“This Is Not a Myth, Part 2”: A Review of The Atrahasis Epic: A Sumerian Tale of Irrigation, Floods, & the Creation of Man by Ken Goudsward

 

(Dimensionfold Publishing, 2023). ISBN: 978-1-989940-84-6

As part of my decades-long research into both mythology and UFOlogy, I have long been interested in the Mesopotamian creation and flood stories, including the cultures of the Mesopotamian region—the Assyrians, Sumerians, Babylonians, and Akkadians that set them into stone. The theories of Zecharia Sitchin are particularly appealing, related as they are to The Epic of Gilgamesh and the idea of interstellar travelers called the Annunaki coming to Earth and being mistaken for gods. Instinctually, this has always felt “right” to me.

As I have come to know the polymath Ken Goudsward over the past six months, I have an ever-increasing appreciation and respect for his scholarship and theories. He is a serious, dedicated researcher and author who tells it as he sees it, as demonstrated in his commentary for his book with Barbara M. DeLong, Before Roswell: The Secret History of UFOs, a reference guide I use at least once a week.

When he sent me his analysis and interpretations of The Atrahasis Epic (and soon after its prequel, Enuma Elish, which I am currently reading), I was excited to dive in and see what he had to say and how it would extend and inflect my previous research. I was amazed at all this 95-page book has to offer.

It begins with an Introduction, laying out the cultural and political history of the time in which The Atrahasis Epic was written, somewhere between 1647 and 1626 BC. Like Enuma Elish, it is referenced in The Epic of Gilgamesh, written roughly 450 years later. Readers will also learn about the first translations in the 1880s and 1890s, on which Goudsward’s English text relies.

The translated text and commentary format is easy to follow. Original text is in italics and clearly indicates where fragments have been lost or are unreadable.

In line with Sitchin’s theories, the story revolves around what can be interpreted as slavery—higher gods [note the use of lowercase; you could easily insert “non-terrestrial higher intelligences”] overseeing the manual labor of first lower gods and then humans. As one would expect, these higher gods are organized into various departments (engineering, military, agriculture, biotech), under the direction and rule of King Anu, from whom the word Annunaki derives (at least in part).

The lower gods are called the Igigi. They do the work required, but they do not do it well. Simultaneously, General Ellil leads a campaign to take ownership of Earth—from whom remains a mystery. His brother Enki leads the science and tech division. Uh oh… nothing good is ever produced when the military shares a bunkbed with science and tech…

A good deal of the work the Igigi are doing is the digging of canals. This is important… remember that this is a flood narrative. Yes, THAT flood. THE flood… Or, at least the most famous of the floods. Back to the canals… This is a 3,000-year-long project, and the pay and benefits must suck, because the Igigi start complaining—and setting fire to their tools.

Not unlike the daydreams and night plans of the Big Six studios to replace the striking actors and recently striking writers in America with AI (or Reagan firing all of the air traffic controllers in the 1980s), the Annunaki decide to replace the Igigi. To do so, Enki teams up with someone called Nintu, enters his biogenetic workspace, and, through an elaborate ritual of man-from-clay (and spit), a brand new labor force is made—the Lulu, who seem a lot like humans.

This aligns with Sitchin et al.’s theory that the Annunaki altered human DNA to creator a labor force (remember the spit?). Goudsward’s extensive commentary is essential to understanding the case for the existence of ancient biotech and in making corrections to previous, and erroneous, interpretations.     

Now the Lulu get to work on the ditches and canals in the desert—and they excel! Agriculture happens. I bet this is starting to sound familiar. Ancient Mesopotamia… cradle of civilization? Soon will come the Egyptians, who also align with this story.

Nothing, however, can last. After 600 years, the Annunaki are no longer enamored of the Lulu. They actually despise them. Re-enter General Ellil and a plan to “plague” them out of existence.

It is here, about two-thirds of the way through the book, that we meet the Atrahasis of the title, and the story becomes a musical (the lyrics of which Goudsward breaks down in a table). We also flash-forward another 600 years. Little has changed. The Lulu are still annoying the Annunaki, who punish them with drought (echoing theories of modern military weather manipulation), which brings with it all of the deadly diseases that prey on malnutrition. As the Lulu resort to cannibalism, Ellil and Enki begin to fight, and torrential rains arrive. Enki, who is rooting for his creations, instructs Atrahasis to build a boat for his family (along with other echoes of Noah) ahead of the coming flood.

At this point, Goudsward gives us some background on sea-level rise and the area’s geography, complete with a pair of maps and a graph. If you are familiar with the work of Graham Hancock, this information is at that level, and very compelling (e.g., 12,000 years ago, the Persian Gulf did not exist). Using these data, Goudsward offers approximate years for the dam project and the flood.

I don’t want to spoil the ending. You’ll have to read the outcome for yourself. And be sure to read Enuma Elish as well. I’ll be reviewing it soon.