Gilgamesh, King of Uruk

Gilgamesh, depicted restraining a lion

For a blog that aims to focus on legends, the mysterious, and occult is there really a place more apt to start than the first legendary hero himself? Gilgamesh, a historical figure that story and song have carried to deification, was a Sumerian ruler whose larger than life existence could only reasonably be carried forward through supernatural exploits and a legendary quest. While mankind has always looked to the heavens for the answers to mysteries beyond their comprehension, Gilgamesh began as a man and became more than that through stories told long after his passing. The deeds of gods became the deeds of man, and perhaps those very stories ignited the kindling of humanity's search for inner divinity.

The Facts

Gilgamesh existed, this much of the story is certain. The mortal Gilgamesh ruled over the Sumerian city-state of Uruk, which rested east of the Euphrates River, sometime between 2800-2500 BC. Exactly what deeds Gilgamesh achieved throughout his life that prompted rulers after him to claim relation and friendship is uncertain, but what is known is that he is credited with building the walls of the city of Uruk and that, upon his death, the Euphrates was diverted for the sole purpose of his burial. But, those are the facts, the boring stuff. We want to know the deity born of the man. These legends are told in humanity’s oldest remaining great literary work.

The Legend, The Stories, The Epic of Gilgamesh

Gilgamesh(Right) and Enkidu(Left)

   The Epic of Gilgamesh paints Gilgamesh as a cruel king, so bad that the gods themselves deem to interfere and create a mighty creature, Enkidu, for the sole purpose of besting the son of the goddess Ninsun. Enkidu is a creature of such animalistic power and disposition that it takes weeks of ‘taming’ by a temple prostitute just to allow him within society. Enkidu, made for the express purpose of beating Gilgamesh intercepts him and the two fight. Thus Gilgamesh’s first mighty feat: The king readily beats the divinely created Enkidu, and the two become boon companions.

   These two mighty figures proceed to perform yet more legendary deeds, all to grow Gilgamesh’s fame and renown. They travel to the Cedar Forest, divine realm of the Sumerian gods, to kill the legendary, lion-faced giant, Humbaba. Gilgamesh and his companion defeat the giant, refuse his pleas for mercy, and kill not only Humbaba but his seven children. They chop trees from the Cedar Forest and fashion boats to return to Uruk with their prize of Humbaba’s head. Along this journey, Gilgamesh rebukes the advances of a goddess, the result of which is divine retribution in the form of The Bull of Heaven, which, as divine retributions tend to do, begins laying waste to Gilgamesh’s home of Uruk.

   As legendary figures tend to do, Gilgamesh and his trusted companion Enkidu make fast work of The Divine Bull and the city celebrates, praising Gilgamesh for his two-fold achievements. Now, having crossed the gods a number of times that seem to almost cross the “too many” line, Gilgamesh ha officially earned the ire of those above. As I said though, these transgressions do not seem to cross that “too many” line, and the gods decide that fitting punishment would be to kill Enkidu, and, after days of suffering sickness, the man that Ninsun had adopted as Gilgamesh’s brother dies.

   The death of Enkidu sends Gilgamesh on his greatest journey. Fearing for his own end, Gilgamesh sets out to search for eternal life, traveling where no man had before and comes upon Utnapishtim and his wife, sole survivors of The Great Flood (More on the prominence of Flood Myths in another post!). Utnapishtim tests Gilgamesh to see if he can “conquer sleep” before conquering death, challenging the king to stay awake for a straight week. When Gilgamesh fails Utnapishtim assures him that immortality is not to be lightly gained, convincing the Sumerian king of the futility of his quest. Utnapishtim tells Gilgamesh of a plant that can restore his youth, however. Gilgamesh promptly loses the plant while bathing. The great Epic ends, thus making the oldest existing literary work the oldest existing example of an underwhelming conclusion. 

Hey, I guess writers of great Epics run out of steam eventually too: A strange decline in intensity, if you ask me. Anyway, would love to hear any and all thoughts on Gilgamesh, his stories, and any suggestions for future posts.