Book Reviews
THE GODDESS AND THE BULL:
ÇATALHÖYÜK: AN ARCHAEOLOGICAL
JOURNEY TO THE DAWN OF CIVILIZATION
Michael Balter
Left Coast Press, Walnut Creek, CA, 2006, xiii+400,
ISBN 1-59874-069-5
Reviewed by Andrew Fairbairn
School of Social Science, University of Queensland, QLD 4072,
Australia
Çatalhöyük is a near legendary Neolithic site in central Turkey
under renewed archaeological investigation since 1993 when Ian
Hodder made it the focus of his practical application of ‘reflexive
archaeology’. In the revised paperback edition of The Goddess
and the Bull, Science correspondent Michael Balter takes the
reader on an entertaining journey through the complex and at
times unbelievable archaeology of the site in its regional context.
As alluded to in its introduction, the book takes the form of an
ambitious biography, weaving together an historical narrative
with the personal histories of many famous, infamous and notso-famous characters that have contributed to Çatalhöyük’s
unlikely status in the popular and professional psyche. At this
point I have to declare an interest – I am one of those not-sofamous characters and while interviewed for the book I was,
thankfully, avoided in Balter’s biographical sections. Jaded by
three years of employment on Hodder’s project, including the
1999 ‘long season’, and with both positive and negative memories
of that time, it took considerable effort to turn the book’s opening
page. I am glad to have done so and now offer this review with a
modicum of ‘insider-knowledge’ and an active research interest
in the Turkish Neolithic.
After starting with an account of his own peculiar and almost
accidental incorporation into the project, Balter’s narrative kicks
off with the story of James Mellaart’s initial work at the site in
the 1960s and ends with a party on the dig-house roof in 2001.
To summarise as briefly as possible, Mellaart discovers and then
excavates a huge Neolithic mound in then archaeologicallyunfashionable central Turkey. He discovers a well-preserved site
of unexpected complexity, replete with beautiful and unique
artwork, figurines and numerous human burials beneath the
floors of its densely-packed houses. Fame is assured as he reveals
his stunning finds and claims the site as the earliest known city,
turning accepted knowledge on its head. He is then ejected from
Turkey after the theft and sale of artefacts by some workmen and
his involvement in the Dorak Affair – involving, and I assure you
this is not made up, a mysterious woman on a train and equally
mysterious treasure. Even in mothballs, Çatalhöyük becomes
ever more well-known as a result of Mellaart’s voracious appetite
for publicity, including publication of controversial ‘kilim’ wall
paintings, the site’s appropriation by Gimbutas-inspired Mother
Goddess worshippers and, not to be forgotten, the archaeological
importance of the finds. Though further archaeological research
eventually shows Çatalhöyük to be but one element of a regional
Neolithic sequence with local antecedants, the concentration of
artwork in its middle levels remains unparalleled. Cut to 28 years
later, Ian Hodder unexpectedly becomes the person to reopen the
site and starts a 25-year project that rapidly becomes one of the
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most high profile and largest research excavations on earth with
a cast of thousands. Hodder aims to test Mellaart’s conclusions
and go beyond the crude empiricism of the ‘New Archaeology’
(i.e. science-based archaeology emerging in the 1960s and
1970s) to develop his own brand of contextual archaeology. The
project also allows Hodder to investigate further the Neolithic
phenomenon, this time in the excavation trench rather than
the armchair, and address one of the key questions of human
existence, as phrased in a Science piece by Balter (1998): ‘Why
settle down? The mystery of communities’.
Balter’s chronological narrative is peppered with biographies
of key characters in the Çatalhöyük story, including many of
the archaeologists who have contributed their labour to its
investigation. There is a natural focus on researchers with a
long presence at the site and those, such as Greek charcoal
analyst Eleni Asouti, whose presence transcends geopolitical
expectations. The most enjoyable and relevant accounts are of
Mellaart and Hodder; I have to admit that I tired of some others
towards the end of the book and wondered whether some of the
personal details were necessary. Mostly, the biographies were an
effective means of illuminating parts of the story, the detail of
archaeological techniques, the excitement and plain hard work
involved in discovery and the personal drive behind many of the
characters leading to their appearance at Çatalhöyük. Having
experienced Mellaart’s final years as a lecturer, including those
slides of the Dorak treasure and ‘new’ wall paintings, I could
understand Hodder’s fascination with both the man and the site.
The biographical approach also allowed a textured understanding
of life at the excavation itself; its highs and lows and many
tensions. Craig Cessford’s thoughts on the arrival of the main
dig team midway through the 1999 long season (p.269) mirrored
my own exactly. Many specialist techniques are also effortlessly
explained via personal experience and occasional wry comment,
giving a rich representation of the frantic and methodologically
deep investigation of the site.
To add further meat to a fairly rich stew, the author somehow
manages to insert a condensed Neolithic into the narrative,
including many of its key theories, sites, debates, researchers and
recent discoveries. In addition there is a well-written and highly
condensed history of archaeological theory thrown in for good
measure. The treatment is necessarily brief and focuses mainly
on Hodder’s views and the archaeology of Neolithic Turkey, but
provides both an indispensable backdrop to the site biography
and a useful entry point for the uninitiated. The author mostly
provides succinct and accurate précis of the issues, though in one
or two places I sensed a loss of focus and a density in writing that
may have baffled the newcomer. This type of writing is not easy,
yet it is all too easy for archaeological professionals to scoff at
such syntheses and to pick holes endlessly in the generalisations
and simplifications that are necessarily part of a broadly
accessible work. Indeed I have heard many such gripes about this
book. While I do not agree with some of Balter’s observations
(published data at Aşıklı Höyük show it to not be a gatherer
site), I admire his ability to provide a coherent, comprehensible
and well-founded argument, especially in a subject carrying so
many strong, varied and conflicting opinions. Some sections
were particularly well-written and provide excellently worked
examples illustrating how we can and should, to paraphrase
Wheeler’s wise words that grace the Chapter 1 heading, dig
Number 64, June 2007
Book Reviews
up people not things. My favourite concerns the identity of
mudbrick makers (p.144) which draws on analyses of mudbrick
composition and skeletal analysis. In other places, I did feel that
accounts were over-dramatised to either segue between chapters
or arouse the reader’s interest. A few times I also winced at what I
considered unnecessary exaggeration, for example in describing
the result of Mellaart’s expulsion from Turkey as depriving
‘humankind of a cornerstone of its heritage’ (p.54).
Difficult and highly controversial issues are not avoided, but
treated with caution and skill. And there is plenty of controversy
in the story without journalistic sensationalism, including the
baffling ‘Dorak Affair’, Mellaart’s expulsion from Turkey and his
credibility, especially regarding claims of kilim wall-paintings,
Hodder’s acceptance and demands of corporate sponsorship, the
missing bead that almost closed the dig in 1996, tensions with
the Mother Goddess community and the minefield of Turkish
political and cultural sensitivities. These issues are reported
factually and the lack of sensationalism not only strengthens
the account but adds weight to their impact on the story. Of
course there are the visible and rather predictable personal
gripes and divisions in the dig team, especially the rift between
the excavators, self-styled as honest put-upon labourers, and socalled specialists, styled by everyone as a bunch of demanding,
prima-donnas. From my experience, Balter’s treatment of this
issue is pretty good and he illustrates nicely why some of the
tensions between teams occurred and that the two warring
factions contained a rather wider range of personalities than the
preceding sentence may suggest. You can read the diary entries
yourself to see how vicious the war of words got and then marvel
at how Shahina Farid managed to call a truce and make the dig
work, which it certainly did by the time I arrived there.
The author also provides enough information for those who
are interested in evaluating how well the project has fulfilled
its aims to develop a reflexive method, as set out by Hodder in
a 1997 Antiquity article, which also managed to annoy every
field archaeologist who read it. In short I don’t believe it has
and suspect Hodder grossly misunderstood the extent to
which archaeologists debate and query their own work in the
field, especially the definition, description and interpretation
of archaeological contexts. I thought the comments of Shahina
Faird, Hodder’s field director, about ‘interpretation at the trowel’s
edge’ (p.145) were rather apposite in this regard. I also suspect he
underestimated the extent to which specialist fields are integrated
into many excavations in southwest Asia and the strong record of
specialist residence on excavations.
A final theme that deserves mention is the complex place
that Çatalhöyük has in the broader world: Turkish national
icon, religious site, inspiration to artists and fashion designers,
vehicle for economic growth, cultural heritage problem and
advertising tool. Again, the author manages to tread carefully
through this tangled web of relationships and explains why many
came about. The preface shows that the real world has bitten
back at Michael Balter, with the Mother Goddess worshiping
community especially aggrieved by his coverage. More locally, an
Australian review of The Goddess and the Bull led to one article
stating that both the book and the Çatalhöyük project itself
showed archaeology to be a waste of time, based on unproveable
conjecture (Campbell 2006). Ignoring the inherent lack of
intellectual rigour in the argument (post-modern theory used to
support a positivist statement!) and clear misreading of the text,
the example shows just how far Çatalhöyük’s influence extends
into the world beyond the academy.
On a technical note, the book is an attractive production,
with a quirky cover design, comfortable font and pleasing
illustrations at each chapter heading by John Swogger, Hodder’s
illustrator. A section of black-and-white plates provides, with a
solitary map at the start of the book, illustrative material for the
text. For those not familiar with the region, a map referring to
some of the Levantine sites mentioned in the text and perhaps a
chronological table to help understand the temporal relationships
of sites mentioned in the text would have been useful. I noticed
only a couple of typos, a minor miracle in modern academic
publishing, and this edition has a useful preface and epilogue, the
latter bringing the reader up-to-date with findings immediately
prior to publication. Extensive footnotes and bibliography, with
a good index and attractive price tag, complete an impressive
package and the volume demonstrates once again that Left Coast
Press has well and truly arrived as an ambitious, high-quality
archaeological publisher.
Beyond its relevance to those of us obsessed by the Turkish
Neolithic, The Goddess and the Bull is a highly worthwhile read
for anyone interested in the complexity of archaeology, how it
relates to the outside world and the dynamics of its theory and
practice. The book presents a very different form of archaeology
to that familiar to many AA readers and gives a good insight
to the stifling conditions of large-scale Old World excavation. If
you ever wondered what life was like on one of those ‘cast of
thousands’ newsreel excavations from the Middle East, then you
may get a good idea by reading this book. For budding directors,
you could also do worse than reflect on the trials of Ian Hodder
as he raised funds and gained permission to open the site anew.
I felt a great deal of admiration for his persistence and ultimate
success, let alone the project he has stitched together. This is
not the definitive work on the archaeology of Çatalhöyük that
some may hope for, and indeed it does not set out to be so, even
though some reviews have I think unfairly judged it in these
terms. It does, however, fulfill its aims extremely well and gets as
close as anyone has to distilling the archaeological process and
the essence of what makes Çatalhöyük such a focus of national,
personal and professional obsession. In writing this review I am
again stunned at just how much the story contains. If you want
the detailed archaeological data produced by Hodder’s team,
read the McDonald Institute volumes that have recently been
produced and/or visit the project’s sleek and comprehensive
website (www.catalhoyuk.com). For a personal, and it has to be
said rather partial, synthesis of this material seek out Hodder’s
The Leopard’s Tale (2006), which fleshes out his theory of ‘material
entanglement’ described briefly in Balter’s tome.
To conclude, The Goddess and the Bull provides a good
read about one of the few prehistoric sites that attract a global
interest by both public and professional alike. The popular style
will not be to everyone’s taste, but I certainly enjoyed the book
and admire Michael Balter’s ability to sensitively weave together
so many strands of information, opinion, and biographical
information. In doing so, he has produced an entertaining
and high-quality popular archaeological text based on good
scholarship and exhaustive journalism. The Goddess and the
Bull provides the general public with an excellently-written and
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55
Book Reviews
comprehensible entry point to our subject, students with a great
insight into the complexity and reality of working in our field,
the teacher a wonderful text to prompt critical and wide-ranging
discussion about archaeology, and the established professional
plenty of food for thought. And its last sentence is one with
whose sentiment I am sure we all agree. I am pleased to have
finally read it.
References
Balter, M. 1998 Why settle down? The mystery of communities. Science 282:
1442-1445.
Campbell, F. 2006 Molesting the past. Weekend Australian (Review Section) 25
February:14.
Hodder, I. 1997 ‘Always momentary, fluid and flexible’: Towards a reflexive
excavation methodology. Antiquity 71:691-700.
Hodder, I. 2006 The Leopard’s Tale: Revealing the Mysteries of Çatalhöyük. London:
Thames and Hudson.
INTRODUCTION TO ROCK ART RESEARCH
David S. Whitley
Left Coast Press, Walnut Creek, CA, 2005, xiv+215pp,
ISBN 1-59874-001-6
Reviewed by Natalie R. Franklin
School of Social Science, University of Queensland, Brisbane,
QLD 4072, Australia
This book is exactly what the title proclaims it to be – an
introduction to rock art research – or ‘an introductory text,
intended for college students but also useful to professional
archaeologists and resource managers who … develop an interest
in or need to study or protect rock art sites’ (p.xi). Arising from
the need to provide a text book for a short course on rock art
research taught by the author at San Carlos University in 2004,
the result, this book, was also only ‘intended as a starting point for
students and archaeologists interested in rock art research (and
not … the final word on how this research must be conducted)’
(p.xi). As such, the book reflects the author’s own experience,
research interests, and biases, as Whitley unashamedly points out
(p.xi), and draws on a wealth of examples from the area where he
has undertaken most of his work, North America. However, any
introductory work on rock art research or archaeology in general
will necessarily reflect the biases and agendas of its author, but
there is still much for the student, archaeologist or cultural
heritage professional to learn from this text.
The book is divided into 10 chapters, plus a useful appendix
with two examples of recording forms that might be applicable
in any rock art recording project, a glossary of the terms used
throughout the book, and an extensive reference list providing
good coverage of the field, although I would like to have seen
more of the Australian literature cited.
The introductory chapter covers definitions of rock art
and the techniques used to make it. It is an indication of the
relative comprehensiveness of this book that Whitley includes
earth figures in his definition of rock art (i.e. intaglios such as
the Nazca lines of Peru and geoglyphs or stone arrangements
like those found in Australia and northern Chile), although it is
unfortunate that they are not considered again. Whitley stresses
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that rock art research is a subdiscipline of archaeology, but with
its own specialised literature, addressing sometimes-different
problems and requiring its own analytical techniques.
Chapter 2 provides some useful information on rock art
fieldwork and how to record sites, differentiating ‘narrative
recording’, or written documentation of sites, from ‘graphic
documentation’ by such means as photography and tracing.
There is a good coverage of some of the latest recording
techniques, including digital photography and 3D laser
scanning of panels. Whitley stresses the destructive nature of
some recording and of archaeology in general, and although
he mostly provides a balanced approach, I disagree with his
view that direct tracing of paintings is acceptable if they are
covered by mineral skins or coatings. The effect of such tracing
on these accretions and their dating potential is unknown,
and the general precautionary principle followed in the field
of conservation is applicable here. A minor quibble I have
with Whitley’s lucid explanation of the various recording
techniques is the apparent contradiction between his statement
that stippling should be avoided in direct tracings of rock art
panels, as the accuracy of the traced lines is unclear, and his
inclusion of an illustration of a traced panel from his own
recording research that features stippling in the legend. In
this chapter, Whitley again emphasises that rock art is just one
component of a larger archaeological phenomenon, and that
the archaeological context of rock art sites should be recorded
as this may shed light on the creation of the rock art itself,
sentiments with which I strongly agree.
The classification of rock art and the thorny issue of the
equation of similar groupings of motifs with cultural-historical
styles are considered in Chapter 3. In this chapter, Whitley’s
identification of rock art motifs as particular subjects appears as
far too certain, such as his interpretation of engraved ‘bighorn
sheep’ in the Coso Range of eastern California as dead adult
males rather than the pregnant females usually cited. A large
body of research has shown that the precise identification of
particular rock art figures is problematic, and also that it is not
even required for meaningful analysis to follow.
Chapter 4 is a comprehensive coverage of dating methods
for rock art and the advances that have been made in recent
years to provide it with a chronological context. The chapter
includes some little-known techniques, such as cosmogenic
dating and lead-profile dating. However, the certainty provided
by some techniques, such as cation-ration dating, has been
overstated, and Whitley’s views on this method stand in stark
contrast to the Australian experience, where the controversial
results obtained for a rock engraving site in the Olary Province
have since been withdrawn.
The next four chapters consider the interpretation of rock
art and the various approaches that have been taken. Chapter 5
contains ‘a quick refresher on scientific method and some
related topics … because the careful use of scientific method
provides our best means for studying rock art’ (p.71), and
underlines the importance of systematic data collection and
analysis compared to the use of anecdotal evidence.
Symbolic and ethnographic interpretation is covered in
Chapter 6. A contrast is drawn between informed approaches,
where ethnological or ethnographic evidence is used, and
formal approaches, which feature outsiders’ interpretations of
Number 64, June 2007