drmstream[writing]

A few weeks ago I watched a com­pelling telepic out of Brit­ian called The Occu­pa­tion. The story cen­ters on the inter­twined fates of a group of British sol­diers deployed to Iraq dur­ing the first war. That deploy­ment became the cen­trifu­gal force for per­sonal change, ruin, temp­ta­tion and despair. Grace became a com­pro­mised state of existence.

One cen­tral char­ac­ter found under­stand­ing, if not solace, from The Epic of Gilgamesh.

In one of the movie’s final and most force­ful scenes, a dead young inno­cent in eulo­gized by the read­ing of Siduri the Barmaid’s guid­ance to Gil­gamesh on the state of man’s soul. Here’s the com­plete exchange; the film only uses Siduri’s last state­ment, which stands starkly absent Gilgamesh’s anguish.

Siduri the Bar­maid: If you are that Gil­gamesh who seized and killed the Bull of Heaven,
Who killed the watch­man of the cedar forest,p
Who over­threw Hum­baba that lived in the for­est,
And killed the lions in the passes of the moun­tain,
Why are your cheeks so starved and why is your face so drawn?
Why is despair in your heart and your face like the face of one who has made a long jour­ney?
Yes, why is your face burned from heat and cold?
And why do you come here wan­der­ing over the pas­tures in search of the wind?

Gil­gamesh: And why should not my cheeks be starved and my face drawn?
Despair is in my heart and my face is the face of one who has made a long jour­ney,
It was burned with heat and with cold.
Why should I not wan­der over the pas­tures in search of the wind?
My friend, my younger brother, he who hunted the wild ass of the wilder­ness and the pan­ther of the plains,
My friend, my younger brother who seized and killed the Bull of Heaven and over­threw Hum­baba in the cedar for­est,
My friend who was very dear to me and who endured dan­gers beside me,
Enkidu my brother, whom I laved, the end of mor­tal­ity has over­taken him.
I wept far him seven days and nights till the worm fas­tened on him.
Because of my brother I am afraid of death.
Because of my brother I stray through the wilder­ness and can­not rest.
But now, young woman, maker of wine, since I have seen your face
Do not let me see the face of death which I dread so much.

Siduri the Bar­maid: Gil­gamesh, where are you hur­ry­ing to?
You will never find that life for which you are look­ing.
When the gods cre­ated man they allot­ted to him death.
But life they retained in their own keep­ing.
As for you, Gil­gamesh, fill your belly with good things;
Day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice.
Let your clothes be fresh, bathe your­self in water.
Cher­ish the lit­tle child that holds your hand.
And make your wife happy in your embrace.
For this too is the lot of man.

Accept and enjoy the things around you, for search­ing eter­nal life is folly, a kind of hubris in the face of the Gods.