2. The Heroic Battle Narrative in the Ancient Near East

The heroic battle narrative tells the story of a hero commissioned by a helpless leader to fight an enemy champion in single-combat. The foundation for this study was laid by Heda Jason, drawing on the work of A. Skaftymov[1] and also the model of V. Propp’s for the heroic fairy tale.[2] With Skaftymov’s episodes as a basis, the plot can be summarized as follows:

Beginning: Tension

• A description of the hero and his impediment
• The enemy threatens “our” side
• “Our” side reacts with fear.

Middle: Development

• The enemy threat increases.
• “Our” side calls and commissions the hero.

End: Resolution

• The hero defeats the enemy hero in single-handed combat.
• The enemy army reacts with fear and flees.
• “Our” side pursues and destroys the enemy.
• “Our” side takes its plunder.
• “Our” side recognizes the hero.

In addition to the traditional battle story, Jason cites several modern examples: “the detective story, television plays, wild west movies.” Each would have its own conventions but would fit nonetheless under this larger umbrella. Joseph Campbell’s famous book A Hero with a Thousand Faces likewise points to the pervasive use of this generic plot which he sees as a monomyth with many manifestations.[3] His emphasis on similarity and disregard for differences distorts the relationships. Without denying the common elements of the genre, I want to argue that we must respect the differences of each version. The generic allows us to discover and appreciate the uniqueness of each narrative.

The tradition then is not represented fully by any one story. Therefore, to discover the generic pattern in the ancient Near East, I want to look at six important battle narratives to explore how they use and expand upon the basic scenes outlined above.

2.1. Six Heroic Battle Narratives from the ancient Near East and Homer

2.1.1. Marduk and Tiamat in the Enūma eliš = Ee[4]

The Enūma eliš, the creation story of ancient Mesopotamia, begins with the first father, Apsu (freshwater), and the first mother, Tiamat (saltwater), giving birth to the first generation of deities. These young deities disturb Apsu, who decides to kill them, but Ea, son of Anshar and one of the good gods, kills Apsu, causing Tiamat to fly into an emotional rage. She gives the Tablet of Destinies to Qingu, one of the bad gods, and looks to kill the good gods. After failed attempts to find a hero, Anshar asks the young Marduk, son of Ea, to fight Tiamat. He agrees on the condition that they make him king before the battle, which they do. Marduk then meets Tiamat in single-combat and shoots an arrow into her belly and heart—the internal organs representing her emotions. Splitting her in two, he creates heaven and earth, and from the blood of Qingu makes humanity. The story ends with the fifty names of Marduk which show him holding together both reason and emotion.

2.1.2. Ninurta fights Anzu in the Anzu Myth[5]

The bird-like Anzu steals the Tablet of Destinies from Anu and flees disrupting the kingship and its ability to order all things. Anu calls three deities to be the hero, but each refuses. Ea asks the goddess Mami to send her son Ninurta. She agrees and commissions him. After mustering an army, he meets Anzu. Though the battle initially does not go well, Ea sends counsel, and Ninurta shoots an arrow into Anzu’s heart. When the wind brings Anzu’s feather, the gods realize what has happened and send a messenger to recognize the victory and bestow some fifteen names upon him, including “Bel” or “lord” in the later version.

2.1.3. Gilgamesh and Ḫumbaba in the Gilgamesh Epic = Gilg.

The Gilgamesh Epic began as a series of stories during the earlier Sumerian culture and was handed on in the Akkadian language, particularly in an Old Babylonian form from the eighteenth century and a later standard version attributed to Sîn-liqe-unnini in the late second millennium. Andrew George provides a translation and lucid introduction to the various manuscripts which make up this evolving corpus. This study will follow his presentations.[6] Because of the epic’s fragmentary condition, the whole must be constructed by adding to the standard version tablets with the Old Babylonian version (OB), especially the Yale (Y) and Pennsylvania (P) tablets. The standard version is indicated by tablet in Roman numerals followed by lines.

The standard version opens with a description of the young Gilgamesh, king of Uruk, who divides himself between contests with the young men and chasing the young women. To counteract this, the goddess Aruru creates a wild, primitive man, Enkidu, who will become the heroic friend. He is civilized by his sexual encounter with the woman Shamhat who tells him of the hero. Enkidu, now the equal of Gilgamesh, goes to fight him, and their wrestling match makes them fast friends.

To win glory, Gilgamesh proposes that they go and take trees from the forest of Ḫumbaba, whose “breath is death” (Y 111). Enkidu objects because of Ḫumbaba’s invincibility, but Gilgamesh persists because only the deities are immortal; therefore, he disdains death” If I should fall, let me make my name” (Y149). After forging weapons, Gilgamesh asks permission of the elders of Uruk. Enkidu again objects, and the elders counsel him: “You are young, borne along by emotion, / all that you talk of you don’t understand” (II 289-290), but Gilgamesh persists. The elders counsel him, “Do not rely, O Gilgamesh, on your own strength alone” (III 2) and then entrust him to Enkidu. The hero then applies to his mother, who prays to Shamash to protect her son; she then adopts Enkidu and entrusts her son to him. Then the young men of Uruk offer a final commission; again, they bid Gilgamesh not to trust in his “own strength alone” (III 216). After entrusting the hero to Enkidu, they offer a final blessing “Go, Gilgamesh, let ……. / May your god go [before you!] / May [Shamash] let you attain [your goal!]” (Y 284-286).

After a long journey and several favorable dreams, they arrive at Ḫumbaba’ forest (IV). Though Tablet IV is fragmentary at this point, Enkidu encourages the hero. Shamash then both encourages him and tells him not to let Ḫumbaba enter his forest. The tablet ends with Gilgamesh encouraging his friend: “Take my hand, friend, and we shall go [on] together, / let your thoughts dwell on combat! / Forget death and [seek] life (IV 253-255)!

The hero meets with Ḫumbaba, who accuses Enkidu of treachery and, with false confidence, tells the hero that he will slit his throat. Gilgamesh finally feels his fear, but Enkidu encourages him. The sun god Shamash also comes to the hero’s aid with thirteen winds to immobilize Ḫumbaba so that Gilgamesh’s weapons can reach the enemy. Ḫumbaba then pleads for his life, but Enkidu tells him to press on and kill the enemy. Ḫumbaba then curses both with the wish that they do not reach old age. Gilgamesh then strikes the neck of Ḫumbaba and kills him. The heroic pair takes trees from the forest as spoils.

On his return, the goddess Ishtar desires Gilgamesh, but he rejects her. After the heroic pair kill the Bull of Heaven, the spurned Ishtar stirs up the assembly of deities against them, and they demand the life of one as recompense. So the heroic friend Enkidu dies, leaving Gilgamesh alone. His earlier desire for fame now becomes a desire for immortality which takes him on a long journey to Utnapishtim, who survived the great flood, like Noah. Unlike the biblical figure, he receives eternal life as a reward. After a test, Utnapishtim gives Gilgamesh a miraculous plant that will keep him young, but a snake steals it on the return journey, and so he must die like all mortals.

2.1.4. Baal and Yamm[7]

During a banquet held by El, the weak and old head of the Canaanite pantheon, the god Yamm, whose name means “sea,” demands that Baal, whose name means “lord,” become his vassal. The impotent El acquiesces, but Baal refuses. Unlike the other narratives in which the weak leader commissions the hero, El commissions the “enemy champion” who claims the kingship. When the text becomes clear again, Baal and Yamm are engaged in single combat with Baal on the verge of defeat, but the blacksmith deity fashions two clubs for him. With them, Baal triumphs over Yamm, who represents the chaotic waters. Athtart  recognizes his victory and announces that “Baal shall be king.”

2.1.5. Sinuhe and the Strong Man of Retenu in Sinuhe[8]

The Story of Sinuhe is a masterpiece of Middle Egyptian literature.[9] Unlike the other stories told by omniscient storytellers who know all and present themselves as authoritative and reliable narrators, Sinuhe tells his own story creating a more mimetic text and establishing a more intimate bond with the reader.

Sinuhe begins telling his story at the accession of Sesostris I to the throne in 1961 B.C. For some reason, he flees at the news of the new king, and his flight makes him seem a rebel. He continues his journey into Lebanon, eventually settling in Upper Retenu, a part of Palestine and Syria. There he becomes part of the king’s court and marries the eldest daughter, and takes his place as a “chief of a tribe of the finest in his land.”

After some years, “a strong man of Retenu…without equal” challenges Sinuhe in order to take his wealth. Sinuhe meets the challenger and shoots him in the neck with an arrow. As a result, Sinuhe takes the strong man’s possession as spoils and is renowned in the capital. Even so, Sinuhe is unhappy because he is an exile from Egypt. A report of his situation reaches the pharaoh, who issues a decree for his return. Though torn by his loyalty to the king of Retenu, Sinuhe hands over his property to his children and returns to Egypt.

2.1.6. Achilles and Hector in the Iliad[10]

Homer opens the Iliad by singing of the anger of Achilles. The hero is angry because Agamemnon has made him hand over the woman Briseis. Achilles had taken her in a raid with the idea of giving her to his friend Patroclus. The war against Troy began with Paris taking Helen from another man, and now Agamemnon has done the same to Achilles. With this, Homer throws into question the moral basis for this war. In anger, Achilles has withdrawn from the battle. He knows that he can return home and have a happy but hidden life with a wife and family, or he can stay and fight. The battle will bring him enduring glory, but he will also lose his life. Because of this offense and with nothing worthwhile to die for, Achilles has sworn not to fight. As a result, Hector, the Trojan hero, is able to rally his countrymen and threaten the Greek ships with fire. Though Achilles refuses to join the battle, his friend Patroclus returns to the fight in Achilles’ armor. Though warned, Hector kills Patroclus, and Achilles, now with something worth fighting for, returns to avenge his friend. The Greek and Trojan heroes meet in single combat. Achilles kills Hector, the paragon of civil and familial virtue. Even so, his anger is not assuaged. He drags the body around the city of Troy and refuses to return the body for burial. Finally, the last book tells how Hermes casts a great sleep over all the forces and leads Priam, king, and father, through the lines to beg for the body of his son. Though Achilles’ anger still rages, he sees in Priam his own father, who will one day weep of him. With this insight, he saves his humanity and returns the body of Hector to Priam, bringing the epic to an end.

2.2. Characters

The central character is, of course, the hero who defeats the enemy and rescues the helpless people and the helpless leader(s) of “our” side. The helpless leader, unable to meet the enemy threat himself, may first call and commission false heroes who either refuse the commission or cannot carry it out. The helpless leader, perhaps with the help of counselors, calls and commissions the hero; the hero’s parent may also play some role in this. Likewise, the parent and/or the leader often help the hero prepare for battle. The hero’s friend may also fulfill the role of helper and assist in the battle along with the hero’s army.[11] In the stories with human heroes, deities may assume the roles of divine leader, divine parent, and divine friend.

The enemy side consists basically of the enemy leader, the enemy champion, and the enemy army; the roles of leader and champion may be combined in the enemy king.

2.3. The Beginning: The Description of the Hero, the Threat, and Helplessness

The story may open with a description of the hero, as does the Anzu Myth, which begins with a celebration of its hero, Ninurta.[12] Marduk, the hero of the Enūma eliš, makes his appearance in a traditional birth episode at the end of the first story in which Ea slays Apsu.[13] The birth makes Marduk the youngest of the gods, and this fact serves in the story as the hero’s impediment, that is, the reason which keeps the hero from undertaking the fight immediately. Because of Marduk’s youth, the gods do not immediately think of him as the hero. In other stories, the hero’s impediment may be as simple as his absence from the place of encounter or as complex as Achilles’ anger, announced in the epic’s opening line. In the Gilgamesh Epic, the hero’s disdain for death reveals his lack of maturity, but here the flaw spurs the hero to seek out the battle with Ḫumbaba.[14] Sinuhe, in a momentary act of cowardice, fled from Egypt during the accession of Sesostris I (B 1‑45); this act of cowardice colors his whole story. However developed, the motif serves to increase the dramatic tension while developing significant themes in the narrative.

The tension of the story arises with the enemy’s threat and display of great power. The threat may take the form of “attack,” but in general, the motif unfolds in such a way that the threat, though imminent, remains only a threat so that “our” side has time to react. The siege of a city or the enemy’s encampment provides a simple solution; likewise, the appearance of a messenger with outrageous demands, a challenge to fight, or the timely discovery of the enemy’s plan may serve the purpose.[15]

The enemy’s power is always overwhelming whether in quantity, quality or both. The greater the power is the greater the fall, and, therefore, the greater the hero who achieves the victory. Finally, the enemy must have a motive, even a bad motive, for taking such drastic actions—the more complex the motive, the greater its importance for the central themes of a specific story. Traditionally the enemy represents the antithesis of order, the threat of chaos, but the storyteller may explore this theme in many ways. The enemy champion embodies this theme as the concrete expression of the foreboding chaos, as opposed to the hero who represents the summary expression of the ideals of “our” side.[16]

After presenting the enemy threat and prowess, the reaction of helplessness by “our” side follows and provides the rationale for the middle section of the story with its commission of the hero. While fear is a common expression of helplessness, other imagery, such as weeping, drooping heads, retreat, or the like, may convey the sense of powerlessness.[17] In the Enūma eliš and the Anzu Myth, silence serves as the motif of helplessness in contrast with the enemy’s power of speech derived from the possession of the Tablets of Destiny.[18] While underlining the need for a hero, helplessness also has negative implications for the leadership of “our” side. It may foreshadow a change of leadership with the hero becoming the leader. Finally, both the motifs of the enemy’s threat and the reaction of helplessness renew and heighten the tension.[19]

To summarize, the opening section may introduce the hero with the reason why he cannot undertake the fight immediately. In any case, the opening presents the story’s central tension: the enemy’s threat and great power and the reaction of helplessness by “our” side further

2.4. The Middle: The Call and Commission of the Hero

While typically raising the threat and reaction of fear, the middle section puts into place the means for resolving the tension. Basically, “our” side must find, recognize and commission a hero to meet the enemy. Since the traditional audience knows that the hero will arrive and resolve the threat, the storyteller must create obstacles to retard the story and increase both the tension and the interest. Often “our” side does not recognize the hero initially, and the hero’s impediment may block the possibility of taking up the fight immediately.

The call and commission may consist of a simple request and acceptance, but the storyteller has several possible avenues, which I have divided into four parts.

1. 1. general call for a hero;
   2. call and commission of false heroes;
   3. call and commission of the hero;
   4. preparation for battle.

In the stories of human heroes, a divine commission may be added, i.e., the commission of a human hero by a deity.

2.4.1. General call

If the hero is unknown or at least not apparent to the leader (s), the middle section may open with the council of leaders and a general call followed by the offer of a reward. In the Anzu Myth, the motifs of threat and helplessness bring about a council of the gods where Anu asks:

[A]nu made ready to speak
Saying to the gods his children:

general call:        “[Which] one would slay Anzu?

reward:                He shall make for himself the greatest name in [eve]ry habitation.[20]

The general call designates no specific person but calls for volunteers or suggestions. The story of Jephthah provides a parallel; there, the elders of Gilead ask:

general call:        “Who will begin the fight against the Ammonites?

reward:                He shall be head over all the inhabi­tants of Gilead” (Judg 10:18).

The general call is a stock motif used to open a scene of commission for non-warriors as well. In 1 Kgs 22: 20 the general call is found without the offer of a reward: “The Lord said, ‘Who will entice Ahab that he may go up and fall at Ramoth-gilead’”; so also in Isa 6:8. The hero’s reward, of course, is a traditional motif and need not be tied to the general call. As found in the Anzu Myth and Judg 10:18, the two most common rewards are a great name and leadership, or more specifically, kingship.

2.4.2         Call, commission, and failure of the false heroes

The call and commission of the false heroes follow the same patterns used for the hero, but they either refuse the commission or fail in the attempt.[21] Though good and worthy warriors, the false heroes reveal by their failure the extraordinary qualities that the hero must possess. More pragmatically, their failure removes any of the hero’s potential rivals, an important point in the Enūma eliš where the hero emerges as the head of the pantheon. Finally, the episode carries the fortunes of “our” side still lower and ends with a returning motif of helplessness.

2.4.3. The call and commission of the hero

Biblical scholars have widely discussed episodes of call and commission under the title of “call narrative.”[22] With the exception of the warrior Gideon, the studies have concentrated upon material related to prophets in which an objection is raised to the call and commission by the Lord. The narrow focus of biblical scholarship has caused it to overlook the wider application of the form. The four patterns below apply equally to prophets, warrior-heroes, servants, messengers—in short, to anyone commissioned to carry out a specific task. Even so, I shall cast my terminology in terms of the battle narrative, i.e., hero and leader.

In this study, the call refers to the element of request, and it may be initiated either by the leader or the hero; i.e., the leader may call the hero to receive the commission, or the hero may call for the commission from the leader. The commission, as N. Habel defines it, “is regularly couched in terms of a direct personal imperative which embraces the essential goal of the assigned task.”[23] The central call and commission in the heroic tradition take place between the hero and the leader of “our” side, the latter usually being a helpless leader. Others, especially by the hero’s parent or a divine leader, may take this role. The type of leader has ramifications for the commission’s content, which I shall take up shortly. There are four logical patterns.

1. The leader calls and commissions the hero,
   and the hero accepts.[24]
2. The hero calls for the commission,
   and the leader commissions him.[25]

These two patterns differ only in the person taking the initiative. Neither holds much dramatic tension; thus, an objection or, less dramatically, a question may be raised by one and answered by the other. This further complication yields two derivative patterns:

3. The leader calls and commissions the hero;
   the hero raises an objection or question;
   the leader answers this;
   and the hero accepts.
4. The hero calls for the commission;
   the leader raises an objection or question;
   the hero answers this;
   and the leader commissions the hero.

The third pattern corresponds to what biblical scholars have termed the “call narrative.” A further example is found in the Iliad, which contains both question and objection (XVIII 170-216). Iris commands Achilles to rouse himself and help recover the body of the dead Patroclus (call and commission). Achilles questions the source of this commission, and Iris answers that Hera has sent her. Achilles then objects that he cannot carry out the commission because he has promised his mother Thetis not to enter the battle until she has brought new armor. Iris answers the objection by telling the hero that he need only mount the battlement, and with that, Achilles accepts and rouses himself. The pattern also appears in the commission of Jephthah (Judg 11:7-8) and of the false heroes in the Anzu Myth, where the leader withdraws the call from each false hero after he objects.[26] In the Iliad, the leaders call, commission, and beg Achilles to fight, but because of his anger, he refuses.

In the fourth pattern, the hero’s initiative is paramount. The leader’s circumspection affords the hero a second speech in which he can reveal with greater resolve his determination to fight. The leader’s objection deserves close attention, for it typically touches the hero’s impediment and, therefore, a central theme. Such is the case in the Gilgamesh Epic, where the elders of Uruk object twice that the hero’s youthful heart “is bourne along by emotion.”[27]

In addition to the call and commission, other traditional motifs appear in the speeches of these scenes. The leader may accompany his call with an appeal to duty[28] and then add counsel, especially in the form of a battle plan.[29] If the leader is human, he may invoke a blessing and call for divine presence and aid.[30] In the case of divine commission, the content of the blessing becomes a statement, an assurance of divine presence and aid, as in the phrase, “I am with you.”[31] Commonly added to this is some form of encouragement, expressed most often by the phrase, “Do not fear.” This particular phrase has been studied especially by P.E. Dion, who argues that the phrase is not necessarily part of an oracle or limited to divine characters.[32] While I concur, it is mainly a deity who can offer the assurance necessary to make the encouragement meaningful. The encouragement motif, however, is not limited to the negative “Do not fear” but may be expressed positively as in the scene where Apollo commissions the disheartened Hector to re-enter the battle (Iliad XV254-261); the whole speech is a fine example of the divine call and commission:

encouragement:
“Take courage,”

assurance:
“a helper hath the son of Cronos sent … to stand by thy side and succor them, even me, Phoebus Apollo.”

call & commission:
“But come now, bid thy many charioteers drive against the hollow ships their swift horses.”

assurance:
“and I will go before and make smooth all the way for the chariots, and will turn in flight the Achaean warriors.”

The hero’s initiative in these scenes is typically triggered by his reaction of righteous indignation when informed of the enemy’s threat. This anger contrasts with the reaction of helplessness by the others. The righteous indignation may carry into his call for the commission or color his response to the leader’s call.[33] Where the hero seizes the initiative, his call for the commission is more often an assertion that he will fight; still, he cannot do this without the leader’s official consent. In his call for the commission, the hero may also take over the encouragement motif and bid the helpless not to fear.[34]

2.4.4. Preparation for battle: the arming of the hero and muster of the army

Once the hero has received and accepted the commission to fight the enemy, the preparation for battle follows with the hero arming himself and mustering the army. The hero’s weapons and armor, perhaps made especially for the occasion, reflect his greatness. Achilles’ shield is the most famous example, but the clubs that Kothar makes for Baal become the focus for that story.[35] Others, such as a leader, parent, or friend, may assist him.[36] Sinuhe, for instance, spends the night preparing his bow, sharpening his dagger and polishing his weapons.[37]

The army may be considered a collective hero. If necessary, it is mustered with as its own call and commission.[38] The mounting of the chariot, drawn perhaps by named horses, leads to the transition from “our” camp to the place of battle.[39]

2.4.5. Journey

Though often abbreviated here, the journey can be a major scene where the distance is great, as in the story of Gilgamesh.,[40] Along with the battle pattern, the journey can serve as a basic plot, as in the Odyssey.[41] It confronts the hero with situations beyond the normal world of sedentary life (as if Penelope did not have her own problems). Like the battle narrative, the journey may become a complex narrative embracing the whole of traditional literature with episodes of hardship and hospitality, hostility and victory, and more. The journey may even take the hero into the fantastic world of the dream or the unknown world of death. Thus the journey may travel the length of human experience to try the hero’s physical prowess, intellectual acumen, and moral strength.

As a compendium of human experience, the great journeys are symbols of passage: from youth to maturity (Telemachus), ignorance to wisdom and realism (Gilgamesh), alienation to reconciliation (Sinuhe), chaos to order (Aeneas), temptation and trial to victory (Odysseus), bondage to promise (the Exodus), punishment to forgiveness (the Exile and Return of Judah). The complexities of these classic journeys carry more than the basic themes outlined above. Still, these journeys attempt to reverse the most fundamental human transition: the movement from life to death. Each story solves this fundamental human problem differently. For Gilgamesh, the triumph comes in the acceptance of mortality as his lot. For Sinuhe, the reconciliation with the pharaoh brings the return to Egypt to prepare a tomb for the voyage of death. Aeneas carries the penates from the defeated Troy to The Eternal City, Rome. As Northrop Frye points out, the fundamental biblical journey begins with the expulsion from the Garden, which brings death. Abraham makes a journey to the promised land; his progeny journey to Egypt and return in the Exodus and later to Babylon and back. The New Testament tells of the journey to Jerusalem and then to Rome with the final journey ending with the New Jerusalem where “death will be no more” (Rev 21:4).[42]

2.4.6. Variations on a single motif or pattern

To summarize: This section’s major motifs are the call and commission, which the storyteller may unfold in many ways. The story may open with a general call for a hero. False heroes may then be called and commissioned only to fail. The hero’s call and commission by the leader of “our” side may be preceded or followed by a similar scene with the hero’s parent.[43] Where the hero is human, he typically calls for a divine commission from his deity.[44] Motifs of threat and helplessness from the opening section may appear even several times to raise the tension. The preparation for battle likewise may be divided into several scenes. These motifs, therefore, form interchangeable parts which can join together and form many configurations depending upon character, theme, and the storyteller’s genius.

In the Enūma eliš, the initial reactions of helplessness give way to the call and commission of Ea and Anu. The failure of these false heroes provokes a renewed reaction of helplessness which this story characterizes, especially by sitting still and silent (II 53-87). The lesser deities join the triumvirate to form a new council in which Ea breaks the silence and names Marduk as the hero (II 88-95). The hero’s father then calls, exhorts, and commissions Marduk to present himself to the leader Anshar (II 96-102). In the scene with the leader, Marduk seizes the initiative; he encourages the leader not to be “muted” and calls for the commission which Anshar grants (Ee 139). Marduk then demands a reward of kingship before the battle has even begun. The hero’s initiative concerning the reward demonstrates his total command of the situation. Anshar accepts this demand happily and convokes a larger council using a traditional messenger episode.[45] The messenger reports the enemy’s threat, bringing a further reaction of helplessness (III 1-128). The new council takes place within the context of a banquet, another traditional episode.[46] After the gods make Marduk king, they renew the commission and prepare him for battle with a gift of “matchless weapons” (III 129 – IV 34). The hero then prepares for battle himself: he constructs a bow and net and then gathers meteorological forces, treated ambiguously as weapons and army. Finally, “wrapped in an armor of terror,” Marduk mounts his chariot, drawn by named winds, while the other deities remain worried and helpless until the end (IV 35-62).

The Enūma eliš adds an important twist with the hero demanding the reward of kingship before the battle. Even so, the storyteller builds these scenes from traditional motifs and patterns. The same is true of the other stories. Even the lengthy middle section of the Iliad (XVI-XIX) deals with a false hero, calls and commissions, preparation for battle, mixed with other traditional elements such as the reconciliation of hero and leader[47] as well as the lament over a dead hero.[48] Whatever the obstacles or complications, the hero emerges in the end with a commission confirmed by the whole society, represented by the leader.

2.5. The Resolution: Victory, Plunder, and Recognition

The story’s major tension resolves with the hero’s victory over the enemy champion, which allows “our” side to defeat and destroy the enemy army. The taking of plunder leads to the recognition of the hero, which rounds out the story and brings it to a close.

2.5.1. Single-combat

The single combat consists of the following traditional elements:

• the meeting of the warriors;
• the verbal exchange between the two warriors:
• the enemy’s false confidence;
• the enemy’s insults;
• the hero’s indictment of the foe and enemy.
• the hero’s initial failure
• help from other helpers
• the enemy’s failure
• the hero’s mortal blow with a missile
• the enemy’s fall to the ground
• the hero’s triumphal stance over the body
• the mutilation of the corpse with a hand weapon

The meeting of the warriors may include motifs from the earlier section, such as the description of the enemy’s great power. The verbal exchange typically contains major themes, found especially the hero’s indictment of the enemy.[49] The enemy’s speech with its insults raises the audience’s contempt and manifests the enemy’s moral emptiness.[50] The introduction of the enemy’s false confidence, a motif also found elsewhere, adds dramatic irony to the story.[51] The hero’s initial failure creates a new tension and retards the climax.[52] Furthermore, it shows his dependence upon outside help and brings a return to motifs of the middle section: new strategies for battle, new weapons, and perhaps new assurances or encouragement.[53] The enemy’s failure likewise retards the climax.[54] Beyond this functional dimension, both motifs of failure may have thematic implications for our understanding of the story.

The hero’s mortal blow to the enemy comes from some sort of missile: spear, arrow, stone, flying club. [55] The enemy then falls to the ground,[56] and the hero takes a triumphal stance over the body to represent the outcome visually. [57] Finally, the mutilation of the corpse with a hand weapon provides a final symbolic gesture illustrating the complete destruction of the enemy champion. [58]

2.5.2. The defeat of the enemy army

After the defeat of the enemy hero, “our” side recognizes the hero’s victory and completes it by defeating the enemy army. With this, the opening motifs of the story are reversed. “Our” side now poses the threat, and the enemy reacts with helplessness. The section unfolds as follows:

• enemy’s recognition of defeat:
  • the enemy’s reaction of helplessness;
  • the enemy’s flight.
• recognition of victory by “our” side:
  • a shout[59]
  • the pursuit of the enemy
  • the great or total destruction of the enemy.

The scene is a stable feature of the royal battle narratives,[60] but in these six stories of single-combat, the enemy army appears only in the Enūma eliš and the Iliad. Homer tells the destruction of Troy only in the Odyssey. In the Enūma eliš, Marduk himself defeats Tiamat’s army and takes the Tablet of Destinies from Qingu.[61]

2.5.3. Plunder

Once the victory has been carried through, the plunder of the enemy takes place, for the spoils of war are also the trophies of victory. The hero typically receives a choice portion of the plunder, especially the slain’s weapons and armor.[62]

2.5.4. Recognition and reward of the hero

There follows the recognition of the hero by the leader and then by others, including the               • announcement of the defeat to “our” side.

• the reaction of joy and celebration
• recognition of the hero with reward and renown (name)
• victory hymn

If the main body of “our” side is distant from the battle, someone must bring the news, as in the Myth of Anzu.[63]

Recognition may take the form of gestures and speeches that promise imperishable renown and the great name. Kingship is the great reward for the hero, and it typically comes with other motifs: royal insignia, dynasty (wife and progeny), kingdom, a dwelling (temple or palace) in the capital (city or mountain) of the kingdom. The hero, who does not become king, still receives rewards, especially some part of the plunder symbolic of the battle. Finally, the human hero may recognize the role played by his deity in the victory, as in Sinuhe,[64] a motif more common in the royal battle narratives treated in the next chapter.

Victory brings renown, yet the goal is not the fleeting fame of the moment but enduring renown. As Gregory Nagy argues, imperishable renown and glory, κλέος—kleos in Greek, serves as a primary motivating force in the Iliad; however, the pursuit of glory and immortality is inextricably bound up with death.[65] Patroclus dies in the pursuit of glory (XVI 87-90), and Achilles knows in a revelation from his mother that if he fights, he will die young, but his “kleos shall be imperishable” (IX 410-416). When Odysseus meets the dead Achilles in Hades, he confirms the validity of the dead hero’s choice: “Thus not even in death have you lost your name, but ever shall you have fair kleos among all men, Achilles” (Od. XXIV 93-94).

Noteworthy in Odysseus’ statement is the parallel between kleos/“glory” and the “name,” for, in the ancient Near East, the theme of renown is often expressed by the motif of the name, especially as the greatest or an everlasting/enduring name. [66] Significantly, the Enūma eliš ends with the fifty names of Marduk, which describe his exalted power and responsibilities (VI 99 – VII 144). Likewise, the Myth of Anzu ends with the names of Ninurta.[67] In one of the earliest references from Mesopotamia, a hymn for Šulgi, a Sumerian king, names him as “hero, lord, mighty one of the foreign lands, the ‘champion’ of Sumer,”: “Like Anshar, may your name be placed in the ‘mouths’ of all the lands!”[68] The tradition endures in 1 Macc 6:44, where Eleazar “gave up his life to save his people and to win for himself an everlasting name.”[69] Likewise, before her battle, Judith proclaims that her victory “will go down through all generations of our descendants” (Jdt 8:32). By winning this name, the hero is able to establish for himself or herself a kind of immortality, sometimes symbolized also by the raising of a stele as a permanent monument.[70]

The multiplication of names in the Enūma eliš and the Myth of Anzu, therefore, forms a fitting close to the epic and serves as a victory hymn. The response of Athtart to Baal’s victory over Yamm has a similar function.[71] The victory hymn proper appears in Exodus 15, Judges 5 and Judith 16:1-17 to celebrate the battle, the hero, and, where appropriate, the hero’s kingship. Motifs are drawn from the battle narrative expand the hymn but not necessarily in a narrative sequence since the audience knows or knew the story. Again, every extant story of a victorious hero is a celebration of the hero’s glory and fame and so of the hero’s “name.” Where the story remains extant, the hero’s glorious name remains imperishable.

2.6. Conclusion

While the battle narrative may provide the framework for the whole story as in the Anzu Myth, the pattern may be repeated to form a larger story or joined with other motifs and patterns. In the Enūma eliš, the fight between Marduk and Tiamat is preceded by a theogony and the first battle between Ea and Apsu; after the primary battle, the scene of recognition alternates with a cosmogony. The whole of the Iliad presents a constant return of battle motifs and patterns. Still, in both stories, the single-combat stands at the heart of the story. In the Gilgamesh Epic and Sinuhe, the battle narrative combines with other traditional elements and patterns. The fight against Ḫumbaba belongs to Gilgamesh’s youthful adventures before the reality of death confronts the hero; the battle ironically underlines the hero’s immature understanding of death. This epic ends not with a battle but with a journey in search of immortal life. In Sinuhe, the fight forces the hero who once fled to “decide once more whether to flee or to stay and confront his personal difficulty.”[72] As such, the battle marks the transition from alienation to reconciliation, and the battle plays a vital role in this transition as a demonstration of the hero’s courage, as opposed to his youthful cowardice, which brought about his exile.

The larger context must be considered in assessing the significance of these stories as well as the internal factors: narrative world, characterization, particular thematic concerns. All of these factors contribute to the unique shape of each story. In short, there is a reciprocal relationship between form and content. Often this relationship is traditional, but the tradition does not account for everything, especially where the storyteller is of Homer’s caliber. Homer creates new horizons for the tradition, especially in his treatment of Hector. The Enūma eliš offers a basic example of the tradition, for there the lines between good and evil, hero and enemy are clearly drawn. The battle narrative is a story of triumph, the triumph of the hero over the enemy, and the triumph of good over evil.

2.7. Footnotes for Chapter 2