THE MATTER OF ARATTA1: AN OVERVIEW

0. One of the characteristic features of the classical Sumerian literary system, which may be taken roughly to coincide with the III and Old Babylonian periods2, is that it shows a number of rather well-defined clusters of compositions dealing with related or identical subject matter, and treating these matters in a typologically or generically comparable way3. One of these clusters may be called the Matter of Aratta4. This Matter of consists of three or four5 relatively long nar- rative poems treating the conflict between the House of and the House of Aratta, or between their respective rulers viz. and EnSUÎkesdana6. In every case the tale is really about the resolution, by peaceful means, of this conflict.

1 The gist of this contribution was first presented to students of at the Department of Near Eastern Studies, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, on December 2, 1993. I wish to thank Prof. dr. J.S. Cooper and his department for his gracious invita- tion and the students for their helpful responses. 2 There is no encompassing history or even more or less complete overview of this clas- sical . Apart from a rather old and very succinct check-list by M. Lambert (in RA 55 (1961) 177-96 and 56 (1962) 81-90, 214), a few articles by W.W. Hallo, listed in his “Toward a History of Sumerian Literature” (Studies Jacobsen, Chicago 1975, 181- 203), an excellent though unsystematic (from the point of view of literary history and crit- icism) overview by J. Krecher (“Sumerische Literatur” in W. RÖLLIG (ed.), Altorientali- sche Literaturen, Wiesbaden 1978, 101-50), one can use the relevant chapters in general presentations of Sumerian culture and history (e.g. S.N. Kramer’s The Sumerians. Their History etc., Chicago 1963 and his History Begins at , Philadelphia 19813 passim) as well as a number of encyclopaedia articles under the appropriate headings of Sumerian Literature or the like. Very useful are the introductions and explanatory matter in recent collections of translated texts, such as J. BOTTÉRO & S.N. KRAMER, Lorsque les dieux fai- saient l’homme, Paris 1989; Th. JACOBSEN, The Harps that Once … Sumerian Poetry in Translation, Yale UP 1987; S.N. KRAMER & J. MAIER, Myths of , The Crafty God, New York 1989. A number of features are treated by different authors in M.E. VOGEL- ZANG & H. VANSTIPHOUT (eds.), Mesopotamian Epic Literature: Oral or Aural, Lewiston 1992. The periods are roughly 2100-2000 (Ur III) and 2010-1600 (Old Babylonian). 3 Such as historical laments, the Dumuzi-Inana cycle of poems about love, death and betrayal, the Inana hymns, myths of procreation and organization, royal odes, disputa- tions, sketches from school life, tales etc. 4 Referring, of course, to Jehan de Bodel’s division of heroic narrative into three ‘matières’: France, Britanny, and Rome. 5 The ‘or’ does not imply uncertainty as to the exact number. See below, section 1.3. 6 Enmerkar appears in the as a ruler of the Dynasty of Uruk. The ruler of Aratta’s name might be read better as En-mús-kesda-ana, since the combination mús “diadem” and kesda “to bind” is a frequent one. 6 H.L.J. VANSTIPHOUT

1. The material we possess for these tales is much alike in shape, quality and distribution. What we have is mainly Old Babylonian, but at least one tale had a version or a forerunner in Ur III times7. The compo- sitions were in high regard: there are well-written exemplars of the complete text, as well as partial editions on good four column or single columns tablets; there are very few exercise extracts. The material comes mainly from , although Ur has given some fine pieces as well, and provided a few very important fragments8. The obvious way to start a discussion of these tales is, of course, to present them in abbreviated form.

1.1. The first story, called Enmerkar and EnSUÎkesdana (hence- forth: EnEn)9 runs as follows: The ruler of Aratta sends an insulting challenge to the ruler of Uruk in order to make him submit. Enmerkar of Uruk refuses and denies the insulting charges. The ruler of Aratta submits Uruk’s reply to his assem- bly. Although the assembly advises against this, the ruler wants to subdue Uruk manu militari. His chief counsel then presents a sorcerer-priest to him, who promises to force Uruk into submission by witchcraft. The sor- cerer sets out for the city of Eres and bewitches its temple cattle, great and small, to wihhold their milk. There is great consternation and fear among herdsmen and shepherds. Now a wise woman intervenes in order to protect life. She challenges the sorcerer to a contest of magic. The sor- cerer throws some spawn10 into the river, and pulls out a full-grown fish. The woman pulls out an eagle, who catches the fish and flies off into the mountains. The sequence is repeated with five other pairs of animals; the woman’s animal always catches the sorcerer’s animal as its prey. In the end, the sorcerer has to admit that he has been beaten, and he asks the wise woman for mercy. She cannot grant this; he is killed, and his corpse is laid out on the river bank. The ruler of Aratta, having thus learned that he cannot match Uruk’s magical powers, submits.

7 The poem here indicated as LB I (see below, section 1.3a). Remark that its twin, LB II, has two (bilingual) fragments from the Kuyunjik collection. This might seem expected in view of the enduring fame of Enmerkar in later tradition, but in fact it happens only very rarely that a classical Sumerian composition survives the Kassite(?) literary revolution. 8 The extant material is given under the headings of the individual tales where necessary. 9 Edited by A. BERLIN: Enmerkar and EnsuÌkesdanna. A Sumerian Narrative Poem. Occasional Publications of the Babylonian Fund, 2. Philadelphia, University Museum 1979. See also the reviews by H. Behrens [AfO 29/30 (1983) 98-103] and W. Heimpel [JAOS 101 (1981) 404-07]. One piece ( N 6495 = ll. 61-66) is to be added to the list of MSS as given by Behrens op. cit. pp. 99-100. MS C is to be joined to L. The composition is about 280 lines long. 10 The Sumerian word is agargara — but it is written with the sign NUN. Since nunu is Akkadian for fish, we have bilingual punning here. THE MATTER OF ARATTA 7

Apart from other features to be discussed later, the main thrust of this poem is apparently in showing Sumer’s moral supremacy: the magical battle is, after all, between black magic (withholding of the life-giving substance: milk) and white magic (providing food, in the form of prey, for sundry animals). Incidentally such an interpretation also explains why the sorcerer must die: life-threatening force, or the negation of life- giving force, is evil — perhaps the nearest to absolute evil in Meso- potamian thinking — and must consequently be totally destroyed. This conceptual frame is reinforced, by the way, by making the sorcerer’s opponent a Wise Woman, a figure which in many cultures and traditions is helpful and necessary at the birthing process.

1.2. Enmerkar and the Lord of Aratta (henceforth ELA) is the title by which our second tale is generally known. It was one of the first major Sumerian compositions ever to appear in an adequate edition11; it has caused a considerable amount of secondary literature and comment. And an exciting story it is.

11 S.N. KRAMER, Enmerkar and the Lord of Aratta: A Sumerian Epic Tale of Iraq and , Philadelphia, University Museum, 1952. See also the reviews and/or review articles by M. Lambert in Syria 30 (1953) 137-43, L. Matous in OLZ 1953 11/12 519-23, R. Jestin in RHR 151 (1957) 145-200, and the revised edition by S. COHEN, Enmerkar and the Lord of Aratta. University of Pennsylvania Dissertation 1973. The text is about 640 lines. The text material now (December 1993) stands as follows: Nippur early campaigns: A=Ni 9601+UM 29-13-194 +N 3623 (ISET 2 28-39+Kr.’s ed. pl. xvii-xviii+Kr.’s ed. pl. xii; lines 2-636;12 col. tablet); B=Ni 13191+N 4130 (ISET 2 42+Kr.’s ed. pl. xix; i: 9-22; ii: 66-72; 4 col. tablet?); C=Ni 2359 (SRT 34; i: 10-13; ii: 71-80; 4 col. tablet?); D=UM 29-16-422 +UM 29-16-456+N 6277 (Kr.’s ed. pls. xiv & xx +unpublished+Kr.’s ed. xxi; i: 25-39; ii: 76-93; iii: 131-150; 4 col. tablet); E=CBS 10435+Ni 4529+N 7256 (SEM 14+ISET 2 40+ unpubl.; i: 55-86p; ii:127-140; iii:192-220;iv: 246-277; 4 col. tablet); F=CBS 13676 (unpublished; i: 70-74; ii: 125-129;4 col. tablet?); G=Ni 9700 (Kr.’s ed. xiii; iii: 103-106; iv: 230-236; 4 col. tablet?); H=CBS 14232 (Kr.’s ed. xxiv & PBS 13 8; ii: 105-111; iii: 112-119; 4 col. tablet?); I=UM 29-16-442 (unpublished; 139-157; single col. extract); J=N 3236 (Kr.’s ed. xxiv;157-166; 167-175; single col. extract?); K=CBS 10436 (SEM 16; i: 167-174; ii: 215-239; iii: 268-306; iv: 318-360; v: 389-418; 6 col. tablet?); L=Ni 4361+Ni 4440 (Kr.’s ed. xvi+xvi;i: 175-186; ii: 211- 230; iii: 234-254; iv: 288-291; 4 col. extract); M=Ni 9733 (Kr.’s ed. xiii; 178-189); N=CBS 13644+UM 29-16-183+N 1496+N 3261 (SEM 15+unpublished+unpublished+ unpublished; iii: 225-245; iv: 273-293; 4 col. tablet); O=N 3632 (Kr.’s ed. xxviii; 230- 237 P=CBS 15110 (Kr.’s ed. xxvii; 232-241; 307-323; single col. extract?); Q=MIO 2379 (BE 31 44, pl. 40; 423-457; single col. extract?); R=CBS 2150 (HAV 9 11; 497- 514; 546-564; single col. extract?); S=CBS 2291 (Kr.’s ed. xxviii; 517-546; single col. extract?); Y=N 2822 (unpublished; 160-165); Ur : U1 =? (UET 6.1 62; 91-106; single col. extract);U2 =U 16897 (UET 6.1 47+UET 6.3 40; 178-210; 215-235c; single col. extract); Kish: =Ash. 1924-475 (OECT 5 2; 136-162; single col. extract?); Prove- nance unknown : VS=VAT 17463 (VS 24 73; i:?; ii: 226-232; 4 col. tablet?). 8 H.L.J. VANSTIPHOUT

Once upon a time there was no form of barter or trade. This annoys Enmerkar of Uruk, since he needs Aratta’s precious metals and stones — totally lacking in the alluvial plain of Sumer — for the construction and adornment of the temples in Uruk and Eridug. He therefore sends a messenger to Aratta, demanding that Aratta’s ruler hands over these materials lest his city be razed and its people scattered. He argues that Aratta is bound to deliver these goods, since Inana prefers Uruk to Aratta. Lastly, he demands that Aratta submits to the “Spell of Nudimmud”, by which the god Enki (i.e. Nudimmud) will unify and pacify the whole known world by making all peoples speak Sumerian. The Lord of Aratta feels secure in Inana’s love for himself, and refuses to give in, although there is drought and famine in his country. So he proposes a cunning deal. He will submit if Enmerkar can fulfill an impossible task; only then will he perceive the hand of Inana. In fact, there will be three impossible tasks, and it is not hard to calculate that therefore the messenger will have to make seven journeys (over seven mountain ranges). But before setting out on his seventh and last journey, the messenger complains that the message has become too long and difficult for him to remember and faithfully reproduce. Enmerkar ponders the problem, pats some clay into tablet shape, and for the first time in history puts words on clay. Upon receiving the tablet, the Lord of Aratta is disconcerted at seeing only “nails” where he had expected words. Nevertheless, the ultimate task, which takes the form of a champion’s combat, is interrupted by the sudden intervention of Iskur, the storm god, who inundates Aratta, thereby break- ing the drought. Some details are still missing or unclear in the concluding episodes, but although we might think that now Aratta no longer has any reason to give in to Uruk’s demands, we see Enmerkar (magnanimously or simply pragmatically?) proposing trade — and the conflict is resolved.

It is clear that this story deals with the conflict in terms of the institution of a cluster of closely related cultural concepts, such as trade, writing, administration and — as will become clear — technology.

1.3. The third tale is presented on all the material as twin stories, or rather as the two halves of a single heroic story about . How- ever ingenious the arguments of the defenders of the ‘two independent stories school’ are, there is no way in which this tale can have meaning- fully existed in this mode; for if we treat them as truly independent stories, the first one has no ending, and the second one has no beginning, or, which is worse, no point. Still, the material forces us to treat them as separately presented, but inseparable, tales. The outer frame, by the way is a single one, encompassing both stories. This frame is a rather abstract one — a point which will become of special interest later on. The ‘story’ goes thus: THE MATTER OF ARATTA 9

Enmerkar undertakes a military campaign to subdue Aratta. On the march towards Aratta, Lugalbanda is left by his comrades.He manages to sur- vive, to acquire special powers, and to find his comrades again, in time to be instrumental in breaking the deadlock caused by Enmerkar’s ineffec- tual siege of Aratta, and in bringing about the ultimate submission of that city to Uruk.

But the story is much more about Lugalbanda’s adventures than about the conflict between Uruk and Aratta and its resolution.

1.3a. The first part, called Lugalbanda in the Mountain Cave (hence- forth LB I) remains unedited12. It describes how Lugalbanda, the eighth and youngest brother of the commanders of Enmerkar’s host, falls ill in the mountain regions. His

12 Wilcke’s edition of LB II contains partial editions of parts of the story. Also Hallo’s edition of the important Yale tablet gives a partial edition. The poem may have had 500- odd lines. The material is: Nippur early campaigns : A=HS 1479 (TMH NF III 10; i:3- 47; ii: 48-93; iii: 94-140; iv: 141-187; v: 188-239; vi:240-261; half edition on a six col. tablet); B=Ni 4291 (ISET 2 42; i: 16-23; ii: 61-64); C=CBS 6792 (SEM 20; ii: 54-73; iii: 106-122; viii: 403-414; ix: 453-461; complete edition on 10 or 12 col. tablet); D=HS 1517 (TMH NF III 11; 94-109; 162-181; single col. extract); E=Ni 9959 (ISET 1 144; 104-117; 165-174; single col. extract?); F=Ni 4102 (ISET 1 70-71; 110-118; 149-160; single col. extract); G=Ni 9677 (ISET 2 44; iii:110-117; iv: 163-171; 4 col. tablet?); H=Ni 9648 (ISET 2 44; 114-124; 143-154; single col. extract); I=CBS 14138 (SEM 111; 210-223; probably part of C); J=CBS 9234 (HAV 4; 231-256;257-277; single col. extract); K= Ni 4553 (ISET 2 45; 280-309; 340-353; single col. extract); L=HS 1449 (TMH NF III 8; 286-302); M=Ni 4405 (ISET 2 43; 299-319; 325-333; single col. extract); N=Ni 9933 (ISET 1 198; 310-313); O=Ni9913 (ISET 1 196; 312-323); P=HS 1471 (TMH NF III 9; 329-346; 389-398; single col. extract); Q=CBS 7085 (HBS 242(obv. only!); 329- 389; 390-443; single col. extract); R= Ni 4441 (ISET 1 156; 355-363; 378-382; single col. extract); S=Ni 2511 (SRT 33;?; 362-376; single col. extract?); T=Ni 4237 (ISET 1 140; 429-439); U=Ni 4276 (ISET 1 138; 444-453); V=Ni 4427 (ISET 1 196; 460-476; 493-?; single col. extract). Nippur later campaigns : a=3N-T 919,454 (SLFN 7; 20-30; single col. extract); b= 3N-T 917,368 (SLFN 8; 260-265; 292-294; single col. extract); c=3N-T 902,74 (SLFN 7; 295-300; single col. extract); d=3N-T 919,467 (SLFN 8; 349- 355; 356-363; single col. extract); e =3N-T 906,222 (SLFN 7; 414-412; 438-445; single col. extract). Other Provenance : Ki= Stevenson Tablet (OECT 1 19; 84-104; 105-123; single col. extract); Si=BM 16920 (CT 42 46; 89-103); Ya = YBC 4623 (JAOS 103 166- 69; 260-299; 300-348; single col. extract); Lo= AO 8896 (TCL 16 90; 435-461; 462- 492; single col. extract); Au=AUAM 73.2389 (RA 70 144; 378-385; 388-396; single col. extract). Unpublished / new : a = CBS 15361 (might join B; 2-13; 218-224; 260-261); b = N 7211 (62-68); g = UM 29-16-228 (119-135; 143-154); d = UM 29-16-367 (129- 139; 140-154); e = UM 29-16-433 (161-172; 207-214; 4 col. tablet); h = N 1325 (166- 179; 203-213); j = N 1412+1362 (289-297); q = CBS 7085 (390-443); i = N 1594 (356- 365a-365b-374); k = CBS 8337 (207-216; 217-223); l = CBS 15128 (i: 48-55; ii: 97-104; iii: 181-187; iv: 213-237); m = N 3302 (?); n = N 3378 (210-214); z = 3N-T 775 (iii: 283-296; iv: 319-337); o = 3N-T 374 (194-215; 216-238); p = 6N-T 638 (Ur III; ± 297-320); r = Ni 4286 (?; 104-110; 170-174); s =? (Ur; 227-235). 10 H.L.J. VANSTIPHOUT

brothers leave him in a cave in the mountains with some provisions, and promise to take him with them on their return journey — if he is still alive. Lugalbanda spends a whole night in prayer to the successive great luminaries: the setting sun, the evening star, the moon, and the rising sun. He recovers, leaves the cave, and succeeds in staying alive by catching wild animals, (re)inventing fire and cooking bread and other food, while not forgetting to spend part of this food as offering to the gods who have protected him. Night comes again; the powers of darkness arrive and presumably threaten the hero, who is saved by the reappearance of the morning star and the sun. The text breaks off near the end, so that we do not now precisely how this first part of his adventures ended.

1.3b. The second half, Lugalbanda and Enmerkar (henceforth LB II), was edited in an exemplary way by C. Wilcke. It begins at a point not far from the end of the first story in spatial and temporal terms. Lugalbanda seems to be stranded at the foot of mount Sabum, in southern Iran. He stumbles on the nest of the Imdugud-bird, and finds that Imdugud’s young is all alone in the nest. He takes it out, treats it to fine food and generally takes good care of it. Upon returning the parents are upset at not finding their young, and consequently very happy when Lugalbanda suddenly produces it in fine condition. Imdugud wants to recompense Lugalbanda with all kinds of fine gifts, but Lugalbanda refuses everything but superhuman speed. Thus equipped, he very soon rejoins his brothers at their ineffectual siege of Aratta; he keeps silent about his newly won quality. Enmerkar is in a quandary: he wants a mes- senger to go to Inana in Uruk and ask her for a decision: shall Aratta have to submit to Uruk or not? No one dares to undertake the lonely and dangerous journey. Then Lugalbanda presents himself; he travels to Uruk and brings back Inana’s solution (she prescribes a magic ritual which will grant bloodless victory to Enmerkar) in an incredibly short time. Aratta submits; its beauty is praised, as is Lugalbanda’s heroism.

2. It is obvious that we have the traditional chicken-or-egg problem here. Is this the same story told three times in three different ways, or do we rather have three independent clusters of motifs worked into three independent narratives superficially held together by an artificial outer frame? The question is not so silly as might at first appear. For after all, in all stories this outer frame is identical. This frame consists of the opposition between Uruk, or Sumer, and Aratta. This opposition is first of all economic (Sumer wants Aratta’s natural riches); but it is also cultural and political (Sumer bases its supremacy, which gives it a right to Aratta’s riches, on its superior culture). Also the manner in which the conflict is resolved is common: Sumer gets its way; and does so by THE MATTER OF ARATTA 11 non-violent or at least non-military means. Furthermore, the protago- nists are basically identical in the different stories: glorious Enmerkar, the wise king; EnSUÎkesdana, the vainglorious and stubborn lord of Aratta; a specially gifted or even saintly middleman; and lastly Inana, being rather typically the origin, the prize and the arbiter of the contest. On the other hand there is the unmistakable feature of using a number of widely differing clusters of well-known folktale motifs which make up much of the body of the individual stories. In EnEn we not only meet a contest of sorcerers, but specifically a transformation contest. In ELA we meet the even wider spread three impossible tasks — or riddles — with their clever solutions. In the LB stories we have a structured per- sonality cluster: the younger brother left in the wilderness; his miracu- lous salvation; his acquisition of supernatural powers; his unexpected return; the jealousy he causes; his ability then used to enforce a solution to a previous and basically unrelated problem … Since the adventures of Lugalbanda are also put in a very pious, not to say sanctimonious mood, and he behaves somewhat like a prig, he is very probably the first ‘Saint’ in human literary history.

2.1. Contrary to the opinions expressed by some of our best students of the matter13, it seems to that in the first instance these folktale motifs are used consciously here, and formally put to a very non-folk- loric use. I mean that against the folkish tradition, which would use the motifs in a neutral way, and abstracted from any value judgment, they are advisedly chosen here as vehicles for the expression of very specific, even moral, values14.

2.1.1. In EnEn we must certainly combine the two magical moments: the envoûtement of the cattle, and the contest. It is clear that the Hamazite sorecerer is evil in that his magic is black: it withholds life force. In the contest the charms of the Wise Woman imply the victory of life: the creatures she pulls out of the water use the other ones as their food. Notice should be taken, by the way, that neither the Hamazite nor the Sumerian brand of creative sorcery directly affects the daily

13 See B. Alster, “Lugalbanda and the Early Epic Tradition in ” (Studies W. Moran, Atlanta 1990, 59-72) 14 Although this is perhaps not exactly bon ton anymore, I find myself more and more to be in agreement with G. Leavis. 12 H.L.J. VANSTIPHOUT sustenance of life, as the Hamazite’s first action assuredly did15. White magic, especially in its creative aspect, is stronger. And so the sorcerer has to die. In the compass of the story as a whole the inference is clear: Aratta must submit to Uruk on moral grounds. 2.1.2. In ELA the three impossible tasks with their solutions, far from being the purely formal riddles they usually are in folk or fairy tale, are significant on three levels, even beside the basic level of cleverness16. 2.1.2.1. The first level of meaning of the solutions to the arrogantly and therefore stupidly proposed riddles consists of the method of solving them. In the first task, grain is supposed to be carried in nets instead of sacks. Enmerkar meets this by laying down a layer of germinated grain, felted together in solid layers or lumps, before putting in the rest of the grain. The second riddle demands a sceptre made from no existing sub- stance. The interpretation of the solution to this task is still open to some perhaps excessively prudent doubts. I agree with S. Cohen that the solu- tion is found by manufacturing a sceptre from a ‘new’ substance: bone glue obtained from macerating hides, and then poured into a hollow reed to solidify17. Lastly, the third task calls for a dog or champion of no known colour. There is still an unresolved problem with this passage. Is it about dogfight? Or is it about a fight between human champions each representing their nation? It has been remarked quite some time ago18 that the same series of dogs with their colours occurs in the lexical lists. One is entitled to ask who got what from whom. But more impor- tant is that the solution in this case is still not clear. It is simply stated that the champions, whatever their nature, met, and that the solution involves textile. I would suggest that Enmerkar weaves a kind of many- coloured cloth for his dog (or champion). This might have been a kind of tartan cloth19, since the simply striped variety must have been too well

15 Note also that here the craft of sorcery itself is put on a higher plane: where at first it was only rather primitive envoûtement, now it becomes creation. 16 The cleverness, by the way, is introduced mistakenly and imprudently by the Lord of Aratta. He thinks that he has excluded any way in which the challenge may be met. The story shows how he fails on all three counts. 17 This would have made an apt 40th to S.N. Kramer’s 39 ‘firsts’. Moreover, since it would be the worlds’s first synthetic substance, it would have warmed the cockles of Sam Kramer’s American heart. And I mean this as a compliment. 18 By Bendt Alster. I have mislaid the reference, but it should not be hard to find. 19 If true, this again would be a ‘first’, antedating by almost four millennia the ‘tradition’ which romantic Scottish lowlanders, perhaps feeling guilty, invented in the nineteenth century and then forced upon those highlanders they had not yet replaced by sheep. THE MATTER OF ARATTA 13 known to qualify as a ‘clever’ solution20. But it remains that the solution has to do with textile. All this means that the first level of meaning of the three solutions has to do with technology which, if anything, is the intelligent application of knowledge and insight. 2.1.2.2. On a second level, the tasks and their solutions are aptly worked into the structure of the story. The grain is naturally linked to the situation of drought and hunger prevailing in Aratta. The sceptre is the symbolic instrument of submission. And the fight between dogs or champions stands for the contest as such. 2.1.2.3. The third level is doubly meaningful. If my reading of the solutions is at all acceptable, it follows that Enmerkar’s answers to the riddles are simply expressive of Sumer’s abilities to export. Sumer needs Aratta’s precious stones and metals; but it can export grain, with its attendant technology; also finished products, or manufactures such as the sceptre; lastly, it can put up a champion clad in whatever hue one wants. The decisive thing about this situation is that the solutions are fitted to the set task, in a grander way than the Lord of Aratta could have imagined. To take just one point, perhaps one of the more meaningful: Aratta is required to pack gold and silver nuggets in nets etc., load them on donkeys and deliver them to Uruk. Aratta then replies that it wants grain in nets, etc. The two passages are obviously meant to correspond. There is more; taken together they are a very fitting illustration of a known Sumerian proverb, used at the finale of the disputation between Ewe and Grain, but also known independently: He who possesses cattle, gold, or silver, shall ever wait in attendance upon him who possesses grain. The two other technological solutions factually reinforce Sumer’s superiority: Enmerkar, and thus Sumer, is doing things which cannot be done. It follows that Aratta is backward. This notion of Aratta’s backwardness is neatly encapsulated by two very important passages, which open and close the series of seven travels undertaken by the envoy. The first one is the famous spell of Nudimmud, which as I explain elsewhere implies that a golden future

20 I have a vague memory of a remark by Jacobsen claiming that the name of the Sumerian champion — or Enmerkar’s dog — gives the solution: he is named igi-gál : “Wise or Knowing One”. Since intelligence has no colour, the challenge was met. Although one must be very careful when declaiming something proposed by Jacobsen, I have great doubt in this instance. 14 H.L.J. VANSTIPHOUT will appear when all the world speaks Sumerian, or is otherwise drawn into the Sumerian cultural sphere. The second, near the end of the series of diplomatic exchanges, is the passage where writing is invented — to the utter consternation of the Lord of Aratta. Taking together the tasks, the solutions, the spell of Nudimmud and the invention of writing, this means that the poem is about Sumer’s claim to supremacy on the grounds of inherent superiority — morally, technically, and intellectually. Of course there is here an eery reminiscence of aspects of 19th century British Victorian or French Republican ideologies of imperialism; and even of 20th century Manifest Destinies of red or blue or deep black hue. The main point of contact between the systems would be trade. And so the historical circle seems to close.

2.1.3. The Lugalbanda story is different. The folktale motifs are clustered exclusively around one person. The story is about the hero, and not about the conflict. The splitting up in two parts of the chain of events in the telling of the story has caused much effort by renowned scholars. But the difficulty (one or two stories?) may perhaps be resolved in a relatively simple way. One might indeed view the first part (LB I) as the personal preparation of the hero for the task which he will have to ful- fill, but which in a way remains extraneous to him. This task might just as well have been something completely different. But in the sequel of his tribulations (LB II) it becomes clear that his personal and spiritual preparation did have a precise goal after all. For the supernatural power he demands from the Imdugud bird is unnatural speed, which will allow him to fulfill ideally the role of the messenger, and thus reintroduces him into the cycle. It is not hard, nor even adventurous, to interpret Lugalbanda’s existence as an elaboration of the envoy in ELA. This first ever clustering of low beginning → solitude → unexplain- able success in difficult circumstances → meeting with the supernatural → special power deriving from that meeting → ability derived from the special power to resolve a previous an unconnected difficulty where all others fail, is a known linear structure: it describes succinctly the career of holy men, or saints. In this respect the analogy which Bendt Alster draws between our hero and Robinson Crusoe is very meaningful21. Like Robinson, Lugalbanda rediscovers for himself a number of cultural

21 See footnote 13. THE MATTER OF ARATTA 15 necessities. And like Robinson, the archetypical Saint of the protestant persuasion, he behaves as a prig.

2.2. But there is another way of looking at these compositions, if we regard them as plots. There is action, of course. Where does this action take place? Who are the actors? What are their actions? The basic framework obviously implies two poles of action, since the situation is one of conflict. Now this conflict can apparently only be resolved, or worked out, by introducing a median factor. And this gives us the fol- lowing and rather revealing state of things. 2.2.1. In ELA the action remains so to speak in the power of the originators: Enmerkar and the Lord of Aratta. So the situation remains bipolar and the median factor — the messenger — keeps shuttling to and fro because of the bipolarity. He only carries the massage 2.2.2. In EnEn the action is concentrated in the median factor(s); therefore we find that the interest, and the text, is drawn to these mid- dles. The Sorcerer and the Wise Woman are the real actors. In fact, the text plainly indicates this, for they are duly introduced by third and basically unimportant persons. The vizier of Aratta hires the Sorcerer; the cattle keepers apparently beseech the Wise Woman to redress things. And the original ‘protagonists’ — the two contending Lords — do not really appear in the action, which remains an action by proxy. 2.2.3. Again the Lugalbanda stories are a special case. Nominally the plot would seem to fit in well with the bipolar scheme found in ELA; this is only so when one fits the beginning of LB I to the ending of LB II. But the insistence of what happens to the median factor, including the way in which he unexpectedly becomes the necessary messenger, makes clear that the real action is concentrated upon this median figure. Here the frame is only that: a frame. The action here lies elsewhere; it lies in the evolution of the hero’s fortunes, culminating in the bringing of the message, which is but the crowning point of his tribulations. It is not only that the scheme has so to speak been turned inside out; it is also the case that the overall framework of conflict and resolution on the ‘higher’ level of the collective group retreats against the individual personage of the messenger. Remark, by the way, the cleverness of this: while nominally Lugalbanda remains the messenger — as in model A: ELA — his person becomes the focus of action — as 16 H.L.J. VANSTIPHOUT in model B: EnEn —, while the message as such is climactic in two senses: it is the culmination and justification of Lugalbanda’s tribula- tions; but it is also the final and decisive factor in the resolution of the conflict. And that is why we find here only one message, carried on only two if supernaturally fast trips.

2.3. Now this reshuffling of the terms or elements of the basic frame- work has other implications. In the case of Lugalbanda22 we observe that the focus on the messenger as the central character implies a linear organization of what happens to him, along a general line of isolation → apparent death → liminal stage → supernatural power → reintegration. This implies a second register, with a much more elaborate scheme of things to be told, and therefore also more actions and more actors. Thus Lugalbanda is seen in contact with the great luminaries, with the powers of darkness and of light, with Imdugud, with his brethren23, with Enmerkar, with Inana …. As to the brethren, Bendt Alster has recently proposed that there is a conflict between them and Lugalbanda; that they are jealous and cowardly as against his (Lugalbanda’s) nobility of mind and courage. This may be so; but it is a subjective impression; and sub- jective impressions have a knack of being easily turned around. One might also say that saintly Lugalbanda, as saints often do, sets up his brethren. He has a power about which they know nothing; he does not reveal it, but uses it in a manner which makes them look like fools. This may be seen as a subtle revenge for the fact that they left him in the first place; but the other side of the coin is surely that one cannot trust a saint. The important point is that our poet sensed this ambiguity in Lugal- banda’s character — to my mind he consciously created it —, and made full literary use of it. This awareness of ambiguity is present in many more literary compositions, and often handled with great virtuosity, as the splendid Disputations abundantly attest. In our case I think that there is an intended basic ambiguity locked into the central character24. Be that as it may, the Lugalbanda stories have in any case expanded the original frame close to the point of implosion, and, very cleverly,

22 It is a great pity that the ending of LB I still remains too difficult for complete analysis. 23 The term is used advisedly. Very probably they are no blood brothers, but they surely make up a ‘Bruderschaft’. 24 And it is this intended ambiguity which makes Lugalbanda sufferable to my per- sonal taste. But only just. THE MATTER OF ARATTA 17 have maintained the link with the outer framework precisely through the supernatural feature which the hero acquires while on his adventurous ways. 2.3.2. In ELA the median factor is also linked specifically to the outer frame, but in a totally different way. The situation at the start is specified: there is Uruk’s coveting of Aratta’s riches, but there is also Aratta’s need for food, and there is no trade. This makes it doubly mean- ingful that the first task is about the delivery of grain to Aratta. In fact, grain runs through the whole of the story as a secondary red thread: it crops up25 in the descriptions of hunger and drought; it is the substance of the first riddle; it is there again after Iskur’s sudden intervention. Furthermore, it is clearly and unequivocally presented as the counterpart to the gold, silver, and precious stones of Aratta. Thus the first task is fully and specifically integrated into the outer frame of this version of the story. The second task is about the sceptre. The symbolism as such is so transparent that it would be silly to elucidate. But it is legitimate to ask why the sceptre is put in second, not third, or first place. I think the answer must be sought in the construction of the whole thing as an a-da- mìn: a contest. The third task, whatever its precise reading, surely describes a real contest; and the sceptre, being the prize sought, will only fulfill its real function after the contest is over. Since the idea of the a-da-mìn, or contest, also appears in the Spell of Nudimmud, in that Enki there enforces the use of Sumerian as a condition for holding meaningful a-da-mìn contests, I propose that we have here a conscious literary play with the composition as such, and with its features. The composition as it were reduplicates its own structure and constructs itself into a self-image. This trick, technically known as mise--abyme, is used throughout Standard Sumerian Literature, and deserves specific investigation. On the other hand it is so general in all real literature that Barthes did not mark it as a special code, but simply subsumed it under his symbolic code. The point I am labouring towards is that this tech- nique quite naturally adds a new layer of intended meaning: that of the projected effectivity of the text. As with the regular debates26, the game

25 If I may be forgiven the awful but irresistible pun. 26 And I would insist that this is the real reason why the texts discussed here, and the regular debates, although widely divergent on almost every point, are both justifiably called a-da-mìn. 18 H.L.J. VANSTIPHOUT seems more important that the result. This means not merely the some- what crude and overly naive notion that to participate is more important than to win. With a tinge of a perhaps typical Eduba brand of cynical humanism — to be found again and again in other typical literate sub- groups in many societies —, the real ‘meaning’ here as well as in the Debates is the matter of how the contenders look while they are doing what they are doing. 2.3.3. In EnEn the matter is much more simple and straightforward. Of the three stories, this one is most nearly related to the formal proper- ties of traditional folktales27, even in small details. To take one instance: the presentation completely out of the blue of the Hamazite sorcerer would best be translated, in typical folktale style, as: “Now there was this sorcerer …”. And in fact there is no obvious added linking between the thematics of the outer frame and the magic of the inner story28, except on the level of the ethical symbolism of the sorcery contest. This might be interpreted as pointing to an ‘earlier’ or ‘more primitive’ status of this narrative as against the other parts of the cycle. This might well be so at a non-recuperable ‘earlier stage’ in the ‘evolution’ of this tale resulting in the text as we have it. But prudence and a sense of reality should warn us against such an interpretation, for we know nothing at all of such an earlier (oral?) stage29; and what is more, the contemporaries would not have agreed, for they incorporated an episode resembling, and even deriving of, the invention of writing in ELA, which, however, here has no functional value whatsoever, and which must therefore be judged to be a secondary intrusion30. Now while the question must remain moot in the absence of hard evidence (impossible to come by, to my mind), it clearly shows that at least in the minds of the contemporaries it excludes any priority for EnEn.

3. The latter brings us to a final point: the poetic or textural make-up of the poems. A study of this matter ought really to be undertaken on the basis of the texts in their completeness, and in much detail. But provi- sionally I would like to indicate that on this level also there is a marked

27 See already B. Alster (article quoted in footnote 13) for a detailed discussion. 28 As there clearly is f.i. in ELA (the significance of the tasks). 29 Neither here nor in the majority of other cases advanced as props for such evolu- tionary theories leading up to ‘classical’ formats of known works. 30 The case is thus different from that in the Sargon text. There the motif is given a ‘new’ and very apt sense by the introduction of the invention of the envelope. THE MATTER OF ARATTA 19 distinction between the three compositions, although all three work with the common Sumerian narrative mode which alternates relatively long (4 to 8 lines) passages of ‘short verse’ (4 to 6 beats), with relatively short (2 to 4 lines) sections of longer verse (8 beats upward). I confess that this must remain an impressionist statement for the time being31. But beyond this, there are a number of individual traits to the three stories. I mention here only the relation between speech and action. In EnEn we have really poetry of action. Speech is on the whole formulaic, repi- titive and in a way serial, in that it tends to consist of a progression of short near identical bits. In ELA, speech is much more important, and the action is restricted to the messenger’s travels, to the solutions to the riddles, and to Iskur’s intervention; indeed, the long and ornate speeches, making use of diverse modes of discourse, give the text a rhetorical flavour which again relates it to the debates. There is also a lot of well-ordered block repetition near the beginning, and taken up again near the end32. In Lugalbanda finally the speeches are much more bal- anced by narrated action and description. In fact the speeches are of two types; preponderant are monologues (the hero’s prayers); but there are also short sequences of quick dialogue, which really belong to the action, and not to speechifying. The important part taken up by descrip- tion (Lugalbanda’s ‘inventions’ are a good example) are matched with other recurring explanatory passages (Dream; Sleep; Beer; …).

4. To conclude, I would remark that the fact that three ‘different’ sto- ries show three different, though closely related, styles shows not only the flexibility of Sumerian poetic language. It also hints at a possible attempt at an answer to the original ‘silly question’: frame or filling — or, in other words, conflict story or folktale motif? I think a case can be made for an answer in the following sense. The frame in a broad sense, consisting of the glorious supremacy of Sumer even over richest Aratta and in the face of insuperable difficulties, which is both won and illustrated by Sumer’s superiority on the moral,

31 See my “‘Verse Language’ in Standard Sumerian Literature” (J.C. DE MOOR & W.G. WATSON (eds.), Verse in Ancient Near Eastern Prose, Kevelaer/Neukirchen 1993, 305-29). Note, by the way, that it has generally and unjustly been overlooked that the important matter of the analysis of verse groups arranged into ‘strophes’ was started by J.S. Cooper in his edition. 32 See my Repetition and Structure in the Aratta Cycle: Their Relevance for the Oral- ity Debate, in M. VOGELZANG & H. VANSTIPHOUT (eds.), Mesopotamian Epic Literature: Oral or Aural? (Lewiston 1992), 247-64. 20 H.L.J. VANSTIPHOUT intellectual, and technological levels, is primary, and gave rise to three different narratives. The folktale character of the themes and motifs used to fill out this frame is far from unadulterated. Even refraining from the rather obvious question “what folk?”, it must be stressed that the folk- tale structures we meet are used in a highly specific way, and that they all carry bundles of meanings or messages which reinforce each other as they support and interpret the framework. These messages by them- selves might just as well have been carried by other folktale motifs, something no self-respecting folktale would ever do33. My conclusion therefore is that the ‘identification’ of these folktale motis is bound to remain somewhat of a wild goose chase if it is not realized that they are being used consciously as literary or poetical material by a composer who knew very well what he was about. I can agree with the terms ‘tra- ditional tales and motifs’; but only in the sense that Benjamin Britten used traditional carols. I firmly believe that we are in the presence not of popular tradition but of high art.

Dept. TCMO H.L.J. VANSTIPHOUT Oude Boteringestraat 23 NL-9712 GC Groningen The Netherlands

33 In fact, quite the contrary. In any existing folktale its specific arrangement of motifs is essential. What they ‘mean’ — if anything — is totally unimportant.