Papadopoulos, 'Placing the Gods: Sanctuaries and Sacred Space in Ancient Greece', Bryn Mawr Classical Review 9506
URL = http://hegel.lib.ncsu.edu/stacks/serials/bmcr/bmcr-9506-papadopoulos-placing
@@@@95.6.1, Alcock/Osborne, edd., Placing the Gods
Susan E. Alcock and Robin Osborne (edd.), Placing the Gods:
Sanctuaries and Sacred Space in Ancient Greece. Oxford: 1994. Pp. x +
271. $55.00. ISBN 0-19-814947-6.
Reviewed by John K. Papadopoulos, Antiquities -- The Getty Museum
jpapadopoulos@getty.edu
The study of sanctuaries and of cult activity has always held a
privileged, if not elevated, position in both classical archaeology and
Aegean prehistory. The central role of cult in ancient Greek society and
its impact on both an individual and a communal level would be disputed by
few scholars. This meticulously edited and usefully illustrated volume
focuses on the significance of where the worshipping of gods took
place. The point of departure is Francois de Polignac's now classic La
naissance de la cite grecque: Cultes, espace et societe VIIIe - VIIe
siecles, published in 1984, in which it was argued that the
geographical placing of cult centres played a major part in establishing
the concept of the city-state in the Archaic period. De P. stressed that
the sacred landscape was dynamic and that the physical construction of
such a landscape went hand-in-hand with the construction of Greek polis.
De. P's general theory not only significantly shifted focus from earlier
works which considered the placing of sanctuaries in the Greek landscape,
such as Vincent Scully's The Earth, the Temple, and the Gods, but
provided a new avenue of enquiry and understanding in the formation of the
Greek state by suggesting that religion and politics were more intimately
intertwined than was previously thought. It also sought to account for
phenomena previously considered separately, thereby producing an
interpretative model. In essence, de P. succeeded in combining
anthropological structuralism with a concern for social archaeology,
particularly the brand espoused by Anthony Snodgrass, to inspire a revival
of interest in early Greek religion. The plethora of recent publications,
including the present volume, is ample proof.[[1]] Not all scholars have
accepted de P.'s conclusions,[[2]] but this has led to healthy debate and
a much clearer understanding of a formative period of Greek history.
Versions of several of the papers were presented at an Archaeological
Institute of America Colloquium in 1991: "Sanctuaries in Outer Space:
Locating Cult in Ancient Greece."[[3]] As a collection of essays by
well-known, mostly younger scholars, Placing the Gods has many
strengths, not least of which is its broad geographical coverage and its
diachronic scope. The latter extends de P.'s analysis back to the Minoan
and Mycenaean era and well beyond the Archaic period by extending the
study to Hellenistic and Roman Greece. For all this, the editors are to be
highly commended. Another strength is the sharp focus of the book, as
various essays continuously refer back to de P.'s central theory, reading
like a virtual Festschrift for him.
The eleven essays presented in this volume vary so much in scope and
in time that to treat them collectively by way of a review would lose much
of importance. Rather, I will treat each of the papers separately.
The first essay, by de Polignac himself, "Mediation, Competition and
Sovereignty: The Evolution of Rural Sanctuaries in Geometric Greece" (pp.
3-18), is a succinct, well annotated, and compelling restatement of de
P.'s own position ten years after the publication of La naissance.
Translated from the French by Osborne, the essay is vital reading for any
student of Greek religion. New finds since 1984 have undermined de P.'s
emphasis on profound change in the 8th century, and the present essay
modifies some of his views about the abruptness of these changes. The
concepts of Mediation, Competition and Sovereignty form the basis of de
P.'s evolutionary model across the Bronze to Iron Age transition. Such an
evolutionary model, as de P. insists (p. 18), is not a positivist concept
of gradual and linear evolution, but rather a path from mediation to
sovereignty against a backdrop of change from one state to another. De
P.'s point of departure is the extra-urban cult-place, whether it is a
simple altar, a sacred grove, or a monumental temple. The urban nucleus
itself is only one component of the landscape of the city: "the territory
of a city is understood as the 'space of the citizens'" (p. 3). Although
territory is defined, more could be said about what the city actually is,
particularly in the 10th-9th centuries. Whatever the vicissitudes of
regional diversity, the majority of rural cults, including the Argive
Heraion, are seen to have been, in their original form, rallying and
meeting points for the local population. Such locations gave rise to
festivals, likened to fairs, which are considered as occasions for
exchanging hospitality and for sharing between neighbouring
communities.[[4]] It was here that trade deals were settled, alliances and
marriages made, at the level of peer-polity interaction. The "citizens" in
this early phase are seen as participants interacting on a relatively
equal footing. The cults are located at convenient points within a
regional or local network of settlements, none of which can yet aspire to
dominate the sanctuary. The Early Iron Age sanctuary at Isthmia is
considered a classic example of this form of mediation, located close to
communication routes forming the only fixed point at which the local
population, seen as scattered and living in mountain areas (p. 5), can
meet and exchange goods. Although not far from the sea, Isthmia is
categorized as a "mainland" form of sanctuary. There is much emphasis
here, as there is elsewhere, on Isthmia, since archaeologically visible
cult installations in the immediate post-Mycenaean period (i.e. in the
11th century according to conventional chronology) are exceedingly rare.
This represents just one departure from La naissance, where Isthmia
received far less attention. A second form of mediation is considered to
be the result of an increase in sailing and maritime commercial activity
in the Aegean from the 10th century B.C. on. This leads to the appearance,
"almost everywhere" (p. 6), of cults on coasts, promontories or at the
mouths of rivers. Again, the use of such sites reflects the important
place these cults held in formal processes of exchange. De P. points to
the cults of Artemis in Attica as examples of this form of mediation,
particularly those at Brauron and Mounykhia.[[5]] Moreover, some of these
sanctuaries provided an intermediary in contacts and exchange between
foreigners, especially Phoenicians, and coastal residents, presumably
Greek. It is here that Phoenician maritime expansion is briefly considered
and reference made to the sanctuaries of Herakles/Melquart, along the
route leading to metal-rich Thrace and Thasos, and the sanctuary of
Aphrodite/Astarte at Kythera. De P. is quick to note that the Phoenician
foundations of such cults, later "Hellenized" by the Greeks, have not been
confirmed archaeologically, although he does list Kommos as a probable
example of a Phoenician sanctuary. A good deal more could be said about
the Phoenician and eastern complexities of many early sanctuaries in
Greece,[[6]] and certainly much more could be said about the economic
motivation of such foreigners,[[7]] but de P. prefers to draw attention to
the Samian Heraion, which he calls "a purely Greek sanctuary" (p. 7). The
diverse, international dedications found at Samos are regarded as a chain
of complex and variable exchanges; both gifts and pillage played a part,
as did Phoenicians, Cypriots, Samians and other Greeks travelling across
the Aegean. Hera on Samos reigns over maritime space in the same manner
that Hera at Prosymna protects the Argive plain and the relations which
unite its communities.
In attempting to explain the origins of an extra-urban sanctuary de
P. has to manoeuvre across the Bronze to Iron Age transition. This he does
by trying to balance the opposing notions of continuity and rupture, and
by arguing that a simple comprehensive social model should not be applied
on account of differing conditions. Be that as it may, de P.'s analysis is
firmly rooted in the Early Iron Age, and his reluctance to tackle the
nature of Bronze Age cult results not only in a certain level of
superficiality, but a lack of temporal depth. On the one hand, he sees
sacred landscape as shifting and fluid in nature, on the other, he begins
his diachronic analysis at a time when our evidence is paltry. Is the
structure of the archaeological record so radically different in the Early
Iron Age that his hypothesis of mediation cannot, and should not, be
applied to what went before? Here we are hampered by a real lack of
archaeologically visible evidence, but if a notion of profound
changes is embraced, then it is necessary to explain what the new
Early Iron Age pattern has changed from. If, however, one accepts de P.'s
statement that the first generation of cults appears in the 10th century,
then this genesis corresponds, in de P.'s reckoning, to a period of
stabilization of contacts and exchanges, following the instability and
contraction of earlier centuries. Such contacts could be established
between neighbouring regions (e.g. Olympia, Kombothekra, Tegea, Kabirion,
Hyampolis, Hymettos, the Cretan caves) or with passing sailors (Samian
Heraion, Mounykhia, Brauron, Polis cave on Ithaka, Kommos). But the
spectacular development in the visibility of these cults is not in the
10th century, but rather in the 9th and 8th centuries. In order to explain
this change, a new transforming factor is introduced: the phenomenon of
ritualized social competition (p. 11). The materialization of this
phenomenon is the notable increase of metal prestige offerings, especially
the tripod cauldron. De P.'s notion of ritualized competition is not just
one of the victor's prize, but rather a concept in which the sanctuaries
were becoming theatres of increasingly ostentatious rivalry between
aristocrats in the expression of power and authority. The tripod is not
only a prize, but a symbol of authority. The obvious problem of why such
competitions had to occur in extra-urban sanctuaries is essentially
explained by the argument of "energy expenditure". De P. sees remoteness
as a determining factor; hence "distance confers a greater price, a
greater prize, and a greater prestige on gathering at certain places" (p.
11).
In contrast to the extra-urban, cults as enacted at intra-urban
sanctuaries consisted of sacrificial meals within a building in which the
resident aristocracy gathered round their kings. Here the meal, not the
dedication, is of importance, and access to such meals, by way of cult,
clearly expressed the authority of the local dominant group(s). The
sacrifice, along with the sharing and consuming of the goods, "allowed the
basileis regularly to bring into play and to strengthen the
multiple networks of alliance, solidarity, and dependence which gave them
authority over the inhabitants of the region" (p. 12). Whereas
sanctuaries at a distance from centres of power remained secure from
seizure of direct control, sanctuaries close by found themselves in the
midst of complex processes of appropriation. By the 8th century B.C., de
P. argues, two rivalries find expression in the common sanctuary. The
first between aristocracies of different small towns of the region; the
second where the basileis display in each community. Because of its
central and shared status the rural cult becomes the principal place in
which conflict is repeated and ritualized. De P. argues that the rural
sanctuary became the site of an appropriation which was at first symbolic
and then actual. It is here that we move from mediation and competition
into the realm of sovereignty, and the genesis, in de P.'s estimate, of a
first form of state. Such a mechanism saw different situations arising in
accordance with different conditions. The classic scenario is represented
by Argos and the Argive Heraion, against which the experiences of Sparta
and Athens-Attica are compared and contrasted. Different blends of
mediation and competition explain the various developments at the majority
of rural sanctuaries: sanctuaries expressive of the territorial
sovereignty of the city; sanctuaries promoting regional federation;
sanctuaries suitable for interregional or Panhellenic gatherings. I was
surprised that the Geometric settlement on the promontory at Zagora on the
island of Andros, was not only neglected by de P., but by all authors in
the volume. This site represents the most fully excavated Geometric
settlement in the Aegean. With regard to cult it provides an interesting
case, which does not easily fit into de P.'s model, nor into alternative
models such as temples replacing a ruler's dwelling.
Having developed and modified his model for mainland Greece, de P.
turns his gaze to the colonies. The path between mediation and sovereignty
is seen as retaining a fundamental place in colonial cities. The Heraion
on Cape Lacinium south of Kroton is compared, for example, with the Samian
Heraion. Despite such a comparison, the colonial roles are played out at
the level of the city as a whole, and, as such, the field of
competition is moved from within the city towards the outside and towards
"the other" -- indigenous populations. For de P., non-urban cult in the
colonial Greek world conveyed a clearly identifiable cultural model,
offering "indigenous elites a theatre in which they could all compete for
prestige by adopting these forms as distinctive signs of social
superiority" (p. 17). Central in de P.'s argument is the notion that, in
comparison to the Greek mainland, colonial societies in their early days
were egalitarian. Despite the fact that a society of full equality may be
an ideal never realized,[[8]] de P.'s argument with regard to the colonial
experience oversimplifies a number of more complex processes (we will
return to these in the essay by Susan Cole).[[9]]
I have concentrated too long on de P.'s paper, but as an updated
summary of La naissance it represents a significant contribution
and forms the basis by which the following papers are defined. Chapters 2
and 3 critically examine the importance of sanctuary placement in the
Minoan and Mycenaean worlds. In "After the 'Big Bang' --What? or Minoan
Symbols and Shrines Beyond Palatial Collapse" (pp. 19-36), Alan Peatfield
seeks to understand the nature of changes in Minoan religion from the
Neopalatial to the Postpalatial period. His two basic questions are 1) was
there a religious fragmentation concomitant with the political and
economic fragmentation evident in the Postpalatial period? 2) what does
the proliferation of different cult places in the Postpalatial period tell
us about contemporary society?[[10]] His paper begins with an historical
perspective in which he attempts to define his own study as a diachronic
one and to cast it as "progressive". He also points to the relative
neglect of the Postpalatial period and his contribution attempts to
address this imbalance. P. proceeds to describe the salient features of
rural sanctuaries in the Neopalatial period, drawing much on his earlier
work on Minoan peak sanctuaries.[[11]] He summarizes the significant
topographic characteristics of the peak sanctuaries and notes that they
appear late in the Prepalatial period, that all are in use by the
Protopalatial period, but only a few (those associated with palatial/urban
centres) survive into the Neopalatial period. He sees in this transition a
fundamental transformation from a diffuse peasant/popular cult to a
centralized, elite-dominated one (p. 23). As important as this
transformation is, P. is content to describe it and seems reluctant to
provide any explanatory thesis. This is to be regretted since there is
much fertile ground here. To his credit, P. notes that there is some
correlation of Neopalatial peak sanctuaries with the palatial polities. He
dutifully cites the important contributions in this field by John
Cherry,[[12]] but does not seize the opportunity to consider how these
materializations of cult bear on the question of state formation in the
Palatial period, nor whether they may have contributed to his "Big Bang"
theory. P. also discusses other cult manifestations in the rural
landscape, namely caves and "sacred enclosures". He argues persuasively
that both of the latter are far fewer in number than previously
supposed.[[13]] This in itself is an important contribution and goes far
in addressing an earlier imbalance where scholars were quick to see
religious significance in all manner of things Minoan. P. draws attention
to the important distinction in material features between the peak
sanctuaries, on the one hand, and the caves and sacred enclosures, on the
other. These are important observations, but I was surprised by P.'s
failure to distinguish between extra-urban/palatial sanctuaries (peak
sanctuaries, caves and enclosures) and the alleged intra-urban/palatial
sanctuaries or shrines, of whatever form, whether real or imaginery, that
have been a preoccupation of Minoan archaeologists since the days of
Arthur Evans.[[14]] This is a serious omission, particularly in the light
of de Polignac's framework, which ultimately effects P.'s conclusions on
the Postpalatial period. For P. the primary evidence for Postpalatial
religion is the phenomenon of the Goddess-with-Upraised-Arms (henceforth
GUA). The presence of such figures allows the recognition of Postpalatial
shrines, since P. states that many have been found in shrines, mostly
bench sanctuaries, frequently with "snake-tubes". Dripping as they do with
symbolism, P. lists a minimum of 18 sites which participated in this cult.
Such sites are invariably independent sanctuaries within
settlements; according to P. they are public shrines and the GUA is a
manifestation of public cult rather than an object of private devotion. In
contrast to the settlement sanctuaries, there is very little evidence for
rural shrines in the Postpalatial period. On the basis of this evidence P.
concludes that "this strongly indicates that the centralized Neopalatial
structure of integrated palatial and rural cults simply ceased to exist"
(p. 32). Although this may be true, P.'s failure to analyze the
Neopalatial intra-urban shrine leaves much to be desired. Moreover, is the
Palatial Minoan "snake goddess" really that different from the
Postpalatial GUA? And does this constitute, as P. states, a "redefinition
of fundamental importance" (p. 33)? Part of the problem lies in the "Big
Bang" analogy; a catchy phrase for a title, but not the most enlightening
model. In order to posit such a cosmic fragmentation or rupture, one has
to look at the society at large, not just supposed religious
manifestations.
In Chapter 3 James Wright looks to the Mycenaean era in "The Spatial
Configuration of Belief: The Archaeology of Mycenaean Religion" (pp.
37-78). This contribution goes a long way in revealing how little we
really know about Mycenaean religious beliefs. The map (p. 39, ill. 3.1)
lists a grand total of six sites as certain Mycenaean sanctuaries (Aigina
[Aphaia], Amyklai, Asine, Mycenae, Phylakopi and Tsoungiza). W. begins his
study by listing three broad categories of Mycenaean religious sites: 1)
megaron with central hearth and throne; 2) "shrine building"; 3) open air
settings. He notes that there has been little agreement among scholars as
to how the available evidence can be fitted into these categories and also
a lack of rigour, even neglect, in stating the criteria for their
selection. In order to rectify this situation, W., following Colin
Renfrew,[[15]] moves "towards establishing the theoretical basis of an
archaeological recognition of religion and in constructing a methodology
for its reconstruction" (p. 39). In so doing W. casts his net wide; he
begins with the work of Geoffrey Conrad, Arthur Demarest, Pierre Bourdieu
and Anthony Giddens, and then moves on to cite a multitude of scholars
from Emile Durkheim and Arthur Saxe, to Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels.
There is overkill here, and it is not always clear that the
anthropological and economic theory cited is well digested. The thrust of
this theory is to establish, first of all, "the fundamental relationship
between belief and culture" (p. 40), and, secondly, that "it is
theoretically possible to examine and to some extent derive meaning from
the archaeological record of a society by studying the organization of
dwelling, the spatial form of settlement and distribution in the
landscape, especially if a long-term record can be documented" (p. 41). It
is a feature of Aegean prehistory and classical archaeology that the fewer
material remains one has, the more theory one uses, and vice versa.
The lack of evidence for cult installations in the Mycenaean world,
especially in the Early Mycenaean period, forces W. to look at what
evidence we have. There is much of value to such a holistic approach but
in the end we are left with a shaky physical referent. In W.'s framework
geographic places and their components are invested with a sacred meaning
that frequently refers back to the human body. Thus the components of the
human body are seen as metaphors for social and cosmic structures. In this
way W. attempts to give substance to cognitive space. He proceeds to give
his study temporal depth, by beginning his analysis with the Middle Bronze
Age and moving into the Palatial (Late Helladic). In keeping with his
theoretical framework, W. analyzes the spatial organization of the
settlement. There is, however, in what W. means by "spatial organization",
a hint of good old "ground-plan" archaeology. Walls, defined spaces, and
permanent installations, such as pithoi, dominate this perspective. W. is
careful to incorporate burial evidence, and this adds an important
dimension to his study. But throughout his analysis it is the hearth,
physically and conceptually, that forms the inner core, the "holy of
holies". Although conceding that the hearth symbolizes the centre of
state, W. believes that it also describes a cult institution of power and
authority, not only reinforcing the state, but also demonstrating "the
priority of religion in the organization of the seat of power" (p. 58).
Here there is much grey area between the secular and the divine. Even the
columns surrounding the hearth are imbued with symbolism, "they are not
merely decorative" (p. 58). Although I do not doubt the deeper symbolic
meaning of the column, I feel that W. has gone a little too far. Moving
from the megaron, W. discusses the "Cult Centres" within citadels and then
the locales of cult activity outside the palaces (pp. 61-72). One is again
reminded about how little we know about visible Mycenaean cult activity.
Even the shrines within the citadels considered as "certain", such as the
"Cult Centre" at Mycenae and the "Shrine" at Phylakopi, are not as
straightforward as W. would have us think. In dealing with the East and
West Shrines of so-called Sanctuary at Phylakopi, Emily Vermeule wrote:
"... in the end it is not even certain whether they were workshops or
religious storage areas rather than shrines in a formal sense ..."[[16]]
Indeed, many of the features ennumerated by W. as common to "cult centres
within citadels" do not disallow that these buildings were for the storage
of cult paraphernalia. W.'s study attempts to view old, well-known,
material in a new way, but it is the material itself that is problematic,
much of it poorly preserved, quantitatively meagre and archaeologically
invisible. In one sense, W.'s approach to the material overwhelms the
information it actually yields.
The challenge, posed by de Polignac, of continuity and
rupture over the Bronze to Iron Age divide is taken up by Carla
Antonaccio in "Placing the Past: the Bronze Age in the Cultic
Topography of Early Greece" (pp. 79-104). A. aims to contribute
towards an understanding of the development of the sacred
landscape of the protohistorical Greek Iron Age. Her essay
summarizes and builds on material covered in her recently
published monograph, and in several articles discussing similar
themes (and sites).[[17]] A. believes that the developments seen
in the Late Geometric period were the result of a continuous and
intensifying development. She draws attention to tomb and hero
cult at Mycenaean tombs during the Early Iron Age and goes on to
consider how Bronze Age sanctuaries, tombs and habitation sites
structured the landscape in certain parts of Greece. She hammers
home de P.'s idea of how sanctuaries articulated the territory of
the nascent poleis and she distinguishes between de P.'s
"monocentric" pattern, assigned to Athens, and the "bipolar"
model used for other communities. This done, A. proceeds to
discuss Bronze Age sanctuaries, tombs and palace/ settlement
sites. Her map of Bronze Age sanctuaries (p. 87) does not
completely match that provided by Wright (p. 39). She focuses on
Argos, de. P's classic "bipolar" model,[[18]] and on
"monocentric" Athens. The case of Sparta is thrown in between and
presented as another model, different from Argos and Athens,
essentially in its distinction (politically and geographically)
between the helots and the Spartiate masters. Unlike other
poleis, the Spartans did not try to bind the different elements
of their population, but rather to keep them apart. A. concludes
by drawing the various threads of evidence together, particularly
how cult is located to structure the physical territory and to
articulate borders at points of contact between different groups
(or ethne). The use of tomb cult, followed by hero cult,
fully treated in her monograph, adds much to her discussion. A.'s
insistence, however, in concentrating on Argos, Sparta and
Athens, already treated by de P., reworks well-trodden ground and
leaves the Early Iron Age landscape reliant on the same few major
sites.
In chapter 5, Catherine Morgan, having previously dealt with
Olympia and Delphi within the framework established by de
Polignac,[[19]] turns her attention to the Corinthia in "The
Evolution of a Sacral 'Landscape': Isthmia, Perachora, and the
Early Corinthian State" (pp. 105-142). In 1984 de Polignac
discussed the region briefly, mentioning Perachora and listing
Isthmia as a border sanctuary in the 8th and as the site of a
major temple in the 7th century B.C. M. outlines the evidence for
the origins of the Isthmian shrine and the early activity at the
site, before focusing on the "real changes in the material
expression of religious belief" in the 8th century (p. 125), also
a period of great expansion at the sanctuary of Hera at Perachora
(pp. 129-135). M. then moves to Corinth proper (pp. 135-138) and
to the final piece in her puzzle, the temple on Temple Hill at
Corinth (pp. 138-139). Her essay concludes with a lucid overview
of continuity and change in Corinthian religion (pp. 139-142). A
great deal of space is devoted to early Isthmia, and this
provides a useful summary of the Mycenaean and Early Iron Age
material from the site which M. will be publishing soon in a
forthcoming volume in the Isthmia series. Although there
is evidence for Mycenaean activity at Isthmia from Late Helladic
I to IIIC, M. goes to lengths to show that the origins of
religious activity can be placed at the very beginning of
the Protogeometric period (mid 11th century B.C.). Such a date,
if correct, would make the site one of the earliest
post-Mycenaean religious centres. Although the site produced no
evidence of any building earlier than the first large temple
(terminus post quem now 690-650 B.C.), cult activity is
"assured" in the Early Iron Age on the basis of the deposit found
in the SE temenos. This consists of a concentration of
redeposited ash, packed with bone (burnt and unburnt), unburnt
pottery, as well as a small quantity of figurines and jewellery,
and eight 8th-century tripods. The non-ceramic material of
earlier date is not great, nor is it possible to distinguish the
deposit stratigraphically from earliest Protogeometric through
Protocorinthian. The primary pottery shapes are drinking vessels,
mainly cups, but a wide range of other shapes is also
represented. Though considered "cultic", is such a repertoire
that different to the fills of contemporary wells in the area of
the later Athenian Agora, or at the Toumba building at Lefkandi?
Be that as it may, M. does not provide any details of the bone
(no mention of species, nor whether any of it is human). The
earlier Mycenaean remains consist of "small scatters of pottery
with no spatial focus, plus a few small Psi and Phi figurines"
(p. 110). For M. there is nothing to suggest that during
Mycenaean times there was anything more than a modest settlement,
whereas the homogenous ash deposit of the Early Iron Age is
cultic. No doubt this will be fully explained in the forthcoming
volume, and the bone properly detailed, but on the basis of the
evidence presented here, this reader is dubious about pre-8th
century cult. One final point is that in dealing with Corinthian
cult in general, M. is firmly rooted in the Greek perspective;
the Phoenician and eastern complexities of Corinthian cult, many
of them dating back to the 7th century, if not earlier, are
nowhere considered.[[20]]
In chapter 6, "Archaeology, the Salaminioi, and the Politics
of Sacred Space in Archaic Attica" (pp. 143-160), Robin Osborne
returns not only to his preferred hunting ground, Attica, but
also to the 7th century, a period he previously characterized as
a crisis in archaeological history.[[21]] He rightly points to a
lack of dialogue between historians and archaeologists and states
that too much interest has been concentrated on two separate
areas in the study of the sacred geography of Attica. The first
is the development of the polis in the 8th century, firmly based
on archaeological evidence; the other on the Peisistratid
centralization of cult, deeply rooted in literary evidence. The
study of these two poles fails to consider developments between
700 and 550 B.C. Having set his sights on the 7th century, O.
launches into a full-frontal assault on the "orthodox" view,
represented by Catherine Morgan and Alan Shapiro,[[22]] of the
development of cult and Archaic Athens. Two crucial aspects in
his argument are: the continued spread, first of all, of cult
activity in the face of declining evidence for other forms of
activity. Secondly, the persistence with which energy and
material goods continue to be devoted to cult activity on sites
far from the centre (p. 151). By questioning the orthodox view,
O. considers the priestly family known as the Salaminioi and the
generally held assumption that they did not come into Attica
until the 6th century. By relocating the Salaminioi and their
cults to the 7th century, O. demonstrates how radically our
understanding of the political developments of sacred geography
in Attica is transformed. Not all historians will agree with such
a relocation, but O.'s arguments are compelling, not least
because he musters both the literary and archaeological evidence,
to argue for the use of cult to stake a claim to territory as
well as town before 700 B.C. Moreover, the 7th-century expansion
of cult activity is seen in terms of marking out claims for the
whole community, rather than as a mark of division. By exploiting
the Salaminioi as a model, O. views Athenian cult practice and
politics as linked from the beginning, a link that had nothing to
do with Peisistratos.
It is not until chapter 7, "Sanctuaries in the Chora
of Metaponto," (pp. 161-198) that we move from Greece to her
colonies. In his opening statement (p. 161), Joseph Carter sets
the tone of his study: "A major criticism of current theorizing
about Greek rural sanctuaries and their relation to the 'birth of
the city' is that elaborate theoretical structures rest on
inadequate factual bases ..... What is needed ..... are detailed
studies of the phenomena, case by case." This is exactly what C.
proceeds to provide. Succinct and well-illustrated, the chapter
is a useful overview of cult activity both in the urban centre of
Metaponto and the territory of its chora. Cast in the genre of a
preliminary report, in the best tradition of classical
archaeology, C. draws on the results of both excavation and
surface survey in one of the better documented archaeological
regions in the Mediterranean. No fancy French theory for C.,
however. The name of de Polignac is cited only twice, both times
with reference to the Italian translation.[[23]] On the second
occasion he takes exception: on p. 177 C. argues that a large
number of rural shrines came into existence in the chora of
Metaponto in the 6th century B.C., at about the same time as the
area was extensively occupied. The majority of these are located
along river valleys, often in close proximity to farmhouses. "As
they appear in the context of a densely occupied territory, they
cannot be, as has been urged by de Polignac, territorial markers
for the polis, nor do they occupy, except in a few cases ....., a
frontier between the familiar world of the chora and ....
the no-man's land at the edge of the chora" (p. 177). Here
I would have welcomed more debate between C. and de P.,
especially since C.'s views directly challenge those of de P.
Methodical in its detail, though devoid of stimulation and
challenge, the chapter is essential reading for English-speakers
interested in this region of southern Italy without wishing to
plough through numerous Italian reports and conference
proceedings. The paper provides the necessary base from which
this region may be more fruitfully explored in the future.
The colonial experience is further discussed, in a more
penetrating way, by Susan Cole in "Demeter in the Ancient Greek
City and its Countryside" (pp. 199-216). Demeter was rarely the
principal deity of a Greek city, but she was worshipped by Greeks
wherever agriculture was practised. De Polignac in 1984
characterized the typical sanctuary of Demeter as "peri-urban",
providing a link between city and chora. This link was magnified,
according to de P., in the colonies, since "peri-urban"
sanctuaries offered indigenous populations the opportunity of
assimilation by adopting Greek cultural forms. The true picture,
however, as envisaged by C. is more complex. By surveying over
fifty Demeter sanctuaries in the Greek world mentioned by
Pausanias, C. is able to speak with authority on the cult of this
goddess. Sanctuaries of Demeter can be found on city acropoleis,
though usually remote from primary habitation areas, in a village
outside, in the suburban countryside, or at the borders of the
territory. C. shows that there were a variety of determining
factors in the choice of site for such sanctuaries, including
topographical considerations (water source, hillside, separation
from inhabited areas, clear visibility of agricultural
territory), as well as local history. Moreover, C. demonstrates
that votive deposits for Demeter are not only very consistent,
wherever they are found, but that by the 7th century B.C. Greek
cities had formalized women's rites for the goddess in remarkably
similar ways. This is the first time in this entire volume that
the question of gender in cult activity is aired. It is
done subtly and to great effect. By concentrating on the cult of
a single, but well-distributed, deity, and bringing into play the
question of gender, C. provides important insights into the
structure, function and context of social organization, against
the backdrop of the agricultural needs of the city, whether in
Greece or abroad. This is an important essay that in its own
quiet way shakes de Polignac's foundations for its lack of gender
view.
In Chapter 9, Madeleine Jost discusses "The Distribution of
Sanctuaries in Civic Space in Arkadia" (pp. 217-230), a sequel to
her previous work on sanctuaries in Arkadia.[[24]] This is the
only paper in the volume to provide illustrations of the region
discussed. From the outset, J. underlines that the distribution
of sanctuaries in a region is related to the physical geography,
its human geography and its political life. She places much
emphasis on the physical landscape: "In Arkadia, as elsewhere,
certain places seem destined to be considered sacred, and certain
types of landscape attract cults of one divinity rather than
another" (p. 217). J. begins by discussing the various physical
features of the landscape which dictated choice of site (spring,
grove, cave, peak, hillock), then the landscape preferences of
individual gods (pp. 219-220), before considering the network of
sanctuaries (pp. 220-225). These display a variety of
configurations, and sanctuaries in the countryside outnumber
those of the town. Having set the Arkadian stage, J. concentrates
on the case of Megalopolis, which provides a revealing link
between city and countryside. She writes: "Few political facts or
events have a significant influence on the religious topography
of a region" (p. 225). Synoecisms, however, are an exception,
since they bring about a partial remodelling of the religious
landscape. The example of 4th-century Megalopolis is interesting.
Despite the displacement caused by synoecism, old rural
sanctuaries were maintained, while urban cult centres were
created in order to avoid the total deracination of the
traditional population. The link between rural and urban cults,
referred to as "doublets", is discussed within the framework
established by de Polignac. But J. goes further by revealing two
contradictory sentiments that lie behind the politics of cult:
"the idea that the principal sanctuary in the countryside has a
character of its own that is bound to the place where it is
situated and cannot be transposed elsewhere; and the desire to
create some reminder in the town of the rural sanctuary, not to
rival its prestige or assume control of it but rather to
recognize its importance and the loss which its total absence
from the town would create" (p. 228). This adds a new slant to de
P.'s concepts of mediation, competition and sovereignty. The
complementarity between rural and urban sanctuaries was made
concrete by religious processions and sacrifices, which increased
the cohesion of social groups by means of common activity. J.'s
thorough knowledge of this large and varied part of the Greek
mainland, allows her to point to subtle correspondences, varying
from city to city, between the sanctuaries of the countryside and
those of the town.
In Chapter 10, "Trees in the Landscape of Pausanias'
Periegesis" (pp. 231-245), Darice Birge looks at an aspect
of cult activity that few archaeologists can ever see. A natural
element, trees differ from all human constructed features in the
landscape. As B. shows, trees may serve as spatial markers within
a physical territory on account of their being stationary and
visible, as well as temporal markers because of their longevity.
By exploiting the testimony of Pausanias, B. distinguishes
between stands of trees as features of the physical landscape,
single trees, stands of trees at hero shrines, and stands of
trees at shrines of gods. The importance of trees in cult
activity serves as a warning to archaeologists and provides just
one aspect of religion that is, in the main, archaeologically
invisible.
In more ways than one, the final essay by Susan Alcock,
"Minding the Gap in Hellenistic and Roman Greece" (pp. 247-261)
is not only the most refreshing, but the one that extends the
discussion of sanctuaries and sacred space furthest. A.'s focus
is Greece in the Hellenistic and Roman periods. She emphasizes
the need to consider sacred landscapes through time, as well as
the need to reinforce contemporary literary sources with
sophisticated archaeological evidence (primarily the carefully
and critically scrutinized evidence from surface surveys, which
is addressed on pp. 248-253). A.'s point of departure, however,
differs radically from that of all the other papers in this
volume. She turns her attention first to that most abundant and
copious of all archaeological finds: negative evidence, that is,
the absence of material traces of human activity. While other
papers in the volume are concerned with where sanctuaries were
placed, A.'s concern lies in the problem of where they were not,
or rather by cases where known sanctuaries disappear or cease
functioning. Continuing the contrast, A. moves away from the
larger cults, toward the smaller. Many of the latter are not
particularly large, nor particularly rich in votive offerings;
moreover, they rarely appear, with the exception of Pausanias, in
our literary and epigraphic sources. By focusing on the negative
and neglected, A. provides a penetrating avenue for enquiry and
exposes the complex pressures which reworked both the political
and religious landscapes of Greece under Roman rule. In so doing
she points to the inadequacy of traditional explanations, which
have relied heavily on notions of economic distress and
demographic collapse. By invoking the proverbial glass--either
half-full or half-empty--A. reveals how much the negative
evidence can provide. It remains for someone to apply her method
to the Early Iron Age.
NOTES
[[1]] Especially R. Haegg, N. Marinatos and G.C. Nordquist
(edd.), Early Greek Cult Practice. Proceedings of the
Fifth International Symposium at the Swedish Institute at Athens,
26-29 June 1986 (Stockholm 1988); C. Morgan, Athletes and
Oracles: The Transformation of Olympia and Delphi in the Eighth
Century B.C. (Cambridge 1990); N. Marinatos and R. Haegg
(edd.), Greek Sanctuaries: New Approaches (London and New
York 1993).
[[2]] The most recent is C. Sourvinou-Inwood, "Early
sanctuaries, the eighth century and ritual space: Fragments of a
discourse," in Marinatos and Haegg, ibid., pp. 1-17, who suggests
that de P.'s hypothesis radically falsifies ancient realities.
[[3]] Abstracts published in AJA 96, 1992, pp. 348-349.
[[4]] Cf. L. Gernet, "Frairies antiques," in Anthropologie de
la Grece antique (Paris 1968), pp. 21-61.
[[5]] For the Sanctuary of Artemis at Mounykhia see now L.
Palaiokrassa, To hiero tes Artemidos Mounichias (Athens
1991).
[[6]] See, for example, S.P. Morris, Daidalos and the Origins
of Greek Art (Princeton 1992); M. Kochavi, "Some connections
between the Aegean and the Levant in the Second Millennium B.C.:
A View from the East," in G. Kopcke and I. Tokumaru (edd.)
Greece between East and West: 10th - 8th Centuries B.C.
Papers of the Meeting at the Institute of Fine Arts, New York
University March 15-16, 1990 (Mainz 1992), pp. 7-15. Note also de
Polignac's own paper, "Influence exterieure ou evolution interne?
L'innovation cultuelle en Grece geometrique et archaique," in the
same volume, pp. 114-127.
[[7]] See especially S. and A. Sherratt, "The growth of the
Mediterranean economy in the early first millennium BC," World
Archaeology 24, 1993, pp. 361-378.
[[8]] See P.K. Wason, The Archaeology of Rank (Cambridge
1994), p. 1.
[[9]] See also I. Edlund, The Gods and the Place
(Stockholm 1987).
[[10]] See further AJA 96, 1992, p. 348.
[[11]] See references given on p. 20, n. 3.
[[12]] Cited on p. 21, n. 10.
[[13]] E.g. B. Rutkowski, Cult Places of the Aegean (New
Haven and London 1986).
[[14]] These feature prominently in Rutkowski, ibid., pp. 21-45,
and especially pp. 119-153.
[[15]] C. Renfrew, The Archaeology of Cult. The Sanctuary at
Phylakopi (BSA Suppl. 18, 1986).
[[16]] E. Vermeule, Review of Renfrew, The Archaeology of
Cult, in AJA 92, 1988, pp. 293-294.
[[17]] C.M. Antonaccio, The Archaeology of Ancestors: Tomb
Cult and Hero Cult in Early Greece (Lanham, Maryland 1995);
her published papers are cited on p. 269.
[[18]] The Argive Heraion forms one pole and the settlment of
Argos, with its sanctuaries, the other.
[[19]] Morgan (n. 1).
[[20]] The most succinct account of these is by C.K. Williams,
II, "Corinth and the Cult of Aphrodite," in M.A. del Chiaro
(ed.), Corinthica: Studies in Honor of Darrell A. Amyx
(Columbia, Missouri 1986), pp. 12-24.
[[21]] R.G. Osborne, "A Crisis in Archaeological History? The
Seventh Century in Attica," BSA 84, 1989, 297-322.
[[22]] Morgan (n. 1); H.A. Shapiro, Art and Cult under the
Tyrants at Athens (Mainz 1989).
[[23]] F. de Polignac, La nascita della citta greca: Culti,
spazio e societa nei secoli vii e viii a.C. (Milan 1991).
[[24]] M. Jost, Sanctuaires et cultes d'Arcadie (Paris
1985); ead., "Sanctuaires ruraux et sanctuaires urbains en
Arcadie," in A. Schachter (ed.), Le sanctuaire grec
(Geneva 1992).