and Akkadian. Interpretation of the lists requires knowledge of the context (semantic,
phonological or otherwise) in which the correspondence was valid; such information
was not usually committed to writing. What the Akkadian equivalents provide is,
therefore, a partial correspondence; in some circumstances, Sumerian word acould
be used where Akkadian would use word x, or vice versa. In other circumstances,
other words would have to be used. Occasionally the later texts may add a comment
such as ‘as in x’. But we are not told whether this means ‘as for example in x’ or
‘only in x’.
The situation is further complicated by the concise formulation of the lists, especially
in earlier periods. The relationship between the Sumerian and Akkadian columns is
not always a simple one-to-one pairing. For example, text written in the format:
Sumerian term 1 Akkadian term 1
Sumerian term 2 Akkadian term 2might indicate that there are two different words, each with a different translation,
or might conceal something more complicated. For instance, one of the words may
be a valid translation of either of the opposing terms and the other not, or both sets
may be interchangeable. Added to this is the problem of partial equations mentioned
above.
The nature of our sources is also a significant factor. Most are school texts, the by-
products of inexperienced scribes learning their trade. Thus the sources can contain
mistakes or poorly written signs, and often can be in very poor physical condition,
making them difficult to read. They survive only accidentally. They were produced
during a learning process which focused on internalisation of knowledge. Once written
(and presumably checked), they no longer served a purpose and would be disposed
of. Usually they would be returned to the store of clay found in the bins of the
courtyards that served as scribal schools, there to be recycled into new practice tablets.
Occasionally tablets could be used as building rubble,^13 as is well exemplified by the
famous House F in Nippur. There, hundreds of tablets were found in the floors and
walls, and yet more were found made into a bench. In the case of sudden disruption,
tablets could survive. An example of this is the house of Ur-Utu in Tell ed-Der,
which caught fire and was abandoned. In and around the recycling bin were found
a small number of school exercises.
To modern eyes, lists of words or signs can seem rather primitive and mundane,
and certainly not very interesting. To the Babylonian scribe, lists were held in high
esteem. They served as a vehicle for much of the vast cultural–intellectual heritage
of the Ancient Near Eastern world. There were many different kinds of list, with a
variety of uses. They were highly flexible devices, capable of holding large quantities
of information in a very concise form. They could also be highly complex devices.
Part of the meaning could be contained in the ordering and grouping of entries and
in the interaction between the parallel columns of information. The simple appearance
of the Babylonian lists hides a sophistication that we are only gradually beginning
to appreciate. They are neither an unthinking aggregation of material nor a hopelessly
complicated store into which data were put with little hope of retrieval. While the
lists do contain some schoolboy errors and errors of transmission, it is becoming clear
— Jon Taylor —