The first issue to be explored is who is responsible for the writing of Ecclesiastes. Traditionally, the authorship has been attributed to the Israelite king, Solomon, who reigned during the golden age of Israel’s United Kingdom, in the tenth century B.C.E. The Author introduces him45 in the beginning of the book (1:1), “These are the words of the Teacher, King David’s son, who ruled in Jerusalem”. The Hebrew word translated teacher here is ‘Qohelet’
The Hebrew word “Qohelet “, is the word generally used to refer to the author and how the author uses it to refer to himself; and it is the name from which Ecclesiastes derives. This word has been variously explained as the following: a personal name, a nom de plum, an acronym, and a function (cf. Crenshaw 1988:32). One of the difficulties in comprehending the ‘meaning’ Qohelet is that there is different usage of it throughout the book. Middlemas (2007:221) writes that
At the beginning of the collection (i:i, 2), the sage is called haqoheleth (the definite article and the feminine participle), translated literally 'the Qoheieth'. The participle used this way frequently connotes “the one who engages in a certain activity
45 As argued in the next few paragraphs, the identity of the author remains a mystery, and thus a feminine author cannot be ruled out. For this work, the masculine pronoun will be used; however, this does not discount a potential female author.
When used as a name, the word Qohelet has an article (see 12:8); however, in 1:2 it lacks this article. In all likelihood, this same article is also employed in 7:27, where Qohelet takes on a feminine verb form (which is in comparison to the rest of the usage of the word, which is presented as masculine) (cf. Crenshaw 1988:30-32). Formally, the word is a Qal feminine participle, thus it is worth noting that the personal name with a feminine ending preceded the masculine. The term Qohelet occurs seven times within the entire book. Elsewhere the root qhl occurs in Hiphil or Niphal (acting as a causative or reflective/passive). Thus, aside from considering ‘Qohelet’ as a name, the word could mean “to convoke,” “to assemble (Hiphil)” or “to be gathered (Niphal)”; that is, to be used as a verb (cf. Crenshaw 1988:32).
It needs to be noted that the author claims to be part of a royal bloodline. However, the prominence of this royal testament appears limited, as this description is abandoned after the second chapter (cf. Crenshaw 1988:29). King David, Solomon’s father, did not have a son or daughter named Qohelet and it is unlikely that Qohelet was a nickname of King Solomon, or any of his other children (Bullock 1985:190). The link between “Qohelet” and Solomon could lie in the language of 1 Kings 8:1-12, where the king assembles (yaqhel) recitative of the people of Jerusalem. However, the initiative to draw on such a suitable text is probably a reflection of the author’s self-presentation in 1:12-2:26 (cf. Crenshaw 1988:32). So, if the author is not Solomon, why would they present themselves in such a manner? A common literary practise within the culture of that day was to ascribe a book to a ruler; which may be the case for the beginning of Ecclesiastes (cf. Bullock 1985:190-197). Another explanation can be found from an Egyptian royal testament, which could provide a prototype for a section of Ecclesiastes. An example of
this is the allusion to a shepherd in 12:11. The image of the Pharaohs being shepherds for their people was a regular occurrence in Egyptian literature, and the author of Ecclesiastes may have been borrowing a literary device from the surrounding nations. This can be supported by the fact that elsewhere the author presents himself as an underling—not a ruler (see Ecclesiastes 8:2, 10:20) (cf. Loader 1996:73). Nevertheless, Qohelet usually addresses his audience as a teacher, or as a wise person (hakam) (12:9), and not as a king, pharaoh, or any other type of a ruler. This by no means diminishes the authority of the author or of their reflections (cf. Loader 1996:73-75). I would argue that this ambiguity regarding the identity of the author sits neatly with Postmoderns who are happy not to have every item boxed, labelled and controlled.
While the identity of the author remains ambiguous, so too does the personality and the character of the author. Some argue that the author is a depressive workaholic, while others call the author a preacher of joy. The majority of commentators see the author as a pessimist, while others would argue the opposite, that is, that the Qohelet is an eternal optimist (cf. Seow 2001:238; Dor Shav 2008:213). Janzen (2008:479) goes as far to state that “Qohelet was a disillusioned eschatologist under a heartsick sense of the indefinite or “everlasting” deferral of such hopes.” However, again these characterisations only serve to further add confusion or exclusion to the book. For in truth, the Qohelet is neither a determinist nor a nihilist. Rather, he is a profound humanist, valuing both life and the process of learning that makes it worthy of our sincerest efforts (cf. Dor Shav 2008:213). And the Qohelet is not out to disprove any type of conventional wisdom; rather, "Qoheleth is not so much contradicting himself as observing contradictions in the world."
(Seow 2001:238). At times the negative type-setting of the Qohelet reminds one of the ease in which certain scholars have demonised postmodern thinkers, such as Derrida. By easily classifying people, it almost allows one freedom not to properly explore the depth of the wisdom within the literature.