| Inanna's Visit with Father Enki A Story of Ancient Sumeria by James W. Bell © 2001 |
| Inanna’s sukkal waited with her high priest at the door to her throne room. “Enter,” the goddess said. Then she addressed Dan-Inanna, “I’m going on a trip with Ninshubur. As you are my high priest, I am leaving the temple in your care.” “You can rest easy,” Dan-Inanna said. “May I inquire where you’re going?” “To Eridu,” the goddess replied. “Ninshubur has regendered herself as a man so he can sail me down. I’m leaving you and Anu here in Uruk.” “You and your sukkal are traveling alone? In some ridiculously small boat no doubt.” “It’s necessary. I don’t wish to attract attention. Enlil is well aware Enki is in Eridu. As he’s intensely jealous of his brother, I’m sure he’ll have zu-birds patrolling its approaches. They would recognize Anu by his luminescence, which is why I leave him behind. If you came with us, Dan-Inanna, dressed in that ornate garb, you would stick out like a sore thumb.” Inanna’s high priest scoffed. “I am high priest of the Eanna Temple. I must uphold the dignity and prestige of my office.” “Of course,” the goddess said. * * * The small boat was built of ribs from palm fronds, tightly lashed together. Ninshubur helped the goddess aboard. “You chose a boat of frond ribs,” Inanna said. “It’s light but sturdy,” her transgendered sukkal said. “Easy to handle.” With Inanna seated, he climbed in and used his paddle to push the boat away from the quay. “We’ve nine miles to go—four hours’ time. Does Enki know we’re coming?” Inanna nodded. “Isimud will foresee our journey and tell him.” “Father Enki,” Ninshubur repeated. “Yet, he is your grandfather, is he not?” “He is, but, as you know, Ninshubur, I follow the custom of human mortals. As Enki was the god who created them, they call him Father Enki. So do I.” “You imitate the mortals in many ways.” “They are the way of the future.” “How can you speak like that of such short-lived creatures?” “While we gods sit on our hands to endure the timelessness of eternity, my dear sukkal, the proximity of death constantly spurs mortals to ever greater activity. But, enough. It is a subject best discussed with Father Enki and his sukkal. Raise the sail, Ninshubur, and start paddling.” Ninshubur guided the boat out of the Eanna Harbor, into the great Iturungal Canal, where the North Wind caught its sail and sent the craft scudding past Gilgamesh Point and across the mighty Euphrates, into the broad reach of the Idnun Canal, that runs southwest down to Eridu. * * * As Ninshubur jibbed the sail, he took notice of the waterside park they were passing and its stele of sculpted limestone. “Very attractive,” he told Inanna. “We’ve passed many parks. I’m told you built these, but I can hardly believe the number I’ve seen.” Inanna laughed. “Waterside parks are not difficult to build. The stele, massive as it is, can be transported by water along with a boatload of plants. Set the load ashore, push the stele upright, surround it with greenery, clear the reed beds in front and a park is made. It’s the upkeep afterwards that’s so difficult … and expensive.” “Mortals greatly admire what you’ve done,” Ninshubur said. “But, I know you. I know you have never personally watched after these parks or asked anyone to take care of them. How are they kept so green and luxuriant?” “The secret, Ninshubur, is that they are well watered.” He studied the park on the bank. “I see no irrigation ditches.” “Being a water god, Father Enki takes care of the watering. He causes sweet water to rise beneath the parks. It waters the vegetation when it percolates to the surface. Mortals take it to be a miracle.” “The parks themselves, located here in the midst of the desert, are like miracles.” Then Ninshubur wiped the sweat off his face and glanced up. “Up there,” he pointed into the sky. “Isn’t that a patrol of zu-birds overhead?” The goddess looked up and saw four birds circling high in the sky above them. She raised her hand and waved at them. “You’re waving at zu-birds?” Ninshubur asked. Inanna smiled. “The Skylord calls them zu-birds, but really they’re not all that smart. They expect the usual—conspirators who try to conceal themselves. So, I do the opposite. You too, Ninshubur. Wave at them.” “As you will,” her sukkal said and waved at the birds with his free hand as he sculled the boat along the canal. The zu-birds circled one last time, then flew away. * * * Inanna pointed at the structure in the distance ahead, a monumental temple on a high mount of white limestone, the temple’s facade faced with slabs of lapis lazuli and trimmed with inlays of polished silver. “There it is,” she said. “The E-abzu - the Temple of the Abzu. We’re coming to Eridu.” “The temple has always inspired me,” Ninshubur said. “Its mount seems to rear up out of the marsh.” He surveyed the surrounding marsh. “But where is the city? Its approaches? Its houses?” “When I carried the Me laws away to Uruk,” the goddess replied, “the mortals living here abandoned Eridu and followed me. Eridu’s buildings, left unattended, have long since subsided into the marsh. Father Enki, though he espouses the cause of human mortals, prefers solitude. Besides, he fears too much contact with mortals, might spur Enlil into more hasty actions. And too much contact with other gods, especially with his own brother, might result in an dispute that could damage the Earth.” “So Enki believes the Earth is better off if he remains isolated?” “Yes,” Inanna said, “that’s the way he and his sukkal view it.” “Look, there’s someone on the temple quay.” “It must be Isimud, Father Enki’s two-faced sukkal. He’s foreseen our arrival so he’s coming out to meet us. Father Enki will be inside awaiting our arrival. Paddle, Ninshubur. We’re still some distance away. Hurry.” * * * Isimud greeted them as they moored the boat, his forward face wreathed in a huge smile. “I told Enki you were coming. He’s inside waiting for you. Then he turned to Ninshubur. “Who is this?” he asked. “My sukkal,” Inanna said. “Don’t you remember? You met him last time.” Isimud turned around and looked at Ninshubur with the narrowed eyes of his backward face. “I see that last time you had a female sukkal with you. Is he she?” “He is,” Inanna said. “I’m sorry, Isimud, I’d forgotten. At any event, today he’s gendered himself as a man.” “You’d better not let human mortals learn what your sukkal does.” “Nonsense. Mortals in Uruk already know. They accept Ninshubur. That’s why we’re called the Rainbow City. But I’m here because Enlil recently summoned me to come to the holy city of Nippur. Is there some crisis brewing I don’t know about?” “Not yet, but Enki frets about Enlil. His brother seems increasingly unstable. Enki thinks Ereshkigal’s throwing open the gates of the Netherworld to the fires of the Underworld has shaken Enlil’s confidence and caused him to fear the Earth itself will descend into Chaos. We hear he’s blaming human mortals for the Netherworld burning.” Inanna nodded. “That’s nothing new. Enlil has always blamed mortals for most everything. Mortals are easier to push around than other gods. Worse, when Enlil goes to punish them … the poor mortals … he thunders at them … tells them it’s their fault, that they brought it on themselves.” Isimud nodded. “I know. That’s Enlil all over. But come inside. Enki awaits.” * * * Inanna was shocked when she entered Enki’s throne room. The god sat on his throne as always, in the same relaxed manner she recalled from the past, but now his face was lined like that of an old man’s and he had white hair and a long, white beard. “Father Enki!” the goddess gasped. “What’s happened to you? You’re a god – supposed to be immortal – but I find you aged!” Enki waved his hand at her as if it were a thing of little matter. “Don’t worry, my child. My appearance is an earthly artifice I’ve recently chosen. It’s not reality. I merely changed my physical appearance, as human mortals do. As much as Enlil claims he detests the ways of the Earth, my worn visage serves to remind him that I am his older brother. Too often, he’s been impulsive and brash in his actions.” Inanna turned to Enki’s sukkal and fastened a questioning eye on him. “It is as he says,” Isimud confirmed. “His appearance is also a great help when he deals with human mortals. Since they’re subject to the slow onset of death throughout their lives, they venerate the ravages of increased age and believe them signs of great wisdom and compassion.” The goddess turned back to Enki. “But, why adopt this ungodly disguise?” she asked. “Why not just face Enlil and have it out with him? You are far craftier than your brother. You would easily overcome him.” Enki shook his head and sighed. “My child, I foreswore violence long ago.” He pointed at the waters of Abzu in the bottomless pool. “In my youth, at the urging of the Council of Gods, I killed my great, great grandfather. I brought his body down here from Heaven and imprisoned it down in that abyss. What good has it done?” “Why, Father Enki,” Inanna answered, “has not the Abzu refreshed all the Earth with its pure water? Has not its sweetness fertilized the soil and produced life? Because you have forever imprisoned it below, has it not come back down as rain whenever it evaporated and tried to escape back to Heaven?” “Yes, because of me, my child. My poor great, great grandfather, who abhorred work, is now destined to endless work for eternity. But that wasn’t the end of it. Afterwards, when my great, great grandmother threatened us, the Council of the Gods met again and begged me to do away with her too. That time, I turned them down.” “I know the story well,” Inanna said. “Then you know that Enlil, with the help of South Wind, shot an arrow into my great, great grandmother’s belly and killed her. Afterwards, he took her corpse and lowered it from Heaven to float it upon the surface of the Abzu, cleaving it in halves and opening it to make the Earth.” “And because of that,” Inanna said, “Enlil gained the title of Skylord, Lord of the Great Above, while you, Father Enki, though the elder and the wiser brother, were reduced in rank to Lord of the Great Below.” “Except for the Netherworld,” Enki noted. “Except the Netherworld,” Inanna agreed. “The Netherworld was given to my sister Ereshkigal.” “I was glad. I could never have accepted death as the ultimate destiny for the human mortals I created.” “Enlil has continued to deny them immortality since the day they were first created.” “I know. Enlil is selfish, a jealous god. He doesn’t want human mortals to resemble him in the least way. His attitude grieves me.” “Again, Father Enki, I ask you, ‘Why not face up to him?’” “Because, my child, I am strong, but not strong enough to overcome my brother while having to protect my mortal children at the same time. If I won against Enlil but lost my children … my creation … what would I have gained?” “You are very attached to the mortals.” Enki nodded. “Like any father, I take pride in my children. I have given them many talents and boundless ability. I yearn to see them do well.” “Enlil recently summoned me to his holy city of Nippur. He demanded I cease working with human mortals, or helping them, and that I stop building cities. I almost laughed in his face before I left. But what can I do to stop him?” “My child, you won’t believe what I have to tell you.” “Try me, Father Enki.” Enki turned to his sukkal. “Tell her, Isimud. Look into the future with your forward eyes and share your vision with my granddaughter.” Isimud focused his forward eyes on the future. After a moment, he commenced speaking. “In the world yet to come, I see no gods or goddesses here on the face of the Earth. When I search for them, I find them up in Heaven, from whence they originally came. That’s my vision of the future.” “The gods and goddesses are all in Heaven?” Inanna asked. “But, what of my dream of becoming Queen of the Earth?” “I’m sorry, my child,” Enki said. “According to Isimud’s vision, it’s not your destiny. It will never happen. You must content yourself with being Queen of Heaven.” “But I would miss the blue skies of the Earth,” Inanna whispered, “and long for the cool evening breeze that caresses my cheek and rustles the palm fronds.” “Such is not to be for you,” Enki said. “Then, what is to be for me?” Inanna asked. “Tell me, Father Enki, I want to know. What destiny is to be decreed for us gods?” Enki turned to his sukkal again. “Tell her, Isimud. Tell her all you foresee.” “Oh, Queen of Heaven,” Enki’s sukkal again focused his forward eyes on the future, “I foresee two paths leading into the future. On one path, the gods fight with one another over the destiny of the Earth, resulting in the destruction of all life upon its face. Lest the gods starve, they will be left with no choice but to return to Heaven.” “All life on the face of the Earth destroyed? How sad.” Isimud nodded. “But that may not come to be. On the other path, the gods depart and return to Heaven, leaving the Earth to its own creatures.” “But the Earth has always charmed the gods. We’ve all come down from Heaven, preferring to live here. Whatever would induce us to give up our earthly delights and return to Heaven?” Isimud shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, “my vision is blurred in that respect. Perhaps Enki could answer.” Inanna turned back to Enki. He said, “My child, do not overlook the capabilities of these human mortals I created. Remember, they taught themselves to build temples of mud and water, temples so grand that they almost touch the clouds. Their ingenuity knows no bounds.” “Are you telling me, Father Enki, that human mortals are going to somehow dispossess us of the Earth and force us to return to Heaven?” Enki shook his head. “In not in so blatant a manner,” he said. “Human mortals, having taught themselves the art of writing, have become great talkers. And, being builders, they’ve acquired logic. I think it more likely that they will somehow talk us into returning to Heaven.” “Why – ,” Inanna exclaimed, “ – that’s impossible!” “Is it?” Enki smiled at his granddaughter. “We’ll see, my child, we’ll see.” The End |