When I am in doubt, fear or despair (a rather common occurrence these days) I find myself returning over and over to the words of a story/poem written 4,000 years ago which reminds me of the truly important things in life:
No, no, no, not that shit. Here, let’s start at the beginning.
The poem I’m talking about was written from an elite, male perspective; that of a great warrior king. Like many ancient poems it features battles against supernatural monsters, deals with the capricious and jealous Gods, and has a central character who is almost superhuman in strength and prowess …yet that same character, our great warrior king, is humbled.
Gilgamesh is our warrior king.
So, now you are wondering what the hell the opening photo of this diary has to do with a barbarian warrior king who likely achieved his rulership and fame through brute force, but bear with me, this is worth telling.
The heart of the first section of the story of Gilgamesh is the tale of his great friendship with Enkidu, another hero figure. Enkidu, a wild man, was sent by the Gods to teach Gilgamesh to stop being an oppressive asshole to the people of Uruk, over whom Gilgamesh is king. Enkidu does this by preventing Gilgamesh claiming “first night” rights with new brides and they fight over this. As is often observed on playgrounds, once the fighting is over, the boys, in this case the King and the wild man, Enkidu, become fast friends.
With Enkidu’s aid Gilgamesh defeats the monster Humbaba and stops the ravages of the Bull of Heaven. But this last is a bridge too far for the Gods, who strike Enkidu with an illness. After twelve days of sickness, Enkidu dies.
I think almost all humans who have faced the death of a loved one can relate to Gilgamesh’s feelings of grief and loss. Gilgamesh, the great king, is not used being denied what he wants and he struggles to accept that his friend is truly dead and when he finally does accept this he sinks into a despairing mourning. He calls upon all things, mountains, forests, fields, animals to share his sorrow. Enkidu is supplied with riches from the treasury to insure he will be welcomed in the afterlife.
And then the fear of his own death sets in for Gilgamesh.
Gilgamesh goes on a quest to claim immortality from the Gods. After facing many trials and adventures he winds up at an Inn for the Gods where he meets a supernatural woman, Siduri, who is, in effect, bartender to the Gods.
Like bartenders everywhere are wont to do, she gives him good advice:
“Gilgamesh, where are you roaming? You will never find the eternal life that you seek. When the Gods created mankind, they also created death. They held back eternal life for themselves alone.
“Humans are born, they live and then they die. This is the order 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, give your wife pleasure in your embrace. That is the best way for a man to live.”
Predictably, Gilgamesh ignores this advice and continues on his quest - but ultimately Gilgamesh fails in all of his endeavors to achieve immortality.
Scholars have made light of this section of the poem, dismissing it as “fairly conventional advice” and “attempts to dissuade [Gilgamesh] from his quest.”
In my opinion these scholars miss the whole point of the story.
Keep in mind Gilgamesh is a Warrior King!
Gilgamesh is likely the wealthiest, most powerful man of his time! He has caused temples and cities to be built, conquered great foes, doubtless men live and die on his command. Armies will march where he directs!
Think for a second how easy, how expected it would be for the advice to say: Hey, you want immortality? Lay waste to the cities and lands around you, make them kneel at your feet, cause them to erect statues of you, make them record your deeds and your legend will never die!
And yet Siduri’s advice ignores this vast wealth and power entirely!
Siduri does not call for a sumptuous banquet to feast on each and every day, something well within Gilgamesh’s capability. Siduri simply tells our hero to enjoy the food he has. She does not say: have expensive, fancy clothing made for you — again something a king could order with ease. Instead she says: wear clean clothing and take care of yourself!
Finally and most significantly, Siduri instructs Gilgamesh to do the work of giving of his heart to others — to ensure they receive from him love and pleasure! Four thousand years ago people knew full well that the great joys in life come not from taking from others but in fact in giving to those around us.
Nor does she say love YOUR child - she says love THE child who holds you by the hand! Think of the migrant children in captivity now - what adult capable of empathy would not offer those children a loving hand?
And finally, Siduri turns to women. I read ancient literature and let me tell you, just because a woman is speaking about women is no guarantee of any humanity. I have read where women trade/sell/dispose of the bodies, lives and children of other women with a casual callousness that makes me set down the book and take a break to recover my modern emotions.
But here there is no reason to cringe. The is no advice to beat your wife into submission or abandon her for a younger woman, or a woman with better family connections. In less than a sentence, Siduri says all that needs to be said on the topic: ensure your partner finds pleasure in being with you!
Think about that! Virtually any human can make this advice a part of their life.
One great weakness of humans is to miss the delights and joys right before us! I also recall the words of anarchist Emma Goldman after being scolded for her lack of seriousness: “If I can’t dance it’s not my revolution!”
Gilgamesh did attain a sort of immortality in statues and text to his memory, but not really for his heroic feats. The culmination of the story is his failure to achieve godhood and his return to mortal life. The key crisis of the story is his grief over the loss of his friend, not his battles with monstrous creatures.
And for me, at least, this four thousand year old advice from a alewife captures the essence of life itself even in the age of the smart phone, virtual reality and Trump.