An unexpected echo
Feb. 21st, 2009 03:05 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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queensthiefI recently discovered in the library one of my best-beloved books from my misbegotten youth, MARA, DAUGHTER OF THE NILE, by Eloise Jarvis McGraw. It's a book that has held up surprisingly well over the decades, and I recommend it to anyone who missed it -- the story has romance, intrigue, action, humor, terrific side characters in timid Innanni and gruff Nekonkh, a hella sexy hero in Sheftu, and an amazing heroine (especially for the Fifties!) in Mara herself -- sly, clever, amoral, funny, thoroughly delightful.
But what brought me up short and led me to post here was this description of Mara's first encounter with Hatshepshut, the female Pharoah:
(long quote after the cut)
But what brought me up short and led me to post here was this description of Mara's first encounter with Hatshepshut, the female Pharoah:
(long quote after the cut)
Mara, suddenly trembling from head to foot, advanced beside Inanni until they stood inside the room. There, across a stretch of gleaming pavement, stood a raised dais framed by two exquisitely painted columns. Upon the dais rested a great throne fashioned entirely of shimmering electrum -- and on that throne sat a woman so coldly beautiful that it took away the breath to gaze on her.
She sat stiffly, her glittering dark eyes fixed, her hands holding emblems shining with gold and enamel. Fluted linen, fine as cobweb, enveloped her like mist; she was weighted with jewels. Upon her flawlessly modeled chin was tied the narrow ceremonial beard denoting kingship, and upon her head rested the heavy red and white double crown of the Two Kingdoms, with the golden cobra curving out over her brow.
Woman or not, there sat the awesome majesty of Egypt, the sun god incarnate. The entire procession fell to its knees; fourteen foreheads, Mara's among them, touched the cold tiles of the floor.
Remind anyone else of the first appearance of a certain queen in THE THIEF?
Hatshepsut is a minor character, and a villainous one, but even as a young reader, I remember that I felt great sympathy for her difficult position as a woman wielding power in a sexist culture, and admiring her ruthlessness and dignity. Re-reading MARA, I was reminded more and more of an Irene-that-could-have-been, paranoid, cruel, both dependent upon and suspicious of her powerful male advisors,
relying on her beauty, her claims to divinity, and above all her coldness to the point of personal disaster.
I know that MWT loved many of the same historical novels I did -- the wonderful shout-out to Rosemary Sutcliff in the first book is proof of that. I wonder if she too subconsciously remembered McGraw's Hatshepsut, and decided to show what could have happened, had her gods chosen to be more kind?
.
She sat stiffly, her glittering dark eyes fixed, her hands holding emblems shining with gold and enamel. Fluted linen, fine as cobweb, enveloped her like mist; she was weighted with jewels. Upon her flawlessly modeled chin was tied the narrow ceremonial beard denoting kingship, and upon her head rested the heavy red and white double crown of the Two Kingdoms, with the golden cobra curving out over her brow.
Woman or not, there sat the awesome majesty of Egypt, the sun god incarnate. The entire procession fell to its knees; fourteen foreheads, Mara's among them, touched the cold tiles of the floor.
Remind anyone else of the first appearance of a certain queen in THE THIEF?
Hatshepsut is a minor character, and a villainous one, but even as a young reader, I remember that I felt great sympathy for her difficult position as a woman wielding power in a sexist culture, and admiring her ruthlessness and dignity. Re-reading MARA, I was reminded more and more of an Irene-that-could-have-been, paranoid, cruel, both dependent upon and suspicious of her powerful male advisors,
relying on her beauty, her claims to divinity, and above all her coldness to the point of personal disaster.
I know that MWT loved many of the same historical novels I did -- the wonderful shout-out to Rosemary Sutcliff in the first book is proof of that. I wonder if she too subconsciously remembered McGraw's Hatshepsut, and decided to show what could have happened, had her gods chosen to be more kind?
.
