The silence among the array of characters at the end of the prologue is shattered. The outburst is striking. Here, psychologically, Job moves from silence to give voice, in the company of others, to his calamity. Out of his anguish, Job curses his existence, focusing primarily on the day of his birth. Imagery of light and darkness, day and night weaves the soliloquy together. His outcry is beyond a response to his friends. It flows from the calamities that have befallen him. His sorrow, pain, and confusion fumble about together as raw emotion. None of the prologue’s detached, sterile setting has seeped in. Because of language similar to the Psalter’s own laments, the psychological and interpretive effects of Job’s words convey a suffering typical of all humanity, though extreme. Yet in Jo…