the marriage of Tudhaliya I of Hattuša and Nik-
kal-Madi, whom many scholars believe to have been a Kizzuwadna princess (de
Martino 2011, 9 with ref.). Its most tangible linguistic manifestation is the accumula-
tion of Hurrian compositions in the archives of Hattuša in the relevant period, some
of which were subsequently translated into Hittite. The same attitude manifested it-
self, for example, in the installation of the Deity of the Night from Kizzuwadna to
Šamuha, which also must have taken place at the time of Tudhaliya I (Miller 2004,
350–56).<fnref n="109" /> This general interest naturally does not preclude the existence of particu-
lar historical circumstances that were conducive to appropriating the Maštigga ritual—
for example, a rift in the royal family that required urgent treatment.<fnref n="110" />

Be that as it may, the popularity of the Maštigga ritual against domestic quarrels (CTH 404.1) at the court manifests itself through numerous copies of this text found in the archives of Hattuša (Miller 2004, 34–37).<fnref n="111" /> Yet, the similarities between the Maštigga and Kuwattalla tradition discussed in Section 5.2 are not conducive to reconstructing scribal adaptation, in which case one would expect more interference of language formulae. It is therefore licit to assume that Maštigga’s ritual was not only studied but actually performed in Hattuša on the appropriate occasions. If so, Kuwattalla could avail herself of certain visual aspects of this ritual, such as the sequence of rites, for crafting her own performance. One can reiterate the hypothesis of Mouton and Yakubovich 2021, 37:

> “Kuwattalla’s Great Ritual was tailor-made in Hattusa to satisfy the taste of her royal patrons and perhaps other members of the local elites. This implied minimal interference with the subject matter of the incantations, especially given the fact that the Luwian language may not have been commonly understood at the time. The main focus must have been on the adjustment of the ritual’s ... performative aspects. Therefore, if our hypothesis holds, the Luwian insertions reflecting the best practices of the Lower Land could coexist with Kizzuwadna templates within the Kuwattalla tradition from the beginning of its written attestation.”

As follows from the above quotation, the incantations of the Great Ritual probably reflect Kuwattalla's own background and were minimally affected by the Maštigga tradition. In addition, Kuwattalla's agency may have manifested itself in commissioning the full record of her Luwian direct speech, as opposed to its Hittite summary of translation. The written transmission of Luwian incantations was not a complete

<footnote n="109">109 Although the Maštigga tradition stands apart from the texts of Kizzuwadna inspiration pertaining to state cult, in that it explicitly addresses private religious needs, private rituals could be easily adapted for royal consumption in the Hattuša setting (see Appendix II, especially II.3), while the whole corpus of written texts stored in the archives of Hattuša was primarily meant for the needs of the state elites in any case.</footnote>

<footnote n="110">110 For the paradigm of investigating the accumulation of provincial rituals in connection with their practical use at a given time period in Hattuša, see Collins 2019.</footnote>

<footnote n="111">111 The last observation is prompted by the lapidary style of rendering incantations in the text of the ritual (see the next paragraph). On a different level, the popularity of this ritual may have triggered the secondary scribal compilation of several other compositions attributed to the Maštigga tradition, as conjectured in Miller 2004, 453. This epigonic creative activity would be distinct from the evolution of the Kuwattalla tradition sketched in Chapter 3 in that the secondary rituals could be linked to separate occasions for their performance.</footnote>
novelty for the Ḥattuša chancery: already in the Old Kingdom period, isolated Lu-
wian passages could be embedded in Hittite texts, sometimes next to their Palaic
counterparts (Yakubovich 2010a, 254–60). But the rendering of extensive Luwian in-
cantations in the texts of the Kuwattalla tradition contrast not only with the lapidary
style of reflecting the Old Woman’s speech in CTH 404.1 but also with the practice of
recording the Tunnawiya tradition, where the incantations, although extensive, are
mostly translated into Hittite. From Kuwattalla’s perspective, the advantage of
transmitting her direct speech verbatim must have contributed to the preservation of
its illocutionary force. In fact, this decision turned the conventional aide-memoire
into a full-fledged prescriptive text, which any Old Woman with an adequate knowl-
edge of Luwian could use for her performance without a need for improvisation or
further guidance. This luxury was not available to the performers of the rituals at-
tributed to Maštigga.

Yet, this attitude was ostensibly in conflict with the traditional scribal perception
of Luwian as a language poorly suited for written transmission. 112 In the Old King-
dom period, the only language to be systematically embedded into Hittite religious
compositions was Hattic. This monopoly was broken, however, in the late 15th –
early 14th centuries BCE. The first Hurrian compositions were arguably imported
from Kizzuwadna during the reign of Tudḫaliya I, while the bulk of Hurro-Hittite
rituals, such as the abridged version of the *itkalzi*-ritual, were probably compiled by
the reign of his grandson Tudḫaliya II. 113 The attendant woman Kuwattalla served
Arnuwanda I, who reigned between these two kings. Could she have availed herself
of the changing scribal attitudes, besides her status as a high-ranked courtier, to in-
sist on the literal rendering of her ritual speech? If so, this would be another example
of Kizzuwadna influence on the text of the Great Ritual, this time rather indirect.

Yet another likely facet of Kizzuwadna influence on the Kuwattalla tradition was
addressed in Chapter 3 and Section 5.3 above. Under unclear circumstances, Kuwat-
talla's Great Ritual was merged in writing with a different composition probably at-
tributed to the Old Woman Šilalluḫi, mentioning different miasma ('offense and
fault') and replete with Hurrian loanwords and borrowed concepts. One can hy-
pothesize that this happened when Kuwattalla had already passed away or out of of-
fice, as she would hardly have approved of such an eclectic practice. The possible mo-
tivation for this decision is addressed in the next section, but its practical result was
quite different: the tradition failed to stabilize. For as long as the scriptoria of Ḥattuša
continued to function, the scribes kept adjusting the text of this hybrid composition,
sometimes removing Kuwattalla's name from it, sometimes restoring it, sometimes
emphasizing particular sub-rituals, sometimes lengthening or shortening the ritual to
a considerable extent. One may legitimately doubt that these modifications were
rooted in actual performance. What survived, despite all the changes, was the consis-
tent use of Luwian for rendering the embedded speech of the ritual practitioners.

<footnote n="112">112 This is particularly clear from the direct speech passages in contemporary Hittite instructions, which were introduced using the adverb *luwili* ‘in Luwian’ but rendered in Hittite (Yakubovich 2010a, 264–66).</footnote>

<footnote n="113">113 For the status of Hurrian in Ḥattuša in the relevant period, see de Martino 2017, 153–56.</footnote>
Summing up, the scenario sketched in this section draws a distinction between the initial formative influence of the Maštigga tradition on the earliest preserved text of the Great Ritual and the subsequent Hurrianization of the Kuwattalla tradition. The former type of interference represented a one-time event, primarily concerned the structure of the ritual, and was arguably rooted in performance. The latter type represented an ongoing process, concerned both structural and lexical features, and largely represented a fruit of scribal ingenuity. A common denominator of both phenomena consists in the repeated cultural impulses that came to Ḩattuša from the southeast and affected the Kuwattalla tradition.

## 5.5 PRAGMATICS OF THE KUWATTALLA TRADITION

The structural comparison between the Maštigga and Kuwattalla traditions need not obfuscate the fact that the rituals included there must have served different purposes. Thus, CTH 404.1, the best-known specimen of the former tradition, is prescribed as a remedy against quarrels among close family members (Miller 2004, 62), while one more ritual attributed to Maštigga could be used as atonement for murder.<fnref n="114" /> In contrast, the purpose of the Kuwattalla tradition appears never to have been fully explained in previous scholarship.<fnref n="115" /> One reason for this is certainly the absence of the relevant information in the incipits and colophons: they contain the names of the performers and the rituals, sometimes also those of the sub-rituals, but one is left in the dark as to why these rituals should have been performed. Such a state of affairs is generally atypical for the texts of Hittite rituals, which normally address the performance to specific inauspicious occasions (see Appendix II). The reason for this discrepancy must remain a matter of speculation.<fnref n="116" /> We submit, however, that some information about the pragmatics of the Kuwattalla tradition can be nonetheless gleaned from its Luwian incantations, while the Maštigga tradition provides a convenient starting point for elucidating our methodology.

<footnote n="114">114 The text CTH 404.3, labelled “ritual for bloodshed” in Miller 2004, contains the following description: “And they place the person behind the sheep: if a man is killed, they place a man there, but if a woman is killed, they place a woman there” (§ 3, Muller 2004, 134–35).</footnote>

<footnote n="115">115 According to Hutter 2003, 253, *halliyattanza* is a sub-ritual against sickness, while *dupaduparša* is a ritual against punishment. The former interpretation is based on an interpretation of *halliš*-, a cognate of *halliyattanza*, as ‘sickness, pain’, which is not accepted in this edition (see already Mouton and Yakubovich 2019, 214). The latter interpretation, again reached on etymological grounds, is no doubt notionally correct but does not go to the heart of the matter, since almost every ritual can be described as ritual against divine punishment. Hutter 2021 generically defines the Kuwattalla tradition as purification rituals.</footnote>

<footnote n="116">116 As a hypothesis, one can propose that the lack of an overt reference to the pragmatics of the Great Ritual reflects Kuwattalla’s personal agency in designing this text. The initiative of compiling the majority of ritual texts must have belonged to the scribes, who were naturally interested in the purposes of the respective rituals. In contrast, Kuwattalla may have taken for granted that the potential clients in Ḩattuša were universally aware of her Great Ritual and needed only the details of its performance.</footnote>
The incantations of Maštigga’s ritual against domestic quarrels routinely mention KA×U ‘mouth’ and EME ‘tongue’, sometimes accompanied by the qualification ‘evil’, as targets of her manipulations. For example, the presentation of a salamander is accompanied by the utterance: “Let its tooth carry away the evil mouth and evil tongue” (§ 29, see Miller 2004, 82–83). While the reference to the evil tongue is ubiquitous in Hittite ritualistic literature, the combination of mouth and tongue can be considered a distinct property of CTH 404.1. On face value, it matches the stated purpose of the ritual, since domestic quarrels are likely to trigger verbal abuse, for which ‘evil mouth and tongue’ is a suitable metaphor. In contrast, CTH 404.3, a fragmentary ritual text likewise attributed to Maštigga but addressing the consequences of a murder, includes a more ominous set of negative concepts (miasma) in its Hittite incantations. Here we encounter the triad [ēšḫananza išḫ]aḫruwanza ḫaratnanza ‘blood(shed), tears, and offense’ (variant ēšḫananza išḫaḫruwanza ḫaratnanza ‘blood(shed), tears, and illness’, which are enjoined not to afflict the ritual patron any longer (§ 7’, see Miller 2004, 136). It seems logical to treat these phrases as combinations of cause and effect: bloodshed and offense are likely to haunt the perpetrator and trigger his/her tears (misfortunes) and illness, unless ritually treated. It is remarkable that the same text also features the pair waštul ḫarrātar ‘fault and offense’ (§ 6’, see Miller 2004, 136), which is directly comparable to the pair of /xaradarsa/ ‘offense’ and /waskulimmantsa/ ‘fault’ used in the Kuwattalla tradition (see Section 5.3).

The Maštigga tradition is by no means unique in encoding the purpose of the ritual in the list of the miasma affecting the ritual patron. Thus, the Puriyanni tradition (CTH 758), which addresses the purification of a house according to the incipits and colophons of the respective texts, uses the triad of /attuwaltsa uttarsa/ ‘evil matter’, /xallissa/ ‘defilement’, and /parattantsa/ ‘impurity’ (see Section 3.1). This triad appears again to collapse cause and effect: evil matter is to be understood as supernatural substance whose presence triggers defilement and impurity. Certainly, the list of the miasma can hardly substitute all the information contained in the colophon—for example, we cannot infer from the triad above that the purification concerns a house and not a person. It seems possible, however, to use the list as a logical starting point for approaching the pragmatics of a ritual if its purpose is not explicitly mentioned.

Turning to the Kuwattalla tradition, we must begin with the triad of /tabaru-/, /tadarijamman-/, and /xirun/d-/, attested in its oldest version CTH 761.1 and in all its subsequent versions (sometimes with certain permutations). While the precise meaning of the first noun is a matter of debate,<fnref n="117" /> the second and third are routinely translated as ‘curse’ and ‘oath’ respectively. The meaning ‘oath’ was offered in Laroche 1955 as a result of establishing a combinatorial equivalence between Luw. /xirun/d-/ and Hitt. *lingai*. It is important, however, to keep in mind that Hitt. *lingai*- can mean not only ‘oath’ but also ‘perjury’ (CHD L, 69a); the same polysemy is likely to be present in Luwian. Since the triad under discussion clearly denotes the miasma in the

<footnote n="117">117 For a tentative translation of /tabaru-/ as ‘judgment’, see the commentary to CTH 761.1.d. For our present purposes, it is no less important that /tabaru-/ and /tadarijamman-/ form an assonance. For the alliterating formulaic expressions in Luwian incantations, see in general Rieken 2022.</footnote>
Kuwattalla tradition, the translation ‘perjury, broken oath’ appears to be contextually
more appropriate. The relationship between /xirun/d-/- and /tadarijamman-/- can
again be conceptualized as cause and effect: the broken oaths turn into curses and
haunt the oath-breakers. If one accepts this interpretation of the miasma, it is condu-
cive to a hypothesis that the Great Ritual was designed as a way of neutralizing nega-
tive effects of oath-breaking.

A corroboration of the proposed analysis comes from those passages of CTH 759–763 where /xirun/d-/- and its derivatives are not flanked by /tabaru-/- and /tadarijamman-/. The clause KBo 9.143 i 20’ [x-x] *hi-i-[ru-ú]*-‘r *un* a-a-ia-an-ta ‘They made an oath’ (CTH 761.2.4) is particularly interesting because it occurs in a Middle Script fragment and is thus close in time to the beginning of the Kuwattalla tradition. It may well belong to the narrative revealing the background of the respective ritual, but the fragmentary character of the passage restricts our interpretation capacity in this case. More telling are the passages where the verb /xirudanija-/- ‘to commit perjury’ is juxtaposed with /tiwadanija-/- ‘to enrage the Sun-god’ (vel sim.), or where the derived nouns /xirutanijamma-/- and /tiwadanijamma-/- occur next to one another.<fnref n="118" /> A good illustration here is KBo 22.254 iii 9’–12’ (CTH 762.3.2): ‘[Whoever per]jured [himself], (whoever) enra[ged] the Sun-god, [be it] (be) a man [o]r woman, the gods who are in Heaven (and) [Ear]th, they did [not l]isten [to him]’. These collocations are admittedly restricted to CTH 759/762, late specimens of the Kuwattalla tradition. They are to be considered together with the divine name /xirudallis tiwats/ ‘Storm-god of the Oath’, which apparently replaces the other Storm-gods in CTH 759/762. As the Kuwattalla tradition underwent modifications in scribal circles, efforts were apparently made to emphasize oath-breaking as the transgression involved.

The reverse test confirms the proposed scenario: there are plainly no contexts in
the tradition that would feature /tabaru-/-and /tadarijamman-/- but not /xirun/d-/-/. This
is all compatible with the scenario that /xirun/d-/- represented the key member of the
triad, also capable of occurring outside the list of the miasma, while /tabaru-/- and
/tadarijamman-/- functioned as its pendants in a standard formula. Crucially, this sce-
nario sheds light on a possible motivation for merging the Kuwattalla and Šilalluqi
traditions. The possibility of identifying the latter with the rites mentioning /xaradar-/
‘offense’ and /waskulimm(a)-/ ‘fault’ instead of with those mentioning the standard
triad has been raised in Section 3.6 and fleshed out in Section 5.3. Now, we find hi-i-
ru-ú-ta-ti in KUB 35.65 i 20’ (CTH 763.1.2), hi-i-ru-[ta-aš-ša-an-za] is attested in
KUB 32.124 iv 5’ (CTH 763.1.3b), and [hi-i-ru-t]a-rša-an-za’ is restored in a parallel
passage in KBo 29.36 l.col 8’ (CTH 763.1.4). All three contexts are admittedly frag-
mentary, but in all three the Luwian term for ‘oath, perjury’ is found in the proximity
of the Luwian terms for ‘offense’ and ‘fault’. In fact, KBo 29.36 l.col 7’–8’ can be restored as
[ha-ra-tar-ša w]a-rša'-ku-[wa-al]-li-im-ma-an-za [... hi-i-ru-t]a-rša-an-za' ‘[offense

<footnote n="118">118 See Rieken 2017b, 242 (with ref.) for a somewhat different and more traditional interpretation of /tiwadanija-/- as ‘to swear by the Sun-god; curse’. Our preferred interpretation is driven by the possibility of taking ‘perjuring’ and ‘enraging the Sun-god’ as yet one example of a “cause and effect” interpretation of asyndetic collocations involving the negative phenomena functioning as miasma in the Kuwattalla tradition.</footnote>
and] and f[au]lt [... of perj]ury'. Furthermore, all three contexts belong to the group CTH 763.1, which was tentatively treated as the core of the Šilalluhi tradition on independent grounds in Section 3.7. One can only conclude that the Kizzuwadna ritual of Šilalluhi was likewise devoted to neutralizing the effects of a broken oath, even though its key formula was different from that of the Great Ritual. The pragmatic similarity of both performances may have prompted the scribes to combine their texts into a single composition, presumably at the point when neither Kuwattalla nor Šilalluhi were any longer in control of the situation.

There are sufficient grounds to believe that oath violations were taken very seriously at the court of Ḩattuša. The Hittite text CTH 427, known as “military oaths” and edited in Oettinger 1976, largely revolves around the retributions to be faced by turncoat soldiers. The agents of punishment in this text are not the deities but the personified Oaths (linkiyanteš), described as capable of seizing a turncoat and bringing about his painful death in a bewildering variety of ways. Nor were the kings of Ḩattuša exempt from punishment for breaking the oath; thus, Muršili II investigated the possibility that the violation of the Kuruštama treaty by his father Šuppiluliuma I triggered the plague that decimated the land of Ḩattuša at the time of his own reign (Singer 2004, 595). As should be clear from the last example, the retribution for a broken oath could reach not only the perpetrator but also his descendants, which implies that even a person with no knowledge of such an offense could scarcely feel safe. Such a state of affairs could generate a public demand for rituals neutralizing the effects of a broken oath, and therefore the pragmatic interpretation of the Kuwattalla tradition proposed in this section appears to be historically justified. But even if the meaning assigned to Luw. /xirun/d-/- undergoes modifications as a result of future research, one must still insist, on combinatorial grounds, that this term represents a key to understanding the purpose of the rituals collected under CTH 758–763.
# APPENDIX I
## THE LUWIAN PROLEPTIC CONSTRUCTION

### I.1 INTRODUCTION

The topic of this essay is the synchronic and historical analysis of a particular Luwian syntactic pattern involving cataphoric clitics, which we shall call the proleptic construction. The rationale for including it in our book consists in the close alignment of this construction with the corpora of Puriyanni and Kuwattalla and related texts (CTH 758–763).

The Luwian proleptic construction may be illustrated by the annotated clauses (I.1–I.3) below, where the cataphoric clitics are marked in boldface. Typical of this construction is the placement of the predicate before the syntactic arguments, which we will call $V_1$. This does not necessarily entail the clause-initial placement of the finite verbal form: see the cases of complex predicates, as in (I.1), or verbs with negation, as in (I.3). The cataphoric clitics invariably appear in Wackernagel position (after the first stressed word within a clause). In accordance with the general principle known in Anatolian Studies as the Watkins-Garrett Rule, they are deployed for doubling the subjects of intransitive clauses, as in (I.1–I.2), and the objects of transitive clauses, as in (I.3).<fnref n="119" /> The indirect objects do not undergo clitic doubling.<fnref n="120" />

#### (I.1) KUB 35.54 iii 34–36 (CTH 758.1)

<table><tr><td>la-a-ú-na-i-mi-ša-aš</td><td>a-aš-du</td><td>[ta]-ru-uš-ša</td><td>ti-ia-am-mi-iš</td></tr><tr><td>launaimmis=<b>as</b></td><td>astu</td><td>tarussa</td><td>tijammis</td></tr><tr><td>wash.PTCP-NOM.SG.C=he.NOM.C</td><td>be.3SG.IMPV</td><td>wood.NOM.C</td><td>earth.NOM.C</td></tr><tr><td>[DINGIR<sup>MEŠ</sup>-e]<sup>n-zi</sup></td><td>[ḫu]-u-uḫ-ḫur-ša-an-ti-in-zi</td><td>GUNN[I-ti-iš]</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>massanintsi</td><td>xuxxursantintsi</td><td>xassanittis</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>god.POSS-NOM.PL.C</td><td>x.NOM.PL</td><td>hearth.NOM.SG</td><td></td></tr></table>

<footnote n="119">119 The only possible exception to this rule is (I.29). Although one can formally analyze $/=as/$ in this example as either a singular subject clitic of the common gender or a plural object clitic of the common gender, the second interpretation is semantically more likely (see already Yakubovich 2012, 332–33)—not that this exception is only apparent, because the accusative nouns probably function as an indirect object in this clause (i.e. the function of the accusative can be defined as *accusativus relationis*); see the translation of the relevant clause in Section I.4.</footnote>

<footnote n="120">120 This formulation simplifies the problem to an extent, since many indirect objects are effectively doubled in Luwian with the help of the particle $/= (t)ta/$. It is, however, to be noted that, first, $/= (t)ta/.$ is not a pronoun and, second, the placement of this clitic does not depend on the position of the arguments vis-à-vis the predicate. Therefore, the syntax of the particle $/= (t)ta/.$ must represent a subject of a separate study.</footnote>
Giškat-ta-lu-uz-zi-ša

kattalutsisa

threshold.NOM.N

'May **they**, the [fr]ame, ground, (household) [deiti]es, [h]uwahhuršant-s, heart[h, and threshold] be washed!'<fnref n="121" />

(I.2) KBo 29.6(+) i 23'-24' (CTH 762.2)

a-ú-i-du-pa-aš-ta

awidu=ba=as=ta

come.3SG.IMPV=but=he.NOM.C=PTCL

h[a-ra-at-na-a-ti]

haratnadi

offense.ABL

ma-[a]l-ha-aš<ša-aš>-ši-iš

malxassassis

ritual.POSS-NOM.SG.C

wa-aš-ku-li-im-ma-a-[ti]

waskulimmadi

fault.ABL

EN-aš

nijas

lord.NOM.SG

'May **he**, the ritual patron come (out) of of[fense] (and) fault!'

(I.3) KUB 32.9(+) obv. 7-8 (CTH 761.1)

ni-i-ša-an

nis=an

PROHIB=he.ACC.C

a[d-du-wa-li-iš

attuwalis

evil.NOM.SG.C

ha-pí-ti

xabidi

bind.3SG.PRS

EME-iš]

lalis

tongue.NOM.C

ma-a[l-ha-aš-ša-aš-ši-in]

malxassassin

ritual.POSS-ACC.SG.C

ad-du-wa-li-iš

attuwalis

evil.NOM.SG.C

EN-an

nijan

lord.ACC.SG

i-iš-[ša-ri-iš]

issaris

hand.NOM.C

'May the e[vil tongue], the evil ha[nd] (...) not bind **him**, the ri[tual] patron!'

The examples adduced above display an apparent contrast with the clauses that are taken from a Late Luwian text in hieroglyphic transmission, the ritual of Zarpiya (CTH 757), and an incantation belonging to the Tauriša tradition (I.4–I.6). In all these examples the V₁ clauses are not accompanied by clitic doubling. It is also to be noted that the V₁ clauses are generally less frequent in these texts than in the Puriyanni and Kuwattalla traditions. The clause-final position of verbal predicates is here the most common one.<fnref n="122" />

(I.4) KARATEPE 1 (Hu.) § 7, see Hawkins 2000, I, 49

|("MANUS<")|su-wá/í-ha-ha-wá/í

suwaxxa=γa=wa

fill.1SG.PRT=and=PTCL

|pa-há+ra/i-wa/i-ní-zi

| | (URBS)

paxrawannintsi

Pahrean.ACC.PL.C

|(〈"〉HORREUM")ka-ru-na-zi

karunantsi

granary.ACC.PL.C

'And I filled up the granaries of Pahra'.

<footnote n="121">121 Here and below, the Luwian singular pronominal clitics are frequently translated into English as plural pronouns. This reflects the peculiarities of syntactic agreement in Luwian, where both cataphoric and anaphoric clitics are commonly used in the singular, being co-referential with a chain of coordinated singular objects.</footnote>

<footnote n="122">122 The relatively more frequent occurrence of V₁ in Late Luwian versions of KARATEPE and ÇİNEKÖY bilinguals is arguably driven by the influence of their Phoenician originals; see Yakubovich 2015b, 44–45.</footnote>
(I.5) KUB 9.31 ii 26-27 (CTH 757), see Starke 1985, 53

a-az-za-aš-ta-an UDU-in-za GU₄-in-za
atstan xawinz(a) wawinz(a)
eat.2PL.LMPV sheep.ACC.PL cow.ACC.PL

‘Eat cattle (and) sheep!’

(I.6) KUB 35.88 iii 11' (CTH 765), see Starke 1985, 227

ú-pa-at-ta-pa-wa-du ša-ar-ri-ia-ni-in 2-ŠU 9-u[n-za ...]
uppatta=ba=wa=du sarrijanin twisu nuntsa
bring.3SG.PRT=but=PTCL=he.DAT scraper.ACC.SG twice nine

‘She brought him ni[ne] scrapers twice’.

The synchronic description of the Luwian proleptic construction is dependent to a great extent on the syntactic theory one chooses. For our present purposes, the most important opposition among syntactic theories is derivational vs. non-derivational. The derivational paradigms, of which the Chomskean theories arguably represent the best-known ones, operate with syntactic movements, such as left and right dislocation. Non-derivational theories calculate surface syntax as a function of various clause input parameters, such as argument structure, communicative organization, and prosodic marking. As for historical syntax, here the derivational approach represents the norm. In particular, if one assumes that the S(O)V/O(S)V clauses were standard for Proto-Luwian or Common Luwian, deviations from this pattern in the later language must be described in terms of syntactic movements. Since word order variation across Luwian texts must have a historical explanation, we will predominantly use derivational terminology in the present essay. At the same time, we will extensively refer to the correspondences between the communicative parameters and surface syntax of Luwian clauses in its final Section I.5.

## I.2 RESEARCH HISTORY AND COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE

All the preceding studies of the Luwian proleptic construction unfolded under a strong influence of Hittitological research. This is hardly a surprise, given the presence of a notionally similar construction in Hittite, as well as the fact that the majority of Luwian specialists also happen to be Hittitologists. At the same time, it is to be noted that the *consensus majorum* accepts the contact-induced, if not calqued, character of the Hittite proleptic construction. In particular, it is disproportionally frequent in the Hittite ritual translated from Hattian (Rizza 2007) and the Hittite-Hurrian bilingual known as the Song of Release (see e.g. Sideltsev 2002, 167–71). Furthermore, the systematic use of clitic doubling just in a particular segment of Maštigga’s ritual against domestic quarrels (CTH 404.1) was shown to reflect an editorial decision (Rieken 2011, 500–502), which in turn implies an ambiguous attitude toward the same construction in the underlying Luwian version of the ritual. Perhaps the Hittite scribe accepted this calque only at the point when he became tired of rephrasing the Luwian
proleptic construction. Clitic doubling is directly linked to “translationese” in Melchert 2015b. Although Sideltsev (2011) argues for the presence of the proleptic construction in original Hittite texts, the small number of tokens (less than 10) adduced in defense of this claim suggests, at the very least, its peripheral character within this corpus.

The Luwian incantations embedded in the Puriyanni and Kuwattalla traditions show a completely different picture. The $V_1$ clauses make up 20–30% of the Luwian clauses in CTH 758–763, and in the majority of cases they are accompanied by clitic doubling. There are no reasons to think that they were translated from another language: the very preservation of the Luwian incantations inside Hittite rituals bears witness to the reluctance of scribes to translate them into Hittite for fear of losing their illocutionary force (Yakubovich 2010a, 280–81). Although the hypothesis of proleptic constructions being particularly common in the Luwian ritual jargon remains possible, the ritualists must have originally targeted the Luwian native speakers and therefore must have used the grammatical patterns of their language.

Nevertheless, the scholars who addressed Luwian syntax in the past explicitly or implicitly based their conclusions on the formal identity of proleptic constructions in Hittite and Luwian. In particular, Rizza (2007, 67) treats the Luwian examples together with those taken from texts translated into Hittite in order to argue for the correlation of the proleptic construction with the presence of long noun phrases or coordinated nouns in the respective clauses. The Luwian proleptic construction is interpreted as a result of right dislocation in Melchert 2003a, 201 and Melchert 2006, 296, while a parallel interpretation is accepted for the Hittite proleptic construction in Melchert 2015b. Melchert’s views on this issue are shared by Sideltsev; see Sideltsev 2011 for Hittite and Sideltsev 2012 for Luwian.123 Finally, the inconsistency of clitic doubling in Hittite $V_1$ clauses in the Maštigga tradition is compared to the parallel Luwian phenomenon in Rieken 2011, 502–3 (with fn. 10).

At this point, however, it is appropriate to remember that Hittite is not the closest known relative of the Luwian language. Even closer are the other languages of the Luwic subgroup, of which Lycian A is the best attested one (Yakubovich 2010a, 6). It is therefore important to observe that the proleptic construction must be reconstructed as a core feature of the ancestor language of Lycian A. Such an approach appears unavoidable in order to account for the phenomenon of Lycian nasalized preterits, the forms that regularly appear in transitive clauses after the particles $m(e)$= and $s(e)$=, in contrast with preterits without nasalization deployed in the other contexts (Adiego 2015, 8). An important correlate of the same distribution is the tendency to

<footnote n="123">123 At the same time, one must stress the key difference between Melchert’s and Sideltsev’s conclusions regarding the sociolinguistic status of the respective constructions. Melchert doubted their linguistic reality, treating the Hittite proleptic construction as an element of “translationese” (see above) and its Luwian formal match as a poetic figure of speech, with no counterpart in the colloquial language (Melchert 2006). Sideltsev, on the contrary, defended the linguistic reality of the Luwian proleptic construction in the only specialized paper that has ever been devoted to this topic thus far (Sideltsev 2012), extending the same conclusion to the Hittite proleptic construction (see above). The authors of this essay lean toward Melchert’s sociolinguistic conclusions with regard to Hittite but support Sideltsev’s stance on Luwian.</footnote>
place the verb before the subject in sentences with the nasalized preterit ("Imbert-Garrett's Rule"). Both the synchronic rule proposed by Adiego and its syntactic correlate may be illustrated through the contrastive pair (I.7) vs. (I.8), where the nasalized and non-nasalized endings are set in boldface. Although the construction exemplified by (I.8) is less frequent in the available Lycian corpus, it is clearly morphosyntactically simpler and therefore must be treated as the starting point of the derivation.

(I.7) TL 103.1.

ebēñnē : xupã : m=ene : prñnawatē : tebursseli
this.here.ACC.SG.C tomb.ACC.SG PTCL=it.ACC.SG.C build.3SG.PRT T.NOM.SG

'Tebursseli built this tomb'.

(I.8) TL 40a.1

[p]ajawa : manax[in]e : prñn[a]wate : prñn[aw]ã : ebēñnē
P.NOM.SG M.NOM.SG built.3SG.PRT building.ACC.SG this.here.ACC.SG.C

'Payawa the Manakhine (title or epithet) built this building'.

Adiego (2015, 26) persuasively argued that “at a certain point in the prehistory of Lycian ... verb-‘fronting’ implied a clitic doubling”. At that point, sentence (7) would have the shape *prñnawat(e)=ē tebursseli ebēñnē xupã, and what eventually emerged as the marker of the nasalized preterit must still have been an object clitic in its expected second position. But the syntax of this reconstructed sentence is essentially identical to that of sentences (I.1–I.3), which exemplify the Kuwattalla and Puriyanni traditions.<fnref n="124" /> The use of the demarcation particles *s(e)*= and *m(e)*= and the dislocation of the topic in front of *m(e)*=, exemplified by *ebēñnē xupã* in (7), must both be regarded as subsequent innovations of the Lycian A language. This secondary process was likewise accompanied by clitic doubling; see the secondary pronominal clitic *=ene* added to *m(e)*= in (7). It is worth noting that the earlier reconstruction of Lycian A nasalized preterits (Garrett 1991 and 1994), while differing from Adiego’s scenario in several important details, likewise operates with the historical sequence of fronting and left dislocation.

Thus, we end up with the contrast between the tendency to postulate right dislocation in the history of both Hittite and Luwian within the framework of Hittitological research,<fnref n="125" /> and the opposite approach operating with verbal fronting and left dislocation in the history of Lycian A. Given the close genetic ties between Luwian and Lycian A, it seems appropriate to double-check the claims regarding the Luwian pro-

<footnote n="124">124 The Luwian clitic /=as/, unlike /=an/, could not have a counterpart affecting the form of the preterit in Lycian A: since word-final -s disappears in this language, its phonetic shape there could only be =e, which would merge with the 3sg.prt ending -te without a trace. Occam’s razor suggests, however, that if the construction with clitic doubling of the direct object in transitive clauses existed once in pre-Lycian, the same construction would also extend itself to redundant subject marking in intransitive clauses, as was the case in Luwian.</footnote>

<footnote n="125">125 The only exception known to us is Giusfredi 2020, 155, where clitic doubling is linked to the fronting of the predicate in (I.3), with the reservation that this is the sole instance of a co-occurrence between these two phenomena known to us.</footnote>
leptic construction that are based on the extrapolation of the Hittite state of affairs. The goal of this essay is to perform this task, based on the comprehensive corpus of Luwian incantations in CTH 758–763.

## I.3 PRAGMATICS OF CLITIC DOUBLING

In this section we will consider the relationship between the two basic elements of the Anatolian proleptic construction—namely, V₁ and clitic doubling. Up to now we have been assuming that the second phenomenon must be treated as the function of the first one in the history of both Luwian and Lycian. Indeed, the V₁ clauses were said to either deploy the cataphoric pronouns or omit them depending on a Luwian dialect, while the Lycian clauses with the particles *m(e)*= and *s(e)*= display obligatory nasalization in certain grammatical forms of transitive verbs. Nevertheless, a refined, corpus-based analysis suggests that the correlation between the two parameters in Luwian is less straightforward.

Some exceptions appear to be trivial or phonologically driven. On the one hand, clitic doubling naturally does not occur in those V₁ clauses where clitics are used in anaphoric functions; see for example (I.18) and (I.20) below. On the other hand, there are cases where the cataphoric pronoun /=ada/ can be reconstructed on the morphological level but is lost in the surface representation of the respective clauses before the locative particle /=tta/ for morphophonemic reasons. The sandhi under discussion was first described for Late Luwian in Rieken 2008, 640–41, while its application to the data of Luwian cuneiform texts represents a topic of Rieken and Yakubovich forthcoming. The instances where the contraction /ada=tta/ → [atta] affects the transparency of clitic doubling include (I.19), (I.26), and (I.36) below.

More interesting is the distributional argument derived from the analysis of the Luwian construction with the particle /tsawi/ ‘here’ used for the presentation of new ritual items (*materia magica*) in the Puriyanni and Kuwattalla traditions. The clitic doubling after *zawi* appears to be optional: it is absent in examples (I.9–I.10) but present in (I.11–I.12).

(I.9) KUB 35.54 ii 31' (CTH 758.1)

za-a-ú-i zi-ia-ar NUMUNHA-na [p]u-u-na-a-ta
tsawi tsijar warwalana punada
here lie.3SG.PRS seed.NOM.PL all.NOM.PL

'Here lie [a]ll (kinds of) seeds'.

(I.10) KUB 35.54 ii 41' (CTH 758.1)

za-a-ú-i-pa t[ap-paš-š]a 'ti'-ia-am-mi-iš
tsawi=ba tappassa tijammis
here=but sky.NOM.SG earth.NOM.SG

'Here (are) h[eav]en (and) earth!'
(I.11) KUB 35.54 ii 8' (CTH 758.1)

<table><tr><td>za-a-ú-i-ia-aš</td><td>ta-lu-up-pí-[iš]</td></tr><tr><td>tsawi=as</td><td>taluppis</td></tr><tr><td>here=it.NOM.C</td><td>t.NOM.SG</td></tr></table>

‘Here it (is), the *taluppi*-lump’.

(I.12) KUB 32.9(+) obv. 3 (CTH 761.1)

<table><tr><td>z[a-ú-i-n]a-aš</td><td>ú-i-ši-ta</td><td>ha-la-a-[li-iš]</td><td>'ta'-lu-up-pí-i-[š]</td></tr><tr><td>tsawin=as</td><td>wisida</td><td>xalalis</td><td>taluppis</td></tr><tr><td>here=it.NOM.C</td><td>appear.3SG.PRT</td><td>pure.NOM.SG.C</td><td>t.NOM.SG</td></tr></table>

‘H[ere] it (has) appeared, the pur[e] *taluppi*-lump’.

According to the distribution stated above, the *zawi*-clauses must trigger clitic doubling: the verb, where it is present, is placed before the subject, and where it is absent, the particle /tsawi/ functions as a predicate on its own (see the English translations). What is then the source of the observed variation? One can hypothesize that the appearance or absence of a cataphoric clitic depends on the assumed familiarity of the doubled referent.126 In particular, the models of heaven and earth and “seeds” (perhaps likewise the models of certain ritual items) represent non-trivial species of *materia magica* that are deployed only one time each in the Puriyanni ritual and therefore can be regarded as unused referents at the moment of their demonstration. In contrast, the *taluppi*-lump of dough represents a purification device common to both Puriyanni and Kuwattalla traditions; therefore, it can be regarded as a pragmatically accessible referent.127 In particular, the context cited below probably precedes the exhibition of this object in the *dupadudarša*-ritual:

(I.13) KUB 35.58 ii? 6'–7' (CTH 759.6)

<table><tr><td>ha-la-li-ša-an</td><td>ta-lu-up-pí-iš</td><td>[ha-la-la-an-nu-wa-at-tu]</td></tr><tr><td>xalalis=an</td><td>taluppis</td><td>xalalanuwattu</td></tr><tr><td>pure.NOM.SG.C=he.ACC.C</td><td>t.NOM.SG</td><td>purify.3SG.IMPV</td></tr></table>

<footnote n="126">126 The assumed familiarity hierarchy is summarized in Lambrecht 1994, 109 with reference to Prince 1981. The main scales of this hierarchy are identifiability (known ↔ unknown) and activation (expected ↔ unexpected). One must stress the difference between this perceptually based hierarchy and the communicative organization of the clause, which reflects the speaker’s intentions and is commonly described with the help of categories such as topic, comment, and focus. The communicative organization of clauses (I.9–I.12) is presumed to be identical.</footnote>

<footnote n="127">127 See further an isolated case of clitic doubling in Late Luwian: ASSUR letter f+g § 9 /kʷis=wa=as antsis hatturas/ ‘What is it, our *hattura-”? (Giusfredi 2020, 153). The noun /xattura-/, whose semantic discussion lies beyond the scope of this contribution, occurs multiple times at the beginning of ASSUR letter f+g and therefore can certainly be regarded as an accessible referent. The pragmatic correlates of clitic doubling are not typologically rare: see for example their discussion with reference to the Macedonian language (Kalluli and Tasmowski 2008, 10–13) and the possible relevance of pragmatic parameters for clitic doubling in other languages of the Balkan linguistic area (Kallulia and Tasmowski 2008, 9). The uniqueness of the referent was invoked in the discussion of Lycian nasalized preterits in Goldstein 2014; for their connection with clitic doubling, see Section I.2 above.</footnote>
[pa]-ta'-aš ḫa-la-li-iš a-aš-du

pa=as

xalalis

astu

then=he.NOM.C

pure.NOM.SG.C

be.3SG.IMPV

'[May] the pure taluppi-lump [purify] him! [Th]en may he be pure!'

Another likely constraint on clitic doubling has syntactic character. Example (I.14) contrasts with KBo 29.3+ iii 17' m[a-am]-ma-al-wa-ia-an EN SÍSKUR-iš ad-du-wa-li-in EME-in 'The ritual patron is b[re]aking it, the evil tongue' (see (I.27) below). In (I.14) the accusative complement directly follows the clause-initial verb, while the Wackernagel clitic is absent. In contrast, the presence of the cataphoric object clitic in (I.27) correlates with the placement of the subject between the verb and its direct object. The analysis of the Luwian corpus confirms the absence of cataphoric object pronouns directly in front of the doubled direct objects. Interestingly enough, there is no parallel constraint on subject pronouns; see (I.11) above as well as (I.28) and (I.30) below.<fnref n="128" />

(I.14) KBo 22.254(+) ii 6-7 (CTH 762.3.2)

ma-am-ma-lu-wa-i [a]d-du-wa-li-in {zi} ṣ[U-in]

mammalwai

attuwalin

issarin

break.3SG.PRS

evil.ACC.SG.C

hand.ACC.SG

[ad-du-w]a-li-in EME-e[n]

attuwalin

lalin

evil.ACC.SG.C

tongue.ACC.SG

'He is breaking the evil ha[nd], the [ev]il tongue'.

The hypotheses outlined above shed new light on the distribution between clauses (I.1–I.3) and (I.4–I.6), which was provisionally accounted for in dialectological terms. It turns out that the referents of these clauses are distributed in terms of assumed familiarity: the referents doubled in (I.1–I.3) are all known and expected in the context of the ritual, whereas those that are not doubled in (I.4–I.6) are either new or at least unused in the available contexts. Furthermore, the direct object immediately follows the Wackernagel position in (I.4–I.6).

These facts admit two interpretations. On the one hand, it is possible to claim that the dialectal distribution between clause (I.1–I.3) and (I.4–I.6) is an illusion; on the other hand, the blocking of clitic doubling in (I.4–I.6) may have had multiple causation. What speaks in favor of the second interpretation is the presence of clauses with V₁ but without clitic doubling in Late Luwian, which cannot be explained by any of the constraints outlined above (KARATEPE §§ 37, 72). Furthermore, at least for Late Luwian we have sufficient examples of V₁ clauses without clitic doubling to claim that this category was absent there altogether or had a marginal status. One cannot rule out the possibility that multiple constraints on Luwian clitic doubling in some Luwian dialects conspired to marginalize it in the variety of Luwian spoken in the first millennium BCE.

<footnote n="128">128 The last two examples, however, are less probative, since the pronominal clitics and subject are separated there by the locative clitic particle /=(t)ta/.</footnote>
Returning to the corpus that is the focus of this discussion (CTH 758–763), one can mention two special cases displaying deviations from the prototypical proleptic construction. The one exemplified by (I.15) lacks precise parallels in our corpus, so the account for it is necessarily speculative. In all probability, we are dealing here with a colloquial turn of phrase, where a pronoun ‘this’ was separated from the nominal group it modifies and fronted to the position after the first clause constitutent. The likely function of this operation was stressing the referent in focus. As a result, the sentence is technically not V₁, and therefore clitic doubling is impossible, despite the fact that the direct object /saɣwidantan widattan/ represents a pragmatically accessible referent.

(I.15) KUB 35.43+ ii 10–11 (CTH 761.3.8)

<table><tr><td>[na-nu-um-p]a</td><td>za-aš</td><td>pa-ra-ad-du</td><td>a-ar-ra-az-za</td><td>⟨-aš⟩</td></tr><tr><td>nanum=pa</td><td>tsas</td><td>parattu</td><td>arratsas</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>now=but</td><td>this.NOM.SG.C</td><td>carry.3SG.IMPV</td><td>white.NOM.SG.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>ḫa-a-ú-i-iš</td><td>[ša-hu-i-t]a-an-ta-an</td><td>ú-i-ta-at-ta-an</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>xawis</td><td>saɣwidantan</td><td>widattan</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>sheep.NOM.C</td><td>bond.ACC.SG</td><td>blow.ACC.SG</td><td></td><td></td></tr></table>

'[Now], may this white sheep carry away the [bo]nd (and) blow!'

Another deviation is illustrated by example (I.16), one that likewise misses a cataphoric pronoun doubling the direct object. This clause, used in Rieken 2011 as an argument for the optional character of clitic doubling in Luwian, must be treated in the context of parallel incantations accompanying the ablution rite, where the triggers of ritual impurity appear in the ablative instead of the accusative. These are KUB 27.26 r.col. 6'-7' il-ḫa-ti-ti [ma-al-ha-aš-ša-aš-ši-iš EN-aš] ta-pa-ru-wa-ti [ta-ta-ri-ia-am-na-ti ḫi-ru-ú-ta-ti] and KUB 35.62 l.col. 2'-3' [e-l]e-el-ḫa-a-i-t[i ma-al-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-ši-iš EN-aš ta-pa-ru-wa-ti ta-ta-ri-ia-am-na-ti ḫi-r]u-ú-ta-ti, which can be both approximately translated: 'The ritual patron is washing himself from judgment, curse, perjury!'—although clause (I.16) belongs to a more archaic version of the Great Ritual than these parallels. Together they bear witness to the syntactic instability of the argument denoting the miasma in the construction under discussion, which can hardly be regarded as containing a prototypical direct object.

(I.16) KUB 32.9(+) rev. 6'-8' (CTH 761.1)

<table><tr><td>i-li-il-ḫa-a-i-ti</td><td>m[a-al]-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-ši-iš</td><td>EN-aš</td></tr><tr><td>ililxai=di</td><td>malxassassis</td><td>nijas</td></tr><tr><td>wash.3SG.PRS=REFL.3SG</td><td>ritual.POSS-NOM.SG.C</td><td>lord.NOM.SG</td></tr><tr><td>t]a-pa-ru</td><td>da-a-ta-[ri-ia-am-ma-an]</td><td>ḫi-ru-ú-un</td></tr><tr><td>tabaru</td><td>tadarijamman</td><td>xirun</td></tr><tr><td>judgment.ACC.SG</td><td>curse.ACC.SG</td><td>perjury.ACC.SG</td></tr></table>

'The r[i]tual [patron] washing himself away (from) [ju]dgment, cur[se], perjury'.

Despite the exceptions cited above, the data of CTH 758–763 are compatible with the existence of a robust proleptic construction combining V₁ with clitic doubling, which
will be confirmed by the more detailed presentation of the data in Section I.4. The
purpose of this section was to demonstrate the existence of additional non-trivial
synchronic parameters governing the presence or absence of clitic doubling in verb-
initial clauses. Its status as an independent phenomenon suggests in turn that it
should not impact the discussion about the origin of V₁ in Luwian.

I.4 FRONTING OR RIGHT DISLOCATION?

The historical account of word order variation in Luwian incantations logically falls
into two parts. On the one hand, one must determine formal mechanisms responsible
for the rise of innovative word order patterns; on the other hand, one must provide
functional motivation behind the existence of such patterns. In this section we shall
concentrate on the formal aspect of the problem, while its functional dimension will
be addressed in Section I.5.

For the ancestor language of Luwian, we assume the basic word order S(O)V/O(S)V,
which directly corresponds to the state of affairs in Hittite and conforms with the
standard reconstruction of verb-final syntax in both Proto-Anatolian and Proto-Indo-
European. As for the relative placement of subject and object, it must have been de-
termined by the pragmatic configurations of individual clauses and, therefore, did not
represent a typologically meaningful parameter. This assumption is again extrapo-
lated from analysis of the Hittite data: calculations on the basis of sub-corpora re-
flecting various genres of Hittite texts show an average ratio of 3:1 between the SOV
and OSV clauses (Molina 2019, 77–78). These figures reflect a cross-linguistic ten-
dency for the alignment between the topic and the subject, showing at the same time
that Hittite, unlike English or French, did not impose additional language-specific re-
strictions in this domain. Both Hittite and Luwian feature morphological case-
marking, which ensures the identification of a clause subject regardless of word or-
der, and the same state of affairs is commonly reconstructed for Proto-Anatolian.
Therefore, there are no grounds to postulate a rigid SOV syntax for Proto-Anatolian
or for any intermediate stage between Proto-Anatolian and Luwian.

Looking for the most plausible scenario for the rise of innovative syntactic pat-
terns in the history of Luwian, we follow the principle of diachronic parsimony. The
fewer syntactic movements one has to assume, the more this contributes to the plau-
sibility of the reconstruction. The practical implication of this maxim is that the
predicate followed by two or more arguments (e.g. VSO, VOS, and VSII, where II
stands for the sequence of two indirect objects) supports the assumption of a leftward
movement, which extracts the predicate from its historical clause-final position and
places it to the left of its arguments. The separate rightward movement of two or
more arguments would naturally represent a less economical solution. In contrast, if
a clause features an argument to the left and right of the predicate (e.g. SVO, OVI),
then rightward movement of an argument remains a preferable alternative to the in-
sertion of the predicate in the middle of the clause, because the target of the move-
ment would be difficult to constrain in the latter case. Only when a single argument
follows the predicate (i.e. VO, VS) does the principle of diachronic parsimony fail to provide a choice between the two alternatives. It is obvious that the methodology outlined above merely yields the most economical scenario for each particular case, while syntactic changes in the real world may sometimes follow redundant pathways. Yet, given a sufficient number of examples on both sides, the adopted procedure can justify the existence of different movement types as the default solution.

The examples illustrating the leftward movement of Luwian predicates (verbal fronting) are listed below. They are based on the case-to-case study of all the Luwian clauses in CTH 758-763, but comprise only those tokens where the restoration of the lacunae has been deemed reliable. Furthermore, we have not included clauses that are identical or almost identical to those already listed. For the sake of brevity, the examples are listed only in syllabic transliteration and are not annotated. The constituents corresponding to the predicate and its arguments are divided by || in both transliteration and translation, while the constituent structure of each example is summarized in its heading. The clitic pronouns, including the cataphoric ones, are translated into English but not counted for segmentation purposes, because their syntactic position is determined by Wackernagel's Law.

(I.17) KUB 35.54 ii 49'-iii 5 (CTH 758.1, VSO)

[ṣ]a-a-an-du-wa-ta || pár-na-an-ti-in-zi [ḥ]u-u-um-ma-ti-iš ḫa-aš-ša-ni-it-ti-iš ḫu-wa-aḥ-ḥur-ša-an-ti-in-zi ti-ia-am-mi-iš § ta-ru-ša-an-ti-iš || ad-[du-wa-al-za ú-tar-ša] ḫal-li-iš-ša ṛpa'-ra-at-ʿta-an'-[za] pu-wa-ti-il-za [n]a-nu-un-tar-ri-š[a] ir-ḥu-u-wa-aš-ša ṛpa'-[r]i-it-tar-u-wa-a-aš-š[a] u-la-an-ta-al-li-ia-an ḫu-it-w[a-li-ia-an]

'May (they) [l]et it go, || (namely) the household (deities), the [p]odium, the hearth, the ḫuwaḥḥuršant-, the ground § (and) the frame (of the house): || the ev[il matter], defilement, impuri[ty], past (or) [p]resen[t], internal (or) e[x]terna[l], of the dead (or) the livi[ng]!'

(I.18) KUB 35.54 iii 9-11 (CTH 758.1, VSI)

a-ta-at-ta pa-ʿri’ pát-za-du || MÁŠ.GAL-iš || ma-a-u-wa-a-ti pa-[a-a]r-ta-a-ti ma-an-na-ku-na-ti si-na-ti

'May (it) carry it away, || the billy goat, || with (its) four legs, with (its) snout, with (its) horns!'

(I.19) KUB 35.55 iii? 8’-10’ (CTH 758.3.2, VSO)

[ka]r-aš-<<wa>>-du-wa-at-ta {x} ṛa'-[ap-pa || EN SISKUR || a-ad-d]u-wa-al-za ú-tar-š-[a ḫal-li-iš-ša pa-ra-at-ta-an-za]

'May (he) se]parate it a[gain, || the ritual patron, || the ev]il matter, [defilement (and) impurity]!'

(I.20) KUB 32.10+ obv. 7’-8’ (CTH 761.1, VSI)

[la?–a?–l]a?–an-du-wa-ta || DINGIRMEŠ-zi || du-ʿú’–[pa]-ʿni-ia’–ti š[a-ḥu-i-da-an-tal-li-ia-ti ú-i-t]a-ʿan’–tal-li-ia-ti

'May (they) [ta]ke it, || the gods, || through the one for str[ik]ing, the one for b[inding, the one for sm]iting!'

DOI: 10.13173/9783447119955.2.313

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(I.21) KUB 32.10+ obv. 9'-10' (CTH 761.1, VSO)

[la-a-la-ad]-du-pa-aš || ma-al-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-ši-iš EN-aš || d[a-a-ru-uš-ša mi-i-ša-an-za ḫa-a-aš-ša ḫal-ḫal-za-ni-in wa-ra-an-na]-r'a'-ḫi-ša i-ú-na-ḫi-ša r'la'-al-pí-in [ku-wa-an-na-ni-in ma-aš-ša-na-al-li-in KASKAL-an]

'May (he) [tak]e them (back), || the ritual patron, || (his) s[hape, flesh, bone(s), joint(s), [spee]ch, mobility, eyelash, [eyebrow(-hair), divine path]! '

(I.22= I.3) KUB 32.9(+) obv. 7-10 (CTH 761.1, VOS)

ni-i-ša-an ḫa-pí-ti || ma-a[l-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-ši-in] EN-an || a[d-du-wa-li-iš EME-iš] ad-du-wa-li-iš i-iš-[ša-ri-iš ta-pa-ru-wa-aš-ši-iš da-a-ta-ri-ia-am-na-aš-ši-iš EME-iš] ḫi-ru-ta-aš-š[i]-iš EME-i[š MU.KAM-iš ad-du-wa-li-iš ITI.KAM-aš ad-du-wa-li-iš] wa-aš-pa-an-ta-aš-[š]i-in-zi e-[er-ḫu-wa-an-zi ma-ia-aš-ši-iš EME-iš]

'May (it) not bind him, || the ri[tual] patron, || the evil ha[nd, the tongue of judgment, curse], the tongu[e] of perjury, [bad year, bad month], the int[eriors] of the shro[u]ds, [the tongue of the multitudes]!'

(I.23= I.16) KUB 32.9(+) rev. 6'-7' (CTH 761.1, VSO)

i-li-il-ḫa-a-i-ti || m[a-al]-ha-aš-ša-aš-ši-iš [EN-aš || t]a-pa-ru da-a-ta-[ri-ia-am-ma-an] ḫi-ru-ú-un ma-a-ia-a[š-ši-i]n EME-in

'(He) is washing himself, || the r[i]tual [patron], || (from) [ju]dgment, cur[se], perjury, the tongue of the multi[tu]des'.

(I.24) KUB 32.9(+) rev. 8'-11' (CTH 761.1, VSII)

pa-[aš ḫa-la-l]i-iš a-aš-du || ma-a[l-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-ši-iš EN-aš] || ma-a-aš-ša-na-an-za pár-ra-a[n || a]d-du-wa-la-ti EM[E-ti ad]-du-wa-la-ti i-iš-š[a-ra-ti] ta-pa-ru-wa-aš-ša-an-za-t[i d]a-a-ta-ri-ia-am-[na-aš-ša-a]n-za-ti ḫi-ru-ta-aš-ša-a[n-za-ti] ma-a-ia-aš-ša-an-za-ti EME-ti

'So may [he] be [pur]e, || the ri[tual patron], || from the [e]vil tong[ue, the e]vil han[d], from (the tongue) of judgment, cur[s]e, from (the tongue) of perjur[y], from the tongue of the multitudes || in the presenc[e] of the deities!'

(I.25= I.15) KUB 35.43+ ii 9-11 (CTH 761.3.8, VSO)

[na-nu-um-p]a za-aš pa-ra-ad-du || a-ar-ra-az-za<-[aš] ḫa-a-ú-i-iš || [ša-ḫu-i-t]a-an-ta-an ú-i-ta-at-ta-an

'[Now], may this one carry (it) away, || the white sheep, || the [bo]nd (and) blow!'

(I.26) KBo 29.3+ ii 7-10 (CTH 760.2, VII)

r'a'-an-ta-pa-at-ta a-ar-la-nu-wa-at-ta || SÍSKUR-aš-ša-an-za<-[an] EN-ia || ḫu-i-it-wa-la-ḫi-r'ti' a-an-na-ru-um-ma-ḫi-ti MU.KAMHA GÍD.DA EGIR.U4-MPHATI DINGIRMES-aš-ša-za-ti wa-aš-ša-ra-ḫi-ta-ti ḫu-i-tum-ma-na-ḫi-ta-ti

'He has replaced them || for the ritual patron, || with life, virility, long years, future time, favor (and) enlivenment of the deities'.

(I.27) KBo 29.3+ iii 17'-19' (CTH 760.2, VSO)

m[a-am]-ma-al-wa-ia-an || EN SÍSKUR-iš || ad-du-wa-li-in EME-in ta-r'a'-ta-ri-ia-ma-ma-na-aš-ši-in ḫi-i-ru-ta-aš-ši-in a-aš-ši-wa-an-ta-at-ta-na-aš-ši-in {x] ma-a-i-ia-aš-ši-in EME-in
‘(He) is b[re]aking it, || the ritual patron, || the evil tongue, (the tongue) of curse, perjury, misery, the tongue of the multitudes’.

(v28) KUB 35.71+ ii 6–9 (CTH 759.12, VSI)

a-ú-i-du-wa-a[š-ta] || ma-al-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-š[i-iš EN-aš || Ṫ]RUNITa-nu-wa-wa-an-na-aš-ša-ti D[ŠTAR]-aš-ša-a-an-za-[ti D[]Hi-š]u-ú-i-ia-aš-ša-a-za-ti ḫa-at-ta-aš-‘tar’-r[a-ti] ‘May h[e] come (out) || the ritu[al patron], || from the terror of Šawoška of Niniveh (and) [He]šūe!’

(I.29) KUB 35.11 ii 8’-11’ (CTH 760.6, VSI)

ni-iš-pa-aš a-aḫ-ḫa-ša-[am-mi-iš || SÍSKUR-iš EN-aš || da-a-ru-uš-ša] mi-ša-an-za
ḫa-aš-ša ḫ[al-ḫal-za-ni-in ú-wa-ra-an-na-a-ḫi-ša] i-ú-na-a-ḫi-ša la-[al-pí-in ku-
wa-an-na-ni-in] DINGIRMES-li-in [KASKAL-an]
‘May he not be separat[ed, || the ritual patron, || with respect to (his) shape],
flesh, bone(s), j[oints, speech], mobility, ey[elash, eyebrow(-hair)], divine [path]!’

(I.30) KBo 29.6(+) i 21' (CTH 762.2, VSI)

a-ú-i-du-wa-aš-ta || ma-al-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-ši-[i]š EN-aš || ḫa-ra-at-na-[a-ti wa-aš-ku-
li-im-ma-a-ti]
‘May he come, || the ritual patron, || (out) of offens[e (and) fault]!’

The data adduced above can be contrasted with a small group of cases where our
formal test supports the historical analysis in terms of right dislocation. It is to be
immediately noted that the noun phrases dislodged in (I.31–I.33) all consist of three
or more word-forms. This agrees well with the observations of Rizza 2007 about the
influence of the length of nominal constituents on their syntactic position in the lan-
guages of Ancient Anatolia. In more general terms, one can invoke here the so-called
Behagel’s Fourth Law, which mandates that, given two phrases, when possible, the
shorter precedes the longer. Within a derivational framework, this can be reformu-
lated as the right dislocation of heavy noun phrases. In contrast, if one attempted to
account for clauses (17–30) in terms of double rightward movement, one would have
to assume that nouns and short noun phrases such as ‘gods’, ‘ritual patron’, ‘white
sheep’, and ‘billy goat’ can likewise be moved in the rightward direction.<fnref n="129" />

(I.31) KUB 35.54 iii 6–8 (CTH 758, IVS)

a-ta a-ap-pa za-aš-ta-an-za DINGIRMES-an-za pár-ra-an || ni-iš || im-ma-ra-aš-ša
DIM- aš-ša-an-za ḫal-li-iš-ša
‘Afterward, in the presence of these deities || may (it) not (be) || the defilement
of the Storm-god of the Open Country!’

(I.32) KBo 29.3+ ii 26–27 (CTH 760.2, SVO)

a-an ti-ia-am-ma-aš-ši-iš DUTU-za || da-ra-ú-id-du || ‘ta-ta-ri’-ia-am-ma-na-aš-
ši-in ḫi-ru-ta-aš-ši-in EN-an
‘Him, may || the Sun-goddess of the earth || deliver, || (namely) the lord of curses
(or) perjuries!’

<footnote n="129">129 A point relevant to this discussion is that the term ‘ritual patron’ primarily characterizes Ḥattuša’s scribal jargon, while the same person was probably called by name in the oral performance of the respective ritual. See Appendix II.</footnote>
(I.33) KUB 32.8(+) iii 11'-14' (CTH 759.10, IIVO)

ḫar-ma-a-ḫa-ti-ti-ia-an-ta || tap-pa-a-ni-in || la-a-at-ta || za-an-da du-ú-pa-i-mi-
in iš-ša-ri-in za-an-da du-ú-pa-i-mi-in EME-in

'It, from his head, || (as) a hair || (he) took, || (as) the downstriking hand (and)
the downstriking tongue'.

Another small group of examples that support the historical scenario of right dislocation feature the phenomenon known as *Right Node Raising* in generative linguistics. This yields a construction where the identical and co-referential elements of two or more parallel clauses are placed on their right periphery. The prototypical examples illustrating the *Right Node Raising* in our corpus are (I.34–I.35), where the peripheral position is occupied by the subject phrase and direct object phrase respectively. It is to be noted that all the noun phrases placed on the rightmost periphery in (I.34–I.35) are metrically heavy and structurally complex, as was also the case in (I.31–I.33).<fnref n="130" />

(I.34) KUB 32.8(+) iii 26'-29' (CTH 759.10)

ta-a-in-ti-ia-aš a-a-ia-ru || ma-al<-li>-i-ti-ia<-aš> a-a-ia-ru || za-a[n-da] du-ú-pa-
im-mi-iš 'iš-ša'-[ri-iš] 'za-an'-[d]a du-ú-pa-i[m-mi-iš EME-iš]

'May they become oil, || may they become honey, || the downstriking han[d]
(and) downstriki[ng tongue]!'

(I.35) KBo 29.3+ ii 21-24 (CTH 760.2)

ku-i-ša-an ša-aḫ-ḫa-ni-iš-ša-at-ta || ku-i-ša-an ip-pa-tar-ri<-iš>-ša-at-ta || EN
SÍSKUR-aš-ši-in ALAM-ša mi-i-ša-an-za ḫa-aš-ša ḫal-ḥal-za-ni-in ú-wa-ra-an-na-
ḥi-ša i-ú-na-ḥi-ša la-al-pí-in ku-wa-an-na-ni-in ma-aš-ša-na-al-li-in KASKAL-an

'Whoever restrained it, || whoever distrained it, || (namely) the ritual patron's shape, flesh, bone(s), joint(s), speech, mobility, eyelash, eyebrow(-hair), divine path!'

Summing up the findings of this section, one may state that the innovative Luwian constructions accounted for in terms of verbal fronting are more than twice as frequent as their counterparts for which the analysis in terms of right dislocation is more economical. Given this distribution, it is truly remarkable that the right dislocation of long constituents in Luwian has already been addressed in scholarly literature (see Section I.2), while verbal fronting accompanied by clitic doubling has thus far escaped scholarly treatment (with the exception of one example in Giusfredi 2020, 155). It stands to reason that the functional interpretation of the proleptic construction should now pay particular attention to the instances of left dislocation (verbal fronting).

## I.5 PRAGMATICS OF VERBAL FRONTING

A brief look at the data collected in Section I.4 should suffice to demonstrate the predominance of the modal (imperative and prohibitive) forms of the predicate, which are present in thirteen out of eighteen tokens. Since the Luwian corpus of CTH 758-

<footnote n="130">130 See Sideltsev 2012, 773: 'The dislocation of structurally heavy NPs is sufficiently distinct from the dislocation of light NPs to constitute a separate taxonomic category' [translated from Russian].</footnote>
763 entirely consists of incantations, a large number of modal sentences is in itself not surprising. Nonetheless, corpus analysis shows their uneven distribution across different Luwian insertions. As an example of a Luwian passage featuring twenty indicative clauses in a row, one can cite KUB 35.24+ obv. 5'–23' (CTH 761.1.c).

Another peculiarity of the same data, this time directly connected with the subject matter of the preceding section, is the absence of verb-final clauses, while in thirteen out of eighteen clauses the predicate is placed before all its arguments. In contrast, the control “indicative” passage KUB 35.24+ obv. 5’–23’ features all its predicates, except for the last three, in final position. Furthermore, the last three verbs, placed clause-initially (KUB 35.24+ obv. 19’–23’), were re-interpreted in a later version of the same incantation (KUB 35.43+ iii 24’–32’, CTH 761.3.8) as imperative forms!

The propensity of Luwian imperative clauses toward V₁ can be ostensibly illustrated with the passages (I.36–I.37), the last one partially overlapping with (I.30). We find here chiasms with a morphological distribution: the participial forms are in clause-final position, while the imperatives are placed clause-initially.<fnref n="131" /> The relevant forms are set in boldface below.

(I.36) KUB 35.54 ii 8'-13' (CTH 758.1)

za-a-ú-i-ia-aš ta-lu-up-pí-[iš a-aš-ta] ku-ra-ma-ti ḫa-ar-ta-t[i kar-ša-am-mi-iš] ku-lu-uš-ta-na-ti ta-a[l-ku-um-mi-iš] § a-at-ta ta-al-ku-du 'a'-[at-ta kar-aš-du] EN SÍSKUR

'Here (is) the *taluppi*-lump. [It has been [separated] by cutting (and) crushin[g] (and) flat[tened] by the rolling tool. § (Likewise), may he flatten them! [May] he [separate them], the ritual patron!'

(I.37) KBo 29.6(+) i 22'-24' (CTH 762.2)

za-aš-pa-at-ta ku-wa-ti-in za-am-mi-ta-'a-ti'-iš NA4ḥar-ra-a-ti [...] a-ú-i-im-mi-iš a-ú-i-du-pa-aš-ta ma-[a]l-ḥa-aš<-(ša-aš)-ši-iš EN-aš ḫ[a-ra-at-na-a-ti] wa-aš-ku-li-im-ma-a-[ti]

'As this flour is *coming* from the millstone [(and) ...], (likewise), may he *come*, the ritual patron, (out) of of[fense] (and) fault!'

The correlation between the proleptic construction and modal clauses (*Götteranrufungen*) has been independently observed in the ritual traditions associated with the names of Tunnawiya and Maštigga (Rieken 2011, 500–502). One of the conclusions of the same paper is the translated character of incantations in both traditions, which manifests itself, among other things, in the distribution of clauses with clitic doubling. As argued elsewhere in the present book, both the Tunnawiya and Maštigga traditions feature incantations that are ultimately translated from Luwian, while the data in the present essay support the correlation between the proleptic construction and modal clauses within the Puriyanni and Kuwattalla tradition. This supports Rieken’s conclusions about the Tunnawiya and Maštigga traditions, indicating at the same time that the proleptic construction was aligned with modal clauses in a whole group of Hittite-Luwian rituals.

<footnote n="131">131 These are not the only examples of chiasms in Luwian incantations; see Melchert 2006, 297. The same figure of speech is also attested in Lycian B (Shevoroshkin 2012) but with no connection to modal clauses.</footnote>
Furthermore, one can state that the Luwian language does not stand alone in its propensity toward VS(O)/VO(S) word order in imperative clauses. The same tendency is patent in a number of European languages and was recently studied within the generative paradigm in Wratil 2010. For example, the verb-initial imperative clauses such as *Love ye *youre* enemys or *Do thou have mercy on us* were typical in Early Modern English, otherwise an SOV language (Wratil 2010, 175). The parallels of such a kind suggest that the Luwian proleptic construction is not a typological unicum and can thus be studied with the application of discourse-functional categories that were elaborated on the basis of other languages.

It goes without saying that not all the Luwian contexts can yield satisfactory in-
terpretation in terms of communicative structure. The study of ancient languages,
where phrasal intonations usually remain unknown, lacks the most efficient tool for
determining pragmatic configurations. In some cases, however, the discourse syntax
is conducive to formulating meaningful hypotheses even in the absence of prosodic
information. This is most clearly the case of chiasms in (I.36–I.37): the imperative
predicates function there as established topics. Thus, in (I.36) both flattening and sev-
ering belong to the comments in the first clause, which ensures the status of prag-
matic presupposition for the same concept in the next clause, where the comment is
aligned there with syntactic arguments. In both clauses the topic precedes the com-
ment, which is the normal pragmatic configuration in clauses without a marked fo-
cus. The only peculiarity of this passage consists in the alignment of the topic with
the predicate in the second clause.

The chiasms addressed above are to be distinguished from pseudo-chiasms, when
an SOV clause in a Hittite frame contrasts with the parallel VSO clause in a Luwian
insertion. This is the state of affairs in (I.38) and (I.39), which supply broader contexts
for examples (I.16) and (I.27) respectively. After the ritual patron performs a particu-
lar gesture, the Old Woman interprets it in supernatural terms. From her viewpoint,
the action of the ritual patron must have constituted the focus of the situation, while
the ritual patron and the miasma affected by his action (e.g. ‘curse’ or ‘evil tongue’)
represent familiar entities lying outside the focus. The marked focus is frequently
situated in clause-initial position; see the English sentences with focus particles such
as *even* or *only*. Once again, the peculiarity of these constructions consists in the un-
usual alignment between the predicate and the narrow focus.

(I.38) KUB 32.9(+) rev. 5'–8' (CTH 761.1)

nu=za=kán BEL SÍS[KUR QATI=ŠU] ārri n[u] M[UNUSŠU.GI k]išša[n tezzi] i-li-il-ḫa-a-
i-ti m[a-al]-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-ši-iš [EN-aš t]a-pa-ru da-a-ta-[ri-ia-am-ma-an] hi-ru-ú-un
‘The rit[ual] patron washes [his hands] an[d the] O[ld Woman says]: “(He) is
washing himself, the r[i]tual [patron], (from) [ju]dgment, cur[se], perjury,
[the tongue of the multi[tu]des]”’.

(I.39) KBo 29.3+ iii 13'-14', 16'-17' (CTH 760.2)

[nu EN SÍSKUR] iš[naš EME-uš iš]našš=a kiššaruš [arḫa d]uwarn[iš]kiuwan dāi
(...) MUNUSŠU].GI=ma kišan ḫukkiškezzi m[a-am]-ma-al-wa-ia-an EN SÍSKUR-iš
ad-du-wa-li-in EME-in
‘[The ritual patron] starts [b]rea[ki]ng [the tongues] of do[ugh] and the hands of [d]ough (...). [The Old] Woman conjures thus: “(He) is **breaking** it, the ritual patron, the evil tongue (...)”’.

A different type of interaction between the Hittite frame and the Luwian insertion is exemplified by the situation when the ritual specialist comments on the desirable result of the ritual patron’s gesture. In this case the Luwian incantation begins with the imperative clause, where the predicate is likewise placed clause-initially. Thus, clause (I.1), ‘May they be washed, the [fr]ame, ground, (household) [deiti]es, [h]uwaḫḫuršant-s, heart[h, and threshold]!’, is uttered after the ritual patron receives a vessel filled with water. The relevant pragmatic configuration can arguably be analyzed in terms of sentence focus, which implies the absence of presupposed constituents (see Lambrecht and Polinsky 1997). One of the common strategies of encoding sentence focus is verb-initial word order (Lambrecht 2000, 634–35). The proposed analysis in terms of sentence focus appears plausible not only for (I.1) but also for several other verb-initial imperative clauses at the beginning of Luwian incantations.<fnref n="132" />

Yet, the most ostensive illustrations of the sentence-focus construction in Luwian are examples (I.9–I.12), which also start Luwian incantations but, unlike the passages discussed above, feature the particle /tsawi/ ‘here’. These clauses are used for the presentation of various ritual objects, which agrees well with the basic presentation function of sentence focus (Lambrecht 2000, 623; see in particular the construction introduced by there is in English). We are also dealing here with consistent V₁ word order, with the caveat that the predicate is not always expressed by verbal phrases. These examples are not included in Section I.4, because their analysis in terms of verbal fronting cannot be formally proven, but the short noun phrases on the right periphery do not support their analysis in terms of right dislocation. Furthermore, as we saw in Section I.3, not all of these examples feature clitic doubling, which implies that sentence focus does not automatically trigger proleptic constructions in Luwian.

We must stress that the presence of several pragmatic configurations correlating with verbal fronting in Luwian does not in itself verify the proposed formal analysis, just as the presence of long constituents on the right periphery does not constitute an absolute proof of the analysis in terms of right dislocation. We rather suggest that our approach, implying multiple motivations for different syntactic movements in the history of Luwian, has a better explanatory force than the previous accounts. Those who wish to refute or refine our conclusions must present additional formal or functional parameters that will display even better correlations with the observed empirical data.

<footnote n="132">132 In the discussion of constructions with sentence focus, one must keep in mind that the clause-initial predicate may be expressed by a complex verbal form, as in example (I.1), or a verbal phrase headed by a light verb. The last interpretation is possible in the instance of passage (I.34), which follows the act of burning a symbol of hostile witchcraft over a vessel filled with oil and honey. The alternative interpretation of the same clause involving the right dislocation was proposed in Section I.4. One cannot exclude the possibility that two different triggers conspired to yield the proleptic construction in this case.</footnote>
DOI: 10.13173/9783447119955.2.313

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APPENDIX II

SISKUR AND EN SISKUR IN HITTITE AND LUWIAN

II.1 INTRODUCING THE PROBLEM

A number of ritual texts preserved in the archives of Ḩattuša are classified as SISKUR (with the variant SÍSKUR), which is usually translated as ‘ritual’ or ‘offering’, and deploy the heterogram EN SISKUR (with the common variants BE-EL SÍSKUR and EN SÍSKUR) as the generic designation of the ‘ritual patron’.133 The appearance of these terms is not limited to compositions with Luwian insertions, and indeed in what follows we will be referring to their use in a variety of texts belonging to different genres. Yet the meaning and distribution of SISKUR and EN SISKUR in Hittite-Luwian texts are peculiar enough to potentially shed light on their semantic evolution in Anatolia. Furthermore, within the Luwian corpus, their appearance is closely aligned with the Pu-riyanni and Kuwattalla traditions (CTH 758–763),134 while the study of graphic variation in the rendering of EN SISKUR contributes to the relative dating of the relevant tablets. This constitutes the rationale for treating these two heterograms in some detail as one of the appendices to the present book.

The origin of both terms predictably lies in Mesopotamia. The Sumerogram SISKUR normally corresponds to *niqû* ‘offering, sacrifice’ in Akkadian texts, even though Sumerian texts of the late third millennium BCE use *sizkur* in a broader sense, with reference to rituals that include sacrifice (Limet 1993). The Sumerogram SISKUR.SISKUR = SÍSKUR, historically a collective form of SISKUR, appears to have been used interchangeably with SISKUR in the second millennium BCE. The Akkadian reading of the Sumerogram EN is *bēlu* ‘lord, owner’; within the Akkadian corpus, the phrases headed by the form *bēl* in the construct state can refer to individuals related in a whole variety of ways to the concept expressed by the dependent noun (CAD B, 198b). For example, *bēl dami* (lit. ‘the lord of blood’) means ‘slayer’, while *bēl dīni* (lit. ‘the lord of judgment’) means ‘adversary in court’ (CAD D, 80a, 155b–56a). The meaning of the phrase *bēl* siskur is more compositional: beginning at least in the Old Babylonian period it is usually to be understood as *bēl niqê* (or perhaps *bēl niqâti*) ‘owner of the sacrificial animal, beneficiary of the sacrifice’. Sometimes, the kind of sacrificial animal is spelled out: *bēl* udu.siskur(2) refers to the owner of a sacrificial sheep (CAD N2, 253b).

<footnote n="133">133 For the notion of heterogram, see Kudrinski and Yakubovich 2016, 55. The generic term is used in this context because the spelling variant BE-EL SÍSKUR combines Sumerographic and Akkadographic elements.</footnote>

<footnote n="134">134 The heterograms under discussion are also common in the Hittite text of the Tunnawiya tradition, where the Luwian incantations are attested to a limited extent (see Chapter 4).</footnote>
Within Hittite, the Sumerogram SISKUR (also SÍSKUR) can also be frequently trans-
lated as ‘ritual offering, sacrifice’.<fnref n="135" /> Yet, more widely attested, or at least more
widely known, is its use with reference to the Hittite rituals performed on specific
occasions, usually in connection with disasters and misfortunes attributed to super-
natural causes. Many of these rituals are associated with specific specialists, such as
Puriyanni, Kuwattalla, and Śilalluḥi in the instance of the texts treated in this book.
EN SISKUR ‘ritual patron’ designates the commissioner of such an ad hoc ritual, who
pays for it, takes part in it alongside a religious professional, and expects to be posi-
tively affected by its performance.<fnref n="136" /> Certainly, the Anatolian rituals normally in-
volved offerings to the gods, but this is not their defining property. In the nomencla-
ture of genres of Hittite written texts, they are distinguished from festivals (EZEN₄),
which likewise involve ritual offerings, including animal sacrifices. The festivals tend
to represent periodic celebrations, typically occurring once a year or once a month,
although they could also be organized on the occasion of an auspicious event, such as
a prince’s installation ritual EZEN₄ ḫaššumaš (Mouton 2011). The Anatolian dichotomy
between EZEN₄ ‘festival’ and SISKUR ‘ritual’ does not follow in any way from the
Mesopotamian use of SISKUR ‘offering’.

An important asymmetry between the two genres merits notice. The Sumero-
graphic combination EN SISKUR ‘ritual patron’ does not have a counterpart ‘festival pa-
tron’. The reason for this discrepancy has to do with the dominant purpose of the fes-
tivals in the Kingdom of Hattuša: the whole community, commonly represented by
the king, invests in a cultic festival and, therefore, expects to benefit from it. In con-
trast, the commissioner of a ritual can be either a king or a private individual. For the
alternation between EN SISKUR and LUGAL in parallel versions of the same rituals, see
Section II.3 below.

Although the explicit contrast between festivals and rituals is usually taken for
granted in Hittitological research, it has emerged only gradually within the history of
Hittite textual tradition. The records of the supposedly oldest religious performances
from this region, which are preserved on the so-called Old Hittite Script tablets and
published in transliteration in Neu 1980, do not use the terms EZEN₄ or EN SISKUR at
all, while the only attestation of SISKUR in this corpus (KUB 43.27 i 2'; Neu 1980, 199)
can be translated as 'offering'. One way of approaching this problem is to take into
consideration the prominence of the royal family in the oldest recorded perform-
ances. Since the Hittite religious texts under discussion constantly mention the king,
and sometimes the queen, as their main actors (see Neu 1983, 253-57, 265-67), the

<footnote n="135">135 This meaning is particularly clear in some context featuring the verb šipand- ‘to sacrifice, dedicate’—e.g. KBo 33.20 i 1: mān=za ANA pU kuiš SÍSKUR šarraš šipanti ‘If one sacrifices the šarra-offering to the Storm-god on his own behalf’ (see CHD Š, 394b). It likely motivates the exceptional use of SISKUR for the rendering of šipand-, as opposed to the usual Sumerogram BAL; see CHD Š, 395a.</footnote>

<footnote n="136">136 See the collocation KUB 30.36 iii 6–7 EN SISKUR ŪH-y-anza UN-aš ‘the ritual patron, the bewitched person’. Other common English translations of EN SISKUR in Hittite texts as ‘patient’ or ‘ritual client’ emphasize the role of the ritual patron as the beneficiary of privately sponsored rituals. In contrast, the translation ‘sacrificer’ (see also German ‘Opfermandant’) harks back to the inherited meaning of EN SISKUR.</footnote>
distinction between the performances serving the king or the royal couple in their private capacity or as representatives of the Hattuša religious community is somewhat blurred.<fnref n="137" />

Thus, one can formulate a hypothesis that the Sumerogram SISKUR/SÍSKUR acquired the secondary meaning ‘ritual’ at some point in early 14th century BCE, which reflected the formation of the new genre, or the growing familiarity with such a genre on the part of state bureaucracy. Naturally, the Hattuša scribes could develop interest in privately sponsored rituals, as a result of internal factors or of external influence or of both. The choice among these options must be empirically grounded.

The rest of this appendix will be organized as follows. In Section II.2 we will review the proposed Hittite readings of SISKUR/SÍSKUR with the conclusion that the respective heterograms largely remained artefacts of written texts and failed to find stable counterparts in Hittite. Section II.3 will address the use of EN SISKUR in Hittite texts and question the availability of the term for ‘ritual patron’ in the spoken register of the Hittite language. In Section II.4 we will contrast this state of affairs with the situation in Luwian, where both heterograms have unambiguous phonetic readings, while SISKUR primarily means ‘offering’. The topic of Section II.5 is the distribution between the graphic variants SISKUR/SÍSKUR and BE-EL SÍSKUR / EN SÍSKUR / EN SISKUR in the compositions treated in this book and, secondarily, in other Hittite texts. In the concluding Section II.6 we will offer a hypothesis on how a word for ‘offering’ may have evolved into a designation for a privately sponsored ritual in the Hittite milieu.

## II.2 POSSIBLE READINGS OF SISKUR IN HITTITE

One approach to arriving at the phonetic interpretation(s) of SISKUR is to scrutinize Hittite nouns with similar meanings. The main Hittite word for ‘ritual’ is *aniur* (n.), which is also attested several times in the texts belonging to the Puriyanni and Kuwattalla traditions. The similarity between its use and that of SISKUR is remarkable: we commonly translate SISKUR *dupaduparša* as ‘*dupaduparša*-ritual’ and *šalli* *aniur* as ‘Great Ritual’. Several sources, notably HED A, 70, assume without further ado that SISKUR can be equated with *aniur*.

Yet, there is no formal support for such an equation. The only partial heterographic representation established for *aniur* is KIN-*ur* (HW² A, 95a). There are, to the best of our knowledge, no cases when SISKUR and *aniur* can be shown to alternate in the same text with reference to the same entity. For example, Kuwattalla’s Great Ritual is never called SISKUR.GAL, although the combination SISKURMES GAL is attested in the generic meaning ‘great rituals/sacrifices’ (CHD Š, 98b). An interesting case is the alternation between Bo 3288+ rev. 40’ SISKUR.BABBAR *aniur* (or rather SISKURBABBAR

<footnote n="137">137 The title of Erich Neu’s book *Althethitische Ritualtexte in Umschrift* need not be taken as an indication that he treated the respective texts as rituals rather than festivals. The German Hittitological tradition distinguishes between *Festrituale* (festivals) and *Beschwörungsrituale* (rituals), while Neu strove to avoid prejudging the attribution of the published texts to one of these genres and therefore opted for a neutral term.</footnote>
*aniur?*) and KUB 46.38 ii 6' *parkui aniur* in the parallel versions of the same text (Miller 2012, 103; CTH 495). At face value, this suggests that the same religious performance can either be described as ‘Pure Ritual’ or assigned the Sumerographic name *SISKUR.BABBAR*, but the co-occurrence of *SISKUR* and *aniur* in the same phrase militates against their formal equivalence.<fnref n="138" />

Next, one must factor in the lack of attestations of the phrase **aniuraš EN / aniuraš išḫa-** “lord of the ritual”, a putative equivalent of EN SISKUR, despite the fact that the Akkadian idiom ‘lord of X’ was widely calqued or imitated in Hittite.<fnref n="139" /> The instances of the calques and further phrases built on the same model are collected in Dardano 2012, 399 (see also Yoshida 1987, 47–50) and include *awariyaš/auriyaš išḫa-* ‘fort commander’, *ḫannešnaš išḫa-* “lord of judgment” = ‘opponent at court’, *mukišnaš išḫa-* “lord of the invocation” = ‘performer of invocation’, *uddanaš išḫa-* “lord of word(s)” = ‘conjurer’, *wastulaš išḫa-* “lord of transgression” = ‘culprit’, and several other expressions. Against this background, one would expect that if the counterpart of EN SISKUR were common in spoken Hittite, it would be phonetically or semi-phonetically written, at least on some occasions.

Finally, it was observed that the meaning of *aniur* is narrower than that of *SISKUR* (HW² A, 94b). The Hittite noun *aniur* refers either to a ritual or to implements necessary for such an event.<fnref n="140" /> It does not have the meaning ‘ritual offering, sacrifice’, which is typical of *SISKUR* in Akkadian texts and is also attested in some Hittite compositions. Nor does the etymology of this noun support its connection to ‘offering’: Hittite *aniur* is derived from *aniya-* ‘to do, make, perform’, just as Akkadian *nēpešu* ‘ritual’ is derived from *epēšu* ‘to do, make, perform’. Therefore, even if the functional identity between *aniur* and *SISKUR* happened to be established in some contexts, it could not serve as a trigger for the semantic extension of *SISKUR* in Anatolia and must have postdated such an extension.<fnref n="141" />

A different Hittite word sometimes translated as ‘ritual’ is *ḫazziu-/ḫazziwi(t)*- (n.). The -it- suffix, typical of borrowed nouns, suggests that this term does not belong to the inherited stratum of the Hittite lexicon, even though the source of borrowing

<footnote n="138">138 See further KUB 59.62 i' 3' *SISKUR* *parnaš aniūr* 'house ritual', attested in a fragmentary context (CHD P. 168b).</footnote>

<footnote n="139">139 The phraseological calques are to be distinguished from the language-internal imitation of the established contact-driven pattern ‘lord of X’. For a general discussion of Akkadian influence on Hittite, see Schwemer 2006 and Dardano 2012.</footnote>

<footnote n="140">140 Of particular interest is the use of gen.sg. *aniuraš* in KBo 29.3+ i 5 and KUB 35.18(+) i 9 (CTH 760.1.a). At face value, it refers to a specific rite associated with the offering of two sheep, one white and one black, while the other six sheep mentioned in the incipits of the same tablets are associated with different rites, such as *ikkunatt-* and *šarlatta*. It seems probable, however, that *aniur* in this context is merely an abbreviation of *šalli aniur* ‘Great Ritual’ (see the commentary to the respective texts).</footnote>

<footnote n="141">141 HW² A, 94b indicates the Hittite-Luwian rituals as the starting point for the spread of the term *aniur*. Going somewhat ahead, one cannot rule out that this Hittite term, like the Sumerogram *SISKUR*, reflects the perceived difference between state-sponsored religious performances typical of the Ḫattuša court and private rituals practiced in the Luwian milieu. Yet, if this is case, we are dealing here with a token of linguistic awareness on the part of Hittite speakers, not an introduced formal classifier or an element of scribal jargon.</footnote>
(Hattic, Hurrian, or something different?) has not been identified thus far. At any rate, it is hardly the Luwian language, since, unlike aniur 'ritual', ḫazziu-/ḥazziwi(t)- is not attested even once in the corpus of Hittite-Luwian rituals studied in this monograph. More significant for the present discussion is that the use of ḫazziu-/ḥazziwi(t)- generally does not appear to be aligned with the corpus of SISKUR-rituals: a mere glance at its attestations collected in HW2 H, 543-46 suggests that it is used at least as frequently in the scripts of periodic festivals. Therefore, it seems better to accept the translation 'ceremony, rite' for this religious term, on the understanding that rites can constitute building blocks of both rituals and festivals.

At the same time, the morphological structure of the expression ḫazziwiyaš EN / ḫazziwiyaš išḫa- (HW2 H, 544b-45a) is identical to that of EN SISKUR. Alp (1983, 330, fn. 296) assumed on this basis that ḫazziu-/ḥazziwi(t)- is one of the readings of SISKUR. Both relevant contexts belong to festivals rather than rituals, but this is not a fatal objection: we will see in Section II.6 that some Hittite texts called 'festivals' are substantially similar to rituals. It is, however, clear from one of the two passages (KUB 51.129a) that LŪ.MEŠḥazziwiyaš išḫeš are functionaries who are mentioned alongside royal cooks and receive payments for their services (Haas and Jakob-Rost 1984, 71-72). Thus, they are 'masters of ceremonies' rather than ritual patrons in the conventional sense. This professional title is probably related to LŪ ḫazziwiyaš and MUNUS ḫazziwiyaš, which likewise function as designations of religious officials (HW2 H, 544b, 545a).

A different way of arriving at the Hittite reading of SISKUR is the analysis of its attested phonetic complements, but this is likewise fraught with difficulties. One relevant form is KBo 27.60:4' SISKUR-in (acc.sg.comm.), attested in a fragmentary context (de Roos 2007, 146-47). It is tempting to see here a form of Hitt. šaklai- (comm.), which means, among other things, 'rite, ceremony', although the attribution of the fragment to a votive text calls rather for the meaning 'offering'. Be that as it may, this is not the only instance of a common gender noun hidden behind SISKUR: the same state of affairs is reconstructed on syntactic grounds in KUB 22.35 ii 2'-6' (CHD Š, 60a).

Another semi-phonetic spelling is SISKUR-eššar (n.), found in a Hittite literary text from Ugarit (RS 25.421 rev. 54), which has variously been equated with mukeššar 'invocation (ritual)' and malteššar 'recitation, votive offering' (CHD L-N, 137a, 326b). The first equation is based on the juxtaposition of the apparently parallel phrases KUB 32.130:7' mukeššar ... pāi 'he will give an invocation ritual' and KUB 32.130:14', 22' SÍSKUR piškanzi 'they will be giving invocation rituals' on the same tablet devoted to the cult of Šawoška of Šamuha (CTH 712). The second one is derived from the alternation between KUB 17.21 i 19' SÍSKURHA parkuyannaš uddanī 'in the matter of the purity of rituals' and KBo 51.17 i 5' maltešnaš parkuyannaš uddanī 'in the matter of the purity of votive offerings' in a prayer of Arnuwanda and Ašmunikkal to the Sun-goddess of Arinna (CTH 375.1).

At the same time, it is possible to show that neither mukeššar nor malteššar represent stable equivalents of SISKUR in Hittite. The first identification is precluded by the phrase KBo 15.34 ii 23' mukišnaš SÍSKUR 'ritual/offering of invocation', while the second is incompatible with, for example, KUB 27.1 i 10-11 SISKUR ambaššin keldian=(n)a malteššar=(r)a 'the ambašši and keldi-rituals, as well as the votive offering'. Further-

DOI: 10.13173/9783447119955.2.331

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more, since neither *mukeššar* nor *malteššar* represents the main word for ‘ritual’ in Hittite, so regardless of the equation one prefers, the use of *SISKUR-eššar* in Ugarit can reflect only an archaic or specialized meaning of *SISKUR*. It is also to be noted that the professional title Lū mukišnaš išḫāš (lit. ‘lord of the invocation’) denotes a religious specialist rather than the commissioner of the performance in the Ritual of the Storm-god of Kuliwišna (see Section II.6 below).

Summing up, there are at least five Hittite nouns that can be proposed as equivalents for SISKUR, but in none of the five instances can the equation be generalized to align with the bulk of its attestations. In practice, this probably means that the scribes were free to deploy *ad sensum* a variety of its Hittite near-synonyms in the oral recitation of the respective texts and perhaps even resorted to pronouncing the Sumerian word in their own jargon.<sup>142</sup> This correlates with the predominant use of SISKUR/ SÍSKUR without phonetic complements in Hittite texts: exceptions such as peripheral Hittite spelling *SISKUR-eššar* and the *hapax legomenon* SISKUR-in, important as they are for the present discussion, must still be taken as exceptions.

Finally, it is now accepted that SISKUR can function as a determinative, notably to the name of the *šarlatta*- rite, with the variants SISKURšarlatta-, SISKURšarlatta-, and šarlatta-*SISKUR* (CHD Š, 275b). Therefore, the possibility that SISKUR also behaves as a determinative in some of the instances where it was traditionally transliterated as a logo-gram is worth considering. Thus, the variation between SÍSKUR *zurkiyaš* and <SISKUR> *zurkiyaš* ‘the ritual of blood’ (CHD Š, 394a) can be reinterpreted as SISKUR *zurkiyaš* vs. *zurkiyaš*—that is, the name of the ritual may have been expressed by a free-standing genitive with an optional determinative (without a space between the two). Following the same logic, one can offer a new interpretation of SISKUR.BABBAR *aniur* alternating with *parkui aniur* as SISKURBABBAR *aniur* ‘white ritual’ (see the discussion earlier in this section). Moving closer to the main topic of this book, we would like to mention a possible reading SISKUR *dupiduparša* for what is commonly transliterated as SÍSKUR *dupiduparša* ‘dupiduparša-ritual’, the solution that is favored by the lack of space after SÍSKUR in KUB 35.40 iv 6’ and KUB 35.41 iv 2’. If any evidence cited in this paragraph holds, then the zero reading must be added to possible phonetic interpretations of the Sumerogram SISKUR in Hittite.

## II.3 ‘RITUAL PATRON’ IN SPOKEN AND WRITTEN HITTITE

The lack of combinatorial evidence for the word-by-word translation of EN SISKUR ‘ritual patron’ into Hittite has already been addressed in the preceding section. Naturally, one could speculate that a variety of Hittite readings for SISKUR could be combined with *išḫa*—‘lord’ on a case-to-case basis, yielding all the desirable semantic nuances of EN SISKUR. It is not clear, however, whether the abstract term for ‘ritual patron’ had to be mentioned in the course of the actual religious performances at all,

<footnote n="142"><sup>142</sup> For the evidence that heterograms could occasionally be pronounced as such in the scribal jargon, as opposed to being translated into Hittite, see Weeden 2011, 333–34 and Kudrinski 2016.</footnote>
as opposed to the client's personal name. This issue must be addressed in more detail
in connection with the so-called rite of naming.

The clause *n=ašta* MUNUSŠU.GI EN SISKUR ŠUM=ŠU *halzai* ‘The Old Woman calls the ritual patron by name’ occurs twice in the Aštu ritual (CTH 490), interrupting Hurrian incantations (Görke 2010, 126–27). As noted in the same monograph (pp. 287–88), parallels to this construction are attested in several other texts of the same genre—namely, CTH 412 (Zuwi tradition), CTH 413.1 (New Hittite ritual for the construction of a new house or temple), and CTH 458.1.1. Görke contends that all these attestations refer to a special rite, comparing them to KUB 30.55:10’ *UN-aš ŠUM=ŠU* *halziyawa[r]* ‘calling a man’s name’, the explicit mention of such a rite on a catalogue tablet (p. 286). On the strength of this additional evidence, Görke concludes that the “rite of naming” was fairly common (p. 289).<fnref n="143" />

The phrase in KUB 30.55 does seem to refer to a special rite, but there is no evidence that it was embedded within a larger ritual. Therefore, we prefer different interpretations for its alleged parallels. We submit that calling a patient by name in the context of a ritual was not an exceptional procedure but the expected state of affairs. Indeed, if uttering the patient's name occasionally could increase the efficacy of the ritual, what was the gain for the Old Woman or another ritualist in resorting to the generalizing paraphrase 'ritual patron' on the remaining occasions? In contrast, there was every sense to introduce such a paraphrase into the written version of the ritual, which was not tied to any particular instantiation, but had prescriptive goals. In this case, future performers only needed occasional reminders not to slavishly imitate the tablet's bureaucratic parlance. The instruction 'The Old Woman calls the ritual patron by name' could have served such a purpose.

The general point made above derives formal support from the contrastive examples (II.1) and (II.2), which are both taken from the Luwian conjurations (*hukmai-*/ŠIPAT) belonging to the Tauriša tradition (CTH 764–766), where the designation reserved for the patient is not EN SISKUR but DUMU.LÚ.U19.LU (lit. “child of mortality”). It is always recorded as a Sumerogram, but normally accompanied by phonetic complementation, as is the case of most other Sumerograms in Luwian texts (see Kudrinski 2017a, 247 and the discussion in the next section).

(II.1) KBo 13.260 ii 30–31 (CTH 765), see Starke 1985, 261
za-aš-pa DUMU.LÚ.U19.LU-iš AMA-i-in e-er-wa-an e-eḫ-ḫu-id-du
‘May this child exit (his/her) mother’s interior!’

(II.2) KBo 13.260 iii 16’–20’ (CTH 765), see Starke 1985, 262
zi-i-la-pa-at-ta za-‘am-ma’-ti DUMU.LÚ.U19.LU-ni ŠUM-ŠU *hal-za-a-i* ḫu-i-du-
mar-ša u-up-pa-an-na-an-du wa-ia-ḫi-ša ḫa-ad-du-la-ḫi-ša an-na-ru-ma-a-ḫi-ša
‘In the future, may they carry to this bewitched mortal—he/she calls his
name—life, vitality, health (and) virility!’

<footnote n="143">143 There are three attestations of the “naming construction” in our corpus: in KUB 9.6+ i 39 (CTH 759.1) it is used in connection with the ritual patron; in KUB 35.13+ r.col. 13’ (CTH 762.3.4) it follows a curse formula against the *nakkiu*-spirits; its attribution in KUB 32.124 i 4’ (CTH 763.1.3.b) remains unclear.</footnote>
As should be clear from the translation of (II.1), this example is taken from a birth conjuration.<fnref n="144" /> Here the name of the “child of mortality” is yet unknown, as is his/her gender. In contrast, example (II.2) belongs to an anti-witchcraft incantation, where the patient is presumed to have a name. The Hittite syntactic fragment ‘he/she calls his name’ (marked here in boldface) is embedded in a Luwian blessing formula, splitting it in turn into two fragments. In other words, we are dealing with a parenthetical note rather that a sequence of well-formed clauses in (II.2), which formally precludes the interpretation of ṢUM-šu ḫal-za-a-i as referring to some kind of separate gesture. Its ostensive purpose is to indicate that DUMU.LŪ.U19.LU- is not to be translated into Luwian in the oral performance but rather replaced with the patient’s personal name. There are no reasons to assume that the use of ṢUM-šu ḫal-za-a-i with reference to EN SISKUR was pragmatically different.

Another way of demonstrating the connection between the abstraction of ‘ritual patron’ and the Hittite written register is through its frequent alternations with different descriptive terms in the parallel versions of the same composition. Thus, the essential difference between the fragments grouped under CTH 448.2.1 and CTH 448.2.2, both reflecting a ritual for the Sun-goddess of the Earth, consists in their featuring EN SÍSKUR and the royal couple respectively (Görke 2016). A similar distinction defines the difference between two variants of the Ambazzi ritual: CTH 391.1 mentions a ritual patron or their group, while CTH 391.1 refers to a king in the same function (Christiansen 2006, 165). The variation between one vs. two ritual patrons is observed, for example, in the Maštigga tradition (CTH 404; Miller 2004, 232–38). Finally, one can compare KBo 24.9 rev. iii 8’ [k]u-u-un UN-an U[ZUHA] ‘this person’s limbs’ vs. KUB 41.1 rev. iii 17’ ku-u-un EN SISKUR UZUURA-nI-eš ‘this ritual patron’s limbs’ in the parallel versions of the Alli ritual (CTH 402; Weeden 2011, 280, fn. 1280).

Further examples of a comparable type can be readily found, and they represent just one manifestation of adapting Hittite ritual texts in scribal circles, a common practice studied in detail in Miller 2004 and Christiansen 2006. Its particular frequency, however, has to do with the nature of the alternating elements. If the generic designation of the ritual patron reflected, first and foremost, the chancery jargon, it could easily be replaced with a different generic term without a perceived risk of damaging the ritual’s illocutionary force. Naturally, even an adaptation of a ritual to the needs of the royal court need not imply that the royal patients would be called just ‘king’ or ‘queen’ in oral performance: most likely their personal names would be added to the titles.<fnref n="145" /> But not all the patients were royals: one of the ways of referring to them in the religious texts from Kizzuwadna and the Lower Land was ‘master of the house, head of the household’ (Akkadian bēl bītim, Hittite parnaš išḫāš). The respective heterogram

<footnote n="144">144 The translation of (II.1) adopted here is different from the one proposed in Mouton and Yakubovich 2019, 217 (‘Let this human (child) regain his mother’s intimacy’) and follows a personal communication of Craig Melchert (see now Melchert 2022 sub ṫḫʾwi- ‘to exit’). The principal reason for our change of opinion is the meaning ‘may he come out’, which imposes itself as the simplest translation of Luw. e-eḫ-ḫu-id-du, the cognate of Hitt. arha uiddu ‘may he come out’.</footnote>

<footnote n="145">145 Sometimes this practice percolated into the written texts; see for example CTH 778, the fragments of the *itkalzi*-ritual mentioning Tašmišarri (= Tudhaliya II) and his wife Taduheba.</footnote>
is attested, for example, in the Zarpiya ritual (CTH 757, EN É-TIM) and the “festival” of the Storm-god of Kuliwišna (CTH 330, LÜEN É-TIM). On face value, its use conveys the low-key character of a religious performance: a head of the household can be contrasted with a king as head of state. In contrast, the use of EN SISKUR leaves open the question about the patient’s social status and therefore represents its most neutral written designation. In the oral performance of a Hittite ritual, the patient’s personal name without any title was the most likely standard equivalent of both EN SISKUR and EN É-TIM.

## II.4 THE LUWIAN READINGS OF SISKUR AND EN SISKUR

The Hittite-Luwian rituals published in this book bear witness to the extensive use of the combination EN SISKUR (with orthographic variants) in Luwian incantations. It has the same reference as EN SISKUR in the Hittite matrix texts of the same compositions. Yet, in contrast with Hittite, the Luwian term has a transparent structure. The possessive adjective /malxassass(a/i)-/, optionally associated with the Sumerographic spellings SÍSKUR/SISKUR, as in (II.3–II.5), modifies the head noun with the basic meaning ‘master, lord’, obligatorily associated with either the Sumerographic logogram EN or its Akkadographic equivalent BE-EL (Starke 1990, 55).146 In (II.3–II.4) and similar examples, where the head noun lacks phonetic complements, it precedes the modifier in conformity with the Sumero-Akkadian syntactic rules. If, however, it features phonetic complements, as in (II.5–II.6), it follows the modifier in accordance with the Luwian syntactic preferences. This distribution is in line with the general tendency to avoid phonetic insertions in sequences with marked heterographic syntax (see Kudrinski 2016, 164). We can be sure that the graphic sequences with /malxassass(a/i)-/ preceding and following its head noun ‘master, lord’ correspond to the same phonetic phrase, because they directly alternate in (II.3) vs. (II.4) and several other examples taken from the parallel versions of the same text.

(II.3) KUB 35.54 ii 12'-14' (CTH 758.1)
a-ap-pa a-ad-d[u-wa-al-za] ú-tar-ša EN SÍSKUR DINGIRMES-za [pár-ra-an ni-iš]
im-ra-aš-ša DIM-aš-ša-an-za [hal-li-iš-ša]
'[May] the ev[il] matter [not (be)] again [in the presence] of the deities of the
EN SÍSKUR [(and turn into) the defilement] of the Storm-god of the Open Country!'

(II.4) KBo 29.3+ ii 21-22 (CTH 760.2)
ku-i-ša-an ša-aḫ-ḫa-ni-iš-ša-at-ta ku-i-ša-an ip-pa-tar-ri<i>-iš>-ša-at-ta EN
SÍSKUR-aš-ši-in ALAM-ša
'Whoever restrained it, whoever distrained it, (namely) the EN SÍSKUR's shape (...)’

<footnote n="146">146 The word for ‘lord’ in Luwian cuneiform texts has the phonetic complement -ya- in the dative case, and based on hieroglyphic evidence its likely reading is /nija-/ (Yakubovich 2019, 554, fn. 67). Nevertheless, since it is never spelled fully phonetically in our corpus and therefore its reading cannot be demonstrated based on the data under discussion, we are not focusing on it here. This is one reason why we did not attempt to cite the numbered examples in transcription in this appendix, another reason being the awkwardness of transcribing phrases with graphic transposition (see immediately below).</footnote>
(II.5) KUB 35.48 ii 14'-15' (CTH 760.4)

ku-i-ša-an ša\-aḫ\-ha-ni-eš-ša\-at\-ta [ku-i-ša-a]n i-ip-pa-tar-ri-eš-ša\-at\-ta
**SISKURHA-ši-in EN-an** [ta-a-ru-u]š-ša

'Whoever restrained it, whoever distrained [i]t, (namely) the EN SISKUR's
[shap]e (...)'

(II.6) KUB 35.51 ii² 15', (CTH 760.3.a)

[e-le-el-ḫa-i-ti] ma-al-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-ši-iš EN-aš ta-p[a-r]u [ḫi-ru-ú-un ta-ta-r]i-
ia-am-ma-an

'The EN SISKUR [is washing himself] (from) jud[g]ment, [perjury, cur]se.'

Rather more problematic is the base noun /malxass(a)-/, which is attested only twice
in our corpus. According to Laroche 1959, 65–66, Starke 1990, 108, and Melchert 1993,
131, this Luwian word means ‘ritual’, but this is no more than the extrapolation of
the meaning assigned to SISKUR in Hittite texts. As all three authors duly notice, both
attestations of this noun are plural: in (II.7) and (II.8) below we find the forms of acc.
pl. n. and nom. pl. n. respectively. This might surely be a coincidence, but as demon-
strated in Melchert 2000a, the declension of the phrase ‘ritual patron’ suggests that
/malxassass(a/i)-/ functions there as the adjective with plural possessor. One cannot
see it based on the nominative and accusative forms cited in (II.3–II.6), where the
relevant opposition is neutralized, but KUB 9.6+ iii 25’ ma-al-ḫa-aš-ša-aš-ša-an-za-an
EN-ia (dat.sg.) or KUB 35.78(+) iv 7’ [ma-al]-ha-aš-ša-aš-ša-an-za-an-za EN-an-z[a]
(dat.pl.) show the suffix /-ants-/, which marks the plurality of the possessor, inserted
between the /malxassass(a/i)-/ and the inflectional endings. In order to render faith-
fully the grammatical structure of such dative phrases, Melchert (2000a, 175) chose to
translate them not as ‘to the ritual patron(s)’ but rather ‘to the lord(s) of the sacri-
fices’.

Our analysis suggests that the interpretation of /malxass(a)-/ as a set of concrete
objects can be extended to its nominative-accusative occurrences. Both examples
(II.7) and (II.8) belong to the key part of the Puriyanni ritual, where the ritual patron
transfers the “seeds” (presumably, the contaminated items), together with silver and
gold, to the Storm-god of the Open Country. The operation requires the help of the
patron’s substitute, a wooden figure, the subject of (II.7). Its apparent purpose is pla-
cating the god, who should in exchange safeguard the contaminated items and ensure
that they do not affect the other deities. Immediately after this act of transfer, the rit-
ual specialist presents objects functioning as symbols of heaven and earth and utters
the incantation (II.8). We interpret this as underscoring the irreversible character of
the deposition: the offerings will not come back to the patient and will not become
again a source of contamination for him or his household gods.

(II.7) KBo 29.2 + KUB 35.52 ii 4'-5' (CTH 758.2.1, restored after parallel KUB 35.54 ii 25'-26')

[za-am-ma-an-t]a ma-al-ḫa-ša an-da za-a-aš pu-na-ʿtaʾ [a-a-ri-ia-ad]-du

'May this one [pick up] all the [bewitche]d offerings.'

DOI: 10.13173/9783447119955.2.331

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(II.8) KUB 35.54 ii 42'-45' (CTH 758.1)

pa-a-ti ku-wa-a-ti-in [tap-pa]š-ša ti-ia-am-mi-iš na-a-wa a-a-ia-ri [ti-i]a-am-mi-iš-pa-ti [t]ap-paš-ša na-a-w[a a-a]-ia-ri za-a-ḫa SISKUR-aš-ša [...]x a-[r]pa-ti-i'ni-iš a-a-ia-ri

'So, as [heav]en does not become earth and (as) [e]arth does no[t b]come [h]eaven, may these offerings likewise not become [...]!'

The translation given above is contextually superior to one built upon the abstract notion of a ritual. Indeed, the wooden substitute figurine of the ritual patron is not expected to carry out (i.e. officiate over) the ritual, as this is rather the purview of the ritual specialist. If the adjective [za-am-ma-an-t]a 'bewitched' is correctly restored in (II.7), this is hardly an appropriate modifier for 'ritual' in view of its negative connotations. Furthermore, 'heaven' and 'earth', as *nomina concreta*, hardly constitute licitous similes for rituals, and in any case it is not obvious what kind of undesirable transformation the ritual can undergo in that context. On the positive side, one can now justify the use of /malxass(a)-/ as *plurale tantum* (or its predominant plural use): since the offerings normally consist of multiple items, their use in the plural is semantically natural.

Apart from these contexts, there is additional evidence for /malxass(a)-/ 'offering', which is derived from the attestations of this noun in Luwian hieroglyphic inscriptions predating the fall of Hattuša. The sequence *137-ha-sà (SÜDBURG) and its counterpart *137-ha-saṣ (EMİRGAZİ) were interpreted as spellings of /malxass(a)-/ in van den Hout 1995b, 562–64. This confirmed the tentative identification of hieroglyph *137 as a logogram for ‘offering, libation’ (Marazzi 1990, 149), which had originally been proposed on a purely contextual basis. Indeed, the EMİRGAZİ altars feature the matching clauses ‘whoever does not grant me offerings ...’ and ‘whoever grants me offerings ...’, followed by the curse and blessing formulae respectively (the better-preserved negative clause is analyzed as (II.9) below). The similar passage (II.10) in the SÜDBURG inscription mentions offerings to the gods in three different locations after a victorious campaign.

(II.9) EMİRGAZİ 1b § 34, see Hawkins 1995, 88–89, 101

kwa/i-i(a)-sa-pa-wa/i-mu \*137-ha-saṣ NEG-wa/i DARE
kʷis=ba=wa=mu malxassa nawa pijai
who.NOM.SG.C=but=PTCL=I.DAT offering.ACC.PL NEG give.3SG.PRS
‘Whoever does not grant me offerings ...’.

(II.10) SÜDBURG § 13, see Hawkins 1995, 22–23, 43

\*137-ha-sà DEUS-zi/a DARE
malxassa massannantsa pijaxxa
offering.ACC.PL god.DAT.PL gave.1SG.PRT
‘*(In the towns X, Y, and Z)* I gave offerings to the gods’.

As a result of van den Hout’s identification, the hieroglyphic sign \*137 came to be transliterated as LIBATIO, but another consequence of the same discovery appears to have been less appreciated thus far. This is the functional similarity of Luw.
/malxass(a)-/ between cuneiform ritual texts and hieroglyphic royal inscriptions: both have concrete meanings ‘offerings’ or ‘ritual items.’ Furthermore, at least in the instance of the SÜDBURG inscription, one can affirm that this is a royal offering of thanksgiving and thus has nothing to do with typical SISKUR-rituals, performed as they are in the event of crises. This supports the interpretation of Melchert 2000a, initially adopted on purely grammatical grounds: the compositional meaning of EN SISKUR in Luwian incantations is “lord of the offerings”, just as it is in Akkadian.<fnref n="147" />

## II.5 ORTHOGRAPHIC VARIANTS OF EN SISKUR

This section addresses varying heterographic spellings of the term translated above as ‘ritual patron’ in Hittite texts and ‘lord of the offerings’ in Luwian incantations. The Hittite corpus features four orthographic variants: EN SÍSKUR, EN SISKUR, BE-EL SÍSKUR, and BE-EL SISKUR, but only the first three are attested in the texts of the Puriyanni and Kuwattalla traditions. Of primary interest here is the chronological distribution of these three variants, which emerges from the paleographic datings of the tablets published in the present book. We focus on the variation in EN SISKUR, because the choice between its allographs SÍSKUR/SISKUR used for ‘offering(s) / ritual’ can generally be predicted on the following basis: EN SISKUR → SISKUR; EN SÍSKUR → SÍSKUR; BE-EL SÍSKUR → SÍSKUR.<fnref n="148" />

The table below lists three independent sets of paleographic datings: those offered in Starke 1985, those available online at the *Hethitologie Portal Mainz* (accessed in summer 2019), and those that are based on our collation of the original tablets at the Ankara museum. On the basis of Starke’s results one can distinguish between (1) early 14th-century and earlier tablets, (2) late 14th-century tablets, and (3) 13th-century tablets. Starke’s absolute chronology is debatable (it reflects the archaizing end of the spectrum), but his relative datings display a good correlation with those published at the *Hethitologie Portal Mainz* and indeed often refine the Mainz datings.<fnref n="149" /> In addition, the same table reflects the variation in the spelling of three common Hittite forms: (1) *ki-iš-ša-an* vs. (2) *kiš-an* ‘thus’; (1) *ši-(ip)-pa-an-ti* vs. (2) *BAL-ti* ‘offers, dedicates’; and (1) *ḫu-u-uk-zi* vs. (2) *ḫu-uk-zi* ‘conjures’.

Based on table II.1 below, one can propose the orthographic change in progress: *BE-EL SÍSKUR > EN SÍSKUR > EN SÍSKUR*.<fnref n="150" /> On the one hand, all the assured Middle Script fragments, except for KBo 9.143 and IBoT 3.96+ (which show EN SÍSKUR) and KUB 35.54

<footnote n="147">147 See the recent treatment of *malḫašša* ‘ritual offering, sacrifice’ in Melchert 2022.</footnote>

<footnote n="148">148 The opposite is patently not true: the texts featuring SÍSKUR can use both the Sumerogram EN and Akkadogram BE-EL for ‘lord, master’. Furthermore, one can observe the following distribution: even the tablets featuring BE-EL SÍSKUR use *malḫaššaššiš* EN-aš in Luwian incantations, which reflects the constraint on Akkadograms with phonetic complementation.</footnote>

<footnote n="149">149 The notation through slash—for example, 1/3 or MS⁷/NS—is used in those cases where the two fragments with different paleographic datings have recently been joined. This naturally refutes one of the two; in practice, it is the later dating that tends to be correct.</footnote>

<footnote n="150">150 For *BE-EL SÍSKUR* as the most archaic variant, see already Starke 1985, 81.</footnote>
<table><caption>Table II.1: Variation in the rendering of EN SISKUR in CTH 758–763</caption><thead><tr><th>Texts</th><th>'ritual patron' etc.<sup>151</sup></th><th>'thus'</th><th>'offers'</th><th>'conjures'</th><th>Ductus (Starke)</th><th>Ductus (portal)</th><th>Ductus (Luwili)</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>KUB 35.15</td><td><sup>LU</sup>BE-EL SÍSKUR 4x</td><td>1</td><td>1</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>MS</td><td>MS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 32.14(+)</td><td><sup>LU</sup>BE-EL SÍSKUR 1*</td><td>1</td><td></td><td></td><td>2</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>BE-EL SÍSKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.24(+)</td><td>BE-EL SÍSKUR 1x</td><td>1</td><td>1</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>MS</td><td>MS</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 9.141</td><td>BE-EL SÍSKUR 2x</td><td>1</td><td>1</td><td>1</td><td>1</td><td>MS</td><td>MS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.34</td><td>BE-EL SÍSKUR 3x</td><td>1</td><td></td><td></td><td>1</td><td>MS</td><td>MS</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 29.62</td><td>BE-EL SÍSKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>?</td><td>?</td><td>?</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 29.7(+)</td><td>BE-EL SÍSKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>2</td><td>NS</td><td>MS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.20(+)</td><td>BE-E[L SÍSKUR] 1x</td><td>1, 2 (1x)</td><td></td><td></td><td>3</td><td>NS</td><td>MS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.54</td><td>BE-EL SÍSKUR 2x</td><td>1</td><td></td><td></td><td>1</td><td>MS</td><td>MS</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>EN SÍSKUR 3x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>KUB 32.8(+), KBo 8.129</td><td>BE-EL SÍSKUR 1x</td><td>1</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>3</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 9.143</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1</td><td>MS</td><td>MS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.83 (+)</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>3</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 7.14(+)</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 5x</td><td>1 (1x), 2</td><td>1, 2</td><td></td><td>1/3</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>IBoT 3.96+</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>2</td><td>MS?/NS</td><td>MS</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 22.137(+)</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 3x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1/3</td><td>MS?/NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.29+</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 1x</td><td>1</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>2</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 29.3+</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 7x</td><td>1 (1x), 2</td><td>1</td><td>2</td><td>1/3</td><td>MS?</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.46</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 1x</td><td>1</td><td></td><td></td><td>2</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 29.13+</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 2x</td><td>1</td><td></td><td></td><td>?</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 32.124</td><td>EN SÍSKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>?</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 9.6+</td><td>EN SISKUR 8x</td><td>1, 2 (1x)</td><td>1</td><td></td><td>3</td><td>LNS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>EN SÍSKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>KBo 29.55+</td><td>EN SISKUR 3x</td><td>2</td><td>2</td><td>2, 1 (1x)</td><td>3</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>EN SÍSKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.81(+)</td><td>EN SISKUR 2x</td><td>1</td><td></td><td></td><td>3</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 27.26</td><td>EN SISKUR 1x</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>?</td><td>NS</td><td>?</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 30.190</td><td>EN SISKUR 2x</td><td>1</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>2</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 10.42</td><td>EN SISKUR 1x</td><td></td><td>1</td><td></td><td>3</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.48</td><td>EN SISKUR 1x</td><td>1(1x), 2</td><td>1</td><td>2</td><td>3</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.16(+), KUB 35.51</td><td>EN SISKUR 4x</td><td>1</td><td>2</td><td>2</td><td>2/3</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 29.9</td><td>EN SISKUR 2x</td><td>1</td><td>1</td><td>1</td><td>2</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KBo 29.6(+)</td><td>EN SISKUR 5x</td><td>1</td><td>2</td><td>1</td><td>3</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr><tr><td>KUB 35.73</td><td>EN SISKUR 1x</td><td>2</td><td></td><td></td><td>?</td><td>NS</td><td>NS</td></tr></tbody></table>

<footnote n="151">151 Excluding restored passages.</footnote>
(which shows both *BE-EL* SÍSKUR and *EN* SÍSKUR), show the spelling *BE-EL* SÍSKUR; on the other hand, all the fragments featuring the variant *EN* SISKUR are written in New Script. The complications of this distribution reflect, above all, the archaic or archaizing spellings. A likely example of a faithful copy with archaic spellings is KUB 32.14(+) (NS), which, besides *BE-EL* SÍSKUR, uses the PAP sign for word parts damaged in the original, as opposed to omitting or paraphrasing the respective forms. A likely tablet featuring archaizing creative adaptation is KUB 32.8(+), where the variation between the conservative spellings *BE-EL* SÍSKUR and *EN* SÍSKUR appears side by side with the innovative clitic complex *nu-kán*. In addition, one suspects that the spelling *EN* SISKUR was more typical of draft copies. Thus, KUB 35.48 and KBo 30.190 feature *EN* SISKUR and are ruled (*vorliniert*), which is a typical feature of draft tablets, whereas their copies or close parallel versions, KBo 29.3+ and KUB 35.29+ respectively, feature *EN* SÍSKUR and are not ruled.<fnref n="152" />

These and other complications taken aside, the development *BE-EL* SÍSKUR > *EN* SÍSKUR > *EN* SISKUR can be analyzed in terms of ongoing orthographic simplification. The variant *BE-EL* SÍSKUR, dominant in Middle Script fragments, consists of four signs, the rarer Middle Script variant LÚ*BE-EL* SÍSKUR even contains five, while the innovative *EN* SISKUR represents a combination of just two signs. This process must be considered together with the other instances of orthographic simplification emerging from Table II.1: *ki-iš-ša-an* > *kiš-an*; *ši-pa-an-ti* > *BAL-ti* and *ḫu-u-uk-zi* > *ḫu-uk-zi*. The impact of economy of effort on the development of Hittite orthography is well known among Hittitologists (see e.g. Neu and Rüster 1973, 227), although the heterogram for ‘ritual patron’ seems not to have been invoked thus far in connection with this tendency.

The prediction of the above explanation is that the directionality of the orthographic change *BE-EL* SÍSKUR > *EN* SÍSKUR > *EN* SISKUR is not limited to Hittite texts with Luwian insertions. This can be empirically confirmed through an analysis of other traditions featuring a large number of related versions. Thus, the parallel versions of Maštigga’s ritual against domestic quarrels (CTH 404.1) display a rather straightforward distribution: the older versions dated II b–c show the consistent spelling *BE-EL* SÍSKUR, the later versions dated III a–c show variants *EN* SÍSKUR or *EN* SISKUR, while the tablet I.B with the intermediate dating Iib–IIIa shows both *BE-EL* SÍSKUR and *EN* SISKUR (Miller 2004, 52–53, 198, 205; see Miller 2004, 9–10 for the proposed chronology). Dating of the numerous fragments of CTH 701 (offering to the throne of Hēbat) on the basis of the Mainz system yields a fuzzier picture, which reflects the frequent preservation of archaic variants in later copies. One thing, however, is clear: all the fragments featuring *EN* SISKUR (numbers 16, 17, 23, 26, 35, 68, 36, 82 in Salvini and Wegner 1986) are classified as New Script. In both groups of texts one finds the expected correlations within fragments: *EN* SISKUR ↔ *SISKUR* AND *BE-EL* SÍSKUR / *EN* SÍSKUR ↔ SÍSKUR.

At this point it is appropriate to remember that the Akkadian texts of the second millennium BCE featured both orthographic variants—namely, *SISKUR* and *SÍSKUR* =

<footnote n="152">152 For the PAP signs and ruled tablets, see in general Waal 2015, 82 and 116–17 respectively. For New Hittite *nu=kan* vs. Middle Hittite *n=ašta*, see Oettinger 1976, 67–70.</footnote>
SISKUR.SISKUR. What then prompted the preference for the variants SÍSKUR and BE-EL
SÍSKUR in the earliest records of the Kuwattalla and Maštigga traditions, especially
in contrast with SISKUR ‘offering’ attested in an Old Script text from Ḩattuša
(KUB 43.27 i 2’, CTH 733)? We submit that the reduplicated spelling SÍSKUR =
SISKUR.SISKUR can be taken as iconic of the plurality of Luw. /malxass(a)-/ ‘offer-
ings’. We have seen that this plural noun does not have a singular counterpart in
the attested corpus, while BE-EL SÍSKUR stands for the phrase “lord of the offerings”
in Luwian.<fnref n="153" /> In fact, the spelling SISKURHA-ši-in EN-an “lord of the offerings” in ex-
ample (II.5) above suggests the plurality of the dependent noun was felt even in the
absence of its overt morphological expression. In contrast, the available phonetic
complements of SISKUR/SÍSKUR in Hittite imply the association of this Sumerogram
with a variety of singular nouns (see Section II.2 above). Therefore, once SÍSKUR was
reinterpreted in the Hittite milieu, it was no longer felt to be an iconic spelling,
which launched the mechanism for its progressive replacement with the shorter al-
ternative SISKUR.

The proposed scenario has far-reaching consequences. One must assume that the
heterographic pair SÍSKUR and BE-EL SÍSKUR had already become established in Luwian
before it was adapted for Hittite. Another established reading of BE-EL SÍSKUR is Hur-
rian ašhušikkunni, a derivative of ašh- ‘to sacrifice’ (Richter 2012, 55–56) and a cog-
nate of Hurrian atḥlm (also ašḥlm) ‘offering’ or ‘ritual’, attested in Ugaritic transmis-
sion (Richter 2012, 520).<fnref n="154" /> While the Hurrian noun does not justify the use of the
variant SÍSKUR as opposed to SISKUR, it has transparent ties to the concept of ritual of-
fering. Therefore, it seems likely that the functional equivalence between malḫaššaššiš
EN-aš and ašhušikkunni was established somewhere in Kizzuwadna, in the bilingual
Luwian and Hurrian milieu, which means that BE-EL SÍSKUR was also equated with
ašhušikkunni. Finally, the combined pressure of Hittite-Luwian and Hittite-Hurrian
rituals must have eventually contributed to the proliferation of BE-EL SÍSKUR and
SÍSKUR within Hittite, first in the matrix texts of the Hittite-Luwian and Hittite-Hurrian
compositions, and then elsewhere.<fnref n="155" />

<footnote n="153">153 Compare also the spelling KBo 39.8 i 20 *BE-EL SÍSKUR-TIM* in the oldest available tablet of Maštigga’s ritual against domestic quarrels (Miller 2004, 64), which was likely written by a Luwian native speaker. According to Mark Weeden (pers. comm.), the Akkadographic complement of the Sumerogram *SÍSKUR* ultimately reflects the Akkadian phrase *bēl niqāti* ‘lord of the offerings’. Alternatively, one can hypothesize that *BE-EL SÍSKUR-TIM* represents a cross between *BE-EL SÍSKUR* and *BE-EL É-TIM* ‘master of the house’.</footnote>

<footnote n="154">154 For the morphological structure of ašhušikkunni, see Campbell 2012. See also ašhiašše, a synonym of ašhušikkunni derived from the same root (Richter 2012, 55).</footnote>

<footnote n="155">155 This appendix does not take a stance on the mechanisms responsible for the literization (Verschriftlichung) of Hittite-Luwian and Hittite-Hurrian rituals found in Ḩattuša. For the history of the debate, see Yakubovich 2010a, 272–85, Melchert 2013b, 168–70, and Gilan 2019, 182–85. One must acknowledge, however, that the new data presented here support the view that at least some Luwian texts, possibly not those copied in Ḩattuša and available to us today, had been recorded in writing in Kizzuwadna.</footnote>
## II.6 FUNCTIONAL ASPECTS

We have seen that the use of SISKUR and EN SISKUR in Luwian vs. Hittite differs in accordance with three parameters. First, the Luwian texts reveal unambiguous readings of both heterograms, whereas in Hittite SISKUR has multiple readings, while the reading of EN SISKUR is, strictly speaking, unknown there. Second, the concrete meanings of SISKUR in Luwian are close or identical to those in Akkadian, whereas in Hittite it acquired the abstract meaning ‘ritual’. Third, the archaic orthographic variants SÍSKUR and BE-EL SÍSKUR reflect the morphological structure of the respective Luwian expressions, but not that of their Hittite counterparts.

This cluster of converging data is conducive to formulating a hypothesis about the role played by Luwian and Hittite speakers in the functional adaptation of both Mesopotamian terms. We have seen that the Luwian phrase *malḫaššaššiš* EN-aš “lord of the offerings” was used with reference to the private commissioners of religious performances, including those associated with the Puriyanni and Kuwattalla traditions.156 This term, illustrated by examples (II.3–II.6) above, must ultimately represent a calque from Akkadian *bēl niqê, bēl niqāti*, but the plural possessor in *ma-al-ḫa-ašša-aš-ša-an-za* – ‘of the offerings’ presumably reflects the ritual practice of Kizzuwadna and the Lower Land: the texts treated in our book invariably refer to multiple animal sacrifices, as well as other offering types. The Hurrian term *ašhušikkunni* ‘commissioner of a sacrifice, ritual patron’ is likely to represent a less close calque from Akkadian. Whether /malxass(a)-/ ‘offerings’ could be metaphorically extended to the whole religious performance commissioned by a “lord of the offerings” cannot be ascertained, but this is likely, particularly if Hurrian *āṭḥlm* shared the same polysemy (see Richter 2012, 520).

Now, the cultural setting in Ḩattuša was very different from that which we can reconstruct for the Luwian or Hurrian milieu. Judging by the available texts, privately sponsored religious performances were common and enjoyed high prestige in both Kizzuwadna and the Lower Land. In contrast, the state cult was at the center of religious life in Ḩattuša, or at least of primary interest for the chancery of Ḩattuša up to a certain point. In this tradition, the chief performer was the king, while the term “lord of the offerings” was probably not in use. Once the Ḩattuša scholar-scribes began to record private performances, probably in answer to specific challenges of perceived supernatural origin, they showed particular interest in the ceremonies from Kizzuwadna and the Lower Land.157 When their written versions were classified in

<footnote n="156">156 This does not, of course, imply that the Luwian ritual specialists pronounced this phrase each time we see it in the written versions of the respective compositions. Most likely, they used personal names in oral performances, as was also the case of Hittite rituals (see Section II.3). The data at our disposal suggest, however, that the term “lord of the offerings” was commonly known in the Luwian milieu of southeastern Anatolia.</footnote>

<footnote n="157">157 According to a plausible hypothesis of Collins (2019, 195–96), the interest in anti-witchcraft lore in Ḩattuša at the time of Tudḫaliya I (early 14th century BCE) had to do with the frequent accusations of witchcraft at Tudḫaliya’s court. This mood is reflected in CTH 443, the ritual commissioned by Tudḫaliya and his wife Nikkalmati in order to combat the witchcraft of his sister Ziplantawiya.</footnote>
Hattuša, the performances commissioned by BE-EL SÍSKUR mostly came to be known as SÍSKURHA 'rituals'.<fnref n="158" /> In contrast, the religious celebrations that did not require a 'ritual patron', because they served the needs of the whole community, were labeled EZEN₄HA 'festivals'.<fnref n="159" />

If the proposed reconstruction holds, the contrastive Sumerographic marking of festivals and rituals, which is so important for Hittite philology, emerges as a construct of Hattuša intellectuals prompted by contacts with foreign religious traditions. If SÍSKUR was conscientiously deployed in Hattuša to classify those religious performances accompanied by offerings that did not fit within the mold of EZEN₄, this explains why it could be associated with multiple Hittite interpretations. EN SÍSKUR 'ritual patron' likewise had no fixed counterpart in spoken Hittite but merely served as a place holder, to be replaced with a patient's name in oral performance.

Complications in the proposed scenario comes from the mismatches in some Hittite texts from the Luwian milieu (the Lower Land). Thus, the festivals of the goddess Huwaššanna (CTH 691–694), with her cult center in Hubišna, frequently refer to an EN SÍSKUR, prescribing different offerings depending on whether the EN SÍSKUR is rich or poor (Güterbock 1970, 177; Hutter 2010, 403–5). Furthermore, the celebration of the Storm-god of Kuliwišna (CTH 330) is variously called *mukišnaš EZEN₄* ‘festival of invocation’ (KBo 15.34(+) ii 15’) and *mukišnaš SÍSKUR* ‘ritual/offering of invocation’ (KBo 15.34(+) ii 23’). Its commissioner is called LÚEN É-TIM ‘master of the house’ (KBo 15.34(+) ii 14’), although he can apparently delegate a part of his duties to a professional called LÚ *mukišnaš išhāš* ‘lord of the invocation’ (KBo 15.34(+) ii 15’; see Glocker 1997, 135–36).<fnref n="160" /> One may suspect that the label EZEN₄ was secondarily attached to these texts in Hittite transmission. Among the factors that could move the Hattuša officials to such a taxonomic choice, one can name the focus of these texts on celebrating a particular deity as well as the fact that they had not been attributed to any ritualist of repute. In spite of these complications, CTH 691–694 and CTH 330 side with the compositions treated in the present book in stressing private access to the religious performances they refer to.<fnref n="161" />

Collins compares this situation to the later adaptation of Arzawa anti-plague rituals at the time of Muršili II, which was ostensibly prompted by the spread of a plague epidemic to Hattuša.

<footnote n="158">158 Given the lingering presence of SÍSKUR ‘offering’ in Hittite texts, it is likely that the Hittite scholars understood the derived meaning of SÍSKUR as ‘sacrificial rituals’. Although, as above, animal sacrifices and other offerings were common to rituals and festivals, they were arguably less salient in festival settings, because the court officials usually acted there as consumers rather than as sponsors.</footnote>

<footnote n="159">159 While the Hittite reading of EZEN₄ is unknown, it can denote both ‘cult festival’ and ‘feast, party’ (Güterbock 1970, 175). Only the second meaning is attested in Luwian (KUB 35.107+ i 11’ DUTU-wa-ti EZEN₄ a-a-ta ‘the Sun-god made a feast’), but Hurrian eli represents a stable equivalent of EZEN₄ ‘festival’ (Richter 2012, 82).</footnote>

<footnote n="160">160 Craig Melchert (pers. comm.) offers the possibility that the ‘festival of the invocation’ is the version of the celebration that is performed without the participation of the ‘master of the house’. This hypothesis represents a distinct possibility and would certainly simplify our account, but it requires more attestations of SÍSKUR and EZEN₄ in CTH 330 for its confirmation.</footnote>

<footnote n="161">161 Michele Cammarosano (pers. comm.) turns our attention to the opposite state of affairs in two recently published texts from Kayalıpınar (Šamuha), which refer to periodical cult offerings per-</footnote>
We conclude that the scholar-scribes of Hattuša perceived the difference between, on the one hand, privately sponsored religious performances originating from Kizzuwadna and the Lower Land, and, on the other hand, Hattuša state cult. The conceptualization of this distinction might be responsible for the evolved Hittite meanings of SISKUR and EN SISKUR, which are conventionally rendered as ‘ritual’ and ‘ritual patron’ respectively.

formed by specific individuals or groups of individuals by means of the Sumerogram SISKUR. These are KpT 1.39 § 14 (SISKUR MU.KAM), § 15, § 16, § 17, § 18, § 21, § 22, § 23 (SISKUR *šuppiyaḫḫuwaš*), § 26, and KpT 1.41 § 2, § 3 (SISKUR MU.KAM), § 6; see Cammarosano 2019, 72–74, 84. Cammarosano offers the following explanation for these data: “The use of SISKUR, here in the sense of ‘offering’, instead of the usual EZEN, might represent a peculiarity of a local scribal circle or may have been triggered by the seemingly small extent of the offerings and by the fact that the ceremony arguably did not entail the participation of any congregation.”

DOI: 10.13173/9783447119955.2.331

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# APPENDIX III
## DEITIES AND IMPURITY
### IN THE PURIYANNI AND KUWATTALLA TRADITIONS

Laura Puértolas Rubio

### III.1 INTRODUCTION

In the ritual texts belonging to the Puriyanni and Kuwattalla traditions, the neutralization of impurity plays a central role. This impurity not only affects the patient and his household, but can also touch the deities. The aim of this appendix is to examine how deities and impurity can interact, focusing on two particular examples from the Puriyanni and Kuwattalla traditions. Through the contextual study of these examples, two different ways in which deities can be polluted will be highlighted, which will be conducive to analyzing in depth the role played by the deities in the ritual process, as well as their relationship with the patient and with the source(s) of impurity.

In the first substantial part of this appendix (Sections III.2.1–4), the defilement of the Storm-god of the Open Country will be addressed. This god plays a central role in the text of the ritual of Puriyanni against impurity in a house (CTH 758). First, the characteristics of the Storm-god of the Open Country and his connection with impurity will be examined to explain the importance of this god in the ritual. Then, we shall turn to the analysis of the expression ‘defilement of the Storm-god of the Open Country’ in this context and its possible connotations concerning a hypothetical pol-lution of this god during the ritual.

The second substantial part of this appendix (Sections III.3.1–4) will focus on the purification of the deities’ mouths mentioned in the incantations of the *dupaduparša*-ritual (CTH 759). These incantations deal with the neutralization of various evils affecting the patient and cursing the evil person. In some of them, the Old Woman ex-horts the deities to wash their mouths with oil and honey. Through the examination of this group of incantations, the connotations of mouth-washing in this context will be highlighted, with the emphasis first placed on the role played by the mouth in the ritual and then on the nature of the perceived divine involvement in the ritual proc-ess. Finally, the ritual gestures associated with the purification of the mouth will also be discussed in some detail.

DOI: 10.13173/9783447119955.2.349

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© by authors
### III.2 THE DEFILEMENT OF THE STORM-GOD OF THE OPEN COUNTRY

#### III.2.1 *The Storm-god of the Open Country in the Puriyanni tradition*

In the Puriyanni tradition, the Storm-god of the Open Country plays a central role in the ritual against impurity in a house. This ritual is recorded as a one-tablet text in different versions, reflecting both a Middle Script and New Script ductus. Unfortunately, some sections of the text are lost and, therefore, its complete reconstruction is thus far not possible. The importance of the Storm-god of the Open Country for the ritual can already be inferred from the incipit and the colophon of the text. The first one appears in the version classified under CTH 758.2.1 and states:

> Thus (speaks) Puriyanni: If there is some impurity in a person's house, I perform the following sacrifice to the Storm-god of the Open Country, (i.e.) ('(that) of impurity'.) I take this:<fnref n="162" />

The matching colophon, preserved in a fragmentary state, is classified under CTH 758.2.3:

> [If there is some] impu[rity] in a person's house, I celebrate thus [the Storm-g]od [of the Open Country. I take this]. [First tablet. W]ords of Puriyanni [...].<fnref n="163" />

The next mention of the Storm-god of the Open Country after the incipit appears in a Luwian incantation associated with the ritual waving of the *taluppi*-lump over the patient. The passage states:

> [He waves] the dough figuri[ne over] him and, at the same time, [he says] t[hus]: § “Here (is) the *taluppi*-lump. [It has been separated] by cutting (and) crushi[ng] (and) flatt[ened] by the rolling tool. § (Likewise), may he flatten them! May the ritual patron [separate] them! [May] the ev[i]l matter [not (be)] again [in the presence] of the deities of the ritual patron [(and turn into) the defilement] of the Storm-god of the Open Country! So may this [*taluppi*-lump] take all (of those)!<fnref n="164" />

A similar incantation mentioning the Storm-god of the Open Country is associated with a ritual gesture involving a rope and the cutting of something, perhaps a figure, unfortunately lost in the gap.<fnref n="165" /> After the ritual waving of the *taluppi*-lump, a substitution rite follows.<fnref n="166" /> Then the text describes a sequence mentioning seeds and precious metals handed over to the Storm-god of the Open Country.<fnref n="167" />

<footnote n="162">162 KUB 7.14(+) i 1–4; CTH 758.2.1; NS.</footnote>

<footnote n="163">163 KBo 29.1 iv 1’–3’; CTH 758.2.3; NS.</footnote>

<footnote n="164">164 KUB 35.54 ii 6’–16’; CTH 758.1; MS. A similar sequence appears in KBo 53.228(+): 4”–10”; CTH 758.3.3; NS.</footnote>

<footnote n="165">165 KBo 22.137+ ii 10–18; CTH 758.2.2; NS.</footnote>

<footnote n="166">166 KUB 35.54 ii 17’–26’ (CTH 758.1; MS) and KUB 7.14(+) ii 1’–5’ (CTH 758.2.1; NS).</footnote>

<footnote n="167">167 KUB 35.54 ii 27’–41’; CTH 758.1; MS. The first part of this sequence can also be found in KUB 7.14(+) ii 6’–11’ (CTH 758.2.1; NS).</footnote>
The defilement of the Storm-god of the Open Country is mentioned later in an incantation accompanying the ritual waving of an animal substitute.<fnref n="168" />

Finally, the fragment classified under CTH 758.2.2 records an offering to the Sun-god and the Storm-god of the Open Country.<fnref n="169" />

### III.2.2 The Storm-god of the Open Country outside the Puriyanni Tradition

In the Hittite-Luwian corpus of the Puriyanni tradition, the name of the Storm-god of the Open Country is written *im(ma)rašša* DÎM,<fnref n="170" /> *im(ma)rašša* DU,<fnref n="171" /> LÎL-aš* DU*<fnref n="172" /> or *gimraš* DU.<fnref n="173" /> In addition, the writing *DU* ṢĒRI is also found in other Hittite texts (van Gessel 1998, 785). In the incipit of Puriyanni’s ritual against impurity in a house, the Storm-god of the Open Country is accompanied by the epithet *DParattašši*-.<fnref n="174" /> This epithet is translated here as ‘(that) of impurity’,<fnref n="175" /> which may refer to one of the functions of this god, indicating that he is a specialist in purification.<fnref n="176" /> Hittite texts show different examples of a divine epithet used to describe the deity’s field of action. This is the case, for instance, of the ‘Sun-god of illness’ (*inanaš* DUTU), who can be called during a ritual to treat an ill person (Mouton 2020b, 226). The divine epithet *DParattašši* - appears only here and in a passage of a text of a festival in honor of *Huwaššanna* recording a drinking rite:

> He/she drinks with wine. He/she drinks *îštar* [...], Wašali of the Storm-god, ‘(that) of impuri[t]y’. Māliya, Waššiya, the Tarway[a]t- deities, Mimiyanta, Tūriyanta *hurranna*, the male [go]ds, Māliya, Wanama, Kuršali, deities of the grandmothers<fnref n="177" /> (and) *āllinienza* (and) the Good Day. He/she crum[b]les a loaf.<fnref n="178" />

The presence of the Storm-god of Impurity in a festival for *Huwaššanna* could indicate that this god is associated with the circle of the Lower Land goddess *Huwaššanna*. Nevertheless, Lombardi (1999) and Hutter (2013, 182) have noted that this festival text seems to have been a special case within the genre. Most of the deities listed there

<footnote n="168">168 KUB 35.54 ii 46'-iii 11; CTH 758.1; MS. A similar sequence can be found in KUB 7.14(+) iii 6'-15' (CTH 758.2.1; NS).</footnote>

<footnote n="169">169 KBo 22.137+ iii 1"-9"; CTH 758.2.2; NS.</footnote>

<footnote n="170">170 KUB 35.54 ii 14', 35', 37', iii 7 (CTH 758.1; MS), KBo 22.137+ ii 16 (CTH 758.2.2; NS).</footnote>

<footnote n="171">171 KBo 53.228(+): 9" (CTH 758.3.3; NS).</footnote>

<footnote n="172">172 KUB.7.14(+) i 2 (CTH 758.2.1; NS).</footnote>

<footnote n="173">173 KBo 22.137+ iii 6" (CTH 758.2.2; NS).</footnote>

<footnote n="174">174 KUB 7.14(+) i 3 (CTH 758.2.1; NS).</footnote>

<footnote n="175">175 See the commentary on the edition of this passage.</footnote>

<footnote n="176">176 I would like to thank Alice Mouton for pointing this out to me.</footnote>

<footnote n="177">177 For this translation, see the commentary to KBo 9.141 i 16'-17' (CTH 761.2.4).</footnote>

<footnote n="178">178 *îštu gestin ekuzi* D*îštar=ma=[...] *D*Wašaliyan ša *D*ÎM paratta[šš]iš *D*Māliyaš *D*Waššiyaš *D*Tarway[a]tinzi *D*Mimiyantaš *D*Tūriyantaš *D*hurrannan[a] [DINGI]R² LÚMES *D*Māliyaš *D*Wanamaš *D*Kuršališ DINGIRMES uranninza *āllini[in]enza {x} *D*U₄.SIG₅ ekuzi NINDA.GUR₄.RA par[š]iya (KBo 29.33+ r.col. 5'-11'; CTH 694.1.A; MS; for an edition of this passage, see Lombardi 1999, 237 and 240). All the transcriptions and translations quoted in this appendix, which are not included in the corpus of the Luwili Project, come from my personal collation of the tablets' photographs (available in the Hethitologie Portal Mainz; www.hethport.uni-wuerzburg.de/HPM/index.php) and, thus, may differ from other authors' editions.</footnote>
(including the Storm-god of Impurity) do not appear in other sources, not even in
other texts related to the goddess Ḫuwaššanna, which makes it impossible to attrib-
ute them to a specific Luwian cultic center. In contrast, the Storm-god of the Open
Country is also attested in other Hittite texts. For instance, he is listed, together with
other deities, in another drinking rite in a text of a festival ofLLallupiya:

Afterward, [they drink ...] of the house. [Afterward, ditto] the Tutelary deity of the inner chamber. § Afterward, [ditto the Sun]-deity of the gatehouse. [Afterward], ditt[o Šuwašš]unna. § Afterward, [ditto] Iyarri. [Afterward], ditto [Šiuri]. § Afterward, [ditto] Iyaššalašši. [Afterward, d]itto [Wandu]. § Afterward, [...] the Storm-god of the Open Country [...].<fnref n="179" />

He also appears in a cult inventory text associated with different towns—namely,
Iššanašši, Šapagurwanta, Mallitta, and Tabbaruta.<fnref n="180" /> Thanks to their location along an
Old Assyrian route between Wašḫaniya and Waḫšušana, Cammarosano (2018, 436)
has suggested the area west of Kaneš/Neša, which probably corresponds to the Lower
Land, as the most probable geographical setting of this inventory. The paragraph on
the town Tabbaruta provides the description of the cult image attributed to this god:

One wooden ram: Storm-god of the Open Country, in the house of the priest.<fnref n="181" />

Finally, the Storm-god of the Open Country is present in a text containing invoca-
tions to Hattian deities. The text states:

When the prince (lit. child) conjures for the vizier of the Storm-god, the singer say[s]: “For humankind, you (are) the Storm-god’s vizier, [but among] the deities you (are) the Storm-god of the Open Country. [You hold] heaven [and] earth.” This (is) establish[ed] in the recitation of the Storm-god.<fnref n="182" />

To my knowledge, this is not only one of the most ancient attestations of the Storm-
god of the Open Country, but also the only one belonging to a Hattian milieu. This
could indicate a Hattian origin of the Storm-god of the Open Country. Nevertheless,

<footnote n="179">179 EGIR-anda=ma ŠA É x[... akuwanzi EGIR-anda=m]a D'LAMMA É ŠA [KI.MIN] § EGIR-anda=ma ḫilamnaš D[UTU-un KI.MIN EGIR-anda=ma DŠuwašš]unnan K.I.M.[IN] § EGIR-anda=ma D'Yarrin [KI.MIN EGIR-anda=ma DŠiurin] K.I.MIN § EGIR=ŠU=ma D'Iyaššalašši[n K.I.MIN EGIR=ŠU=ma D'Wandun K]I.MIN § EGIR=ŠU=ma D'U ŠÉRI ueši-[...]x (KUB 25.37+ iv 12–16; CTH 771.1; NS; for a transliteration of this passage, see Starke 1985, 348–49).</footnote>

<footnote n="180">180 KUB 38.6+ (with dupl. KBo 70.109+; CTH 527.40; NS/LNS) i 37' (Iššanašši), iv 14' (Šapagurwanta) and iv 24' (Mallitta). For an edition of this text, see Cammarosano 2018, 433–70. The Storm-god of the Open Country is also mentioned in other fragments of cult inventories (KUB 51.7 obv. 12; CTH 528.111; NS; KBo 26.154: 5; CTH 527.13; NS). Unfortunately, these fragments' poor state of preservation makes it impossible to associate the mentions contained therein to a specific town.</footnote>

<footnote n="181">181 1 UDU.ŠIR GIŠ DU LIL ŠA É LUŠANGA (KBo 70.109+ iii 40"; CTH 527.40.A; NS; for an edition of this passage, see Cammarosano 2018, 454–55).</footnote>

<footnote n="182">182 mān DUMU-aš ANA SUKKAL=ŠU ŠA D'IM ḫukzi L'NAR mem[ai] dandukišni D'IM-naš LU'SUKKAL=ŠU zik DINGIRMES-naš=[a ištarna] gimraš D'IM-aš zik nu nepiš tēkan=[(n)a ḫarši] kē=ma=ašta D'IM-aš maltešna⟨š⟩ ḫan[tan] (KUB 8.41(+) ii 10–13; CTH 733.III.b.1.A; OS; for another edition of this passage, see La-roche 2016, 331–32).</footnote>
it is also possible that this deity was included in central Anatolian pantheons very early on, as seems also to be the case for the Luwian goddess Maliya (Taracha 2009, 115) and the Luwian Sun-deity of the *hilammar* (Mouton and Rutherford, 2010, 278). In view of the above attestations of this god, its presence in the Luwian local traditions is beyond doubt. Nevertheless, except for the epithet *parattašši* - and the mention of the Storm-god of the Open Country in the ritual of Puriyanni, the available texts do not highlight other relevant connections between this god and impurity. Thus, to understand why the Storm-god of the Open Country is also ‘(that) of impurity’, we shall examine the link between impurity and the open country.

### III.2.3 Impurity and the open country

HED K, 175 defines Hittite *gimra-* as ‘the outdoors, countryside, steppe, wilderness; rangeland, ranch, field; field action, military campaign’,<fnref n="183" /> while Luwian /immar(i)-/ is rendered as ‘open country’ in CLL, 89. In a broader sense, these words can designate any location outside the town, and therefore their exact meaning can only be inferred from context. Thus, as G. Beckman has shown, when *gimra-* refers to the surroundings of a city, it evokes the idea of a ‘cultivated place’ and can be translated as ‘field’. However, when it refers to more distant and uninhabited areas, it is better translated as ‘wilderness’ or ‘territory’ (Beckman 1999, 162–65). This second meaning of *gimra-* refers to the place where its connection with impurity should be sought. The contagious nature of impurity and its danger to society<fnref n="184" /> mean that activities likely to produce impurity—for instance, polluting rituals—are carried out in the open country (Beckman 1999, 162). One example of this attitude can be found in the text of Allaiturahhi’s ritual, where the patient goes into the open country to wash himself before coming back to his house:

> That one washes off in the open country itself, then he goes into his house.<fnref n="185" />

The open country is not only the place where certain polluting ritual actions take place, but it may also be the right setting to get rid of polluted things. The following paragraph from the Hittite Laws shows the dangers of disposing of polluted residues in an inhabited area without doing so properly:

> If the cattle of a person *are stricken by the deity*<fnref n="186" /> and he cleanses<fnref n="187" /> them and drives them (home), but he places the salt<fnref n="188" /> on the *salt’s container*<fnref n="189" /> without

<footnote n="183">183 On the etymology of this word, see Vanséveren 2008 (with bibliography).</footnote>

<footnote n="184">184 On this topic, see in more detail Mouton 2012.</footnote>

<footnote n="185">185 *apāš=ma=za arḫa gimri=pat ārri n=aš=za arḫa INA É=ŠU paizzi* (KUB 27.29+ i 37’-38’; CTH 780.II.Tf06.A; NS; for an edition of this text, see Haas and Wegner 1988, 122–43).</footnote>

<footnote n="186">186 For this translation, see Hoffner 1997, 131 fn. 429. CHD Š, 506a suggests the uncertain translation ‘to go crazy (?)’.</footnote>

<footnote n="187">187 I follow here the translation suggested to me by Alice Mouton (pers. comm.).</footnote>

<footnote n="188">188 For this translation (based on the duplicate KBo 67.269: 3’), see HW² IV, 280b-81b. Certainly, it is the salt that has been in contact with the cattle.</footnote>

<footnote n="189">189 For this uncertain word, see HW² IV, 281b-82a. This translation was suggested to me by Alice Mouton (pers. comm.).</footnote>
telling it to his colleague, (so that) the colleague, without knowing (it), drives his cattle (there) and (the cattle) die, (there will be) compensation.<fnref n="190" />

In addition, *gimra-* can also be translated as ‘battlefield’ and, secondarily, as ‘military campaign’ (Beckman 1999, 162–63). Therefore, it is not surprising that several rituals associated with the army take place in the *gimra-*,<fnref n="191" /> as shown through the following example, which comes from the text of a ritual for purifying a defeated army:

> Afterward, they perform the ritual of the open country as they (normally) perform the ritual of the open country.<fnref n="192" />

At this point, we can wonder whether the connection between impurity and the open country is specifically associated with the Storm-god of the Open Country or whether it also appears with other deities related to this location. According to van Gessel 1998, only four deities are named with the epithet ‘of the Open Country’: the Storm-god of the Open Country, the Tutelary deity of the Open Country, the deity Ala of the Open Country, and *IŠTAR* of the Open Country (also translated as *IŠTAR* of the Battlefield). The last goddess is associated in many rituals with military contexts and, thus, seems to be related to the military activity that takes place in the open country.<fnref n="193" /> The next passage, from the text of a festival for *IŠTAR* of Šamuḫa, shows this connection:

> (If) the king, in some year, does not go on a military campaign, there is no am-bašši-rite, keldi-rite and votive offering of ‘going on the campaign’ for *IŠTAR* of the Open Country of Šamuḫa, because the king does not go on a military cam-paign.<fnref n="194" />

As for the Tutelary deity of the Open Country, he is related to the hunt. A cult inven-tory text describes his cult image as follows:

Town of Wiyanauwanta: Tutelary deity of the Open Co[untry: the divine] (im-age is) one statuette of gold, of a man, [stan]ding; he wea[rs] a horned helmet; in (his) right hand he holds a golden bow; [in] (his) left [hand] he holds a golden

<footnote n="190">190 takku šuppalaš=šet kuēlqa šeuniaḥta (dupl. šiuniaḥta; šiuniyaḥta; šīu[niaḥta?]) *t=at* (dupl. *n=at*) parkunuzi (dupl. parkunuzzi) *n=at* arha pennāi išuwanalli=ma=kan (dupl. <i>šuwanalli=ma=kan>) išuwan (dupl. MUN-an) dāi (dupl. dā<<at>>i) *ari=(š)ši=ma=at* UL tezzi Lūaraš=(š)a (dupl. *a[raš=(š)a]*; [Lū? a] rāš=(š)a) UL šakki šuppalaš=šet pennāi *n=at* aki šarnikzil (KBo 6.26 i 22–27; CTH 292.II.a.B; with dupl. KBo 6.10 iv 10’–12’; CTH 292.II.b.A; KBo 6.18 iv 1–6; CTH 292.II.b.C; KBo 6.15 iv² 13’–16’; CTH 292.II.b.D; HFAC 4 1–5; CTH 292; KBo 67.269: 1’–6’; CTH 292; NS; for another edition of this passage, see Hoffner 1997, 130–31).</footnote>

<footnote n="191">191 For this kind of rituals, see Beal 1995 and Mouton 2016b.</footnote>

<footnote n="192">192 EGIR-anda=ma=za gimra⟨š⟩ SÍSKUR ienzi gimraš GIM-an SÍSKUR iššanzi (KUB 17.28 iv 55–56; CTH 426.2; NS; for an edition of this text, see Fuscagni 2016b).</footnote>

<footnote n="193">193 For some examples, see Mouton 2016b, 11 fn. 30. See also Beckman 1999, 163 (with bibliography).</footnote>

<footnote n="194">194 LUGAL-uš=ma kuedani MU-ti LIL-ri UL panza nu=šmaš LIL-ri pauwaš ANA D*IŠTAR* LIL URU *Samuha* SÍSKUR ambašši keldi=ya maldeššar=a UL ešzi LUGAL-uš kuit kimri UL paizzi (KUB 27.1 i 31–34; CTH 712.A; NS; for an edition of this text, see Haas 1998, 182–84).</footnote>
eagle (and) a golden hare. (He has?') one golden knife with golden fruits attached. He stands on a stag of gold, (standing) on four (legs). Silv[er ...].<fnref n="195" />

This god appears in several festival texts and is associated with the goddess Ala, the other Tutelary deity that carries the epithet ‘of the Open Country’.<fnref n="196" /> The association of these two deities with the open country can easily be related to its understanding as ‘wilderness’. However, neither *IŠTAR* of the Open Country nor these tutelary deities appear to have a specific connection with the impurity attributed to the *gimra*-. Only the Storm-god of the Open Country is provided with an additional epithet *parattašši*- ‘(that) of impurity’. As a hypothesis, we can suggest that the neutralization of the impurity associated with the *gimra*- falls within the scope of action of this god.

### III.2.4 The role of the Storm-god of the Open Country in the ritual of Puriyanni

If the Storm-god of the Open Country is in charge of neutralizing impurity, then it seems logical that a ritual against impurity was dedicated to this god. That would explain his central role and his importance in the ritual of Puriyanni. The active participation of the Storm-god of the Open Country in the neutralization of impurity is explicitly mentioned in the following excerpt of the text:

> He presents silver, gold, all the see[ds], the [ra]ke, *müila*-tool, shovel, [spa]de (and) *tiddutri*-tool and, at the same time, he says thus: § “Here lie [a]ll (kinds of) seeds, (and) underground treasures. The ritual [p]atron has han[d]led them with the *hattara*-tool. He has han[d]led them with the *turi*-tool. He handed them over to the Storm-g[o]d of the Open Country. § He gave them to the Storm-god of the Open C[o]untry, so that he (i.e. the Storm-god) treated (ritually) the e[v]il matter (and) [defile]ment. May they no[t] come b[ac]k into the presence of the deities of the ritual patron! § Here (are) h[eav]en (and) earth! So, as [heav]en does not become earth and (as) [e]arth does no[t] b]come [h]eaven, may those offerings likewise not become [...]!”<fnref n="197" />

In this passage, the seeds and precious metals may represent the evil matter that is destroyed by the ritual patron, possibly using the tools mentioned immediately after the seeds. Then, the whole is handed over to the Storm-god of the Open Country, who seems to be responsible for taking care of impurity. It is likely that these objects have a double function: on the one hand they represent the evil matter, and on the other hand they serve as offerings for the god (as the last sentence of the excerpt appears to indicate). Although the Storm-god of the Open Country is the main addressee of the ritual, it is worth noting that, in the only passage recording an offering

<footnote n="195">195 uru *Wiyanauwanta* dlamma lí[l dingir-*lim-tar*] 1 alam kù.gi lú [gu]b-*an kurutāuwa[nza] zag-naza šu-za gīṣpan kù.gi harzi gùb-*la[za šu-za] tīgmušen kù.gi arnabu kù.gi harzi 1 gír kù.gi gurun kù.gi=ši-*kan anda ana* lu.lim kù.gi=*kan* 4 ki.gub gub-*ri* kù.ba[bbar ...] (KUB 38.1+ ii 1’-6’; CTH 527.46; LNS; for another edition of this passage, see Cammarosano 2018, 310-11).</footnote>

<footnote n="196">196 On these deities, see McMahon 1991, 44-46 and 11-14 respectively.</footnote>

<footnote n="197">197 KUB 35.54 ii 27'-45'; CTH 758.1; MS. The first part of this sequence can also be found in KUB 7.14(+) ii 6'-11' (CTH 758.2.1; NS).</footnote>
explicitly mentioning the Storm-god of the Open Country, a Sun-god is also included
and seems to participate in the destruction of the impurity:

[...] (and) [I] brea[k] down the jug of wine. [*I sprinkle*] the ritual patron with water and (then) I break down the ceramic cup of water. I take [the ...-breads]. I crumble one to the Sun-god [and] I crumble on[e] to the Storm-god of the Open Country. [Then] I cast [...] into the hearth and [I] s[ay]: "Sun-god! Through running [...], you treated (ritually) the bewitched matter [...]."<fnref n="198" />

This is the only attestation of a Sun-god in the text of Puriyanni's ritual against impurity in a house. It is not surprising that a Sun-god received offerings and was asked to handle impurity, probably in collaboration with the Storm-god, who could also have been addressed in the fragmentary continuation of the incantation. Any ritual validated by different deities makes it even more efficient. Furthermore, the association of the Storm-god of the Open Country with a Sun-deity may reinforce the hypothesis of a Storm-god in charge of the treatment of impurity, as this is often the role played by solar deities addressed in ritual contexts.<fnref n="199" />

In this context, how should we interpret the expression ‘defilement of the Storm-god of the Open Country’, mentioned several times in the text of Puriyanni’s ritual? Hutter has suggested that the Storm-god of the Open Country is affected by the same impurity the ritual tries to remove.<fnref n="200" /> This interpretation will be only partially followed here. If the Storm-god of the Open Country is already polluted, it may not seem logical that he is in charge of his own purification. Besides, the rites described in the preserved parts of the text do not focus on the purification of the Storm-god. The only deities explicitly asked to be washed and purified are those of the ritual patron’s house—that is, his personal deities, as the following passage shows:

(Regarding) the water [w]hich (is) poured into a ceramic cup, salt (is) also poured into (it) and he [s]prinkles it in the house. He also sprinkles (it) on the ritual patron and he [s]ays thu[s]: § “[W]ater (is) [bro]ught from the water-course, and [s]alt (is) brought from the remote (salt-lick) rock-f[ace]. In the futur[e, w]ater will [n]ot go (back) to the [watercourse], and [in] the future, salt will no[t g]o (back) to the [rem]ote (salt-lick) rock-face. § (Likewise), may the [e]vil m[atter, def]ilement, [im]purity not com[e] back to th[is] house [in the f]uture! § As [w]ater (is) pu[r]e, may this [h]ouse, (its) [de]ities, *huwaḫurša[nt]*-s, [c]arcass, ground, p[o]dium, [he]arth, and thresho[l]d be pure! Ma[y] it be pure!” § He takes the [ceramic c]up, he holds (it) [towa]rd [the ritual patron,

<footnote n="198">198 KBo 22.137+ iii 1"-9"; CTH 758.2.2; NS.</footnote>

<footnote n="199">199 This is the case, for instance, in the text of the ritual of Allī against witchcraft (CTH 402), where the main deity addressed is the Sun-deity of the hand. Another example comes from the text of the ritual of Hāntitaššu prescribed to treat a person “[if] his years (are) [distur]bed” ([mān] (...) nu=(š)ši MU.KAM$^{3A}$=SU [nininka]nteš; KBo 11.14 i 1–2; CTH 395; NS). An edition of these texts can be found in Mouton 2016a, 192–229 and 144–67 respectively.</footnote>

<footnote n="200">200 “Another Luwian practitioner (from Kizzuwatna) was the man Puriyanni, who composed a ritual against impurity within the house. To remove this impurity, he sacrifices to the Storm-god of the open country who was affected by this impurity (see KUB 7.1 i 3).” (Hutter 2003, 252).</footnote>
and] he [say]s: “May the podium [b]e wash[ed]!” He takes [the ceramic cup a]gain, he holds (it) towa[rd] (the ritual patron), [and] he [sa]ys: “May the [ca]rcass, ground, [deiti]es, [h]uwaḥḥuršant-s, heart[h, and threshold] be washed! Here, I have washed off the e[vil m]atter. [May] it [not come] back [into the presence of] the deities!”<fnref n="201" />

Therefore, a slightly different interpretation seems to be more plausible: the Storm-god of the Open Country is not polluted at first but might be affected by the impurity during the performance of the ritual. One of the incantations mentioning the defilement of the Storm-god of the Open Country states:

> I take the rope for the second time, I cut [o]ff [the figurine], [and, at the same time], I speak [thu]s [in Luwian]: § “[It has been] separated by [crushing (and) cutti]ng, [it has been] separated by the [millstone (and) roll]ing tool. (Like-wise), [may] the ritual patron [separate] the evi[l matter. May it not] (become) the de[filement] of the Storm-god of [the Open Country]! May [all these deities] of the ritual [patron also] be [pur]e!” § He takes [...], he cuts it [... with] his [...]. [... in the same way [...].<fnref n="202" />

Apparently, the rite associated with this incantation aims to separate the ‘evil matter’ (i.e. impurity) from the patient and, simultaneously, from his personal deities. However, in separating it from the patient, it is necessary to prevent defilement by pollution of the god, the main interlocutor of the ritual.<fnref n="203" /> The following excerpt describing the ritual waving of an animal substitute also seems to point in this direction:

> He waves the billy goat at the corners of the house, and, at the same time, he says [t]hus: § “May they [l]et it go, (namely) the household (deities), the [p]odium, the hearth, the ḫuwahḥuršant-, the ground § (and) the frame (of the house): the ev[il matter], defilement, impuri[ty], past (or) [p]resen[t], internal (or) e[x]terna[l], of the dead (or) the livi[ng]! § Afterward, may it not (be) in the presence of these deities (and turn into) the defilement of the Storm-god of the Open Country! § May the billy goat carry it away, with (its) four legs, with (its) snout, with (its) horns! May it carry it away!”<fnref n="204" />

If this interpretation is correct, this text highlights the risks that the participation of a god in a purificatory ritual could entail for him. These risks would be directly related to the contagious nature of impurity. It is worth noting that the Storm-god of the Open Country is not only present during the ritual, but also in direct contact with impurity, as shown in the passage commented on above, where the impure ritual items are handed over to him. Thus, it is possible that Puriyanni’s second ritual<fnref n="205" />

<footnote n="201">201 KUB 35.54 iii 12–38; CTH 758.1; MS.</footnote>

<footnote n="202">202 KBo 29.4+ ii 10–21; CTH 758.2.2; NS.</footnote>

<footnote n="203">203 I would like to thank Alice Mouton for discussing this aspect at length with me.</footnote>

<footnote n="204">204 KUB 35.54 ii 46’–iii 11; CTH 758.1; MS. A similar sequence can be found in KUB 7.14(+) iii 6’–15’ (CTH 758.2.1; NS).</footnote>

<footnote n="205">205 KUB 35.57 (CTH 758.4; NS).</footnote>