I must admit that I expected a lot more from "Gilgamesh" than the authors delivered.
Considering the source material: twelve tablets of minuscule cuneiform; I was ready for an elaborate rendition of mankind's oldest epic story: an adventure, overflowing with emotion. What I got, instead, was a passable book of one man's struggle against common literary conflicts, and his sexual escapades with women... and men.
Now, don't get me wrong, I know that all great literature builds off of one of the classic conflicts: Man vs Man, Man vs Society, Man vs Nature, or Man vs Self, and that sex is a part of our history. "Gilgamesh" certainly doesn't lack in any of those departments, delivering explicit sex, and harrowing encounters with man, monster, and god.
My real qualm with the novel is what it does lack: fantasy.
At its heart, the Epic of Gilgamesh is a legendary Sumerian fantasy, about one man's battle against himself, the world he lives in, and the gods who oversee it. The cuneiform tablets are full of commonly encountered fantastical elements: monsters, heroes, trials, gods, spirits, and vibrant worlds. What the Grundy's have done though, is replace all of that with hardline history.
And the story, ultimately, suffers for it.
"Gilgamesh" begins with a young Gilgamesh, the son of Lugalbanda (a legendary war-lord), who stands to inherit his father's city: Erech, as well as the role of Ensi (high priest) of Inanna, his city-state's tutelary goddess.
Right away we encounter one of the literary conflicts: man vs society. In order for Gilgamesh to become Ensi he must participate in the sacred marriage ceremony with the high priestess of Inanna, called Shamhatu. The Shamhatu selected to be Gilgamesh's wife, and the avatar of Inanna on Earth, is a girl named Puabi, who had been Gilgamesh's rival when they were in the Sumerian school system.
Due to the influence of ancestral myths passed down in Erech, Gilgamesh has come to believe that the sacred marriage will result in his death, or, at the least, his subjugation to the Shamhatu. This fear, of death and of the role he is expected to fill in the religious/societal system, is the primary conflict of the novel.
What follows is a six-hundred page exposition on how Gilgamesh fights against his duties to the city, then against his gods and faith, and eventually against his own mortal nature, before learning that he is just a man among forces far greater than himself, and that he must inevitably fulfill the role set out for him.
Along the way Gilgamesh will embark on a journey that requires him to tame and teach a wild-man, who becomes his gay lover, and joins him in a military campaign to free Erech from the tyranny of Agga, the king of Kish, a rival city-state (man vs man).
Then Gilgamesh will attempt to destroy Humwawa, the terrifying scorpion-like guardian of the Cedar Forest, so that he can obtain beautiful wood with which to build a gate that will echo his greatness for all eternity, before doing battle with the Bull of Heaven, a plague sent by the gods to punish Gilgamesh (man vs nature).
And finally, Gilgamesh will watch as his lover dies, before travelling to the Land of the Dead himself, where he will confront his own fear of death, and the ghost of his lost lover, before learning the truth about the nature of human life (man vs self).
There is so much potential here for great story-telling, and epic mythological literature.
Unfortunately, the Grundy's opted to try and rationalize Gilgamesh, to re-interpret the myth in search of possible kernels of truth. While I cannot complain about the effort, as they certainly fill the book with plenty of history, culture, and religious information that I did find enlightening, I cannot help but feel that some of the magic of the myth was discarded in the process.
Gilgamesh is a legend, about demi-god, whose story is meant to take us to places that we, as mere human beings, simply cannot follow, and I feel like the Grundy's "Gilgamesh" never truly left the world into which he was born.