Partying like it's 2100 BC
Notes from an ancient Mesopotamian night out.
Last Thursday I had an old-fashioned night out. What sort of old-fashioned? A decadent 1920s bash? Older. An early 1800s Regency-era garden party? Older. A medieval ale-drinking and Morris dancing party? OLDER. We’re talking a 2100 BC Sumerian-style night out.
So what did the cool people do back in ancient Mesopotamia? And why did I, a random 35-year-old backgammon-playing, butternut-squash-fearing woman, decide to emulate them?
For one, I quite enjoy old stuff (1,000-year-old bread, anyone?). And two, I wanted to try something new (ironically, by doing something old).
Here’s my ancient night out in four phases.
Phase 1: Theatre
The night started with a visit to the theatre, where one guy stood on stage reciting The Epic of Gilgamesh for two hours. At over 4,000 years old, it’s possibly one of the first stories to have ever been written down. Here’s part of the clay tablet containing the story (which lives in London’s British Museum):

It’s about King Gilgamesh and a so-called ‘wild man’, Enkidu. Their heart-warming bromance leads to a series of events and journeys that change Gilgamesh as a person. Here’s him fighting a lion, or possibly cuddling it (jury’s out on that one):

And here’s Enkidu. It looks like he’s just chilling out in this one, but equally he might be gearing up to slap a demon.

Before you assume this is simply wholesome, Hallmark-style drivel, please note that in 2100 BC, next to nothing was wholesome. Sure, you have a couple of guys who are good buddies. But there’s also a generous helping of violence, sex and - most of all, existential philosophy. Plus, Gilgamesh is an arrogant asshat. Without giving away spoilers, I’ll just say the story is fun, fast-paced and wise. Sadly, nobody knows who the author is.
I first heard it on the Myths and Legends podcast back in 2017. The American-accented narrator had a dryly humorous style, and I got hooked on the podcast for a while. Gilgamesh was my gateway epic to ancient stories from around the world, and helped me appreciate the art of oral storytelling.
Then last week, on Phase 1 of my Sumerian night out, my friend and I squashed ourselves into a packed theatre in Hoxton, London, to watch the live, two-hour recital. Clad in a nondescript, 21st century shirt and trousers, the storyteller used his voice and face to masterfully transport us into another era. I knew the story, but still hung on to every word.
Phase 2: Music
Afterwards, I wasn’t ready to return to the current millennium. I discovered a stunning rendition of the opening lines of Gilgamesh, sung in the original Sumerian language and played on an ancient lute. Dreamy stuff.
Phase 3: Comedy
Next, I discovered that the cool Mesopotamians were also into jokes - especially of the ‘walks into a bar’ variety. For example, ‘A dog entered into a tavern and said, 'I cannot see anything. I shall open this'. That joke is an absolute classic. Honestly, I’ve heard better.
Phase 4: Dispute with sketchy copper merchant
I wasn’t ready for the night to end so I decided to see what shops were still open. Very few, it turned out, but then I happened upon a copper shop run by one Ea-Nasir. The reviews on Google Maps were a bit mixed: one happy customer said “Nasir’s copper is the finest on this side of the Euphrates.“ whereas another wrote “Bad copper and refused refund. DO NOT BUY“. This one is particularly damning:

Sending copper that is not fine quality, treating messengers with contempt, sending them through enemy territory? Yikes. Rude!
Although the evening ended on a sour note, I’m glad I read the reviews before investing my hard-earned silver and sesame oil on substandard copper.
…
Back home in the 21st century, I reflected on my evening. In a world of colourful, overstimulating TV shows and movies, I often forget that one of the original ways of engaging with stories is just by listening to someone tell them. Whether around a campsite, at bedtime or as an audiobook, we can still feel comforted getting cosy, closing our eyes and listening to a soothing voice. Just like the cool kids did 4,000 years ago.
