The Epic of Gilgamesh

…walk on the wall of Uruk, follow its course
around the city, inspect its mighty foundations,
examine its brickwork, how masterfully it is built,
observe the land it encloses: the palm trees, the gardens,
the orchards, the glorious palaces and temples, the shops
and marketplaces, the houses, the public squares.

 The Epic of Gilgamesh is mankind’s oldest written long narrative. This alone would make it precious, but we also have the fortune of it being a terrific story. Almost five thousand years ago a legendary King of Sumeria, King Gilgamesh, ruled the city of Uruk. He was part man and part God, a mighty warrior, and keeper of secret wisdom. He was also a lousy king. By constantly tormenting his people he drove them to beseech their gods for relief. And so the gods created a foil to Gilgamesh, a companion that would keep him in check. This companion was Enkidu, a wild man raised by animals on the Mesopotamian savannas. A temple prostitute is sent to seduce and civilize Enkidu, who through the act of sex gains “reason and understanding.” Enkidu then travels to Uruk and fights Gilgamesh. The brawl ends in a stalemate and they become best friends.

    Together the two go on adventures slaying monsters; first the ogre Humbaba guarding a cedar forest on nearby Mount Lebanon, then the “Bull of Heaven” sent by the gods to terrorize Uruk. As divine punishment for slaying these creatures, Enkidu is sentenced to death via illness. Gilgamesh is devastated, and after giving his friend a royal funeral he leaves Uruk to wander the wild. His goal is to find Uta-napishti—the man to whom the gods gave immortal life. Gilgamesh hopes to gain immortality himself and avoid Enkidu’s fate. However, after the long and perilous journey immortality is denied to him. Gilgamesh returns home, empty handed, where he finds solace in the beauty and achievements of Uruk.

    The epic has remarkable structure given its age. A young, brazen, but fundamentally good hero is in need of some guidance and self-control. He finds an equal with whom he can befriend and identify. The adventures they go on are fun to follow and embody a spirit of exploration and courage. The world is primordial and alien, making Uruk a haven to both our heroes and the reader.  Gilgamesh and Enkidu aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, but we grow to enjoy their tender relationship. It’s their bond of brotherhood that centers the epic.

    It’s likewise Enkidu’s death that serves as the catalyst for Gilgamesh’s rite of passage into maturity. The journey to the Tavern at the End of the Earth, ostensibly in search of immortality, instead provides Gilgamesh with much needed wisdom. And it’s the journey home at the end, where he boasts of Uruk’s foundations and achievements to his boat man, that we see the story come full circle. Gilgamesh has indeed “seen the Deep.” And so have we.  

This modern impression of an ancient cylinder
seal shows a bearded hero, kneeling and
raising an outstretched lion above his head.

The epic is best seen as a coming of age story, not just for Gilgamesh, but for all mankind. His path from an arrogant, reckless youth to a proud and reflective maturity matches our own. The narrative also has impressive economy: the text only runs about 100 pages and yet manages to explore many different subjects, including humanity's break from nature, the question of good governance, the value of brotherhood and community, the power that women have in a society dominated by men, the arbitrary actions of cosmic forces, and most significantly, how humans should best deal with our mortality. Unfortunately the epic is not finished and pieces are still being discovered, but with some imagination you can easily fill in the gaps.

    My favorite line (which strangely doesn’t come from the standardized version of the story, but an earlier one) sums up the moral.

Gilgamesh, where are you roaming? You will never find the eternal life that you seek. When the gods created man kind, they also created death, and they held back eternal life for themselves alone. Humans are born, they live, then they die, this is the order that the gods have decreed. But until the end comes, enjoy your life, spend it in happiness, not despair. Savor your food, make each of your days a delight, bathe and anoint yourself, wear bright clothes that are sparkling clean, let music and dancing fill your house, love the child who holds you by the hand, and give your wife pleasure in your embrace. That is the best way for a man to live.

    Gilgamesh ultimately realizes that investing in society is the only real path to immortality. We’re not here for long, so enjoy life when you can and make sure to leave a lasting legacy for your children to inherit.

    What makes Gilgamesh so appealing is that, despite its incredible age, it has an astonishing immediacy to it. And that’s because the people of Uruk are civilized, so their problems are our problems. And refreshingly the story answers, in a simple and honest way, the questions it raises. A good king is good to his people. Celebrate life and revel in your community. Be proud of your nation and take care of it. The fact that the epic can resolve these profound issues—baked into an engaging adventure tale—makes it a story for the ages.