screaming. I was frequently pointed to, and told that I had found favor in the eyes of Yahweh, though what this meant nobody was certain.
"I guess they all knew in a way that I could see farther than others, look into souls, you know, see like a zaddik, a saint, but I was no saint, only an obstreperous young man."
He stopped. The sharpness of memory seemed to cut him off and hold him.
"You were happy," I said. "By nature, you were happy, truly happy."
"Oh, yes, I knew it, and so did my friends. In fact, they often teased me about being too happy. Things never seemed all that difficult, you see. Things never seemed dark! Darkness came with death, and the worst darkness for me was right before it, and maybe . . . maybe even now. But darkness. Oh, to take on the world of darkness, that is like trying to chart the stars of heaven.
"What was I saying? Things were easy for me. I enjoyed them. For example, to be educated I had to work in the tablet house. I had to get a real Babylonian education. This was wise, this was for the future, this was for trade, this was to be a man of learning. And they beat the daylights out of us if we were late, or didn't learn our lessons, but usually it was easy for me.
"I loved the old Sumerian. I loved writing out the whole stories of Gilgamesh and 'In the Beginning' and copying all kinds of records so that fresh tablets could be sent to other cities in Babylonia. I could practically speak Sumerian. I could now sit down and write for you my life in Sumerian-" He stopped. "No, I couldn't do that. I couldn't because if I could have written my life, I wouldn't have climbed up this snowy mountain to commit it to you ... I can't . . . I can't .... write it in any tongue. Talking lets the pain flow ..."
"That I understand perfectly, and am here to listen. The point is, you know Sumerian, and you can read it, and you can translate it."
"Yes, yes, yes, and Akkadian, the language that had been used after, and the Persian which was creeping up on us all then, and Greek-I could read that well-and Aramaic which was taking the place of our own Hebrew in daily life, but then I wrote Hebrew too.
"I learnt my lessons. I wrote fast. I had a way of plunging the stylus into the clay that made everybody laugh but my writing was good. Really good. And I also loved to stand up and read out loud, so whenever the teacher took sick, or was called out, or suddenly needed some medicine, otherwise known as beer, I'd stand up and start reading Gilgamesh to everybody in an exaggerated voice, making them laugh.
"You know the old myth of course. And it's important to our story, stupid and crazy as it is. Here is this king Gilgamesh and he is running wild around his city-on some tablets he is a giant, on others he is the size of a man. He behaves like a bull. He has the drums beaten all the time, which makes everybody unhappy. You're not supposed to beat the drums except for certain reasons-to frighten spirits, to call to nuptials, you know.
"Okay, so we have Gilgamesh tearing up the city of Uruk. And what do the gods do, being the Sumerian gods, being about as smart as a bunch of water buffalo-they make an equal for Gilgamesh in a wild man called Enkido, who is covered with hair, lives in the woods, and likes to drink with beasts-oh, it is so important in this world with whom one eats and drinks and what!-anyway, here we have wild Enkido coming down to the stream to drink with the beasts, and he is rendered tame by spending seven days with a temple harlot!
"Stupid, no? The beasts wouldn't have anything to do with him once he knew the harlot. Why? Were the beasts jealous because they didn't get to lie with the harlot? Don't beasts copulate with beasts? Are there no beast harlots? Why does copulating with a woman make a man less of a beast? Well, the whole story of Gilgamesh never made any sense anyway except as a bizarre code. Everything is code, is it not?"
"I think you're right, it's code," I said, "but code for what? Keep telling me