Professor Butter Beard and Akhenaten
“Truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a time, but it ain’t going away.” – Elvis Presley
“Daylight Savings Time” ended this weekend. The original idea of aligning waking hours to sunlight hours to conserve candles was first proposed in 1784 by the American renaissance hero Benjamin Franklin. In a satirical letter to the editor of “The Journal of Paris,” Franklin suggested that waking up earlier in the summer would economize on candle usage and provide considerable financial savings. Well Ben, here we are, 240 years later, debating the overall merits of such an idea with many politicians and scientists suggesting we disregard your wisdom and return to the centuries-old practice of universal “standard time.”
Historically, there have been many who have attempted to swerve humanity towards a new appreciation of the power and warmth of the sun. For me, Akhenaton is one of the most intriguing of these “influencers.” Centuries of Egyptian customs and styles of art were disrupted by the seventeen-year reign of Amenhotep IV, who took the name Akhenaten (“Beneficial to Aten”) in the fifth year of his reign.
“There is only one God,” he suddenly taught his people, “and that is the Sun, through whose rays all is created and all sustained. To Him alone you must pray.”
These changes concentrated the nation’s focus on the god Aten, whose name means “sun-disk,” and who had originally been seen as the visual manifestation of the god Ra. Aten was mentioned in the “Book of the Dead,” an important funerary text that was used from the early years of the New Kingdom. Almost overnight, Akhenaten replaced the plethora of deities in the Egyptian pantheon with one official, benevolent state deity, and placed himself as the sole intermediary – a revolutionary change in a society whose tradition of worshiping many deities extended back thousands of years.
The earliest, and visually most striking, expressions of Akhenaten’s new ideas appeared in the reliefs and statues he commissioned for his temple to Aten at Karnak. In a nod to centuries of Egyptian culture and art, a row of statues of the king faced the open court of the temple. The standing statues maintained recognizable sculptural traditions including crossed arms, royal insignia (the crook and flail), and ceremonial headwear and beard, but then things become a tad wonky.
First, Akhenaten is shown wearing his kilt, not traditionally clothed as a mummy. His extremely narrow face with its long Roman nose, full and fleshy lips, and elongated chin is set on a seductively lengthy neck and a pair of impressively broad shoulders. The shape of his torso, including a pair of fully rounded breasts, an overly narrow waist, a full abdomen that bulges over his waistband and surprisingly wide hips, continues to be the focus of scholarly debates.
One theory proposes that the king was displaying himself as both male and female, the human version of the androgynous creator Aten. A second theory is that Akhenaten suffered from Marfan syndrome. The illness’ symptoms do include features found on the depictions of the pharaoh and his family: slender bones, a long face, an elongated skull, spidery fingers and a wide pelvis, among others. If this is indeed the case, the repercussions would have been severe: Akhenaten and his offspring would have been susceptible to sudden death due to a weakened cardiovascular system and would have likely gone blind in adulthood. And a third theory, and don’t laugh, is that Akhenaten was actually an intergalactic traveler, sent to earth on an exploratory mission to investigate and influence humanity. Oh dear.
Ultimately, these changes didn’t please the Egyptians at all. They held on to their desire to have everything look as it had always done for thousands of years. As soon as Akhenaton was dead, his wife Nefertiti and successor (and possible son) Tutankhamun immediately dismantled all of Aten’s temples, resurrected the entire pantheon of Egyptian gods, and returned to the traditionally established styles of Egyptian art.
Fortunately, one glorious tidbit of Akhenaten philosophy did survive. The “Great Hymn to the Aten” was discovered in the tomb of Ay, one of Akhenaten's successors, though Egyptologists believe that it could have been composed by Akhenaten himself. The hymn celebrates the sun and daylight and recounts the dangers that abound when the sun sets. It tells of Aten as a sole god and the creator of all life, who recreates life every day at sunrise, and on whom everything on Earth depends, including the natural world, people's lives, and even trade and commerce. In one passage, the hymn declares: “O Sole God beside whom there is none! You made the earth as you wished, you alone. You are in my heart, and there is none who knows you except your son.”
The sun will now set much earlier in the evening. Candles will be lit, blankets will be found and fluffed, and coats and scarves will be necessary for moonlit walks with Nellie. Stews and soups and casseroles will re-appear, and dessert may include second helpings before snuggling deep into a down comforter covered bed. This weekend’s Herbed Lemon Drizzle Cake was created to capture the glow of Akhenaten’s sunshine with plenty of citrus bite and fresh herbs still thriving in my garden. It, like Ben and his daylight savings time, and Akhenaten and his “Aten,” remind us that the sun may hide for a bit, but like Elvis says, “it ain’t going away.”
Herbed Lemon Drizzle Bundt Cake
1 Delicious Bundt Cake
3 sticks (12 ounces) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 ¾ cup granulated sugar (plus more for the glaze and final dusting)
Grated zest of 4 lemons (save the lemons for the glaze)
4 Tbsp fresh rosemary or thyme leaves, finely chopped
1 tsp vanilla paste
6 large eggs, room temperature
2 2/3 cup all-purpose flour
5 tsp baking powder
½ tsp fine sea salt
1/3 cup buttermilk, room temperature
Glaze:
Juice of the 4 lemons
4-5 Tbsp granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla paste
A dash of fine sea salt
1) Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
2) Spray a lovely Bundt pan with cooking spray with flour and set aside.
3) In a standing mixer, beat the sugar together with the lemon zest and fresh herbs until the oils are fully distributed and the sugar looks a bit wet.
4) Add in the butter and vanilla paste and mix until very light and fluffy.
5) In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder and sea salt. Since there is a good amount of baking powder, you will want it evenly distributed. Set aside.
6) Add the eggs, one at a time, to the creamed butter/sugar mixture and beat well after each addition. Add the dry mix and beat until no dry streaks remain. Then fold in the buttermilk by hand.
7) Spoon the batter into the prepared bundt pan and bake on a center rack for 40-45 minutes, checking for doneness with a wooden skewer (if it comes out clean, the cake is done).
8) While the cake bakes, make your glaze: In a small saucepan, whisk together the lemon juice, sugar and salt. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Remove from the heat and pour into a glass measuring cup to have at the ready.
9) Once your cake has come out of the oven, let it cool in the pan for 10-12 minutes. Invert onto the cooling rack and poke holes into the cake with the wooden skewer. Spoon the glaze over the cake letting it fully seep into the cake. When finished, sprinkle the whole cake with a little granulated sugar.
10) If you desire, once the cake is cool, you could also top with a confectionary sugar glaze, but I don’t think this is necessary.
