Meditative fiction on Aset for the 4th Epagomenal Day 2018.
I don’t work with Her but it is pretty much impossible to read about Egyptian mythology without finding out loads about Her, and there is also a lot of UPG coming from my interactions with other deities from Her family. I am exaggerating plot points for narrative/dramatic effect but as always I mean no disrespect.
Meditative fiction on Aset for the 4th Epagomenal Day 2018.
I don’t work with Her but it is pretty much impossible to read about Egyptian mythology without finding out loads about Her, and there is also a lot of UPG coming from my interactions with other deities from Her family. I am exaggerating plot points for narrative/dramatic effect but as always I mean no disrespect.
Heru has freckles because one of his epithets is He of Speckled Plumage. Seth and Nebt-Het have them because UPG.
Their hut on the island of Chemmis is a far cry from Osiris’ kingly palace, but by now it feels quite homey.
Chemmis is far away from the court, from intrigue and danger. It is safe because of its isolation in the almost impenetrable marshes of the Delta and Aset knows she and her sister couldn’t keep on running and hiding in plain sight even if she wanted to.
The quest to retrive all the scattered pieces of her beloved husband, the magic she has woven to revive Osiris and transmutate him into the King of the Duat, the stress of finding him again, of talking, touching, loving him again and then immediately losing him, the grief, the demands of pregnancy and delivery; she has ben through a lot, and it has left her physically and emotionally drained, too exhausted to keep a step ahead of Seth and his minions.
Now she has someone else to look after too, someone innocent and vulnerable, the last gift Osiris has left her.
Little Heru, her son, legitimate heir to the throne of Osiris. He’s the only reason she has kept going on at all after losing Osiris again, the only reason she’s not let herself die too to be with him forever.
Even now at times she feels too tired to go on, she feels like she only wants to lay down and sleep forever, but she can’t. Not yet.
If Osiris’s death could not be fixed with her magic, it will be avenged by his son. And for that she needs to live, she needs to make sure he grows strong and wise, smart and fair, she needs to make sure he is prepared for his quest, for his sacred duty.
This is a task she cannot entrust anyone else: not to her sister with her conflicted loyalties and the love she still bears to her murderous bastard of a husband, in spite of everything; not to her loyal friends who followed her into this self-imposed exile. This is something that she needs to do herself.
One day her grief will find closure with the defeat of the Usurper, but that day is long in coming. For now all she can do is look after her son, keep him safe and sound and make sure he grows into the man he needs to be.
Aset cradles him to her chest, rocking him gently. Apart from the inky curls on his head and perhaps the straight line of his nose, he does not look much like his father. He has her copper skin, but there are dark dots scattered across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, freckles like those on the face of her sister, like those all over the Usurper’s sand-coloured skin, and his eyes are a light, undefined colour, something between purplish, blue and grey. Nebt-Het says it is notmal, that her son Anup was born like that too, but she is terrified that they will end up being the colour of storm-clouds like the Usurper’s. She doesn’t want him a to have a claim to any part of her son.
And yet, when she allows herself to think that thought she knows that in truth she is raising Heru to be his in a way: his nemesis, his defeat, his death even, but his nevertheless.
Those days she wishes she was never anything but what she claims to be, a peasant woman on the run from a cruel, abusive village headsman, seeking to restart a new life somewhere safe and welcoming, she whishes that she didn’t have to look out for the Usurper’s minions, that she didn’t have to hide her powers and bide her time, to raise her only son, her only love, her only joy to be a weapon.
She whishes that this quiet village in the marshes was all the future held for her and her son, that she could just watch Heru grow up and become a fisherman like the rest, that he could just find a good wife in the next village and have a bunch of pretty, ordinary children, that she could grow old mending nets and minding her grandchildren, that no more challenges or suffering were in store for any of them, but none of this is really possible.
She has her duty and he his, and yet sometimes she weeps not just for the life that they lost together with Osiris, but also for the ones that they can’t have.
Meditative fiction on Heru on the 2nd Epagomenal Day 2018.
This is mostly about Heru Sa-Aset, with dashes of Heru-Wer. I have to say that I don’t interact very much with them, but my personal understanding is that they are two temporally distinct versions (pre-osirian and post-osirian) of the same general entity, the falcon deity of the sky and regality.
Meditative fiction on Heru on the 2nd Epagomenal Day 2018.
This is mostly about Heru Sa-Aset, with dashes of Heru-Wer. I have to say that I don’t interact very much with them, but my personal understanding is that they are two temporally distinct versions (pre-osirian and post-osirian) of the same general entity, the falcon deity of the sky and regality.
Same as people generally don’t say that there are two Seths (even though a minority of scholars do), but just different ways of seeing the same deity depending on the historical and mythological context, I don’t feel like separating the pre-osirian and post-osirian Herus so rigidly does Them any justice.
Granted, Heru Sa-Aset can be thought of as a less “wide/vast” deity because He is portrayed as more explicitly humanized and vulnerable, because His mythical parable is sort of subservient to that of Osiris and Isis, who are both rather large characters, especially Isis, and because the narrative He’s most known for is rather like a Farmhand-to-Royalty classic fantasy/fairytale trope, but I feel that the original mythologic kernel, that of the battle for the kingdom between Him and Seth remains the same, and that by winning Heru son of Isis graduates to becoming an adult and a king in his own right, Horus the Great.
So, following the footsteps of Gwyn Griffiths and of Bernard Mathieu I am going to go ahead with the idea that both Herus are aspects of the same deity.
Horus-centric, with appearances from Aset, Nebt-Het, Hathor, Ra and generally the Greater Ennead. I am conflating several different versions of the myth for narrative/dramatic reasons. I mean no disrespect.
FYI, Seth’s weapon in the flashback sequence is a homage to a very sethian character in Star Wars.
CW: implied violence, wounds, injuries, injuries to the eyes, angst, language, messed up relationships.
The double crown, the crown of Geb his grandfather, is heavy on his head, but at least it doesn’t burn him, not like it did his father before.
A wry smile appears on his lips. At least in this he’s better than his beloved father, he thinks, but then immediately suppresses that ungrateful thought. He’s better than that, he tells himself. He’s the King now, he needs to act the part and not whine and huff like the immature kid many still take him to be.
He straightens on the throne, trying to make himself look taller, more imposing, more like the adult warrior who defeated the strongest of the netjeru in single combat than like the boy from Chemmis who still dreams of his free, simple life between the marshes and the sea.
With his one good eye he surveys the gathered Ennead. His other eye and most of his face throb with pain after his foe’s final assault and the fierce glare of the sun is doing nothing for his headache, but he can’t allow himself any weakness.
His mother sits next to him on a smaller chair, a step below his on the dais, his wife Hathor on the opposite side, and one step below sits his aunt Nebt-Het, wrapped head to toe in a veil that leaves her face obscured, so that no one can divine what she’s feeling. Her head is turned away from the figure heaped in the dirt at the bottom of the dais, whether in disgust, residual fear or because she doesn’t want to see him come to harm Heru cannot tell.
Seth, finally defeated, lies in the dirt bound by unbreakable fetters that Geb has wrought with his magic. While he was knocked out by his mother’s and his wife’s magic as they tried to heal him, he must have tried to rebel against the guards, because, as far as he remembers, he wasn’t that messed up at the end of their duel.
Or maybe the guards just wanted to prove their loyalty to their new king by beating the crap out of their wounded, fettered former master.
Horus feels a wave of irritation rise within him, but somehow manages to suppress the implulse of pinching the bridge of his nose. Given the current state of his face, that sounds like a really bad idea.
Seth’s face doesn’t look much better now. His big, hooked nose is probably broken, his lips are split and his skin is covered in welts and bruises, but somehow he still manages to push himself to his knees and look up at him with a defiant air, as if to dare him to do his worse.
Heru knows that some in his court want him to show his strength by executing the rebel. His life for Osiris’s life. It seems fitting, it seems justice, but Heru cannot bring himself to do it.
It’s not just that without Seth to defend it from the s/nake every day the Solar Barque and all Creation would be at risk, it’s also that somehow he feels as if he owed the red-haired bastard this much.
He does owe him, in fact.
His mother might have told him about magic and politics and his life as a fisherman in the marshes might have taught him prudence, patience and leadership, but for good or for worse it has been Seth and not his defunct father the one who has taught him how to be ( or most often how not to be) a king.
He’s worked hard to be in the position he is now, he’s risked all.
He’s stronger, wiser, much more resilient thanks to their struggle, to him really. In a distorted, messed up way, Seth has been more of a father figure to him that Osiris could ever dream of be from his throne in the Duat.
“Now you really look like Heru the Great, brother mine. It is an honour to fight against you.” Seth told him just before their duel, with his usual manic grin and an ironic bow.
Heru suspects that it was just yet another move to throw him off-balance for the fight, like deciding to fight with a spear with an iron top at either end of the shaft, but in that moment he had been too happy to care.
It’s incredible how much those words, that recognition, meant to him. Even now, if he thinks about it, he can almost imagine (remember, deep inside his bones) an alternate reality in which there is no vengeance, no baggage, just the two of them, sword in hand, fighting for the crown, in which after the fight there is no humiliation or punishment, just healing, reconciliation. The two of them, working together, almost reigning together, their flaws and strengths balanced by the other, complete and whole.
Heru mourns the loss of that never-was (long past, overwritten) world. He wonders if Seth can imagine (remember) it too, but he didn’t have the courage to ask then, and now is definitely not the right time for any activity with any potential for humiliation.
If he discharges his duty to the end, completing his quest for justice with the death of the murderer, of the regicide, of the traitor, that moment, that dream (memory) of a happier, simpler time will disappear forever and he can’t… he can’t take it. It would hurt, almost as much as the loss of his eye. It would be almost as if another part of him was torn out of him.
He has already given the cause and his father enough. He’s given them his innocence, his sweat and tears, his blood, the last eighty years of his life, his eye. They can’t have this. No, this belongs to him only.
His silence has already lasted too long, though, and the Ennead is getting restless. Eighty years of trial have ahown him how badly things can get out of hand thanks to them. He needs to get to a deliberation soon, but how?
In desperation he turns towards the only one who can understand him at the moment: not his mother, not his beloved aunt, not his former protectors or his wife, but his nemesis.
He turns to Seth, boring into him with the gaze of his only remaining eye, willing him to repent, or at least pretend to, to bow his head and ask for mercy, for a grace he is only too willing to give, but of course the stubborn bastard only tries to stand taller. He’s not going to yield, not even now.
“Do you realise you are going to die?!” He thinks, probably hard enough for him to overhear it, but of course there is no reply and his heart nearly shatters.
The mutterings of the crowd are getting louder and louder. Time has ran out, he has to do something.
He speaks. Him mother and his protectors have taught him everything about rhetoric and it is so ingrained in him that he must do a pretty good job of his inaugural speech even through the daze of pain and his churning feelings.
The crown has never felt heavier, and through the haze he asks himself if this is in a way his last trial for kingship, to let go of what he has found on the way to start afresh, without baggage, so that he can put the trial behind and be his own man.
He is about to say the words he wishes he didn’t have to when Ra, the Universal Lord speaks from his Barque.
“Let Seth live with me on the Solar Barque and defend it from the manifestations of isfet. I will keep him from doing harm. He will never set foot in Kemet again.” They say, and their voice seems to hold a hint of sadness. Perpetual exile is better than death but not a lot.
Nevertheless Heru feels nearly weak with relief at those words. That is a proposal he cannot refuse even if he wanted to, that saves them both and his reputation too.
“Done. The crown grants him this grace and commutes his sentence to perpetual exile.” he declares. Thankfully the throne is uncomfortable enough that he cannot slump too far down with adrenalin withdrawal as Seth’s chains disappear and two sailors of the Barque materialise to carry him away.
“This is not the end.” Seth seems to say as they disappear.
i love this statue because it has HsA positioned perfectly in a surfer stance whilst carrying a sceptre like Hes goin out to catch some waves and smite some sea demons all for the good of Ma’at
OMNTRW this is awesome!
TBH I always imagined Seth as a surfin’ dude (also because of the synchretism with Ba’al Rider on the Clouds), but this is really perfect.
On Monday I managed to take a day off from work. My first point of call was the Bodleian Library in Oxford and its huge collection of Egyptology and ANE books.
Guess who found the book zie had been looking for it in vain for YEARS?
I was looking for something else, but here it was, on the shelf, looking inconspicuous! I just couldn’t help myself.
I am a bit less than halfway through, due to how densely packed with information it is, but I can already tell that it is a lot more systematic than te Velde and goes over in detail about all the aspects of the Contendings in diachronic fashion, drawing from Pyramid Texts, Coffin Texts, Book of the Dead and other texts to complement the “Contendings” (P. Chester Beatty).
The legal proceedings have one whole chapter to themselves. The lettuce incident one subchapter of the larger “Injuries and Mutilations” chapter. Just so that you know, not all academics are as fixated on sex as H. te Velde.
I am hoping to be able to sneak to the library at least once more before the winter break, so I will be able to finish it and give a more complete report
In the meantime, I also found:
1) this two-volume monograph in French about religion in the age of Ramesses II.
I have only skimmed through it, but it seems very interesting and thorough and it has a sizable section on the cult of Seth, (including the link between this and Ramesses’ probably-red hair) as well as on Amon, Ra and Ptah.
2) a book in Spanish about the Contendings, by Marcelo Campagno of the University of Buenos Aires. I have read a few articles by him on the same subject already, and I am anticipating having a look at this longer monograph.
Ah, I wish I had the possibility to study this subject full-time…
And some further UPG as inspired by the post about Set and Heru-Wer: I agree that HSA, while still a war god in his own right, is more centered around kingship, society, rightful authority, and the ideals of righteousness or ma’at in theory and in practice. He likes for things to be pretty, symmetrical, in a word, nice. This is contrast, but also in harmony, with Set’s balls-to-the-wall, pragmatic, and sometimes lackadaisical (as Heru would put it, “irresponsible”) attitude and approach. When they’re together they’re often disagreeing, but I’ve heard them come to be convinced by the other as often as, if not more often than, I’ve heard them just devolve into more and more heated argument and testosterone-laden belligerent sexual tension. They have the potential to even each other out very well, Heru keeping Set from going ‘too far’, and Set pushing Heru to consider different or more extreme ideas or measures than Heru may be willing to on his own. Together they create balance, an attitude or entity (in the case of Antywey) that is the ‘master of both worlds’, able and willing to respond to any situation with the needed order or chaos, or both.
Their personal relationship, as far as I’ve seen it, is dynamic and fluid. It could be because they’re my patrons and my primary “role” in kemetic practice is all about their relationship, their myths, their rituals and so on, so I see several different versions of them. I’ve felt their deep hate for each other based on differences that can feel irreconcilable, based on the horrible things they did to one another over the years. I’ve felt Set’s guilt for taking so much from Heru, his defiance about his choices and why he made them despite the pain they’ve caused, his affection for Heru, his admiration for the things Heru can do or understand better than he can, his frustration with the ways in which he’s subjugated to Heru, his sense of competition and enjoyment of that competition. And I’ve felt many of the same emotions toward Set, from HSA (likely because in many ways, Set was my first real enemy too, and is now one of my two closest friends/allies as my patron, much the same way that HSA is eventually reconciled and even syncretized with Set).
They hate each other, they love each other, they’re always at each other’s throats and always trying to support the other, in their own weird way. I’ve definitely always felt that they both understand each other in some ways better than anyone else can, simply by virtue of having spent so long fighting -seeing one another at their cruelest, their most vicious, weakest and most desperate- and finding ways to reconcile and settle their differences when necessary, even looking at each other with softness at times. It just depends on the time of day, lol.
The one in which I talk about the Balance of the Force
Are there any deities you work with or talk to that you’re not devoted to or worship?
I have six deities that I formally worship, and that’s quite hard to balance already, so I tend not to stray.
There is only one deity with whom I interact without formally worshipping, though: Heru-Sa-Aset.
My practice is very influenced by some pop culture interpretations of Balance as seen in the works of Michael Moorcock, in Star Wars, and in the Legacy of Kain videogame series. As such, I tend to see many things in a Chaos vs Order or Dark Side vs Light Side way (it’s roughly equivalent IMHO).
I feel drawn to the Herus in general because they are the counterpoint to Seth and the two can’t be conceived one without the other(s). Seth is a Chaos deity par excellence, while Heru-Sa-Aset is a champion of Order and the Law, and only through their reconciliation in the person of the King, Ma’at could be achieved in the world.
Now, I am staunchly anti-monarchic, but I think that the balancing act between Chaos and Order, Change and Stability, etc… is still valid and relevant for modern times and for society as a whole. And by balancing act I don’t meant sitting on the fence and doing nothing when bad shit happens, or trying to detach onself from all sorts of political action. I mean knowing when to fight against something or someone and when to sit around a table and negotiate and construct shared frameworks of action.
Heru-Sa-Aset might not be a King any longer, but he certainly knows how to govern in a balanced fashion, creating just laws that protect the oppressed and disarm the oppressors. He has been through a lot and has learned how to overcome obstacles and challenges without resorting to violence. He fights the same fight as Seth, only through different tactics and angles, rebuilding better structures after his counterpart has done away with the old, flawed ones.
I feel that he has much to teach me, and maybe in the future I will reach out to him more formally and ask him to become my seventh.
For now I just offer to him occasionally, in the spirit of Balancing the Force.
Many Journeys 