Nanshe, Lady of Dreams, was the high-ranking, widely worshipped Sumerian goddess of morals, ethics and social justice, and also springs and waterways (her daddy gave her dominion over the Persian Gulf and his sea shrine), dreams and prophecies, protection and safety. At the New Year, she judged each person, a job she may have gotten through nepotism since Daddy was Enki, Lord of Wisdom. She was much loved because she showed compassion toward the weak, widows and orphans, and the poor. In her temple at Sirara, she fed and sheltered those in hardship, but she would not help the ungrateful, the arrogant, or the tactless. She was popular with priests because she was a divine prophet who shared with them the ability to prophesy and interpret dreams (oneiromancy) after they went through a life-death-rebirth descent-into-the-pit ritual to honor her. Her symbol was the vessel of water with a fish in it, signifying the pregnant womb, so she was also a goddess of fertility, born out in the myth of the birth of her heroic son. Basically, she was the Mesopotamian Multi-tasker. She was close to her sister Nidaba who acted as her chief scribe; her high priest Hendurdag, who was Lord of Judgment; and of course her consort, Nindara, a Sumerian god whose main duty appears to have been marrying Nanshe.

Nanshe was a responsible, hardworking goddess whose only wish was to care for and guard her people, but she was also a woman, and once in her life she was swept away by passion when she saw the great hero-king Lugal-sumu-si in battle, strong and tall (“lugal” is the Sumerian word for king and literally means “big man,” the antecedent to “ya big lug”), with hooded eyes, a square jaw, and broad shoulders, fighting savagely with the strength of ten. Although she longed for him, she was the goddess of morals and ethics and knew that the one rule of seduction of heroes was “not during the game,” so unlike Ishtar with her tragic decision to hit on Gilgamesh during battle, Nanshe bided her time and then went to Lugal’s tent that night when the battle was done, disguised as a serving wench. (What is it with serving wenches, anyway?) There, as she tended his wounds, he was grateful and tactful, which sealed the deal. (Humble was too much to ask for.) After a night of multiply-orgasmic passion, Nanshe woke to greet the dawn, only to hear Lugal order her to fetch his breakfast. Forgetting that she had appeared to him as a serving wench, Nanshe rose from the sheets, transformed by the blue-glow of her goddess-hood, and said, “Sp tjat, you big lug!” Lugal threw himself on his knees and begged her to stay, but although Nanshe was tempted, she returned to her responsibilities.

Nanshe returned to her sea temple, only to discover that she was with child. Nindara was not pleased, but there was nothing he could do about it since he’d married power and didn’t have so much as a lightning bolt of his own to hurl in his annoyance, plus he knew better than to be ungrateful, arrogant, or tactless. Still, when Nanshe gave birth to a beautiful, Lugal-sized baby boy she named Sumu after his father, she knew that the boy’s presence would cause much grief within her household (Nindara was a pouter), so she took the child north, to her sister’s high priest, Milki-la-el, who fostered the child while he invented mathematics.

Nanshe proudly watched Sumu-la-el grow to be a fine demi-god, guided by the scrupulously fair Milki and encouraged by drive-by visits from the great Lugal. Nanshe was less than happy with her grown son’s choice of lovers, the goddess of love and life Kammani-Gula who was a high maintenance date—Nanshe felt it was asking too much that Sumu actually die horribly during the ritual since her own priests just had to spend some quality time in a big, dark hole–but in all other things, Sumu-la-el was everything a mother could hope for: grateful, humble, tactful, and employed (King of Kanesh, slayer of demons, dying-god sacrifice, hero etc. etc.). The great tragedy of Nanshe was the disappearance of Sumu-la-el after Kammani-Gula’s last sacrifice, as Kammani sank into nothingness and took the great king with her. “All I ever wanted,” Nanshe is known to have told Nidaba, “was for him to find a nice girl and settle down,” which became part of her most popular hymn:

She is concerned for the orphan and concerned for the widow.
She does not forget the man who helps others.
She is a mother for the orphan; Nanshe, a carer for the widow,
who always finds advice for the debt-slave;
the lady who gives protection for refugees.
She seeks out a place for the weak.
For the righteous maiden who has taken her path,
Nanshe chooses a young man of means.
Nanshe raises a secure house like a roof over the widow who could not remarry.
All she ever wanted was for her son to find a nice girl and settle down.