I reread the Epic of Gilgamesh (Stephen Mitchell Translation) and wanted to share my thoughts on the titular character.
While introduced as a demigod with immense strength and build, but he abuses his power, seeing his own people as beneath him as he takes what he wants from them.
However, he’s not without depth. As both king and someone who is two-thirds divine and one-third human, he is already set apart from everyone else. He isn’t just above them in status, but fundamentally different from them.
That distance keeps him from connecting with those around him, and not knowing how to doesn't just breed arrogance, it creates isolation.
It doesn't excuse his actions, as it's why his journey is so necessary. He craved companionship.
Then Enkidu shows up. Whether they’re best friends or lovers, he is an equal—the first person who can actually meet Gilgamesh where he is. After that first fight, they become inseparable.
And their actions that follow reflect that shift as Gilgamesh's character is deepened. Killing Humbaba for the cedar trees and then the Bull of Heaven isn’t about heroics, but about chasing a kind of immortality they think is possible: through fame. They feel invincible, like they can take on the whole world.
But when Enkidu dies, everything breaks.
Life is no longer a party. Death is very real, inevitable, and if it can take someone Gilgamesh loves so dearly, then he has no chance against it. It isn’t something he can fight.
He goes from a fearless “hero” to a terrified and desperate traveler—not chasing glory, but escaping death itself.
When he meets Siduri, the tavern keeper at the edge of the world, he lists all his accomplishments. And what does she do?
She doesn’t praise him. She doesn’t validate him. She just asks if he’s okay.
And that says everything.
All of a sudden, everything he built his identity around meant nothing in the face of someone who actually understands life. She tells him to stop chasing immortality, to live the best life he can, and when the time comes, to accept death.
And even though he kept insisting on finding a way to become immortal, something had already shifted inside him.
So when he loses the plant, he doesn’t react in anger or despair. He just accepts it.
And that’s the turning point.
Because when he returns to Uruk and looks at the walls, it’s no longer about his ego. He sees what will last beyond him.
His acceptance of death’s inevitability, and his newfound respect for the beautiful yet fleeting nature of life, allowed him to finally embrace his human side.
He begins the epic trying to escape being human, and ends it understanding what it means to be one.
His story still lasts, not because he finds immortality, but because he becomes someone worth immortalizing.
