(Essay 2) The Giant Huwawa by Hearth Moon Rising

This essay can be read on its own, or first part is here.

Gilgamesh’s assault on the forest giant Huwawa has several written forms. The later Akkadian version is most widely known, as it forms part of the much longer Epic of Gilgamesh. There are other extant versions in the earlier Sumerian, however. They are part of a collection of stories about Gilgamesh and his servant Enkidu that emerged at the beginning of written narrative poetry, sometime before 2000 B.C.E.

Gilgamesh was king of Sumer (now southern Iraq) around 2700 B.C.E. Dead kings of this period had ritual cults, and there were special hymns to Gilgamesh recorded in the centuries after his death. The Sumerian Gilgamesh stories as a whole are not integrated, but they have some repetitive themes. These include heroic impulses, apprehension of death, and appreciation of wilderness. Sumerians were justly proud of their wealthy cities, yet there is a strain of recognition in even the earliest stories that something has been sacrificed in the pursuit of civilization.

In the longest Sumerian version of “Gilgamesh and Huwawa,” our hero, like generations of Kilroys to follow, feels inspired to put his name on a faraway place. He will make his mark on the Land of the Living One’s Mountain, also called the Cedar Forest, through an expedition. The sun god Utu (Shamash in Akkadian) does not think much of this plan. He chides Gilgamesh to remember that he has a prominent place in his city of Uruk but is a nobody in the Cedar Forest.

Gilgamesh responds by whining that he has seen men die and knows he cannot escape death. Can’t he just have this one thing? In Akkadian and Sumerian texts, Gilgamesh does a lot of whining, and his favorite thing to whine about is the inevitability of his distant death. While most of his countrymen are resigned to an eventual one-way journey to the world below (just not today, please!), Gilgamesh is a farseeing man. Utu takes pity on his tears and grants Gilgamesh his blessing, which includes seven divine warriors to accompany him and his servant Enkidu to the Cedar Forest. These are believed by scholars to be constellations used for navigation and protection.

Gilgamesh appeals for volunteers in his quest, and fifty young men from Uruk form a regiment. The party encounters a variety of hardwood trees (translations vary), which are cut down by and for the fifty men. Gilgamesh has his own heart set on a cedar of magnificent quality, and the group passes through six cedar ranges before Gilgamesh finds an acceptable tree at the seventh. So far, the biggest danger on this trip is getting hit by a tree branch or taking the wrong road. That changes when the chosen cedar hits the dirt. Huwawa, guardian of the Cedar Forest, is now alerted, and he is incensed.

Huwawa is one scary dude. He has the face of a lion, with dragon teeth, and a forehead of fire. He rushes at his prey with a wide chest, and his tongue is never sated with blood. Moreover, he is protected with seven “divine radiances” that he hurls at his foes. The first of the radiances sends Gilgamesh into a stupor. Enkidu shakes him awake, crying that it’s time to retreat, but Gilgamesh’s fears seem to desert him at curious times. He insists that the two of them can beat the giant.

Gilgamesh’s tactic for conquering Huwawa is variously called “trickery” or “cunning,” but a more accurate word would be “lying.” He bends over and puts his hands on the ground to appear less threatening, then tells Huwawa that in exchange for one of the radiances, he will give the giant his oldest sister in marriage. (What?!! you say. Calm down, he doesn’t mean it.) Huwawa accepts the offer and relinquishes his first line of defense.

These radiances of Huwawa’s are rather mysterious. They are also translated as “defensive auras.” They seem to be some kind of a psychic shield, but when surrendered they are trimmed and stacked as if they are trees. One by one Huwawa relinquishes one of his defenses in exchange for (the promise of) a present: another sister, food, shoes, precious stones. When all seven radiances have been surrendered, Gilgamesh and Enkidu win the battle with Huwawa.

Gilgamesh almost succumbs to pity as Huwawa pleads for his life. The giant appeals to Utu and to Gilgamesh himself, bemoaning the treachery that seduced him. Gilgamesh contemplates freeing the now helpless giant, but Enkidu will not hear of it, arguing that, once free, Huwawa will seek revenge and Gilgamesh will not return home alive. As in the later epic, Huwawa curses Enkidu as Enkidu cuts off his head.

The two take the head back to Sumer, to the city of Nippur, to the temple of the divine couple Enlil and Ninlil. They present the head of Huwawa as an offering, but the god Enlil is incensed. He berates Gilgamesh for killing Huwawa, exclaiming that the giant should have been treated with respect and offered good food and water. Enlil takes the seven radiances and distributes them to the fields, rivers, thickets, lions, forests, temples, and the underworld goddess Nungal. Radiances still remain, and these Enlil keeps for himself. The tale ends with the standard lines of praise, in this case to Gilgamesh and the writing goddess Nissaba.

The Sumerian versions differ from the standard Akkadian Epic in several ways, aside from the obvious fact that they are not excerpts from a longer narrative. Gilgamesh sets out to obtain a prize cedar tree, and the killing of Huwawa is incidental to that objective. Taking the cedar is an appropriation on Gilgamesh’s part, as the god Utu reminds him at the outset. Invading the forest and stealing the forbidden tree precipitates the killing of Huwawa. It’s interesting that this is the scenario that occurs today in ecological destruction. The forest habitat is destroyed, resulting in the death of the creatures that inhabit it.

The god Utua has a more benevolent relationship with Sumerian Huwawa. Though he eventually grants protection to Gilgamesh in his quest, the sun god initially tries to dissuade him from the journey, which again is not expressly to do battle with the giant. The Akkadian Gilgamesh asserts that the giant is hated by the sun god, for some unknown reason. Yet the Sumerian Huwawa prays to Utu as a protector at his defeat, a prayer that sways Gilgamesh until Enkidu asserts himself. Enkidu’s differing role in this story is pivotal. He is not Gilgamesh’s equal, but rather his right-hand man. Enkidu, not Gilgamesh, delivers the fatal blow to Huwawa, an action he takes to protect Gilgamesh.

The Sumerian version of Gilgamesh and Huwawa is most valuable in what it adds to the standard myth, not in its contradictions. In the next essay we will examine a fuller version of the giant Huwawa and the gods of the Cedar Forest, pulling information from all of the known texts.

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