In What the River Knows, I included two historical figures who played a significant role in the 1880s, with the hope that they would provide a glimpse into the unsettling attitudes of non-Egyptians who held powerful offices in Egypt. Monsieur Gaston Maspero was a French Egyptologist who was the director general of excavations and antiquities for the Egyptian government. He allowed duplicates to leave the country, despite legislation that had restricted Egyptian artifacts from leaving its borders since 1835. This system, known as partage, greatly benefited museums and educational institutions that sponsored British archaeological projects because it paved the way for them to receive countless archaeological finds. For many Egyptians, it meant these finds were inaccessible—sometimes permanently. Infamously, Maspero established the sales room at the Egyptian Museum, allowing tourists to buy legitimate historical artifacts.
Sir Evelyn Baring, or Lord Cromer as he was later known, served as the controller general in Egypt, overseeing their finances and governance. His politics were appalling, particularly his belief in the Western world’s superiority over Egypt, and his insistence that Egyptians were not capable of governing themselves. His policies barred many Egyptians from receiving higher education, men and women alike. As for the latter, he sought to discredit female professionals at every turn. To me, he’s a villain, and he showed up in my book as one. I took liberties with his dialogue and his actions, but I hoped to portray the spirit of his unseemly arguments as accurately as possible, with as much care and sensitivity as possible, too.
Whit’s experience in the British militia was inspired by the real-life rescue attempt of General Charles Gordon in Khartoum, but for the sake of fiction I moved up the events surrounding his death by about three years. There are a variety of conflicting sources regarding his last days, but the general consensus was that he was able to evacuate some two thousand women, children, and sick or wounded soldiers out of Khartoum before his death. In Gordon, I fictionalized a softened, fatherlike figure for Whit, while in reality the man himself, sometimes romanticized as a martyr and saint in the eyes of the British, was complicated. But in the framework of this historical fantasy, he fit as a background character who had cared for Whit.
The 1880s were an exciting time for photography, and I hope you’ll forgive my including a Kodak. It was the first portable camera, allowing anyone to snap a picture with a click of a button, but wasn’t in widespread use until 1888—though the patent was filed in 1884!
My last note is on the spelling of colloquial Egyptian Arabic. There is no standard or uniform Romanized version, and as a result, spelling differs from region to region and in different time periods. For example, shokran, “thank you,” can also be spelled as shukran, depending on where you’re from. I ended up using the Egyptian Arabic spelling as it was taught to me by Egyptian friends and Egyptologists.
Incidentally, Egyptian Arabic differs wildly from that of other Arabic-speaking nations. It’s said that other countries have no trouble understanding Egyptian Arabic, which tends to be more informal, while an Egyptian might have trouble understanding Arabic from other Arab nations. The reason behind this is because most Arabic films and TV shows are filmed in Egypt, and as such, Egyptian Arabic is widely understood.
Acknowledgments
My fascination with Egypt started when I was a little girl. I devoured books on the subject, fiction and nonfiction alike. For years, I dreamed of visiting and getting lost in the city streets of Cairo and exploring ancient temples, and standing in front of the pyramids. When Inez drifted into my mind, dressed in black and pretending to be a widow, I just knew she was sailing to Egypt.
The rest, as they say, is history.
This book would have been impossible without the guidance, input, and help from so many, and I’m incredibly grateful for the support. To Sarah Landis, thank you so much for believing in this story, and for finding it the perfect home.
Eileen Rothschild, my wonderful editor, I’m so glad this book and I were in your thoughtful hands. Thank you for reading and reading and reading again. This story is so much stronger with your wisdom and insight. I still remember when I first told you about the tomb scene where Inez and Whit were trapped, while I walked up and down the grocery store parking lot. You heard my excitement and love for this story even then. Thank you for helping me bring this book to life.
An enormous thank you to the Wednesday Books team because there is so much that happens behind the scenes to bring a book to life and I’m so grateful for all that you do. To the marketing team: Brant Janeway and Lexi Neuville, (who made my day by emailing me her shocked reaction to the ending—sorry, not sorry, Lexi)! To Mary Moates (publicist), Melanie Sanders (production editor), Devan Norman (interior designer), thank you, thank you!! To Kerri Resnick, cover designer extraordinaire, you are a genius. To Lisa Bonvissuto, endlessly patient with all of my emails and questions. A huge thank you to Micaela Alcaino who illustrated the cover of my dreams!! I’m so thankful for you and our friendship, amiga!
In October 2021, my dream to visit Egypt came true. I had the incredible opportunity to travel to Egypt on a research trip for three weeks, taking care to see and eat what my characters would have eaten and seen. Whenever I could, I stayed in hotels or ate at restaurants that existed in 1884 (a dream come true). I’m indebted to Adel Abuelhagog and Egyptologist Nabil Reda’s guidance and patience as they answered question after question, taking me to one temple after another (and their favorite places to eat).
During my trip, I traveled on a dahabeeyah up the Nile for six days, and I’ll never forget the experience. A huge thank-you to the wonderful crew: Reis Ahmed, Adam, Hassan, Mahmood, Magarak, Hamdy, Husam, Mahmood, Ramadan, Asmaell, Shiku, and Mohammed. They taught me to sail, invited me into the kitchen, and sent me away with bags of spices and recipes. I’m forever grateful for the wonderful memories.
A heartfelt thanks to Egyptologist Dr. Chris Naunton, who read the manuscript and gave such incredible and valuable feedback. Thank you for sending me email after email filled with notes, suggestions, and pictures of mummies. Classicist Katherine Livingston’s insight into archaeology was fantastic. Thanks for the thorough reading and feedback, and the textbook recommendation!
To Kristin Dwyer, once again saving me on writing emotion, thank you. To Mimi Matthews, who read from a historical lens—thanks for reminding me Inez would need accessible buttons to get in and out of her dresses. Alexandra Bracken, a huge thank-you for reading and for your feedback, particularly on the magic system. You are so inspiring! Thanks to Natalie Faria and Jordan Gray for being such wonderful beta readers. Thanks to Kerri Maniscalco who spent an hour on the phone with me to help me brainstorm a particularly thorny scene.
To Rebecca Ross, my stoutest cheerleader, my first reader, drafting partner, and critique partner. This story will always make me think of you. Thanks for seeing the possibility from the first sentence, for coming with me to Egypt through the pages of this book. I’m so thankful we’re in this together. And now we’re editor/imprint sisters! [smiley face emoji]