I haven't been able to write much lately (Part II of my History of Violence will eventually be published, I haven't given up on it!) BUT I received a copy of The Archaeological Review from Cambridge with my own little article in it. When I say "article", I really mean "book review". So, I don't have "a proven track record and extensive publications on [any] subject" yet, but I'm working on it. I had a great time writing the review (and I got a free book worth £75 for my personal library), so I'd really recommend book-review publishing to any graduate student who wants to eventually publish their research, as it's easier than writing an article but still an excellent way to get acquainted with the publishing process and with a number of obscure writing conventions. Anyway, the article is online here. It's on Scarre's latest book on the Neolithic of Brittany (which I enjoyed a lot).
Also, special thanks need to go to Danika Parikh, the reviews editor, who was a pleasure to work with. That is all.
My very own not-so-Indiana-Jonesy adventures. There will be mud, rocks and bonus points for the first trowel-wielder to give me the number of this blog's background colour on a Munsell chart.
Showing posts with label Neolithic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neolithic. Show all posts
Friday, 15 June 2012
Thursday, 10 May 2012
A History of Violence: Part I
In archaeology, much like in entertaining, the most popular things are often either the grimmest or the most glamorous. This new post is more about gloom than glitter: we're going to take a look at one of modern human's most ancient pastimes - no, I'm not talking about fooling around with professional booby-flashers - warfare. Of course, there is no need to dig up ancient bones to think about violence, as it is just as alive now as it ever was. But how long has Man indulged in the sweet sound of its neighbour's skull crashing under a well- placed blow? Some of the evidence, and in particular that provided by broken, mangled or badly treated human remains- still hits home thousands of years after the events with a surprising intensity, and researchers have long tried to give back to silent remains and quiet battle sites the screaming voices they have lost.
Warfare at its origins was probably very different from what comes to our minds when we think about war. Various parameters can be compared. How many casualties? Who are the victims? Who fights: professional soldiers, conscripted/mobilised individuals, warriors? What are the tactics used and the nature of the combats? What is the value of the life of a soldier/civilian and how many deaths are the opponents prepared to accept for a particular cause? What are they fighting, or what are they fighting for? Are they fighting at home or abroad? Are people dying as a direct consequence of military action, or because of famine and disease brought by the war?
The way we conduct and envisage warfare has evolved a great deal, and it is difficult to imagine that, while the nations involved in the Afghan war Coalition find it increasingly hard to justify and cope with the deaths of approximately 2900 professional soldiers over 10 and a half years (so far, and with over 22,600 wounded soldiers to add to the victim count), one estimation of the number of civilian deaths suggests a death toll of 12,500 to 14,700 as of June 2011. During the recent debate between the then candidates to the French presidential elections, Hollande and Sarkozy were asked when they would finally pull French troops out of Afghanistan. France has lost 83 soldiers there, and because of doubts surrounding the reason and the relevance of its presence in Afghanistan, these 83 deaths abroad are more than the French were prepared to accept. In very different circumstances and at a time when wars were fought differently and by different people, the Battle of the Somme alone, in 1916, lasted 4 and a half months and claimed the lives of an estimated 146,431 allied troops. The Allied lost over 9.4 million soldiers in the War.
Understanding modern warfare is complicated, not least because of the various interests, official or not, which are at stake for the groups involved. Identifying and understanding warfare through archaeological remains is another task altogether.
According to Keeley, primitive warfare is generally described by anthropologists as less deadly in terms of numbers than modern warfare. Some authors consider that wars can only occur between states or other "complex" socio-political units, but in my opinion, this assumption is contradicted by the record. I suppose it's down to how one defines the word "warfare".
Researchers are divided about the degree of violence prehistoric Europeans visited upon each-other. Some see signs everywhere, others see only ritual, and others yet are a lot more cautious about their interpretations. Identifying ancient warfare isn't as straightforward as we'd think: not only is a violent death not always recognisable when there is a skeleton to look at, often, there are no remains to study at all. Any wound not affecting the skeleton will go unnoticed, and of course not every bone in the skeleton comes out of a multi-century-spanning nap in the ground all fresh and pristine, allowing the osteoarchaeologist to admire all its potential cuts and breaks. Healed wounds can be distinguished from non-healed ones, but making the difference between a lethal blow and a bone accidentally smashed by careless undertakers while burying the body can be impossible. As for some of our favourite bits of evidence for violence, they too can be misleading. A parry fracture! Someone was defending themselves against an enemy. Or a brutal spouse. Or their own clumsiness.
To make it even better - we'd all hate it if it was simple - weapons from the Palaeolithic up to the end of the Neolithic aren't just weapons, they're agricultural tools (axes, adzes) or hunting equipment (arrowheads). And even when swords and shields make their appearance, they turn out to not always be functional weapons. Even practices such as decapitation don't always point to an armed conflict: what about ancestor cults? Some unusual deposits can also be the result of a violent answer to a crisis that does not involve warfare - I'm looking at you, human sacrifice.
Of course, this is not to say that ancient warfare can never be recognised, or that it doesn't exist. There is plenty of disturbing/alarming/saddening evidence for Prehistoric organised violence, so much so that it places the horrifying historic and contemporary conflicts we have learnt about at school or followed with the News within a long tradition. I wouldn't say that by putting them into perspective, one can diminish the horror attached to them, though. If anything, the continuing nature of interpersonal, large-scale violence points to a bleak future. Erm. Enough deep thinking, it's time for me to go eat some chocolate biscuits. I'll actually start talking about the evidence for prehistoric warfare in Europe in Part II.
References (more to come in Part II):
Keeley, L.H., 1996, War Before Civilization, the Myth of the Peaceful Savage, Oxford University Press, Oxford
| "Hank always complained about his bad back." Neolithic violences, flint projectile meets human vertebrae. Musée des Antiquités Nationales, St Germain-en-Laye |
Warfare at its origins was probably very different from what comes to our minds when we think about war. Various parameters can be compared. How many casualties? Who are the victims? Who fights: professional soldiers, conscripted/mobilised individuals, warriors? What are the tactics used and the nature of the combats? What is the value of the life of a soldier/civilian and how many deaths are the opponents prepared to accept for a particular cause? What are they fighting, or what are they fighting for? Are they fighting at home or abroad? Are people dying as a direct consequence of military action, or because of famine and disease brought by the war?
The way we conduct and envisage warfare has evolved a great deal, and it is difficult to imagine that, while the nations involved in the Afghan war Coalition find it increasingly hard to justify and cope with the deaths of approximately 2900 professional soldiers over 10 and a half years (so far, and with over 22,600 wounded soldiers to add to the victim count), one estimation of the number of civilian deaths suggests a death toll of 12,500 to 14,700 as of June 2011. During the recent debate between the then candidates to the French presidential elections, Hollande and Sarkozy were asked when they would finally pull French troops out of Afghanistan. France has lost 83 soldiers there, and because of doubts surrounding the reason and the relevance of its presence in Afghanistan, these 83 deaths abroad are more than the French were prepared to accept. In very different circumstances and at a time when wars were fought differently and by different people, the Battle of the Somme alone, in 1916, lasted 4 and a half months and claimed the lives of an estimated 146,431 allied troops. The Allied lost over 9.4 million soldiers in the War.
Understanding modern warfare is complicated, not least because of the various interests, official or not, which are at stake for the groups involved. Identifying and understanding warfare through archaeological remains is another task altogether.
According to Keeley, primitive warfare is generally described by anthropologists as less deadly in terms of numbers than modern warfare. Some authors consider that wars can only occur between states or other "complex" socio-political units, but in my opinion, this assumption is contradicted by the record. I suppose it's down to how one defines the word "warfare".
![]() |
| No, not this kind of primitive warfare. |
Researchers are divided about the degree of violence prehistoric Europeans visited upon each-other. Some see signs everywhere, others see only ritual, and others yet are a lot more cautious about their interpretations. Identifying ancient warfare isn't as straightforward as we'd think: not only is a violent death not always recognisable when there is a skeleton to look at, often, there are no remains to study at all. Any wound not affecting the skeleton will go unnoticed, and of course not every bone in the skeleton comes out of a multi-century-spanning nap in the ground all fresh and pristine, allowing the osteoarchaeologist to admire all its potential cuts and breaks. Healed wounds can be distinguished from non-healed ones, but making the difference between a lethal blow and a bone accidentally smashed by careless undertakers while burying the body can be impossible. As for some of our favourite bits of evidence for violence, they too can be misleading. A parry fracture! Someone was defending themselves against an enemy. Or a brutal spouse. Or their own clumsiness.
![]() |
| "Here's a flesh wound that osteoarchaeologists will detect all right" |
To make it even better - we'd all hate it if it was simple - weapons from the Palaeolithic up to the end of the Neolithic aren't just weapons, they're agricultural tools (axes, adzes) or hunting equipment (arrowheads). And even when swords and shields make their appearance, they turn out to not always be functional weapons. Even practices such as decapitation don't always point to an armed conflict: what about ancestor cults? Some unusual deposits can also be the result of a violent answer to a crisis that does not involve warfare - I'm looking at you, human sacrifice.
Of course, this is not to say that ancient warfare can never be recognised, or that it doesn't exist. There is plenty of disturbing/alarming/saddening evidence for Prehistoric organised violence, so much so that it places the horrifying historic and contemporary conflicts we have learnt about at school or followed with the News within a long tradition. I wouldn't say that by putting them into perspective, one can diminish the horror attached to them, though. If anything, the continuing nature of interpersonal, large-scale violence points to a bleak future. Erm. Enough deep thinking, it's time for me to go eat some chocolate biscuits. I'll actually start talking about the evidence for prehistoric warfare in Europe in Part II.
References (more to come in Part II):
Keeley, L.H., 1996, War Before Civilization, the Myth of the Peaceful Savage, Oxford University Press, Oxford
Labels:
Mesolithic,
Neolithic,
Violence,
Warfare
Location:
Europe
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
It's all about perception!
It's that time of the year again - the Spring Equinox. Days have been getting longer and sunnier, and while I celebrate by having lunch in the garden, others will be performing neopagan/druidic rites. Of course, exactly how and to what extent these modern rites can be traced back to prehistoric times is debatable to say the least, and ancient druids, being posterior by a long time to the monuments where modern ones carry out their rituals, played no role in their construction. However, collective memory, astronomy and ancient ritual aren't complete strangers. The significance of astronomical events with regards to Prehistoric cosmologies, world-views and architectures has long been the object of much scientific (and pseudo-scientific) debate. In this blog entry, I'd like to get thinking about old and new ritual, and changing perceptions. That is, my own changing perceptions as well as prehistoric/historic people's. I'll take Avebury as an example because I have a bit of material about it.
Because Spring makes me happy, I'll throw in a few awesomesauce pictures of sunsets/rises. Today's equinox is quite obviously a shameless excuse for me to post them, as they were in fact taken around the Winter solstice, so that if anyone's standing in the passages of Maes Howe or Newgrange waiting for the last rays of sun to illuminate their feet, they're in for a big disappointment-especially as it is now 20:54.
Among other Neolithic sites, the Avebury monument complex - and in particular its remarkably large henge enclosure - was once thought to have been related to the practice of astronomy (a theory famously defended by Alexander Thom) or to rituals designed around the seasons- with more or less convincing evidence. However, while the architectures of the monuments pictured above are widely recognised as being tightly related to astronomical considerations, such a relationship seems more dubious in the case of Avebury, and the title of "observatory" has been discarded by most authors. The irregularity of the henge's circular shape, explained by Thom as the deliberate setting of the stones in precise positions calculated thanks to an impressive astronomical knowledge, is now explained in simpler (less exciting?) terms. Being the largest henge archaeologists know of - so vast that it now encloses part of the village of Avebury, the enclosure may simply have been trickier than others to make perfectly circular. Maybe more importantly, it seems reasonable to assume that what the builders wanted to achieve was the illusion of circularity rather than circularity itself. Which brings us to the theme of perception.
I'd like to go back to the notion of varying degrees of understanding. When looking at remains from such remote periods as the Neolithic, I often find that I almost forget that they were lived in and/or interacted with in a normal way, not in some sort of model, error-free way. People were no wiser than we are, they made mistakes, loved to show off their wealth and high social status, and it makes no doubt that some of them were complete idiots. It's possible that some people were more interested in religion than others, and it seems highly probable that they had different grasps on the meaning of symbols, ritual acts, etc. As beliefs are not necessarily static even when they are long-lasting, different generations would also probably have been more or less knowledgeable about some religious and ritual aspects. The same monuments, gestures, rites and myths may resonate differently even in the minds of people who share a common culture.
Take this Annunciation by Fra Angelico, for instance. Anybody would recognise it as a Christian image. Most people would recognise Gabriel informing Mary of her imminent pregnancy and Adam and Eve being chased out of Eden as a reminder of why mankind now needs a saviour, but even amongst Christians not all the codes would be understood by everybody. The enclosed garden as a symbol of fertility and virginity, the columns, the Dove, the flowers and numerous other symbols will either be viewed as charged with meaning or as simple elements of decorum. Painted as part of an altarpiece, this Cortone Annunciation would probably have been understood more or less thoroughly according to the level of education of the people who saw it. Another Annunciation painted by Fra Angelico for the monastery of San Marco in Florence does not feature the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Eden, or indeed many of the symbols found on the Cortone retable. It also lacks the bling of the Cortone version. It is plainer, perhaps because it is addressed to a very different sort of worshippers.
Going back to Neolithic Avebury, it is of course always hazardous to draw parallels between entirely different periods. Education had a lot to do with the various levels of understanding in Medieval times, and it continues to do so. Next to nothing can be said about education before writing, but it is possible that some individuals or groups of people had privileged access to knowledge, and maybe, as suggested by Pollard & Reynolds, to some parts of the monuments such as the Cove and the Obelisk, arrangements of large stones located inside the inner stone circles of the henge. Rites of initiation may have controlled the access to these areas. Ironically, archaeologists can't see the whole picture of the Avebury complex any more than the people taking part in rituals did. We have precise maps of what is left of the complex, they knew precisely what they were doing there. Well... some of them did anyway.
This entry's mainly based on whatever was going through my mind these past few days and an old essay I've revisited (I'm the neopagan to my own papers... woop!) Here are the references of the few books mentioned above. And a few others that have helped me form opinions/understandings. The good stuff in this entry probably comes from them in some form or other. The silly stuff is mine.
-Bradley, R. Altering the Earth, Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, Edinburgh, 1993
-Pollard, J. & Reynolds, A. Avebury, the Biography of a Landscape, Tempus, Stroud, 2002
-Scarre, C. (ed.), Monuments and Landscapes in Atlantic Europe, Perception and Society during the Neolithic and Early Bronze Age, Routledge, London & New York, 2002
-Scarre, C. Monuments mégalithiques de Grande-Bretagne et d'Irlande, Errance, Paris, 2005
-Thom, A. Megalithic Sites in Britain, Oxford University Press, Oxford 1967
-Tilley, C. The Materiality of Stone, Explorations in Landscape Phenomenology, Berg, Oxford & New York, 2004
-Stukeley, W. Abury, a Temple of the British Druids, with Some Others Described, London, 1743
Because Spring makes me happy, I'll throw in a few awesomesauce pictures of sunsets/rises. Today's equinox is quite obviously a shameless excuse for me to post them, as they were in fact taken around the Winter solstice, so that if anyone's standing in the passages of Maes Howe or Newgrange waiting for the last rays of sun to illuminate their feet, they're in for a big disappointment-especially as it is now 20:54.
![]() |
| Morning sunlight coming through the roof-box above the door at Newgrange, Boyne Valley (Ireland). Picture: www.newgrange.com |
![]() |
| Passage to the central chamber of Maes Howe (Orkney), illuminated. Picture: www.maeswhowe.co.uk |
![]() |
| Stonehenge, Wiltshire. Picture: www.philosophy.christopher-roberts.co.uk |
Among other Neolithic sites, the Avebury monument complex - and in particular its remarkably large henge enclosure - was once thought to have been related to the practice of astronomy (a theory famously defended by Alexander Thom) or to rituals designed around the seasons- with more or less convincing evidence. However, while the architectures of the monuments pictured above are widely recognised as being tightly related to astronomical considerations, such a relationship seems more dubious in the case of Avebury, and the title of "observatory" has been discarded by most authors. The irregularity of the henge's circular shape, explained by Thom as the deliberate setting of the stones in precise positions calculated thanks to an impressive astronomical knowledge, is now explained in simpler (less exciting?) terms. Being the largest henge archaeologists know of - so vast that it now encloses part of the village of Avebury, the enclosure may simply have been trickier than others to make perfectly circular. Maybe more importantly, it seems reasonable to assume that what the builders wanted to achieve was the illusion of circularity rather than circularity itself. Which brings us to the theme of perception.
I'd like to go back to the notion of varying degrees of understanding. When looking at remains from such remote periods as the Neolithic, I often find that I almost forget that they were lived in and/or interacted with in a normal way, not in some sort of model, error-free way. People were no wiser than we are, they made mistakes, loved to show off their wealth and high social status, and it makes no doubt that some of them were complete idiots. It's possible that some people were more interested in religion than others, and it seems highly probable that they had different grasps on the meaning of symbols, ritual acts, etc. As beliefs are not necessarily static even when they are long-lasting, different generations would also probably have been more or less knowledgeable about some religious and ritual aspects. The same monuments, gestures, rites and myths may resonate differently even in the minds of people who share a common culture.
![]() |
| Fra Angelico, Annunciation (Cortone) 1434 |
![]() |
| Fra Angelico, Annunciation (San Marco Monastery), around 1451 |
Going back to Neolithic Avebury, it is of course always hazardous to draw parallels between entirely different periods. Education had a lot to do with the various levels of understanding in Medieval times, and it continues to do so. Next to nothing can be said about education before writing, but it is possible that some individuals or groups of people had privileged access to knowledge, and maybe, as suggested by Pollard & Reynolds, to some parts of the monuments such as the Cove and the Obelisk, arrangements of large stones located inside the inner stone circles of the henge. Rites of initiation may have controlled the access to these areas. Ironically, archaeologists can't see the whole picture of the Avebury complex any more than the people taking part in rituals did. We have precise maps of what is left of the complex, they knew precisely what they were doing there. Well... some of them did anyway.
This entry's mainly based on whatever was going through my mind these past few days and an old essay I've revisited (I'm the neopagan to my own papers... woop!) Here are the references of the few books mentioned above. And a few others that have helped me form opinions/understandings. The good stuff in this entry probably comes from them in some form or other. The silly stuff is mine.
-Bradley, R. Altering the Earth, Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, Edinburgh, 1993
-Pollard, J. & Reynolds, A. Avebury, the Biography of a Landscape, Tempus, Stroud, 2002
-Scarre, C. (ed.), Monuments and Landscapes in Atlantic Europe, Perception and Society during the Neolithic and Early Bronze Age, Routledge, London & New York, 2002
-Scarre, C. Monuments mégalithiques de Grande-Bretagne et d'Irlande, Errance, Paris, 2005
-Thom, A. Megalithic Sites in Britain, Oxford University Press, Oxford 1967
-Tilley, C. The Materiality of Stone, Explorations in Landscape Phenomenology, Berg, Oxford & New York, 2004
-Stukeley, W. Abury, a Temple of the British Druids, with Some Others Described, London, 1743
Pâté and roast digger: Gréez-sur-Roc 2010-2011
Digging in France is very different from digging in the UK. It's usually free, with accommodation (or at least a place to pitch a tent) and food thrown in and paid for by whoever's excavating the site. There are less chances of trenches being flooded and more chances of ending up with a sunstroke. Gréez-sur-Roc (in the Sarthe département) had all of this. Delicious food, starry skies, scorching heat and a couple of locals bordering on insanity.
The vast Neolithic settlement site of Gréez, discovered by local teacher and researcher Jean Jousse, has been excavated every summer from 2003 to 2011 by J.N. Guyodo of the University of Nantes, with E. Mens studying the surface of stones and the traces left by successive detachments of matter and A. Blanchard carrying out her doctoral research. The village itself owes its name to the rocky substrate of the region, with Gréez being derived from 'Grès', meaning 'sandstone'. Because of the presence of sandstone close to the topsoil, the site has never been subjected to deep ploughing and has remained almost intact.
Neolithic people made use of some of the natural cavities in the sandstone, using them and creating new ones to hold the wooden posts of their houses, as illustrated in the following picture. Not all the houses were oriented in the same way and they may have been organised around a central village place.
As we students need to be entertained during rainy days, we decided to put our zooarchaeological skills to the test by putting back together the (relatively recent) skeleton of a cat, without much success. Apart from people being thrown into the village's old lavoir (where women used to wash clothes before running water in houses was cool) and from the lovely cities around, one of the major bonuses of this dig was the proximity of a farm where they sold amazing rillettes and foie gras. Nom.
More information about the site (in French) here and here.
The vast Neolithic settlement site of Gréez, discovered by local teacher and researcher Jean Jousse, has been excavated every summer from 2003 to 2011 by J.N. Guyodo of the University of Nantes, with E. Mens studying the surface of stones and the traces left by successive detachments of matter and A. Blanchard carrying out her doctoral research. The village itself owes its name to the rocky substrate of the region, with Gréez being derived from 'Grès', meaning 'sandstone'. Because of the presence of sandstone close to the topsoil, the site has never been subjected to deep ploughing and has remained almost intact.
Neolithic people made use of some of the natural cavities in the sandstone, using them and creating new ones to hold the wooden posts of their houses, as illustrated in the following picture. Not all the houses were oriented in the same way and they may have been organised around a central village place.
A huge amount of pottery fragments and flint flakes and tools has been recovered from the site, the distribution of which will be studied thanks to the recording of the location of all material found in the Neolithic strata of the site. Faunal remains have not been preserved because of the acidity of the sandy soil.
Unearthing two 6000 year-old polished axes while digging next to house remains may be one of the best ways to relate to Neolithic people and to get thinking about their work and their daily lives. Maybe for the first time since the end of my childhood, I have been truly amazed again. Among the significant 2010 finds was something that was, at the time, interpreted as a pendant made out of a broken Villeneuve-St-Germain schist bracelet. This VSG influence would then be one of several suggested cultural influences for this site (Chambon and Cerny types of pottery having also been recognised there, as of 2006).
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| Gate at La Ferté-Bernard (Sarthe). Pic from the town's website. |
More information about the site (in French) here and here.
Location:
Gréez-sur-Roc, France
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