No ancient Egyptian word corresponds to the western notion of the ‘soul’. Nevertheless, let us examine the aspects of ancient Egyptian culture that fascinate the ignoramus—namely, the Ka and the Ba. Can we discern something similar in metals?
Oh, Lord! This really blows my mind. Actually, I’ve been promising myself my whole life that I’d look into it. But you’re right: the concept of the soul in ancient Egyptian culture is so sophisticated compared to the crude dichotomies I was raised with that, after reading about the characteristics of the Ba and the Ka, I forget them almost immediately.
Ad usum ignorami, for the benefit of the ignorant, the Ba was that part of an individual, divine or human, which was a manifestation of spiritual power and ability, as well as the sum total of an individual’s physical and spiritual attributes. The Ka can be compared to a totem. Ka—a word signifying, much like “genius,” both a generative force and a protective spirit—served as a common substance and a collective soul; it was called the “father of the fathers of the gods” to express that it was the substratum of all that exists. Ka is the life force that resides in nourishment. This occurred to me because Ptah was said to be the creator of the Ka, and Ptah could be considered the counterpart to the Greek Hephaestus, the blacksmith of Olympus.
Good! I see that, fortunately, the level of conversation is very down-to-earth, so I might even attempt to satisfy your curiosity. First, let me find a preface to that: “The Soul aspires to become a powerful light—like the powerful light of Ra—being itself a spark. The Soul aspires to become a divinity; thus, the light becomes part of the intellect and permeates the soul.” Thus, as we have seen—and will see further—we find in this definition of the soul something already familiar to the alchemist: the concept of the spark, or Sulfur, or Sun. We will explore this in greater depth when discussing the Enigma of the Three Salts.
I must infer that Ka and Ba—at least with regard to metals—are something more “earthly” than an ethereal spark.
You yourself have already provided a more earthly definition of the Ka and Ba by defining them as “substance.” An alchemist can only place the Ka and the Ba on a scale of Mercurius—ranging from Mercurius Sideribus (the spirit of the stars) to the Mercurius of the philosophers (that is, the one extracted by the alchemist). There is, however, a difference between the Egyptian Ptah and the Greek Hephaestus: Ptah creates the world with sound, whereas Hephaestus does so with the fire of Zeus, which he himself amplifies by striking his forges.
Is it truly a substantial difference, or just a subtle nuance?
Both functions are encrypted. In reality, a full understanding of Hephaestus is gained only when he is compared to Ptah, and vice versa. When we discuss the final alchemical cooking, you will understand the union and synergy between the two attributes.
From an alchemist’s perspective, are Ka and Ba part of a scale? A chain? A procession?
If we transpose the two terms Ka and Ba into the realm of alchemy, we can arbitrarily define them as part of a ladder—or perhaps a chain. And why not, even a procession. That is, of course, provided that—when transposed to the realm of metals—we wish to define them as scalar “densities” among the metallic Mercurii. On the other hand, however, the Egyptian concept of Ka and Ba could help us to grasp the nuances between one chain link and another. And if it is true that the actual link between one ring and the next lies in the point of contact between the two parts, then an alchemist might even surmise that one is the beginning of the other, or that it draws upon the substance of the first—however insubstantial—to give substance to the other. Now, don’t ask me which is the progenitor, because I have already forgotten the definitions of Ka and Ba.
To summarize: Ptah created many things through the heart-and-tongue process. Among these are the Ka—the “soul”—and other principles, as well as food offerings (essential for the life of the deceased in the afterlife), all brought into being through the spoken word (md.t). Life and death are apportioned with justice, implying that Ptah governs the destinies of the living. Ptah’s command creates not only what is physically tangible but also the dynamic principles of life. Translated into Alchemy, what might this heart-tongue process be?
Heh, heh… the heart-tongue process could be nothing less than Alchemy itself and its Great Work. While the “tongue” can almost be a “vibrational” contribution, the heart has always been a symbol of memory. In a section dedicated to memory, we shall see what alchemists mean by this term.
Death is a state of crisis during which the Ka leaves the body. The Ka rests. During this interval, the individual is neither alive nor dead. Before the Opening of the Mouth, the soul exists in the hypnosis of death. Prior to the ceremony, the god is nothing more than a lethargic paralytic, a sacred corpse. A process of death that can even apply to metal?
Certainly. We have already seen how much spirituality is involved in the act of dying—especially for a metal.
It appears that the Ka was an essential element in the creation of the so-called “divine statues”. Regarding the performative aspect of these statues, there was no doubt that they were inhabited by the divine essence; however, no source explicitly states that the Ka resides within the statue specifically constructed to house it. Do you find any parallels with the making of the Philosophers’ Stone?
Yes, I find many apparent parallels with the making of the Philosophers’ Stone. I have planned a final section on the definition of the Philosopher’s Stone; we can address that then. For the moment, I can only add that the Ka is considered as the spiritual reflection of an object, it is a spiritual reflection that possesses a concrete form.
To complete the thought: In the case of the divine, the Ka is infinite and “divisible,” since it could simultaneously animate multiple images of the same deity; however, there are no texts suggesting that, even when distributed among several “hosts,” this Ka was anything less than whole within each of them. Regarding divisibility—while the Neoplatonists made it a cornerstone of their philosophy—what can you tell me about this characteristic of the Ka from an alchemical perspective?
On an alchemical level, the divisibility of Mercurius immediately comes to mind—constantly divided, doubled, tripled, and reunited. I leave the rest to your intuition.
Let us now move on to the Ba. In Egyptian art, the Ba is often depicted as a human-headed bird. While its function and activities during the individual’s life are not all that clear, they are more certain for the period after death. During the day, the Ba of the deceased was thought to fly out of the tomb and up to heaven, where it could travel about the world. At night, in another context, it would descend with the sun-god into the subterranean realm of the dead, the netherworld, and journey there.
This immediately calls to mind the Spiritus Mundi—the Spirit of the World—which hovers through the upper atmosphere by day, propelled by the sun. At night, aided by the moon, it can descend to earth and penetrate even the most hidden recesses. The alchemical implications are extraordinary, as all alchemical operations rely on these very characteristics of the Spiritus Mundi—from the initial magnetization to the anticipation of the subsequent octave during the final cooking. Is this enough to equate the Ba of the ancient Egyptians with the varying densities of the Spiritus Mundi? In any case, one must admit it is an intriguing coincidence.
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