Though the 1922 discovery of the tomb (and remains) of King Tutankhamun gained worldwide attention, the 1939 discovery of Egypt’s most controversial pharaoh stands as the high-water mark of contemporary Egyptology. Indeed, the two most famous ancient-world discoveries are indelibly linked to the names Carter and Tuttle: Carter, shared the discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb with George Herbert, 5th Earl of Carnarvon. Tuttle, like the controversial pharaoh at the heart of his discovery, shares his honor—rather improbably—with three private detectives: Howard, Howard and Fine. Though we like to think of archaeology as embodying at least some element of Indiana Jones, we must face the fact that it’s more like shooting in the dark, and the swashbucklers aren’t really the ones who make the discoveries. It’s generally the diligent diggers (with aristocratic money backing them) or somewhat inept academes, stumbling across their discoveries because of three private detectives on something of an international missing-person’s case. Tuttle is famous for having set this precedent. Carter and Carnarvon are credited with discovering The Boy King. Tuttle’s singular honor lies in his discovery of the Dwarf King. Though dwarves—commonly associated with the god, Bes—were revered in ancient Egypt, only one Pharaoh seems to hold the distinction of existing as both a Pharaoh (the embodiment of a god) and a dwarf. His diminutive mummy is currently on display at Chicago’s Oriental Institute, already known for its extensive (and admittedly, rather gaudy) display of ancient world luminaries: a few of whom were entombed in delicate funerary constructs best (though inaccurately) described as ornately-painted papier-mâché . (How ironic to think that the afterlife as envisioned within ancient Egyptian cosmology would also include humidity-controlled containment facilities in Chicago.) Because of his controversial nature, King Rutintutin is relegated to the stranger pages of history. There is some speculation that the Arthur Phillips novel, The Egyptologist (Random House, 2004) is loosely based on the facts surrounding the apocryphal Dwarf Pharaoh, blended with various details inspired by the discovery of the Boy King as well. Because of the “apocryphal” nature of the Dwarf Pharaoh’s history, there is little information on this shadow-bound figure from ancient Egyptian History. * Okay…I have no idea where this came from, except for the fact that the faux-Egyptian sculpture depicted in this image is from an architectural feature in Chicago. I photographed it, last summer while wandering around, after work. To my dismay, it’s no longer there: the building that bore that particular adornment is now torn down. To my knowledge, there is no actual “Dwarf Pharaoh” in ancient Egyptian history, though one might argue that the average human height of the day would effectively identify all 3000+ year old humans as dwarves. The Pharoah in the written piece above was a part of the 1939 slapstick comedy sketch, We Want Our Mummy, featuring the Three Stooges. King Rootintootin, and his wife, Queen Hotsytotsy were…well…um…it’s the Three Stooges, what do you really expect? I kinda wish there was a King Rootin’tootin, however, or a Queen Hotsy’totsy; history would be so much more…um…colorful with them in it. (Oh, and The Egyptologist is a real work of fiction, centered on the discovery of an apocryphal pharaoh’s tomb, and Chicago’s Oriental Institute contains quite a number of rather bling-burdened mummies. The image, here, is an early test-version of the visual accompaniment for the story, “Four Jars of Honey”.) As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting…and one of these days, I might be able to catch up on all of the commenting I’ve missed.