I’ve been reading Stephen Mitchell’s translation of Gilgamesh for maybe a month. Well, it’s actually pretty short, and I read it all the night I got it, but I left it on my nightstand near my bed and I keep popping it open and reading snippets. It’s pretty good.
But it’s good by modern standards. It’s freaky that the oldest story we have, the epic of Gilgamesh, is as complex as it is. It has all the regular mythical beast slayings and chest beating, plus a nice big helping of homo-eroticism, but the latter half of the book is not something you’d see in any regular myth.
When Gilgamesh’s soulmate Enkidu dies, Gilgamesh, a super hero who is “two-thirds divine and one third mortal”, suddenly realizes he isn’t going to live forever either. He can’t defeat death the way he’s defeated monsters… he is not immortal.
It terrifies him and wrecks him. He becomes a pale shadow of himself and leaves his castle (for he is the king of the greatest city in the world) so that he can wander the world in search of a way to avoid death.
Eventually, after much effort, he finds the one man whom the gods made immortal, a man named Utnapishtim. He tracks him down in the lands of the gods and learns his story. It turns out that Utnapishtim is the pre-historic version of Noah — that is, his story will be retold as the Noah’s Ark tale in the bible, much later. Utnapishtim was made immortal after the gods realized how foolish it was to have tried to kill off all humanity. This road to immortality isn’t going to help Gilgamesh.
After he explains all he did in order to earn immortality, Utnapishtim says, “Now then, Gilgamesh, who will assemble the gods for your sake? Who will convince them to grant you the eternal life that you seek? How would they know that you deserve it?” So Gilgamesh attempts to prove that he is deserving of immortality, but cannot. He cannot even pass the first test, to stay awake for seven days. He’s so tired that he can’t stay awake for 15 minutes.
When he realizes he’s already failed the test, Gilgamesh cries, “What shall I do, where shall I go now? Death has caught me, it lurks in my bedroom, and everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, there is only death.” But Utnapishtim is not sympathetic. All men (besides him) must die. And so Gilgamesh returns home a broken and ruined man. He is left to rule his kingdom the best he can and make his city the most glorious place possible, until he inevitably dies. The end.
It’s a nuanced and rather complex tale, especially compared to tales that I’ve read from later periods. In Norse myths, for instance, death isn’t so big a deal. But even though Gilgamesh’s world has many gods, the land of the dead is an unhappy, miserable place where people “squat in the darkness, dirt is their food, their drink is clay, they are dressed in feathered garments like birds, they never see light, and on door and bolt the dust lies thick.” Not exactly Valhalla.
To me the most touching scenes are the ones where Gilgamesh tries to come to terms with his friend’s death. “For six days I would not let him be buried, thinking, ‘If my grief is violent enough, perhaps he will come back to life again.’ For six days and seven nights I mourned him, until a maggot fell out of his nose. Then I was frightened. I was terrified of death…”
This is in the same story where Gilgamesh rebuffs and then beats up a goddess, kills a horrific monster, and sleeps with everything that has legs. It’s… really odd. And really unsettling, like a good story should be. You can probably have your library deliver it right to your doorstep for free, so why don’t you google your library and get that set up right now?
PS – if anybody has any more info about the “roller bird” referenced in the myth (one of the many doomed lovers of the goddess Ishtar), please let me know. From what I can tell, the roller bird’s myth is completely lost, which is sad.