Mycerinus

The Herodotean account about Mycerinus has been pieced together from legendary materials of Egyptian provenance. These must have reached Herodotus’ ears through the various informants who provided him with knowledge about Egyptian history and lore. The manner in which these narrative materials have been organized and set out within Herodotus’ second book is exceedingly artful and sophisticated. The entire section concerning Mycerinus is teeming with suggestive parallelisms, pregnant juxtapositions or contrasts of motifs, poignant symmetries, and dramatic ironies, which point to a deeper layer of narrative meaning under the superficial sequence of incidents. In this skilful narrative texture the expert hand of Herodotus, the master storyteller, can be recognized.

One of the qualities which make Herodotus a great narrator (arguably the first ingenious “short story writer” in the western tradition) is precisely the richness of substrata which underlie his tales, the multiplicity of ever deeper levels or recesses which lurk under the superficially plain exposition of events and invite the reader to discover them. This kind of effect characterizes not only Herodotus’ major and famous novellas (Gyges and Candaules, Periander and his son, Xerxes and the wife of Masistes) but the total of his narrative art; it may be detected even in the seemingly simple, paratactic successions of episodes and anecdotes, such as those that make up the biography of Mycerinus. There is always the feeling that behind or under the story ostensibly told a wealth of further stories is hidden — many other possible combinations of the events, unspoken motivations, implicit explanations of the happenings, or imaginable interpretations of the characters’ destinies, which resound as though from the inner side of the text. For this purpose, Herodotus the narrator employs a number of artifices which allow readers (or listeners) a glimpse into the mines of alternative or complementary tales beneath the visible aspect of the story. Such artifices include, for example, enigmatic happenings and paradoxes, which are often coupled with not fully explicable articulations of causes and effects; also, the breaks in narrative linearity and the creation of polyphony through the insertion of variant versions; and finally, the implicit analogies to mythical or otherwise well-known traditions, which create a kind of deeper register or counterpoint to the actual telling of the story.

A fundamental theme unifies the two halves of Mycerinus’ Herodotean bios: namely, time and its manipulation or distortion. Mycerinus’ eros for his own daughter brings about virtually a reversion of human time. Incest inverts indeed the normal direction of time, as the Greeks were well aware through the story of Oedipus; in Oedipus’ myth, the incestuous son becomes the husband of his mother, and the father is made the brother of his own children, as though time were running in reverse.  Mycerinus’ illicit sex with his child has the same effect; it turns the parent into husband of his own daughter. The pharaoh’s weird treatment of the maiden’s corpse produces an analogous effect. Mycerinus refuses to give up his dead child to the grave; he keeps her body in a chamber of his palace, among the living, and has it regularly carried around in the city, under the sunlight, as though the deceased person were still alive. This arrangement is again tantamount to a simulated regression of time; the dead girl continues to be lodged in the same house in which she passed her life, and to go about in the city where she spent her earthly existence, as though she could be snatched back from death and restored to her previous living conditions. Mycerinus’ actions make time move backwards. The same will for time manipulation is displayed in the sequel of the pharaoh’s adventures, after the announcement of the fatal oracle. Mycerinus once again seeks a reversion of the normal flow of the day by transforming the nights into mornings. He also strives to extend and multiply his years in an artificial manner — another attempt to alter the dimensions of time.  The control of time, however, is a prerogative of the gods, not a human capacity. Zeus, in myth, may triple the duration of a night, so as to enjoy more amply the favours of Alcmene; or he may grant a mortal, such as Teiresias, an extraordinarily long existence which spans many human lifetimes.  Mycerinus’ usurpation of this exclusively divine privilege is therefore a transgression. The fate dealt by the gods to this transgressive pharaoh, notwithstanding its explicit justification, looks very much like retaliation in kind for the specific nature of the pharaoh’s misdeeds. Faced with a man who twists and distorts time, the divinity cuts this man’s time short.

Ultimately, the entire narrative about the pharaohs of the pyramids reflects Herodotus’ programmatic observations about Egyptian life and customs, which are set out early in the second book. The Greek historian viewed Egypt as a kind of mundus inversus, a reversed image of the normal Hellenic society: a land where all customs and practices were the exact opposite of the corresponding ones in the other nations, and everything ran contrary to what his fellow-Greeks would have deemed as canonical and standard. The same pattern of thought is consistently applied in the stories of the three pyramid-building monarchs. Every plot motif and narrative situation in the biographies of these kings displays an inversion of the normal and expected order of things. Every polarity is turned on its own axis, as its diametrically opposed constituents exchange their places. The royal maiden is degraded into a prostitute; conversely, the prostitute acquires a memorial of royal status. The nights are turned into days. Time in general flows backwards; the father becomes his daughter’s consort. The dead corpse is kept among the living, staying in the palace and carried around in the city streets. Even the metaphysics of divine will is affected. The impious and oppressive monarchs are rewarded with prosperity and long life, while the lenient and benign king is reprimanded and has his time cut short.The pyramids were (as they still are) the emblematic monuments of Egypt, the symbols par excellence of Egyptian civilization.  Probably for this reason Herodotus wove into his discourse about the pyramid-builders his programmatic thesis regarding the idiosyncrasy of the Egyptian world as a mundus inversus. The story of the most characteristic memorials of that world should exemplify by itself what Herodotus perceived as the peculiar character of the land and its entire culture.

The raw materials for Herodotus’ chapters about the pharaohs of the Giza pyramids were of Egyptian provenance. But the shaping of the narrative, the selection and interweaving of the dominant themes, the creation of pregnant analogies and ironical antitheses — all these are the work of Herodotus the master storyteller. Much of Herodotus’ charm in this respect derives from his ability to invest even a seemingly simple chain of anecdotes with a rich substratum of layers upon layers of narrative meaning. The symmetries, paradoxes, and ironies of the text allow us a glimpse into a wealth of unspoken tales, alternative or parallel or complementary to the one told — tales which enrich the narrative voice with their silent resonance.

The Herodotean account about Mycerinus has been pieced together from legendary materials of Egyptian provenance. These must have reached Herodotus’ ears through the various informants who provided him with knowledge about Egyptian history and lore. The manner in which these narrative materials have been organized and set out within Herodotus’ second book is exceedingly artful and sophisticated. The entire section concerning Mycerinus is teeming with suggestive parallelisms, pregnant juxtapositions or contrasts of motifs, poignant symmetries, and dramatic ironies, which point to a deeper layer of narrative meaning under the superficial sequence of incidents. In this skilful narrative texture the expert hand of Herodotus, the master storyteller, can be recognized.

One of the qualities which make Herodotus a great narrator (arguably the first ingenious “short story writer” in the western tradition) is precisely the richness of substrata which underlie his tales, the multiplicity of ever deeper levels or recesses which lurk under the superficially plain exposition of events and invite the reader to discover them. This kind of effect characterizes not only Herodotus’ major and famous novellas (Gyges and Candaules, Periander and his son, Xerxes and the wife of Masistes) but the total of his narrative art; it may be detected even in the seemingly simple, paratactic successions of episodes and anecdotes, such as those that make up the biography of Mycerinus. There is always the feeling that behind or under the story ostensibly told a wealth of further stories is hidden — many other possible combinations of the events, unspoken motivations, implicit explanations of the happenings, or imaginable interpretations of the characters’ destinies, which resound as though from the inner side of the text. For this purpose, Herodotus the narrator employs a number of artifices which allow readers (or listeners) a glimpse into the mines of alternative or complementary tales beneath the visible aspect of the story. Such artifices include, for example, enigmatic happenings and paradoxes, which are often coupled with not fully explicable articulations of causes and effects; also, the breaks in narrative linearity and the creation of polyphony through the insertion of variant versions; and finally, the implicit analogies to mythical or otherwise well-known traditions, which create a kind of deeper register or counterpoint to the actual telling of the story.

A fundamental theme unifies the two halves of Mycerinus’ Herodotean bios: namely, time and its manipulation or distortion. Mycerinus’ eros for his own daughter brings about virtually a reversion of human time. Incest inverts indeed the normal direction of time, as the Greeks were well aware through the story of Oedipus; in Oedipus’ myth, the incestuous son becomes the husband of his mother, and the father is made the brother of his own children, as though time were running in reverse.  Mycerinus’ illicit sex with his child has the same effect; it turns the parent into husband of his own daughter. The pharaoh’s weird treatment of the maiden’s corpse produces an analogous effect. Mycerinus refuses to give up his dead child to the grave; he keeps her body in a chamber of his palace, among the living, and has it regularly carried around in the city, under the sunlight, as though the deceased person were still alive. This arrangement is again tantamount to a simulated regression of time; the dead girl continues to be lodged in the same house in which she passed her life, and to go about in the city where she spent her earthly existence, as though she could be snatched back from death and restored to her previous living conditions. Mycerinus’ actions make time move backwards. The same will for time manipulation is displayed in the sequel of the pharaoh’s adventures, after the announcement of the fatal oracle. Mycerinus once again seeks a reversion of the normal flow of the day by transforming the nights into mornings. He also strives to extend and multiply his years in an artificial manner — another attempt to alter the dimensions of time.  The control of time, however, is a prerogative of the gods, not a human capacity. Zeus, in myth, may triple the duration of a night, so as to enjoy more amply the favours of Alcmene; or he may grant a mortal, such as Teiresias, an extraordinarily long existence which spans many human lifetimes.  Mycerinus’ usurpation of this exclusively divine privilege is therefore a transgression. The fate dealt by the gods to this transgressive pharaoh, notwithstanding its explicit justification, looks very much like retaliation in kind for the specific nature of the pharaoh’s misdeeds. Faced with a man who twists and distorts time, the divinity cuts this man’s time short.

Ultimately, the entire narrative about the pharaohs of the pyramids reflects Herodotus’ programmatic observations about Egyptian life and customs, which are set out early in the second book. The Greek historian viewed Egypt as a kind of mundus inversus, a reversed image of the normal Hellenic society: a land where all customs and practices were the exact opposite of the corresponding ones in the other nations, and everything ran contrary to what his fellow-Greeks would have deemed as canonical and standard. The same pattern of thought is consistently applied in the stories of the three pyramid-building monarchs. Every plot motif and narrative situation in the biographies of these kings displays an inversion of the normal and expected order of things. Every polarity is turned on its own axis, as its diametrically opposed constituents exchange their places. The royal maiden is degraded into a prostitute; conversely, the prostitute acquires a memorial of royal status. The nights are turned into days. Time in general flows backwards; the father becomes his daughter’s consort. The dead corpse is kept among the living, staying in the palace and carried around in the city streets. Even the metaphysics of divine will is affected. The impious and oppressive monarchs are rewarded with prosperity and long life, while the lenient and benign king is reprimanded and has his time cut short.The pyramids were (as they still are) the emblematic monuments of Egypt, the symbols par excellence of Egyptian civilization.  Probably for this reason Herodotus wove into his discourse about the pyramid-builders his programmatic thesis regarding the idiosyncrasy of the Egyptian world as a mundus inversus. The story of the most characteristic memorials of that world should exemplify by itself what Herodotus perceived as the peculiar character of the land and its entire culture.

The raw materials for Herodotus’ chapters about the pharaohs of the Giza pyramids were of Egyptian provenance. But the shaping of the narrative, the selection and interweaving of the dominant themes, the creation of pregnant analogies and ironical antitheses — all these are the work of Herodotus the master storyteller. Much of Herodotus’ charm in this respect derives from his ability to invest even a seemingly simple chain of anecdotes with a rich substratum of layers upon layers of narrative meaning. The symmetries, paradoxes, and ironies of the text allow us a glimpse into a wealth of unspoken tales, alternative or parallel or complementary to the one told — tales which enrich the narrative voice with their silent resonance.

A very selective preliminary bibliography, prepared for my postgraduate seminar on Persian and Egyptian stories in the "Historiēs Apodexis" of Herodotus. The bibliography is hardly exhaustive and does not aspire to cover the entire (and vast) field of Herodotus' Persian and Egyptian logoi. It includes general works of reference on Herodotus and the East, and several specialized studies regarding the Persian and Egyptian sections of the "Historiē".

Furthermore, particular bibliographical lists are given with regard to certain individual stories about Persian or Egyptian rulers and magnates (these are the stories on which the seminar discussions and presentations focus). The Egyptian narratives that receive such particular treatment are the following: the saga of Pharaoh Sesostris (Hdt. 2.102-110); the tales of Rhampsinitus (2.121-122); the tale of Pheros (2.111); the story of Sethos (2.141); the traditions about Pharaoh Amasis  (2.172-182, 3.1-4, 3.40-43); the legend of Helen in Egypt, in the court of Proteus (2.112-120); and the traditions about the Pharaohs of the Giza Pyramids (2.124-134).

The Persian stories which become the focus of attention are the following: the birth legend of Cyrus (1.107-122); the story of the mad king Cambyses (3.1-38, 3.61-66); the conspiracy of the Magi and Darius' ascension to the throne (3.61-79, 3.86-88); the debate on political constitutions carried out by the three Persian noblemen (3.79-82); the novella of Masistes and his wife (9.107-113); the story of the doctor Democedes and queen Atossa (3.125, 3.129-137); the conquest of Babylon by Zopyrus (3.150-160); and Xerxes' council and ominous dreams before the expedition to Greece (7.8-19). Finally, a few works are collected concerning Herodotus' logoi about Babylon and India.