The Deluge: An Analysis of the Archetypal Flood Myth in Gilgamesh and the Bible

"Listen…to a tale which, though strange, is certainly true," wrote Plato (Timaeus, Jowett) before describing one of the great archetypal myths of human history: the Deluge. The Deluge is described in many texts, circumventing time and space, as if more than a mere force a nature, but rather a metaphysical phenomenon engrained in the human psyche. Almost every culture has a Deluge, a massive flood that wipes out civilization, cleaning the slate. "A large percentage of the world's cultures past and present have stories of a 'great flood' that devastated earlier civilization." (Wikipedia, Flood Mythology). Though Genesis and the Epic of Gilgamesh are probably the most famous accounts of the Deluge, many cultures share similar stories: Norse mythology, Matsya in Hindu literature, and Deucalion in Greek mythology. Even the Aztecs have a flood story.

Why does the archetype of the great flood appear so often across cultures? Was there truly a global flood that eradicated the sum whole of human civilization, God's attempt to destroy evil and give humanity a rebirth, as described in Genesis? Does the repeating story have something to do with the fact that most early cities were built in the flood-zones of massive rivers? It is true, after all, that ancient cultures depended upon their home river for the survival of their entire civilization. Perhaps it seemed to them that their civilization was the entire world, and if their homeland fell then the world had indeed been destroyed. Many, though not all, cultures revered their river as a god. The Egyptians certainly worshiped the Nile, and the Amazon sustained life for hundreds of miles down its coasts. And why shouldn't their river be considered godlike? In many ways, a city's river was a god: Immortal, unending, life-giving, and uncontrollable. So perhaps the constant theme of the Deluge is based upon many different floods that occurred through out time. Or, as this paper will explore, perhaps the Deluge is something even more basic and principle to human nature.

Shanhaijing, a great work of Chinese literature, describes their liquid cataclysm, "floodwaters overflowed [to] heaven" (18, Anne Birrells). It is clear that all cultures both depended upon and feared their native god-like rivers. Such a stormy diety could flow peacefully, springing forth life and abundance; but the balance is dangerous: Too little water could mean a dry season and famine; too much water creates an apocalypse worthy of centuries of literature. Many literary accounts of a massive flood share similarities, despite differences in culture. For instance, such a catastrophe is almost always considered an act of the gods. In the Epic of Gilgamesh, for example, the gods send a flood to wipe out "the uproar of mankind" (Gilgamesh, 35). Similarly, the story of Genesis describes an account of the Hebrew god, who, disappointed with the wickedness on earth, sends a flood to destroy the entire world. From this comparison, one can draw the conclusion that humankind fears being wiped out for their own evil deeds. More, in fact, than a man fears his own personal punishment, he seems to fear the destruction of all mankind has accomplished. This reflects a common anxiety, distinct in both the Hebrew and Assyrian cultures: Humans are concerned that their own selfishness will be the downfall of civilization, whether as punishment from a great diety in heaven, or from the watery diety that keeps their land alive.

Also worthy of note: In both the Epic of Gilgamesh and Genesis, the god(s) allow some humans to survive. In the Epic of Gilgamesh, Utnapishtim and his wife create a boat; while the Hebrew story features Noah, his family, and a great ark. In both stories the chosen faithful humans, granted sanctuary by the gods, must spend some amount of time closed in a miniature floating haven, while the waters subside and the world outside dies away. The boat, warm inside and cradling life, floating in a sea of fluid-such an image draws forth the idea of a womb. It is possible, then, that the frightening tale of a great Deluge is not a story of destruction and death, but rather a story of rebirth, the cleansing of humanity.

Furthermore, both stories share a common conclusion: After the extermination of the evils of humanity, the gods from both cultures weep at the loss. Despite the terror of death and punishment for transgressions, apparently these cultures-and perhaps all cultures-are able to accept that forgiveness is attainable. This hopeful eventuality is best expressed in Genesis: After the torrential downpour, no matter how many people suffer, a beautiful rainbow is inevitable.

However, these two myths also hold some differences. Examining the differences may also shed light on the truth of what the myth of the Deluge means to the human psyche. Genesis, for example, seems to center around the theme of rebirth for Noah's family; while The Epic of Gilgamesh focuses on Gilgamesh's lust for immortality. Unlike the Hebrew tale, Gilgamesh's story does not focus as heavily on the flood itself. Instead, Gilgamesh, the hero, merely hears about the flood from an immortal survivor: Utnapishtim. After hearing the story, Gilgamesh is far more concerned with how he can attain eternal life than about the destruction of the flood. After failing to achieve immortality two times, he goes home, dejected. As he nears his city, though, he sees the grand walls that surround his homeland and realizes that they will withstand history, even after he himself is gone. "This consolation is the assurance that his worldly accomplishments will endure beyond his own lifetime" (Norton, 12 ). This theme supports the idea that, while humankind may fear death, they are more concerned with at least leaving a piece of themselves behind. In other words, as long as civilization can persevere, humanity as a whole is immortal. The survival of one man is not important, as long as mankind thrives.

So, is the strange tale of a great global Deluge indeed true, as Plato suggests? In Timaeus, Plato is speaking of another familiar lost civlization: Atlantis. Atlantis, like the great floods of Noah and Gilgamesh, is two thousand year old mystery still pondered and wondered about today. The tale of Atlantis tells of a great city, with technology fall surpassing that of even the 20th century, completely lost beneath the sea. Did it really happen? Was there really a flood so great that it could destroy a city even grander than those we have today? Some people doubt it. "Atlantis, I take it, is a creation of Plato's own imagination" theorizes J.A. Steward in The Myths of Plato (466). However, whether or not the story of a great, global Deluge or the destruction of various cultures is true, the myth, at least, seems very important to mankind, even in modern times.

Mankind no longer needs to build cities around massive, dangerous river-deities. Our cities are safer, stronger, and less dependent upon the whims of nature. Why, then, is it human nature to still be fascinated by lost civilizations, drowned out by the Deluge? Perhaps, if the themes of old literature prove accurate, the ideas of rebirth and forgiveness are static, internal needs of all humans. Or maybe Gilgamesh's discovery that immortality is not the survival of one man, but of all mankind, still lingers with each culture today. There is no doubt that humans have the will to survive as a species. The Deluge, however, symbolizes our ability to be completely erased, to have our entire culture swept away by the gods. Certainly if Gilgamesh's city had met with the great flood, he would not have come home to find the comforting, immortal sight of his manmade wall. Those walls can crumble. Great cities can fall. Mankind can disappear from history. The Deluge proves that we are not immortal.