New Book Chronicle

The February issue of Antiquity heralds some significant changes: a new publisher, increased frequency of publication and developments to our website. NBC will continue as a regular feature, aiming to cover more or less the same number of books across six, rather than four, issues. That said, in this current issue, NBC adopts a slightly different form, one devoted not to the usual melange of new titles, but to a single—if massive—publication.

Encyclopedia of global archaeology

Panegyrists of imperial Rome were often at a loss as to how to communicate the magnitude and dazzling diversity of the ancient metropolis. One strategy was to resort to statistics: the numbers of temples and statues, the cumulative length of porticoes, the size and mix of its population and so on. The scale of Springer's Encyclopedia of global archaeology invites a similar strategy: 5 years in the making, 11 volumes, 8015 pages, 1625 entries by an international cast of 1356 authors under the guidance of 65 section editors and a 29-member advisory board, plus more than 11 000 cross-references. The names and affiliations of the contributors take up 70-odd pages of front matter alone. It is tempting to weigh it (this would definitely involve bringing the bathroom scales to the office and not taking all 11 hardback volumes home). Indeed, the Encyclopedia defies easy quantification—the online eReference version has hundreds of additional entries and is intended to expand over time. An alternative measure is price. At £3780 for the print version, or £4725 for combined print and eReference, one could certainly buy a decent second-hand car for the equivalent value. So, what do these volumes offer? And for whom are they intended?

First, some organisational matters. The Encyclopedia is organised alphabetically, from ‘Abu Hureyra: Agriculture and Domestication’ through to ‘Zvelebil, Marek’. Volume 1 provides an extended ‘Topical table of contents’, with entries grouped under themes such as ‘Archaeology in the modern world’, ‘Ethics’, ‘Indigenous archaeology’, ‘Theory’ and ‘Extreme environments’.

Entries range in length from a single page (such as ‘Hedges in Historical Archaeology’) to 15 or more (such as ‘Hunting and Hunting Landscapes’). Some topics are afforded multiple entries, both to reflect divergent (and especially regional) perspectives and, we are told, to promote the didactic value of the Encyclopedia by opening up debate; examples include ‘Binford, Lewis R. (Hunter-Gatherer and Mid-Range Societies)’ followed by ‘Binford, Lewis R. (Theory)’. Some generic thematic entries e.g. ‘Bioarchaeology, Human Osteology, and Forensic Anthropology: Definitions and Developments’ are followed by additional, specific case studies—in this instance, ‘Bioarchaeology in the Roman Empire’—but there is no explanation for the choice of these illustrative examples or the exclusion of others. Similarly, ‘Phytolith Studies in Archaeology’ is followed by ‘Phytoliths of Islamic Archaeology’, but no other periods or places are afforded such attention.

Each entry is structured as a series of standard sections, although individual contributors have sometimes had to find ways to adapt these to their particular topics: Introduction, Definition, Historical Background, Key Issues, Current Debates, International Perspectives (in the spirit of the Encyclopedia's global remit, although it is not always easy to demonstrate, depending on the subject) and Future Directions. Entries are well illustrated with colour photographs, diagrams, plans, graphs and tables, and each is concluded with cross-references and generous, up-to-date bibliographies divided into text references and further reading.

The Encyclopedia is in English throughout, but has made efforts to reach beyond the Anglophone world. One of the defining characteristics of this undertaking is the number of entries translated from other languages: French, Italian, Portuguese and Spanish, and many more were submitted by authors in languages other than their native tongue: German, Chinese and Japanese. Smith observes that the invitation to submit in languages other than English “accessed a torrent of hitherto untapped expertise” (p. viii). The involvement of more than the usual English-language cohort of contributors definitely gives this encyclopedia a special character and strengthens its international credentials. It is an achievement to which the editor very properly draws attention in her Acknowledgements (p. xii): financial support for translation “has allowed the encyclopedia to contribute to the democratization of archaeology globally. By accessing the work of the finest scholars, no matter what language they write in, we have replaced English-language networks with international networks and produced an encyclopedia that is truly global in scope.”

Another feature is the inclusion of biographies of key archaeologists, although, curiously, a number of the biographies appear autobiographical. Indeed, this emphasises the fact that some of the biographical entries cover not only revered historical figures but archaeologists, older and younger, who are still alive. Thus, Robert Bednarik and George Abungu appear alongside James Mellaart, Arthur Evans and Victor Sarianidi. It is sometimes said that a scholar's true contribution to a subject cannot reliably be assessed without the benefit of hindsight, and the inclusion of the living is an interesting and perhaps courageous policy.

This great mass of collective scholarship combines into a monumental whole. Some of the entries are arguably already served in greater detail elsewhere in various other encyclopedias, handbooks and companions of narrower scope (see the March 2014 New Book Chronicle in Antiquity 88: 334–46). Nonetheless, it is easy to imagine recommending students to begin their research on almost any topic by consulting the entries in these volumes. As a starting point for research, the Encyclopedia—and especially its eReference version—would be a very welcome resource for any archaeology student. More broadly, as a snapshot of the discipline, it is unparalleled.

Scope and structure

There are numerous dimensions of difference that could be used to assess the coverage provided by the Encyclopedia. It is particularly strong on cultural relevance and issues of contemporary concern such as ethics and repatriation: perhaps not surprising, given the editor's recent prominence as President of the World Archaeological Congress for two consecutive terms. It is refreshing to see the greater emphasis on people and places outside Europe and North America in terms of both entries and authors.

The topics covered by the Encyclopedia's entries range in geographical scale from individual sites, through regional cultures to global, thematic phenomena. There is a strong emphasis on cultural heritage and museums, sometimes individual monuments or institutions, often on a country-by-country basis, emphasising issues of management, legislation and education. A Noah's ark of animals and their domestication and use are covered—from alpacas to yaks—as is an impressive range of plants, from apricots to yams. There are also entries on all manner of theories and field and laboratory methods. Many of the authors are leading figures in their topics; for example, Marilyn Palmer on ‘Industrial Archaeology’, Randall McGuire on ‘Capitalism in Archaeological Theory’, Dorian Fuller on ‘Rice, Origins and Development’, Ingrid Edlund-Berry on ‘Central Italy: Etruscan-Italic Sanctuaries’, Elmo León on ‘Andes: Prehistoric Period’ and Gian Pietro Brogiolo on ‘Italy: Medieval Archaeology’.

The coverage has been constructed around a number of key themes. Leaving aside the ‘Additional Biographical Entries’, there are 29 themes, some of them focused on periods and places, others on approaches and techniques, and still others on everyday issues of politics, law and education. There is some unevenness in the size and breadth of the themes: thus ‘World Heritage’ (100 entries) and ‘Historical Archaeology’ (150 entries) rub shoulders with ‘Near East (Ancient, Pre-Achaemenid)', (8 entries) and ‘Islamic Archaeology’ (17 entries). Some of these smaller themes might perhaps have been combined into larger blocks. Our pie chart illustrates the overall configuration of the contents. The category divisions are somewhat arbitrary, and many individual entries might in reality have been classified under a series of alternative categories, but it is a striking feature of the times that ‘Theory’ (76 entries) represents such a thin offering compared with most of the others. Is this a way of telling us that in global perspective, theory is mainly a concern of North American and North European archaeologists?

Encyclopedia of global archaeology entries by category. Category titles and categorisation of entries by Antiquity.

Yet even an 8000-page encyclopedia cannot claim to cover everything, and one of the fascinations of dipping into a collection such as this is to see the way in which the materials have been chosen and assembled. A certain arbitrariness is inevitable in a work of this kind. Among the biographical entries, for instance, many expected names are missing: no François Bordes, for example, or David Clarke; no Richard MacNeish, or Glyn Daniel, or Chris Tilley, or Willard Libby (arguably not an archaeologist?). Conversely, Mike Schiffer (like Lewis Binford) receives two entries (under the categories ‘Archaeology of the Modern World’ and ‘Theory’). Among older historical figures, John Lubbock gets an entry, as do Karl Marx and Charles Darwin, but not Lewis Henry Morgan or Edward Tylor.

Even within the individual categories there is considerable flexibility in the way the material has been presented: Agriculture and Domestication (92 entries), for example, concentrates mainly on individual species (51 examples) but also key sites (14 entries) and two regional studies (Papua New Guinea and Eastern USA), with the remaining entries a mixture of overviews and techniques.

That flexibility extends to the way in which individual entries themselves are written and conceived. To take just a single example, the article on ‘Linearbandkeramik Site Excavation’ (by Daniela Hofmann) explains the limitations and challenges of excavating these large Early Neolithic (c. 5600–4900 cal BC) settlements, focusing mainly on the Aldenhoven Plateau excavations of the 1970s and 1980s. There is no mention of earlier work such as that of Modderman in Dutch Limburg or Soudsky at Bylany in the Czech Republic. Instead, we have a lively mixture of observations on the interpretational challenges and the way newer excavations are getting to grips with these. The slightly idiosyncratic nature of the approaches taken in these articles—also reflected in their titles (one might wonder why this is about Linearbandkeramik site excavation, rather than simply the Linearbandkeramik, or Linearbandkeramik settlements)—also makes them more lively and engaging, with freedom for authors to develop specific angles and concerns. It is a strength, rather than a weakness, of this fascinating series of volumes.

Inclusions and exclusions

The Encyclopedia aims to encompass “all time periods and regions of the world and all stages of human development” (p. vii); in that, it shares an objective with Antiquity. But, of course, journals have the luxury of working incrementally and perpetually toward that goal; encyclopedias, or at least print encyclopedias, must deliver a more definitive product, and sooner. Unsurprisingly, the Encyclopedia claims “comprehensive and systematic coverage of archaeology that is unprecedented” (p. vii).

Reviewers are sometimes prone to review the book they wished it to have been rather than the book it actually is. As most authors are careful to delimit their scope, such an approach to reviewing is bad form. However, an encyclopedia claiming to be comprehensive—indeed, “a definitive reference work” (p. vii)—positively invites the reviewer to search for what's missing. Simultaneously, Smith clearly recognises in her Acknowledgements, that “it's not possible to have an entry on every possible subject” (p. xi). Further, we receive a clue—and no more—as to the inevitably uneven nature of coverage when Smith comments in relation to biographical entries that, as a result of very different regional histories of archaeology, there are comparatively few biographies of African archaeologists, most of the selected Portuguese individuals are still alive, but the Japanese ones are not. This insight is one of the very few editorial examples with which we are provided. Most striking is the absence of any comment about how the editorial team set about their task of defining the topics, finding contributors and shaping the entries.

The definition of criteria for inclusion or exclusion in ambitious, multi-authored volumes of global scope is similarly raised by the new Cambridge world prehistory (Renfrew & Bahn 2014). In that case, the editors provide explicit discussion about the meaning of ‘world prehistory’ and their approach to drawing a line between prehistory and later historical periods (pp. 5–6). As they note, there is no easy solution, as even the apparently simple criterion of the absence of written history is highly difficult to implement across time and space. Pragmatism is of the essence.

In the absence of much explicit guidance, should global archaeology be taken simply as ‘everything’, a mosaic which can be added to indefinitely but never completed? (Indeed, in a literal sense, “all time periods and regions of the world and all stages of human development” (p. vii) doesn't even rule out lunar archaeology.) Or should we look for some qualitative parameters that limit its scope and define its subject matter? Or is it a random assortment that aims only to capture something broadly representative?

There must have been some guiding principles; for example, in the appointment of the regional editors. How were they identified and what guidelines, or leeway, were they given? Or, to use more concrete examples, why is there is an entry for the Berlin Wall, but not Hadrian's Wall? Why does Berenike receive a long entry, but Myos Hormos doesn't get anything? How do these decisions relate specifically to ‘globalness’?

Perhaps the criteria are inherent in the term ‘global archaeology’? To find out, we turn to the entry on that subject, authored by Pedro Funari and Aline Carvalho. Here, global archaeology is defined in relation to “three great ruptures” (p. 3052) that have redefined the discipline, starting in the mid-twentieth century: a redefinition of the concept of culture, particularly resulting from the experiences leading to, during and resulting from the Second World War; attitudes towards the environment; and the end of the Cold War and the consolidation of capitalism. Whereas earlier attempts at all-encompassing narratives of the human past were effectively extensions of Western colonial domination, more recent research has shifted to “a chaotic, but pluralist, study of past material culture, from a variety of conflicting standpoints” (p. 3053). In the context of the globalised present, this raises epistemological challenges, such as how to acknowledge the local and the particular without imposing or losing sight of the bigger picture. Notwithstanding the aims and achievements of global archaeology in the promotion of “diversity, freedom, and the empowerment of people” (p. 3058), and the great rise in the number of non-Western archaeologists, there are also acknowledged tensions including the continued influence of North American and Western European scholarship.

As Funari and Carvalho observe, central to many of these developments has been the World Archaeological Congress (WAC), and it is no coincidence that Encyclopedia's editor was also the President of WAC from 2003 to 2014. Although not explicitly discussed by Smith, the founding ideals of WAC clearly inform both the core concept of the Encyclopedia and the pragmatic selection of its many entries. It presents a global consciousness not simply of the need to study the past in a different way but for social and political action to challenge and change the status quo. That may explain why Hadrian's Wall doesn't make the final cut (despite its incorporation into the Frontiers of the Roman Empire transnational World Heritage Site on the grounds of Outstanding Universal Value. Nonetheless, there are still plenty of entries on Classical and Roman themes—indeed, perhaps rather more than might have been expected).

By complete chance—or, then again, perhaps in a publication of such size it is statistically inevitable—one of the entries makes the very same point. In her entry for ‘Centuriation and Roman Land Surveying’, Marinella Pasquinucci evaluates a set of Roman surveying manuals assembled during Late Antiquity and known as the Corpus Agrimensores Romanorum. She concludes that “the writings manifest a relevant diversity of interests and approaches [but] we cannot identify the criteria applied in making the compilation [. . .] On the whole, they were presumably produced with didactic aims” (p. 1287). Like the writings of the Roman land surveyors, the Encyclopedia is a valuable document even if we don't fully understand the rationale behind it.

Virtual futures

A feature of this project is the parallel eReference version of the Encyclopedia (although we have only consulted the print version for the purposes of this review). Many publications now have print and digital editions. The plan here, however, is for the eReference version to be both expanded and constantly updated, so that “this reference work will be as useful in twenty years as it is in two years” (p. vii), although it is not made clear in the print version how this updating will be organised or by whom. This virtual future, evolving away from its static print twin, raises interesting questions. What is the value of a print encyclopedia that, it is acknowledged, will quickly date? The Encyclopaedia Britannica has long abandoned hard copy. One answer is that the print version provides a snapshot of the discipline in 2014; its dynamic virtual twin may reflect the state-of-the-art in 2034, but the print copy will be a record of what preoccupied us (or not) today.

And the print copy is certainly close to Smith's childhood inspiration, recounted in the Preface, in the form of family discussions of regular encyclopedic instalments. Browsing through these volumes, it is not hard to find a fascinating entry to read—and something even more fascinating, but completely different, in the next entry. The joy of the print version is precisely the serendipity of finding an entry on ‘Childe, Vere Gordon (Political and Social Archaeology)’ next to ‘Chickpea: Origins and Development’. It is the random juxtaposition of the encyclopedia format that makes browsing these volumes compelling and quite the opposite of the mechanical process of ‘discoverability’, to use the soulless terminology of information science.

Nonetheless, searching for specific information in the print version is not particularly easy and clearly the search function of the eReference version, and its ability to scan the full text as well as the entry titles, is much more suited to targeted research. As so often, the digital doesn't quite replace the analogue, but simply highlights the different strengths of the two media formats. Horses for courses.

Yet there is a bigger question lurking here. All the benefits of print aside, could this venture have been tackled solely in a digital format? We are told that “people should use this encyclopedia as a first stop for obtaining information on a topic” (p. xi). That sounds very similar to the way in which people use Wikipedia. Indeed, are the ambitions of the Encyclopedia and Wikipedia so different: collaborative, cosmopolitan, global, dialogic, constantly expanding? Many of these entries already have Wikipedia pages, some longer and more detailed than those in the Encyclopedia and enriched with other benefits, such as hyperlinks to dynamic maps and satellite images. We would certainly not wish to suggest that the Encyclopedia and Wikipedia are comparable in content, but what, in principle, does the Encyclopedia (and especially its eReference version) do that Wikipedia cannot? Clearly the authority of the contributors is crucial, but we also return to the question of scope and the rationale for what is included and what is excluded. It is precisely the editorial vision and direction that Wikipedia lacks, and hence why it would have been helpful to know more about the editor's process.

This is an impressive compilation, the latest and largest in a series of encyclopedias that have appeared over the last 15 years. That sequence began with the Companion encyclopedia of archaeology (edited by Graeme Barker) in 1999: 1219 pages in 2 volumes. Next came Deborah M. Pearsall's Encyclopedia of archaeology in 2007: 2532 pages in 3 volumes. And now we have the Encyclopedia of global archaeology, at over three times the length and number of volumes. So where next for works of this kind? Does the Encyclopedia of global archaeology represent the last and largest of its kind, in a world of reference rapidly moving towards the digital age of fluid boundaries? Is it more appropriate, perhaps, to compare it not with previous ‘encyclopedias’ but with the ever-growing list of Oxford Handbooks and similar series of reference works? Is it there that the future lies? Will the Encyclopedia prove the last attempt to cover archaeology in its entirety on such a scale?

We conclude by returning to where we began: ancient Rome. The city's panegyrists described it as a cosmopolis, a place where the full diversity of the known world—its peoples, ideas, animals, plants and things of every kind—could be experienced in a single place. Such is the Encyclopedia of global archaeology.