On Stephen Mitchell’s GILGAMESH: A NEW ENGLISH TRANSLATION

This is very much not a book review. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still gonna tag it under “Reviews,” but the Epic of Gilgamesh is four thousand years old and the notion of putting a star rating on it is kind of ludicrous. Now, Stephen Mitchell’s new translation includes a decently long introduction and 80 or so pages of translation notes, so I could “review” that, but I did not pick this up to read his notes or his introduction; I picked it up because I realized I didn’t have a decent translation of the epic in the house anywhere and I got a wild hair up my ass about it.

Now, that said: Mitchell’s translation– well, his adaptation, and I’ll get to the distinction in a bit– is in fact a lovely read, and it combines being compulsively readable in English with a fine poetic feel that makes reading it out loud flow beautifully. I’m not an expert here by any means– I considered shifting my Master’s degree away from Hebrew Bible and more toward Babylonian studies in grad school before deciding to abandon the entire affair, but that’s as close as I get.

The problem is neither is Stephen Mitchell, who openly admits that he “doesn’t read cuneiform and has no knowledge of Akkadian.” Which makes the decision to publish a new translation, or adaptation, or version, which is his word … interesting? He basically sat down with a bunch of English versions (of, remember, fragmentary texts in one of the oldest languages that humanity can still understand) and some scholarly treatments of the work and pulled together his text from that, first doing a prose pass and then converting it to English verse.

(There’s a whole post or maybe a series of them in here about how one translates poetry from one language to another; needless to say it’s hellaciously complicated and requires a lot of expertise in both of the languages involved and in writing poetry. I could never.)

Fun fact: the Epic of Gilgamesh contains the oldest reference to blowjobs I’m aware of. From Book VI:

Sweet Ishullanu, let me suck your rod,
touch my vagina, caress my jewel.

Except! In the translation notes at the end, Mitchell states that the literal translation is “eat your vigor,” which … okay, that sounds like a blowjob too, but since he doesn’t know any Akkadian it’s hard to say how reasonable that leap is, right? An actual scholar of the language and the culture might be able to provide some details there that led to that specific choice of words; for Mitchell it’s basically just vibes. This bothers the nearly-dead Bible scholar in me; it may not be especially relevant to other people.

There’s a bit where Enkidu tears the “thigh” off of a bull and throws it at Ishtar, and she takes it and puts it on an altar and makes it a centerpiece, and I’m thinking that maybe it wasn’t the thigh he actually tore off? Would love to see what a scholar had to say about that. But that’s not this version!

Anyway. I enjoyed reading this even if I had some issues with it, and maybe I’ll take a deep breath and find something more academic about the work and maybe a more traditional translation to compare the two. Or maybe not! It’s not like I don’t have a shitton of other stuff (including, remember, a whole other book called Gilgamesh) to read.

Four down

Brandon Sanderson, you son of a bitch.

I made it 450 pages into Oathbringer when it first came out back in 2017. I was pissed when I decided I had to DNF it– but it had taken me a rather astonishing twelve days to make it those 450 pages (for comparison’s sake, on this reread, during a week where I was working, I finished the entire 1240-page thing in a week) and not only was I not having any fun with it I was finding myself slowly convinced that the book was on the side of the bad guys, and I wasn’t in the right headspace for it one way or another.

Well.

Oathbringer is boring as hell for 900 pages.

I mean, that’s really all there is to it. I can’t recommend reading this book to anyone. I can’t tell anybody to endure nine fucking hundred pages of wheel-spinning and navel-gazing and characters that desperately need to invent antidepressants and irrelevant subplots that could be excised in their entirety without affecting the overall structure of the book. It is exactly the type of bloat that so frequently settles into this type of megaseries, especially when the author has already proven themselves to be someone who could shit on a series of napkins, bind them between two covers, and sell a million copies. Sanderson’s untouchable, and I mean that as a compliment. He doesn’t need to write good books anymore. He can do whatever he wants.

I do not feel bad about abandoning this book on the first pass. I damn near didn’t make it on the second.

And, if anything, the most frustrating thing about this miserable slog of a novel is that the last, oh, 300 pages of the book are some of the most exciting shit he’s ever written. Somewhere toward the end of Part Four or the beginning of Part Five, this motherfucker steps on the gas and he absolutely does not let off until the book is done.

Which meant I was really Goddamned irritated when one of my fucking cats jumped on my chest while I was reading– not in itself a surprising event– and, with about 80 pages left, pissed on my fucking book.

It was a splat, not, like, a full-blast stream, and she somehow managed to not get a single drop on me or on the chair I was sitting in, but my cat fucking pissed on my book while I was reading the fucking thing and I somehow did not immediately kill her or throw her outside in retaliation.

And then, upon discovering Amazon can’t get me another hardcover copy for a couple of weeks and the only other new bookstore in town didn’t have any copies, I had to fucking finish the book after doing everything I could to, more or less unsuccessfully, soak everything up and banish the cat piss smell from my book.

The cat? Seems to be fine. I would immediately suspect a UTI, right? But I’ve had cats get UTIs in the past, and it generally involves lots of little pee accidents and a general feeling that maybe they’re struggling when they do pee, and this little asshole seems completely fine. We’re keeping an eye on her, obviously, and they were all due for vet appointments anyway, but right now I’m assuming this is some deeply weird and unexpected bit of shitheadery and not a sign of something more alarming.

This marks the second pet I’ve had that has ruined one or more of my books by pissing on them, but Hector at least did it while they were on the shelf and close to the floor and not in my Goddamned hands.

Christ.

At any rate, 3601 pages down, 2845 to go.

In which no, you cannot

I discovered earlier today that this had happened– read the first couple of paragraphs if you don’t immediately see why I’m linking to it. The lady who wrote it sent me a very nice email about it, which I think deserves a response, if only to point out that I haven’t thrown myself down a hole or anything since I wrote that post. I was fascinated enough by it that I actually outed myself to the rest of the math team this afternoon so that I could share the article with them, so if any of my co-workers abruptly stop talking to me in the next few days I guess I know why.

I’m not quite sure what the hell happened today. My observing student taught his first lesson today, to my first and second hour, who were absolutely perfect for him, a feat that led to me spending $20 on candy this afternoon on the way home, and I intend to distribute every single piece tomorrow. Then third and fourth hours showed their asses in a big way; I had to put three kids out, and then the class period ended abruptly when the entire 8th grade got called downstairs for a meeting on no notice at all.

Oh, and Hosea asked four different girls to either be his girlfriend or to let him kiss them today, so I had to deal with that. One of them brought me a note he had written her. Check this out:

She has declined his offer to be her pudding.

I am not currently aware of whether the same poem was also used for the other girls, or whether those requests were in person.

God, I need tomorrow to be quiet.

A bit of doggerel

I’m kinda proud of this bit of nonsense, so I’m preserving it here since it’s less ephemeral than Twitter:

I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world

walt_whitman_-_brady-handy_restored.pngThis post’s got nothing at all to do with Walt Whitman, mind you, other than that line is running through my head at the moment.  Well, actually, it’s running through my head in my preferred alternate version, which is “I sigh my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.”  Why I think it’s okay for me to rewrite Whitman I don’t know, but that’s how that line always goes in my head until I remember it’s wrong, and for some reason I really prefer the sound of my version better.

I think he’ll forgive me.  He’s dead and famous and I think it’ll be okay if I mangle his immortal poetry a bit from time to time.

Today kinda sucked, speaking of barbaric yawps and the reasons for same.  Two members of the sales team/management staff are out of town, a critical warehouse guy is at National Guard training for two weeks, and… well, that’s actually more than enough given that the size of our staff isn’t that big to begin with.  Plus my printer stopped working for the entire day until an hour before close when it decided it was the right time to print every single document that I’d either deliberately or accidentally sent it for the entire day.  That meant that every invoice I wrote today meant I had to make at least one trip to the other side of the store.  Our store is big, and this is annoying.

Oh, also we hired a new fourth delivery guy last week for like the eighth time, and then today…hahashow.php.jpeg

No, we’re not allowed a second delivery crew no matter what we do.  Even when they get hired they disappear.  Woohoo!

I had two interactions with customers that burned my ass today, too, and I’m going to gripe about them even though I’m certain I’ve griped about other versions of them before.

  1. The customer who actually had the gall to get pissed when I told her we’d be able to deliver her stuff to her in three days.  This never ever happens, and was only possible because we had a couple of cancellations last night.  I tell every single customer I have to expect a 7-10 day wait for delivery until we get that second crew in place, and I put it on the invoice.  And you’re bitching about three?  She actually asked me if I was kidding.  I should have told her to go to hell.
  2. One guy (this one wasn’t mine) who got all kinds of pissed at me because his bed wasn’t in.  It was day 8.  I tell my customers to expect their stuff to be in the store within two weeks; I’ve heard people say 7-10 days, which is usually true but is not true frequently enough that I tend to just round up.  He went on a long rant about how if it wasn’t here by Thursday he was going to cancel.  Oddly, the fact that I told him several times that it was highly unlikely that his stuff would arrive by Thursday (if it ain’t on a truck on Monday, it’s probably not going to be here by Thursday) did not actually lead him to cancel– just to continue to threaten to cancel.  Like, are you literally just bitching at me to hear the sound of your voice?  I don’t care if you cancel.  I really don’t.  You’re not my customer and I’m only putting up with your shit because you’re bitching at whoever answered the phone instead of asking for your salesman, and I don’t have the energy for that when I’m the only person on my entire half of the floor and my printer doesn’t work.  Fuck off.  Other days I may have some patience for you; today is not that day.
  3. Same guy, in an entirely separate sin, made a big deal about how he’d already paid for his furniture and we’d “cashed his check.”  First of all: fuck you for writing a check.  It’s 2017, goddammit.  Second of all, find me the retail place that gives you shit before you pay for shit?  There are literally none of those.  Granted, some places give you your shit quickly after you pay for it, but every single retail establishment on the planet makes you pay for your stuff before you get it.  Third, the staff doesn’t get paid until stuff is delivered.  So nobody has gotten the– wait for it– $15 commission on the bed you bought, which is literally the cheapest bed we offer in the store.  Piss on fifteen dollars.  Okay, there’s $300 in a company account somewhere that used to be yours, assuming the check’s actually cleared by now.  So the hell what?  We’ll give it back if you cancel.  So please cancel?  Thanks.

Just not in the mood for dicks today.  I was running from the second I got to the store until maybe half an hour ago.  I picked the boy up from my parents at 8:30, already half an hour past his bedtime, and came home and fed the pets and changed the bed and made him put his pajamas on and got him into bed and wrote a blog post and now maybe I can read and relax for a bit before go to sleep.  Will I be any more tolerant toward entitled assholes tomorrow?  No, I will not.

(Note, because I feel like I should: the vast majority of my customers are really nice people.  I interacted with way more than two people today, but damn if I wasn’t surprised that I got through those two interactions without blowing my stack.  It was a really long day.)

Shut up brain I’m trying to sleep

2book8-431x652.jpgI have found, officially and beyond dispute, the stupidest imaginable reason to not be able to sleep.  It is because your brain is insisting on composing interview answers for the teaching job your brother has, using questions that he described from his interview, and you want to talk about a sample Language Arts lesson, but you can’t remember one stanza from Jabberwocky and you’re asleep enough that just looking it the fuck up is not something that is going to happen but the knowledge that you can’t remember it is keeping you from falling asleep, and even in this weird scenario you’re constructing in your head, the not-real people who are interviewing you for this not-real interview that your brother had and not you are starting to get impatient with you for not remembering that one stanza because it really isn’t the point.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is a stupid reason to not be able to fall asleep.

Typed from memory, and then verified before hitting “Publish”

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogoves
and the mome raths outgrabe.

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the jub-jub bird, and shun
the frumious Bandersnatch!

He took his Vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxsome foe he sought
So rested he by the tum-tum tree
And stood a while in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame
came whiffling through the tulgey wood
and blurbled as it came.

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The Vorpal sword went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!”
“Oh, frabjous day!  Callooh!  Callay!
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe.

The red paragraph is the one I couldn’t remember; I stuck the word “uffish” in the line above it (“And stood in uffish thought”) and that screwed me up enough that I couldn’t pull the next stanza out of my head.

I’ve long believed that everyone should have a poem or two memorized, just for the hell of it, but if it causes shit like this to happen, it may not be worth it.

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: James Wylder, Poet/Playwright/Raconteur

DSCF1669I met James Wylder at InConJunction, and spent three days sitting next to him and selling each other’s books.  He’s cool.  You should check his stuff out.  

Tell us about yourself.

I’m the author of “An Eloquence of Time and Space” the Unofficial Doctor Who Poetry Book“, the plays Cryptos and God Save the Pres.! as well as my first book of poetry, Cascade. I graduated from Hanover College in Southern Indiana, and currently live in Elkhart, Indiana. I’m also the co-owner of Shotgun Angel Games LLC, and I won second place in a costume contest as Seneca Crane from the Hunger Games once.

What about your work?  What projects do you have going right now, and what older work are you proudest of?

Right now I’m serializing a story on my website called 10,000 Dawns, with a new chapter being released every Thursday. I’m also editing several of my books for an upcoming release. 10,000 Dawns is the really exciting one for me, as every chapter has its own piece of artwork drawn to accompany it by Annie Zhu, and each chapter is also being released in an audio format by the Southgate Media Group as a free download. People are really enjoying it so far, so I can’t wait to bring out the rest of the story!

On the game development end of my work, I’m working on a Tabletop Roleplaying Game called Greys by Gaslight that features investigators in Victorian London fighting alien invaders. Essentially it’s “The X-Files: 1888.”

Cover2Can you tell us more about 10,000 Dawns?  (Later Luther edit: I phrased this question in kind of a dumb way.  Of fuckin’ course he can.  I would have been really entertained had James just answered “No.  I cannot tell you more about my story.”)

It’s a science fiction story about a teenage girl named Graelyn who takes a research internship in an underwater city, only to find out the secluded city is being used to attempt to create a portal into a parallel universe. The experiment works, and Graelyn is thrown into a reality where she finds out she grows up to be a person she finds abhorrent. How she reacts to this, and how she changes as a character are the big questions of the story. Using science fiction to peel back the layer’s of a person’s character and self-image has been fascinating, and a lot of fun as well.  The mix of drama and fun is what’s drawn readers to the story so far. There is real character drama, and exploration of the future and alternate universes, but also things like the dance sequence in chapter two that people adored. I’m very proud of it .

When did you realize that writing was something you really wanted to do?

I’ve wanted to write ever since my Dad was reading Michael Stackpole and Timothy Zahn novels at my bedside! Or maybe even before that. I used to make my sisters and mom write down the stories for books I would then (badly) illustrate. Its been in my bones as long as I can remember.

I know you just came off a fairly extensive con tour.  Do you have any suggestions or advice for authors about getting people at conventions or book signings interested in their work?

Have a hook. That is by far the most important thing I could advise. There are tons of people at booths all over the convention all: why should people stop at yours? What makes yours special? You might be afraid a hook will push people away because it will alienate people who aren’t interested in what you’re drawing them in with: and you’d be right.
But you will lose far more sales from people who aren’t interested in your work because nothing could draw them in at all than you will from the few who go “Well that doesn’t sound like something I’d like.” You’d never have gotten their sales anyways.

For me, my hook was Doctor Who. I dressed as the Doctor nearly every day at the conventions I was at (with a few exceptions due to heat in the facilities making wearing a full suit for eight hours a health hazard) as well as bringing a banner that said exactly what I was selling- Doctor Who poetry!

1062516_587283344625317_854549267_nWhat’s your social media presence like?  Outside of conventions, what are you doing to promote yourself and your work?

I have my website, jameswylder.com, where I am currently serializing my story 10,000 Dawns, as well as a Facebook page for myself and several of my most important works. I also am on Twitter as @arcbeatle, and you can find me on tumblr at 10000dawns.tumblr.com.

Outside of conventions I do interviews like this one, and try to break through the clutter on Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook. I find it much easier to get fans interested in my work in person. I also do stops at regular old bookstores and cafes, and between those and conventions that’s where most of my publicity comes from.

I’ve been struggling to make my online presence really notable, and its an egg I’m just not adept at cracking compared to my skill at in person interactions. Hopefully as I keep learning I’ll be able to promote myself better in both forums!

What’s the best response to someone who tells you “I don’t read poetry” or “I don’t read plays”?

For some people, its as simple as what they said: they know they don’t like poetry or theatre, and there is little I can do to change that. However, the best response I can give is to hand them one of my books and let them read it. There’s so often a look of joy and surprise as they find poetry and theatre that they find they can relate to and touches them or makes them laugh.

I feel like a lot of people have the impression that poetry and theatre are elitist mediums that have to be elusive from their every day lives, and they certainly can be. Whenever I see someone teaching children Shakespeare’s plays or sonnets and bulldozing over the witty humor in it because they see the text as ‘sacred’, I cringe. A lot of people have kept that mentality that poetry and theatre isn’t something they can let loose inside– when that’s exactly what it should be there for!

So just saying to give it a chance is the best I can do. It so often works wonders.

An_Eloquence_of_Time_and_Space5 (1)What’s your favorite poem from An Eloquence of Space and Time, and why is it your favorite?

My favorite poem from the book is one of the shortest, and also the most complete. As a poety being able to create a short poem that truly captures and expresses the truth of something big is a much larger accomplishment than making a very long poem that does that.

3.3 Gridlock
trapped on a turntable
round and round we go
with Sally Calypso

Is there a poem that has been your readers’ favorite?

The poem that has always gotten the best reactions from readers has been the one for the episode “Smith and Jones”.

3.1 Smith and Jones
A Judoon Platoon on the Moon?
why did you assume that would be a boon
only a loon would attune to the goon
that harpooned Doctor Eun and its
not even noon in June to Harpoon
with Judoon on the moon! So soon!
Don’t listen to a tune on your Zune,
I know I make you swoon across this lunar dune
you’re a Doctor? I am too! Fate like runes!
bandits together like raccoons
leading to our Judoom

Smith and Jones to the rescue then
to assume the doom Judoon will zoom
into the room and entomb us like a womb
with a boom on the moon

we’ll weave this all up like a loom, this doom
and then no more Judoon
will harpoon in platoons on the moon
I assume?

Speaking of Eloquence, I see that that book’s production was actually successfully funded through Kickstarter.  Can you tell us more about that?  Did it work out as well as you hoped?  Have you thought about using it again since then?

When the 50th Anniversary of Doctor Who started to creep onto the horizon, I really wanted to do something special for the fans of the show. After all, it had been my favorite show since I was a little kid. I’d already done a Kickstarter to fund my first book of poetry, Cascade, so I thought this would be a great way to go about bringing this book into the world as well. As it turned out, it far exceeded my wildest expectations! The book met every single stretch goal I put in front of it,to the point that I ended up having the money to write a poem about every episode of Doctor Who from the whole first fifty years of the show– plus all the episodes of the spin offs! It was a daunting task, but I think it turned out spectacularly.

Not only have I thought about it, but I’ve used it twice since then. I have five more books funded by two different Kickstarters coming out in the next few months, which should be exciting!

Kickstarter is a wonderful tool for creators to get the funds they need to make what they want to. I should warn would be Kickstarters that its not just free money. To actually get funded takes a lot of work, and your backers will expect you to fulfill your promises. Plan your project hard, and don’t take it lightly!

There’s a new season of Dr. Who coming.  Any thoughts to updating the book?

I’ll definitely be doing a “Volume 2” at some point– but I’m probably going to wait till Peter Capaldi finishes his whole run as the Doctor. After all, I blew through 50 years of TV for the first book, I’ll need a nice meaty amount of Doctor Who to chew on for more poems!

I can’t wait to watch Series 9 of Doctor Who– Peter Capaldi is so good in the lead role, and I know he’s going to do spectacular things with it.

God_Save_the_Pres.!_Cover_for_KindleLet’s talk about fandom for a moment.  You’re obviously a big Dr. Who fan.  What else are you into?  Any hobbies/life passions outside fandom and wordsmithery?

Oh plenty. I’m a gigantic fan of Decipher’s WARS Universe, for which I run the only fansite: thezocho.weebly.com. I also love Star Trek, Star Wars, the Middle Earth Universe, the World of Darkness…. Oh goodness I could go on forever. I’m a giant nerd.

I’m fairly new to comics, but I’ve loved Ant-Man since I was a little kid (unusual, I know) so the recent movie was a big treat for me. I’m also big on Captain America, Black Widow, the X-Men and Batman (thanks to Bruce Tim’s excellent animated series). Since the Marvel Cinematic Universe started I’ve never missed a film or a TV show. They’ve got me hook line and sinker at this point… Though I’m still waiting for a Black Widow movie (C’mon Marvel, make it happen!)

I also love running, though sadly with all my writing and touring I’m out of shape. Exploring nature is a big hobby of mine. Oh, and roleplaying games. I’ve been playing those excessively since I was a tot as well!

Anything else we should definitely know about?  

Right now I’m a part of Southgate Media Group’s Charity Drive to help raise money for a child fighting cancer named Ben. If you want to help donate to his recovery, use the link here.

Just in case you missed all the links, here’s where to find James out there on the interwubz:

Kids Who Die, by Langston Hughes

This is for the kids who die,
Black and white,
For kids will die certainly.
The old and rich will live on awhile,
As always,
Eating blood and gold,
Letting kids die.

Kids will die in the swamps of Mississippi
Organizing sharecroppers
Kids will die in the streets of Chicago
Organizing workers
Kids will die in the orange groves of California
Telling others to get together
Whites and Filipinos,
Negroes and Mexicans,
All kinds of kids will die
Who don’t believe in lies, and bribes, and contentment
And a lousy peace.

Of course, the wise and the learned
Who pen editorials in the papers,
And the gentlemen with Dr. in front of their names
White and black,
Who make surveys and write books
Will live on weaving words to smother the kids who die,
And the sleazy courts,
And the bribe-reaching police,
And the blood-loving generals,
And the money-loving preachers
Will all raise their hands against the kids who die,
Beating them with laws and clubs and bayonets and bullets
To frighten the people—
For the kids who die are like iron in the blood of the people—
And the old and rich don’t want the people
To taste the iron of the kids who die,
Don’t want the people to get wise to their own power,
To believe an Angelo Herndon, or even get together

Listen, kids who die—
Maybe, now, there will be no monument for you
Except in our hearts
Maybe your bodies’ll be lost in a swamp
Or a prison grave, or the potter’s field,
Or the rivers where you’re drowned like Leibknecht
But the day will come—
You are sure yourselves that it is coming—
When the marching feet of the masses
Will raise for you a living monument of love,
And joy, and laughter,
And black hands and white hands clasped as one,
And a song that reaches the sky—
The song of the life triumphant
Through the kids who die.