Hunting for clues in the Palaeolithic.

Bahn, Paul

ISABELLE SIDERA with EMMANUELLE VILA & PHILLIPPE ERIKSON (ed.). La chasse: pratiques sociales et symboliques (Colloques de la Maison Rene-Ginouves). xiv+266 pages, 87 illustrations. 2006. Paris: De Boccard; 2-7018-0192-3 paperback.

SOPHIE A. DE BEAUNE (ed.). Chasseurs-cueilleurs: Comment vivaient nos ancetres du Paleolithique superieur, viii+294 pages, 41 illustrations, 3 tables. 2007. Paris: CNRS; 978-2-271-06509-4 paperback 23 [euro].

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Despite the presence of 'chasse' in their titles, these books have very little in common, although both represent the acts of conferences held in France in recent years. The first is primarily anthropological in content, while the second focuses on prehistory and archaeology.

The practice of hunting

The first epithet that comes to mind on reading La chasse is 'pretentious' because of its over-use of the word cynegetique, when a simple 'de la chasse' would often suffice. This term is certainly etymologically correct, but persistent and unnecessary use of this current buzz-word of French anthropology grates; in decades of reading texts on French prehistory I have rarely encountered it (and indeed it is almost absent from the second, more archaeological volume that concerns us here).

Sidera's collection stems from a multidisciplinary seminar held in Paris; convened to examine the techniques and social practices of hunting, it also found itself covering ideological, symbolic and iconographic aspects. Consequently, this is a miscellany of articles that ranges so widely in space, time and subject matter that hunting is really the only linking thread.

The few papers of direct interest to the archaeologist concern the material remains of hunting practices, and depictions of hunting in rock art or in other forms of art such as Assyrian reliefs. Collectively they raise all kinds of basic questions about the practice in ancient times. For example, in the Palaeolithic, and especially the early Palaeolithic, one needs to ascertain which of the material remains were produced by humans and which by carnivores. The interpretative pendulum has now swung back from the old Binfordian position that there was little hunting but primarily scavenging before the Upper Palaeolithic--one need only call to mind the solid evidence of hunting from Boxgrove-and here we are given evidence by Celine Bemilli from the French site of Soucy for definite hunting in the Lower Palaeolithic.

Where hunting clearly exists, many other questions arise: was it collective or individual, was it aimed at single animals or herds, was it seasonal or year-round, and was it aimed at killing animals or capturing them? Was it purely utilitarian or sometimes ritualised? In later periods, was it carried out for subsistence or for commerce (i.e. trade) or for sport? Archaeology is often incapable of answering these questions, particularly for periods without written records. In many cases, we do not even know whether artefacts such as arrowheads were weapons of war or of hunting or both. In addition, some hunting techniques (such as traps) leave no archaeological trace, while the butchery of animals does not always leave marks on bones (some muscles are very thick).

Many scholars turn to iconography for answers, but even here the evidence can be lacking or ambiguous: for example, in the wealth of art from the Upper Palaeolithic--the age of hunter-gatherers par excellence--we do not have a single clear hunting scene. Traditionally, the Levantine art of eastern Spain was seen as Mesolithic in date because it was full of clear scenes of hunting deer and boar; but discoveries over the past couple of decades have shown that much of it was produced in the Neolithic and even later, underlining the fact that depiction of hunting does not necessarily mean it was the subsistence base of the culture in question. As shown by studies in this book, apparent hunting scenes in rock art (such as those from Armenia or Jordan) tell us very little, while many hunting scenes in the art of Egypt, Assyria or various Aegean cultures are very probably symbolic in nature, or depict sport, rather than a straightforward representation of a subsistence activity.

What this book does contribute to the study of this widespread, highly varied and often very dangerous activity is a series of anthropological studies from recent or present-day societies; these offer some food for thought in terms of practices or beliefs that could conceivably be applicable to some ancient hunting societies. For example, even in cultures where hunting is no longer of any economic importance, it can still play a crucial role in male initiation, as a prestige activity which turns boys into virile killers of big game. In many societies it reflects social hierarchy, with only nobles taking part; in others--such as some Saharan and Arabian peoples presented here by Catherine Baroin--hunters are now small minorities of low-status endogamous specialists who are often linked to various crafts and to music-making. In parts of Mall and Ivory Coast, as presented by Agnes Kedzierska, hunters undergo an apprenticeship, under a master, and assume a position of great importance in society, being also linked with divination and healing, and the protection of villages. In a particularly interesting study, Daniele Dehouve finds some fascinating similarities between modern Amerindians of Central Mexico and some Siberian hunters, in the concept of a 'master of the animals': this involves seeking (through offerings) this spirit's authorisation to kill game, fasting and sexual abstinence before the hunt. The prey is not tracked and killed, but rather offers itself to the hunter on the orders of the 'master of animals'.

Food for thought is all very well, but how can the archaeologist possibly find clues to any of the above? This question links the two books under review and forms the main focus of the second title under consideration.

Reconstructing the life of hunter-gatherers

Chasseurs-cueilleurs (hunter-gatherers) is the result of a conference held in Lyon in 2005. Its specific aim was to mark time in Upper Palaeolithic studies, to pause in the rapid progress that has been achieved in investigation of this period, to evaluate the path that research has travelled and to assess the approaches of prehistorians. All of the authors were asked not to present data, but rather to consider the intellectual processes involved in passing from material remains to the reconstruction of people's lives. It was hoped that something fundamental, a new view of aims and methods, would emerge. The preface claims that the book explores new avenues to reconstructing the prehistoric past.

Does the book live up to these aspirations? Alas, no. Having read it from cover to cover, I found absolutely nothing new. There are certainly some excellent and highly competent accounts of different ways of dealing with Upper Palaeolithic vestiges, but anyone with a degree of knowledge of the period will find all of the methods and approaches very familiar. Inevitably, and justifiably, the book begins with an account of Andre Leroi-Gourhan's extraordinary career; it charts his progress from ethnology to prehistory, and his pioneering approach to the Upper Palaeolithic, in particular through horizontal excavations, the establishment of refitting techniques and the concept of the chaine aperatoire. The influence of this major figure cannot be overestimated, especially in France, and his work clearly inspired many of the contributors to this volume, and the methods they espouse.

The book then turns to papers dealing with technology, territory, ritual, and society. Among the most interesting and original is Brian Hayden's attempt to see analogies between some Upper Palaeolithic evidence and the complex societies of America's north-west coast--and hence to see the Palaeolithic groups as similarly hierarchical rather than the idealised egalitarian societies that they have often been assumed to be. But here again, I doubt that many, if any, Upper Palaeolithic specialists today would argue for all-round egalitarianism when there are clearly craft-specialists, prestige objects, extraordinary burials, and so forth.

Where the study of life in the Upper Palaeolithic is concerned, a few authors aspire to achieving some remarkable objectives, such as (p. 158) identifying the nature of the groups who created cave art, their purpose in entering the caves, the strategies used by chiefs to obtain personal and communal advantages, and the existence of confraternities sharing specific interests--but inevitably, and understandably, we are not given the slightest clue as to how they propose to obtain this information.

Most of the authors, more sensibly, point out how very difficult it is to reconstruct many aspects of everyday life, despite the often important contributions of ethnology and experimentation. Most social and symbolic aspects of these societies remain completely inaccessible to the prehistorian. The clearest exponent of this view is Jacques Collina-Girard who stresses how risky it can be to pass from serious archaeological data to ethnological interpretation; hunches become certainties when ethnographic analogy is used without care. It is so tempting to project one's own constructs onto the mute data, and ultimately to invent new myths for the media--in effect, to produce prehistoric novels. We have seen some major and distressing examples of this in cave-art studies in recent years. The final part of the book is in many ways the best and most thought-provoking, since it is here that this problem of presenting Upper Palaeolithic life to the public--in popular books, novels, theme parks--is discussed.

To sum up, like almost all conference volumes, these books are a curate's egg of good, bad and indifferent articles, many of which are actually of little use to the archaeologist. Neither has an index, although this would have been useful, particularly in the anthropological volume. The archaeological book has the abstracts of all its articles, in French and English, collected at the back, whereas it would have made more sense to place them at the start of each paper, as is done in the anthropological volume. And ironically, although the archaeological volume's editor and preface-writer are both prominent female scholars, the cover uses a classic Burian image depicting a somewhat cliched white-bearded male hunter--in other words, plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose!

Paul Bahn, 428 Anlaby Road, Hull HU3 6QP, UK(Email:pgbahn@anlabyrd.karoo.co.uk)