The Language of Akkadian Prayers in Ludlul Bēl Nēmeqi and its Significance within and beyond...

Mesopotamia in the Ancient World Impact, Continuities, Parallels Proceedings of the Seventh Symposium of the Melammu Project Held in Obergurgl, Austria, November 4–8, 2013 Edited by Robert Rollinger and Erik van Dongen

Melammu Symposia 7 Edited by Robert Rollinger (Helsinki / Innsbruck)

In collaboration with Ann Gunter (Evanston), Jaakko Hämeen-Anttila (Helsinki), Johannes Haubold (Durham), Giovanni-Battista Lanfranchi (Padova), Krzysztof Nawotka (Wrocław), Martti Nissinen (Helsinki), Beate Pongratz-Leisten (New York), Kai Ruffing (Kassel), Josef Wiesehöfer (Kiel)

Mesopotamia in the Ancient World Impact, Continuities, Parallels Proceedings of the Seventh Symposium of the Melammu Project Held in Obergurgl, Austria, November 4–8, 2013 Edited by Robert Rollinger and Erik van Dongen

Ugarit-Verlag Münster 2015

Mesopotamia in the Ancient World. Impact, Continuities, Parallels. Proceedings of the Seventh Symposium of the Melammu Project Held in Obergurgl, Austria, November 4–8, 2013

Edited by Robert Rollinger and Erik van Dongen

Melammu Symposia 7

© 2015 Ugarit-Verlag – Buch- und Medienhandel GmbH, Münster www.ugarit-verlag.com All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photo-copying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. Printed in Germany by Memminger MedienCentrum, Memmingen ISBN 978-3-86835-128-6 Printed on acid-free paper

Table of Contents Introduction: Obergurgl 2013, or A New Dawn for the Melammu Project ................ 1 Robert Rollinger

Old Battles, New Horizons: The Ancient Near East and the Homeric Epics ........ 5

Talking to God(s): Prayers and Incantations

Tzvi Abusch (Chair) Introduction ......................................................................................................... 35

Cynthia Jean Performing Rituals in Secluded Places: A Comparison of the Akkadian and Hittite Corpus ............................................................................................... 41

Patrick M. Michel Worshipping Gods and Stones in Late Bronze Age Syria and Anatolia ............. 53

Alan Lenzi The Language of Akkadian Prayers in Ludlul Bēl Nēmeqi and its Significance within and beyond Mesopotamia ............................................... 67

David P. Wright Ritual Speech in the Priestly-Holiness Prescriptions of the Pentateuch and its Near Eastern Context ................................................................................... 107

Alberto Bernabé To Swear to Heaven and Earth, from Mesopotamia to Greece ......................... 125

Martin Lang (Respondent) Response ........................................................................................................... 135

Et Dona Ferentes: Foreign Reception of Mesopotamian Objects

D. T. Potts (Chair) Introduction ....................................................................................................... 143

Giacomo Bardelli Near Eastern Influences in Etruria and Central Italy between the Orientalizing and the Archaic Period: The Case of Tripod-Stands and Rod Tripods ................................................................................................ 145

VI Table of Contents

Winfried Held and Deniz Kaplan The Residence of a Persian Satrap in Meydancıkkale, Cilicia .......................... 175

Joachim Ganzert On the Archetype of Sacral Rulership Legitimization and the Lower Court in the Lüneburg Town Hall ............................................................................... 193

Ann C. Gunter (Respondent) Response ........................................................................................................... 221

‘Fighting like a Lion’: The Use of Literary Figures of Speech

Simone Paganini (Chair) Introduction ....................................................................................................... 227

Sebastian Fink Metaphors for the Unrecognizability of God in Balaĝs and Xenophanes ......... 231

Johannes Haubold ‘Shepherds of the People’: Greek and Mesopotamian Perspectives ................. 245

Krzysztof Ulanowski The Metaphor of the Lion in Mesopotamian and Greek Civilization .............. 255

Amar Annus and Mari Sarv The Ball Game Motif in the Gilgamesh Tradition and International Folklore ........................................................................................ 285

Thomas R. Kämmerer (Respondent) Response ........................................................................................................... 297

Mesopotamia and the World: Interregional Interaction

Giovanni-Battista Lanfranchi (Chair) Introduction ....................................................................................................... 307

Reinhard Pirngruber šulmu jâši libbaka lu ṭābka : The Interaction between the Neo-Assyrian King and the Outside World ................................................ 317

André Heller Why the Greeks Know so Little about Assyrian and Babylonian History ........ 331

Julien Monerie Writing Greek with Weapons Singularly Ill-designed for the Purpose: The Transcription of Greek in Cuneiform ........................................................ 349

Krzysztof Nawotka Alexander the Great in Babylon: Reality and Myth .......................................... 365

Table of Contents VII

Birgit Gufler and Irene Madreiter The Ancient Near East and the Genre of Greek Historiography ....................... 381

Simonetta Ponchia (Respondent) Response ........................................................................................................... 397

The World of Politics: ‘Democracy’, Citizens, and ‘Polis’

Kurt A. Raaflaub (Chair) Introduction ....................................................................................................... 413

Kristoffer Momrak Identifying Popular Power: Who were the People of Ancient Near Eastern City-States? ....................................................................................................... 417

Kurt A. Raaflaub Lion’s Roar and Muses’ Song: Social and Political Thinking in Early Greek Poets and Early Israelite Prophets ..................................................................... 433

Sabine Müller A History of Misunderstandings? Macedonian Politics and Persian Prototypes in Greek Polis-Centered Perspective ............................................... 459

Raija Mattila (Respondent) Response ........................................................................................................... 481

Iran and Early Islam

Lucian Reinfandt (Chair) Introduction ....................................................................................................... 487

Aleksandra Szalc Semiramis and Alexander in the Diodorus Siculus’ Account (II 4–20) ............ 495

Tim Greenwood Oversight, Influence and Mesopotamian Connections to Armenia Across the Sasanian and Early Islamic Periods ................................................ 509

Lutz Berger Empire-building vs. State-building between Late Antiquity and Early Islam ................................................................................................. 523

Josef Wiesehöfer (Respondent) Response ........................................................................................................... 533

Representations of Power: Shaping the Past and the Present

Sabina Franke (Chair) Introduction ....................................................................................................... 539

VIII Table of Contents

Frederick Mario Fales Looking the God in the Eye: Sennacherib’s Bond with Destiny, from Rock Reliefs to Cylinder Seals ................................................................ 543

Dirk Wicke Assyrian or Assyrianized: Reflections on the Impact of Assyrian Art in Southern Anatolia ......................................................................................... 561

Rocío Da Riva Enduring Images of an Ephemeral Empire: Neo-Babylonian Inscriptions and Representations on the Western Periphery ................................................. 603

Christoph Schäfer Inspiration and Impact of Seleucid Royal Representation ................................ 631

Jonathan Valk and Beate Pongratz-Leisten (Respondent) Response ........................................................................................................... 643

List of Contributors ................................................................................................ 653 Index ....................................................................................................................... 657

The Language of Akkadian Prayers in Ludlul Bēl Nēmeqi and its Significance

within and beyond Mesopotamia

Alan Lenzi Ludlul bēl nēmeqi, “I will praise the lord of wisdom”, is a Standard Babylonian poem that describes a man’s experience of divinely-ordained suffering and recov-ery.1 The protagonist of the poem, a man of presumably high social standing named Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan, narrates his experience of Marduk’s anger in a first person retrospective account. After an opening hymn, the man describes how Marduk’s anger led to his social ostracism (Tablet I) and bodily affliction (Tablet II). Eventu-ally, however, Marduk relented and showed mercy to Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan, renewing his health (Tablet III) and restoring his standing in the community (Tablet IV).

Ludlul probably dates to the late second millennium BCE.2 As I have shown else-where, the poem is a product of learned scribes – conjurers (āšipū) – and, unsur-prisingly, provides ideological support for the conjurers’ professional credibility and institutional concerns.3 The text displays its scholarly character clearly in its high literary register of Akkadian, its tendency to use rare words and technical vocabu-lary, its inclusion of word plays and alliteration,4 and its incorporation of traditional scribal hermeneutics in service to both theology and literary presentation.5 Moreo-ver, despite its doxological character (and thus similarities to a hymn), the composi-

1 I have briefly discussed the poem’s various introductory issues, including its textual basis, in the State Archives of Assyria Cuneiform Texts handbook edition; see Annus/Lenzi, 2010: ix–lvi (referenced henceforth as SAACT 7). The preserved text of each of the fifty-four manu-scripts used in that edition is available in transliteration at http://oracc.museum.upenn.edu/ cams/ludlul/corpus. Throughout the present study, I follow the line numbering of SAACT 7, which for Tablets III and IV remains provisional. See SAACT 7: xiii–xvi and Lenzi/Annus, 2011: 200. Takayoshi Oshima believes we are missing a whole tablet of Ludlul between what SAACT 7 labels Tablets III and IV. If he is correct, Tablet IV would become Tablet V. Also, he believes this Tablet V (= SAACT 7 Tablet IV) is longer than the 120 lines reconstructed in SAACT 7. See Oshima, 2012a and 2012b, which is his review of SAACT 7. These sugges-tions are intriguing. I await a fuller presentation of his evidence – Oshima is preparing a new edition of the poem. 2 See SAACT 7: xviii. 3 See Lenzi, 2012. 4 See SAACT 7: xxvi–xxxiv. 5 Lenzi, forthcoming.

68 Talking to God(s): Prayers and Incantations

tion incorporates a variety of learned tropes into its text and draws on various genres to construct what I believe is a rather unique composition. It is one facet of this last literary characteristic that I wish to consider in this study. Specifically, I demonstrate through a literary comparison that Ludlul weaves the form, themes, and language of incantation-prayers into its text.

In a study from 2007 Paul Alain-Beaulieu made a statement that gave the impe-tus to my interest in this comparative matter.6 He wrote:

“[t]he feelings expressed in the prayers are very much the same as the ones we find in compositions about pious sufferers, that is to say, praise of the de-ity, sense of guilt, ignorance of the fault committed, feelings of dejection, paranoia, abandonment, bodily ailments and disease, and especially a desper-ate longing for the deity to relent. ( . . . ) The two great wisdom texts from Mesopotamia, Ludlul and the Theodicy, both created in the milieu of the exorcists, only present more sophisticated philosophical expositions of the religious emotions expressed in the šu¬illas.”7

I took up Beaulieu’s idea briefly in my introduction to the SAACT edition of Ludlul in an attempt to interpret the first person voice used in the poem. For the sake of background I cite my original comparative idea here at length.

“Perhaps the most significant and easily detected contribution of the first per-son voice to Ludlul is that it works in tandem with the poem’s content to acti-vate an analogy between the text and a well-known corpus of religious liter-ature: the šuilla-prayers. The first person voice along with the hymnic intro-duction, the extensive lamenting of personal suffering, including the loss of divine protection, and the praising of the deity for deliverance all recall in one way or another the form and content of the šuilla-prayers ( . . . ).”8 “But Ludlul is not actually a šuilla for several reasons. First, there are some glaring differences. Ludlul lacks any hint of petition ( . . . ) – an essential ele-ment of the šuillas, and the praise offered in Ludlul is rooted in both the past and the present. Praise in šuillas is always future, promised in anticipation of future divine intervention. Both of these differences are tied to the fact that Ludlul is a retrospective account. The suffering had already passed so petition was not necessary; the deliverance had already come so praise is not antici-

6 See SAACT 7: xxviii, n.54. 7 Beaulieu, 2007: 10–11. 8 At this point in the quote I cite Nabu 1 as a representative example. See Mayer, 1976: 469–472 for an edition and German translation; Foster, 2005: 697 and Seux, 1976: 301–302 pro-vide English and French translations, respectively; see also Lenzi, 2011: 325–337 for an intro-duction, notes, and translation. When referring to Akkadian incantation-prayers (and therefore also Akkadian shuila-prayers, which are a subset of incantation-prayers) I follow the system laid out in Mayer’s catalog (1976: 375–437), which was adopted by Frechette, 2012: 249–275 (for shuila-prayers only), and is now utilized in my online catalog of shuila-prayers (http:// www1.pacific.edu/~alenzi/shuilas/catalog.html). Namely, each distinct incantation-prayer is identified by the divine addressee followed by a number (e.g., Nabu 1, Ishtar 3, Sin 3, etc.).

A. Lenzi: The Language of Akkadian Prayers in Ludlul Bēl Nēmeqi 69

pated but already (being) offered. Second, Ludlul devotes a large section of the poem (Tablets III and IV) to not only praising the deity for deliverance but to actually describing how the deliverance was announced and imple-mented. This is a significant departure from what is found in šuilla-prayers. Finally, Ludlul differs from šuillas in that the sufferer in Ludlul II 12–48 protests his undeserved suffering, questions the knowability of the gods, and reflects upon the human condition generally. This is not standard šuilla mate-rial.9 Even if Ludlul is not actually a šuilla, the first person voice in Ludlul (in tandem with its content) is one way the author has connected his rather unique composition to a much more common and thus better known literary-religious genre. The first person voice is, in short, one way to orient the reader to the text’s genre. It tells the reader, ‘Think šuilla’”.10

After further consideration, I look back on this statement as inadequate. It does not fully appreciate the potential of the literary comparison between Ludlul and the genre of Akkadian incantation-prayers broadly construed.11 A fuller exploration re-veals more to this literary comparison, which is the present paper’s primary under-taking.

The method I have adopted here is to compare the elements in the literary struc-ture of incantation-prayers with the text of Ludlul, using both thematic affinities and shared vocabulary between the two to support and interpret these broad structural comparisons. Since Werner Mayer has analyzed the form, themes, and vocabulary of Akkadian incantation-prayers so fully in his published dissertation, I use his work as the main source of data on the incantation-prayers.12 And since incantation-prayers are attested among tablets from Hattusa (Adad 1a is attested in KUB 4 26A, and Ishtar 2 in KUB 37 36 and 37), I assume this genre has chronological priority to Ludlul, which as mentioned already was probably composed sometime in the late second millennium (perhaps in the 12th century BCE). After demonstrating that Ludlul in fact does reflect the form, themes, and language of the Akkadian incanta-tion-prayers in the first section of this paper, I will take up the interpretation of this fact more briefly in the second.

The second section interprets the significance of my findings in two stages. I first consider the results of the first part of the paper within the Mesopotamian social and

9 I would formulate this statement differently now: “Ludlul differs from šuillas in that the sufferer in Ludlul II 12–48 protests his undeserved suffering, questions the knowability of the gods, and reflects upon the human condition generally. This is not standard šuilla material”. These ideas do come up in shuila-prayers on occasion (see, e.g., Marduk 4, edited by Mayer, 2004 and Oshima, 2011: 346–353; see Foster, 2005: 680–682 for an English translation and Lenzi, 2011: 291–311 for introduction, notes, and translation), but they are not presented in such an elaborate or pointedly-formulated manner as they are in Ludlul. 10 See SAACT 7: xxviii–xxvix. 11 Therefore, I do not limit myself to shuila-prayers, i.e., those incantation-prayers that are marked with the shuila-rubric explicitly. For this definition of shuila-prayer, see Frechette, 2012. 12 See Mayer, 1976.


literary contexts and offer an interpretation of the results’ significance for Ludlul as a Mesopotamian text. I then offer two brief intercultural literary comparisons to con-textualize my findings within a broader cultural framework. In these comparisons I set the results about Ludlul from the first section (i.e., that the poem’s text reflects the traditional language of Akkadian incantation-prayers) alongside a biblical genre – individual psalms of thanksgiving – and a biblical book – the Book of Job, both of which, like Ludlul, are broadly concerned with human hardship, suffering, and resto-ration. I will not argue that these biblical texts are precisely comparable or gene-tically related to Ludlul. Rather, I suggest that considering this material alongside Ludlul will enrich our understanding of the literary findings of the first part of this paper by offering useful analogies from the broader ancient Near Eastern cultural context.

This paper therefore is about parallels: how the poetic language of a literary composition parallels (or, to anticipate a later discussion, alludes to) the genre of Akkadian incantation-prayers, and how this literary relationship parallels other rep-resentatives of ancient literature (limited to the early biblical tradition here) that re-flect human hardship, suffering, and restoration. Historically, the Melammu Sympo-sia have been interested in diffusionist perspectives on comparative work. Without derogating this kind of research – that I myself often engage in – I would like to suggest that integrating Mesopotamian materials into analogical comparative pro-jects, such as is proposed in the second part of this essay, offers exciting intellectual possibilities. On the one hand, such projects will push our perspectives on various comparative issues in the history of religions back to the early eras of human history. And on the other, which is of more interest to me as a Mesopotamian specialist, such comparative projects will help in our interpretation of the Mesopotamian materials by setting them within a broader conceptual framework of human religious activity.

1. A comparison of the literary structure of incantation-prayers and Ludlul It should be noted as a methodological given that comparison is not identification. As stated above, Ludlul is not an incantation-prayer. The purpose of comparing items A and B, Ludlul and Akkadian incantation-prayers, is not to equate the two or even to posit a direct genetic relationship. Rather, it is to learn something new about one or both comparanda, by interpreting their similarities and especially differ-ences.13

1.1. Six basic structural elements of incantation-prayers

Although variously construed and numbered, we may posit six basic structural ele-ments in the outline of an ideal Akkadian incantation-prayer: 1) invocation/hymnic

13 See Jonathan Z. Smith’s famous essay on the comparative method entitled “In Comparison a Magic Dwells” (1982: 19–35; reprinted, Patton/Ray, 2000: 23–44).


introduction, 2) self-presentation, 3) lament, 4) description of the supplicant’s acts, 5) petition, and 6) concluding praise.14 As with most formal generalizations, we should recognize the limitations of this list. These structural features do not occur in every single incantation-prayer; they do not always occur in the listed order; and when they do occur (in whatever order), they do not always occur with the same content, level of development, etc. Despite these limitations, the list is a useful heu-ristic for studying incantation-prayers. And as such, they will form the starting point for our comparison with Ludlul.

1.2. Invocation/Hymnic introduction and concluding praise

It is obvious from the poem’s opening hymn (I 1–40) and concluding paeans to Marduk (see especially IV 69–82, 120)15 that the poem’s structure fits well – if only generally – with the first and the last structural features of the incantation-prayers, namely, invocation/hymnic introduction and concluding praise. A couple of features within the poem’s opening and concluding praise supports this general similarity. First, as is often the case in the hymnic introductions of incantation-prayers, the several attributes celebrated in Ludlul’s opening hymn are relevant to the concerns of the rest of the text.16 The hymn lauds both Marduk’s brutal but temporary anger as well as his soothing and inevitable mercy. Moreover, he exercises these attributes, the hymn explains, in an inscrutable manner; no one can gainsay his will.17 These attributes are the theological foundation for the events that unfold in the life of the poem’s protagonist, Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan. Second, though the praise in Ludlul is not anticipatory as it is in the incantation-prayers,18 it does demonstrate a future

14 See Mayer, 1976: 34–35 for the basic outline with reference to previous studies and 36–37 for his more nuanced elaboration of the prayers’ structural features in light of the variety of actual texts – which vary in their inclusion of the identified structural elements and the num-ber of lines given to each. See also Frechette, 2012: 129–131 for a review and discussion. I leave aside for the present purpose the fact that most incantation-prayers bear a rubric and the (oft neglected) fact that they also frequently have associated ritual instructions. 15 The conclusion to the poem is still incompletely recovered. It must be admitted that non-doxological text occurs in the material after line 82 and before what the SAACT edition labels line 120. But the point remains that a major section in the last part of the poem’s final tablet concerns itself with praise. And the very last line of the poem clearly praises Marduk. On a side note, the final 20 lines (or thereabouts) of the poem may function similarly to the con-cluding lines of various hymns, in which the one on whose behalf the hymn is written is ex-plicitly named (IV 111) and various wishes are stated (see IV 113–118). I owe this insight to Takayoshi Oshima (personal communication). For the general point about the conclusion to hymns, see Oshima, 2011: 34. 16 See Hunt, 2010 for a thorough treatment of this issue in shuila-prayers and the more concise statements in Abusch, 2003 (treating incantation-prayers) and Abusch, 2005 (treating shuila-prayers). 17 I have examined the central role of Marduk’s sovereignty in the poem in Lenzi, 2012. 18 That is, the opening hymn is not preparatory for some petition expressed later in the poem; there are no petitions in the poem (see note 86 below). And the concluding praise is not look-ing to a time of post-recovery thankfulness as in incantation-prayers; the protagonist is al-


orientation and universal extent that may be viewed as a kind of variation on the theme of future praise one sees in the conclusions of incantation-prayers.19 One might compare phrases such as āmirūya ana dārâti dalīlīka lidlulū, “may all who see me resound your praises forever”, and āmirūya narbîki lišāpû ana nišī rapšāti, “may all who see me make your greatness manifest to the expansive peoples”.20 Note especially IV 77–82 in this regard:

ēma šaknat erṣeti ritpāšū šamê šamšu uštappa girra innapḫu mû illakū iziqqū šārū šūt Aruru ikruṣu kirissin [š]akittu napšātu petâ purīdu [ap]âtu mala bašâ Marduk dullā “Wherever the earth is established, the heavens stretched out, Wherever the sun shines and fire blazes, Wherever water flows and wind blows, Those whose lump of clay Aruru pinched off, [Li]ving beings, who walk along,21 As many [peo]ple22 as there are, praise Marduk!”

We see then how both the beginning of Ludlul and its conclusion reflect generally the structural positioning of praise within incantation-prayers.

But two specific discourse markers indicate that this general structural congru-ence between Ludlul and incantation-prayers requires some adjustment. The first discourse marker is the use of the first person precative of dalālu (ludlul) for the opening word of the poem, as one finds in hymns (e.g., the hymn to Gula in LKA 17).23 In contrast to this usage, the verbal form ludlul is typically found in the con-cluding praise of many incantation-prayers (compare, e.g., the oft-attested dalīlīka ludlul).24 This usage signals that our poem from the very start characterizes itself as a text offering thanksgiving, that is, the fulfillment of the final promise of future praise that a sufferer would have expressed when he engaged in the ritual recitation of an incantation-prayer.25 The second discourse marker is the concluding words of the poem, tanittaka ṭābat (IV 120), the Sumerian equivalent of which (za3-mi2-zu dug 3-ga[-am3]) forms the concluding praise in a large number of Sumerian texts,

ready recovered. 19 See the second part of this paper for further reflections on this aspect of the text. 20 See Mayer, 1976: 331, who cites other examples. 21 Literally, something like “endowed with life, opening the leg (i.e., taking a step)” (see CAD Š/1, 179). 22 Literally, “the teeming ones” or “the numerous ones”. 23 The text is edited in Ebeling, 1954. See Foster, 2005: 668–670 and Seux, 1976: 103–106 for translations. 24 See Mayer, 1976: 321–323. 25 See likewise van der Toorn, 2003: 76; Albertz, 2003: 102–105; Moran, 2002: 191; Wein-feld, 1988; and Röllig, 1987: 57.


many of which are classified as hymns.26 Thus, Ludlul announces from its inception and in its conclusion that its primary concern is doxological. That is, Ludlul begins and ends as would a hymn of thanksgiving.27 This recognition, however, does not negate our comparison with incantation-prayers. As was stated earlier, Ludlul is not an incantation-prayer. Even a quick perusal would show enough differences to sup-port that conclusion. Still, the general point remains: the poem opens and concludes with words of praise, which shows a general congruence with the form of incanta-tion-prayers. In light of the comparison of other structural features noted below, this general congruence with modification is worthy of recognition and interpretation.

1.3. Self-presentation

As is well-known, the supplicant’s self-presentation in incantation-prayers occurs in structural terms somewhere after the introductory praise – often directly after it.28 The language used for the self-presentation is rather formulaic. Variations exist, of course, but the following represents what one will commonly find.29 Simple personal identification:

anāku annanna mār annanna, “I, so-and-so, son of so-and-so, ( . . . )”

anāku PN (aradka / ardu pāliḫka / dušmû pāliḫka), “I, PN, (your servant / the servant who fears you / the servant who fears you), ( . . . )”

Personal identification with gods:

anāku PN mār ilīšu, “I, PN, son of his god, ( . . . )”

anāku annanna mār annanna ša ilšu annanna ištaršu annannītu, “I, so-and-so, son of so-and-so, whose god is so-and-so and goddess is so-and-so, ( . . . )”

anāku PN ša ilšu DN ištaršu DN, “I, PN, whose god is DN and goddess is DN, ( . . . )”

Although none of these formulae occurs in Ludlul verbatim, we do find a point of structural comparison between the self-presentation and Ludlul, which builds on the use of the first person voice in the poem (noted above).

26 This is readily verified with an advanced search of the term za 3 -mi 2 -zu at The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature (http://etcsl.orinst.ox.ac.uk/; accessed February 4, 2014). 27 Note that I have not identified Ludlul as a hymn. I do not believe this generic classification does full justice to the complexity and sophistication of the poem. The poem is hymn-like. 28 See Mayer, 1976: 47 for the variation in position vis-à-vis the other elements in the prayer: before the lament, before the description of the supplicant’s acts, and, rarely, before the peti-tion and even before the concluding praise (e.g., Shamash 76 MS C, see Mayer, 1976: 513). 29 See Mayer, 1976: 48–52.


After the first word of the poem, ludlul, which is of course a first person preca-tive verb, we do not find another first person reference until near the end of the in-troductory hymn, that is, in lines 37 and 39, where we find two more precatives, lušāpi, “I will extol, make manifest”, and lušalmid, “I will teach”. Although these precatives probably serve a role in structuring the opening hymn,30 and they cer-tainly re-introduce the protagonist, whose story is about to unfold in I 41ff., and thus create a bridge between hymn and narration, the re-introduction of the first person voice directly after the large block of introductory praise evokes a structural parallel with incantation-prayers, which often place the self-presentation directly after the hymnic introduction.31 Furthermore, just as self-presentations in incantation-prayers often include references to the supplicant’s personal gods (see the formulae above), Ludlul likewise introduces the supplicant’s personal gods in I 43–44, that is, very shortly after the use of the first person forms in lines 37 and 39.32

iddânni ilī šadâšu īli ipparku ištarī ibēš aḫītum

“My god rejected me, he disappeared, My goddess left, she departed from my side.”

Although the purpose of introducing the personal gods in the incantation-prayers differs from the purpose in Ludlul – in fact, their purposes are quite opposite in that incantation-prayers often appeal to a high god to help resolve the supplicant’s alien-ation from the personal deities, whereas in Ludlul it is explicitly stated that the anger of a high god (I 41–42) has caused the supplicant’s personal deities to abandon him – the structural point remains: following the poem’s opening praise, the supplicant (re-)introduces himself and mentions his personal gods, just as we often find in in-cantation-prayers. This is the second time a structural feature of the incantation-prayer genre is adopted but also adapted.

1.4. Lament

Ludlul contains very sizeable blocks of material we may label “lament”. The first block begins immediately after the introductory hymn (I 41) and continues without relief until just before the end of Tablet I (I 118). After brief descriptions of Mar-duk’s anger (I 41–42), loss of personal divine protection (I 43–48), and ill-boding

30 See Moran, 1983 and Albertz, 2003, summarized in Lenzi, 2011: 484. 31 I have not yet conducted a full-scale search of all incantation-prayers, but I have found enough prayers that show this structural order to sustain the point. See, e.g., Damkina 1, Ea 1a MS E (see Mayer, 1976: 444), Ea, Shamash, Marduk 1a, Girra 2, Gula 1a MS H (see Mayer, 1976: 452), Ishtar 27, Marduk 5, Ninurta 1, Nusku 5, Nabu 1, Nabu 3, Nabu 4, Nergal 1, Shamash 1, Shamash 2, Shamash 25, Shamash 73, Shamash 88, and Sin and Shamash 1. There are certainly others. 32 I will also treat these same lines as part of the sufferer’s lament below. I do not think it is necessary to assign each line to one and only one structural feature. See likewise my treatment of the opening lines of Tablet II below.


and confused omens (I 49, 51–54), the lion’s share of the material in Tablet I de-scribes the protagonist’s loss of social position (I 55–104) and then concludes with a description of his misery (I 105–114) and of his inability to communicate with the divine realm (I 115–118). Lamentation begins again immediately at the start of Tablet II and continues through III 8. This material also falls into several themati-cally coherent sections: the protagonist’s alienation from divinity and divine com-munication (II 4–9), a two-part description of his “unmerited disfavor” (II 12–22, 23–32),33 his complaints about human ignorance and the vagaries of the human condition (II 33–48), the very extensive description of the protagonist’s physical suffering (II 49–107) – which dominates Tablet II (just as his social alienation dominated Tablet I’s lament material), a reprise of divine anger and failed commu-nication with the divine realm (II 108–113), and a description of the sufferer’s im-minent death (II 114–120). As I will suggest below, much of this material in Tablets I and II has thematic and lexical connections to the broader lament tradition. In terms of the structural comparison, I simply note at this point that this lament mate-rial follows both the opening praise and the sufferer’s self-presentation in the text of the poem. Structurally, this is precisely what we would expect in an incantation-prayer. And unlike the two previous structural features, the lament material in Ludlul is quite similar to what one finds in the incantation-prayers generally, as a few ex-amples will suggest.34

The sufferer’s descriptions of divine anger / loss of personal divine protection (I 41–48, II 4–5, II 112–113),35 on the one hand, and of his ill-boding or confused omens / general inability to communicate effectively with the divine realm (I 49, 51–54, I 115–118, II 6–9, II 108–111),36 on the other, take up common motifs in the incantation-prayers.37 These laments are the fountainhead from which all other la-ments pour forth; for without divine benignity and revelation, one is adrift and ex-posed in a world of chaos and evil. Though vocabulary and phrasing vary from prayer to prayer, there is some shared vocabulary in the incantation-prayers and the lines in Ludlul that evince these motifs. For example, compare this phrase from a dingirshadibba-prayer,

33 “Unmerited disfavor” is the term I use to characterize the existential contradiction felt by the sufferer. (It plays on a pious definition of “grace” one finds in American Christianity, “unmerited favor”.) Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan believes himself to be pious (II 23–32) but he feels as though he is being treated like an impious person – without cause (II 12–22). See Lenzi, 2012: 64 for this term applied to the biblical Job. 34 Since a full catalog of parallels is beyond the scope of the present study (and likely of little utility ultimately), a few examples under each theme will have to suffice. 35 See Mayer, 1976: 82, 93–99, and especially 93, n.55 for these themes in the incantation-prayers. 36 See Mayer, 1976: 99–106, and especially 104, n.75 for these themes in the incantation-prayers. 37 I think the fact that these themes occur at the beginnings and ends of the lament material in Tablets I and II has significance for the interpretation of the poem. See Lenzi, 2012.


ultu ūmi bēlī tēninanni ilī bānīya tašbusu elīya38

“From the day, O my lord, that you punished me, since you, O my god who created me, became angry with me, ( . . . )”

with Ludlul I 41–42,

ištu ūmi bēl īninanni u qarradu Marduk isbusu ittīya

“Fr[om] the day Bel39 punished me, and the hero Marduk became angry [wi]th me, ( . . . )”

Also, the personal gods (see ilī and ištarī in Ludlul I 43–44) are the most common divine being mentioned in the incantation-prayers’ divine alienation motif, though one also finds the protective spirit (šēdu) alienated from the supplicant as well (Lud-lul I 45).40 It is significant, I think, that Ludlul has not chosen to use typical “anger” verbs with the personal gods, though they are mentioned several times in the poem (and their anger seems to be implied in II 9). Ludlul describes the personal gods as having abandoned (nadû, šadâ elû, naparkû, bêšu) the sufferer, leaving him without protection, due to Marduk’s anger. As for evil and confused signs, note the following phrases from incantation-prayers that share vocabulary with Ludlul:

pardā šunātūya lemnā ḫaṭṭâ idātūya têrētūya dalḫā-ma ul īšâ purussê kitti “My dreams are terrifying. My signs are evil, malignant. My omens are so disturbed that they produce no dependable prediction.” (Marduk 5: 57b–58)41 (Compare Ludlul I 51, 54.)

aḫulap têrētīya nassāti ešâti u dalḫāti “Deliverance! For my wretched, confused, and disturbed omens!” (Ishtar 2: 48)42 (Compare Ludlul I 51 and II 109, ešû.)

38 The citation and identification of this text as a dingirshadibba-prayer is according to Mayer, 1976: 97, based on the unpublished tablets K.2425: 5–6 // K.9252: 7–8 (for which see http:// www.cdli.ucla.edu/dl/photo/P394425.jpg and http://www.cdli.ucla.edu/dl/photo/P397993.jpg, both of which support Mayer’s reading over, e.g., CAD E, 164 and CAD Š/1, 4). These lines do not occur in Lambert’s treatment of the dingirshadibba’s (Lambert, 1974). For a full treat-ment of these prayers, see Margaret Jaques’s forthcoming work. It should be noted that Mayer did not include dingirshadibba-prayers as primary data in his treatment of incantation-prayers, though he cites them occasionally for comparative purposes (Mayer, 1976: 16–17). 39 I prefer to read this word with MS ff from Nimrud, d

EN, or with MS m from Sultantepe, be-lum, both of which translate to “Bel” or “Lord”, against MS gg from Sippar, which has be-lí, “my lord” (assuming the final vowel is meaningful in this late text). See Lenzi, 2012: 43, n.18 for my reasoning. 40 See Mayer, 1976: 94. 41 See Mayer, 1993: 319, for the text. See also Oshima, 2011: 358. 42 Zgoll, 2003: 44, line 48.


[ep]er sūqi abā¬-ma egerrûya lā damqu “When I stroll along the dusty street, my egerrû was unfavorable.” (Ishtar 8: 9ˊ)43 (Compare Ludlul I 53.)

The loss of social standing, family, and livelihood as described in Ludlul I 55–104 is the most prominent theme in the lament material in Tablet I. Although the incanta-tion-prayers never match Ludlul’s extended meditation on these themes, they do very clearly convey the same thematic concerns. Note, for example, the lament in Sin 3, lines 56–60:

enūma ilī zenû ittīya ištarī nesât elīya ištu ulla ašaddad nissatu ilū tamṭâti idi iškunū elīya ṣītu ḫuluqqû butuqqû nušurrû magal šaknūnim-ma ītašuš libbī ikturu napištī 44 “Since my god has become angry with me, my goddess has withdrawn from me, I have long endured lamentation, for the gods have imposed a reduction of strength45 upon me. Expenses, losses, shortfalls, and diminutions are severely besetting me, so that my heart has become distressed, my life cut short.”

Shamash 6, lines 18b–22a express a similar sentiment within an incantation-prayer that is concerned with dispelling the evil of a curse and oath (ṣibit māmīti u ṣibit tulîya), which may have been put into effect by some friend, servant, sibling, or kinsman.

ēma allaku lā magir ina bīti ṣaltu ina sūqi puḫpuḫḫû šaknā 46 eli āmirīya marṣāku urra u mūša nazāqu šaknā-ma riteneddāni47 ḫuṣ ḫipi libbi ittīya raksū-ma lā paṭrū 48 “Wherever I go it is disagreeable. At home there is strife, in the street a brawl. I am sickening to my onlookers; night and day vexation beset and continually pursue me; heartache

43 See Mayer, 1976: 77, n.20 for the text of Si. 59:9ˊ. 44 See Mayer, 1976: 498–499 for an edition of the text. 45 The meaning of this phrase is unclear. Mayer translates “Minderungen der Kraft” (1976: 501). 46 Note the use of ṣaltu and puḫpuḫḫû, which occur together in several texts, in Ludlul I 116 to describe the sufferer’s failed supplication. 47 Predicative or finite form: irteneddāni? 48 See Ebeling, 1955: 146 for the text. Note that VAT 8885 = KAR 228 has a partial duplicate in Sm.1155 (noted in CAD Ṣ, 166).


is inextricably bound to me.” Note also the succinct statement in Ishtar 2, line 78:

sapḫat illatī tabīnī purrur “My family is dispersed, my shelter scattered.”49

The protagonist’s fear (see I 49 [pirittu], 54 [šuttī pardat], 74 [pirittu], 111–113 [adirat libbīya; pirittu u ḫattu; ina gitalluti], but also III 2 [puluḫtu]), on the one hand, and the gossip, slander, and malicious talk against the protagonist (see I 57–58 [taslītu, nullâtu], 69 [tuššu, napraku], 86 [nagāru], 88–90 [napištī kurruṣu; arāru; ṭapiltu], 94 [ṭapiltu]), on the other, appear repeatedly in the lament material of Lud-lul. The former is so ubiquitous in the incantation-prayers that examples are unnec-essary.50 As for the latter, note Ishtar 2, lines 56–58:

adi mati bēltī bēlū dabābīya nēkelmû¬innī-ma ina surrāti u lā kīnāti ikappudūni lemnēti rēdûya ḫādûya ištammarū elīya51 “How long, my lady, will my adversaries glower at me? With lies and untruths they plan evil things for me! My persecutors and those who gloat over me rage against me!”

The same is presented in an incantation-prayer that is embedded in an anti-witch-craft ritual. The supplicant draws an image of those who performed sorcery against him and describes them as follows:

ša kišpū īpušūni ikpudūni nullâti itgur libbašunū-ma malû tuššāti

“( . . . ) those who performed witchcraft against me, have schemed calumny against me, whose hearts are so twisted that they are full of slander ( . . . )”52

The laments in Tablets I 41–III 8 also present a broad description of the sufferer’s misery that includes his relentless moaning, complaining, weeping, sighing, and despairing. These occur throughout the material but form an especially strong con-stellation in I 105–114. Several examples could be cited among the incantation-prayers. A brief one comes from Marduk 24, line 39:

nissatu u lā ṭūb šīri iṭḫûnim-ma anassus ūmišamma53 “Lamentation and ill health54 draw near to me, so that I moan day after day.”

49 See Zgoll, 2003: 46 for the text. 50 See Mayer, 1976: 72–75. 51 See Zgoll, 2003: 45 for the text. 52 See Abusch/Schwemer, 2011: 309–310 for the text, following MS E. 53 See Mayer, 1999: 150, line 39 for the text. It is also available in Oshima, 2011: 403–408. See Ludlul III 7 for nasāsu. 54 Mayer (1999: 157) and Oshima (2011: 407) render lā ṭūb šīri as unfavorable omen results (Mayer: “übles Befinden”; Oshima: “unpleasant omens” in his line 29). Given the previous


Ishtar 2, 46–47, 49–50, 64–66 offer a longer example: aḫulap zumrīya nassi ša malû ešâti u dalḫāti aḫulap libbīya šumruṣu ša malû dimti u tānēḫi ( . . . ) aḫulap bītīya šudlupu ša unassasu bikâti aḫulap kabtatīya ša uštabarrû dimti u tānēḫi ( . . . ) adammum kīma summatu mūši u urra nangulākū-ma abakki ṣarpiš ina ū¬a â šumruṣat kabbattī55 “Ahulap for my groaning body, which is full of confusion and turmoil. Ahulap for my wretched heart, which is full of tears and sighing. ( . . . ) Ahulap for my sleepless household, which moans from weeping. Ahulap for my emotions, which continue with tears and sighing. ( . . . ) I moan like a dove day and night. I burn(?) and weep bitterly. My emotions are in agony with ‘woe’ and ‘alas’.”56

One also finds parallels in the incantation-prayers for the long sections in Tablet II that I have called laments of “unmerited disfavor” (II 12–22, 23–32), complaints about human ignorance (II 33–38), and the vagaries of the human condition (II 39–48). Such laments are rooted in the finite understanding humans have of their own experience in the world. A few examples follow.

Ishtar 2, lines 67–68 compare very well to Ludlul II 12–22:

mīnâ ēpuš ilīya u ištarīya anāku kî lā pāliḫ ilī u ištarī anāku epšēk57

“What did I do to my god and goddess? I am treated as though I do not revere my god and goddess!”

Note also the existentially poignant words of Marduk 4, lines 8–15:58

amēlūtu mala šuma nabât anna ramānīša mannu ilammad mannu lā išēṭ ayû lā ugallil

lines’ concern with illnesses, I think the above rendering is contextually more appropriate. See likewise CAD Š/3, 117 and Ṭ, 119 (despite mistakenly listing the reference among omen apo-doses). 55 See Zgoll, 2003: 44 for the text. 56 See similarly lines 12–14 in Lambert, 1974: 274–275; and Abusch/Schwemer, 2011: 297, lines 49–53 (translated on p. 302). 57 See Zgoll, 2003: 44 for the text. 58 See Mayer, 2004: 202 for the text. See also Oshima, 2011: 348.


alakti ili mannu ilammad lutta¬id-ma gullultu lā arašši ašrāt balāṭi lušte¬¬ī-ma ina arrati ittabbula ina ilī qabât qāta ša ili ana amēli babālu “Human beings, by whatever name – Who among them can ascertain their own sin? Who has not been negligent; what person has not sinned? Who can understand the way of a god? I ought to be vigilant lest I acquire sin. I ought to search out relentlessly the sanctuaries of life. But it is decreed by the gods to go about tasks under a curse, for a man to bear the hand of the god.”

One could likewise look to the dingirshadibba-prayers for several relevant lines.59

In line 49 of Tablet II the poem begins a very long description of the protago-nist’s physical suffering (II 49–120).60 This too finds a parallel in many incantation-prayers.61 The lament in prayers that include this element may be a single formulaic line, such as ša ina zumrīya šīrīya u šer¬ānīya bašû, (some evil) “which is in my body, flesh, and sinews”.62 Or, the lament may consist of a series of complaints about the body. Such a series may be focused on one body part (e.g., the eyes, as in LKA 142: 24b–27)63 or, as in Ludlul, on many parts affected by the evil. Some of the longest of the latter – too long to cite here – are found in incantation-prayers embed-ded in anti-witchcraft rituals, edited anew recently by Abusch and Schwemer.64

The sufferer’s lamentation of his imminent death (II 114–120) is likewise paral-leled in the incantation-prayers.65 For example, Nabu 1, line 15 reads:

59 See Lambert, 1974: 274–287, Section I, lines 29, 44–46, 71–87, 132–134, and Section II, 1–6, 10–17. 60 It is worth noting that just as this listing of physical maladies begins we find an emphasis on the first person voice ([ana] yâti) and the supplicant referring to himself as the “weary one” or “exhausted one” (šūnu[ḫu]), a term often used in incantation-prayer laments to describe the supplicant. The term is used twice more in the dreams of Tablet III (lines 38 and 55 [partially restored]) to describe the protagonist. According to Mayer (1976: 71–72), the term occurs thirteen times in incantation-prayers. Among the adjectives used in laments listed by Mayer, only the related anḫu, “tired”, occurs more often (14x). 61 See Mayer, 1976: 85–86. Of course, the listing of physical maladies is also quite similar to the symptoms listed at the beginning of therapeutic texts, many of which include incantation-prayers. 62 See Mayer, 1976: 86 for many of the attestations. 63 Translated in Mayer, 1976: 80. 64 See, e.g., Abusch/Schwemer, 2011: 259–260, 264–265, 275–275, 284. 65 For the recurring use of ikturu/takturu napištī, “my breath has become short”, which proba-bly means the person has come near to death, in several incantation-prayers, see Mayer, 1976: 83.


ittatlakū ūmūya šanātūya iqtatâ66 “My days have passed, my years have come to an end.”

Another good example is found (again) in the long lament in Ishtar 2. Lines 74–76 read:

ukallânni mūtu u šapšāqu šuḫarrur sagêya šuḫarrurat aširtī eli bīti bābi qarbātīya šaqummati tabkat67 “Death and hardship have a hold on me, My shrine is deathly still, my chapel is deathly still, Deathly silence is poured out over my house, gate, and fields.”

I could belabor this point and compile a much longer litany of parallels. But I think the above suggests rather strongly that the laments in Ludlul share a great many features with the laments of Akkadian incantation-prayers.68

One might wish to argue that the above only proves that the lament material in both the incantation-prayers and Ludlul derives from a common source within the conjurers religious world. I would not oppose such a view in principle. However, the results from comparing other structural features of incantation-prayers to Ludlul support the more specific claim made here: Ludlul is following the form and lan-guage of incantation-prayers.

1.5. The description of the supplicant’s actions

Although not recognized by previous interpreters of incantation-prayers, Mayer identifies a structural feature that he calls “the description of the supplicant’s ac-tions” (“Schilderung des Tuns des Beters”). Mayer defines this feature of incanta-tion-prayers in the following manner:

“When a person turns to the deity with a concern, he does so using the same forms that a petitioner usually uses to turn himself to the one in power and helps himself by means that prove useful to him for this purpose. 1. He lo-cates where the god holds an ‘audience’; he expresses in bodily comportment and gestures that he is coming as one seeking help; and he addresses the de-ity, requesting a hearing and help with regard to the particular concern. 2. He accompanies and supports his petition by means of the gifts he offers to the deity (food, clothing, etc.), which please, honor, exalt, and make him inclined to accede to the petitioner. 3. When the ritual in question requires it, he also manufactures certain medically and magically effective things (e.g., a salve, an amulet, a figurine) and carries out the corresponding action with it (e.g.,

66 See Mayer, 1976: 470 for the text. 67 See Zgoll, 2003: 46. 68 This is not to suggest, of course, that there are no parallels to, e.g., eršaḫungas. See n. 105 below and Lenzi, 2012: 53 for some examples.


analogical magic with figurines of malevolent powers).”69

Mayer labels these three categories of the petitioner’s acts as 1. “turning” (“Hinwen-dung”) to the deity, 2. ritual actions, and 3. magical/medical enactments, all of which are positioned variously with regard to other structural features of incantation-prayers.70 Magical/medical enactments are absent from Ludlul. The other two of Mayer’s categories, however, turning to the deity and ritual actions,71 seem comparable to what we see in the first third of Tablet II.72

1.5.1. Turning to the deity

Four verbs commonly found in “turnings” within incantation-prayers occur in the first dozen lines of Tablet II. I suggest these be read as markers that we are in fact dealing with a “turning” of sorts in this part of the poem. In lines 2 and 11, which surround the lines dealing with the loss of divine presence and communication, the protagonist turns about literally (saḫāru)73 only to find evil (lemun lemun-ma; line 2) and looks (amāru)74 behind him only to find harassment and trouble (rīdâti ippiru; line 11). In lines 4 and 5 he calls out (sasû)75 and implores (sullû)76 his personal gods, though they do not respond.

A close examination of this “turning” in light of what we expect in incantation-prayers raises a major difference between the purpose of incantation-prayers and the

69 “Wenn der Mensch sich mit einem Anliegen an die Gottheit wendet, tut er das in den For-men, in denen sich auch sonst ein Bittsteller an einen Mächtigen wendet, und bedient sich der Mittel, die ihm für diesen Zweck zustatten kommen. 1. Er sucht den Gott dort auf, wo dieser ‘Audienz’ gibt, er drückt in Körperhaltung und Gesten aus, dass er als Hilfesuchender kommt; er spricht den Gott an, bittet ihn um Gehör und um Hilfe für das jeweilige Anliegen. 2. Er begleitet und unterstützt seine Bitte dadurch, dass er dem Gott Gaben (Nahrung, Kleidung usw.) darbringt, die diesen erfreuen, ehren, ‘erhöhen’ und ihn so bereit machen, dem Beter zu willfahren. 3. Wenn der betreffende Ritus es verlangt, stellt er ausserdem bestimmte medizi-nisch oder magisch wirksame Dinge her (z.B. eine Salbe, ein Amulett, eine Figur) und führt damit die entsprechenden Verrichtungen durch (z.B. Analogiezauber mit den Figuren der Schadensmächte)” (Mayer, 1976: 119). 70 Mayer, 1976: 120–122. Mayer only explicitly discusses the position of the first sub-cate-gory, the turning (Mayer, 1976: 124–126). A perusal of the incantation-prayer corpus will show, however, that the other two sub-categories, ritual actions and magical/medical enact-ments, are typically found somewhere after the introductory hymn and before the closing praise (i.e., in the body of the prayer). 71 See Mayer, 1976: 122–149, 150–161, respectively, for his full exposition of these issues. 72 I realize that I have also labeled this material as lamentation. I do not think the overlap is a major concern. 73 See Mayer, 1976: 136–137 for this verb in incantation-prayers. 74 See Mayer, 1976: 133 for this verb in incantation-prayers. Note the use of amāru with saḫāru in the same line in Nusku 4: 45b (cited by Mayer and available in his edition of the text on p. 485). 75 See Mayer, 1976: 129–130 for attestations in incantation-prayers. 76 Again, see Mayer, 1976: 131 for this verb in incantation-prayers.


purpose of Ludlul. In an incantation-prayer the supplicant would normally turn or look to the deity to whom he is praying. The protagonist in Ludlul turns and looks in lines 2 and 10 but not to Marduk, in fact, never to a high god anywhere in the poem, for help. Why not? This question becomes even more important when one considers the fact that the sufferer’s supplications to the personal gods in lines 4 and 5 proved fruitless (II 9: āšipu ina kikiṭṭê kimilti ul ipṭur, “the conjurer with his rituals did not release the divine anger against me”).77 An appeal to a high god to remedy just such a situation is very common in shuila-prayers.78 As an example, note how the suppli-cant in the shuila-prayer Gula 1a requests that she help the supplicant restore his broken relationship with his personal gods and then later in the same prayer asks that she intercede on his behalf with Marduk.79 We see nothing like this in Ludlul.

I do not think we can blame this “oversight” on the protagonist’s impiety, as though he were not pious enough to consider looking to Marduk to resolve his prob-lems. As lines 6–9 indicate (and elsewhere in the poem), the sufferer did look to the officially approved ritual methods for dealing with unfavorable conditions in his life. It may be that we are to assume that the experts’ ritual failures in lines 6–9, espe-cially the statement in line 9, imply a failed appeal to Marduk to quell his anger. But I think this line relates to the alienated personal gods (as do II 12–22) rather than to Marduk. Thus, the answer to why the sufferer does not make an explicit appeal to Marduk (or any high god) in the narrative might simply lie in the cynical quip one hears to “explain” holes in the plot of movies: “It wasn’t in the script”. As I have shown elsewhere,80 Marduk’s inscrutable sovereignty is a major theme in the ideological purpose of the poem. His inexplicable anger is both a prerogative of this sovereignty and a precondition for the poem’s theological agenda. Marduk is not a slave to the ritual apparatus; he is above it. He will restore people to health. But he will do so whenever he pleases. A direct or even an indirect supplication to Marduk (e.g., in a shuila-prayer), which would have to be denied at this point in the unfold-ing of events (at least, as the poem would have us understand them), would speak against the god’s mercy, which though inevitable is only distributed on his timeta-ble. The beginning of Tablet II is not the time for mercy. The supplicant cannot turn or look to Marduk – not yet. The script will not allow it.

Despite this difference, I think the two verbs used in lines 2 and 10 along with the two appeals to the personal gods in lines 4 and 5 indicate the sufferer’s “turning” here in the poem – even if in an ironic manner. And I think this has structural sig-nificance. Mayer suggested a “turning” could function as a transitional element within the text of an incantation-prayer. I think this also applies to Ludlul II 1–11. This passage forms a transition at a structurally significant point in the poem, so that the “turning” described in lines 1–11 carries the reader from laments in Tablet I that

77 See Lenzi, 2012: 48. 78 See Frechette, 2011: 137–140 for an overview with statistics. 79 The most recent edition is in Mayer, 1976: 450–454, but note the new witness published in Lenzi, 2013b. Translations are available in Foster, 2005: 671–672; Seux, 1976: 337–338; and Falkenstein / von Soden, 1953: 327–328. 80 Lenzi, 2012.


are largely socially-oriented to the laments of Tablet II, centered on his “unmerited disfavor” (II 12–32), cynical musings about human ignorance (II 33–38), complaints about the vagaries of the human condition (II 39–48), and especially his physical suffering at the hand of Marduk (II 49–120).

1.5.2. Ritual action

The other relevant category Mayer includes in what he calls the “Description of the Supplicant’s Acts” is ritual action. Some examples from incantation-prayers that he lists include:81

mê nadû, “pouring out water” qaqqara ullulu, “purifying the ground” kussâ nadû, “placing a throne” riksa rakāsu, “setting out a cultic arrangement” unīqa nasāqu, “selecting a kid” niqê/kukkalla ṭabāḫu, “slaughtering a sacrifice/sheep” adagurra/tilimta zaqāpu, “setting up a cultic vessel/jar” kispa kasāpu, “bringing a kispu-offering” serqa/saskâ, etc. sarāqu, “scattering a flour offering, etc.”. mê/šikara/dašpa/karāna, etc. naqû, “pouring out water, beer, honey, wine, etc.”. qâšu, “giving” various things, simat ilūtīka/bēlūtīka, “fitting of your divinity/

lordship” gizillâ našû, “lifting a torch”

I suggest we compare, or perhaps it is better to say compare and contrast, these ritual acts to the material in II 12–38.

In lines 12–22 the sufferer describes how he felt he was being treated by listing acts of negligence, most of which center on ritual actions that only an impious per-son would commit.

kî ša tamqītu ana ili lā uktinnu, u ina mākālê ištarri lā zakru appi lā enû šukenni lā amru ina pîšu ipparkû suppê teslīti ibṭilu ūmu ili išēṭu eššeši iddû aḫšū-ma mêšunu imēšu palāḫu u it¬udu lā ušalmidu nišīšu ilšu lā izkuru īkulu akalšu īzib ištartašu maṣḫatu lā ubla ana ša imḫû bēlšu imšû nīš ilīšu kabti qalliš izkuru anāku amrāk82

81 See Mayer, 1976: 150–157 for these examples. 82 I now believe that this final verb is probably to be read amrāk, a shortened form of the 1cs predicative amrāku, instead of amšal, “I became like, equal to” (as was used in SAACT 7:


“As one who had not made libations to his god, and did not invoke his goddess with a food offering, who did not engage in prostration, was not seen bowing down, from whose mouth prayer and supplication have ceased, who abandoned the day of his god, disregarded the festival, became negligent and despised their rites, who did not teach his people to fear and to pay heed to the gods, who did not invoke his god when he ate his food, who abandoned his goddess, did not bring a flour-offering, like the one who raves(?), and forgot his lord, who invoked the solemn oath of his god in vain, that was how I was looked

\ upon.”

Lines 23–32, following immediately upon this complaint, offer the sufferer’s rebut-tal to this charge of negligence and impiety. He describes how he actually behaved with attentive piety toward ritual actions, which should have won him favor from the gods rather than his current unmerited disfavor.

aḫsus-ma ramānī suppê u teslītu teslītu tašīmat niqû sakkûya ūmu palāḫ ilī ṭūb libbīya ūmu ridûti ištar nēmeli tatturru ikribi šarri šī ḫidûti u nigûtašu ana damiqti šumma ušāri ana mātīya mê ili naṣāri šumi ištari šūqur nišīya uštāḫiz tanadāti šarri iliš umaššil u puluḫti ekalli ummânu ušalmid “In fact, I was attentive to prayers and supplications, Prayer was common sense, sacrifice my rule.83

19). Although the reading was adopted in the CAD a couple of times (CAD Z, 20 and M/1, 355), Moshe Held must be credited as the person who made the philological case for it in an unpublished paper presented to the American Oriental Society in 1981. I thank the late Victor Hurowitz for a copy of the typescript (that also included Held’s handwritten notes). Prof. Hurowitz informed me in 2011 via email that this and another paper on Ludlul would be published in a collection of Held’s papers that Hurowitz was editing. I do not know the cur-rent status of this project. 83 The Akkadian word tašīmat is a 3fs predicative, from the substantive tašīmtu, which the CAD renders with “practical intelligence, prudence, common sense, wisdom, judgment” (CAD T, 287–288). I think the first half of this line means something like “prayer simply made sense – of course I did it”. Sakkû in the second half of the line designates “rites, ritual regulations” (CAD S, 78). Although it may take a third person pronominal suffix at times, this instance in Ludlul is the only case to my knowledge where it has a first person pronominal suffix. This distinctive usage signifies, in my opinion, that sacrifice was more than a rite the sufferer did; rather, the rite was important to his religious identity (thus, “my rule”). The line as a whole, therefore, seems to indicate that the sufferer attached personal importance to his


The day to fear the gods was a delight to my heart, The day of the goddess’ procession was wealth and weal. The king’s prayer: it was a pleasure, And his fanfare was truly a delight. I taught my land to observe the rites of the god, I instructed my people to revere the name of the goddess. I made my praises of the king like a god’s, And taught the masses fear for the palace.”

Clearly, the ritual acts listed in the incantation-prayers – which are themselves quite varied – and those listed here from Ludlul do not share a significant amount of vo-cabulary. But in terms of describing the general theme of ritual acts, the two are quite in agreement.

Mayer’s analysis shows that after the mention of some ritual acts there may also be requests for the deity to come alongside and accept the supplicant’s offering, which may or may not have been explicitly described before such a request. A few examples from the incantation-prayers are:

qīšta leqê, “accept the gift” ilūtka limḫur, “may your divinity accept” akul akalšu ( . . . ) šiti šikaršu, “eat his food ( . . . ) drink his beer”84

Although II 33–38 have various functions in the poem (e.g., they hark back to the expression of Marduk’s inscrutable will mentioned in the opening hymn, I 29–32), I think they can also be viewed as corresponding to this feature of incantation-prayers generally. However, instead of wishing the gods to accept his ritual practices, Shub-shi-meshre-Shakkan expresses doubt that his acts could garner divine approval. Thus, again, we see a structural feature appropriated into the poem but filled with content that significantly differs from what is used in incantation-prayers. The lines read:

lū īdi kî itti ili itamgur annâti ša damqat ramānūš ana ili gullultu ša ina libbīšu mussukat eli ilīšu damqat ayy ṭēm ilī qereb šamê ilammad milik ša anzanunzê iḫakkim mannu ēkâma ilmadā alakti ilī apâti

“Would that I knew these things were acceptable (magāru)85 to the god! That which is good to oneself may be a sacrilege to the god, That which is wretched to one’s heart may be good to one’s god.

piety. We may even say that this manner of presentation shows his piety as heartfelt. Compare the CAD’s rendering of the line, with which I agree in substance: “to me prayer was the proper attitude, sacrifice was my rule of conduct” (CAD S, 79). 84 See Mayer, 1976: 158–161 for these examples. 85 Magāru is frequently used in speaking of the acceptance of a ritual-prayer. See CAD M/1, 38–39 generally and Mayer, 1976: 218 for the verb in incantation-prayer petitions.


Who can learn the plan of the gods in the heavens? Who understands the counsel of the deep? Where did humanity learn the divine decree of the gods?”

This modulation into the key of doubt is precisely what we should expect. The suf-ferer consulted the ritual experts for assistance to no effect (and will do so again with the same results at the end of Tablet II). His suffering does not jibe with his perception of his own personal piety. Thus, his situation is inexplicable both offi-cially and existentially. Doubts about the efficacy of his piety and the concern of the gods are in order. And these doubts are the perfect introduction for the sufferer’s renewed lamentation that take up the topics of the vagaries of the human condition (II 39–48) and the protagonist’s divinely-induced, physical suffering (II 49–120), both of which were discussed above. We come then to Tablet III.

1.6. Petition(s Granted)

Ludlul Tablet III may be considered the tablet of reversal. The sufferer receives divine visitation in a series of dreams and experiences the reversal of his physical afflictions. Due to these events, we find no petitioning of the deity for relief in Lud-lul.86 Although this absence contrasts sharply with the incantation-prayers, it is not an insuperable problem for our comparative project since we expect to find differ-ences, especially since it has been clear from the start that the poem is not an incan-tation-prayer. Moreover, when other structural features from incantation-prayers were compared to Ludlul, we noted that the content of the structural feature was

86 One may wish to see I 115–118, II 4–5, and/or II 33 as petitions. But these are part of the protagonist’s lament. He laments that the gods were not responding to his inquiries (I 115–118), that his personal deities had abandoned him (II 4–5), and that he was no longer sure about what the gods wanted of him (II 33). The broken texts in III 17 [šu]tabrâm-ma, “[reve]al yourself to me(?)” (see below for a note on this), and III 35, qibâ aḫulapī ( . . . ), “speak my deliverance ( . . . )”, are probably the closest we come to petitions in Ludlul, though neither are directed at Marduk. (On the latter in incantation-prayers, see Mayer, 1976: 228.) Rather, Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan speaks them to a divine being who has arrived in his dreams of recovery and healing. Thus, both seem to be directed at the wrong divine being and too late in the sequence of events – his recovery was underway – to be considered parallel to the petitions in incantation-prayers.

The restoration in III 17 deserves comment. In his translation, von Soden (1990: 127, n.17a)) restores [šu-ta]b-ram-ma and translates “Harre aus”. Lambert’s copy (1996: plate 74) shows the TAB sign and part of the head of a far right vertical wedge, thus making ŠU a possibility. Collation of the original tablet (VAT 11179 = MS dd in SAACT 7) that bears witness to this line – one of two such tablets and the only one to preserve part of the initial verb – shows Lambert’s copy to be accurate. Thus, the transliteration should read [šu]-tab-ram-ma (or [šu]-tab-ram-ma). I understand this as a Št lexical imperative of barû plus a 1cs dative suffix. This form is not attested elsewhere as far as I know. But the sense fits. In mo-ments of anthropomorphic theophany – well-known in biblical materials – humans frequently request more information from a (semi-)divine being (e.g., their name, whose side they are on, etc.). I am assuming such an idea is operative here as well.


usually adapted to the sufferer’s situation. Thus, instead of asking that his ritual acts be accepted as would have been the case in incantation-prayers, for example, the sufferer questioned whether his acts would curry the deity’s favor. Given this ten-dency to modulate content, we might be warranted to consider the lengthy descrip-tion of the sufferer’s recovery as an adaptation of the petition section of the incanta-tion-prayers. That is, rather than requesting the deity’s assistance in the form of petitions, as would be expected after such a lengthy lamentation, the sufferer de-scribes – from his post-recovery, retrospective position – how in fact the deity as-sisted him. In other words, the reversal we see in Ludlul Tablets III and (parts of) IV might be usefully understood as the supplicant’s petitions granted.87 This view is made initially plausible by the vocabulary in the dream sequence of III 9–46, which resonates strongly with the lexicon of petition in incantation-prayers. After a close look at that material, I will consider the use of incantation-prayer language as well as the reversal of the laments in Tablets I and II to argue that Tablet III and parts of Tablet IV may be usefully viewed as “petitions granted”.

The opening of Tablet III sums up the sufferers lamentable situation (III 1–8) and then moves on to describe Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan’s three dreams of deliver-ance (III 9–46). In the context of the poem, the dream sequence as a whole might be viewed as a positive response to the sufferer’s lament in I 54, “my dream was terri-fying” (šuttī pardat). Moreover, the dreams can be considered the answer to an un-stated petition.88

After a brief description of the figure in the first dream (III 9–12), the text says the figure “entered and stood over” ([īr]ub-ma ittaziz e[lī]ya) the sufferer, who was lying down in bed (implied in III 11). The incantation-prayers frequently attest the petition for a deity to stand near the petitioner – a desire for divine presence.89 In fact, this petition “to stand” is often the first one from supplicants in incantation-prayers, which shows that it serves as a transition from the previous section of the prayer to the petition section proper.90 It therefore seems significant that this verb appears at the start here in the first dream.

Several other lexical items in the first dream resonate with the vocabulary of pe-tition found in incantation-prayers. Soon after the first figure arrives, he speaks to the sufferer, announcing that he had been sent by “your lord”, who must be none other

87 Lambert suggested that “[a]t the point where, if Ludlul were an incantation, the prescrip-tions for the ritual would be found, the dreams occur in which the ritual is performed and an incantation priest presents himself” (1996: 27). This is an interesting structural perspective on the dream sequence in Ludlul III. But, contrary to my previous judgment on the matter (Lenzi, 2012: 62, n.97), I think it is more useful to compare the dreams in terms of structural place-ment and content as a response to the kinds of petitions one finds in incantation-prayers. 88 The request for a favorable dream occurs among petitions in incantation-prayers. See Mayer, 1976: 279–280. For another perspective on the role of these dreams in the poem, see Lenzi, 2012: 54–62. 89 See Mayer, 1976: 211–213. See also the petition for other benevolent powers to stand with the petitioner (Mayer, 1976: 246–247). 90 See Mayer, 1976: 212.


than Marduk (III 15, [iqbī]-ma bēl[k]a išpura[nni]).91 The verbs qabû and šapāru strongly resonate with incantation-prayer petitions, in which the supplicant often asks the deity to speak (qabû) in some way to their benefit92 and to send some entity to help in their deliverance (šapāru).93 The verbs iqūlū, “they heeded”,94 and išmû-ninni, “they listened to me”, in the still laconic lines 19 and 20, respectively, also occur in incantation-prayer petitions that concern themselves with gaining the atten-tion of the deity to whom the prayer is directed.95

In the second and third dreams, the language of petition from incantation-prayers is activated again in several ways. In the second dream, there are two examples (alongside the sending in III 26): the mention of purification (ubbubu)96 and the pronouncement of the incantation of life (balāṭu) in III 26–28. The latter is a very common general request in incantation-prayers.97 There are at least two examples in the third dream as well (alongside the sending in III 43): the ordering of the suf-ferer’s deliverance (iqbī-ma aḫulapī, “she spoke my deliverance” in III 37)98 and the entrusting (paqādu) of the sufferer into the hands of Ur-nintinugga, the dream-con-jurer who was caring for him (ana muttabbilīya qātuššu ipq[id], “he entrusted me into the hands of my ministrant” in III 46).99

The same language of petition, modulated to show its fulfillment, occurs in the material that immediately follows the dreams (III 47–55). In III 48 Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan mentions the revelation of “his favorable sign” (ittuš damqatu), which is found among incantation-prayer petitions.100 And every line in III 51–55 reflects the language of petition:

ultu ša bēlīya libbašu i[nūḫu] ša Marduk rēmnî kabatta[šu] ipp[ašru] [ilqû] unninnīya [ . . . ] nasḫuršu ṭābu [ . . . ] [iqbi] aḫulapī ( . . . ) “After the heart of my lord was stil[led] (nâḫu), the min[d of] merciful Marduk was app[eased] (pašāru),101 after [he accept]ed my prayer [ . . . ] (unninna leqû),102

91 See Lenzi, 2012: 43, n.18 for the ramifications of this interpretation. 92 Speaking is used in petitions for mercy (aḫulap qabû), for favor (damiqta qabû), and for the intercession of another divine being (various constructions with qabû). See Mayer, 1976: 226, 229, and 232–234, respectively. 93 See Mayer, 1976: 236–239. See also III 26 and III 34. 94 This translation revises my earlier “they were silent” in SAACT 7: 38. 95 See Mayer, 1976: 215–217. 96 For this language in the incantation-prayers, see Mayer, 1976: 255–257. 97 Mayer, 1976: 280–281. 98 For this language in the incantation-prayers, see Mayer, 1976: 226. 99 For this language in the incantation-prayers, see Mayer, 1976: 235. 100 Mayer, 1976: 279–280. 101 See Mayer, 1976: 240–241 (both nâḫu and pašāru). 102 See Mayer, 1976: 217.


his [bene]volent attention was sweet [ . . . ] (nasḫuru),103 [he spoke] my deliverance (aḫulap qabû)104 ( . . . ).”

After a few broken lines, three of which contain words in the semantic domain of “sin” (III 58–60), the sufferer mentions in III 61 that Marduk had removed his sin (egâtīya ušābil šāru, “he caused the wind to carry off my acts of negligence”). And after several more broken or lost lines, he introduces in III 68 the reversal of the lamentation in II 51–57 (compare III 69–75) with the following words: [uṭ]ṭeḫḫam-ma tâšu ša ušessû lum[nu], “[he a]pplied (lit. he brought near to me) his spell, which drives away ev[il]”. The former statement about sin (III 61) does not show explicit lexical connections with the petitions of incantation-prayers treated by Mayer (as far as I can determine). But the release from sin is an attested theme in some petitions, even if a minor one.105 The two verbs in the latter statement about the driving away of evil by way of Marduk’s effective incantation reflect the formulaic language of a couple of negative petitions in incantation-prayers, namely, ay-iṭḫâ / lā iṭeḫḫâ, “may it not draw near / it shall not draw near”, and ina zumrīya lissī-ma, “may it withdraw / be distant from my body”.106 The use of ṭeḫû and nesû in Ludlul III 68, I suggest, turns the formulaic petition around (i.e., answers it), stating that it is the drawing near (ṭeḫû) of Marduk’s incantation that dispels (“causes to withdraw, be distant”, Š of nesû) evil.

With the statement in III 68, the poem begins a litany in which the protagonist recounts how Marduk restored his body to health. This section reverses the lamenta-tion in Tablet II 49ff. in essence. This intent is clearly signaled by the very close parallel between III 68–75 and II 51–57: the demonically-inspired things about which the sufferer once lamented are the things from which he has now been deliv-ered. This deliverance is the exact opposite of petition.

The description of deliverance (and thus fulfillment of petition) continues in III 76f. Though the language in this passage does not always parallel II 58–105 closely, the two are comparable in that they both deal with physical ailments: the ailments’ onset through demonic activity in Tablet II and their removal through Marduk’s merciful application of his efficacious incantation in Tablet III. There are, however, a few parallels in the material that suggest the broad intent in Tablet III is to record the reversal of the sufferer’s laments in Tablet II – while not being enslaved to the precise wording in Tablet II. Note the following:

• III 76–77 deals with the sending away of unpleasant sleep, which is explicitly

103 Nasḫuru, literally, “turning”, is recognized as a substantive in the lexica (see CAD N/2, 25–26, CDA, 243, and AHw, 754), but it is clearly derived from the N of saḫāru, which is commonly used in incantation-prayer petitions (Mayer, 1976: 242). 104 Mayer, 1976: 226. 105 Mayer, 1976: 115–118. Note the use of the related tabālu in a couple of petitions (117–118). The idiom šāru x litbal, “may the wind carry off x”, in Ludlul is also used a couple of times in eršaḫunga-prayers. See Maul, 1988: 240: 41–42 and 321: 5–6. 106 Mayer, 1976: 265–269.


mentioned earlier in II 72 (“sleep covered me like a net”).107 • III 78–79 mentions “woe” (ū¬a), which is likewise mentioned earlier in II 83.108 • The un-blurred eyes and un-clogged ears mentioned in III 82–85 may reverse the

protagonist’s problems with his eyes and ears mentioned in II 73–74. • The release of the sufferer’s lips and mouth, described in III 88–91 (see also III 95b), reverses the trap and bolt laid upon them in II 84–85. • The healing brought to the sufferer’s teeth, tongue, throat (ur¬udu occurs in both

II 87 and III 96), and gullet in III 92–99 and belly in III lines a–b would have allowed him to eat, reversing his lament about inability to eat and drink in II 86–89.

• The strengthening of the sufferer’s neck in III lines c–d reverses the pains described in II 61. • The impotence (lu¬tu)109 of the sufferer’s “loins” (birkū) mentioned in II 78 may be reversed in III line h, which mentions birkīya in a fragmentary line. There are also parallels between the reversal in Tablet III and the lament material in Tablet I. • The removal of fear from the sufferer’s lips in III 89,110 reverses the apprehen-

sion described in I 74 and 111–113. • Tablet III line k mentions the restoration of the sufferer’s “manliness / masculine features” (dūtu ummultu,111 “overshadowed manliness”), which is described earlier in I 47 as “obscured” (ūtammil). • Tablet III line o describes the protagonist walking about the streets of Babylon positively, which contrasts his lamentable street situation in I 80 (as well as his immobility in II 79). Something else worthy of note in Tablet III 69ff. when viewed as “answered peti-tions” is the conspicuous use of verbs that appear in incantation-prayer petitions

107 II 72 falls within a larger section (II 68–85) that I believe describes sleep paralysis. (A paper defending this view is in preparation for publication and was presented at the 2013 Baltimore Society of Biblical Literature meeting in the Assyriology and the Bible section.) 108 Admittedly, the speakers are different in each case. The protagonist cries out with “woe” in III 78–79 to the people; the people cry out “woe” after seeing the suffering of the protagonist in II 83. The restoration [u8]-a in II 83 is based on a suggestion from Foster’s translation (2005: 400), which should have been noted in the apparatus to line 83 in the SAACT 7 edition (p. 21). The conjectured orthography is based on the available room on the tablet (MS C) and

the most common spelling of the word (see CAD U/W, 1–3). The one manuscript to which I had access for collation, MS C (one of two that shows some part of this first word – the other being MS l), has room for one large or perhaps two signs. Thus, [u8]-a or conceivably [ù¬-ú]-a, which is what we have in III 78. From what I can see in my photograph, the abraded surface of the tablet does not commend either alternative strongly, though there may be a slight hint of the last four wedges of an U8. 109 Lu¬tu, translated as “debility”, was previously mentioned in II 57 and reversed in III 78. 110 Fear, as already noted, reflects a common lament in incantation-prayers. See Mayer, 1976: 72–73 and the petition cited on pp. 278–279. 111 I derive the adjective from the root wamālu, “to be veil, covered” (see CDA, 433).


dealing with the removal of evil or evil signs:112 duppuru in III 69, kašādu in III 70, târu in III 72, sakāpu in III 73, maḫāru in III 74, nasāḫu in III 75, rêqu (Š) in III 77, which semantically reflects lā ṭeḫû and lā qerēbu, tebû in III 79 and 83, nasāḫu and nesû in III 81, tabālu in III 85, pašāḫu in III 87, and paṭāru in III 89. Similar verbs and a few others denoting rescue also occur in the opening lines of Tablet IV (1–11): puššuḫu (IV 1), puṭṭuru (IV 3), bulluṭu (IV 4), ekēmu (IV 5), esēpu (IV 6), dekû (IV 7), šadādu (IV 8), qātī ṣabātu (IV 9, which reverses the complaint about the per-sonal god in II 112), rēšī šuqqu (IV 11, which reverses the complaint about the per-sonal goddess in II 5).

As the last paragraph indicated, “answered petitions” continue into Tablet IV. Incantation-prayers dealing with witchcraft sometimes use a theme of turning the evil intended for the supplicant back upon the one afflicting him. At the most general level, one finds a petition that runs as follows: šū limūt-ma anāku libluṭ, “may he die, but I live!”113 Although witchcraft does not explicitly occur in Ludlul as far as I can determine, this general theme (though not the vocabulary used in incantation-prayers) of turning evil back upon the evil doer occurs in three couplets in Tablet IV 12–17, the first and third of which are the clearest.114 In the first (IV 12–13), Marduk strikes (imḫaṣ) the hand of the striker (māḫiṣu). In the second (IV 14–15), he muz-zles the mouth of a lion eating (ākilu) the sufferer. And in the third, (IV 16–17), he snatched the pursuer’s sling and turned back (usaḫḫir) his sling stone.

After a break and some newly recovered but unclear lines, we find the supplicant performing a few ritual acts (IV 34–37, see below) and then entering twelve gates in the vicinity of Marduk’s Esagil (IV 38–50), where he obtains something beneficial to his recovery. The description of the benefits that he receives resonates strongly with the language of petition in incantation-prayers: ḫegallu, “prosperity” (IV 39), lamassu, “divine guardian” (IV 40), šulmānu, “well-being” (IV 41), balāṭu, “life” (IV 42), ina balṭūti, “among the living” (IV 43),115 iddātūya immerā, “my signs be-came clear” (IV 44),116 e¬iltī ippaṭir, “my bond was released” (IV 45),117 ištāla pîya, “my mouth inquired” (IV 46, which may imply an effective oracular or petitionary request, though the precise meaning is still unclear to me),118 sighing “was released”, uptaṭṭara (IV 47),119 and tēlilte, “purification” (IV 48).120 The events that unfold at

112 See Mayer, 1976: 257–280. 113 See Mayer, 1976: 274–275. For a couple of other examples (many could be cited), see Abusch/Schwemer, 2011: 262 (transliteration), 266–267 (transcription and translation); 279–280 (transliteration), 287 (transcription and translation). 114 These lines are introduced rather ironically, since the same deity who turned back the sufferer’s oppressors also caused both the sufferer’s pain as well as his deliverance (IV 10–11). 115 The first five revolve around issues of life, prosperity, luck, and welfare. See Mayer, 1976: 280–283, 287–289. On lamassu in petitions, see also pp. 244–247. 116 See Mayer, 1976: 278–279. 117 See Mayer, 1976: 115–118. 118 Supplicants in incantation-prayers often want their words to be heard and responded to (Mayer, 1976: 216–218). 119 The verb occurs in a number of different kinds of petitions, including the release of divine


the final two gates (IV 49–50) should be understood as the climactic point in the passage, since it is here that the sufferer experiences the divine presence that he has lacked up to this point. This, one might suggest, reflects supplicants’ common request for the abolition of estrangement and enmity between the deity and himself in incantation-prayers.121

The items the sufferer receives at each gate also contribute to the reversal of the sufferer’s laments in Tablet I and II. He received a divine guardian in IV 40 (com-pare I 46). He was granted well-being and life in IV 41–43, which reverse much of the language of lament in Tablets I and II. His signs became clear and his inquiries did not go unheeded(?) at the gates in IV 44 and 46 (compare I 49, I 115–118, II 6–9, and II 108–111). His sins were forgiven in IV 45 (which may have lain at the root of Marduk’s anger, see I 23–24 and I 41–42). His sighing (tānīḫu) was released in IV 47 (compare II 95, and see I 105 [šutānuḫu]). In IV 48 he was sprinkled with pure water, preparing him for the divine presence (compare II 12–22), which he experiences in IV 49–50 (and had lacked since the very beginning of his lamenta-tion).

IV 34–38 and 51–66 frame the gates section and present a positive reprise of the sufferer’s negative “turning” and ritual activities noted earlier in the lamentation sections of the poem (Tablets I and II). Although a few of these activities are some-what unclear due to the break at line 61 and the fragmentary lines in 34–37, 65–66, I think we are warranted in viewing them in general as a positive answer to (and thus a reversal of) the sufferer’s earlier frustration for and cynicism about the ritual sys-tem (see II 1–38). That is, they should be viewed as part of the sufferer’s ritual thanksgiving. The positive reception of the sufferer’s food and drink offerings in IV 57–58 by the protective spirit and divine guardian of Esagil provides a clue to the effectiveness of the sufferer’s ritual actions. More importantly for our comparative project, however, is the fact that some of the language used in this section of the poem reflects the language of “turning” and ritual action used in the incantation-prayers. The words ana labān appi u utnennu in IV 37122 and ina suppê in IV 51 reflect the language of “turning” in incantation-prayers123 as does the verb erēbu in IV 38.124 Ritual language shared with incantation-prayers includes the sufferer’s incense (qutrinnu) he offered in IV 52, his offering (ušamḫir) of various gifts in IV 53, his slaughter (uṭṭabbiḫ) of some kind of animal in IV 54 (šapṭu, “prime sheep”?), his continual pouring out (naqû, Gtn) of beer and wine, and his sprinkling about (salāḫu and lupputu ≈ sarāqu in the incantation-prayers) of various food items in IV 61 and 66.125

anger and other evils (Mayer, 1976: 240–242, 260–261). 120 Mayer, 1976: 255–257 for the theme generally and the cognate verb elēlu in petitions. 121 See Mayer, 1976: 239–243. 122 The hearing of the sufferer’s prayer in IV 36 also recalls the language of petition in incantation-prayers, of course. See Mayer, 1976: 216. 123 Mayer, 1976: 142 and 132. 124 See Mayer, 1976: 112, 139. This verb is only found with shigu-prayers. 125 See Mayer, 1976: 150–158 for the language of ritual acts in the incantation-prayers.


The sufferer’s passage through the different gates and his ritual activities at the temple may also be viewed as part of the sufferer’s reintegration into his commu-nity, from which he was previously alienated – again, reversal of lament functions as petition granted. This is probably supported in the hint about a feast for the citizens of Babylon in IV 65 and most certainly supported in the words of praise put in the mouths of the people in IV 69–76. The latter words reverse the reproach and anger the sufferer’s community had previously cast upon him (see I 80–83 for their collec-tive opinion) and begin what I have called the concluding praise of the poem, dis-cussed earlier.

2. Interpreting the comparison within and beyond Mesopotamia

2.1. Within Mesopotamia

As mentioned in the introduction to this essay, scholars believe Ludlul was produced within the ranks of the conjurers, for whom the incantation-prayer was a central genre in the fulfillment of their professional duties. Given this, the results of the above literary comparison are not very surprising; indeed, one might be tempted to consider them simply as providing confirmation and documentation for what schol-ars had already suspected. Of course conjurers used incantation-prayers in their literary endeavors!126 We could content ourselves in the fact that the above results have moved a suspicion onto the firmer ground of evidence. And this is indeed grati-fying. But the results of this study may contribute more if we step back and scruti-nize them against the broader context of Mesopotamian literary production.

First, we must recall that the literary structure and content of the incantation-prayer genre was adapted rather than simply adopted at several points in Ludlul. The poem begins and ends with praise. But this praise was adjusted to reflect the poem’s circumstance of thanksgiving rather than the circumstances of incantation prayers, namely, the offering of praise to prepare for petition. The self-presentation was more subtle than incantation-prayers and included a description of the abandonment of the personal gods rather than simply their identification. The lament material was quite comparable to incantation-prayers but far exceeded anything found in them in terms of the length and severity of lamentation. The material in Ludlul that I compared to the “turning” and the ritual actions described in incantation-prayers turned these elements on their heads, despite thematic and lexical connections with the incanta-tion-prayers. The sufferer “turned” but not to the deity; he described ritually appro-priate actions but doubted their efficacy (rather than asking for their acceptance). The incantation-prayers’ element of petition, lacking in Ludlul, is reflected in the poem as though the petitions were implicitly granted and as though they were the reversal of the laments uttered earlier. And finally, Ludlul’s whole chronological framework is retrospective, quite unlike the prospective stance of incantation-pray-ers. So we see many structural similarities between Ludlul and the structural ele-

126 If the poem had arisen among kalû, “lamenters”, then Akkadian translations of eršaḫunga’s or eršemma’s may have been deemed fitting to use.


ments of the incantation-prayer genre. But each element incorporated into the text of Ludlul has also been modified in some way. I would suggest that it is precisely in the way that Ludlul has adapted the incantation-prayer genre to a new circumstance that we see much of the significance of our literary comparative results. They provide another perspective on Mesopotamian novel (as in new) literary production via in-corporation and transformation of older, well-known material.127

Transformation by incorporation is not uncommon in Mesopotamian literary history. In fact, it may be a hallmark of literary creativity in Mesopotamian belles-lettres, especially in the post-Old Babylonian periods.128 Perhaps the best known example is the incorporation of the flood story from (some version of) Atram-ḫasīs into Tablet XI of the Standard Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh. Although an older story was essentially taken from one context and adapted into another – sometimes showing word for word correspondences, the new (epic) context transformed the purpose of the old flood story, making it something entirely different from what it had previously been (an Old Babylonian myth) in its oldest known context.129 This process of incorporation and transformation of the old flood story produces a novel literary result (that is, it transforms the literary horizons of the text incorporating the older material): Gilgamesh, ready to take immortality from Uta-napishti by force, is stopped in his tracks by the appearance of an old man, armed with nothing more than an arcane story – which also provides, as we learn in the story itself, the reason that Gilgamesh’s personal quest is futile.

Elnathan Weissert has noticed a rather different, more subtle example of a spe-cific text being used in a later one with a transformative result. Weissert finds five literary allusions to Enūma eliš in Sennacherib’s account of the battle at Halule as it is attested in the Chicago Prism. “[T]heir role within the account of the events”, he believes, “suggest[s] that Sennacherib’s scribe consciously referred to this composi-tion in order to enhance his anti-Babylonian propaganda”.130 More specifically, to quote a heading in his paper, the allusions are “a means to transfiguring the battle’s reality into mythic spheres”, creating a homology between the Assyrian enemy and Tiamat’s demonic horde, whose complete destruction (and thus the Assyrian en-emy’s destruction) is imperative. Weissert finds no explicit citation in the text of the campaign; rather, a few words merely provide hints to the reader that another text is being appropriated in the context to generate the desired literary result. In this case, the old myth is transformed into history, and history into myth.

A final example will bring us back to our literary comparison between incanta-tion-prayers and Ludul. The so-called Aluzinnu-text draws upon scholarly and liter-

127 Lest I be understood as suggesting my observations as somehow the hermeneutical key to the entire poem, this particular instance of intertexutality that I have established is but one example of Ludlul’s adaptation of older material to create something new. 128 See Foster’s treatment of “intertextuality”, very broadly construed in Foster, 2005: 22–26 and his briefer treatment of “allusions and quotations of Akkadian literature” in 2007: 113–114. 129 See George, 2003: 18. 130 Weissert, 1997: 192.


ary language – from genres such as god-list, royal inscription, and menology – with parody and mockery as the end goals.131 In this case the text uses neither a block of material nor phrasing/wording from one specific text that is re-contextualized in a new literary context. Rather, the author of the Aluzinnu-text creates signals to the reader that intend to bring whole formulaic genres to mind. The author purposefully deploys these in the new literary context for a quite different purpose from those of the original, rather serious genres, namely, parody and mockery.

Unlike the author of the Epic of Gilgamesh, who borrowed the flood account from an earlier source and re-contextualized it to effect a literary transformation, the authors of Sennacherib’s eighth campaign, the Aluzinnu-text, and Ludlul – to invoke the technical terminology of literary criticism – allude to specific texts or genres and thereby create a specific kind of intertextuality that achieves their literary transfor-mations.132 Allusions in such literary texts are generally understood to be intentional acts of the author.133 The allusion to earlier material occurs by way of specific mark-ers (i.e., words, phrases, themes, typical forms, etc.)134 in the alluding text and in-tends to bring about some rhetorically desired effect in the literary context in which the allusion is used.135 What then is the desired effect of alluding to the incantation-

131 See Veldhuis, 2003: 23–27. The text is also known as “The Jester” in Foster, 2005: 939–941. 132 Weissert discusses intertextuality and the definition of allusion briefly in the opening remarks of his article (1997: 192, noting some literature). A fuller, more recent treatment of intertexuality and allusion, which also includes a rich interaction with the secondary literature in Assyriology, Biblical Studies, and Literary Criticism is Hays, 2008. Although primarily concerned with the methodological issues of identifying allusions to non-biblical, ancient Near Eastern texts within the text of the Hebrew Bible, the overview and conclusions are easily and usefully adapted to intra-Mesopotamian intertextuality. Moreover, Hays, harking back to Julia Kristeva, an early theorist of intertextuality, ably defends the historical uses of intertextuality for historically-oriented scholars (such as are most Assyriologists and Bibli-cists). Mettinger, 1993, although older, is another useful resource for an entrée into the litera-ture of intertextuality. Finally, I have found Sommer, 1998: 6–20 an extremely useful exposi-tion of the differences between the broader category of intertextuality and the narrower ideas of influence, allusion, echo, and exegesis. Sommer builds on the work of Ben-Porat, 1976, which also informs Weissert’s work (1997: 192, n.8). 133 Making a plausible case for authorial intent to allude to another text is very difficult (to say nothing of making a case for absolute certainty; see the caveats and cautions of Hays, 2008: 34, 42–43). I therefore do not deny the possibility that the author of Ludlul may have been unconsciously affected by important texts within his (i.e., the conjurer’s) profession (incanta-tion-prayers) because he was so completely immersed in that material. As Moshe Seidel, in a discussion of parallels between biblical books (1955–1956: 149), explains: “(t)he words a person reads and hears and repeats become his own, enter his verbal storehouse. When needed they become, even if he does not know it, the clothing for the thoughts to which he gives birth” ( הדברים שאדם קורא ושומע וחוזר עליהם נעשים קנינו, נכנסים לאוצרו, ובשעת הצורך הם נעשם, גם the translation is Sommer’s [1998: 208, n.17]). But ;שלא מדעתו, לבוש למחשבה המתחוללת בקרבו.in light of the extensive use of the general form, themes, and language of incantation-prayers in Ludlul I think it is highly probable that their use was deliberate. 134 See Sommer, 2008: 11–12 for a brief review of what may constitute such a marker. 135 Despite differences in terminology and favored theorists, all of the authors cited in foot-


prayer genre in Ludlul? I think the answer may lie in an idea I will call “proleptic thanksgiving”. It is

clear from lines such as I 39 and III line p136 that Ludlul intends to take an exhorta-tional and pedagogic tone with its audience.

I 39: lušalmid-ma nišī qitruba gumālšin “I will teach the people their plea for favor is near.”

III p: [ša] ana Esagil egû ina qātīya līmur “Let the one who was negligent of Esagil learn from my example.”

Its intention, I believe, is to offer a generalization about the way humans ought to respond to their suffering. Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan, the poem seems to suggest, could be anyone. His story could be anyone’s story, including those still suffering. If this is accepted, than one might ask: What better way to commend a text of thanks-giving to those still suffering than to present the thanksgiving in the form of and to fill it with allusions to the themes and language of an incantation-prayer, the very kind of prayer a suffering person would recite to regain wholeness? In other words, just as the Aluzinnu-text transformed entire genres for parody and mockery Ludlul has re-purposed the incantation-prayer for thanksgiving. As pointed out above, the first word of the text of thanksgiving, ludlul, is the last word of many incantation-prayers. Ludlul (the poem) picks up where these prayers left off and commends itself as proleptic thanksgiving, a text to be appropriated by its audience as a kind of vi-carious thanksgiving offered in advance because, although Marduk is angry at night, he is relenting at daybreak (I 2) and the people’s “plea for favor is near” (I 39). Like Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan, one need only be patient.

I think this interpretation finds a hint of support in the letter SAA 10 294, affec-tionately known as “The Forlorn Scholar”.137 An Assyrian scholar named Urad-Gula includes an allusion to Ludlul (along with several other literary allusions) in his appeal for Ashurbanipal to remedy the man’s miserable living situation. In so doing, Urad-Gula creates homologies between Ashurbanipal and Marduk and between himself and Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan.138 In other words, his allusion suggests that the writer of the letter has understood Ludlul as an appropriate text to invoke in his own supplication (even if “secular”) directed at the king.

note 132 agree on this point. If we accept that the author of Ludlul deliberately alluded to incantation-prayers, we need not accept that this meant he did so with an explicit understand-ing of the form of the prayer (as I have worked from) or that he was self-conscious about the process. Even if the decision to allude to the form, themes, and language of the incantation-prayers was deliberate, the actual process of doing so may have been organic and intuitive. 136 Very probably IV 113–120 should be included here, too, though still somewhat fragmen-tary. 137 See Parpola, 1987. 138 See Hurowitz, 2002–2005: 129–132 for the identification of the allusion and its signifi-cance within the letter.


2.2. Beyond Mesopotamia

Now that we have a good foundation for understanding the purpose of alluding to the form and language of incantation-prayers in Ludlul within the context of Meso-potamia, I want to broaden the perspective to look at other texts from the ancient Near East that are broadly concerned with human hardship, suffering, and restora-tion. I begin with a comparison to individual psalms of thanksgiving in the Hebrew Psalter since Ludlul, like such psalms, is ultimately about giving thanks for an ad-versity that the protagonist had survived. After this, ideally, I would turn to consider texts that are thematically similar to Ludlul and also extensively use the language of prayer. Given the fact, however, that I have already pushed the constraints of space here, I have chosen only one text from the biblical tradition to discuss briefly, the Book of Job.

Form critical studies have shown that individual psalms of thanksgiving in the biblical tradition invariably contain a brief narrative that includes the recounting of the past distress from which the celebrant has been delivered.139 In other words, within the psalms of thanksgiving there is a reflection, even if quite brief and gen-eral, of the celebrant’s earlier lamentation. As Gunkel explains it, “[t]he particular content of the thanksgiving song is the great change which has now occurred for the one offering thanks. Just as he (sic, etc.) had been in deadly distress and anxiety, already close to the portals of the underworld, now he again sees the golden light. Just as he had been repudiated and slandered, he is now the center of the beautiful festival” of thanksgiving. “The narrative of the thanksgiving song presents this change”.140 We need not follow all of the form critical conclusions to agree that, structurally speaking, the individual psalms of thanksgiving include a retrospective account of past misery intended to amplify the celebrant’s praise of the delivering deity by way of contrast – “I was once lost, but now I’m found. Praise my god!”

This feature of the individual psalms of thanksgiving is paralleled in our literary conclusions about Ludlul. The extended lamentation in Tablets I and II, the only structural element of the incantation-prayers that was not significantly adjusted for inclusion in the poem, serves precisely the same purpose as the lament in the He-brew individual psalm of thanksgiving. One cannot fully understand the joyful praise Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan bestows upon Marduk without also understanding the wretched situation the poor man endured.

But our literary results would suggest there is more to our findings than this, since all of the structural features of the incantation-prayers and its formulaic lan-guage – not just the lamentation element – resonate throughout the entire text of

139 See Gunkel, 1998: 201–205 and Westermann, 1965: 103, 109–110. Gunkel (197) identifies the following psalms and other biblical texts as belonging to the genre: Pss 18, 30, 32, 34, 40:2–12, 41, 66, 92, (100), (107), 116, 118, 138; Isa 38:10–20; Job 33:26–28; Jonah 2:3–10; Sir 51; Pss. Sol. 15, 16; Odes Sol. 25, 29; this may be compared to Westermann’s (102, n.55) slightly different list: Pss 18, 30, 34, 40:1–12, 52, 66:13–20, 107, 116, 118, 138; Jonah 2:2–9; Lam 3:52–58; Job 33:26–28; Sir 51; Pss. Sol. 15:1–6, 16:1–15; Add Dan 1:65; Odes Sol. 25, 29, (9:2–11, mixed form). 140 Gunkel, 1998: 202.


Ludlul. I turn then to the biblical Book of Job, which may help us interpret this char-acteristic of Ludlul.

Thematically, there is no question that the Book of Job is similar to Ludlul, and thus the two are profitably compared and mutually illuminating. In the present com-parison, I look to the biblical composition to illumine my findings of the Babylonian poem – the exact opposite of what one normally finds in scholarship.141 Scholars have long recognized that the Book of Job has affinities with the canonical Hebrew psalms of individual laments. This is especially evident in Job’s speeches to his friends.142 But Claus Westermann goes beyond earlier critical studies to suggest that the constituent characters, themes, and structure of the psalms of individual lament permeate the book of Job. Recognizing this, he contends, is an important key to a proper understanding of the book. According to Westermann, Job is not ulti-mately about the question of suffering abstractly considered but about the righteous devotee’s existential plight that has arisen in the midst of suffering, which may seem (or, in fact, be) divinely-disregarded, allowed, or imposed.

The elements of the lament genre, however, are not simply taken over into the Book of Job in a slavish fashion. Rather, the poet adopts and then adapts the various stereotypical elements in the genre to create what Westermann calls a literary drama, which depicts a specific event in the life of a particular individual - an individual Westermann understands in a literary rather than historical sense.143 Although some have taken issue with his idea that Job’s genre is a dramatized lament, his ideas have presented an important corrective in form critical studies on Job.144 Westermann demonstrates the interrelationship between the Book of Job and the individual la-ments in a small monograph. Due to our limited space here, a few examples of his ideas will serve as representatives.

1. Just as individual laments have three main parties involved (the supplicant, their enemies, and the deity) so too does Job, where the friends – and the deity him-self! – stand in for the enemies in the individual lament genre.145

2. Various themes from the individual lament genre also appear in the Book of Job: expressions of divine abandonment, protestations of innocence, avowals of trust, petitions, the fate of the wicked, and even praise for the deity. Each of these shows a distinctive development in the Book of Job,146 but the last two themes

141 See, for example, Lenzi, 2012. Of course, there is nothing wrong with using Mesopota-mian literature to illumine biblical literature. See Lenzi, 2013a for an overview and examples. 142 See, e.g., Gunkel, 1998: 121 and note the extensive parallels found by Baumgärtel, 1933, which are discussed and critiqued by Westermann, 1965: 34–37 143 See Westermann’s summarizing statement (1981: 6). The individual laments in the Psalter, of course, are written rather generically, that is, without specific identifiers of the supplicant. 144 See, e.g., Murphy, 1981: 16–17. A similar idea to Westermann’s, without reference to Westermann’s work, is Mandolfo, 2007: 45–63. 145 Westermann, 1981: 10–12, 41–45. 146 For example, on the avowals of trust in Job 16:19–21 and 19:25–27 Westermann writes, “[w]e have here an avowal of trust at the most extreme limits, a reliance upon God against God” (1981: 102).


are particularly interesting for our purposes. 3. The fate of the wicked as deployed in the friends’ speeches, Westermann sug-

gests, reflects laments about enemies in the individual laments. Unlike the psalms of individual lament, however, this theme is used against Job; he is iden-tified by the friends as the wicked one.147

4. Divine praise also takes on an ironic twist, but in this case the irony is found in Job’s speeches. Job adopts the language of praise in enumerating the deity’s at-tributes and deploys this language to illustrate negative features of the deity’s behavior.148

5. Finally, Westermann sees some structural similarities between the book as a whole and the individual lament genre, though he does not apply this analogy as thoroughly as have I with regard to Ludlul. The clearest example he offers is the structural parallel between the assurance of being heard in the individual lament toward the conclusion of such psalms and the deity’s appearance and speeches to answer Job at the end of the book.149

If Westermann’s general observation that the individual lament genre has influenced the Book of Job is accepted (without necessarily admitting all of the form-critical developmentalism that is attached to this idea or his broad claims about the genre of the book), then we have a rather similar situation as was found in Ludlul.

Ludlul and the Book of Job, despite many differences, are both ultimately iconic narratives that demonstrate the same concept: the proper human response to inscru-table, divine sovereignty.150 Divine sovereignty, of course, is based on a hierarchy in which deities are the unquestioned superiors to humans.151 Thus, gods rule, and people submit to their rule. Both Job and Shubshi-meshre-Shakkan seem to be held up as moral exemplars to their respective communities. They depict how one ought to cope with divine sovereignty, even in the face of suffering; that is, both show how to submit to divinity. The allusions to the traditional, formal language of prayer in each composition, even though neither text is a prayer, indexes the notion of human supplication, one of the most important and permissible responses to divinity availa-ble to people. There is no question that these allusions to the traditional language of prayer attempt to capture the pathos of the protagonists in both compositions. And they serve other distinctive purposes in each. I do not want to be misunderstood as completely flattening out the two texts. Yet both texts choose to infuse their narra-

147 Westermann, 1981: 81–87. 148 For example, the deity’s constant watchfulness is construed as oppressive spying (7:17–21). And his divine powers over creation are seen as being employed to bully (9:5–15). See Westermann, 1981: 72–75. 149 Westermann, 1981: 106. See also Westermann’s more questionable parallel with regard to the asseveration of innocence (1981: 97–99). 150 The history of the interpretation of Job, I think, bears out the iconic designation. My earlier comments on SAA 10 294, the letter called “The Forlorn Scholar”, may support the same for Ludlul. 151 This is, of course, constructed on analogy with the social hierarchy between a king and his subjects. See Lenzi, 2008: 27–64 for an exploration of this idea.


tives rather heavily with supplicatory language (rather than, say, the language of insurrection) to convey the pathos of their protagonists. And this, I suggest, exempli-fies to others and therefore upholds within the community the proper hierarchical order of divine-human relations: the gods rule; people supplicate.152 For everything else that the allusion to the language of prayer may be doing in each of these compo-sitions, it is also maintaining the central premise in each: divine sovereignty.

Abbreviations

AHw: von Soden, W., 1972–1985: Akkadisches Handwörterbuch. 3 Volumes. Wies-baden.

CAD: Oppenheim, A. L. / Reiner, E. / Roth, M., 1956–2010: The Assyrian Diction-ary of the University of Chicago. 26 Volumes. Chicago.

CDA: Black, J. / George, A. / Postgate, N., 1999: A Concise Dictionary of Akkadian. SANTAG 5. Wiesbaden.

K: Tablet from the Kuyunjik Collections in the British Museum. KAR: Ebeling, E., 1915: Keilschrifttexte aus Assur religiösen Inhalts. 2 Volumes.

Wissenschaftliche Veröffentlichung der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft 28, 34. Leipzig.

KUB 4: Weidner, E., 1922: Akkadische Keilschrifttexte. Keilschrifturkunden aus Boghazköi 4. Berlin.

KUB 37: Köcher, F., 1953: Literarische Texte in akkadischer Sprache. Keil-schrifturkunden aus Boghazköi 37. Berlin.

LKA: Ebeling, E., 1953: Literarische Keilschrifttexte aus Assur. With Assistance from F. Köcher and L. Rost. Berlin.

SAA 10: Parpola, S., 1993: Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars. State Archives of Assyria 10. Helsinki.

Sm.: Tablet from the Collections of the British Museum. VAT: Tablet from the Collections of the Staatliche Museen Berlin.

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The Language of Akkadian Prayers in Ludlul Bēl Nēmeqi and its Significance within and beyond...

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