Enheduanna: First Named Author in History — Mesopotamian High Priestess of Inanna’s Hymns

Enheduanna, the first named author, evoked through a Mesopotamian priestess walking toward a ziggurat in the desert
A Mesopotamian priestess walking across the desert toward a distant ziggurat — an evocation of Enheduanna’s world.

From Ur’s ziggurats to Inanna’s hymns: Enheduanna, high priestess and the world’s first named author, speaks across four millennia.

Rediscovering a Name in Old Notes

In my many university notes, carefully kept over the years, a lot of archaeology, a lot of epigraphy, and anecdotes scribbled here and there are intertwined. Rereading them—or rather trying to decipher what I might have written, since I wrote fast and badly—I rediscovered a name, alone: Enheduanna, accompanied by this simple mention: “first author in the world.” And then, nothing more. Oblivion. This name, isolated like an island in an ocean of notes, seemed to be waiting for me to rediscover it, like a vestige asleep at the bottom of a millennia-old archive. The mystery surrounding it immediately sparked my curiosity: who was this forgotten figure, and why had her memory survived to me? In the history of writing, few names emerge from the mists of time with such clarity. The university had offered me so many anonymous figures—scribes, artisans, priests—but this one had a particular radiance. My mind began to imagine the tablets on which her name had been inscribed, marked with the seal of the oldest known literature. Thus a single word, hastily scribbled, became the starting point for a plunge into the dawn of humanity’s writing.

Back to Mesopotamia’s Dawn

Let us go back in time to that fascinating era, when the ancient Orient, in Mesopotamia—the place to be—dominated the world. In the obsessive heat of a blazing sun and under the eternal gaze of the ancient heavens, Mesopotamia spread out as a vast casket of nourishing land, where the Tigris and the Euphrates whispered age-old secrets to the cities of Sumer. It was in this grand and fertile setting that there was born, or at least illuminated for posterity, the first literary voice whose name has crossed the ages. This region, cradle of the first great civilizations, saw the birth of the first cities, law codes, and technical innovations. Temples and palaces, made of sun-dried mud bricks, rose like artificial mountains in the midst of the fertile plains. Scribes engraved on clay the deeds, hymns, and foundational narratives, ensuring the memory of men against the erosion of time. The air carried the mingled smells of barley fields, river mud, and incense burning in the sanctuaries. Caravans from distant horizons brought precious stones, rare wood, and spices, further enriching this cultural mosaic. It was at the heart of this world bubbling with innovations that the pen—or rather the reed stylus—of Enheduanna would leave an indelible mark.

A Singular Voice Signs Her Words

Beyond the anonymity of so many stories engraved on clay, a woman set humanity vibrating with her words, illuminating the darkness of the beginnings of writing with her refined pen: Enheduanna. Her name resounds like a challenge thrown at centuries of oblivion, a beacon in the night of history. She did not merely follow traditions: she shaped them, breathed a personal voice into them. In a world where the divine word was transmitted without a signature, she dared to make herself heard. Her texts, blending devotion and introspection, broke the rigid codes of religious writing. They bore within them the trace of a consciousness, an asserted “I” in the midst of collective hymns. Thus Enheduanna was not only a priestess: she was the first female author whom History chose to name.

Ur, Sargon, and the High Priestess

History tells us that at the heart of the sacred city of Ur, under the benevolent shadow of a ziggurat that seemed to brush the firmament, there lived a priestess whose soul, at once vulnerable and fierce, would leave its mark on the world of letters. Enheduanna was the daughter of Sargon of Akkad, the founder of the first known empire in history, the Akkadian Empire, which unified the Sumerian city-states under his rule in the 23rd century BCE. In a world where power and writing were generally held by men, her ascent is remarkable. Her father, aware of the importance of religious control in the unification of his empire, entrusted her with a key role: high priestess of the moon-god Nanna (Sin) in the main temple of Ur. The ziggurat of Ur, monumental, dominated the city like a bridge between earth and the gods. As Sargon’s daughter, she bore a double heritage: that of royal blood and that of the gods to whom she was consecrated. In Mesopotamia, religion was not merely a matter of faith: it was an instrument of power and political legitimation. To be high priestess meant directing rituals, administering the temple’s property, and influencing royal decisions. Priests and priestesses formed an educated elite, mastering writing and sacred sciences. Thus, from the outset, Enheduanna found herself at the crossroads of politics, religion, and culture.

Exile, Hymns, and Lasting Works

This appointment was not a mere honor: Enheduanna became a pillar of Akkadian power, charged with reconciling Sumerian and Akkadian traditions through religion. But this position did not spare her political turmoil. After Sargon’s death, a rebellion broke out in Ur, led by a certain Lugal-Ane, who drove her from power. In The Exaltation of Inanna, she evokes this episode with force: “I am expelled from my temple, I no longer live. I can no longer dwell among those who love me, and wherever I go, the day is changed into darkness.” (Source: translation inspired by Annette Zgoll, specialist in Sumerian hymns). This exile, far from breaking her, became the ferment of a work of unprecedented intensity. The text reflects not only her distress but also her will to regain her status. One perceives the weight of political struggles behind the liturgical formulas. Through poetry, she transformed pain into an instrument of divine and human persuasion. And when Sargon’s son restored her title to her, it was as much a political victory as a personal triumph. In Antiquity, writing was used mainly to record accounting documents or anonymous religious texts. Yet Enheduanna dared to affix her name to her compositions, thus becoming the first person whose identity we know to have written literary texts. Clay tablets, laboriously incised with cuneiform signs, tell the story of her prayers and praises addressed to Nanna and, above all, to Inanna, the goddess of love, war, and justice. Among her most famous works are: The Exaltation of Inanna (Nin-me-sar-ra): a hymn exalting the goddess’s power and evoking the author’s distress after her dismissal; and the Temple Hymns of Sumer and Akkad (attributed to Enheduanna): a series of texts dedicated to the principal Mesopotamian sanctuaries. Her boldness in signing her writings broke with centuries of anonymity and affirmed the existence of an individual voice at the heart of tradition. The tablets themselves, often copies made long after her death, show how her work had crossed generations. In these texts, the figure of Inanna is magnified, at once protective and formidable, reflecting the multiple aspects of the feminine divinity in the Mesopotamian pantheon. By their content and style, Enheduanna’s hymns constitute a unique testimony to the deep bond between religion, politics, and literary creation in Sumer.

Enheduanna’s world: Mesopotamian high priestess kneeling in prayer before Nanna’s statue in Ur
A high priestess kneeling in prayer before the statue of the city-god Nanna — an evocation of Enheduanna’s devotion.

Style, Voice, and Influence

Her writing is distinguished by great musicality, an incantatory rhythm, and the use of the “I,” which, at the time, was rare in religious literature. Over the centuries, Enheduanna’s works continued to be copied by scribes, a sign of their cultural importance. Her impact does not stop at Mesopotamian literature. She is one of the first known figures to have given writing a personal and introspective role, thus foreshadowing future poets and writers. Her hymns influenced Babylonian literature and certain later religious texts. The themes addressed—exile, suffering, divine justice, the power of language—remain timeless and still resonate today. In her words, one perceives a kind of identity quest, an affirmation of self that transcends the purely cultic framework. Thus, she speaks not only in the name of the gods, but also as a human being facing adversity.

Archaeology and the Disk of Enheduanna

Moreover, Enheduanna’s existence is not a mere legend, unlike other authors who for now remain legendary. Archaeological discoveries have confirmed her role and importance: cuneiform tablets containing her hymns have been unearthed in Ur and Nippur, attesting to the transmission of her writings long after her death. The Disk of Enheduanna, discovered at Ur by archaeologist Leonard Woolley in 1927, depicts a woman identified as a high priestess making an offering. Her name is inscribed there, confirming her high status. These elements reinforce the exceptional place she occupies in the history of letters. The excavations carried out in the 1920s–1930s revolutionized our understanding of Akkadian culture, offering a concrete face to this forgotten figure. The iconography of the disk, showing the ritual procession, illustrates the centrality of worship in public life and Enheduanna’s stature within this organization. If she was long overshadowed by male figures such as Sargon or Hammurabi, her rediscovery allows us to reconsider the role of women in the formation of Mesopotamian culture. Many specialists, such as Assyriologist Jean Bottéro, have studied her works and emphasized their importance.

A Name Pressed into Clay

In a world where anonymity reigned supreme, Enheduanna was the first to assert her individuality through writing. Her name, inscribed in clay, is a declaration of independence in the face of the erasure of time. When one asks who is the oldest author whose name we know, the gaze inevitably turns toward this priestess of the dawn, this poetess of light: Enheduanna. Her voice, coming from the depths of the ages, still resonates as an echo of humanity. She reminds us that writing is not only a tool for administration or worship, but also a profoundly personal act. In her lines, time bends, abolishing four millennia to let us hear the song of a woman who dared to say “I” in a world that recognized only the “we” of the gods and kings. And perhaps it is there, in this quiet yet revolutionary affirmation of her identity, that Enheduanna’s true greatness resides.

Sources

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The illustrations were generated using artificial intelligence to support the historical narrative and enhance immersion. They were created by the author and are the property of Echoes of Antiquity. Any reproduction requires prior authorization by email.

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