A thrilling retelling of the Epic of Gilgamesh, by one of the greatest storytellers of his generation
Gilgamesh’s appetite for wine, women, and warfare is insatiable. As the King of Uruk, he oppresses his people and burdens his city. To temper his excesses, the gods create Enkidu, Gilgamesh’s equal, who becomes his greatest friend. Together they wander the kingdom as brothers, conquering demons until a cruel twist changes Gilgamesh’s path forever. Two parts god and one part man, Gilgamesh is mortal—a fate he now resolves to overcome, no matter what the price. And so he embarks on another journey, in pursuit of vengeance and the ultimate prize for a mortal king: eternal life.
This ebook features an illustrated biography of Robert Silverberg including rare images and never-before-seen documents from the author’s personal collection.
There are many authors in the database with this name.
Robert Silverberg is a highly celebrated American science fiction author and editor known for his prolific output and literary range. Over a career spanning decades, he has won multiple Hugo and Nebula Awards and was named a Grand Master by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America in 2004. Inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame in 1999, Silverberg is recognized for both his immense productivity and his contributions to the genre's evolution. Born in Brooklyn, he began writing in his teens and won his first Hugo Award in 1956 as the best new writer. Throughout the 1950s, he produced vast amounts of fiction, often under pseudonyms, and was known for writing up to a million words a year. When the market declined, he diversified into other genres, including historical nonfiction and erotica. Silverberg’s return to science fiction in the 1960s marked a shift toward deeper psychological and literary themes, contributing significantly to the New Wave movement. Acclaimed works from this period include Downward to the Earth, Dying Inside, Nightwings, and The World Inside. In the 1980s, he launched the Majipoor series with Lord Valentine’s Castle, creating one of the most imaginative planetary settings in science fiction. Though he announced his retirement from writing in the mid-1970s, Silverberg returned with renewed vigor and continued to publish acclaimed fiction into the 1990s. He received further recognition with the Nebula-winning Sailing to Byzantium and the Hugo-winning Gilgamesh in the Outback. Silverberg has also played a significant role as an editor and anthologist, shaping science fiction literature through both his own work and his influence on others. He lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with his wife, author Karen Haber.
The Gilgamesh that Robert Silverberg describes is a combination of Leonidas (as portrayed by Gerard Butler in 300), Conan (as portrayed by Arnold Schwarzenegger) and Ted Nugent: he is an alpha male with an attitude, a manly man of testosteronian power and ursine manliness, with a steaming hot side order of god-like virile manly manness.
I read five pages and dropped and GAVE MYSELF TEN PUSHUPS!!!
The almost pre-historic, shrouded in myth and legend setting made me think of Creation by Gore Vidal and Norman Mailer’s Ancient Evenings.
I also had to check out the Gilgamesh listing in Deities & Demigods: Cyclopedia of Gods and Heroes from Myth and Legend (Gary Gygax and company describes him as having 180 hit points and is a Neutral Good 12th level ranger / 5th level Cleric –Druid / 10th level magic user / 11th level monk and 5th level bard!).
Gilgamesh (two parts god and one part man) was a legendary ancient hero king of Sumer who was likely a historical figure, living sometime between 2800 BC and 2500 BC. Silverberg bases his historical fiction account on the Epic of Gilgamesh and gives vibrant life to the tale, describing Gilgamesh’s Herculean adventures in first person narrative.
I've learned so much from this novel - about the culture, history and beliefs of the early people of Mesopotamia. Silverberg researched the subject well, and managed to bring to life the old myths of Gilgamesh, who went looking for eternal life. This modern version really helped me understand these old peoples' way of thinking, how natural phenomena connected with their religious beliefs, and how they explained them. Beyond that, there are many universal things in this story in terms of the human condition - loneliness, loyalty, fear of death, friendship and betrayal, and more. Silverberg surprised me with how good his writing is, and how well he has made everything believeable and understandable, even when things are much different than in our world. All in all, he provided us with the opportunity to read this ancient story in an enriching and enlightening way. Very enjoyable and readable.
This is a novelization/memoir style telling of the Epic of Gilgamesh that's totally NOT GAY.
I have not read/studied the Epic of Gilgamesh, so I don't know how well the story would roll with academics who know such things intimately, and I'm generally going to miss any subtext of what was going on or what constituted pop-culture in ancient Mesopotamia, but overall, it is hitting most of the major plot points I remember. In this story, first person told by Gilgamesh, he's the most amazing, awesomest, strongest, sexiest thing ever, and of course everything is about him. While I get that he's a hero of old, the whole thing just feels like a petulant boy stomping about, even when he's older.
The story isn't super consistent, main example: the initial driving force for Gilgamesh is that Inanna, or the priestess of Inanna, is the great love of his life, who he spends a good portion of the book freaking out about, because she's having ritual sexy times with Dumuzi the king, but then he treats her like utter shit for no particular reason (the idea of a conspiracy between her and the King of Kish is punted about, but doesn't seem to be a driving force between the two or really mentioned much in his reasoning).
Anyhoodle, he rants and raves around, for a good part of the book, until we get to the bit with Enkidu, which Gilgamesh tells us is DEFINITELY NOT GAY so many times, you can't help but get the homophobia present in the book. He'll mention it several times later on, and he even doubles-down on the homophobia (initially) by bringing up homosexuality and then mentioning that homosexual relationships are less than heterosexual ones... Keep bringing it, Silverberg).
So this story is generally the Epic of Gilgamesh, with Silverberg filling in to give him a more fleshed out childhood and then ordering everything in such a way that it seems to make sense, gods and all. And totally NOT GAY. But for all of that, it's a dry and stilted tale; whether this is intentional or just shoddy writing, I'm not entirely sure, but I didn't enjoy it.
I'm not the biggest fan of Silverberg (I have many friends/acquaintances that are, which is why I'll pick his stuff up on sale like I did this work), but I was really disappointed in this novel.
And then to make matters worse - I listened to the audiobook, so I'll review the reader because I think it's more important in this book than some of the others:
The narrator is AWFUL (William Coon). He drags out vowels and certain syllables in a way I can't get (as in, I don't understand the choice to do so). He has an American accent, but I haven't run into a regional thing where people do this, and his voice is so atonal, it feels like I'm listening to BirdPerson from Rick and Morty telling the tale. I spent more time than I'd like to admit, paying attention to the book to see if I didn't like the book/story or I didn't like the narrator. Maybe (probably not) this style of narrating would work for an actual epic poem, but not here. It's a rare, terrible narrator that is so absolutely bad that I'm not sure he's not making me dislike the book more than I already do. If you speed the narration up to 1.3x regular reading, you start to approach a more normal pacing, though the tonality doesn't improve.
-Convertir el poema épico antiquísimo en una novela y con cierto sentido del realismo.-
Género. Novela (que hace ficción sobre un mito antiquísimo, eso sí).
Lo que nos cuenta. El hijo de Lugalbanda, rey de la ciudad de Uruk, queda en una posición noble pero no real cuando su padre muere. Al ir creciendo, descubre que es mucho más fuerte, rápido y letal que cualquier hombre, y el propio rey de Uruk ve en él una amenaza al trono. Gilgamesh, nombre por el que es conocido el muchacho, escapa de la ciudad antes de que su vida corra peligro.
¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:
Silverberg is more famously known for his sci-fi works, but here he turns his hand at semi-historical – a sub-category of historical fiction utilising ancient myths and legends and attempting to retell them in a historically accurate and plausible way. Since I’d just finished reading The Epic of Gilgamesh, I thought I’d check out Silverberg’s reworking.
In some ways, this book was just what I had been craving. Whilst I greatly appreciated the themes and importance of The Epic, it leaves something to be desired from a literary point of view and is clearly much better told out loud than read. I admit I longed for the story to be retold from more modern literary sensibilities, and Silverberg did just that. Like most other novels in this sub-genre, Silverberg completely eliminates all elements of the fantastical. So the gigantic demon Huwawa is transformed into a tectonic faultline where the land is dotted with fearsome volcanoes and great crevasses splitting the earth. The goddess Inanna, who becomes angry with Gilgamesh in the myth, is merely her high priestess, who is widely believed to be the goddess’ mortal incarnation. And so on and so forth. I thought that Silverberg filled the gaps well, retelling the myth as close as possible to the original whilst removing all fantastical elements. I question his assertion in his author’s note that there is ‘no doubt’ that Gilgamesh was historical – well, there is a lot of doubt, so the question remains up in the air – but I was satisfied with the retelling.
However, it was only after I put the book down that I wished it had offered more. Silverberg sticks so closely to the original legend that nothing new is really brought to the table. Maybe I’m used to it because I’ve been consuming a lot of stories recently that are very good at creating twists and fresh obstacles and unexpected turns – but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect that our literature be well-written, dramatic, and engrossing. Silverberg kind of just sticks to a handful of protagonists, none of whom except Gilgamesh himself are really explored in depth, and I had the sense that the story lacked a wider, more detailed, and riveting view of Uruk’s life and times. Silverberg doesn’t really try to do anything interesting with Gilgamesh either, he remains as the stock strongman king figure who doesn’t really take an interest in the hardships of other people so long as his life is okay and he gets what he wants. Not exactly the most fascinating protagonist ever.
I would say that the book is more satisfying than dissatisfying, to be sure; it simply could’ve done so much more.
I have long been familiar with the classic Epic of Gilgamesh (I first taught it to prep-school ninth-graders around 1990 or so). Likely the earliest long work in literature, it is the first story of a tyrant gone soft (viz Scrooge), the first story of a mortal grappling with death (his own and those of his loved ones), and the first "buddy movie" (road trip included).
The original Epic is full of gaps, as not all the tablets it was inscribed on have been found. But that's no problem for Silverberg, as he novelized the heck out of a fairly spare story, adding characters and dialogue at will.
It was fun.
The thing I liked best about this telling was the rationalizing of all the supernatural elements. As it turns out, no demon exists except in the imagination; no god/dess exists except in the form of a priest/ess; and no immortality exists except in the "Operator Game"-like function of folk story, as well as in the sense of leaving one's legacy.
The original is considered to be a source of some of the Bible's stories; or, more likely, they both draw on a common pool of source material. Silverberg's book will not be inspiring any new religions; but for this Humanist, it's a fresh take on some dessicating old material, and reinforces some of my peculiar rationalist biases.
Une magnifique épopée du Grand Maître de la SFFF. Je n'avais plus lu de Silverberg depuis bien 15-20 ans et j'ai adoré retrouver la plume de l'auteur, très solide ici mais néanmoins délicate. Comme toujours les récits à la première personne me plaisent énormément, facilitant l'introspection. Les descriptions sont nombreuses mais pas lourdes et les paroles prophétiques données au héros nous poussent à continuer avec avidité notre lecture. Ça m'a fait plaisir de retrouver cet auteur 🥺🤩
A masterful retelling of the Epic of Gilgamesh from SF Grandmaster Robert Silverberg. Silverberg abandons genre elements in this novel, but the bronze age world of Gilgamesh is as alien as any Majipoor novel. Is this bronzepunk? I don't know, but I liked it.
I've read dozens of Silverberg's books and enjoyed almost all of them very much, but this one just didn't capture my attention. I kept losing focus and wandering away and eventually rolled my eyes every time Gil said he was going to bang on his drum and he wasn't gay, which he seemed to say a lot. It may be a historically accurate and plausible retelling of the Gilgamesh epic, and obviously many other readers liked it a lot so you should probably trust those better-educated people more than me, but I thought it was kind of dull. I finished it, but it became an effort.
I should have abandoned this book. The one-dimensional characters and plot were full of stereotypes: objectified women, homophobia, racial stereotypes to name a few. Even the power struggle between Gilgamesh and the goddess is one-sided with her one-dimensional character portrayed as the spurned and angry female. The reenactment of the poem fails on many levels.
This was quite good. The author described in his Intro that he was presenting the Epic of Gilgamesh as if an adventure memoir, and I found that really effective.
Gilgamesh lived approximately 5000 years ago, in the Tigris-Euphrates valley of what is now Iraq, in 2800 BC. His saga was “composed” orally at roughly the same time, first appearing in Sumerian cuneiform in roughly 2000 BC, then were later copied and translated into Akkadian and Hittite versions over the next 1000 years. Tablets whose dates ranged from 1700 BC to 700 BC have been found throughout Mesopotamia and even beyond, indication of the durability and the extent of this saga. (To give further perspective, while the Bible chronicles events pre-dating and contemporaneous with Gilgamesh, the actual written sources for the Bible didn’t appear until the late first millennium BC, which was also the time the events of Homer’s Iliad were occurring in ancient Ionia.)
Gilgamesh’s story—of a man so obsessed with grief at the loss of his friend that he tries to overcome death itself—is unique for the period because it is rife with human concerns and human activity. This is no mean accomplishment when one considers that societies in this region at this time were largely deistic. People were obliged to answer to deities whose existence permeated every aspect of their lives; obeisance to this or that god was second nature, perhaps even first nature, which in itself raises interesting psycho-historical questions about the development of contemporary thought. Theories suggest that the distinction between dream matter and waking consciousness was not clear, that it was easy to develop a world view filled with an ascending chain of being, from an underworld to a heaven.
Julian Jaynes’s theory of the development of introspective consciousness comes into play in this epoch, as it is in the writings of the Bible and the Iliad that Jaynes sees the glimmers of a transition from the one sort of mental reality to the other. Jaynes’s theory holds that the right hemisphere of the brain early on in man’s mental development communicated with the left hemisphere via auditory stimuli, that there was a synaptic disconnect so that it was a voice (or voices) that directed a person’s behavior.
While the saga of Gilgamesh focuses on the human aspects of his character and behavior, his story is still embroidered and ordered with concern for gods. Robert Silverberg removes the gods, and while they still appear in his telling as beings to whom people do obeisance, they are not vital entities or agents in his account. Gilgamesh is imagined as a strong and driven man who is compelled by unique circumstances to undertake a quest to understand the nature of death so that he might overcome it. Silverberg does an admirable job of making Gilgamesh a character with contemporary introspective consciousness, though still imbued with his time’s conception of a god-driven reality.
Silverberg’s conceit is that Gilgamesh is at the end of the story composing his memoirs, which begin with his father’s death when he is six years old. He comes to rule the city of Uruk in alliance with the goddess Inanni (Ishtar), who is incarnate in a high priestess. Gilgamesh strength and size have always isolated him, and his energy and drive further alienate him from his people. It is only the appearance of the wild man Enkidu that brings Gilgamesh restful, joyful companionship. Their friendship leads them to adventures and trials that ultimately bring them both in conflict with Inanni, who engineers Enkidu’s death.
Gilgamesh is driven by grief and fear of his own mortality to leave the city, aimlessly heading into unknown territory. At some point his madness leaves him and he purposefully seeks answers of Ziusudra (Ut-napishtim), mortal survivor of the deluge that was by the gods given immortality. This wandering in the desert and spiritual quest reveal to Gilgamesh the verities of life, that there is only living, that fulfilling one’s place in the scheme of things is all that may be expected. He returns to Uruk, but first deals with the challenge of Inanni who seeks to displace him. Gilgamesh turns the tables, kills her, and replaces her with a priestess who shares the rule of Uruk at his pleasure.
Silverberg’s story brings an introspective consciousness into a world where ritual and gods dictate behavior. Though his Gilgamesh is still beholding to these rituals and gods, he is uniquely able as king to transgress and to question the meaning of life itself. There are the prescribed steps in the progress to enlightenment, and very much like Siddhartha (and a legion of other transcendent thinker/moralists), Silverberg’s Gilgamesh touches on them all. At the end, however, he is compelled to fulfill his destiny as king, to rule his people and see to the building of his city’s walls.
By heightening the relationship of Gilgamesh with Inanni—a relationship of power, love, and reproach—Silverberg aptly uses the robust framework of the Gilgamesh saga to re-tell a timeless story of great passion, adventure, treachery, conspiracy, despair, and enlightenment.
Everything I expected - epic, mythic, historic! Silverberg is good writer and does a very readable adaptation, although I admit I'm not familiar with the source material. This book is in the vein of May Renault's books (eg The Bull From The Sea) and T.E. Lawrance's version of Homer's Odyssey, although with more modern prose than the latter. That's actually it's one slight failing, IMO. I prefer these legends to be retold using more formal, "mythic" language, as Lawrence does. This gives the text a more timeless feel. Nevertheless this is a great read; Silverberg has mixed a lot of everyday life into the tales, stringing them into a memoir format which works well. The hubris and arrogance of Gilgamesh come through clearly, as does his sense of entitlement!
This would have been a four, but for the narration by William Coon, whose reading style was not strong enough for such a super human figure as Gilgamesh. The story was epic, and believable. I first read it back in the 1980s when it was published and I remember being so impressed with it I read one of the source books on Gilgamesh to find out more about the legend. He conquered death by conquering his fear of death. Many people who have a good relationship with The Creator are able to achieve that blessed state. Gilgamesh believed in many gods. I believe in one. I don't think it matters in the end.
Silverberg is always good, often great, here he is at his greatest. An epic story retold in modern format. The great King who conquers all, but what he fears most—death. A dream-like quality, mythic, primitive, primal, intimate, compelling and surprisingly real. The sequel, where Gilgamesh continues his life and adventures in the afterlife, is equally good. I did read the novel way before this 2005 edition, but no longer have those details.
Solid mythic retelling, I don't know the original but the removal of gods and in their place their preistesses or natural events worked for me.
Saw some recognisable scenes that were influential in modern storytelling and of course game of thrones.
The audio version I listened to had an American narrator. I do think a middle Eastern accent would have lent a huge amount to the story, but the narration was generally fine.
Pretty much enjoyed the story and the audiobook version. An ancient heroes epic adapted with a nice flow to it story wise. Not quite what I expected, but that was a good thing.
Gilgamesh the King is written as a captivating first-person story narrated by Gilgamesh himself. Focusing on a more historical aspect and the various rites involved in ancient Sumeria, there are still some demons, such as the guardian of the cedar forest. The Bull of Heaven is made mortal and rather easily slain. Important characters such as Inanna, Enkidu, and Ziusudra/Uta-Napishti are still prevalent and lean upon the younger Babylonian version. Gilgamesh the king still leans heavily upon Gilgamesh’s fear of death and his struggles to conquer it (death itself, not his fear of it).
“Gilgamesh will not be forgotten. He will not be left to trail his wings mournfully in the dust. They will remember me in joy and pride. What will they say of me? They will say that I lived, and I lived well; that I strived, and I strived well; that I died, and I died well. I feared death as no man ever did, and went to the ends of the world to escape him, in which I failed; but when I returned I feared him no longer. That is the truth. I know now that we need not fear death, if we have done our tasks. And when we cease to fear death, there is no death. That is the truest truth I know: There is no death.”
This very nearly is the type of book I was looking for for years. A story taking place in Ancient Mesopotamia, unblemished with the Holier than thou attitude of men named Daniel being condescending to Assyrians for not having the right religion. It is sad that this is such a rarity, at least it was until recently.
The background for the story is rich and is very well executed, perhaps only the fact that the amount of Gods Silverberg names at times is rather small, though of course that may have something to do with trying to put oneself into the mindset of a man of the 25th century BC, before the growth and expansion of the religious landscape in succeeding centuries. That would be a fair point, though the roster of deities invoked is surprisingly small regardless.
Some inconsistencies with more modern interpretations, given that the sources used as refference were at the latest ones from the mid 1950s, those are also completely excusable.
However the one reason I am knocking a point off, the thing I can not forgive Silverbeg for having done and that is to reduce all the genuine supernatural trappings of the original myth down to visions and ecstatic possessions. Worst of all he reduces Humbaba, the one called a battering ram in some of the earlier translations (the ones I assume Silverberg must have himself been using) into nothing more than a cloud of smoke and the Bull of Heaven into nothing more than a runaway Bull that is _said_ to have the essence of the real thing in it. The former pains me especially as I have always, since my earliest childhood, been fascinated by Giants, and though the Greeks have more than you can shake a stick at, I would have loved to see how this would have been handled in a less realistic fashion. The set up until that moment is tense and leaves you on the edge of your seat, but to be rewarded by a simple large puff of smoke is the embodiment of disappointment.
The Flood story too is scaled down a peg and Ziusudra is not even immortal, nor is the one in the book really the genuine Ziusudra.
One wonders if Silverberg had allowed himself to write a much more fantastic story featuring Gilgamesh, as I have been told is the case with his anthologised sequel stories, edited into To the Land of the Living, I have to raise a slight protest and ask: why leave out the true fantasy from the genuine article, why deprive us of the sport of a gigantic, divine bull, the joy of reading of the slaying of a real giant, whose breath is death, engendered in the mountains ?
Based on my podcast's featuring the Epic of Gilgamesh recently, Jesse from SFFaudio offered me this audiobook review copy. I have only listened to the first hour or so but it is interesting thus far. It may help that I have the bare bones of the Gilgamesh epic in mind. Again, I am put in mind of the Mary Stewart Merlin trilogy or the Mary Renault stories in the old style of story telling. The reading is very good so far and that is, naturally, a big plus.
Update: I am really enjoying this tale, which is told in the first person by the young man who will become Gilgamesh the King. Greatly adding to my enjoyment is the reading by William Coon of Eloquent Voice. It is hard to put my finger on just what makes his reading speak to me so, but he is the voice of Gilgamesh for me.
Update the second: The story (on #6 of the recorded sections now) has now begun merging with the admittedly abbreviated version I know of the Epic of Gilgamesh. However, Silverberg has taken me so well into that mythic time that it is flowing smoothly with what came before (and that could well have been part of the epic too, just a part I don't know). Loving it still...
This is a very well written, and while I have a few minor quibbles, little of them have to do with the writing or the story itself. This is an adaptation of the story of Gilgamesh, perhaps the oldest narrative in existence. It also attempts to de-mythologize the events of the epic, and place it firmly in a realistic milieu. I find this both to be a strength and a weakness. All events can be explained rationally, but the book does a very good job of depicting some of the cultural beliefs of the Sumerians, with very few anachronisms. Silverberg has a wide ranging historical knowledge, so he is pretty accurate in his depictions, and the few departures I believe are probably a conscious choice. The story is written from the first person point of view of Gilgamesh. Perhaps my biggest quibble with the book is that any innovation in Sumerian culture is ascribed to the efforts of Gilgamesh, which may also be an intentional choice on the part of Silverberg, to show how vain and narcissistic Gilgamesh can be. He is a flawed hero, but a very interesting one. I have a great love for the historical period being depicted, and this is probably the only novel that comes close to being at all accurate.
This is one of those books where I got hooked by the end of the first paragraph. I was already familiar with the epic of Gilgamesh and wondered what Robert Silverberg would do with it. I didn't realize that this was the beginning of a series. This book is complete in and of itself.
My library classified this as science fiction, but it's not. It's more like historical fiction or, at a stretch, historical fantasy. But really, who cares what genre it is when it is such a good story? There is a good reason why the epic of Gilgamesh is the oldest written story in the world (I think) -- it faces the hardest question of all -- how can you deal with the fact that you are going to die?
One note: at some point, Silverberg writes of "the servants of death/ Erishkegal." This means MAGGOTS, folks. Just thought you needed to know. You're welcome.
Apparently, there have been movies made about the epic of Gilgamesh but I have not seen any of them ... and probably won't. (Shudders in horror.)
Having read several translations of the Epic of Gilgamesh (the Andrew George one is very good), I have wanted to read Silverberg's novel for years. Somehow, though, I always thought I would be disappointed. I finally, due to the glories that is Kindle, got around to it. I am far from disappointed. Much like Mary Renault, Silverberg took what history of the true Gilgamesh there is and the Epic itself, and imaginatively fashioned a first-person narrative that gives the more mythic and magical aspects of the epic realistic renditions and logical explanations. And yet this does not diminish the "mythic" power of the story at all. Indeed, it may enhance it. For this earliest known literary epic presents the, obviously, age-old and universal truths of the need for and joy companionship, the responsibilities of duty, the pain of loss, and the shock of mortality. This makes the epic forever relatable. But Silverberg, in giving us Gilgamesh's story before the events of the epic and the epic itself, in Gilgamesh's voice, makes this ancient king's story emotional and immediate and soliciting of our empathy. All in beautifully written prose.
Very different in style from his SF novels but also very enjoyable. Factional type novel set in prehistory times (approx 5000 years ago) and dealing with Gilgamesh, who became King of the Sumerians. While it deals a lot with the capriciousness of the gods and has plenty of fantasy elements these are all dealt with as would be by ancient society and all have a rational interpretation. Deals to a large extent with the lust for power and the struggle between the high priestess of the Kingdom and the King. Also deals with Gilgamesh's personnel development and his transition from all powerful monarch who tramples over all in his path to a more reflective monarch who appreciate the mutual obligations of absolute power. Much of the novel is based on the Epic of Gilgamesh written some 4500 years ago. Enjoyable read which hangs together well and shows another side of Silverberg, though maybe not, as weaving a story that hangs together well is also a province of SF authors.
The “Epic of Gilgamesh” is an ancient epic Sumerian poem about the exploits of Gilgamesh, the greatest king of Uruk in Mesopotamia. It tells the tale of how he overworked his people to build a great kingdom, his friendship with the wild man Enkidu who was sent by the gods to distract him, his battles with the goddess Inanna, the earliest account of the great flood, and his journey seeking immortality. Silverberg’s book is a novelization of the epic with some liberties taken, particularly the interaction with the gods. The result is a highly readable retelling of what is considered the first piece of literature in human history. I was completely engrossed in the book, both from an historical perspective and by the wonderful prose that Silverberg is known for.
I brought this book along for the plane trip from Chicago to San Francisco as a gift for my host (and former roommate) Tom Miley and his wife. It is a modern retelling of the Gilgamesh story and not, in my opinion, especially insightful as regards the milieux of the original. The focus is more on the character of the protagonist.