Chapter Two
Creation and Meaning

The Creation of Humans

There is no single unified, surviving Sumerian creation epic. Their ideas of the beginning of the world must be pieced together from many separate accounts. This chapter will not discuss the creation of the universe or the origins of the gods; the beginning of the gods will be included in the more detailed look at their nature in the final chapter.

The creation of humans is clearly an important event for understanding the nature of human life. Humans were created to serve the gods, that the gods might be able to go about their duties in leisure and have their needs provided for. One story begins by describing how the gods used to have to work for their own sustenance, bake their own bread and dig their own canals, which displeased them mightily. They complained, and basically went on strike, refusing to work and insisting that Enki create a new being to perform these tasks. It was Nammu, Enki's mother, who brought news of these demands to him. She said to him:

"My son, rise from your bed,
and when you
with your ingenuity
have searched out
the (required) skill
and you have fashioned
a fill-in worker
for the gods,
may they get loose
of their digging!" (Jacobsen 1987, 155)

Enki agreed to organize this deed. People were made directly from the clay, and given birth by the goddesses. In this way, humans were created to be servants of the gods. It was the gods' dislike of toil and hardship that caused them to have the inspiration for humanity. Humans were formed in many ways in the image of the gods, thus making them capable of doing the work necessary. The creation of humanity came about from a specific decision of the gods, and humans have a clear purpose in life. This purpose, serving the gods, is what gives shape and meaning to humanity.

This purpose was indeed carried out during the daily life of a Mesopotamian city. As was discussed in Chapter One, the gods dwelled, in the form of statues, in their houses at the center of the cities. These statues were cared for by the priests. Each city was ruled by a specific god, who owned most of the land in there. This land was worked by humans, and the produce of the land went to feed and clothe the gods. These myths describe a creation of humanity exactly in keeping with the actual lives of the Sumerians.

Another account of the beginning of humanity does not include the details of the process, but is clear on the reason why.

Because the name of Ashnan [the grain goddess], the wise, and Lahar, (the cattle-god),
The Anunnaki, the great gods, did not know,
The shesh-grain of thirty days did not exist,
The shesh-grain of forty days did not exist,
The small grains, the grain of the mountain, the grain of the pure living creatures did not exist.

Because Uttu had not been born, because the crown (of vegetation?) had not been raised,
Because the lord... had not been born,
Because Sumugan, the god of the plain, had not come forth,
Like mankind when first created,
They (the Anunnaki) knew not the eating of bread,
Knew not the dressing of garments,
Ate plants with their mouths like sheep,
Drank water from the ditch.

In those days, in the creation chamber of the gods,
In their house Duku, Lahar and Ashnan were fashioned;
The produce of Lahar and Ashnan,
The Anunnaki of the Duku eat, but remain unsated;
In their pure sheepfolds shum-milk, the good,
The Anunnaki of the Duku drink, but remain unsated;
For the sake of their pure sheepfolds, the good,
Man was given breath. (Kramer 1956, 108-109)

Before the deities of clothing and farming existed, the gods had no clothing and produced no food. They ate wild plants and drank water as they found it, the same as animals and as the first humans. They first began to lift themselves out of this position by creating cattle and grain. After this, they had milk to drink and better food to eat, but they still "remain unsated." And so, to care for the grain and the cattle, and the sheepfolds, man was created. The rest of the poem describes how the benefits brought by Lahar and Ashnan were given also to humans, and how the gods sent them down to earth to bring abundance. At this point, all the trappings of culture had been created for the use of gods and humans. A life of leisure went only to the gods, however; humans gained civilization in order to toil for the gods. Humans and gods alike wear clothing and eat cooked food, but humans are the ones who raise the animals and crops, make the clothing, and prepare the food. This is one of the key differences between humans and gods.

There are other differences between the life of a human and a god. Gods do not age and die, nor do they normally fall sick or sustain injuries. Yet humans do. What is the source of these aspects of human life? Why did the gods add these facets to human nature? One answer is found in the continuation of the first story told above. After humans were created, the gods held a feast to celebrate. Enki and Ninmah indulged in a little too much alcohol, and started a contest with each other. Ninmah decided to make some abnormal and imperfect humans, to test Enki by having him think up ways to integrate them into human society. She said:

"How good or how bad is man's body (really)?
As my heart prompts me, I can make its lot good or (make it) bad." (Jacobsen 1976, 162)

She shaped from the clay seven new humans, seven types of flawed being. Enki came up with places for all of them, so that they might be fed.

When Enki had looked
the "Man-unable-to-close-the-shaking-hand-upon-an-arrow-shaft-to-send-it-going" over
he determined a way for it to be,
had it stand at attention
by the head of the king.

[When] Enki had looked
the "One-handing-back-the-lamp-to-the-men-who-can-see"
he determined a way for it to be,
he allotted to it
the musical arts
had it sit . . . on the long side
in front of the king.

When En[ki] had lo[oked]
the "Hobbled-by-twisting-ankles" over,
he [taught](?) it the work
of metal casters and silversmiths,
and . . . . . . . . (Jacobsen 1987, 159-160)

It makes sense that, as humans are to be workers for the gods, the gods would want humans to be competent and able workers, strong, clever, skilled. These beings who are flawed and not able to work must not become liabilities in the overall endeavor of caring for the gods. They must somehow be made into productive members of society. This was accomplished in the case of the beings that Ninmah created.

Then Enki set about making something to challenge Ninmah. He created a being that seems to have had every possible illness. Ninmah could think of nothing to do with this creature. He could not speak to her, or take from her the bread she offered him, or even move to the bed she made for him. There was no way to integrate him into productive society. However, once this being was created, the weaknesses it brought became a permanent part of human life. The word and the making of the gods cannot be taken back. There is nothing that can be done to erase these illnesses and deformities.

In this story, malformation and other ills were not part of the original plan of the gods. Their plan was for healthy, productive workers. But they went ahead and made unhealthy and unproductive workers as well, driven by their emotions and by their drinking. The cleverness of Enki could fix some of the problems that humans gained, but was also the source of the more unpleasant ones. In his attempt to prove how skillful he was, cleverness got the better of wisdom and the human race has ever since been suffering from it. All things in this world, the bad as well as the good, stem from the gods.

The gods, for all their awesome divinity, are not perfect, at least by modern standards. They do not always live up to what people would see as ideal behavior. They can get drunk, and act rashly, and behave immorally. They have their "bad" qualities, at least when looked at by human standards, and so can also create "bad" things, such as flawed humans, and types of suffering. However, it is not necessarily appropriate to hold the gods to human standards. They have their own standards, and their own plans.

The Divine Plan

The Sumerian word "me" stands for the concept of the divine laws and structure of the world. It can be used to describe skills and attributes, or areas of culture and existence. The most commonly used translations into English seem to be 'divine decree' and 'divine law.' Halloran (2001) defines it as "function, office, responsibility; ideal norm; the phenomenal area of a deity's power; divine decree (p.12)." The me are clearly associated with the gods; each me has a god to control it, and each god has at least one me to rule over. The me order and structure the universe. This concept could be compared to such things as Plato's Ideals, and the Hindu idea of dharma. The me are not described as being created by the gods, but they are also not described as being a power higher than the gods, which they must obey. The me include "good" as well as "bad" things. They include many opposites and contradictions, the things that need each other in order to be.

Further elaboration of the me can be found, among other places, in a story about Enki and Inanna. In this story, Inanna goes to visit Enki in his domain. He welcomes her, spreading out food and drink for her. They sit down to eat together and, as in the last story, get a little deep in their cups. Enki, who has guardianship over the me, begins to gift them to Inanna. She, of course, accepts them all. Listing them later, she says:

He gave me truth.
He gave me descent into the underworld.
He gave me ascent from the underworld.
He gave me the kurgarra.

He gave me the dagger and sword.
He gave me the black garment.
He gave me the colorful garment.
He gave me the loosening of the hair.
He gave me the binding of the hair.

He gave me the art of forthright speech.
He gave me the art of slanderous speech.
He gave me the art of adorning speech.
He gave me the cult prostitute.
He gave me the holy tavern.

He gave me the art of the hero.
He gave me the art of power.
He gave me the art of treachery.
He gave me the art of straightforwardness.
He gave me the plundering of cities.
He gave me the setting up of lamentations.
He gave me the rejoicing of the heart.

He gave me the kindling of strife.
He gave me counseling.
He gave me heart-soothing.
He gave me the giving of judgments.
He gave me the making of decisions. (Wolkstein & Kramer 1983, 16-18)

This is only a small portion of the listing of the me, but it serves to get across the scope of the divine laws. All ways of being are included. Truth and falsehood, rebellion and obedience, happiness and sorrow, love and hate. Anything that people can see in the world around them, in the society around them, things good and bad, things important and trivial, are included in the divine me. Kingship is there, lamentation is there, the binding of the hair is there.

Another facet of the divine law is that it is unalterable. This was seen above, in the fact that after Ninmah and Enki had created flawed humans, these flaws became permanently embedded in the nature of humanity. New things can be created, or at least could be at the beginning of time, but it is harder to destroy things. The way to fix a problem is through further creation, such as the creation of a role in society for the flawed humans. Even though the Sumerians believed that all things such as a human life or the rule of a king are of limited duration, this belief did not apply to the universe itself. There is no mention anywhere in the surviving material of a belief that the world might, could, or would end. The me, too, are eternal, for they are the structure of the universe and the laws of its multiple facets.

The gods' decisions can shift, as they pursue one course of action and then another. However, they are supposed to be truthful, honest, and honorable, and not go back on their word. An example of this comes from later in the story of Inanna gaining the me from Enki. He eventually returns to his sober state and looks around his realm, and is surprised when he notices that the me are missing; he doesn't remember giving them away. He asks his minister Isimud what has happened to the me. Isimud informs him that he gave them all to Inanna. Enki then sends Isimud off to retrieve the me from Inanna, so that he may be in control of them again. Isimud comes upon Inanna, and tells her that he has a message from Enki.

"O my queen, your father has sent me to you,
O Inanna, your father has sent me to you,
Your father, exalted is his speech,
Enki, exalted is his utterance,
His great words are not to go unheeded."

Holy Inanna answers him:
"My father, what has he spoken to you, what has he said to you?
His great words that are not to go unheeded, what, pray, are they?"

"My king has spoken to me,
Enki has said to me:
'Let Inanna go to Erech,
But you, bring me back the Boat of Heaven to Eridu.'"

Holy Inanna says to the messenger Isimud:
"My father, why, pray, has he changed his word to me?
Why has he broken his righteous word to me?
Why has he defiled his great words to me?
My father has spoken to me falsely, has spoken to me falsely,
Falsely has he sworn by the name of his power, by the name of the Abzu." (Kramer 1956, 99)

Inanna very cleverly traps Enki in his honor here. She knows that he did not plan to give her the me in advance; she knows that it was not a well thought out decision. However, he did indeed say that she could take them, and even his messenger insists that his words are great, and must be heeded. She is then able to claim that, indeed, his great words that are not to go unheeded are the words he spoke when he gave her the me. And, even though Isimud attempts to take the me back by force, Inanna's own minister, Ninshubur, manages to fight him off each time. Inanna is able to hold on to the me until she arrives at her own city of Uruk (alternately spelled Erech), and in the end Enki gives up his final claim to them, allowing her to keep them. This is another example of a god making a mistake, and then having to live with the unalterable consequences of that mistake. Even when not originally part of the plan, once a god has acted or spoken, that new act or speech then becomes part of the divine plan. It seems paradoxical, or at least illogical, that the gods can make mistakes, and that the gods are always right; that the gods' words cannot be altered, and that the gods can change their minds. Each of these things is, however, stated in the Sumerian material, and religion has no dictate to be logical.

What happens, then, when the gods go against each other? What happens when they disagree? And what happens if they decide to attempt to undo their own handiwork by drastic measures?

The Flood

The first great disaster visited upon humanity after its initial creation was the Flood. The Sumerian Flood story is known from one tablet only, and is rather fragmentary. It is generally filled out through reference to later Akkadian and Babylonian versions. This story begins with a (missing) description of the creation of the world and humanity, and then tells how kingship and society were set up by the gods so that humans could be more productive and live in cities. This, too, is framed as a benefit to the gods. Nintur thinks to herself:

"May they come and build cities and cult places,
that I may cool myself in their shade;
may they lay the bricks for the cult cities
in pure spots, and
may they found places for divination
in pure spots!" (Jacobsen 1987, 145)

After the description of the institution of kingship, there follows a break, and when the story resumes, the decision has already been made to bring the flood.

That day Nin[tur] wept over her creatures
and holy Inanna [was full] of grief over their people;
but Enki to[ok] counsel with his own heart.
An, Enlil, Enki, and Ninhursaga
had the gods of heaven and earth [swear]
by the names An and Enlil. (Jacobsen 1987, 147)

Enki, however, despite his oath, arranges to get knowledge of the Flood to Ziusudra, king of Shuruppak. During his instructions to Ziusudra, he speaks of a kingship being "uprooted" (Jacobsen 1987, 148), but the text there is fragmentary, and one cannot tell whether he is referring to the human kings who are about to be destroyed in the Flood, or to An and Enlil, who he disobeys. The Flood rises up and sweeps over the land for seven days and seven nights, destroying the cities and human civilization. Ziusudra survives it in his boat, along with many animals. When the Flood recedes, he steps from the boat and offers sacrifice to the gods. After another lacuna, the gods grant to him eternal life, and he goes to live in Dilmun.

This partial telling of the story is very similar in outline to the later, more complete versions that can be found. There is a decision to bring about the flood, one man builds a boat and escapes destruction, and then he is given eternal life. However, this version of the story lacks many important details, especially surrounding the gods' motivations. It is not clear why the gods wished to bring about the Flood and destroy humanity. What had humans done to make the gods so angry? It is also not clear which gods decided to bring the flood, and whether it was all of them or only some. While they all seem to have sworn to the action, some of them must clearly have disagreed. Enki must disapprove, or he would not act counter to his oath. Nintur and Inanna are described as weeping over the fate of their people. Are they weeping over the impending destruction by floodwaters? Or are they weeping over some earlier incident, perhaps the one that angered the gods? Why do the gods decide in the end to grant eternal life to Ziusudra? Isn't granting him eternal life a violation of human nature, which as a creation and decision of the gods ought to be inviolable? How is it that Enki can break his sworn word not to reveal the plan to any human? He reveals it to Ziusudra in a vision, but he does not clearly seem to use the same ruse he does in the Akkadian version, where he speaks to a wall and lets him overhear it.

This version also lacks the later version's description of the gods' own fear and hunger during the Flood; but it may be present, for the sections that would contain it, if it were there, are among the missing pieces. It is true that the first thing Ziusudra does when he leaves his boat is offer sacrifice to the gods, and it makes sense to imagine that the gods, who do rely on people for their food, would be hungry after seven days and nights. Since that concept fits in with Sumerian ideas, it seems reasonable to assume that it was present in the Akkadian version because it was present in the Sumerian one. If bringing about the Flood did result in hardship for the gods, it wasn't a very wise decision. Did the gods not stop to remember the reason they had created humans? The Sumerian story does not record the other gods' initial response to Enki's action; it does not say whether they were angered or pleased that a human had survived. In the Akkadian version, Enki (or Ea, as he was called then) berates Enlil for causing the flood, saying in essence that he went too far, and over-reacted.

"You, the sage of the gods, the hero,
how could you lack counsel and bring on the Deluge?

On him who transgresses, inflict his crime!
On him who does wrong, inflict his wrongdoing!
Slack off, lest it snap! Pull tight, lest it [slacken!]

Instead of your causing the Deluge,
a lion could have risen, and diminished the people!
Instead of your causing the Deluge,
a wolf could have risen, and diminished the people!

Instead of your causing the Deluge,
A famine could have happened, and slaughtered the land!
Instead of your causing the Deluge,
The Plague God could have risen, and slaughtered the land!" (George 1999, 95)

The gods have many methods at their disposal for punishing unruly humans: famine, plague, animal attacks, and so on. Enlil could have solved the problem, dealt with the situation, in a more restrained and righteous manner but he went overboard, killing off all humans when it would have been enough merely to lower their numbers. (In that version, the Flood was caused because humans were overrunning the land and disturbing the gods with their excessive clamor; thus, culling them would have solved the problem easily enough.) Even the gods are capable of overreacting to a situation, and they are not always clear-headed when they make their decisions. The Akkadian Enlil seems to have failed to think through the consequences of his action. He did not try to imagine what the Flood would do to the other gods, who were frightened and disturbed by it. It may be that the Sumerian Enlil did the same. In the end, indeed, instead of killing Ziusudra, and completing the attempt to destroy humanity, they relent and allow humanity to re-grow.

This story is full of the gods changing their minds. First, they create humans; then, they decide to get rid of humans. However, at least one god disagrees, and wishes to keep humans. When a human does survive the Flood, the other gods change their mind again, wishing to allow him to live, and even granting him eternal life. In a way, it seems capricious and shallow. And yet in another way it shows wisdom; even if they make mistakes, at least the gods seem to learn from their mistakes.

Some of human suffering seems to be due to the gods' human-like qualities: their love of drink, their emotions and tempers, their quarrels and contests. They can act rashly, in haste, without fully considering the consequences of their actions. They can have different goals from each other, and humans can get caught in the middle.

However, humans have a certain protection against the gods. Human life is not meaningless. Humans were created for a reason and a purpose. The gods need humans. If the gods ever let themselves get out of hand, they are quickly reminded of the fact that they rely on humanity for their sustenance. In this way, people can rest assured that the gods cannot wreak too much havoc without also suffering the consequences themselves. And the gods certainly do not like to suffer.

link to Chapter Three