Dear Classical Wisdom Reader,
We are doing things a little differently today... We are going much further back than normal, back thousands of years ago to ancient Mesopotamia, to the very beginning of writing itself.
You see, long before keyboards, printing presses, or even alphabets, ancient scribes devoted years of study to mastering systems of writing so complex that they were considered not merely practical skills, but gateways to wisdom itself.
Those clay tablets pressed with tiny wedges by a long-gone hand did not just record, communicate, and preserve knowledge; it was a way of understanding reality. Words were thought to reveal hidden relationships between things, linking language, knowledge, and the structure of the universe.
To master writing, therefore, was to touch the foundations of thought itself.
Today we are surrounded by language, endless news feeds, message notifications, intrusive algorithms, and impressive digital archives, but we rarely pause to consider how these systems we use mold the way we think.
But the ancients did. They understood that writing was not neutral; it shaped knowledge, authority, and even the imagination.
Classical Wisdom Members can enjoy today’s special in-depth article, The Scribal Art, an extract from The Library of Ancient Wisdom. Written by scholar Selena Wisnom, one of only a few hundred experts able to read cuneiform script, it delves into the ancient literary world where complexity was not a bug, but a coveted feature.
Read on to understand the roots of language and thought and consider: when we write today, are we simply exchanging information… or shaping the way we understand reality itself?
All the best,
Anya Leonard
Founder and Director
Classical Wisdom
P.S. If you aren’t a Classical Wisdom Member, make sure to subscribe today to enjoy the full in-depth article, along with our podcasts with professors, Ebook library, Classical Wisdom Litterae Magazines and more. Let ancient wisdom and thought help guide you and make sense of the present:
The Scribal Art
By Selena Wisnom
Ashurbanipal’s sister Sherua-etirat is irked. She holds a letter from her brother’s new wife, Libbali-sharrat, written in sloppy handwriting and simple signs, a tablet full of mistakes that looks like it is from the hand of a child rather than that of the future queen of Assyria. This will simply not do. Ashurbanipal is the crown prince, heir to the greatest kingdom on earth, and needs a wife who is worthy of him in status. His wife’s accomplishments reflect not only on her husband but also on the whole royal family, and Sherua-etirat is embarrassed to have a sister-in-law who is not yet proficient in the scribal art. She will have to tell her to step up.
Sherua-etirat picks up her stylus to compose a reply. She unwraps a ready-made clay tablet, taking it out of the damp cloth it has been stored in to keep it moist, and begins to press signs into its soft surface: ‘Why don’t you write on your tablet and do your homework? For if you don’t, they will say: “Can this be the sister of Sherua-etirat, the eldest daughter of the succession palace of Esarhaddon, the great king, mighty king, king of the world, king of Assyria?’
***
The scene is imagined but the letter is real, written perhaps in 672 or 671, shortly after Ashurbanipal became crown prince, a few years before he ascended to the throne. Sherua-etirat really did admonish her brother’s young wife for not working hard enough at her writing, telling her in no uncertain terms.
By Ashurbanipal’s time in the seventh century BC the cuneiform writing system had been in use for around two and a half thousand years, though change was afoot.
