00 21/01/2019 22:23

ilgamesh and the Flood



Gilgamesh Revisited
The overarching themes of "gathering together," "counselors," "agreement," and "shepherding" or "pastures" and a "flock" also appear in the earliest writings of Mesopatamia. In Gilgamesh there is a "gathering together" of the "country of Uruk" governed by the Seven Counselors who laid its foundations (I.i, II.ii, II.vi). The focus of their attention is the warrior Enkidu. They introduce Gilgamesh to Enkidu, for the two are destined to be companions on a quest. The "great counselors" (III.vi) warn Gilgamesh that the quest will be dangerous. Later Enkidu reassures Gilgamesh that "two are better than one" (IV.iv/v) – a speech found also in the book of Ecclesiastes (Ecc. 4:9-12).

The warriors kill Humbaba, Guardian of the Pine/Cedar Forest. Humbaba is "like a strong lion who cannot withstand two of its own cubs" (V.ii). Then they slaughter the Bull of Heaven unleashed by Ishtar, queen of "courtesans and harlots" (VI.v). The triumphant duo return home to Uruk.

One can imagine a primitive version of the story ending with the duo’s return to Uruk. They return not only as heroes but gods. This idea is given weight by the historical context of the New Year’s Festival in Babylon, where tablets of the Gilgamesh story have been excavated. The New Year’s Festival involved the arrival of gods on Earth to be among men, and as well the festival included a ritual marriage ceremony to bind heaven to earth.

In the epic itself Gilgamesh and Enkidu before their departure promise to return for the New Year’s Festival, celebrated in the Spring. Gilgamesh gives a kingly speech and anticipates his own triumphant return to Uruk as a god:

‘Young men of Uruk!
I am adamant: I shall take the road [to Humbaba].
… Give me your blessing, since I [have decided] on the course,
That I may enter the city-gate of Uruk [again in the future],
And [celebrate] the New Year Festival once again in [future years],
And take part in the New Year Festival in years [to come].
Let the New Year Festival be performed, let joy resound,
Let joyful cries ring out in [Uruk].’ (II.vi)

In Order and Chaos we saw how the New Year Festival was blocked by forces of evil (by nomads who took control of the river outside of Babylon), and likewise Humbaba is the "terror of the people" (II.vi) who has blocked the way to heaven and who must be destroyed. Gilgamesh and Enkidu must open the passage for the arrival and departure of the gods to ensure a good harvest and a good year. This then is the reason for their quest. This simple rationale would have found instant approval with everyone who heard this story, because the New Year’s Festival was an ongoing tradition.

The counselors of Uruk give further testimony in support of this theory when they advise the pair to look after each other. They advise the strong man Enkidu to protect Gilgamesh so that he may return safely for the sacred marriage ceremony of the New Year’s Festival. More important, Gilgamesh must remain unharmed because the counselors rely on him as their King. Speaking to Gilgamesh (and indirectly to Enkidu) the counselors advise:

‘Let Enkidu guard the friend, keep the comrade safe,
Bring him back safe in person for brides,
So that we in our assembly may rely on you [Gilgamesh] as king,
And that you in turn as king may rely on us again.’ (III.i)

After Humbaba is killed the story resumes in Uruk, where Gilgamesh cleanses himself and puts on new robes. He wears his crown again, and his beauty attracts the goddess Ishtar, who beseeches him to be her husband. This narrative may have worked as a festival poem before the ritual marriage ceremony. At this point all allusions to the Festival are dropped as the story continues. Gilgamesh rejects Ishtar and this sets into motion the story of the Bull of Heaven, which is really the second episode of the first quest.

When the Bull of Heaven is dispatched the pair enjoy a brief victory, but it’s cut short when Enkidu has three disturbing dreams, the first of which involves a "gathering together" of the gods. The gods are upset that the Bull of Heaven (the heavy weight of Jupiter unleashed by Venus) has been killed, and also that Humbaba (the course of Mercury and the might of Mars) has been beheaded. There is disagreement or disharmony among the gods because Shamash, the Sun, is blamed by Ellil ("the counselor and father of the gods," VII.ii) for leading Gilgamesh and Enkidu on their quest (VII.i). This is a pun on the sun’s "daily accompaniment" of the pair.

Enkidu has a second dream about a great doorway built from the timbers of the Cedar Forest which he himself cut down. Enkidu fashioned the doorway but "the king who shall arise after me shall go through you" (VII.ii). Enkidu has opened the way for Gilgamesh to fulfill his destiny as divine king. Alas! In the dream this doorway is torn down. (VII.ii.)

Enkidu awakes from this dream and Gilgamesh interprets it as portending "a year of grief." Enkidu realizes that the gods are upset and holds himself responsible since he accompanied Gilgamesh on the quest. Enkidu was the "strong man of the wilderness" without whom, according to the "two is better than one" maxim, Gilgamesh would have been unable to accomplish his feats. In the first light of morning Enkidu abases himself before Shamash in atonement (VII.ii,iii).

Enkidu’s grief turns to anger. The epic starts when Enkidu is seduced by Shamhat, the "harlot of Shamash" (I.iv). In a fit of rage, Enkidu, much to the annoyance of Shamash, curses Shamhat for taking away his "purity" in the wilderness (VII.iii). At Shamash’s intervention, Enkidu changes his tune and blesses her instead. He offers her a necklace of ivory (white), lapis lazuli (blue), and gold (VII. iv) – the colors of the wide-pathed Earth. A similar necklace is worn by Ishtar (XI.iv).

In essence the Gilgamesh epic contains three different expositions which together define the Mesopatamian universe. The three stories are the cedar forest crossing, the sea crossing, and the flood. Shamash is revealed to be the only one to have "crossed the sea" and is thus uniquely qualified to have led Gilgamesh through the forest, which is metaphorically the same as the sea:

Nobody from time immemorial has crossed the sea. Shamash the warrior is the only one who has crossed the sea: apart from Shamash nobody has crossed the sea. (X.ii)

After the cedar forest adventure there is discord or disagreement among the gods whose peace has been disrupted. This bodes ill for Uruk and for mankind in general and makes Enkidu ill. He eventually dies of grief. Gilgamesh is devastated by his friend’s death and his sense of loss is what sends him on the next quest, in which he acts alone.

After Enkidu dies (VII.vi) Gilgamesh laments over his corpse:

"Enkidu, my friend …
…Cattle made you familiar with all the pastures,
[Your] paths led to the Pine Forest.
… They shall weep for you, the elders of the broad city,
of Uruk the Sheepfold….
… They shall weep for you, the [trees] of the mountains,
… They shall weep for you, myrtle, cypress, and pine,
In the midst of which we armed ourselves in our fury." (VIII.i)

Because Enkidu was a shepherd of the wilderness he knew the paths and how to find the entrance to the Pine Forest. In the text above the people of Uruk are like "sheep" protected presumably by Enkidu if not Ellil and Shamash. Uruk is a "sheepfold." But the "walls of Uruk" extend beyond the physical city and into the spiritual realm. The "wall of Uruk" is a "copper band" (I.i) – bound on Earth and broken apart in heaven. (See notes 6 and 8 of Babylon for other examples of "bands".) Like bands torn apart, the death of Humbaba at the hands of Gilgamesh and Enkidu "splits apart" the mountains of Sirara and Lebanon (V.ii). The slaying of the Guardian Humbaba establishes Gilgamesh and Enkidu as demi-gods and brings them not only closer to their origins, but draws the city of Uruk closer to heaven. This makes the death of the shepherd that much more of a disaster. In particular the elders (or counselors) of Uruk weep for the dead warrior, as above.

The trees of the high mountain are anthropomorphized and they too weep for Enkidu. The "mountain of Mashu" and its pasturage touches "the foundation of the sky" (IX.ii) and indeed the pasture eventually brings Gilgamesh to an uncrossable forest or sea. As explained in Order and Chaos, cedars being felled and passages being cleared describe a cosmic terrain, and the slaying of the guardian of the forest has cosmic significance. The Mesopatamians believed in three heavens: upper, middle, and lower. The upper was the domain of Anu. Enkidu was born out of this third and highest heaven (I.ii), "two-thirds divine and one-third mortal" (IX.ii) and thus has a divine shepherding instinct. Enkidu’s demi-godhood gives him the ability to far-see over the whole of the forest, from earth to heaven, and thus he acts as a kind of "ka" for Gilgamesh’s soul. As well, Gilgamesh and Enkidu are made "from the flesh of gods and mankind" (X.v) and enjoy a special affinity with Shamash, the Sun.

The death of Humbaba also opens the way for Ishtar to lead the Bull of Heaven to Earth and unleash it against Gilgamesh. Ishtar has to first procure it from her father, Anu, king of the highest heaven where the Bull is pastured. Anu at first refuses it to her because it would parch the world if unleashed:

He said to the princess Ishtar,
‘On no account should you request the Bull of Heaven from me!
There would be seven years of chaff in the land of Uruk.
You would gather chalk instead of gems,
You would raise grass instead of [wheat].’ (VI.iii)

But Anu relents and Ishtar leads the bull to the "wall of Uruk" where Gilgamesh and Enkidu, to the dismay of Ishtar, slaughter the beast and offer it as a sacrifice to Shamash (VI.v). Thus a disaster is averted on Earth even though an even greater tragedy seems to have been initiated in heaven. But looked at from a historical perspective, one can imagine during the New Year’s Festival the arrival of two statues on barges, a set-piece, of Ishtar the goddess leading the Bull of Heaven – a great bull statue – "by the reins" (VI.iv), and so the story underscores what even the youngest school child was familiar with in real life.

The two warriors serve as unwitting catalysts for celestial events. Enkidu dies of grief, and Gilgamesh becomes downtrodden. The flood story is narrated to Gilgamesh after he’s crossed the sea. This is in marvelous contrast to the biblical version, which is presented "in the moment" of the flood itself. Gilgamesh is at the "far-distant" source of the rivers, in the land of Ut-Napishtim, a name which means "he found life." Gilgamesh, by hearing the story second-hand, and being where he is, raises the flood narrative to a new level. Gilgamesh isn’t delivered or saved, and when Gilgamesh is later told that "a throne has been set down for you in the assembly" (X.v) he seems to be unaffected by the news. However, the grief of the hero is what prompts the god Ut-Napishtim to relate the story of "long ago" about the flood (XI.i). The story is a "secret of the gods" and when the story is done Ut-Napishtim reveals that he and his wife were the survivors of the flood, and that afterwards the assembly of gods made them gods too for their efforts (XI.iv).

The Flood
Each culture in the ancient world had its own version of a flood narrative, and each version reflects the beliefs of the culture. Any attempt to formalize the story is to tread into dangerous waters. The Gilgamesh epic, by placing the hero in the far reaches of the universe, raises the ante over the Genesis version. The New Year’s Festival is alluded to one last time in Gilgamesh as follows:

At the [rising of the Sun] I slaughtered oxen.
I sacrificed sheep every day.
I gave the workmen ale and beer to drink,
Oil and wine as if they were river water.
They made a feast, like the New Year’s Day festival. (XI.ii)

This mini-celebration marks the completion and launch of the ark. The real New Year’s Day festival was partly a fertility rite and partly a harvest festival. The flood narrative raises the stakes considerably. The flood is no New Year’s Day celebration. The hero of the flood, Ut-Napishtim, knows that the Sun will be darkened and so makes sacrifices to the Sun-god Shamash in a desperate appeal. Eventually the Sun will re-appear and Ut-Napishtim wants to make sure that he’s in the god’s favor.

The New Year’s Day festival marks the location of certain stars as they begin a full rotation around the Earth. The Sumerians knew that the Sun slips behind the stars by 1 degree every 72 years. This adds up over 2160 years to 30 degrees, and 12 measures of 30 degrees is a full circle and thus a full precession of the Sun across twelve constellations. Gilgamesh was written, in its various forms, when the Sun was moving from Taurus the bull to Aries the Ram. The text given above is in fact a litany of these star groups: the "slaughtered oxen" represents Taurus; the sheep represent Aries; and Pisces, the two fish, is compared with ale and beer, or oil and wine, which flow like "river water" where the fish swim.

The length of the flood is "six days and seven nights" (XI.iii). Can this be interpreted as 156 hours? What exactly does the flood represent? Given the exotic locale of "the far-distant" Ut-Napishtim "at the mouth [source] of the river" – which Gilgamesh has a hard time finding – the flood might represent a voyage on the celestial river, not without precedent in Near Eastern lore with its multiplicity of underworld and "gate" literature. "Let him … go back to his country through the great gate, through which he once left" (XI.iv).

It takes 76 hours to reach the Moon, 76 hours to return, and since the flood described to Gilgamesh takes 156 hours, this leaves 4 hours, which is two orbits of the Moon.

But one must stop to consider the term "six days and seven nights" because Gilgamesh fell into a sleep for "six days and seven nights" (XI.iv). Sleep is a kind of darkness, and so too the Sun’s rays are obliterated by the flood: "for six days and seven nights, the tempest, flood and onslaught had struggled like a woman in labor" (XI.iii). Darkness is thus linked with the womb. "Six days and seven nights" also describes the length of time that Enkidu, the shepherd, "was aroused and poured himself into Shamhat" (I.v).

Gilgamesh’s wisdom comes while perched in Ut-Napishtim’s "far-distant" realm at the source of the rivers. When he wakes from his dreamless sleep he’s cleansed and given new robes and then sent back to Earth.

Enkidu’s wisdom comes when he lies at the side of the Sun’s courtesan, Shamhat, a woman who also belongs to the queen of love, Ishtar.

Enkidu … had acquired judgment, had become wiser.
The harlot spoke to him, to Enkidu,
‘You have become profound Enkidu,
You have become like a god.’ (I.v)

Darkness goes with the womb and new life, and as well with the flood and death. Death and life go hand in hand. Mamit, who decrees the fate of death, is also the Mother Goddess of birth:

‘The Anunnaki, the great gods, assembled;
Mammitum who creates fate decreed destinies with them.
They appointed death and life.
They did not mark out days for death,
But they did so for life.’ (X.vi)

Mammitum is the "womb-goddess" (Atrahasis, I.vi). Ten lunar months is the "term of fate" (Atrahasis, I.v/vi), after which the baby is delivered. Given a lunar month of 27.3 days, ten months is exactly 42 trips to the Moon, and there are 42 Judges in the Near Eastern pantheon of Underworld demons. This number is also the area of the ark in Gilgamesh:

‘I laid down her structure, drew it out,
Gave her six decks,
Divided her into seven.’ (XI.ii)

Six times seven is forty-two. The middle of the ark is divided into nine, probably the Ennead or nine gods "in the midst" of the demons. These nine gods are like a three-by-three grid at the center of the six-by-seven grid, or they could be a central ring of gods surrounded by a ring of demons.

Early versions of Gilgamesh also contain references to ten, being the ten antediluvian kings of primeval Akkad. They must have been linked to the flood just as Ut-Napishtim was: as gods. Each King was associated with a star, forming a ring around the section of the heavens called "The Water." When the Water was somewhere close to the constellation Pisces, the Pegasus Square marked out the risings of Uranus and Neptune at certain times of the year. To the East, but not far away, another star marked out Saturn. The Bull constellation, and particularly the star Aldebaran, marked, at the winter solstice, what "The Water" actually stood for, being the physical location of the Moon. At this time of year flooding would have been common in Mesopatamia, but "The Water" wasn’t solely responsible for flooding – then as now the seasons were determined by the Earth’s tilt.

In antiquity the antediluvian stars circled the Bull of Heaven (Taurus) like a vast crown. Four of them formed a "quandrangle" which marked the cardinal points on the horizon during the year. Obviously this scheme only worked in the latitudes of the Near East. All of the Kings were visible on the horizon and welcomed by the Sun at different times of the year. The Bull started to be "sacrificed" to the Sun around 5300 BCE, although the constellation was certainly called something else. There are still old reliefs or engravings of a lion (the Sun) bringing down a bull (the sacrifice). About seven to five thousand years ago the Bull was fixed on the "The Water" or the Moon. When Gilgamesh was written Aries was closer to the Moon’s place. During the last two millenia the multitudes have converged on the Pegasus Square in Pisces.

How They Saw It
The Babylonians and Sumerians, though lacking supercomputers, were not stuck in the dark ages. The Gilgamesh epic contains many numbers and though some have more meaning than others, they aren’t just random. The Gilgamesh Ark is nothing less than the system of numbers that gave the Mesopatamians their seasons and marked out the year.

The sky was divided into six bands separated in ascension, which circled the Earth. Two were for Winter (Ea’s way), two for Spring (Anu’s or Nebiru’s way), and two for Summer (Enlil’s way), and then back to Nebiru for Autumn.

The Ark divisions were "seven and seven" – being seven divisions for Ea and seven for Enlil. As well, there were nine divisions in "the middle" for Anu or Nebiru (both names are used for this band). (See the "Ark dimensions" of XI.ii, above.)

Since the Earth is tilted, some of the stars in Enlil’s band (Summer) wouldn’t be visible in Ea’s time (Winter) and vice versa. The Sun travels through the entire rotation of stars in about a month’s time. A season is about three months and so there were three full rotations per band – one rotation per month.

A band of 7 divisions has 3 times 7 or 21 divisions for a season. The "seven and seven" bands (or "womb-mistresses," or "jars," see Atrahasis I.v and note 22) for Ea and Enlil amount to 42 divisions for the year. Likewise, a band of 9 divisions has 3 times 9 or 27 divisions for a season, according to the Ark dimensions. Since Nebiru or Anu is traversed twice (Spring and Autumn) this is 54 divisions.

Notice that "six times seven" is 42, and likewise "six times nine" is 54. Another interpretation which is also important is "six days and seven nights," or 6.5 divisions, and likewise "eight days and nine nights," or 8.5 divisions.

The Babylonians counted the year by looking at the Moon’s appearance. They saw the Moon as a Sun just like the Sun itself, and so their months were "luni-solar" measures. That is, they took note of when the Moon started out as a crescent, grew into a half, into a full, then waned to a half, and finally disappeared for few days. (See The Epic of Creation, V.i, for a description of the number of days for each of these times.)

But the better measure of time was the Ark – the sky and its divisions. Thus "six days and seven nights" makes up System A, and this becomes 6.5 times 42, and then times 54, which is 14,742 sequential divisions of the sky. Likewise, "eight days and nine nights" makes up System B, and this becomes 8.5 times 54, and then times 42, which is 19,278 divisions. The total is 34,020 divisions.

Next, this total is divided by 42 plus 54, or 96 divisions for the year. This gives 354.375 days. This is called a "luni-solar" year; the result when divided by 12 "months" is the average luni-solar month of 29.53125 days.

The Babylonians must have realized when they started interpreting the Sun and Moon that their "year" was not quite measuring up to the seasons. This is when they instituted the practive of making "embolistic" or "pregnant" years, by simply adding one more luni-solar month to the year. This resulted in 13 months in the year, being 383.90625 days (on average). This extra month repeated the last month known as Ululu. Every third year, according to the Ark system, there was a "second Ululu" which made a pregnant year.

Since the year has a deficiency, let the month which is beginning be known as the second Ululu [the thirteenth month]. But the tribute which is due in Babylon on the 25th day of Tashritu should be paid on the 25th day of the second Ululu!
(Hammurabi’s Code, early second millenium BCE)

They chose this institution to make the luni-solar years line up with the solar year, being the Earth’s course around the Sun. There were now two kinds of luni-solar years: one regular and one "pregnant." A certain ordering of the two kinds of years nicely accounted for the discrepancy between luni-solar years and solar years. To merge the counts a weight factor based on the Venus elongation time of 583.33 (repeating) days was used. The seven-multiple of 42 divided by the nine-multiple of 72 is .5833. The number 72 is "eight days and nine nights" or 8 times 9.

Thus 72 divisions times 354.375 days, plus 42 divisions times 383.90625 days is 25,515 days plus 16,124.0625 days, for a grand total of 41,639.0625 days. This divided by 72 plus 42 or 114 divisions is 365.2549342 days, the Earth solar year. The Babylonians knew that after 114 luni-solar years in a certain sequence of regular and pregnant, they could start all over again and the seasons and the Sun would still be in sync with the Ark system.

The Moon was the key to determining when to start all over again. The Moon follows a winding course through the skies, but returns to the exact same zenith and apogee or perigee once every 18 years. This is called the "draconitic period" of the Moon, so-named because of the Moon’s winding course. All the Babylonians had to do was set up a stone marker when the Moon was at its zenith, marking its place in the sky, and then wait for the Moon to return to that marker.

This stone marked the end of a "two plus one" sequence of regular and embolistic years. The months went as two regular years, followed by 1 pregnant year, six times. That’s 3 years (2 plus 1) times 6, or 18 years. This comes out to 12 times 354.375 days, or 4252.5 days; plus 6 times 383.90625 days, or 2303.4375 days, for a grand total of 6555.9375 days.

Over this time the Moon had moved in a special band all its own, over 240 divisions. Thus the Moon’s sidereal period could be calculated as 6555.9375 days divided by 240, which gives a lunar period of 27.31640625 days. After 6555.9375 days the Babylonians knew that the Moon had made a full circuit of the Earth, and they could add the nineteenth year (a pregnant one, making two pregnant years in a row) to complete the cycle. This resulted in 12 regular years and 7 embolistic years. Recall that 12 years times 6 is 72 divisions, and 7 years times 6 is 42 divisions, which is 114 luni-solar years.

A historical anecdote is that every luni-solar month in Babylon had special days on sevens, corresponding to the lunar cycle, but also nineteen days after the new moon the "offended goddess" was appeased, this also being a special day. This was a reminder of the nineteenth year ushered in by the completion of the lunar cycle of eighteen years.

Of course the Moon would start the next cycle one embolistic year too short, but the months were all that mattered and only the priests had to worry about sliding scales and counting backwards. The draconitic period slips back over the solar cycle over 342 years, which is a period of 18 times 19 years, or 3 luni-solar periods of 114 years each.

12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 [13]
12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
13 12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
12 12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
12 13 12 12 13 12 12 13
13 12 12 13 12 12 13
12 12 13 12 12 13
12 13 12 12 13
13 12 12 13
12 12 13
12 13
13

The draconitic period is exactly 222 luni-solar months of 29.53125 days each. This is 12 years times 12 months, or 144 months; plus 6 six years times 13 months, or 78 months, making 222 months. Notice that 222 luni-solar months divided by 18 years is 12.33 (repeating) luni-solar months per luni-solar year which describes the lunar year. This is because the ratio of 12 months (12 of them) to 13 months (6 of them) is two-to-one for the lunar count. The average of 12, 12, and 13 is 12.33 (repeating).

Nobody knows if the ancient Babylonians knew about the precession of equinoxes, but it seems to be a natural product of the Gilgamesh Ark system. The solar "matching period" of 114 luni-solar "years" is 42 times 13 months, or 546 months; plus 72 times 12 months, or 864 months. The total is 1410 months of 29.53125 days each. The luni-solar period for the Sun times the luni-solar period for the Moon is 1410 months times 222 months or 313,020 luni-solar months. This times 29.53125 days per month is 9,243,871.875 days.

When 9,243,871.875 days is divided by 6555.9375 days per draconitic period, this is 1410 multiples (the remaining solar count). Likewise, 9,243,871.875 days divided by 41,639.0625 days per solar period is 222 multiples (the remaining lunar count). But notice that 1410 times 18 years is 25,380 lunar luni-solar years; while 222 times 114 years is 25,308 solar luni-solar years. The difference between 25,380 and 25,308 is 72 years.

When 9,243,871.875 days (the common factor) is divided by 365.2549342 solar days, this is 25,308 solar years.

This value reflects the difference between 365.2549342 solar days, being a 12 to 7 ratio of months, i.e. 12.36842105 months times 29.53125 days; and 364.21875 lunar days in the luni-solar framework, being a 12 to 6 ratio of months, i.e. 12.33 (repeating) months times 29.53125 days. The lunar count of 364.21875 days divided by 27.31640625 lunar days is 13.33 (repeating) lunar months. However 365.2549342 is the correct solar value.

For the lunar period of 18 years, 25,380 years times 12.33 (repeating) months is 313,020 luni-solar months. For the solar period of 114 years, 25,308 years times 12.36842105 months is also 313,020 luni-solar months. The luni-solar framework is correctly 114 luni-solar years times 12.36842105 months, times 18 lunar years times 12.33 (repeating) months, or 313,020 luni-solar months.

Jupiter
The Babylonians were certainly aware of conjunctions of the Sun with Jupiter. They may have noticed that the conjunction took place about once every 400 days. Today this is called the Jupiter solar opposition period. The period of 400 days is a rough estimate. Did the Babylonians know enough to fine tune the value using the values from the Ark system?

The luni-solar month of 29.53125 days times 12 months is 354.375 days, being a regular year. The pregnant year is 29.53125 days times 13 months or 383.90625 days. The two-to-one ratio of regular to pregnant, times six, plus an additional pregnant year, gives the familiar product of (72 x 12 x 29.53125) + (42 x 13 x 29.53125) = 41,639.0625 days. By the same token, (72 x 12) + (42 x 13) = 1410 luni-solar months.

Recall that 72 = 12 x 6, while 42 = 7 x 6 – one more than two-to-one (12 to 6 + 1) for the pregnant part. Further, when the average value is taken by dividing 41,639.0625 by (72 + 42) we get the solar year of 365.2549342 days.

The complete cycle in days can be rephrased with the lunar equivalent. For example, the lunar count of 364.21875 days is to the precession value of 25,308 years, as the solar count of 365.2549342 days is to the alternate precession value of 25,380 years. The dividends are the same.

Using the same two-to-one ratio math, the lunar count is arrived at with the product of (72 x 12.33... x 29.53125) + (42 x 12.33... x 29.53125) = 41,520.9375 days, where 12.33 (repeating) is (12 + 12 + 13) / 3. And likewise, (72 x 12.33...) + (42 x 12.33...) = 1406 lunar months.

Any of these lunar results can be taken as a ratio with the respective solar results, to get a corrected Jupiter value. In other words, the Jupiter solar opposition time is a pure ratio of the solar cycle of the Ark, and the corresponding lunar cycle. Any of these numbers can be used, but perhaps the most straightforward formula is:

            (72 x 12.33... x 29.53125) + (42 x 12.33... x 29.53125)
400 x  ---------------------------------------------------------------------  =  398.8652481 days
                  (72 x 12 x 29.53125) + (42 x 13 x 29.53125)

The number 400 can therefore be thought of as a pure solar value, but from Earth we see that period as influenced by the nearby Moon, and thus the diminishment of the period. The rationale is simple: somewhere along the path from Jupiter to the Earth, there’s a slight diminishment of the final pregnant year from 13 luni-solar months to 12.33 (repeating) luni-solar months. That’s all it is. Babylonian bookkeeping!

 

Puerta del Sol (Gateway of the Sun) at Tiahuanacu, near the shore of Lake Titicaca, 4000 feet above sea level in the Andes mountains. This gate may be more than 2000 years old, and is carved from a massive stone slab. It was found in two pieces because of soil slippage over the centuries, but is now restored. The Tiwanaku civilization was based in Bolivia and Peru and later spread to parts of Chile and Argentina. By 1200 CE the culture had vanished.

References
Dalley, Stephanie, trans. Myths From Mesopatamia: Creation, The Flood, Gilgamesh, and Others, Oxford World Classics, Revised Edition 2000 [This is the most complete and literal translation of the Gilgamesh epic in the popular domain. The story dates to 2500 BCE. Early clay-tablet writings exist in fragmentary form from the early second millenium, but more complete copies (not all the same) date from the eighth and seventh centuries BCE. Because all the copies are incomplete and from different traditions, no master version of the epic can be established.]
O’Neil, W.M. Time and the Calendars, Sydney University Press, 1975


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