Book Information
Gilgamesh: A New Rendering in English Verse
David Ferry
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York
Copyright 1992
ISBN: 978-0-374-52383-1
When we last left Gilgamesh and Enkidu in Tablet III of the Epic of Gilgamesh, they were headed out on a foolish adventure to kill Huwawa, the keeper of the Cedar Forest. In Tablets IV and V, we learn the outcome of their adventure. And, with the help of Northrop Frye’s theory of myths, we begin to understand the reason for the duo’s disappointing behavior. In ancient society, epic myths served an educational purpose – they were the primers on how not to behave. Rather than explicit instruction, however, in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the poet uses irony as the teaching tool. Despite several readings of the story, it was not until I read the Epic with Frye’s Anatomy of Criticism as a reference, that I understood this. Irony brings the hero’s unheroic behavior into strong relief and therefore helps to make the lessons more obvious.
During Gilgamesh’s and Enkidu’s long trek to the Cedar Forest, the poet continually tells us that Gilgamesh is ‘the strongest of all.’ Yet, ironically, Enkidu does all the work. He finds sources of water, he prepares their shelter and sleeping places, he interprets Gilgamesh’s endless dreams, and continually reassures the nervous king. He fulfills his duties as Gilgamesh’s steadfast companion; however, we begin to question his motives. When Gilgamesh has violent dreams that end with him being almost crushed, choked, or burnt, Enkidu interprets these as positive omens. We begin to see him as less Gilgamesh’s ideal companion and more his enabler. He tells Gilgamesh only what he wants to hear.
In one of the dreams, a bull wrestles Gilgamesh to the ground. He chokes on the dust raised in the havoc and is saved by someone who brings him water. Enkidu says that the bull is Shamash (the Sun God), that the wrestling is a blessing, and that it was Lugalbanda, Gilgamesh’s father, who brought the water. At various points in the poem, Enkidu has been associated with water. He visited the watering holes with the gazelles on the grasslands and he found the secret sources of water on the trek to the Cedar Forest. In the dream, Lugalbanda brings Gilgamesh water. In life, it is Enkidu who brings it, as if he is a replacement for Gilgamesh’s father. Unfortunately for Gilgamesh, he is an imperfect replacement because he gives Gilgamesh terrible advice.
During the long trek, Gilgamesh chickens out and wants to go back. Each time, Enkidu encourages him to continue, repeatedly saying: “Two people, companions, they can prevail together against the terror.” Near the end, as they face Huwawa, Enkidu becomes afraid and wants to stop. Then, it is Gilgamesh, using Enkidu’s own words, who encourages them to proceed on their path of destruction.
In the lead-up to the confrontation, Gilgamesh implies that it was Shamash who asked him to kill Huwawa. Earlier, his mother Ninsun implied the same. This goes against logic because the Cedar Forest was supposed to be the earthly dwelling of the gods. Why would Shamash want it destroyed? I believe this may be an error in David Ferry’s interpretation of the story. Rather than reading a word-for-word translation of the stone tablets, here we are reading a modern-day poet’s rendering in English verse. In the translations by both Andrew George and Stephanie Dalley, there is no direct suggestion that Shamash put Gilgamesh up to the foolish adventure. Instead, Shamash seems unenthusiastically resigned to the rash young king’s actions and tries to protect him. For example, he tells the duo to hurry because at one point, Huwawa is only wearing one of his seven protective auras. Moments before the battle, Shamash raises thirteen storms against Huwawa. The storms weaken him and enable Gilgamesh to attack.
Huwawa, recognizing his doom, offers Gilgamesh a reasonable settlement. He offers to cut down the Cedar Forest so that Gilgamesh may build a gate to the city, and he offers to be his servant. Enkidu intervenes and tells Gilgamesh to refuse and kill Huwawa instead. Huwawa tries to warn them - when Enlil, the Earth God and Huwawa’s boss, learns about what they have done, he will curse them. Again, Enkidu intervenes and gives Gilgamesh more terrible advice. He tells him to kill Huwawa before Enlil can find out, and then to use the cedar to build a monument to himself. Going against the rules of nature, Enkidu is now ‘civilized.’ Gilgamesh has not changed, but ironically Enkidu has - for the worse.
This sense of irony serves a purpose. Northrop Frye, in his theory of myths helps us understand what it is. Mythos is: “one of the four archetypal narratives, classified as comic, romantic, tragic, and ironic.” (Frye 367) Frye argues that all literature centers around a universal myth and that irony is one type of narrative within it. “Sparagmos, or the sense that heroism and effective action are absent, disorganized, or foredoomed to defeat, and that confusion and anarchy reign over the world, is the archetypal theme of irony and satire.” (Frye 192) In Gilgamesh, we clearly see a lack of effective action and, by the reactions of Uruk’s elders, we see their fear of the anarchy that could arise because of it. We would not have an educational story without Gilgamesh’s lack of heroism. As Frye says, “Irony does not need an exceptional central figure: as a rule, the dingier the hero the sharper the irony…” (Frye 210)
After killing Huwawa, Gilgamesh and Enkidu return to Uruk as heroes. Gilgamesh washes away the dirt and gore from his horrific exploit and anoints himself as if he were a bridegroom on his wedding day. He has removed the surface dirt. However, as we will see in his next exploit, he remains a dingy hero…
Bibliography
Frye, Northrop. Anatomy of Criticism: Four Essays. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 1957.
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