There Are Rivers in the Sky

by Elif Shafak

In the end, perhaps what separates one individual from another is not talent but passion. And what is passion if not a restlessness of the heart, an intense yearning to surpass your limits, like a river overflowing its banks? Gilgamesh, the cruel and arrogant king who embarked on journeys, experienced loss and defeat, and learnt humility. Ashurbanipal, the remorseless and cultured king, prided himself on his magnificent capital, palace and library, all of which were razed to the ground. And he, Arthur, King of the Sewers and Slums, so named by a band of good-hearted toshers, miles away from home, has lost the certainty of his convictions. Tears well up in his eyes. He would have liked to have been a better father to his children, to have spent more time with them, to have seen them grow up. His wife deserved a better husband. There is an immense loneliness in his heart, where there should have been intimacy. He carries within him desires suppressed, secrets withheld. Love is a puzzle in cuneiform, one he has not been able to solve. In truth, he has always been happiest when working on an ancient tablet. With a clarity that is almost painful, he recognizes that only when studying the past has he felt at home, only when sorting broken shards