Gilgamesh by Stephen Mitchell

the pitch blackness, and he exits just as the sun is setting.This is a symbolic death and rebirth, in which he passes through the darkness of an underworld and emerges into the dazzling,
Arabian Nights-
like garden of the gods.
    But in its effects, it is not much of a rebirth. Gilgamesh is the same anguished, violent man he was before. Indeed, when he meets Shiduri the tavern keeper, he looks so murderous that she runs into her tavern and locks herself in. Gilgamesh deals with this by threatening to smash down the door. Force is still his automatic reaction-the way he responds to the world.
    Shiduri is a strange character: a matron, possibly a goddess, who brews beer in a tavern at the edge of the ocean, apparently for those rare customers who can outrace the sun. She is frightened but curious, and from the roof asks Gilgamesh questions about his appearance and his destination that are repeated later in the poem. Gilgamesh once again gives eloquent voice to his grief. “Shouldn’t my heart be filled with anguish?” he cries out.
    â€œMy friend, my brother, whom I loved so dearly, who accompanied me through every danger-Enkidu, my brother, whom I loved so dearly, who accompanied me through every danger-the fate of mankind has overwhelmed him. For six days I would not let him be buried, thinking, ‘If my grief is violent enough, perhaps he will come back to life again.’ For six days and seven nights I mourned him,until a maggot fell out of his nose. Then I was afraid, I was frightened by death, and I set out to roam the wilderness. I cannot bear what happened to my friend-I cannot bear what happened to Enkidu-so I roam the wilderness in my grief. How can my mind have any rest? My beloved friend has turned into clay-my beloved Enkidu has turned into clay. And won’t I too lie down in the dirt like him, and never arise again?”
    This speech is as palpable and moving as his lament in Book VIII.
    Shiduri sends him on to the next stage of his journey, but not before giving him a charming piece of conventional wisdom that can do him no earthly good. (No advice can. He needs to come to wisdom by himself.)
    â€œSavor your food, make each of your days a delight, bathe and anoint yourself, wear bright clothes that are sparkling clean, let music and dancing fill your house, love the child who holds you by the hand, and give your wife pleasure in your embrace. That is the best way for a man to live.”
    But Gilgamesh is incapable of enjoyment; he must persevere until he finds Utnapishtim. Shiduri tells him that the only man who can help is Urshanabi, Utnapishtim’s boatman. If Gilgamesh asks, perhaps Urshanabi will sail him across the vast ocean in his boat, crewed by the Stone Men, who are invulnerable to the Waters of Death.
    Instead of being civil to the man on whom everything now depends, Gilgamesh proceeds with the senseless, self-defeating violence he is used to: he attacks Urshanabi and smashes the Stone Men to pieces. Fortunately for him, however, Urshanabi is a genial, forgiving fellow, who proposes an alternative method of crossing the Waters of Death, using punting poles instead of the demolished Stone Men. They sail “without stopping, for three days and nights, / a six weeks’ journey for ordinary men,” cross the Waters of Death, and finally land on the shore where Utnapishtim is waiting. Gilgamesh doesn’t realize it yet, but he is standing face to face with the man who is his last hope.
WHEN THERE’S NO WAY OUT, YOU JUST FOLLOW THE WAY INFRONT OF YOU
    T he archetypal hero’s journey proceeds in stages: being called to action, meeting a wise man or guide, crossing the threshold into the numinous world of the adventure, passing various tests, attaining the goal, defeating the forces of evil, and going back home. It leadsto a spiritual transformation at the end, a sense of gratitude, humility, and deepened trust in the intelligence of the universe. After he finds