A Functional Approach To Egyptian Myth A

approach to egyptian myth and mythemes 27
A FUNCTIONAL APPROACH TO EGYPTIAN MYTH

AND MYTHEMES
KATJA GOEBS
Oriental Institute, University of Oxford
Abstract
The article re-examines the definition of the Egyptian mythical tradition as nota-
bly different from that of other cultures. In particular, the supposed late develop-
ment of Egyptian (narrative) myths, which has traditionally been inferred from
the variability in both content and form of mythical fragments/mythemes in dif-
ferent contexts, is re-evaluated. It is argued that the form a myth or mytheme takes
is dependent on the function of the context in which it is used, with the (structural)
relationships between actors (or actors and objects) taking precedence over their
identity, which is variable. This apparent flexibility should be regarded as a posi-
tive, rather than a limiting feature of myths, since it allows them to be adapted to
a variety of contexts and purposes.
Introduction
For many years scholars of Egyptian religion have focused on myth,

in particular on how it relates to ritual1 and to the mythical tradi-
tions of other cultures. Especially in comparison with the classical
world, with its substantial narratives of mythical and epic events, the
Egyptian evidence appeared sparse in a number of respects, and
seemed to suggest that Egyptian mythical thinking must have dif-
fered considerably from that of many other cultures. Moreover, the
scattered references in third and early second millennium texts to
mythical episodes (mythemes) that are well known from later periods
led to speculation about when myths might first have emerged in
Egypt, and the period when this happened was generally assumed
to have been later rather than earlier. This last question has been
1
For a survey and summary of the most important trends, see J. Baines “Egyp-
tian Myth and Discourse: Myth, Gods, and the Early Written and Iconographic
Record”, JNES 50 (1991): 81–105. I am grateful to John Baines for discussion of,
and comments on, this paper.
© Brill, Leiden, 2002 JANER 2

Also available online – www.brill.nl
28 katja goebs
a particular focus of attention on the part of Egyptologists, notably

since 1977, when Jan Assmann published his arguments against the
existence of (what he defined as) myths before the Middle King-
dom.2
It seems appropriate, therefore, to speak of a “myth problem” in
the relevant Egyptological literature, the principal components of
which are those mentioned above.3 In reappraising this problem, I
focus on two points. First, I propose that Egyptian myth(eme)s
should be interpreted within the context in which they occur if one
is to comprehend their nature and meaning successfully. In parti-
cular, the function of the context—whether a text in which the
myth(eme) occurs or an object on which it is depicted—must be
considered if the mythical content is to be understood. Second, the
apparent lack of a coherent structure in most of the earlier attesta-
tions of mythemes, which stimulated the hypothesis that Egyptian
myths did not exist until comparatively late, deserves closer scrutiny.
This ostensible “deficiency” attests rather to the flexible nature of
Egyptian myths, and this flexibility requires re-evaluation.
In this article, I present a brief overview of some of the most
influential arguments that have been advanced in relation to the
myth problem, and then outline an approach to the definition of
Egyptian myths that I believe provides more fruitful results than
have been achieved so far. A reappraisal of the issues outlined above
should permit us to see the Egyptian mythical tradition not as being
an exceptional case, but rather as quite normal, and thus compa-
rable with the traditions of many other cultures. I close with a few
examples that illustrate and, I hope, substantiate my approach.
Previous studies
The supposedly late development of Egyptian myths was first

brought to attention by Siegfried Schott,4 who argued that no myths
existed in predynastic times, but that they can be traced clearly in
the Pyramid Texts.5 In his 1977 article Assmann rejected this in-
2
“Die Verborgenheit des Mythos in Ägypten”, GM 25 (1977) : 7–43.
3
Compare also the title of Assmann’s contribution “Die Zeugung des Sohnes.
Bild, Spiel, Erzählung, und das Problem des ägyptischen Mythos”, in J. Assmann,
W. Burkert, and F. Stolz, Funktionen und Leistungen des Mythos. Drei altorientalische
Beispiele, OBO 48 (Fribourg and Göttingen, 1982), 13–61.
4
Mythe und Mythenbildung im alten Ägypten, UGAÄ 15 (Leipzig, 1945).
5
And here in particular in the transfiguration spells, which Schott wished to
see as the latest of the various “layers” of texts in the corpus (Mythe und Mythen-
terpretation, arguing rather that none of the early attestations of

mythemes, such as those in the Pyramid Texts, displays a fixed struc-
ture that would allow us to infer the existence of longer, coherent
narratives, whose existence had hitherto been inferred on the basis
of the numerous mythical allusions scattered in (mostly religious)
literature and iconography. In his reappraisal of the question, John
Baines6 explained the apparent lack of coherent mythical narratives
on the grounds that in this early period restricted, encyclopedic
knowledge would have had a higher value than narrative accounts.
He suggested that while oral mythical narratives existed, they were
not recorded in forms comparable with those known from many
other cultures. More recently, Jürgen Zeidler7 has argued against
Assmann’s hypothesis by applying formalist / structuralist methods
developed by Vladimir Propp to analyse Russian folk tales, which
were subsequently used to study narratives of many cultures and
types, to the Egyptian evidence. Zeidler demonstrates the (in part
implicit) “narrativity” of some mythemes that are attested in the
Pyramid Texts, and thus argues for the existence of myths at the
time when they were written down.
A review of these arguments reveals that much of the more recent
discussion of the supposed myth problem revolves around the defi-
nition of the term “myth” and therefore could potentially be avoid-
ed if that definition were to be clarified.8 Many scholars would prob-
ably accept a definition such as the following one by Jacobus van
Dijk:9
a statement that seeks to explain social reality and human existence in sym-
bolic terms by referring to a world outside the human world and to events
outside human time, but that makes the present situation meaningful and
acceptable and provides a perspective on the future.
bildung, e.g. 135–36). For a collection of mythemes see also Schott, “Mythen in den
Pyramidentexten”, in The Pyramid Texts in Translation and Commentary Vol. IV: Excur-
suses, ed. S. A. B. Mercer (New York, London, Toronto, 1952), 106–23.
6
“Egyptian Myth and Discourse”.
7
“Zur Frage der Spätentstehung des Mythos in Ägypten”, GM 132 (1993): 85–
109.
8
Harco Willems has pointed to the almost absurd position the Egyptological
discussion has reached: Schott denied that there were myths in predynastic times
while assuming that “Märchen” did exist then, while Zeidler (“Spätentstehung”,
92) applies a method devised for the analysis of folk tales to demonstrate the early
existence of myths, arguing that there is no difference between the two genres (H.
Willems, The Coffin of Heqata (Cairo JdE 36418): A Case Study of Egyptian Funerary
Culture of the Early Middle Kingdom, OLA 70 (Leuven, 1996), 11).
9
“Myth and Mythmaking in Ancient Egypt”, in J. M. Sasson, et al. (eds.),
Civilizations of the Ancient Near East III (New York, 1995), 1699.
30 katja goebs
Other scholars, such as Schott and Assmann, employ two further

significant criteria that they believe characterize a myth as such:
“narrativity”, or narrative coherence, and the setting of the events
that are narrated in a distant past (in illo tempore).10 Since both these
features are absent from early attestations of mythical personae and
events, notably those in the Pyramid Texts, they argue that myths
could not have existed at the time when those texts were written
down. Thus, the very existence of the most discussed problem about
Egyptian myth ultimately rests upon contrasting definitions of the
terms used to describe it.11
In outlining his approach, Assmann proposes a useful distinction
between a mythical “genotext” (Geno-text)—the underlying mythical
events and their12 coherence—and a “phenotext” (Phäno-text)—the
actual form a myth takes and in which it is transmitted, its “realiza-
tion”, such as a written narrative or a sequence of images. However,
while this distinction should have made it easy to allow that a co-
herently “narrative” genotext could coexist with a range of not ne-
cessarily narrative phenotexts, Assmann applies his two key criteria
of narrative coherence and rooting in time and space13 to pheno-
texts. Consequently, he states without qualification that myths did
not exist before the Middle Kingdom definitely, and potentially
even before the New Kingdom.14 He suggests, nonetheless, that the
abstract, and by definition only vaguely contoured, genotext forms
of myths transcend genres and media, and can be transposed into
the “forms” (that is, phenotexts) of an “epic, fairy tale, four-line
10
For Schott, allusions to (mythical) divine characters are “pre-mythical” if
they are not consistent in themselves, that is, if more than one, potentially contra-
dictory, mythical situation is mobilized or evoked (e.g. Mythe und Mythenbildung,
111–12). For Assmann, actual narratives about gods—and thus myths in what is
for him the true sense—appear only when “the notion of the past enters into the
indefinite-temporal structure of the divine sphere” (“Verborgenheit”, 41).
11
Assmann made some concessions to this “narrative” approach to myth in his
later contribution on the topic (“Zeugung des Sohnes”, 40–41): in stating that the
search for “stories” about gods only leads the researcher to the “hiddenness” of
myths in Egypt, he suggests that it might be more sensible to view Egyptian myth
as “iconic” rather than “narrative”. “Mythical icons” (here replacing his earlier
term “mythical constellations”) are defined as “relational images” (“Beziehungs-
bilder”), which may unfold as narrative myths, but may also withdraw into pure
“iconicity”.
12
Presumably sequential or chronological—this is not made explicit.
13
“raumzeitliche Verankerung”, “Verborgenheit”, 21.
14
“Verborgenheit”, 38.
poem, drama, dance performance, but also an image on a vase or

seal”15
In other words, Assmann allows for various “forms” and “ver-
sions” of a single myth that are determined by the uses to which it
is put and thus (implicitly) by the functions of the resulting pheno-
text. He also allows for their use in, or as, ritual texts,16 and yet he
denies the existence of myths proper for the time of the Pyramid
Texts, despite the abundance of ritual texts—many of them well
attested in later funerary and temple contexts—and “mythical allu-
sions” or “mythical statements” that occur as phenotexts in this
corpus.17 Instead, he coins the terms “mythical constellations” and
“icons”,18 which are groupings of gods that encapsulate mythical
relationships between various actors, but which are not based in a
mythical narrative that goes beyond the momentary grouping in
question and is situated in a distant (mythical) past.19 Mythical nar-
15
“Verborgenheit”, 39–40. Baines criticized Assmann’s definition of such “ge-
notexts” as almost “analytical abstractions”, which, he points out, is unlikely to
have been the status of myths for the ancient actors. Instead, he insisted that for
them myths would have been “real” (“Egyptian Myth and Discourse”, 88).
The division of myths into “genotext” and “phenotext” was in essence already
made by Lévi-Strauss, who employed the terms “explicit” and “implicit mytholo-
gy” to distinguish these analytical levels. With reference to the supposed “lack” of
myths in certain societies, he commented that this conclusion was only possible
because those who study the myths have failed to grasp them, and (conversation
with Pierre Daix, in Les lettres françaises, nos. 1405–06, 13–20 October 1971; trans-
lation by KG [no authorized English translation]):
because the tendency to confuse what I have called … the explicit and the
implicit mythology is too prominent. Just as it is possible to express oneself
in literature in cycles of novels as well as in essays, mythology consists in
part of well-structured discourses … in part of commentaries or word-
glosses that are determined by the sequences of ritual. Anthropologists are
much too easily tempted to confuse such commentaries with the ritual itself,
when both in fact depend on a certain form of mythology.
16
Besides theological treatises and literary narratives; esp. 36–9.
17
“Mythische Anspielungen”, used by Schott in his Mythe und Mythenbildung;
the latter term, “mythische Aussagen”, is Assmann’s.
18
“Zeugung des Sohnes”, e.g. 40–41.
19
On the requirement of a setting in a distant past one may recall Lévi-
Strauss’s analysis of myths on two temporal levels, in parallel to the Saussurean
linguistic concepts langue and parole, which ultimately also underlies Assmann’s two
realizations of cultural memory as “potential” (archival) and “actual” (i.e. concrete
realizations of the former; see below). While parole refers to concrete realizations
that may be set in an “absolute past”, and thus are irreversible, the langue belongs
to reversible time (See also “Verborgenheit, 38 for Assmann’s identification of
myths as langue and mythical statements as parole). Myth, according to Lévi-Strauss,
uses a third referent, which combines the properties of the first two and gives it
32 katja goebs
rativity only develops out of the necessity to infuse ancient rituals,

whose meaning had become elusive, with a new meaning. The form
a myth(eme) takes is then—in line with the views of the myth-ritual
school—derivative of the structure of the ritual that it is chosen to
accompany. The ritual is interpreted in terms of the divine world
and its actors, in a process Assmann terms a “sacramental exegesis/
interpretation (sakramentale Ausdeutung)”,20 which leads to the forma-
tion of a myth(eme). 21
Here, several points should be considered. The lack of coherence
and sequentiality in a phenotextual “mythical statement” in no way
precludes the existence of an underlying genotext that possesses a
degree of “coherence of actions”22 that would allow us to define it
as a “myth” even by Assmann’s very strict standards.23 In this con-
text, it is worth citing Assmann’s discussion of “cultural memory”
that is preserved, among other things, in the forms and perfor-
mances of texts and rituals:
Cultural memory exists in two modes: on the one hand, in the mode of po-
tentiality as an archive, as an all encompassing horizon (Totalhorizont) of col-
lected texts, images, patterns of action, and—on the other hand—in the mode
of actuality, as the stock of objectivized meaning actualized and perspectivized
from the perspective of a given present.24
eternal validity, so that it is “timeless” (Structural Anthropology I, translated by C.

Jacobson and B. Grundfest Schoepf (London, 1968), 209):
On the one hand, a myth always refers to events alleged to have taken place
long ago. But what gives the myth an operational value is that the specific
pattern described is timeless; it explains the present and the past as well as
the future.
20
Schott, Mythe und Mythenbildung, e.g. 135–36; E. Otto, Das Verhältnis von Rite
und Mythus im Ägyptischen, SBHAW, phil.-hist. Klasse 1958: 1 (Heidelberg, 1958);
Assmann, “Verborgenheit”, 20–28. The best known proponent, and in some ways
the founder, of the myth-ritual (or “Cambridge”) school is probably Jane Harri-
son, especially in her Themis: A Study of the Social Origins of Greek Religion (Cambridge,
1912)—a work that is in many respects based on James Frazer’s The Golden Bough:
A study in Magic and Religion, 12 vols., 3rd ed. (London, 1917, reprinted 1951).
21
Arguments against this interpretation: Zeidler, “Spätentstehung”, 108.
22
Here I borrow and translate the term “Handlungskohärenz” from Zeidler’s
critique of Assmann (“Spätentstehung”, 88).
23
See also Baines (“Egyptian Myth and Discourse”, 94):
A myth could be mobilized in a non-narrative context, varying from short
segments of ritual to more extensive texts. Such a mobilization is distinct
from a narrative realization, but its occurrence is compatible with the con-
temporaneous existence of narratives.
24
“Das kulturelle Gedächtnis existiert in zwei Modi: einmal im Modus der
Potentialität als Archiv, als Totalhorizont angesammelter Texte, Bilder,
This definition allows for adaptations of, and extracts from, the sum
of cultural knowledge according to criteria of time (modernity, rel-
evance) and purpose. Since myths are symbolic representations of
cultural knowledge, this analysis seems to provide a useful basis from
which to investigate the nature of (Egyptian) myths. On the one
hand, there is no reason to assume that, in its “potential” form, this
cultural knowledge would necessarily lack coherence, although this
is possible. On the other hand, and more importantly, such an “ar-
chive” of cultural, in our case mythical, knowledge would in no way
have to possess “coherence” or “sequentiality” in order to function
effectively. Rather than searching for coherence and narrativity in
early Egyptian mythemes in an attempt to make them conform to
a potentially artificial definition of myth, we should shift the focus of
inquiry to the evidence itself and investigate its meaning. If narra-
tivity is not one of the features displayed in the early sources, then
it was probably not required. As several scholars have noted, many
of these sources are ritual texts and as such are—with Baines—“not
a suitable context for narrative”.25
Assmann himself has made a statement to the same effect:
The usage determines the form and scope of what is mentioned of a myth.
The Osiris-myth, for example, has a form that precedes all concrete situa-
tions of use that might give it form. This is why, in Egypt, it was never writ-
ten down in full.26
This implies that Assmann accepts the existence of a coherent geno-

textual Osirismyth that goes beyond its various phenotextual real-
izations. He also acknowledges the flexibility of myths, if only in
passing. In commenting on their adaptability to specific require-
ments or situations, he points to how the form of early mythical
statements relates to the form and purpose of the texts in which they
occur: “The functional differentiation forms … the mythical state-
Handlungsmuster, und zum zweiten im Modus der Aktualität, als der von
einer jeweiligen Gegenwart aus aktualisierte und perspektivierte Bestand an
objektiviertem Sinn.” [Translation KG].
“Kollektives Gedächtnis und kulturelle Identität”, in J. Assmann and T. Höl-
scher (eds.), Kultur und Gedächtnis (Frankfurt/M., 1988), 12–13. For a more in depth
discussion of these points see also id., Das kulturelle Gedächtnis: Schrift, Erinnerung und
politische Identität in frühen Hochkulturen (Munich, 1992).
25
“… with a magical formula, … the narrative’s structure is influenced by what
the spell is designed to achieve or by its formal properties. … There is no clear
reason for assuming that this structure [of the myth] should be fixed.” (“Egyptian
Myth and Discourse”, 88, see also 105).
26
“Verborgenheit”, 37 [translation KG].
34 katja goebs
ments.”27 This leads him to a model, “in which the level of func-
tional differentiation (as a result of typical and specified situations of
use) stands between ‘myth’ and ‘mythical statement’ ”.28
While the flexibility of Egyptian myths has thus been nominally
acknowledged, the practical potential inhering in this flexibility has
not attracted much interest: We should not only give this aspect
more attention, since it seems to lie at the heart of our problems in
defining the exact nature of Egyptian myths, but we should also
recognize that it is a constitutive factor for narratives of this kind.
Moreover, it is not restricted to Egypt but is a feature that is integral
to many cultures’ mythical traditions and is based both in their oral
origins and in their multifunctionality—as was persuasively argued
by G. S. Kirk in several contributions to the discussion of myth.29
Assmann too has stated in passing that the various phenotexts are
likely to have been transmitted in the oral sphere, which more or
less naturally rendered them “flexible”.30 The oral origin of myths in
most cultures is also one of Baines’ key points in his critique of
Assmann’s arguments.31
27
Assmann, “Verborgenheit”, 37.
28
“in welchem die Stufe der funktionalen Differenzierung (durch typische und
spezifizierte Verwendungssituationen) trennend zwischen ‘Mythos’ und ‘mythische
Aussage’ tritt”. [translation KG].
29
Esp. “On Defining Myths”, Phronesis: A Journal for Ancient Philosophy, Suppl.
vol. 1 (1973): 61–69; also id., “Five Monolithic Theories”, in id. (ed.), The Nature
of Greek Myths (Baltimore, 1974). See also Anne Birrell, Chinese mythology—An intro-
duction (Baltimore and London, 1993), 20–21.
30
“In der mündlichen Überlieferung aber ist jede Realisierung eines Textes—
abgesehen von ganz und gar sakrosankten, Wort für Wort auswendig gelernten
Texten—ein mehr oder weniger freies Verfügen über eine nur in Umrissen fest-
liegende Geschichte und ein Repertorium von Formeln und Bildern.”
(“Verborgenheit”, 38 with n. 70 (with reference to G. S. Kirk, Myth: Its Meaning
and Functions in Ancient and Other Cultures (Cambridge and Berkeley, 1970), 73ff.; see
also similarly in “Zeugung des Sohnes”, 13–14, with reference to the Osiris myth,
but also with a warning against generalization).
31
“Egyptian Myth and Discourse”, 94, 102. See also Willems, Heqata, 14 with
n. 62. For the general mechanisms of transmission from the oral to the written
sphere see e.g. A. B. Lord, Epic singers and oral tradition (Ithaca and London, 1991).
In particular the mythical narrative of the “Contendings of Horus and Seth” in P.
Chester-Beatty I seems to invite being taken as an originally oral composition.
Stylistic means, such as the frequent accompaniment of communications with a
“loud cry” ({± sgb {ú), paint a lively picture, conceivably of a performance, potential-
ly with various actors. Note, however, the more cautious remarks of M. Broze
concerning the hypothesis that this literary myth was transcribed from an oral
version: While the style of the narrative may evoke a “ ‘popular’ tone”, this does
not necessarily mean that the text as a whole constituted “popular literature”, or
a “transcription of an oral account”. Citing the Brothers Grimm’s collections of
fairy tales, Broze hypothesizes “an artificial popular language” (Mythe et roman en
In other words, contrary to the traditional opinion of Egyptolo-

gists, the flexibility of Egyptian myth should be regarded as a posi-
tive and creative, rather than an “anomalous” or limiting,32 feature.
One of the factors that leads to a “fixing” of the narrative struc-
tures of myths and of other oral literature is their writing down. This
is often undertaken by foreign visitors to a culture,33 or at a time
when traditional knowledge appears to be under threat of being
overwhelmed by new influences.34
Égypte ancienne: Les aventures d’Horus et Seth dans le Papyrus Chester Beatty I, OLA 76
(Leuven, 1996), 6–7 with n. 22). On the performative aspects of myths see also
Baines, “Prehistories of Literature: Performance, Fiction, Myth”, in G. Moers
(ed.), Definitely: Egyptian Literature. Proceedings of the Symposium “Ancient Egyptian Litera-
ture: History and Forms”, Los Angeles, March 24–26, 1995, Lingua Aegyptia Studia
monographica 2 (Göttingen, 1999), 17–41. See also U. Verhoeven’s contribution
cited in n. 34.
32
As, for example, was held by the myth-ritual school, who believed ritual to
have precedence over myth precisely because it was fixed, whereas myths were
flexible. On the flexibility of myths in a variety of cultures, see also Th. P. van
Baaren, “The Flexibility of Myth”, in A. Dundes (ed.), Sacred Narrative: Readings in
the Theory of Myth (Berkeley, LA, London, 1984), 217–24.
33
It is probably no coincidence that the first extensive narrative of the Osiris
myth was written by a foreigner, the Greek Plutarch in the 1st century CE. A
compelling modern case is the dwindling tradition of epic singers in Egypt today,
which has all but disappeared due to the influence of modern media. Most of the
old epics have by now been written down (or recorded), often by visitors to the
region or village, many of them anthropologists. See the contributions of D. F.
Reynolds, who studies the epic tradition in an Egyptian Delta village. It is worth
noting that the epic he has studied is generally passed on to the apprentices in a
single, “canonized” form; during performance, however, there is a certain degree
of flexibility in both the choice of words and content, which may be adapted to
the audiences’ preferences, or to reflect recent events: Heroic Poets, Poetic Heroes: The
Ethnography of Performance in an Arabic Oral Epic Tradition (Ithaca NY, 1995); id.,
“Creating an Epic: From Apprenticeship to Publication”, in L. Honko (ed.), Text-
ualization of Oral Epics (Berlin and New York, 2000), 247–62. See also G. Calame-
Griaule, “Variations stylistiques dans un conte touareg”, in D’un conte à l’autre : La
variabilité dans la littérature orale; Secondes Journées d’Étude en littérature orale, Paris 23–26
mars 1987, Colloques Internationaux du CNRS (Paris, 1990), 83–103.
34
On the temporal limits of collective (“communicative”) memory, see e.g. J.
Assmann, “Kollektives Gedächtnis und kulturelle Identität”, in J. Assmann, T.
Hölscher (eds.), Kultur und Gedächtnis. On the “fear” of forgetting, see also id.,
“Stein und Zeit. Das ‘monumentale’ Gedächtnis der altägyptischen Kultur”, ibid.,
96. One may also compare the description by F. Staal of his role in recording the
old Vedic fire-ritual Agnicayana on video, because some locals were concerned
about their vanishing heritage (“The meaninglessness of ritual”, Numen 26:1 (1979):
2–22); cited in Willems, Heqata, 8). Other reasons for the recording of a mythical
narrative may be political or cultic. Compare here Verhoevens’ argument that the
Horus and Seth myth of P. Chester Beatty I related to the legitimation of
Ramesses V at his accession: “Ein historischer Sitz im Leben für die Erzählung
von Horus und Seth des Papyrus Chester Beatty I”, in M. Schade-Busch (ed.),
36 katja goebs
The process leads to an increased canonization both of mythical

actors and of sequences of events,35 although the canonized form
does not have to be present in all the uses to which the myth is put
(see below).36
As stated, Egypt is not an isolated case in this respect. Unexpected
parallels can be found, for example, in China. The foreword by
Yuan K’o to Anne Birrell’s collection of Chinese myths reads like a
cogent description of the Egyptian situation:37
For a long time people … have thought that China had a dearth of myths, or
they even considered that China was a nation that had no myths at all. … In
the first place, China did not enjoy the phenomenon of gifted poets like Homer
and Hesiod … who retold ancient myths in an eloquent literary mode. …
myths at first appeared in a piecemeal fashion, in a variety of versions, frag-
mented and truncated, and were collated as mythological material only fairly
late, if at all. …
Wege öffenen: Festschrift für Rolf Gundlach zum 65. Geburtstag, ÄAT 35 (Wiesbaden,
1996), 347–63. See also Broze, who argues that this narrative relates to the claim
to legitimate succession of Ramesses IV (Mythe et roman, 10, 269–75, 281). By
contrast, Leonard H. Lesko wishes to see reflections of harim conspiracies under
Ramesses II in this myth (“Three Late Egyptian stories reconsidered”, in L. H.
Lesko (ed.), Egyptological studies in honor of Richard A. Parker, (Hanover, 1986), 98–
103).
35
See also Broze’s comments on the Horus and Seth myth (Mythe et roman,
283), that the writing of myths “does not transcribe oral tales, and does not simply
transcribe the traditional myths: it transforms them.” A parallel from the Egyptian
religious sphere may be found in the expansive canonisation of rituals in the early
18th Dynasty, particularly under Amenhotep I: The Ritual of Opening the Mouth
(E. Otto, Das ägyptische Mundöffnungsritual II, ÄA 3 (Wiesbaden, 1960), 8) and the
daily cultic ritual as “Ritual of Amenhotep I” (H. H. Nelson, “Certain reliefs at
Karnak and Medinet Habu and the ritual of Amenophis I”, JNES 8 (1949): 202).
However, this time also saw a comprehensive restructuring of aspects of the funerary
ritual (see also Willems, Heqata, 114 for some implications). This example under-
lines the fact that a written text is in no way superior, and in particular no more
“original” than, older, oral versions, and (potentially written) fragmented citations
from them. One may also consider Th. Van Baaren’s assessment of the role of
writing in the transmission of myths as having “wrought havoc” in so far as it
allowed the myth to be fixed “more or less permanently” (“The flexibility of
myth”, 223).
36
For example, isolated episodes from the Horus and Seth myth, with a va-
riety of divine “constellations”, continue to be used in ritual and magical texts
after its transcription in the Ramesside period. For studies of this “literary” myth
see Broze, Mythe et roman, F. Junge, “Mythos und Literarizität: Die Geschichte vom
Streit der Götter Horus und Seth”, in H. Behlmer (ed.), Quaerentes scientiam. Festgabe
für Wolfhart Westendorf zu seinem 70. Geburtstag Überreicht von seinen Schülern (Göttingen,
1994), 83–101) both with earlier lit. For the general relationship between myth
and literature see Baines, “Myth and Literature”, in A. Loprieno (ed.), Ancient
Egyptian Literature. History and Forms (Leiden, NY, Cologne, 1996), 361–78.
37
Birrell, Chinese Mythology, xi–xii.
In their very diversity … the myths have been used by a great many different
authors. Significantly they have been used piecemeal, and so they have not
suffered a complete reworking at the hands of literary authors or others. One
might argue that in their present fragmentary state … they must appear as
Greek and Roman myths once did before Homer, Hesiod, or even Ovid trans-
formed, reshaped, and rewrote them. … One may further conclude that for
this reason Chinese myths, despite their protean and contradictory forms,
are more reliable documentary evidence of a[n] … archaic oral tradition in
the world of myth.
A parallel like this one exemplifies that the presupposition of an

indispensable “coherence” in a mythical account or mytheme is
unlikely to be a useful approach to either Egyptian myths, or to ones
belonging to many other traditions. I believe that the quest for cohe-
rence also limits the impact of Zeidler’s critique of Assmann’s ap-
proach and his reappraisal of the problem of early Egyptian myth.38
In positing an, in some cases implicit, coherent structure and se-
quence of events for a group of spells in the Pyramid Texts, Zeidler
ignores the possibility that it was not the aim of the text to give a
coherent excerpt from a myth, but rather to amass as many poten-
tially beneficial associations for the deceased as possible. The greater
the number of divine associations, the more chance that the de-
ceased would be accepted into the next world39—the primary con-
cern of funerary texts.
Moreover, myths are not the only Egyptian “texts” that display
flexibility and variability: The sequence of episodes in the daily cul-
tic ritual, for example, remains debated to this day, and the version
from the cult-chapels in the temple of Seti I at Abydos differs both
from the Karnak liturgy transcribed on papyrus in the Third Inter-
mediate Period and from the Ptolemaic versions inscribed at Edfu
and Dendera.40 The lack of “coherent” ritual texts until compara-
38
“Spätentstehung des Mythos”.
39
See also H. Roeder, “Themen und Motive in den Pyramidentexten”, LingAeg
3 (1993): 83 with n. 13, who points to how Egyptian funerary and cultic texts are
entirely different from the fairy tales studied by Propp in syntactic-semantic struc-
ture, content, and Sitz im Leben. Baines’ argument (“Egyptian myth and discourse”,
105) that encyclopaedic knowledge had primacy over mythical narrativity in early
Egyptian elite culture, is also important in this context. Assmann himself already
conceded the existence of some narrative coherence in certain mythical “constel-
lations” derived from the Osiris-myth and occurring in the Pyramid Texts (“Zeu-
gung des Sohnes”, 13 with n. 6, with reference to PT 477). See also Baines, 100
with n. 106 (with a brief reference to J. P. Allen, Genesis in Egypt: The Philosophy of
Ancient Egyptian Creation Accounts, YES 2 (New Haven, 1988), x) for the pitfalls
attending the reconstruction of myths from ritual texts.
40
See e.g. A. R. David, A Guide to Religious Ritual at Abydos (Warminster, 1981),
58–60 for a summary, as well as the comparative tables on pp. 81–2.
38 katja goebs
tively late has not led scholars to conclude that consistent rituals
only developed at the time when they were first written down in full.
Nor have the sometimes disjointed references to rituals preserved in
the Pyramid Texts been used to reject entirely the possibility that
there were coherent rituals in early times, as has been proposed in
the case of the “hidden” character of myth.
A “Functional” Approach to Egyptian Myth(eme)s
As I have already indicated, the key point here concerns the func-
tion of the texts and images through which myths are mobilized.
Although the centrality of function has been noted by several of the
authors cited, it does not seem to have had much influence on their
argumentation about the existence, purpose, and locus of myth.
The title of this article is not intended to suggest that I am em-
ploying the methods of “functionalist” sociology and social anthro-
pology, which investigates the social function of an institution such
as religion, or more abstractly a norm, as it relates to the preserva-
tion of the society as a whole. Nor is the term “functional” derived
from the terminology employed by Propp in his analysis of folk
tales,41 although some of his findings are crucial to my understand-
ing of Egyptian myth(eme)s. Propp’s “functions” are “structural el-
ements” or “episodes”42 of an “ideal-typical” magical tale43—they
may perhaps be described more simply as “themes”.44 By function
I mean rather the specific purpose for which a religious text, or a
corpus of such texts, may be designed. This function may relate to
the contextual and the co-textual level, and thus encompasses not
only the pragmatic function of a text as a ritual recitation, the func-
tion of a single spell within its corpus (e.g. “all texts found on one
particular text carrier”), but also the function of a specific phrase or
mytheme within a single funerary spell.45
41
Morphology of the folktale, 2nd ed., translated L. Scott (Austin TX, 1968).
42
Walter Burkert rendered them “motifemes”: see e.g. “The Organization of
Myth”, in id., Structure and History in Greek Mythology and Ritual (Berkeley, 1979), 5-
6.
43
Compare Zeidler’s application of Proppian methods to examples from the
Pyramid Texts, mentioned above.
44
See also Roeder, “Themen und Motive”.
45
A step in this direction was taken by Roeder (“Themen und Motive”, 82
with n. 12), who calls for an “integral representation of both text-external and
text-internal peculiarities” of text corpora such as that of the Pyramid Texts. A
This approach recalls the old quest for a Sitz im Leben of Egyptian
cultural phenomena. To be sure, the content of myths and my-
themes can be interpreted in a variety of ways in relation to such an
approach. A classic example is the widespread “historicizing”, al-
most euhemeristic, interpretation of the myth of Horus and Seth as
reflecting a historical battle between two rival kingdoms for the
domination of Egypt.46 More recently, Rolf Krauss has interpreted
the same myth as an account of the cyclical interchange of the
planets Venus and Mercury as morning stars,47 while the ritualist
or myth-ritual school read myths as interpretations of rituals,
as propounded in particular by S. Schott,48 E. Otto,49 and S. H.
Hooke:50 As means of “sacramental exegesis” they are thought to
give meaning to rituals that had become meaningless over time.51
My approach takes the opposite point of departure. Rather than
searching for the “function” of a particular myth or mytheme as—
for example—evoking the ritual relationship between an actor and
an object, I suggest that determining the function of the text or
knowledge of the “genre character” (Textsortenhaftigkeit) of funerary and cultic texts

would constitute the key to their understanding.
46
From authors such as Kurt Sethe (e.g. Urgeschichte und älteste Religion der
Ägypter, Abhandlungen für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 18:4 (Leipzig, 1930) ) and
J. G. Griffiths (The Conflict of Horus and Seth from Egyptian and Classical Sources (Liver-
pool, 1960), e.g. VII; 268) to a quite recent work of Jan Assmann (Ägypten—Eine
Sinngeschichte (Munich and Vienna, 1996), 57–58 [translation KG]):
The text can be successfully (sehr gut) understood as a mythical figuration of
a historical situation, in which a period of two rivaling kingdoms is ended
by the foundation of an all-inclusive unity. … Horus stands, of course, for
the horian kingship of Hierakonpolis, and Seth for the kingship of Na-
qada.”
By contrast, Joachim Spiegel held that the primary conflict in this myth is
between the creator and the Ennead, reflecting the terrestrial conflict between
state/king and nomarchs at the beginning of the Middle Kingdom (Die Erzählung
vom Streite des Horus und Seth in Pap. Beatty I als Literaturwerk, Leipziger Ägyptologi-
sche Studien 9 (Glückstadt, Hamburg, and New York, 1937), 68–83). Other au-
thors have been more sceptical about interpreting this tale as a “mythologized”
historical account; see e.g. Schott, Mythe und Mythenbildung, IX–X.
47
R. Krauss, “Vorläufige Bemerkungen zu Seth und Horus/Horusauge im
Kairener Tagewählkalender nebst Notizen zum Anfang des Kalendertages”, BSEG
14 (1990): 49–56; id., Astronomische Konzepte und Jenseitsvorstellungen in den Pyramiden-
texten, ÄA 59 (Wiesbaden, 1997), e.g. 235–53; 291–93.
48
Mythe und Mythenbildung, e.g. 29 (explicit).
49
Rite und Mythus.
50
E.g. S. H. Hooke (ed.), Myth, Ritual, and Kingship: Essays on the Theory and
Practice of Kingship in the Ancient Near East and in Israel (Oxford, 1960). See also above,
n. 20.
51
As Assmann still maintains in “Verborgenheit”.
40 katja goebs
object in which the myth occurs explains the specific form that the
myth(eme) takes (Assmann’s phenotext).52 The existence of various
different, and often contradictory, mythical groupings of gods (or
“constellations”, to use Assmann’s term) that depend on the context
and on its function does not prove that there is no such thing as a
coherent genotextual myth. However, even if this were the case, that
would not be the important question. Rather, the presence of such
variation suggests that the essence of myth should be sought in a
different direction, in its flexibility and multifunctionality. My ap-
proach therefore presupposes that myths possess these two attributes
and sites them at the beginning of the hermeneutic investigation.
In the case of early religious texts, which are our primary source
for early Egyptian myth(eme)s, the function of texts is mostly the
transfiguration of the deceased—his or her integration into the di-
vine sphere—which is achieved by means of rituals and ritual reci-
tations that mobilize myths as divine precedents.53 A similar function
underlies the use of myths in the rituals of the cult of the gods in
temples. Indeed, the reason for employing a variety of mythical
52
See also Willems (Heqata, esp. 14; with ref. to Kirk, Myth, 38–91), who
stresses the importance both of the purpose of a specific Coffin Text spell within
the corpus of texts in which it occurs (in his case the early Middle Kingdom coffin
of Heqata), and the purpose for which the texts were written—here as funerary
texts. However, Willems’ approach is ultimately concerned with the purpose of the
texts (as “realizations of myths”) on this particular coffin, and as part of an integral
funerary composition, rather than with the different forms in which the
myth(eme)s may occur. As stated, Assmann too recognizes that “functional differ-
entiation” lies between the myth (genotext) and the “mythical statement” (pheno-
text), but he does not seem to have synthesized this finding with his conclusions
concerning the late development of myths. He does, however refer in passing to
Henri Frankfort’s famous characterization of the “multiplicity of approaches” in
Egyptian religion, which he saw as explaining the existence of at first sight contra-
dictory features of Egyptian gods and their myths (Ancient Egyptian Religion: An Inter-
pretation (New York, 1948), 14–22, esp. 18–19). See also Baines’ remarks (“Egyp-
tian myth and discourse”, 88) cited in n. 25.
53
I am not entirely convinced by the differentiation of the Pyramid Texts into
various, supposedly historically developing, textual “levels” (as proposed by Schott,
Mythe und Mythenbildung). While there may be, for example, rituals and ritual text(s)
that do not employ many or any mythical allusions, this does not prove that these
allusions were not available to be drawn on when the ritual in question was
composed. Ritual and transfiguration texts overlap, especially in funerary litera-
ture, where both are ultimately designed to achieve the transfiguration of the
addressee. Note that Schott ultimately interpreted all Pyramid Texts as belonging
into a ritual context (Bemerkungen zum ägyptischen Pyramidenkult. Beiträge zur ägypti-
schen Bauforschung und Altertumskunde 5 (Cairo, 1950), 136-37; followed by H.
Altenmüller, Die Texte zum Begräbnisritual in den Pyramiden des Alten Reiches. ÄA 24
(Wiesbaden, 1972), 63ff.
incidents and allusions, rather than a single mythical narrative, lies

in this function of the rituals.54 The form taken by the mythical
statements, mythemes, or phenotexts (whichever term one may pre-
fer) relates to this specific function. The mythical precedents re-
quired in any context are determined by the nature of the episode
of the ritual or transfiguration; the full mythical narrative, with its
variegated “divine constellations” and associations would distract
from, and potentially be counterproductive to, the aim of the text.
Moreover, the greater the number of divine associations that is
evoked, a) the more chance there is that at least one of them will be
successful in achieving the integration of the beneficiary into the
divine sphere with all its prerogatives, and/or b) the more divine, or
immortal, the beneficiary becomes.55
An additional factor that has to be considered is the conception
of a celestial, and in most cases stellar, afterlife that the early texts
describe.56 While F. Max Müller’s “naturalist” theories of myth57 are
now generally seen as being outdated, the content and purpose of
the early Egyptian funerary texts means that the mythical associa-
tions and groupings of gods found in them are bound to be stellar
or “cosmic” on at least one possible level of interpretation. We will
need to get used to thinking in terms of stellar deities other than the
sun and moongods displaying certain mythical features. Such cos-
mic interpretations do not preclude other, equally valid associations
and meanings of myths, but are simply contingent upon the type of
texts in which most of the early mythical allusions occur.
In this study, I present some examples that highlight the flexible
nature of Egyptian myths, and the value that this characteristic pos-
sessed for the functions to which they were put in the accessible
sources. These examples illustrate how the context and function of
a text determines from which myth(s) the precedents accompanying
54
This situation underlies Schott’s assumption that we only ever see “quota-
tions” and “fragments” of myths in the surviving texts—in keeping with Assmann’s
differentiation of genotexts and phenotexts (Mythe und Mythenbildung, 136).
55
Note Schott’s remarks on how the mythical associations occurring in the
transfiguration spells (as against the other classes of compositions) in the Pyramid
Texts are particularly variable (Mythe und Mythenbildung, 133).
56
Survey: R. O. Faulkner, “The King and the Star-religion in the Pyramid
Texts”, JNES 25 (1966): 153–61. R. Krauss has made a number contributions to
this area, notably his Astronomische Konzepte.
57
E.g. “Comparative Mythology”, in id., Chips from a German Workshop, IV
(reissue, London 1898), 1–154.
42 katja goebs
a ritual, for example, are drawn, and which particular episode or

grouping of gods is used. More than one myth may be mobilized for
the same purpose. These myths may then be conflated so as seem-
ingly to present inconsistent or contradictory mythical relationships,
some of which have led to superficially strange characterizations of
Egyptian gods in scholarly books. A typical example of this difficulty
is C. J. Bleeker’s monograph Hathor and Thoth (1973), which consists
of little more than an enumeration of attestations and features that
often contradict one another. The author did not take into consid-
eration the purpose and context of the texts in which the statements
concerning the deities that he cited appear.58
Structural Relationships of Actors and Objects as Basis for the Formation

of the Phenotext
Among all this “variability”, the “stable” basis upon which the flex-
ibility of Egyptian myths rests lies in the structural relationships59
among their actors and objects. This is the feature that makes a
myth efficacious in a specific context. Such relationships exist be-
tween two or more a) actors, b) actors and objects, or c) objects.
They may be based on an “action” that one actor performs for
another, or with the object in question, or else on kinship or chro-
nological interdependence, such as a father–son relationship (where
the father’s existence logically preceded that of the son, and may
thus be used to express the pre-existence of one actor in relation to
another). With reference to both objects and personae, the relation-
ship may be geographical or topological, such as an “Eye” that
“encircles” a god and thus protects him, or the geographical loca-
58
Hathor and Thoth: Two Key Figures of the Ancient Egyptian Religion, Studies in the
History of Religions 26 (Leiden, 1973). Contrast here Frankfort, who stated (Reli-
gion, 19):
… such quasi-conflicting images, whether encountered in paintings or in
texts, should not be dismissed in the usual derogatory manner. They display
a meaningful inconsistency, and not poverty but superabundance of imagi-
nation. … The hymns and designs must be read as the reiterated statement:
“This also can truly be said of thee.”
This statement is of course also valid with reference to myths, but in the
selection of mythical statements/excerpts for such a situation as a ritual or magical
spell, the relevance of the structural relationship between actors to the situation
outweighs a basic tendency to simply add more aspects to the deity in question.
59
Otto (Rite und Mythus) spoke of “mythische Schemata” that are realized in a
multiplicity of mythical images (“mythische Bilder”).
tion “far from” the person who is “in need” of the object or actor.
While these structural relationships are relatively stable, the iden-
tity and characteristics of the actors and objects are strikingly flex-
ible.60 Thus Otto cited as examples of the “schema of the fighting
brothers” the “Contendings of Horus and Seth”, “Truth and False-
hood”, and potentially “The Two Brothers”,61 identifying the con-
stant element in all three cases as the grouping together of two
powers that are in conflict with one another. This method of analy-
sis recalls Propp’s approach to fairy tales and folk tales, which are
related to myths in many ways. These employ a host of “anony-
mous” characters, such as “A prince” or “A beggar”, and are there-
fore flexible in the same way as myths, only more explicitly so. What
matters is not the person but the function and position he or she
holds within the structure of the tale. Accordingly, one of Propp’s
essential findings from his analyses of folk tales is the following:
Functions of characters serve as stable, constant elements in a tale, indepen-
dent of how and by whom they are fulfilled. They constitute the fundamental
components of the tale.62
However, according to Propp’s model, the sequentiality of these

“functions” is stable. W. Burkert summarized this principle in a
60
Otto too stated that it is part of the “hallmarks (Kennzeichen) of these schemes
that they are anonymous, i.e. cannot be attributed to genetically defined ‘gods’. ”
[translation KG]. Examples he gave were the “Bruderkampfschema” and the
“Mutter-Sohn-Schema” (Rite und Mythus, 25–27, see also 7–8, 16). He moreover
asserted that, in Egypt, the “relationship between mythical images and specific
gods is strikingly loose (lose)” (ibid., 24).
61
Rite und Mythus, 26 with n. 52.
62
Morphology, 21. Note here that Propp used the term “function” to express
what I call “structural relationships”. Zeidler, in his application of Propp’s struc-
tural analysis of magical tales on samples of Pyramid Texts, points to Propp’s
finding that the basic units of a fairy tale are neither the characters, nor the actors,
nor the description of situations, but rather the actions (“Handlungen”): “Complex
actions constitute “roles”, like that of the “hero”, the “antagonist” (Schadenstifter),
or the the “helpers”. (“Spätentstehung”, 92; [translation KG]; The author uses the
German translation of Propp, Die historischen Wurzeln des Zaubermärchens (Munich
and Vienna, 1987). However, Zeidler does not go further into detail as to the
significance of this finding for the understanding and interpretation of Egyptian
myths; his focus is on proving the existence of myths, even in the narrow sense of
Assmann’s definition, for the time of the Pyramid Texts. In several instances
Zeidler postulates a temporal sequence of actions, ignoring the tendency of these
texts to amass generalizing, multiaspectual statements about the situation of a god
such as Osiris (e.g. 96–8, on PT 356 §§575a–82d; see p. 98): “Damit haben wir
hier nach Assmanns Kriterien einen … vollständig narrativen ‘Mythos’ vor uns. Er
wird am Anfang (und gegen Ende) …‘vergegenwärtigt’ ”.
44 katja goebs
single phrase: “A tale is a sequence of motifemes.”63 On a basic

level, this constant property of the characters’ structural relation-
ships is comparable with the similarity in what Lévi-Strauss called
their “common features”,64 and which he used to explain, for ex-
ample, the connection in the myths of North American Indians
between twins, people with harelips, and people who were born
with their feet first.65 However, in most of the Egyptian evidence it
is specifically the “action” of one actor for or against another that
links them, and thus places them in a “relationship” that determines
the mythical character of the grouping.66
Schematically, the structural relationships in mythical groupings
may then be represented in the following schemas:
a) Actor A <– PERFORMS ACTION FOR –> actor B
b) Actor A <– STANDS IN KINSHIP /SOCIAL /GEOGRAPHICAL
RELATIONSHIP WITH –> Actor B
c) Object A <– STANDS IN RELATIONSHIP OF NEED /
LOCATION / OR SIMILAR to –> Actor B
In a given ritual or funerary context in which a myth is mobilized,

the feature that determines the choice and variant of the myth is this
structural RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN A AND B, which is an invariant
element. By contrast, one might hypothesize here that a written
mythical (or other) narrative would place more emphasis on the
character of Actors A and B as fixtures, and treat the relationships
of action between them more variably.67 Thus, the mythical account
of P. Chester-Beatty I makes play at least as much with the typical
characteristics of its actors as with the events that happen to and
between them. Examples are Horus’ naïveté, Seth’s rampant aggres-
sion and hunger for power, or Isis’ cunning.
63
“The organization of myth”, 10.
64
Structural Anthropology I, e.g. 215 for “common features” in the different strata
of the Oedipus-myth.
65
The last two groups share certain features with the first, the harelip sym-
bolising an “almost split” personality—which is thought to be an inherent char-
acter-trait of twins—and the birth with the feet first representing a “violent act”
that is thought to belong with the class of actions performed by twins, who struggle
for dominance of the sibling in order to secure the right of the first-born. (e.g. Cl.
Lévi-Strauss, Myth and Meaning (London and New York, 1978), 21–8).
66
In structuralist terminology, these relationships would moreover correspond
to the basic “constituent units” of a myth (e.g. Lévi-Strauss, Structural Anthropology
I, 210–11).
67
Against the findings of Propp in his analyisis of magical tales, which—as
stated—employ a host of anonymous characters, such as “a prince”, etc.
Therefore the purpose of the text—a ritual or magical effect in the

first case, a work of entertainment or instructional literature in the
second68—determines the form the myth(emes) take. It is this flex-
ibility and “adaptability” of the myths themselves, and the focus
on the structural relationships between actors, that makes Egyptian
myths both usable and useful in a variety of contexts. These same
characteristics probably also account for their having been canon-
ized relatively late. Once canonized, a myth loses its “multi-pur-
pose” character.
The following examples should illustrate my points and allow for
some more specific comments.
My first case-study is the mythical grouping HORUS—EYE OF
HORUS—THOTH
Thoth is an important actor in the events surrounding the conflict
of Horus and Seth from the earliest written sources onwards.69 PT
215 §§142a–b speaks of Thoth’s spitting (psg) on the face of Horus
in order to remove the injury inflicted on him by Seth; the fact that
this “injury” is the gouged-out Eye of Horus is assumed to be com-
mon knowledge, and is not mentioned.70 The Pyramid Texts al-
ready speak of a single Eye of Horus. In PT 82 §§58b–c Thoth
returns Horus’s Eye to him. In other texts such as PT 478 §976b, the
Eye may be located on Thoth’s wing and needs to be ferried across
the ecliptic.71 Here the Eye seems to be of a cosmic nature, and
scholars have traditionally associated it with the moon,72 while
68
Depending on how one wishes to interpret this text; see above, n. 34.
69
H. Spieß even points to the presence of falcon and ibis next to one another
in the representations of numinous standards on the Battlefield Palette (British
Museum EA 20791 + Oxford Ashmolean 1892.11.71: Der Aufstieg eines Gottes: Un-
tersuchungen zum Gott Thot bis zum Beginn des Neuen Reiches (Hamburg, 1991), 58; see
e.g. A. J. Spencer, Early Egypt. The rise of civilization in the Nile Valley (London, 1993),
54 fig. 34).
70
Thoth also catches ( j-{¥) the testicles of Seth, which had been severed by
Horus—again this violent act is implicit: psg=k ¥r n Ýrw n=f j-dr=k nkn jr=f j-{¥=k
hr n st± “You have spat on the face of Horus for him that you may remove the
injury (brought) to it; you have caught the testicle(s) of Seth …”. In texts such as
CT VI, 307h–j Thoth as brother of both Horus and Seth is asked to “silence” (sgr)
Seth. PT 524 is particularly explicit: see H. Kees, “ Zu den ägyptischen Mondsa-
gen”, ZÄS 60 (1925): 1–15; Goebs, “Some Cosmic Aspects of the Royal Crowns”,
in Proceedings of the 7th International Congress of Egyptologists, Cambridge 3–9 September
1995, ed. C. Eyre, OLA 82 (Leuven, 1998), 447–60.
71
For the identification of the “Winding Waterway” (mr n( j)Òú) as the ecliptic,
see Krauss, Astronomische Konzepte, esp. 65–66.
72
E.g. Kees, “Mondsagen”; also P. Derchain, “Mythes et dieux lunaires en
Égypte”, in La lune—Mythes et rites, Sources Orientales 5 (Paris, 1961), 17-68;
46 katja goebs
Krauss has proposed the Morning Star.73 Spells like CT 1094 hint
at the connection between the Wdút-Eye and Thoth’s role as moon-
god: Thoth healed the Eye after he retrieved it from the attacker—
presumably Seth or Apophis (CT VII, 373a–379b).74 PT 524 alludes
to the version of the mytheme which places Horus and Seth before
the divine council, with the moon-disk growing out of Seth’s head
as a result of his having swallowed Horus’s semen; the most explicit
known source for this conception is the Ramessid P. Chester-Beatty
I.75 In the Pyramid Texts Thoth already appears as the judge and
helper in the struggle of Horus and Seth, as the one who “separated
the two gods” (or “brothers”, “companions”, “fighters”), or “ended
strife” (wp ntrwy, Pyr. 273c; wp hnnw, Pyr. 306c; wp snwy, p±n {¥úwy,
Pyr. 1963b).
It is amply evident, therefore, that in the Pyramid and Coffin
Texts Thoth is the typical helper of Horus, and is associated with
the latter’s Eye, which he retrieves and bestows on him. By exten-
sion, Thoth can reunite the body-parts of the deceased king.76
If the structural relationships in the mythical constellation
HORUS—MISSING/RETRIEVED EYE OF HORUS—THOTH are conceived
as involving at least two actors—of whom one may be passive (for
example in the role of the “recipient”)—and an action that links
them,77 the basic relationships present in these sources are threefold.
They may be represented as follows:
Spieß, Aufstieg, 62–63, 67. See Pyr. 1231c for Thoth as the owner/association of
the left celestial Eye, and Pyr. 420a–b for the identification of the moon as Thoth,
who shines in the night. In Pyr. 128a–129c Re and Thoth travel across the sky in
their disks, which represent their boats.
73
Astronomische Konzepte, 261–74; id., “Vorläufige Bemerkungen”.
74
In a different version, Thoth seeks the Eye, finds it, swallows it, and thus
shines himself as moon-Eye (CT VI, 271c).
75
Most recently Broze, Mythe et roman, 95–100.
76
E.g. Pyr. 639b, on the orders of Geb. In PT 17, a ritual spell, Thoth attaches
the deceased’s head to his body.
77
These relationships can be augmented by elements drawn from what is
known, for example, about Seth, the thief of the Eye from whom it must be
wrested, the location where it is found, or the deity by whom the restorative act
is sanctioned, aided, or applauded, such as Geb, Re, or Isis.
Table 1 Constellation HORUS—MISSING/RETRIEVED EYE OF H ORUS—T HOTH
Mythical relationship Structural relationship
a) Horus—NEEDS/IS AIDED BY—Thoth God in need—NEEDS/IS AIDED BY—Helper
b) Horus—LOST/NEEDS/IS GIVEN —Eye of Horus God—LOST/NEEDS/IS GIVEN —Object
c) Thoth—RESTORES—Eye of Horus Helper—SEIZES/BRINGS/RESTORES—Object
The concrete mythical situation (as present in potential pheno-

texts) is shown on the left, and the abstract structural relationship on
the right; the former is a concretization of the latter. In most cases,
the form this concretization takes depends directly on the context in
which it is used.
When this structural relationship is applied to a ritual context, the
cultic performer may take on the role of Thoth, who is the arche-
typical restorer of the Eye of Horus, and the offering is accordingly
equated with the Eye.78 Thus, the cultic performer as Thoth delivers
bread, beer, and loaves to the deceased king in PT 468 §§905a–b.79
However, the recipient of the cult is usually equated with Osiris
78
For the equation of every cult-offering with the Eye of Horus, see G. Rud-
nitzky, Die Aussage über “Das Auge des Horus”. Eine altägyptische Art geistiger Äusserung
nach dem Zeugnis des Alten Reiches, Analecta Aegyptiaca 5 (Copenhagen, 1956), esp.
summary, pp. 54–56. For a collection of the symbolic associations of the Eye of
Horus in the Pyramid Texts, see T. G. Allen, Horus in the Pyramid Texts (Chicago,
1916), 59–62. In the Pyramid Texts the Eye already represents such diverse ob-
jects—in the widest sense—as foodstuffs, unguents, cosmetics, insignia, incense,
the royal pyramid complex, trees, altars, barques, etc.
79
(Version P):
hú N pn jnk d¥wtj O this N! I am Thoth!
¥tp dj njswt An offering which the king gives:
rdj(=j) n=k t=k ¥nqt=k púdy=k jpn I give you these your bread, your
beer, your loaves,
prw Òr ¥rw jmj wsÒt. which have come forth before Horus
in the Broad Hall!
The Coffin Texts abound with references to Thoth as Lord of all rituals and
offerings. He is the model performer of the ritual service (CT II, 106e–f); as Lord
of writing he has written down the ritual and offering “instructions”, which are
called the “Book of Thoth” (mdút d¥wtj) or the (Writing of) the “divine book of
Thoth” (shú n mdút ntr nt d¥wtj; CT VII, 118f; CT II, 240b), and the funerary rites
are performed according to his instructions (CT III, 84a). On an 11th Dynasty
sarcophagus he is called the Lector Priest of the gods (hry-¥b(t) ntrw (CT VI, 210f–
g; Spieß, Aufstieg eines Gottes, 149, 150 n. 56). The hry-¥b(t) wears an ibis-mask on
the Barque Shrine of Sesostris I, where he is labeled: nb Òmnw m jrt=f “The Lord
48 katja goebs
rather than with Horus, since the former is the archetypical “God
in need”, while Horus is only in need in a few episodes of the
mythical cycle in which he is involved. For the purpose of the ritual
recitation, Horus, the “Owner of the Eye”, is therefore superseded
by Osiris, the “God in Need”. Particularly revealing here is PT 26
§19a, where Horus is said to be in, or as ( jmj) Osiris N, and as such
is asked to take the Eye of Horus for himself.80 In this case it may
have been felt that the rightful recipient of the Eye was Horus, so
that the connection with the actual recipient had to be made plau-
sible.
The identity of the (divine) cultic performer is equally flexible.
While Thoth brings the Eye of Horus to the deceased in the
form of an offering-table in PT 82 §§58a–b,81 Horus, in the role of
Avenger of His Father, is himself the helper in PT 28 §19c: “O
Osiris N, Horus has given you his Eye”.82 In spells such as PT 367
§§635a–c Horus and Thoth work together in bringing the Eye of
Horus, assembling the limbs of the deceased as Osiris, and defeating
his enemies. 83
The identity of the helper is therefore secondary; what matters is
the relationship “God in need—IS AIDED BY—Helper”. This is fur-
ther underlined by spells such as PT 175 §102a, where Geb is the
of Hermopolis in his duty” (Chapelle Blanche, architrave C mid, east C2’, scene
4: P. Lacau and H. Chevrier, Une chapelle de Sésostris Ier à Karnak, Service des
Antiquités de l’Egypte (Cairo, 1956–69), 66, pl. 13). CT VII, 104a–c states that
Thoth fixed the offering regulations for Osiris and thus for all the dead; see also
B. Altenmüller, Synkretismus in den Sargtexten, GOF IV/7 (Wiesbaden, 1975), 240.
80
¥rw jmj wsjr N mn n=k jrt ¥rw Òr=k “Horus (who is) in Osiris N—take for
yourself the Eye of Horus to yourself!”
81
d¥wtj … pr.n=f hr jrt ¥rw—Òúyt “Thoth … he has come forth with the Eye
of Horus—an altar.”
82
wsjr N dj.n n=k ¥rw jrt=f Osiris N, Horus has given you his Eye—
¥tm n=k ¥r=k jm=s. Provide your face with it!
83
j {b.n n=k ¥rw {wt=k dmd.n=f tw … ndr.n n=k d¥wtj Òftj=k … “Horus has gath-
ered your limbs for you … Thoth has seized your enemy for you”. See also PT
323 §519b, PT 526 §1247c (purification). Cases like this prompted Otto to state,
with reference to ritual, that “im Gang der Handlung nicht die Abfolge
der mythischen Ereignisse den Ablauf bestimmt, sondern die reale Handlung der
Rite” (Rite und Mythus, 13). The same is argued by Willems for the mythical con-
tent of the Shu spells in the Coffin Texts, which he believes to reflect: “not a
mythical narrative but a ritual sequence of acts that were performed prior to
sunrise in the place of embalming” (Heqata, e.g. 323–24). Interpretations like these
also underlay the assumption by the myth-ritual school that ritual had primacy
over myth. If the hypothesis of the inherent flexibility of myth is accepted, how-
one who bestows the (two) Eye(s) on the recipient,84 potentially evok-
ing the myth of the legitimate bestowal of the kingship in Heliopolis,
while the Eyes refer here to the two crowns.85 The fact that Geb
stands in a relationship of support with Horus in the mythical strug-
gle for the kingship seems to qualify him also as a helper of Osiris,
with whom the deceased is identified.
A particularly explicit case of this centrality of the structural rela-
tionship between actors over and above their identity is the episode
of placing the hands on the god in the Daily Cultic Ritual, which
is attested from the New Kingdom but goes back to much older
sources. Here the cultic performer identifies himself as Thoth and
invokes the god to awaken in three different forms: the generic
divine form of the addressee, but also those of Sokar and Osiris—
manifestations of the god of the dead. He then claims to have come
at the command of Atum, and to place his fingers on the god, which
are identified at once as those of Horus, Thoth, and Anubis—an-
other typical helper of the deceased/Osiris.86
rú n rdt {wy=f ¥r ntr Spell for placing his hands on the god
mk d¥wtj jw r múú=k Behold, Thoth has come to see you,
nms r ÒÒ=f sdyt=f r p¥=f the Nemes at his neck, his tail at his behind.
rs tw … Awaken! …
jy.n=j m wpwty n jt=j tmw I have come as the messenger of my father
Atum,
{wy=j ¥r=k m ¥rw my arms are on you as Horus,
ever, the question whether a given ritual “departed” from a hypothetical (sequen-
tial) mythical narrative is mute.
84
dj.n n=k gb jrty=k ¥tp=K “Geb has given you your two eyes, that you may be
content”. H. Altenmüller has proposed that this spell belongs with the ritual of
removing bandages before the offering is received, and is part of the “kleines
Opferritual” (Begräbnisritual), 102–03).
85
Probably alluded to in PT 468 §§977c–d (cited above) where the Eye is given
to Horus “in the presence of his father Geb” (dj n=f jrt=f m-bú¥ jt=f gb). For the
prominent association of Eye(s) and crown(s), see Rudnitzky, Aussage über das Auge
des Horus, 50–51; H. Roeder, Mit dem Auge sehen. Studien zur Semantik der Herrschaft
in den Toten- und Kulttexten, SAGA 16 (Heidelberg, 1996), e.g. 307–20. A further
example of this kind is PT 368 §§639a–b, where Geb is said to give Osiris’ head
to him and to cause Thoth to reassemble his limbs (¥tp n=k gb j-mr.n=f tw Òw.n=f
tw rdj.n=f n=k tp=k rdj.n=f j {b tw d¥wtj ). Schott (Mythe, 38–39) and Altenmüller
(Begräbnisritual, 61) identified this spell as one of the “Hymns with name-formula”,
which Schott believed to have been recited after the completion of related rituals.
86
A. Moret, Le rituel du culte divin journalier en Égypte d’après les papyrus de Berlin
et les textes du temple de Séti I er à Abydos, Annales du Musée Guimet, Bibliothèque
d’Etude 14 (Paris, 1902), 167–68; David, Guide, 66. Anubis is the embalmer of
Osiris, and Moret wished to see his occurrence in this text as evidence for the
funerary origin of this ritual (p. 169).
50 katja goebs
drty=j ¥r=k m d¥wtj my hands are on you as Thoth,

db{w=j ¥r=k m jnpw Òntj s¥-ntr and my fingers are on you as Anubis, fore-
most of the God’s booth.
jnk ¥m {nÒ n r{w87 I am the living servant of Re!
The role of “Helper” is here shared among three deities, thus guar-
anteeing the success of the ritual treatment for restoration. Accord-
ingly, the structural relationship between a God in need and the
Helper frequently overrides the specific relationship between char-
acters that is known from later mythical narratives. Moreover, the
fact that various gods, even the sungod and Isis,88 can be identified
as Osiris and Sokar in the cultic context is revealing. The function
as “God in need” temporarily supersedes other characteristics, even
such fundamental ones as gender. Were we to write an account of
the Osiris myth on the basis of ritual texts like those I have cited,
we would end up with a distorted picture. The factor that shapes the
mythical phenotext is the structural relationship between actors and
object; both the personae and the objects are variable and may be
exchanged.89
In ritual contexts, the mythical groupings outlined in Table 1 may
therefore appear as follows:
Table 2 Structural relationships of need in ritual contexts
a) Osiris — Thoth
(deceased) — Horus
Re — NEEDS /IS AIDED BY Anubis God in need—NEEDS/IS AIDED BY
Isis, et. al. — Geb, et. al. — Helper
b) Osiris
(deceased)
Re — NEEDS /IS GIVEN —Eye of Horus God— LOST /NEEDS /IS GIVEN—
Isis, etc. Object/Body part
c) Thoth
Horus — BRING Eye of Horus Helper—SEIZES /BRINGS/RESTORES
Anubis — Object/Body part
Geb
87
The Abydos version omits “Re”.
88
One of the sungod’s manifestations is, of course, Osiris at this time. For Isis
see Cf. A. M. Calverley, M. F. Broome, The temple of King Sethos I at Abydos, I
(Chicago and London, 1933), pl. 19.
89
Here, my interpretation contrasts with some earlier approaches that would,
for example, see the apparent “overlap” in the characters of Horus and Osiris as
evidence for a historical context, in which Horus was the royal falcon god and had
not yet been identified as the son of Osiris (e.g. Rudnitzky, Aussage über das Auge des
Horus, 53).
These structural relationships, as well as the function of the at-

tested texts as “cultic” in the widest sense, underlie the fact that
Osiris as the “God in need” is almost always present in these texts,
whereas the gods who help him vary rather more.90
Hence, flexibility can be observed both in the potential applica-
tion of the same mythical episode to various rituals or contexts and
in the application of different mythical episodes to the same ritual.
A further case of the latter mechanism is the simultaneous associa-
tion of the cult object, typically identified as the Eye of Horus, with
the ascendant solar Eye. Some episodes of the Daily Cultic Ritual
may serve as examples.
In the episode of applying ointment to the head of the god,91 this
cultic offering is—as always—identified as the Eye of Horus. At the
same time, however, it is the solar Eye Wadjit-Sakhmet when it rises
from the horizon and punishes the enemies of the sungod:
n¥r¥r jb n jmn-r {w … The heart of Amun-Re … rejoices
m Òsf jrt=f nt dt=f at meeting his bodily Eye!
n¥r¥r jb n ¥rw The heart of Horus rejoices
m Òsf jrt=f nt dt=f at meeting his bodily Eye!
swúd=s tw shkr=s tw May it refresh you, may it adorn you
m rn=s pwy n wúdyt sndm sty … in this its name of Wadjit, sweet of
(or: who sweetens) the scent!
[There follows the enumeration of oils; then]
hú jmn-r {w … O Amun-Re,
m¥ n=k jrt ¥rw m mdt The Eye of Horus is filled with ointment
… for you.
dj=k sw r ¥út=k jrt ¥rw May you place it on your forehead, the
Eye of Horus,
sÒmt ps=s n=k ntrw jmjw-Òt st± Sakhmet, when she burns for you the
gods that are in the following of Seth.
rdjt n=k gb jw{=f … Geb has given you his inheritance, …
mú{-Òrw=k r Òftjw=k and you are justified/triumphant against
your enemies.
jst jt.n=k wrrt Òntj ntrw tpjw tú Now, you have seized the wrrt-crown
before the gods on earth.
wp-wúwt wp=f n=k wúwt r Òftjw=k Wepwawet, he opens the ways against
your enemies for you
…
jm=k jrt ¥rw r ¥út=k … Take the Eye of Horus to your forehead!
90
Here the repertoire found in the Pyramid and Coffin Texts is rather more
extensive, since these texts represent (excerpts from) a substantial collection, while
the daily cultic ritual, due to its broadly canonized form (and only a few attested
exemplars), is rather more limited (cf. the remarks made earlier concerning the
canonization of texts).
91
rú n rdjt mdt / rú n ¥nq mdt (Moret, Rituel du culte, 190–94; David, Guide, 70).
52 katja goebs
The two Eyes also merge in the episodes for presenting the green
wúdt cloth92 and the red jns cloth.93 Both are identified as the solar
Eye—because of their solar connotations, which are based on their
colours and names—and yet are said to be the Eye of Horus, which
is healed for him. We observe a mixing of mythical referents that is
facilitated in part by the symbolism of the Eye. Indeed, the keyword
“Eye” (of Horus) may automatically have evoked the image of the
other important divine Eye, that of the sun. However, the solar
associations seem to be limited to cult-offerings that share at least
one more feature with the solar Eye, such as colour (red, in the case
of the jns cloth), name (wúdt—Wúdyt for the green cloth), or a shining
quality in the case of the ointment. In addition, the texts state that
both the red cloth and the oil are located at the god’s “forehead”.
In the case of the ointment, the image accompanying the text con-
firms this: it is applied to the god’s uraeus. In the case of the textiles,
the image shows the king presenting two strips of cloth, and it is not
clear to which part of the body they were applied. However, the
crowned head of a god is his luminous feature, and the divine light
associated with it is generally multi-coloured.94 With respect to this
fact, as well as to the typical association and identification of crowns
92
I cite the version in the chapel of Osiris in the temple of Seti I at Abydos
in order to bring out how solar imagery is applied to non-solar deities:
rú n dbú mnÒt wúdt Spell for dressing with the green/Wadjit-cloth.
Ò{y wúdyt … jwtt Òsf=s May Wadjit arise … who cannot be opposed
m pt m tú in sky and earth!
swúd=s wsjr … May she refresh Osiris …
rnpj=f mj rnpw He will be young like young plants.
… wsjr mn n=k jrt ¥rw … Osiris, take for yourself the Eye of Horus!
swdú=f jm=s May he be made well through it!
(Moret, Rituel du culte, 184; David, Guide, 67; Calverley and Broome, Temple of
King Sethos I, I, pl. 13).
93
rú n dbú mnÒt jnsy Spell for dressing with the red cloth.
Ò{ jrt r {w nb túwy May the Eye of Re, Lord of the Two Lands,
arise,
¥qút m jw nsrsr the Ruler in the Island of Flames,
wrt nbt n±n ¥nwt jr(jw)=s … Great One, Lady of the storm, Mistress of her
creator.
Ò{=t m ¥{t=f May you arise at his forehead!
…
imn-r {w … {nÒ.tj mú.tj Amun-Re … may you be alive, seen,
rnpj.tj mj r {w r { nb and rejuvenated like Re every day!
…
jmn-r {w … mn n=k jrt ¥rw Amun-Re … Take for yourself the Eye of Horus,
múú=k jm=st that you may see with it.
(Moret, Rituel du culte, 185–87; David, Guide, 68).
94
From an early date, all gods share the luminous attributes of the sungod and
with the uraeus and thus the goddess of the solar Eye, it appears
likely that the application of the multi-coloured cloths was (or at
least refers to) the deity’s head or crown. This association is rein-
forced by the scene of presenting the white or shining cloth (mnÒt
¥d<t>), which is said to render the face of the god “perfect”.95 The
invocations of the solar Eye in the context are then consistent with
the type of offering presented.
Thus, while the identity of both Actors and Object is variable, the
mythical associations chosen in these examples are not random but
rather based on two types of structural relationships, the RELATION-
SHIP OF NEED discussed above, and an additional one of LOCATION.
Table 3 Structural relationships in the cultic presentation of cloths and ointments
a) Amun-Re—NEEDS /IS AIDED BY— God in need—NEEDS /IS AIDED BY—

Thoth/Horus Helper
b) Amun-Re— NEEDS /IS GIVEN— God—LOST/NEEDS /IS GIVEN—
Eyes of Horus/Re Object/Body part
c) Thoth/Horus—BRINGS — Helper— SEIZES/BRINGS /RESTORES—
Eyes of Horus/Re Object/Body Part
d) Eye of Horus/Re—IS LOCATED ATOP— (Needed) Object—IS LOCATED ATOP—
Amun-Re God (in need)
Here the LOCATION of the needed object on the recipient’s head

is subordinate to the primary structural relationship of NEED, but is
nevertheless effective in determining the selection of mythemes.
The processes involved in this case can be represented schemati-
cally as follows:
other cosmic deities. For luminous crowns and heads, see Goebs, “Some cosmic
aspects”; id., Crowns in Early Egyptian Funerary Literature: Symbols of Royalty, Rebirth,
and Destruction, Griffith Institute Monographs (Oxford, in press). This luminosity
renders the deity visble. Compare also the statement in the recitation accompany-
ing the presentation of the jns-cloth (cf. previous footnote), which refers to the
visibility of the god who is addressed: “may you be seen”.
95
See Moret, Rituel du culte, 179–80, who also referred to the fact that the cloth
seems to be applied to the head. A further, more self-evident parallel is the scene
“Establishing the Double feather crown on the head” (smn ±wty m tp). This does
not, however, specify the crown to be the Eye of Horus, but simply refers to it as
Wrt which is one of the typical names of the solar Eye (Moret, Rituel du culte, 239–
41; David, Guide, 69).
54 katja goebs
Function of context –> determines choice of primary

mytheme(s)
(= ritual bestowal of cult-object) (Structural RELATIONSHIP OF
N EED–>
Mythemes from Osiris and Horus/
Seth cycles)
Function of co-text –> determines choice of second-

ary mytheme
(= ritual application specifically (Structural relationship of LOCATION
to the head) ATOP–>
Mythemes from the solar cycle/
Distant Goddess)
An additional structural relationship, that is directly dependent on

the RELATIONSHIP OF NEED, may be added to the relationships dis-
cussed so far for ritual contexts. It is the LOCATION of the (needed)
Object FAR AWAY from the recipient. This is, of course, ultimately
nothing but an inversion of the relationship (b) God—LOST/NEEDS—
Object/Body-part, with the focus shifted to the Object. However,
besides its use in ritual, this relationship is particularly prominent in
mythical descriptions of cosmic phenomena, and has led to broadly
“naturalist” interpretations of certain myths, such as that of the
Myth of the Distant Goddess as a description of the summer sol-
stice.96
However, in line with the principles outlined in the introductory
part of this discussion, this is not the only cosmic situation that can
be described with the leaving (and return) of a goddess who is gen-
erally a form of the solar Eye. This structural relationship occurs, for
example, also in the Myth of the Destruction of Mankind.97 While
96
(For the Demotic version) W. Spiegelberg, Der ägyptische Mythus vom Sonnen-
auge (der Papyrus der Tierfabeln—“Kufi”): nach dem Leidener demotischen Papyrus I 384
(Strassburg, 1917); W. Westendorf, “Sonnenlauf”, in Lexikon der Ägyptologie V (Wies-
baden, 1982), 1102. H. Junker (Die Onurislegende. DAW 59/1–2 (Vienna, 1913),
166) argued against this interpretation. Regarding the Myth of the Angry Solar
Eye as distinct from that of the Distant Goddess, he wished to interpret the former
in terms of the lunar Eye that disappeared and was retrieved, believing in a
conflation with the myths surrounding the injured Eye of Horus (e.g. Onurislegende,
134; 153-54). The most recent treatment of the version(s) preserved at Philae is D.
Inconnu-Bocquillon, Le mythe de la Déesse Lointaine à Philae. Bibliothèque d’étude 132
(Cairo, 2001). Note the author’s remark that none of the texts studied by her
“développe un exposé complet et structuré du mythe” (p. 7). For a short summary
of all the different versions in Graeco-Roman temples see H. Junker, Der Auszug
der Hathor-Tefnut aus Nubien. Abhandlungen der Preussischen Akademie der Wissen-
schaften (Berlin, 1911), 3-10.
97
E. Hornung, Der ägyptische Mythos von der Himmelskuh. Eine Ätiologie des Unvoll-
kommenen. OBO 46 (Fribourg and Göttingen, 1982).
this is not the most prominent feature of this myth, the Eye-goddess
is there called to assist (and therefore clearly located far from) the
ageing sungod, who has lost the authority over his subjects, that is,
mankind. Having killed the human rebels, and waded in their blood,
the Eye-goddess returns (verses 49-60). In a second episode, the
goddess goes out again to destroy (the survivors of?) mankind, but is
tricked by the pouring out of red-coloured beer on earth, which she
mistakes for blood. Drinking the beer the goddess becomes intoxi-
cated and thus appeased, and mankind is saved (verses 87-95).
Elsewhere,98 I have suggested that this episode may be related to
the daily reddening of the sky at dawn, which, in Egyptian terms,
coincides with the slaying of the solar enemies. The return of the
goddess would then represent the rising of the sun, which coincides
with the redness in the sky. The periods during which the goddess
is absent would, accordingly, correspond to night time.99 The result,
then, is a description of (aspects of) the daily solar cycle. Such an
interpretation fits well with the second composition along with
which this narrative is transmitted, the Book of the Celestial Cow. Es-
sentially an etiology of the functioning of the cosmos, it describes,
among other things, how the moongod Thoth came to be the rep-
resentative and substitute of the sungod at night.100
Another Version of the “Distant goddess” story can also be found
as part of the so-called Mut-ritual at Karnak,101 which identifies the
goddess as that of the western delta town Kom el-Hisn. A parallel
is inscribed on some relief blocks from the temple of Elkab, the main
cultic centre of the goddess Nekhbet. Since Nekhbet displayed cer-
tain lunar associations,102 this version may have had a(n additional)
lunar meaning.103 The officiating priest, here identified with Ptah as
98
Goebs, Crowns, chapter 3.5. For the similarities in the two myths see also
Junker, Auszug der Hathor-Tefnut, 16-19, who did, however, argue against any close
links between the two stories. See also id., Onurislegende, 160-61.
99
Compare the explicit statement (Hornung, Himmelskuh, 9/41.87) that the
goddess goes out “in the early morning” (m dwúw).
100
Hornung, Himmelskuh, 23/45.237-39.
101
P. Berlin 3053 VIII,7—XIX,5 (U. Verhoeven, Ph. Derchain, Le voyage de la
déesse libyque: ein Text aus dem “Mutritual” des Pap. Berlin 3053. Rites Égyptiens 5,
(Brussels, 1985)).
102
See H. Bonnet, Reallexikon der ägyptischen Religionsgeschichte (Berlin, 1952), 508
for references.
103
See Ph. Derchain, Elkab I: Les monuments religieux à l’entrée de l’Ouady Hellal.
(Brussels, 1971), 12-13) for the lunar Eye having to be retrieved, just like its solar
counterpart, from Nubia; also Junker, Auszug der Hathor-Tefnut, 22-3 for associa-
tions of Hathor-Tefnut with lunar symbols, which he found puzzling, however. A
56 katja goebs
the bringer of the Distant Goddess (in contrast to other versions,

where the retrieving gods are mostly Thoth and her brother Shu, or
Onuris),104 claims to have found the goddess both in Punt (the loca-
tion known from the much later Graeco-Roman versions of the
myth), but also in the Delta and in Libya.105 While the text’s refer-
ences to locations in the directions of the cardinal points indicate
that the presence of the solar Eye in, and her journey across, all of
Egypt (including neighbouring areas) is described, the specific refer-
ence to finding the goddess in Punt, which is present in most ver-
sions of the myth,106 suggests that we ultimately see a variation on
the theme “Distant Goddess” in this text.
Finally, there are also a few instances in which Isis as solar Eye
defends and assists Osiris in the versions of the myth at Philae.107
Junker remarked on the similarities between one of these mythical
stories surrounding the solar Eye, the legend of Onuris who brings
back the angry Eye from Nubia, and those stories surrounding the
(often lunar) Eye of Horus. Remarking in particular on actions such
as “bringing” and “presenting” both these Eyes, he concluded that
both myths were originally lunar108 in character, or at least referred
Nekhbet in Punt appears in the Ramessid Papyrus Leiden I 348 (J. F. Borghouts,
The magical texts of Papyrus Leiden I 348. [= OMRO 51 (1970)] (Leiden, 1971), 151-
52.
104
E.g. Bocquillon-Inconnu, Déesse lointaine, 195-96; Junker, Onurislegende, 7-9;
id., Auszug der Hathor-Tefnut, 41-4.
105
P. Berlin 3053,XVII,9-XVIII,6; Verhoeven/Derchain, Déesse libyque, 26-9,
section O,).
106
Junker, Auszug der Hathor-Tefnut, 24-9; Bocquillon-Inconnu, Déesse lointaine,
197-98.
107
Bocquillon-Inconnu, Déesse lointaine, 257-58.
108
It might be worth noting that, just as the Eye goddess Hathor, her sons Ihy
and Chonsu can equally be said to be in, or come from, Punt: CT 187 (III, 90e-
f) locates Khonsu on his way to Punt on the path of the deceased, with his
“mother” Hathor; CT VI, 162t; 162v: Khonsu-Ihy on the way to Punt; CT 195
(III, 114d-e): the deceased found Khonsu standing in his path when he came down
from Punt. CT 334, a spell for becoming Ihy, equates this god, as son of Hathor,
with Khonsu, and locates him in Punt, where he claims to have been born. Both
Ihy and Khonsu are manifestations of the moon. There are at least four possible
associations that can account for the connection of these youthful gods with Punt:
a) As sons of Hathor, who is typically associated with Punt in at least one of her
roles, the two deities are with their mother; b) as cosmic Eye deities, representing
the moon, the same journey as that of the solar Eye may have been attributed to
them; c) as representatives of the moon, they were naturally associated with the
role of Thoth in the Myth of the Distant Goddess—as stated, Thoth is one of the
typical bringers of the solar Eye; d) in particular Ihy, the sistrum-bearer, was the
appeaser of the angry solar Eye. Since the Myth of the Distant Goddess involved
to the old myth of the sky-god, whose left Eye was robbed and
returned.109 With reference to the typical “retriever” of the Eye,
Thoth, Otto stated, that Thoth “heilt und fängt das Mondauge,
bringt aber auch das Sonnenauge zurück”, and argued for a whole
range of older cosmic myths, that were conflated over time.110
However, rather than postulating a single, original myth of one
cosmic body, which was then merged with others, it might be more
fruitful to think in terms of a (flexible) myth based on the structural
relationship of an Object that is MISSING, or LOCATED FAR FROM its
owner. Such a (genotext) myth would then allow for a variety of
interpretations and the composition of several mythical phenotexts,
including explanations of a whole range of cosmic phenomena.
Table 4 Structural relationships in myths on the absence of a divine Eye111
a) Re—NEEDS /IS AIDED BY — God in need—NEEDS /IS AIDED BY—Helper

Thoth/Shu/Onuris/Ptah
b) Re—NEEDS /IS GIVEN—Eye of God—LOST/NEEDS/IS GIVEN—Object/Body
Re (in various forms) part
c) Thoth/Shu/Onuris/Ptah— Helper— SEIZES/BRINGS /RESTORES—Object/
BRING—Eyes of Re/Horus Body Part
d) Eye of Re (in various forms) Object/Body part—IS LOCATED FAR FROM—
—IS LOCATED FAR FROM—Re God (in need)
The examples of structural relationships I have presented here are

by no means exhaustive. 112 They were chosen to give a glimpse of
her appeasement, before she could be brought back to Egypt to defend her father
Re, it might have seemed appropriate to locate this god (and by extension Khon-
su) in Punt.
109
Onurislegende, 129ff; summary 154.
110
“Augensagen”, in Lexikon der Ägyptologie I (Wiesbaden, 1972), 565.
111
This table only depicts a limited number of features that can be found in
the myths surrounding the solar Eye.
112
See also Goebs, Crowns, which explores in detail various realizations of the
relationship God A—( TEMPORARILY) SUBSTITUTES—God B. It is particularly well
suited for descriptions of cosmic interchanges, such as the daily interchange of
morning star, sun, and moon (or the constellation Orion). See also Goebs, “njswt
n¥¥—Kingship, cosmos, and time”, in Proceedings of the 8th International Con-
gress of Egyptologists (ICE), Cairo: 28 March—2 April 2000 (Cairo, 2002) for
the political symbolism employed in this divine grouping. Another pertinent ex-
ample can be found in the attribution of a son’s role to various gods involved in
the creative process in the Coffin Texts (besides Shu, we find Ptah, Hapi, and
58 katja goebs
the dynamics underlying the choice of mythemes in various con-

texts, and their adaptability to those contexts.
Conclusion
In this article I have made three principal suggestions: First, the

purpose or function a mytheme fulfils in a given context has to be
viewed as the essential factor that determines the shape or version
it adopts. Second, the dependence of a mythical statement on the
purpose of the text in which it is employed does not preclude the
existence of myths independent of this application.113 Due to the
potentially oral character of (early) mythical narratives on the one
hand, and the chance of transmission on the other, evidence for the
whole range of uses must remain limited. The practice of employing
more than one mythical association to render a ritual or spell effec-
tive suggests that there was a wide variety of myths from which a
selection could be taken. These myths were probably not fixed in
terms of structure and (to some extent) actors, and were thus adapt-
able to a wide range of contexts.
Finally, the very nature and purpose of Egyptian myths may have
lain in this detailed flexibility. Realizations of a myth in one or
several phenotexts would then not represent “departures” from a
single underlying, fixed myth, but rather one of its possible forms. In
other words, in both their potential, as yet unrealized form, as well
as in their respective realization, these phenotexts would have con-
stituted integral parts of the (flexible, genotextual) myth. We should
recall here Lévi-Strauss’s assertion that there is no “single ‘true’
version of which all the others are but copies or distortions. Every
version belongs to the myth.” 114—including (sometimes fragmentary)
“realizations” in ritual and other texts.
This inherent flexibility of the myths may have been one reason,
Heka. S. Bickel, La cosmogonie égyptienne avant le Nouvel Empire. OBO 134 (Fribourg
and Göttingen, 1993), 123-58).
113
Thus already Baines, “Egyptian Myth and discourse”, 94.
114
Structural Anthropology I, 217, 218. In other disciplines, this assertion seems to
have been accepted more widely; see, for example, W. Burkert, “Literarische
Texte und funktionaler Mythos: Zu I±tar und AtraÒasis”, in J. Assmann, W. Bur-
kert, F. Stolz, Funktionen und Leistungen des Mythos. Drei altorientalische Beispiele, OBO
48 (Freiburg and Göttingen, 1982), 63: “Ein einzelner Mythos ist demnach nicht
identisch mit einem einzigen, bestimmten Text. … es wird nicht kopiert sondern
generiert.”
perhaps the principal one, why they were not recorded in narrative
form until comparatively late.115 The supposed “problem” of the late
development of myths in Egypt becomes meaningful only with ref-
erence to this last point. The fact that written mythical narratives,
potentially as entertainment literature, appear relatively late is—
while not unique in world mythology—significant on a number of
levels. Most notably, it suggests that the primary purpose of written
myth(eme)s in the official culture was to express features of the
world symbolically or allegorically within primarily religious and
ritual contexts, and to influence the world by appealing to “mythical
precedents” that would give an event perpetual validity. The origin
of mythical narratives, by contrast, lay in a different sphere—most
likely oral, and potentially non-elite. We can only speculate about
the reasons why these narratives were eventually written down. In
view of the arguments presented, I would suggest, however, that the
dearth of coherent mythical narratives has nothing to do with peo-
ple’s not having achieved a state of detachment from the divine in
early periods, as has been suggested by some authors.116
Finally, it is worth stressing that, by citing authors such as Lévi-
Strauss and Propp, I do not wish to suggest that we should simply
return to making structuralist analyses of all Egyptian myths, replete
with numerous mathematical formulae and a quest to reduce every
myth to a collection of binary patterns of opposition. What I hope
to have shown is that certain patterns that can be found in the use
of Egyptian mythemes coincide with some of the findings of struc-
turalists and formalists. As so often, one monolithic theory or model
is not sufficient to explain such multi-layered and heterogenous cul-
tural phenomena as myth. Rather, we should work with an open
and flexible (!) mind and accept that no one approach will exhaust
the meaning of the material.
115
Compare here also Fritz Graf’s conclusion in relation to the fact that
Propp’s narrative types are not restricted to traditional tales or myths: “Von daher
zeigt sich, daß das Eigentliche des Mythos gerade nicht auf der Ebene der Erzähl-
struktur liegen kann” (F. Graf, Griechische Mythologie. Eine Einführung, 5th ed. (Düs-
seldorf, 2001), 54.
116
E.g. Assmann, “Verborgenheit”, 42.

A Functional Approach To Egyptian Myth A

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approach to egyptian myth and mythemes 27

A FUNCTIONAL APPROACH TO EGYPTIAN MYTH

Oriental Institute, University of Oxford

For many years scholars of Egyptian religion have focused on myth,

© Brill, Leiden, 2002 JANER 2

a particular focus of attention on the part of Egyptologists, notably

The supposedly late development of Egyptian myths was first

terpretation, arguing rather that none of the early attestations of

Other scholars, such as Schott and Assmann, employ two further

poem, drama, dance performance, but also an image on a vase or

rativity only develops out of the necessity to infuse ancient rituals,

eternal validity, so that it is “timeless” (Structural Anthropology I, translated by C.

This implies that Assmann accepts the existence of a coherent geno-

In other words, contrary to the traditional opinion of Egyptolo-

The process leads to an increased canonization both of mythical

A parallel like this one exemplifies that the presupposition of an

A “Functional” Approach to Egyptian Myth(eme)s

knowledge of the “genre character” (Textsortenhaftigkeit) of funerary and cultic texts

incidents and allusions, rather than a single mythical narrative, lies

a ritual, for example, are drawn, and which particular episode or

Structural Relationships of Actors and Objects as Basis for the Formation

However, according to Propp’s model, the sequentiality of these

single phrase: “A tale is a sequence of motifemes.”63 On a basic

In a given ritual or funerary context in which a myth is mobilized,

Therefore the purpose of the text—a ritual or magical effect in the

Table 1 Constellation HORUS—MISSING/RETRIEVED EYE OF H ORUS—T HOTH

Mythical relationship Structural relationship

a) Horus—NEEDS/IS AIDED BY—Thoth God in need—NEEDS/IS AIDED BY—Helper

b) Horus—LOST/NEEDS/IS GIVEN —Eye of Horus God—LOST/NEEDS/IS GIVEN —Object

c) Thoth—RESTORES—Eye of Horus Helper—SEIZES/BRINGS/RESTORES—Object

The concrete mythical situation (as present in potential pheno-

drty=j ¥r=k m d¥wtj my hands are on you as Thoth,

Mythical relationship Structural relationship

These structural relationships, as well as the function of the at-

Table 3 Structural relationships in the cultic presentation of cloths and ointments

Mythical relationship Structural relationship

a) Amun-Re—NEEDS /IS AIDED BY— God in need—NEEDS /IS AIDED BY—

Here the LOCATION of the needed object on the recipient’s head

Function of context –> determines choice of primary

Function of co-text –> determines choice of second-

An additional structural relationship, that is directly dependent on

the bringer of the Distant Goddess (in contrast to other versions,

Table 4 Structural relationships in myths on the absence of a divine Eye111

Mythical relationship Structural relationship

a) Re—NEEDS /IS AIDED BY — God in need—NEEDS /IS AIDED BY—Helper

The examples of structural relationships I have presented here are

the dynamics underlying the choice of mythemes in various con-

In this article I have made three principal suggestions: First, the

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