The History, People and Culture of the Nile Valley |
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Ancient Egypt Magazine Volume Three Issue Three -- November/December 2002 Monsters in Ancient Egyptian Art Whilst almost every student of pharaonic civilization is
quite familiar with the dazzling array of bird and animal life illustrated in
its art and hieroglyphic writing, there is often considerably less awareness of
the monsters or fantastic creatures which also appear over the course of
Egypt’s long history. Patrick
Houlihan surveys a selection of these imaginary beasts and,
briefly explores their respective roles in antiquity. This is an overview of one of the most peculiar natural history
conceptions of the ancient Egyptians: the belief in monsters. Mythical marvels
first emerge in iconography during predynastic times and can be documented down
through the Graeco-Roman Period and beyond. For the residents of the Nile
Valley, these extraordinary oddities were judged to be just as real as any other
regular living wildlife species, if only more mysterious and dangerous. In fact,
these unnatural creations are occasionally executed in art, mingling right along
with the standard desert game animals in hunting scenes, especially in the
Middle Kingdom tomb-chapels. Lest we should forget, Western made maps of Africa,
as recently as just four or five centuries ago, represented the immense interior
of the continent as inhabited by fearsome dragons and other malicious beings. In
the absence of fact, these represented the unknown and the unexplored. How is the truly monstrous in Egyptian art to be defined? For our
purposes, it does not include the pantheon of deities and minor demons which
were routinely portrayed as having the body of a human being, but shown with the
head of some sort of animal, bird or even an insect. These are composite figures
which have a definite logic to them, where the head becomes the critical element
of the figure, while the body is reduced to a secondary importance. They can
accordingly be read, in the manner of a hieroglyphic sign. So a falcon-headed
god is a falcon-god pictured in human form. Precisely the reverse holds true
too. Thus, when a king or queen assumes the appearance of a lion, it will still
retain the human head of the individual portrayed, while the body displays the
characteristics of a lion.
The monarch as griffin. Male and Female rulers of Egypt adopted this image. Incongruous
elements
The dynasty IV Great Sphinx at Giza is, without doubt, the most
conspicuous example, capturing Khephren in godly leonine form, protecting the
approach to his pyramid. Abit more complex, but along the same lines of blending
of human and beast, is a frightening sphinx with the long tail of a Nile
crocodile, such as the colossal statue of one still in
situ at
Amenhotep III’s mortuary temple at Thebes (Kom el-Hetan), dating from dynasty
XVIII. Here, in this article, we will use the term monster as a purely fancied
beast, one that never actually walked the face of the earth, but lived
exclusively in the imagination, and subsequent artistic creativity, of
humankind. They were typically illustrated compounded of various incongruous
elements of animal types, the result being not infrequently a very bizarre
configuration, that was intended to instill a sense of awe and wonder in its
beholder. From the earliest times, the Egyptians living in relative safety along
the fertile black banks of the River Nile, perceived the vast deserts flanking
them as forbidding places. These hot, chaotic lands were peopled by hostile outsiders and home
to menacing animals, lions, leopards, snakes, scorpions and so on, but even more
frightening, they were the haunt of spirits and monsters. While the latter were
obviously never actually seen, the stories and idle chatter of brave desert
travellers, among others, who swore that they had caught fleeting glimpses of
them out in the wilderness at dusk or had come across their puzzling tracks, was
likely to have made monsters fertile ground for exciting talk (the stuff of
myths) among the average Egyptian. Also, they might even have known their
respective names and supernatural powers. They consequently became real enough
in the Egyptian mind, and yet another good reason to dread entering the blazing
deserts. In some ways, they may not have been unlike their contemporary
descendants, many of whom maintain a steadfast aversion to the immense desert
expanses of their country, for these near waste lands have, for thousands of
years, been traditionally linked with the unfamiliar and death.
Leonine Bes, companion of Hathor and protector of women. Griffins and
serpopards
In the present state of our knowledge, monsters made their Egyptian début
on a select number of monumental or votive slate cosmetic palettes, a
gold-handled flint knife and few carved ivory objects, all with low relief
decoration on them, which date from about Naqada III (or dynasty 0),
approximately 5000 years ago. Among the first and finest of these fascinating objects is the
so-called ‘Two Dog Palette’, found at Hierakonpolis (Kom el-Ahmar) in Upper
Egypt, and is now housed in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. Carved on either side
of this shield-shaped palette is a mêlée of true and strange desert dwelling
animals, which are in the midst of intense conflict, and is bordered by two
large heraldic cape hunting dogs. Amid this jumbled mixture of wild beasts, one can readily recognize
three serpopards, serpentnecked felines, and a winged griffin, which has the
head of a falcon (?) and a body of a lion. These hybrid creatures are engaged in
attacking their prey, while two of the serpopards, encircling the raised rim of
the grinding area, appear to be licking (the flowing blood?) from the body of a
dead antelope before devouring it, which lies directly below an ostrich. In addition, notice the enigmatic figure of a walking jackal playing
a flute or, possibly, a huntsman wearing a jackal’s head and tail. He may be
involved in some sort of ritual hunting magic. While the significance of the
imagery present on this élite object has been the subject of considerably
diverse and clever interpretations by Egyptologists since its discovery, it
would be hazardous to make an attempt at evaluating its full meaning here. What
does seem comparatively clear, however, is that within the symmetrically
sculpted rampant cape hunting dogs, the ‘Two Dog Palette’ presents to its
viewer a confusion of combative figures, thus revealing a horrid vision of the
disorder and terrors which lie outside the confines of the security in the Nile
Valley. Symbols
of unification
The central section of the relief decoration on a side of the justly
famous ‘Narmer Palette’, also discovered at Hierakonpolis, and now in the
Egyptian Museum, Cairo, is composed of a pair of serpopards with extremely long
necks which are intertwined, and whose heads are turned to confront each other.
Their necks also form the circular area where the prized eye-paint, malachite or
galena, would have been prepared, if this were an actual functional palette.
These fictitious marvels are being restrained on leashes by two male handlers. According to several leading scholars who specialize in the study of
the first Egyptians, this motif is likely to symbolize the early unification of
Upper and Lower Egypt. As such, it might be a forerunner of when, at a later
date, the two emblematic plants of the respective kingdoms were similarly
interwoven. Up to this point, the mythical monsters we have examined were not of
Egyptian origin, but were unmistakably borrowings from Mesopotamian iconography.
Precisely how these were transmitted to Egypt remains a question to be
satisfactorily answered, whether it was through direct or second hand means.
With the rise of the Old Kingdom, fabulous beasts all but vanished from the
Egyptian artistic repertoire, to be reborn in far greater numbers and varieties
during the Middle Kingdom. Only a relative handful of exceptions to the above
are known. First, was the appearance of a griffin exhibited in the wild on a
fragment from the encyclopaedic natural history scenes of the ‘Chamber of the
Seasons’ in the dynasty V solar temple of Niuserre at Abu Ghurab. Secondly,
the griffin became assimilated as a symbol of Egyptian kingly power and is known
from its occasional appearance on royal monuments. Thirdly, the hieroglyphic
emblem of the city of Cusae (modern El-Kûsiyah), for reasons which remain
imperfectly understood, was symbolized by a pair of serpopards, placed
back-to-back, and their necks held by a man standing on top of them. This
hieroglyph was utilized in inscriptions found in the decorated rock-cut tombs at
the site of Meir, in Middle Egypt. Fourth, was the frequent representation of a
definitely indigenous Egyptian monstrosity, the beast associated with typhonic
god Seth, a composite of two or more animals, and of whom we will have more to
say.
Still enigmatic: the undoubtedly indigenous and monstrous form of Seth, or Sutekh. A highly important group of mythical monsters is discernible in a
wall-painting in the dynasty XI tomb of the nomarch Baket III (BH 15) at Beni
Hasan in Middle Egypt. This grand tomb-chapel is also well-known for its
carefully observed collection of birds and bats. In an extensive composition
illustrating the tomb-owners’ huntsmen with bow and arrow in the desert, there
appears a file of four fancied animals, intermixed with the naturally occurring
fauna. Although these curiosities do not appear to be the subject of the chase,
the artist has still labelled each of them with their names, as he did with most
of the game. These include the dog-like animal of the god Seth, whose zoological
identity cannot be ascertained, which has been depicted with its characteristic
erect, arrow-like tail and squaretipped ears, but not with its usual curved
snout. Next, come our old familiar friends the griffin and a serpopard.
Lastly, there is what is likely to be an outlandish elephant, or so it is called
in the caption above it; nevertheless, the single horn protruding from its head
is reminiscent of a rhinoceros (but not of a unicorn). While in the dynasty XII
tomb of Khnumhotep II (BH 3), at the same site, in a similar desert hunting
scene, there is another exotic monster. This one closely resembles the mixture
of a cheetah and a griffin, but surprisingly, has a human head sprouting between
its outstretched wings. We will encounter this oddity again on ‘magic wands’
of the same age (see below). Perhaps stranger still, again at Beni Hasan, is a garishly painted
female griffin with closed wings, wearing a collar and held on a leash in the
dynasty XI tomb of Khety (BH 17). Since this griffin appears nearby the
tombowner, it was undoubtedly intended to be regarded as a weird pet of
Khety’s. The distinguished British Egyptologist, Norman de Garis Davies, who
spent some time working in these tombs during the early 1930’s, plausibly
suggested that it might, in fact, be a domestic dog, disguised to liken it with
this ferocious mythical beast, or that the artist may have intended it to be
some sort of a joke. A number of other griffins are also discernable in the
decorative program of the Middle Kingdom rock-cut tombchapels at the nearby site
of Deir el-Bersha. In one instance, this legendary creation can be seen ambling
along in a desert landscape, following a troop of four pet(?) monkeys. If these
primates are really tame pets, which seems to be the case, there is also a
reasonable possibility that this griffin was also yet another common household
dog in full masquerade. One can only then imagine the discomfort these dogs had
to endure wearing such elaborate getups, and to what purpose could this serve?
Merely a jest or rather in some way a prestigious possession of these nomarchs’,
which would follow them into the next world? Magic
wands
Certainly one of the richest sources for the fraternization of the real
and fabled in Egyptian iconography derives from a sizable group of objects
usually called ‘magic wands’ or ‘magic knives’ also of Middle Kingdom
date. Fashioned of strips cut from the curved tusk (tooth) of a hippopotamus,
they are about 15 or 16 inches in length, and when carefully made, can display a
bestiary of apotropaic creatures, both benevolent and malignant, and a variety
of potent symbols engraved upon them. They are also frequently accompanied by
short texts invoking ‘protection’. These figures could be magically summoned by reciting certain spells
and were utilized to ensure the safety of the nursery or a pregnant woman’s
bedroom from harm, especially the venomous bites of snakes and the stings of
scorpions, which could easily carry off a newborn or expectant mother. When placed in burials, these devices apparently could also offer
similar protection to their deceased owners. In addition to the now familiar
cast of imaginary beasts we have been introduced to, new monstrous characters
make their appearance on these wands. Among the most important, is the lion-man, which later becomes the
grotesque dwarf-god Bes, but who, at the same time, is a bit comical looking,
and was routinely represented full- faced. Then there is the hippopotamus that
stands upright on its hind legs with a long Nile crocodile fused to her back,
both dangerous denizens of Nile waters, which later develops into the goddess
Taweret. Both Bes and Taweret become extremely popular in the New Kingdom as
magical protectors of the home and family. Their images routinely appear on
objects of household everyday use, such as beds, chairs, headrests, toilet
articles, and like items. During the New Kingdom, representations of the mighty griffin become
considerably more numerous. As an artistic emblem for the display of royal
power, as with the sphinx, the king sometimes assumed the appearance of a huge
terrifying griffin, and is rendered trampling underfoot the traditional enemies
of the country. The form of this beast also gradually underwent a change,
becoming more gracile, appearing like a sleek canine, and the head and bill come
to resemble those of a large vulture or an eagle, rather than a falcon. Beginning in the late New Kingdom, griffins can be seen on magical
statues and stelae pulling at breakneck speed the chariot of the youthful god
Shed, who shoots his unerring arrows at an assortment of typhonic creatures,
thereby helping to bring safety to their owners. Hazards
and bravery
While not precisely fitting our definition of a monster, there is a
painting in a New Kingdom tomb-chapel which deserves our attention, owing to its
uniqueness. In the dynasty XVIII tomb of a military officer under Tuthmosis III
named Amenemhab (TT 85) at Thebes, a remarkable scene in a prominent position,
features the tomb-owner, with a stick and spear in hand, ready to do mortal
combat with an angry female striped hyena of unearthly size, on what appears to
be a foreign desert landscape. While it is a living species, one that was well-known in Egypt, its
abnormally large size surely indicates that the artist was striving to achieve
an aberrant and hideous portrait. A brave fellow Amenemhab must have been,
having to confront such a threatening creation for all time. The path of the departed to everlasting bliss in the beyond was a
hazardous journey; the underworld was replete with a whole host of evil demons,
such as the knife-wielding ones that guarded the various gates to Osiris’s
‘Hall of Justice’. Once having safely arrived there, the deceased’s heart
was then weighed on a scale against a feather, overseen by the god Anubis, as
shown in the wellknown vignette which accompanies Chapter 125 of the Book of the Dead. Those hapless individuals judged
unworthy of entering paradise were immediately delivered to the monster Ammit,
whose body was assembled from parts of the Nile crocodile, lion, and
hippopotamus. It devoured all who had been condemned by the outcome of the
balance. This horrible hybrid may have been the most successful attempt at
creating the profoundly monstrous. Its scary appearance aside, it was feared by
all, no matter what social station, as this fiend put to a final end one’s
chances of ever achieving eternal life, the hope and desire of all ancient
Egyptians. In the Graeco-Roman Period, there was something of renewed interest
in monstrous beings. There is a tale preserved in demotic literature called Inaros and the Griffin, which includes a description of a
battle against a gigantic griffin from the Red Sea. This is also manifested in
the execution of hieroglyphs and occasionally in compositions carved on temple
walls. For the modern visitor to Egypt, this is quickly noticeable, for example,
in certain inscriptions and areas of the ceiling decoration appearing on the
temple of Esna in Upper Egypt. The imagination is allowed to run free, and its
outcome are some rather grotesque composite figures. AE Patrick F. Houlihan is a graduate of the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor
and California State University, Sacramento. He has written scholarly and
popular articles on Egyptological topics for many journals and encyclopaedias.
His books include: The
Birds of Ancient Egypt, The Animal World of the Pharaohs, and most recently Wit
and Humour in Ancient Egypt (2001). His articles ‘Comic Relief in Ancient Egyptian
Art.’ appeared in Ancient Egypt Volume 2 no. 5 (2002); ‘Bird Life Along the
Ancient Nile.’ Part 1 and 2 in Ancient Egypt Volume 3 Issue 1 and 2 (2002).
Patrick Houlihan is American correspondent for AE magazine. Further
Reading Altenmüller, Hartwig., ‘Fabeltiere.’
Lexikon der Ägyptologie. Vol. 2. ed. by W. Helck, E. Otto and W. Westendorf.
(Wiesbaden, 1977), cols. 74-77; Fischer, Henry G., ‘A Fragment of Late
Predynastic Egyptian Relief from the Eastern Delta.’ Artibus Asiae 21 (1958),
pp. 64- 88; Fischer, Henry G., ‘Ungeheuer.’ Lexikon der Ägyptologie. Vol. 6. ed. by W. Helck, E. Otto and W. Westendorf.
(Wiesbaden, 1986), cols. 848-851; Fischer, Henry G., ‘The Ancient Egyptian
Attitude Towards the Monstrous.’ Monsters and Demons in the Ancient and Medieval Worlds.
Papers Presented in Honor of Edith Porada.
ed. by A.E. Farkas et al. (Mainz, 1987), pp. 13-26; Keimer, Ludwig.,
‘L’horreur des égyptiens pour les démons du désert.’ Bulletin de
l’Institut d’Égypte 26 (1944), pp. 135-147; Meeks, Dimitri., ‘Demons.’
and ‘Fantastic Animals.’ The Oxford
Encyclopedia of Ancient Egypt. Vol.
1. ed. by D. B. Redford. (Oxford and New York, 2001), pp. 375-378 and 504-507;
Pittman, Holly., ‘Constructing Context: The Gebel el-Arak Knife. Greater
Mesopotamian and Egyptian Interaction in the Late Fourth Millennium B.C.E.’ The Study of the
Ancient Near East in the Twenty-First Century.
ed. by J. S. Cooper and G. M. Schwartz. (Winona Lake, 1996), pp. 9-32. Acknowledgments and Sources of
the Figures I’m grateful to the
institutions and individuals named below for kindly providing me with
illustrations and generously granting permission to publish them. I must, once
again, extend thanks to The Wilbour Library of Egyptology, for helping me obtain
several journal articles needed to write this feature. Images page 14 and 15,
inset, are reproduced from K.M. Cialowicz, Les palettes égyptiennes aux motifs zoomorphes et sans décoration
(Kraków, 1991) pp. 47 and 53. By
courtesy of the author. Image page 16 is reproduced from J.E. Quibell, Archaic Objects. (Catalogue général des antiquités égyptiennes du
Musée du Caire) Vol. 2 (Cairo, 1905) p. 237. Image page 17, upper, is
reproduced from J. Baines, Archéo-Nil 3 (1993) pp. 60-61. By courtesy of the
Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. Image page 17, lower, is by courtesy of the Egyptian
Museum, Cairo. Images on page 18 (upper), page 21 upper left and lower, page 19
lower right are by Patrick Francis Houlihan. Images page 18 (lower left) and 19
(lower left) are reproduced from N. de Garis Davies, The Egyptian Expedition
1931-1932: Part 2 of the Bulletin of The Metropolitan Museum of Art 28 (1933) p.
27. By courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Image page 19 upper
is a copy reproduced from I. Rosellini, I monumenti dell’ Egitto e della
Nubia. Monumenti civili. Atlas (Pisa, 1834) pl. 23. Image page 20 below is a
facsimile by N. de Garis Davies. By courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art,
New York (33.8.14—Rogers Fund, 1933). Image page 20, wand (centre) is
by courtesy of the British Museum, London. Image page 20, wand (above ) is by
courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
(30.8.218—Theodore M. Davis Collection Bequest of Theodore M. Davis, 1915).
Image page 20, wand, lower, both views, is courtesy of the Musées Royaux
d’Art et d’Histoire, Brussels. Image page 21, upper right is a facsimile
reproduced from N.M. Davies and A.H. Gardiner, Tutankhamun’s Painted Box (Oxford, 1962) pl. 5. By courtesy of the Griffith
Institute, Oxford. Main image, page 15, is a facsimile reproduced from E.A.
Wallis Budge, Facsimile of the Papyrus of Ani in the British Museum 2nd ed. (London, 1894) pl. 3. Back to Ancient Egypt Magazine - Volume Three Issue Three contents
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