Tuesday, February 12, 2013

"The Epic of Gilgamesh": A Review


“…Readers will discover that, rather than standing before an antiquity in a glass case, they have entered a literary masterpiece that is as startlingly alive today as it was three and a half millennia ago.”

~ pg 2, Introduction to Stephen Mitchell’s New English Version of The Epic of Gilgamesh
The Epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest (if not the earliest) stories recorded in human history. It is comprised of eleven books and was written in the fertile crescent of Mesopotamia, circa 1700 B.C.  by an unknown author in a language that was dead and buried for centuries before 19th century A.D. archaeologists and linguists dug this story out of the ground and set to work understanding it.

The story takes place a thousand years before it was written. Gilgamesh is the king of Uruk, a Mesopotamian city. Like Superman, he is strong and defends his domain. Unlike Superman, Gilgamesh is arrogant, violent, and massively flawed as a character. He may defend his scrap of civilization from outsiders, but it is a selfish sort of defense, that he may exert complete control over the citizens and subject them to his own barbarities.


In anguish to be free from their king, the people of Uruk cry out to Anu, the equivalent of Zeus and king of the gods. Anu tells the goddess Anuru to create a mirror for Gilgamesh—not unlike a doppelganger—in that this rival will be two-thirds animal while Gilgamesh is two-thirds god. And so Enkidu is born. 

Gilgamesh hears of this new arrival: a wild-man in the forest. He sends a priestess of Ishtar (the goddess of love) to simultaneously seduce and civilize this unknown threat.* Then she suggests they go to Uruk. On the way to the city Enkidu finds out that Gilgamesh has been taking men’s brides for himself.  Enkidu, created by the gods to temper Gilgamesh’s barbaric tyranny against his people, is filled with rage.

So Enkidu fulfills his purpose for existence by challenging Gilgamesh and fighting him. Gilgamesh triumphs, but rather than cower off or beg for mercy, Enkidu acknowledges his prowess and right to kingship. It was never in rebellion that Enkidu challenged him, but a god-given instinct to serve as a foil to temper Gilgamesh’s overwhelming authority.  With Enkidu’s challenge to Gilgamesh, their combat, and final union as friends, the Uruk citizens have been pacified, the gods have answered, and all is right with the world. Until Book III.

Then Gilgamesh comes up with a brilliant idea to rock the boat and go kill a monster, Humbaba, who lives in the Cedar Forest. In a world that clearly subsists on balance, this is a clear trespass on Gilgamesh’s part, and the gods decide that to restore balance (again) through the death of whoever causes Humbaba’s demise.  

Enkidu accompanies Gilgamesh, and the friends urge each other onward through the terrors of the Cedar Forest. When Gilgamesh has fought and brought Humbaba his knees begging for mercy, Enkidu encourages him to kill the monster. With this action Enkidu forfeits his own life. After twelve days of agony, Enkidu dies and leaves Gilgamesh friendless, teaching us that even in Babylonia storytellers were wont to kill off your favorite character.


Gilgamesh is overcome with grief, but not so much that he accepts Enkidu’s fate without a fight. Determined to bring his friend back even from the afterlife, Gilgamesh seeks out a man who attained immortality, named Utnapishtim. (Utnapishtim’s backstory is interesting in itself, as it is one of the parallel flood legends that echoes the story of Noah’s Ark.)  

Utnapishtim, however, has paid for his immortality: his life is like a shadow of what it once had been. Nevertheless he sets Gilgamesh a challenge: if Gilgamesh can remain awake for seven days, perhaps he is strong enough to overcome death itself. After his long quest, Gilgamesh is so exhausted he falls asleep immediately. 
  

Failing to bring his friend back to life, Gilgamesh himself resolves to seek life. He retrieves a youth-bringing plant from the Great Deep, but it is soon stolen away from him by a serpent.

And so Gilgamesh ends with the hope of immortality, regeneration, and even super-power stripped from its hero. In its place comes a wisdom that takes root in Gilgamesh’s character on the long, defeated trek back to Uruk.    


We still continue to grow in our understanding of this story. The original language, Akkadian, written in pictographs called cuneiform, is still hardly understood even amongst the best linguists. Every shard of stone with a pictograph changes the nature of our understanding of the language, the culture, and by extension the story itself.   


*However this part is interpreted, either as misogyny or symbolizing Woman’s ability to bring civilization, this is a graphic part of the book. And since this is a “family blog,” I’m keeping it PG, people!



Recommended Reading Age: Adult (18+)

Parental Notes: As I mention above this epic contains graphic descriptions that would not be appropriate for anyone under high school age.
Availability: My copy is the New English Versiontranslated by Stephen Mitchell, but it can also be found online at AncientTexts, and is available free on Kindle.  

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