Today's Topics: 

You have your first test next Friday. Here is the Study Guide.

Enlil and Ninlil

In this story, we see a very young Enlil and Ninlil, both deities of the wind. We see shades of the Enki and Ninhursag story here when we consider the lusty virulence of both Enki and Enlil in these two stories. Similarly, Ninlil is warned by her mother, much as Uttu is warned by Ninhursag, to stay away from the lusty male force. Although properly warned, Ninlil disobeys her mother's advice and bathes in the river, drawing the attention of Enlil, who offers the most direct pick-up line in world literature: "I want to have sex with you!" Ninlil explains that she is a virgin. They have been "intended" to each other, much as we saw with Inanna and Dumuzi.

Enlil inseminates Ninlil before their wedding day, impregnating her with the seed of Suen (or Sin or Nanna, the moon). After this, we see an interesting reaction from the Anunnaki: they send Enlil to the Underworld for punishment. What is unusual here is that the Underworld does not typically have an association with punishment. The Underworld is not Hell, which is reserved for punishment in Western traditions. What we probably see here is that the Underworld is being used to teach Enlil a lesson.

Because the Anunnaki punish Enlil for being "ritually impure," we learn from this that Enlil violated a social standard (a law), not a natural one. Nature tells us to have lots of sex, but our societies impose limits. Enlil's violation of social standards will be punishable by judges, rather than by "acts of God," which will be the predominant mentality of the readings from Unit 2: The Age of Aries, where societal law rose higher than natural law. We also see here that at least 50 gods are more powerful than Enlil, as Enlil immediately obeys their judgment. Eventually, the Babylonians would elevate Enlil to a higher position as head of the pantheon, replacing An (Anu in Babylonian).

As Enlil heads toward the Underworld, Ninlil follows, as she is pregnant with their child. During the next several paragraphs, we see Enlil disguising himself as the gatekeeper and the boat driver, magically impregnating Ninlil simultaneously with three separate pregnancies. In real life, a pregnant woman cannot become additionally pregnant, so the actions here are Divine. This illustrates Ninlil's powers as a birth goddess, because she can continually become pregnant while already carrying a child, a feat that no mortal woman could accomplish. Ninlil will give birth in the Underworld to Nanna (the moon god), who will marry Ningal (a moon goddess) who will birth the sun, Utu, as well as Inanna and her sister Ereshkigal.

In this creation story of the Underworld family, we see that the moon came first, not the sun. When people begin to think about mythology, sun worship often comes to mind. However, in a desert culture that bets unbearably hot in the summer, the sun doesn't get a lot of worship. In fact, we see Utu denying help to Inanna in The Huluppu-Tree story, perhaps showing little reliance on the sun than what might be expected. We won't see a powerful sun god characterized until Unit 2, where we will see the Babylonian counterpart, Shamash, take an active role in helping heroes to accomplish great feats.

The Kur, the Underworld mountain, connected by the Apsu under the surface, asks for Ereshkigal to be the Queen of the Underworld, but Enki attacks the Kur to rescue the goddess. You should noticew a parallel to the opening scene on page 4 of The Huluppu-Tree, where we see Enki descending into the Underworld in his boat, facing a brutal attack. Although Enki defeats the Kur (water is more powerful than rock, over time), the Kur still cannot relinquish Ereshkigal. Much like how Enki isn't so much the god of the water as he is the water, perhaps now Ereshkigal has become synonymous with the Underworld. After all, how does one bring the Underworld back to the surface? If you could, the moment that you did would mean that the Underworld would no longer be under the world. It can't be done. Death is permanent.

In their infinite wisdom, the gods decide to throw a party for Ereshkigal that they know she cannot attend. She sends Namtar, her vizier (this is an Arabic word meaning "advisor"), in her place, and he is immediately honored by all the gods except for one -- Nergal. Well, this wasn't his best political move, because Namtar tells Ereshkigal, who then sends him back to seize Nergal. Enki assures Nergal that he will be well armed in battle, having given Nergal seven demons to accompany him to the Underworld. Once inside, he launches a surprise attack with the demons, locking the doors and trapping everyone inside. He seizes Ereshkigal and threatens to kill her (just as she threatened to kill him earlier). However, Ereshkigal offers him a hand in marriage, with the power that comes with it. Suddenly, he likes what he hears and he kisses Ereshkigal, accepting her offer to be a ruler of the Underworld. This is perhaps a better position than he could have received with the Anunnaki.

Nergal and Ereshkigal

In this story, we see a longer (and later) version of the episide that occurred at the end of Enlil and Ninlil. Ereshkigal has been selected as Queen of the Underworld, even though Enki's battle against the Kur was vistorious. You should note that the names of characters in this story reflect the Babylonian names, since this is a Babylonian story. Therefore, An becomes Anu, Enki becomes Ea, Inanna becomes Ishtar, and Kur becomes Kurnugi ("The Land of No Return").

Anu declares a celebration in honor of Ereshkigal, but unfortunately she can't attend since she is locked into the Underworld. Therefore, a series of messengers, usually advisors to the gods, are allowed to take the long stairway to Heaven and the Underworld, back and forth. Entering the Underworld, one must pass through a series of seven gates that serve as the checkpoints into and out of the Kur, each gate guarded by a different guard.

On page 166, notice that Kakka, Anu's messenger, enters the underworld and is greeted by Ereshkigal who, on three occasions, offers him "peace." Remember that the Underworld is not Hell. It is not a place of punishment, but rather the necessary abode of the dead. The Underworld does not pose harm.

Ereshkigal then sends her servant, Namtar, to the heavens to receive her gifts. When Namtar enters Heaven, he is acknowledged and respected by all the gods, except Nergal, who refused to kneel. We don't know why. This makes Namtar mad, and he tells Ereshkigal about Nergal's behavior.

Perhaps to make it up to Ereshkigal, Nergal will walk down the stairway and present Ereshkigal with a throne, which he makes by cutting down several varieties of trees and painting it to look like it is made of gold, silver, and gems. Some may look at this throne and recognize that it bears a false impression: it looks like gold, but it's really wood. Some may think that Nergal's throne is a cheap imitation; however, a closer inspection reveals deeper symbolism. The chair is not cheap, since it is crafted with several types of wood and decorations. Time and effort certainly were applied here. The throse of the Underworld, being made of wood, reflects the essence of what the Kur is all about: that trees, once living, were now dead, but they still have a place and a value, despite their deceased condition.

Ea then instructs Nergal on how to behave in the Underworld: don't accept any gifts: accepting a gift from the Underworld means that you accept the Underworld, meaning that you have chosen to stay there forever. One of the Underworld rules is that no escape is possible, at least for mortals, and the gods tend to escape either because of their power, their cleverness, or their bargaining. Among the gifts that Nergal is supposed to avoid is Ereshkigal's naked body.

Nergal passes through the seven gates and greets Ereshkigal, who offers him all the gifts that Ea foreshadowed. Nergal rejects each one ... until Ereshkigal takes off her clothes and entices him to make love to her. For six days they make love, but on the seventh Nergal wakes up in the middle of the night and is afraid of what he has just done. He runs out of the Underworld, telling the gatekeeper that Ereshkigal sent him away. This is apparently a lie, a clever way to escape.

At the bottom of page 171, the gods call Nergal the "Son of Ishtar," implying that he has changed into a fertility god due to his relationship with Ereshkigal. Ishtar (Inanna) has long been associated with Ereshkigal beyond merely being sisters. Scholars have suggested that Inanna (Ishtar) and Ereshkigal are actually the same character, but each possessing an opposite aspect of the other: Inanna with life and Ereshkigal with death. In the heavens, Ea sprinkles Nergal with magic water that changes his appearance, since everyone knows that the Underworld will come looking for him.

When Ereshkigal awakens, she asks the gatekeeper where Nergal went, and she learns that her lover has escaped. She calls for his immediate arrest and sends Namtar to Heaven to seize Nergal. If she can't get Nergal back, she threatens to raise all the dead to become living again! Up in Heaven, however, Namtar cannot recognize Nergal's changed appearance, and he returns to the Underworld alone ... until Ereshkigal sends him back up the long stairway to heaven to get Nergal, who is now bald and crouching in the fetal position.

Namtar convinces Nergal to meet his fate, and Nergal arms himself. Entering the seven gates, Nergal fights his way into the Underworld, but immediately seizes Ereshkigal and jumps in bed with her, apparently happy to be back. In Enlil and Ninlil, notice that Nergal seemed prepared to kill Ereshkigal until she relented and vowed to share rulership with him.

Therefore, the rules of the Underworld have been upheld, and Ereshkigal has a husband who is bound to the Kur forever. This suggests that the Underworld is really a place of life, not death, since life goes on down there, albeit in a different capacity.

Etana

This story is more of a fable because it communicates a series of morals (albeit very obvious ones).  The previous titles have not proposed any rules of conduct, mainly because the gods and goddesses play their known roles well.  Etana, however, is a man, a king who has been unable to create an heir for his throne.  He will use the plight of the eagle to solve his problem.

Much like in The Huluppu-Tree, Etana begins with a poplar tree that houses an eagle at the top and a serpent at the bottom.  Unlike the traditional Western interpretation of the serpent as “evil,” the serpent in this story is good, and actually becomes a helpless victim.  The eagle is the bad guy in this tale, a brutal and selfish murderer of the serpent’s young.  Here’s why. 

Recall that the original definition of the Greek word “demon” (“daemon”) means “an intermediary,” or a middleman, go-between, catalyst, etc.  The demon is the spirit/creature that either allows us to get closer to our goal (God, etc.) or it prevents us from easily attaining something of our desire (such as a dragon guarding the sacred treasure).  Therefore, ANY intermediary plays a role in defining our fates.  Jesus is an intermediary to God the Father (through Jesus we get close to God).  Likewise, an angel is an intermediary, as are the creatures living in the huluppu-tree, the serpent in the Garden of Eden, or a minister in a church.  All of these are “demons,” and they are necessary conduits and channels to the spiritual world.  We will see in later readings that the characters who overstep their bounds are often considered “evil,” such as Tiamat and Gilgamesh (whom we will see in future stories).  The eagle is that creature in Etana.

Recall as well that birds are fantastic examples of intermediaries, as are any creatures that have wings that can allow them to leave the earth and reach the heavens.  Earthbound serpents can burrow into the ground, thus entering the underworld.  The serpents typically allow us to grow and develop in earthly ways, whereas birds help us to attain a closer relationship with the gods.  Therefore, we can see that this fable will incorporate two different types of intermediaries -- one bound to the earth, but the other free to roam.

The tale begins on page 191, where the serpent addresses the eagle, who has committed some “unforgivable deeds” (clarified in footnote #10 that the eagle had eaten from a sacrificial animal, perhaps swooping down and snatching it off the altar).  The eagle and the serpent make a pact to assist each other with their food supply.  Whatever the eagle kills will be shared with the serpent and his young, while anything the serpent catches will be shared with the eagle and his young too.  This is how society tends to operate – we must work together with others whom we dislike or fear.  Since there is an air of mutual distrust, the serpent decides that they should swear their oath on  Shamash, the sun god, who can “see” all that occurs below.  If any one of these creatures harms the other, then Shamash will judge him accordingly.

Well, only a few lines pass before the eagle turns to his evil ways again.  On page 192, he decides to kill the serpent’s young.  No reason is given, such as the scarcity of food, so we must assume that this decision is simply wicked.  The eagle acknowledges that his actions will hurt the serpent, so he knows that it is wrong.  Interestingly, the eagle’s children protest their father’s decision, telling him that he “oversteps the limit” (193).  This generated a little bit of discussion, since young children often recognize the wrongdoing in their parents’ behaviors through their innocence (or ignorance).

Wisdom is the combination of knowledge plus experience.  Children lack both, but they first are taught the limits and rules (knowledge), forcing them to test these limits through their experience.  I recalled a time when I was a little kid and I had lied to my own mother about something.  In the middle of her verbal tirade against my behavior, the telephone rang.  It was one of her friends who was inviting our family out to dinner, but my mother didn’t want to go, so she told her friend that we had other plans that night.  As soon as she hung up the phone, I informed her that she had lied to her friend, and that she had just told me that lying was wrong.  Well, suffice it to say, I learned not to say those things to my mother, who was not at all pleased by my sass and backtalk.

Kids see things black and white, but adults know the grey areas and how to assess and manipulate them.  Psychologists tell us that children reach a certain age (usually between ages 5-7) at which they understand right from wrong, and can consciously comprehend that performing a bad action will result in punitive outcomes.  This is called the “Age of Accountability.”  The important point about this is that, once you cross over into the land of experience and wisdom, there is no returning to your innocence.  One does not simply “forget” what is right and wrong, and there is no way to erase this understanding (unless you have a brain injury, etc.).

To add to this idea, we will read in Gilgamesh that Enkidu, the wild Nature-boy created to be Gilgamesh’s companion, will cross over from nature to civilization through an initiation ritual, and there will be no chance of returning to a wild, uncultured state.  A different translation of the epic tells us that Enkidu’s “wisdom made him weak.”  What?  We have been taught that “knowledge is power,” and it is.  However, how we use this power will determine the appropriateness of our actions.  In other words, as soon as we come to an understanding or a realization about something, we then must cope with these scary truths about life.

For example, the first time you realized that you will one day die, you were forced to face this reality, much like Inanna faces those three demons in the huluppu-tree.  Once you learn how to lie to another person, then you know that deception can be an important tool to get what you want (smart people are the most dangerous).  This does not condone the action, but it is what happens inside all of our heads.  Once you realize the ugly realities about life, then we must wrestle with the fears and anxieties about aging, dying, or even living life.  When we were young, we seemed immortal and indestructible.  As we get older, we realize that we are frail, weak, and at the mercy of our world.  Perhaps this is what is happening with the eagle -- he is fearful that the serpent might strike first or fearful of starvation (we are never told directly), so he acts on his fears and impulses.  A little kid doesn’t think twice about putting his hand inside the tiger’s cage, but an adult is fearful that the cage may not be strong enough to contain the beast.  Ah, the bliss of innocence!

Back to the story ....  The serpent returns to his nest, only to find that the eagle has killed his young.  The serpent cried up to Shamash, the sun god, and begs him to enact justice on the evil bird.  If nothing is done, the serpent knows that the “punishment due to you [the eagle] would revert to me” (195).  In other words, someone must pay, and the serpent knows that it will not be him!

Shamash instructs the serpent to hide himself inside the carcass of a bull.  When the eagle enters to pick through the entrails, the serpent will be able to lurch out and attack his tormentor.  Once again, the children of the eagle see through the trap, and they tell their dad to avoid the carcass, but you can guess what happens.  The eagle is bitten by the serpent, and his wings are clipped, grounding him and removing his special features.  Ironically, this is when the eagle pleads to Shamash himself for assistance.  The eagle exclaims that he will “broadcast your [Shamash’s] fame for eternity” if  allowed to recover.  Is this some kind of selfish ploy to acquire Shamash’s mercy?

Interestingly, Shamash offers the eagle help -- not directly, but in the form of the king, Etana, who will travel from a distant land to meet and help the eagle.  Do you think that Shamash fell for the flattery?  Why does Shamash not simply kill the eagle?  Simple -- one cannot kill an intermediary.  If we were to kill the eagle, then who would help us to be lifted up to heaven?  The eagle will be given a second chance, as it must.  As a symbol of divinity, the eagle cannot be grounded.

Etana himself is on a quest to discover the “plant of birth,” since he has been unable to bear a child with his wife.  He is told by Shamash that he can find this secret if he tends to the eagle.  Once healed, the eagle flies around looking for the flower, but is unable to locate it.  He then carries Etana upwards in the sky.  After an ascent of three miles high, Etana becomes fearful, and he asks the eagle to bring him back down to earth.  The eagle shrugs his shoulders, casting Etana down through the air. 

On several occasions, the eagle swoops under Etana, catching him before impact.  What in the world is the eagle doing?  Is he teasing Etana or trying to intimidate him?  Or is he proving that he is indeed trustworthy, since he is constantly saving Etana’s life from the free fall?  Both are valid, but ultimately, the eagle carries Etana to the sky, so we must assume that his intentions are at least somewhat favorable.  Etana meets with the gods, and he is given his wish, bearing a son to assume his throne.  Unfortunately, the text is broken, so we don’t know the content of their discussions.

Several morals to this story include “listen to your children,” “avoid wrongdoing,” “don’t trust others blindly,” “crime does not pay,” etc.  Notice that Etana and the eagle need each other to redeem themselves and to achieve the things that they desire.  Etana did not have to heal the wounded, villainous bird, and the eagle was not forced to repay Etana with a trip to the skies.  Sometimes, we need to work with bad people to attain our own greatness.  Light side, meet the dark side.
 

Adapa

This four-page story is filled with philosophical wonder.  Born to provide civilization with wisdom, Adapa provides both physical and spiritual guidance to his people.  One day, while fishing, a fierce storm attacks his boat, which sinks.  Battling the waves and the rain, Adapa “curses” the South Wind (remember that the southerly winds were unfavorable in Mesopotamia, since they forced the salt water upstream).  Suddenly, the wind (and therefore the storm) ceases.  However, this makes Anu very upset (upon discovering the lack of wind a full week later), and he summons Adapa to heaven to answer for his actions.

Once again, we see Ea (Enki) assisting Adapa, much like he has done with Inanna and others.  Surprisingly, Ea tells Adapa to wear funeral clothes and to inform the gatekeepers of the sky god Anu that Adapa is mourning them.  The scene transpires just as Ea had said that it would.  Interestingly, one of the things that Ea advises Adapa not to do is to accept the food and water of eternity from Anu.  When Adapa is asked to accept these gifts, he refuses them, just as he was told, and therefore loses his opportunity for eternal life (and, as a representative of all of us humans, he also refuses eternal life for all of us as well).

Why is Adapa told to refuse a gift from heaven?  One would think that a gift from heaven would be the ultimate blessing -- but herein lies the problem.  Did Ea set Adapa up for an embarrassing failure?  Did Ea counsel Adapa unwisely?  If so, why?  We discussed this in class. 

Many students concluded that man was not intended for eternal life, so it simply had to be this way.  Others thought that Adapa should have ignored the advice and accept the bread and water of eternal life.  However, if Adapa strayed from the command of the gods, won’t that result in an even worse penalty?  In other words, should Adapa listen to his father Ea, the sky god Anu, or his own conscience?  Pick your poison. 

Ultimately, maybe Ea does tell Adapa to refuse the gifts for the good of humanity.  As we will see in Atrahasis, overpopulation was a big problem to this culture, and the gods forces several methods of birth control on the humans, such as sterility, to subdue this menace.  If Adapa were granted eternal life, then might ALL people seek the same gift?  If that were to have occurred, then we would have starved due to our overpopulation.  Maybe, when Ea asked Adapa to wear his funeral cloak, he was really asking Adapa to dress for his own funeral.

Nobody really knows the answer to this question, but it does resemble the Adam and Eve story, where the first humans were confronted with the prospect of the wisdom of life and death -- but for a steep price.  Perhaps all of these stories help us to see that we cannot be gods, and if we get too close to the other worlds, then we are crossing the wrong boundaries.

Recall as well that someone who accepts a gift from the underworld also accepts death, since that person would have made a decision to leave earthly life in favor of the next.  Well, if one accepts gifts from heaven, won’t that also imply a death?  And, since the Mesopotamians did not believe in an afterlife, then ANY acceptance of gifts not of the earth will jeopardize our very existence.  Maybe we are darned if we do and darned if we don’t (or something similar).  In the Sumerian language, dozens of puns occur in our readings, and one of them applies here.

If you recall from a week or two ago, we learned from Joseph Campbell that geography is the primary force that shapes a culture’s views of the universe.  Campbell mentioned that desert-dwelling societies used imagery of the sky, because it was a dominant force acting upon them, whereas a jungle community does not incorporate horizons, stars, or suns and moons, since their reality is locked into a more limited perspective.  However, Campbell neglected to mention another barrier that may be preventing you from “getting” these myths -- language.

Because we don’t speak Sumerian, we’re not getting the puns and language jokes.  For example, the Sumerian word for “heaven” also had a second meaning -- “death.”  Much like English words have multiple meanings (such as “right,” “love,” etc.), so do these early cultures.  If “heaven” and “death” mean the same thing, then we can start to see that Adapa cannot accept the gifts of heaven, since that would mean he has to die (which is apparently akin to immortality).  Remember that the names of characters mean little to you, but the Mesopotamians saw these double meanings, and they had lots of fun with their language, just like we do.  That’s why we don’t see the metaphors as clearly as they would have seen them 5,000 years ago (although we use many of them all the time, such as the “fly on the wall” metaphor that we saw in The Descent of Inanna).

We completed our look at this story by examining the picture in the coursepacket on the reading guide for this story (page 124).  The double-serpent symbol represents Dumuzi and Gizzida, who is Ningishzida.  As I explained in the reading guide, they are early versions of cherubim (angels), such as the ones that guard the Garden of Eden with the flaming sword.  In fact, Dumuzi and Gizzida parallel the two trees in the Garden of Eden (the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and the Tree of life).  The middle of this picture shows two serpents wrapped around a pole.  This is a classic representation of the merging of the dualities.  The stake represents the masculine forces, while the serpents reflect the circular, flexible feminine ideals.  When combined, the union of these dualities represents healing or life.  The modern medical symbol (especially for paramedics) is based on this very symbolism.  So, we can see that this story helps to connect many characters and stories from this region, adding to our understanding of the myths through their commonalities.  I address this further in the Egyptian unit.
 

Ningishzida's Journey to the Nether World

Although there isn't a lot of plot here to consider, this story provides some additional examples of why characters enter the Underworld. In this tale, Ningishzida is summoned to board the barge to the Underworld in the opening paragraph, an indication that he has died and that he has been called to his fate down below. He has two sisters who beg to board the barge with him, an apparent reference to the survivors wishing to be with their loved ones. throughout human history, stories abound of widows who cast themselves into their deceased husbands' graves, and in ancient India many women immolated themselves on their husband's funeral pyre, since the Hindu customs prevented them from owning any property once their husband died, leaving them relegated to a life of extreme poverty.

Notice that a demon operates the ship and calls Ningishzida aboard. Remember that a daemon (or demon) is an intermediary. A demon is capable of passing beyond the boundaries that constrain the rest of us. Be being able to pass through into a different realm (such as heavens, underworld, etc.) is a powerful and impressive ability, relegated only for the most profound of creatures. Mortals pass through only at the moment of death, but the gods may do so freely, making them intermediaries as well. Enki, Inanna, and Nergal all descend into the Underworld, and all return, albeit under different conditions. Likewise, the demons can transcend the boundaries as well, and they are not evil unless they are identified as such. The beginning of the last paragraph on page 104 is one such example of an "evil demon." Unless they are called evil, they are not, although they can be scary when you encounter them!

On page 105, Ningishzida compares himself to baled flax or barley that has been cut (harvested) and tied together, suggesting a connection of this character to fertility. It also reaffirms that death is simply part of the life cycle, perhaps explaining why Ningishzida so willingly complies with the demon's requests. In Western traditions, once someone sees the Grim Reaper, that person must already be dead, so why fight it?

The sisters bribe the demon to allow them to accompany their brother, and the demon tells the drivers to stop pulling away from the quay. Ninazu, however, stops the boat as it attempts to enter the Underworld and announces that his mother Ereshkigal has pardoned them.

A Hymn to E-Kur

The only points I made about this hymn is that the Underworld is being praised (it's a hymn, after all). As well as being referred to as a "Great House" and a "Mountain," it is also called the "Gate of Well-being" and "The house that comes forth like daylight." Things come out of the Underworld as the gods ordain, including the sun and the moon, which appear to rise out of the Eastern mountain range if you are standing in Sumeria. The Underworld is then said to contain "full grandeur" and "aromatic cedars," suggesting that it is a place of life, not death.

A Hymn to Nungal

This hymn is a much later addition to the Underworld cycle of stories, and it shows a changing perspective over time regarding the purpose and power of the Underworld. In other stories, we read that the gods of the Underworld were also called "judges," such as the Anunna (or Anunnaki) gods, including An, Enlil, and Enki. Judgment of the soul, however, is not a Sumerial ideal. We don't even see it in Egypt until after the fall of Sumeria.

In this hymn, Nungal, a daughter of Ereshkigal, is in charge (showing the passing of time), but her approach is far more gentle and forgiving than was her mother's. Although the hymn opens with some violent descriptions of the Underworld, including references to storms, prisons, dragons, and daggers, it presents Nungal as a caring and fair judge of deeds. Evil-doers will be punished by being cast into oblivion ("destruction"), whereas the righteous will be sentences to death, but "will not be killed," suggesting that the Underworld wasn't that bad a place to go anyway. Of course, we don't get this mentality of judging the dead until after the great law codes were written, telling us that judgment would pertain to these laws, since the laws of Nature simply say that we all die the same -- good or bad, we still face the exact same fate. In the next unit, we will see how human laws became the sacred standards to which mortals are judged.

Announcements:

Test Reminders

See the Study Guide for details. You will be asked to provide written answers to six total questions that cover the Age of Taurus unit. The test is open-book and open-note, so bring all of your materials.

Remember that the best answers begin with a clear answer to the question and are well-supported by discussion and references to the readings that defend your thesis. Since I will be asking you questions that are open-ended and that test your comprehension, there will be many possible answer directions that can be strong. There is no multiple-choice, and I will not ask you any objective questions (such as "Who is Inanna's father?"). I want to see how you are assessing the mythological motifs in this literature.

I am not interested in tricking you. I will ask you big, obvious questions that pertain to the most important ideas from this unit. Your careful articulation of your understanding will determine your grade, not knowledge of randomly selected nit-picky answers. You can predict many of these questions by simply looking st the Study Guide. I will ask you about some of the concepts listed in the terminology listing, and I will ask you about as many stories as possible. You may be asked to answer a question about one particular story, whereas other questions will ask you to discuss what you like from the whole unit. I also may ask you a question that is inspired by Campbell's The Power of Myth, but all questions will relate to the literature selections, not Campbell's text.

Extended Office Hours

Next week I will be available for additional office hours, allowing you opportunities to come and see me. The hours will be an open-door policy, and I will not take any appointments. Stop by, knock on the door (HU 139), and come on in. Of course, I will gladly answer questions via e-mail as well. Here are the additional hours:

 

MON 30 JAN:		11:00 AM - 1:45 PM
WED 1 FEB:		11:00 AM - 1:45 PM
THU 2 FEB:		9:00 AM - 3:00 PM

Due Next Time:

The following readings are due (to be read before entering class on Friday). The documents highlighted in dark red are required readings. Please print them, annotate them, and bring them to class.

The remaining titles are supplemental, and are not required to print or read. I will not quiz or test you on them, but reviewing them will give you a deeper and more complete understanding of the concepts introduced in the main required titles.

We will begin the day with the test, then cover the following readings.

There is no quiz next week since we are taking a test.

 

TEST 1: The Age of Taurus

TEST 1 Study Guide

Unit 2 Readings:

Theogony of Dunnu (Dalley, 278-281); READING GUIDE (128)

The Rulers of Lagash (129-130)

The Real Rulers of Lagash (131)

The Sumerian King List (132-140)

The Cursing of Agade (141-146)

The Victory of Utu-hegal (147-148)

A Praise Poem of Ur-Namma (149-150)

A Praise Poem of Shulgi (151-152)

Letter from Aradgu to Shulgi about Apillaca (153)

Letter from Shulgi to Aradgu about Apillaca (154)

A Balbale to Inanna for Shu-Suen (155)