Epic Of Gilgamesh

Every human will share at least two experiences. Birth and Death. These central events get a lot of literary airtime, and rightfully so, they are important events. However, they are the bookends to the human experience, and what makes a human a person is every other event stacked between them. As a salute to these medial events, literary genres that focus on the development of the individual, like the Bildungsroman, have developed. Some of the most influential literature that humanity has access to, such as The Epic of Gilgamesh, follow the guidelines of a Bildungsroman. Despite not being in novel format, The Epic of Gilgamesh still tells the story of moral maturity. Our protagonist, once a tyrannical adventurer, learns how to be a good ruler

The main source of plot movement in The Epic of Gilgamesh is Gilgamesh’s drive for adventure. However, it becomes apparent with the progression of the story that Gilgamesh derives less and less pleasure from his journeys. The reader is even given the sense that Gilgamesh, despite having successfully made a name for himself by “[[learn]ing] of everything the sum of wisdom,” (I. 5, p.1), is disappointed by the ultimate result of his adventuring. Evidence of this is found in the speed of travel and amount of description on the journey to and from the underworld. Gilgamesh’s trip to the underworld to find immortality takes a whole tablet and is filled with many obstacles, but the return journey seems to only take two days and is dedicated only two meagerly lines (XI. 319-320, p. ). The quick and unenthusiastic trip home suggests that Gilgamesh is at the very least unsettled, if not outright disappointed, with the result of his long journey. Gilgamesh’s lack of interest in the accomplishment of his original goals (the quest for glory and power) also proposes

The king’s viewpoint of the city has developed and matured so as Gilgamesh comes home, he finds the unchanged Uruk born again in his eyes. The city, magnificent in both size and architecture, once an extension and a declaration of Gilgamesh’s kingly power is now a separate entity worthy of his pride and respect. This is displayed in the text primarily by a change in speaker. Uruk’s description in the beginning of the epic is in the voice of an unknown and semi-omniscient narrator, but by the ending lines Gilgamesh himself repeats the city’s description to Ur-shanabi the boatman. The reader can almost hear the pride in his words, “O Ur-shanabi, climb Uruk's wall and walk back and forth! Survey its foundations, examine the brickwork! Were its bricks not fired in an oven? Did the Seven Sages not lay its foundations?” (XI. 323-326, p. ). Furthermore, in the beginning of the epic Gilgamesh is credited with the creation of Uruk, “He built the rampart of Uruk-the-Sheepfold, of holy Eanna, the sacred storehouse,” (I. 11-12, p. ), but as the travelers return all mention of Gilgamesh’s dominion is gone as the city has gained its own identity. At the beginning of the epic when Gilgamesh saw Uruk’s greatness as his own, pride for his city was just a way to flatter his considerable ego; but now that Gilgamesh recognizes they are separate beings he can be