A brief discussion on the problems of understanding the exotic value and the sublime is included in this chapter for two reasons. Firstly, I state several times that tool traits may suggest added value or that they may be associated with the exotic or sublime. The term ‘the Other’ was also used in a discussion of aesthetics. These terms are all interrelated. Secondly, rare items, or those associated with wealth, prestige, or sublimation are often assumed to have predilection for ritual use. If this could be proven it would give a shortcut to identifying ideological important tools. However, there are problems. Firstly, for past societies such as ancient Egypt, it is in fact difficult to disentangle the exotic, added value and prestige and notions of ‘the Other’.
Secondly, we need to be sure that rare exotic or prestigious items were indeed related to ritual. Both steps in this assumption may be fallacious.
The rare, the exotic and ‘the Other’; definitions and identification
The desire to acquire scarce or exotic items seems ‘natural’ and widespread, thus commentators frequently do not attempt explanation (e.g. Goring-Morris and Belfer- Cohen 2001, 259–260). The exotic is usually equated with rank and prestige e.g. Shennan (1982); Gero (1989, 93, 97–99), though alternatives are sometimes cited. Taçon (1991, 194, 199) notes that stones from particular quarries in western Arnhem Land were sought for their mystical associations and cautions against the simple equation of rarity with prestige, because rarity is culturally dependent and may be socially manipulated.
163 The ancient Egyptian understanding of the rare and exotic is not fully
understood. It has been suggested that lists of items inscribed in temples, many of which include items which are exotic by virtue of rarity, demonstrate the power of pharaoh, his ability to command exotic items as tribute, that his power encircles the world. Thus, the stela of Hor (reign of Sesostris I) reads: “To whom belongs what the sun-disk encircles, for whom the Eye has been brought with all its brilliance,
specimens in all its shapes’’ (Galán 1994, 74). Conceivably too, exoticism may be associated with ‘the Other’, and, by association, be transformational (suggested by the several depictions of exotic plants and animals on temple and sometimes tomb walls, especially in the New Kingdom). One might imagine that strange (i.e. exotic) items be associated with the otherness of the gods. Such sublime items may also heighten emotions. Alternatively, or additionally, the exotic may be associated with prestige. From a narrow functionalist viewpoint, increased energy costs resulting from acquiring the exotic may imply wealth (e.g. Richards 1992, 1995) and the related areas of
prestige and rank (Gero 1989, 93). All implications need not be mutually exclusive, nor chronologically static.
Exotic and rare items are often equated with value by modern writers. As mentioned above, value may be added to artefacts through difficulty of acquisition. Added value may be obtained through increasing number of production stages or restricting access to items. Methods used to increase production costs may be interconnected with aesthetics, attention focussing devices, ideas of prestige, wealth and the exotic, and an increase in stylistic choice and thus, ultimately, the ability to represent metaphorically. Several writers see a link between increased production stages and increased social information (Malinowski 1961; Struever and Houart 1972; Rathje 1975; Hodder 1982b; Wiessner 1983; Sievert 1992, 8). The idea that style entailing a greater investment of time and energy is more likely to project symbolic35 messages is also stressed by Hovers et al. (2003).
Various reasons are suggested as to why exoticism, added value items and wealth markers correlate with ritual. Wiessner (1985, 162–163) states that the exotic and items with added value are more often associated with iconic style, which, as explained in Chapter 2, is related to ritual. The sublime is also connected with ritual (2.2.2.5). Wiessner suggests that the exotic is used in iconic style because artefacts requiring more effort are likely to more aesthetically pleasing. The nature of aesthetics and its connection with ideology was discussed above. Renfrew (1985, 19) suggests
35
164 that wealth investment (i.e. items which have added value) in equipment or offerings may mark ritual, because wealth marks the importance of ritual to the community. Investment of wealth or effort shows a person ‘means it’. Perhaps wealth also suggests something unusual and sublime, the ‘Other’, all of which are connected with ritual (2.2.2.5). It may also relate to power, since wealth is dependent upon power. Added value could proclaim manufacturers’ skill or the prestige of the owner, it may suggest that the artefact is somehow sublime, special.
Gero (1989, 94, 101–103) considers both degree of deliberate manipulation of raw materials, plus numbers of stages, and equates both with the quantity of social information an artefact might embody. ‘Like rarity of raw material, technological complexity directly embodies and represents high energy expenditure and control over more production labor’ (Gero 1989, 94). Gero firstly states that increased proliferation of production stages increases labour investment, and secondly, following Wilmesen (1974, 93), that ‘the more a specimen is purposefully shaped, the greater will be the potential for social input and, consequently, the greater will be the choice for stylistic elements to be incorporated into that specimen’s form.’ She (1989) simply concludes that bifaces have more production phases than flake tools and assumes that these therefore conduct more social information. She does not attempt to prove the link. It is noticeable that for Egypt, bifaces are often those items which in the Early Dynastic show elaborating hafting and are particularly fragile. These areas, as shown in this chapter, are also associated with metaphor.
But we should examine if added value does relate to ritual and ideology more generally. Sievert (1999, 61–62) measured ‘workmanship’ as an indicator of tools used for ritual activity by the Maya. By ‘workmanship’ she meant ‘how much time and care was invested in the tool’ (see also Sievert 1994, 151). She (1999, 83–84, fig. 9.3, 98– 99, fig. 10.7, 106) found that the greater number of tools in ritual and elite craft activity were ‘fine’ though there were also a high number of fair and crude examples.
There are several other ethnographic examples of items with few production stages used as ‘ritual’ tools. For example, pebbles and honey may be used in ‘ritual’ (Engelke 2004). For recent inhabitants of Irian Jaya province of Indonesia, stone is ideologically significant, despite technological simplicity (Hampton 1999, 202, 258).
The same applies for Egypt. Pinch (1993, 355) states of votive offerings to Hathor “There are degrees of quality, but it is the symbolic value of the votive offerings which seems to be the dominant factor”. Bard (1988), in a study of object types found in Egyptian Predynastic graves, demonstrated that rare materials did not
165 necessarily correspond with what could be considered the richest graves. At New Kingdom Deir el-Medina (map 7) the ‘wise woman’ Madja and her husband were relatively wealthy; however, her apparently magical artefacts were not exotic,
consisting of gazelle dung, shells, etc. (Meskell 1999). Even for New Kingdom royal tombs, rarity was not all important (Patch 1998, 36). Faience appears in elite graves because of its intrinsic symbolic/metaphoric value (Patch 1998). Texts show the magical significance of such materials as saliva (Ritner 1993, 74–88) and Amenhotep III had portrait heads of himself made in unbaked clay, possibly because of clay’s association with creation (Kozloff and Bryan 1992, 254). The Ptolemaic temple of Dendera (map 6) contains a list of some 24 minerals presented during Khoiak
(Mariette 1870 IV, pl. 36, col. 49–50; Mariette 1879 IV, pl. 39, col. 140–142; Cauville 1997 I, 19 and 27; Cauville et al. 1997 I, 34.3-4). This includes precious and
semiprecious minerals, but also flint. This is not simply a reiterating of kingly prestige but can be interpreted as a list of materials of which the Egyptian cosmos was
composed.
Cross-culturally the rare, exotic and sublime, and by association items with added value, are more often linked with ideology, but this does not exclude common items. However, even if we admit that exoticism and added value was significant in ideology in ancient Egypt, we need to know if flint tools had value of this kind. This cannot be decided by a simple examination of the material, particularly as value is often socially ascribed.
Was flint rare, exotic, or valuable?
The dominant Egyptological view is that flint was a poor person’s substitute for metal (see for example Ikram 1995, 70). It is not clear which period Ikram is discussing, but her view appears to be the dominant one for Dynastic Egypt in general36. However, the equation of flint with poverty may be questioned.
Several Egyptologists have attempted to unravel ancient Egyptian ideas of value. Richards (1992, 109–119; 1997, 37–39) ranked Egyptian materials, firstly, according to ‘effort expenditure’, and secondly, by an ‘Egyptian view’ of expense. In her effort expenditure indices flint is ranked 10, on a scale of 1 to 19, making it equal to carnelian, one point above alabaster, and one point below faience. The analysis is
36 That flint was only used after the Old Kingdom in religious ritual, and that was because of the lack of
innovation associated with ritual, has a long history in Egyptology (e.g. Findlay 1894, 228-229; Reisner 1938, 154; Eggebrecht 1973, 115; Wilkinson 1992, 189).
166 qualitative. Richards’ analysis does not take into account any manufacturing
techniques applied to flint which might drastically increase ‘effort expenditure’ and it assumes falsely that all flint comes from the same source.
However, the real concern with the ‘effort expenditure’ approach is that,
ultimately, value is socially ascribed. Access to raw materials and manufacture of tools may have been deliberately manipulated to artificially increase ‘effort expenditure’ and rarity. Value is not a simple property of the physicality of the object, and in fact, since almost anything can have value, one might argue that value is not even afforded by physicality, but rather depends upon two factors: how the material itself is considered and ‘read’ by users; the artefact biography (Renfrew 2004, 26–27), its social context. As shown in this thesis, 5.2.3, certain flint tools and certain types of flint were restricted to particular socio-economic groups.
Richards (1992, 109–119; 2005, 110–111) therefore uses a second index of ascribed value, ascertaining an Egyptian view. In this flint is ranked as ‘5’. Richards states that this is based both on Harris’ (1961) ranking of materials in Middle Kingdom texts and on a ‘cautious treatment’ (Richards 1992, 117) of Janssen’s work (Janssen 1975) on monetary value for the Ramesside Period. Janssen (1975) does not give any monetary value to flint, and I know of no texts of any period which do. Janssen (1975, 324) does say that a sft knife was worth 3 deben (glossary), but it is unclear whether a flint or copper tool is intended. Similarly, he gives prices for spears and axes, but assumes them to be metal.
Richards states that the consistency with which items were listed in Middle Kingdom texts led Harris to believe listing was according to perceived value. However, Harris (1961, 11–13) actually states that his grouping deals with
categorisation of materials, not necessarily their value. Nor does he restrict himself to a discussion of mortuary texts, or of Middle Kingdom texts, as I understand Richards to claim.
If, however, we assume that Harris is actually referring to value, it is apparent that flint is not consistently ‘ranked’ in texts, though some patterns of association are apparent. Flint is particularly associated with meteoric iron (Chapter 6). Flint also appears with mnw (quartzite) in an Abusir Papyrus (6.7.1.3); and on the Berlin amulet board an item of flint is substituted by quartz (Harris 1961, 138). It is also associated with HmAgt (granite or amethyst) – Cauville 1997 translates
HmAgt as amethyst; Harris
(1961, 118–120) translates it as garnet, ‘though identification with sard or even resin is167 not altogether impossible, and the problem cannot finally be solved’. At Dendera (Mariette 1870 IV, 39, col. 142) it is associated with THnt (faience) twice (Mariette 1870 IV, pl. 87; Cauville 1997 I, 123; Cauville et al. 1997 I, 234) and with gold (Chassinat 1935, 177).
Thus, flint is usually ranked with meteoric iron but also occurs with other substances. Richards gives gold an emic value of 13, quartzite 5, amethyst 5 and faience 7. Meteoric iron is not listed, though one would expect it to be at least equal to copper to which Richards gives an emic value of 9. Interestingly, Harris (1961, 24) equates the word aAt with ‘semi-precious stones’ (that is in contrast with stone used as the more common building materials), a list of which is given in the Dendera tables (Mariette 1870 IV, 36, 49–50; 39, 140–142). Flint appears in both these lists. So flint appears alongside semiprecious stones and materials to which Richards ascribes emic values of between 5 and 13.
However, the association of flint with these materials need not mean that it has the same wealth value as them; grouping may be according to ‘magical’ worth, or, as I suggest with the link between flint and meteoric iron, grouping may be by metaphoric set.
Meskell (1999, 183–212) also ranked Egyptian artefacts, this time grave-goods for New Kingdom Deir el-Medina (map 7) based upon possible cost as adduced from literary sources and material evidence analysed by Janssen (1975) and Smith (1992), and through actual numbers of tomb goods. Unfortunately, the monetary cost of flint is unknown (it is not given by either Janssen, or Smith) so it is unclear why Meskell (1999, 195) has given it a value of 1 deben.
As is shown above, and in Chapter 5, quantities of flint occur in Early
Dynastic to Early Old Kingdom elite tombs. Flint artefacts are also occasionally found in Middle–New Kingdom elite graves, despite the availability of metal alternatives. For example, as shown above, finely made flint arrowheads were found in tomb D29 at New Kingdom Abydos (map 4; plate 57) and amuletic flint artefacts were found in Tutankhamun’s tomb. Unfortunately however, we do not have sufficient information from a wide variety of New Kingdom tombs to associated flint with any one socio- economic class. Certainly the large quantities of flint found on the settlement site of Memphis (Giddy 1999) do not suggest any strong restriction, at least for flint generally (but see 5.2.3). Additionally, my own studies of material from New Kingdom Amarna
168 (maps 3 and 5) show that it was found in both rich and poor areas. All that can be said is that there is no evidence to suggest that flint was purely a poor person’s metal.
4.5 CONCLUSIONS
Certain items and periods seem to be equated with artefacts which by their form appear to have ideological significance. These items appear to be imbued with physical traits that are difficult to explain except by recourse to the suggestion that their purpose is metaphoric.
The evidence seems particularly salient with colour significance and fire connections. The Early Dynastic Period in particular suggests ideological significance through artefact physicality, though in later periods evidence for the flint and fire association becomes particularly marked in text.
In the Early Dynastic Period bifaces, in the form of flint knives and bifacial arrowheads, are particularly apparent. In this period, these items were not infrequently made from difficult to acquire materials such as rock crystal. The use of rock crystal and pale coloured flint, plus use of polishing, suggests that luminosity and colour were important factors for this class of tool. Knives and flint bracelets for this period are particularly fragile. Knives show curation, suggesting a link with ideas of durability. Elaborate hafting of knives is also apparent in the Early Dynastic, and flint animals largely date to this period. It is noticeable that, throughout, most evidence comes from elite graves.
By the mid Old Kingdom most traits suggesting ideological importance are absent from the tools themselves. However, the connection between fire and flint comes to the fore in the textual evidence for later periods. By the New Kingdom we have evidence for amuletic flint knives in the Theban area, as well as selection and enhancement of natural flint nodules (the nodules to be discussed in Chapter 5), again suggesting ideology was connected with these items. The evidence of the fine bifacial weapons from Mirgissa (maps 2 and 9) may show that ideology still impacted upon the working and use of flint even in the New Kingdom. The evidence of the nodules from Thebes (map 7) and the material from Mirgissa show that ideology connected with flint was perhaps not totally confined to the elite.
It is obvious from this chapter that although the physicality of an artefact might suggest its ideological constructs, this cannot be understood except through using a holistic approach. Not only do we need to examine all sources of evidence but we need
169 to look at the wider social context of the material. The resultant picture is of a tangled web of ideologies and physicalities.
170
5. ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE: FLINT
CONTEXTUALISED
Second, material metaphors need to be understood temporally in their actional and biographical context….
Tilley (1999, 264)
5.1 INTRODUCTION
The metaphoric meaning of artefacts cannot be reduced to physical properties. Context is vital to understanding (Hodder 1986; 1992, 14) and sometimes considered more important than physicality (e.g. Jordan 2003, 20). Goring-Morris and Belfer-Cohen (2001) thus plead for contextual studies in exploring symbolic (their term) meaning of lithics. Context can both suggest places to search and can elucidate meaning. Context may be social (actional and biographical context in living societies) or archaeological (the relationship between artefacts, their traits and findspots).
Briefly, context is integral to understanding ideology of materials because: • Certain contexts are assumed to be particularly ideologically apposite • The way in which artefacts signify metaphorically relates to context
• An artefact cannot be properly understood if separated from archaeological or social context
• Understanding artefacts across contexts can elucidate meaning
As in Chapter 4, the search for metaphor and its meaning starts with an exploration of traits inexplicable in simple utilitarian terms. Possible metaphoric meanings which fit with both the immediate context and the wider social context are then considered. As in Chapter 4, it is again evident that a holistic approach is vital for meaningful explanation.
The message transmitted by artefacts is not only constrained and allowed by social context (as well as physical properties) but metaphorical messages may emerge as a result of particular contextual situations. To give a semi-hypothetical example; flint and fire may be connected because flint has the physical ability to produce sparks when struck, but unless flint is used within a context allowing this manifestation the metaphoric link might not emerge. Similarly, the initial unavoidable use of flint in
171 cattle butchery may, because of ritual conservatism, lead to the general association of flint with sacrifice and its use in execration rites.
Furthermore, metaphoric patterns may be mirrored between artefacts (Gosden 2005) and between social contexts (Hodder 1992, 24; 2.2.1.2). For this to be
meaningful we need to be sure that linkage between artefacts in different social
contexts really relates to the same metaphor. For Egypt, where little detailed published contextual information exists, this is not easy, despite textual sources.
The main problem in studying the past lies in relating social context to
archaeological context, whether for ideologically dense contexts or for ‘profane’ sites because:
(i) An object may move between utilitarian and ritual spheres (Whitehouse, R. 1996, 12) making final deposition only part of an artefact’s biography, and one which may be atypical of its usual purpose. Final deposition tends to equate to burial rites, trash disposal, votives, or casual discard. Only in rare archaeological circumstances can we see the ‘other’ lives of objects. These include sudden site abandonment, accidental loss, manufacture or repair sites, or artefacts with related detailed iconographic or textual information.
(ii) Archaeological context rarely elucidates the wider social role. So, for example, a particular artefact type may be archaeologically votive, but why particular offerings were chosen is rarely clear.
(iii) Much social information is not available due to artefact decay or the lack of