The Babylonian Conception of Heaven and Hell/The Journey of Gilgamesh to the Island of the Blessed
The Journey of Gilgamesh to the Island of the Blessed.
The Twelve Tablet epic has also come down to us in fragments only. We know, however, that the hero of the story had, along with his gigantic friend, incurred the wrath and vengeance of the mighty goddess Istar. Eabani had died an ignominious death and gone down to Hades. Gilgamesh was smitten by terrible sickness, but was resolved not to die like his friend. Seized by the fear of death he fell wailing to the ground, but suddenly he conceived the bold resolve to hasten with all speed to his great ancestor, who had once dwelt in Suripak, but who had attained "the longed-for life in the assembly of the gods." Of him will he seek healing, find out the secret of immortality and also prepare the way for the deliverance of his friend Eabani. For this ancestor, as Gilgamesh tells us later, has the power to interpret life and death. The skin-clad wanderer travels far through awful ravines, and after manifold dangers from which the moon-god protects him, at length he reaches Mount Mashu. The entrance to the mountain is guarded by scorpion men of giant stature, whose wild appearance inspires him with such fear and horror that he loses consciousness. One of the monsters tries to dissuade him from the terrible journey, telling him that he must travel twelve miles through impenetrable darkness. At length, in response to his importunity, he opens the mountain door, and, after four-and-twenty hours of wandering, Gilgamesh stepped out into an enchanted garden, in which especially one divine tree so delighted him that he rushed up to it: "Precious stones it bears as fruit—the branches were hung with them, lapis lazuli it bears, fruits it bears, choice (?) to look upon." A divine mermaid, dwelling in a palace by the shore, put fresh difficulties before him. With threats and entreaties he sought to move her to show him the way to his progenitor and to give him a boat in which to cross the water. The mermaid warned him that never had ferry been there and that the Sun god only could cross the sea, for the waters of death are as a bolt shot to, barring all entrance to the Island of the Blessed. At length she betrayed to him where he might find the man who had ferried his ancestor across. Him Gilgamesh succeeded in persuading to his will, and after a terrible journey, minutely prepared for in advance, they reached the Waters of Death, having covered a distance of forty-five days' travel in three days. After exhausting work at the oars had brought them across these waters also, they approached the shores of the Fields of the Blessed. From the boat Gilgamesh complained to his ancestor of his woe, related his heroic adventures, bewailed the death of his friend and told how he had toiled over lands and mountains and had traversed all the seas without being able to cheer his countenance by any happy sight. After a long conversation discussing the inevitable and invincible mortal fate of man, Gilgamesh comes to his point and asks his ancestor how he had attained to his own happy lot. Then this favourite of the gods—no other than the Babylonian Noah—tells Gilgamesh, as he listens from his boat, the story of the Flood, which, as is well known, coincides in parts almost verbally with the biblical narrative of the Deluge, but concludes with the removal of the rescued couple to a distant land, at the mouth of the rivers, where they live as the gods. After this tale Sit-napishtim (i.e., "Germ of Life") promises Gilgamesh "the life that he strives after." He cast him into a sleep, with the help of his wife prepared for him enchanted food and treated him by seven magic processes. Then he caused his ferryman to take him to the enchanted fountain, where his boils were washed pure as snow, the sea carried away his leprous skin, and his whole body once more appeared sound and healthy. Before he returned there was revealed to him yet another particular secret, namely, that a magic plant grew on the island, the twigs of which gave secret power to men: whoever ate of it regained the strength of his youth. Gilgamesh got possession of the magic plant and in his joy named it shebu-issakhir-amelu, i.e., "even when old a man becomes young again." Then Gilgamesh went back (by another route?) accompanied by the ferryman. Every twenty miles they chanted a dirge, every thirty miles they held a feast in honour of the dead. Whilst Gilgamesh was drawing water (for purposes of libation?) from a spring the magic plant slipped from his grasp and a serpent known as the "earth lion" seized it from him. In his terror at first he uttered a curse, then he sat down and wept, tears flowed over his cheeks. He said to his companion: "To what end has my strength been renewed, to what end does my soul rejoice in its restoration? No benefit have I done to myself, to the earth lion is the benefit fallen." With dirges they wandered on till they came to the city of Erekh.
For the present cuneiform literature unfortunately tells us no more about this Island of the Blessed which so vividly calls to mind the Greek garden of the gods, Elysium, that Paradise in the western ocean where rose the springs of nectar and ambrosia. Neither do we hear of any other inhabitants of it, though it can hardly be supposed that the couple rescued from the Flood and their ferryman dwelt there entirely alone. It is, indeed, expressly stated that they lived "in the assembly of the gods." Thither fancy transferred other heroes of the people. Olympus was merged with Elysium by the Babylonians as later by the Greeks. Tiglath Pilesar expresses a hope that the great gods "have called the race of his priesthood to a dwelling-place on the mount of the gods for ever." According to the Gilgamesh epic he "who had fallen in battle with men" can claim a privileged lot after death. We are re- minded of Walhalla when, at the close of the same epic, we read of the fate of the fallen as
follows: drinking pure water,
he who was slain in battle;
his father and his mother hold his head,
and his wife [kneeleth] by his side (?)."
It is, perhaps, in a similar connection that we must interpret the close of a hymn, which runs:
Ninzadim, the great jeweller of Anu,
has to the care of his pure hands taken thee;
Ea hath taken thee hence to the place of cleansing,
to the place of cleansing hath he taken thee
to (?) milk and honey he took thee,
water of exorcism placed he in thy mouth,
thy mouth he openeth by means of exorcism :
"Be clear as the heaven, be pure as the earth shine
like the innermost part of heaven"