Hatshepsut, Speak to Me

by Ruth Whitman

Hatshepsut, Speak to Me, Ruth Whitman's eighth volume of poetry, is her most innovative and adventurous book. It is in the form of a conversation with Queen Hatshepsut, the only woman pharaoh in ancient Egypt, whose reign of more than twenty years was one of the most peaceful and artistically splendid eras in Egyptian history. As poet and pharaoh talk to each other, it becomes apparent that the two lives intersect remarkably across the centuries. Both must face problems of sexual identity, love, work, mothering, conflict, and loss.

An admirer of Hatshepsut for the past forty years, Whitman has spent the last five researching the pharaoh's life and surrounding culture, visiting Egypt twice in order to study the landscape along the Nile to contemplate Hatshepsut's monuments, particularly her spectacular three-tiered temple at Deir el Bahri in the Valley of the Kings. The result is a vibrant glimpse into two parallel lives, illustrating a unique relationship between two women separated by twenty-five centuries, and illuminating many of the issues relevant to every contemporary woman's experience.

Whitman goes beyond just telling Hatshepsut's story. She connects herself with the life of her subject, speaks to her, and learns from her. Hatshepsut, Speak to Me represents a culmination of Ruth Whitman's series of groundbreaking narrative poems written in the voices of other extraordinary women―Lizzie Borden, Tamsen Donner, Hanna Senesh, Anna Pavlova, and Isadora Duncan.

Genres: Poetry

96 pages, Hardcover

First published June 1, 1992

Reviews

[Richard Abbott · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hatshepsut, Speak to me, by Ruth Whitman, was an unexpected gift brought to me from America. I had not heard of the book before, but am delighted to have read it now. Unlike most of what I have read recently, it is a book of modern poetry rather than prose. However, it is not all modern, as Ruth blended translations and rewrites of New Kingdom Egyptian material along with new compositions in her own voice.

The result is a vivid and credible dialogue between the Ruth of today and the Hatshepsut of about 3500 years ago. The two women are seen to share a great deal in their experience of life, sexuality, loss, and managing the difficulties of being a woman in a role traditionally seen as male. Indeed, part of the poignancy of the conversation is simply that the two women could never actually meet in real life, and can only converse through the written word or glyph.

Hatshepsut’s life fades away in the textual record left to us from Egypt. This has given rise to a great deal of speculation about the transfer of power from her to Thutmose III. Ruth presents her as a perceptive nurturer of culture, not the conqueror of other lands that so many New Kingdom pharaohs sought to be. As such, despite the internal wealth of goods and knowledge she cultivated, in the end she was rejected by a martial faction within elite society. Her voice fades away into the still-surviving splendour of her memorial at Deir el-Bahri, along with the resting places and histories of those she loved. This book was also to be Ruth Whitman’s final one, so that both women leave us with the closing words of the book.

I personally thought the book was a great piece of imaginative exploration, and have no hesitation in giving it five stars. Having said that, I am aware that not everyone will enjoy it. It is poetry rather than prose, and although it spans the lives of both women it does not intend to tell a story which goes anywhere. Part of the connection between the two women is that their simple struggle to gain acceptance absorbed so much energy that their full potential could not be realised.

For those who like the human side of New Kingdom Egypt – inquisitive, sensitive and exploratory as opposed to assertive and combative – this could be a book for you.

[Iris · Rating 1 out of 5]

(Full disclosure: I did not finish this book)

This book gets one star from be because it is about a mummy. It does not get any more stars because the writer is unable to get any closeness to the mummy--not to the remains or to the person they used to be.

We only see Hatshepsut through the lens of culture and history surrounding her. Most of the poems are line-breaked facts about ancient Egypt and lists of names and legends that invite the reader to skim. It seems to suggest "I have read many more books about ancient Egyptian myth and culture than you have, are you jealous?" Hatshepsut was a fascinating figure, but the book dares not imagine her beyond hieroglyphs and myth, leaving us at a greater distance from her than when we began.