At this very late hour as I begin reviewing documentation to possibly support my Jungian psychological analysis of Gilgamesh, I have again experienced the power of synchronicity. The epic itself immediately moved me into almost uncontrollable analyzation and mythological comparison but until this moment I was going on instinct and intuition alone. In what I thought would be a desperate attempt at locating reference books, I picked up as many authored by Jung and Campbell that I could find. One of two Jung books I happened upon was the Psychology of Religion. Although I initially felt that this source would provide little help in my quest, I joyfully exclaim that I was very mistaken. On the seventeenth page, I have discovered Jung directly referencing Gilgamesh himself and here begins another wonderful adventure. Even though I may not find further direct correlations from great minds such as Dr. Jung, I now have gained greater confidence in my own revelations. I hope to provide a unique, psychological perspective on a timeless story that is alive with mythological and religious splendor in their truest sense.
While searching for clues to piece together what seems a huge puzzle, I consulted two translations of Gilgamesh given by David Ferry and Maureen Gallery Kovacs. It seemed that the more sources I sought, the greater the amount of differing opinions and convoluted versions I uncovered. In an effort to remain true to the epic itself, I will mainly be referring to our textbook, World Mythology, written by Donna Rosenberg with a few inclusions from Kovacs' translations. Although Rosenberg's version lacks the flair of the latter stated, it provides a simple doorway opening to a complicated yet profound tale of the first great epic that brings time, mortality, and the anguish of humanity into a world of personal destiny basically related to our own (Campbell, OM, p. 87-90). The essay is written with the understanding that the reader has prior knowledge of the main subject matter, Dr. Carl Jung's theories of the unconscious, and Joseph Campbell's idea that myths are synchronistically reproduced across time.
Archaeologists and historians feel confident that Gilgamesh was originally written by the Sumerians and later adapted by the Babylonians who kept the identities of Sumer's original gods and goddesses. According to Maureen Gallery Kovacs, the epic was composed in the dialect of the Akkadian language and contains 2,900 lines written on eleven clay tablets (Kovacs, xvii). The tablets were uncovered mainly in the palace and temple libraries of Ninevah in Assyria around the seventh century before Christ (Kovacs, xvii). Although there is no tangible evidence, according to Kovacs, it is assumed that the stories and deeds of Gilgamesh were recorded in his own time around 2500 BC (Kovacs, xxii). It seems that even though Gilgamesh's adventures may have been embellishments, he was indeed a living man who ruled the city of Uruk at the end of the early Sumerian second Dynastic period after the great Mesopotamian flood when kings became deified (Kovacs, xxvii, Woolley, p. 22).
Gilgamesh was said to have been two-thirds god and one part man and this self-description may have originated from the above mentioned Sumerian desire to deify their kings. Carl Jung seems to describe this as when "the gods first lived in superhuman power and beauty on top of snow-clad mountains or in the darkness of caves, woods, and seas. Later on they drew together into one god, and then god became man" (Jung, p. 102). Gilgamesh's heroic journey has been exalted because it is more than just a great adventure story, it is also an incredible intellectual pursuit (Rosenberg, p. 173). Not only must he have great courage and determination to defeat the obstacles before him, Gilgamesh must also possess undeterred patience, internal fortitude, and willful self-examination (Rosenberg, p. 173). "For at another level, one is to understand that Gilgamesh's self-knowledge...is what really remains...The final lines consciously hark back to...a paen in praise of Gilgamesh's wisdom and understanding of life (Kovacs, xxi). His name is said to have derived from "Bilgamesh" meaning "The Old One Who is Youthful" which seems to corroborate the above statement (Kovacs, xxvii).
Gilgamesh is a classic mythological tale in the sense that it provides Joseph Campbell's fourth most critical function of myth: a fostering of the centering and unfolding of the "individual in integrity, in accordance with d) himself (the microcosm), c) his culture (the mesocosm), b) the universe (the macrocosm), and a) that awesome ultimate mystery beyond and within himself and all things (Campbell, CM, p. 6). From Campbell's theories of creative mythologies as those which "springs not, like theology, from the dicta of authority, but from insights, sentiments, thought, and vision of an adequate individual, loyal to his own experience and value" comes my own perspective that Gilgamesh's epic may also be seen as a religious quest (Campbell, CM, pps. 6-7). Originally my theory was based upon intuition but Dr. Jung's essay, Psychology and Religion, provides valuable insights and possible corroborations. Because Gilgamesh was moved to record his feelings for his entire kingdom and future generations, perhaps his experiences link to Jung's definition of the roots of religion: a careful consideration and observation of certain dynamic factors, understood to be "powers", spirits, demons, gods, laws, ideas, ideals or whatever name man has found in his world powerful enough, dangerous, or helpful enough to be taken into consideration, or grand, beautiful, and meaningful enough to be devoutly adored and loved" (Jung, p. 5). Furthermore, Gilgamesh may very well be Jung's religious "man who takes into account and carefully observes certain factors which influence him and through him, his general condition" (Jung, p. 7). In this religious comparison also exists Jung's theory that "numinostic experience" takes one into the deepest parts of the subconscious, and here begins a direct analysis of the epic itself.
The first portion of the story explains that Gilgamesh as a young king "was as willful and fearsome as a wild bull" and the fact that "his behavior disturbed his companions" did not restrain him (Rosenberg, p. 175). Rather than going to him directly, the nobles plead to the gods to teach Gilgamesh about his own weaknesses. "In this precarious situation it would be bad strategy to convince the (patient) that he is somehow, though in a highly incomprehensible way, at the back of his own symptom, secretly inventing and supporting it. Such a suggestion would instantly paralyze his fighting spirit, and he would get demoralized. It is much better if he understands that his complex is an autonomous power directed against his conscious personality" (Jung, p. 17). To accomplish the preceding, the Sumerian gods "invent and create a man equal in strength to Gilgamesh in order to check his unlawful ambitions" (Jung, pp. 17-18). "Gilgamesh, however, escapes the revenge of the gods. He had warning dreams to which he paid attention. They showed him how he could overcome his foe": his nagging unconscious (Jung, pp. 18-19).
Enkidu seems to be Gilgamesh's unconscious personified as explained in the need for his existence: "let him be equal to his (Gilgamesh's) stormy heart, let them be a match for each other so Uruk may find peace" (Kovacs, p. 5). Uruk may be the personification of Gilgamesh's entire soul incarnate because the dire plea by the kingdom for his inner-peace affects the macrocosm, mecrocosm, and microcosm Campbell previously described. To stabilize Gilgamesh and thereby Uruk, the Mother Goddess creates valiant Enkidu "in the wilderness, born of silence. He ate grasses with gazelles and jostled at the watering hole with animals, as with animals, his thirst was stated with mere water" (Kovacs, p. 6). Having studied Jung's analysis of the unconscious, Enkidu seems to be the missing shadow side of Gilgamesh whose absence causes his unbridled ego-related arrogance. Jung refers to the shadow side as "merely somewhat inferior, primitive, unadapted, and awkward but not wholly bad. It even contains inferior, childish, or primitive qualities which would in a way vitalize and embellish human existence" (Jung, pp. 94-94). Jung refers to Gilgamesh's chosen ignorance of this part of himself as a person's "clever device (was) formed by the unconscious mind to keep him on a merciless and cruel leash" and that "such an obsession can only occur in a person who makes a habitual misuse of reason and intellect for an egotistical power purpose" (Jung, p 18).
To help save Gilgamesh's soul Enkidu comes into being and must be civilized in order to meet him on an understandable level. A harlot is chosen to perform the task of seducing Enkidu who is "as strong as the meteorite of Anu, like Gilgamesh" yet the hunter/trapper who initially sees him is afraid, so he cannot even approach Enkidu (Kovacs, p. 9). This brings us to a short aside about the religious attitudes of the Babylonians who seem to have embellished this portion of the epic. The Babylonians wanted to supplant the current Mother Goddess worship with a patriarchal god as seen in the myth of Tiamat and Marduk. However, they could not dismiss the power of women as proven by the ability of the harlot to "take his energy" (Kovacs, p. 9). One could go even further to wonder if the Babylonians, like the Christians, did not in a sense blame the harlot for taking Enkidu away from the earth and animals. Regardless, like the Greek virgin priestesses, she was able to turn his animal nature to compassion and therefore "civilize" Enkidu.
At the time Gilgamesh and Enkidu meet, Enkidu is no longer the personification of Gilgamesh's unconscious; instead, he is the unconscious overcome by the conscious ego in a manner palpable to Gilgamesh. When they encounter one another a battle ensues but Enkidu quickly subsides as if he realizes the Gnostic's belief, "agree with thyself quickly, whilst thou art in the way of thyself" (Jung, p. 94). However, this state of affairs produces results that do not help either of the men as "the educated man tries to repress the inferior one in himself without realizing that by this he forces the latter to become revolutionary" (Jung, p. 95). Enkidu tells Gilgamesh, "I am crying for my lost strength. When I lived among the animals upon the grassy plain (unconscious), I was swift and strong. Here in the strong-walled city of Uruk (ego-conscious), my arms hang useless by my side. Inactivity has turned me into a weakling" (Rosenberg, p. 180)!
In order to help his friend, Gilgamesh suggests they go into the Cedar Forest (another form of the unconscious) and defeat the evil Humbaba (fear of the unknown). Jung describes taboos such as the Cedar Forest as psychical areas meticulously and fearfully observed proven by Enkidu's uncharacteristic timidity (Jung, p. 20). Jung described a patient with the same problem as Enkidu: "he will be reluctant or even afraid to admit certain things to himself, as if it were dangerous to become conscious of himself. One is usually afraid of things which seem to be overpowering but is there anything in man that is stronger than himself" (Jung, p. 8)? Apparently not because Gilgamesh succeeds in convincing Enkidu to accompany him on this adventure.
As the men leave for the Cedar Forest, Gilgamesh asks his god, "Guard my soul. Protect me and bring me back safely to Uruk. I am taking a road I have never travelled. I want to walk with joy in my heart" (Rosenberg, p. 182). The gods tell Gilgamesh not to put too much faith in his own strength and to permit Enkidu to travel the road in front of him because he knows the way (Rosenberg, p. 183). It seems that this statement again points to the conscious being lead by the archetypal unconscious in order to find the center of the soul and peace. As if from an outer guiding force, Gilgamesh has dreams which proclaim his ability to destroy the evil Humbaba. Jung describes dreams as having the ability to provide us all with necessary information because "we have reason to believe that (they) mirror exactly the underground process of the psyche. And, if we get them, we literally get at the roots of the disease (Jung, p. 26). And it is so as Enkidu helps Gilgamesh understand his dreams and ultimately slay Humbaba.
Upon returning to Uruk, Gilgamesh receives a proposition for marriage from Ishtar and blatantly refuses. Again, one sees signs of the patriarchal gods in conflict with the old matriarchal ones. Gilgamesh explains that Ishtar wantonly destroys her male consorts which references the Mother Goddess cults who used to sacrifice vegetation kings in honor of the harvest and changing of the seasons. In retaliation, Ishtar gets permission to unleash the "Bull of Heaven" who Gilgamesh and Enkidu ultimately defeat. However, Ishtar will not be upstaged as she demands payment for the bull in the form of Enkidu. At this crucial moment, Gilgamesh is faced with his own mortality and takes the final plunge into his unconscious in order to deal with his pain. Here, Gilgamesh seems to become Enkidu as he "wrapped his body in their (animals) warm skins" and "ate some of their flesh" (Rosenberg, p. 191).
Gilgamesh sets upon a journey to find the secret to eternal life and learns the most valuable lessons of all. Within his adventure lie archetypal mythical themes that have been retold for centuries. In order to reach Utanapishtim who holds the truth Gilgamesh seeks, he must "travel through a tunnel deep within the mountains (unconscious). The tunnel extends for thirty-six miles in darkness black as pitch" (Rosenberg, p 192). Undaunted by this task, Gilgamesh proclaims, "I intend to take that path...Neither pain, nor sorrow, nor tears, nor extreme cold, nor scalding heat will stop me! Open the gate of the mountain so I can continue my journey" (Rosenberg, p. 192)! Here one can see that Gilgamesh is on the road to psychical recovery because he no longer fears his unconscious but instead willingly descends. Gilgamesh's courage ultimately leads him to a paradisal place where "for a short while, he forgot his grief and his pain, his fatigue and his fear. He was certain that he had entered the garden of the heavenly gods" (Rosenberg, p. 193). As Gilgamesh comes upon the heavenly, radiant Shamash he faces his unfolding inner-awareness for the first time.
Next, Gilgamesh successfully crosses the Waters of Death and meets Utanapishtim who relates the flood story responsible for his own immortality. The epitomal wise man takes the role of the mythological trickster of enlightenment as he playfully shows Gilgamesh that he does not truly house the power of the gods. Utanapishtim then instructs Gilgamesh, "as if extraordinary might and heroism were not sufficient gifts, the power to be supreme among human beings they have granted you. The power to rule your people as king and to be the greatest of leaders they have granted you...cast away fear and sorrow. Rejoice in your heart that the heavenly gods love you and have smiled upon you" (Rosenberg, p. 201)! Utanapishtim, however, does not allow Gilgamesh to leave empty handed as he gives him the location of the plant of eternal youth. In order to get the plant, Gilgamesh must dive into what Campbell refers to as the abyssal waters of the cosmic ocean to emerge as though reborn (Campbell, CM, pp. 13-14). Furthermore, Jung describes this descent as a sort of baptism containing a creative and transforming quality (Jung, p. 110). Successfully completely this task and thinking he has finally achieved what was sought, the journey back across the waters to Uruk heaves Gilgamesh his most illuminating blow.
Gilgamesh leaves the plant of eternal youth resting on a water bank when the archetypal serpent, attracted by its smell, "glided out of the water, slithered up the bank, took hold of the plant with its mouth, and carried it back into the water. As it returned to the water it shed its skin, emerging younger and fresher looking" (Rosenberg, p. 202). According to Campbell, the plant enabled the serpent's new youth to place it as "lord of the waters" who is "the master of the mystery of rebirth" and "in the words of the God of Eden to Adam after the fall, so here, man is dust and onto dust he shall return" (Campbell, OM, p. 9, CM, p. 14). Rosenberg explains that after composing himself, Gilgamesh resigns himself to this loss and continues his way home. Now, having reconciled his unconscious and conscious after deep pain, Gilgamesh gains a relishment of the present and his new awareness. As he enters Uruk's gates and sees the walls which are his crowning achievement, he proudly exclaims, "Gaze upon one man's supreme achievement" (Rosenberg, p. 203)! The walls of Uruk appear to symbolize Gilgamesh's soul and its encompassing wholeness as a result of the necessary, humbling journey into his psyche and ultimate realization of his own mortality.
Carl Jung has said that "self-criticism, as an introspective, discriminating activity is indispensable to any attempt to understand one's own psyche" and I believe the Gilgamesh epic proves his point (Jung, p. 61). In achieving personal totality it seems that Gilgamesh embarked upon a religious quest in Jung's universal sense: "they came to themselves, they would accept themselves, they were able to be reconciled to themselves and by this they were also reconciled to adverse circumstances and events" (Jung, p. 99). Furthermore, "no matter what the world thinks about religious experience, the one who has it possesses the greatest treasure of a thing that has provided him with a source of life, meaning, and beauty and that has given a new splendor to the world and humankind" (Jung, p. 113). By working to understand himself, Gilgamesh "succeeded in removing an infinitesimal part at least of the unsolved gigantic, social problems of our day" and perhaps this is why his story is so timelessly appealing. Analyzed on an archetypal basis, the Gilgamesh epic provides incredible insight into the universal, collective mind that is in such need of healing in our present day. Perhaps if we could indeed share mythology and depth psychology with children and adults alike we could improve "the true history of the mind (which) is not preserved in learned volumes but in the living mental organism of everyone" (Jung, p. 41).
© Copyright Paula Vaughan
Jung,
Carl Gustav M.D.. Psychology and Religion. Connecticut:
Yale University Press, 1983.
Woolley,
C. Leonard. THE SUMERIANS. New York: AMS PRESS, INC., 1970,
p. 22.
Gilgamesh the King by Ludmila Zeman (The Gilgamesh Trilogy - Vol 1)
The Revenge of Ishtar by Ludmila Zeman (The Gilgamesh Trilogy - Vol 2)
The Last Quest of Gilgamesh by Ludmila Zeman (The Gilgamesh Trilogy - Vol 3)
Not to be reprinted without permission.
References
Resources for further study
Children's Picture Books
