Happy Birthday, Ramses

If you go to Abu Simebel, try to go on October 22 and celebrate the birthday of Ramses the Great and see this rather phenomenal "solar" event.

Dead Egyptian Blues: Oh, Mister Tut, what good's it do?

"Oh, Mister Tut, what good's it do? 

They love your chair, but nobody cares for you. 

Egyptian nights were never colder, 

And all your friends are thousands of years older..." 

A surrealistic interpretation of the classic song by Michael Smith.

Finding Osiris (and inspiration) at a thrift store in Austin, Tx

A friend and I were discussing how the universe sometimes offers "odd things," and how they can reaffirm what we're doing. She discovered her totem animal in one of those weird quirks of fate. I found this object in a thrift shop for twenty-five cents. I bought it because I like strange things. Seriously, I do. Here's another odd purchase:

Do we see a pattern emerging? Yes,I think we do, but that's not my point.

As steeped as I am in all things Egyptian from writing my novel, I should have immediately glommed on to the fact that the first object is meant to be a representation of Osiris or maybe the trilogy of Isis, Osiris, and Horus.  Amazingly, it took me almost a year to have this sudden insight. (We're all slow sometimes.)

What did I base my insight on? In my humble opinion, this object has

• An eye of Horus. Horus was the son of Isis and Osiris. In one version of the story, when Set and Horus were fighting for the throne after Osiris's death, Set gouged out Horus's left eye. The majority of the eye was restored by either Hathor or Thoth (with the last portion possibly being supplied magically). When Horus recovered, he offered his eye to his father, Osiris, in hopes of restoring his life. Hence, the eye of Horus was often used to symbolise sacrifice, healing, restoration, and protection.
  
  
  
• A Djed pillar. The djed is one of the more ancient and commonly found symbols in Egyptian mythology. It represents stability and is associated with Osiris. It is commonly understood to represent his spine.
  
  
  
  
• A man wearing the Hedjet (white crown) of Upper Egyptt. Osiris is considered the original King of Egypt. The Atef crown of Osiris is a combination of Upper Egypt’s white crown and ostrich feathers on either side. According to Egyptian beliefs, this crown represents Osiris as the god of fertility, ruler of the Afterlife, and a representative of the cycle of death and rebirth.

• An Ankh or Knot of Isis. Can you see the key at the top of the three circles? The ankh was known as the key of life or the key of the Nile. The knot of Isis also meant life, but its symbolism revolves around the idea of binding and releasing, the joining of opposites, and protection. The Knot of Isis is often present with a djed pillar. Pretty sure the three rings  represent the divine trinity of Isis,Osiris, and Horus. Truth be told, I'm still fuzzy on this one, but I'm sure the meaning is there somewhere.

So what do you think? Am I right? And who (besides me) might make an object like this? 


Final note: Sometimes, when I'm stuck writing my novel, I look at this odd little piece for inspiration and can feel power emanating from it. Twenty-five cents? It's priceless.

Discovering ancient Egypt site

My name, Michalea Moore, from the Hieroglyphic Typewriter.

The Petrie Museum Facebook page called Discovering Ancient Egypt one of their favorite websites. I can see why. In addition to the just-for-fun typewriter, you can find more information about hieroglyphics, pyramids, temples, mummies, and kings and queens.  It also includes some general interest videos as well as  building famous temples in 3D. If  you don't want to miss anything, you can sign up for a newsletter.

Go there, now!  You'll be glad you did.

Romancing Sobek the Crocodile God

Ancient Egyptians feared and worshipped Sobek, Lord of the Crocodiles. They kept crocodiles in their sacred lakes and sometimes decorated them with jewels, no doubt to entice Sobek's minions not to eat them while they were out on the Nile. The strength and speed of the crocodile was thought to be symbolic of the power of the Pharaoh, and the word "sovereign" was written with the hieroglyph of a crocodile. It was thought that Sobek could protect the Pharaoh from dark magic.

Sobek is often associated with Isis and Horus. Some myths suggest that he might have been present at the birth of Horus and helped Isis find the dismembered parts of Osiris. Other myths, undoubtedly playing on the fear factor, align him with Set, the god of Chaos. Some even go so far as to suggest that Set fathered Sobek.

With such a juicy background, I decided Sobek had an interesting role to play in Queen of Heka. He is a companion of Heru (Horus) and suffers from his unrequited love of Iset (Isis), which has some fatal consequences. In this excerpt, Sobek "woos" Iset.

Iset tucked the hem of her skirt into her sash and waded into the sedge marsh, sinking to her ankles in mud. The river lapped at her knees, making the sun’s steady drizzle of heat almost bearable. Spikes of yellow-green flowers swayed in the sporadic breeze and released the rich, heady scent prized by perfumers. Filling a basket with sedge, she paid little attention to her dog until a sharp bark trailed into growls, then whimpers. An enormous crocodile lumbered from a thicket. The dog, hackles rising, stood stiff-legged between them. She dropped the basket and pulled the dog by its scruff onto the riverbank. 

“Sobek?” She held her breath, dreading the answer.

“Glorious Iset.” The creature, evolving with every step, confirmed her worst nightmare.  By the time Sobek reached her, he was fully man. He patted the dog’s head. It collapsed as if its 
bones had melted. 

 “What did you do to my dog?” She ignored Sobek’s outstretched hand.

“It’s sleeping.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her against him. He reeked of river water and something pungent and feral that overpowered the sweet sedge and singed her nostrils. His breath scalded her ear. “There’s an island near PaSabek where crocodiles come in the afternoon. Would you like to see it?” 

“I thank you, no.” 

Another shadow darkened the water. Nostrils and eyes emerged. The second crocodile’s indifferent gaze, pupils floating like black spears in a gold field, chilled her blood.

“I thought you might say that.” Rejection did not cool the heat in Sobek’s eyes. 

She tugged her belt. The wet skirt plopped around her muddy ankles. 

“I often see Light and Asar hunting out here.” Sobek’s thumb, cold and scaly, caressed her pulse. She shivered even though sweat beaded her forehead. “He handles a spear like a full grown man. Asar must be proud.” 

Two crocodiles lumbered onto the bank. At least ten bobbed in the water. She licked her lips; her tongue was dry and parched. 

“Asar adores him, and Heru worships his father.” 

“No doubt, but what does that leave for you, darling Iset?” Sobek growled. The circling crocodiles, at least twenty by now, swung their heads toward him. “Your child no longer needs you, and your husband cannot be a man with you.”

The crocodiles’ bobbing heads and yawning mouths stifled her tart response.

“Poor Iset.” He stroked her cheek, his fingers incredibly cool against the heat that blossomed there. 

Finding Egypt. . . not in Egypt

When we were in Egypt, my son and I had a running joke (that was really not at all funny) about plaques in front of statues, artifacts, and temples that said, "The original is in name that European museum." The British Museum and the Louvre were mentioned most often.

When I was in London, there was a billboard for an exhibit at the British Museum that said Celebrating 300 years of Empire!  An Irish friend of mine muttered under her breath "Celebrating 300 years of stealing from the locals."

Just how much of ancient Egypt came to live in London? Well, the British Museum is the motherlode of Egyptian artifacts, including the Rosetta Stone and a really nice (and big) Book of the Coming Forth by Day (aka Book of the Dead). On one visit, I came directly from Egypt (where I presumably might have gotten my fill of Egyptian antiquities) to London, but I still spent half a day enjoying their collection. This article, Ancient Egypt in London, skims the surface of Egypt in other parts of London. There is no doubt the Brits love their Egyptomania. As do the French and the Germans.

Of course, the US has its share of Egyptian treasures. My first encounter with real Egyptian "stuff" was at the Field Museum in Chicago where I saw my first mummy at the tender age of 10. As an adult, my husband was on the board of the Illinois Arts Council; they arranged a private, after hours tour of the 1976 Tutankhamun exhibition in the Field Museum. Thanks to the Field Museum, I had a goal in life: Get myself to Egypt. And I did. Twice. I hope to go again.

For a glimpse of the Egyptian joy you can find at the Field Museum, may I suggest An Egyptian Tomb and the Winds of the Afterlife: Chicago’s Field Museum.  Looking for Egypt near you? Check out this list.

While fully sensitive to and more than a little embarrassed by other countries amassing Egypt's treasures, I confess I am always excited when I encounter Egypt outside of Egypt. It's a confirmation that without that great and grand society that lasted (depending on your definition of when it ended) between 2500 to 4100 years, civilization as we know it simply would not exist.

July 9 update: Lest you think stealing antiquities is some19th Century phenomenon, Gleaming in the Dust, an audio documentary, reports on what has happened to Egyptian antiquities since the 2011 revolution.

Cleopatra's Daughter review

Reading historical novels is like going to a Hollywood premiere.

There is a cast of thousands, but only a few people eat up the scenery. They're called stars.

In many historical novels, you already know the star, and you probably already love/hate her/him. You know the story. The ending is rarely in doubt, although you often find yourself hoping against hope things will turn out better than you know they did. Take Cleopatra, for example. I always want her not to end up in that mausoleum with Antony dying on the floor, the asp in the basket, and Octavian at the door. I want it, but the end never changes, no matter how much I hope.

Then, there are some novels about the supporting actors, the  people who don't spend much time in history's klieg lights. Hitler's niece, the woman who read to Marie Antoinette,  the fictional daughter of Elizabeth I, or Charlemagne's wastrel son.  Just as Wolf Hall offered Cromwell's very welcome and fresh perspective on the Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn saga, books told from the POV of the supporting actors can reignite our passion for familiar stories.

Enter Cleopatra Selene, daughter and only child of THE Cleopatra and Mark Antony  to survive into adulthood, captive and ward of Augustus Caesar, and finally Queen in her own right. Selene mingled with some major stars who have fascinated us for centuries and became a star in her own right in the following novels:

• Vicky Alvear Shecter's young adult novel, Cleopatra's Moon
• Stephanie Dray's most excellent trilogy: Lily of the Nile, Song of the Nile, and Daughters of the Nile. (I previously  reviewed Daughters of the Nile.)
• And, the subject of this review, Cleopatra's Daughter by Michelle Moran 

I'm a BIG Michelle Moran fan. I loved her previous novels about Nefertiti and Nefertari. I also really liked her novel about the French Revolution told through the eyes of Madam Tussuad. Which is to say, I was pre-disposed to like Cleopatra's Daughter.

I liked it. I'm glad I read it. I just didn't love this novel. Given the subject matter, I wanted it to grab me by the heart, and it didn't.

The books opens strongly with Cleopatra's children playing dice and waiting for news about the outcome of their father's final battle with Octavian (Augustus). The ominous overtones of the family gathering quickly disintegrate into chaos in the palace with faithful servants fleeing, Mark Antony dying, Cleopatra committing suicide and abandoning her children to their fate, and the arrival of Octavian who may or may not kill Selene and her two brothers. Tension. Excitement. Life changing drama. After that scene, I almost felt the tension and drama melting away.

What didn't bother me: Numerous reviews talk about a lack of historical accuracy. I found the story close enough for a work of fiction. The intricacies of an ancient society are hard to convey to a modern audience. Yes, patrician women took their clan names; so Mark Antony's two daughters were literally Antonia Major and Antonia Minor. I'm OK with nicknames, which they probably had. No, women probably didn't become architects in Rome (as Selene does); but she had an indisputable impact on the architecture of Mauretania when she became its Queen. So I'll let that slide, because she might have had a few lessons in the subject. Yes, it does read rather like a YA novel, but we are seeing this world through the eyes of a 12-15  year old girl. Numerous reviews touched on what they thought was Selene's too modern sensibility about slavery; but as one reviewer pointed out, her opinion might have changed when she became a captive and potential slave rather than a princess.

What bothered me:  The writing is steady and even, but there are few highs or lows. Selene's character  is likable. Other characters are also likable, and some are despicable. They just don't have enough THERE there to make me love or hate them, which meant I didn't care much about what happened to them or root for their triumphs and downfalls. For example, in another of the Selene books, I wept at the death of Selene's youngest brother. His character was so finely drawn, his death left a hole in both Selene's world and my impression of that world. In this book, the brother's character is so one-dimensional and Selene's reaction so ho-hum, it feels like a check-box to tick on the plot outline. Ditto the drama with her twin brother's homosexuality; her antagonism toward her future husband, Juba; the prolonged mystery of the masked avenger; and her feelings about Octavian and Livia. Even Octavian's high-spirited daughter Julia (who surely deserves her own novel) is a rote character, and so are hints at what the Tiberius character will become.

In short, this Selene has about an inch of emotional depth, and her struggles (which surely must have been great) come across as petulant teenage angst. So, if you want a quick read about what happens after THE Cleopatra dies, this novel does a good job, but don't expect any stars, red carpet, and klieg lights.