This is a retelling of Mesopotamian myths, as told by the eternal Utnapishtim to Sindbad the Sailor. Utnapishtim's story of a flood was an earlier version of that of Noah's Ark. After surviving the flood, Utnapishtim was granted eternal life and sent by the gods to Dilmun to live out his endless days.

A key part of the stories that Utnapishtim tells is the struggle for possession of the Tablet of Destinies. This is a nondescript tablet that actually contains the record of all destinies, good and bad. The one thing that the gods cannot abide is that they may become subject to the whims of chance, so possession of this tablet is vital for their future. Many of the stories concern the theft and return of the Tablet.

I enjoy mythological tales, and this made a nice change from the more common Greek, Roman and Norse myths.

I still count myself a newcomer to Calasso: despite having "The Marriage of Cupid and Psyche" on my list for quite some time, I started only with "The Book of All Books" earlier this year, based largely on Stephen Greenblatt's review in the New York Times. It was a sonorous work that told biblical tales—some more familiar than others—with a striking lack of condescension. At times, it appeared to sow difficulty on purpose, perhaps because difficulty tends commands respect, which in turn is the only way to approach the actual Book of all Books. Its familiarity, Calasso seemed to say, occludes our vision; to recover it one has to commit to an act of creative forgetting. Perhaps for that reason, his observations, or summations, felt so starkly original, so remarkably fresh.

“The Tablet of Destinies,” which succeeds “The Book of All Books,” is a much slimmer volume. Its subject is a synthesis of ancient Mesopotamian myth—again, some of it more familIar than the rest—except , this time, Calasso does his retelling through two characters, Utnapishtim and Sindbad. I cannot say how much of this retelling is Calasso’s invention, and it does not matter. What does is that Calasso, again, elevates the strangeness of myth, its resistance to mindless domestication. In doing so, and much as he did with the Bible, he recovers the otherworldly poetry of these stories, their grain, taste and smell—none of which we know anything about. It is much more of an accomplishment than it may seem: so much of popular fiction expends itself on barren, insipid retellings of myth, from this perspective or that. Nine times out of ten, it succeeds only in trivializing and sedating its sources. Calasso’s book—which only takes a few hours to read—is a far cry from this cycle of adopting and adapting, his voice, posthumous though it now is, that of a truly original thinker and story(re)teller.

— Many thanks to Farrar, Straus & Giroux for an ARC via NetGalley

A short- novella length- dialogue between Sinbad the Sailor and Utnapishtim on the island of Dilmun where Utnapishtim has been banished. This was unfamiliar territory for me and it didn't help that the writing is dense, very dense. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. I might not have finished but fans of mythology will no doubt relish it.

Roberto Calasso works his usual magic with mythology, this time with the Mesopotamian pantheon. First off, Calasso treats his subjects seriously, as Beings of great power and creation - not as curiosities or metaphors or objects of humor. Second, he does a wonderful job of weaving random myths and tales into a coherent narrative, anchored in a rough timeline.

In this book, he adds an extra layer to his account by having an intermediary - Utnapishtim of the Sumerian account of the Great Flood - act as the storyteller, in a series of conversations (really monologues) with a stranded Sindbad the Sailor. This adds a filter of a (near) human voice trying to make sense of his Gods' actions.

Everything by Calasso is worth reading, and this is no exception.

Roberto Calasso died almost a year ago at the age of 80. His 1988 book length essay, The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony, was described as a "complex and intellectually dazzling novel using ancient Greek mythology to explore the origins of Western thought'. Various of his other works explore the mythology and storytelling of and older cultures of the world. The Tablet of Destinies is narrative in style, that introduces Enlil, king of the gods, and boat builder/animal rescuer Utnapishtim in a story that parallels Noah and the flood but arrives at a very different outcome. Anyone drawn to the charm of myth will enjoy this short volume and may want to delve into Calasso's other works.

Calasso is an Italian writer I've managed to avoid for some time despite owning his two major works, The "Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony" and "Ka". Instead of reading those first, as I planned, I have NetGalley to thank for sending me an advance copy of a 'new'* Calasso book, which is going to be published in late July. This one is under 150 pages long but deals with myth as his other major works do. The whole book is a dialogue between Sinbad the Sailor and Utnapishtim on the island of Dilmun. The latter disobeyed the gods and was banished to the island, and his punishment, rather than death, was eternal life. That was several thousand years before Sinbad arrives, and Utnapishtim finally has someone to talk to. And talk he does.

The mythology in the book was almost entirely unknown to me, mostly around Ea, the Sumerian god of water, creation and knowledge. His son features. As does the construction of Babylon, the Anunnaki in general, and Gilgamesh. Utnapishtim's monologue tells a number of old myths in a very simple style over the course of ten small chapters. Sinbad occasionally interrupts or has something to say himself, but a majority of the text is Utnapishtim's own monologue. Below are some examples of the prose and some of the highlights/interesting ideas from the book. Starting with the description of the Underworld from Utnapishtim.
"More than Babylon or Eridu, it was the Underworld that was the Great City. Walking through it, one came across one palace after another. Some said: 'This is Nergal's palace, this is Ereshkigal's.' But there were others, too, palaces of minor gods, Hushbisha, Dimpimeku, Ninazimue. There were temples, too, and towers. Darkness was constant, except when Utu, the Sun, made a brief visit to pass judgement. The inhabitants wandered in the dust, dressed in feathers down to their feet, like birds that cannot fly. They ate clay."

One interesting idea was Utnapishtim describing how once all humans spoke the same language, but 'understood one another too much. There were endless fallings out. Even more dangerous though, where the moments when they reached a sudden agreement.' So, Ea 'multiplied the tongues of men',
"At first bewilderment and confusion ran riot. Then people began to split up and withdraw into different regions, well protected from one another. A dim veil came down on each of these places. But the veil could be torn open by curiosity and study."

But the gods were not sure if they were '"more or less happy than before"', "'They kept their eyes mainly on whatever was close to them, wanting to possess it forever."'
The price tag seems a little steep for such a short book but I recommend it to anyone who enjoys reading about myths, these are not the sorts of stories you read often. I had certainly never read about Utnapishtim and Ea and all the Anunnaki.

Goodreads review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/4765110856