Greetings. I write tonight just to get some thoughts out of my head and in concrete form. I've nearly finished my interpretation of that beloved Sumerian/Mesopotamian tale The Epic of Gilgamesh, but I'm afraid I've hit a bit of a snag - a minor snag, but a snag nonetheless. I've come to realize that some of my editing is not as a result of what will fit into an hour'ish stage production of this piece, but rather because of what I worry an audience will accept. This is unacceptable! I realized this annoying fact early this afternoon when I spoke with my would-be dramaturg James E.W. Bennett, who cautioned me to "never alter the integrity of a piece for worry of offending an audience." Such advice came at a necessary time, for I'd considered cutting what is an integral point in the epic for fear that an audience might not accept it: the prostitute and Enkidu's blaming of her for civilizing him. I'd considered cutting this point/the related lines because I worried the audience would perceive this as a chauvinistic jeer at women and would distance viewers from the heartbreak of Enkidu's death. Also, I feared that the line of the piece, "...and a man sees death in things," would be compromised by this throwback to the prostitute. By speaking with James, I've decided that not should this line remain, but it is essential to the audience's understanding of the entirety of the plot!This epic is centered around the notion that one must nurture that yin and yang of one's being in order to achieve that age-old state of true manhood and stability. The only reason Enkidu is introduced to the knowledge of the outside world is because of the temple prostitute teaching him the ways of "modern man". This knowledge ultimately led him to his would-be soulmate Gilgamesh. Likewise, had Gilgamesh not acknowledged his loneliness and sent said prostitute to Enkidu in the woods, having heard of a "beast of the Steppe", he would not have been united with his other half. Therefore, a woman is not the bane that one might be tempted to assume Enkidu is referring to, but the knowledge that comes with knowing the larger scope of being. That is to say that with the joy of knowing one's whole self is the pain of the realization of the existence of horrid things in this life - namely Death in this narrative, or the prospect that joy itself is not everlasting. To sum up, Enkidu damns his newfound knowledge, for he's found joys he has to let go of in his death - he's not damning women. In knowing/recognizing this fully, I can include these lines unaltered and allow the audience to make what they will of them as is their right.
Also, I've discovered an interesting pattern in the latter half of Gilgamesh that I'm not sure what to do with yet. Where Gilgamesh worries he'll be lonesome now that Enkidu is dead, he encounters/is apart of various pairs throughout part III of the narrative. First, he encounters the pair of the Scorpion people that guard the mountain of Mashu, a man and his wife that can kill at a glance like Medusa. Second, he encounters Siduri who refreshes him and offers to be a pair with him and to love him in the place of his friend - he refuses and journeys on. Next he encounters Urshanabi, who in one translation travels the would-be river Styx with Gilgamesh in another pair because Gilgamesh destroys the pair of stones that otherwise would have led him across alone. Gilgamesh is paired with Utnapishtim for a lengthy portion during the Flood explanation like father and son, and lastly Utnapishtim (in utter opposition to the notion of the "female place" in this narrative earlier) is eternally paired with his beloved wife, with whom he shares such an intimate connection that she and he need not speak. I'm especially interested in exploring -that- relationship in mask-format and rehearsal. Overall, these last scenes become interesting 2-3 person scenes and very intimate where the first two-thirds of the tale were rather "epic" in proportional comparison. Interesting...
More to come as I delve deeper/try to preserve the text for what it is rather than what I fear an audience will understand in play-format. Stay tuned and think on life.
"Let your belly be full. Make every day a day of rejoicing. Dance and play every night. Let your raiment be clean. Let your wife rejoice in your breast, and cherish the little one holding your hand. -- Old Babylonian version (Sippar iii.1-14)"
-Jo-
P.S. A short video of some spoken-word presentation of the epic to lyre.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TSWEeBGhz4M&feature=related
