What do you mean?

This quote gets to the essence of the entire premise of The Epic of Gilgamesh, a question that everyone must answer in some part at some point in their lives: what does my life mean? Does it have meaning at all? Meaning seems to interrelated with permanence; should anyone say “no, my life does no have meaning” there is a good chance that it is because they see life as transient and human accomplishment ephemeral. True, it is incredible disheartening to reflect up on the fact that in no more than a hundred years there will be few, if any, living persons who will remember yours truly. What, then, is the point in living at all if one’s existence will not be remembered- indeed, cease to exist - in the relatively short time period of a century? Perhaps Schopenhauer was correct; life is inherently illogical and miserable and persisting in the will to live is pointless and masochistic.

The first time I began to have such depressing thoughts was the summer before sophomore year. My grandfather had just passed away. This is going to sound terrible, but I realized I didn’t even know his name (I simply called him “paternal grandfather”), barely knew anything about him, and the last time I had spent time with him had been three years prior. If I couldn’t remember his life, then how was anyone else expected to? At the conclusion of his funeral, all of his worldly possessions were burned so that they could be rejoined with their owner, but I found it upsetting. Gathered under the hot summer sun, the sum total of his life was being turned into smoke. I return to this mental image every time I think about the transience of human life. In comparison, while sitting in Art History I find it simply amazing that human structures such as the Great Pyramids or Parthenon have survived for the thousands of years that they have. 

Gilgamesh suffers from the same problem; he is consumed by a desire to win eternal glory. He understands that “only the gods live forever...but as for us men, our days are numbered, our occupations are a breath of wind” (71). His pursuit of eternal glory end successfully, even if he never obtains everlasting life; instead, he lives on through story. However, it is patently impossible for every single person to be revered in story; for the average person meaning is difficult to come by. As a quick disclaimer, (and I don’t mean to sound like a pessimist) I personally do not believe that life has any inherent meaning. This is not say however, that creating one’s own meaning is not perfectly valid or acceptable; on the contrary, I think it is admirably courageous and necessary. 

However, I don’t think that most people I know have a problem with the inherent meaninglessness of their lives. They seem perfectly content (or, at this point in time, overwhelmed) with the particulars of their “private world” (a phrase I stole from Bertrand Russell, but not really since I am giving him credit here). For them, their moment of existentialism awaits. Yet our private worlds, if not always emotionally satisfying, are full of errands, commitments, relationships: things which demand our attention and impart a sense of fulfillment when completed, This is ultimately how we create meaning in our lives. We lay a foundation from which we can build a framework to support our meaning. True, these foundations themselves are based on nothing and the framework they support is completely dependent on the foundation, but they assign worth and  consequence to our actions. Jospeph Campbell shows us how myths embody universal truths dressed in guises specific to each society. Religion thus provides us with set of maxims to live by, by clearly designating what is  “bad” and what is “good.” To provide a somewhat abstract analogy, in contrast to still or tepid air (no meaning), a system of beliefs creates high (good) and low (bad) pressure systems, and the difference between them creates movement (meaning). 

The dread of death is ameliorated in several ways. A society or individual can ascribe to a belief in the afterlife or even the belief that one’s actions in this world affect the quality of existence in the afterlife. Personally, I find death morbidly fascinating and am curious to see what it would be like to die (although I have a caveat; no pain, please). Again, a system of beliefs can attach meaning to death; it can tell us that judgement after death will redeem us morally, that death is the beginning of another life, or that death is part of a circle of life that encompasses all living organisms. Such a system treats death as serving a purpose. The constant shadow of death also emphasizes the fragility of life. Enkidu realizes this as he awaits death and after a brief period of bitterness, is able to appreciate Gilgamesh’s companionship and the guidance of the harlot. Siduri advises Gilgamesh that “the lot of man” is to enjoy the simple things: dancing, eating, fresh clothes, and delight in one’s family (102).