The Curse of Pharaohs. A novel

Egyptology and Archaeology

BARTHOLO: There are fellows up to tricks everywhere, the audacious scoundrels!

Beaumarchais. The Barber of Seville.

All the passengers gathered for lunch in the same dining room. While everyone was still sitting down, the preacher, in an attempt to restore his shattered reputation, quickly recited a short prayer, everyone listened too impatiently and quickly began to eat. The conversation at the table was incomparably easier and more lively than it was at breakfast. It was about Egypt – the country where everyone was going.

The garrulous Frenchman Lepont trilled away like a nightingale: “Herodotus in his History in the second book Euterpe dwells in detail on Egypt and says there is more extraordinary and remarkable in this country compared with all other countries. And I would like to focus on…”

The colonel’s secretary interrupted the Frenchman’s abstract historical outpourings: “Monsieur Lepont, this morning we did not come to a general agreement whether or not Tutankhamun’s tomb should have been opened. And what is your opinion on this matter as an archaeologist?”

“Absolutely necessary!” The archaeologist impulsively waved his fork, almost pricking his neighbor. “This is the greatest archaeological discovery!”

“And what is its meaning? What does Egyptology give to Humankind? What do you think is the meaning of archaeology in general?”

“The meaning of science is to expand human knowledge. History and archaeology are the greatest sciences that give Humankind knowledge about itself, about its past, knowledge that allows it to look more confidently into the future. After all, the deeper you look back, the further you see forward. A person has a measly fifty, sixty, or even a hundred years of life. Getting to know the lives of parents and grandparents can extend the experience for another fifty years. And History allows you to extend your imaginary life by five thousand years or more! Our archaeological discoveries in Egypt and Mesopotamia allow us to look back around this period. Just imagine: you have gained an additional five thousand years of life experience and memories! Isn’t the work of a historian and an archaeologist worth it?”

“The main lesson of history is that human race does not learn lessons.” The colonel noted. “So, the work of historians and archaeologists is, in fact, useless.”

The reverend objected to this: “The Holy Scripture has already given us reliable knowledge about ourselves and the world from its creation to the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. Our duty is to study a Good Book and draw from it true knowledge and life guidance. But weak human understanding sometimes needs additional supports, so it is forced to use pictures of the world around us to interpret the innermost meanings of Scripture. This should be the primary purpose of historians and archaeologists: to obtain visible evidence of the information contained in the Scripture and steadily assert its validity. It would be useful for a Christian to look at the remains of Pharaoh in order to once again recall the story of Joseph the Beautiful, the exodus of the Jews from Egypt under the leadership of Moses, the escape of the Holy Family to Egypt and their sheltering under the shadow of the pyramids during the time of King Herod.”

“It is impossible to wait under the shadow of the pyramids.” Mr. Atkinson said. “Pyramids, by their geometric shape, cannot give shelter to travelers unless they go inside, which could not happen in any way.”

Mademoiselle Saad barely suppressed a giggle.

“And I don’t recall the Bible mentioning pyramids at all.” Gregson added.

“The Bible mentions pyramids!” The reverend responded passionately. “In the Good Book they are called Joseph’s granaries!”

“I suppose that’s not the case,” the archaeologist gently objected. “The pyramids could not serve as warehouses or storages. The science has reliably established that the pyramids are the tombs of the pharaohs.”

The reverend’s face began to turn red again.

The colonel raised his hand in a conciliatory manner and remarked with a smile: “None of us questions the authority of the Bible. And the absence of an evidence is not an evidence of absence. This is also true of the pyramids. Isn’t that right, Monsieur Lepont? Do you hope to reveal the infinite mystery of nature with your interpretations and penetrate into the unknown?

The archaeologist nodded gravely: “There is a scientific opinion that the recently discovered Pharaoh Tutankhamun was the son and heir of Pharaoh Akhenaten, who, in turn, may have been a contemporary of Moses. His new Egyptian religion of that time closely resembles Jewish monotheism. Some even consider Pharaoh Akhenaten to be Moses himself! Of course, we still don’t have enough facts thereby the work of archaeologists becomes more important for us.”

“The science, which deepens our understanding of the Good Book, can only be welcomed.” The priest agreed. “And a Good Book benefits not only the soul, but also the body! Let me tell you an enlightening tale. About five years ago, during the war in Palestine, British troops launched an offensive against the Turks at Jericho. One pious British commander was tasked with attacking and capturing the village of Mihmas. As befits a good Christian, our officer prayed fervently and read the Bible on the eve of the attack. And God directed him to read the fourteenth chapter of the First Book of Kings. Surely you remember what it says?” The priest looked around at his companions and with a sly smile took out a black volume of the Bible from his pocket, leafed through it and began to recite in a singsong voice:

“Now between the passes by which Jonathan sought to go over to the Philistines’ garrison there was a sharp rock on the one side and a sharp rock on the other side; and the name of the one Bozez, and the name of the other Seneh. The one crag a pillar on the north opposite to Michmash, and the other on the south opposite to Geba.

And Jonathan said to the young man that bore his armour, Come, and let us go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised: perhaps Jehovah will work for us; for there is no restraint to Jehovah to save by many or by few.

And his armour-bearer said to him, Do all that is in thy heart; turn thee; behold, I am with thee according to thy heart.

Then said Jonathan, Behold, we will pass over to the men, and we will shew ourselves to them.

And both of them shewed themselves to the garrison of the Philistines; and the Philistines said, Behold, the Hebrews come forth out of the holes where they had hid themselves.”

The priest put the Bible in his pocket and finished with a victorious look: “Our British repeated Jonathan’s trick. A small detachment of infantry marched through the gorge between the rocks of Bozez and Seneh. Then the Turks, like the Philistines, were afraid of the encirclement and hastened to surrender. Just like almost three thousand years ago, the experience of Saul and Jonathan helped the pious folk to defeat the enemies of God!””

The reaction was a reverential silence unceremoniously broken by Gregson: “I am familiar with this story and even personally made my own contribution into it.”

All eyes turned to him, and he had to explain: “It happened on the night from the thirteenth to the fourteenth of February in 1918, during our unfortunately thwarted Jericho offensive. But we still had some tactical successes back then. Indeed, Major Gilbert back then captured the Arab village of Mihmas, where we took many Turkish prisoners. This was partly the merit of our topographers. But, most of all, it was the merit of our intelligence and their good job with our Arab friends. Unfortunately, scouts are not supposed to be famous, so this, no exaggeration, brilliantly invented story was launched as a cover-up. By the way, at the time this story amused General Allenby very much, and we shortly expect its appearance in the flamboyant memoirs.”

The reverend’s face was turning beetroot again. The colonel hastened to smooth over the awkwardness: “I believe that Mr. Gregson’s addition does not in any way negate both the authority of the Bible and the benefits of studying antiquities. And even more, it emphasizes the importance of the latter in his own way, doesn’t it Mr. Gregson?”

“A perfectly fair idea!” Gregson smiled back.

The maroon hue on the reverend’s face gradually began to fade.

Mademoiselle Saad stated: “And, in my opinion, the main benefit of Egyptian archaeology is to attract world attention to my country and to rid the Arabs of their national inferiority complex. The world must reconsider the prejudice about the exceptional role of the West in world History. Our History began several thousand years before the Christian era.”

“Ancient Egypt has nothing to do with the Arabs.” Lepont noted.

“And, in my opinion.” Atkinson replied. “The meaning of history and archaeology is solely to make money. As well as the meaning of any other human activity. Excessive value is attributed to fossil shards. They sell for big money. Therefore, interest in the topic should be maintained all the time and it is desirable to bring it to an agitation, which we are witnessing today in relation to Egypt and Tutankhamun. Collectors, tourists, newspapermen, publishers would help the Egyptologists to remain in high demand, if they, of course, dig in the right direction.”

“You Americans are despicable materialists.” Verte replied. “Materialism is the trouble of our time. People became blind to spiritual values. Thousands of years of mystical secrets are hidden under the Veil of Isis and are known only to the devoted people. But even laymen sometimes feel an unconscious awe of the mystery! Our civilization is unable to repeat even the simplest achievements of the ancient Egyptians. With all our technology, we are unable to lay down the pyramids that the Egyptians erected with the help of their secret knowledge!”

“I don’t agree with you here.” The colonel laughed. “Should such a task be set, we Americans would build anything, any pyramids. But the meaning, the point comes first and the technique is secondary.”

“And what do you think is the point?” Gregson asked.

“The artist paints in order to convey his inner images to the audience. The writer creates a text to make the reader see the fruits of his imagination. Just like any person seeks to influence others. To do this one needs to learn how to imprint his own pictures in other people’s minds. Those who can impose their own picture of the world in the minds of nations are truly powerful. Achieving such power is the major point.”

“And what are the tools to create these paintings?” Gregson asked.

The Colonel laughed: “There is a variety of methods, sometimes the most unexpected. Let’s take archaeology as an example. Suppose you have a certain picture in your head that you want to broadcast to others. For example, the tales from the Bible. From the scant information publicly available you create in your imagination the picture of reality that presumably existed in those distant times. Then you make a few artistic final touches and here comes a picture you need. Next you dig up the specific area, find insignificant material fragments and put them together in a way to support your imaginary mosaic. Such mosaic brought together helps others to accept your customized reality. This is how you can control the actuality by creating your own imaginary reality in people’s minds.”

“But it would be a false picture! Something that never happened!” The archaeologist exclaimed.

The Colonel laughed again in response: “As a rule, the less truthful is a story, the more aesthetic pleasure it gives. Of course, as Plato mentioned, the creators of the myths have to be watched, otherwise they may loose boundaries. If their work is good, we would endorse it, if not, we would reject it. At our discretion, the educators would tell children only the approved myths.”

“And what would you do if the material fragments found do not match the picture you need?” Monsieur Lepont persisted.

“It’s very simple!” The colonel shrugged his shoulders. “Then you need to find or make up new fragments.”

“This is openly impudent” The archaeologist furiously threw his fork making a bang against the table.

“That is just one of the synonyms for courage!” The colonel smiled. “What is the most important thing when you run the country? The courage. What’s in second and third place? Also the courage. And at the same time, the courage is a child of ignorance and villainy. After all, only the practical result matters, so in our difficult times there is higher demand for the practical people than for the virtuous ones.”

Mr. Atkinson said: “Recently in New York I was offered to buy a unique precious Ming porcelain vase. It had a proper certificate of authenticity certified by experts. When I complained that it was too expensive for me, it was only out of deep respect for me that I was offered to buy two such identical vases at once for the price of one. In response, I joked that I would probably take a dozen with an appropriate discount. The seller seriously advised me to pick them up in a week.”

“Those are crooks and hucksters! Real scientists would never degrade to such a foulness!” The archaeologist exclaimed. “It’s disgusting and unworthy of a scientist!”

The colonel waved his hand away: “They have already degraded far below, long time ago. Here’s an example for you. In America there was a project to restore the ancient Indian pyramids, which would surpass the Egyptians and Sumerians in antiquity. Of course, the word ‘restore’ essentially means ‘build new’. New York and Chicago for a long time have been lined with artificial stone, indistinguishable from the monuments of ancient Egypt, so there was no technical difficulty in ‘repeating’ antiquity.”

“Scientists would quickly recognize your fake!” The archaeologist shouted angrily again.

“Oh, leave it, for God’s sake!” The colonel waved off. “For money scientists would confirm everything they were ordered to and would back up the whole enterprise with full appearance of scientific respectability. For now the project is on hold – not because of a technical difficulties, but because of discussions about expediency: why should America do this? Now America is so proud of its youth compared to the old Europe. But if we want to, we would surpass over Europe many times in the matters of antiquity. For example, we are very fond of the history of dinosaurs. Do you like dinosaurs?” The colonel smiled broadly and looked around the table.

Mademoiselle Saad confessed. “I remember how the whole cinema hall froze in horror when they showed the film Brute Force! I went to this film several times in a row and each time I felt terrible horror mixed with excitement.

“The Ghost of the Sleeping Mountain is much scarier.” Verte perked up. “Have you seen it? I also went to the cinema several times for it.”

“Your dinosaur is a vile dragon, one of the incarnations of the devil!” Mrs. Romney threw it in disgust.

The Reverend nodded in agreement and added pompously: “And the great dragon was cast forth – the old serpent, who is called ‘Devil,’ and ‘the Adversary,’ who is leading astray the whole world – he was cast forth to the earth, and his messengers were cast forth with him.”

“Revelation, chapter 12, verse 9.” Mrs. Romney immediately responded.

Mr. Atkinson smiled: “We Americans adore both the Bible and dinosaurs at the same time and we adore them like no one else in the world! American dinosaurs are the largest and most ancient in the world!”

“In my opinion,” the colonel noted, “America is using dinosaurs like a teenager, building its complex of historical superiority. What mean hundreds or even thousands of years of Old World history compared to the hundreds of millions of years of our dinosaurs? What do you think, Mr. Gregson? It seemed to me that you agree?”

Gregson thought for a moment and replied: “I suppose you’re not the first person to have such a cynical thoughts. But in our Old World people rarely express their ideas so openly. Maybe that’s why they started acting in complete silence much earlier than you. And, accordingly, they have already moved much further in this direction than you.”

“Perhaps.” The colonel nodded thoughtfully. “However, most likely, the same people act here and there.”

“Who are they?”

The colonel just looked up at the ceiling, shrugged his shoulders and laughed.

“I’ve heard that Freemasons played a big role in popularizing Ancient Egypt.” Atkinson noted.

“You also understand nothing about our science: neither in history, nor in Egyptology!” Lepont declared loudly and added, addressing Gregson. “Since you are going to write a book on this topic, do not try to take into account all that nonsense!”

Gregson smiled: “I would be very grateful if you help me figure out this topic.”

Lepont shrugged. “Try it and, if you have a sincere, I emphasize, sincere desire to understand this matter, I will give you some literature today.”

Poetry

FIGARO. He took the Matter in a serious Light, and turned me out of my employment, under Pretext that the Love of the Muses, and Attention to Horse affairs were incompatible.

COUNT. Most profound Wisdom!

Beaumarchais. The Barber of Seville.

FIGARO. What Beauty, what Cunning, what Love!

COUNT. And do’st thou think she will be mine Figaro?

FIGARO. She’ll sooner come thro’ those iron Bars, if necessary, than disappoint you.

Ibid.

The book given by an archaeologist – A Thousand Miles Up the Nile by Amelia Edwards — acted on Gregson like a sleeping pill. Either from what he had read, or from the satiety after dinner, he gradually dozed off. He had horror dreams where he was chased by dinosaurs with a heads of crocodiles and birds. When he woke up, he picked up the book and went out on deck to breathe.

Mademoiselle Saad was standing near the side, surrounded by her companions: Verte with Lepont and the colonel with the secretary. Mademoiselle Saad was singing a strange song, in which Gregson could hardly recognize some familiar French and Arabic words.

Mademoiselle Saad turned to him and explained: “We were just looking at the sea and arguing about poetry. I recalled a song about the sea. I heard this song in Marseille. It was sung by a boy at the pier. I didn’t remember everything, but I liked the song. In English, it would be something like this:

A white ship on a blue seaThrown by a wave towards the blue sky.And there is a blue bird hiding in the blue sky.And there’s a white angel singing.I smile at this miracle,Charming my mind, eyes, ears.I thank Allah for everything!”

“And I say that this is a real primitive!” Said Verte. “There is no real high poetry here. This is how a true poet writes about the sea.” And he began to recite in French, howling and drawling:

I dreamt the green night of blinded snows,A kiss lifted slow to the eyes of seas,The circulation of unheard-of flows,Sung phosphorus’s blue-yellow awakenings!For months on end, I’ve followed the swellThat batters at the reefs like terrified cattle,Not dreaming the Three Marys’ shining feetCould muzzle with their force the Ocean’s hell!

“Did you understand anything?” Mademoiselle Saad unceremoniously interrupted the recitation, turning to Gregson.

“Alas, I don’t understand French that well.” He admitted. “I only understood that it says about the glow on the sea associated with phosphorus. But I want to note that phosphoric lights in the sea are usually the so-called St. Elmo’s lights. This is not chemistry at all, but static electricity. Although, perhaps, in this case we are referring to the phosphoric glow of seaweed, which is really caused by a chemical reaction associated with some phosphorus compounds.”

The Colonel and Mr. Atkinson looked at each other and laughed loudly at the same time, and the Colonel said: “Xenophon’s Socrates says something like this: ‘I asked the poets what they wanted to express in their works in order to learn something from them. I’m ashamed to tell you the truth, but I still have to tell it. In short, poets say a lot of beautiful things, but they don’t know anything about what they are talking about.’”

“That’s what they call casting pearls before swine!” Verte said angrily. “For laymen, phosphorus is not a high poetic image, just a crude chemical element!”

He turned and walked away from the group. The archaeologist tried to follow him, but did not dare to leave so silently and stayed. To keep the conversation going, he nodded at the book in Gregson’s hands: “Very poetically written book, don’t you think?”

Gregson confirmed: “I find it very poetic indeed.”

“And what love for Egypt it shows!” Lepont happily joined in. “This is also a kind of poetry. Amelia Edwards saw everything with her own eyes and, therefore, inevitably fell in love with Egyptian antiquities! For almost half a century now she makes fall in love with Egypt her readers in various countries of the world!”

“There is indeed plenty of love and poetry in the book and the pictures are beautiful.” Gregson said. “But some places seemed… strange to me. For example, here.” Gregson opened the book where the bookmark was placed: “Do you remember a very poetic place where you talk about the monuments of Abu Simbel?”

“Of course! I remember this book almost by heart!”

Gregson read out: “‘The great statues towered above their heads. The river glittered like steel in the far distance. There was a keen silence in the air; and toward the east the Southern Cross was rising. To the strangers who stood talking there with bated breath, the time, the place, even the sound of their own voices, seemed unreal. They felt as if the whole scene must fade with the moonlight, and vanish before morning.’”

“It’s beautifully written!” Lepont even squeezed his eyes shut and kissed the tips of his fingers. “What confused you here?”

Gregson shrugged doubtfully, choosing his words. The Colonel and Mr. Atkinson exchanged glances. The colonel nodded slightly, and then Atkinson said: “If my geographical knowledge does not fail me, then Abu Simbel is located approximately at the latitude of the tropic, right?”

“Right.” The Frenchman replied suspiciously.

“The Northern tropic.” The secretary clarified.

“Of course, the Northern one!” The Frenchman confirmed irritably.

“If my astronomical knowledge does not let me down, then the Southern Cross is the polar constellation of the southern sky, located near the South Pole, give or take a few degrees?”

“This guy has a real file in his head of all the necessary knowledge!” The colonel commented smiling. “That’s why I drag him everywhere with me.”

Lepont had already figured out where his opponent was going, but still tried to stand his ground: “The stars of the Southern Cross can sometimes be seen in Abu Simbel!”

“I agree.” Mr. Atkinson nodded. “They can, but only above the horizon and only in winter, mainly during the winter solstice.”

Lepont hastened to consolidate the success. “There you go! Perhaps it was this day!”

“You’re almost right about the winter solstice, Mr. Lepont.” Gregson put in. “The book definitely says that our travelers arrived in Abu Simbel on January thirty-first and left on the evening of February eighteenth. I may have missed a lot of artistic beauties, but I usually remember the dates of events, the place of action and important circumstances of events quite well.”

Atkinson persisted “Even so, but there was no way the Southern Cross could have appeared in the east, as it says in the book!”

“That’s true!” Gregson agreed. “And that’s what confused me.”

The colonel smiled faintly through his moustache with only the corners of his lips: “In all great arts, idle talk and high-mindedness about nature are required. From here, in an incomprehensible way, that height of thoughts and that effectiveness of the word flow… This is what Socrates says in Plato’s dialogues Phaedrus.”

Lepont frowned angrily and could not find an answer. Atkinson looked at him triumphantly, smiling. Gregson pitied the frustrated archaeologist and added: “Although, if we interpret doubts in favor of the author, then I tend to understand the words ‘toward the east’ in the sense of ‘a little bit, just a little, a few degrees east of the exact southern geographical direction’.”