The bulk of my readers, I assume, have made their peace with eventually being forgotten after their death. Because most of us will seldom be remembered after all that knew us have perished in turn. But one would expect that this could not be the fate of gods! After all, they have regularly amassed lots and lots of followers and their worship was often institutionalized. But even gods tend to be forgotten, be it after a shorter or a longer while. And nowadays many of them only figure in later reconstructions of past religions.¹ In this new series, I want to introduce a few of these forgotten gods and through them illustrate some interesting aspects of ancient religious history, practices, and beliefs. This week, we survey the life and times of a deity from ancient west-Asia: NinSimug.

And this is no easy task, at all. Because there are still scholarly discussions on the material mentioning NinSimug. Luckily, these discussion only pertain to marginal questions. Like, did a god with this name actually exist? Can they be coded male or female? And how does one even read ancient texts? Today, let us therefore look at the case for a separate god which we may designate with the name NinSimug and ruminate about the scholarly reasons to challenge their existence.

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The Name NinSimug

The fundamental problem that plagues any certainty about the existence of NinSimug, is that their very name is often thought to have been just another way of writing about the god Ninagal.² And this hypothesis is relevant for this deity’s actual existence, as we primarily know about NinSimug from textual evidence. Though this theory could be challenged if we were to meet both deities side by side in the same text. And this does happen, as you will see! But to untie this impressively complicated knot, we first need to take look at the manner in which the name NinSimug is written.

In order to know if we can differentiate a deity called NinSimug from one designated as Ninagal, we have to return to the cuneiform writing system, which we already encountered in previous blogs. The name ‘NinSimug’ used to be written with cuneiform signs and is a rather straightforward representation of two cuneiform signs: NIN and SIMUG. These two signs were oftentimes preceded by the sign that could denote divinity, DIĜIR (𒀭), which we today not always indicate in our translations.³ As you recall, the intricate signs making up the cuneiform writing system could be read as entire words, the syllables that make up phonologically spelled words, and – like we just saw with the sign DIĜIR – as an indication of the meaning of a nearby word.⁴ Most importantly for our purpose today is that cuneiform signs could, among other languages, represent words in Sumerian and Akkadian, as well as spell words in these two ancient tongues. And both signs that interest us at the moment, NIN and SIMUG, are a testament to the versatility of this script.

The name ‘NinSimug’ probably belonged to a god of smithing, if there was indeed such an independently existing god. The sign SIMUG (𒌣) can be read as the eponymous Sumerian word for ‘metal-sculptor’ or ‘smith’, after all.⁵ But there is more under the surface than you would expect at first glance. And this has to do with the other sign – and syllable! – that makes up the name of NinSimug: NIN.

The sign NIN (𒎏) can be connected to the Sumerian word nin, which was used to indicate female rulers.⁶ It even seems that the sign itself was once a ligature. That is, a combination of other signs. In this case the sign MUNUS (𒊩), roughly meaning something like ‘(young) woman’, was combined with the sign TUG₂ (𒌆), which is thought to have represented a Sumerian word for cloth or clothing.⁷ Having said that, and perhaps counter-intuitive when considering the foregoing, the sign NIN is regularly part of the name of male deities. Something we can establish, for instance, when such gods are introduced as the husbands of goddesses!⁸ As such, the sign NIN can be considered to also indicate divinity or divine descent, regardless of the gender of the deity in question.⁹ Including the divinity or divine descent of the god Ningirsu, whom we met in our discussion of the Anzû Epic. As such, it is not illogical to presume that NinSimug was a male deity whose domain was the smithy. And this brings us to the root cause of our conundrum whether this combination of the signs NIN and SIMUG was just a different way to write the name of another god associated with the smithy: Ninagal.

Ninagal and NinSimug

Who then is this Ninagal? He was, in the first place, a god who we have attested far more often than our hypothetical deity NinSimug and about whom we appear to know a lot more. We deal here with a smithing god who is denoted as such in several ancient texts over a long period of time.¹⁰ And this includes famous myths, like Erra and Išum – a tale which frankly deserves its own blog.¹¹ His wife, coincidentally, was called NinInim, which shows us the again the fluid meaning of the sign NIN.¹² And though we find his name spelled as such in many of the mentions I just referred to, we see that already in ancient times people thought that the name of this god could be written in various ways.

These variant spellings reference the function of the god and include simply the sign SIMUG on its own and the previously explained combination of the signs NIN and SIMUG. And in several ancient lists that lay out god names and their various spellings, we are told that the signs NIN and SIMUG are indeed a variant spelling to denote Ninagal.¹³ But both the name Simug and the name NinSimug are thought by modern scholars to have sometimes denoted different deities at various times.¹⁴ As mentioned above – and in spite of the neat solution found in the aforementioned god lists – there is at least one instance where the names Ninagal and NinSimug appear side by side.

Side by Side

The most straightforward and uncontroversial place where Ninagal and NinSimug appear close by in the same text and could thus be interpreted as different deities, is a creation myth which is today known as “The First Brick” and that was contained within the incantation Enuma Danu Ibnû Šamê.¹⁵ This is an Akkadian composition that is found in several versions throughout ancient Iraq towards the second half of the first millennium BCE. And in this text – be prepared to be surprised – we learn about the circumstances necessary for the molding of the first brick.¹⁶ Ninagal and NinSimug are mentioned as gods created by another god, one Ea, to fashion and suitably worship the first brick. As the precise wording is the crux of our mystery today, I give you the original text that is transliterated from the cuneiform script in addition – of course – to the translation:¹⁷

I.26  ^de₂-a ina apsî ik-ru-ṣa ṭi-ṭa-[am]
I.27  ib-ni ^dkulla ana te-diš-ti-[ki]
I.28  ib-ni ^gišapa(gi) u ^gišqīšta ana ši-pir nab-ni-t[i-ki]
I.29  ib-ni ^dnin-ildú ^dnin-SIMUG u ^da-ra-zu ana mu-šak-lil ši-pir na[b-ni-ti-ki]
I.30  ib-ni ša-di-i u ta-ma-a-ti ana mim-ma šum-šu du-u[š-šá-a]
I.31  ib-ni ^dguškin-ban₃-da ^dnin-a₂-gal ^dnin-zadim u ^dnin-kur-ra ana ep-še-t[i-ki] […]
I.32  u₃ ḫi-ṣib-šu-nu du-uš-ša₂-a ana nin-da-be₂-ki ra-bu-ti […]

I.26  Ea nipped off cla[y] from the Apsû.
I.27  He created Kulla to renovate [you]
I.28  He created reed bed and forest for the task of [your] creation
I.29  He created Ninildu, NinSimug and Arazu to be those who perform the task of [your creation]
I.30  He created mountains and seas to make all things [abound]
I.31  He created Guškinbanda, Ninagal, Ninzadim and Ninkurra to […] [your] rituals
I.32  And to make their wealth abound for your great food-offerings […]

As you have seen, Ninagal and NinSimug appear a mere two lines from one another. NinSimug joins the group of gods that creates the first brick, while Ninagal and his companions fashion luxury items for the rituals surrounding the worship of the first brick.¹⁸ Does this indicate that these deities are, at least with regard to the composer or composers of this specific text, two separate entities?

Detailing the Deities

The Assyriologist Frank Simons offers us two solutions. His first approach is the most simple one: For the purpose of this text we do indeed deal with two different deities. But there is also a more intriguing road we could travel according to Simons. The two groups of gods in line 29 and line 31 conduct two very different tasks which involve separate skills pertaining to metal working. Could it be that Ninagal is indicated with one of the known different spellings of his name in line 29, because another aspect of his domain is highlighted?¹⁹ This would explain why the name Ninsimug featured in the aforementioned lists with god names as a variant spelling for Ninagal and why that hypothetical deity’s presence in the texts that have survived to our times is so ephemeral. But this solution is not without its drawbacks. For instance, the other gods in the two groups are, with a large degree of certainty – as far as I could ascertain, that is – separate entities and not just various names for the same deities.²⁰ That NinSimug is just another way to write Ninagal would therefore not fit the pattern present in this part of our text. But this would also not be unheard of with regard to the conception and construction of the supernatural that we find in similar texts from ancient West-Asia.²¹

It may ultimately be impossible to find a definitive answer to our question today, because of the state of our evidence. Even though there are hundreds of thousands of fragments of clay tablets still in existence, we have but a fraction of the lore surrounding the ancient West-Asian gods at our disposal. Most what was once written down – or never made it into writing! – has been lost to us.²² It might very well be that there used to be a god who was called NinSimug and featured as themselves in many rituals and myths. And that is was only in certain delineated instances or in some time periods that he was equated with Ninagal. But this is not the story our current evidence tells us.

Conclusion: How to Read Ancient Texts?

And this leaves us with an unsettling matter: how much can we say about antiquity when looking at the texts that have come down to us? As it is, ancient authors often present us with mere snapshots of a certain time and place, regularly rely on then presumptions that we as yet do not understand, and may contain errors that we are not aware of or identify wrongly.²³ We do know some things for certain – or at least with some degree of certainty, as alluded to above. Like that it would not be unheard of that an ancient West-Asian god appears multiple times in a text under various names.²⁴ But these slightly more solid notions do not help us to answer all the other questions we still have. Including those about the existence of a deity called NinSimug separate from the well-known god Ninagal.

And this is perhaps why it remains so rewarding to pry at the loose ends of our knowledge about past worlds, be it ancient West-Asia or elsewhere.²⁵ Because we may not have achieved certainty about the existence of NinSimug, but by trawling through the available clues we have learned a lot today regarding the deities, writing systems, and rituals of long lost societies. And next time we will expand our knowledge even further, I’d wager!

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References

1. Or they continue to exist through other cultural and religious frameworks, see: Michael Stausberg, “Introduction: The Demise of Religions – Or Do Religions End?”, in: Michael Stausberg, Carole M. Cusack & Stuart A. Wright (eds.), The Demise of Religion: How Religions End, Die or Dissipate (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2020), p. 1-6.
2. Wilfred G. Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2013). p. 378. See for example: Antoine Cavigneaux & Manfred Krebernik, “Nin-Agala”, in: Dietz Otto Edzard, Erich Ebeling, Ernst F. Weidner, Michael P. Streck (eds.), Reallexikon der Assyriologie – Band 9: Nab – Nuzi (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1998-2001), p. 325-326; Antoine Cavigneaux & Manfred Krebernik, “^d(NIN).SIMUG”, in: Dietz Otto Edzard, Erich Ebeling, Ernst F. Weidner, Michael P. Streck (eds.), Reallexikon der Assyriologie – Band 9: Nab – Nuzi (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1998-2001), p. 489.
3. Andreas Fuls, “Classifying Undeciphered Writing Systems”, Historische Sprachforschung/Historical Linguistics 2015, 128 (1), p. 43; Christopher Woods, “The Emergence of Cuneiform Writing”, in: Rebecca Hasselbach-Andee (ed.), A Companion to Ancient Near Eastern Languages (Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, 2020), p. 35-36; Rykle Borger, Mesopotamisches Zeichenlexikon (Münster: Ugarit Verlag, 2003), p. 49-50; Catherine Mittenmayer, Altbabylonische Zeichenliste der Sumerisch-Literarischen Texte (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck, Ruprecht, 2006), p. 5-6.
4. Woods, “The Emergence of Cuneiform Writing”, p. 36, 39.
5. John A. Halloran, Sumerian Lexicon: A Dictionary Guide to the Ancient Sumerian Language (Los Angeles: Logogram Publishing, 2006), p. 235. Though note that the main reading of this sign is considered do be DE₂, see: Borger, Mesopotamisches Zeichenlexikon, p. 147; Mittenmayer, Altbabylonische Zeichenliste der Sumerisch-Literarischen Texte, p. 85.
6. Borger, Mesopotamisches Zeichenlexikon, p. 225-226; Halloran, Sumerian Lexicon, p. 205.
7. Mittenmayer, Altbabylonische Zeichenliste der Sumerisch-Literarischen Texte, p. 180; Halloran, Sumerian Lexicon, p. 279. These signs are also read as respectively SAL and NAM₂, see: Borger, Mesopotamisches Zeichenlexikon, p. 206, 221-223.
8. The god NinSikila, for example, see: Antoine Cavigneaux & Manfred Krebernik, “Nin-Sikila”, in: Dietz Otto Edzard, Erich Ebeling, Ernst F. Weidner, Michael P. Streck (eds.), Reallexikon der Assyriologie – Band 9: Nab – Nuzi (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1998-2001), p. 489; Julia Maria Asher-Greve & Joan Goodnick Westenholz, Goddesses in Context: On Divine Powers, Roles, Relationships and Gender in Mesopotamian Textual and Visual Sources (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013), p. 18, note 46.
9. Asher-Greve & Westenholz, Goddesses in Context, p. 6-8. Other prominent explanations for male deities whose name contains the sign NIN or syllable ‘nin’ are that this was originally a neutral designation or even that some of these gods changed gender, see: Gebhard J. Selz, “Five Divine Ladies: Thoughts on Inana(k), Ištar, In(n)in(a), Annunītum, and Anat, and the Origin of the Title ‘Queen of Heaven’”, NIN: Journal of Near Eastern Gender Studies 2000, 1 (1), p. 39, note 2; Asher-Greve & Westenholz, Goddesses in Context, p. 18. And this ambiguity fits with the broader search for the meanings of gender and gender roles in ancient West-Asia, see: Judith Ochshorn, “Sumer: Gender, Gender Roles, Gender Role Reversals, in: Sabrina P. Ramet (ed.), Gender Reversals and Gender Cultures: Anthropological and Historical Perspectives (London: Routledge, 1996), p. 54.
10. Frank Simons, “The Goddess Kusu”, Revue d’Assyriologie et d’Archéologie Orientale 2018, 112 (1), p. 132; Cavigneaux & Manfred Krebernik, “Nin-Agala”, p. 325-326; Eckart Frahm, “The Great City: Nineveh in the Age of Sennacherib”, Journal of the Canadian Society for Mesopotamian 2008, 3 (1), p. 15.
11. Benjamin R. Foster, Before the Muses: An Anthology of Akkadian Literature (Bethesda: CDL press, 2005), p. 889.
12. Manfred Krebernik, “Nin-imin”, in: Dietz Otto Edzard, Erich Ebeling, Ernst F. Weidner, Michael P. Streck (eds.), Reallexikon der Assyriologie – Band 9: Nab – Nuzi (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1998-2001), p. 384.
13. Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths, p. 378. For an example of one such list, see: Wilfred G. Lambert, “29. Marginalia on MSL XV”, Nouvelles Assyriologiques Brèves et Utilitaires 2005, 19 (2), p. 33-34.
14. Cavigneaux & Krebernik, “^d(NIN).SIMUG”, p. 489.
15. Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths, p. 376-383; Simons, “The Goddess Kusu”, p. 133-134.
16. Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths, p. 376.
17. IM 11053/20 obverse column 1, Lines 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31 & 32. For the edition, transliteration, and translation, see: Franz Heinrich Weissbach, Babylonische Miscellen (Leipzig: J.C. Hinrich’sche Buchhandlung, 1903), p. 33; Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths, p. 380–81; Manfried Dietrich, “‘Als Anu Den Himmel Erschaffen Hatte…’: Rekurs auf das Schöpfungsgechehen Anlässlich einer Tempelrenovierung”, in: Joachim Marzahn, Hans Neumann, Andreas Fuchs & Joachim Oelsner (eds.), Assyriologica et Semitica: Festschrift Für Joachim Oelsner Anläßlich Seines 65. Geburtstages am 18. Februar 1997 (Münster: Ugarit Verlag, 2000), p. 33-46.
18. Simons, “The Goddess Kusu”, p. 134; Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths, p. 376.
19. Simons, “The Goddess Kusu”, p. 134.
20. Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths, p. 377-379.
21. Simons, “The Goddess Kusu”, p. 134. And the other gods mentioned here do appear together elsewhere, with NinSimug being the sole absentee, see: Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths, p. 377.
22. Alan Lenzi, An Introduction to Akkadian Literature: Contexts and Content (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2019), p. 29-33.
23. Philomen Probert, “Phonology”, in: Egbert J. Bakker (eds.), A Companion to the Ancient Greek Language (Malden: John Wiley & Sons, 2014), p. 85. With regard to ancient West-Asia specifically, see: Martin Worthington, Principles of Akkadian Textual Criticism (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2012), p. 1-4, 6-40; Lenzi, An Introduction to Akkadian Literature, p. 1-76.
24. Simons, “The Goddess Kusu”, p. 134. On the incongruetiy of ancient myths, specifically those from ancient West-Asia, see: Jack M. Sasson, “Time & Mortality: Creation Narratives in Ancient Israel and Mesopotamia”, in: Ettore Cingano & Lucio Milano (eds.), Papers On Ancient Literatures: Greece, Rome And The Near East (Padova: S.A.R.G.O.N. Editrice e Libreria, 2008), p. 490.
25. John H. Arnold, History: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), p. 122.