at Abu Simbel just as the god Ra is retreating from the heavens with his great sun disk. I am anxious to see the completed building in person, finally. Now that I am here, I am speechless. It is mammoth in size and shocking to behold. It makes me feel insignificant, meaningless.
Carved into the temple’s façade are four gargantuan sculptures of Ramses the Great. Four gigantic statues seated in a row and staring off into the distance. Four faces displaying the wisdom of the ages. These colossi are not only imposing but magnificently rendered. Each individual statue is a masterpiece of artistic accomplishment in which the thick - lipped, stiff - bearded, staff - holding Ramses forever admires the breathtaking view before him.
In addition to the four principal figures, there are diminutive daughters and wives of the pharaoh at their feet. Even though they are cut from cold, hard stone, they seem very much alive. I must remember to ask Majesty Father which one is supposed to be me.
I look up and spy baboon statues lined up above the outer temple. They stand on the pylon’s precipice, as though encouraging the sun to deliver its light with their overly long arms outstretched toward the cloudless desert sky.
Amun hangs in the background and greets me with brusqueness. I am as chilly in return as I can possibly be while maintaining an air of rudimentary politeness. Baketmut stands next to him, glaring at me smugly. She knows it won’t be long before he is free to torment me at his leisure.
I look back at the statues and admire them. How handsome they look. The stone carvers took great care in making sure that Majesty Father is represented as rugged, strong. While he is rather aged in real life (they say he has reached the middle of his forties!), his mouth contorts from dental discomfort, and his hands twist from arthritis. Yet at the front of this temple, he will be forever young and vibrant.
Majesty Father pulls me aside with a look of consternation on his face. “As you know, I was not meant to be pharaoh. My brother Nebchasetnebet was groomed for that. Then he died of the bleeding sickness, and Anubis led him to the great kingdom of the afterlife. I was forced to take on the role. It was not a position I would have sought out for myself, but sometimes in life things change in an instant. I thought my brother was invincible, and never pictured him dying, or myself becoming such a celebrated leader.”
“What are you saying, Majesty Father?” I demand…well, in the gentle manner a subject demands something from her king.
“Daughter, you shall not be marrying your brother, the crown prince. Instead, he shall be joined with Baketmut.”
How can this be? My prayers have been answered! But I cannot let my excitement show too overtly. Perhaps Kha is not the villain I had once imagined. Why did I ever feel that way? Clearly feminine instinct is not always correct. Now Baketmut shall take Amun! This could not be better. They seem to get along as siblings should. Their union has the potential to be a happy one.
And for a fleeting moment, I am happy, until I realize the full ramifications of this announcement — that Baketmut will be queen. I never cared about becoming monarch myself, but I do worry that the two of them in conjunction will bring ruin to our kingdom.
Despite my misgivings and feelings of impending doom and devastation, I try to rejoice in the newfound knowledge of my freedom.
“I know that you have long wished for the throne, but things have taken a different turn.”
Majesty Mother walks over to insert herself into the conversation. “My husband, God on Earth, I am most pleased with my temple,” she coos gratefully.
“Though it does not do you justice, my love. You are the one for whom the sun shines,” says my father.
Majesty Mother grins, extending her neck to look even more regal, delighting in the moment. “Pray tell. What are you discussing?”
“The gods have spoken to me through the
Carved into the temple’s façade are four gargantuan sculptures of Ramses the Great. Four gigantic statues seated in a row and staring off into the distance. Four faces displaying the wisdom of the ages. These colossi are not only imposing but magnificently rendered. Each individual statue is a masterpiece of artistic accomplishment in which the thick - lipped, stiff - bearded, staff - holding Ramses forever admires the breathtaking view before him.
In addition to the four principal figures, there are diminutive daughters and wives of the pharaoh at their feet. Even though they are cut from cold, hard stone, they seem very much alive. I must remember to ask Majesty Father which one is supposed to be me.
I look up and spy baboon statues lined up above the outer temple. They stand on the pylon’s precipice, as though encouraging the sun to deliver its light with their overly long arms outstretched toward the cloudless desert sky.
Amun hangs in the background and greets me with brusqueness. I am as chilly in return as I can possibly be while maintaining an air of rudimentary politeness. Baketmut stands next to him, glaring at me smugly. She knows it won’t be long before he is free to torment me at his leisure.
I look back at the statues and admire them. How handsome they look. The stone carvers took great care in making sure that Majesty Father is represented as rugged, strong. While he is rather aged in real life (they say he has reached the middle of his forties!), his mouth contorts from dental discomfort, and his hands twist from arthritis. Yet at the front of this temple, he will be forever young and vibrant.
Majesty Father pulls me aside with a look of consternation on his face. “As you know, I was not meant to be pharaoh. My brother Nebchasetnebet was groomed for that. Then he died of the bleeding sickness, and Anubis led him to the great kingdom of the afterlife. I was forced to take on the role. It was not a position I would have sought out for myself, but sometimes in life things change in an instant. I thought my brother was invincible, and never pictured him dying, or myself becoming such a celebrated leader.”
“What are you saying, Majesty Father?” I demand…well, in the gentle manner a subject demands something from her king.
“Daughter, you shall not be marrying your brother, the crown prince. Instead, he shall be joined with Baketmut.”
How can this be? My prayers have been answered! But I cannot let my excitement show too overtly. Perhaps Kha is not the villain I had once imagined. Why did I ever feel that way? Clearly feminine instinct is not always correct. Now Baketmut shall take Amun! This could not be better. They seem to get along as siblings should. Their union has the potential to be a happy one.
And for a fleeting moment, I am happy, until I realize the full ramifications of this announcement — that Baketmut will be queen. I never cared about becoming monarch myself, but I do worry that the two of them in conjunction will bring ruin to our kingdom.
Despite my misgivings and feelings of impending doom and devastation, I try to rejoice in the newfound knowledge of my freedom.
“I know that you have long wished for the throne, but things have taken a different turn.”
Majesty Mother walks over to insert herself into the conversation. “My husband, God on Earth, I am most pleased with my temple,” she coos gratefully.
“Though it does not do you justice, my love. You are the one for whom the sun shines,” says my father.
Majesty Mother grins, extending her neck to look even more regal, delighting in the moment. “Pray tell. What are you discussing?”
“The gods have spoken to me through the
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