Michael Shanks. The archaeological imagination.
Daniels, Stephen
MICHAEL SHANKS. The archaeological imagination. 168 pages, 25
illustrations. 2012. Walnut Creek (CA): Left Coast; 978-1-59874-361-6
hardback; 978-159874-362-3 paperback $21.50; 978-1-61132-784-7 e-book.
This short, provocative book extends an expanding field of enquiry,
studies of the wider discourse of archaeology, before and beyond its
formalisation as a professional, academic discipline. "We are all
archaeologists now" runs the title of the first chapter of The
archaeological imagination which is a fair reflection of how archaeology
has expanded as an academic term, to encompass a whole range of cultural
issues which appear in this book: memory, landscape, narrative, ruins,
relics, personal experience, liminality, peripherality, walking,
haunting. The range of archaeology includes this author's
encounters in telling us of his own career: geography, literary and art
history, performance, cultural and media studies, and those versions of
cultural theory which operate with stratigraphic depth models of
knowledge and meaning.
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Given this range, it is not surprising that it is unclear what the
intended readership of this book is, its three parts pulling in many
directions. Much of the first and third chapters, and odd passages of
the second, seem to be directed at an Impressionable if Inattentive American Student, full of blog-speak theoretical gestures, personal
anecdotes, and puzzling anachronisms, including website references to
Dad's Army, the X-Files, with Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire,
introduced as "the subject of the movie of 2008". Inside this
framing, a substantial, and still innovative, book is struggling to get
out.
The book's second, most scholarly chapter investigates
varieties of eighteenth-century antiquarianism, and in a particular
region, the Borders of Scotland and England. Shanks charts the
archaeological imagination in nine "sets of scenarios",
elicited from a series of texts on the Borders. He shows how these
texts, and some of their illustrations, perform the past, whether in a
staged, theatrical way, or in forms of practice which are based on
greater insider knowledge and experience of the region. The writings
range in register from fact to fiction, and in genre from history to
poetry. Moreover they range geographically, not just in what they are
about, but where they are written from, culturally and physically,
notably Newcastle and Edinburgh, and more specifically that literary
region fashioned from an antiquarian Borders country house, Abbotsford,
'Scott-land'.
Some of Sir Walter Scott's historical and literary writings
are the key cultural texts of The archaeological imagination, and the
sixteenth-century phrase Scott popularised, 'Debatable Lands',
provides the title of this chapter. In Scott's own time the term
came to mean disputatious intellectual as well as material territory,
and it is a term that has enjoyed a new life in studies of the Romantic
period, as part of Border Studies more generally, in an age when
devolution and independence are being fiercely debated, although
curiously, in a book intent on connecting past and present, Shanks makes
little or nothing of this political context.
The book's alignment with the aesthetically experimental but
politically conservative writings of Scott is perhaps not surprising in
a book suspicious of straight ahead, Whiggish versions of the
archaeological imagination, whether at the time or since, say in the
writings of Stuart Piggott. The attractions of Scott's
wide-ranging, Romantic antiquarian imagination are evident, in long
quotations from his long poem Marmion (1808) with its "numerous
digressions and anecdotes and what often seem to be pointless
incidents" (a characteristic of The archaeolagical imagination
too). Scott relished telling, or re-telling, stories of the Border
conflicts bur he regarded the union of the two Crowns as a precondition
for envisioning the Borders as a region of antiquarian enquiry. Scott is
valued in this book for writing as a regional insider and for mobilising
a range of discourses, vernacular, satirical and so on. But in a book
which is quick to spot the colonial and aristocratic sources of
authority of another writer, William Gell, we should perhaps note those
of Scott: "inhabitant, magistrate, popular writer, collector,
landowner, Member of the local yeomanry, literary antiquarian,
witness". To be sure these are multiple roles, but still
performatively Tory 'acts of union'. This chapter provoked me
to read the works of the writer Shanks sets up as Scott's
antithesis, his friend William Gell, in an excursion from its Borders
focus to Gell's writings on the Classical world. Gell is seen by
Shanks to have a conventionally topographical rather than creatively
topological imagination, meaning he took a largely detached,
observational, factual, pictorial view of landscapes as opposed to the
spatial 'folding' of time, place and people in Scott's
works. This I reckon misrepresents Gell as a man of reason not
imagination and the complexity of his writing and image making.
Principally through the work of Sam Smiles, we now appreciate the scope
and complication of documentary delineation, in words and pictures at
this time, finding the spatialities, even topologies, of maps, diagrams,
panoramas, vignettes and coastal profiles.
One of the powers of Gell's books is how laconic they are, as
records of cultural encounters, of travelling experience as well as of
places. And this goes for his account of Scott's visit to Pompeii,
late in life, which is a great comic set piece, in which both friends
played their part: "we succeeded in getting Sir Walter placed upon
a heap of ruins, whence he might see the remains of the Temple of
Serapis. His observation was, that we might tell him anything, and he
would believe it all."
STEPHEN DANIELS
School of Geography, University of Nottingham, UK
(Email: Stephen.Daniels@nottingham.ac.uk)