Thursday, July 24, 2008

Reflections on Atrahasis

I'd like to go beyond the parallels between Atrahasis and the Biblical tradition, as intriguing as some of them are. I suspect that there are nuggets of truth embedded in there, which could enhance our understanding of Noah and Enoch, but I am not yet equipped to dig them out from amidst the rubble.

One of the things I teach my students about the Mesopotamians is that their literature tends to focus on the gods, with the humans more or less nameless slaves to the gods. Gilgamesh is an exception, but then he is also 2/3 god, 1/3 human. Here, Atrahasis is the only named human, and the only human who really acts, but even then he acts according to the behest of Enki. The real struggle in this work is between Enki and Ellil. Even when the flood comes, it is the gods' sufferings because of it that are discussed; the humans are merely victims of a great catastrophe. This provides a very interesting viewpoint for human literature, especially since this is one of the earliest surviving pieces of human literature.

For me, the question that all great literature answers is, what does it teach us about the nature of the human experience. If it answers such a question, then we can look to that work as a source of wisdom for our sojourn on this earth. On an emotional level, this work seems to portray a genuine feeling of helplessness vis-a-vis the supernatural, and perhaps even the natural (the two seem to be intertwined among the Mesopotamians). Atrahasis seems to be simply more fortunate than everyone else in surviving the flood - the beneficiary of a power struggle between Enki and Ellil. This is certainly a pessimistic view of human nature - even the creation of humans was simply a means of transferring the work load from the gods to a lesser form of being. I am compelled to wonder at the achievements of a civilization with such a view. Why make any great effort to build up cities and empires, produce music and art, write literature or keep records, when it is all so fleeting. I was particularly struck by the line "Reject possessions, and save living things." Not only is this a true principle, but for people who value humans so little, it is downright surprising. I would expect these people to say, "Hey, live it up now, because the gods could cause it all to come crashing down tomorrow." If they can value our humanity, we should definitely be able to do so.

Further to that thought is the end of the poem which reveals an attempt to understand something which is so much rarer in our world: infant mortality. I don't know what the infant mortality rate in the modern United States is, but I'm sure it is a lot lower than 33%. Perhaps seeing it as a decree of the gods made it less devastating to think about, but such notice in a text also suggests that they did value those infants and were sad to see them not survive.

My last thought on this book regards the times of famine designed to depopulate the earth. As the famine got worse and worse, the people devolved into cannibalism. I can only wonder how I myself might react to such a situation - how much food could have been available after 6 years of famine? If people didn't resort to cannibalism, then even more people would die - is the right choice then for everyone to give up and die, or should the strong do whatever it takes to survive? Of course, Abraham and Joseph lived during and survived times of famine, so perhaps we must simply learn to rely on the Lord.

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