INTRODUCTION.
When, in the year 1892, Sir Peter Le Page Renouf began the publication of his translation of the Book of the Dead, his intention was that the work, once completed, should be preceded by an elaborate Introduction, giving, besides all the information concerning the form and the history of the book, his views as to its sense and its religious value.
As with the unfinished part of the translation,[[1]] so here, we are left without any notes or any clue whatever as to the form which this introduction was to have taken, and we are obliged to resort to the fifth of the Hibbert lectures, given by Renouf in 1879, in order to know his views about the book.[[2]]
Before speaking of its contents, we have to state briefly under what form the book has come down to us. It is hardly necessary to repeat that it is no book at all in the ordinary sense of the word. It is neither a unity nor a whole, it is a collection which has grown by degrees, at various epochs. Undoubtedly part of it goes back as far as the Old Empire; the texts of the Middle Empire show already that there were various editions, and we are forced to admit that its origin is not much later than the beginning of Egyptian civilization, as we see that some of the rubrics attribute certain chapters to a king of the 1st dynasty. In the course of centuries the original text was modified and enlarged, new chapters were added, revisions were made, without casting these detached fragments into a whole. The various parts of the book were always independent, like the Hebrew Psalms; the acceptance of a chapter does not necessarily imply the acceptance of the next chapter, and it seems as if the relatives of the deceased chose in the collection which was at their disposal what they liked best, and the number of chapters which corresponded to the price they wished to pay for a papyrus.
This description applies chiefly to the texts of the Book of the Dead of the period prior to the XXVIth dynasty. Under the Saïte kings it seems that a complete revision of the text was made; a definite order was adopted, which was not rigidly binding on the writers, but to which they generally adhered; various chapters were added, especially the last ones, 162-165, which are never found in the older copies. It seems also that something like what we should call an authorized version was adopted; and this was done by men to whom the book was hardly intelligible. A great many glosses were introduced, which were copied afterwards in all the hieroglyphic and hieratic texts. Although we do not find the strict accuracy of Hebrew manuscripts, the number of variants in the Saïte, Ptolemaïc or Roman texts is considerably smaller than in the manuscripts of the Theban period, and a collation of the hundreds of papyri of late epoch which fill our museums would lead to no great result.
However, it is from a text generally considered as Saïtic, but which I believe to be of the Ptolemaïc epoch, that the Book of the Dead has been first made known in all its extent. In 1842 Lepsius published the long papyrus in the Turin Museum, a document which he called “the largest piece of Egyptian literature which has been preserved.”
Before him Champollion had seen it, and had noticed that a great number of repetitions of the same text existed in various museums. He made use of it in his grammar, quoted here and there a sentence taken from it, but he did not make a special study of the document. Lepsius understood at once the importance of the book, which was the vade-mecum of the deceased, and seeing how much more extensive the Turin Papyrus was than the short copies which had been published before, he traced the whole document and published it two years afterwards.
Lepsius gave to this work the name of Todtenbuch, “Book of the Dead,” in opposition to the name of “Ritual” adopted by Champollion, which is certainly incorrect. It is no Ritual; a few chapters with a ritualistic character have been introduced into it; for instance, the chapter connected with the ceremony of “opening the mouth of the deceased,” which is occasionally met with, or Chapter 171, “chapter of wrapping up (the deceased) in a pure garment;” but these are rare exceptions. On the whole the Book of the Dead differs widely from a Ritual. It is not the priest who speaks, there are no minute prescriptions as to how a ceremony is to be performed; all the prayers and hymns are put in the deceased’s mouth, it is he whose speech is supposed to be heard in the other world.
Todtenbuch, Book of the Dead, is not a translation of the Egyptian title, which is: book of
pert m hru. As Renouf says, “Three simple words, perfectly unambiguous when taken singly, but by no means easy of explanation when taken together without a context;” and in fact at the present day no final translation has been given of these three words. Renouf translates, “coming forth by day,” as will be seen in the numerous examples which occur in this volume; but several objections may be raised against this interpretation, to which we should prefer, “coming out of the day,” the day being the period of a man’s life, having its morning and its evening.
The book is divided into fragments called
, to each of which Lepsius has given a number, following the order of the great Turin Papyrus, and which he calls chapters. Although his numbering is not quite correct, it has been adhered to in all the subsequent editions.
In his lecture[[3]] on the Book of the Dead, Renouf insists on the difficulty of translating it: “Nothing can exceed the simplicity and the brevity of the sentences; and yet the difficulties which a translator has to overcome are very great. In the first place, the text is extremely corrupt. The unsatisfactory condition of the text is owing to different causes. The reasons which writers on Hebrew, Greek or Latin palæography have enumerated for the purpose of accounting for mistakes in manuscripts, apply with much greater force to the funereal manuscripts of the Egyptians; for as these were not intended to be seen by any mortal eye, but to remain for ever undisturbed in the tomb, the unconscientious scribe had no such check upon his carelessness as if his work were liable to be subjected to the constant inspection of the living. But the most conscientious scribe might easily commit numerous errors. Many of them are to be traced to a confusion between signs which resemble each other in the cursive, or as it is called, the hieratic character, but not in hieroglyphic writing.
“Besides the errors of copyists, there are different readings, the origin of which is to be traced to the period during which the chapters were handed down by word of mouth only. There are copies which bear evidence that a critical choice has been made between the different readings of a passage, but the common practice was to admit the inconsistent readings into the text itself....
“Some of the variants have unquestionably arisen from the difficulty of understanding the ancient texts. I have no doubt whatever that some of the chapters of the Book of the Dead were as obscure to Egyptians living under the eleventh dynasty as they are to ourselves.... The most accurate knowledge of the Egyptian vocabulary and grammar will however not suffice to pierce the obscurity arising from what M. de Rougé called symbols or allegories, which are in fact simple mythological allusions. The difficulty is not in literally translating the text, but in understanding the meaning which lies concealed beneath familiar words.”
These words of Renouf have still a very great force, although in the last twenty years some progress has been made towards a better understanding of the text. When Renouf gave the above description of the difficulties of the translation, the main source from which he could derive his information was what he called “the corrupt Turin text.” Since then a critical edition has been made.[[4]] It is based on texts of the XVIIIth and XIXth dynasties, written at a time when the intelligence of the book was not lost to the same extent as under the Saïtes or the Ptolemies, as may be ascertained from the considerable number of glosses introduced into the Turin text which are absent from the older versions. This edition has been compiled from various papyri, as the older ones are much shorter than the later ones; it is not a single document like Lepsius’s Todtenbuch; most of the chapters have been found in their old form; a few are missing, but a good number have been added to the list which have fallen out of the late versions. Generally it is from this critical text that Renouf made his translation. Occasionally he may choose an older version from a tomb, or perhaps a papyrus of the British Museum, but he hardly ever reverts to the Turin Todtenbuch unless he has no other resource at his disposal.
Nevertheless the difficulties which Renouf enumerates are only partly removed. We are still very far from being able to give a final translation of the Book of the Dead, and I have no doubt that Renouf would repeat about his own work what he says of Dr. Birch’s translation, “Many parts of it, where most faithful to the original, must in consequence of that very fidelity be utterly unintelligible to an English reader.”
No doubt Renouf’s translation is a great step towards making the book more intelligible; still the reader may often stumble over sentences out of which it is hardly possible to make a reasonable sense, in spite of their grammatical correctness, and which at first sight will seem childish, not to say, with Renouf, “outrageous nonsense.” But we may say with certainty that they were not so to the old Egyptians. Under this extraordinary or even ridiculous garment may be hidden some very simple, or even elementary truths. Let us remember that we have not yet unravelled all the intricacies of the Egyptian mythology, which plays such an important part in the book. Moreover, we only begin now to understand how the Egyptians expressed abstract ideas. When we speak of passion, shame, remorse, hope, we have so thoroughly lost sight of the concrete element in these words, that we are apt to forget that originally they must have been metaphors, and that they must have expressed something striking the senses, and connected with the material world. An instance will illustrate the difficulty in this translation.
Chapter 112 relates how, owing to an imprudent request, Horus was the victim of Sutu, who inflicted a wound on his eye, which caused him great suffering, and the text adds:
, lo! he ate his heart. Renouf translates, “and wrath devoured his heart.” I should prefer, “he regretted sorely (his foolish request).” I believe to eat one’s heart to mean, “to feel regret, repentance, or remorse.” There the abstract meaning is not difficult to find out; but in other cases, as long as we have not discovered the key to the metaphor, we may go far astray, or if we do not go beyond the literal explanation, we miss the abstract sense, which is the true one.
However, because the work will not bear the character of finality, because some obscurities will not be removed, and some difficulties remain unsolved, there is no reason why a scholar like Renouf should have shrunk from attempting the translation of the Book of the Dead, a work which he had before his eyes for years, and which he considered as the crown of his Egyptological labours.
The lecture quoted above gives us Renouf’s ideas as to the purpose and the sense of the book: it is the beatification of the dead considered in three aspects:
The renewed existence “as upon earth.” The deceased enjoys an existence similar to that which he has led upon earth; he has the use of his limbs, he eats and drinks and satisfies every one of his physical wants exactly as in his former life. The gods themselves minister to him occasionally, and contribute to his welfare and to his pleasures. The bliss of the future state consists chiefly in the pleasures of agricultural life.
Transformation. The deceased has the range of the entire universe in every shape and form he desires. He can assume any appearance he likes. But these transformations are not forced upon him; he has no definite series to go through; they depend simply on his pleasure.
Identification with Osiris and other gods. The identification with Osiris, which is already mentioned in the earliest parts of the book, is taken for granted later on, since the name of the deceased is always preceded by “Osiris.” He may be assimilated to other gods; for instance, in the 42nd chapter every limb is assimilated to a different deity. This Osirian nature gives the deceased the power to triumph over the numerous enemies whom he has to face.
To these three benefits which the book confers on the deceased we should add a fourth: viz., complete preservation from dismemberment and decay. There is evidently in some of the prayers a remembrance of a time when the deceased were dismembered at their burial; and this way of treating the corpse is for the deceased an object of horror. The frequent mention of reconstituting the body, the promises that no part of it shall be taken away, all this shows of what supreme importance it was for him that his body should remain intact. Without a well preserved body there could be no life in the other world; its destruction implies the destruction of the whole individual. This belief is the origin of mummification, for decay is the strongest agent of dismemberment and the certain ruin of the body.
These are the outlines of the principal tenets of the Book of the Dead. If we inquire where they originated, there is no doubt that the bulk of the book came from Heliopolis. It is the doctrine of that ancient city and of its priests. Some of the chapters may be attributed to the priests at Abydos, as M. Maspero suggests; but it seems certain that, except for a small part, the birthplace of the Book of the Dead is the city of Ra Tmu, the place connected with the oldest religious traditions of the country, and which may rightly be called the religious capital of Egypt.
January, 1904.
Edouard Naville.
[1]. See [Introductory Note to Chapter CXL].
[2]. The Hibbert Lectures, 1879, p. 172.
[3]. See also Life Work, t. III, p. 51, “The title of the Book of the Dead,” and p. 59, “The Egyptian Book of the Dead.”
[4]. Das Aegyptische Todtenbuch der XVIII bis XX Dynastie, zusammengestellt und herausgegeben von Edouard Naville, Berlin, 1886.
BOOK OF THE DEAD.