The Epic of Gilgamesh

Gilgamesh ruled the great city of Uruk, a king whose beauty and strength had no equal. He was two-thirds divine, born of the goddess Ninsun and the mortal king Lugalbanda. But his power had made him a tyrant. He exhausted his people with endless building projects and claimed the right to sleep with every bride on her wedding night.

The people of Uruk cried out to the gods for relief, and the gods heard them. The mother goddess Aruru fashioned a man from clay, wild as the beasts of the field, to be Gilgamesh's equal. This was Enkidu, who ran with the gazelles and knew nothing of civilization.

He who saw the Deep, the foundation of the land, who knew the seas, was wise in all matters. Gilgamesh, who saw the Deep, the foundation of the land, who knew the seas, was wise in all matters.

A hunter discovered Enkidu at the watering holes and was terrified by his wild strength. He brought Shamhat, a temple priestess of Ishtar, to tame the wild man. For seven days and nights, Shamhat lay with Enkidu, and when they were done, the animals no longer recognized him as one of their own. He had become human.

Shamhat led Enkidu to Uruk, where he learned of Gilgamesh's cruelty. When Gilgamesh came to claim a bride, Enkidu blocked his path. They fought in the streets like bulls, shaking the walls, until neither could prevail. In that moment of equal strength, they recognized in each other the friend their souls had been seeking. They embraced, and their friendship became legendary.

Gilgamesh proposed a great adventure to make their names immortal: they would travel to the Cedar Forest and slay its guardian Humbaba, a monster appointed by the gods. Enkidu knew Humbaba's terror and tried to dissuade his friend, but Gilgamesh would not be deterred.

They journeyed far, crossing seven mountains, until they reached the forest. Humbaba's roar was the flood, his mouth was fire, his breath was death. Yet with the help of Shamash the sun god, who sent the thirteen winds against the monster, Gilgamesh and Enkidu overcame him. Humbaba begged for mercy, but at Enkidu's urging, Gilgamesh cut off his head.

They felled the great cedars and built a raft to float the logs down the Euphrates. Gilgamesh washed his long hair and dressed in his finest robes. The goddess Ishtar saw him and desired him, offering him her love and the kingship of the world.

Gilgamesh rejected Ishtar, reminding her of the terrible fates of her previous lovers: Tammuz whom she condemned to the underworld, the shepherd whom she turned into a wolf, the gardener whom she transformed into a spider. Ishtar, enraged, demanded her father Anu release the Bull of Heaven to destroy Gilgamesh.

The Bull descended to Uruk, and with each snort of its nostrils, pits opened in the earth, swallowing hundreds of men. But Gilgamesh and Enkidu worked together: Enkidu seized its tail while Gilgamesh drove his sword between its horns. They tore out its heart and offered it to Shamash.

Ishtar stood on the walls of Uruk, cursing Gilgamesh. Enkidu tore off the Bull's haunch and threw it in her face, declaring that if he could catch her, he would do the same to her.

The gods held council. For killing Humbaba and the Bull of Heaven, one of the heroes must die. They chose Enkidu. He fell ill, and over twelve days he withered and died, dreaming of the grim underworld where all mortals go.

For six days and seven nights Gilgamesh wept for Enkidu, until a worm fell out of his nose. Then Gilgamesh was afraid, and he said, "Now I fear death. I will seek the one who found eternal life."

Gilgamesh covered Enkidu's face and would not leave his body until a maggot fell from its nose. Only then did he understand that his friend was truly gone. And in that moment, the reality of death struck him. If mighty Enkidu could die, so could he.

Gilgamesh set out to find Utnapishtim, the only mortal to whom the gods had granted eternal life. He traveled to the ends of the earth, to Mount Mashu where the sun rises and sets. There, scorpion-people guarded the gate through the mountains. They warned him that no mortal had ever passed through the tunnel of darkness, but Gilgamesh walked for twelve leagues in absolute darkness until he emerged in a garden of jeweled trees at the edge of the world.

There he met Siduri, the tavern-keeper of the gods, who tried to dissuade him. "The life that you seek you will never find," she said. "When the gods created mankind, they kept death for themselves. Enjoy your life, fill your belly, let your wife delight in your embrace. This is the lot of mankind."

But Gilgamesh would not turn back. He crossed the Waters of Death with the ferryman Urshanabi and came at last to Utnapishtim, the Faraway, survivor of the Great Flood.

Utnapishtim told Gilgamesh how he had gained immortality. Long ago, the gods decided to destroy humanity with a flood. But Ea, lord of wisdom, warned Utnapishtim in a dream, speaking through the reed wall of his house. Utnapishtim built a great boat, sealed it with pitch, and loaded upon it the seed of all living things.

The flood came, and even the gods cowered in fear at what they had unleashed. For seven days the waters raged. When they receded, Utnapishtim's boat came to rest on Mount Nisir. He released a dove, then a swallow, then a raven. When the raven did not return, he knew the waters had subsided.

The gods, smelling his sacrifice, gathered like flies around the offering. They granted him and his wife immortality, setting them apart at the edge of the world. But this gift had been given only once and would not be given again.

Utnapishtim challenged Gilgamesh to defeat sleep for six days and seven nights. Gilgamesh failed immediately, falling asleep the moment he sat down. Utnapishtim's wife baked a loaf of bread each day, proving how long he had slept.

As Gilgamesh departed in despair, Utnapishtim's wife persuaded her husband to give him something. Utnapishtim revealed a secret: a plant at the bottom of the sea that could restore youth. Gilgamesh tied stones to his feet, dove into the deep, found the plant, and began his journey home.

But on the way, while Gilgamesh bathed in a cool pool, a serpent smelled the plant's sweet fragrance and stole it, sloughing its skin as it departed. Gilgamesh sat down and wept. He had held immortality in his hands and lost it.

Gilgamesh returned to Uruk with the ferryman Urshanabi. As they approached, he pointed out the great walls he had built, the temples he had raised, the orchards and gardens. He understood at last that this was his immortality: not endless life, but the enduring works of civilization. The walls of Uruk would stand when his bones were dust. The story of his adventures would be told when his name was forgotten.

Go up on the wall of Uruk and walk about. Examine the brickwork, examine the foundation. Is not the core of burnt brick, and did not the Seven Sages lay the foundations? One square mile is the city, one square mile the gardens, one square mile the claypits, and half a square mile is the temple of Ishtar. Three and a half square miles is Uruk's expanse.

He had sought immortality and found it, though not as he expected. The epic that bears his name, inscribed on clay tablets over four thousand years ago, remains humanity's oldest great story.