2 Agency and individuals in long--term

processes
Ian Hodder

Introduction
Archaeological data raise the issue of scale in a most extreme forn1. On the one hand, the
processes observed by archaeologists stretch out over spans of time which are difficult or
in1possible for ind ividual actors to con1prehend or perce ive. These are the processes of the
long term, the rise and fall of cornplex political syste1ns, the slow transfor1nation of subsis-
tence technologies, the longue duree of mentalites, -rhe battle-ship curves of styles, and so on.
Archaeological ernphasis n,n the long tern1 is reinforced by patterns of survival and recov-
ery. Fro1n 1nany periods and areas, fe\v sites survive or few have been excavated with 1nod-
ern scientific techniques. Thus, there is little choice but to talk of the large scale, the
generalized, the gross patterning. There are also sociopolitical reasons for the archaeologi-
cal focus on the long tern1. For exa1nple, archaeology grew in Europe as an inherent part of
nationalisn1, to provide a long-tern1 basis for the nation state, and reference to the long-
term archaeological past is an integral part of many indigenous clairns to territory today.
Within the Western acade1ny, archaeology identified itself as a separate field of inquiry by
opposing its concern ,,vith the long tenn to the shorter spans dealt \'vith in sociocultural
anthropology (in the United States ) and· in history (in Europe).
On the other hand, archaeological understanding of the long term is built up from traces
of the sn1allest and least significant of acts. Our data are prod uced by the dropping and
breaking of a pot and the kicking or tossing of its sherds. They are produced by the discard
fro1n 1neals, the kr1appi11g of fli11t or the scratching on clay. True, there are also the walls of
houses and temples protected in tells and the monuments built to last in open landscapes.
But even these \Ve increasingly understand as co11structed at particular 1noments in ti1ne for
specific historical purposes; the social 1neanings of these temples and 1nonun1ents do not
stay the sarne. Again, there are sociopolitical factors involved. Archaeologists in Europe
defined the1nselves as different frotn historians by their concentration, not on elite texts,
but on the 1n undane practices and residues of daily life.
These radical differences in scale inherent within archaeological data and \Vithit1 the
archaeological discipline, 1night be supposed to have encouraged theories·;vhich deal fully
\Vith the relationships between individual events and large-scale process. On the wh.ole,
however, ai1d especially over recent decades, in both processual and postprocessual archae-
ology, archaeologists have eschewed the small scale in favor of long-tenn trends. It was
particularly in trad itional cul~ure-historical archaeology that atte1npts were 1nade to
conceive of the "Indian behind the art ifact," for exa1nple in identifying the individual
"hand" of the painter of a Greek vase (Hill and Gunn 1977), or in discussions of the i11ten-
tionality of Caesar crossi.ng the Rubicon (Collir1!5':i.1ood 1946). But si nce th e 1960s, the
 22 Ian Hackler
emphasis l1as shifted to the "system behind the Indian behind the artifact." Despite the
rhetoric of many recent theoretical perspectives in archaeology, in \,\1 hat follows I argue that
insufficient attention has been given to the role of srnall~scale events ar1d processes \vithin
the long ter1n. I argue that arcl1aeologists have come to focus on agency and on the
construction of individuals, selves, and subjects. I argue, follo\:ving Meskell (1996; Knapp and
Meskell 1997) that this constructivist position is inadequate, and particularly inappropriate
for dealing with the particularity of archaeological data: the radical differences of scale. I
argue that there is a n eed to shift fro1n agency and the construction of social beings, to
individual narratives of lived lives ar1d events.

Agency
In 1ny view, the early uses of tl1e tern1 "agency" in postprocessual archaeology have to be
understood in ter1ns of an opposition tl1at \Vas being made with the term "bel1avior." The
use of the latter tern1, even if not associated specifica lly \Vith behav iorism, \Vas seen by crit~
ics as i1nplying a passive stin1ulus- response view of hun1an action, ar1d as i1nplying the
description of events from an external, distanced point of view: "her arm "vas raised" as
opposed to the agency:.centered view that "she raised her arm."
The notion thac..1naterial culture "vas active derived from a critique of the vie\v of social
syste1ns as peopled by actors ~ ho respond predictably to events and produce 1naterial
1

culture as by,products of those responses. It could be shown that individual actors actively
used rnaterial culture (Hodder 1982) in their co1npeting, contradictory ar1d changing Strate~
gies. An emphasis was thus placed on intentionality, a11d it was this that became ce11tral to
discussions of agency (Hodder 1986; Shanks and Tilley 1987). While in my own early texts
on this subject there was n1uch discussio11 of individuals, no atte1npt was rnade to identify
them specifically. Rather, the reason for foregrounding i11dividuals was to make a theoret~
ical point: tl1at we needed to consider how people were actively pursuing specific actions
and intentions. "The individual" was at that point a theoretical prop to the emphasis on
inte11tionality.
Another reason for the early e1nphasis on the individual was to foreground ir1detenni,
nacy. Rather than large,scale systerns and processes in \vhich individuals \Vere caught and
detern1ined, the theoretical focus on the individual underlined the idea that hun1an beiI1gs
were able to 1nonitor the effects of their actions and act in novel, creative ,:vays. So again,
it \Vas not a matter of identifying individual agents but of en1phasiziI1g at a theoretical level
the rnove away fron1 behavioral and detenninistic perspectives.
If early \.vork on agency was couched in tenns of intentionality and indeterminacy, the con,
cept soon ca1ne to be overtaken by a very different view: that agency a1nounted to "the power
to act.'' In rny view, this shift reflects the long,standing inability of the discipl-ine to cope in
theoretical tenns with the individualized and \.vith the small,scale. And indeed, the effect of
this shift \vas that the ernphasis on individuals was lost, a trend noted by Johnson (1989) .
Agency thus ca1ne to be see11 in terms of the resources needed in order to act (Miller and
Tilley 1984; Shanks and Tilley· 1987). These resources \Vere both 1naterial and symbolic
(inforn1ational). The control of prestige goods or esoteric kno~1 ledge \Vas seen as the basis
of pov,er, both po\ver to and power over (ibid.). A n exa1nple of a study in \,\,hich po\ver is
related to resources \.Vithout explicit consideration of individuals is provided by Walker and
Lucero (this volutne). Many such perspectives on agency derived from Foucault and
Giddens (Miller and Tilley 1984 ), and they h ave increasingly been subj ect to criticis1n in ,,.
the social sciences (e.g., Turner 1994), 1nain ly because they do not in the end provide an
 Agency and individuals in long-term processes 23
adequate theory of the subject an d of agency. Despite an apparent emphasis on the duality
of structure and agency, Giddens is criticized for leaving little room for transformative
action.
We can see the li1nits of the structurationist viev., in 1nany of its applications in archae-
ology. Agency appears in these applications to be routinized, and materially and objectively
structured. A good example in archaeology is provided by the "big men aggrandizers" dis-
cussed by Hayden (1990). There is perhaps an androcentric aspect to the focus on power
(Meskell 1996). There is little e1nphasis on intentionality as individualized, small-scale and
transfortnative.
For example, Barrett ( 1994) provides one of the clearest and most successful sustained
applications of structuration theory in archaeology. It is clear, hov.1ever, that he wishes to
get a,v-ay from specific mo1nents of intentionality and from accounts of meaningful and
transformative action (but see also Barrett, this volume). He argues that "we have not
uncovered v.1hat those monuments 1neant" (Barrett 1994: 1). In discussing Neolithic and
Bronze Age monu1nents in Britain, practices sometimes appear to become separated fro1n
mind. "Monumentality originated in neither the idea nor the plan but rather in the prac-
tice and il1 the project" (ibid.: 23). This see1ns to be denying discursive intentionality, idea
and plan too co1npletely:, Perhaps as a result, Barrett's agents seem caugh t in long-term
structures with a 1naterialist bent. For exan1ple, Barrett argues that in the British early
Neolithic the use of 1nontunents and landscapes is generalized. Thus, a wide range of activ-
ities occur at "a11cestral sites." This pattern is linked to long fallo\.v agricultural systems and
generalized rights to community land. In the later Neolithic and early Bronze Age a shorter
fallo"v syste1n in1plies closer links to the land, the closer definition -of inheritance and
tenure, and the clearer marking of burial locations on the landscape. Barrett's emphasis is
on the practical 1nastery of n1aterial and symbolic resources \.Vithin routines and locales. He
foregrounds practices and their 111aterial structuring. There is discussion of how "people"
control and respond to the choreography of place, but no account of individual lived lives.
Agency is seen in tern1s of resources: \vhat is available to allo,v action to take place, rather
than in terms of individual forward-looking intentionality and creativity.

Subjects and selves

Notions of individuality and individual creativity have become highly suspect ,vithin 1nany
of the social sciences. It is clear that many of our contemporary Western notions derive
fron1 historically specific concepts of individuality and intimacy (Giddens 1992). In
particular, Foucault (1977) has demonstrated the way in ,vl1ich discourses emerged in tl1e
late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries associated ,vith the identification, surveillance
and disciplining of persons as individuals. In more recent times, ne\v information tech-
nologies and ne\.v global production, distribution and consumption processes have
e1nphasized the fragmentation and individualization of time, space and product (e.g.,
Castells 1996). The individual is increasingly seen as a particular historical product of
capitalism and, in particular, of late capitalism.
However, the concept of th e individual self has been rescued by anthropological and
historical perspectives v.1hich chart changing concepts of self and the body across time and
space. For example, Moore ( 1994) provides a discussion of how in different ethnographic
concepts different conceptions of the body boundary can be found . In Western societies we
tend to see the outer skin as the boundary of body and self. In other societies, the boundary
~

of self 1nay extend to include objects in the world around. The ,vay is open to explore
 24 Ian Hodder
cultural variation i11 the factors \vhich lead to different constructions of the self and of
subjectivity. In archaeology a relevant study is that by Treherne ( 1995 ). Treherne discusses
changing concepts and practices of the self and the body during the European Bronze Age.
Wl1y do toilet articles such as t,veezers and razors appear at a particular moment in
European prehistory ? Treherne sho\vs that such articles are related to evidence for
increasi11g individualism: warfare, bodily orna1nent, horses and wheeled vehicles, the hunt,
and the ritual consumption of alcohol. While all these activities are related to the rise and
transforrnation of a 1nale warrior status group, Treherne argues that the key is a changing
aesthetics of the body. He describes the "warrior's beauty" and his "beautiful death." Th is
aesthetics is a fran1ework of n1eaning linked to a set of practices which is quite specific
historically and which is part of a distinctive forrn of self-identity. This life-style crystallized
across Europe in the mid-second 111illennium BC out of roots in the previous few millennia.
The institution of the warrior elite was to survive into, and in part give rise to an aspect of,
the later feudal order in Europe.
Elegant as such accounts are, the airn is not to examine agency in terms of the forward-
looking intentionality of individual lives. Rather, the focus is on the social construction of
subjectivities as part of the unfurling of long-tern1 processes. This constructivist view of
bodies, selves and subjects is also seen in recent applications of phenon1enological
approaches in archaeology. For exarnple, Tho1nas (1996), Gosden (1994) and Tilley (1994)
h ave all looked to Heidegger and his idea of "being in the \vorld" (also Barrett, this
volume). These authors use phenornenology to focus on how the subject experiences the
\Vorld though the body. In particular, they explore ho,v subjects experience monurnents and
landscapes as they rnove through thern and carry out practices in the1n.
These phenomenological approaches are important in that they atten1pt to break av.1ay
from approaches ,:vhich foreground structures and systerns binding people into particular
n1odes of behavior over time. They seek to undermine the notion of universal oppositions
between culture and nature, mind and body, meaning and practice, structure and agent.
Rather they place ernphasis on the local and the personal: the lived experiences of indi-
viduals inhabiting rnonuments and landscapes. They also show that the sites and monu-
rnents never had one single meaning. Rather the rneanings were continually changed
through tirne (Bradley 1993 ). The site or rnonument is not a static structure but the product
of a long cycle of reordering and re11egotiating.
For exan1ple, Thornas ( 1996) describes the \Vays in ,:vhich Neolithic Linearbandkeran1ik
houses were centers of experience of the self and of the environment. The daily practices
of cutting down trees, rnoving earth, respecting older houses, living in and using the build~
11
ings created a sense of place. People came to "kno\\T a place as part of "being-in-the~world."
The si1nilarities of forn1 of Linearbandkerarnik houses and megalithic long tornbs over vast
areas are not seen in terms of a cornmon meaning. Indeed, Thomas argues that the houses
or tombs did not have a co1nmon tneaning. All that \vas shared in northwest Europe was a
"material vocabulary" (ibid.: 135).The similarities are presu1nably produced_by the rou-
tinization of practices. But why did people keep doing the sa1ne thing with their house plans
and tomb plans? And why these specific plans?
The answers to these questions are again often given in tenns of the organization of
n1aterial resources and in tenns of tl1e social construction of subjectivities within power
strategies. For exa1nple, Tilley ( 1994) argues that the placing of prehistoric 1nonuments in
the landscape is related to material factors. The need to control and fix meanings in the
landscape is linked to herding and the control of animals, migratory routes and pastures.
Treherne rnakes a related point in relation to Tho1nas' ( 1996) ,:vork:
 Agency and individuals in long,te1m processes 25
Thomas' attention is given to the manipulation of individual bodies, and conco1nitant
notions of subjectivity, through the dominant interpretations of built or acculturated
space fixed by hegetnonic groups ... . What h e is really concerned with is an external
process of subjectification.
(Treherne 1995: 125)

So once again, tl1e lived experiences of individual bodies located in a particular tirne and
place are not explored, despite claims to the contrary. There is too little emphasis on sub,
jectivity and self as constructed by individual agents.

Individual lives
I have argued so far that a notion of agency as involving intentionality and indeter1ninacy
has becorne overshado"ved in recent debates by a perception of agency in terms of the avail,
ability of resources and of the structuring of lives v1ithin long,term and large,scale
processes. Tl1ere is little room in such accounts for the individual construction of events
and processes. An adequate account of agency needs to supple1nent structurationist and
pheno1nenological accounts v.iith di1nensions of experience wh ich can be gained frotn an
exarnination of individual lives.
There is, however, a different tradition in archaeology which points towards a less con,
structivist position. This is work influenced by fern inist and Queer theory. Fe1ninist archae,
ologists have for so1ne time been concerned with the general ideas of "peopling" the past
and of putting faces on the ''faceless blobs" \.vhich see1n, according to 1nost archaeological
accounts, to have inhabited 1nuch of prehistory (e.g., Gero and Conkey 1991; Tringha1n
1991). But it is particularly radical notions of difference and the performativity of sexual
identities (Butler 1990) which have led to detailed atte1npts to·reconstruct the individual,
ity of past lives (e.g., Kn app and Meskell 1997; Meskell 1998) .
Within these more radical notions, emphasis is often placed on the v1ays in wm.ich the
same subject can take on different identities. Indeed, an "individual" is itself a larger whole
constructed from individual events. We cannot assu1ne that the acts of a subject wi ll always
amount to "an individual," that is a distinctive pattern of behavior associated \.vith a single
body. T he potential exists to build up evidence of individual characteristics in archaeology.
For exa1nple, the artist's "hand'' is identified by repeated peculiarities of style or technique.
Individual variation in the knapping of flint has been recognized fro1n the refitting of cores.
Repeated physical 1nove1nent can be ide11tified frotn the examination of skeletons
(Molleson 1994 ). For example, certain bodies are found to have repeatedly sat in certain
positions v.1hile grinding, or to have repeatedly used their teeth to clean fibres and so on.
So rather than starting with "individuals" we need to see ho,:v "individuals" and other
wholes such as sites, cultures and exchange networks are constructed, not solely by large,
scale processes and hegen1onic groups, but through the intentionality within particular and
individual events.
Any construction of individual lived lives involves starting off \vith the traces of indi,
vidual events. The evidence excavated by archaeologists is usually th e result of a
pali1npsest of individual events. Certainly the individual events can sometimes be
extracted fron1 the palitnp~est ( the breaking of a pot identified fron1 refitting ,vi thin a
ge11eral spread of pottery, the digging of a particular post hole ,vithin a pattern of post,
holes, etc.) . It is often possible to work out the intentionality and decision~1naking
involved in individual eve11t sequences, as in work on chafnes operatoires, without relating
 26 Ian Hodder
those sequences to a particular e1nbodied individual. In other cases, as discussed below, ir
1nay be possible to link individual events and individual seque11ces of events together a~
the products of a particular person. It is necessary to atten1pt to build up from the forrner
( events and event sequences) to the latter (en1bodied i11dividuals) so that the construe,
tion of tl1e individual in a particular society can be approached. It is rare that archaeol,
ogists can identify 11a1ned individuals; it is rare that they can piece together anything
approaching a full. account of an i11dividual life. Yet we routinely have evidence of frag,
1nents of lives. The challenge_ is to build up these fragments into the fullest possible
accounts of individual lived lives, by grouping together events and sequences of events
wherever possible.
The focus on the individual event is i1nportant for a nurnber of reasons. First because of
the indetenninacy of levels, that is, that events are 11ot detennined by the structures \vithin
which they are ernbedded. Structure and systern can never be fully instantiated in the
mornents of daily action except provisionally and partially. In the practice of the lived
n1oment it is irnpossible for all the abstractions and constraints of systems and structures to
be present except in the simplest of terms and 1nost provisional of ways. This is because of
the con1plexity and size of the system, unacknowledged conditions and incornplete ki1owl,
edge held by actors, different perspectives and interpretations of appropriate action, and an
inability· to predict all its consequences.
There 1nust, then, always be a disj unction betv.1 een event and structure. One can
never adequately explain one level by another; the systems, structures and events are
simply not equivalent. If there is not a deterrninate relationship between large,scale
and sn1all,scale, 1nacro, and rnicro,scales, then it- cannot be sufficient to focus all
archaeological endeavor on the large,scale. To do so is to treat all variability as
"noise," as indeed it has been treated through recent decades in archaeology. Despite
the Ne,:v and processual archaeological en1phasis on variability, the aim was always to
reduce variability to "trend + noise. " As already noted, the en1phasis on general trends
has continued in rnost postprocessual archaeology. Rather than treating variability in
these terms it can be approached as the situated construction of difference.
Another reason for the need to describe individual actions and lives at the n1icro,
scale, is tha t it is at the hun1an scale that contradictions and conflicts are "vorked out,
lived through and resolved. A full exp lanatory account cannot ren1ain at the level of
the interaction of variables. In fact these variables interact through the lives of indi,
viduals, in the con1pron1ises they made and the solutions they found. The structures
are worked out and reproduced in the bodies of historical lives. -
This is why it is not enough 1nerely to iden tify individual events and persons.
The inadequacy of such an approach is evident in the studies of pre historic ''bog
bodies" in northern Europe (Coles and Coles 1989; Glob 1977). The detail which
can be gained of the last moments in the lives of these individuals is re1narkable.
Their last 1neals can be described, and the processes of their death inferred. Their
hair style and clothing can be clearly seen, and the state of their fingernails gives
an indication of the 1node of life they had li ved. Yet, the very isolation of these
bodi.es in wetland areas means that we understand very li ttle of the social contexts
in ,.vh.ich the indiv iduals lived and died. We still do not understand \vhy the deaths
occurred, whether they had a ritu al or penal or other character. We can say little
about ho"v these individuals fitted into or reacted against the structures that
surrounded then1.
 Agency and individuals in long,term processes 27

Individual lives: the example of "the Ice Man"

ln sotne such cases there is more potential for placing well,preserved bodies and the specific
inscances of the deaths into a wider and transfor1ning social structure. For exatnple, I have
suggested that the evidence regarding the "Ice Man" found in the Austrian Alps (Spindler
1993), both. allo\VS a window into an individual life, and provides an opportunity to explore
how that life dealt v.1ith and contributed to the contradictions generated by large,scale
processes ( Hodder 1999).
The body \Vas dated to 3300 - 3200 BC, and the 1nan, ,:vho v.1as ben.vee11 thirty,five a11d
forty years old, was associated ,:vith a wide range of equipn1ent and clothes. These artifacts
and the body itself allo,v Spindler to argue that the Ice Man had, in his life, been both con,
nected to and disconnected from \vider lo\-vland society. The n1an v.1as clearly integrated
into exchange nen.vorks and l1ad recently been travelling through lowland agricultural
areas. lowland co1nn1unities 1nay have depended on him as a metal trader, hunter or shep,
herd. On the other hand, the 1nan was obviously highly self,sufficient. He carried an
extraordinary amount of equipn1ent with him which allowed hirn to travel and survive in
upland and cold conditions. There is evidence of independence and self,sufficiency, and a
concern \Vith the care and healing of his own body.
The clothes and the food of the Ice Man thus suggest an independence and an experience
of surviving in a harsh and dangerous ehvironment. Yet he had close contact ,:vith other groups
and his existence depended on lowland co1n1ntmities. Lo,:vland groups in turn depended on
hitn and his like for tl1e exploitation of upland environments. We see an individual threading
a life together, one involving contradictions between dependency and self,sufficiency. We
sense the duality in his co1nmit1nent to and need for long,tenn social relationships with
lo\vland groups, and his need to break away fron1 such dependencies to live on his own.
l ooked at on another scale, \Ve can see the Ice Man and the contradictions which ran
through his life as part of larger,scale processes. l arge parts of Europe at this time ,vere under,
going a shift fro1n societies based on a corporate sense of lineage towards societies in ,vhich
individuals and small groups competed for access to exchange goods (Th.01nas 1987). An
i1nportant part of th.is change ,vas the spread of the use of secondary ani1nal products and the
greater exploitation of upland areas (Sherratt 1981). In terms of sy1nbolic change, I have
argued there ,vas a shift from the corporate group symbolized by the domestic hearth to indi,
vidualized groups associated ,vith hunting, warring and exchange ( the agrios; see Hodder 1990).
T hese large,scale transforn1ations in economy, society and ideology could only be
achieved through the actions of individuals as they \¥Orked through tl1e dichotomies
between older syste1ns and the practical world in which they lived their daily lives. In the
Ice Man's life we see him struggling, even to his death, with contradictions \vhich trans,
lated in his context into an opposition between upland and lo,vland. The lov,,land groups
to "vl-1ich he had access 1nay still have practiced collective burial and thus ,¥ere part of the
older syste1n in Europe (Barfield 1994). His o,vn life,style beca1ne necessary as people
increasingly ,vent into the 1nountains to obtain stone and ores, to herd sheep or to hunt.
T hese ne\v develop1nenrs ushered in a life o( independence, harshness and individual
opportunity. The Ice Man found individual solutions. He found a ,:vay of carrying e1nbers in
a birch bark container. He had his own "1nedicine kit" in the fo~ of t,vo pieces of birch
fungus attached to his left \Vrist. He got so1neone to n1ake tattoos on hitn to protect hitn or
to heal a strain or wound. We see in all this the intentional creation of a ne,v \vorld, break,
ing a\vay from but dependent on the corporate. We see the small,scale drarna \Vithin the
large,scale n1ovement of millennia.
 28 Ian I-Iodder
An example from <;atalhoyiik
Another example I \vish to provide deals not \Vith long,tenn change but with long,term sta,
bility. One of the most re1narkable characteristics of the early Neolithic n1ound sites in cen,
tral Anatolia such as Asikli Hoyi.ik and <;atalhoyi.ik is that the buildings, streets and
internal settle1nent organisation stay very stable over n1illennia. Ho"v \Vere the structures
behind tl1ese continuities reproduced ? Ho\v did individual action 1nake sense of the struc,
cures and regenerate them? I want to atte1npt to ans\ver these questions by considering a
case fro1n the recent excavations at <;atalhoyi.ik (I--Iodder 1996).
In Building l on the North part of the East 1nound (Figure 2.1), over sixty burials
were found beneath the floor. The floor and wall plaster resurfacings suggest that the
building \Vas used fo r about forty years. It is therefore assumed that those buried in the
building l1ad lived in tl1is and adjacent or other buildings. Exarnination of the skeletal
evidence suggests son1e fan1ily resembla11ces amongst the bones (Theya lvfolleson and
Peter Andre~1s; see http: //catal.arch.can1.ac.uk/catal/catal.ht1nl). The last burial in the
building was distinctive in a number of respects. This was of an older 1nale but with the
head n1issing (Figure 2.2). The specific re1noval of the head was 11ot observed in the
other burials, but head re1noval is knov.rn fro1n depictions in the <:;atalhoyi.ik art.
"Vultures" are sho\vn picking the flesh frorn headless corpses. Since excarnation does
not seen1 to be indicated by the hun1an bones from the site so far exa1nined in the ne"v
excavations, it see1ns likel y that the practices associated \Vith death in the art refer to
1nythology. Alternatively or additionally, head ren1oval was restricted to individuals of
special and/or ri tual status.
The special character of the head less burial was confinned_hy his association with an

BUILDING 1
PHASE 2 - OCClJPATION I

PLATFORM 13 t
PLATFORM 37

BURIAL
21 2
SPACE7I
SPACE 70

PLATFORM32 D
OBSJDIAN 1460

0 2m

Figure 2 . 1 Plan of Bu ilding l at <;atalhoyuk

 Agency and individuals in long,term processes 29
unusual object>a srnall bo11e \.vorn as a pe11dant. This 6 0 11e proved to be the deformed penis
bone of a sn1all \.veasel,like creature (Figure 2.3 ).
The special status of this individual was tl1us implied by the ren1oval of his head, by the
penis bone, and by the fact that his burial ,vas the last to occur in the building before aban,
donment. Ir\ addition he was buried under ,vhat seems to have been the main platfor1n, cen,
trally placed, ,vithin Building l.

'"' . ,
'

Figure 2.2 Headless male bu rial frorn beneath the eastern platform in Bui lding 1

0 em

Figure 2 .3 Probable defonned penis bone of 1nustelid with traces of wear fro1n the burial shown in
Figure 2.2
Note: Preliminary identification by Nerissa Russell
 30 lan Hodder

Wl1at else can \.ve say about this individual and the v,1ay that he lived his life ?
Exan1ination of the human bones fro1n beneath Building 1 has suggested the possibility that
the forty,year life,cycle of this h ouse follo\vs the life,cycle of the extended family buried
beneath its floors. The early burials include high proportions of young individuals; indeed,
as the buildi11g grows older, so only old individuals are buried within it. This suggests that
the building was first founded by a young family head. His and/or her children then either
died or 1noved away, until only older individuals \Vere left and finally the building was aban,
cloned. When the building was abandoned it ,vas purified by burning and intentionally
filled in. Soon afterwards, ho,.vever, son1eone dug down into Building l to re1nove a bull
sculpture fro1n the 1nain internal wall.
It is reasonable to argue from the special treatment of the last burial, the headless 1nan,
that it was his death which finally led to the abandontnent of the building. He rnay \vell
have been the individual \.vho founded the building and became the farnily head. If so, we
can say something about this particular 1nan's death and life. His death led to the ren1oval
of the great ancestral sculpture fron1 inside the house. In his life, he would have witnessed
the deaths of n1ai1y of his siblings, cousins and children. The infant and child mortality rate
for those buried in the house is very high. It is not too difficult to argue that the penis bone
worn by this elder had something to do with fertility. Perhaps this 1nan came to use such
sy1nbols and other special powers to protect the family and help it to deal 'Nith the death of
so 1nany of its children.
Indeed, we h a~e increasingly co1ne to argue at <;atalhoyuk that 1nuch of the "art" may
have been involved in protection, rnediation \.Vith an.cestors and reproduction. The per,
sonal and individual solution found by the elder in Building l was perhaps part of a pattern
~,hich assured the continuity of an art devoted to dealing with loss and instability. In terms
of the interaction of variables over the long ter1n, we can see that the syn1bolis1n and "art"
created li11ks to the ancestors, that it mediated with the spirit world. And ~1e can see that
behavior of this type was necessary in the context of early agriculture and large settled coin,
1nunities. It is through the individual life that these interactions take place. We can get a
surprisingly full picture of the elder of Building 1. We can look at the hearth he 1nust have
know·n so well, crawl through the sa1ne entry vvays he rnust have used. But we can also see
ho,v he dealt \Vith tragedy and loss, and how his particular solution carried his fatnily
through forty years and 1nany deaths. The use of symbolic representation to deal with ances,
tors and spirits \Vas part of a long,tenn structure, but vve glin1pse its working in -i11dividual
circun1stances.

Narrative windows
It is clear in the exarnples given above that the details even of prehistoric individual lives
can to so1ne extent be put together. But accounts of suc h lives seem to den1and a rhetoric
rather different from that associated ,vith log,normal curves and input-output diagra1ns. An
intriguing link has begun to emerge in recent literature ben,veen the discussion of individual
li ves and the writing of narratives. In terms of the history of archaeology a fine example is
provided by Joyce ( 1994 ). In historical archaeology, Spector ( 1993) has created an evoca,
tive narrative of the lives of individuals at the moment of early contact between colonial
and Native A1nerican groups.
In my vie\v, the S\vitch to a different narrative n1ode 1nay often be an integral con1po,
_nent of a com1nitment to the sn1all scale. Because of the indetenninate relations between
the long tenn and the individual act, it is inadequate to describe and reconstruct ind ividual
 Agency and individuals in long,term JJrocesses 31
lives and events in terms of macro,processes using the rhetoric of the distanced observer. It
is not en.ough to describe th_e interaction of variables. Rather, tl1e aim is to capture the '.Vay
these variables are understood and dealt with (including the contradictions) in the prac,
rices and concepts of individua l experiences. H o"v do people struggle '.vith the forces ,,v hich
appear to enclose them? A narrative account is needed because the macro,processes do not
fully account for \.\1hat is being observed at the small scale. There is a difference between
causal and interpretive statements. Causal explanation deals \Vith the interrelationsl1ip of
variables at a dista11ce, in the abstract, ren1oved fron1 th e spec ificity of events.
Interpretation in the form of thick description (Geertz 1973; see also Sinclair, this volume)
atte1npts to include accounts of the contingent and historical specificity of events.
This e1nphasis on narrative is also iLnportant because of tl1e public interest in the human
scale of the past. The popularity of Spir1dler's book 011 the A lpine Ice Man is remarkable.
It de1nonstrates the publ ic fascina tion with the detailed and tl1e individualized. It de1non,
strates the public need to sense a human scale in tlle vast expanses of archaeological time.
The narrative windows wl1ich we construct around individual events and lives create a
point of entry into tl1e long tern1 for the non, specialist.

Conclusion
..
For 1nuch of its data, archaeology can only give a general syste1nic vie\v; it can describe the
flow of cultures or systen1s, the rise of cotnplexity, the collapse of states and interregional
n etworks of exchange. The data are often too scanty to allow anything else, and the ability
of archaeologists to paint grand syntheses vvith a broad brush is i1npressive (for a recent
argu1nent in fa vor of "grand narrative," see Sherratt 1995). But there are 1no1nents in
archaeology which capture the public in1agination ,vhen very rich and detailed infor1nation
is found: an Ice t-.1an , a Pornpeii, a Shang tomb or a Tutankhan1un. We should not scoff at
this: the popularization derives frotn a fascination "ve all share. It invites narrative. It pro,
vides a \.\1indo"v into the workings of the grand syste1ns vvhich we so painstakingly 1nonitor
for so 1nuch of our archaeological lives.
It is not only the sensational finds \ivhich allow \Vindo'.vs into the fine grain of te1nporal
sequences, ho"vever. Indeed, it could be argued that archaeologists are better equipped at
studying specific moments and daily rhythms than larger scale processes. Archaeologists
can reconstruct in great detail the sequences of actions behind tl1e knapping ot a flint 110d,
ule. K11owledge of the sequences involved in making and firing a pot 1nay be understood
do,.vn to a few n1inutes. Seasonal activities may be constructed frorn tooth growth or shell
middens. Medieval archaeologists 1nay be able to reconstn1ct the daily routes from house to
field, and tl1e \veekly passages fro1n l1ouse to church and back again. In many '.vays, it is the
human scale vvhich is the stuff of arcl1aeology; it is the larger scale wl1ich is 1nore distanced
from archaeological n1aterial.
I ,vould argue, h owever, that few approaches in archaeology adequately recognize that
different types of account are needed at differen t scales. Archaeologists have developed
effective techniques for dealing with -rhe large scale and the long tenn. When it corr1es to
individuals and events, there have been fe \.\1 successful studies. Rather than abstract math-
en1atical 1nodelling of diversity and contingency, attention Lnust be paid to lived experi,
ence. Rather than focusing on agency in tern1s of the resources (sy1nbolic and material)
needed to act and on the hegemonic control of action, attention can be directed to the
intentionality and u11certainty of da ily life. Rather than accounts of "being" ,.vhich rema in
1naterialist, dichotornous and diseLnbodied, narrative interpretations are needed of tl1e
32 Ian Hodder
specificity of meaningful action ( Gero I 991; Kus 1992). Grand syntheses of the long term
rnay not be commensurable ,vith sn1all narratives of lived mon1ents (Marquardt 1992), but
both are needed in an archaeology wl1ich accepts roles for intentionality, uncertainty and
individual creativity in hu1nan behavior.

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