Michael Balter. 2004. The Goddess and the Bull. Çatalhöyük: An Archaeological Journey to the Dawn of Civilization. With illustrations by John-Gordon Swogger. 338 pages, endnotes, bibliography, and index. Free Press, New York.
Çatalhöyük: An Archaeological Journey to the Dawn of Civilization.
This much is clear: the archaeological site of Çatalhöyük is about community. About 9,500 years ago, a group of between 3500 and 8000 people decided to live together on the Konya plains of Turkey. They chose a place which wasn't close to arable land, or suitable forest, or suitable land for grazing, but near a wetland, perhaps a lake. They dry-farmed crops (emmer wheat, lentils, barley) from at least 7 miles away; they used animal dung for fuel. They domesticated and took care of goats, sheep, and cattle.
The families at Çatalhöyük apparently built and maintained their own separate rooms within the 32-acre complex built of mud brick and wood. But the community shared several basic rituals along with adjoining walls: they buried their dead beneath the floors, they plastered walls and floors repeatedly, they decorated their walls with geometric paintings and the horns of bulls. They made clay and stone figurines in the shapes of fat ladies and unidentifiable animals. But mostly, they lived together for nearly 1,000 years, building new when the population grew; burning old when conditions warranted.
The families at Çatalhöyük apparently built and maintained their own separate rooms within the 32-acre complex built of mud brick and wood. But the community shared several basic rituals along with adjoining walls: they buried their dead beneath the floors, they plastered walls and floors repeatedly, they decorated their walls with geometric paintings and the horns of bulls. They made clay and stone figurines in the shapes of fat ladies and unidentifiable animals. But mostly, they lived together for nearly 1,000 years, building new when the population grew; burning old when conditions warranted.
Science writer Michael Balter's book on the excavations at Çatalhöyük may be seen primarily as a biography: of the site, of the site excavators, of the site's story as it has grown and changed throughout the years. A detailed but in the end sympathetic discussion of the problematic research and nature of the man who discovered the site, James Mellaart, is provided; mostly as context for the work to be undertaken beginning in 1987 by Ian Hodder, previously known primarily for his theoretical work. It's clear the sympathy comes directly from Hodder.
The comparison of attitudes and techniques and, I guess the word is gestalt between Mellaart and Hodder is a fascinating glimpse into the sea change that has occurred in archaeology between the time of the original investigations in the mid-20th century to those at the end of the century.
The comparison of attitudes and techniques and, I guess the word is gestalt between Mellaart and Hodder is a fascinating glimpse into the sea change that has occurred in archaeology between the time of the original investigations in the mid-20th century to those at the end of the century.
But ultimately, the real content and context of The Goddess and the Bull is the community of archaeologists. People come and go, ideas change, and research topics are built and discarded and built again. People are differentially affected by working on the site, surely a great honor and responsibility at the same time. It is an effective (or maybe affective is a better word) comparison between the unknowable social context of the remote past with the recognizable dreams and difficulties of living in a modern political and social world.
I was surprised by the Goddess and the Bull; but I probably shouldn't have been. If one of the purposes of post-processual archaeology is to explore all the avenues of knowing, then by extension, the process of understanding an archaeological site has to include personal biographies of the excavators. If we are not explicitly part of the process, then we are omitted from it.
There are very few archaeologists who get to spend time at Çatalhöyük, at least compared to the hordes of us who exist in the field. It is an enlightening experience to read Balter's book about how one goes about excavating what is arguably one of the most important archaeological sites on the planet.
I was surprised by the Goddess and the Bull; but I probably shouldn't have been. If one of the purposes of post-processual archaeology is to explore all the avenues of knowing, then by extension, the process of understanding an archaeological site has to include personal biographies of the excavators. If we are not explicitly part of the process, then we are omitted from it.
There are very few archaeologists who get to spend time at Çatalhöyük, at least compared to the hordes of us who exist in the field. It is an enlightening experience to read Balter's book about how one goes about excavating what is arguably one of the most important archaeological sites on the planet.
