Book Review: Stelae of the Middle Kingdom and the Second Intermediate Period. Ägyptisches Museum und Papyrussammlung,Staatliche Museen zu Berlin

Here is another welcome addition to the Corpus Antiquitatum Aegyptiacarum (henceforth CAA) series, from two scholars whose incontestable expertise in presenting objects in museum collections is well known. This publication presents 33 stelae from the time periods announced in the title, but note that two of the Berlin Museum’s best-known Middle Kingdom stelae, those of Iykhernofret (No. 1204) and the hunter Kai (No. 22820), have not been included, presumably because they have already been reproduced well and often. All but a few of the pieces have long been known from the Aegyptischen Inschriften aus den Königlichen Museen zu Berlin (Leipzig, 1913), but this previous publication only offered hand-drawn hieroglyphs without translation or illustrations, which makes the present volume all the more appreciated. A number of distressing moments occur during the reading of the catalogue, when we learn that a given stela was badly damaged or altogether destroyed during the Second World War; for example, the entry for stela no. 1191, belonging to the High Steward Khenty-kheti-wer, offers an original photograph followed by an image of the few fragments left today (pp. 16–17). But only an original picture is left for many of these, and one must congratulate the authors for their dedicated efforts in working solely from old photographs, excellent though they may be.

The catalogue follows the well-known format of the CAA, with its template at the top of each object’s first page, followed by a full description of the representations; a translation of all the texts, which are presented in hieroglyphic font, including full references to Ranke’s PN for the names; a copious and erudite commentary on the titles found in the texts, as well as on family, household, or work relationships among the participants; remarks on palaeography, where small cut-out photographs of particular hieroglyphs have been cleverly added to the page to discuss specific features of the signs, all of which are properly identified with their Sign List number; technical details on the condition of the piece; a history of the object; a bibliography, and additional literature cited in the commentary. This is about as detailed a commentary as the somewhat limiting CAA format will allow, and the authors are to be thanked for it. The last two pages of each object’s entry then conclude with typeset hieroglyphs that indicate the original layout of the texts on the stela, and a photograph. Notwithstanding how formulaic such texts can be, impressive readings of some difficult signs are found, such as the phrase nbt ỉmȝḫ before a seated female figure in stela no. 7319, where the last sign is not only poorly executed but also written retrograde. The Index in the introductory booklet contains the list of stelae presented, as well as indices of private names, titles, and the various instances where the palaeography of specific hieroglyphic signs are discussed; objects from different museums mentioned in the commentaries; and a general index. The latter is where we find a number of so-called ANOC Groups mentioned in the commentaries, to which the following entries can be added: ANOC Group nos 18 (stela no. 7286, p. 48), 31 (stela no. 1192, p. 19), 40 (stela no. 1191, p. 14), and 65 (stela no. 7287, p. 52). There is a list of private names but not of royal names. The following can be added to the Index: Mentuhotep II (no. 1197, p. 22), Senwosret I (no. 1192, p. 14), Amenemhat II (no. 1190, p. 23), Amenemhat III (no. 1198, p. 25), and kings Neferhotep I to

Sobekhotep IV (no. 7732, p. 115). One thing that strikes the reader is how few examples of ỉry-pʽt (for which, see rpʽ on p. XII of the Index) are found in the list of titles; perhaps the Berlin collection mostly contains Middle Kingdom stelae from the mid-level range of the social hierarchy, which is noteworthy in itself.

Along the way, we are treated to precise and at times particularly apt translations of certain words, e.g., the noun akh translated as ‘supernatural ability’ and the opening of the so-called Abydos Formula rendered as ‘May be said to me’, which has a lovely ring to it. The phrase ỉn sȝ.f sʽnḫ rn.f is translated as ‘By his son, who causes his name to live’. In such cases, it is tempting to parse the phrase as a participial statement and render ‘it is his son who causes …’, but a few instances make the authors’ translation unassailable. In no. 7309, the caption above and before the figure of a man facing the stela owner while holding a papyrus scroll in his lowered left hand and raising his right in the ‘speaking gesture’ reads ỉrt ḥtp-dỉ-nswt ỉn ẖry-ḥbt N, ‘performing the “offering-that-the-king-has-given” invocation by the Lector Priest N’. Another instance of a priest also said to be ‘performing the “offering-that-the-king-has-given” invocation’ (no. 13675) presents a noteworthy design. His right arm is held high as he recites the ritual formula, but his raised forearm and hand break up the vertical incised line delineating the first column of text before him. Above his hand is the verb ỉrt while below the hand is the rest of the phrase, ḥtp-dỉ-nswt ỉn N, almost as if the hand were illustrating the narrative infinitive ‘performing’. This may or may not have been intentional, but it may also be the kind of playfulness in which an ancient Egyptian artist might have indulged.

Other noteworthy iconographic features are unusual details in otherwise formulaic scenes. Examples are stela no. 1200 where a sem-priest faces the stela owner, holding a kerchief in his left hand while his right holds the beginning of the tail of his leopard skin robe; the mid-Thirteenth Dynasty stela no. 7311 shows the seated stela owner wearing both a short pleated kilt and a longer transparent flaring outer kilt; and the previously mentioned no. 13675, where a child is shown sitting on her mother’s lap. For stela no. 7282, I certainly would not dispute the dating of the stela to late Thirteenth Dynasty (p. 41), but the rendering of the ‘stick’ figures is remarkably similar to those seen on the stelae of the famous soldier Khuwisobek from the late Twelfth Dynasty. ¹ Another interesting iconographic detail is from the main register in stela no. 7300 where the stela owner is facing two women and one man. The first woman is labelled ‘his mother’ while the one behind her is said to be ‘her mother’, thus presumably the man’s mother-in-law. The representation of both women is exactly the same, which might serve as a good example to use when explaining to our students or the public at large that ancient Egyptian images of people should not be taken literally.

A few slips of the pen have crept into the manuscript, most of which do not alter the meaning of the narrative, but a few corrections might be warranted. In the description of the standing woman behind the owner in stela no. 1188, the arms are improperly labelled: it is the left hand which holds the lotus while the right arm hangs down; similarly, in no. 1197, the seated woman rests her hand on the man’s left – not right – shoulder. The wig worn by the owner of stela no. 1200 is said to be a bag wig (p. 32), but it looks more like a shoulder-length striated wig which covers the ears and is not rounded at the bottom. Stelae nos 7286 and 7300 are said to date to the ‘[Early 12^th Dynasty]’ (pp. 46 and 68, respectively), but one wonders whether a dating to the Thirteenth Dynasty was meant all along for the two stelae, given the presence of the udjat-eyes, which only appear in the late Twelfth Dynasty onward, ² and the fact that the comparative material offered for both pieces (pp. 48 and 69, respectively) is from the later date. In stela no. 7288, the first divinity mentioned in the Offering Formula is Osiris, not Anubis; and in no. 7732, the epithets of Anubis in the lunette are reversed in the translation. No. 7296, caption no. 11 should read ‘his brother’ instead of ‘his son’. A number of typographical errors were noted, e.g., in the bibliography for stela no. 13721, read PM VII, 84 instead of 87 (p. 133); and on p. 74, the numbering of the translation of lines 7–11 of stela no. 7309 should read numbers 8–12 rather than 7–11. However, some of these errors may be due to unintended electronic malfunctions. In nos 1198, 7287, and 31222, the Chevereau 1991 article in the bibliographical apparatus should read ‘cadres militaires’ instead of ‘cadres militaries’. Do we see the work of the nefarious autocorrect gremlin here?

Such is the richness of this catalogue that one could go on finding ever more information within its pages. It is in this light that I permit myself a few extra lines to extrapolate additional details from the collection.

As expected, measurements are given for each piece, from which a number of observations can be offered. Stela no. 1192 is 105 cm high and 67.5 cm wide, which – in ancient Egyptian terms – comes out to two cubits high ³ by one cubit and one Double Palm (2/7 of a cubit) wide; stela no. 7280 is 96 cm high by 60 cm wide, which converts to one cubit and one (short) Small Cubit (6/7 of a cubit) high by one cubit and one palm wide; stela no. 7282 is 38 cm high by 26 cm wide, which is one (long) remen (5/7 of a cubit) by one (short) Great Span (1/2 a cubit); no. 7288 is 57 cm high by 30 cm wide, which converts to one cubit and 2.5 fingers by one djeser (4/7 of a cubit); no. 7311 is 55.5 cm high by 33.5 cm wide, which is one cubit and two (short) fingers by one (long) djeser; and stela no. 7312 is 43 cm high by 31 cm wide, which converts to one (short) Small Cubit by one (short) djeser. Notwithstanding that this is admittedly a rather small sampling and that some of the figures are approximate, it can be seen that most of the measurements fall within the range of well attested divisions of cubits, which may not be a coincidence. An additional noteworthy set of measurements is the ratio of width to height in the pieces. These show that nine stelae, ⁴ or more than one quarter of the objects presented, show a ratio of between 57–63% of the width compared to the height, with a number of these showing close to a 60% ratio of width to height. An additional six pieces ⁵ show a ratio of between 68–71% of the width compared to the height. This may mean that the craftsmen had certain ratios in mind when quickly measuring their stones for eventual decoration.

As an exercise, and working from the photograph reproduced on p. 30, I also took measurements of the various sections of one stela, no. 1198 (pp. 26–30), which is said to be 53 by 37 cm, or one long cubit by one slightly short remen and a ratio of width to height close to 70%. For the following figures, I put my faith in the excellent photograph, hoping that my measurements match those on the actual object. From this, I have calculated that the decoration of the stela is 51.5 cm high by 35.8 cm wide, or a short cubit by a short remen. The lunette at the top, which shows two lotus flowers underneath two udjat-eyes, measures approximately 13.3 cm, or slightly longer than one quarter of a cubit. The next section, a register with three lines of horizontal text which contains the Offering Formula, also measures 13.3 cm. This gives us a slightly long Great Span (pḏt ʽȝt) for these two sections, or approximately one half of a cubit. Under this is the main scene, showing the owner seated with his wife before whom are hieroglyphs naming family members and possibly work colleagues; this register measures 18.9 cm, or around two and a half palms. Below this are two more horizontal registers of text, ⁶ where the army scribe Khenmes relates his trip upriver in Amenemhat III’s 25^th year to recruit young people (ḥwnw-nfrw), presumably for crown work; this lowest portion of the decoration measures 5.9 cm, or approximately three slightly long fingers. At 24.8 cm, the main scene and the lower text represent a short Great Span, or another – albeit short – one half of a cubit.

One wonders whether we can imagine the craftsperson using the following scenario when first measuring his limestone block to decorate the stela. He started at the top of the stone to delineate the space for two crucial segments of the decoration: first would come the all-important udjat-eyes, potent symbols of divine protection, ⁷ followed by the text containing the magical – and vital – incantation of the Offering Formula. He allowed half of a cubit for these two sections. He then moved his (presumably wooden and possibly worn) measuring rod down the rock to calculate another half a cubit, but quickly realized the stone had been cut too short for that particular measure in full. So, instead of the full three and a half palms he had used earlier, he allocated a space of two and a half palms for the scene showing the patron who commissioned the work, and then did his best to split the remaining portion of the stone to accommodate the two registers of text. No proof can of course be offered for this scenario, but it does takes into account the various dimensions of the decoration.

This last – perhaps too fanciful – set of remarks demonstrates how important such artefacts can be in attempting to reconstruct ancient Egyptian society. From onomastics offering family and social relationships to the plethora of titles helping to understand the management of the country, and from officials of the central administration down to the humblest stone worker, all are somehow present in these Middle Kingdom stelae in the collection of the Berlin Museum. It remains for me to thank the two authors once again for their masterful work in presenting these objects to us.

Ronald J. LeprohonUniversity of Toronto, Canada