Millstone Education:
World Literature

Two children reading books

Wrap-Up for
The Epic of Gilgamesh
by Glen Draeger

Printable Version (opens in new window).

Pages 61-96 / Penguin Classics Edition

Hello,

I like the first paragraph of The Epic of Gilgamesh. For any of you who are writing research papers or essays here is a model. The whole story is there in condensed form. This is the traditional way of beginning an essay or paper: tell your audience what it is you are going to tell them. Then you tell them. Then you tell them what you told them.

At the beginning of the story we have this incredible god/man, Gilgamesh who is two-thirds god and one-third man. But there's a problem with him. He's a bad shepherd. The text is clear that a king should treat his people well and this is something that Gilgamesh does not do. What's the example given of his evil? He has sex with brides, i.e. virgins, before their new husbands do. He is a despicable person, but so powerful that no one can stand against him. The people lament because one with such power should use that power in a good way, to help his people, not make them live in fear for their lives. What does this represent? Love between a husband and wife is the most intimate, private part of their lives and Gilgamesh invades that privacy. You can relate that invasion of privacy to modern governments that more and more want to know everything about us. There are advertising companies that are already testing advertising techniques that will target your home—specifically. That is, 12 families might be watching the same television program, but when the commercials come on every family would see a different commercial based upon questionnaires they have filled out or other tracking measures—possibly your buying habits at grocery stores tracked by your club cards. The point is that Gilgamesh invades the privacy of his people and he uses his power in a way that is wrong. There was the same problem in Animal Farm in a different form.

The people cry for his equal. Why is this important? They want someone who can withstand him, someone he will have to contend with so that they will be left alone.

What is Enkidu like when we first meet him? He's a wild man, a natural man. He protects the animals and he's more like them than he is a man. So what happens? A woman seduces him and he changes. Again, like so much of what we read, don't just look at this seduction as a woman seducing a man. This represents something much larger and the text gives you many clues as to what. This is an important part of the story!

Before I get into that, one thing that Enkidu represents is the uncivilized man. Gilgamesh represents civilization. On page 63 it says of Enkidu: "He was innocent of mankind; he knew nothing of the cultivated land." What is cultivated land? This is land that has been worked by farmers, land that has been planted. Interestingly enough we use the same word to say of people that they are "cultivated." What does that mean? It has do with one having good taste because of formal education and where do you find that? In civilization.

Anyway, the first thing that happens to Enkidu after he is seduced is that the animals are afraid of him after he returns and when he tries to follow them he has no strength. What does the text say? On page 65 it says, ". . . Enkidu was grown weak, for wisdom was in him, and the thoughts of a man were in his heart." Does this sound at all familiar? Think about the story of Adam and Eve. What is the tree called that they are not supposed to eat from? The tree of the knowledge of good and evil. And what is said about them? In Genesis 3:22 it says, "Then the LORD God said, "Behold, the man has become like one of Us, knowing good and evil . . ." What happens to Adam and Eve with their new knowledge? They realize they are naked and, worst of all, they are expelled from the garden and cursed with toilsome work and pain in childbirth. What happens to Enkidu with his new knowledge? He's expelled from the animal world and he loses some of his strength. Also, note what the woman says to him on page 65: "You are wise, Enkidu, and now you have become like a god." Genesis says a similar thing. In the novel Flatland A. Square says of the 3rd dimension: "This is either madness or Hell." Then the Sphere says it is "Knowledge, it is Three Dimensions: open your eyes once again and try to look steadily." All this is to say that knowledge has consequences. It may seem like a good thing, but even knowledge that appears to be good, may have unwanted results. Consider for a moment nuclear power. It's a great source of energy—but what do we give up to have it? For one thing we give up some peace of mind. Nuclear war is a reality that we may face some day. Let's take something else. Cars are great. They get us from point A to point B quickly. They make our lives easier—and yet—what price do we pay for this? There's pollution and there is also death. Some 50,000 people a year die from car accidents in the United States. That's more people in one year than died in the entire Vietnam War. I think, I'm not sure about this, that more people have died in car accidents than all our wars combined. Do we want to give up cars? Do we wish that no one had invented the combustible engine? The story of Enkidu, of Adam and Eve, of A. Square all ask us to consider the consequences of knowledge. Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus is all about this and so is Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. This is a common theme in literature. Is knowledge always worth the risk?

One of my favorite authors is Stanislaw Lem, a science fiction writer, considered by some to be our greatest living author—period. He also deals with this. In his novel, Eden, one of the characters says about a alien planet they are exploring,

"It's a question of the price. Just the price. Undoubtedly we could learn much more, but the cost of obtaining that knowledge . . . it might be too great."

This has lots of implications for science. Our knowledge seems to be increasing at an incredible rate—but what will we do with it? Where will it eventually lead us? Many people seem to think that all knowledge and more knowledge is the same as progress. But this is not necessarily so.

Back to our story. What does Enkidu mean when he says he has "come to change the old order"? We will see that his friendship with Gilgamesh changes Gilgamesh. He becomes a better person and a king that the people can respect.

There is constant reference to Gilgamesh loving Enkidu like a woman. This is not a sexual reference, but one about the depth of their friendship. Gilgamesh loves Enkidu. It is a strong friendship and their friendship changes Gilgamesh for the better. It does what friendships should do. They should help us become better people. I've had and still have male friendships that have contributed to me being a better person just as my wife has contributed to me being a better person. It can be argued that without Enkidu Gilgamesh would never have become a good king.

Gilgamesh decides to go to the Country of the Living and the Land of Cedars to kill Humbaba. Why is this? He knows his destiny and what is it? What it is not is everlasting life and this bothers Gilgamesh. He wants to destroy Humbaba to establish his name. If he can't live forever, then maybe his name can. Note what he says on page 71: "Then if I fall I leave behind me a name that endures . . ."

On page 72 there is an important paragraph. It begins "O Shamash, hear me . . ." In it we hear Gilgamesh's realization that he will die like everyone else. Remember, Gilgamesh does not believe in an afterlife. For him death means nonexistence and this why it is such a fearful thing for him. Note at the end of the passage what he says concerning going to fight Humbaba. He says to Shamash, "If this enterprise is not to be accomplished, why did you move me, Shamash, with the restless desire to perform it?" On page 75 a similar thing is said, "Oh Shamash, why did you give this restless heart to Gilgamesh, my son; why did you give it?" One could ask the same thing about knowledge. Why do we so often want to know things that are beyond our capacity to know? Is there life on other planets? What must it be like? What was it like in the days of the dinosaurs? Is there an afterlife? What will it be like? Is time travel possible? What would the implications of such travel be? Some scientists spend their lives attempting to answer questions they never will or can. Einstein, though famous for his theory of relativity, never came up with theory to explain the universe. Some scientists think we are close to that. For the record—I don't. I think it's presumptuous and arrogant on the part of science to think that it will explain the universe in a complete way anytime in the near future or the far future for that matter. You may have a different opinion. Many scientists do. Why do we want to know? Why are we such curious creatures?

Dreams are a big part of this story. Enkidu interprets many of them for Gilgamesh and they all have a prophetic quality. Gilgamesh even knew of Enkidu before he met him because of his dreams which his mother interpreted. What do you think of your dreams? Do you ever try to interpret them? Are they just strange without any meaning or do you think they mean something significant? Where do they come from? From you or from outside yourself? More questions—always questions.

There is another interesting comment that Enkidu makes. On page 80 he says, "O my lord, you do not know this monster and that is the reason you are not afraid. I who know him, I am terrified." Here's another side of knowledge. Have you heard that saying that "ignorance is bliss"? There's this whole idea out there that if you don't know something you might be better off. Do you really want to know what kind of food you get at the typical fast food joint? Do you want know how the meat is prepared before it gets to the place where it's cooked? If you've had a bad experience with something it shapes the way you think about it for the future. My son had a shot when he was very young. Before he got it he was happy as can be—wasn't even worried about it—it even surprised me. The shot, however, hurt—much more than he was expecting—I don't think he was expecting it to hurt. Now when he knows he's going to get a shot he almost starts to cry (he was 5 at the time I wrote this) because he KNOWS about shots in ways he did not before. Is it better to know the reality or to stay ignorant? Maybe some things are better to know and some things are better not to know. How do you decide? These are questions that you will have to think about for a long time and the answers will affect the way you live your life. For the record Stanislaw Lem in an interview said, "However, we cannot afford to be spared from reality, no matter how cruel, if we are to remain in the categories of the real world." On the other hand, Roger Shattuck writes, "In the fifteenth century, Nicholas of Cusa constructed a theology based on docta ignorantia — 'wise ignorance.'" "Wise ignorance" acknowledges that there are realities we cannot know and some we should not wish to know. Which do you prefer?

Gilgamesh and Enkidu kill Humbaba even after he pleas for mercy. There is another interesting sentence after this on page 83. It says, "Then there followed confusion for this was the guardian of the forest whom they had felled to the ground." Again, we have the indication that consequences follow our actions—even if the actions are good. Humbaba's death causes confusion. Sometimes killing the leader of an evil organization or government creates more evil people attempting to avenge the leader's death—maybe even a more evil leader emerges—or good may come from it. Maybe nothing like that will happen. We do not, however, know. What should be the attitudes of our governments? Caution and humility it seems to me. Things don't always turn out the way you hope or expect they will.

Then Ishtar wants to marry Gilgamesh and he refuses because he's seen what she has done to all her other lovers. He presents her with the truth, with the reality and what happens. She gets very, very angry and sends the Bull of Heaven to destroy Gilgamesh. What happens? Gilgamesh destroys the bull and because the bull dies the gods decide that Enkidu must die. Here, again, Gilgamesh and Enkidu kill a bull, something that they think is a good thing, but because they kill the bull one of them must die—a consequence that they did not consider.

Enkidu, at first, curses the woman who gave him knowledge, but then changes his mind when Shamash reminds him that without her he would have never met Gilgamesh and become friends with him. Here's a case where the bad that came with knowledge was outweighed by the good. Enkidu realized that he would rather have had the friendship of Gilgamesh than to have remained in his former wild state.

Gilgamesh says something on 93 that sounds much like the Lem quote above. He says,

"The dream was marvellous but the terror was great; we must treasure the dream whatever the terror; for the dream has shown that misery comes at last to the healthy man, the end of life is sorrow."

In this instance Gilgamesh says we must "treasure" the truth, the reality, no matter what it is, because it is the truth.

The truth, for Gilgamesh, is that his friend dies. He does not seem to "treasure" this truth, this reality. He is devastated. We will see just how devastated in the second half of the book.

Pages 97-119 / Penguin Classics Edition

Notice how this section begins: "Bitterly . . ." Not only is Gilgamesh sad that Enkidu is dead, but he is bitter, that is, resentful and angry. He has lost his best friend, his only true friend. But what is it that becomes his biggest concern? Enkidu's death reminds him of his own death. On page 97 he says, ". . . that shall I be when I am dead. Because I am afraid of death . . ." He says something similar at least a half-a-dozen times in the rest of the book. The Biblical book of Ecclesiastes echoes much that is in The Epic of Gilgamesh. For example in Eccl. 7:2 it says, "It is better to go to a house of mourning/Than to go to a house of feasting,/Because that is the end of every man,/And the living takes it to heart." Gilgamesh takes his friend's death "to heart." Because of his fear of death he decides to go in search of everlasting life and he believes that the only person who can explain to him how to get it is Utnapishtim, the only human to be granted life eternal.

One of the ways that critics view this story is as a journey that we all make in life. In the beginning Gilgamesh is brash and unconcerned about his fellow man. With Enkidu as his friend he accomplishes great things and he's happy to be with him. Together they defeat Humbaba and the Bull of Heaven. But when Enkidu dies he becomes sad and introspective, though, and this is important, he still continues his journey, but his focus has changed. In the beginning he was concerned about establishing his name, now, however, he wants eternal life. He doesn't want to die. This is a common, human plight. Most of us don't want to die—and yet—what choice do we have? We're all going to die. Gilgamesh has realized this in a way he never did before.

Gilgamesh then meets the Man-Scorpions and begins his journey into the mountain. Notice what the Man-Scorpion says about Gilgamesh's journey on page 98, "No man born of woman has done what you have asked, no mortal man has gone into the mountain; the length of it is twelve leagues of darkness; in it there is no light, but the heart is oppressed with darkness." This has been called by John Gardner as Gilgamesh's "dark night of the soul" which is the title of a famous book by St. John of the Cross, a Christian mystic. The idea is that all of us will go through our own "dark night." This may be a difficult trial or circumstance that seems to us unbearable, but it is the "dark night" that ultimately teaches us something of great significance. In the Dark Night of the Soul St. John of the Cross writes, "Into this dark night souls begin to enter when God draws them forth from the state of beginners . . ." It's a maturing process. In Dante's famous The Divine Comedy, The Inferno or Hell begins with these lines,

Midway this way of life we're bound upon,
I woke to find myself in a dark wood,
Where the right road was wholly lost and gone.

You've probably heard of a "mid-life crisis." That's sort of modern or popular version of this idea. The crisis for Gilgamesh comes at the death of his friend and then he passes through the "12 leagues of darkness." The crisis of his friend's death makes him view life differently.

Notice what Shamash says to Gilgamesh, "You will never find the life for which you are searching." But Gilgamesh continues his quest anyway. On pages 100-101 he reviews his journey and it has been a difficult one. He continues to tell everyone of his sorrow and his fear of death. On page 102, the first paragraph, Siduri gives Gilgamesh some advice which she ends by saying ". . . cherish the little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace; for this too is the lot of man." What she tells Gilgamesh is that though you do not get to have eternal life there are still many good things that you do have as a human being. Enjoy them. Again we hear echoes of Ecclesiastes. Here are Eccl. 5:18 and 9:9

Here is what I have seen to be good and fitting: to eat, to drink and enjoy oneself in all one's labor in which he toils under the sun during the few years of his life which God has given him; for this is his reward.

Enjoy life with the woman whom you love all the days of your fleeting life which He has given you under the sun; for this is your reward in life . . .

Does Gilgamesh take this advice? He doesn't seem to. Joseph Campbell, the well-known writer on mythology, remarks that he continues on his quest not heeding the words of Siduri. Later on page 103 he says of Enkidu's death, "His fate lies heavy upon me." He finally makes it to Utnapishtim and says, ". . . how shall I find the life for which I am searching?" Utnapishtim's answer is simple: "There is no permanence." He goes on to explain this. Again, Gilgamesh seems to ignore it. What he wants to know is how Utnapishtim gained eternal life, and he tells the the story of the flood.

It is interesting to compare this story with the Biblical flood story. Like Noah, Utnapishtim is told of the coming flood and he builds a boat. It takes him seven days to build this huge boat. In Genesis God gives Noah 120 years. Utnapishtim, like Noah, takes many animals, but he takes not only his family but also the craftsmen who helped him build the boat. When the flood comes in the Epic even the gods are terrified by it and flee "to the highest heaven . . ." Like Noah, Utnapishtim sends out birds to see if the waters have receded enough for them to leave the boat. Ishtar is sorry for what she has done and Enlil is punished because he sent the flood "without reflection." In the Genesis story God promises never to do such a thing again. Enlil gives eternal life to Utnapishtim and his wife.

The next section is a little strange. Gilgamesh is asked to prevail against sleep for six days and seven nights—something he is not able to do. Was this a test to see if he truly wanted eternal life? It seems so, though Gilgamesh's comment after he realized he slept so long is that death has already got a hold on him (see page 115).

Before Gilgamesh leaves Utnapishtim tells him of a plant that will give him eternal life. When Gilgamesh finds the plant, what does he do? You would expect him to eat it and guarantee himself the life he has been searching for, but he does not and here's the reason he gives:

"I will take it to Uruk of the strong walls; there I will give it to the old men to eat."

John Gardner and John Maier think this passage is extremely important because it shows that Gilgamesh has matured, that finally his journey is beginning to affect his life. Instead of eating the plant himself he plans to take it back to his people and give it to them. It's an act of unselfishness; it's an act of love. Joseph Campbell writes that his going into the water to get the plant and then coming out represents his rebirth, much like baptism represents a rebirth for the Christian. Unfortunately, the serpent takes it from him, that is, takes eternal life from him and again this is similar to the Genesis story of Adam and Eve. It is the serpent that tempts Eve which ultimately results in Adam and Eve being expelled from the garden and not being able to eat of the Tree of Life.

Is this a tragic story? Some people think it is. Gilgamesh never gets the eternal life that he is searching for. This is true, however, we have indications that Gilgamesh became a better man. We see this in his selfless act of desiring to take the plant that grants eternal life back to his city. In the poem on page 118 it says of him, "He overcame evil . . ." and "He had wisdom . . ." It is also important to note that the people are sad about his death. Remember at the beginning of the book they were afraid of him and did not like him. If he had died at the beginning of the book they would have rejoiced, but they are saddened by it. The end of the book lamets his death. We can assume, then, that he was a good ruler after returning from his journey. Though he may not have gained eternal life, it's possible he accepted his future death and realized the importance of being a good man, a good husband, a good father, a good friend and a good ruler.

Regards,

Mr. Draeger

Sources:

Abbott, Edwin, Flatland, A Signet Classic, New American Library, New York, 1984.

Campbell, Joseph, The Masks of God: Creative Mythology, Arkana Books, published by the Penguin Group, Viking Penguin, a division of Penguin Books USA, inc., New York, 1991, pp. 13-14.

——-, The Masks of God: Occidental Mythology, Arkana Books, published by the Penguin Group, Viking Penguin, a division of Penguin Books USA, inc., New York, 1991, p. 91.

Dante(full name Dante Alighieri), The Divine Comedy: Hell, translated by Dorothy L. Sayers, Penguin Books, New York, 1980, pg. 71.

The Epic of Gilgamesh, Penguin Books, London, England, 1972.

Gilgamesh, translated by John Gardner and John Maier with the assistance of Richard A. Henshaw, Alfred P. Knoph, publishers, New York, 1984.

The Ryrie Study Bible, New American Standard Translation, Moody Press, Chicago, Ill., 1978.

St. John of the Cross, Dark Night of the Soul, tanslated by E. Allison Peers, Image Books, a division of Doubleday & Company, Inc., Garden City, New York, 1959, pg. 37.

Lem, Stanislaw, Eden, translated by Marc E. Heine, Harcourt Brace Jovanovish, Publishers, San Diego, CA, 1989.

——. A Stanislaw Lem Reader, edited by Peter Swirski, Northwestern University Press, Evanston, Illinois, 1997.

The Ryrie Study Bible, New American Standard Translation, Moody Press, Chicago, Ill., 1978.

Shattuck, Roger, Forbidden Knowledge: From Prometheus to Pornography, St. Martin’s Press, New York, N.Y., 1996.

 

©2005-2012 Glen Draeger (all rights reserved)
Millstone Education: World Literature / http://www.millstoneeducation.com/worldLit