FaganTalk

Mt Toba--the 73,000 year-old cataclysm

bfagan1200 — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 18:42:00 GMT

The full impact of the Mt. Toba eruption of about 73,000 years ago will never be known, but there’s no question that it was a major event, which blew most of a mountain into space. The explosion created a crater lake over 60 miles (96 km) long. Huge ash clouds rose high into the atmosphere and fell over much of the South China Sea and far north and west over Southeast Asia and India. In places, the ash deposits were up to 30 feet (9 m) deep. The eruption blanked the sun and caused the equivalent of a 6-year nuclear winter. The details of this devastating scenario are still being debated, especially its global impact on humanity.

Mt. Toba vanished into space at a critical moment in human history, when Homo sapiens, anatomically modern humans, ourselves, were flourishing in sub-Saharan Africa. Some hypotheses claim there was an evolutionary bottleneck that humanity almost became extinct, and that India was effectively depopulated, but these notions are by no means universally accepted. As always with sensational discoveries, the hype mounts immediately and even minor finds are magnified by University PR departments into huge scientific advances. For instance, a joint Indian and Oxford University expedition has spent seven years excavating a Stone Age living site in India’s Andhra Pradesh, removing layers of volcanic ash, in which stone tools survive. The artifacts occur above and below the Toba ash, tools that are said to be identical to ones made in southern Africa at the same time, proving, we are told, that some modern humans in India survived the cataclysm.

Casting aside the hype, what does this interesting find tell us? It certainly shows that there were humans living in India before and after the eruption, but there are, as far as I can tell, no precise dates for the tools found above and below the ash. How long after the ash fell did people resettle the area? Was this a group of immigrants or survivors of the ash fall? And how can one possibly claim that simple artifacts found in Africa were made by the same kinds of people in India? One cannot. All that the Andhra Pradesh site tells us that human occupation resumed after the eruption. Almost certainly, some people survived the catastrophe, perhaps in areas sheltered from ash, or spared its onslaught by shifting winds. But to claim more than this, in the absence of more accurate dating and of human fossils, tells us little beyond confirming that some folk occupied the area at some moment after the eruption.

So the Andhra Pradesh find moves the pieces on the archaeological chessboard slightly, but, in the absence of more precise dates and human fossils, it is but a straw in the archaeological wind. Claims like those made by the excavators, and one can sympathize with their need for publicity as part of the fund-raising game, require much more data, laid out systematically for fellow-specialists to evaluate. But it’s good news to learn that another five years of excavations are planned. India is one of the big gaps on the human evolution map, and more finds like this one are likely to revolutionize what we know about our ancestry.

Archaeology Conference 2010

bfagan1200 — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:28:00 GMT

The Archaeology Festival (or Conference) held every February is one of my favorite gatherings. The dynamics are totally different from that of an academic meeting, where the presentations tend to be narrowly focused and couched in highly technical terms. The Archaeology Conference is truly eclectic, covering everything from paleoanthropology and human evolution to Scottish heritage and, of course, the Romans. This is a meeting for the readers of Current Archaeology and Current World Archaeology, and, of course, anyone else interested—anyone interested in the past in the broadest possible sense. This year, the meeting was held in the modern conference facilities below the Great Hall in London's British Museum, a marvelous setting for a gathering of people interested in the past. During the two days, I enjoyed presentations on tree-rings and climate change, the evolution of the human brain, steam and water-powered cotton mills in Manchester, and Pompeii—to mention just a few. This is one of the few gatherings where professional and amateur archaeologists mingle freely and exchange ideas. And the evening drinks party after the British Archaeology Awards was a rollicking success, where conversation and networking went hand-in-hand. And where else would the awards ceremony be presided over by a detachment of Roman legionaries, in full uniform? A lovely occasion, and one that hopefully will become an annual event.

Conference in Venice

bfagan1200 — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:26:00 GMT

I’m on my way back from a climate change workshop in Venice concerned with the social consequences of climate change. I was the only archaeologist there, my task to provide a historical background for a series of what turned out to be pretty esoteric presentations about such issues as climatic change and education. Many fo them went way over my head. When I first agreed to speak, it was mainly because I had never been to Venice, and, in fact, I spent almost more time wandering through a rain-soaked theme park that is the city—and, let’s face it, Venice is a wonderful one. But I was struck how some of the speakers picked up on some points about adapting to ancient climate change that I stressed—the necessity of efficient infrastructures for distributing food, the success of decisive leadership, the increasing vulnerability of urban societies to major climatic events. In fact, the delegates seemed surprised that archaeology has so much to offer. Again and again, I’m reminded that precious few people really know what archaeologists actually do, nor do they realize that we really can contribute perspectives to contemporary issues based on lessons from the past.

The plane is filled to the gills with people commuting from Venice to London. We are all soaked, thanks to an exceptionally high tide that flooded St. Mark’s Square and a torrential deluge that lasted all day. But the city was still magical. I’m glad I was not a Doge. The ducal palace was bone-chillingly cold on a wet February day! We are about to land at Gatwick, so I desist. . . .

Tutankhamun again...

bfagan1200 — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:25:00 GMT

I’m tired of King Tut. He’s almost a cliché for Egyptology, largely because his was the only undisturbed pharaoh’s tomb. Various exhibits of his grave furniture have dazzled crowds throughout the world and turned a short-lived, historically insignificant pharaoh into an ancient celebrity. The manner of his death has triggered speculation for genertations. He’s been a war casualty and a murder victim, killed by a blow to the head---the list goes on and on. Every time some new finding about his mummy surfaces, international headlines ensue. Now, at last, we have some decisive hypotheses. Genetic testing and other state-of-the-art radiological investigations that show the young king was a very sick teenager indeed. He suffered from a recent leg fracture, which might have contributed to a life-threatening condition in an immune system already weakened by malaria. An international team of researchers is now pretty sure that Tutankhamun died from a severe bout of malaria combined with a degenerative bone condition. He suffered from a bone disorder called Kohler Disease II, which, in itself, is not fatal. But he also endured avascular bone necrosis, which diminishes blood supply to the bone causing much weakened tissue. His left foot was structurally altered—which may account for the walking sticks in his tomb. Then there’s genetic fingerprinting, which appears to establish that Tutankhamun’s father was Akhenaten, the so-called heretic pharaoh. There are, of course, the inevitable questions about his parentage that will continue as long as there are Egyptologists.

So the Tutankhamun death mystery appears laid (forgive the pun) to rest. Hopefully, the cliché will recede into history, for there is so much fascinating research on ancient Egyptian society and its many nuances that is just as interesting as the fate of an obscure ruler.

Cro-Magnon writing?

bfagan1200 — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:23:00 GMT

Now the fun starts. Canadian archaeologist Genevieve von Petzinger has completed a comprehensive study iof all the small marks and signs on the walls of Cro-Magnon caves. He identifies 26 signs, all drawn in the same style, which appear again and again at numerous sites dating across the whole chronological span of late Ice Age art in western Europe. Many of the signs are simple, others are more complex, but they seem to have some form of meaning, perhaps even being a kind of written communication. Some of the symbols appear in pairs; there are hints of formal groupings, something characteristic of early pictographic scripts. Open angles and dots are found at 42 sites; other signs such as ladders are much less common. If von Petzinger’s withstands critical appraisal, and it is certainly impressive work, we may have the earliest evidence of symbolic meanings being communicated by signs in human history. This should not surprise us, given the very complex symbolic beliefs of today’s hunter-gatherer groups, but, of course, the question of questions is what did this seemingly simple symbolic system mean? Clearly, if it was a system, the meanings behind it were complex indeed. Alas, we will never know—but the von Petzinger study seems to confirm what we have long known—that the Cro-Magnons lived in a very complex symbolic world, something that their predecessors, the Neanderthals never enjoyed.

Cro-Magnon e-edition

bfagan1200 — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 17:59:00 GMT

I don't know if there are plans for an e-edition. Last I heard the publisher was negotiating with Amazon. I certainly hope there will be one. I know there is an audio edition.

If I learn there is to be an e-edition, I will blog aboiut it.

Paul Mellars congratulations

bfagan1200 — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 03:03:00 GMT

Paul Mellars, a well known Stone Age archaeologist, was a contemporary of mine at Cambridge University many years ago. He's an expert on the Neanderthals, also on the spread of modern humans into Europe, upon which he has written numerous really well argued papers, using new radiocarbon dates. For many years,m he has been a fellow of Corpus Christi College in Cambridge.

In the Queen's New Year's honors, Paul was knighted for his services to archaeology. This is a huge honor for a very distinguished scholar and for archaeology. This seems like as good a forum as any to raise my battered (and non-exiostent) Indiana Jones hat in salute to a very nice man and an exceptional scholar, whose is modest and self-effacing.

Heartfelt congratulations to Paul. He deserves this remarkable honor.

I'm very lucky to be a small part of an extraordinary generation of luminaries in the archaeological world, which include Colin (now Lord) Renfrew), Sir Barry Cunliffe, and Charles Higham, in far away New Zealand, whose work in Southeast Asia is truly extraordinary.

I'm back - new book!

bfagan1200 — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 02:45:00 GMT

Sorry, sorry, sorry about the long silence. I have just been meeting deadlines and traveling.

I have been very busy with two book projects, one of which appears on March 2. This is Cro-Magnon: How the Ice Age gave birth to the First Modern Humans (Bloomsbury Press, of course--my favorite publishers). This has taken a great deal of travel and library research as well as conversations with all kinds of experts. Basically, it's a book for a general audience about the first modern humans to colonize Europe, which also explores the relationships between the Neanderthals and incoming modern people, about 45,000 years ago. The story involves not only this complex relationship, but also delving in to the ultimate origins of modern people--and the Cro-Magnons--in tropical Africa. There are all kinds of heroes and villains here--the catastrophic Mt. Toba eruption of 75,000 years ago that almost wiped out humanity, the bitter cold of the late Ice Age, the Campanian eruption in the Naples area of Italy, which has only just been recognized, and, of course, the remarkable new radiocarbon dates that are redefining modern human settlement of Europe. I've drawn heavily on Arctic historic ethnography for the book, to make the people come alive: a bit of a gamble, but worth it, I think. After all there are only a certain number of (well-documented) ways in which you can kill a reindeer or trap an arctic ptarmigan. So, it's a book for the general audience which tries to be evocative and navigate through a very complex and sometimes contentious literature. I enjoyed writing it, and Bloomsbury have done a wonderful job of production, complete with a color insert (which cost an arm and a leg to include in terms of permissions, but it's worth it.)

Cro-Magnon is the title, largely because it's catchy, although, like so many other things, academically suspect. Cro-Magnon is a rockshelter close to the railroad station at Les Eyzies in southwestern France. It was here that railroad workers uncovered the first skeletons of Cro-Magnons (modern humans) in 1868. There isn't much to see there except a plaque in the shelter, which lies behind housing for the employees of the Çro-Magnon Hotel (strongly recommended, by the way). The correct academic term is "Anatomically Modern Humans", but I think Cro-Magnons is more fun for the lay reader. I am unrepentant: everyone knows what I mean!

The other book-- wait and see: 2011! Meanwhile, I'm trying to learn about Aleutian kayaks...

Archaeology Festival

bfagan1200 — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 02:03:00 GMT

This time the excuses are multiple. I’ve been on two short trips, one to Newport Beach Nautical Museum to give a lecture, the second to talk about ancient emergencies to a hospital group in San Francisco. Both audiences were enthusiastic and pleasant, which makes all the difference. Then I caught a short but nasty cold, which has laid me out for a week.

Fortunately, I’ve recovered just in time to fly to the UK for Current Archaeology’s Archaeology Festival in Cardiff. They asked me to go last year, but I couldn’t make it owing to a conflict, so it’s Cardiff instead of the British Museum. I’m going over a little early to adjust to jet lag, see colleagues in Durham, and, if the weather allows, take a walk on Hadrian’s Wall. I haven’t been there in a decade and certainly not in mid-winter. The forecast is for rain and snow, so we will see.

It’ll be a relief not to be writing for a change. I’ve just delivered the advanced draft of my latest book to my publisher for their detailed editorial comment, so the pressure’s off until they send me their comments for the final version. It’s a book on the Cro-Magnons, a subject that’s fascinated me since I was an undergraduate and was able to see some of the cave paintings by acetylene lamp—a memorable experience. I also visited the original Lascaux, although the replica is absolutely superb. The book is not about art—everyone writes about that—but about the Cro-Magnons as people. Of course the art factors into the story, but there is no much more than cave paintings and artifacts. I guess the book will appear either late this year or early next. Much depends on what the editor says and how long it will take me to revise it. The book was a fascinating and arduous project, involving not only extensive traveling but also a prolonged journey through some of the most intricate and obscure literature I have ever read. Anything will be much easier after this project, but I learned a huge amount.

And now for the legendary hospitality of United Airlines….

The Rush to Headlines

bfagan1200 — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 19:55:00 GMT

The classical archaeologist David Meadows, based, I think, in Canada, does us a wonderful service with his weekly Explorator bulletins that cover discoveries and headlines of the week. (You can subscribe for free by sending a blank e-mail message to Explorator-subscribe@yahoogroups. com) How he locates some of the stories, I know not, but he covers an astonishing range of topics, everything from paleoanthropology to obituaries, looting tourism, and blogs. He keeps me up to date on all kinds of important and more esoteric finds, as well as the hyped claims often put out by well-known academic journals, who should know better. David has a discerning eye and a nice sense of both the ridiculous and the downright zany, as well as a touch of skepticism. This is very much a labour of love, for which we should be very grateful. Did you know that gladiatorial performances are returning to Rome and that warfare practices in New Guinea may throw light on Ohio earthwork design? Thanks to David Meadows, you do now.

The Nature of Paleolithic Art

bfagan1200 — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 02:02:00 GMT

Yes, I have been quiet again, but with good reason. I have been finishing a book manuscript and developing the illustration program, always one of the worst jobs with any book—and archaeology is a picture intensive subject. Add to that the long Christmas break and its distractions. So I have plenty of excuses. Over the holidays, I had a chance to read the paleontologist Dale Guthrie’s magnum opus, The Nature of Paleolithic Art. This is a stupendous work, which draws on Dale’s expertise as a working paleontologist and talented artist. He’s spent a lifetime piecing together bones and other materials to study ancient human behavior and prehistoric environments. His central thesis argues that Cro-Magnon and other Stone Age art is a mode of expression that we can understand much better than we often assume. This is because a natural history perspective is a central part of any interpretation of an art tradition that depicts so many members of the late Ice Age bestiary. The book is really a series of essays that combines ethology, evolutionary biology, and human universals as a way of gaining access to the intangible realm that surrounded the art. Dale shows how the art was created by people of different ages, not just by male shamans, boosting his often-controversial ideas with his own observations in the field. Just the chapter on the so-called Venus figurines is worth the price of admission—the essay on voluptuous women is both insightful and right to the point. Time after time, Dale breaks new ground in what is one of the most important, if controversial, books on Paleolithic art to appear in many years. Doubtless many rock art aficionados will hate it, which is their privilege. But they should not set it aside without a thorough reading, for there is rich treasure in its pages, apart from a great deal of excellent, clear, and often funny writing. You’ll never look at rock art the same way after reading Guthrie.

Early blades?

bfagan1200 — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 02:06:00 GMT

Another long silence, alas. My apologies once again. I’ve been completely preoccupied with finishing the first draft of a book manuscript (of which more in a few months), which is now being disemboweled by experts. I promise more regular blogs in coming weeks.

A momentary distraction came with the announcement of the discovery of tools made with blade technology dating to at least 285,000 years ago. Startling at first glance, especially when you reflect that there is pretty general agreement that Homo sapiens, ourselves, first appeared in tropical Africa about 200,000 years ago. The date, obtained by the argon-argon method, which is far more accurate than the long-established potassium argon technique, comes from Gademotta in Ethiopia’s Rift Valley, known to be a crucible of human evolution. It coincides remarkably well with a second site, Kapthurin in Kenya, which dates to about the same time.

Both Gademotta and Kapthurin have yielded small and sophisticated blades and spear points, very different from the large hand axes and cleaving tools so widely used in Africa at the time. The Gademotta tools are made from obsidian, a fine-grained volcanic glass and come from below and above a volcanic layer, which yielded the date of 280,000 years ago.

For generations, archaeologists have equated stone technologies based on small, basically parallel-sided blades with modern humans. They’ve found them in Southern Africa dating to around 70,000 years ago, where such tools appear and disappear, as if the technology was used, then abandoned, perhaps in response to changing environmental conditions, notably drought. Now what is claimed to be blade technology dates back thousands of years earlier. What does this mean in human terms? Did the cognitive skills associated with modern humans develop gradually over a long period of time, or are these artifacts temporary developments, reflecting times of experimentation or purely local needs, or even the availability of exceptionally find raw materials?

We don’t know, of course, but it’s clear from Gademotta and Kapthurin that the development of modern humans both culturally and biologically was more complicated than perhaps we realize.

And so the archaeological dance goes on. . . .

Northern peoples

bfagan1200 — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 21:28:00 GMT

I’ve gotten interested inEskimo and Inuit ethnography, in some of the early accounts of hunting in someof the harshest environments on earth. What got me on this journey was a visitto the museum in Anchorage, which boasts of a magnificent display of Aleut andEskimo material culture. Anoraks made of bird membrane and seal stomach bags gotme into a quest for truly authentic accounts of hunting in the north and,almost immediately, to two books written by anthropologist Richard Nelson. His Hunters of the Northern Ice, publishedin 1969, is a study of Alaska’s Wainwright Eskimos at a time when manytraditional behaviors, hunting methods, and technologies were still in use. Hisessay on the qualities displayed by the hunter—collaboration, estimating risk, passingon information, and so on, go far beyond the sterile accounts of northernartifacts that you encounter in the works of earlier anthropologists likeCornelius Osgood. Osgood describes spears and awls, traps and houses, but yourarely get a sense of the people behind the artifacts. His books are like manymuseum displays—sterile and devoid of interest to anyone but a fellowspecialist. Even the people themselves would have had trouble deciphering his drearycatalogs. In Nelson’s study, the people and their frustrations, their successesand failures, come alive in a way that illuminates both present and pastbrilliantly.

He did a later studyof the Koyukon of the boreal forest, which is equally perceptive , as itrevolves around their world view. He describes how they would talk to bears asthey hunted them, of the great dependence of the people on caribou, of the traditionalpractices and beliefs that still were at the core of society.

Read Nelson and theclassic works of Farley Mowet. You’ll emerge with a profound appreciation ofthe skill and ingenuity of historic northerners. Not as sterile objects ofstudy, but as human beings. And where else will you learn that the best hidefor boot uppers comes from caribou legs?

I'm back...

bfagan1200 — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 21:13:00 GMT

Yes, I know, I know—too longsince I last blogged! All I can plead is an excuse is travel, a great deal ofit, and impending book deadlines. The fall is usually very busy with lecturesand other commitments on the road, this time to a wide variety oforganizations. These included a faculty retreat at Columbia Community Collegein Pasco, Washington, lectures to National Geographic and the SacramentoArchaeological Society, and to a conference of hospital administratorsresponsible for emergencies. All this time on the road culminated in a superbvisit to the University of Western Ontario at London, Ontario. Apart fromgiving a public lecture, I was corralled into answering questions about The Little Ice Age from amultidisciplinary group of graduate students for two-and-a-half hours. Theyasked perceptive and sometimes humbling questions. I realized once again howlittle I know about climatic and environmental issues.

Why a conference onemergencies you may well ask? This is actually the fourth time I’ve lectured tosuch groups and was the question I asked first time. The answer they gave wasthat human nature has not changed and that responses to emergencies in humanterms have probably remained the same. When I looked into it, indeed they had.Decisive leadership, controlling borders, rationing food, and the importance ofkin and family all resonated from history, issues as important then as they aretoday.

On this subject, if youhave not read Mike Davis’s Late VictorianHolocausts, with its harrowing descriptions of 19^th-centurytropical famines caused by monsoon failure and inept governance, do so. Davisestimates that between 20 and 30 milliontropical farmers perished of famine and famine related diseases during the nineteenthcentury—and that at a time when there were many fewer people living onagriculturally marginal lands. You’ll never think the same way about famineagain.

Something to think about inan era of impending drought and global warming.

Doing nothing, Franklin, and Global Warming

bfagan1200 — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 23:21:00 GMT

Yes, it's been a while. I got bogged down in manuscript revisions, then went on vacation and did nothing for ten days, which was absolutely wonderful. Now I'm back, trying to gather up the reins for what promises to be a very busy year. Anyhow, my apologies for the long silence. I have resolutely not been thinking about archaeology and the past for a few weeks, which was most refreshing. In fact, my greatest contribution to life today has been to wash two of the walls of our house, which were filthy. Now it's time to get down to the next big project.

Catching up with things, I came across a story about the Canadian Government sponsoring yet another search for Sir John Franklin's ships in the Arctic. Franklin perished aboard ship off King William Island in 1848. By then, his two ships, the Erebus and Terror, had been trapped in pack ice for two years. The survivors abandoned them, attempted to drag a ship's boat overland, and perished. In all, 129 men lost their lives in the tragedy. Numerous attempts have been made to locate the ships, so far without success. The Canadian forensic anthropologist Owen Beattie investigated some graves on King William Island in the 1980s and exhumed three burials, among them the well preserved body of Petty Officer John Torrington. Beattie believes that lead poisoning from canned foods may have been an important factor in many deaths.

Now the search for the ships is to resume, this time with the help not only of Inuit oral traditions that were recorded in 1923, to the effect that a deserted ship with numerous dead men aboard lay off the coast of King William Island, but with the very latest search technology. The expedition involves a Canadian icebreaker, sonar equipment, and several years of thorough search under official government sponsorship.

Why is Ottawa suddenly interested in a virtually forgotten tragedy? Because global warming has made much of the Northwest Passage more accessible in summer, there are good reasons for Canada to protect her sovereignty claims in the High Arctic. Oil, minerals, and natural gas are, as usual, the drivers in an area where Canada claims sovereignty and others, including the United States and Britain, dispute it. Until now, the Canadians have done little to maintain a strong presence in the north. Thanks to what is turning out to have been a convenient, but obviously regrettable, tragedy a century and a half ago, that's about to change.

Lofoten's rolling hills

bfagan1200 — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 19:53:00 GMT

My apologies for thesilence. I’ve been too busy bicycling to blog. The Lofotens were spectacularand we were blessed with superb weather on all but one of the six days. Onewore layers as protection against the fiendish cold winds, the bicyclist’scurse. Except for the headwinds, the riding was fabulous—windy roads androlling terrain—what our leaders euphemistically called “rolling hills” whenthey were often small mountains. The islands were once a remote place where codwere harvested in winter, dried in spring and early summer, and then exportedin a trade that goes back to medieval times. Gadus morhua was the Norse beef jerky: we tried it and I loved it.The fishing villages still exist, but have been sanitized by modernity. Theweather beaten fishing cabins have now become summer homes and hotels—we sleptin bunk beds in modernized cabins that were simple, yet adequate enough to cooka feast for eight people. Despite the modernization, the cod industry is stillaround you. Gone are the small double-ended boats of yesteryear, but woodendiesel powered fishing craft are still commonplace. Stark, empty cod racksstand on exposed outcrops, ready for next year’s catch. And several museumstell the story of cod fishing, with techniques that are almost unchanged frommedieval times-except for the boats. They are wonderful rummage warehouses ofsimple technologies that survived until the middle of the last century,sometimes even later. We were able to go behind the scenes at the restoredfishing village of Nusafjord, wherewe saw piles of equipment abandoned from earlier times, also stacks of cod fromthis year’s harvest waiting to be shipped out. Everywhere sticklike carcasses,light as feathers that you could throw across the room without damage, gradedaccording to criteria set up centuries ago. It’s heartening to see theexpertise of the past still being used today.

Off to the Arctic Circle . . .

bfagan1200 — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 19:52:00 GMT

The flight from LA toLondon seems interminable, especially if you’re used to the routine. Take off,a drink, dinner, try to sleep, a bleary-eyed breakfast an hour out of Heathrow,then jet lag to stagger creation. Sometimes the aftermath is almost surrealist.I remember landing years ago early one summer morning, renting a car, thendriving some two hours later down a narrow country land on a gorgeous June morning. The transition was so bizarre, so extreme, that I burst out laughing at the sheer joy of life. They say that travel wears thin with age and I tendto agree, having had a surfeit of business travel over the past year. But thereare magical moments and I hope this trip will have plenty of them.

A rare journey thisone, devoted to entirely to pleasure. Three days in England in Aldeburgh,Suffolk, on the East Coast, seeing friends and (trying) to overcome jet lag.Tomorrow will bring the pleasure of a highly technical conversation aboutweather helm in a Caledonia Yawl with a yacht designer friend and dinner withsome old African acquaintances of more years ago then I care to remember. Thenon to Oslo, and the highlight—5 ½ days bicycling in Norway’s Lofoten Islands,north of the Arctic Circle.

Why the LofotenIslands, people have asked? I’m tempted to respond with the classic “becausethey are there,” but the real reason I want to see them is because of cod. Someyears ago, I traveled extensively for my book Fish on Friday, but the one place I couldn’t get to was theLofotens. They were just too far off the beaten track and my research budgetwas limited. For centuries, the islands were a mainstay of the medieval codtrade. The Norse ate dried Lofoten cod on their journeys to Iceland andbeyond—the beef jerky of the day. The islanders caught thousands of fish fromopen boats in mid-winter and dried them on wooden racks in the cold spring sunand wind. They still catch cod and sell it abroad, even the fish heads, whichare delicacy in Nigeria. So there’s lots of cod racks to see, even if most ofthe drying is finished for this year. When I learned that Backroads, the Berkeley-basedbike touring company, run two trips a year to the islands, I grabbed at thechance to go.

So here I am inmid-Atlantic, wishing the flight was over, but excited that the adventure hasbegun. Only 1 hour 55 minutes to go until that most ghastly ofexperiences—Heathrow airport at 7.15am!

Abri Pataud

bfagan1200 — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 17:05:00 GMT

LesEyzies in southwestern France bills itself as the Capital of Prehistory, whichis hardly surprising, given the extraordinary diversity of late Ice Age sitesin the Vezère river valley. But I would hardly describe the village itself asan attractive one, except for its setting, nestled under precipitous, riversidecliffs. The main street is a strip of restaurants, gift shops, and boasts ofpay parking (on weekdays). Of course, there’s the Les Eyzies Museum, which ismagnificent if you want an intensive education in Stone Age technology. There’salso a small store at the other end of the street where, if you are lucky, you’llfind a modern-day flintknapper in action and can buy a finely crafted Solutreanpoint, which the French describe elegantly as a laurel leaf, a feuille delaurier. Apart from the well-known caves like Font de Gaume and LesCombarelles, there’s also Abri Pataud, conveniently located on the main street.(And, by the way, you can always walk to the Cro-Magnon Hotel, enjoy a nicemeal, and visit the Cro-Magnon rockshelter behind the employees’ houses. Allyou’ll see is a plaque, but you will have paid homage at the shrine . . . .).

AbiPataud is named after the Pataud family, who owned it until the late HallamMovius of Harvard University purchased the site in 1948. From 1958 to 1964, heexcavated the rockshelter in a series of long field seasons that set newstandards for cave excavation, using the Pataud toolshed as a workshop.Fortunately, the excavations are still open for the inquisitive visitor,complete with the network of iron pipes used as a permanent site recordingsystem. A visit to the dig with its closely packed layers and large bouldersfrom the roof is a quick education in the intricacies of excavation onCro-Magnon sites. Hearths appear as compressed, dark layers of charcoal. Flinttools protrude from the walls of the trenches, varying in density from onelayer to the next. Abri Pataud is a magnificent record of Aurignacian andGravettian occupation, spanning a long period between about 32,000 and 20,500years ago. Pataud was one of the first late Ice Age rockshelters to beradiocarbon dated thoroughly. Students are still analyzing the huge quantitiesof animal bones and stone tools found in the excavations. A generation of PhDshave come from the Movius excavations.

AbriPataud is well worth a visit, not only to see the dense sequence of narrowlayers and the museum with its ibex in low relief on the low ceiling, but alsoto ponder the staggering difficulties involved in deciphering life during thelate Ice Age. All credit to the French Government for opening the site tovisitors in 1990. More than any other site near Les Eyzies, it offers a glimpseinto life in one of the most densely occupied areas of Ice Age Europe when Homo sapiens in the form of theCro-Magnons was still a relatively newcomer, and, for some time, handfuls ofNeanderthals still lurked in remote valleys nearby.

Lascaux II

bfagan1200 — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 06:08:00 GMT

Life is full of dramaticcontrasts, none more fascinating than dealing with Indiana Jones one week andvisiting Les Eyzies in the Dordogne during the next. I spent three days there,surviving comfortably with my execrable French and visiting as many sites as Icould, including the excavation at Abri Pataud and Font de Gaume. The paintingsseemed more faded than they were when I was last there nearly years ago, whichgave a visit to Lascaux II a peculiar fascination.

I was lucky enoughto see the original in the late 1950s before it was closed to visitors—andrightly so, too. Now the tourist visits Lascaux II instead, a replica thatencompasses over 90% of the paintings in the cave. Situated only about 200meters (650 feet) from the original, the copy is, quite simply, a masterpiece,which has deservedly become a smash hit with tourists. It was pouring with rainthe day I visited. However, the tours, which you book ahead of time—it’s easyto do—were fully subscribed. The chambers are an exact copy of the originals,rock faces and all, are light softly, but give you a far better impression ofthe paintings than the originals. Why, I don’t know, but you seem to get abetter overall impression of the friezes of horses and huge bulls, the fearsomeBos primigenius, the aurochs. Therewas a sense of movement I had never noticed before, partly because my memoriesof the original visit have faded, but also because I looked at the paintings asa whole as a time. Was it better than the original. For 95% or more of visitors,I could say as good if not better, for they not only get a very accurateimpression of the original, but also feel good when they leave, as they havecontributed to the long-term preservation of what has quite rightly been calleda “Sistine Chapel” of Stone Age art. About the only people who really need tosee the original are rock art specialists, and even they should only go therewhen they have to.

Replicas aredefinitely an idea whose time has come—at Altamira and Niaux, and one wondersif the French will invest the money to create a replica of the Grotte deChauvet, once the study of it is complete. No tourist will ever set foot in thecave, but, judging from Lascaux, a Chauvet replica would be good investment.

By the way, if youwant to see a reconstituted aurochs, visit the Le Thon Cro-Magnon park, orexperience, depending on how you feel about it. There are a couple ofreconstructions of Cro-Magnon life and more Lascaux copies, but the big appealis the park with its animals that are close relatives to late Ice Age forms. Bos primigenius became extinct in Poland in 1627, butfortunately a close approximation of the breed has been bred—nice lookingbeasts with magnificent horns that are said to be fierce and lively. Theylooked like domestic oxen to me, but I wouldn’t like to get up close and personwith the adult male that stared at me! My respect for the Cro-Magnons (oranatomically modern humans if you prefer), rose many notches.

Indiana Jones - - - again

bfagan1200 — Wed, 21 May 2008 03:18:23 GMT

He's back! Nineteen years after the Last Crusade, Indiana Jones has returned in the adventure of the Crystal Skull. Fortunately, I'm no longer teaching: back in 1981, a kind of hysteria for archaeology gripped my students. I knew the Indiana Jones frenzy had assumed serious dimensions when students cameto my Introductory Archaeology course in fedora hats. I think they expected meto wield a bullwhip and wear a leather jacket as I lectured about buried citiesand golden sepulchers. Unfortunately, Indiana Jones would not fare well in thereal world of archaeology, where we talk about radiocarbon dates, potsherds, and settlement patterns. Most of those who wore the hats dropped out: presumably they are now real estate developers--or in jail. (Yes, dear reader, I do have some former students who are guests of the government.) Even today, after all these years, I sometimes sense that lecture audiences are looking at me appraisingly and weighing me against this most popular of Hollywood heroes. After a few minutes, I sense I'm found wanting. And when the Wall Street Journal asked me to write an essay about Indiana Jones as an archaeologist, I really wondered.

When the movies first appeared, there was the inevitable pontificating in archaeological circles about the appalling misconceptions that Indiana Jones gave the world about archaeology. Those who bloviated missed the point. As the Oxford archaeologist John Gowlett once remarked, looking for serious archaeology in these movies is like looking for serious physics in the Star Wars epics. The Indiana Jones movies have little or nothing to do with archaeology of any kind. They are good, old fashioned, and highly commercial, adventure stories revolving around quests for mythic artifacts, which are pure Hollywood entertainment, nothing more. And they're good entertainment at that, except for the Temple of Doom, which is a sophomoric romp. The closest we come to archaeological reality is with the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, which revolves around a form of artifact that actually exists. There are about eight crystal skulls in museums and private hands, which are said to be of Aztec or Maya origin. In fact, all of them are modern forgeries. But, and this is probably why George Lucas chose them as an example, they are alleged to have occult powers. One skull in England is said to emit a blue light and to disable computer hard drives. They are the ideal heroes for a movie involving a quest for power and sacred artifacts, with a pleasing mixture of sci-fi and psychic powers, to say nothing of extraterrestrials, all of which appeals to George Lucas. I thoroughly enjoyed The Crystal Skull, especially the sword work and the library scene, where Indiana Jones memorably remarks to a student that archaeology is done outside libraries and quotes Gordon Childe almost as an aside. But serious archaeology, never. This is good solid entertainment, with a nice setup for a future younger Indiana Jones tied in at the end.

Anyone who thinks that the Indiana Jones movies demean archaeology needs to get a sense of proportion and, indeed, a life. The four films have done much to encourage interest in the past, and anyone who looks closer soon realizes that real world archaeology is something very different. Lucas and Spielberg are well aware of the importance of archaeology in today's world, which indeed has potential for entertainment, but a very different kind from that of the swashbuckling adventurer archaeologist of yesteryear. As for Harrison Ford, he is very serious about the need to study the past scientifically. Indeed, he has just been elected to the Board of the Archaeological Institute of America, which is a nice compliment both to Mr Ford and to archaeology itself.

So sit back and enjoy The Crystal Skull and don't worry about the archaeology. That's another world, and one that, on the whole, has benefited from Indiana Jones.