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Pre-Nuragic Sardinia, however, will serve as a starting point for this .... published corpus of pre-Nuragic art. ..... Society and Archaic Civilization (Service 1971).
Journal of Mediterranean Studies, 2007

Thinking through the1:Body ISSN: 1016-3476 Vol. 17, No. 23–46

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THINKING THROUGH THE BODY: THE USE OF IMAGES AS A MEDIUM OF SOCIAL EXPRESSION ISABELLE VELLA GREGORY University of Cambridge In this paper, it is argued that the sculpted or moulded body serves as a medium of social expression and cohesion. The body is viewed as primarily a social, not biological, entity. Further, it is argued that naturalistic views of the body are inherently limiting. To illustrate the potential of body theory and embodiment, reference is made to images from the Neolithic to the Iron Age in Sardinia. Following Alfred Gell (1998), objects, in this case figurines, are seen to have secondary agency. The social interactions between primary and secondary agency are illustrated through the biography of the body.

The second largest island in the Mediterranean, Sardinia’s rich archaeological heritage is perhaps epitomized by the nuraghi, stone towers distributed across the island. The archaeology has attracted both local and foreign missions (c.f. Antona 1998, Atzeni 1978, Blake 1998, 1999, 2005; Ceruti 1997, Lilliu 1975, 1981, 1982, 1999, Tanda 1998, 2000; Trump 1990, Tykot 1994, 1999; Tykot and Andrews 1992, Tykot et al. 1999, van Dommelen 1998, Webster 1996). Research has focused on a variety of topics, although the emphasis on nuraghi continues to predominate. Pre-Nuragic Sardinia, however, will serve as a starting point for this paper. The Neolithic of Sardinia offers a wide range of sculpted imagery found in a variety of contexts. This imagery is intricately tied to concepts of social expression and complexity. It offers an insight not only into ritual, but also into ancient notions of the body and its relationship with society. Imagery survives in the Bronze and Iron ages, i.e. the Nuragic period, with notable and significant changes. The most immediate change is that, despite the continuation of stone technology, images are now made from bronze. The way the body is represented marks a complete break with the past and images are also found in a variety of new depositional contexts. The long tradition of making images, combined with their specific contexts, make Sardinia fertile ground for the study of the body. While, as discussed later, images in Sardinia have been studied and discussed, they have not Copyright © 2007 Mediterranean Institute, University of Malta.

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yet been approached as bodies. Despite the abundance of bodies, they remain largely untheorized. As discussed below, body theory has been central to both the social sciences in general, and the body in particular. This paper, then, offers both an embodied view of Sardinian archaeology, and a study of the body in Sardinia. Theories of the Body: The Naturalistic Body Versus the Social Body Naturalistic views of the body are by no means identical, but they constitute a fairly coherent approach that views the body as the pre-social, biological basis on which the superstructures of the self and society are founded (Shilling 1993). These views have exerted a considerable influence on how people perceive the body, sex and gender, and take the human body as the basis for social relationships. The human body was perceived as ungendered until the eighteenth century, although the male body was considered the norm. Under that perspective, the female body had all the parts of the male arranged in a different pattern. In the eighteenth century, however, science began to flesh out the categories between male and female based upon biological differences (Laqueur 1990). Sexuality was, in essence, given the status of giver of self identity. Subsequently, scientific investigations increasingly placed emphasis on the geography of bodies and their precise composition. From being a manifestation of self-identity and difference, the body was increasingly viewed as the very basis of human identity and social divisions. It gradually became accepted that the body provided access to uncontestable knowledge about individuals and society (Laqueur 1990). To a certain extent, the latter is still prevalent in contemporary body theory, albeit using very different discourses. Naturalistic views of the body are problematic on many levels. By the nineteenth century, there was an increased division between the structure and function of men’s and women’s bodies. Bodily differences had already been used to good effect as legitimation of the status quo. Over time, science was used to validate this legitimation, eventually culminating in sociobiology. Naturalistic views also predominated in archaeological reasoning. In conceptualizing gender, a direct link was assumed between sex and gender. For a long time, this direct correlation was assumed, rather than investigated (Gilchrist 1999). Difference between bodies was seen purely in terms of biology, and still is to some extent. Thus, women became hysterical and prone to hormonal influence, while men were strong and have hardwired survival instincts (Shilling 1993). Examples of this attitude in archaeological

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reasoning can be seen in discussions on the production of stone tools, an activity often only associated with men. Ethnography (Brandt et al. 2002) and archaeological evidence (Dobres 1995, Bird 1993, Gero 1991), however, show a different scenario. An additional problem is that many other archaeologists rely on the familiar distinction between sex and gender, biology versus culture. Whitehouse (1998) notes that while this is useful for analytical purposes, the philosophy underlying such a distinction has serious flaws. The distinction between a universal biology and a specific culture is untenable. Biology itself is socially constructed and culturally mediated. Thus, taking the western view of biology as an underlying, universal absolute is ethnocentric. While the sex/gender distinction may sometimes be useful, it has to be noted that it is a distinction between a modern, western understanding of biology and the ‘non-scientific’ understanding of biology (culture) (Whitehouse 1998). Thus, I argue that this distinction needs to be put aside if we are to understand the body as an entity. While acknowledging that there are cases where there is a high degree of correlation between sex and gender, a one to one correspondence is by no means universal. This problem is especially evident when dealing with imagery. The traditional concepts underlying sex and gender are often projected in their interpretation: weapons indicate male warriors. This is problematic on many levels. While weapons offer archaeological evidence for warfare, they do not necessarily indicate conceptions of masculinity tied exclusively to warfare and heroic exploits. Such images do not necessarily reflect the relative value of warfare in relation to other activities. The importance and significance of weaponry thus requires further investigation. By contrast, female and ambiguously sexed bodies with certain physical proportions translate to concepts of fertility, with scant attention being paid to the wider picture. The problem is not so much linking warfare with men and childbearing with women, but how these activities are assumed to have primacy or a lower value depending on traditional interpretations of sex and gender. Moreover, such an approach inhibits further investigation. It is assumed, for example, that a particular figurine is evidence of fertility and investigations are rarely taken further. However, there are productive avenues available for exploration. Sexually ambiguous imagery is testament to the fact that people have and express concepts beyond gender, concepts that are effectively expressed through and by the body. It is argued that by viewing the body as a social entity, we overcome many of these limitations. There is no one social theory of the body, but what these theories share is the view that the body is a receptor, rather than a generator, of social meanings.

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The body is shaped and constrained by society, rather than merely a biological phenomenon. Beyond this, both theories within the social sciences, and their application in archaeology, are very different and sometimes divergent. It took some time for sociology to consider the body as a phenomenon in its own right (Shilling 1993). The sociology of the body was initially inspired by philosophical, historical and anthropological treatments of the body. These were subsequently developed in sociologically relevant ways (Blaikie et al. 2003) The focus also tends to be on the body in social theory. By contrast, feminism has long addressed the body, albeit almost exclusively the female one, via medicalization, reproduction, pornography and violence. Second Wave feminism engaged with the body in terms of experience and body politic. However, while the body was central to thinking, it was approached somewhat obliquely (Bordo 1989). As Howson (2005) notes, it is only with Third Wave feminism that we see a theoretical focus on the body. In many ways, Foucault’s work on sexed bodies led to an expanding interest in the significance of the body in social and political theory, philosophy and literary theory, particularly as evidenced by the work of Butler (1990, 1993), Grosz (1994, 1995) and Gatens (1991, 1996). The diversity in social approaches to the body offers various perspectives for looking at Sardinian figurines, thereby offering an alternate view to predominantly art-historical approaches. Originally, theories of the body were applied to living bodies. Images, however, are a specific type of reflection of the human body. Body theory has successfully been applied to figurine studies (for example Bailey 1996, 2005; Holmes and Whitehouse 1998, Kokkinidou and Nikolaidou 1997, Lesure 1997, Marcus 1998, McDermott 1996). It is therefore profitable to explore the Sardinian context in light of body studies and their application to specific archaeological contexts. Embodiment and memory in Late Neolithic and Early Copper Age Sardinia The Sardinian Neolithic dates to the early sixth millennium cal. BC (Tykot 1999) (Table 1). The majority of Early Neolithic (EN) habitation sites are caves, which were often also used for burials. Middle (MN) and Late (LN) Neolithic cultures, recognized in ceramic terms as the Bonu Ighinu and Ozieri/San Michele cultures, are characterized by village settlements in the coastal lowlands and in the interior valleys along large water courses. Most MN sites were also occupied in the LN, which also sees the appearance of more sites in many interior valleys. Caves remained in use for both habitation and burial, but the vast majority of LN settlemens are open villages. An

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increase in social and religious complexity is seen from the MN onwards, finding expression in the elaborate tombs domus de janas, henceforth referred to as domus. Table 1. Calibrated 14 C dates for Neolithic and Chalcolithic Sardinia. After (Tykot 1994). Period

14

Early Neolithic Cardial I Cardial II Epicardial (Filiestru) Middle Neolithic Bonu Ighinu Late Neolithic San Michele d’Ozieri Sub-Ozieri Chalcolithic Sub-Ozieri Filigosa Abealzu Monte Claro Beaker

5700–4700

C date

4700–4000 4000–3000

3000–2200

Significant changes in settlement and ritual patterns occur in the Monte Claro (Copper Age) phase. The preceding Abealzu-filigosa phase is poorly known, but there is evidence for the sub-nucleation of previously dispersed Ozieri populations. By the Early Copper Age, some of the old domus are still in use, but there are new kinds of tombs, allées couvertes and chamber tombs, which are less architecturally complex and much smaller than the domus. From now until the Late Copper Age there is a reduction in size and elaboration when building new tombs. Following Gell (1998), it is argued that figurines are secondary agents. Further, it is argued that the body is not only a manifestation of a change in social relations, but also a central agent. The corpus of figurines discussed here is made of 131 figurines. It is based on Lilliu (1999), the most complete published corpus of pre-Nuragic art. As structured by Lilliu, the corpus was difficult to assess both quantitatively and qualitatively. Thus, textual information originally provided in a narrative format was transformed into information that could be read by a database programme. This enabled the creation of SQL queries and, ultimately, quantitative analyses. It should be noted that the so-called Venus of Macomer, which is included by Lilliu in the corpus, was excluded from analyses because of the possiblity that it is Palaeolithic.

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Lilliu offers only three broad stylistic categories (volumetric, plaque and perforated plaque). However, analysis has revealed important variations within these categories and further divisions made it possible to analyze the inherent diversity in this corpus. Unfortunately, a detailed stratigraphic sequence is not available and therefore it was not possible to determine whether this stylistic breakdown shows a longer intra-evolution. The categories employed are briefly discussed below, a longer description is offered elsewhere (Vella Gregory 2006). Volumetric figurines are sexually ambiguous compact representations distinguished by curvy lines. Elongated volumetric continue the former tradition but the compact roundness is replaced by an exaggeratedly elongated head, very narrow waist and curvy hips. These figurines also show increasing schematization. There is one spatula-shaped figurine which bears similarities to the elongated type but is more geometric in shape. By contrast, the round unperforated plaque category consists of oval-shaped plaques with no discernible facial or bodily features.The human form is instead represented geometrically. Geometric shapes dominate from now on. The unperforated plaque type are crucifix-shaped figurines represented by strictly defined lines. Typically, the upper body area is represented by a horizontal rectangle with no representation of the arms, only the shoulders. All have breasts, represented by two small lumps. The boddy narrows at the waist and widens again towards the bottom. The perforated plaque type bear similarities to the former. However, the arms are shown in entirety, with arms placed on the waist. Perforated thus refers to the empty space between the arms and the body. There are only four figurines which show male sexual characteristics. These are termed male plaque. One statue labelled by Lilliu (1999) as male is sexually ambiguous. For analysis purposes it was termed hourglass. The next two categories are represented by one figurine and two fragments respectively. These representations do not conform to any known type and further excavation might require a re-definition of categories. The first figurine is termed the Abealzu-Filigosa type. It represents a female executed in the naturalistic style. It has sloping shoulders, a possibly missing left arm and the right arm placed on the waist. Breasts and prominent buttocks are depicted. The vagina is represented by a deeply incised line. This figurine is not merely intriguing because of its style. The legs seem to end abruptly below the knee and are depicted only as stubs. It also appears that the left arm ends at the elbow. There is a possibility that this is a representation of physical disability (see Lilliu 1999: 71). The last category, termed head and eyes, is made of fragments of figurines showing squarish heads and bodies. Some facial features survive, namely deep eyes and faint traces of a nose. Lilliu (1999) classifies these as the

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plaque type; however the body shows no indication of being plaque shaped. This categorization overcomes the limits inherent in broad canonical classifications. There is, however, the problem of chronology. Radiometric dates do not adequately cover the entire Neolithic period, although carbon dating has at least established the duration of phases. Disagreements also exist over the actual carbon dates. The author follows Tykot (1994), who provides the most comprehensive range of calibrated dates. Many figurines come from uncertain contexts or from excavations which do not offer any stratigraphic details. Antona (1980), who follows Tykot (1994) in terms of carbon dating, notes that initially only six figurines, of the perforated plaque type, were found in stratigraphic contexts. However, new data enabled Antona (1998) to construct a new typological scheme, based on both excavation and radiometric dating. This has made it possible to assign figurines from surface finds and uncertain contexts to specific phases. The disadvantage is that only categories described by Antona (1980, 1998) could be included, namel volumetric, elongated volumetric, unperforated plaque (to which one can stylistcally add the round unperforated plaque) and perforated plaque—a total of 118 figurines out of a corpus of 130. The chronological distribution is illustrated in Graph 1. This leaves us with a sizeable corpus to analyze. First, figurines will be approached as secondary agents. Agency is a fluid term in archaeology and there is no widespread agreement as to its meaning. Recent agency theory stems from the work of Garfinkel (1984), Bourdieu (1977) and Giddens (1984), who see social agents as socially embedded and imperfect people. The New Archaeology was more concerned with systems than social agents. By contrast, post-processual archaeologies show an explicit concern with agency and people are seen as negotiating the world by both creating it and by being constrained by it (Dobres and Robb 2000).

Graph 1: Chronological distribution of styles.

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In agency theory, material culture frames and influences symbolic reproduction. There is, however, another dimension and one that is tied to the body. Material objects can also act as agents or, as Gell (1998: 17) calls them, secondary agents. An agent causes things to happen by his/her own intentions, but objects acquire second class agency ‘once they become enmeshed in a texture of social relationships’. As images, figurines are not merely a passive reflection of society. One of the many aspects of art is communication, which can be specifically qualified for a particular purpose, for example the special rules of performance (Tanda 2000). Thus, images are active and embody the ethos of a society. As Alberti (2001) notes, art objects are both the objectification of, and the conduit for, agency. Thus, images provide a crucial link between concepts of the body, representation and social practice. Figurines thus acquire a dual purpose, they represent the body as an artefact and also embody lived experience. As secondary agents, figurines represent a particular type of body and lived experience determined by primary agents. Bodies are not ahistorical. As Grosz (1994: x) notes, “it is not simply that the body is represented in a variety of ways according to historical, social and cultural exigencies while it remains basically the same; these factors actively produce the body as a body of a determinate type”. Table 2 gives an overview of bodily represenation through time in Sardinia. The Bonu Ighinu figurines represent the body in volumetric terms, with an emphasis on curvy lines. There is no variation in the type of body represented, but figurines have a variety of facial expressions. They are also made of a variety of materials, suggesting that people were using what was locally available. Sexual characteristics are distinctly ambiguous, thereby shifting the focus away from concepts primarily based on gender. A different scenario emerges in the Early Ozieri, with figurines materially illustrating a transition in social dynamics. Images are now semi-schematic and the emphasis starts to shift to strictly defined lines of representation. There is almost no emphasis on difference, but purely on conformity. By the Ozieri phase, the emphasis is completely on conformity. Figurines are now composed of a series of strictly defined lines. They are also made out of a limited range of materials—30 out of 53 are made of clay and 14 of marble. Another shift is that almost all figurines (46 in total) have female sexual characteristics. During the Abealzu-Filigosa phase, the only change in representation is from an unperforated to a perforated plaque type. All figurines are female and even more schematized. Clay, however, no longer predominates. Twenty-one out of 45 figurines are made of clay, 20 of marble and the rest limestone and calcite.

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Table 2. Figurine deposition, shape, detail and associated socio-economic events. Phase

Bonu Ighinu

Sex

Shape

Ambiguous Volumetric

Detail

Context

Material

Facial features, similar bodies

Small sample, mostly settlement

Cultivation more intensive. Cereal High variability processing.

Small sample, possibly Partly mostly schematic settlement

Early Ozieri

Female

Elongated volumetric

Ozieri

Mostly female

Unperforated Majority in Varied, but plaque Schemaic settlements mostly clay

AbealzuFiligosa All female

Perforated plaque

Limited

Very few clay, significant Majority in numbers in Schematic necropoleis marble

Other

Increase in trade

Increase in trade Menhirs with daggers. Precursor to LCA walled settlements

The shift from portraying ambiguous to female figurines has interesting implications in terms of embodiment. Judith Butler (1990, 1993) notes that the physical characteristics of the body are given social meanings through repetitive performance.Thus, both types of representation tell us something about the social meanings involved. The embodiment of ambiguity at the very least shows that sex did not need to be made explicit and materialized. The question then remains why people chose to make sex explicit. Grosz (1994) notes that the representation of the body is tied to the social conceptions and relations between the sexes. In turn, this influences how these relations are conceived. The body plays an active part in the formation of consciousness. As an entity, it is not neutral. At the very least, there are two kinds of body—male and female (Gatens 1996). Thus, we do not need to conceive of sexed bodies in terms of a Cartesian dualism, of maleness versus femaleness. Rather, we see agency as being practice through one type of body, whether ambiguous or sexed. The highly formalized Ozieri figurines cannot be taken to represent all that was female about Neolithic Sardinian women precisely because of their inherent, explicit formality. Instead it is proposed that as secondary agents, figurines were used to convey a message of lived experience based on strictly defined norms. The latter were embodied in a type of materiality that was visible and via a medium that many people were likely to understand.

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Here the philosophy of Maurice Merlau-Ponty comes in useful. MerlauPonty (1962, 1963) argued that the body is the condition and context through which one is able to have a relation to objects. The body is the very condition of our access to, and conception of space. Thus we perceive and receive information of, and from, the world through our bodies. Neolithic figurines were thus used as the means by which one received and perceived information of the world. The sculpted body represented the relationship between the individual and society, thereby playing a central role as a secondary agent in the construction and formation of identity. A different scenario emerges in the Early Copper Age. Quantitative analyses show an interesting trend regarding figurine contexts (Graph 2). First, it is important to discuss the nature of the context. Many figurines are surface finds so it is difficult to determine what type of site they originally came from. Figurines are sometimes found with debris from settlement contexts. Figurines found in cave sites present an interesting dilemma as caves and rock shelters were often used for both ritual and habitation purposes. Because of this uncertainty, figurines from such contexts were quantified as ‘settlement?’, thus at least considering the possibility. Where absolutely no information exists, they are quantified as ‘unknown’. Taking these factors into account, and the data presented in Graph 2, the following arguments are offered. There is only a small sample of Bonu Ighinu figurines and, there is no great discrepancy in their distribution and depositional context. Ozieri figurines, on the other hand, are concentrated mostly in settlements, with only 8 out of 53 found in a funerary context. In the following Abealzu-Filigosa phase there is a radical change in depositional context. First, figurines are now overwhelmingly found in a

Graph 2: Distribution of figurines according to context.

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funerary context (39 out of 45 figurines). Second, these figurines are in the old domus. This is especially significant considering that at this time, new burial sites were smaller and less ostentatious than the old domus. However, some of the old domus remained in use and it is here that we find the figurines. The shift in funerary focus reflects socially transmitted behavioural patterns in a cumulative inheritance system vested with the trappings of ideological symbolism. These behavioural patterns are especially expressed through the body, specifically the sculpted body. This shift in contextual focus represents a continuity with the past—a linkage that is made and kept via the body. The use of the past within the past has been the subject of many studies (see for example Alcock 2002, Bradley 2002, Lillios 1999). Societies have long been confronted with the physical manifestations of their own past. Material things thus embed themselves in the subsequent present (Olivier 2004). The past is therefore a key element in forming collective identities (Gosden 1994, Hobsbawm and Ranger 1983, Lowenthal 1985). In Early Copper Age Sardinia, figurines were central secondary agents which were essential for the construction and formation of identity. They provide clear material traces of linkages with the past and the construction of a relationship based on genealogy. It is not argued that figurines were direct representations of ancestors, a debate which is outside the scope of this paper, but rather they symbolized ancestors as a concept in a durable, material form. The body thus played a significant role. Figurines were an interface between different domains—the biological and the social, past and present, structure and agency. The body was placed in a locus that in itself was part of the past—the domus. However, using that locus without the body would have been far less effective. What was needed was a medium that was clearly known, visible and could be understood by everyone. While the body changes over time, its essence remains something that is both durable and recognizable. By essentializing memory corporeally, it was possible to both live that memory and keep it alive. Changing Bodies, Changing Times: Embodiment in Nuragic Sardinia A different scenario emerges in the Nuragic period, c. 2300–500 BC. Chronology presents complex problems. The Nuragic period is generally divided into phases I–IV. Disagreement exists on the division of the phases. For example, Webster (1996) includes the Early Bronze Age in his Nuragic I period, whereas Tykot (1994) defines the Nuragic I as starting from the end of the Middle Bronze Age. However, it should be noted that Tykot’s (1994) published

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date chronology errs on the side of conservatism. The raw uncalibrated dates he publishes lend support to Webster’s starting date of 2300 BC. It should be noted that chronology needs further refinement, but for the purposes of this discussion, Webster’s (1996) chronology will suffice (Table 3). Table 3. Nuragic chronology. After (Webster: 1996). Phase

Date, BC

Nuragic I Nuragic II Nuragic III Nuragic IV

2300–1800 1800–1300 1300–900 900–500

Nuraghi are conventionally described as stone towers and there are over 7000 in existence (Webster 1996). They can be classified in three broad categories—proto-nuraghi, classic nuraghi and complex nuraghi. Proto-nuraghi, also known as corridor nuraghi, consist of a raised platform that typically has only narrow passages or corridors, used for storage. They are fairly low buildings and their main function is for domestic huts, built on top of the platform. The huts were somewhat flimsy and not many survive. Classic nuraghi, also known as monotorri or tholos nuraghi are made up of a single tower with large walls and only a single opening to the outside. On entering, one typically finds a niche to the right, which leads to a central vault and a spiral stairway leading to the upper storeys and the roof. Roofs had projecting parapets. Classic nuraghi tend to be sited on prominent topographical features. Many are intervisible. They are also present in large numbers and densely distributed. At this time, some of the earlier nuraghi are still in use, but there is a decline in the number of open settlements. Complex nuraghi have narrow, elevated entrances, subsidiary reinforcing towers and curtain walls. Many of these were an elaboration of the earlier nuraghi, with more towers and connecting walls added over time. However, only a small proportion of existing nuraghi evolved into complex nuraghi and many of these are sited in areas lacking natural defences. The Nuragic III is the highpoint of Nuragic society. It also sees the introduction of new burial practices that are often used to infer social differentiation. Non-mortuary sites gain increasing prominence, for example sacred wells and water temples. The former tend to be located away from settlements or in areas between settlements. At this time there is also a wider participation and interaction with Mediterranean trade. During Nuragic IV, some nuraghi are restructured and other sites are abandoned. There is also an active trade with the Phoenician settlements.

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The Nuragic period is consequently one of significant changes in patterns of settlement, technology, economy, ritual and social complexity. During this time, the way the human body is conceptualized and represented changes radically. The discussion will focus on bronze images, termed bronzetti, which first appear in the Late Bronze Age. They are found in nuraghi, tombs, temples, shrines, sanctuaries, hoards and possibly artisans’ workshops. They are made using the cire perdue technique and some fragmented clay molds have been found at Santa Barbara-Bauladu (Webster 1996). Bronzetti represent both human and animal forms. They range from 2cm to 40cm in height and are often found in close association with miniature tools, weapons, jewellery, food and miniature vehicles. There are thousands of bronzetti and information about their context is very variable. Only a small proportion has been published to date and the largest compendium is provided by Giovanni Lilliu (1966). Detailed statistical analyses are currently in progress by the author; but taking into account current research, the following arguments are presented. The key points are the use of metal in sculpture, a significant change in form and a change in depositional context. In discussing a sample of 276 figurines from 95 sites, Lilliu (1981) notes that 24 come from the Oristano region, 27 from Cagliari, 56 from Sassari and 169 from Nuoro. The latter has two, large sanctuaries—San Vittorio di Serri and Abin. This sample is fairly representative in terms of geographical areas. The sites are not right next to metal sources, but they are not impossibly far away. Moreover, metal products are found practically everywhere on the island, suggesting intra-regional exchange. Lilliu (1981) notes that some artisans’ workshops have been identified near metal sources; two examples are at Marmilla and Sarcidano. The cire perdu method is a constant process of creation and destruction. While the shape of the body remains fairly similar across the board, there is a wide range of variation in detail. The role of the artisans in shaping the body thus requires further investigation. Only a few clay molds survive and remains of artisans’ workshops remain under-represented and under-published. While there are some studies on the chemical composition of bronzetti (see for example Atzeni et al. 1992), for the time being, inferences on the artisan are based on visual perspectives. Bronzetti can be assigned to the following broad categories, which sometimes overlap, namely armed people, unarmed people, gestures of offering, clearly sexed representations and zoomorphic representations. Traditionally, the vast majority of bronzetti are classed as male and armed men. In turn this is taken as indicative of an armed elite or warrior class

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that rules over shepherds, farmers etc. Figurines shown as veiled or praying are generally labelled as women or token priestesses. Information on bronzetti is currently being categorized for database purposes. While it is expected that database analyses will yield further information, the following observations are currently offered. Conventionally, Nuragic society is interpreted in terms of elites and chiefdoms (Lilliu 1962, 1966; Webster 1996). Militarism is considered essential in this scenario—Nuragic society was occupied with all things military. Consequently, many bronze figurines bearing weaponry are automatically interpreted as armed men. Their weapons are put within a general classification of other bronze weapons found in Sardinia (see for example Stary 1991). Anything not military is described as cultic, and cult and militarism are often tied together. Most of all, this approach is firmly framed within an exclusive art-historical perspective that is often concerned with aesthetics. There are several problems with this argument. As an approach, it is inherently limiting and completely ignores the body and embodiment. Bodies are never problematized, instead they are dismissed as existing biological entities that follow the rules of the cosmos. Further, the presumed militaristic nature of Sardinia can be contested on many levels. Most importantly, the near obsession with chiefdoms is very problematic. Chiefdoms were first proposed by Leslie White (1959), in his outline of social evolution. White did not theorize synthesize his ideas in a coherent model. This was done by his protégé Elman Service (1958, 1962), who came up with the band-tribe-chiefdom-state sequence system. His formulation was extensively criticized by Morton Fried (1967), leading Service to abandon his scheme and introduce the conceptual stages of the Egalitarian Society, Hierarchical Society and Archaic Civilization (Service 1971). However, he later re-introduced the term ‘chiefdom’ without explanation or reformulation (Service 1975). The history of the term chiefdom is convoluted. As a term, a universally applicable concept of chiefdom has not been satisfactorily theorized and modelled. An in-depth debate on chiefdoms is outside the scope of this paper. What anthropology has clearly shown, however, is that societies are too variable for political evolution to be condensed and categorized into a three or four-fold sequence (Southall 1970, Vail 1991, Yoffee 1993). Nuragic society is no exception. The presumed militarism of Nuragic society also needs to be discussed. Militarism and chiefdoms (complete with warrior chiefs) are based purely on the nuraghi, with bronzetti invoked as proof. The early nuraghi do not bear any physical evidence of militarism, war or conflict. They were simply a series of huts built on raised platforms. Classic nuraghi could perhaps

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suggest conflict. However, thick walls do not a fortress make. The thickness of the walls was necessary to support the great vaulted cupola of the central chamber and to accommodate the staircase. Their height could easily be purely for display purposes. Indeed, models of classic nuraghi suggest a concern with display and attention to architectural detail. Moreover, classic nuraghi, of which there are many, are often deliberately in view of each other. The density of their distribution makes constant warring, but not conflict, fairly untenable. Complex nuraghi, however, offer interesting challenges. These are most commonly associated with militarism. It should be noted that they appear fairly late in the nuragic phase and thus projecting possible militarism on earlier phases is untenable. Complex nuraghi do point towards some form of militarism, the extent of which remains unknown. That some conflict occurred during the process of accretion is tenable, but as yet it is difficult to assess the extent of this conflict. The concern with display, however, remains and is much intensified. Further research should shed light on the complex constructions of conflict. At this point it is worth noting a historically significant trend in Sardinian archaeological thinking. The notion of a warrior is well discussed in the Classics. Many of the features of the Classical warrior have been projected onto the Nuragic people. This has much to do with the development of archaeology as a discipline, which, in Italy has been strongly linked to Classics. However, the social context of, for example Greek heroes and warriors is very different from that in Sardinia and as such, the idea of a specialized, socially important warrior class seems anachronistic. So how do we interpret these seemingly warrior-like figurines? Leaving aside, for the moment, the presumed military nature of nuragic society, can we argue that weapons automatically indicate a warrior, complete with an elite warrior class? Certainly a concern with arms, armour and fighting is tenable, especially in the later nuragic period. However, the status of these armed people is more difficult to establish. The decision to portray an armed person is culturally meaningful. However, focussing on the actual body of the presumed warrior reveals many interesting details. For example, the archer from the National Museum of Cagliari (Lilliu 1982: 193) presents an interesting example. The body is lithe and there are no attempts to display physical strength. Facial expression is clearly indicated and statistical analyses should reveal the number of variations and the contexts in which they occur. The daggers and swords are careful replicas of actual swords found in similar contexts. However, while the archer is holding a bow and arrow,

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the act of shooting the arrow is deliberately not depicted. The left arm rests gently on the side. The bow and arrow are held in the right hand. Overall, it is a rather peaceful depiction of a warrior. Other bronzetti are sometimes labelled as mythical warriors or heroes, for example the figurine from the National Museum of Cagliari (Lilliu 1982: 176). It is commonly described as a hero or demon. This is a particularly interesting depiction of the human body. There is a clear emphasis on duality—two pairs of eyes, two shields and a prominent pair of horns. It is a clear example of a body that was not intended to be human and it is these non-human representations in particular that are conventionally interpreted as heroes, echoing the mythical hero of Greek epic. Non-warriors are generally described as a depiction of the simple agrarian life. Yet, in terms of workmanship these bronzetti often have the same level of facial detail and variety of expression. There is a wide range of ‘nonwarrior’ bronzetti, showing many aspects of Nuragic life. What the bronzetti have in common is that they show an interesting degree of individuality. It might be argued that they are following convention. For example, bodies are predominantly tall and lithe. However, this can be explained in technological terms and how metal is being worked, a topic that is currently under investigation. The question of militarism still looms. If we consider these bodies as representative of different sectors of society, it becomes easier to reconcile the seemingly predominant theme of warriors. In this way, the ‘warriors’ no longer remain encapsulated and can be seen within the wider context. Not isolating a specific subset of one class of material broadens the scope of investigation. It becomes possible to try and understand that part of nuragic society set in bronze. One aspect of bronzetti that invites analysis is gesture. Gesture is here defined as any kind of bodily movement and posture, including facial expression, that transmits a message to the observer. Gestures can accompany speech or they can be a substitute thereof. It is also acknowledged that the body can transmit messages without movement. As has been argued above, the body is not neutral and passive. Therefore, gestures are taken as an integral part of embodiment. Since the Renaissance, physiognomists like Giambattista della Porta, Charles le Brun and John Caspar Lavater have tried to codify facial expressions tied to emotion and character (Thomas 1991). In the late nineteenth century, Charles Darwin (1872) gave support to the view that physical expressions might be biologically inherited. However, while gestures are universal, they cannot be seen as a universal language. As early as the nineteenth century, Andrea de Jorio (2000) argued that gesture has many languages and dialects. This idea was further elaborated

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by Mauss (1935), in his discussion of the basic elements of physical behaviour. Like symbols, the meaning of gestures is context-dependent. The author is in the process of conducting statistical analyses on gesture. By quantifying gestures and cross-referencing the data with contextual information, it should be possible to get a better understanding of gesture in nuragic Sardinia. So far it seems that almost all armed persons seem to have a solemn facial expression. One example from Teti, however, has a facial expression that can be interpreted as surprise or awe. Non-armed people are sometimes shown with a smile on their face. It is hoped that quantitative analyses will make it possible to further analyze gesture. The Sardinian bronzetti present a range of bodies that embody the essence of nuragic culture. As secondary agents, they played a central role in nuragic society. The focus on bronzetti as art objects, while useful, has had the effect of almost taking them out of context. Bronzetti became a separate entity divorced from their context. By looking at bronzetti as contextualized bodies, it becomes possible to view them as part of the wider perception of embodiment. Material Agents The constructed database provided the opportunity to investigate the applicability of new models of embodiment to the Sardinian figurines, The development of an embodied concept of agency has been shown elsewhere to retain an emphasis on the significance of the practice and material context (Howson 2005). This approach, which deviates from the standard art-historical and typological approach, offers a new perspective on social relations in Sardinia via the study of the body. Shilling (1997: 738) views embodiment as a bridge between structure and agency, arguing that human agents possess ‘senses, sensualities and physical habits that have been partially socialized, but that continue to shape, as well as be shaped by, social structures.’ Shilling’s approach stresses the dialectic between socially shaped embodiment and embodiment beyond the social. He thus introduces a concept of embodiment that stresses the importance and influence of forms of knowledge and consciousness. Embodiment also needs to be tied to materiality. Burkitt (1999) notes that artefacts have an essential bearing on embodied action. They invite and enable practice by being functional and by the functions they are given. In turn, this enables the transformation of the social and material world. While Burkitt follows Bourdieu’s (1992) concept of habitus, for him habitus is seen as an orientating rather than a determining concept.

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Both Burkitt (1999) and Gell (1998) attribute a form of agency to material objects. Archaeology has long recognized that materiality is deeply embedded in culture (Hodder 1991), although the view that material objects have agency is not always made explicit. By viewing the material object as embodied it becomes possible to tie bodies to materiality and to tie the sculpted or moulded body to the human body. The embodied object thus becomes part of the larger web of being-in-the-world. In Sardinia, the Neolithic change in how the body is represented signifies a move towards greater social cohesion, a concept that was expressed, at least partly, through the body. Late Neolithic concepts of being-in-theworld were expressed by strictly defined lines and uniform schematization. There was a decisive and marked shift to conformity. The focus on conformity continued throughout the Early Copper Age. However, there were some notable changes, especially the shift in funerary focus. This was not merely a return to the past, but also an explicit use of the body in establishing genealogy. Early Copper Age people consciously returned to, and re-used, the old domus both for burial and the deposition of figurines. They actively acknowledged their past and they chose to materialize this conscious decision by making figurines and placing them in sites which materially expressed the past. In the Nuragic period, bodies present a stark contrast in terms of how the body was represented. Figurines are still seconary agents, serving as a medium for social expression. However, this was done in a very different way. These changes are attributed to both the appearance of a new technology and to different concepts of being-in-the-world. The distribution of metal sources and the techniques required for making bronzetti suggest that they were produced by people who had the required skills, people conventionally termed as artisans. The artisan was following norms and conventions defined by society, but he or she was not merely a passive participant. The artisan shaped, and was shaped by, social structures. The very process of manufacture requires an active engagement with production. Production and technology are not merely a functional response to a pre-existing need (Pfaffenberger 1992). Archaeologically speaking, the distinction between style and function remains wholly artificial. This becomes evident when looking at bronzetti. The assumption that bronze casting was invented because of a functional necessity can be challenged on many levels. First, it assumes a preexisting need. In this view, figurine production would be seen as the response to carrying out specific ritual tasks, thus closing avenues for further discussion, for example symbolic meaning. Second, nuragic people could have continued producing figurines out of stone, but they made a conscious decision not to.

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Thus, while technology merits analysis, it cannot be invoked to explain figurines, or the appearance of bronzetti. Technology is culturally embedded (Lemonnier 2002) and different technologies are deeply embedded in belief systems (see for example Schmidt and Mapunda 1997). This becomes especially evident in nuragic Sardinia. Bronzetti are ubiquitous and they are placed in socially important places. The subject matter mirrors many aspects of nuragic life. It is clear that technology is not separate from society, rather it is both shaped and produced by society. Bronzetti moved along several trajectories, from their manufacture, distribution and use. They thus provide an opportunity to look at object biographies. Appadurai (1986) argues that commodities (loosely defined as objects of economic value) have social lives. Bronzetti have several levels of value that is not merely economic. Simmel (1978) views value as a judgement made about objects, by subjects. Thus, the value of bronzetti was not merely economical and judged in terms of metal, but also social. Bronzetti were primarily valued for their ritual significance. The same argument is made for Neolithic and Early Copper Age figurines, notably the Early Copper Age shift in contextual deposition. The trajectory of the sculpted body is in itself an act of embodiment. A culturally informed biography of an object looks at an object as a culturally constructed entity endowed with specific meanings and classified and re-classified into culturally constructed categories (Kopytoff 1986). By also taking embodiment into account, it becomes possible to see not only the trajectory of a type of body, but also how that body (the image) interacted with other bodies. Images, whether of stone or bronze, moved through different contexts—the created body was thus linked with the human body. The systematic quantification of figurative representation in Sardinia had been long overdue. Quantification has made it possible to look for patterns based on region, style, raw material etc. This information was then examined in the context of social and body theory. By looking at the trajectory of the body in Sardinia, it becomes possible to look at the wider social structures. Bodies both shape and are shaped by society. In looking at the social pathways of material objects, archaeologists also examine the social lives of the people who made and used them. The scope for studying a specific class of artefacts thus goes beyond economic value, wherein the social body becomes a focal point for the understanding of the very society which helped shape and create it. Acknowledgements: I am most grateful to the Cambridge Commonwealth Trust, without whose financial support this research would not have been

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possible. I would like to thank Anthony Bonanno for encouraging me to write this paper, and Nicholas Vella for his support and suggestions. I am grateful for my supervisor Simon Stoddart, who is always ready to listen and offer challenges. Sincere thanks are due to Christopher Smith, for his kindness, encouragment and excellent suggestions and to Michael Brass and Natasja de Bruijn, for their insights and patience. Any remaining errors are strictly my own. References Alberti, B. 2001. Faience goddesses and ivory bull-leapers: The aesthetics of sexual difference at Late Bronze Age Knossos. World Archaeology 33(2): 189–205. Alcock, S. E. 2002. Archaeologies of the Greek past: Landscape, monuments and memories. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Antona Ruju, A. 1980. Appunti per una seriazione evolutiva delle statuette femminili della Sardegna prenuragica. (ed.) Atti della XXII riunione scientifica dell’Istituto Italiano di Preistoria e Protostoria, ‘Sardegna centrosettentrionale’, 21–27 ottobre 1978. Firenze: Istituto Italiano di Preistoria e Protostoria, 115–147. Antona, A. 1998. Le statuette di ‘Dea Madre’ nei contesti prenuragici: alcune considerazioni. In Balmuth, M. S. and Tykot, R. (eds.) Sardinian and Aegean chronology: Towards the resolution of relative and absolute dating in the Mediterranean. Proceedings of the International Colloquium ‘Sardinian stratigraphy and Mediterranean chronology’, Tufts University, Medford, Massachusetts, March 17–19, 1995. Oxford: Oxbow Books, 111–119. Appadurai, A. 1986. Introduction: Commodities and the politics of value. In The social life of things: Commodities in cultural perspective, (ed.) Appadurai, A. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 3–64. Atzeni, E. 1978. La Dea Madre nelle culture prenuragiche. Sassari: Gallizzi. Atzeni, E., Massidda, L., Sanna, U. & Virdis, P. 1992. Some metallurgical remarks on the Sardinian bronzetti. In Sardinia in the Mediterranean: A footprint in the sea. Studies in Sardinian Archaeology presented to Miriam S. Balmuth, (eds) R. Tykot and T. K. Andrews, Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 347–354. Bailey, D. 1996. The interpretation of figurines: the emergence of illusion and new ways of seeing. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 6(2): 291–295. —— 2005. Prehistoric figurines: Representation and corporeality in the Neolithic. London and New York: Routledge. Bird, C. 1993. Woman the tool maker: Evidence for women’s use and manufacture of flaked stone tools in Australia and New Guinea. In Women in archaeology: A feminist critique, (eds) H. Du Gros, and L. Smith, Canberra: Department of Prehistory, Research School of Pacific Studies, Australian National University, 22–30. Blaikie, A., Hepworth, M. & Turner, B. S. (eds) 2003. The body: Critical concepts in sociology. London and New York: Routledge.

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