The Colors of Wepwawet

Perhaps the biggest misconception about Wepwawet is that he is depicted as a white or grey jackal (or jackal-headed man), while Anubis is depicted as a black jackal (or jackal-headed man). Yet historically, Wepwawet and Anubis are both depicted as black jackals. I think the pervasiveness of this bit of misinformation comes from a desire to be able to clearly and easily differentiate between Wepy and Anubis. Convenient as it would be, a white/grey Wepwy just isn't true to his iconography. In the interest of clearing this up, I wanted to share something I saw on tumblr forever and a half ago, which was originally written by Bezenwepwy. This particular post reads:

"First off, I am going to point out that the late Terence DuQuesne, THE foremost expert on jackal deities, adamantly agreed with me that Wepwawet was not depicted as a grey or white jackal. Claims of such have very little basis in reality and for the most part seem to arise from some all too common oversights and misunderstandings.

The biggest of these misunderstandings seems to be the depictions of Wepwawet in the temple of Seti I in Abydos, where much of the relief retains colour except for Wepwawet’s head. But it is very important to stress that a colourless depiction does not equate to ‘white.’ It equates only to what it is. The overall lack of surviving black paint at that temple has been noted by scholars. From my reading, the fragility and poor adherence of the black seems to have been caused by a reaction between the pigment and the underlying plaster. This temple, along with others, were also subjected to archeological squeezes, conducted during a time when egyptologists didn’t really care that much about preservation. The poor survival rate of black pigment when it comes to temple reliefs isn’t just limited to Abydos either. And on those reliefs where the pigment on the face and/or body IS surviving? Yeah, it’s black.

The second major source of misunderstandings about Wepwawet’s colouration may come from the painted murals within tombs and decoration on funerary equipment. A) Tombs and sarcophagi do sometimes feature unusual colour schemes, so you might find green-skinned, yellow-skinned, or blue-skinned jackal deities. It tends to be consistent however, with no differentiation in colouration between Anubis, Duamutef, Wepwawet, etc, that I have noticed. B) Sometimes the pigment used as black in a particular tomb does now appear to be more grey, perhaps through degradation or just because it wasn’t painted on thickly enough or what-have-you. But that means that the grey is not really meant to be grey, it is meant to be black. There might be a grey Wepwawet, but other commonly black elements will also appear to be grey. This does not a grey Wepwawet make.

A friend of mine brought up a third point when she noticed there are more depictions of Anubis with surviving pigment than there are of Wepwawet. She felt this probably has an impact on people’s perception of what colour Wepwawet is, and I agree that it may very well do! It is, however, another case of not misinterpreting 'colourless’ for 'is coloured something other than black.’ He would have originally been painted black. An interesting thing about depictions of Wepwawet is they are quite commonly found in areas where there is a greater exposure to the elements (such as temples) — as opposed to Anubis, who is often is much more sheltered locations such as tombs or inner rooms. It is only logical that the pigment would survive better in areas of less exposure. And, as I’ve implied, black does also seem to be one of the first colours to go when it comes to temple reliefs.

I must also say that I have yet to find a single instance/location where Wepwawet and Anubis are actually painted different colours, let alone enough examples to declare it as an established pattern. (As I pointed out, unusual colour schemes can and do happen but they should be considered anomalies. Or a contextual variant if there are enough examples.) It is therefore deceptive at best to say 'Anubis is painted black while Wepwawet is painted grey.’ I appreciate that a lot people have gotten this idea from Wilkinson’s 'Complete Gods and Goddesses of Ancient Egypt’ and so I actually contacted him about it awhile back. He had this to say to me: “My comment on Wepwawet was based simply on my own experience - that a number of examples I have seen (inasmuch as it is possible to tell that W. is intended) seemed to be grey or not to be painted black when color was otherwise present. On the other hand, looking now at what I wrote, I think that the implication that this is "usually” the case is due to a poor choice of words on my part. I believe that what I meant was that while Anubis is usually shown as black, W. is sometimes depicted as grey (or without black). It is interesting if you have not found any examples of W. that differ so from Anubis - perhaps it is a rarer phenomenon than I realized.“ (Sadly, we were not able to get into more specifics at that time.)

I have addressed the lack of black and also the occasional appearance of 'greyness’ in those situations where it is serving as a substitute for black or else is suffering from degradation or transparency. It seems relevant to add that green can also degrade to a quite greyish look and is a not uncommon skin-tone in funerary contexts due to its colour symbolism. The thing about grey as a colour is it does not have its own individual symbolism in AE art. It classifies as black. So it doesn’t even make any sense, when colour is always used in such a highly symbolic way, for the Egyptians to have distinguished Wepwawet as being grey while Anubis is black. It also comes into conflict with the fact that since the Old Kingdom, the vast majority of jackals, be they gods, spirits, or even just hieroglyphs, are painted in black."

Are the Myths Real?

This is a question that pops up on Pagan forums and FB groups every now and then. I have seen it asked often enough that it inspired me to write this in response. However, before I can go on to answer this question, we first have to ask ourselves a slightly different one, and it is this: "Are the myths literal?"

The answer to which is a resounding "No." I do not believe for one moment that giant, one-eyed fomoire ran around Ireland battling the Tuatha Dé Danann, nor that a goddess in the night sky actually eats the sun every night and gives birth to it every morning. I do not think that treating the myths as literal is a legitimate means of validating them or our beliefs. In fact, I would go so far as to say that doing so can be outright harmful. One glance a creationist fundamentalist ought to be enough to tell you why.

"So if the myths aren't literal, then they're not real, right?"

Again, my answer would have to be "No."

"But Kaif, if they aren't literal, how can they be real?"

To help illustrate my point, I will take an example from one of my favorite new shows, "Vikings."

And before I continue, here is the obligatory

*SPOILER ALERT!!!*

Lagertha the Awesome

In "Vikings" there's this really awesome chick named Lagertha. In the first season, her husband becomes earl and, while out viking, leaves her to take care of their land. It is during this time that a man brings his wife and her baby boy before Lagertha, claiming that she has been unfaithful and that the baby is not his. He says that a young man named Rig had been staying with them at the time she conceived, and since he had so far been unable to impregnate his wife, it must have been the doing of this young stranger. The wife concedes that since the three of them shared a single bed, she couldn't say for certain which man had, in the dark of night, had sex with her.

In answer to this story, Lagertha explains that Rig is a name used by Heimdall in is travels, and that the couple were in fact visited by this god who then saw fit to gift them with a child. It is the myths she cites as the source of this knowledge.

"But those are just stories!" the man protests.

To which Lagertha responds, without missing a beat, "Our lives are just stories!"

Lagertha herself was pregnant at the time, and had much trouble conceiving her own child. Because of this, it could be argued that she didn't really believe what she said about the young man being Heimdall, that she only said it for the benefit of the wife and baby. But whether or not she believed her own words is beside the point. The fact of the matter is that this couple had been trying unsuccessfully for years to have a child, and now they have one. In a sense, all Lagertha was doing was telling this man to shut up and be grateful for the opportunity to finally be a father.

This is why Lagertha's assertion that "our lives are just stories" is so perfect. At that moment, the couple's story is that they have a child. Yet it is the story of the child's divine paternity that, even if not literally true, serves to highlight the reality that this previously childless couple now have a precious baby that needs to be taken care of, regardless of who actually sired him.

Myths are allegories, entertainment, lessons, and hyperbole, just like many of the stories we tell of ourselves, or the stories that will be told of us when we die. The myths themselves may not be literal, yet that doesn't make them untrue. The Cath Maighe Tuireadh illustrates the nature of the Déithe; Nut's birthing and consumption of the sun is a metaphor for day and night; the conflict between Ba'al and Mot are the cycles of rainfall and drought; the list of examples is endless.

So there you have my answer. The myths are just stories. Our lives are just stories. One is every bit as real as the other.