A Short Tour Through the Vatican’s Gregorian Egyptian Museum

The Gregorian Egyptian Museum was founded in 1839 by Pope Gregory XVI and consists of nine rooms that once housed Pope Pius IV’s private apartments in the Belvedere Palace. During the Imperial Age, Romans were crazy for everything Egyptian, and it became fashionable to import Egyptian works to Rome to decorate residences, shrines, temples, etc. In fact, after the Battle of Actium in 31 B.C. (when the first Roman Emperor, Augustus, defeated his one-time ally Marc Antony and Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt), rich Romans imported various spoils of war to their city, spurring a fade. Later Emperors continued the importation of Egyptian artifacts during their respective reigns, thus creating the treasure trove that is now housed in the Vatican.

The First Room of the museum houses epigraphic artefacts (i.e. artefacts with inscriptions). Its centerpiece is the partial Statue of Ramesses II Enthroned, which is engraved with the Pharaoh’s cartouches (a “cartouche” is an oval shape enclosing hieroglyphs that represent a name). Some scholars believe that Ramesses II may be the Pharaoh mentioned in Exodus, against whom Moses and Aaron revolted. Ramesses II was also known as Ozymandias in Greek, and it is this name that Percy Shelley invokes in his eponymous sonnet:

I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said — “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

The other notable artifacts in this room include the False-door funerary stele of Iry (2230-2180 B.C.). According to the Egyptians, funerary stelae would “render living the name” of the deceased and give them life in the afterlife. “False-door” funerary steles were derived from the ancient practice of putting frame stelae into the façade of a building. The false-door stelae mimicked this practice, but instead of decorating the façade of a building, they were placed in the façade of the funeral chapel. It was in front of this “door” that the deceased’s relatives could place offerings of food and drink (apparently, one still needed such things in the afterlife). This particular stele was found in the tomb of Iry, or Iri-en-achti, a priest of the cult of the Pharaoh Khufu, as well as Khufu’s superintendent of the pyramid of Giza.

The Commemorative stele depicts Hatshepsut with her nephew, the future Thutmose III. Hatshepsut was one of the world’s first feminists. The daughter of one king and the wife of the other, she took hold of power while acting as regent for her nephew and named herself co-king. Unfortunately, in his old age, Thutmose III ordered that history forget her, and he attempted to erase her name from everything that alluded to her kingship. But, obviously, we know she ruled as King (from this stele as well as other sources), and so he failed in erasing her reign from history. For more detailed analysis of Hatshepsut’s story, look into The Woman Who Would Be King: Hatshepsut’s Rise to Power in Ancient Egypt by Kara Cooney. It is a very interesting read that touches on a myriad of issues including gender roles, social status, and the influence of religion on both.

The challenges Hatshepsut faced and the sacrifices she made are familiar to powerful women of the twenty-first century: balancing the personal and the political, overcoming stereotypes of hysterical and unbalanced femininity, and making compromises never asked of powerful men.

Kara Cooney

Another interesting artifact housed in this room is known as The Vatican Naophorous (521-486 B.C.). A Naophorous is a statue holding the naos symbol, the symbol of a temple. This particular naophorous is in the likeness of Udjahorresnet, the “chief physician, treasurer of the king of Lower Egypt and commander of the king’s fleet.” Udjahorresnet lived during the Persian occupation of Egypt, which is described in the hieroglyphics as relatively peaceful, a description which is in stark contrast to the Greek’s description of the Persian occupation (think the movie 300, when the 300 Spartans defended the narrow pass of Thermopylae). Interesting to note the differences in which cultures respond to occupations.

Room II houses works related to the funerary customs of Ancient Egypt, including two mummies, the more famous of whom is named the “Lady of the Vatican.” The Shroud of the “Lady of the Vatican” is unique, as compared to traditional female burial shrouds, because it depicts the entire body of the deceased rather than simply the face. In fact, only six such shrouds are known to be in existence today. The lady depicted in the shroud is wearing robes and jewelry are typical of the Roman Era; in fact, her hairstyle mimics those of the Imperial women from the Severian family. Apparently, the Severian women were the “Princess Kates” of their day (except without the helpful websites that tell you where Kate gets her amazing clothes – for those who are interested whatkatewore is a great resource, providing Kate’s schedule, details about her look, and dupes of her clothes that are nicer to your pocketbook than clothes worn by royals). The other mummy, The Mummy of Amenirdis, dates from the 21st Dynasty, when mummification became the norm even among the lower classes. It was around this time that the belief that preserving the body ensured eternal life became popularized.

The Sarcophagus of Djedmut sarcophagus dates to the 22nd Dynasty, during which there was an economic crisis. Due to the limited resources during this time, the sarcophagus itself was decorated, rather than the usual practice of inscribing the tomb, and thud the text inscribed on the sarcophagus had to be condensed. Sarcophagi contained three parts: (1) an external sarcophagus (which is what is exhibited here); (2) an internal sarcophagus (Djedmut’s is in the Museum of Rochelle in France); and (3) a wooden cover.

The Ushabti of Pharaoh Seti I (Ushabti were funerary figurines that were buried with the deceased to help him or her in the afterlife. Ushabti actually means “he who answers.”) are from the tomb of Seti I (the father of Ramesses the Great), located in the Valley of the Kings. Seti I was buried with over 700 hundred Ushabti – obviously he thought he needed a ton of help in the afterlife – but they are now dispersed around the world, so I guess he might have to do more work in the afterlife than he had planned. The material with which ushabti were made varied, but Seti I’s ushabti are made out of wood and covered with a resin of some sort of vegetable, known as “black varnish,” which is supposed to signify survival after death.

The final masterpiece held in this room is the Fayum Portrait of a Young Man. Fayum Portraits, which were made out of wood and painted with tempera or encaustic, were placed over the face of the deceased, replacing the traditional funeral masks. Although called “Fayum Portraits” because the first were found in Fayum, others have since been discovered elsewhere in Egypt. Scholars believe the Fayum Portraits to be a wholly Hellenistic influence on Egyptian burial customs, in part, because the portraits became popular around the same time as the Roman occupation of Egypt.

Room III is a reconstruction of the Serapeum of the Canopus in Hadrian’s Villa, Tivoli. Emperor Hadrian’s villa contained a multitude of Egyptian artifacts, which were moved to this room in the Vatican. The original curator of this museum believed that the Serapeum was a place of worship, but based on recent excavations in the villa, it is now believed that the space was actually a banqueting area, and that the name “Canopus” actually refers to a city on the Egyptian Delta, which Romans would retreat to for holidays. Located in this room are a Statue of Osiris-Apis, one side of which represents Osiris and the other the bull Apis, and a Statue of Osiris-Antonius. Emperor Hadrian’s favourite, Antinous, drowned in the Nile in AD 130, prompting Hadrian to found the city of Antinoopolis and deify him. The new cult was known as Osiris-Antinous; it took off with the citizens.

Room IV holds Roman works that were inspired by the influx of Egyptian culture after Augustus won the Battle of Actium in 31 BC. Major works in this room include a Campana Plaque (mid 1st century BC through the mid 2nd century AD), The Cacco (the Roman term “Cacco” means “macaque,” a type of Asian monkey) (Phildias and Ammonios, AD 159), which once portrayed a dog, a sacred animal to the god Thoth, but it has since been damaged, and a Statue of the God Anubis (1st to 2nd century A.D.), the Egyptian god of death, who was typically represented as a jackal. Interestingly, in Roman culture, Anubis was merged with the Roman god Mercury, which is why he is seen here with Mercury’s staff.

The Statuary in Room V houses Egyptian statues, including The Head of Pharaoh Mentuhotep II, which likely came from his burial site in Thebes. Also here is The Statue of Queen Tuya, which originally depicted Queen Tiye, the wife of Amenhotep III, but it was repurposed by Ramesses II to honor his mother Tuya. Next to Tuya is the princess Henutmire, one of Ramesses’ sisters. Other works include a Statue of the God Bes, the god of infants and expecting mothers, and The Anthropomorphic Statue of the God Apis. The god Ptah and a virgin cow produced a bull that lived on earth and was the divine incarnation of Apis. When the bull died, the god’s essence united with the god Osiris, creating the god Osiris-Apis.

Located in Room VI is an Urn for the Mummy of a Cat, which is not as nice as it sounds. The Egyptians would strangle or fracture the spinal cord of baby kittens to offer as sacrifices to the gods, specifically the goddess Bastet. According to myth, Bastet was a lioness who had to be “tranquilised” through ritual (and apparently through offerings of dead cats, which I would think would piss her off more…..). Also located here is the Statuette of an ibis, which was probably the vessel for a mummified ibis (hopefully not killed or sacrificed like the kittens). During holidays, priests of the cult of Thoth (who manifested as an ibis) would take statuettes like the one here from the temple dedicated to Thoth in Hermopolis to the Tuna el-Gebel necropolis.

On a more happy note, The Stele of Horus on Crocodiles is housed in this room. It depicts Horus (son of Isis, goddess of magic) standing on two crocodiles, while simultaneously holding several dangerous animals. This image is meant to convey his triumph over evil. Steles, such as this one, were believed to be infused with magic that cured individuals who had been stung by a scorpion or bitten by a snake, forcing my husband (a toxicologist) out of the job.

Room VII houses artifacts from the 4th through 2nd century BC, generally from Alexandria and Palmyra, a Syrian city that connected Rome with Persia and therefore, was a commercial hub. Objects from all over the known world would pass through Palmyra, either going to or coming from Rome. The constant movement of goods through this city has produced many artifacts for historians to mull over, including the Alexandrian Terracottas that were produced in Alexandria during the Ptolemaic and Roman Age and the Palmyran Burial Reliefs (2nd and 3rd century AD). The necropolises in Palmyra contained three different types of tombs: (1) tombs shaped like a tower; (2) those underground; and (3) those in the form of a mound. Those in the form of a tower and those underground were sealed with limestone slabs that depicted the deceased and are now located in this room.

Room VIII houses “antiquities of the Ancient Near East,” or in other words, works from Mesopotamia and Syria-Palestine (3rd to 2nd century BC). I’m not quite sure why they are housed in the Egyptian museum, but they are… One of the most significant pieces, although seemingly mundane to modern eyes, is a cuneiform tablet that records a sale of land in Sumerian. The Sumerians, who lived in Mesopotamia, produced the first known writing in the 4th millennium BC (i.e. 4000 BC to 3001 BC), and this tablet is a prime example of the cuneiform script. Also here are Cylindrical Seals, which were generally worn around an individual’s neck and were used for signatures in Mesopotamia starting in the 3rd millennium BC. The Cylinder of Nebuchadnezzar II celebrates King Nebuchadnezzar II, King of Persia from 605-562 BC.

Room IX houses several reliefs and inscriptions that once decorated Assyrian Palaces. The inscriptions were written to celebrate Assyrian greatness as well as the Assyrian Kings’ accomplishments. By linking the magistry of the kings, the expansive palatial complexes, mythical heroes and military successes, the inscriptions elevated the status and prestige of the Imperial elite. If you’re wondering why Assyrian artifacts are housed in the Egyptian museum, it is because Assyria conquered Egypt in 671 B.C. under King Esarhaddon. Assyria, however, was only able to hold onto Egypt for a short period.

The Relief with winged Genius comes from Ashurnasirpal II’s palace, which was located on the Acropolis of Nimrud, ancient Khalku. Ashurnasirpal II reigned from 883 through 859 BC, and it was under his rule that neo-Assyrian figurative art bloomed. The relief is an example of such art, and it depicts the sacred tree (which symbolized royal fruitfulness) protected by Genius. In stark contrast to the flourishing art and culture occurring at his court, Ashurnasirpal II’s reign was characterized by violent empire expansion. He was known for his brutal treatment of conquered peoples; in fact, his “trademark” was to skin the conquered city officials alive and nail the result to the city’s walls. He did have a great party (allegedly inviting about 70,000 people) to celebrate the establishment of his new town Khalku though…

The Brick with Inscription of Sargon II is from Sargon II’s palace located in Khorsabad. The inscription is in Sumerian and states, “Sargon, king of the universe, built this city: Dûr-Sharrûkin [literally “fortress of Sargon”] is its name; within, he had this unrivalled palace built.” Sargon II, who reigned from 722 through 705 B.C., founded the Sargonid Dynasty, which would reign Assyria for the next century until Assyria’s eventual fall and Babylon’s rise. It was under Sargon that the Kingdom of Israel was destroyed, causing 10 of the 12 Hebrew tribes to disappear from history. They are known as the “Lost Ten Tribes.”  

The Relief with Assyrian Soldiers is from Sennacherib’s palace and depicts Assyrian soldiers leaving a city’s gates, carrying loot, thus emphasizing the military prowess and wealth of the Assyrian state. Sennacherib, Sargon II’s son, ruled from 705 through 681 B.C. Sennacherib moved the capital to Nineveh; some historians believe he had issues with his father so he obviously did not want to live in his father’s city, if indeed that is the case. He apparently had issues with his own sons as well, since they assassinated him.

The Relief with Arab Tent Set Alight is from Ashurbanipal’s palace in Nineveh. The relief (in conjunction with another which is at the British Museum) depicts Ashurbanipal’s victories over the nomads who lived in the Syro-Arabian desert. The Relief with the siege of Bit-Bunaki is also from the Ashurbanipal palace and, as its name implies, depicts the siege of Bit-Bunaki. Ashurbanipal was Sennacherib’s grandson, and he reigned from 680 through 636 BC.

Lincoln in the Bardo

“Everything was real; inconceivably real, infinitely dear. These and all things started as nothing, latent within a vast energy-broth, but then we named them, and loved them, and, in this way, brought them forth. And now we must lose them.”

In honor of the Man Booker Prize winner being announced yesterday, and also because I am seriously lagging on my reading list so I can’t write about the winner since I haven’t read it yet, I decided to write about last year’s winner.

Last year, George Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo took the grand prize as the Man Booker Book of the Year.  Although it’s been sitting on my shelf since it won last October, I just managed to finish it yesterday – right on time to order the 2018 winner, Anna Burn’s The Milkman.  I am glad that I was so late in reading Lincoln in the Bardo, however, because October was the perfect month to read it:  the novel takes place over the length of one long, solitary night in a graveyard.

Solitary because the novel’s focus is on a single living character, Abraham Lincoln, and his lonely midnight sojourn to his young son’s grave.  Lincoln’s internal dialogue bombards the reader with tangible, raw waves of emotions.  Emotions that are vivid and familiar because they are emotions that we all have suffered: loss, grief, hopelessness, anger, regret…

Amplifying the palpable sense of loss is Saunders’ brilliant juxtaposition of Lincoln’s solitary grieving with a cacophony of voices: both historical and fictional, but all long dead.  Like us, these bodiless voices have experienced the emotions manifesting in Lincoln, and like us, they can act only as mere bystanders to his grief.  Both we and the voices are confined by time and space to the memory of our own losses and grief.

As the story matures, however, the reader – and the voices – come to realize that despite our seemingly individualized experiences, everyone must come to terms with death and accept that those who we love will eventually die.  And it is through this collective realization – and the realization that it is the love that makes life worth it, even with the eventual loss – that the voices in our book are able to find release and move on.

 

Without a Sense of an Ending

The lie of regret and of life gone off the rails.  What rails.  The life is the rails.  It is its own rails and it goes where it goes.  It cuts its own path.  My path took me here.

Okay – I will admit it.  I have been a mess the past month with way too much to do, so I utterly failed my goal of trying to read all of the books that were long-listed for the Man Booker Prize before the Short List came out, i.e. before today.

In my younger years – meaning up until now, but I am actively trying to change – I beat myself up about not reaching the goals that I set for myself.  But I’ve started (and before those of you who know me as a crazy type A person write me off, I said started) to realize, that I am human, and it is okay to fail at your goals sometimes.  In fact, goals should be aspirational so that in reaching for them, you accomplish more than what you otherwise would have had done.

What I mean to say, after all that rambling self-reflection, I have decided that instead of thinking that I failed by having a million other things to do that got in the way of my reading list, I’ve decided to be grateful for what I did accomplish – reading two great pieces of literature that I would not have otherwise gotten to had I not tried to read the entire Long List.

AND, I did manage to read one that made the Short List, Rachel Kushner’s The Mars Room.  The Mars Room follows a young woman as she makes her way through the criminal justice system, and chronicles her attempt to come to terms with serving two life sentences.  The book was thought-provoking, especially with regards to the American justice system and the so-called “American Dream.”  The story itself, however, was not my cup of tea.

Admittedly, The Mars Room is not the type of book that I would have gone for myself – which is one reason I like reading books that have been nominated for prizes; it gets me out of my comfort zone – but as it is not my favorite type of novel, you do need to take my thoughts on it with a grain of salt.

In the novel, you come face-to-face with the vulgarities of life; strippers, drug dealers, murderers are all featured in the novel. And Words are not minced. Instead, the book breaks through our quixotic illusions of what we think the world is and should be and shows us the realities of a life that has become far too familiar to too many.  The result leaves the reader in a space where he or she must learn to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.  Facing reality is usually an uncomfortable business.

In fact, just as the reader is finding him or herself less guarded, opening up to the “family like” network that the characters have created for themselves, google and its vast knowledge of the world upends the unspoken agreement between the author and the reader that the main characters in this story are the protagonists – the wrongly incarcerated who are at the complete – and unfair – mercy of the criminal justice system.  Google tells the story of their crimes.  And some of their crimes are heinous.

It was this moment that I realized why this book had been long listed (and subsequently short listed).  It is Rachel Kushner’s ability to create a story full of multi-dimensional characters that are neither good nor bad, but fully human that sets her apart. Her novel is an ode to reality.  A reality that desperately needs to be acknowledged and has for so long gone unnoticed.

I will say, however, that if you do like your novels to end all wrapped up in a tight bow, you will definitely feel unsatisfied at the end of this book.  It leaves you, to borrow a phrase from Julian Barnes, but one that is especially apt here,  without the “sense of an ending.”

A Reprieve From Scotland: The Man Booker Dozen

Putting a pause in my Scotland Posts (I promise, I only have a couple more of those), the Man Booker Long List (or “Man Booker Dozen”) was announced last week.  The Man Booker prize is given to the “best novel,” written in English and published in the U.K. (a semi recent change of the Rules – previously, the authors had to be from the commonwealth) of the year.

I try to read the winner each year, but this year, I have decided to attempt to read the long-list before the short list is released on September 20th.  As I went to Amazon to order the books, however, some of them have yet to be released, at least in the U.S.  So my goal has been made easier (thank goodness, as I have a small pile of books sitting on my bedside table, and that pile has been slowly growing).

According to the Man Booker website, this year’s longlist include several dystopian books, giving this year’s list a theme of “a world on the brink.”  Additionally, many explore social class, gender, and family.

And so, without more, the “Man Booker Dozen” are:

Belinda Bauer (UK), Snap (Bantam Press): a crime novel about a mother going missing, and the aftermath of her disappearance on the family.

Anna Burns (UK), Milkman (Faber & Faber) (preorder only in the US): a novel that explores the consequences of corrupt political life on one’s domestic/family life.

Nick Drnaso (USA), Sabrina (Granta Books): the first ever graphic novel to be on the long list.  Another disappearance story line, but it is interwoven with how the 24-hour news cycle impacts our lives (a theme also explored by the 2003 Man Booker winner – Vernon God Little, and now, in my opinion, more relevant than ever).

Esi Edugyan (Canada), Washington Black (Serpent’s Tail) (preorder only in the US): a historical novel following an escaped slave on his road to freedom.

Guy Gunaratne (UK), In Our Mad and Furious City (Tinder Press): a novel following friends and their interaction with urban life, focusing on the lives of the marginalized and oppressed.

Daisy Johnson (UK), Everything Under (Jonathan Cape): the story of an absentee mother trying to re-connect with her daughter and of the language they had invented together before the mother left.

Rachel Kushner (USA), The Mars Room (Jonathan Cape): a novel about incarceration in America.  This novel explores the criminal justice system, as well as gender, class, and the failure of the American Dream.

Sophie Mackintosh (Wales, UK), The Water Cure (Hamish Hamilton): likened to the Handmaiden’s Tale, this novel explores the story of a mother and three girls who are kept on an island by the father – until one day the father leaves, and the women are left to survive on their own.

Michael Ondaatje (Canada), Warlight (Jonathan Cape): Ondaatje was just awarded the Golden Man Booker Prize for his novel The English Patient (which has also been turned into an academy award wining film, by the same name; starring Ralph Fiennes, may be better known as Lord Voldemort in the Harry Potter films).  This novel, however, follows two children after the end of World War II and their mysterious caretaker.

Richard Powers (USA), The Overstory (Willian Heinemann)The Overstory is a story of the environment.  Following nine very different individuals, the novel eventually brings them together as each tries to save the final few trees left in the world.  This novel explores global warming, and its effects on all classes, genders, and races.

Robin Robertson (Scotland, UK), The Long Take (Picador)The Long Take is actually a novel in verse form.  It follows a man suffering from PTSD, and his attempt to cope with live after war.

Sally Rooney (Ireland), Normal People (Faber & Faber) (preorder only in the US): this novel looks at the intersection between classes through the lens of children.  A young middle class girl befriends her parents’ house cleaner’s son.  The story watches them grow up in two distinct social circles while trying to maintain their connection.

Donal Ryan (Ireland), From a Low and Quiet Sea (Doubleday Ireland): Separated into four parts – the first three sections tell the story of three men.  The first, a man deciding whether to flee Syria with his family.  The second, a brokenhearted bus-driver in Ireland. And, lastly, a manipulator searching for forgiveness.  The final sections brings all three together in their search for home and acceptance.

This year’s judges include: Kwame Anthony Appiah (Chair); Val McDermid; Leo Robson; Jacqueline Rose; and Leanne Shapton.

I am still waiting on a couple of the books to get to my house, but, as some of them have arrived, let the reading begin!