DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27180#0123
THE LITTLE RED HOUSE
found recipes which go back to the Ptolemies and even
earlier. In popular superstition you still catch reflections of
the primeval belief in Osiris. When some years ago the
royal mummies once hidden in the rock-caves of Der-el-
Bahri were shipped here from Luxor, processions of mourners
formed on the river-banks and the people sang dirges.
Dreamy superstition can never reason; but if the Egyp-
tians imagine that they can fill up the holes in their instinctive
life by combating illiteracy they are about as wide of the
mark as the prohibitionists in America.
Champollion and his people did not rely on cold facts
when they discovered the ancient world in Egypt, but pur-
sued a dream which was distinguished from superstition by
the possibility it contained of an organic extension of the
sphere it affected. Mariette aimed at an Egypt for the
Egyptians, a dream which those who have profited by it
prefer to forget. The Egyptologists remain; it is questionable
whether the savants of to-day have preserved enough of the
spirit of the first pioneers.
We fell in with a couple of native intellectuals — quiet,
sympathetic people who disbelieved in catchwords, even in
the standardized hatred of England, and who refused to
accept Zaghlul. There seems to be a small self-contained
group with the most laudable intentions, but quite ineffectual;
one could discuss anything with them. Only when we came
to the pyramids of Gizeh did they fail to come up to
scratch; at that they retired behind conversational common-
places.
In Paris, where they have got everything, there is a
literature dealing with modern Egypt as well. We read two
of their novels with pleasure. One, the famous Goha, was
recommended by Octave Mirbeau who rightly praises the
truthfulness of the picture; it contains a thrilling scene where
the superstitious idiot clasps the statue of Isis, which he
believes is alive and threatening him. The other novel,
107
found recipes which go back to the Ptolemies and even
earlier. In popular superstition you still catch reflections of
the primeval belief in Osiris. When some years ago the
royal mummies once hidden in the rock-caves of Der-el-
Bahri were shipped here from Luxor, processions of mourners
formed on the river-banks and the people sang dirges.
Dreamy superstition can never reason; but if the Egyp-
tians imagine that they can fill up the holes in their instinctive
life by combating illiteracy they are about as wide of the
mark as the prohibitionists in America.
Champollion and his people did not rely on cold facts
when they discovered the ancient world in Egypt, but pur-
sued a dream which was distinguished from superstition by
the possibility it contained of an organic extension of the
sphere it affected. Mariette aimed at an Egypt for the
Egyptians, a dream which those who have profited by it
prefer to forget. The Egyptologists remain; it is questionable
whether the savants of to-day have preserved enough of the
spirit of the first pioneers.
We fell in with a couple of native intellectuals — quiet,
sympathetic people who disbelieved in catchwords, even in
the standardized hatred of England, and who refused to
accept Zaghlul. There seems to be a small self-contained
group with the most laudable intentions, but quite ineffectual;
one could discuss anything with them. Only when we came
to the pyramids of Gizeh did they fail to come up to
scratch; at that they retired behind conversational common-
places.
In Paris, where they have got everything, there is a
literature dealing with modern Egypt as well. We read two
of their novels with pleasure. One, the famous Goha, was
recommended by Octave Mirbeau who rightly praises the
truthfulness of the picture; it contains a thrilling scene where
the superstitious idiot clasps the statue of Isis, which he
believes is alive and threatening him. The other novel,
107