بحث:آترا-هاسیس - ویکی‌پدیا، دانشنامهٔ آزاد

• Introduction, p. xxxix: There was a flaw built into Ea’s creation of man, a flaw that ex- plains how it was that something made by the gods for their own purposes was nevertheless a very imperfect tool. The clay that Ea gave to the Mother Goddess as the raw material from which she bore mankind was animated — given spirit — by mixing it with the blood of a god: Let one god be slaughtered and the gods be thereby cleansed. With his flesh and his blood . let the Lady of the Gods mix some clay, so that god and man are mixed together in the clay. In future time let us hear the drumming of the heartbeat, from the flesh of a god let the spirit be produced.” / Introduction, p. xl: The divine element in mankind’s creation explains why, in obvious distinction from the animals, the human race has selfconsciousness and reason. It also explains why, in Babylonian belief, men live on after death as spirits or shades in the Netherworld — as famously reported in Enkidu’s dream of the Netherworld in Tablet VII and in the Sumerian poem of Bilgames and the Netherworld. But the trouble was that the god who was executed to provide the blood was not the best material. In one tradition, at least, he was the leader of the rebels, who had instigated a mutiny. Small wonder, then, that mankind could be wayward. Uta-napishti tells his wife in Tablet XI, ‘Man is deceitful, he will deceive you’, and Gilgamesh duly confirms this unpalatable aspect of human nature by lying to him.
• Introduction, p. xl: The innately rebellious and unruly nature of man encapsulated in this myth of his creation also informs one tradition about early human history, first found in several Sumerian literary compositions, that in the beginning the human race roamed the land like the beasts of the field, naked but hairy, and for sustenance grazing on grass. According to Berossus, a Babylonian scholar of the fourth century Bc who wrote in Greek, at this stage men ‘lived without laws just as wild animals’, that is, without government, cities or social institutions. The creation of Enkidu in Tablet I of the Gilgamesh epic also alludes to this tradition: / Introduction, p. xli: The myth of man’s early barbarism is at odds with the tradition in which the human race is created to take up the tools of the city-dwelling gods; but the mythology of many civilizations is oral and diverse in origin, so that different traditions of how things came to be tend to coexist without difficulty. As is well known, the first two chapters of Genesis preserve two quite different accounts of God’s creation of man. The civilization of mankind, according to Babylonian mythology, was the work of the gods, who sent kingship from heaven, and especially of the god Ea, who despatched the Seven Sages to Eridu and other early cities, and with them all the arts and crafts of city life. These were the beings who, according to the epic’s prologue, founded Uruk with its wall: ‘Did the Seven Sages not lay its foundations?’ Foremost among these Sages was the fish-man Oannes-Adapa, who rose from the sea. Government, society and work were thus imposed on men. / The tradition that the first men roamed free and lawless and were not subject to kings helped to give rise to a myth that kings were created as distinct beings, significantly different from other mortals in appearance, capabilities and duties. The text that tells us most in this regard is known from a single tablet from Babylon written in the middle or late first millennium Bc, but coronation prayers from seventh-century Assyria quote part of it and the text itself may be older. In it, the god Ea and the Mother Goddess between them create man from clay, as in the poem of Atram-hasis and other mythological texts. Then they create a superior being and give him the tools for ruling: Ea opened his mouth to speak, saying a word to the Lady of the Gods: ‘You are Belet-ili, the sister of the great gods, you have created man the human, fashion now the king, the counsellor-man! Gird the whole of his figure sweet, make perfect his countenance and well formed his body!’ The Lady of the Gods fashioned the king, the counsellor-man! They gave to the king the task of doing battle for the [great] gods. Anu gave him his crown, Enlil gave him his throne, Nergal gave him his weapons, Ninurta gave him his corona of splendour; The Lady of the Gods gave him his features (of majesty), Nuska commissioned counsellors, stood them before him. 16

• Foster, Benjamin Read. Before the Muses: An Anthology of Akkadian Literature. United States: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2005.
• Glassner, Jean-Jacques. Mesopotamian Chronicles. Leiden, Netherlands: Brill, 2005.
• Wisnom, Laura Selena (2020). Weapons of words. Intertextual competition in Babylonian poetry: a study of Anzū, Enūma eliš, and Erra and Išum. Leiden. ISBN 978-90-04-41297-2. OCLC 1120783834.
  • p. 51-54 & p.105-131 & p. 182-216

A Hittite version of Atrahasis (KUB 8.63 + KBo 53.5[233]), presumably adapted from Hurrian,[130] casts Kumarbi in the role assigned to Enlil in the Akkadian original.[234] A man named Hamsha[g] informs his son, the eponymous protagonist, about actions this god plans to take, but their description is not preserved.[235] Kumarbi is also mentioned in a historiola focused on the flood hero in a text presumed to be a healing ritual of “Hurro-Luwian” background, in the past sometimes classified as a fragment of a Gilgamesh myth instead.[236] It is known from two tablets, KUB 8.62 and Bo 5700.[237]

• • Beckman, Gary (2019). The Hittite Gilgamesh. Atlanta, GA: Lockwood Press. ISBN 978-1-948488-07-5. OCLC 1103440509.
  • Archi, Alfonso (2009). "Orality, Direct Speech and the Kumarbi Cycle". Altorientalische Forschungen. De Gruyter. 36 (2). doi:10.1524/aofo.2009.0012. ISSN 0232-8461. S2CID 162400642.
  • Archi, Alfonso (2007). "Transmission of Recitative Literature by the Hittites". Altorientalische Forschungen. Walter de Gruyter GmbH. 34 (1–2). doi:10.1524/aofo.2007.34.12.189. ISSN 2196-6761. S2CID 161108305

• Dalley, Stephanie. Myths from Mesopotamia: Creation, the Flood, Gilgamesh, and Others. Rev. ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.
• Taylor, Jonathan. “A Library Fit for a King.” The British Museum, October 25, 2018. https://blog.britishmuseum.org/a-library-fit-for-a-king/.

When the heavens above had not been named,

nor the earth beneath been called by name,

there was Apsu, the preeminent, their begetter,

and creator Tiamat, who bore them all;

they mixed their waters together,

before pastures had formed and reed thickets had appeared.

The High Priest exits to the main courtyard, faces north, and blesses the Esagil temple three times. ... He opens the doors. The entire temple staff enters and performs its duties as is customary. The singers and the musicians (do) likewise. / When this has been completed, after the second meal, that of the evening, the High Priest of the Etuša recites from beginning to end [the composition] “When On High” [that’s Enuma elish] to Bēl [which represents Marduk]. When he recites [the composition] "When On High” to Bēl, the front of the crown of Anu and the resting place of the statue of Enlil are to be covered.

When the king arrives before Bēl, the High Priest leaves, taking the mace, the loop and the scepter. He also takes the crown of his kingship. He then brings them before Bēl and places them on a pedestal before Bēl. He leaves and strikes the king’s cheek. He places the king behind him and brings him before Bēl. He drags him in by his ears. He forces him to kneel down on the ground. ... The king says the following only once:

“I have not sinned, Lord of all Lands! I have not neglected your divinity! I have not caused the destruction of Babylon! I have not ordered its dissolution! I have not ... damaged the Esagil! I have not forgotten its rituals! I have not struck the cheek of those under my protection! ... I have not belittled them!”

When the heavens above had not been named,

nor the earth beneath been called by name,

there was Apsu, the preeminent, their begetter,

and creator Tiamat, who bore them all;

they mixed their waters together,

before pastures had formed and reed thickets had appeared.

When none of the gods had been made manifest,

nor been called by name, nor destinies decreed,

the gods were created in the midst of them.

• Dalley, Stephanie. Myths from Mesopotamia: Creation, the Flood, Gilgamesh, and Others. Rev. ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.
• Glassner, Jean-Jacques. Mesopotamian Chronicles. Leiden, Netherlands: Brill, 2005.

At the first light of dawn,

There came up from the horizon a black cloud,

within it did Adad bellow continually. ...

The still calm of the Storm God passed across the sky,

all that was bright was turned into gloom. ...

One person could not see another,

nor people recognize each other in the destruction.

Even the gods took fright at the Flood!

They withdrew, they went up to the heaven of Anu.

The gods were curled up like dogs, lying out in the open.

When kingship had come down from heaven, kingship was at Eridu. At Eridu, Alulim was king; he reigned 28,800 years; Alalgar reigned 36,000 years; two kings reigned 64,800 years. Eridu was abandoned; its kingship was taken to Bad-tibira. At Bad-tibira, Enmenluana reigned 43,200 years; Enmengalana reigned 28,800 years; the divine Dumuzi, the shepherd, reigned 36,000 years; three kings reigned 108,000 years. I abandon Bad-tibira; its kingship was taken to Larak. At Larak, En-sipazi-ana reigned 28,800 years; one king reigned 28,800 years. I abandon Larak; its kingship was taken to Sippar.

At Sippar, Enmendurana was king; he reigned 21,000 years; one king reigned 21,000 years. I abandon Sippar; its kingship was taken to Shuruppak. At Shuruppak, Ubar Tutu was king; he reigned 18,600 years; one king reigned 18,600 years. Five cities; eight kings ruled 241,200 years. The flood swept over. After the flood had swept over, when kingship had come down from heaven, kingship was at Kish. At Kish, Gishur was king; he reigned 1,200 years.

When gods like men

did forced labor and bore the work—

the work of the gods was great—

the forced labor was heavy, the hardship was much,

the great Anunnaki-gods, the seven,

made the Igigi-gods bear the forced labor.

Anu, their father, was the king;

their counselor was the warrior Enlil;

their chamberlain was Ninurta;

and their bailiff was Ennugi.

Enki made his voice heard

and spoke to the great gods:

“On the first, seventh, and fifteenth of the month

I will make a purification, a bath.

Let one god be slaughtered,

Then let the gods be purified in it.

Let Nintu mix clay with his flesh and blood,

Let that same god and man be thoroughly mixed in the clay,

Let us hear the drumbeat for the rest of time,

From the flesh of the god let a spirit remain,

Let it make the living know its sign,

Lest he be forgotten, let the spirit remain.”

They answered “Yes!” in the assembly,

the great Anunnaki who assign the fates.

On the first, seventh, and fifteenth days of the month,

He established a purification, a bath.

They slaughtered We-ila, who had the inspiration, in their assembly.

Nintu mixed the clay with flesh and blood.

p. 4: Nevertheless the poem is not completely impervious to the religiosity of the culture from which it stemmed. In its recognitionof man's ultimate powerlessness under the supreme authority of the divine the epic bows to the religious ideology of its time.

Some nineteen centuries separate the oldest Sumerian fragment from the latest Babylonian manuscripts.

p 4-6: Old Sumerian corpus of narrative compositions from the Early Dynastic IIIa period roughly the mid-third millennium BC / texts of this archaic corpus can be properly understood only when later versions are extant / Three Sumerian texts from this archaic corpus have been claimed, at one time or another, as compositions involving Gilgamesh. (... First, birth of gilgamesh. Second, third (Bilgames and the Bull of Heaven)...)

p 6: The early rulers of Uruk had a great impact on poets of the third millennium, much as Trojan war and its aftermath had on Homer.

The Sumerian Poems Of Gilgamesh (p7-17):

the oldest: a fragment of bilgames and the Bull of Heaven from Nippur ... (dancing and sex)(p7)

each poem in details ...

p18, second half: Atra-hasis / The account of the Deluge in Tablet XI of the Standard Babylonian epic was once thought to derive from the Sumerian flood myth-a text that has nothing to do with the Sumerian Gilgamesh-though there was (and still is) no evidence for the incorporation of the flood story in any secind-millennium text of Babylonian Gilgamesh. Since the relatively recent recovery of the Babylonian poem of Atra-hasis this view has been revised and the flood story in Tablet XI has been recognized more exactly as a straightforward and sometimes verbatim adaptation of part of that poem.

p 19-20: ... First, it grows ever clearer that there was no unified Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh nor even a cycle of related texts, only five separate and independent compositions.... Second (IMPORTANT)(reviewing parts that has no parallel in sumerian poems)

p 20: Atra-hasis / page 21, second paragraph: Atra-hasis

page 21, first paragraph: Andrew George's view about oral tradition in near east / page 21, second paragraph: Andrew George's view about the poet / page 21, last paragraph: Andrew George's view / page 22, first paragraph: about the author of Gilgamesh

p 23, last paragraph + p 24, first and second paragraph (VERY IMPORTANT)

Tablet XII: what, when and why? + The Epic of Gilgamesh outside the cuneiform tradition (ALL: p 47-71)

p 31: Atra-hasis (2 manuscript) / page 33, second half: Elamite / page 36, second half: Atra-hasis / page 37: persian period

p91-138: Gilgamesh and the wall of Uruk / Gilgamesh the hero / Gilgamesh the king / Gilgamesh the god / other attestations of Gilgamesh + Important minor titles

p 101-104: Gilgamesh the king ---> The Sumerian King List (ALL)

The Letter of Gilgamesh (p117-119)

Page 20: Genesis. All examples imply or state divine inspiration for the text in more or less ambiguous terms. In the case of Erra and Ishum, the text was "revealed"; in the Epic ofCreation, the text was proclaimed during a ceremony, and was "explained" by the author. In the Agushaya poem and the hymn to Ishtar, the author's partic-ipation was indistinguishable from that ofthe god ofwisdom himself, or at least the god "caused it to be." In both Atrahasis and Agushaya, ambiguity as to whether a god (first person) or the poet (third person) is speaking may be intentional.

page 20: In the Epic of Creation, the poet is concerned that future generations will understand the text correctly. In Atrahasis the text is made into a command of Enlil by the artful Ea.

page 20: Authority for the text is granted in the form of divine approval. Such authority is referred to in Erra and Ishum, the Epic ofCreation, and implied in Atrahasis.

page 20: Traditing and dissemination of texts are referred to in Erra and Ishum, the Epic of Creation, Agushaya, and Atrahasis both synchronically and diachronically: "all people" are supposed to hear them, as well as succeeding generations.

page 21: The Classical period ofAkkadian literature seems to have been a time ofsingular creativity, as though a vigorous literature was in formation. Atrahasis, for instance, is a poetic masterpiece. It sets forth the history and life cycle of humankind in rela tion to divine history, using traditional materials in a highly original manner.

page 22: At the Cleaners (Il. 14) and the Gilgamesh Letter (IV. s 8) are likewise humorous texts

page 23: The Classical period provides the oldest version ofvarious compositions known from later periods in different forms. Some are magical spells, for example II.23a, ofwhich several later versions are known. Others are narrative, for example Atra hasis (Il.36), a version of which was incorporated into the Late Assyrian Gilgamesh Epic

page 24: The same passage may occur in more than one composition. For example, The Descent of Ishtar, IIl. 19 lines 1 9-20 appear, in slightly different form, in the Gilgamesh Epic Tablet VI lines 97-100, as do lines 106-108 of the same text in the Gilgamesh Epic Tablet VII lines 80-84, altered and expanded. Likewise, The Descent oflshtar lines 4-10 are found, altered and expanded, in Nergal and Eresh kigal, III.20, Late Version ii-iii. Because of the long, complex history of the Descent of Ishtar story, one may opine that it was the source of these passages, whether they are to be read as reuse of stock material or as literary allusions. In any case, literary allusion was known in Mesopotamia, as evidenced by quotation of Advice to a Prince (IV. l 3) in a letter, and quotation of the Cuthaean Legend of Naram-Sin by Assurbanipal in a stem warning.

page 25: The Epic of Creation (IIl . 1 7), which probably dates to the Mature period, is a particularly apt subject for intertextual study, for it draws on a variety of Akkadian and Sumerian traditions. These include narrative poems about the god Ninurta, 1 whose deeds are assigned to Marduk in the Epic of Creation. The episode of the creation of humankind is drawn from Atrahasis or a similar text; lists of divine names form a basis for the episode of the fifty names of Marduk.

page 25: In its tum, the Epic of Creation exercised considerable influence on later Akka dian literature. 3 Late devotional compositions allude to or quote the epic (111.44b, 44e, 44f, 46a; IV.4d) . One cannot demonstrate that in every case the epic was the source and the other text the borrowing, but there are usually circumstantial reasons for taking this to be the case. For example, Against Illness (111.44b) alludes to the epic halfa dozen times in the space of ten lines. The allusions are highlighted by being concentrated in a single passage, with no further allusions to be found in the text thereafter. They refer to Marduk's power as slayer ofTiamat and his role as a vegetation and fertility deity. Prince of the Gods (Ill.44f) contains numerous allusions, direct and indirect, to the epic, and indeed, so far as preserved, reads like a meditation on the larger text.

page 26: Time, a major preoccupation of European literary tradition, is seldom a central issue in Akkadian literature. The Babylonian concept of time was linear rather than cyclical. 1 Time was concrete and calendrical, the sum total of days, months, and years.2 Normal time and normal human lifespans were thought to have existed only since the Flood. 3 Prior to the Flood, the synchronism ofbiological and calen-drical time was different, in that human beings were thought to have lived impos sibly long lives.

Akkadian literature offers, in many instances, a subjective evaluation of periods oftime.2 The past was considered especially fit for inquiry, because humankind and human institutions were viewed as products ofspecific past events. Akkadian liter ature generally portrays the past as better than the present. Accordingly, the best hope for humankind was to re-create the past.

Intimately connected with this judgment of the past is the notion of destiny, one's past experienced as one's future. Indeed, destiny in Mesopotamian thought and literature tends to take the place of time as found in European literature. 3 Destiny was either an impersonal necessity, such as death, or it was personified as a Fate, seen as willful and capricious, hence something that could be manipulated or avoided. Especially in narrative poetry, destiny is a frequently developed theme, while the passage of time, as understood in modem literature, is used primarily for rhetorical devices.

Examples of such devices include long spans of time correlated with great distance or unusually prolonged suffering, as in the Poem ofthe Righteous Sufferer (III. 1 4) , and short spans of time used to imply heroic achievement, as in III.6 line 23. 5 Characters do not age in Akkadian literature, though they can grow wiser, and their only acknowledgment of biological time is to contrast the rashness of youth with the �easured reason of maturity (see An Old Man's Prayer, III.45b).

page 25-26: The Mesopotamian scheme of solar and lunar time affects Akkadian literature. Certain events are peculiar to the night (dreams, visions, watching) ; others are characteristic of the morning (revelations, action, understanding) . Night was the beginning of the day rather than the end of it. The Mesopotamian day and night were divided into watches composed of "double hours," three of the night and three of the day.

Babylonian thought correlated time and space, in that units of time also served as units of distance, distance being expressed in terms of the time elapsed in mak ing normal progress from one point to another.

Some authors were concerned with the relationship between narrative and event, and so experimented with narrative time. In an interesting passage in Erra and Ishum, event and discourse coexist while Erra narrates in the present certain deeds he is doing (see IV. 1 7).

page 227: I . MYTHOLOGY / Mesopotamian mythology of the Classical period is known from Sumerian and Akkadian poetic narratives in which deities play leading roles; from hymns and prayers, from allusions in incantations to divine actions, from personal names that refer to deities, and from passages in other writings, such as commemo rative inscriptions. 1 Two important mythological narratives known from the Classical period, Etana (111.22) and Anzu (111.23), have been placed with the longer versions known from the Mature and Late periods.

II.36 ATRAHASIS / Atrahasis is the largest surviving Classical-period mythological narrative poem. It sets forth an interpretation of the creation of humanity, the flood, and the origins of human birth, marriage, procreation, and death, all these themes brilliantly worked out in a cohesive plot. When the story opens, Anu, Enlil, and Enki have divided the universe: Anu has taken the heavens, Enlil the earth, Enki the watery depths. Enlil imposes forced labor on a large group of the gods, who proceed to dig the courses for the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. The gods rebel against their harsh servitude, laying siege to Enlil's house. The ruling gods meet and send a representative to the rebels, ostensibly to find out why they are rebelling, but, in fact, demanding that they identify their leader. The rebels stick together, so Enlil, distressed, suggests that Anu authorize a new world order. Anu, therefore, directs that the human race be created to assume the work of the gods. Enki and the mother-goddess, variously called Nintu, Belet-ili, Mama, or Mami, accomplish this task by mixing blood of a slain ringleader of the rebels with clay. An (immortal) spirit or ghost, represented by the throb of the human pulse, will be a memorial to the slain god. Human marriage and procreation are instituted and the gods are henceforth free from labor.

The human race multiplies to the extent that Enlil is disturbed by its noise. First, he sends a plague to diminish humanity, but this fails to do so because Enki tells his favorite human being, Atrahasis, how to circumvent the plague. Next, he causes a drought, but this too fails for the same reason.Third, he causes a famine, which is evidently circumvented by Enki through the release of large numbers of fish. Finally, Enlil convenes the gods and imposes an oath on them not to reveal his next measure, a flood. Enki warns Atrahasis indirectly by talk ing to the wall of a reed enclosure where Atrahasis sleeps to receive divine communication. Atrahasis builds an ark, fills it with belongings, artisans, and animals, and survives the flood. In the aftermath of the flood, the gods discover their dependency on the human race and so devise better ways to control the population, including taboos on marriage and childbirth and death for all human beings at different times and in different ways.

The story is presented here in four versions. The Old Babylonian, or Classical version (II.36a), is based principally on an Old Babylonian manuscript of the seventeenth century B.C. Various other Old Babylonian manuscripts have been incorporated into the translation of this version where possible, plus some later fragments. The original consisted of three tablets containing 1245 lines of poetry, of which about 60 percent are preserved in whole or in part. The Middle Babylonian version (II.36b), dating to the Mature period, is known in two recensions, a fragmentary manuscript from Nippur (II.36b.1) and a short Atrahasis story from Syria (II.36b.2). The Late Babylonian version (II.36c) , dating to the Late period, is often close to the Old Babylonian, but has some significant differences, many of which appear to be misunderstandings of an earlier text or editorial alterations. In only a few instances does the Late Babylonian version seem poetically or linguistically superior to the Old Babylonian one. The Late Assyrian version (II.36d) was perhaps derived from a Middle Assyrian reworking of the text, and diverges widely from the Old Babylonian. The Assyrian version, in particular, expanded some episodes, rewrote others, and, in general, levelled out the originality of the older text into a flat, standardized idiom full of repetition. Another version of this story is found in Tablet XI of the Gilgamesh epic (Foster, Gilgamesh, 84-91). 1 In the translations of the later versions, cross references are given to the Old Babylonian to assist the reader who wishes to compare them.

For the further convenience of the reader who wishes to see the story as a whole, key segments, as preserved in different versions, are tabulated below, where OB means the Old Babylonian version (II.36a) ; MB the Middle Babylonian versions (II.36b), LB the Late Babylonian version (II.36c), and LAssyr the Late Assyrian version (II.36d).

Prehistory and rebellion of gods OB I, 1-180; LB I, II, 1-80; LAssyr I i

Creation of humanity OB I, 181-247; LB II, 81-116

Institution of birth, marriage, procreation OB I , 273-305; LAssyr I iii

Humans go to work OB I, 328-339

Plague and rescue OB I, 352-412; LB IV; LAssyr I iv, 1-36

Drought and rescue OB II i, ii; LB V; LAssyr I iv, 37-62

Famine and rescue OB II, iii, iv, v; LAssyr I v, vi

Oath and preparation for flood OB II, vi, vii, viii

Atrahasis is warned, builds ark OB III i, ii; MB b.1 , b.2; LAssyr II iii

Flood OB III ii, iii; LAssyr II, continuation

Aftermath OB III iii, iv, v, vi

p. 255: (b.2) AN ATRAHASIS STORY FROM SYRIA / This version of the Atrahasis story was evidently narrated by Atrahasis himself. The tablet was discovered at Ugarit, on the Syrian coast, and dates approximately to the thirteenth century B.C.

p 256: (c) LATE BABYLONIAN VERSION / The Late Babylonian version given here is a conflation of manuscripts from various times and places during the first millennium B.C. The most important of these is the Sippar manuscript, dating to the late sixth century, which spread the narrative over more tablets than the Old Babylonian volume.

p 268: (d) LATE ASSYRIAN VERSION / The "Late Assyrian version" given here is a conflation of different sources from Assyria and Babylonia dating to the first millennium B.C. that are very different from either the Old or Late Babylonian version. References to the Old Baby lonian version are provided in the right margin. / (In this version Nusku makes his visit to the rebels after the proposal to slaughter the leader has been made.)

APPENDIX: CTH 347—ATRA-ḪASĪS (pp. 63-68)

p. 64: Assignment of this fragment to the Gilgamesh epic is very uncertain

Chapter 3 - Enūma eliš and Atraḫasīs (pp. 105-130)(Conclusions) Chapter 6 - Overturning the Old Order: Erra and Išum and Enūma eliš, Atraḫasīs, and Gilgameš (pp. 182-215)(Conclusions)

p. 108: Allusions to Atraḫasīs in Enūma eliš work towards two ends: Marduk’s re- placement of Enlil, and his replacement of Ea. The allusions can be grouped into two main sets, those referring to the threat of destruction, and those deal- ing with new creation. The terrible clamour that prevents a god from sleeping, the resulting plan to destroy the beings causing the noise, and the intervention of Ea to save those beings in Enūma eliš form one set of allusions that recall the rash behaviour of Enlil in Atraḫasīs, the unwise king who now deserves to be deposed. The creation motifs form another set connecting Marduk with Ea, as both characters in Enūma eliš create physical domains from the body of their defeated enemy, and the creation of man in Enūma eliš draws on the same episode as told in Atraḫasīs. Allusions to Atraḫasīs in Enūma eliš therefore con- tribute towards both Marduk’s take-over as head of the pantheon and as a son outgrowing his father. However, Marduk supplants Enlil in a particularly elab- orate way, for Enlil is overthrown by allusion, using the murder of Apsû to stand for Enlil’s figurative demise.

p. 110: The first allusion to Atraḫasīs in Enūma eliš is the terrible clamour raised by the offspring of Apsû and Ti’āmtu, a clam- our which signals that a cataclysmic destruction is to come:

p. 116: There are other details to suggest that Apsû is a bad king

p. 117: When the Gods Were (like) Man - It is significant that Ea is the one who foils Apsû’s evil plans, for he plays a sim- ilar role as in Atraḫasīs (Vanstiphout, 1992: 45). There it was also Ea who inter- vened on men’s behalf to save them from being destroyed by Enlil...

p. 128-129: (Conclusions) Allusions to Atraḫasīs remind us of the necessity of Marduk’s rise. Enlil was a thoughtless, irrational ruler who imposed forced labour on his divine subjects and would have wiped out humankind without a second thought. Ea intervenes to avert the catastrophe: his murder of Apsû gets rid of both bad kings, deposing Enlil symbolically at the same time as killing Apsû literally, and makes the peaceful succession of a good king possible. Once Marduk is victorious it is Ea’s turn to be superseded by his son, as Marduk’s creations out-do those of his father both in Atraḫasīs and in Enūma eliš itself. Marduk’s creation of man takes place under very different circumstances from those in Atraḫasīs, showing him to be more benevolent and wiser than his predecessors. Allusions to Atraḫasīs, then, can be seen to fit into a wider schema of Marduk’s suitability to rule in contrast to those who came before him: he is not only a great warrior, but a clever and compassionate king.

p. 129: Invoking motifs from the earlier poem, further linked by the use of the same verbs, is an important technique as we have seen with the relationship of Enūma eliš to Anzû. The stripping of the crown is expressed with a form of šaḫāṭu in both texts (Enūma eliš I.61, Anzû I.80), while the words for causing noise and trouble are inflections of šabû and adāru (Atraḫasīs I.354–355; Enūma eliš I.22, 24). The pattern of noise causing sleep deprivation leading to impending destruction is specifically associated with Atraḫasīs, making a powerful statement about the scale of the crisis in Enūma eliš and the differing ways it is dealt with by Marduk and Enlil. The use of the word abšānum, ‘yoke’ in Enūma eliš (I.122) to refer to the burden of exhaustion that provokes the rebellion is a further reminder of Enlil’s oppressive rule (referring back to Atraḫasīs I.195–196). That Apsû’s crown and sash are stripped off before he is killed echoes Enlil’s stripping off his own regalia before he is deprived of his power, adding an allusion to Anzû to the symbolic equivalence between Apsû and Enlil. References to two different poems thus work in tandem to the same end. What is opportunistic in one poem becomes more deliberate in the next: in Anzû Enlil’s power was snatched away, later to be recovered, but Apsû is murdered once and for all. There is a tone of finality in this, another sense of Enūma eliš ‘learning’ from mistakes made in earlier poems—it improves on motifs by leaving no loop holes, no avenues for its work to be undone.

p 129-130: We have already seen how Enlil is sidelined by omission via comparisons with Anzû, as well as more explicitly, such as when Enlil directly gives his title bēl mātāti to Marduk (VII.136). In addition to these, we see here a particularly subtle technique that uses Apsû as a symbol for Enlil, standing in for the cruelty, irresponsibility, and thoughtlessness that the old god represents. The overthrow of one connotes the overthrow of the other: Marduk does not con- front Enlil outright, yet still ‘defeats’ him through this indirect vehicle. This use of allusion implies that something takes place on a symbolic level, using inter- textuality not only to supplement agendas in the text but actually as a form of indirect narration. This may seem unusual, yet it is not so dissimilar from the 50 names of Enlil symbolising Enlil himself. If Enlil’s position as supreme ruler can be transferred symbolically via the giving of his names, then it is just as possible for Enlil to be deposed symbolically through the murder of his counterpart. The use of counterparts is the dominant strategy in building a relationship to Atraḫasīs. Each of these counterparts has a slightly different function. While Apsû is the equivalent of Enlil, killed off in his stead, Ti’āmtu is the equival- ent of Mami, yet she is a birth goddess who will not allow her creations to be destroyed, active where Mami was passive, succeeding where she had failed. Ti’āmtu also corresponds to the deluge in this story, a destructive body of water that is the catalyst for clearing away the old order to make way for the new. Numerous parallels between the activities of Marduk and Ea show Marduk as the superior equivalent of his father: the defeat of Ti’āmtu and Qingu corresponds to the murder of Apsû and Mummu, Marduk’s dwelling of Esagil corresponds to that of Ea’s dwelling Apsû, and Marduk’s creation of the world out of his defeated enemy corresponds to Ea’s creation of his abode from the body of Apsû. In all of these, Marduk upstages his father, each act an improvement on the earlier counterpart. This kind of parallelism, where the new equivalents are also better or worse than their earlier referents, creates a deep and sustained relationship with the earlier poem, as comparisons can be made throughout the text. In addition to one-off references, made in a single line or word, this equivalence of characters runs all the way through, encouraging us to think of their literary predecessors at every turn. Just as Marduk is portrayed as the new Ninurta via a continuous engagement with Anzû, so the allusions to Atraḫasīs show Marduk defeating Enlil by allusion, and upstaging Ea, ultimately replacing all three.

p. 214: (Conclusions) Allusions to these three different poems work together in Erra and Išum to build up a picture of the Babylonian world unravelling. The guarantor of world order in Enūma eliš has his former pronouncements of absolute power as well as one of his own titles used against him to underscore how far he has fallen, adding insult to injury. Allusions to the murder of Apsû in Enūma eliš in a passage that speaks of Marduk’s own loss of position reminds us that even the power of seemingly almighty gods is subject to rise and fall: Marduk had once deposed an earlier ruler, and now he is being replaced himself. Allusions to Atraḫasīs reinforce this, further connecting Marduk with the irascible Enlil and his outdated regime by making him responsible for the deluge, that thoughtless act which Enūma eliš implied was a justification for Enlil’s removal. Erra is also connected with Enlil as the irresponsible god who is stirred from sleep and provoked to mass slaughter, but with even less justification, showing him to be even more extreme.

Erra’s destruction is described as deluge in a way that harks back to the orignal deluge sent by Enlil as narrated in Atraḫasīs and Gilgameš, a destruction so terrible that it threatened the very existence of the gods. Allusions to Gilgameš in particular style this as a barbaric regression that undoes all the achievements of civilization. Erra and Išum thus re-animates the clichés of the universal flood by investing it with specific meanings: this new deluge of destruction threatens to surpass even the original symbol of the worst catastrophe possible, another example of the poem surpassing its models. In addition to this the poem also refers to the deluge-like aspects of Ti’āmtu in Enūma eliš. These allusions set up Erra in opposition to Marduk and liken the current situation to yet another crisis that threatened the gods—not only the deluge, but also the primeval rebellion of the first gods. When the Seven goad Erra towards war they are connected to the disturbed Ti’āmtu and the monsters she creates, both in the words they speak and the way they are described. Erra’s agents of destruction are thus portrayed as just as dangerous a threat to the cosmic order as Ti’āmtu once was, but this time Marduk will be unable to counter it. Into this crumbling old order

p. 215: (Conclusions) We see here a number of complex chains of allusion developing, tracing motifs through all three poems. One is the theme of sleep deprivation, first found in Atraḫasīs and most strongly associated with that poem. However, Enūma eliš also picks up the motif and uses it for its own ends. When sleep deprivation rears its head in Erra and Išum it alludes to both these previous occurrences. Enlil, Apsû, and Erra all overreact to their provocations, yet Erra is the worst of all—noise is mentioned as the reason, but it is only an excuse. Enlil’s justification was questionable, and Apsû’s abhorrent, but Erra’s is merely a flimsy pretext for violence for its own sake, and he still cannot find rest even after all the destruction he wreaks. Furthermore, Erra is alarmingly easily swayed by outside forces, giving the impression of a ruling force that is inconsistent and unstable. The material carried on the wind as an announce- ment of victory is another such chain, calling up the former battles of Marduk and Ninurta respectively, yet emphasising Marduk’s defeat rather than his triumph.

At the climax of the poem of Erra and Išum, all the progress made by gods and men has been undone. The bond of heaven and earth is broken, war is annihilating civilization, and Erra is behaving like a man, not a god. Even Marduk— a once-young and powerful deity who could save the gods from any crisis—is now old, incapacitated, and back in his infant home. The chaos threatened if Erra continues is equivalent to a return to a prehistoric age, since for the Mesopotamians the cosmic deluge, whose imagery is interwoven with the narrative, represented the beginning of historical time. The crisis is the most severe since the flood itself, warranting lamentation on an exceptional scale as a desperate attempt to avert the evil.