“The syncretism did not imply the absorption of one deity by the other; nor did it imply the creation of yet another god.”

“Amun’s nature tended toward syncretism, and the name Amun-Re appeared on a stela erected by the governor Intef of Thebes before 2000 BCE. Amun’s growth was accelerated when Amenemhet I seized power in Thebes and founded the twelfth dynasty in 1991 BCE.

The hidden aspect of Amun enabled him to be easily syncretized and associated with other deities. Amun was identified with Montu and he soon replaced Montu as protector of Thebes. As the power of Thebes increased, Amun’s identification with Re became more pronounced. That identification was probably encouraged by the moving of Egypt’s capital from Thebes to Itjtawy, at the apex of the Nile Delta, under Amenemhet I… Amun and Re were thereby placed in closer contact, and a syncretism of the two would have been very astute, both theologically and politically. The syncretism did not imply the absorption of one deity by the other; nor did it imply the creation of yet another god. Amun and Re still remained as separate hypostatic deities, but their syncretism was an expression of the unity of divine power.”  – Vincent Arieh Tobin, The Ancient Gods Speak

In our third novel, there is a character who is an amalgamation of various divinities — a chimera of discarded parts, mainly from Egyptian gods, that forms what basically amounts to a griffin. In my attempts to fact-check the Narrator, I found this book. This quote, I think, captures how it is possible for him to be more than one god, yet have those gods still exist apart from him. Fascinating stuff.

-Gabs

 

BookTuber Tuesday – Jia Tolentino & Trick Mirror

“…And I’m like no, I’m going to answer for all my fucking stupid tweets.”

“You had to use that specific language adamantly, and if you didn’t, then you didn’t get hormones or any other kind of treatment.”

“She describes her move to transition, and he replies something along the lines of, ‘Well, thanks for telling me, and when did you make this decision?’ And she responds, ‘It was more of an erosion than a decision.’ I think of that as an example of trans affect, as ceding to a bodily movement, rather than, ‘Well, I’m going to decide to put on some different clothes tomorrow.’ It’s also notable because one of the things you’ll notice if you start reading a lot of trans memoirs, as I did, is up until probably the late 1990s they all sound the same. This is because there was, and still is, a lot of medical gatekeeping, where you have to present with this particular narrative of being ‘trapped in the wrong body’ for a long time. You also had to identify as heterosexual. You had to use that specific language adamantly, and if you didn’t, then you didn’t get hormones or any other kind of treatment. So in order to medically transition, people ended up telling these stories I think – probably as expected – internalizing them, even if they weren’t necessarily true to their experiences. So one of the ways I tried to intervene in my dissertation by reading for trans affect was to examine how there is still stuff going on in the confines of language that seems, on its surface, very limiting.” – Harlan Weaver, “Interspecies Intersectionalities,” Messy Eating

 

GABBLER RECOMMENDS: ‘What Ever Happened to Steampunk?’ by John Brownlee

‘“The elements of steampunk are all about exposing the inner workings of technology,” explains Jake von Slatt, proprietor of the Steampunk Workshop and perhaps the best known of the steampunk designers. “It’s about using design to make the working of technology scrutable through an object’s aesthetic. So many of the objects in today’s world are black boxes, and what happens inside them is totally invisible. So steampunk was all about revealing those inner workings, and empowering people to understand technology again, even if it was only fictitiously.”

In other words, steampunk is a bit of a power fantasy: not of the technologist, but of the maker, the tinkerer, the engineer. The guys who can rebuild an engine from scratch, but who are as powerless to fix the iPhone that they just dropped in the toilet as the rest of us.

The crunchy emo Victorian aesthetic of steampunk also worked against it, argues Beschizza. “The specificity of its look — it was often kitsch and self-referential — limited steampunk’s appeal to people with less esoteric interests,” he says. “And the younger generations of geeky, imaginative, expressive folk coming online in the 2010s interrogate culture more aggressively than earlier generations ever did. Steampunk had to contend with the historical truth of its own ironies, its fetishistic relationship to an age of imperialism, colonialism, and sexual and racial inequality. Like Lovecraft, it didn’t really come out the other side of that interrogation — we absorbed what was good and moved on to new old things.”

And what was good? Divorced of their gear-cog trappings, the best parts of steampunk live on as a wide-scale design and political movement known as Right to Repair. This movement, which is picking up steam among state legislatures (and vehemently opposed by major tech companies like Apple), is ostensibly about combating forced obsolescence and breaking the modern consumer electronic upgrade cycle, through legislation that forces companies to make their products repairable by the end user. In other words, it’s about empowerment and transparency: the right to understand the technology you depend upon.’

[Via]

I agree with Philip Pullman on something…

“I’m sorry that we, as a literary culture, seem to be losing faith in the omniscient narrator. People say, “Oh, I need to know who’s telling the story, otherwise I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know whether to believe it at all.” And another thing we see more and more of is the bloody present tense. I hate books written in the present tense! I refuse to read them. Actually, no, I don’t refuse to read them, because there have been some very fine books written in the present tense, and by design I might have used the present tense. But I think it’s kind of an abdication of narrative responsibility, because we know it’s not happening now, and she’s not coming downstairs now and looking out the window now. It’s already happened! It’s been written about and printed!

This pretense that it’s happening now is a silly thing which I can’t abide, and I use every opportunity to bore people to death by telling them about it.

Oh, I’m perfectly happy to be at the vulgar end. I’m with G. K. Chesterton on this. He said that literature was a luxury but fiction was a necessity. We can’t live without fiction, and I’m very happy to supply the thing that we can’t live without. If that puts me in the company of Dwayne (the Rock) Johnson and Lee Child, I don’t mind a bit.”

[Via]