Culture Change and the New Technology: An Archaeology of the Early American Industrial Era.
Johnson, Matthew
It is currently fashionable to call for a 'world historical
archaeology'. Such an archaeology proposes that our concerns must
look at cultural systems from the scale of the local to the global, and
deals primarily with the period after 1450. It is an exciting
development for several reasons. First, it offers the opportunity for
previously rather insular traditions to communicate on a world stage.
Many such calls have come via the forum of the World Archaeological
Congress (Funari et al. forthcoming). Second, many of the themes that
might unite different strands of such a global movement - the 'rise
of capitalism', of the structures of colonial contact and
exploitation, and of the construction of modern identities and modernity
in general - offer an opportunity to build an exciting theoretical base.
These themes do so, moreover, in an area of archaeology whose discourse
has previously been dominated by highly particularist, often
'pre-processual' approaches.
Such themes, of course, have been dealt with before in archaeological
writing, though often implicitly. Most notably, the reworking by Mark
Leone and his students of the archaeology of the Georgian Order has
linked patterning in material culture to the ideologies of mercantile
capitalism (Leone 1988; Shackel 1993). The success of such work, and
that of related North American schools (cf. the studies in McGuire &
Paynter 1991) has meant that until quite recently theoretically aware
and wide-ranging historical archaeology has been synonymous with North
American studies. What is new, then, in the call for a global historical
archaeology is the insistence that they be dealt with on a comparative
and world-wide scale. It is surely no coincidence that this new stress
has gone hand-in-hand with the development of theoretically aware
historical archaeologies in parts of the world other than North America
(Funari et al. forthcoming).
The call to work on such a scale is laudable, but holds a series of
potential tensions in store for the archaeologist proposing to work in
this area. The first is that between global and particular; feel for the
local context might be lost. The second is that between the urge to
write one grand narrative and the argued need for a proliferation of
narratives; in defining historical archaeology around certain themes,
the importance of those themes as structuring principles for research
will be assumed rather than argued through. Other stories about the past
built around other ways of looking at the world are possible and many
archaeologists, this reviewer included, would encourage the development
of these.
These are some of the issues to be tackled in the undoubtedly grand
and certainly courageous new monograph series Contributions to Global
Historical Archaeology, edited by Charles Orser himself. Orser's
Preface to the series states: 'the thrust of the series will be to
explore topical, methodological, and comparative questions in historical
archaeology'. The two books reviewed here perform this task very
well and form an excellent start to the series.
Orser's wide-ranging and ambitious book tackles head-on some of
the problems raised above. He characterizes historical archaeology as
the meeting-place of four 'haunts': those of colonialism,
Eurocentrism, capitalism and modernity. Each is defined and discussed at
some length without unnecessary schematization.
At the same time, the tension between global and local forces is
negotiated skillfully. Orser adopts a 'mutualist' perspective
derived from the work of the anthropologist Michael Carrithers (1992) in
which the focus is on people and their actions rather than culture as an
abstracted entity. It is not clear from Orser's account of
Carrithers what insight is gained by this perspective that we are not
already familiar with through, for example, structuration theory, but
Orser's exposition is clear and convincing nevertheless. He goes on
to explore the interaction between global and local by concentration on
and comparison between two case studies, Palmares in Brazil and
Gorttoose in Ireland. Orser's style is clear and readable, and his
interpretations avoid the more mechanistic feel of some of the studies
in this area.
Orser's criteria for the definition of such an archaeology are
shifting. There is a tension here between time period, method and theme
that is explicitly discussed; Orser comes down in favour of a thematic
approach in which the historical archaeologist studies modern times (p.
28), though this does, he feel, overlap with a temporal definition based
on a post-1492 date. Old World archaeologists will sympathize with
Orser's desire to keep at bay (with apologies to David Clarke) the
murky exhalation that passes for interpretation in much of Classical and
early and high medieval archaeology. They will not, however, wish to
rule these earlier historical periods out entirely. Of Orser's
haunts, colonialism and Eurocentrism are practices that can trace their
genealogies back to the Roman world, as recent exciting work by a
minority of Romanists has pointed out (Webster & Cooper 1996).
It is also impossible to explain many of the enduring structures of
post-medieval landscape and culture without reference back to their
medieval antecedents. Even Michel Foucault traces many of the practices
he sees as constitutive of 'panoptic society' back to the
medieval monasteries. Five centuries is too short a time-frame within
which to consider the origins of the modern world - as Orser himself
implies in his comments on medieval archaeology in the final chapter.
My reservations with this otherwise excellent book lie with
Orser's data. Orser structures much of his discussion around two
places: Palmares, in Brazil, and Gorttoose, in Ireland. I know little of
post-medieval Ireland, but even less of Brazil, so let us concentrate on
the former. There are no references to the tension around
'revisionism' that has existed within Irish historical
scholarship since the 1930s, though this is central to the themes Orser
draws from this secondary literature. Gerry Adams is cited as
representative of Irish nationalism without further comment or
qualification (p. 93). Gorttoose, the centre of Orser's field
project, was spelt inconsistently in the 17th century (p. 91), but it
does not betoken confidence when we find it spelt inconsistently in
Orser's text eight pages later. It would have been difficult for
Gaelic chiefdoms (surely chieftains?) to swear allegiance to Queen
Elizabeth after 1635 (p. 94), as she had been dead for over 30 years by
that date. Orser is still in a different league from, for example, Sir
Roy Strong's recent glossing-over to the point of denial of English
colonialism in Ireland (1996), but if Orser's subalterns want to
really cut the ground from under right-wing elitists like Strong, a
little more subtlety and detail is required.
More serious here is a lurking essentialism that Orser would decry if
deployed in other colonial contexts. A farmer 'embodies rural
Ireland . . . a quiet, deeply religious man . . . he projects a quiet
strength and a deep understanding of the Irish soil' (p. 89). The
Celts are treated as 'the first great conquerors . . . coming in
several waves' (p. 92). Orser appears unaware that the image he
invokes of an emerald isle of 'mysterious bogs, the rolling, green
hills, and the craggy mountains [that] were once free from colonialism,
Eurocentrism, capitalism and modernity' (p. 105) is a complex
creation of Anglo-Irish literature of the 19th century and is thus
itself a highly problematic artefact of colonialism (Cairns &
Richards 1988). Postcolonial archaeology needs to catch up with
postcolonial literary criticism here, it seems.
We encounter the tension between global and local again with Paul
Shackel. Despite its broad title, Shackel's Culture change and the
new technology turns out actually to be an account of a single site: the
town and national armoury at Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. Shackel
reviews the history of Harpers Ferry from its 18th-century origins
through its most famous appearance in history as the location of John
Brown's ill-fated raid in 1859 to the modern creation of the
Harpers Ferry National Park. The story is told clearly and accessibly,
and with some style.
Shackel ties this narrative together with a series of archaeological
investigations, focusing on the topography of the developing settlement
and armoury, the meanings of the 'built landscape', and
excavations of the workers' households. I found the use of
so-called 'environmental data' to be particularly exciting,
enabling Shackel to address the changing appearance of factory and
garden landscapes as well as the diet of worker's households.
Historical archaeology, with its closely defined and dated contexts,
offers a unique opportunity to look beyond 'environment' into
the meanings of things being planted and consumed; Shackel does this
skillfully, drawing instructive contrasts between factory and domestic
landscapes.
Though this is a study of one town, the wider relevance of this study
is great. It is the best example I have read of a theoretically informed
approach to 'industrial archaeology', and as such deserves to
be read by industrial archaeologists everywhere. Most encouraging in
this respect is Shackel's insistence that the archaeology of the
armoury be placed alongside that of the worker's households. This
contextual approach avoids the dryness and sheer distance from everyday
reality that characterizes countless traditional accounts of industrial
techniques - it puts the people back into the Industrial Revolution. As
Shackel comments (p. 144), 'emulation, social separation,
consciously or unconsciously participating in a new industrial culture,
and subscribing to the new Romantic ideal are all variables that need to
be considered' by the archaeologist of the industrial period, not
just the typology of steam turbines.
Shackel's explicitly theoretical approach is to be applauded; I
do have problems, however, with some of the specific theories Shackel
adopts. Shackel discusses Colin Campbell's (1987) thesis of links
between consumerism and the Romantic ethic, and this is a useful
antidote to many of the production-centred theoretical discussions of
the Industrial Revolution in the past. It comes across, however, as a
little shallow; reliance on one sociologist alone does not a new
archaeological movement make. Chandra Mukerji's crucial work on
materialism, for example, is neither referenced nor discussed; nor is
much of the recent literature on consumption beyond the seminal but now
out-of-date McKendrick, Brewer & Plumb (1982). In particular, it is
not clear from Shackel's account that there was actually a
diversity of late 18th- and early 19th-century 'Romanticisms'
with a corresponding diversity of cultural meanings and associated
ethics. I liked the links drawn between landscape and industry (pp.
1069), though they could have been strengthened with reference to
international data, for example the carefully constructed landscape and
architecture of socialist Robert Owen's Utopian project at New
Lanark in Scotland.
There are a number of errors of detail that detract from the overall
picture. I and a number of colleagues searched in vain for the mansard roofs claimed to be in the centre of figure 2, and without a knowledge
of the American Civil War the reader will not be aware that the
Sharpsburg of figure 8 is the same place as the Antietam of p. 45. Weber
did not posit the Protestant Ethic as a 'prime mover of the
industrial consciousness' (p. 12); he explicitly characterized it
as one side of a many-sided causal chain. It isn't clear whether
figure 33, a 'standardised plan for armoury worker's
dwellings', is an abstraction from a 19th-century plan or from
surviving dwellings (if the latter, which ones? how many? etc). There is
no location map that is readily intelligible to a non-American audience,
surely a serious omission in a volume styling itself a 'global
contribution'.
One of the most encouraging aspects of Shackel's book is its
demonstration that theoretically sophisticated and openly controversial
archaeology can be done within the framework of the management structure
of a 'professional' organization such as a National Park.
Historical archaeologists in Europe are more often than not employed in
government organizations and museums rather than enjoying the relative
academic freedom of universities, and this has been one of the
contributing factors to its theoretical conservatism. Shackel is
explicitly critical of past National Park policy, making a refreshing
change from the self-serving accounts that some British organizations
produce from time to time (most notably recent accounts of the National
Trust that are too uncritical to qualify as 'histories' and
the smug response to one recent critique: Weideger 1994). Many times in
the last decade I have had European archaeologists complain privately to
me: 'I'd love to do more exciting things, but my museum/local
authority/English Heritage bosses insist on keeping to a more orthodox
line . . .'. It's a moot point whether the sense of
intellectual liveliness that is present in this book is down to
Shackel's determination to see his vision into print or the
relative liberality and far-sightedness of his employers; probably a
combination of both. The point is that with effort and imagination it
can be done. We have nothing to lose but our chains.
If much of the above discussion seems overly critical of both Shackel
and Orser, it is because they both have the courage to take on some of
the big questions facing historical archaeology. Further, they do so not
just through abstract critique, but through a close linkage between
theory and practice, between wide issues and the minutiae of
archaeological material. In the process of so doing, they raise a series
of contentious theoretical and empirical issues that will not lie down,
and will be sources of productive tension in archaeology for decades to
come. I strongly encourage people to read, and to argue with, these
books and with the series as it develops.
References
CAIRNS, D. & S. RICHARDS. 1988. Writing Ireland: colonialism,
nationalism and culture. Manchester: Manchester University Press.
CAMPBELL, C. 1987. The Romantic ethic and the spirit of modern
consumerism. Oxford: Blackwell.
CARRITHERS, M. 1992. Why humans have cultures: explaining
anthropology and cultural diversity. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
FUNARI, P., M. HALL & S. JONES (ed.). Forthcoming. Back from the
edge: archaeology in history. London: Routledge.
LEONE, M. 1988. The Georgian Order as the order of capitalism in
Annapolis, Maryland, in M. Leone & P. Potter (ed.), The recovery of
meaning in historical archaeology: 235-62. Washington (DC): Smithsonian
Institution.
McGUIRE, R. & R. PAYNTER (ed.). 1991. The archaeology of
inequality. Oxford: Blackwell.
MCKENDRICK, N., J. BREWER & J.H. PLUMB. 1982. The birth of a
consumer society: the commercialisation of 18th-century England. London:
Hutchinson.
SHACKEL, P. 1993. Personal discipline and material culture: an
archaeology of Annapolis, Maryland, 1695-1870. Knoxville (TN):
University of Tennessee Press.
STRONG, R. 1996. The story of Britain. London: Thames & Hudson.
WEBSTER, J. & N. COOPER. 1996. Roman imperialism: post-colonial
perspectives. Leicester: University of Leicester. Leicester Archaeology
Monographs 3.
WEIDEGER, P. 1994. Gilding the acorn: a critical history of the
National Trust. London: Simon & Schuster.