The Representation of Mythology in Third Millennium Cylinder Seals

Alan Poon

Honors 251.005

Term Paper

December 10, 2002

The cylinder seals of Mesopotamia are exceptional as artifacts of the myths prevalent among the ancient peoples of that region. In particular, the seals of the third millennium, encompassing the Early Dynastic and Akkadian periods of rule, and especially the latter of these two, contain abundant depictions of the mythology associated with the literary record of the second millennium and later. For us, they are apt windows into the mythology of the time not only because of the visual representations they afford, but also because they have been excavated in large numbers. If we can correlate the visual representations with elements found in the written records, and how they are portrayed, then we gain significant understanding of the ways in which the ancient Mesopotamian mythology was developed and established. In fact, such endeavors to unite various seals with literary counterparts have been the subject of many studies already. One trend which emerges from such analysis is the antecedence of the mythological cylinder seals to the literary elements associated with them. We can take this to mean that the mythological elements present in cylinder seal depictions represent the simpler, experimental foundations of what would later be formalized in the literary record, an idea which has been put forth by scholars including Frankfort (1939) and Steinkeller (1992). The first part of this paper’s discussion will aim to demonstrate these trends for a pair of notable mythological motifs in a historical context, and review the inquiry that has so far been invested in this topic. I will note in the second part how those cylinder seals with mythological associations tend also to incorporate three-dimensional relief into the artistic rendering.

A mythological element appears in the ancient cylinder seals dating back only as far as the Early Dynastic period, but the cylinder seals themselves have roots as early as the Uruk period of the fourth millennium. The earliest cylinders were initially used as a means of identifying and preserving the seals of vessels containing merchandise or other possessions. Eventually, though, they came to be used to mark legal documents, and acquired a decorative and artistic appreciation. Of the Uruk cylinders which include seal depictions, Frankfort distinguishes three groups: those of purely decorative significance, those portraying action or historical scenes, and those including figures which assume symbolical value in later times. In this last group, there are images of gods, real and imagined animals, ritual scenes, and human figures. These images, undoubtedly of high secular and perhaps even religious importance for the time, together did not constitute the systematic depiction of mythology that would follow in ages to come. Gods were represented not in explicit form but often by symbols related to their general characteristics. For example, the god associated with reproduction and nature manifests as a range of symbols in various seals, including flowers and plants, a pair of entwined snakes, and animals of predation and prey arranged in opposition and file. The importance of animals to the repertoire of seal designs and to the representation of gods is established in these early examples. Another motif which involves animals is the defense of flocks against beasts of prey. In these, a herdsman is shown defending some domesticated animal, representative of a sacred herd, against a lion or similar creature. These depictions were probably wholly secular in nature, imitating the very real circumstances faced by herdsman, but the defense of flocks is a motif that will eventually adopt mythological dimension. Thus, we find in the Uruk cylinder seals an assortment of depictions which are certainly symbolic in nature, though not unified by any strict body of mythology. Nonetheless, the use and context of such images in the Uruk anticipates their incorporation into mythological depictions of later times.

In terms of the subjects of depictions, the following Jemdet Nasr period shows little change from the Uruk. In fact, most of the change associated with Jemdet Nasr cylinder seals derives from a markedly different artistic style, which I will discuss later in this paper. As for the kinds of things represented, the Jemdet Nasr repertoire seems mostly to be, for those motifs which did not fall into disuse during this period, a continuation of those found in the Uruk. We find, for example, seals with images of real and imaginary creatures, sacred herds, and animal files, all of which derive from the Uruk period. There is one noteworthy change, however. The Mother-Goddess, who was in the Uruk period represented only by her symbol, is depicted in person in several Jemdet seals. She appears human, but wears on her head a horned crown, which would become the standard marker for divine figures. Apart from this change there are slight variations in the motifs from the Uruk period, but in an anagogical sense the Jemdet Nasr period is indistinguishable from its predecessor.

With the Early Dynastic period following that of Jemdet Nasr, we come to the cylinder seals of the third millennium. Of the three Dynastic periods, the EDI seals bear little relevance on our discussion. Much like the Jemdet Nasr seals, they show little variation in symbolic imagery, in favor of continued experimentation with artistic technique. The seals of the EDII period are similarly beside the thesis of this paper, although they possess qualities worth mentioning here in anticipation of the EDIII seals. Their primary motif is the defense of flocks and herds against beasts of prey, which had earlier been important in Uruk period seal depictions. There is one major variation, however, as Frankfort notes: “The brunt of the battle is usually borne by divine or mythological beings, who are often the sole antagonists of the wild beasts.” Thus, we find for the first time since the Uruk seals the novel depiction of gods and divine beings, and considerable expansion on a preexisting motif, pursuits lacking in the Jemdet Nasr and EDI seals. The most commonly depicted divine creature possesses both a human torso and face, and the horns, tail, and legs of a bull, and is shown attacking the beast of prey with a crescent-shaped dagger. This is the Bull-man, though it is probable that this divine character, at least in the EDII seals and considered in isolation from other depictions, does not refer to any mythological literature. Its only role in the seal depictions is as a slayer of lions and other beasts of prey, and I submit that this Bull-man, much like the divine beings depicted in Uruk seals, is merely an arbitrarily defined creature generally associated with some function; here, the defense of flocks and herds. His role in future seals, however, will expand such that there is cause to relate him to some later myth, which I will discuss along with the seals of the EDIII period. Thus, the seals of EDII contain the reintroduction of divine beings into the seal depiction repertoire, and an expansion upon the defense-of-herds motif.

In the seals of EDIII, there are the first truly mythological allusions in the seal designs. The elements developed in the EDII seals, and originally in the Uruk seals, find ample mythological expression in the EDIII period. Here are scenes of the Sun-god, the lion-headed eagle god of fertility Imdugud, symbolic arrangements of animals, ritual and banquet scenes, and the Bull-man. It is the last character, and its relation to the Epic of Gilgamesh, which I will make an example of for the EDIII seals.

The most complete version of the Epic of Gilgamesh comes to us from the library of Assurbanipal at Nineveh, of Babylonian times, though earlier narrative poems involving Gilgamesh date to the second millennium. Gilgamesh the man was actually a king of the Sumerian city during the early part of the Early Dynastic period, though Jeremy Black and Anthony Green (1992) state that “. . . we can definitely say that during the later Early Dynastic Period a god Gilgamesh . . . was already being worshipped at a number of different places in Sumer.” A basic outline of the story is as follows: Gilgamesh, the great warrior and king, one part man and two parts divine, becomes an oppressor of his city. The god An, in order to check Gilgamesh’s behavior, creates the beastly man Enkidu, who runs wild among animals until he is civilized by a prostitute. He heads to the city to confront Gilgamesh, and the two wrestle. Gilgamesh is the victor, and wins the respect of Enkidu, who becomes his close friend and companion. They embark on several adventures, in the process killing the forest creature Khuwawa and the Bull of Heaven sent by the goddess Inana, who seeks vengeance against Gilgamesh after he refuses to become her lover. The punishment for these crimes is the death of Enkidu, and Gilgamesh, inconsolable, sets out on a journey to discover the secret to immortality. He meets an immortal man named Utanapishtim, who directs him to the plant of everlasting life. Gilgamesh discovers this plant, but is robbed of it by a serpent. At the last moment, he uses the plant to conjure Enkidu’s spirit from the dead, who gives a despondent account of the afterlife.

In the Early Dynastic seals there is no direct depiction of any of the scenes described in the Epic of Gilgamesh. There is, however, ample portrayal of the Bull-man, whom we may connect to the character of Enkidu. Enkidu, before being introduced to the civilized world, is a beast-man, of un-human form and covered in long hair, and is usually found with animals. In EDIII seals the Bull-man is also depicted as hairy, and is always shown around cattle and wild animals. Furthermore, Frankfort quotes the following passage from the Epic: “. . . taking his weapons, hunted the lions which harried the shepherds o’nights; and the jackals caught he. [So] he having mastered the lions, the shepherds slept soundly, Enkidu he was their warden.” Enkidu, taken in by shepherds, is described as a protector of the shepherds’ flocks; and in fact, this is exactly how the Bull-man is portrayed in the EDII as well as EDIII seals, as a defender of flocks and herds against beasts of prey. Of course, these observations in themselves hardly make for a positive identification of Enkidu with the Bull-man. Yet there is still a startling resemblance between the two characters, especially keeping in mind that Gilgamesh was worshipped as a god around the same time the EDII and EDIII seals were being crafted. We can surmise that, while written accounts of Gilgamesh and Enkidu were not recorded until the second millennium, the myths associated with them must have been known previously, perhaps in folk culture. Frankfort suggests, “It may well be that some author working on the Epic utilised the traditions of folk-lore concering such a being [as the Bull-man], in creating the Enkidu of the beginning of his narrative [epic].” Thus, while the Bull-man of the Early Dynastic seals can hardly be said to be an explicit portrayal of Enkidu, it is likely that the Enkidu of literature finds his roots in the Bull-man motif of EDII and EDIII seals. That is to say, the idea of Enkidu was developed and preserved in the cylinder seals before it was formally introduced in the mythological literature. This seems to be typical of the EDIII mythological repertoire; that beings of later myths, including the Sun-god and others, are represented in a limited context and in a basic manner, anticipating their extended use in later mythological works.

The same trend is apparent in the seals of the Akkadian period, but the scale of mythological incorporation into cylinder seal depictions is of a completely different order than that of EDIII. While mythological scenes indeed found expression in Early Dynastic seals, particularly the Third, they were still not entirely widespread. This is decidedly not so for the Akkadian corpus of cylinder seals. In them, one finds the most sophisticated expression of mythological subjects thus considered, as well as the broadest repertoire of symbolic imagery. Commenting on this abundant collection and its interpretation, Frankfort writes, “There are a number of texts referring to subjects dealt with by the seal-cutters of Sargon’s age. These texts are later than the seals, but though this difference in age may be a source of error, it would be exceedingly unwise to deny the irrelevancy a priori.” Thus, in the seal depictions, there are all the old symbols and images and new ones as well, all placed within an intentionally assembled context, revealing the existence of a systematic mythology as a basis for the literary corpus.

Perhaps the most well documented myth in the Akkadian seals is the legend of Etana. The written composition itself comes to us from Babylonian and Assyrian times, though the earliest copies of the story date back to the second millennium. The story begins with the gods constructing the city of Kish. After the city is completed, Enlil and Ishtar search the lands for a worthy human ruler, and select Etana as the new king of Kish. His wife, however, becomes afflicted with a disease that leaves her unable to bear children. She has a dream of a “plant of birth,” which could restore her fertility. Etana prays daily to Shamash, the Sun-god, to allow his wife to bear him a son. The story diverges at this point to relate an account of a serpent and eagle. The serpent and eagle share the root and crown of a poplar tree, respectively, and swear friendship to each other. Despite this, the eagle one day plots to kill and devour the serpent’s offspring. The serpent returns from a hunting expedition and discovers the eagle’s misdeed. Seeking vengeance, it goes to Shamash, who kills an ox and advises the serpent to hide within the dead animal and await the eagle. When the eagle comes upon the ox and begins to feed, the serpent leaps out and plucks the eagle’s feathers, clips its wings, and throws it into a deep pit. The eagle pleads with Shamash for release, who eventually takes pity. Though he cannot aid the eagle himself, the god appears in a dream to Etana, still in Kish. He tells Etana to find the pit where the eagle is confined, and in return the eagle will assist Etana in his search for the “plant of birth.” Etana does this, and the two together search the earth for the plant of birth, to no avail. The eagle then suggests they ask Ishtar for guidance, at which point Etana climbs onto the giant bird, and they begin their flight into heaven. After flying very high, though, Etana loses his nerve, and begs the eagle to land. They return to Kish, where Etana has a strange dream of visiting the greatest gods of heaven, and being attacked by Ishtar’s lions. The eagle takes this as a good portent, and the two fly into heaven again, this time successfully, making it as far as the throne of Ishtar. From this point in the story to the end the text is missing, so it is not known whether Etana obtains the plant of birth; the actual Etana, according to the Sumerian King List, is indeed succeeded by a son.

From http://www.thecityreview.com/s01cants.html

The above seal impression is a typical example of the Akkadian motif which we shall presently attempt to correlate with the Etana legend. The motif includes a bearded male clinging onto the neck of a great bird in flight, while two dogs sitting beneath them stare into the sky. A pail stands between the two dogs. Nearby is a shepherds’ compound, denoted by the shepherd walking to the left and the many-legged sheep, which we take to represent a flock. Another shepherd stands by, looking up at the man atop the bird in apparent surprise and astonishment. Quite contrarily, the other shepherd, as well as two others at the top of the sheepfold, presumably absorbed in some chore, take no notice of the spectacle, and go about their work unaware. This kind of motif recurs on enough seals that we can be confident there is some story common to them. We can be reasonably sure that this story is related to the legend of Etana, for a couple reasons. First is the similarity between the man’s flight upon the great bird in the seals, and Etana’s flight upon the eagle. The second reason, as Steinkeller proposes, is that the Sumerian King List recognizes Etana’s roots as a shepherd. If we associate the man riding the bird with the other men of the seal depiction, then he is undoubtedly also a shepherd. Yet the Legend makes no mention of this. However, because the Sumerian King List recognizes Etana as a shepherd, there is no difficulty in identifying the seal’s shepherd with the legend’s Etana. We have to accept the Sumerian King List as a reliable historical source, though, to make this conclusion; but this is no problem, since the King List is a legitimate reference by virtue of being the oldest source to mention Etana’s name. Thus, the Akkadian seals are connected to the myth of Etana by the motif of a man riding upon the back of a giant bird, soaring into the sky.

This connection between seals and myth, however, is not so simplistic. There are significant disparities between the two. If we consider all the seals which incorporate this motif as a collective body, which themselves present a story, then several revealing features emerge. As mentioned earlier, there is the lack of any mention of Etana as a shepherd in the written legend. This remains a significant difference between the two stories, though we are able to reconcile a connection between them with the Sumerian King List. Second is the lack of any depiction of Etana’s wife and her barrenness, which is the primary motivation behind Etana’s flight on the eagle in the text. Third is the lack of any depiction of the story of the serpent and eagle, which is likewise central to the written plot. Thus we find that the seal depictions do not contain many of the essential elements of the legend. Furthermore, there are significant variations on the motif in several of the seals. In one variation, the man atop the eagle and the two dogs are replaced by a single large bird, which appears much like an eagle, which is either perched atop the sheepfold or diving into the shepherds’ compound. In another variation, two birds replace the man, bird, and dog figures, and are shown diving down to seize small animals from the ground. And in yet another, there is an additional bird, identical to the one carrying the man, who sits in a tree, grasping a small animal in its claws, as dogs attack the trunk of the tree below. All of these major variations involve some departure from the original use of the large bird, and depict these birds of prey making an assault on the shepherds’ compound. These discrepancies complicate the connection between the seal depictions and the textual myth.

It may be that the Etana myth was known, in its entirety, to the Akkadian seal-cutters, and that these seal-cutters chose to depict just one scene of the myth—Etana’s flight—in a new context, the shepherd’s compound. But this seems improbable. Steinkeller writes, “. . . there are reasons to believe that the placement of Etana’s flight within a pastoral setting was not simply a matter of artistic license, but that it was required by the story itself.” That is to say, the story constructed by the Akkadian seals, taken together, do not represent the mere recontextualization of a scene found in the Etana myth. They form a story in and of themselves, to which all the variations on the central motif are relevant. The scenes all convey a high sense of tension—the shepherd looking onto the man and the eagle, as already noted, expresses astonishment, gesturing with his arms in the air; the dogs, too, seem somewhat taken by surprise, as they gaze upon the eagle. Suddenness is conveyed by the unawareness of the other shepherds, who continue their work as though they have not yet had a chance to witness the flight. Context is given by the other variations on the motif: they depict large birds of prey making an assault on the shepherds’ compound, perhaps scenes just prior to the one with the man riding the eagle. These things together—the tension and suddenness of the scenes, and the context of the assault of the compound by birds of prey—suggest an altogether different story from that of the text, which Steinkeller has observed. Instead of Etana riding the eagle into heaven, what we find in the seal depictions are the consecutive stages in an attack on the compound by birds of prey, who in the process carry one of the shepherds into the sky. If we accept this interpretation, then the seals construct a much more basic story than that elaborated by the myth—instead of being a willing party in the flight, with a conscious plan in mind, the man riding the eagle is accidentally, even unwillingly, taken away by one of several birds attacking a shepherds’ compound. The seals thus contain a primitive rendering of what would later come to be Etana’s flight on the eagle, the simpler and foundational story which the written myth would expand upon. In this way, it is much more likely that the seals preceded the literary text of the legend by a significant margin of time, and that the other subplots of Etana’s wife and the serpent and eagle were added during that time. Again, as with the case of the Bull-man and Enkidu, we might say that the mythological idea of Etana’s flight was preserved in the cylinder seals before it became a part of the much more intricate written myth. I would contend that the same characteristic is true of many other Akkadian seals; but this is a claim that demands an extensive survey of a broad range of motifs, which is well beyond the scope of this paper.

I now move on to the second part of my discussion. Thus far, I have adopted only an anagogical perspective the subject matter of the cylinder seals, and how the symbolism of the depictions precedes the literary mythology which formalizes them. However, it is also worth considering an artistic approach to the seal depictions. Among the cylinder seals used for artistic purposes, it is apparently only those seals which incorporate relief into the rendering that connote any mythological associations.

Admittedly, the Uruk period did not produce any seal depictions representative of a broader mythological structure. However, as noted earlier in this paper, the Uruk seals were rich in imagery and symbols which were the basis of later mythological associations. The artistic representation of these symbols reflects their early stage of maturity. Frankfort observes: “The seals of the Uruk period . . . possess all the characteristics of a first achievement. . . . The creative impulse is not canalised by tradition.” In other words, there lacked a distinguishing artistic language to express the symbolic imagery, because, as the images themselves were still being explored and developed, so too was the artistry used to portray them. As an emerging craft, the artistic technique was still being refined. Even in these early seals, however, there is an emphasis on relief as opposed to linear detail, which produces well-formed models of the subjects of design. One notes, for example, that individual figures are drawn with attention to the most outstanding features of their form. The portraitures are essentially visual summaries—distinctive and imaginative caricatures, if only somewhat formulaic. Particular detail seems to be paid to creating visually accurate representations, to which end the technique of relief was developed. Thus, we may associate the early symbols, the seeds of the later mythology, of the Uruk period with the visually accurate relief scenes in which they are depicted.

The artistry of the Jemdet Nasr period proves quite different. There is a dramatic shift in the stylistic technique of seal engraving, from the detailed, realistic formula of Uruk to a much more abstract, geometric approach. Also lost is the element of relief in the seals. It is as though the seal-cutters of the Jemdet Nasr period abandoned their focus on thematic context, if only temporarily, to experiment with the visual and material art. Frankfort writes, “. . . the seals [of the Jemdet Nasr age] show a richer variety of shapes than is found in Mesopotamia at any other time.” Indeed, many of the seals assume a wholly geometrical nature, with nothing but regular patterns of shapes and designs filling the entire motif. Even the representations of animals become more geometrical, with less attention paid to the detail of their form and more paid to how they fill the space on the seal. Yet these are primarily linear concerns. Experimentation with new geometries and patterns is a matter of spatial relationship, and not modeling, as was the case in the Uruk period. Thus the use of relief lost relevance in these times. I argue that the disuse of relief as an artistic technique goes hand in hand with the “non-mythological” quality of the Jemdet Nasr cylinder seals. Though many of the same symbols were used in the Uruk and Jemdet Nasr periods, I submit that the symbols of each period are qualitatively different in usage. The Uruk seals possessed a mythological quality, even if there existed no formal mythology, because the images carved on them had symbolical significance. Surely the Uruk seal-cutters had such symbolism in mind when they were engraving them. The Jemdet Nasr seal-cutters, though, had a totally different approach. Their seals reflect experimentation in form and spatial arrangement with preexisting motifs, with little focus on developing the symbolism of these motifs. Their intent, so to speak, is not in the mythology of the symbols. Thus, I argue that these seals, which incidentally do not include the use of relief, do not inherently connote any mythological or likewise associations. Any symbolism in the Jemdet Nasr motifs derives from the weight of such symbols in the Uruk period.

The same argument applies to the EDI seals, which display an emphasis not on subject matter, but on experimenting with highly linear forms and arrangements, the so-called Brocade style. The lack of relief and extensive use of linear experimentation of the Brocade seals reflects the disinterest in expanding subject matter. As Frankfort puts it, “The actual subject-matter, in fact, was clearly considered only of secondary importance . . .” While the Jemdet Nasr artisans focused primarily on experimenting with new geometric forms, the EDI seal-cutters apparently dedicated their efforts to developing space-filling techniques, still a two-dimensional concern. In both cases, any symbolic imagery derives its weight from the preexisting Uruk archetypes. In passing to the EDII seals, we merely note the incidence of the non-mythological quality and the lack of relief in the EDI seals.

The seals of EDII, however, do not fit so neatly into the mold I have outlined. For as we have noted, the EDII seal depictions resume the development of mythological subjects in the seal repertoire; yet, they show a continuation in the linear artistic style of the past. It may well be that these seals except themselves to a rigid interpretation of the trend I have described. However, in defense of my claim, I submit that the artistry of the EDII period represents a transitory phase in both the artistic and mythological development of the seal depictions. As we know, the defense of flocks and herds was the primary motif of the period. Mythological figures were recast in this setting, and it is this revived interest in subject material that separates EDII from the preceding EDI and Jemdet Nasr periods. The rediscovered motif was explored through a wide range of permutations. Yet, the mythological development was largely confined to exploration of this motif. As Frankfort states, “. . . the seal-cutter [of the EDII period] gives full rein to his inventiveness in the combination of the few given elements into ever-changing groups.” I suggest that the development of mythological figures in this one context represents an intermediary step to the expression of EDIII seals, in which myth figures assume fuller and more widespread symbolism. Likewise, the artistry of the EDII seals represents a middle step between the EDI and EDIII seals. We noted earlier that the EDI seals displayed a highly linear style, with an emphasis on geometric patterns and space-filling. The EDII seals also incorporate a linear style, lacking relief; but their visual appearance is noticeably less severe than those of EDI. Many of the EDII seals also include flat surfaces in the design, between the linear markings, giving the depiction texture, and a more realistic image. The inclusion of flat surfaces may or may not represent an intentional artistic development towards rendering more lifelike figures, but in the very least it shows a departure from the rigidly linear Brocade style. It is a perfectly acceptable stage in the progression towards the three-dimensional relief modeling of the following periods. I argue that the developing artistic technique reflects the developing mythological representation, such that, as seals with low mythological connotation (of the Jemdet Nasr and EDI periods) incorporate no use of relief and seals with high connotation (of the Uruk period) do display relief technique, seals with intermediate mythological development (of the EDII period) show intermediate use of relief, in the flat surfaces.

I have already insinuated that the seals of EDIII and Akkadian periods incorporate relief in their depictions, and indeed this is the fact. We need only to note the connection between the highly mythological seal depictions of these ages with their use of relief to complete the argument.

The claim I have just argued for, in conjunction with the observations of the first part of this discussion, present us with some idea of how the cylinder seals of the third millennium were involved in shaping the mythology of ancient Mesopotamia. We can surmise that the cylinder seals, not the literary texts, were an original medium for myths. Among these seals, we observe that the development of mythological subject matter has artistic demands, namely the use of relief, which brings realism and sophistication to the depictions. What I have articulated, however, cannot be taken too strictly. Although it may be true that the elements preserved in the seal depictions give rise to the formal constructs of the later, written mythology, and that the mythological connotations of the seals goes hand in hand with the use of relief, there is probably some more dynamic force at work to explain these observations. Hans Nissen, for example, has argued that the sociopolitical landscape of the times dictates the kinds of myth depicted in art. Such forces, as well as a complete survey of the body of cylinder seals, remain a primary motivation for continuing studies in a field which continues to fascinate the modern world.

References

Frankfort, H. Cylinder Seals: A Documentary Essay on the Art and Religion of the Ancient Near East. The Gregg Press Ltd., London, 1965, first printed in 1939, 328 pp.

Kramer, S. N. Sumerian Mythology: A Study of Spiritual and Literary Achievement in the Third Millennium B.C. Edwards Brothers Inc., Ann Arbor, MI, 1944, 125 pp.

Nissen, H. “Settlement Patterns and Material Culture.” Akkad: The First World Empire. Liverani, M., ed. 1993, pp. 91-106.

Novotny, J. R. “The Standard Babylonion Etana Epic.” State Archives of Assyria Cuneiform Texts. Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, University of Helsinki, 2001, v. 2.

Steinkeller, P. “Early Semitic Literature and Third Millennium Seals with Mythological Motifs.” Literature and Literary Language at Ebla. Fronsaroli, P., ed. 1992, pp. 243-283.