Who owns antiquities? June 16, 2008
Posted by argotnavis in Archaeology.Tags: archaeoblog, blogs, books, ethics, looting, museums
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Archaeology has a review by Roger Atwood of James Cuno’s Who Owns Antiquity? in their latest issue. This isn’t particularly breaking news — Looting Matters wrote about the book in late May (and there’s a link to a review from early May in the comments on that post) and Anthony over at ArchaeoBlog wrote about the Archaeology piece on Saturday, although I somehow missed it until I started writing up this post. You can read the whole thing if you click that link, and I haven’t actually read the book, so I’m not totally qualified to comment, so I just wanted to point out a few things that struck me as interesting.
‘What’s standing in the way are governments that illegitimately “claim ownership of the world’s ancient heritage” and practice what he calls identity control–the use of cultural property ownership laws to create and enforce a national identity based on what Cuno feels are spurious connections to the ancient past. “And archaeology and national museums are used as a means of enforcing that control,” he writes.’
I don’t entirely agree with what Cuno is saying here, especially since the “heritage” that governments are “claim[ing] ownership” of refers to the actual antiquities, and not the “who gets to say what about the past” issues that I initially thought this book would be about when I heard the title. I might have to read the book, because I’m curious as to how he justifies his position that American and European “encyclopedic museums” have at least as much claim to ownership as do the national museums of the countries these objects actually came from.
‘As for UNESCO itself, Cuno is clear. The United States should renounce the convention. He draws a parallel with the Bush administration’s decision to ignore international prohibitions on torture: “We know from the actions of the current Bush administration that long-standing international agreements, like the Geneva Convention, can be ignored or partially adhered to in the presumed national interest of the U.S.” The analogy with the Geneva Convention is more apt than he realizes. The information given by a prisoner while he is being tortured is unreliable. So is the information given by a looted antiquity; it has been wrenched from its archaeological context and stripped of its basic history. In certain instances, even its authenticity cannot be definitively ascertained.’
I think Atwood’s take on this is quite good. I hope I would have thought of the same thing had I not been so convinced I was taking crazy pills after reading Cuno’s apparent defense of ignoring the Geneva Conventions. Again, I think I have to read the book, because that must just sound bad out of context. Right?
‘What keeps looting going isn’t poverty or war, but market demand for antiquities. Although Cuno seems to understand this fact, he will not concede that it implicates buyers in the problem. But it does implicate them, and therein lies the fundamental dishonesty of his argument. He goes through the motions of deploring looting but then advocates the activities that cause it, suggesting it cannot be stopped–so why even try? Before long it’s clear that in Cuno’s mind, destruction of the archaeological record is a small price to pay for the enlargement of encyclopedic museums.’
To me, this pretty much hits the nail on the head. I think the argument here is, “Isn’t it better for something to be in a museum than a private collection?” Maybe so, but I don’t think museums should be directly contributing to the demand that keeps the illegal antiquities trade alive.
Anyway, it’s definitely an interesting read. Check it out.
Impulse buying May 12, 2008
Posted by argotnavis in Archaeology, Humor, Life.Tags: '60s, books, Boston, Kathleen Kenyon
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I was out at the rather strange used furniture/electronics/whatever store in Allston today buying a chair (my previous Ikea chair didn't make it), and I decided to look through their used book rack. There are usually a couple cool old books in racks like that, and they had one I couldn't pass up:
Yes, Kathleen Kenyon's Beginning in Archaeology. This is the revised edition, printed in 1968 (the first printing was 1952), as you might have guessed. Check out that cover. Groovy, no? That's actually what convinced me that I had to have it. I'll probably actually read it one of these days, too.
Archaeology quote of the day May 1, 2008
Posted by argotnavis in Archaeology, Food, Humor, Language.Tags: books, Norman Yoffee, quotes, sandwiches, theory
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I'm currently rereading Norman Yoffee's Myths of the Archaic State, and I'm really surprised that this short passage didn't stand out to me when I read it the first time:
'Many of these activities could be called “methodology,” but in order not to bruise the sensibilities of some archaeologists, I call this level not “low-level theory,” as Raab and Goodyear have done, but “basic-level theory” or BLT. The ingredients of BLTs provide sustenance to archaeologists' (Yoffee 2005: 186).
I'm positive someone must have mentioned this in that class, but I don't remember it. Archaeologists do love BLTs, though.
References
Yoffee, Norman
2005 Myths of the Archaic State: Evolution of the Earliest Cities, States, and Civilizations. New York: Cambridge University Press.
This is the kind of nerd I am June 17, 2007
Posted by argotnavis in Cars.Tags: anachronisms, books, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Robert Ludlum
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I'm reading a book by Robert Ludlum (yes, intentionally, jerks) called The Gemini Contenders. It's set in late 1939 and early 1940, and involves Greek priests, fascists, Nazis, communists, British secret agents and wealthy Italians (and I'm only in the seventh chapter). I have several problems with it, though (aside from it being a Robert Ludlum book, jerks). One of the big ones involves a car that the main character (with the assistance of several MI6 agents) steals. It's a taxi, which the main character explains is a Fiat with a “Lamborgini” engine. Now, here's my problem. First, it's spelled “Lamborghini” and second, Ferruccio Lamborghini did not begin manufacturing tractors until after World War II. Not too big of an error there, I guess, except that his car business began in 1963, over two decades after this book takes place. So, I guess we have three options. 1) Robert Ludlum should not write about cars, 2) This book takes place in an alternate universe where Enzo Ferrari insulted Lamborghini's ability to drive a car (while complimenting his tractor driving ability) some time before 1939 (at least eight years before Ferrari began manufacturing road cars), 3) Ludlum is referring to a fictional car manufacturer, Lamborgini. It's an odd error, considering the rest of the sports cars mentioned in the book are, you know, not terribly anachronistic.
