mardi 30 novembre 2010

Une visite guidée et illustrée de la Grande Pyramide, avec l’archéologue James Henry Breasted (XIXe-XXe s.)

L’orientaliste, archéologue et historien américain James Henry Breasted (1865-1935) fut nommé, en 1905, professeur d’égyptologie et d’histoire orientale à l’Université de Chicago. De 1919 à 1920, il a supervisé la première campagne archéologique entreprise par cet établissement en Égypte.
Avec l’aide financière de John D. Rockefeller Jr., il créa en 1919, dans cette même université, l’Institut Oriental.
Dans son ouvrage Egypt through the stereoscope : a journey through the land of the Pharaohs, 1905, il a agrémenté, en familier qu’il était du stéréoscope, sa relation de voyage avec des illustrations qui, transférées sur le papier, doivent se contenter de la simple juxtaposition des clichés jumeaux, le relief en moins. (cliquer sur les illustrations pour les agrandir)
Cette convergence du récit écrit ou parlé et de l’image permettait sans doute de mieux capter l’attention des auditeurs/lecteurs. Aujourd’hui, certes, on a fait mieux dans le genre. On peut toutefois se laisser porter par ce “diaporama” avant l’heure, en notant quelques observations techniques démontrant que, si James Henry Breasted devait être un professeur particulièrement talentueux, il n’en oubliait pas pour autant de rester archéologue.



Looking up the northeast corner of the Great Pyramid, where the tourists ascend :
“Here is the very embodiment and potentiality of that ancient state of which the Pharaoh was the soul. Think of the organization of men and means, of force and skilled labor required to quarry these 2,300,000 blocks, each weighing about two and a half tons, to transport them across the Nile and lift them to the rising courses of this ever-growing monster, till the cap-stone is 481 feet from the pavement. The base of the sea of stone which forms each face is 755 feet long, and the square which it forms on the ground includes a field of over thirteen acres. When you have walked around it you have gone over 3,000 feet, some three-fifths of a mile. And in spite of the fact that a rise of ground on the spot where the pyramid stands, did not permit the engineer, who laid out the ground plan, to see his stakes from one corner to the other, but forced him to measure up and then down again, the error in the length of the sides of this square base is but sixty-five one-hundredths of an inch ; and the error of angle at the corners is but one three-hundredth part of a degree (00°-00′-12″). This far exceeds the accuracy of such masses of masonry in modern times, for although it may be quite within his power, the modern engineer finds no occasion for producing such work. It is accurately oriented to the cardinal points.
But the structure before us is not the only witness to the amount and character of the labor put into it, for the engineers of the time have shot over the face of the bluff of the plain below, a mass of waste chips from the cutting and facing of these blocks, which equals fully half the bulk of the pyramid itself.
Perhaps you are saying to yourself that this masonry looks rather rough in exterior finish to be the product of skilled workmen. Quite true, but as you have doubtless surmised, this was not originally the final exterior finish. When completed the pyramid was sheathed from summit to base in magnificent casing masonry, so skilfully set that the joints were almost undiscernible. Vast smooth surfaces then greeted the eye from base to summit. Later on we shall see a very striking demonstration of the cunning with which this work on the casing was executed. It was still in place when the first Greek visitors beheld the pyramid and wrote of it. Occasional references through classic times, and after the Moslem conquest, show that the casing was still in place until the 13th century A. D. Then all mention of it ceases until the 16th century, when an Italian traveler refers to the pyramid in such a way as to show that the casing has now disappeared.
It was removed then some time between the 13th and the 16th century by the Moslem builders of Cairo, who used the blocks thus gained for building the mosques and tombs and houses there. (...) Thus the beautiful Saracen structures of Cairo grew up at the expense of this older monument of the country. Some of the casing blocks in the lower courses were covered up by the accumulations of detritus from above, and thus escaped the crow-bars of these Moslem vandals ; thus part of the lowermost course is still in position in the centre of the north side.
But this quarrying has cost this pyramid some 30 feet of its height, and 15 or 20 feet in the length of its sides.
Perhaps this loss is not so felt by the tourist as by the archaeologist, for the former finds compensation in the fact that he may now ascend the pyramid, which would have been quite impossible had not the smooth casing masonry been removed and the terraced courses below revealed. To be sure they do not form the most comfortable stair-case in the world, for as you will note by looking at the native nearest us, some of them are nearly shoulder high ; but by dint of sundry pulling in front and pushing from behind at the hands of the willing Arabs, we shall be able to make the ascent with plenty of stopping to rest, within a half hour.”


The entrance to the Great Pyramid, the sepulcher of Khufu (in north face), seen from below :
“Mounted upon the accumulated débris in the middle of the north face of the great pyramid, we are looking up at the opening. Is it possible, you are asking, that the Pharaohs thus advertised the entrances to their tombs and invited the tomb robber in this way to the place where he might gain access to the treasures of the interior ? The recollection of the now vanished casing will immediately answer this question. What we see here is but the wreck of the ancient opening, which, piercing the casing just fifty-five feet and seven inches above the pavement, was so cunningly closed by a single flat slab of stone let into the surface, that it was invisible from below. Add to this the fact that it was not in the middle of this face of the pyramid, but twenty-four feet east of the middle, and we shall understand how baffling it must have been for the tomb robbers.
Nevertheless, they somehow gained a knowledge of it, and the entrance was known in the time of Christ. In any case, Strabo speaks of a movable stone, which closed the entrance to the pyramid. This shows that it had already been robbed in antiquity, but it was later closed again and all knowledge of the entrance lost.

That movable stone gave access to a descending passage only three and a half feet wide by four feet high, and protected from the enormous pressure from above by a superimposed peak of huge blocks of limestone, which you see in the rough opening above us. This passage points to the pole-star, and descending, rapidly passes out of the superstructure of masonry into the native rock beneath, upon which the pyramid rests, and after 345 feet terminates in a “subterranean chamber” hewn out of the rocks below the pyramid. In the ceiling of this descending passage, ninety-two feet from the entrance, there begins an ascending passage, the lower end of which is cunningly closed by seventeen feet of plug blocks of granite.
After 122 feet this ascending passage branches into two : one horizontal, leading to a chamber of limestone in the axis of the pyramid ; the other still continuing to ascend, but expanding into a splendid hall, at the upper end of which, behind an ante-chamber, is the chamber in which the king was buried.
We shall presently stand at the upper end of this hall and look down, but before doing so, notice that dark hole in the masonry, partly stopped up with stones, on our extreme right. That hole is one of the best witnesses we possess to the skill with which the entrance here was closed, for the caliph el-Mamûn (813 to 833 A. D.), the son of the famous Harûn er-Rashid, whom we all know in the Arabian Nights, forced an entrance into the pyramid for the sake of the treasure, which it was supposed to contain ; and this hole is his forced passage. As might have been supposed, his workmen attacked the middle of this side, and they toiled for months, with the entrance passage just above their heads and a little to the east, till the sound of falling stones within the pyramid, led them toward the sound and they emerged upon the descending passage. But as the pyramid had been robbed they found nothing but the king's sarcophagus in the upper chamber, and to appease his disappointed followers the caliph was obliged to place some of his own treasure there, that they might find it and be satisfied.
We are now to take our position at the top of the “Great Hall”, and look down its entire length.”


Looking down the main passage leading to Khufu's sepulcher within the Great Pyramid :
“What a gloomy, forbidding place ! (...) One hundred and fifty-seven feet long and twenty-eight feet high is this wonderful hall, and the four natives with candles stationed along the descent may indicate its vast extent, as the last candle at the lower end glimmers in the distance. But it is very narrow in proportion to its length, for the side walls are only four cubits apart, that is, less than seven feet. The ramps on either side, upon which our natives are sitting, are each a cubit thick, leaving the width of the floor only two cubits, less than three and a half feet.
Overhead, beginning with the third course above the ramps, the courses project, each beyond the next lower one, for seven courses to the roof, lost in the gloom above. The projection of each of the seven courses is just a palm, so that the total projection of seven palms is exactly a cubit from either side. This makes the distance between the side walls at the roof two cubits ; that is, the roof, like the floor between the ramps, is just two cubits wide, a little over forty-one inches.
This gradual narrowing toward the roof is, of course, for safety, as the roof must support the enormous weight of the masonry above. Some of the blocks of the side walls are not accurately dressed on the exposed surface, but if you will closely examine the joints between the first and second courses above the ramps, you will see that the surfaces now in contact are set together so skilfully that the seam can only with difficulty be discovered. Indeed there are twenty ton blocks in this pyramid which are set together with a contact of one five-hundredth of an inch, an accuracy which not only surpasses the modern mason's straight edge, says Petrie, but quite equals that of the modern manufacturing optician. How many centuries of development must have been required to attain the skill to do work on such a grand scale, and at the same time with such exquisite nicety!
Up this superb hall the body of the king was borne on the day of burial, and those cuttings in the side walls just above the ramps, were probably for the reception of the timbers intended to facilitate the ascent.
The chamber behind us in which the body was to rest is not less remarkable than the grand hall down which we look  (...)”


Khufu's sarcophagus, broken by robbers, in the sepulcher-chamber of the Great Pyramid :
“Measure with your eye the huge granite blocks, as the white raiment of these two natives is outlined against them; and note the enormous slabs that form the floor. Over our heads are two hundred and fifty vertical feet of masonry threatening to crush in the roof. The great granite beams that form the roof above us are about twenty-seven feet long, four feet thick and some six feet high, as they lie on edge, and they weigh from fifty-two to fifty-four tons each. Yet an earthquake has so wrenched the masonry that every one of these beams, nine in number, is now broken short across, from one end of the chamber to the other ; but the biting grip of the enormous weight above still holds them in place.
In 1763, Mr. Davison, the British consul at Algiers, while examining the uppermost corner of the great hall outside, discovered a passage leading from that hall to a rough chamber over this, where we now stand. It was very low and was roofed with granite beams like those of the roof above us.
Col. Howard Vyse, while at work on the pyramid in 1839, was led to believe that there were similar chambers above that of Davison, and after hewing a passage upward from Davison's chamber he found no less than four more, making in all five of these chambers over us. It is evident that they are construction chambers, having no other function than to render the roof of the burial chamber safer by relieving it of some of the vast weight from above. The fifth or uppermost of them may be called a great success in this respect. It consists of a massive peak, like that over the entrance passage which we saw from the outside, built of limestone blocks, which receive and by their sideward thrust transfer from the roof to the side walls, the colossal weight to be borne. Petrie, however, thinks that there is no thrust, but that these great limestone beams extend far down into the masonry on each side of the chamber, and thus anchored in the masonry they cannot give way at the peak, but resist like cantilevers.
In any case, it will be seen how effective the crowning device is in thus supporting that solid mass above it of some 250 feet in height, so that the roof of the chamber, shattered as it is, has not fallen in, bringing down the whole complex above. But Petrie thinks that the time is coming when the roof beams at least must give way, and the chamber will then cave in over our heads. (...)
It is to-day nearly five thousand years since these walls reverberated to the fall of the last block into its place ; the whole history of the world has been enacted since that sound died away among these stones, and here we stand at the empty sarcophagus of King Khufu. As far as preserving the soul of the great king is concerned, all the wealth and power of a kingdom spent in putting his body into this eternal husk of masonry, have been in vain. But all unconsciously, by constructing this monument he brought forward a long stage upon their way, the developing arts, which were called in to aid in the creation of an indestructible mausoleum for his body; and for what Khufu thus accomplished we should remember him, not only in wonder, but also in gratitude.

Source  Scholarship.rice.edu

samedi 27 novembre 2010

“La troisième pyramide [de Guizeh] surpasse certainement les deux autres en beauté et régularité de la construction” (Samuel Manning - XIXe s.)


Excursion aux pyramides (dessin de l'auteur) 
Le description qu’a proposée Samuel Manning (1822-1881), dans son ouvrage The land of the Pharaohs. Egypt and Sinai, illustrated by pen and pencil, 1875, des pyramides de Guizeh vaut autant - voire plus - par ses illustrations que par son contenu narratif proprement dit.
On remarquera toutefois ce que l’auteur affirme, par mode de comparaison, de la qualité de la construction de chacune des trois pyramides majeures du plateau : c’est la troisième pyramide qui vient en tête, devant - dans l’ordre - la plus grande, puis la seconde.
La Chambre de la Reine de la Grande Pyramide se voit, quant à elle, investie d’une fonction honorifique peu couramment admise : celle d’accueillir - en tout cas, ce n’est “pas improbable” - la momie du pharaon, dans la mesure où celle-ci n’a pu être déposée dans la chambre qui lui était destinée, pour cause de vindicte post mortem de la part du peuple censé avoir été opprimé par le souverain.

“Vast and imposing as are the Pyramids even at the present day, it is important to remember that we do not see them in their original condition. It has been said that “All things dread Time ; but Time itself dreads the Pyramids.” The destructive agency of man, however, has effected what mere natural decay was powerless to accomplish. The huge masses of masonry are indeed proof against the assaults alike of man and of time. But as originally constructed, they offered not the rough and broken outline up which we now climb, but a smooth and polished surface, perhaps covered with hieroglyphics. For centuries they furnished quarries out of which modern Egyptians have built their cities. Though their beauty has been thus destroyed, their bulk is not perceptibly diminished.
Abd-el-Latif, an Arab physician, writing in the twelfth century, when the casing stones were yet in their places, says : “The most admirable particular of the whole is the extreme nicety with which these stones have been prepared and adjusted. Their adjustment is so precise that not even a needle or a hair can be inserted between any two of them. They are joined by a cement laid on to the thickness of a sheet of paper. These stones are covered with writing in that secret character whose import is at this day wholly unknown. These inscriptions are so multitudinous, that if only those which are seen on the surface of these two Pyramids were copied upon paper, more than ten thousand books would be filled with them.”
One of these inscriptions is said by Herodotus to have recorded that sixteen hundred talents of silver were expended in purchasing radishes, onions, and garlic for the workmen ; reminding us of the complaint of the Israelites : “We remember the fish, which we did eat in Egypt freely ; the cucumbers, and the melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the garlic.”
If, as we stand upon the plateau of Gizeh, now covered with mounds of ruin and débris, we would picture to ourselves the scene which it presented in the time of the Pharaohs, we must conceive of the three pyramids as huge masses of highly-polished granite, the area around them covered with pyramids and temples, amongst which the Sphinx rose in solemn, awful grandeur to a height of a hundred feet. What is now a silent waste of desert sand would be thronged with multitudes of priests, and nobles, and soldiers, in all the pomp and splendour with which the monuments make us familiar, while just below us, stretching along the Nile, the palaces of Memphis glittered in the sun. (...)

Chambre de la Reine et Chambre du Roi
The pyramid itself [the Great Pyramid] contains two chambers, which have received the appellation of the King's and Queen's. The latter is lined with slabs of polished stone, very carefully finished, and artistically roofed with blocks leaning against each other to resist the pressure of the mass above. This apartment is reached by a sloping passage, which terminates in a gallery or hall twenty-eight feet high. From the entrance of the gallery a horizontal passage, one hundred and nine feet long, leads to the “queen's chamber”, which measures seventeen feet (north and south) by eighteen wide, and is twenty feet high to the top of the inclined blocks.The gallery continues to ascend till it reaches a sort of vestibule, which leads to the “king's chamber”. This chamber is finished with as much care as the other, and measures thirty-four feet by seventeen, and nineteen in height. The north and south walls are pierced by two shafts or tubes, about eight inches square, slanting up through the entire fabric to the exterior of the pyramid.
The “king's chamber” contained a red granite sarcophagus without a lid ; it was empty, and had neither sculpture nor inscription of any kind. The door was guarded by a succession of four heavy stone portcullises, intended to be let down after the body was deposited, and impenetrably
seal up the access.
The roof of the chamber is flat ; and, in order to take off the weight above, five spaces, or entresols, have been left in the structure. On the wall of one of these garrets, never intended to be entered, General Vyse discovered, in 1836, what had been searched for in every other part of the pyramid in vain. Drawn in red ochre, apparently as quarry marks on the stones previously to their insertion, are several hieroglyphic characters, among which is seen the oval ring which encircles the royal titles, and within it a name which had already been noticed on an adjoining tomb. On the latter it was read Shufu or Chufu, a word sufficiently near, in the Egyptian pronunciation, to Cheops, whom Herodotus gives as the founder of the largest pyramid.

Le puits
One of the most singular features in this pyramid is a perpendicular shaft descending from the gallery in front of the “queen's chamber” down to the entrance passage underground, a depth of 155 feet. The workmanship shows that this well was sunk through the masonry after the completion of the pyramid, in all probability as an outlet for the masons, after barring the sloping ascent with a mass of granite on the inside, which long concealed its existence. The lower opening of the well was closed with a similar stone ; the builders then withdrawing by the northern entrance, which was both barricaded and concealed under, the casing, left the interior, as they supposed, inaccessible to man.

Où fut déposée la momie de Khéops ? Probablement dans la Chambre de la Reine.
These extraordinary precautions go to confirm the tradition related by Herodotus, that Cheops was not buried in the vault he had prepared, but secretly in some safer retreat, on account of violence apprehended from the people. As no other pyramid is known to contain an upper room, it seems not improbable that the “queen's chamber” was the refuge where his mummy lay concealed while the vault was broken open and searched in vain.

Construction par accrétion
Lepsius has shown that the Pyramids were constructed by degrees. The vault was excavated, and a course of masonry laid over it, in the first year of the king's reign. If he died before a second was constructed, the corpse was interred, and the pyramid built up solid above. With every year of the king's life an addition was made to the base as well as to the superstructure, so that the years of the reign might have been numbered by the accretions, as the age of a tree by its annual rings. When the last year came, the steps were filled out to a plain surface, the casing put on, and the royal corpse conveyed through the slanting passage to its resting-place.

Seconde pyramide
The Second Pyramid stands about 500 feet to the south-west of the First, and is so placed that the diagonals of both are in a right line. It is somewhat smaller, but stands on higher ground. The construction is similar to the other, save that no chamber has been discovered above ground. It
was surrounded by a pavement, through which a second entrance, in front of the northern face, descends deep into the rock, and then rises again to meet the usual passage from the regular opening in the face of the pyramid.
From the point of junction a horizontal passage leads to a vault, now called by the name of Belzoni ; it measures forty-six feet by sixteen, and is twenty-two feet in height. It is entirely hewn in the rock, with the exception of the roof, which is formed of vast limestone blocks, leaning against each other and painted inside. When discovered, this vault contained a plain granite sarcophagus, without inscription, sunk into the floor. The lid was half destroyed, and it was full of rubbish. Some bones found in the interior turned out to be the remains of oxen ; but the sarcophagus was not large enough to admit more than a human mummy. Besides the large vault, Belzoni found a smaller one, eleven feet long, and a third, measuring thirty-four feet by ten, and eight feet five in height, but neither contained any sepulchral remains.
The general workmanship of this pyramid is inferior to that of the larger one. It retains its outer casing for about 150 feet from the top, and is, consequently, more difficult of ascent. (...)

Troisième pyramide
The Third or Red Pyramid - so called from the colour of the granite casing which covered the lower half, and has protected its base from diminution - is described by the classical writers as the most sumptuous and magnificent of all. It certainly surpasses the other two in beauty and regularity of construction. It covers a suite of three subterranean chambers, reached as usual by a sloping passage from the northern face. The first is an anteroom twelve feet long, the walls panelled in white stucco. Its door was blocked by huge stones, and when these had been removed, three granite portcullises, in close succession, guarded the vault beyond. In this apartment, which measures forty-six feet by twelve, and is nearly under the apex of the pyramid, a sarcophagus had apparently been sunk, but none remained. The floor was covered with its fragments (as Perring supposed) in red granite ; and Bunsen ascribes the fracture to Egyptian violence. Others, however, imagine these fragments to be only the chippings made by the masons in fitting the portcullises. (...)


Le Sphinx
At the eastern edge of the platform of Gizeh stands the Great Sphinx, a fabulous monster, compounded of the bust of a man with the body and legs of a lion. This combination is supposed to symbolise the union of intellect and power required in a king. The conception originated apparently in Thebes, and seems as intimately connected with that city as the pyramid is with Memphis.
This gigantic monster is consequently some centuries later than the neighbouring Pyramids.”

vendredi 26 novembre 2010

“Trois signes apocalyptiques s'érigent dans le ciel, trois triangles roses, réguliers comme les dessins de la géométrie” (Pierre Loti - XIXe-XXe s. - à propos des pyramides de Guizeh)

L’écrivain français Pierre Loti, né Louis Marie Julien Viaud, (1850-1923) a mené pendant quarante ans une carrière d’officier de marine, celle-ci l’ayant amené à parcourir le monde. Réputé pour avoir été “le plus grand écrivain exotique”, il a situé ses intrigues romanesques dans le cadre des pays visités, avec une nette préférence pour l’Orient.
De passage au Caire, il s’est rendu au site de Guizeh, qui lui a inspiré le premier chapitre - “Minuit d’hiver en face du Grand Sphinx” - de son ouvrage La Mort de Philae (1908). J’ai repris ici l’intégralité de ce texte.
La nuit venue donne aux pyramides et au Sphinx, selon l’appréciation de l’auteur, une tonalité chromatique uniformément rose, ce qui ne les rend pas pour autant plus familières, tant ces monuments, enveloppés d’une “secrète pensée”, peuvent susciter un “religieux effroi” et une “tristesse insoutenable”.
Ce regard à la fois poétique et philosophique nous écarte sans doute de nos habituelles considérations plus techniques. Mais il a également, me semble-t-il, sa place dans le kaléidoscope des impressions et sentiments que l’on peut éprouver, parcourant le plateau de Guizeh, à la recherche de “l'introuvable pourquoi de la vie et de la mort”.

Pierre Loti le jour de sa réception à l'Académie française, le 7 avril 1892
(Wikimédia commons)
“Une nuit trop limpide, et de couleur inconnue à nos climats, dans un lieu d'aspect chimérique où le mystère plane. La lune, d'un argent qui brille trop et qui éblouit, éclaire un monde qui sans doute n'est plus le nôtre, car il ne ressemble à rien de ce que l'on a pu voir ailleurs sur terre ; un monde où tout est uniformément rose sous les étoiles de minuit et où se dressent, dans une immobilité spectrale, des symboles géants.
Est-ce une colline de sable qui monte devant nous? On ne sait, car cela n'a pour ainsi dire pas de contours ; plutôt cela donne l'impression d'une grande nuée rose, d'une grande vague d'eau à peine consistante, qui dans les temps se serait soulevée là, pour ensuite s'immobiliser à jamais... Une colossale effigie humaine, rose aussi, d'un rose sans nom et comme fuyant, émerge de cette sorte de houle momifiée, lève la tête, regarde avec ses yeux fixes, et sourit; pour être si grande, elle est irréelle probablement, projetée peut-être par quelque réflecteur caché dans la lune... Et, derrière le visage monstre, beaucoup plus en recul, au sommet de ces dunes imprécises et mollement ondulées, trois signes apocalyptiques s'érigent dans le ciel, trois triangles roses, réguliers comme les dessins de la géométrie, mais si énormes dans le lointain qu'ils font peur ; on les croirait lumineux par eux-mêmes, tant ils se détachent en rose clair sur le bleu sombre du vide étoilé, et l'invraisemblance de ce quasi-rayonnement intérieur les rend plus terribles.
Alentour, le désert; un coin du morne royaume des sables. Rien d'autre nulle part, que ces trois choses effarantes qui se tiennent là dressées, l'effigie humaine démesurément agrandie et les trois montagnes géométriques ; choses vaporeuses au premier abord comme des visions, avec cependant çà et là, dans les traits surtout de la grande figure muette, des nettetés d'ombre indiquant que cela existe, rigide et inébranlable, que c'est de la pierre éternelle.
Même si l'on n'était pas prévenu, aussitôt on devinerait, car c'est unique au monde, et l'imagerie de toutes les époques en a vulgarisé la connaissance : le Sphinx et les Pyramides ! Mais on n'attendait pas que ce fût si inquiétant... Et pourquoi est-ce rose, quand d'habitude la lune bleuit ce qu'elle éclaire ? On ne prévoyait pas non plus cette couleur-là - qui est cependant celle de tous les sables et de tous les granits de l'Égypte ou de l'Arabie. Et puis, des yeux de statue, on en avait vu par milliers, on savait bien qu'ils ne peuvent jamais être que des yeux fixes ; alors, pourquoi est-on surpris et glacé par l'immobilité de ce regard du Sphinx, en même temps que vous obsède le sourire de ses lèvres fermées qui semblent garder le mot de l'énigme suprême ?


“Dans une contemplation mystique de la lune”
Il fait froid, mais froid comme dans nos pays par les belles nuits de janvier, et une buée hivernale traîne au fond dès vallons de sable. À cela non plus, on ne s'attendait pas ; les nouveaux envahisseurs de ce pays ont apporté sans doute l'humidité de leur île brumeuse, en changeant le régime des eaux du vieux Nil pour rendre la terre plus mouillée et plus productive. Et ce froid inusité, ce brouillard, si léger qu'il soit encore, paraissent un indice de la fin des temps, font plus révolu et plus lointain tout ce passé, qui dort ici, en dessous, dans le dédale des souterrains hantés par mille momies.
Mais la brume, qui s'épaissit dans les régions basses à mesure que l'heure avance, hésite à monter jusqu'à la grande figure intimidante, l'enveloppe à peine d'une gaze très diaphane, qui est une gaze rose, puisque ici tout est rose.
Et le Sphinx, qui a vu se dérouler toute l'histoire du monde, assiste impassible au changement du climat de l'Égypte, reste abîmé dans une contemplation mystique de la lune, son amie depuis cinq mille ans.
Sur la molle coulée des dunes, il y a par places des pygmées humains qui s'agitent, ou se tiennent accroupis comme à l'affût ; si petits, si infimes ou si loin qu'ils soient, cette lune d'argent révèle leurs moindres attitudes, parce qu'ils ont des robes blanches et des manteaux noirs qui tranchent violemment avec la monotonie rose des sables ; parfois ils s'interpellent, en une langue aux aspirations dures, et puis se mettent à courir, sans bruit, pieds nus, le burnous envolé, pareils à des papillons de nuit.


L’ “intrusion” des touristes
Ils guettent les groupes de visiteurs, qui arrivent de temps à autre et ils s'accrochent à eux. Les grands symboles, depuis des siècles et des millénaires que l'on a cessé de les vénérer, n'ont cependant presque jamais été seuls, surtout par les nuits de pleine lune ; des hommes de toutes les races, de tous les temps sont venus rôder autour, vaguement attirés par leur énormité et leur mystère. À l'époque des Romains, ils étaient déjà des symboles au sens perdu, legs d'une antiquité fabuleuse, mais on venait curieusement les contempler ; des touristes en toge, en péplum, gravaient pour mémoire leur nom sur le granit des bases.
Les touristes qui arrivent cette nuit, et sur lesquels s'abattent les guides bédouins au noir manteau, portent casquette, ulster ou paletot fourré ; leur intrusion est ici comme une offense, mais hélas ! de tels visiteurs se multiplient chaque année davantage, car la grande ville toute voisine - qui sue l'or depuis que l'on essaye de lui acheter sa dignité et son âme - devient un lieu de rendez-vous et de fête pour les désœuvrés, les parvenus du monde entier.
Et ce désert du Sphinx, le modernisme commence à l'enserrer de toutes parts. Il est vrai, personne jusqu'à présent n'a osé le profaner en bâtissant dans le voisinage immédiat de la grande figure, dont la fixité et le dédain imposent peut-être encore. Mais, à une demi-lieue à peine, aboutit une route où circulent des fiacres, des tramways, où des automobiles de bonne marque viennent pousser leurs gracieux cris de canard ; et là, derrière la pyramide de Chéops, un  vaste hôtel s'est blotti, où fourmillent des snobs, des élégantes follement emplumées comme des Peaux-Rouges pour la danse du scalp ; des malades en quête d'air pur : jeunes Anglaises phtisiques, ou vieilles Anglaises simplement un peu gâteuses, traitant leurs rhumatismes par les vents secs.
Cette route, cet hôtel, ces gens, en passant on vient de les voir, aux feux des lampes électriques, et un orchestre qu'ils écoutaient vous a jeté la phrase inepte de quelque rengaine de café-concert ; mais, sitôt que tout cela, dans un repli du sol, a disparu, on s'en est senti tellement délivré, tellement loin ! Dès que l'on a commencé de marcher sur ce sable des siècles, où les pas tout à coup ne faisaient plus de bruit, rien n'a existé, hors le calme et le religieux effroi émanés de ce monde que l'on abordait, de ce monde si écrasant pour le nôtre , où tout apparaissait silencieux, imprécis, gigantesque et rose.


“Dans la pose d'un chien géant qui voudrait aboyer à la lune”
D'abord la pyramide de Chéops, dont il a fallu contourner de près les soubassements immuables ; la lune détaillait tous les blocs énormes, les blocs réguliers et pareils de ses assises qui se superposent à l'infini, toujours diminuant de largeur, et qui montent, montent en perspectives fuyantes, pour former là-haut la pointe du vertigineux triangle ; on l'eût dite éclairée, cette pyramide, par quelque triste aurore de fin de monde qui ne rosirait que les sables et les granits terrestres, en laissant plus effroyablement noir le ciel ponctué d'étoiles. Combien inconcevable pour nous, la mentalité de ce roi qui pendant un demi-siècle usa la vie de milliers et de milliers d'esclaves à construire ce tombeau, dans l'obsédant et fol espoir de prolonger sans fin la durée de sa momie !
La pyramide une fois dépassée, un peu de chemin restait à faire encore pour aller affronter le Sphinx au milieu de ce que nos contemporains lui ont laissé de son désert ; il y avait à descendre la pente de cette dune aux aspects de nuage, qui semblait feutrée comme à dessein pour maintenir en un tel lieu plus de silence. Et çà et là s'ouvrait quelque trou noir : soupirail du profond et inextricable royaume des momies, très peuplé encore, malgré l'acharnement des déterreurs.
Descendant toujours sur la coulée de sable, on n'a pas tardé à l'apercevoir, lui, le Sphinx, moitié colline et moitié bête couchée, Vous tournant le dos, dans la pose d'un chien géant qui voudrait aboyer à la lune ; sa tête se dressait en silhouette d'ombre, en écran contre la lumière qu'il paraissait regarder, et les pans de son bonnet lui faisaient des oreilles tombantes. Ensuite, à mesure que l'on cheminait, peu à peu, il s'est présenté de profil, sans nez, tout camus comme la mort, mais ayant déjà une expression, même vu de loin et par côté ; déjà dédaigneux avec son menton qui avance, et son sourire de grand mystère. Et, quand enfin on s'est trouvé devant le colossal visage, là bien en face - sans pourtant rencontrer son regard qui passe trop haut pour le nôtre -, on a subi l'immédiate obsession de tout ce que les hommes de jadis ont su emmagasiner et éterniser de secrète pensée derrière ce masque mutilé !

“L'introuvable pourquoi de la vie et de la mort”
En plein jour, non, il n'existe pour ainsi dire plus, leur grand Sphinx ; si détruit par le temps, par la main des iconoclastes, disloqué, tassé, rapetissé, il est inexpressif comme ces momies que l'on retrouve en miettes dans le sarcophage et qui ne font même plus grimace humaine. Mais, à la manière de tous les fantômes, c'est la nuit qu'il revit, sous les enchantements de la lune.
Pour les hommes de son temps, que représentait-il ? Le roi Aménemeth ? le Dieu-Soleil ? On ne sait trop. De toutes les images hiéroglyphiques, il reste la moins bien déchiffrée. Les insondables penseurs de l'Égypte symbolisaient tout en d'effrayantes figures de dieux, à l'usage du peuple non initié ; peut-être donc, après avoir tant médité dans l'ombre des temples, tant cherché l'introuvable pourquoi de la vie et de la mort, avaient-ils simplement voulu résumer par le sourire de ces lèvres fermées l'inanité de nos plus profondes conjectures humaines...
On dit qu'il fut jadis d'une surprenante beauté, le Sphinx, alors que des enduits, des peintures harmonisaient et avivaient son visage et qu'il trônait de tout son haut sur une sorte d'esplanade dallée de longues pierres. Mais était-il en ces temps-là plus souverain que cette nuit, dans sa décrépitude finale ? Presque enseveli par ces sables du désert Libyque, sous lesquels sa base ne se définit plus, il surgit à cette heure comme une apparition que rien de solide ne soutiendrait dans l'air.
Passé minuit. Par petits groupes, les touristes de ce soir viennent de disparaître pour regagner l'hôtel proche dont l'orchestre sans doute n'a pas fini de sévir, ou bien pour remonter en auto et engager, dans quelque cercle du Caire, une de ces parties de bridge où se complaisent de nos jours les intelligences vraiment supérieures ; les uns (esprits forts) s'en sont allés le verbe haut et le cigare au bec ; les autres, intimidés pourtant, baissaient la voix comme on fait d'instinct dans les temples. Les guides bédouins, qui tout à l'heure semblaient voltiger autour de la grande effigie comme des phalènes noires, ont aussi vidé la place, inquiets de ce froid qu'ils n'avaient jamais connu. La représentation pour cette fois est finie, et partout s'établit le silence.
Les tons roses commencent à pâlir sur le Sphinx et les Pyramides ; tout blêmit à vue d'oeil, dans le surnaturel décor, parce que la lune, s'élevant toujours, se fait plus argentine au milieu de la nuit plus glacée. Le brouillard d'hiver, qu'exhalent d'en bas les champs artificiellement mouillés, continue de monter, s'enhardit à envelopper le grand visage muet, lequel persiste à regarder cette lune morte et à lui adresser son même déconcertant sourire.
De moins en moins l'on croirait avoir devant soi un colosse réel, mais décidément rien que le reflet dilaté d'une chose qui serait ailleurs, dans un autre monde. Et derrière lui, au loin, les trois triangles-montagnes, qui s'embrument aussi, n'existent pas davantage, sont devenus pures visions d'Apocalypse.

Illustration B.Livadas and Coutsicos

Des espoirs vains à faire pitié
Or, peu à peu, voici qu'une tristesse insoutenable se dégage des trop larges yeux aux orbites vides, car, en ce moment, ce que le Sphinx a l'air de savoir depuis tant de siècles, comme ultime secret, mais de taire avec une mélancolique ironie, c'est que, dans la prodigieuse nécropole, là en dessous, tout le peuple des morts aurait été leurré, malgré la piété et les prières, le réveil n'ayant encore jamais sonné pour personne ; et c'est que la création d'une humanité pensante et souffrante n'aurait eu aucune raison raisonnable, et que nos pauvres espoirs seraient vains, mais vains à faire pitié !”

Source : Gallica