The flood narrative and Mesopotamian values in the Epic of Gilgamesh

Ancient Near Eastern Values in the Story Of the Flood as Told in the Epic of Gilgamesh

One of the earliest extant works of world literature and myth, the Epic of Gilgamesh also preserves one of the earliest known accounts of the Flood. As such, Gilgamesh provides antecedents to the story in the Judeo-Christian Bible. An invaluable source of information on Ancient Near Eastern values and mores, the Epic of Gilgamesh is a window on a vanished world. Its links to later Western religion and culture make it an invaluable tool in uncovering our own origins. Many of the idea in the Epic were carried through into later times, or formed the basis of Biblical concepts. The story can be read either as literature or religion, even as a kind of history, in the sense that it reveals much about life in Ancient Mesopotamia. Much of what is found in Gilgamesh also has correspondents in the thought and culture of other neighboring civilizations, namely that of the Ancient Egyptians. Egypt and Mesopotamia easily exchanged ideas and cultural constructs, many of which have formed the basis of our own Western civilization. The Flood is a common story, found not only in the lore of Mesopotamia, but in that of Ancient Greece, as well, and in the tales of many other peoples around the world. The way in which Gilgamesh tackles the problems and opportunities presented by the Flood also tells us much about what the peoples of Mesopotamians believed were important in interpersonal relationships; their values and beliefs about government, society, religion, and art. The Epic of Gilgamesh is more than a story - it is a primer on Ancient Mesopotamian Civilization, and a direct link to prehistoric modes of thought and behavior. Through the Epic of Gilgamesh we can reconstruct the origins of many aspects of our own civilization and worldview.

The Epic of Gilgamesh is preserved in a number of versions on clay tablets. The tablets themselves tell portions of the story. The tablets translated by Gardner and Maier represent a relatively late version of the story, though they look back to an old Babylonian recension of the tale, one that, -- as the tablets themselves confirm - was checked by the scribes for accuracy. Tablets IX and X concern a portion of the story preliminary to the Flood. Gilgamesh is seeking the sage Utnapishtim in reaction to the death of his beloved friend, Enkidu. In order to reach Utnapishtim, Gilgamesh must first cross over a great mountain that appears to mark the outermost boundary between the realms of the living and the dead. In Tablet IX, this mountain is clearly represented as being associated with the transit of the sun god, Shamash. In a manner that compares well with much later literary and religious conventions, light and dark are contrasted as symbolizing life and death, or good and evil. Though the purpose of Gilgamesh' journey is quintessentially human, Gilgamesh himself is described as being only part-human. The wife of the Scorpion-Man who guards the way to the twin peaks of the mountain specifically refers (IX.ii.16) specifically states of the hero of the Epic, "Two-thirds of him is god, and one-third is human." In IX.ii.17-18, the Scorpion-Man addresses himself only to the "part-god." It is as if ordinary mortals are not permitted even to contemplate the questions posed by Gilgamesh, or entertain his idea of breaching the boundaries between life and death. As in many more modern texts, there are things that pertain to Heaven, and things that pertain to humankind. The "man" Gilgamesh is not permitted to enter into the secrets of the gods. One can see in these few lines, early indications of a belief in sacredotalism; a belief that religious doctrine must be interpreted only by those specially trained to know the will of the gods, or God.

The primal quality of Gilgamesh' challenge is symbolized too, by the detailed description of his journey over the mountain. Crossing "through" the mountain is like crossing through the hours of the night. In a long passage, IX.iv-v., Gilgamesh's travels through the mountain double hour by double hour. The language employed is repetitive, as it is in so many other portions of the tale,

When he had gone six double-hours, thick is the darkness, there is no light; he can see neither behind him nor ahead of him.

IX.v.29-31

From what can be reconstructed on the tablet, the phrasing is identical until the ninth double hour is reached, after which each hour receives some additional descriptive element that serves to indicate that Gilgamesh is getting closer to his goal of traversing the mountain and returning to the "light." The mountain is a physical manifestation of the darkness that surrounds human beings and gods when they are deprived of the light of wisdom and life. Within this choking darkness, we can see neither in front nor behind. Nevertheless, we are groping blindly along a path that we must follow. There is no other way to go than through the mountain, whether we like it or not, whether we are afraid or not. In many ways, one can see in Gilgamesh' perilous journey through the mountain, the eternal quest for knowledge, for enlightenment, that has inspired men and women through the ages.

Gilgamesh next meets one of the major characters in these two tablets, Siduri the Barmaid. According to Gardner and Maier, Siduri is a manifestation of Ishtar, the Mesopotamian goddess of sexual love. Siduri lives on the edge of the sea that contains the river of the dead that definitely separates the realm of the living from the realm of the dead. Siduri's reaction to the sight of Gilgamesh in the distance is revealing of deep human reactions to the unknown:

The Barmaid looked into the distance.

She talked to her heart, said these words

She took counsel with herself

Possibly this one is a killer.

Where is he headed...

Seeing him, the Barmaid barred her door.

Her gate she closed; she shot [the bolt].

X.iii.2-7

The description is of a man who is wasted from hunger, thirst, and privation. Gilgamesh is man who has been on a long journey, physically and metaphorically. His trip over the mountain and across the wastes has indeed been taxing, yet it is the heaviness in his heart that has strained him nearly to the breaking point. Gilgamesh is a man who thirsts for knowledge, for truth, and satisfaction. His body has been broken by love for his departed friend. The use of physical suffering as a symbol for emotional and spiritual suffering is also well-known in the Western tradition. Centuries later, men and women would disappear into the desert in search of God. They would live apart from all human companionship, and deprive themselves of all physical comfort. Gilgamesh does the same. Gilgamesh is also like the lover who pines away for his beloved and wastes away in body, as well as in heart. The message is that the eternal truths of the universe are not easily discovered, and again that these truths are largely hidden from humankind. Humanity's lot is to suffer even in the face of our greatest happiness. Unlike the gods, we cannot know joy eternally. Enkidu was a dear friend, but he could not be by Gilgamesh' side forever. The joy and love that the hero had known were foreordained to be short. Even if Gilgamesh had not traveled a foot from the body of his beloved friend, it would have been as if he had been completely transformed. Sorrow, pain, and death are the lot of human beings.

The hero of the Epic continues to violate the boundaries between the temporal and the sacred in his approach to Urshunabi. As always, when faced with the unknown, he attacks it. In recounting his journey to Urshunabi, Gilgamesh describes how he killed one beast after another, slaying the sacred along with the profane. He says of himself and Enkidu,

We overcame everything: climbed the mountain,

Captured the Bull of Heaven and killed him,

Brought Humbaba to grief, who lives in the cedar forest;

Entering the mountain we slew lions

My friend who I love dearly underwent with me all hardships.

The fate of mankind overtook him.

Six days and seven nights I wept over him

Until a worm fell out of his nose.

Then I was afraid.

X.iii.17-25

This passage is repeated over and over again from this point onward. Gilgamesh is attempting to show how powerful and terrible he is, that he can overcome even the gods. He was more powerful still, in combination with his friend. Yet, death vanquished Enkidu. The repeated account of Gilgamesh' and Enkidu's physical prowess reveals a common human reaction to the unknown; a belief that any "threat" can be vanquished by brute force. Gilgamesh and Enkidu are savages, not civilized human beings.

Their approach to problem solving is one that is devoid of any deep thought, or consideration of the needs and feelings of others; of the profound truths that lie behind the surface realities. In their battle against the cosmos, Gilgamesh and his friend destroyed whatever came their way, treating the sacred in the same fashion as the profane. They lacked respect for that which they did not understand. In acting in such a fashion, he has demonstrated his unfitness to enter into the realms that belong properly only to the gods. Urshunabi responds to him,

Your own hands, Gilgamesh, have hindered the crossing.

You have destroyed the stone things and have picked up the Urnu-snakes.

The stone things are broken; the Urnu-snakes not [in the forest].

Lift up, Gilgamesh, the axe in your hand;

Go down to the forest, [cut] poles of sixty cubits;

Paint bitumen on the sockets, bring them to me."

X.iii.37-42

The hero expects to be able to cross the river of death though he has destroyed the sacred things that lie beside it. Urshunabi's answer is that Gilgamesh use his axe - his tool of death and destruction - for the constructive purpose of cutting poles to build a boat that is capable of crossing the river. The interchange between Gilgamesh and Urshunabi is indicative of the battle between the sacred and the profane, and between enlightenment and savagery that characterizes so much of Western history and civilization. On the one hand, it is possible to accord undue value to sacred objects that might otherwise have no meaning, but it is necessary to explore these meanings before passing judgment and casting tradition into the flames. On the other hand, knowledge is not gained by adhering strictly to the tried and true, but is found only by those willing to brave every obstacle in the search for it. The stone and the Urnu-snakes could be like the golden calf of the Bible - comforting and familiar symbols to an oppressed and frightened people, but they could also represent unnecessary attachments to a valueless past. Gilgamesh must learn the difference as must all men and women.

Finally, Gilgamesh meets Utnapishtim, and presents to him the same face of won't and despair that he has presented to every other being on his journey. Utnapishtim addresses the hero:

Why Gilgamesh are you full of woe?

A you who have been made of the flesh of gods and man?

You, when your father and mother made you

When [you], Gilgamesh, were [conceived] for the Fool

She was given to him, for mud is given butter,

Good flour for poor, which like.

X.v.37-43

Gilgamesh should have been happy because he combines in himself the attributes of both men and gods. A goddess lay down with a "Fool" in order to conceive him, in other words, the lowest among human beings was given a great gift, and that gift was Gilgamesh the hero. It is a common theme in Western literature religion that the lowly are raised up by their contact with the divine. Jesus Christ represents the ultimate fusion of Divine attributes with human characteristics. He, too, was but a poor man, but at the same time, the greatest of all human beings, as he was the Son of God. Moses complained to God that he could not speak, and so could not be God's emissary to Pharaoh, but God gave him the power. In later times, ordinary men and women would find inspiration in the search for knowledge, or in the creation of great art, and rise to positions of great importance. The life that human beings are given is itself a phenomenal gift, a bit of the divine mixed with the grosser elements of the profane material world - "the good flour with the poor."

The wise man, Utnapishtim, cannot understand Gilgamesh' dilemma because he cannot understand why Gilgamesh is not satisfied with his lot. Nonetheless, dissatisfaction with one's lot is a major theme and a driving force in Western culture and civilization. It has brought down empires, and created new ways of thinking and seeing.

The Epic of Gilgamesh remains pertinent today because its themes are universal. Gilgamesh' quest to attain the unattainable is a dream that is dear to many and which is fundamental to the spirit of inquiry and exploration that pervades Western thought. Gilgamesh' journey sets up a conflict between the human and the divine that resonates through the centuries, recalling battles between established authorities and traditions, and new ideas. It is also a story of self-discovery, for the hero must come to terms with not only his limits as an individual, but with the very real boundaries of being human. Human begins may want to live forever, and may wish always to know love and happiness, but this is not necessarily possible, for reasons that should become clear to Gilgamesh. In the end, we are all human, able to perceive what lies beyond, but not capable of understanding it all, or of possessing it.