He is co-editor of The Oxford Bible Commentary , and his previous book A History of the Bible won the Duff Cooper Prize for nonfiction. The theological identities both of textual authors as well as translators play an enormous role in the shaping of their works; whether it be evangelists looking towards functional (dynamic) equivalence to proselytise their message in mission, or scholars looking towards a formal (literal) equivalence to try and more deeply understand the 'alienation' of the text in a foreign tongue.

Barton argues, however, that there are more possibilities available to translators than this single choice. Fascinating exploration of translation of the Bible, quite pluralistic, surprisingly open to the Message, but full of tidbits on the many difficulties of translation.The final chapter intrigued me most, as it is a defence of the deuterocanonical or Apocryphal texts. However, had Christianity stuck to the Hebrew (or the Greek) we should have been deprived of this magnificent piece of scholarship. He argues convincingly that by the second century there was a loose canon of holy books that were broadly similar to those included in the Bible today.

That was why I turned to Robert Alter’s careful translation tending to formal equivalence, and Barton devotes considerable attention to Alter’s achievement. But that would be to miss a fine piece of scholarship (eminently approachable) that goes well beyond its apparent remit: touching on faith, the complex unfolding of the Biblical canon, Jewish-Christian relations, the role of The Book in the lives of believers, the importance of community to the Christian life, the challenges of translation in general, what textual criticism can achieve and so on. The Holy One, Blessed be He, placed wisdom in the heart of each and every one and they all agreed to one common understanding.An exhaustive account of biblical translations and the considerations of the translators in producing them.

Rather than seeing Jesus, known through the Gospels, as a reference point even more important than the Old Testament Scriptures, Christians after Irenaeus started to see the Gospels, the Letters and the Old Testament as all equally authoritative, parts of a unified Holy Bible. What is so crucial about this book is that it is not written in an excoriating style that seeks to define the 'perfect' translation (as Barton himself says), but rather than take a telescopic view of the enormous platter of translations meted out over 100s of years. Its scores of books were written in ancient languages, different literary styles, distinct historical settings and varying geographical locations.

Barton begins with a distinction which is both useful and problematic, that of the difference between functional translation and formal translation. He is the author of numerous books on the Bible, co-editor of The Oxford Bible Commentary and editor of The Cambridge Companion to Biblical Interpretation. EXHILARATING”, says the cover blurb — and, amazingly, it is: scholarly intelligence, a readable style, and insights at every turn, with no language but English needed. Sceptics, indeed, might find in his magisterial overview of the history of the Bible clear evidence that orthodox religions are grounded in the beliefs of communities rather than in a single authoritative text that records the word of God. Greek and Latin literature can reach sublime sophistication; and yet much ancient literary theory has a functional-equivalence, GNB attitude to content (what “facts” you convey) and form (how you “clothe” facts with words).

They regarded the life of Christ as the great truth towards which the Hebrew prophets and scriptures pointed, and which superseded the old faith and its laws. Barton says this history is “the story of the interplay between religion and the book – neither mapping exactly onto the other”. Now, if you were to open the King James Version, you would get “Saul had reigned one year, and when he had reigned two years…” If you opened the New English Bible, lo and behold, it is “Saul was 50 years old when he became king”, and turning to the Revised English Bible, he is 30.

We might conclude that “content” deals with important things and acts (nouns and verbs), but “form” with less important impressions and feelings (adjectives and adverbs). At the beginning of Goethe’s Faust, the scholar is puzzling over the best word to convey the Greek “logos”, used at the beginning of the Gospel of St John and most usually translated as “the Word”. I think what negatively affects the reading is that the editor probably didn't worry about "getting it right" and didn't bring in expertise to guide the narrator.