“Marduk had lost interest in ruling. He had given the other gods peace and quiet in return for their powers. No one complained save Nergal, the most inaccessible of gods, on his throne in the Underworld. When Nergal chose to be called Erra, he became fire and plague, darting across the earth and bringing devastation. Nothing could stop him. But this wasn’t enough. Erra was full of rancor. He felt his name wasn’t properly recognized. He watched Marduk idle on his throne, blank and grim, even though no one was opposing him. The time had come to show him that he, Erra, was still a real, untamed power.

“When he sensed Erra was close by, Marduk roused himself from his torpor. And decided to remind the other of his exploits. He didn’t even mention the most famous, the killing of Tiamat. Instead, with some effrontery, he spoke of having decreed the Flood, which wasn’t true. Then he recalled things he’d done that had changed the world and that people rarely mentioned. He had caused the Apkallu to disappear into the Apsu. They must never again be seen on earth. Knowledge would become invisible. Then he reminded Nergal of his most mysterious exploit: he had moved the tree mesu, that was called flesh of the gods, and had never revealed where he had put it. That tree was the emblem of the King of the World. In the beginning, it had stretched its roots for hundreds of miles in the Apsu and its crown rose to Anu’s heaven. Moving that tree had changed life forever. And no one would ever be able to take it back to where it had once been. Marduk was suggesting that even if Erra were to lay the entire world to waste, nothing essential would be changed. Whatever he did it wouldn’t have any effect on the flesh of the gods. As for men, there would always be a remnant, ready to pick up the same life and perform the same ceremonies all over again.

“Erra didn’t let this stop him. He wanted to show the gods that the rites were no use at all if he was causing havoc. He wouldn’t just kill men himself, they would kill one another. Circling like a hawk that draws nearer and nearer, Erra destroyed Sippar, the primordial city that even the Flood had spared. Then he destroyed Uruk, city of prostitutes and hierodules, dear to Ishtar and Anu. Finally, he came to Babylon, ready for the massacre. Then Marduk felt a pang in his heart and spoke words he had never spoken before. He said he had planted Babylon like a lush orchard but had never tasted its fruits. He said he had taken Babylon into his hands as he had taken up the Tablet of Destinies and he would not surrender it to anyone.

“But it was the counselor Ishum who prevented the calamity, interrupted it rather, as if it were something that had already happened. He told Erra he had already achieved all his goals. He had struck down the just and the unjust; he had killed girls in their beds and priests as they prepared offerings; he had pulled down sanctuaries. Never again would the gods look down on him. And so it was. The Igigi and the Anunnaki stared at him, daunted, petrified. Erra insisted he could devastate everything whenever he liked. If he hadn’t finished the job, it was only because the wise counselor, Ishum, had persuaded him to leave a remnant. The gods would have to make do with it. And this remnant included Babylon. But one day, Babylon, too, would be destroyed and the remnant would shift elsewhere.”