Ethnographic Field Map: Egyptology

The trivium of the liberal arts, widely considered three essential elements of an effective education, consists of grammar, logic, and rhetoric. Therein, logic is the primary ability to reason, and grammar follows as the structural system by which one can communicate that logic. The piece that ties these essential intellectual abilities together, however, is rhetoric. Rhetoric consists of the application of logic to grammar; the communicative choices employed to most accurately convey what’s inside one man’s head into the skulls of his peers. Because of this essential connection between rhetoric and language, such intentional communicative instances can be seen nearly everywhere — language without rhetoric is, in fact, very difficult to find. An excellent illustration of this nature is in scientific fields like the study of ancient Egypt, or “Egyptology.” One would expect that scientific fields like this, especially one so based on hard, physical facts as an anthropological discipline, would be devoid of rhetoric: the idea of applying persuasive techniques to a study of artifacts and exhumed locations does not seem realistic when considering the goals of such research. However, those very intentions necessitate a kind of rhetorical fashioning which facilitates the objective, scientific approach anticipated from Egyptologists. Writing and other presentations mediums alike in Egyptology, though objective and scientific, are rhetorically engineered in a general trend towards brevity, reference, and comparison which function to remove issues like ethnocentrism from their audience and, in less formal settings, to impress relevance of ancient cultures on modern students.

The term “Egyptology” brings to mind images of the 1920's: Khaki-clad archaeologists in black-and-white photos, Egyptian-revival costumes on “flapper” girls at parties, and a spirit of adventure and reclamation many consider as removed from today as the artifacts themselves. This explorative nature, and the study of ancient Egypt, however, are far from relics of the past. Of the hundreds of active anthropological journals in the English language alone, at least six major publications are dedicated solely to Egyptology, while articles about new discoveries from ancient Egypt frequently take cover stories not only in anthropology journals, but umbrella scientific publications as illustrious as National Geographic. This formal writing makes up the majority of Egyptological literature, and is therefore an excellent place to begin our exploration of rhetoric in Egyptology. Robert c. Allen’s article on the origins of egyptian culture represents many of the anthropological interests and rhetorical designs typically included in papers on the study of ancient Egypt. On the very first page several rhetorical choices shed light on the logical intentions of the author. Firstly, the indented abstract that begins his paper speaks to the academic nature of the article, overtly declaring the claims he will make in the remainder of the text before it is even read. This is a utility for peers doing research, but also reflects an interest in brevity which we will see appear throughout the field’s media, as the abstract is not only a synopsis but is composed of short, n0-frills sentences that get straight to the point in a very facts-up-front scientific manner. This synopsis is followed by another expression of brevity: there is very little in the way of context or introduction before Allen begins asking essential questions and making important claims. This reflects the scientific, professional audience he intends this paper for — an audience looking for information, and who are likely pre-educated on the general background. That expectation of schema, and the aforementioned interest in brevity, are also evident in the way Allen cites his peers (a pattern very common to the publications of Egyptologists): very little explanation is given when a citation is made. Allen, and most of his peers, expect that someone dedicated to reading this scientific article will read the other articles he cites as well, so he doesn’t waste his time explaining the details, but rather makes claims and cites texts that support them. This allows him to focus on developing his own argument rather than backtracking on broken ground, and rhetorically impresses the academic rigor of his study.

Another facet of Allen’s use of references is readily apparent in his article as well: they’re everywhere. This speaks to the anthropological reserach values he has rhetorically embedded in his writing. Anthropologists strive to avoid what they call “ethnocentrism,” a worldview which measures all cultures by the standard of one’s own traditions. Anthropologists believe this kind of perception casts unfair judgement on other cultures while styding them, and evaluates them by standards which are likely irrelevant in their society. The avoidance of ethnocentrism is particularly relevant in the study of ancient Egypt becasue of its temporal dislocation — evaluating such a distant culture by modern standards obviously makes them seem bizarre and primitive; shirtless, guyliner-wearing, stone-temple dwellers. Egyptologists hope to avoid this kind of lens, and therefore strive to evaluate Egyptian culture by comparing it to itself, hence the incredible prevalence of references found in Allen’s article — an element which rhetorically accomplishes the avoidence of ethnocentrism. This need to be sensitive of the schema of your audience is more readily apparent in certain discussions within Egyptology. Russel Middleton’s article on incestuous relationships in ancient Egypt presents an excellent example of behavior that, through a modern ethnocentric lens, would be considered taboo (and therefore hinder study). A close reading of a portion of his article reveals the rhetorical choices that allow him to keep readers out of an ethnocentric rut: “A second example of father-daughter marriage that is generally accepted by most Egyptologists involves Amenhotep III (1397–1360 B.C.), who was probably married to his daughter Satamon(7) and possibly to another daughter as well.(8)” We see Middleton completely avoiding the modern viewpoint, and stating facts in the context of Egypt alone. He also brings credibility to this argument with the claim that it is generally accepted, and with the multiple references he includes (once again without explanation, in academic fashion). His use of casual language like “probably married” and “generally accepted” softens the severity of a father-daughter marriage in the eyes of a modern reader, casting a less shocking light on the concept (604). He continues with “Three alleged cases of father-daughter marriage which were accepted earlier, however, have now generally been discarded.” The choice to place this line afterwards, rather than saying that only one of four was still accepted, allows him to rhetorically emphasize the commonness of the practice while also sticking to the facts. His following explanation of the reasons for questioning those marriages continues to imply subjectivity and soften the blow of them not being “accepted.” Most importantly, he articulates that these marriages were “discarded” because the evidence supporting them is not entirely conclusive. Not a single judgement is made throughout other than to compare these instances to other Egyptian cultural elements, rhetorically representing an aversion to ethnocentrism.

Though the majority of writing in Egyptology is formal, the remainder in the informal sphere is equally rhetorical, but for different reasons. Informal writing about Egyptology most often appears in the news, such as in this very recent article by Nevine El-Aref about the legal status of Egyptian artifacts. Unlike the objective, value-judgement-proof academic articles just discussed, the rhetorical motivations here include pathos. The quote near the bottom of the article, “To think that some of these treasured artifacts were recovered from garages, exposed to the elements, is unimaginable,” is claerly meant to evoke an emotional response in the audience, and cause them to support one side of the argument. Unlike the avoidance of opinion seen in the academic articles, this is an affirmation of one view. Language like “treasured artifacts” and “unimaginable” clearly lean towards the repatriating party’s side, and this quote’s inclusion is rhetorically designed to draw on that implied ethical superiority. El-Aref’s article also exhibits an interest in brevity like in the academic articles, but likely for different rhetorical reasons. News articles, especially in the internet era, need to be brief so they can say what they have to say before it’s out of date. This very simple rhetorical consideration is nonetheless an example of rhetoric in writing about ancient Egypt. Another example of informal writing, equally recent, and with different rhetorical considerations, is Lucy Vernasco’s “Egyptian Scrolls Reveal Hangover Cure.” This article, published on the casual news website TheDailyBeast.com, has the least academic intentions of all the writing thus far considered. Her introduction actually moves in the complete opposite direction of the academics, supporting an ethnocentric view by describing quite literally the viewpoint of a modern reader. Of course, these tie-ins to modern life are the entire point of the article — if this discovery didn’t relate to the modern twenty-something party culture which includes heavily drinking, it wouldn't be on such a pop-culture-centric news outlet. Her rhetorical choices include frequent quippy jokes and lighthearted, not-too-technical explanations of the process by which this discovery was made, reflecting the level of academic investment she expects from her casual readers.

In the modern world of social media, however, those causal readers can also contribute to the rhetoric surrounding Egyptology. One user on Twitter cites the same discovery, writing “New Discovery: Ancient Egyptians wore laurel garlands to cure hangovers” before linking to an article on the subject and including the tags #Egyptology and #Discovery. The user, “@EgitalloydEgypt,” is a promoter of Egyptian vacations — a quality that influences the rhetorical choices in the tweet. The same cultural relevance applies as in the article on this subject, but this time it is used as a means to increase visibility of the services this user provides, increasing interest in Egypt in the eyes of potential clients. Tags like “#Egyptology” are an interesting rhetorical element unique to social media like twitter, as they represent the author’s interest in any readers who might be looking for information on Egyptology. If that tweet reflects the informal, externally-motivated news articles we explored, another example from user “@egyptologynews” is more representative of the formal articles. This tweet keeps the same brevity and focus on facts that we saw in those articles, and has a similar motivation of catering to scholars of the field. The article linked in this tweet is longer and more academic in nature than @EgitalloydEgypt’s, and the tags of “#history #egyptology #mummification” echo the interconnectedness and large number of references seen in the academic papers, connecting this tweet to other related, academic ideas and making it more accessible to someone doing research.

Though these pieces of writing are excellent sources for examining the rhetoric surrounding Egyptology, other media are equally rhetorical. The way in which most people today interact with Etyptology is through museums, and very few visitors to ancient Egypt exhibits consider the rhetorical choices that go into making a display. There are a few popular styles for displaying Egyptian artifacts, and each plays rhetorically with presentation to have different effects on viewers:

In these examples, we see the “immersion” approach to Egyptology exhibits. This method of display attempts, rhetorically, to accomplish similar goals as the formal articles we first discussed. By creating an environment that is alien to most visitor’s day-t0-day lives, these exhibits help to distance viewers from their own schema. Rhetorically, this represents the designer working to combat the aforementioned ethnocentric view that anthropologists believe destroys one’s appreciation for the artifacts. In fact, these designs do exactly the opposite, and help to immerse museum visitors into the egyptian world, which rhetorically reflects the emphasis on internal reference rather than external judgement that we saw in the formal papers.

In these exhibits, we see the exact opposite style, which also has rhetorical design which reflects other elements of Egyptology’s formal writing. The aim of these displays is to present the artifacts in a vacuum to the best degree possible. Like the immersion exhibits, this is rhetorically attempting to defeat the ethnocentric view modern visitors are prone to. By isolating the artifacts as much as possible from any sort of reality, viewers will, hopefully, only consider the artifacts themselves rather than bringing in schema and values from their lives. This isolation is not entirely intentional, as the cases protect the artifacts, but the design of the displays is decidedly barren to a degree that it seems to fit that purpose. Furthermore, this is representative of the interest in brevity and objectivity in Egyptology and Archaeology as a whole — isolating objects on plain color backgrounds simply gives the information you need and nothing else. In the top exhibit picture, items are marked with plaques describing each artifact or group of artifacts. Artifacts are organized into groups based either on the location they were discovered or the purpose they supposedly have. This is once again rhetorically representative of the interest in internal comparison we saw in the formal papers, and accomplishes it in a very different way than the immersion exhibits.

This clean presentation may be representative of the interests of an academic anthropological study, but it hardly reflects the reality of how anthropologists actually work. Though they are from an anthropological lab studying Nepal rather than ancient Egypt, the following pictures shed light into the workspaces anthropologists often occupy, and how the design of these spaces speaks rhetorically about their profession:

This is a desk in the Wake Forest anthropology labs, and it once again shows the kind of bare-bones rhetoric seen in formal articles and museum exhibits. The working implements consist simply of what is needed, there are no fancy frills. Though it is rhetorically significant, this lack of extra ameneties is also likely the result of low funding for the department, a reflection of the funding scramble many Egyptologists face today. The only unnecessary items in the room are Nepalese icons and images, which the anthropologists have chosen to include for a kind of self-facing rhetoric: these items remind them of their field studies, and therefore make the room more attached to those experiences to immerse them in their studies, as well as giving it a nostalgic quality and overtly indicating what kind of person works there.

In this image, the devilishly handsome Devin McIlvain demonstrates the visual rhetoric of dressing to impress. This technique makes him seem extremely interesting and handsome to his audience. The work space continues to have only necessities and mementos.

A Nepalese flag rounds out the room, continuing the nostalgia/immersion factor. It is the only flag in the world with that specific shape, making it very visually distinct and rhetorically lending a presence of “other-ness” to the room, displacing it from North Carolina and making it feel a bit more like Nepal, presumably to benefit researchers similarly to the images above the desk.

In the world of professional Egyptology, however, there are more tools at hand. One such powerful scientific tool is a carbon dating machine, which allows researchers to determine the age of any artifact through chemical means. The machine measures the ratios of different radioactive isotopes of Carbon, and by comparing them to soil samples from different time periods, can determine how long the Carbon in that item has been decaying. The machine simply asks researchers to insert a sample into it, and then it gives a value which translates to the age of the item. Becasue this is impossible for researchers to do with the faculties of their senses, carbon dating machines fall into the category of “inscription devices,” special tools which allow the creating of meaningful, rhetorical data that otherwise would be inaccessible. This device could also be considered a “black box,” an element of study that has passed beyond understanding: Though most researchers understand the concept behind carbon dating, they do not necessarily understand how the machine actually works. Knowing how isotopes can reflect time buried is one thing, but actually extracting that data is quite another. In the case of the carbon dating machine, the scientific advancement is so successful that those who use it are no longer required to understand it.

All of this digging up of graves and chemically testing samples may be for the advancement of scientific understanding, but it leaves loose ends. The ethical question of unearthing ancient, seremonial grave sites has, and always will be, a hot topic for Egyptologists. Grave-robbing is considered to be taboo in most cultures, so where do you draw the line? How old does a grave have to be before it can be opened under the guise of academia? In her article on the topic, Jasmine Day demonstrates some of the rhetorical strategies used to discuss these ethical issues. Her paper is incredibly different from the academic discussions at the beginning of our investigation, and is, at first, positively dripping with pathos. The early inclusion of a quote from poetry, a medium designed to evoke emotion, rhetorically identifies her argument as pathos-centered. This trend continues as the article begins with a personal account of feeling badly for the mummies and how they are treated, once again appealing to emotion. The alternative argument is, of course, that these artifacts are valuable for teaching us about our past. Unfortunately, the value of that knowledge, and the value of preserving the death wishes of the Egyptians, are both subjective. The pathos-driven rhetorical choices in this argument reflect this fact, since there is no better case to make. Section titles like “The Forgotten Stakeholders” imply that one side of the argument is the underdog, a position which draws sympathy from readers and is rhetorically designed to soften readers to Day’s position (31). There are also, however, academic elements which echo the professional articles: references are rarely explained, one again expecting readers to have enough investment to do further research — this may be an emotional argument, but it represents rhetorical techniques previously identified as academic. Counter-points are also presented in intelligent fashion: “Certainly, one may question how much Egyptology may be learned simply by seeing a mummy; my museum visitor interviewees could seldom specify exactly what they had learned by looking.” (32) The language in this line seems rhetorically designed to impress that it’s common sense to doubt the exhibition of mummies, coming back to the pathos/ethos center of the article, but it is immediately followed by a thoughtful examination of the arguments for keeping mummies, and ultimately settles on a view which is more open to different intepretations of the issue. The radically different adacemic rhetoric displayed in this article demonstrates the variety of rhetorical approaches applied to different issues in Egyptology.

Works Cited

Allen, R. “Agriculture And The Origins Of The State In Ancient Egypt.” Explorations in Economic History: 135–54. Science Direct. Web. 24 Apr. 2015.

Collection of Stone Tools. Digital image. Portugal Mundial. N.p., n.d. Web. 24 Apr. 2015.

Day, Jasmine. “’Thinking Makes It So’: Reflections on the Ethics of Displaying Egyptian Mummies.” ‘Thinking Makes It So’: Reflections on the Ethics of Displaying Egyptian Mummies. Ancient Egypt Society of Western Australia. Web. 30 Apr. 2015.

Egitalloyd Travel Eg (EgitalloydEgypt). “New Discovery: Ancient Egyptians wore laurel garlands to cure hangovers.” 30 April 2015, 1:14 a.m. Tweet.

Egyptian Exhibit in Buffalo Museum of Science. Digital image. Wikipedia. N.p., n.d. Web. 24 Apr. 2015.

Egyptologynews (egyptologynews). “Ancient Egyptian Mummy Determined to be Unborn Baby at 12–16 Weeks:” 30 May 2014, 11:09 a.m. Tweet.

El-Aref, Nevine. “Smuggled Treasures Repatriated to Egypt from the US — Ancient Egypt — Heritage — Ahram Online.” Smuggled Treasures Repatriated to Egypt from the US — Ancient Egypt — Heritage — Ahram Online. Ahram Online. Web. 30 Apr. 2015.

Middleton, Russell. “Brother-Sister and Father-Daughter Marriage in Ancient Egypt.” American Sociological Review: 603. JSTOR. Web. 30 Apr. 2015.

South- and East-Facing Cases. Digital image. The Collection. Johns Hopkins Archaeological Museum, n.d. Web. 24 Apr. 2015.

Stanley, Tim. Egyptian Exhibit in Buffalo Museum of Science. Digital image. Tim Stanley Photography. N.p., n.d. Web. 24 Apr. 2015.

Vernasco, Lucy. “Egyptian Scrolls Reveal Hangover Cure.” The Daily Beast. Newsweek/Daily Beast. Web. 30 Apr. 2015.

Wood, Rachel. “Explainer: What Is Radiocarbon Dating and How Does It Work?” The Conversation. Australian National University. Web. 30 Apr. 2015.