Roger Luckhurst, The Mummy's Curse: The True History of a Dark Fantasy, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2012, 336pp; £18.99 hardbackIn The Mummy's Curse Roger Luckhurst explains why the funerary practices of a long-dead and geographically-distant civilisation came to exercise such a fascination in modern Britain. More precisely, he analyses the way in which Egyptian mummies almost always come trailing disaster in our popular culture. To do so he ranges broadly over a diverse array of cultural phenomena, from exhibitions to supernatural fiction to late-Victorian theosophy. He also pursues the most ephemeral of trails, tracking the circulation of rumours and club-room stories about the dire consequences that ensue for those who meddle with mummies. The most familiar of these curse narratives attached themselves to the Carter-Carnarvon excavation of the tomb of Tutankhamun in 1922-23, but as Luckhurst shows, such tales of mysterious illnesses and fatal accidents appear long before then.In the first section of this entertaining and thoughtful study Luckhurst outlines the stories that came to circulate around the tomb of Tutankhamun, and around some earlier mummies. The first of these is the 'unlucky mummy' in the British Museum, otherwise Acquisition 22542; this is actually a painted inner coffin lid from the mummy-case of a high-status individual, and was described by the Victorian Egyptologist Ernest Wallis Budge as that of the Priestess of Amen-Ra. Its magical powers first manifested themselves in 1868 at the expense of Thomas Douglas Murray, who was said to have lost an arm in a shooting accident in Egypt immediately after acquiring the unlucky artefact. (In fact he seems to have lost the arm the previous year; and he soldiered on until 1911, leading a relatively uneventful life, unless you count his role in introducing the Pekingese breed to England) In untangling the skein that leads from the actual life of Douglas Murray to the curse legend, Luckhurst introduces us to a complicated cast that includes the amateurs of the supernatural of the Ghost Club, H. Rider Haggard and his friend, the journalist Bertram Fletcher Robinson, and Wallis Budge himself. Luckhurst also trails the version of the mummy curse that came to follow Walter Herbert Ingram, whose 1885 Egyptian souvenir-buying (in this case the painted Coffin of Nesmin, now in the collection of the Rhode Island School of Design) resulted in his death at the hooves of an angry elephant. Again a gap exists between the verifiable facts and the far more lively curse tales that mutated over time to draw in, inter alia, a mummy's hand in the collection of the 'Ripley's Believe It Or Not' museum. While Luckhurst offers some provisional political readings of these curse stories at this juncture (e.g. in terms of their resonance with Britain's military presence in Egypt), he points out that the most interesting things about them is that they appear at all, that is to say that after a long period in which Egypt was more associated with the sublime or with popular antiquarianism, it came to be read in decidedly gothic terms; the stories are part of a more general 'curdling in the English cultural imagination about Egypt' (p83).In the succeeding chapters Luckhurst explores other aspects of the presence of ancient Egypt in modern Britain: commercial entertainments, official exhibitions, mummy fiction, and the late-Victorian revival of magic in the Order of the Golden Dawn and other mystical circles. The rich historical detail of these chapters is impressive, and Luckhurst moves smoothly from the Egyptian Avenue in Highgate Cemetery, to Cleopatra's Needle, to the forgotten novels of Andrew Haggard (brother of H. …