“Who
are you, traveler? Where do you come
from?”
I
had thought I would invent a name for myself; but suddenly there seemed no
reason to do that. “I am Gilgamesh,” I
said, and waited for her to laugh in my face, as one might do if I had said, “I
am Enlil” or “I am An the Sky-father.”
But she did not laugh. She looked
at me long and close, frowning. I felt
the presence of her, strong and warm and good.
I said after a moment, “Do you know of me?”
“Everyone knows the name of Gilgamesh.”
“And is Gilgamesh a murderer?”
“He is king in Uruk. Kings have
bloody hands.”
(from Gilgamesh
The King by Robert Silverberg)
6*/10. The
complete review is here.
.
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