1. “Another Enlil myth, still unpublished”
When Samual Noah Kramer published his popular book From the Tablets of Sumer: 25 Firsts of Man’s Recorded History (Reference Kramer1956), he chose to adorn the dust jacket with a fragmentary tablet dating to about 2400 BCE – perhaps, because its intricate archaic characters beautifully embody the incredible antiquity of Sumerian civilization, to which he credits so many firsts.Footnote 1 But the tablet’s ragged contours also serve as a vivid reminder that, while Sumerian literature is both astonishingly present in its physical remains, its contents often remain elusive.Footnote 2 Kramer refrained from translating the tablet, but his short description next to the photo reproduced in black-and-white as fig. 6 on p. 106 (see fig. 1 below) captures the pioneering spirit of the time, characterized by a seemingly never-ending streak of discoveries: “Another Enlil Myth […], still unpublished” (my italics).
Further elaborating, Kramer (Reference Kramer1956: 280) correctly dated the tablet, succinctly summarized the plot, and compared the role of Fox to that in the Sumerian narrative now known as Enki and Ninḫursaŋa, which is attested on manuscripts from the early 2nd millennium BCE:
“It contains a portion of an Enlil myth which, as far as the fragmentary contents can be made out, tells of the disappearance of his son, the storm-god Iškur, to the Kur. Enlil gathers the gods known as the Anunnaki and asks which of them will bring back his son from the Kur. It is probably the fox who undertakes the task – a motif used in the “Paradise” tale inscribed on a tablet dating some seven centuries later.”
His publication aroused the interest of many, and yet a comprehensive edition and analysis is so far lacking. This may partly be because of the tablet’s fragmentary state of preservation, which promises insights and frustration in equal measure. Partly, however, it is probably also due to the fact that the tablet was first presented to the world in a book aimed at a popular audience, without mention of its museum number. This he only supplied five years later (Kramer Reference Kramer and Wright1961: 259 n. 2) – a reference I owe to Andrew George. It is hence my pleasure and privilege to dedicate this study to him, master of Mesopotamian literature and mythology.
Ni 12501 (P221771), as we now know it, was probably excavated during the 19th century excavations in NippurFootnote 3 and is now kept in the Istanbul Archaeological Museums, where I had the opportunity to study it in spring 2022.Footnote 4 Several scholars have worked on the tablet based on the photograph published by Kramer, and I have profited from their insights. Adam Falkenstein (Reference Falkenstein1965: 133 n. 70) was the first to build on Kramer’s summary quoted above. In his study on the Anuna gods he transliterated and partially translated the episode in which Enlil addresses them (iv 4′–12′). A full transliteration and translation of iv 7′–12′ was then offered in PSD B 130 s.v. bar – tab. The most substantial treatment published so far is by Daniel Schwemer (Reference Schwemer2001: 179–80), who in his monumental study of the storm god transliterated and translated sections mentioning Iškur (ii 10′–13′, iii 7′–13′, and iv 4′–12′). In the commentary, I will only highlight instances where I differ from his results. The edition prepared by Gianni Marchesi mentioned by Schwemer (Reference Schwemer2001: 179 n. 1257) has not appeared but will inform his treatment of the text in his forthcoming book on literary Old Sumerian.Footnote 5 Szilvia Sövegjártó (Reference Sövegjártó2019: 288–89) in her study on the fox in Sumerian literature elaborated on Kramer’s observation that Fox plays a similar role in Ni 12501 and Enki and Ninḫursaŋa. She offers a slightly revised transliteration and translation of those sections that mention Fox (iv 4′–13′ and v 3′–4′). As I was preparing this article, a copy of Ni 12501 was published by Aage Westenholz (Reference Westenholz2023: 291) based on the photograph in Kramer (Reference Kramer1956: 106) and additional photographs supplied by Marchesi. While Westenholz’ elegant copy is, as always, of high quality, a few improvements based on my collation of the original can be made.Footnote 6 They will be apparent from my own copy prepared in 2022 (see fig. 2 below).
Fig. 1. Photo and caption reproduced from Kramer Reference Kramer1956: 106
Fig. 2. Hand copy of Ni 12501. By Jana Matuszak
In the following, I aim to present a comprehensive edition and analysis, which also considers those text sections that hitherto had not been transliterated and translated, specifically columns i and ii, as well as parts of columns iii and iv. Although the fragmentary preservation of Ni 12501 prevents a reconstruction of the plot, individual motifs can be traced across the entire cuneiform corpus, allowing for a preliminary case study of continuity and change over more than two millennia of Mesopotamian mythological literature.
Table 1: Comparison of NAM and KA in ED literary tablets from Adab (region) and Nippur
2. Characteristics of Ni 12501 in context: reconstruction, tablet layout, palaeography, orthography
For all we know, Ni 12501 is one of few Early Dynastic (ED) IIIb literary texts found during the late 19th century excavations at Nippur conducted by the University of Pennsylvania. The poorly understood corpus yet awaits systematic study.Footnote 7 According to Kraus (Reference Kraus1947: 114), the Archaeological Museums in Istanbul preserve seven pre-Ur III literary texts from Nippur, which remain unpublished to this day. Ni 12501 is presumably included in that number.
Ni 12501 was reassembled from several fragments. As assumed by Westenholz (Reference Westenholz2023: 291), one small fragment was forgotten in the process and can no longer be inserted in its original place, which is why it is kept loose. In my drawing (fig. 2), I have placed it where it belongs. Wherever most complete, the tablet measures 13.7 × 12.2 cm. The preserved lefthand edge measures 3 cm. in thickness but the tablet is nearly twice as thick at the break on the right; the impressive profile indicates that this was once a massive tablet.Footnote 8 Judging from the curvature, less than one third of the tablet is preserved. Upper and lower part, as well as the righthand half are missing. Fortunately, enough is preserved of the lefthand edge to confirm that the first column is indeed col. i. Not too much seems to be missing at the top, which places the first preserved lines in col. i close to the beginning of the text. There, is however, a considerable gap at the end of each column, which prevents an uninterrupted reconstruction of the narrative. What is preserved of the reverse is entirely uninscribed, but it is possible that the now lost righthand half of the tablet contained columns on the reverse.Footnote 9 At present, 69 lines (or rather, narrow cases) are partly or fully legible.
Discounting literary excerpts, the closest currently known parallels to Ni 12501 are OSP 1: 1, 3, 4, and 5, the so-called Barton Cylinder (MBI 1; P222183), and a cylinder fragment in three pieces from Adab (OIP 14, 53; P222241).Footnote 10 The Barton Cylinder, measuring 16.1 cm. in length and 12.7 cm. in diameter, was found during the 4th expedition to Nippur, probably on the southern edge of Mound I (Alster and Westenholz Reference Alster and Westenholz1994: 15–17). Though the bottom of the cylinder is lost, it preserves remnants of 20 columns and around 250 fully or partially preserved lines. While the Barton Cylinder is thus by far the best-preserved literary manuscript from the ED IIIb period, Ni 12501 could also have contained over 200 lines in its original state.Footnote 11
On Ni 12501, OSP 1: 3 and 5, the Barton Cylinder, and OIP 14, 53, the cases are of fixed size, regardless of how many cuneiform signs they contain.Footnote 12 Evenly filled cases containing as little as two signs in reading order alternate with crammed cases in which the signs are not arranged in strictly linear fashion. The dimensions of the cases, however, differ: while they are similar in width, the cases on Ni 12501 are only about half as high as those of OSP 1: 3 and 5, the Barton Cylinder, and OIP 14, 53, which often arrange signs in two ‘registers.’ The difference in case height excludes the possibility that OSP 1, 5 (P216082) – a small central surface fragment from the right-hand edge of what would have once been a big tablet – could belong to Ni 12501, even if the only column in which a few complete cases survive mentions the kur (ii′ 2′) and Enlil (ii′ 6′). Too little is preserved to ascertain if it had any relation to Ni 12501.
As noted by Alster and Westenholz (Reference Alster and Westenholz1994: 17), the sign forms on the Barton Cylinder differ from those attested in contemporary texts from Nippur, wherefore they suggest that the cylinder may have been written by a scribe from Keš or Adab, ca. 25 miles southeast of Nippur. And indeed, the forms of certain diagnostic signs used in the Barton Cylinder and the Adab cylinder fragments, such as NAM and KA, differ from those used in Ni 12501, which Alster and Westenholz (Reference Alster and Westenholz1994: 37 ad xix 2) describe as being written in “pure Nippur script.”Footnote 15 For NAM, the final vertical crossed by two parallel horizontals (similar to a PA) is characteristic of Nippur sources. In the case of Nippurite KA, the hatching occurs in the first part of the sign, as it does in later periods (see table 1).Footnote 16
Ni 12501 features deities such as EšPEŠ, who was at home in the Adab region.Footnote 17 Moreover, Iškur was one of the most important deities there.Footnote 18 However, the presence of deities like EšPEŠ, who also features in the Barton Cylinder, does not strike me as sufficient grounds for assuming a provenience of Ni 12501 from Adab, as recently argued by Westenholz (Reference Westenholz2023: 291). Moreover, the records in Istanbul do not confirm his suspicion that E. Unger may have falsely inventoried the tablet.Footnote 19 Rather, evidence from both Ni 12501 and the Barton Cylinder attests to strong links between the two local panthea. For the moment, this leaves evidence from sign forms as our best (though perhaps not always decisive) option for establishing provenience. A comprehensive study of sign forms in different regional centres of the second half of the 3rd millennium BCE remains a desideratum.
In terms of orthography, Ni 12501 contains at least one (common) phonetic spelling, namely, ge-ge for gegge in ii 7′. Similar spellings are also attested on the Barton Cylinder, where, for example, nin stands both for nim (i 8 // i 11) and nin₉ (ii 2 // ii 5). Moreover, the scribe of Ni 12501 uses ŊA₂ (ma₃) where one would expect MA, but the practice is not consistent: cf. dim₂-ŊA₂ (ii 3′) vs. dim₂-ma in ii 6′ and 9′.
The most salient feature of Ni 12501 are the frequent repetitions. They either take the form of ‘hymnic’ enumerations, as in the case of the three water creatures in i 3′–11′ and the three differently coloured cows in ii 1′–9′, or they repeat a statement by replacing an epithet with a proper name, such as in iii 9′–12′ (en “lord” > diškur) and iv 7′–12′ (dumu “child” > diškur). Both practices are characteristic of Sumerian and Babylonian narrative and hymnic texts of all periods and underscore the literary quality of Ni 12501.Footnote 20
3. Reading Ni 12501
The fragmentary state of preservation prevents a reconstruction of the plot, but close reading and comparison with similar narratives facilitates the understanding of the preserved episodes.Footnote 21 For the convenience of the reader, the transliteration and translation of Ni 12501 are provided below, followed by an interpretive summary of the episodes’ contents. The philological commentary is provided at the end of the paper in section 6.
3.1 Prosperity in illo tempore (cols. i–ii)
The beginning of Ni 12051 is lost; hence it is unclear if it started with an account of creation. When Ni 12501 first becomes legible, the waters are already teeming with fish. Although only four out of 15 visible lines are fully preserved in col. i, it is possible to reconstruct several of the partially preserved lines due to a recurrent pattern. At least three different water bodies, among them the Great River/Canal, are said to be glistening (X₁–₃ ni₂ ba₄-zal; i 3′, 7′, 9′) and, as a result of that, three different kinds of creatures are thriving within them (Y₁–₃ na-nam; 5′, 8′, 11′). The first few lines hence invoke an image of abundance and bliss.
Soon after, traces in i 14′ likely introduce Iškur as one of the main protagonists, but the circumstances are lost in the break. Possibly it is his role as gu₂-gal “canal inspector” attested in later periods, which explains his connection to rivers.Footnote 28 In any case, we can observe that prosperity still prevails at the beginning of col. ii, which contains a poetic description of Iškur’s multicoloured cows (ii 1′–11′).Footnote 29 However, the idyl of abundant livestock seems to face a sudden threat when a group of young men do something to the lordship of Enlil (ii 12′–15′+[…]), which is unfortunately lost in the break. Possibly, they challenge Enlil’s sovereignty. When the text becomes legible again in col. iii, the order of the cosmos has been disturbed, and Iškur is confined in the kur.
Both the na-nam sequence at the beginning of col. i and the enumeration of differently coloured animals find parallels in the Barton Cylinder, indicating shared topoi among roughly contemporaneous texts. In the Barton Cylinder, the three-fold na-nam sequence serves to transport the audience back to primordial times:Footnote 30
Then follows the account of the creation of the universe and the birth of the Anuna gods, and the plot unfolds. Significantly, both Ni 12501 (i 6′) and the Barton Cylinder (ii 13) prominently mention the Great River/Canal (di₇-maḫ) at the beginning of their accounts. This signals a common concern for freshwater supply – the most important guarantor of fertility and prosperity (cf. Lisman Reference Lisman2016–17: 146; 150 et passim). In the narrative of the Barton Cylinder, access to freshwater soon becomes scarce, resulting in a period of salinization and starvation. Once the water supply has been restored, several animals are said to multiply again, heralding the beginning of a new era of abundance that resembles the ideal primordial state described in Ni 12501 col. ii:
3.2 Iškur and his cows in the kur (col. iii)
Iškur’s multicoloured cows – once invoked as an image of vitality – are now in the kur (iii 2′–3′ // 7′–8′), where they seem to be feeding on grass. While the semantic spectrum of kur ranging from ‘mountain’ to ‘east’ to ‘netherworld’ to ‘foreign country’ is well-known (Katz Reference Katz2003: 105–06) and its polysemy possibly exploited for storytelling purposes, it is doubtful that the cows are grazing on a lush pasture in the Zagros mountains. Rather, they seem to be trapped in the netherworld, together with their master (iii 9′–12′). In later sources, the kur is portrayed as a negative mirror of the terrestrial realm, where the potential for procreation and fecundity, or even basic subsistence, is eternally thwarted (Katz Reference Katz2003: 236). In Ninŋešzida’s Journey to the Netherworld and a similar passage in a lament for Damu, for example, the kur is described as follows:Footnote 31
If this conception of the kur as barren was already prevalent in Early Dynastic times, then Iškur’s cows were feeding on grass that lacked nutrients, which would prevent them from sustaining their master. Moreover, if the storm god was trapped in the netherworld, rain would cease to fall in the world above, leading to drought and starvation. While the consequences of Iškur’s absence, with the possible exception of iv 2′–3′ (cf. section 3.3), are not described in the preserved parts of the text, the reference to EšPEŠ as someone who used to bake enormous quantities of bread (iii 13′–15′) is perhaps to be understood in this context.
Little is known about EšPEŠ, an ancient deity from Adab (cf. commentary), but her invocation as “my mother” (iii 13′) proves that she is female. The fact that she is here described as someone baking bread – traditionally a female chore – underscores her gender, which was unknown until now. She also plays an active role in the Barton Cylinder (xix 2–5): in xix 3 she is said to be understanding things very well (gal i₃-ga-mu-zu), whereupon she locks the doors (xix 5). After a line whose reading and interpretation are debated,Footnote 32 Irḫan, the deified western branch of the Euphrates is mentioned (xix 7) just before the text breaks off.Footnote 33 EšPEŠ (Ni 12501 iii 14′) and Irḫan (Barton Cylinder xii 8) share the epithet “beautiful person” (lu₂ sa₆-ga), but their relation otherwise remains obscure. The shared protagonists and epithets further underscore the various links between the two texts. EšPEŠ is not mentioned again in the preserved parts of Ni 12501, but Enlil apparently resolves to take action (iii 16′+[…]).
3.3 Plans to rescue Iškur (cols. iv–v)
The first two preserved lines of col. iv seem to warn of the consequences of a prolonged absence of the storm god, who is responsible for bringing rain and ensuring fertility. If I understand them correctly, they indicate that, though children will be born, they will soon die for lack of sustenance. Enlil hence informs the Anuna gods that his son IškurFootnote 34 has been taken captive in the netherworld and asks who can bring him back (iv 4′–12′). The search for someone who can achieve the (nearly) impossible is a common motif in hero narratives (cf. section 4.3). But unlike in Ninurta’s Exploits or Anzû, for example, where the warrior god Ninurta volunteers to defeat the chaos monster and thus restores order, in our story Fox enters the scene (iv 13′) – just before the text breaks off again. Perhaps Fox offered his services, sincere or not, as he did in Enki and Ninḫursaŋa 223–24. Whatever exactly happened in the lacuna, it seems to have triggered a discussion among the Anuna gods. In the remnants of the last preserved column, col. v, someone (perhaps Enlil) finally resolves: “Fox shall go to the netherworld!” (v 3′–4′). And, apparently, he did, since the narrator next reports next that Fox did not refuse? the bread and water he was offered upon arrival in the kur but put it in containers instead, concealing the fact that he did not consume the food and drink (v 5′–8′). After this intriguing glimpse into Fox’s cunning nature, the rest of the story is lost.
3.4 Reasons for expecting a happy end
It is uncertain if it was indeed Fox who succeeded in bringing Iškur back from the kur. However, one can reasonably assume that the storm god was not trapped in the netherworld forever and re-emerged eventually, guaranteeing a renewed period of abundance and growth. Ni 12501 hence differs from Mesopotamian creation stories that contrast a primordial state of non- (or rather, not-yet-) existence with subsequent bountyFootnote 35 in that it recounts how a state of initial prosperity later became imperilled by disaster. Presumably, the text ended with the definitive solution of the problem, the benefits of which extend from mythical into historical time and characterize the world we live in. In this respect, Ni 12501 resembles the Barton Cylinder, where creation is equally followed by crisis, only to be resolved once and for all.
4. Contextualizing the motifs
Several motifs encountered in Ni 12501 are attested in other texts ranging in date from the ED IIIa to the Neo Babylonian periods, though some are associated with different protagonists. This may partly be related to the fact that Ni 12501 is the only extant mythological narrative from ancient Iraq that features the storm god as protagonist.Footnote 36 In the following, I will trace the more salient motifs through cuneiform literature in order to demonstrate the embeddedness of Ni 12501 in enduring Mesopotamian models of mythological explanation and literary composition without necessarily positing any direct dependencies between the texts.Footnote 37 This survey is inevitably limited by the fragmentary nature of the corpus, and I do not aspire to completeness. At the same time, the continuous growth of the corpus renders all observations preliminary. Notably, the relative inaccessibility of the literary corpus from the ED IIIa period (particularly the UD.GAL.NUN texts, see Zand Reference Zand2009) and the general scarcity of literary texts from the centuries that follow present a major obstacle for the contextualization of the narrative within its mid to late 3rd millennium BCE horizon.
4.1 Iškur as provider of fertility
Dietz Otto Edzard’s (Reference Edzard and Haussig1965: 136) characterization of Iškur as a storm god who, unlike his Akkadian counterpart Adad, was only associated with destructive storms but not with fertile rains was already corrected by Schwemer (Reference Schwemer2001: 176–83). Ni 12501 adds further evidence to Iškur’s role as bringer of rain that ensures the growth of vegetation, which serves as sustenance for animals and people alike. Indirectly, this is evidenced by the rivers being full prior to his absence, and the fact that Iškur’s captivity forces his cows to eat presumably non-nutritious grass in the barren kur (iii 2′–8′),Footnote 38 while children seem to be dying prematurely of starvation (iv 2′–3′).
Iškur as provider of agricultural abundance is already attested in zame-Hymn 24: karkara še gu til₃ | diškur za₃-me “(At) Karkara, where barley and flax make (everything and everyone) live, Iškur (said) praise.”Footnote 39 A more detailed account is offered by the temple hymn addressed to Iškur’s sanctuary in Karkara, which also emphasizes Iškur’s connection to bovines:
The Old Babylonian Eršemma Gud maḫ pa e₃-a,Footnote 41 which invokes Iškur as the eponymous “great bull” (gud maḫ), combines the notion of the storm god as provider of rain that enables the growth of flax and barley (l. 3; the motif of agricultural abundance is continued in ll. 4–6) with a possible allusion to his ‘death’ (ll. 9–10) and subsequent return (ll. 11–12). The latter seems to cause the invigoration of cattle and sheep, which gives rise to celebrations. This short section likely emphasizes the seasonal nature of rainfall in southern Iraq. While it is not unthinkable that the cyclical absence and return of the storm god was interpreted as Iškur’s ‘death’ (imagined as his captivity in the netherworld) and his subsequent liberation, caution is in order. In Ni 12501, the conditions for Iškur’s presumed release from the kur are unknown (cf. section 4.4). With the end of the story lost, it is unclear if Ni 12501 offered the aitiology for alternating periods of aridity and abundance in Sumer or told a unique episode, as is the case in the Barton Cylinder or Enki and Ninḫursaŋa, for example. Be that as it may, a concern for water supply is clearly present in Ni 12051. Since agriculture in southern Iraq relies on irrigation rather than rainfall, the focus on grazing animals is noteworthy, as they depend more directly on Iškur as provider of rain.Footnote 42 In this context, it is interesting to note that precipitation rates in the 3rd millennium BCE seem to have been considerably higher and more evenly spread throughout the autumn and winter months (Rost Reference Rost2015: 162–64). This, Rost argues, is also suggested by administrative documents from Ur III Umma, which indicate fewer irrigation periods, primarily in spring, but not during the sowing and germination period in October/November.Footnote 43 The slightly lesser dependence on irrigation before the onset of a long dry period around 2150 BCEFootnote 44 might perhaps explain the more prominent role of Iškur in early texts such as Ni 12501.
4.2 Gods trapped in the netherworld and other disappearing deities
Outside of Ni 12501, we have no evidence for the Sumerian storm god being held captive in the netherworld. Only the Old Babylonian Iškur-Eršemma mentioned in section 4.1 may allude to the disappearance and return of the Sumerian storm god, but the kur itself is nowhere mentioned. However, the motif of dying and reappearing gods, who are kept hostage in the netherworld until they are ultimately released, is attested throughout cuneiform literature.Footnote 45 The earliest attestation is found in SF 31 (P010611), a literary fragment from the ED IIIa period which seems to record the monthly abduction and return of Ama’ušumgal or Innana from the netherworld (Zand Reference Zand and Sommerfeld2020). As argued by Matuszak and Attinger (Reference Matuszak and Attinger2024), the Sargonic school tablet CUSAS 23, 205 (P323472) invokes Ama’ušumgal’s death and return. Moreover, two lexical fragments – IM 205093, probably from Sargonic Umma, and 6N-T 1012 from Ur III Nippur – contain allusions to “slave work” performed by Innana and Ŋeštinana, respectively, which possibly refers to their sojourns in the netherworld (Matuszak and Alessawe Reference Matuszak and Attinger2024: 42). In general, the motif of captivity in the netherworld is mainly found in texts featuring Innana, Dumuzi, and his sister Ŋeštinana. Famously, Innana’s attempt to take over the netherworld results in her death and confinement in the “land of no return.” Upon her rescue, she must provide a substitute, and the text ends with Dumuzi and Ŋeštinana sharing the sentence for half a year each in perpetuity (Innana’s Descent to the Netherworld 407; cf. also section 4.4).
In Ni 12501, the disastrous consequences that the storm god’s prolonged captivity in the netherworld would have on human life seem to be indicated in iv 2′–3′, whose immediate context remains unclear: while reproduction apparently would not cease altogether, new-born children would stand no chance of surviving. If that interpretation proves to be correct, it would be unique for early accounts of gods trapped in the netherworld: neither the 3rd millennium BCE tablets mentioned above nor the Old Babylonian Sumerian version of Innana’s Descent to the Netherworld describe what happens when certain gods can no longer fulfil their functions.Footnote 46 Only the later Standard Babylonian version reports how, after Ištar had descended to the netherworld,
Excursus: In this context, it deserves to be mentioned that ancient Anatolia had its own myths about the disappearance and return of the Storm God of the Sky (CTH 325) and that of his son Telipinu (CTH 324), an originally Hattian deity associated with crops who shared some aspects with storm deities.Footnote 47 In both myths (the Telipinu myth being attested in four different versions), the storm god disappears in anger, which results in drought, hunger, and the cessation of all procreation.Footnote 48 The sun god invites all gods to a banquet, but they cannot still their hunger and thirst. In most versions, it is then specifically the father of the vanished god who notices and announces the catastrophic absence of his son, and all the gods start searching for him.Footnote 49 Their search yielding no results, an eagle is dispatched, which likewise fails to find him. Ultimately, and much to the surprise of the gods, a tiny bee achieves the impossible,Footnote 50 and, at least in CTH 325 § 18′′, the eventual return of the storm god is celebrated with a banquet. The Anatolian myths thus share certain motifs with the narrative as it is partially preserved on Ni 12501 – a god as provider of rain (cf. section 4.1); disappearance and ultimate return of the god with their associated negative and positive consequences; father announcing the disappearance of his son; helpless gods; quest achieved by an animal (cf. sections 4.3 and 4.4). However, details differ, and it is altogether uncertain if the myths are in any way related, not least because their manuscripts are separated by roughly a millennium and non-negligible geographical distances.Footnote 51
4.3 Helpless gods and dauntless heroes
Iškur’s captivity in the kur results in a cosmic crisis requiring the immediate attention of the gods. However, bringing someone back from the netherworld is a quest that cannot easily be achieved by just anyone. Hence Ni 12501 appears to feature a condensed version of what one might call the Mesopotamian ‘helpless gods and dauntless heroes’ motif, which serves to heighten the accomplishments of a singular champion against the backdrop of the normally all-powerful but temporarily dumbstruck gods. In different variations, it can contain the following elements: the great gods being speechless and/or sitting around motionless, sometimes in mourning, the convention of the divine assembly, the search for a champion, and finally a hero coming forward who will accomplish the almost-impossible.Footnote 52 In Ni 12501, Enlil’s address to the Anuna gods presupposes the convention of the divine assembly, and the fact that none of the gods volunteers to bring Iškur back opens the path for Fox to make his appearance. An abbreviated version is also attested in Enki and Ninḫursaŋa 220, where the Anuna gods sit down in the dust after Ninḫursaŋa’s curse incapacitates Enki, prompting Fox to offer his services to Enlil in the following line. The motif is most fully developed in Babylonian epics such as Anzû and, borrowing from that, Enūma eliš. In the former, the chaos monster Anzu’s theft of the tablet of destinies results in deafening silence, even among the highest divine authorities: “Their father and counsellor, Enlil, was speechless.”Footnote 53 The gods convene to devise a plan, and Anu asks who among the gods can slay Anzu (OB II 9 // SB I+86). Three gods (Adad, Girra, and Šara) are summoned but express the impossibility of the venture, before valiant Ninurta finally accomplishes the task. The motif is consciously adapted in Enūma eliš,Footnote 54 where Ea “fell silent in his chamber and sat stock still”Footnote 55 upon hearing that monstrous Tiamat is ready for battle. He resolves to confront her but “stopped (lit.: sat down), speechless, and turned back;” the same happens when Anu tries himself.Footnote 56 This leads to the familiar image of the divine assembly sitting in silence:
As is well known, Marduk then rises to the occasion and establishes himself as creator and king of the gods. Since all champions get rewarded in one way or another, it seems likely that Fox also demanded compensation for his efforts in a lost section of Ni 12501 (cf. also section 4.4).
4.4 Rescuing captives of the kur and related motifs
The Mesopotamian netherworld is famously conceived of as the “land of no return.”Footnote 57 Bringing anyone back to the world of the living hence requires special arrangements, if not outright trickery. The following survey is intended to contextualize the behaviour of Fox in col. v.
In Innana’s Descent to the Netherworld,Footnote 58 Innana’s faithful messenger Ninsubura, after failing to secure the support of Enlil and Nanna, finally succeeds in soliciting the help of the clever god Enki in rescuing Innana from the kur.Footnote 59 Enki creates two liminal figures, the Kurŋara and the Galatura, who can cross the boundaries between earth and netherworld in a way others cannot: gliding, flying, and pivoting (ll. 227–29). He equips them with the food and water of life (ll. 224–25) and warns them not to accept the welcoming gift of food and drink: “They will offer you a river full of water – don’t accept it! They will offer you a field full of barley – don’t accept it!” (246–47). The Kurŋara and Galatura heed Enki’s advice (273–74) and successfully trick Ereškigala, queen of the kur, into surrendering Innana’s lifeless body. They succeed in reviving her and bring her back to earth – in clear violation of the rule that those who enter the kur may never leave it again (cf. ll. 285–89). To keep balances even, Innana is required to find a substitute for herself. For the story on Ni 12501 this begs the question if a similar kind of ransom had to be paid for Iškur, or if his release was achieved by different means.
Conversely, Gilgameš, Enkidu, and the Netherworld tells the story of a failed attempt to enter and exit the kur unharmed. When Enkidu offers his master Gilgameš to retrieve his ball and stick that had fallen through a hole into the netherworld, Gilgameš gives him precise instructions for how to behave in the kur so as to avoid drawing attention to himself, which – we presume – would enable him to come back up to the world of the living (ll. 182–99). It is Enkidu’s systematic disregard for Gilgameš’s advice that seals his fate and traps him in the kur eternally.Footnote 60
In the case of the sage Adapa, on the other hand, it is precisely the faithful observance of instructions that proves fatal.Footnote 61 When Adapa is summoned by sky god An/Anu because he broke the South Wind’s wing, Enki/Ea instructs him how to behave upon entering the heavens.Footnote 62 However, comparison with Innana’s Descent suggests that a crucial piece of Enki/Ea’s advice would in fact have been appropriate for entering the netherworld: one should never accept bread and water there, because they will cause one’s death. It appears that the consumption of bread and water in the heavens, by analogy, will grant eternal life. In refusing the welcoming meal, Adapa hence forfeits his unique chance at immortality – much to the delight of An/Anu, who erupts in laughter upon realizing what Enki/Ea had done.Footnote 63
These partial parallels suggest for Ni 12501 that, when commissioned to go to the kur, Fox either knew or had been informed about which protocols to follow in order to avoid being trapped there indefinitely. While the instructions themselves are skipped, v 5′–7′ relay how Fox implemented them.Footnote 64 Considering that Fox hid the bread and water in appropriate receptacles, he must have first received and accepted them. His actions (whether inspired by instructions or not) hence differ from those of other travellers to different cosmic domains, who refuse the welcoming meal. Tricking the authorities of the kur into believing that he consumed the offered bread and water underscores Fox’s cunning nature. The ruse that probably secured his survival, while in line with Mesopotamian rules of conduct in the kur, may also loosely be based on observation of foxes, as they are known to bury their food and come back for it (cf., e.g., Macdonald Reference Macdonald1976; Henry Reference Henry1996: 95–117). The ease with which Fox transcends boundaries may likewise have been inspired by observations of vulpine behaviour: they have a habit of digging holes and building underground dens, making them ideal go-betweens for missions to the netherworld and back up again to the world of the living.Footnote 65
Fox as a liminal creature and trickster is also attested in several texts and proverbs from later periods.Footnote 66 Given his sly and sometimes treacherous nature documented elsewhere, this begs the questions: Was Fox’s offer sincere? Did his mission succeed?
Since Ni 12501 itself cannot provide the answer, let us look at other texts for inspiration. Indeed, animals offering help to gods is a motif attested in another Early Dynastic mythological narrative. In Ezinan and her Seven Children, a composition exclusively known from ED IIIa manuscripts from Tell Abū Ṣalābīḫ, it is Wolf who offers his services to Enki who, according to the interpretation by Krebernik and Lisman (Reference Krebernik and Lisman2024: 174), seeks to end a food shortage.Footnote 67 Since Wolf is never mentioned again in the preserved parts of the text, it is unclear what came of it, but it is worth noting that Fox and Wolf are sometimes rivals, sometimes partners in crime in the later Series of the Fox (Jiménez Reference Jiménez2017: 48–50), and generally share a rather dubious reputation.
Sumerian narratives known from Old Babylonian and later sources also contain instances of successful animal intervention in the resolution of crises (cf. Verderame Reference Verderame2021). Already Kramer (Reference Kramer1956: 280) had connected Fox’s offer to a similar episode in Enki and Ninḫursaŋa, which is known from (only) three Old Babylonian manuscripts. After the goddess Ninḫursaŋa had cursed Enki for his incestuous rapes, Enki falls gravely ill and Ninḫursaŋa herself seems to go into hiding. At this point, Fox appears. He asks Enlil: “If I bring Ninḫursaŋa to you, what will be my reward?” (l. 222), to which Enlil answers: “If you bring Ninḫursaŋa to me, I will erect two birch trees in my city for you and your name will be renowned” (ll. 224–25).Footnote 68 Fox prepares for the journeyFootnote 69 but then the text breaks off. It appears, however, that the mission was successful, as Ninḫursaŋa ultimately agrees to cure Enki of the effects of her curse (ll. 250–68). Although not explicitly mentioned in the text, I agree with Dina Katz’ (Reference Katz2007: 588; Reference Katz2008: 340) observation that Enki’s revival would have ensured the renewed freshwater supply. This concern for access to freshwater and the temporary absence of gods associated with it – Enki as the god of the subterranean freshwater ocean that feeds rivers and Iškur as the bringer of rain – connects Ni 12501 and Enki and Ninḫursaŋa even beyond Fox’s offer to perform the rescue mission.Footnote 70 In that regard, the plot of Enki and Ninḫursaŋa, in which Fox’s intervention seems to bring about a happy end, might be counted as potentially good news for Iškur in the story preserved on Ni 12501.
However, given the cunning nature of Fox, later Sumerian and Akkadian proverbs document ambivalent feelings towards relying on a fox for help: while the Neo-Assyrian letter ABL 555 (SAA 13, 45) rev. 3–6 quotes a popular proverb suggesting that clinging to a fox’s tail may result in salvation, it appears that grasping a fox’s ear rather than a bull’s horn achieves the opposite (A.10107; cf. Alster Reference Alster1976: 125 n. 52 and Cohen Reference Cohen2013: 219–20 with lit.). To complicate matters, the relationship between Enlil and Fox is not without friction, as I will survey in the next section.
4.5 Enlil and Fox
The origin and nature of Enlil’s relationship with Fox remains elusive, but evidence for a close connection between the two surfaces at irregular intervals across the cuneiform corpus. Ni 12501 provides the earliest available evidence for their interaction so far – and simultaneously the earliest attestation of Fox as a trickster figure.Footnote 71
Outside of Enki and Ninḫursaŋa, where Fox also offers his services as special operations envoy to the king of the gods, Enlil and Fox interact in several Sumerian proverbs and so-called fables attested on manuscripts from the Old Babylonian period. SP 2+6.58, though broken, can likely be reconstructed on the basis of SP 2+6.71,Footnote 72 in which case it would read: ka₅a-a den-lil₂ lul ba-e-[si₃?-ke? (vel sim.)] “Fox li[es] to)? Enlil.”Footnote 73 The exact implications of this proverb, which inaugurates a sequence of fox proverbs, are difficult to assess. Certainly, the deceitful nature of Fox is well-known from other sources: the Sumerian words for “fox” (ka₅) and “lie” (lul) are written with the same cuneiform sign representing the head of a fox, and this graphic and semantic association is exploited throughout the Sumerian proverb collections, particularly those from the Old Babylonian period.Footnote 74 However, the specific mention of Enlil in SP 2+6.58 raises questions: does Fox’s attempt to deceive even the king of the gods (if that is indeed the proverb’s meaning) merely underscore his duplicitous character, or does the proverb allude to a specific episode narrated elsewhere? While this cannot be answered, the relationship between Enlil and Fox is worth surveying.
A short narrative included in SP 8 Sec. B 20, a collection that likewise contains several proverbs and prose miniatures featuring vulpine content, illustrates Fox’s hunger for power – as well as his innate inability to comport himself with the authority he desires. The narrative can be paraphrased as follows: Once upon a time Fox demanded from Enlil the horns of a bull, the Mesopotamian symbol of divinity. Enlil grants his wish, but as it starts to rain, the newly gained horns prevent Fox from entering the safety and comfort of his den. Thereupon he is forced to conclude that the divine privileges had better be returned to the rightful king, Enlil. While the context for Fox’s hybristic demand remains unclear, the transmitted version contains no evidence of trickery or deception on the part Fox. However, as argued by Sövegjártó (Reference Sövegjártó2021: 99), it is possible to infer that Enlil predicted Fox’s failure to live up to his newly conferred divine status, in which case Enlil would have outsmarted the animal and kept the upper hand in this latent power struggle throughout.
Another Sumerian story, The Fox and Enlil as Merchant, is fragmentarily preserved on exceedingly few, mainly disconnected manuscripts.Footnote 75 While the plot cannot currently be reconstructed in its entirety,Footnote 76 it is noteworthy that it apparently also involves trickery on Enlil’s part, who disguises himself as a merchant.Footnote 77 This illustrates or plays on an epithet of Enlil, which is attested in Old Babylonian lamentationsFootnote 78 and found its way into the god list An–Anum I 175, where the divine merchant is equated with Enlil: ddam-gar₃ = den-lil₂. This is significant insofar as merchants had a reputation for dishonesty. SP 3.64 and parallels, for example, give the following warning: ŋeš-rin₂ sa AK dul₂ niŋ₂ ŋiri₃-a-kam | dam-gara₃ gu₅-li-ni-ir lu₂ na-an-du₁₂-du₁₂ “Scales made with a net are a pitfall for the feet. A man should not take a merchant for his friend.” The story may hence be another example of Enlil outfoxing Fox.
In Babylonian sources from the first millennium BCE, Enlil and Fox appear in conjunction in a variety of genres, ranging from the popular yet fragmentarily preserved Series of the Fox to learned omens and Taboos of the Gods. Since the popular genres have recently been treated by Jiménez,Footnote 79 I will not repeat the evidence in extenso. Suffice it to say that in the Series of the Fox, Fox – who elsewhere in the text is portrayed as slanderous and false – directly addresses Enlil several times. At the very beginning of the text when Enlil, angered by something he discovered during an inspection of the land, stops the rains from falling, Fox urges him to preserve his own creation, since he has made peace with (most of) his enemies – the others Enlil is welcome to finish off.Footnote 80 The text breaks off immediately afterwards, but despite its poor preservation it seems unlikely that Fox’s role in ensuring rainfall had any direct links with the story preserved on Ni 12501. Rather, as suggested by Kienast (Reference Kienast2003: 22), it is probably Fox’s first attempt at denying responsibility for a misdeed he has committed. Other instances of interactions between Fox and Enlil, such as when Fox, after an unsuccessful foray, asks Enlil for wealth instead of health,Footnote 81 are less indicative of their relationship, since Fox also pleads with other gods, such as Šamaš.Footnote 82 He does, however, refer to Enlil as his lord and to himself as ša Enlil “he of Enlil,”Footnote 83 and proves his devotion – sincere or not – by praying and offering to him.Footnote 84
In the case of an omen recorded in Šumma izbu V 114, a sheep giving birth to a fox is associated with the bountiful ‘reign of Enlil,’ which manifests itself in an abundance of sheep (or subjects?) and a royal reign as long and successful as that of Sargon of Akkade:Footnote 85 BE U₈ KA₅.A ⸢U₃.TU BAL dEN⸣.LIL₂ MU.MEŠ LUGAL.GI.NA ina KUR u₂-šab-ša₂ TUR₃.BI DAGAL KI.MIN LUGAL ina šal-ma-at BAL-šu₂ u₂-⸢šam⸣-[qat] “If a sheep gives birth to a fox: rule of Enlil. He creates the year of Sargon in the country; its sheepfold will grow. Same (protasis): he (Enlil) makes the king fall in the abundance of his reign.”Footnote 86
Finally, the fifth entry in the enigmatic Neo-Babylonian Taboos of the Gods Footnote 87 provides an enticing yet obscure explanation for the special relationship between Enlil and Fox. It informs us that “The fox (is the taboo of) Enlil because Dagān (the West Semitic equivalent of Enlil) ⸢went away?⸣. Erra sank and went down to the water. He received the instructions of Ea(?). Their words he (Ea?) told him (Erra?). He (Ea?) made him (Erra?) rise. The sovereignty of Enlil …”Footnote 88 This is not the place to try and disentangle this difficult entry. However, one might notice that the fox is never mentioned again; instead the explanation features an episode in which Erra sinks and rises again, which has (positive?) consequences for Enlil’s sovereignty. The link between Erra and Fox is provided by Mul Apin I i 17, where the Fox Star (mulKA₅.A) – one of the 33 stars of Enlil – is explained as d er₃-ra gaš-ri DINGIRmeš “Erra, powerful one among the gods.” Future research will elucidate the role played by Erra (a.k.a. Fox?) in this taboo.
As this survey shows, Enlil and Fox interact in a variety of Sumerian and Akkadian texts attested on manuscripts that span more than two millennia. The nature of their relationship appears to change according to circumstances but often involves trickery, also on Enlil’s part. However – and this is significant for Ni 12501 – there is no evidence of Fox successfully fooling Enlil, which may further support the assumption that Fox’s mission to rescue Iškur probably succeeded. Lastly, it is worth noting that several pertinent texts – Ni 12501 itself, the proverb collections, The Fox and Enlil as a Merchant, Enki and Ninḫursaŋa, and The Series of the Fox – have either been found in Nippur, the seat of Enlil’s main temple, or were probably composed there and later made their way to other centres of literary and scholarly productivity. These stories may hence reflect local traditions, of which Ni 12501 would be the earliest surviving example.Footnote 89
5. Conclusion: common motifs, unique story
The story preserved on Ni 12501 is so far unique, and there is no evidence that detailed knowledge of it survived into later periods. For the time being this assessment, I believe, is valid even when acknowledging that Ni 12501 contained only one version of a myth that could have been told in various ways.Footnote 90 Despite its singularity, several motifs can be traced throughout cuneiform literature. The association of some motifs with other protagonists may partly be due to the fact that Ni 12501 presents the only currently known Mesopotamian narrative about the storm god. The tablet hence adds significantly to our knowledge of Mesopotamian mythology, while also offering glimpses into the use of motifs in telling stories about the mythological past. Here as elsewhere, motifs were freely adaptable to different contexts, where they bear the potential of weaving a web of associative links that could reinforce both similarities and differences between their individual manifestations in context. However, to what extent ancient audiences would have drawn connections between narratives based on recurring motifs is difficult to assess, at least for the early periods of Mesopotamian history, where manuscripts of literary texts are generally rare and the circulation of stories – whether orally or in written form – is almost impossible to trace.Footnote 91 While Ni 12501 and the Barton Cylinder, for example, were both available in ED IIIb Nippur (albeit seemingly on a single manuscript each), the absence of later copies prohibits conclusions about whether the rescue mission of Fox in Enki and Ninḫursaŋa, for example, was loosely modelled on the story told in Ni 12501, or (as seems likelier) taken from a pool of narrative material whose contents fluctuated over time and probably differed across regions. Hence the survey in section 4 may not illustrate anything other than the general longevity of certain motifs, some of which can be traced across millennia.
Considering the exceedingly small number of literary texts from the 3rd millennium BCE that survive into the Old Babylonian period and sometimes beyond, the case of Ni 12501 is far from unique. Apart from famous examples such as The Instructions of Šuruppak, whose development can be traced from the ED IIIa to the Old Babylonian period and, via Akkadian and Hurrian versions, into the second half of the 2nd millennium BCE (Alster Reference Alster2005), the presence of common motifs in an otherwise unattested narrative context also characterises texts like Ezinan and her Seven Children or the Barton Cylinder. This alerts us to the richness of early Mesopotamian mythological literature, much of which yet awaits discovery. While more work needs to be done, we may hope that one day we will write an anthology of Sumerian literature that features Early Dynastic sources such as Ni 12501 not only on its dust jacket but also in translation.
6. Philological commentary
i 2′–11′: Despite the parallelism of the three sentences, they are unevenly arranged across cases: once IM(-)ŊA₂(-)zal occupies a case all by itself (i 7′), twice it shares a case with the corresponding subject (i 3′; i 9′); similarly na-nam stands on its own in i 5′ and 11′ but shares a case with its subject in i 8′. This indicates that ideally a case would have contained a unit consisting of subject and predicate (as in i 3′, i 8′, and i 9′), but in i 4′, 6′, and 10′ the respective subjects left no space for the predicate.
i 2′: [g]u-na may be an unorthographical spelling for gun₃ “multicoloured,” qualifying something lost in the break, or part of a name. The goddess dše-gu-na, who is attested in the Tell Abū Ṣalābīh God List (Q000036) 365 (cf. Mander Reference Mander1986: 31), might just about fit into the gap (particularly if written without the divine determinative). However, her mention in this context would be surprising, since her name suggests that she was associated with crops. In either case, the syntactic function of [x g]u-na is unclear, since the position of IM in i 3′ indicates that the subject of [b]a₄-zal – likely the marshes (abbar) – was written at the beginning of the line; cf. the commentary on i 3′–5′.
i 3′ // i 7′ // 9′: As evidenced by the variants dim₂-ŊA₂ (ii 3′) vs. dim₂-ma (ii 6′; ii 9′), the scribe used ŊA₂ (ma₃) and MA quasi-interchangeably. Accordingly, several options for understanding IM(-)ŊA₂(-)zal present themselves:
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1) im-ŊA₂ (for im-ma) is a nounFootnote 92 and zal a participle. Cf. for this option AO 4153 (NFT 180; P315470), the ED IIIb cosmogonic excerpt from Ŋirsu that evokes the beginning of time, iii 1–4: u₄-⸢da⸣ im-ma | ul-[la] im-⸢ma⸣ | u₄ nu-zal-[(zal)] | i₃-ti nu-e₃-e₃ (the rest of the tablet is uninscribed). Rubio (Reference Rubio, Feliu, Llop, Millet Albà and Sanmartín2013: 4–5) translated these lines as follows: “At that time, in earlier times | At that distant time, in earlier times | Daylight did not shine | Moonlight did not come forth;” perhaps in light of a similar account on 6N-T650 (NBC 11108; P301718) obv. 7, dating to the Ur III period, which unambiguously associates “time before time” with darkness: ⸢u₄ nu-zalag ŋe₆⸣ am₃-mu-la₂ “Daylight did not yet shine. Night spread.” Since AO 4153 uses zal rather than zalag, however, the ED IIIb account is less clear: one could equally translate iii 3–4 as “Days did not pass/Months did not come forth.” Both translations account for the fact that time starts, and is measured by, the rotation of night and day. In that regard it is noteworthy that zal is mostly used in connection to the day, while the darkness of the night is mainly said to spread or envelop: zal hence simultaneously expresses the passing of the sun across the horizon and its luminosity. This makes im-ŊA₂ (for im-ma) “earlier years” an unlikely subject; moreover, this interpretation of the sign sequence causes syntactical problems: if im-ŊA₂ is the ‘subject’ of zal, then how does the preceding entity fit in?
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2) As a solution to this problem, one could consider interpreting im-ŊA₂ as a noun (im “rain”) in the locative: “waterbody X was glistening in the rain;” i.e., implicitly, thanks to Iškur’s providence. However, I know of no similar statements in Sumerian literature.
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3) IM could be short for ni₂-be₂/ba “by itself;” ba₄-zal the finite verbal form (suggestion by Reviewer 1). For primordial entities operating by themselves, cf., e.g., Tree and Reed 1: ki-ur₃ gal-e ni₂ pa bi₂-ib-e₃ “The vast ground appeared by itself” (quoted after Rubio Reference Rubio, Feliu, Llop, Millet Albà and Sanmartín2013: 9). This, in contrast to option 2, would deny Iškur’s active involvement in providing prosperity.
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4) im-ŊA₂-zal as a whole constitutes the verbal form (cf. the later prefix im-ma-).Footnote 93 However, this spelling is so far unattested vis-à-vis common e/i₃-ma- and rare im-ma-.Footnote 94
While options 2–4 are all, to a certain degree, possible, option 3 (ni₂ ba₄-zal) presents the least problems. The description of this tranquil and peaceful scene of abundance, seemingly devoid of any agents, may be in line with the fact that Iškur was probably only introduced in i 14′. Perhaps the explicit reference to waterbodies operating without external stimulation – if this is indeed the correct reading and interpretation – foreshadows Iškur’s incapacitation or somehow explains or contrasts with his (later) role as provider of rain and regulator of the waterflow of rivers and canals.
What exactly it is that the waterbodies are doing is slightly ambiguous due to the semantic spectrum of zal alluded to above: while zal in the meaning “to pass” could refer to the flowing of the river (although the flowing of watercourses is usually expressed with ŋen/du), zal as “to shine” could express the glittering of the ever-moving surface of the water. Since zal combines notions of movement and luminosity and since setting things in motion is how creation starts,Footnote 95 the flowing or glittering of the river and the two broken entities may be the reason for the abundance of fish expressed in 4′–5′, 8′ and probably 10′–11′. My preference for “to glisten” attempts to capture both meanings of zal and reflects the fact that in i 3′–5′ it likely describes the marshes, which do not quite qualify as “running water” the same way as rivers and canals.
i 3′–5′: In literary texts from the 3rd and early 2nd millennium BCE, suḫur-carps are associated with marshes (abbar): e.g., abbar suḫur-suḫur du₁₀ “(its, i.e., SAḪAR’s) marshes (are) good (for) suḫur-carps” (Zame Hymn 36; l. 124); abbar-be₂ ku₆ḪI.SUḪUR ku₆suḫur u₃-de₆ “After he had provided its marshes with ḪI.SUḪUR-fish and suḫur-carps” (Gudea Cylinder B xii 1); abbar-ra ḪI.SUḪURku₆ suḫurku₆ ŋal₂-la-da “to make ḪI.SUḪUR-fish and suḫur-carps exist (in abundance) in the marshes” (ibid. xiv 26); [abbar-re gu₃ ba]-an-de₂ SUḪUR.ḪIku₆ suḫurku₆ ba-an-šum₂ “He called on the marshes, and bestowed on them SUḪUR.ḪI-fish and suḫur-carps” (Enki and the World Order 274); cf., moreover, Nanna-Suen’s Journey to Nibru 334 // 343; Nanna B 40; Nanna K Segm. B 5; Ninurta F 26. Two pairs of parallel lines in Nanna-Suen’s Journey to Nibru locate aštub-carps in rivers and suḫur-carps in marshes, respectively:
This suggests that the lost sign at the beginning of i 3′ may have been abbar.
i 5′ // i 8′ // i 11′: On na-nam sequences at the beginning of Sumerian narratives, see Streck (Reference Streck2002: 202–09) and Rubio (Reference Rubio, Feliu, Llop, Millet Albà and Sanmartín2013: 10–11).
i 6′–8′: The Great River/Canal is also mentioned in the Barton Cylinder (ii 13) just before a broken passage; hence its role remains unclear. The Great River/Canal (without divine determinative) occurs as theophoric element in personal names of the 3rd millennium BCE: nin-i₇-maḫ is attested a few times in the Sargonic period (e.g., BIN 8, 157 [P212703] obv. 6; BIN 8, 167 [P212711] obv. 4; both of unknown provenience), the personal name lugal-i₇-maḫ in ED IIIb Ŋirsu (Nik 1, 3 [P221710] obv. iv 1). According to 3rd millennium BCE documents, a Great River/Canal was located in the Lagas-Ŋirsu province (Rulers of Lagas 145; Edzard et al. Reference Edzard, Farber and Sollberger1977: 221–2). Zanetti (Reference Zanetti2023: 107; 205; 248; 309–11) argues that the canal known as i₇-maḫ in ED IIIb sources corresponds to the i₇ bi₂-za-ge-le-le attested in the Ur III period.
In Šū-ilīšu 2 iii 11′–12′ (E4.1.2.2), the Great River/Canal without divine determinative is also associated with aštub-carps: i₇-maḫ a-ku₆aštub DU-a-na | saḫar ḫa-an-⸢da-si⸣-[si] “May he (Enki) silt up his Great River/Canal that used to bring the carp flood;” cf. also the OB Kultlied über Damu B 13: i-lu-bi i₇ maḫ-e na-nam a-aštub na-u₃-TU “this lament verily concerns the Great River/Canal; it used to bear the carp-flood” (CT 15, 26–27 [P345459]; Römer Reference Römer2001: 195). For other sources locating aštub-carps in rivers, see the commentary on i 3′–5′. On stock strophes involving fish in rivers and marshes, cf. also Ferrara (Reference Ferrara1995: 95–100); reference courtesy Reviewer 2.
i 9′–11′: Based on the parallel occurrence of “X (waterbodies such as di₇-maḫ) ni₂ ba₄-zal/Y (fish such as suḫur; aštub) na-nam,” one would expect another type of fish or aquatic animal. The only fish in ED Fish (Q000014) ending in -NA is the a/erinaₓ(MUŠ&MUŠ)na.ku₆, which is, however, hardly compatible with the preserved trace (the upper part of a centrally placed Winkelhaken). Moreover, the a/erina-fish – unlike suḫur- and aštub-carps – does not seem to be attested anywhere outside of ED Fish, while suḫur- and aštub-carps are often mentioned in parallel (e.g., Enki’s Journey to Nibru 78–79, Nanna-Suen’s Journey to Nibru 176. 178 // 284. 286; 207 // 218 // 229 // 240 // 251; Heron and Turtle Segm. A 27–28; 75–76), without another animal present, making it harder to identify the third entity.Footnote 96 The uncertainty of the noun preceding na-nam also prevents a suggested reconstruction for the noun preceding ni₂ ba₄-zal.
i 14′: Comparison with iv 10′ suggests that Iškur’s name filled the line.
ii 1′–9′: The syntax of col. ii remains uncertain, mainly because of the ambiguity of ii 10′–11′. Compare the sequence of differently coloured bulls in the Barton Cylinder col. xiv, 4–7 quoted in section 3.1. The closest conceptual parallel, however, is found in the Ur III period hymn 6N-T637 (P274973) col. iv, where different kinds of sheep are described according to the same pattern as in Ni 12501: X Y-gen₇ dim₂-ma (Rubio Reference Rubio1999: 167). Extensive comparisons involving animals, including cow (iii′ 3′) and calf (iii′ 5′), are also attested in OSP 1, 4 (P221573), which may be related to 6N-T637 (Rubio Reference Rubio1999: 162–91).
ii 1′–2′: Based on ii 4′–9′, one would expect ii 1′ to contain a white cow, which is compared to a similarly-coloured entity in ii′. White cows are attested in zame-Hymn 47 (l. 162) as well as in ED lexical lists and administrative documents,Footnote 97 but /babbar/ is only used in reference to specific birds, such as uz “duck”, uga “raven”, or the ŋiri₃-babbarmušen and the giri₁₇-babbarmušen in OB Ura 04 and associated manuscripts.Footnote 98 The duck is the only animal specifically designated as white in ED Birds (Q000018) 17.
ii 4′–5′: Brown cows are attested in ED Animals A (Q000012) 11, but the entity to which it is likened is unclear to me. Based on the determinative, it should be a red-brown type of wood. Note that OSP 1, 4 iv′ 2′ compares something to ŋešdašgari tu[n₃] bar-gen₇ “like a tamarisk cut by an axe” (cf. Rubio Reference Rubio1999: 164–65).
ii 7′–8′: Given the other colour terms, ge-ge is interpreted as an unorthographical spelling for gegge; cf. ab₂ gegge in ED Animals A (Q000012) 4. The black cows are compared to kohl reed; for TA×SIG₇ as a spelling for šembix, see N 290 (P275528) obv. 3 (ED IIIb Nippur). I am not aware of another attestation of kohl reed; my best guess is that it might have been used to apply the eye makeup.
ii 10′–11′: Schwemer (Reference Schwemer2001: 179 with n. 1258), who thought the loose fragment did not belong in ii 11′, interpreted diškur-ra as dative and part of a speech introduction formula, with ii 12′–13′ as direct speech. The correct placement of the fragment being established, I understand these lines as containing an anticipatory genitive construction (“of Iškur his … cows”). The MU, however, is troubling. In administrative texts, cows are sometimes designated by their age (ab₂ mu n “n year(s) old cow”), but here a numeral is missing – and unexpected. An interpretation of mu as “name” likewise fails to convince: although the practice of naming cows is attested (Alivernini and Bramanti Reference Alivernini and Bramanti2023), no names are mentioned in our text – unless we are to understand their description (“created like X”) as names? This seems improbable in light of 6N-T637 col. iv, cf. commentary on ii 1′–9′ above. An interpretation of mu-zal as a verbal form is excluded in context, as it would be transitive. The uncertain meaning of MU notwithstanding, these lines seem to sum up the list of cows. Since ii 12′ probably starts a new sentence, I translated i 11′ as if it were a copular clause.
ii 12′–16′: “All the great young men” are in the ergative, probably doing something to the en-ship of Enlil. However, no predicate is preserved, and the last partially legible line seems to contain another divine name. The traces are compatible with ⸢diškur⸣, but this reconstruction is not certain. If so, it would have significant ramifications for the plot, as the next intelligible passage places Iškur and his cows in the kur.
ii 13′: The office of nam-en, here tentatively translated as lordship, is commonly associated with rule over the city of Uruk. On several stone vessels excavated in Nippur, ED IIIb ruler Lugal-kiŋeneš-dudu credits Enlil with making him both en and king (lugal): u₄ den-lil₂ | gu₃ zi e-na-de₂-a | nam-en | nam-lugal-da | e-na-da-tab-ba-a | unu⸢ki⸣-ga | nam-en | mu-AK-ke₄ | uri₂ki-ma | nam-lugal | mu-AK-ke₄ “When Enlil had truly called on him (to select him for office), he combined the title/office of en and the title/office of king for Lugal-kiŋeneš-dudu. He (then) ruled as en in Uruk and as king in Ur (ll. 4–14).”Footnote 99 However, a connection to Uruk is unlikely in the present context. In the Figure aux Plumes nam-en AK simply seems to mean “to reign.”Footnote 100 In later sources, nam-en and nam-lugal are often mentioned side-by-side, indicating that they are understood as different terms for rulership.Footnote 101 The specific term for the sovereignty of Enlil, nam-den-lil₂ (Akkadian ellilūtu), is only attested from the Old Babylonian period onwards. While the syntax of ii 13′–14′ suggests a genitive construction (nam-en Enlil=ak), the context is overall too destroyed to allow for a confident hypothesis that nam-en den-lil₂ could correspond to later nam-den-lil₂. It is hence unclear if the event recounted in ii 12′–16′ bore any similarity with Anzu stealing the ellilūtu in OB Anzû II 1–2 ∼ SB Anzû I b+147 (cf. Heinrich Reference Heinrich2022a and Reference Heinrich2022b).
iii 1′: If the reading ⸢x⸣-n[u₂] proposed by Reviewer 1 is correct, one would expect the first sign to be a verbal prefix. However, the tails of three parallel vertical wedges do not easily match any.
iii 4′–6′: The contents of these cases are, unfortunately, unclear to me. Since they are nestled between two sentences (iii 2′–3′ and iii 7′–8′), one would expect them to contain at least one finite verb. If the preserved sign in ii 5′ is DU, then this line likely contained a predicate, with the poorly preserved sign in iii 4′ representing the agent/subject. The first two signs in iii 6′ could be read ŋešdeb “wooden board,” but whether this fits the context is doubtful (note that what might be mistaken for a second vertical as in ŊA₂ is a tiny crack that continues into the next line and runs through ab₂, excluding ba₄ as a verbal prefix). MUŠ₃ is in the position where one would expect the verbal base, but the available options (suh₁₀ “to be chosen;” “to tear out”; se₂₇-d “to be cool;” “to soothe”) are unconvincing and the sign(s) above epigraphically uncertain. The second sign is not the clear KU₆ copied by Westenholz (Reference Westenholz2023: 291).
iii 9′–12′: In iii 9′, a faint erasure atop the first part of EN (read DIŠ by Schwemer Reference Schwemer2001: 179) suggests that the scribe had first written d+EN as in d+en-E₂.Footnote 102 Schwemer (ibid.) read twice šè-mu-ti-la-e and translated “der Herr, der sich in der Unterwelt aufhält” without commenting on the curious -e. Collation confirms it is not E but ŠE₃. Since the verbal forms in iii 10′ and 12′ are nominalized, the terminative may represent an abbreviated form of {mu …=ak=še} and supply a reason for what follows. The form itself is perfective, but since Iškur has yet to be rescued, my translation assumes that he has been – and still is – staying in the kur. However, given the fragmentary context, it cannot be excluded that this refers to a previous sojourn of the storm god in the kur.
The form še₃-mu-til₃-la-še₃ is attested in the small fragment IAS 340 (P010274) ii 1′, 3′, and 5′. While, as remarked by Reviewer 1 when elaborating on my observation, the text seems to share with Ni 12501 the motif of someone going away and bovines eating grass that does not fill them, to my eyes the details and rest of the preserved narrative differ.Footnote 103 Significantly, še₃-mu-til₃-la-še₃ is associated with a workshop, possibly that of the divine smith,Footnote 104 and the kur is nowhere mentioned. However, certainty can only be reached once additional fragments are identified.
iii 13′–15′: The 1st person singular possessive pronoun suggests that the entire section preserved in col. iii is direct speech. While the epithet ama “mother” suggests that EšPEŠ is female, we know too little about her to be able to determine her child – and hence the speaker of these lines. She is attested in god lists from Fāra and Tell Abū Ṣalābīḫ (cf. Mander Reference Mander1986), offering lists, a few personal names such as ur-deš(₅)-PEŠ and gan-deš(₅)-PEŠ, and in the name of a canal (i₇-deš₅-PEŠ-DU); she also had a temple with priests.Footnote 105 Reviewer 1 suggest that deš₅-PEŠ and deš₅-GI may be different spellings of the same theonym, because in the Tell Abū Ṣalābīḫ god list (Q000036) 179–80 deš₅-PEŠ directly follows deš₅-gi and both deities have a connection with Iškur: in the Tell Abū Ṣalābīḫ god list 35–36 deš₅-gi follows Iškur and in the Fāra god list (SF 001; P010566) deš₅-PEŠ is mentioned in rev. ii 9, three lines after Iškur in rev. ii 6. This would then speak for the reading deš₅-gir rather than deš₅-peš.
The lidga measure, equalling 240 litres, is a core unit in the ED III period and continues to be used until the late 3rd millennium BCE, especially in Nippur (Powell Reference Powell1990: 494–97).
iv 2′–3′: In both lines, ŠE₃ is tentatively interpreted as the 3rd person plural suffix consistent with the reduplicated form of DU in iv 3′, although the marking of the plural for a collective of unnamed children in the absolutive is surprising. I had discounted the possibility of ŠE₃ marking the quotative suffix {eše}, brought up again by Reviewer 1, mainly because 1) it is unclear if iv 2′–3′ are part of the narrative or direct speech and 2) I know of no ED attestations, neither in narratives nor in proverbs, although {eše} is particularly common in OB proverb collections. I am also unaware of examples where the quotative is attached to two consecutive statements uttered by the same speaker; usually it is only added to the last sentence. More research on ED literary and proverbial material is needed; if there is corroborating early evidence for the quotative used in this way, then this could be an early example.
It is also uncertain if the forms are perfective or imperfective. In later periods, the ḫamṭu base of (u₃-)du₂-ud / (u₃-)tu “to be born” clearly has a d-Auslaut but in the ED period it is never written in word-final position,Footnote 106 as is generally the case with closed syllables. ba-DU.DU-ŠE₃, on the other hand, is not only ambiguous regarding the aspect but also with respect to the underlying lexeme; options are ŋen/du “to go” and de₆ or tum₂ “to carry (off) / lead away,” each with their respective plural bases. According to Katz (Reference Katz2003: 33), ŋen/du is “the most common verb used to describe the movement to the netherworld” across periods and genres, though the directive rather than the terminative (as in v 3′) is unexpected. kur-re₂ may hence more likely denote the ergative, in which case both forms would be perfective. For a similarly ambiguous form, cf. AO 13349 (DP 141; P220791) rev. iii 2, an administrative tablet from the reign of IriKAgina, which records lu₂ dba-U₂ kur-re₂ laḫ₅-ḫa-me “they are people of BaU who were deported by (or: went to) the kur.”Footnote 107 For the kur actively snatching victims, cf. Gilgameš, Enkidu, and the Netherworld 226 and parallel lines: kur-re im-ma-an-dab₅ “the kur has seized him (Enkidu).”
iv 8′//11′: On bar tab “to banish”, see Matuszak and Alessawe (Reference Matuszak and Alessawe2024: 46) with lit.
iv 9′//12′: My translation of the initial D-shaped sign, which was read U by Falkenstein (Reference Falkenstein1965: 133 n. 70) and – perhaps judiciously? – ignored by PSD B 130 s.v. bar – tab and Schwemer (Reference Schwemer2001: 179), is admittedly conjectural and dependent on the idea that, as in other hero narratives, Enlil is hoping for a single champion to come forward. Sövegjártó (Reference Sövegjártó2019: 289) read the sign dili and translated “Who will bring the unique one back?” The fact that the direct object stands before a-ba speaks in favour of her solution, but dili as a reference to Iškur somehow seems unlikely to me (I might be wrong). To my knowledge, the interrogative pronoun a-ba is never paired with a numeral that would allow for the translation “(is there) one who …?” or “who is the one that …?” This is in later periods partially achieved by adding the enclitic copula -am₃. I am also unaware of the D-shaped sign being used as a marker of questions (which, given the interrogative pronoun, seems superfluous).
iv 13′: Note the use of the phonetic indicator ka₅a, which is missing in v 3′ – either by mistake or because disambiguation was no longer necessary. Assuming that Fox offers help just as Wolf does in Ezinan and her Seven Children 95–103, compare the wording there (adapted from Krebernik and Lisman Reference Krebernik and Lisman2024: 184–85):
v 1′–2′: These two cases likely formed a pair, since they both contain locatives. In v 1′, the first sign may be ⸢KUG⸣ followed by a sign whose identification is uncertain – unless the traces in the upper ‘register’ of the case all belong to a single sign.Footnote 109 In v 2′, the sign GIN₂ could either represent some kind of axe (aga₃ or giŋ₄) or a crown (aga₃); after ša₃-g “interior” one expects a locative corresponding to -ni-.
v 4′: The modal prefix ḫe₂- is – perhaps deliberately – ambiguous, as is the verbal base DU “to go”: one could read it either ŋen (perfective) or du (imperfective).Footnote 110 The orthographic ambiguity allowing for both epistemic and deontic interpretations (cf. Civil 2000 [Reference Civil2005]) works perfectly in the context of instruction and implementation: the two cuneiform signs, depending on their reading, could simultaneously convey a speaker’s wish that Fox go to the netherworld and record the fact that Fox indeed carried out the task.
v 5′–8′: The reconstruction of v 8′ had already been proposed by Civil (Reference Civil and Eichler1976b: 91) in his commentary on The Song of the Plowing Oxen 16–17 (inda₃ kušlu-ub₂ ḫa-ma-ni-in-ŋar-ra-am₃ | a kušummu₃-da ḫa-ma-ni-in-de₂-am₃ “May she put bread into the leather bag for me; may she pour water into the waterskin for me!”). It is supported by ED Practical Vocabulary A (Q000293) 268–69, where lu-ub₂ “(leather) bag” is followed by kušummu₃-d(A.EDIN) “waterskin,” and, indirectly, by a fragmentary episode in the Barton Cylinder (xv 9–10 // 14–15), in which flour in a sack (kušŋa₂-la₂) and water in a waterskin (kušummu₃-d, spelled EDIN.LAL.A) play an (unclear) role.
The meaning of šu ge₄, a phrasal verb composed of šu “hand” and ge₄ “to return,” is unclear in the present context of Fox’s operations in the kur.Footnote 111 In approaching its semantics, I will partly rely on my interpretation of the terse account in col. v as well as later parallels (cf. section 4.4) – admittedly a complex set of assumptions. I understand the switch from narrative (perfective indicatives) in 1′–2′ to the wishFootnote 112 in v 3′–4′ back to narrative (perfective indicatives) in 5′–7′ as a condensed account conflating (omitted) instructions and their implementation. Considering that Fox hid the bread and water, he must have first accepted it. His actions hence differ from those of other travellers to different cosmic domains such as Adapa, who refuse the welcoming gifts (expressed with a negated form of šu gid₂; cf. Adapa 137–41 + parallels and, similarly phrased, the demons failing to bribe Ŋeštinana in Dumuzi’s Dream 131–32). There are, to my mind, two options for translating šu ge₄, depending on which noun is in the absolutive and which in the directive. I tentatively propose to understand šu ge₄ here as meaning “(to return something (abs.) into (someone’s) hand (dir.) >) to refuse,” which illustrates the contrast with other episodes employing šu gid₂ “to accept.”Footnote 113 Alternatively, one could understand šu ge₄ as “to retract the hand (abs.) with respect to something (dir.)” (cf. Attinger Reference Attinger2023: 519–20), yielding a similar result. In both cases, the switch from negated to positive statement in v 5′–6′ (what Fox ostentatiously did not do versus what he surreptitiously did) would highlight his deceitful nature.
v 9′–12′: The last lines are badly preserved, but the sequence u₄ “day” and MI (= ŋe₆ “night”?) in 9′ and 11′, respectively, probably indicated the passing of time while Fox was on mission in the kur. The sequence u₄ – ŋe₆ also marks the passage of time in the Barton Cylinder xviii 4–5.
v 10′ and 12′ both featured deities. Whether Utu was also mentioned in 12′, perhaps reflecting his daily journeys across the sky and then through the netherworld at night, remains pure speculation. His appearance on scene could also be related to the fact that he knows all cosmic realms, including the netherworld, and is implored to mediate and help those embarking on dangerous journeys: In Gilgameš, Enkidu, and the Netherworld 239–42, Utu opens a hole to the netherworld so Enkidu’s ghost can rise to inform Gilgameš how people fare there. In Gilgameš and Huwawa (A 9–34 // B 23–33), Gilgameš prays to Utu for support in his journey to Huwawa’s realm (kur). In Dumuzi’s Dream (164–239) and Innana’s Descent (369–79), Dumuzi implores Utu to transform him into swiftly fleeing animals so he can escape the demons who want to abduct him to the netherworld.
