by Chris Fowler
Provence completely lacks the strictly megalithic (and easterly facing) passage graves that are so numerous in Iberia and western France, and this seems to be why the Fontvieille custom of facing westerly spread there without challenge. Similarly, in the Balearic Islands (where influence from southern France has long been recognized) the handful of Neolithic passage graves are all westerly facing. But on the mainland to the west of Fontvieille (and even across the Pyrenees into Catalunya) the situation is altogether more confused. Fontvieille-type graves share the territory with megalithic passage graves, the former facing westerly and the latter easterly. Interestingly, the co-existence of these opposing customs is particularly evident in Ardèche and Gard, not far from Fontvieille, and there it seems as though the clash was reduced by the orientations of tombs of each type being directed further towards south than is normal elsewhere (Hoskin 2001, ch. 9 (Fontvieille, Provence and eastern Languedoc), ch. 10 (western Languedoc and the eastern Pyrenees), and ch. 11 (the Balearics)).
THE EMERGING PICTURE IN WESTERN EUROPE
That 97% of the passage graves of western Iberia faced within the narrow range of sunrise (and moonrise) is astonishing. Over this vast area, Neolithic builders intending to construct a passage grave must have involved the sky in their choice of orientation, for there is no other way in which the custom could have been articulated across a region extending from the Algarve in the south of Portugal to Galicia far away in north-west Spain. The individual orientations are facts that any sceptical enquirer can check. That almost all the orientations are directed to such a narrow range of the eastern horizon is likewise a fact, and over such a vast region, only the sky offered a means to ensure uniformity of orientation. We therefore know for sure that in western Iberia, the builders of passage graves oriented these monuments, their most significant constructions, with reference to the sky.
When we ask ourselves what it was in the sky that was so portentous to the Neolithic builders, we are on less certain ground. As we have seen, the planets are too complex in their motions to have left persuasive clues in the archaeological record, and in any case they seem implausible. The stars are so numerous, and their rising/setting points so changeable over the centuries, that some star can be proposed as the ‘target’ of almost any orientation for some supposed date of construction, and this is methodologically unsatisfactory. In any case, surely only the very brightest stars—or perhaps an unusual asterism such as the Pleiades—are plausible targets, and these cannot account for the Iberian orientations.
We are left, therefore, with the sun and the moon, and in choosing between them as the target for the orientations that we find in western Europe, the archaeoastronomer has the problem that a tomb that sometimes faced sunrise (or sunset) necessarily sometimes faced moonrise (or moonset).
As already mentioned, the present writer favours the very simple hypothesis that west Iberian graves were oriented on sunrise when building began, and this would result in the pattern of orientations (to sunrise in the autumn and early winter) that we in fact encounter, the spring being an implausible time to begin construction of sometimes massive graves. But other archaeoastronomers believe that the data are consistent with orientations to the moon at certain phases and at certain times of year. It may be that analysis of the writer’s own data will result in a refutation of his sunrise/sunclimbing model.
THE WAY AHEAD
Fieldwork—the location, and measurement, of monuments whose builders chose to orientate them in a particular direction—provides the raw data that the archaeoastronomer needs. In 2001 the present writer published a corpus mensurarum of some 3,000 grave orientations, from western Europe, the islands of the Mediterranean, and north Africa (Hoskin 2001), and he subsequently extended the area that has been investigated to north-western France and the Channel Islands (Hoskin 2008).
There are large numbers of such graves elsewhere, for example in Ireland, Holland, Germany, and Scandinavia. Investigators working in these regions are steadily adding to the European corpus mensurarum, and it will soon be possible to see if the patterns noted above have a wider applicability, or if the passage grave phenomena were more variable. But passage graves are not the only monuments with orientations. Investigators have already studied taula sanctuaries on Menorca, temples on Malta, nuraghe towers on Sardinia, rectangular talayots on Mallorca, and not least henges, recumbent stone circles and the like in Britain. Some of these monuments have well-defined orientations. In others the orientation is more vague and the data therefore more difficult to analyse with confidence; but as the analysis of grave orientations matures, so the methods can be applied with increasing confidence to the less certain data.
The fundamental fact to emerge from all this fieldwork is that patterns of orientation were indeed observed by builders over areas far too extensive for the custom to have been articulated by reference to localized terrestrial ‘targets’ such as a sacred mountain or a mythical homeland. The customs can have been articulated only with reference to the sky, which therefore played a significant role in the cosmovisión of the Neolithic peoples of Europe.
REFERENCES
Belmonte, J.A. and González García, A.C. 2010. Statistical analysis of megalithic tomb orientations in the Iberian Peninsula and neighbouring regions. Journal for the History of Astronomy 41, 225–238.
Hawkins, G.S. 1964. Stonehenge decoded. London: Souvenir Press.
Hoskin, M. 2001. Tombs, temples and their orientations: a new perspective on Mediterranean prehistory. Bognor Regis: Ocarina Books.
Hoskin, M. 2008. Orientations of dolmens of western Europe: summary and conclusions. Journal for the History of Astronomy 39, 507–514.
Hoyle, F. 1971. From Stonehenge to modern cosmology. San Francisco: W. H. Freeman & Co.
Ruggles, C. 1999. Astronomy in prehistoric Britain and Ireland. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Sauzade, G. 2000. Orientations of the Provençal dolmens. Archaeoastronomy 25, S1–S10.
Thom, A. 1955. A statistical examination of megalithic sites in Britain. Journal of the Royal Statistical Society, series A (general) 118, 275–295.
Thom, A. 1967. Megalithic sites in Britain. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Thom, A. 1971. Megalithic lunar observatories. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Thom, A. and Thom, A.S. 1978. Megalithic remains in Britain and Brittany. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Thom, A., Thom, A.S., and Burl, A. 1980. Megalithic rings. Plans and data for 229 monuments in Britain. Oxford: British Archaeological Reports.
Thom, A., Thom, A.S., and Burl, A. 1990. Stone rows and standing stones: Britain, Ireland and Brittany. Oxford: British Archaeological Reports.
Death, Bodies, and Persons
CHAPTER 49
MORTUARY PRACTICES, BODIES, AND PERSONS IN THE NEOLITHIC AND EARLY–MIDDLE COPPER AGE OF SOUTH-EAST EUROPE
DUŠAN BORIĆ
INTRODUCTION
SOMETIME during the first half of the fifth millennium BC, on the plains of south-east Transdanubia, near the western banks of the Danube, a group of relatives buried an adult male member of their lineage within their settlement. Maintained over several generations through successive interments, the burial site reminded everyone of the prominent standing of the lineage, carrying forward the fame of a successful genealogy. As was common when burying men, a shaft-hole stone axe and an adze were placed on the right shoulder of the deceased, laid to rest crouched on his left side and facing south. Six pots were placed around the body to sustain the man’s journey to the afterworld. The burial was covered by soil and a wooden pole was placed to mark the location of the head. Several years after the burial, relatives remembering the enduring legacy of this individual went back to the grave to retrieve the man’s skull, as had become the norm here and in some surrounding villages for particularly honoured members. The surviving power and potency of the skull would help the lineage keep alive the dead relative’s many deeds, enhancing the fame of the lineage fo
r generations to come. Yet digging for the skull, and potentially facing bare bones with patches of still decomposing flesh, was a difficult and life-changing experience for some. After the skull was lifted and cleaned, they put a lower jaw of a wild boar in its place and backfilled the small pit.
This reconstruction relates to burial 92 from the late Neolithic Lengyel culture settlement of Zengővárkony, Hungary (Dombay 1960, 78–79, Tab. 36/13; Zoffmann 1969–70, 65). It evokes many of the elements and themes characteristic of the negotiation of group and personal identities during Neolithic and Eneolithic burial practice in south-east Europe: the choice of place for interment, the treatment of the dead body, its adornment and the provision of offerings, bodily fragmentation, the circulation of disarticulated body parts (especially the skull), and combining human bodies with the body parts of certain animals (preferentially animals’ teeth, skulls, and mandibles).
THEORIES, SOURCES, AND COVERAGE
As elsewhere, analyses of Neolithic and Eneolithic (i.e. Copper Age) mortuary practices in south-east Europe were influenced by specific theoretical traditions and their preferred topics. With some notable exceptions, mortuary data were rather under-theorized in culture history approaches, which used grave assemblages for typological comparative analyses and for synchronizing neighbouring culture groups. Processual archaeology (e.g. Chapman 1983) tended to focus on social inequality (cf. O’Shea 1996), a topic that remains influential in spite of post-processual critique (e.g. Borić 1996; Raczky and Anders 2006; Siklósi 2004, 2010; Zalai-Gaál 1986), especially given the richly furnished graves at the Varna I cemetery in Bulgaria (e.g. Bailey 2000; Chapman 1991; Renfrew 1986; see below). Recently, analyses of gender and/or age categories (e.g. Chapman 1997; Sofaer Derevenski 1997, 2000) or ancestors and personhood (e.g. Chapman 1994; Whittle 1998) have also been undertaken.
The spectrum of different approaches can be exemplified by Lichter (2001) and Chapman (2000). Lichter’s work is an impressive collection of systematized and analysed data about Neolithic to middle Copper Age burial practices across south-east Europe. Its detailed catalogue, exhaustive bibliography and lucid conclusions make this volume a key reference book, but in true German tradition Lichter avoids any ‘excessive’ speculations about the patterns identified and remains pessimistic regarding the interpretive potential of archaeological data (e.g. Lichter 2001, 387). In contrast, Chapman’s (2000) publication focuses on only three Hungarian sites, but sets itself the ambitious theoretical goal to break free from the dichotomy between structure and agency. By taking burial rows as units of analyses, he attempts to follow the dynamics of mortuary ‘micro-traditions’. In spite of their differences, these approaches are complementary. Lichter’s detailed data analysis is indispensable for gaining spatial and temporal depth, yet lacks attention to ‘tensions’ and dynamics, giving a static view of the mortuary data. Chapman’s analysis outlines how certain practices develop and become a norm through acting agents, but neglects the larger temporal and spatial scales.
This chapter reviews the evidence of Neolithic and early–middle Copper Age burial practices across south-east Europe. Much of the data obtained in the past half a century or so is still awaiting detailed publication, with the number of known burials varying regionally and chronologically. Whilst this may genuinely represent the prevalence of burial (as opposed to cremation, exposure, or cannibalism, to mention a few alternatives), it may also highlight regionally varied research strategies, such as the effort invested in finding cemeteries, which are less visible than for instance tells, or the size of excavations. Recently, some of the largest cemeteries in the region have been discovered in advance of large motorway projects (e.g. Alsónyék-Kanizsa-dűlő in south-west Hungary, which has yielded nearly 2,500 burials within a Lengyel culture settlement, see Zalai-Gaál 2009). For the sake of simplicity, south-east Europe is separated into the eastern Balkans, the Carpathian Basin with the western Balkans, and the southern Balkans (Greece and Macedonia) (Fig. 49.1). In line with other evidence, mortuary practices can be chronologically divided into early to middle Neolithic (c. 6300–5400 BC), late Neolithic (c. 5400–4500 BC), and early to middle Copper Age (c. 4500–3500 BC).1
FIG. 49.1. Map showing Neolithic and Copper Age sites in south-east Europe mentioned in the text.
1. Ajdovska Jama; 2. Ajmana; 3. Alepotrypa; 4. Alsónyék-Kanizsa-dűlő; 5. Anzabegovo; 6. Aszód-Papi földek; 7. Avgi; 8. Azmak; 9. Barca; 10. Beșenova Veche; 11. Berettyóújfalu-Herpály; 12. Bicske-Galagonyás; 13. Blagotin; 14. Bodrogkeresztúr-Kutyasor; 15. Botoš; 16. Cenad; 17. Cernatul de Jos; 18. Cernavodă; 19. Cernica; 20. Cluj; 21. Decea Mureşului; 22. Deszk-Olajkút; 23. Devnja; 24. Dimini; 25. Donja Branjevina; 26. Dudești; 27. Durankulak; 28. Endrőd-Öregszőlők 119; 29. Esztergályhorváti; 30. Franchthi; 31. Füzesabony-Gubakút; 32. Gârlești; 33. Glăvanesti Vechi; 34. Goljamo Delčevo; 35. Golokut; 36. Gomolava; 37. Gradešnica; 38. Gura Baciului; 39. Hajdúszoboszló; 40. Hódmezővásárhely-Bodzáspart; 41. Hódmezővásárhely-Gorzsa II; 42. Hódmezővásárhely-Kökénydomb; 43. Hódmezővásárhely-Kopáncs; 44. Iclod A and B; 45. Ilıpınar; 46. Istállós-kő Cave; 47. Jaričište; 48. Jászladány; 49. Junacite; 50. Kalythies Cave; 51. Karanovo; 52. Kephala; 53. Kisköre-Gát; 54. Konyár-Ziegelei; 55. Kovačevo; 56. Kremikovci; 57. Lánycsók; 58. Lažňany; 59. Lengyel; 60. Lepenski Vir; 61. Lerna; 62. Malăk Preslavec; 63. Maroslele-Pana; 64. Menteș; 65. Mezőkövesd-Mocsolyás; 66. Mórágy-Tűzkődomb; 67. Nea Nikomedeia; 68. Ostrovul Corbului; 69. Ovčarovo; 70. Paliambela-Kolindros; 71. Polgár-Csőszhalom; 72. Poljanica; 73. Rákóczifalva-Bagi-föld; 74. Šašinci; 75. Šebastovce; 76. Skotino Cave; 77. Slatina; 78. Soufli; 79. Stubline; 80. Szarvas-Szappanos; 81. Szegvár-Tűzköves; 82. Szihalom-Pamlényi-tábla; 83. Szolnok-Szanda; 84. Tărgovište; 85. Tečić; 86. Tharrounia; 87. Tibava; 88. Tiszaföldvár; 89. Tiszapolgár-Basatanya; 90. Tiszaug; 91. Tiszavalk-Kenderföld; 92. Topole-Bač; 93. Trestiana; 94. Valea Orbului; 95. Varna I; 96. Ve’lké Raškovce; 97. Velesnica; 98. Vésztő-Mágor; 99. Vinča; 100. Vinica; 101. Zarkou; 102. Zengővárkony; 103. Zlatara.
EARLY TO MIDDLE NEOLITHIC (C. 6300–5400 BC)
Throughout the entire study area, burials of this period remain infrequent. It is rare to find more than one or two per settlement (the highest number attested is 23),2 and many sites have none. This can only partly be explained by limited excavation. Rather, it seems only a small portion of the population was buried within the settlement, there being other ways of disposing of the dead. If so, how were individuals selected for intramural interments and what alternative ways of disposal might there have been? Whilst answers to these questions must remain speculative, patterns in the data offer glimpses of social structure and belief systems.
There are many similarities between the burial practices of the eastern Balkans (Karanovo I–II, Kremikovci, Dudești and Ovčarovo culture groups), those in the western Balkans and the Carpathian Basin (Starčevo-Körös-Criș complex), and the southern Balkans (Protosesklo and Sesklo pottery complexes in Greece, and Porodin and Anzabegovo regional pottery styles in Macedonia):
a)only intramural burials are known;3
b)burials were usually placed under building floors—mainly in the southern and eastern Balkans, e.g. Karanovo (Bačvarov 2003), Lepenski Vir (Stefanović and Borić 2008), Soufli (Gallis 1982), Szolnok-Szanda (Kalicz and Raczky 1982) and Trestiana (Comșa 1995a), in settlement pits mixed with other cultural material—mainly in the western and northern Balkans, e.g. Blagotin, Donja Branjevina (Karmanski 2005), Endrőd-Öregszőlők 119 (Makkay 2007), Gura Baciului (Lazarovici and Maxim 1995), Zlatara (Leković 1985), etc—or in occupation levels of settlements. In several instances burials of neonates were placed in pots, e.g. Anzabegovo (Gimbutas 1976, 397), Azmak (Bačvarov 2003).
c)there are no special grave constructions, although at Lepenski Vir a number of burials are covered or encircled by stone blocks, or found next to large rocks (Stefanović and Borić in press);
d) single burials dominate, but occasional double burials exist�
�e.g., Deszk-Olajkút (Trogmayer 1969, 7), Glăvanesti Vechi (Comșa 1995a, 246). Multiple burials are also found at several sites in the Danube Gorges—Ajmana (Stalio 1992), Lepenski Vir, and Velesnica (Vasić 2008), and elsewhere—e.g. Hódmezővásárhely-Kopáncs II, Szarvas-Szappanos (Trogmayer 1969, 5–7), Nea Nikomedeia (Rodden 1962, 1965);
e) where two or more individuals were found together, children frequently accompany adults (e.g. Ajmana, Jaričište, Lánycsók; Kalicz 1990).
f)almost all burials are flexed inhumations placed on their right or left sides.4 This varies between regions: for example, in the Körös group more burials were found on their left side (e.g. Trogmayer 1969). There is no differentiation on the basis of age or sex. The exception are extended burials from the Danube Gorges region (see below) and four others from elsewhere. In addition, two ‘burials’ with burned bones have been found and in several instances disarticulated secondary skull burials are attested, as well as burials without skulls;
g) there is no obvious preference in orientation, although slightly more burials are oriented with the head toward the east, especially among the Körös group in the Carpathian Basin (cf. Lichter 2001, 175);
h) there are slightly more adult or mature women than men, and more than a quarter of burials are subadults (Lichter 2001, fig. 10, 170);
i)burial offerings are rare, and may consist of 1–2 vessels, usually placed near the head—e.g. Cernatul de Jos, Cluj (Comșa 1974, 116), Franchthi (Jacobsen and Cullen 1981), Tečić (Galović 1967), bone awls (e.g. Lepenski Vir), flint (e.g. Cenad (Comșa 1974, 115), items of personal adornment (e.g. beads, pendants, and armbands: Franchthi, Gradešnica, Slatina (Bačvarov 2003) and in one case, at Golokut, the remains of animal skulls (Fig. 49.2a) (Borić 1999). Pottery fragments sometimes cover the burial (e.g. Gura Baciului, Lepenski Vir, Šašinci);