How Pharaohs Were Buried, What “Mummification” Really Did, and Why the Afterlife Was Treated Like a High-Security Journey

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The speaker starts from the common cliché: “Egypt is the land of pyramids; pharaohs were buried in pyramids.” Then they immediately say that, during their trip, they learned the opposite—“there are no pharaohs in pyramids,” possibly “never were,” and “never will be.”  That surprise becomes the hook for the real topic: where pharaohs were buried, and what the technology and belief-system of burial actually looked like.

Fact-check note: “Pharaohs were never buried in pyramids” is incorrect

Pyramids were characteristic royal tombs, especially for the Old Kingdom (and also in modified form in later periods). Encyclopaedia Britannica summarizes that pyramids were “the most characteristic tomb for kings of the Old Kingdom,” with royal mummies placed in burial chambers beneath or within pyramids (including the Great Pyramid built for Khufu). 

What did change is that by the New Kingdom, royal burials shifted to rock-cut tombs, especially in the Valley of the Kings, partly to reduce looting and for religious/architectural reasons. 

So the speaker’s “surprise” is best reinterpreted as: if you’re looking for intact royal burials, pyramids are rarely the place—most were robbed early; and later pharaohs weren’t buried in pyramids at all.

With that clarified, we can follow the speaker’s real emphasis: the New Kingdom royal burial system—the Valley of the Kings model—and the complex, time-consuming process that was supposed to make afterlife survival possible.

1) The premise: A pharaoh had the right to attempt the afterlife, but it wasn’t guaranteed

The speaker frames the pharaoh as a semi-divine figure—“a representative of the gods”—who has an inborn right to attempt to enter the afterlife, but not a guaranteed outcome.  In their telling, what matters is not just dying, but successfully completing a long chain of procedures and tests. This is where the speaker makes a playful analogy: the afterlife journey resembles taking a flight.

You don’t simply “go.” First you “buy a ticket”—meaning you pay for everything: the embalming, the burial equipment, the tomb, the labor, the ritual specialists.  Then you pass “security.” If you fail the checks, your journey ends immediately, in the harshest possible way.  Only if you pass do you get something like “approval from the gods,” and then—according to the speaker’s dramatic phrasing—something miraculous happens: the whole system recombines, the body “rises,” and the person goes to live with the gods. 

That is the emotional framing: high cost, strict procedure, and catastrophic failure if you get it wrong.

2) Mummification as a timed engineering project

Now the talk turns practical. The speaker admits they oversimplified in the picture they used and calls the depiction “a little incorrect,” but they walk through the core steps. 

They describe the body being “eviscerated”: internal organs are removed, the brain is extracted through the nose.  Then the organs are placed into four large jars.  The speaker pauses on a detail they find strange: you would expect scars from cutting the body open, but in their illustration there are none.  They then describe the next phase as “packing in salt,” “marinating,” or “pickling”—a humorous way to refer to dehydration and preservation.  After that, the body is wrapped in linen bandages and tied with cords so it doesn’t “fall apart.” 

At that point, the canopic jars (the organ jars) appear as part of the equipment, and then everything goes into a coffin system whose complexity depends on budget.  The speaker uses the “matryoshka” metaphor: nesting layers—coffin within coffin, box within box—scaling up with wealth.  They joke that at the top end you could have absurd numbers of layers, and at the basic end you’d have “one mummy, one coffin.” 

The talk emphasizes one detail again and again: the lid must have a mask that looks like the person inside. This is treated as not decoration but functional necessity, and the speaker promises to explain why later. 

They also add a practical observation: the illustration looks far too bright. In real conditions—tombs, embalming spaces, ancient workshops—the light would have been much dimmer, and the tools are not shown. 

Fact-check note: What Egyptology broadly agrees on here

Many parts of this description line up with standard accounts: organs removed, brain removal through the nose in many cases, dehydration using natron (a naturally occurring salt mixture), then wrapping. Museum educational materials describe natron drying as a key step and explain why organs were treated separately. 

The speaker’s comedic “marinating” is obviously informal, but it maps to the real aim: preserving tissue and preventing decay.

3) The canopic jars: what they are—and what they are 

not

The speaker shows real museum objects and uses the term “canopee”/“canopic” for the organ jars, noting they are decorated, often with inscriptions, and likely marked so the contents were not confused. 

Fact-check note: canopic jars held organs, protected by specific deities

In many periods, canopic jars were intended for the embalmed organs removed during mummification (commonly liver, lungs, stomach, intestines). The jars were placed under the protection of the Four Sons of Horus. The British Museum explicitly describes the mapping: Imsety (human-headed) for the liver, Hapy (baboon-headed) for the lungs, Duamutef (jackal-headed) for the stomach, and Qebehsenuef (falcon-headed) for the intestines. 

The speaker then broadens the point historically: Egypt lasted a very long time and had “three separate kingdoms” that differed significantly, so there are many variations in practice.  That’s broadly fair as a teaching simplification—Old, Middle, and New Kingdom are standard big “chapters,” though Egyptology also emphasizes Intermediate Periods and regional variation. 

They also make a social-economic point: in earlier periods, mummification might be more exclusive, but later it became available “on a self-financing basis” to anyone who could pay.  They mention cheaper, simplified burials for noble and artisans. They also mention enormous quantities of burials and even modern complications where land overlies mass cemeteries. 

4) The “parts of the soul”: why the mask matters, why food is buried, why the heart stays

Now the lecture reaches what the speaker calls the most interesting part: the soul. They openly admit the topic is “confusing,” and they are choosing one simplified story among many scholarly reconstructions. The important thing is not the number, but how the system is supposed to work.

They describe a life-spark that enters at birth (they say “at the moment of the first cry”) and exits at the last breath.  They say it’s often depicted as a bird, and it can leave the body—but it must not “forget” the body.  This is where the mask returns: the face on the coffin helps this mobile aspect recognize the correct body, so it can return. 

Then they connect this to grave goods and food: food is buried so that this mobile soul-aspect can feed during the journey; if you don’t provide it, it may fail to complete the passage, and the whole mummification operation becomes pointless.  The speaker’s logic is consistent: preservation alone doesn’t “save” you; it’s a support system for a multi-step metaphysical process.

Next, they introduce the pairing idea: something like “ka” and “ba” (they even joke you don’t need to memorize it) must reunite and inhabit a renewed form, producing a transformed being that can live among the gods. 

Then comes one of the most concrete ritual claims: the heart stays in the body. The speaker says it “lives in the heart,” so the heart is not removed, and that is why the heart remains inside the mummy. 

Fact-check note: the heart’s role is real, though the speaker’s wording is informal

Egyptian mortuary religion strongly associates the heart (ib) with moral and personal identity, and the heart is central to judgment scenes (weighing of the heart). In many mummifications, the heart was indeed left in place, unlike other organs, precisely because it was needed for judgment and integrity in the afterlife. 

The speaker adds another crucial “soul component”: the name. They say if the name is not spoken, the person is forgotten; that part dies, harmony breaks, and everything fails.  That leads into one of the most historically accurate observations in the whole talk: pharaohs carved their names everywhere, and the “cartouche” (they call it “kartush”) is the royal name ring you see repeatedly on monuments. 

Fact-check note: “Ren” (the name) really is treated as enduring, and erasing names mattered

In Egyptian thought, the ren (name) is commonly described as a vital component of personhood: preserving the name preserves identity; erasing it threatens continued existence. 

The speaker also says each pharaoh had two names: one at birth and one on accession to office. 

Fact-check note: Historically, royal titulary is even more complex: by many periods pharaohs used a set of five names/titles (the “fivefold titulary”), though in casual discussion people often focus on the birth name (nomen) and throne name (prenomen). 

So the speaker’s “two names” is a simplification, but it points in the correct direction: royal identity is formalized and repeated everywhere.

The talk briefly detours into a caution: don’t mix up which statue represents a living pharaoh and which represents the deceased—then later returns to that idea with an artistic “marker.” 

5) “Helpers,” weapons, and the fog of reconstruction

At this stage the speaker emphasizes uncertainty and interpretation. They remind us that much of Egyptian history is reconstructed from fragmentary evidence, and different archaeologists propose different coherent stories.  They’re offering one narrative that “hangs together,” not claiming absolute certainty. 

They mention that sometimes figurines were buried—possibly to serve the deceased—and there are “different opinions” about what exactly these figurines were and did.  They also say weapons (they mention a bow) could be buried with the king to help in the dangerous travel through the afterlife.  The speaker stresses that the journey is “a dark business,” not fully described, and then—almost humorously—says those details “ended quickly,” meaning the evidence gets thin or the story becomes hard to narrate confidently. 

They also make an aside about an attempted religious revolution—“they wanted to introduce monotheism and cancel the other gods”—and they mention the Amun-Ra temple context, then say “it didn’t last.” 

Fact-check note: Akhenaten’s “monotheism” is debated; “monolatry” is often a better label

Britannica notes that Akhenaten has sometimes been called the first monotheist, but the Aten religion “may best be described as monolatry” (worship of one god in preference to others), and evidence suggests traditional deities persisted in private practice. 

So the transcript’s claim is directionally reasonable (a radical attempt to elevate one deity), but “strict monotheism” is not the consensus framing.

6) The judgment scene: 42 judges, “negative confession,” and no retakes

Now we reach the dramatic centerpiece: the court of the dead. The speaker says the pharaoh journeys with Ra and arrives at the place of judgment.  In the picture they show, only a limited number of judges are drawn, but the speaker states the real number is 42. 

They explain that each judge governs a “zone of morality,” and the deceased must give what the speaker calls a “negative oath”—a denial list like “I did not do X, I did not do Y,” so he doesn’t get confused.  The speaker adds a grimly funny detail: since the pharaoh is “without brains” at this point (because the brain was removed), it would be hard for him to recite perfectly, so the system is “written down” for him.  They then state a key belief: written word equals spoken word—if it’s written, it counts as if it’s pronounced—so the pharaoh doesn’t even need to speak. 

Then the speaker makes the rules absolute: any judge can fail you; there are no retakes, no postponements, no appeals.  If you fail, you go immediately to a monster. They describe it as lion legs and a crocodile face and name it (their pronunciation sounds like “Ammit”).  They show a “cute” depiction first, then a “more realistic” one, emphasizing it is designed for efficient soul-destruction. 

Fact-check note: this matches well-known Book of the Dead traditions

Book of the Dead spell traditions (often associated with Spell 125) describe judgment, the “negative confession,” and the weighing of the heart.  The devourer Ammit (also spelled Ammut) is commonly described as a composite creature associated with destroying those who fail judgment. 

If the pharaoh passes the 42 assessors, the speaker says Anubis leads him to the next stage: the scales.  The speaker explains that what is weighed is the moral component associated with the heart (they again mention “ba,” loosely), against the feather of Ma’at.  If the heart is light—if he comes “with a light heart”—he succeeds. If not, the monster awaits again. 

This is the payoff of earlier details: why the heart remains, why morality is “in the heart,” and why the burial system is not just preservation but preparation for judgment.

7) What happens after success? The speaker’s honest boundary

At this point the speaker draws a line: after success, he joins the gods, but “no one knows” exactly what that existence is like in practical terms, or how the body reassembles from parts.  They even return to an earlier mystery: “so why were the jars needed?”—and answer with a shrug: “it was necessary; that’s how it had to be.” 

That moment is actually faithful to responsible lecturing: it keeps the firm parts firm (judgment ideology, burial equipment roles) and admits uncertainty where evidence and interpretation diverge.

8) A concrete example: the tomb of Ramesses V / Ramesses VI (KV9) and what it feels like inside

Now the talk returns from metaphysics to architecture. The speaker identifies a specific tomb: begun under Ramesses V, expanded/used by Ramesses VI, because Ramesses V died quickly and the next ruler continued it. 

Fact-check note: the basic identification is correct

Egypt’s Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities confirms the tomb was begun by Ramesses V and enlarged/used by Ramesses VI, and describes its decoration with major afterlife books (Book of Gates, Book of Caverns, Amduat, Book of the Dead, Books of the Heavens/Earth). 

The speaker adds a social detail: because building royal tombs was long, expensive labor, there was essentially a stable community of workers—“a whole village” where people lived for generations building these burials.  This aligns with what we know about specialized workmen communities like Deir el-Medina, associated with the Valley of the Kings region (though the transcript does not name it directly).

They describe the tomb itself as a long corridor—“100 to 150 meters”—and emphasize the impact: extremely colorful, densely painted, used as their “decor” backdrop. 

Fact-check note: the scale is in the right range

Published measurements for KV9 put total length around ~117 meters, consistent with the speaker’s 100–150 m estimate. 

The speaker describes the walls as “the most heavily decorated,” covered in texts: part biography, part quotations from multiple funerary books—“like seven books”—that describe gates the king must pass.  They compare the visual impact to the Sistine Chapel or St. Isaac’s Cathedral—not because it’s identical, but because it’s overwhelming and immersive, and because it’s astonishingly old. 

Then they address a practical question they obsessed over: how did artists work without electricity? The speaker says they looked for evidence: a “hole” cut into the rock, and they propose a two-person workflow—one holding a small lamp with a tiny wick and a reflector near the working area, the other painting.  They reason that a bigger flame would soot the ceiling, yet they did not see soot, so the lamp must have been carefully managed.  They label this explicitly as a hypothesis, partly their own. 

They also note the canonical wall-scenes: pharaoh presenting offerings to gods, gods welcoming him, and judgment motifs—standard tomb iconography. 

9) The speaker’s confusion about reading the texts—and a correction

In the transcript, the speaker admits something important: they did not find a clear explanation of exactly “what is written” on the walls, and they say there is “no single opinion” on whether it reads top-to-bottom, bottom-to-top, left-to-right, or right-to-left.  They also mention trying to show their own photographs to an AI and being told “this is an image,” which didn’t help them parse the writing.  They mention they have hundreds of photos (about 350) and didn’t want to dump them all into the presentation. 

Fact-check note: while layouts vary, there are standard rules for direction

Hieroglyphic texts can be written left-to-right, right-to-left, or in columns, but a standard reading rule is: read toward the faces of the people/animals. The Royal Ontario Museum explains this explicitly: “To read the hieroglyphs, read in the direction that moves toward their faces.”  The Fitzwilliam Museum teaching material similarly notes animals face the start of a passage. 

So it’s not that Egyptologists have “no idea”; it’s that tomb layouts can be complex and aesthetic, sometimes mixing directions in captions, which can feel confusing without training.

10) Looting, blasting, and the brutal reality of tomb history

At the end of the corridor, the speaker says, would have been the sarcophagus, inside a box-like setting; and at some point people broke in—“knocked, blasted”—searching for gold, perhaps found it, perhaps not; we don’t know.  This is historically in tune with what we know: even heavily protected royal tombs were frequently robbed.

The speaker then shows examples of sarcophagi and coffins (not necessarily the exact ones from that tomb) to illustrate what “1st class” burial equipment could look like—like Tutankhamun-level richness. 

They also add a visual “identifier” they believe applies to royal sculpture: when the pharaoh is shown alive, the beard is straight; when shown dead, it curves, so nobody mistakes the status. 

Fact-check note: this is a simplified rule and can be misleading as a universal diagnostic. Curved “divine” beards are associated with divine/Osirian aspects of kingship, but beard styles vary by period, medium, and artistic convention; it’s safer to treat the speaker’s claim as a personal “museum heuristic,” not a strict law.

11) The Valley of the Kings as an experience: crowds, timing, and landscape

Finally, the talk returns to the lived travel experience. The speaker places themselves on the “central alley” of the Valley of the Kings (near Luxor), describing the landscape as mostly mountains; if you don’t know where to look, tomb entrances can feel like small holes in rock.  They emphasize the crowds—“an insane number of people”—but say arriving at 7:00 a.m. helped them see at least one tomb with fewer visitors.  They identify the tomb they showcased as Ramesses VI (with Ramesses V having started it). 

Extra historical note (connected to the same tomb complex)

A scholarly architecture article notes that KV9 (Ramesses V/VI) was built above the area of Tutankhamun’s tomb (KV62), and debris from KV9’s excavation may have helped bury and conceal KV62’s entrance over time—one of the reasons Tutankhamun’s tomb remained hidden until 1922. 

This reinforces the speaker’s broader theme: Egyptian funerary landscapes are layered, reused, and reshaped by later construction, floods, debris, and human activity.

Closing

The speaker ends by saying: “That’s my whole story,” hoping they stayed on time.  The room responds warmly, thanks them for the presentation. 

And that’s the lecture in its essence: a modern trip that triggers a myth-busting moment (pyramids vs tomb reality), then a guided walk through mummification as a high-cost technical process, followed by the deeper reason behind the technology—Egyptian models of personhood (name, heart, mobile soul-aspects), and the judgment system that, in the speaker’s framing, allowed no second chances.