Pre-dating the “Iliad,” the “Odyssey” and the five Books of Moses by more than a thousand years, the “Epic of Gilgamesh” is the oldest piece of literature ever uncovered. Its discovery in 1853 in the ruins of Nineveh, on the outskirts of modern-day Mosul, Iraq, was hailed as one of the greatest archaeological discoveries of all time. Yet, for all of the interest it has generated in scholarly circles in the past 150 years, most readers have often treated it as a curiosity, an ancient tale of a long-dead ruler from a distant land. Hardly the type of story that could appeal to modern sensibilities. Yet with his new “version,” author Stephen Mitchell attempts to do just that, crafting the typically alien translations into readable, accessible English language.
“Gilgamesh” tells the tale of a legendary king of Uruk, a dominant man who, corrupted by his power, becomes cruel and arrogant. He is so unbearable to his subjects that they appeal to the gods, who send down a wild man to tame this beast of a ruler. But it is the wild man, Enkidu, who is first tamed. His encounters with civilization and with women turn him from creature of the wilderness to man of the city.
But pleasures of the flesh cannot contain all the fire of Enkidu. When he meets Gilgamesh in Uruk, Enkidu challenges him to a wrestling match. Although Gilgamesh wins, the two become fast friends. Together they fight and travel the world, but with Enkidu’s death comes Gilgamesh’s confrontation with his own mortality.
In a quest to find the key to endless life, Gilgamesh uncovers truth and wisdom, finally resigning himself to the eventuality of death and returning to Uruk to live out his years as the just and noble ruler he should have always been.
While legends surely sprouted up shortly after the historical king’s death, the earliest written records that have survived date from about 2100 BCE. These five Sumerian poems form the backdrop of the later “Gilgamesh” text. The epic itself, however, developed around 1700 BCE and was written in Akkadian, a Semitic language related to Hebrew. This initial version is called the Old Babylonian version, to distinguish it from the version written by Sin-leqi-unninni around 500 years later. It is upon these two versions that all modern translations are based.
But Mitchell admits to not knowing either the Akkadian or Sumerian languages. Instead of translating the epic directly, Mitchell uses all available English translations to form the base of his new version. He uses his impressive knowledge of those translations to create a distinct, smooth-flowing version that reproduces the sometimes-alien feel of the original without alienating its audience.
Of course, scholars might object to the liberties Mitchell takes with the text. Where the original versions are incomplete, Mitchell has no problem filling in the gaps as he sees fit. Where neither Akkadian versions fully flesh out the story, he has borrowed from the earlier Sumerian poems. He admits to omitting the quirkier elements of Akkadian style: repetition of long passages and lengthy enumeration were seen as embellishments to ancient readers but most modern readers would find them tedious, at best.
At times, Mitchell adds to the epic, spinning lines when he feels the dramatic moment needs a little more push or changing images when he finds them to be too obscure. For the purists, all of his changes are fully documented in his footnotes. Most readers will never notice or, if they do, will be glad for changes.
All in all, Mitchell’s version presents a particularly readable and accessible version of the oldest tale known to man. It shows “Gilgamesh” in all its glory, revealing a king who surpasses all others in power, sorrow and, finally, wisdom. A tale for the ages and, if Mitchell will have his way, one that will not be lost on modern ears.
Grade: AB