About Valley of the Kings — Lost Knowledge and Anomalies

The valley was supposed to be exhausted. Howard Carter's 1922 discovery of KV62 closed the dominant nineteenth- and twentieth-century narrative — the last royal tomb, found, the cycle complete, the Valley a tourist landscape with paint conservation as its main outstanding archaeological problem. And then 1995 happened, and 2006, and 2011: in the span of sixteen years, three new tombs were either rediscovered or newly opened in a wadi that for eighty-four years had been treated as fully catalogued. Kent Weeks's reopening of KV5 in 1995 turned a single antechamber into the largest tomb in the Valley by chamber count. Otto Schaden's team broke into KV63 in 2006 — the first new tomb identified inside the East Valley since Tutankhamun. The University of Basel team led by Susanne Bickel and Elina Paulin-Grothe found KV64 in January 2011 and announced it a year later. The excavation tally — empty for most of the twentieth century — moved three times in fifteen years. That is the rhythm a survey of "lost knowledge and anomalies" at the Valley has to start from. The Valley is not exhausted. It is partially documented. The phrase "we know what is in the Valley of the Kings" is precise about geography and imprecise about contents.

KV5 — the rediscovery that rewrote the inventory

KV5 was known to Carl Richard Lepsius's 1844 expedition and to James Burton in the 1820s; both recorded an entrance and a few accessible chambers. The tomb was then effectively lost — buried under flood debris and ignored by the major twentieth-century campaigns — until Kent Weeks of the American University in Cairo, working through the Theban Mapping Project, reopened it in the early 1990s and announced in 1995 that the tomb extended far beyond the small antechamber the early surveyors had recorded. Subsequent seasons mapped a branching plan unlike anything else in the Valley: a central T-shaped layout giving onto a sixteen-pillared hall, with corridors running off in multiple directions and side chambers opening from the corridors. The Theban Mapping Project's published reports document more than 130 chambers; some preliminary reports suggest 150 or more once the side passages are fully traced. Only about seven percent of the tomb had been cleared as of 2006, when Weeks published his second monograph. The rest remains under flood-deposited mud and rubble.

The tomb is the burial place of the sons of Ramesses II — a non-standard architectural program of a magnitude not previously documented in the Valley. The conventional New Kingdom royal-tomb plan is a single straight or jogged axis terminating in a burial chamber for one principal occupant. KV5 instead suggests a multi-occupant family complex on a scale that effectively makes it a small underground necropolis. Two named princes — Amunhirkhepeshef and Ramesses (the latter possibly the crown prince at the time of his death) — have been confirmed by inscription. The remainder of the chamber inventory awaits clearance and publication.

The rediscovery does specific work to the standing inventory. It demonstrates that flood damage in the eastern wadi has historically buried entire architectural programs in a way that visual survey could not detect. It shifts the Valley's ranking by chamber count from KV17 (Seti I, ninety-plus meters along axis) to KV5. And it implies — without proving — that other partially recorded but never-cleared tombs in the Valley may contain substantially more architecture than their early survey notes capture.

The methodological frame matters as much as the find. The Theban Mapping Project, founded by Weeks in 1978, was conceived as a comprehensive architectural and bibliographic survey of the Theban necropolis using systematic photogrammetry, 3D laser scanning, and archival reconstruction of nineteenth- and early twentieth-century records. The KV5 rediscovery emerged from the routine business of TMP's archival work — the team had identified KV5's Lepsius and Burton notations in their bibliography review and went looking for an entrance whose modern coordinates were uncertain. The lesson the project draws from this is that archival work and surface mapping are complementary techniques, and that the Valley's documentation history — fragmented across multiple national expeditions, partial publications, and lost field notebooks — has accumulated enough internal contradictions that comprehensive cross-referencing remains a productive activity.

KV63 — Schaden, 2006: a new room, not a new royal tomb

The Amenmesse Project, directed by Otto Schaden of the University of Memphis, was clearing the area in front of KV10 (Amenmesse) when it identified a depression in the bedrock that turned out to be the shaft of a previously unknown chamber. Schaden's team rediscovered the shaft in March 2005; the chamber-bearing entrance behind it was confirmed by early February 2006, announced by the Supreme Council of Antiquities on 8 February 2006, and fully entered later that month. It contained seven wooden coffins of mixed size and quality, approximately 28 large pottery and alabaster storage jars (~75 cm tall), and more than 175 kilograms of natron — the desiccant used in Egyptian mummification. None of the coffins contained a body. The seal impressions on the entrance and the proximity of the shaft to KV62 placed the deposit in the late Eighteenth Dynasty. The flood layer that sealed KV63 also sealed the entrance to KV62; the two were closed by the same event.

The early press cycle treated KV63 as a possible new royal tomb. The scholarly consensus that emerged from the 2006-2010 publications by Schaden's team and subsequent reanalysis by other Egyptologists is different and steadier: KV63 is an embalmer's cache associated with the burial of Tutankhamun — the same kind of deposit as KV54, the small pit found by Theodore Davis in 1907 that contained linen wrappings, embalming refuse, and floral collars now identified with the KV62 funeral. KV63's much larger inventory — coffins, jars, natron in working quantities — represents the working materials and possibly the discarded equipment from the embalming workshop that processed Tutankhamun's body. KV63 should not be described as a "lost royal tomb." It is the workshop deposit for a known royal tomb. That correction matters because the over-amplified initial framing has persisted in popular accounts long after the technical literature settled.

KV64 — Basel, 2011: the second-most-recent tomb in the Valley

On 25 January 2011, the University of Basel Kings' Valley Project, working under the direction of Susanne Bickel and Elina Paulin-Grothe, was installing a protective metal cover over the shaft of KV40 when team members noticed the cut edge of a previously unrecorded shaft about 1.8 meters north of KV40. Excavation through the 2011 and early 2012 seasons cleared the shaft and burial chamber. The tomb was officially designated KV64 and announced by the University of Basel on 15 January 2012. It is an Eighteenth-Dynasty rock-cut tomb that was cleared and reused in the Twenty-second Dynasty for the burial of Nehmes-Bastet, daughter of Nakhtef-Mut, a Chantress of Amun at the temple of Karnak. The reuse coffin and its inscriptions were intact; the original Eighteenth-Dynasty owner remains unidentified.

KV64 is a smaller find than KV5 or KV63 in absolute terms. It is significant in three respects. First, it is the first new tomb identified inside the Valley since KV63 — which is itself the first since KV62 in 1922. Second, it is the first Twenty-second-Dynasty intrusive royal-Valley burial of a non-royal woman to be recovered intact, providing direct material for the question of how the Valley was reused after the New Kingdom abandoned it. And third, it confirms — by the same logic as KV63 and KV5 — that the surface mapping of the Valley remains imperfect. Two adjacent tombs (KV40 and KV64) lay 1.8 meters apart on the bedrock; one has been recorded for decades and the other was found only when ground was disturbed for an unrelated conservation project. The implication for what else may lie within a few meters of recorded tombs is open.

The Reeves–Nefertiti hypothesis and the three-scan saga

In July 2015, Nicholas Reeves published a paper titled "The Burial of Nefertiti?" as Amarna Royal Tombs Project Occasional Paper No. 1. The paper is not a peer-reviewed journal article; it appeared as the first issue of an occasional series Reeves himself edits, and that distinction is load-bearing for what follows. Reeves's argument was based on high-resolution surface scans of the painted walls of the burial chamber of KV62 made by Factum Arte for the construction of the tomb's facsimile. Reeves identified what he interpreted as faint linear traces beneath the painted plaster — straight-line "ghosts" running near the corners of the burial chamber — and proposed that these were the outlines of two sealed-up doorways: one giving access to a small storage room on the western wall, the other to a continuation of the tomb's axis to the north. The northern continuation, in Reeves's reading, would terminate in an undisturbed earlier burial — Nefertiti's — for which Tutankhamun's chambers were originally a small annex.

The press cycle that followed was disproportionate to the underlying evidence. Within a few months of the paper's release, the Egyptian Ministry of Antiquities had authorized a ground-penetrating radar survey of KV62. The first scan was carried out in November 2015 by Hirokatsu Watanabe, a Japanese radar specialist working with Mamdouh Eldamaty, then Egypt's Minister of Antiquities. Watanabe's interpretation of the radargrams was positive: he reported indications of voids and possible organic material behind the north and west walls. Eldamaty announced the results publicly with stronger language than the underlying data warranted. The 2016 follow-up scan — commissioned by National Geographic and carried out by a different team using a different antenna configuration — produced no comparable returns. The two scans were therefore in direct conflict, and a third independent survey was commissioned to settle the question.

The third scan was carried out in February 2018 by a team from the Polytechnic University of Turin with Francesco Porcelli as project coordinator, alongside Luigi Sambuelli (lead author), Cesare Comina, Gianluca Catanzariti, Filippo Barsuglia, and Gianfranco Morelli, and using three GPR systems with overlapping frequency ranges from 150 megahertz to 3 gigahertz. The dense spatial sampling and triple-frequency comparison were specifically designed to discriminate between real subsurface anomalies and antenna artifacts — the most likely source of the discrepancy between the 2015 and 2016 scans. The team published the results in 2019 in the Journal of Cultural Heritage under the title "The third KV62 radar scan: Searching for hidden chambers adjacent to Tutankhamun's tomb." Their conclusion was unambiguous: there is no evidence of marked subsurface discontinuities consistent with the passage from natural rock to artificially constructed walls. The hypothesis of hidden chambers immediately adjacent to KV62 was, in their language, "not supported by the GPR data" with high confidence.

That is where the matter currently stands. A non-peer-reviewed 2015 architectural-trace argument; a positive 2015 radar reading that did not replicate; a 2016 negative reading; and a 2018 high-resolution triple-frequency scan that closed in null. The fact that the press cycle massively over-amplified the original Reeves hypothesis and under-reported the Porcelli null is itself part of the lost-knowledge story at the Valley. What is generally known about KV62 today, on the strength of three independent radar surveys, is that it has the dimensions it was excavated to have. The chambers do not extend. Reeves himself returned to the question in The Decorated North Wall in the Tomb of Tutankhamun (KV62) (the Burial of Nefertiti? II), ARTP Occasional Paper No. 3 (2019), reaffirming his architectural-traces argument; the technical consensus, on the strength of the 2018 GPR null, has not moved with him.

It is worth pausing on why the misalignment between the technical record and the popular record persisted as long as it did. The 2015 Watanabe reading was announced at a press conference in Cairo by the Egyptian Ministry of Antiquities; the 2018 Porcelli null was published in a specialist journal of cultural heritage with no corresponding public event. The 2015 reading was reported with strong language by global news organizations; the 2018 paper was covered competently but quietly by a smaller subset of those same outlets. The asymmetry is structural — positive results travel faster than null results, especially when the positive result attaches to a recognizable name and a high-profile location. The discipline that pushes back against this asymmetry, in the Valley specifically, is the reviewer culture of the technical journals and the quiet maintenance work of the Egyptological literature; the public record needs the same correction propagated.

The Hawass 2010 JAMA paper and the genetics question

In February 2010, the Journal of the American Medical Association published "Ancestry and Pathology in King Tutankhamun's Family" by Zahi Hawass and colleagues. The paper proposed a multi-generational genealogy for the late Eighteenth Dynasty based on short tandem repeat (STR) profiling of DNA extracted from royal mummies, supplemented by CT imaging of skeletal pathology. The headline claims were that the KV55 male — long contested in identification — was Tutankhamun's father, and that the so-called "Younger Lady" mummy from the KV35 cache was Tutankhamun's mother — both identifications resting on the same STR-profiling pipeline whose methodology has since been substantially critiqued — and that the two parents were full siblings. The paper further proposed, on the basis of skeletal evidence, that Tutankhamun had a left-foot deformity (Köhler disease II with associated bone necrosis) that would have required walking aids — a reading that aligned with the inventory of canes recovered from KV62.

The paper was widely reported as having identified Akhenaten as Tutankhamun's father, on the assumption that the KV55 male is Akhenaten. That assumption is independent of the genetic data and remains contested. The osteological literature on KV55 is divided: some specialists place the age at death at 35-45 years, others at 19-22, and the difference matters because Akhenaten's reign of approximately seventeen years requires an age range incompatible with the lower bracket. Corinne Duhig has argued — on osteological grounds independent of the JAMA paper — that the KV55 remains cannot be Akhenaten and are more plausibly Smenkhkare. The JAMA paper does not resolve this; its genetic profile establishes a parent-child relationship between KV55 and KV62, but it does not independently identify KV55.

The methodological critique of the 2010 paper has been substantial. The most serious concerns are: that the published data are STR profiles only, with the underlying ancient-DNA sequence and authentication data not made available; that the rate of post-mortem DNA degradation in Egyptian tomb conditions, while better than in tropical environments, is sufficient to make full STR recovery from samples of 3,300 years' age technically demanding and not routinely achievable in independent ancient-DNA laboratories; that the parameter choices in the kinship-analysis pipeline were oriented toward the published genealogy rather than left as open inferences; and that the contamination history of the mummies — handled by many people across decades, sometimes restored with tissue from external sources — complicates any aDNA reading. The honest position, and the one this page takes, is that the 2010 JAMA paper proposed a lineage; the lineage is not generally accepted as established; and statements that "Tutankhamun's father was Akhenaten" — which depend on both the JAMA result and the contested KV55 identification — are not safe.

The Royal Caches — what was salvaged, what was lost in the salvage

By the late Twentieth Dynasty, the priests of Amun were no longer able to protect the royal tombs of the Valley from systematic looting. The ancient response — recorded in the priestly dockets on the bandages of the rescued mummies — was to consolidate. New Kingdom royal mummies were unwrapped, rewrapped, sometimes recoffined, sometimes split between caches, and moved to two principal hiding places: TT320 (also designated DB320) at Deir el-Bahari, and the side chambers of KV35 (the tomb of Amenhotep II).

TT320 was officially "discovered" in 1881, but the technical history is more complicated. The Abd el-Rassul family of Qurna had been quietly working the cache from approximately 1871 onward, surfacing antiquities through the Luxor market for a decade before Maspero's investigation forced one of the brothers to disclose the location. When Émile Brugsch, sent by Maspero, reached the tomb on 6 July 1881, he ordered its full clearance in less than forty-eight hours — about fifty mummies and roughly six thousand objects were lifted, packed, and carried to a steamer for transport to the Bulaq Museum, with no in situ documentation, no plan of object positions, no photographic record of the assemblage as found. The "looted on discovery" framing requires care: the family's decade-long quiet exploitation of the cache and Brugsch's two-day undocumented clearance are two separate categories of damage, and both occurred. The first removed objects from the assemblage; the second removed the assemblage from any future possibility of contextual analysis.

The KV35 cache was reached by Victor Loret on 9 March 1898. The side chambers of the tomb of Amenhotep II contained nine royal mummies — Thutmose IV, Amenhotep III, Merneptah, Seti II, Siptah, Setnakhte, Ramesses IV, Ramesses V, and Ramesses VI — together with three unidentified mummies that subsequent scholarship has variously associated with Tiye (the "Elder Lady"; identification rests on the contested 2010 aDNA work), the "Younger Lady" (the JAMA-implicated mother of Tutankhamun), and an unidentified boy. Loret's clearance was substantially better documented than Brugsch's, but the second cache nonetheless reflects the same priestly project: a salvage operation conducted under duress, designed to keep the bodies safe at the cost of leaving their original burial assemblages in the wadi for the looters.

The composite picture is that nearly every royal mummy that survives from the New Kingdom survives because the Twenty-first-Dynasty priests moved it. The tomb assemblages that surrounded each of those mummies in the Valley do not survive. The lost knowledge is the original deposit context — the canopic jars, the funerary papyri, the equipment and the inscriptional record that the priests did not save because they could not save it. What was rescued was the body. What was lost, in most cases, was everything else.

The tomb-robbery papyri

The clearest single documentary record of the original looting cycle is preserved in a small group of hieratic papyri from the late Ramesside period: the Abbott Papyrus (British Museum EA 10221, dated to Year 16 of Ramesses IX), the Leopold II / Amherst Papyrus (Year 16 of Ramesses IX, now split between the Royal Museums of Art and History in Brussels and the Pierpont Morgan Library), and the Mayer Papyri A and B (held at the World Museum, Liverpool, dated to the Renaissance era beginning in Year 19 of Ramesses XI). These documents are the direct court records — interrogations, confessions, inspection reports — produced by the Theban administration as it worked through the systematic robbery of the royal necropoleis.

The Abbott Papyrus records the inspection commission sent into the necropolis to verify which tombs had been violated; it documents both the political dispute between Paser, mayor of the East Bank, and Pawero, mayor of the West Bank (whose officials were responsible for necropolis security), and the partial findings of the commission. The Leopold II / Amherst Papyrus contains the confession of eight men who broke into the tomb of the Seventeenth-Dynasty king Sobekemsaf II — including a startlingly detailed first-person account of melting the gold from the king's coffin and dividing the proceeds. The Mayer Papyri document later trials, including the robbery of the tomb of Ramesses VI. T. Eric Peet's 1920 and 1930 publications established the textual base; Kenneth Kitchen's 1983 transcription and 2012 translation in the Ramesside Inscriptions series have updated the philology. The papyri describe in concrete operational detail what the Twenty-first-Dynasty cache project was responding to, and they identify by name many of the very tombs whose surviving emptiness in the modern Valley is now a normalized feature of the site.

Deir el-Medina — the unpublished workmen's archive

Deir el-Medina is the workmen's village whose inhabitants built the New Kingdom royal tombs. The site has produced one of the densest documentary archives of any ancient settlement: roughly five thousand inscribed ostraca — limestone flakes and pottery sherds carrying hieratic text — covering letters, work assignments, court cases, tomb-construction logistics, doctor's notes, marital disputes, and absentee lists. Jaroslav Černý's Catalogue des Ostraca Hiératiques non Littéraires de Deir el Médineh (DFIFAO series, beginning with volume 3 in 1935 and continuing through 1970) published a substantial portion. The Bernard Bruyère excavation notebooks (Bruyère directed the IFAO campaigns at the site from 1922 onward) are partially published and partially still in archive. The current scholarly assessment — represented by the Leiden Deir el-Medina Database and the IFAO's own bibliographic work — is that thousands of ostraca remain unpublished, the bulk of them in the IFAO's Cairo collection.

The unpublished ostraca are not lost in the strong sense; they are inventoried, accessible to credentialed researchers, and slowly being processed. They are lost in the operational sense that the ground-truth record of how the royal tombs were actually built — by whom, on what schedule, with what disputes, under what supervisory chain — exists as a corpus that has not been read in full by any single scholar in living memory. Each new ostracon publication slightly revises some specific question in the operational history of the Valley. The aggregate revision available in the unpublished material has not yet been measured.

What the "curse" was, and what the data actually show

The "curse of the pharaohs" is the most durable popular narrative attached to the Valley, and it is also the one with the cleanest empirical answer. Mark R. Nelson's 2002 paper in the BMJ — "The mummy's curse: historical cohort study" — applied a retrospective cohort methodology to the question. Nelson identified 44 Westerners whom Howard Carter recorded as present in Egypt during the relevant exposure window between February 1923 and November 1926, and classified 25 of them as having had defined exposure to the tomb. The mean age at death of the exposed group was 70 years (standard deviation 12); the mean age at death of the unexposed comparison group was 75 years (standard deviation 13). The difference is not statistically significant (P = 0.87). Adjustment for the number of exposures, the timing of exposure, age, and sex produced no signal of additional risk for early death. Carter himself, the most heavily exposed individual in the cohort, died in 1939 at age 64 of Hodgkin's lymphoma — sixteen years after opening the tomb. Lord Carnarvon, the index case for the curse narrative, died of pneumonia and erysipelas secondary to an infected mosquito bite — a mortality cause that does not need a tomb to explain.

A 2003 letter in The Lancet proposing toxic mold (Aspergillus) as a possible mechanism has not been substantiated by spore counts or by the demographics of the cohort. The conclusion the literature supports is that there is no measurable curse signal in the survival data, and that the cultural durability of the curse claim is a function of the high public profile of Carnarvon's death, the press cycle of the 1920s, and the survivorship-bias illusion that early deaths are more memorable than late ones.

The Howard Carter archive — not a "lost notebook"

A claim that occasionally surfaces in the popular literature — that Carter kept a private "lost notebook" recording undeclared finds from KV62 — is a false premise. Carter's complete excavation records, including his diary, his object cards, his correspondence with Carnarvon, and Harry Burton's site photography, were transferred to the Griffith Institute at Oxford in 1946 and have been published in full online since the early 2000s under the project title Tutankhamun: Anatomy of an Excavation. The archive is searchable, indexed, and freely accessible. There are open questions about how much of the assemblage may have left the tomb informally during the early seasons; there is no missing notebook, and the archive's completeness has not been seriously contested by historians of the excavation.

The Western Valley — less visited, not unexplored

A second recurring popular framing — that the West Valley (Wadi el-Gharbi), where Amenhotep III and Ay were buried, is "mostly unexplored" — overstates the case. KV23 (Ay) was first cleared by Giovanni Belzoni in 1816. KV25, the unfinished tomb attributed by some specialists to the original burial program of Amenhotep IV (Akhenaten) before he moved his court to Amarna, was discovered by Giovanni Belzoni in 1817 and re-excavated in 1972 by Otto Schaden's University of Minnesota Egyptian Expedition (UMEE). The West Valley has fewer recorded tombs, fewer visitors, and substantially less surface disturbance than the East Valley, and that may yet justify systematic survey. It is not, in the technical sense, unexplored.

What remains genuinely open

What remains genuinely open at the Valley, after stripping the over-amplified narratives and resolved questions away, is a smaller but real list. The architectural plans of KV5 are seven percent cleared. The Twenty-first-Dynasty priestly dockets on the rescued royal mummies have been transcribed but not fully cross-correlated with the ancient-DNA work being done on the same bodies. The full ancient-DNA dataset behind the 2010 JAMA paper has not been published. Thousands of Deir el-Medina ostraca are still in archive boxes at the IFAO. The original tomb-assemblage contexts of perhaps thirty New Kingdom royal burials are not recoverable, but the fragmentary inventories partially preserved in the tomb-robbery papyri have not been fully reconciled with the surviving objects in museum collections worldwide. Each of these is a tractable problem with a known shape. None of them is a hidden royal tomb. The Valley's remaining mystery, in 2026, is not what is hidden inside the rock. It is how slowly the recovered material is being read.

Significance

The Valley of the Kings is the case study where Egyptology's standing claim to comprehensiveness collides with its actual rate of recovery. The site is the most heavily studied royal-burial complex in the ancient world; it has been continuously surveyed for two centuries; and it nonetheless yielded three new tombs in the sixteen years between 1995 and 2011, of which one (KV5) is the largest tomb in the Valley by chamber count and is approximately seven percent cleared. The relationship between "fully studied" and "fully understood" has rarely been demonstrated more starkly. For the broader question of how confident any archaeological inventory should be — at any site — the Valley is the upper bound on what continuous attention can produce: high confidence about what is on the surface, partial confidence about what is below it, and an open question about how much remains in the rooms and corridors that were located but never cleared.

The site is also the cleanest test case for how popular narratives diverge from the technical literature. The Reeves–Nefertiti hypothesis, the Hawass 2010 lineage, the curse of the pharaohs, and the "lost Carter notebook" are four separate stories whose public versions and scholarly versions have moved in opposite directions over the last decade. The Reeves hypothesis was published in a non-peer-reviewed occasional paper, generated a global press cycle, and closed in null on the 2018 triple-frequency Polytechnic of Turin scan — a result that has reached almost no popular audience. The Hawass aDNA paper proposed a Tutankhamun lineage that has been substantially contested in the methodological literature without that contestation reaching general readers. The curse has been formally debunked by Nelson's 2002 BMJ cohort study and continues to circulate. The Carter "lost notebook" is a false premise; the archive has been published online since the early 2000s. The Valley's lost-knowledge inventory is therefore in two distinct categories: things that are genuinely not known (KV5's unexcavated ninety-three percent, the unpublished Deir el-Medina ostraca, the original tomb-assemblage contexts), and things that are known but whose corrections have not propagated.

For the question of what survives from a high civilization across the boundary of state collapse, the Valley provides a particular kind of answer. The royal mummies survive because the Twenty-first-Dynasty priests moved them, even at the cost of stripping the original assemblages and shifting them between caches. The architectural record survives because the Valley's geology — limestone, low water table, low traffic — is more forgiving than most. The documentary record survives partially through the tomb-robbery papyri and substantially through the workmen's-village ostraca, but in both cases the corpus is incompletely published. The pattern is that physical material survives more reliably than informational context. The implication is that a substantial part of what could be recovered from the Valley is not waiting in the rock; it is waiting in the IFAO archives, in the British Museum's papyrus collections, in the original photographic negatives of the cache clearances, and in the untranscribed marginalia of nineteenth-century field notebooks. The Valley's remaining lost knowledge is more a publication problem than a discovery problem — and that is a structural lesson about the rate at which any well-attended archaeological site actually moves from excavation to understanding.

Connections

The parent entry, Valley of the Kings, gives the geographic, chronological, and architectural overview that this page presupposes — the Eighteenth- through Twentieth-Dynasty royal use of the wadi, the basic catalog of recorded tombs, and the standing inventory of conservation problems. Readers approaching the lost-knowledge questions for the first time are best served by reading the parent entry first, since the architectural references throughout the present page (KV5, KV62, KV35, KV17, the West Valley) all assume the parent's frame.

The companion lane on the Valley's astronomical content, Valley of the Kings — Astronomical Alignments, addresses a separate question: what the painted ceilings of the tombs encode about Egyptian astronomy. That page is the right destination for the decanal star clocks, the Nut ceiling of KV17 (Seti I), the hour-by-hour Duat geography of KV9 (Ramesses VI), and the question of how the New Kingdom programme of painted-ceiling astronomy relates to the Old Kingdom programme of axial-built astronomy at Giza. The two pages share a starting point — that the Valley is a primary archive of New Kingdom cosmology — and divide cleanly between unresolved questions of contents (this page) and unresolved questions of astronomical encoding (the alignments page).

Within the Theban ritual landscape, the Valley sits opposite a well-attested temple complex on the east bank. The cult center for Amun, Karnak Temple, is the institutional and ideological counterpart to the royal mortuary zone in the western wadis: it is where the priests of Amun who eventually organized the Twenty-first-Dynasty royal-mummy caches were based, and the dockets on many rescued mummies record the priests' titles at Karnak. Luxor Temple, three kilometers south of Karnak and connected to it by the Avenue of Sphinxes, hosted the Opet festival in which the sacred barque of Amun was processed annually — the same processional cult whose disruption during the late Ramesside period correlates with the wave of tomb robberies documented in the Abbott, Leopold/Amherst, and Mayer papyri. The full ritual geography of Thebes — east-bank cult center, west-bank mortuary necropolis, and the daily processional axis between them — is the political-religious context in which the Valley's looting and salvage cycles played out.

For the comparative question of how the New Kingdom royal-tomb programme differs from the older Old Kingdom royal-burial programme, two key reference sites are the Great Pyramid of Giza (Khufu, Fourth Dynasty, the high point of the pyramid-burial tradition) and the Great Sphinx of Giza (the Old Kingdom monumental sculptural programme attached to the Khafre pyramid complex). The shift from above-ground monumental burial at Giza to subterranean rock-cut burial at Thebes is the single largest architectural transition in Egyptian royal mortuary practice, and it is the structural reason the Valley's lost-knowledge questions take the shape they do — questions of what is hidden, rather than questions of what was visibly carried off centuries before any modern survey.

For comparison with another New Kingdom royal monument, Abu Simbel — Ramesses II's rock-cut temple complex in Lower Nubia — illustrates what survives when a New Kingdom royal monumental programme is built into living rock at a remove from the Theban looting cycle. The contrast with the Valley's losses is instructive: the same dynasty whose royal tombs were systematically stripped within a century of construction also produced a temple complex four hundred kilometers south whose program survives essentially intact.

Further Reading

  • Primary archaeological reports and excavation publications.

  • Kent R. Weeks, KV5: A Preliminary Report on the Excavation of the Tomb of the Sons of Ramesses II in the Valley of the Kings, revised edition (American University in Cairo Press, Publications of the Theban Mapping Project, 2006). The standing technical report on the largest tomb in the Valley, including the chamber inventory, the architectural reconstruction, and the clearance status as of 2006.

  • Theban Mapping Project (Kent R. Weeks, director). KV5 entry and tomb-by-tomb maps at thebanmappingproject.com. The standing online reference for tomb dimensions, plans, and clearance status across the Valley.

  • Otto J. Schaden and the Amenmesse Project, KV63 excavation reports (University of Memphis Institute of Egyptian Art and Archaeology, 2006-2010). The primary technical reporting on the KV63 embalming cache, including the inventory of coffins, jars, and natron and the seal evidence dating the deposit to the late Eighteenth Dynasty.

  • Susanne Bickel and Elina Paulin-Grothe, "KV64: A New Tomb in the Valley of the Kings," University of Basel Kings' Valley Project announcement, 15 January 2012. The original announcement of the KV64 find and the identification of the Twenty-second-Dynasty reuse burial of Nehmes-Bastet.

  • The Reeves–Nefertiti hypothesis and the radar saga.

  • Nicholas Reeves, "The Burial of Nefertiti?", Amarna Royal Tombs Project Occasional Paper No. 1 (2015). The 2015 hypothesis paper. Not peer-reviewed; circulated through Reeves's own occasional-paper series. The paper that started the chamber-search saga.

  • Nicholas Reeves, The Decorated North Wall in the Tomb of Tutankhamun (KV62) (the Burial of Nefertiti? II), Amarna Royal Tombs Project Occasional Paper No. 3 (2019). Reeves's 2019 follow-up, reaffirming the architectural-traces argument after the 2018 GPR null. The technical consensus has not moved with him.

  • Luigi Sambuelli (lead author), Cesare Comina, Gianluca Catanzariti, Filippo Barsuglia, Gianfranco Morelli, and Francesco Porcelli (project coordinator), "The third KV62 radar scan: Searching for hidden chambers adjacent to Tutankhamun's tomb," Journal of Cultural Heritage 39 (2019), pages 288-296 (DOI 10.1016/j.culher.2019.04.001). The definitive triple-frequency GPR survey closing the question; freely searchable on ScienceDirect (S1296207418308124).

  • Kristin Romey and others, "Tut's Tomb Radar Scan Proves There Are No Hidden Chambers," National Geographic (2018). The contemporary popular reporting that summarized the 2018 result for the general reader.

  • J. R. Lightbody, "The Tutankhamun-Nefertiti joint burial hypothesis: a critique," Journal of Ancient Egyptian Architecture 5 (2021). A scholarly critique of the architectural-traces argument that underlay the original Reeves paper.

  • Genetics and the contested lineage.

  • Zahi Hawass, Yehia Z. Gad, Somaia Ismail, Rabab Khairat, Dina Fathalla, Naglaa Hasan, Amal Ahmed, Hisham Elleithy, Markus Ball, Fawzi Gaballah, Sally Wasef, Mohamed Fateen, Hany Amer, Paul Gostner, Ashraf Selim, Albert Zink, and Carsten M. Pusch, "Ancestry and Pathology in King Tutankhamun's Family," JAMA 303(7) (17 February 2010), pages 638-647 (PMID 20159872). The headline aDNA and CT-imaging paper proposing the parent identifications. Read alongside the methodological critiques rather than as a closed result.

  • Corinne Duhig, "The remains of Pharaoh Akhenaten are not yet identified: comments on 'Biological age of the skeletonised mummy from Tomb KV55 at Thebes (Egypt) is consistent with Pharaoh Akhenaten'," Anthropologie 48 (2010). The osteological argument against the KV55-as-Akhenaten identification.

  • Tomb robbery and the cache project.

  • T. Eric Peet, The Great Tomb-Robberies of the Twentieth Egyptian Dynasty, two volumes (Oxford University Press, 1930). The foundational publication of the Abbott, Leopold/Amherst, and Mayer papyri, with hieroglyphic transcriptions, English translations, and historical commentary.

  • Kenneth A. Kitchen, Ramesside Inscriptions: Historical and Biographical, volumes 6-7 (Blackwell, 1983 and following; English translations issued through 2014). The standard updated philological edition and translation of the late-Ramesside tomb-robbery dossier, which spans the reigns of Ramesses IX through XI across both volumes.

  • The curse cohort study.

  • Mark R. Nelson, "The mummy's curse: historical cohort study," BMJ 325(7378) (21 December 2002), pages 1482-1484 (PMC139048). The retrospective cohort study showing no statistically significant mortality difference between exposed and unexposed Westerners present in Egypt during the KV62 opening window.

  • The Carter archive and the workmen's village.

  • Griffith Institute, University of Oxford, Tutankhamun: Anatomy of an Excavation, online archive at griffith.ox.ac.uk/discoveringTut. The complete published Carter excavation records — diary, object cards, correspondence, and Burton's photographic plates — searchable and indexed.

  • Jaroslav Černý, Catalogue des Ostraca Hiératiques non Littéraires de Deir el Médineh, DFIFAO series, beginning with volume 3 (Imprimerie de l'Institut Français d'Archéologie Orientale, 1935) and continuing through 1970. The standing catalog series for the non-literary ostraca; the bulk of the IFAO holding remains unpublished.

  • Leiden Deir el-Medina Database, dmd.wepwawet.nl. The primary searchable index of published and unpublished ostraca and papyri from the workmen's village, maintained by the Leiden Deir el-Medina project.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is the Valley of the Kings really still yielding new tombs?

Yes, on a documented schedule. KV5 was rediscovered by Kent Weeks's Theban Mapping Project in 1995 and is the largest tomb in the Valley by chamber count, with more than 130 chambers documented and only about seven percent cleared as of 2006. KV63 was opened by Otto Schaden's team in February 2006. KV64 was found by the University of Basel team led by Susanne Bickel and Elina Paulin-Grothe in January 2011 and announced in January 2012. Three new or rediscovered tombs in sixteen years, after eighty-four years of no finds between Carter's 1922 KV62 and Schaden's KV63. The Valley is partially documented, not exhausted.

Did Reeves's hidden-chambers hypothesis pan out?

No. Nicholas Reeves's 2015 paper, "The Burial of Nefertiti?", was published in the non-peer-reviewed Amarna Royal Tombs Project Occasional Paper No. 1 and proposed that KV62 contains sealed-up doorways leading to additional chambers, including the burial of Nefertiti. Three ground-penetrating radar surveys followed: a positive 2015 reading by Hirokatsu Watanabe, a contradictory negative 2016 reading commissioned by National Geographic, and a definitive 2018 triple-frequency scan by Francesco Porcelli's team at the Polytechnic University of Turin. The Porcelli paper, published in 2019 in the Journal of Cultural Heritage, reported that hidden chambers adjacent to KV62 are "not supported by the GPR data" with high confidence. The hypothesis is closed.

Was Akhenaten really Tutankhamun's father?

Not established. The 2010 Hawass et al. JAMA paper (volume 303, pages 638-647) used short-tandem-repeat profiling on royal mummies and proposed that the KV55 male was Tutankhamun's father, with the KV35 "Younger Lady" as his mother. Both identifications have been substantially contested. The KV55 mummy's age at death is disputed — estimates range from 19-22 to 35-45 years — which directly bears on whether the remains can be Akhenaten at all. Corinne Duhig has argued the bones cannot belong to Akhenaten and may represent Smenkhkare. The full underlying aDNA dataset was not published. The honest reading is that a parent-child relationship between KV55 and KV62 was proposed; the identification of KV55 as Akhenaten is independent of the genetic data and remains open.

Is the curse of the pharaohs real?

No, by the available statistical evidence. Mark R. Nelson's 2002 BMJ paper ("The mummy's curse: historical cohort study," volume 325, pages 1482-1484) examined 44 Westerners present in Egypt during the relevant exposure window, of whom 25 had defined exposure to KV62. Mean age at death was 70 years for the exposed group and 75 for the comparison group; the difference was not statistically significant (P=0.87). Howard Carter, the most exposed individual, died in 1939 at age 64 of Hodgkin's lymphoma — sixteen years after opening the tomb. Lord Carnarvon died of pneumonia and erysipelas from an infected mosquito bite. A 2003 Lancet letter proposing Aspergillus mold has not been substantiated. The cultural narrative is durable; the underlying signal is not.

What happened to Howard Carter's notebooks?

Nothing. The popular claim that Carter kept a "lost notebook" of undeclared finds is a false premise. Carter's complete excavation archive — diary, object cards, correspondence with Carnarvon, and Harry Burton's photographic negatives — was transferred to the Griffith Institute at Oxford in 1946 and has been freely accessible online since the early 2000s under the project name Tutankhamun: Anatomy of an Excavation. The archive is searchable and indexed. There are real and open historical questions about whether some objects left the tomb informally during the early seasons, but those questions are addressed within the published archive rather than from outside it. The records are not missing.

What was actually inside KV63?

An embalmer's workshop deposit, almost certainly associated with the burial of Tutankhamun. Otto Schaden's team opened the chamber in March 2006 and recovered seven wooden coffins of mixed quality and size, none containing a body, plus approximately 28 large pottery and alabaster storage jars (~75 cm tall) and more than 175 kilograms of natron — the desiccant used in the mummification process. The seal evidence and the shared flood layer that closed both KV63 and KV62 place the deposit in the same context as the smaller KV54 cache found by Theodore Davis in 1907, which is also identified with Tutankhamun's funeral. KV63 is the larger working-materials cache from the same embalming program. It is not a lost royal tomb, and it should not be described as one.

How much of the Deir el-Medina archive is unread?

Substantially. Roughly five thousand inscribed ostraca have been recovered from the workmen's village whose residents built the New Kingdom royal tombs. Jaroslav Černý's catalogue series (Documents de Fouilles de l'Institut Français d'Archéologie Orientale, beginning with volume 3 in 1935 and continuing through 1970) published a major portion. Bernard Bruyère's IFAO excavation notebooks from the 1922-onward campaigns are partially published. The Leiden Deir el-Medina Database tracks the published corpus alongside roughly a thousand catalogued but unpublished ostraca, and the full unpublished holding at the IFAO in Cairo runs to thousands of additional pieces. The operational record of how the royal tombs were actually built — schedules, disputes, supply chains, named workmen — exists; it has not been read in full by anyone in living memory.

Why did the Twenty-first-Dynasty priests move the royal mummies?

Because they could no longer protect the original tombs from systematic looting. The tomb-robbery papyri from the late Ramesside period — the Abbott Papyrus (Year 16 of Ramesses IX), the Leopold II / Amherst Papyrus (also Year 16 of Ramesses IX), and the Mayer Papyri A and B (Year 19 of Ramesses XI and following) — document an organized robbery wave that targeted royal and noble tombs across the Theban necropolis. The Twenty-first-Dynasty priestly response was to consolidate. Royal mummies were unwrapped, sometimes recoffined, and moved to two principal hiding places: TT320 at Deir el-Bahari, found in 1881, and the side chambers of KV35, found by Loret in 1898. The priests saved the bodies; the original tomb assemblages — canopic equipment, papyri, grave goods — were not saved, because they could not be.