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Isis and the Secret Name of Ra
Isis tricked Seth into judging that a dead father’s property should pass to his son, then revealed that the case represented Osiris, Horus, and Seth. The divine tribunal was forced to consider whether Horus should inherit Osiris’s authority. Isis Secures Horus's Kingship Isis bribed Anty, the ferryman of the gods, to carry her to the Middle Island, where the divine tribunal had moved. The account appears in Papyrus Chester Beatty I, which sets out the dispute between Horus and Seth. Set had excluded Isis from the court. She changed herself into a beautiful young woman, and Set approached her secretly. She told him that her husband, a shepherd, had died and left her with a young son who cared for his father’s cattle. A stranger had then threatened to beat the boy, take the cattle, and drive him away. Isis asked Set whether he would help the son against the stranger. Set agreed that the father’s property should pass to his son, and that the stranger should not take it. Isis then revealed that the story concerned Set himself. Osiris was the dead father, Horus was the son, and Set was the stranger who had seized what belonged to another. Set had judged the same case that divided him from Horus. The gods therefore had to consider whether Horus should inherit Osiris’s authority. Source note: Primary text: the ancient sources. Corpus check: Egyptian Mythology. Isis Obtains the Secret Name of Ra Isis gathered saliva that had fallen from the ageing Ra and mixed it with clay. The episode is preserved in the Turin Magical Papyrus, in a spell concerning the secret name of Ra. Using her magic, Isis made a serpent and gave it life. She hid it beside the path that Ra followed on his daily journey through the Two Lands. When Ra passed by, the serpent bit him and disappeared. Its fire entered his body. Ra cried out, and the gods who travelled with him came to his aid. He could not cure the wound because the serpent was a creature he had not made. His children could not help him either. They could only mourn his suffering. Ra told Isis that a serpent had attacked him. His body was hotter than fire and colder than water. He trembled, sweated, and lost his sight. Isis approached him as if she were concerned and said that her spells could overcome the poison. She asked him to tell her his name, claiming that anyone who spoke their own name would live. Ra recited his creative deeds and his public names. He said that he was Khepera in the morning, Ra at noon, and Temu in the evening. Isis knew that these were not the hidden name she sought. As the poison grew worse, Ra disclosed the secret name. Isis used it in her magic, drove out the venom, and healed him. The name gave her power over the sun god. Isis Obtains the Secret Name of Ra. Original MythSource illustration created for this story; not a historical artwork. Source note: Primary text: the ancient sources. Corpus check: LEGENDS OF THE GODS; Egyptian Mythology. Isis Hides Horus from Seth After ten months of pregnancy, Isis gave birth to Horus in the papyrus marshes of Chemmis. The magical accounts of his childhood are preserved in sources such as the Metternich Stela. Seth had murdered Osiris, so Isis hid the infant from him and raised him to avenge his father. This child was called Horus the Child, or Horus, son of Isis, to distinguish him from Horus the Elder. Isis was sometimes forced to leave him while she searched for food. On one such occasion, she returned to find Horus too weak and ill to suckle. She mourned and said that her family were either in another realm or hostile to her. The marsh-dwellers shared her sorrow but could not help. A local wise woman then arrived, consoled Isis, and offered guidance. The magical accounts usually describe Horus as suffering from poison after the bite of an earth-dwelling snake. Seth is generally treated as the instigator, since sending a dangerous animal against an enemy was a recognised Egyptian curse. Isis called on Nut, her mother, and Geb, her father, who controlled the earth snakes. In other versions, she challenged the creator sun god to heal the innocent child. The creator sent one of his manifestations or attendant deities. Other gods protected Horus whenever Isis had to be absent, and the marsh inhabitants could take their place in literary spells. Through hiding, magic, and this protection, Isis kept Horus alive in Chemmis. He grew there as Horus the Child and later confronted Seth. Source note: Primary text: the ancient sources. Corpus check: Handbook of Egyptian Mythology.
Las Meninas: The Painting That Watches Back
Diego Velázquez painted Las Meninas in 1656 for the private office of King Philip IV of Spain. The large canvas depicts the royal studio, where figures turn to face an unseen visitor. Art historians continue to debate the central subjects of the composition and the exact nature of its mirrored reflection. Watch The Painting That Watches You Back from The Underdrawing. The Composition inside the Studio In 1656, Diego Velázquez composed Las Meninas inside the royal palace in Madrid. At the centre of the canvas stands the young Infanta Margarita Teresa, bathed in bright light. She is surrounded by her courtly entourage, including her two maids of honour, or meninas, who bend toward her attentively. Nearby stand her tutors, a page, a dwarf, and a large dog resting on the floor. On the far left of the room, Velázquez depicts himself standing before a huge canvas that looms upward. He holds a palette and brush, pauses in his work, and looks directly toward the viewer. The surrounding space presents the inner life of the Spanish court in an informal moment. Shadowed walls rise above the figures, decorated with large copies of paintings by Peter Paul Rubens that appear diminished in the dim upper half of the room. Nearly all the individuals shown in the composition correspond to documented historical personages, with the exception of one man standing quietly on the right side of the room. Together, these figures form a complex arrangement that presents court society in reverse order of traditional royal precedence, placing the young princess at the visual centre. The Ambiguity of the Mirror On the back wall of the studio, a small mirror draws the eye toward a glowing reflection of King Philip IV and Queen Mariana. A silhouetted courtier standing in an open doorway nearby draws attention to this mirrored image. Art historians have long debated what this mirror actually reflects within the scene. One reading holds that the monarch and his wife are standing in the physical position of the viewer, just outside the plane of the picture. In this view, the king and queen have entered the studio to visit their daughter and observe the artist at work, causing the servants and tutors to look up in acknowledgment. An alternative proposal suggests that the mirror reflects the image that Velázquez is currently painting onto the large canvas resting on his easel. However, scholars point out that no seventeenth-century double portraits of Philip IV and Mariana exist on such a massive scale. The gigantic proportions of the canvas inside the room are incompatible with any known royal portrait executed during this period. Because of these conflicting visual clues, art historians have never reached a definitive consensus regarding whether the mirror depicts the actual royal couple standing in the room or the canvas within the painting. Las Meninas 01. Public domain; source: Wikimedia Commons. The Royal Viewer and Spatial Design Las Meninas was created specifically to hang in the personal office and private summer quarters of Philip IV. Because access to these private rooms was restricted, the king served as the primary audience for the finished artwork. The spatial construction of the painting directly addresses this royal observer. When Philip IV stood in front of the canvas, he occupied the exact vantage point implied by the outward gazes of his painter, his daughter, and his court attendants. The artwork effectively replayed this studio scene for the monarch whenever he entered his personal chamber. This deliberate arrangement established a dynamic exchange between the king and the canvas. By stepping into his private office, Philip IV participated in the work both as the implied subject of the gaze and as the sovereign watching his household. The distant mirror transformed the royal couple into small pale shadows, yet their implied presence governed the actions of every person depicted in the studio. Modern museum visitors who stand before the painting in Madrid occupy this same vantage point, stepping into the physical position originally intended for the king. The Elevation of the Artist Beyond its narrative ambiguity, Las Meninas reflects Velázquez's effort to assert the dignity of his profession. Serving as first painter to the king and chamberlain of the royal palace, Velázquez possessed high administrative status at court. Throughout his career, he sought admission into the Order of Santiago, an ancient military order that required proof of noble lineage. Because he lacked sufficient nobility, he obtained membership only near the end of his life after securing a special dispensation from the pope. In the painting, Velázquez wears the red cross of the Order of Santiago prominently displayed on his doublet. Although court legend suggested that Philip IV added the red cross to the canvas himself after the artist died, evidence indicates that Velázquez painted the symbol onto his own chest two or three years after completing the picture. By depicting himself in the immediate presence of the royal family, Velázquez presented the painter as a figure of high social standing, echoing classical accounts of King Alexander the Great visiting the studio of the ancient painter Apelles. Brushwork and Visual Impression When examined at close range, the painted surface demonstrates Velázquez's economical technique. The fabric of the Infanta Margarita Teresa's silver and white sleeve breaks down into a series of loose, rapid brushstrokes and squiggles of paint. Because the painter stood close to the massive canvas while applying these rapid marks, he could not see the complete unified pattern from his position at the easel. The apparent chaos of strokes on the surface resolves into a convincing depiction of shimmering cloth only when observed from a distance. This contrast between close inspection and distant viewing demonstrates Velázquez's mastery over his medium. The artist captured a fleeting moment of daily studio life, holding still an ordinary passage of time rather than a dramatic historical event. Through his subtle handling of light, shadow, and perspective, Velázquez created a lasting representation of the Spanish court that continues to engage scholars and observers.
Odin and the Price of Wisdom
Odin hung for nine nights on the windswept tree, pierced by his own spear and given himself to himself, then took up the runes. The sacrifice on the tree Odin pierced himself with Gungnir and hung from a high bough of Yggdrasil, the windswept tree. He gave himself to Odin, himself to himself. The tree had roots whose paths no one knew. The wind battered him as he swung there for nine long days and nine long nights. No bread refreshed him, and no drink from a horn reached his lips. He allowed no one to ease his suffering. He peered downwards from the tree. Then he saw the runes, seized them, screamed, and fell back from the tree. Odin learnt nine mighty spells from the famous son of Bolthor, Bestla’s father. He also drank the precious mead from Odrerir. After this, he quickened, grew wise, prospered, and expanded his understanding. One word led him to another word, and one deed led him to another deed. He found the runes and their meaningful letters, the great and difficult signs that brought him supernatural knowledge. His spear wound, his hanging, his hunger, and his fall marked the price of what he gained from the tree. The sacrifice gave him the runes and the spells that followed from them. Source note: Primary text: Hávamál. Corpus check: Treasury of Norse Mythology; Price, The Viking Way. The surviving accounts or later readings differ on parts of this story; review the dispute notes in the source packet before approval. The eye and the head Odin lowered the Gjallarhorn into Mímir’s well and drank the water of wisdom. He had travelled through Jotunheim in the guise of a wanderer to seek that drink. Mímir guarded the well, which bubbled up from deep in the ground and fed Yggdrasil, the world-tree. He allowed nobody else to drink from it. Odin claimed kinship with Mímir through Bestla, his mother, but Mímir demanded a greater price. Odin gave one of his eyes for a single drink. The waters preserved the eye in the well, where it saw nothing and everything. Odin then bore the names Blindr, Hoarr, and Baleyg. When the war between the Aesir and the Vanir ended, the two peoples exchanged warriors and chiefs. Odin sent Mímir to Vanaheim as adviser to Hoenir, whom the Vanir accepted as their new chief. Hoenir looked like a king, and Mímir’s advice helped him make wise decisions. When Mímir left his side, Hoenir could not decide what to say or do. The Vanir grew angry. They cut off Mímir’s head and sent it back to Odin. Odin held the severed head in his arms. He rubbed it with herbs that kept it from rotting, then chanted charms over it. Mímir’s head regained the power of speech. From then on, Odin asked it for counsel, and the head gave him wisdom. At Ragnarök, Odin consulted Mímir’s speaking head again. The head remained linked to the wisdom of the well and to the fate of the gods. The eye and the head. Original MythSource illustration created for this story; not a historical artwork. Source note: Primary text: Ynglinga saga; Völuspá. Corpus check: Treasury of Norse Mythology; Teutonic Mythology: Gods and Goddesses of the Northland. The surviving accounts or later readings differ on parts of this story; review the dispute notes in the source packet before approval. The wager of heads Odin asked Frigg for advice because he wanted to visit Vafthrudnir and test his wisdom against the giant. Frigg urged him to stay in the courts of the gods. She knew no giant as powerful as Vafthrudnir. She wished Odin a safe journey and hoped that his mind would serve him well. Odin went against her advice, disguised as a poor wanderer, and entered the hall owned by Im’s father. Odin greeted Vafthrudnir and challenged him to prove whether he was wise or very wise. The giant accepted him as a guest. Odin answered the giant’s questions about the steeds of day and night, the river that marked the boundary between the countries of gods and giants, and the plain Vígríðr. He also answered other questions about ancient matters. Vafthrudnir did not hesitate when he answered Odin’s questions about the world, the giants, the wind, and what he remembered from the earliest times. After Odin had proved his knowledge, Vafthrudnir invited him to sit on the giant’s bench. They wagered their heads on their wisdom and questioned each other in turn. Vafthrudnir answered Odin’s questions, including how the frost giant had fathered children without joining with giantesses, and what the giant remembered from the time before the world was made. Odin continued until he asked what the giant had first said in Baldr’s ear before Baldr was carried to the pyre. Vafthrudnir then understood whom he had faced. No living man knew what Odin had said to his son. The giant admitted defeat, and Odin won the wager of heads. Source note: Primary text: Vafþrúðnismál.





