socialising geoarchaeology

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Geoarchaeology: An International Journal, Vol. 25, No. 6, 675708 (2010) 2010 Wiley Periodicals, Inc.Published online in Wiley Online Library (wileyonlinelibrary.com). DOI:10.1002/gea.20329

*Corresponding author; E-mail: [email protected].

Socializing Geoarchaeology:

Insights from Bourdieus Theoryof Practice Applied to Neolithic

and Bronze Age Crete

Simon Jusseret*

Aspirant du F.R.S.FNRS, Universit catholique de Louvain, AegeanInterdisciplinary Studies research group (AegISCEMAINCAL), CollgeErasme, Place Blaise Pascal 1, 1348 Louvain-la-Neuve, Belgium

Because the history of human life is about ways of inhabiting the world, geoarchaeology shouldplay a central role in the archaeological program and cannot be reduced to a mere subspecialtyof archaeology with its own autonomous theories and concerns. Hence there is a pressing needfor theorizing; geoarchaeology cannot ignore nearly five decades of theoretical debates inarchaeology. This contribution endeavors to demonstrate the benefits that may be achievedby practically applying social theories to the interpretation of geoarchaeological results. PierreBourdieus theory of practice inspired a generation of post-processual archaeologists, yet theavenues of interpretation that this opened up have barely been explored in approaches in theEarth sciences to the human past. It is suggested that the work of Bourdieu offers the possibilityto sidestep recurrent issues of scale and incompatibilities of resolution between archaeologi-cal and geological dating. The argument is sustained by an alternative reading of geoarchaeo-logical results coming from Neolithic and Bronze Age Crete. 2010 Wiley Periodicals, Inc.

INTRODUCTION

The century preceding the 1960s has famously been described by Colin Renfrewas the long sleep of archaeological theory (Johnson, 2006: 118119). Traditionallydefined as a subdiscipline of archaeology (although this position will here be chal-lenged), geoarchaeology does not seem to have followed the same trajectory. Onecould even say that the combination of the words geoarchaeology and theorywould have appeared rather odd until recent years (although see discussions in Bell,2004; Hassan, 2004; Wilkinson, 2004; Brown, 2008). Part of the explanation mayreside in the fact that, traditionally, geoarchaeologists are recognized as Earth sci-entists. In some cases, this apparently makes geoarchaeologists able to occupy a priv-ileged position, away from the philosophical tussles of archaeologists (Jing, 2007: 11).In recent years geoarchaeologists and environmental archaeologists have beenurged to bring social science theory into their discipline (e.g., Bradley, 1993;


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Wilkinson & Stevens, 2003: 263; Bell, 2004; Boivin, 2004; Walsh, 2004). As the reviewsof Bell (2004), Hassan (2004), and Wilkinson (2004) make clear, one should, however,be wary not to overlook earlier, significant efforts to link humans and their environ-

ment in socially informed models. One could mention the concept of site catchmentanalysis (Vita-Finzi & Higgs, 1970). This, according to Hassan (2004: 312), representsone of the first attempts to develop a theory of landscape archaeology on the basisof the spatial range of subsistence activities by a specific group of people, a pre-cursor to more recent attempts to consider landscapes as a function of the percep-tions and practices of human groups. Butzers (1982) use of Clarkes (1968) modelof sociocultural systems also represents an important input in this perspective.Coming from scholars/scientists sensitive to post-processual issues in archaeol-ogy, one should perhaps understand the aforementioned call as a legitimate ques-tioning of scientific practices and the mapping of subjects that are normalized(Hassan, 2004: 325). The latter issue, in particular, represents an important challenge

addressed at so-called processual approaches like site catchment analysis or sys-temic thinking (see reaction in Fleming, 2006).

In this contribution it will be argued that geoarchaeology should not represent asubspecialty of archaeology but should play a central role in the archaeological pro-gram, because the history of human life is about ways of inhabiting the world(Barrett, 1999: 2930). Geoarchaeology would hence be understood as a particularapproach, exploiting methods and theories from earth sciences and archaeology inorder to understand the human past. In this perspective, developing a geoarchaeo-logical theory could perhaps and first of all benefit from the lessons of nearly fivedecades of theoretical debates in archaeology. For example, while it is now widely

admitted by archaeologists that method and theory are closely related issues(Johnson, 1999: 2), theory is rarely made explicit in geoarchaeological accounts.Method is more often than not reduced to a procedure aiming at collecting objectivedata. This situation explains why there is still much more interest in developing theMaterials and Methods sections of geoarchaeological studies than effectively con-sidering the way geoarchaeological data could be brought into historical recon-structions. The focus on data collection leads to geoarchaeological analyses crammedwith tables, diagrams, and results of analytical procedures and conclusions of tan-gential relevance to the understanding of the human past. One could argue that thisissue is merely a question of nuance. There is indeed no unique and commonly agreeddefinition of geoarchaeology. Therefore, the existence of multiple perspectives is

unavoidable (see discussions in Goldberg & Macphail, 2006; Rapp & Hill, 2006; Butzer,2008). But approaches that fail to integrate social dimensions with the geologicalworld undoubtedly run the risk of constructing internalist histories, where changeis described (and not explained) within rigidly disciplinary categories (Hugues, 1986;see also Owoc, 2004).

These points will here be illustrated by proposing an alternative reading of geoar-chaeological results coming from Neolithic and Bronze Age Crete. This reading arisesout of a consideration of Pierre Bourdieus theory of practice (2000). More or lessdirectly, it has inspired a generation of processual and post-processual archaeolo-gists working on social dynamics (Barrett, 1994; Dobres & Robb, 2000a; Relaki, 2003;

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Tomkins, 2004; Beck et al., 2007), landscape analysis (Ashmore & Knapp, 1999;Barrett, 1999), and material culture studies (Jones, 2007; Boivin, 2008). Archaeologistshave long exploited the embodied condition of humanity as a useful way of explor-

ing past ways of being in the world. This explains their interest in body-centred the-ories such as that proposed by Pierre Bourdieu (e.g., Gosden, 1994; Hodder & Hutson,2003: 106124; Boivin, 2008; see also Thomas, 1996; Barrett & Ko, 2009, for illustra-tions of this Heideggerian stance in prehistoric archaeology). Generally speaking,environmental archaeologists and geoarchaeologists remained somewhat on themargins of this debate (although see Evans, 2003; Denham, 2008; Denham & Haberle,2008). French sociological theory, it must be said, enjoys a favorable position inarchaeological theory. For this reason, its use has sometimes been criticized as afashion more than a necessity (Dobres & Robb, 2000b: 10; Walsh, 2008). This paperwill not be concerned with demonstrating that Bourdieus theory of practice repre-sents the only valid means of interpreting the archaeological record from a geoar-

chaeological perspective. Bourdieus sociology indeed has limitations one shouldnot overlook. The dualism of structure:agency, resolved by Bourdieu through thedeployment of the notion ofhabitus (see below), still embodies a form of deter-minism (Lallement, 1993: 128130, 200201; see also Jenkins, 2002, for a comprehen-sive overview of the difficulties related to Bourdieus work). The theory of practiceindeed does not satisfactorily account for the fact that human agents are only partof the mechanisms through which social structures persist. Adaptivity (the capac-ity of structures to renew and transform themselves) and openness (the ability ofstructures to trap new resourceshuman or naturalin order to avoid fragmenta-tion) are two other mechanisms of structural persistency highlighted by Bintliff

(2004: 190). Nevertheless, bearing in mind the previous remark, the theory of prac-tice is believed to be a useful, but certainly not unique, way of tackling methodolog-ical issues in geoarchaeology. This contribution therefore seeks to demonstrate thebenefits one could get by practically applying social theories to the interpretation ofgeoarchaeological results. The problem of bridging scales (Stein, 1993; Owoc, 2004)and the frequently incompatible resolution between archaeological and geologicaldating (Krahtopoulou, 2000; Halstead, 2008: 239) will be discussed in this context.

LONGSTANDING PARADIGMS

The dawn of the 20th century initiated more than a hundred years of intensive

excavations on the island of Crete. Following the excavations at Knossos by SirArthur Evans, archaeological research mainly focused on the Bronze Age period,attracted by the eye-catching discoveries of the so-called Minoan civilisation.Nevertheless, besides the early discoveries at the tell of Knossos by Evans andMackenzie, significant excavations carried out in the beginning of the 20th centuryparticipated in shedding further light on the Neolithic of Crete. The excavations ofthe Skales cave by Bosanquet and of the but-and-ben structure at Magasa (easternCrete) were in this sense remarkable. In the 1930s, the Pendleburys and Money-Coutts excavated several caves that yielded Neolithic material, including the Trapezaburial cave on the Lasithi plateau. Neolithic material was also discovered under the


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Bronze Age palaces of Phaistos and Malia (Tomkins, 2000: 79). Although a com-prehensive summary of Neolithic research on Crete lies beyond the scope of thisarticle (see Tomkins, 2000, and contributions in Isaakidou & Tomkins, 2008a, for

further references), two postwar achievements deserve special mention. The mul-tiplication of intensive surveys, particularly in mountainous regions, contributedsignificantly to the comprehension of the Final Neolithic/Early Bronze Age popula-tion dynamics beyond the coastal plains (e.g., Hood, Warren, & Cadogan, 1964;Blackman & Branigan, 1975, 1977; Watrous, 1982; Watrous et al., 1993; Branigan,1998). At Knossos, new excavations were carried out by Hood and subsequently byJohn Evans (1964, 1968). One of the most important results of this renewed phaseof excavation was the discovery of an unsuspected initial aceramic layer at the base ofthe Knossos mound (Isaakidou & Tomkins, 2008b: 1). In recent years, reanalysis andpublication of excavated material from Knossos, Phaistos, and other sites in Cretetook place. Surface surveys still occupy a prominent position in archaeological

research on Crete (e.g., Greco et al., 2002; Moody et al., 2003; Hayden et al., 2004;Betancourt, Davaras, & Hope Simpson, 2004, 2005; Haggis et al., 2005). A recent andcomprehensive analysis of the archaeological surveys carried out on Crete hasrecently been proposed by Gkiasta (2008). The body of work previously sketchedhas actively participated in breaking down the once crisp boundary separating theCretan Neolithic and Bronze Age. The division is more of historiographic than his-toric importance (Tomkins, 2010). However, where humanenvironment interac-tions are concerned, such maturity is still far from being realized. Neolithichumanenvironment interactions are still largely understood in functionalist terms,such as subsistence (Halstead, 2008) and security concerns (Nowicki, 2008) (although

see Tomkins, 2009, in press). A similar observation has been made with regard to thetransition from Bronze Age to Iron Age (Wallace, 2007: 249). Contrasting with thispicture, and largely thanks to a rich iconography, Minoan humanenvironment inter-actions tend to be comprehended in more symbolic terms (Herva, 2006a, 2006b).

BREAKING DOWN BOUNDARIES: SEDIMENTS AS MATERIAL

CONDITIONS OF EXISTENCE

Sediment cores taken in the coastal and archaeologically rich areas of Malia andKalo Chorio have recovered sedimentary sequences respectively spanning the lasteight (Dalongeville et al., 2001) and fifteen (Zacharias et al., 2009) millennia. This

high-resolution record therefore offers the possibility of revising Neolithic and Minoanenvironmental interpretations on a common and local basis (Figures 1, 2, 3). AtMalia, this has been done on the basis of six published cores (Dalongeville et al.,2001; Lespez et al., 2001, 2004). Dominey-Howes carried out earlier, unpublishedinvestigations (Dominey-Howes, 1997). Only one core, Carottage 6, has been radio-carbon dated and submitted to further laboratory analyses. At Kalo Chorio, sedi-mentary sequences from two cores and six excavated trenches have been described(Pavlopoulos et al., 2007). The depositional units identified by the authors of thesestudies are presented in the next section. Although the scientific approach pursuedin this work is clearly essential to geoarchaeological research (also Boivin, 2004: 165),

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conclusions being reached (Dalongeville et al., 2001: 80). By the same token, a char-coal concentration dated to 25802290 cal. yr B.C. (Ly7118; Lespez et al. 2004: 443,Table I) (EM IIA-B; Manning, 1995; see Table I for further references to the Cretanchronological system and corresponding abbreviations) left the authors with a ques-tion mark, as this date does not correspond to any well-known catastrophic event(Dalongeville et al., 2001: 83; Figure 3).

At Kalo Chorio, humanenvironment interactions are barely mentioned by theauthors (Pavlopoulos et al., 2007). The main objective of the study was to recon-struct the last 6000 years of environmental history.

In both cases the researchers suggest that a better understanding of humanenvironment interactions could only be reached through more comprehensive doc-umentation of the corresponding study areas. Although more data would indeed beadvantageous, this amounts to a premature postponement of interpretation. Indeed,the analytical resolution reached by the two studies is already sufficient, providedan appropriate theoretical framework is adopted. Once and for all, it has to beacknowledged that a scientific protocol alone has never been able to produce a his-torical object. Historical entities can only arise out of a continuous debate betweendisciplines, including those traditionally referred to as nonscientific (Burnouf &Chouquer, 2008; Chouquer, 2008).

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Figure 3. Stratigraphy ofCarottage 6 at Malia and C2 at Kalo Chorio (modified after Dalongeville et al.,2001, and Pavlopoulos et al., 2007).


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A step toward a better integration of these sediments (here understood as an inte-gral part of the archaeological record) into historical reconstructions has been offeredby Barrett (1994) and Evans (2003), the latter partly inspired by the first. Both rely-ing on the sociology of Bourdieu, they understand the archaeological record as boththe outcome and the material conditions of past social practices. Therefore, it isseen not so much as the record ofsomething, but as the material conditions struc-

turing past existences and the reproduction of the conditions that brought them intobeing. Taking the second part of this proposition at face value would perhaps begoing a step too far if one wishes to avoid a slippery path toward an anthropocen-tric understanding of the material world. There is a world existing alongside humanbeings. Humans and their environment are indeed recognized as co-evolutionary(McGlade, 1995). As noted above, Bourdieus sociology is not concerned with the waysstructures remain outside of their reproduction by social agents. If an understandingof the environment as part of the structural conditions enabling and constraininghuman life is desired, there is therefore a need to reformulate Barretts (1994) andEvans (2003) conception of the material record. If one wants to rescue the envi-ronment from leaping into a pure social construct, then the proposition of Barrett

(1994) and Evans (2003) should be comprehended as an invitation to explore when,how, and why social practices participate in the reproduction of environmental struc-tures. For sure, the environment and its material record have the capacity to remainwell beyond the human life span. The mechanisms of this persistence, however,need to be examined and not taken for granted. Binford and Schiffer taught us to seetransformation as a necessary condition for things to remain (Olivier, 2004: 3940).Earth scientists and other environmental specialists represent prime actors in theidentification of transformations by natural agencies (Schiffers n-transforms).Bourdieus sociology, adapted through the works of Barrett (1994) and Evans (2003),reminds us that human beings have this capacity to reproduce through their actions

Table I. Chronological table for Neolithic and Bronze Age Crete.

Phase Absolute Date Range

Initial Neolithic (IN) ca. 70006500/6400 B.C.

Early Neolithic (EN) ca. 6500/64006000/5900 B.C.Middle Neolithic (MN) ca. 6000/59005500/5300 B.C.Late Neolithic I (LN I) ca. 5500/53004900 B.C.Late Neolithic II (LN II) ca. 49004500 B.C.Final Neolithic IA (FN IA) ca. 45004200 B.C.Final Neolithic IA (FN IB) ca. 4200ca. 3900 B.C.Final Neolithic II (FN II) ca. 3900ca. 3600 B.C.Final Neolithic IIII (FN III) ca. 3600ca. 3300 B.C.Final Neolithic IV (FN IV) ca. 3300ca. 3100/3000 B.C.Early Minoan (EM) IIII ca. 3100/30002000 B.C.Middle Minoan (MM) IIII ca. 20001600 B.C.

Late Minoan (LM) IIII ca. 16001100 B.C.Modified after Tomkins, (in press).


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(not necessarily conscious) the structures enabling and constraining their lives. Totake one example cited by Olivier (2004: 123124), it is because people decideto repeat the burial of their dead close to one another that a graveyard can persist

and act as a structural condition of human life. It is thanks to the transformationintroduced by each new burial that a graveyard continues its life as a structure forhuman practices. Using the term introduced by Bintliff (2004, see above), a grave-yard as a structure persists thanks to its capacity to adapt itself through multipletransformations. Environmental scientists would certainly agree that it is alsothe adaptability of environmental systems that makes them durable. Literature isreplete with discussions pertaining to the mechanisms through which rivers have thecapacity to adapt to changes (see, for example, Blum & Trnqvist, 2000). However,if Bourdieu is right, the structural conditions imposed by the environment can alsobe maintained by human practices, deliberately or not. A key issue for socio-environmental research would therefore be to evaluate the nature of these practices

and the circumstances in which they arise. Marriner and Morhange (2006) providea recent example of how people can, through the deliberate removal of sediments,reproduce the constraints imposed by the enclosure and silting up of a coastal waterbody. It is through repeated dredging practices that a harbor can be functionallymaintained and at the same time continue framing human lives (accommodationspace being artificially created and allowing further silting up). A major point ofinterest in Barretts (1994) and Evans (2003) writings resides in their call for under-standing the material record differently. Olivier (2004, 2008) summarizes the pointwell when he suggests that archaeology should focus not only on phenomena at themoment of their creation in the past, but also on their duration. This is done by

observing how they transmit through time by transforming themselves. Knowinghow and why an archaeological phenomenon occurred at a certain moment in timeis certainly important. But this focus on contingency should certainly go hand inhand with an examination of how contingent details insert themselves in broaderstructures and participate (or not) in their transmission through time (Gould, 1999).For example, a lot of ink has been spilled over the causes of prehistoric alluviationepisodes in the Mediterranean (Vita-Finzi, 1969; Pope & van Andel, 1984; van Andel,Zangger, & Demitrack, 1990; Bintliff, 1992, 2000b; Lewin, Macklin, & Woodward, 1995;Macklin & Woodward, 2009). Will further sedimentological evidence or new tech-nologies make us able to throw more light on this issue? Or should we allow theresistance of the material record to lead us to develop different forms of enquiry?

In the next sections, the perspective debated above will be extended to geoar-chaeological research by exploring the ways in which sediments and related depo-sitional environments come to structure past social practices. The case studies ofMalia and Kalo Chorio will help illustrate the ways in which social practices can (ornot) participate in the maintenance of environmental phenomena as structural con-ditions of human life.

First, the Holocene sedimentary sequence at Kalo Chorio and Malia (as describedby Dalongeville et al., 2001; Lespez et al., 2001, 2004; Pavlopoulos et al., 2007) is suc-cinctly presented. Second, a comparison of the sediments deposited at Kalo Chorio andat Malia during the Neolithic and Bronze Age will be carried out. This comparison

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leads to an alternative interpretation of the material record based on Bourdieus the-ory of practice (2000) and the application of the concept of site catchment analysis(Vita-Finzi & Higgs, 1970).

HOLOCENE SEDIMENTARY SEQUENCE AT KALO

CHORIO AND MALIA

Kalo Chorio

The sequence has been subdivided by Pavlopoulous et al. (2007) into six deposi-tional units. Approximate top and bottom elevations of the units are given in metersmsl and read from Pavlopoulos et al. (2007: 224, Figure 4). Six radiocarbon datesprovide the chronological framework of the study. They were calibrated using theINTCAL98 data set (Stuiver et al., 1998). Where chronological interpolation is made

by Pavlopoulos et al. (2007), dates are referred to as estimated and presented as his-torical dates. Radiocarbon analyses were recently completed by 18 OSL dates(Zacharias et al., 2009).

Unit A (2/1.5 m msl) represents the youngest unit and is described as topsoilwith remains of human activity. It is described as dry brown/olive brown clay andsand or silty sand with small pebbles (Pavlopoulos et al., 2007: 223). Unit B(0.5/3m msl; between 390190 cal. yr B.C. [ISTRO T6C1] and 33503020 cal. yr B.C.[ISTRO T6C3A]) is a gray-dark gray sand or silty sand/clay with some pebbles(Pavlopoulos et al., 2007: 223). It is interpreted as overbank deposits of the river withinfluence of brackish and sea storm water (Pavlopoulous et al., 2007: 223224). UnitC (2/4m msl; 30503550 B.C. [estimated]) corresponds to conglomerate streambeddeposits and is related to the possible flow of the river (Pavlopoulos et al., 2007: 224).Unit D (3.5/8.5 m msl; between 3550 B.C. [estimated] and 43604240 cal. yr B.C.[ISTRO T2C2A]) is a gray-dark gray silt/silty sand and its depositional environmentis interpreted as a possible swamp with stagnant fresh water (Pavlopoulos et al.,2007: 224). Unit EFG (5.5/min. 10.5 m msl; earlier than 43604240 cal. yr B.C.[ISTRO T2C2A]) is interpreted as fluvio-torrential streambed and overbankingdeposits (Pavlopoulos et al., 2007: 224).

Malia

The Holocene sedimentary sequence at Malia is subdivided into five depositionalunits (Dalongeville et al., 2001; Lespez et al., 2001, 2004). They have been describedsolely on the basis ofCarottage 6. Since variations in the lithological descriptions ofthe units occur within and between publications, the present account relies on themost recent synthesis and interpretation of Lespez et al. (2004: 448, Figure 6) forthe sake of consistency. Twelve radiocarbon dates are available for this core, ofwhich 11 are detailed in Lespez et al. (2004). They were calibrated according to theINTCAL98 data set (Stuiver & Braziunas, 1993; Stuiver et al., 1998; Lespez, personalcommunication, 2009). Dalongeville et al. (2001) mention one more date, for whichno information is provided (dated material, laboratory, calibration method) and


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which has therefore not been used in the present article. Chronological variationsalso occur between publications. It is not always clear if calibrated ages are B.C. orA.D. (compare Dalongeville et al., 2001: 78; Lespez et al. 2004: 443, Table I). The sum-

mary presented below relies on detailed data from Lespez et al. (2004: 443, Table I).Probable transcription mistakes are here indicated by a question mark and correctedby reference to results from Dalongeville et al. (2001: 78). Where chronological inter-polation is made by Lespez et al. (2004), dates are here referred to as estimated andpresented as historical dates. Dalongeville et al. (2001: 77) consider that the eleva-tion of the marsh corresponds to the average level of standard high tide, equated to0m msl. The 1:5000 topographical map of the Hellenic Military Geographical Service,however, indicates that this is an approximation. For this reason, the elevations ofthe units given below were calculated using the depths provided by the authors(Lespez et al., 2004) and considering an elevation ofCarottage 6 close to 1m msl,according to the local topographical map.

Unit 5 (1/1.2 m msl; after 40 cal. yr B.C.320 cal. yr A.D. [Ly-7113]) is theyoungest unit and is interpreted as a middle sand deposited on the inner part of[a] beach ridge (Lespez et al., 2004: 448, Figure 6). Unit 4 (1.2/2.2m msl; between190 cal. yr B.C. [?, Dalongeville et al., 2001: 78]410 cal. yr A.D. [Ly-7115] and 40 calyr BC320 cal. yr A.D. [Ly-7113] ) is an organic sandy clay with plant remains. It ismade of terrestrial sediments where marine influences increase in the upper partof the unit (Lespez et al., 2004: 448, Figure 6). Unit 3 (2.2/2.6m msl; between17401510 cal. yr B.C. [Ly-7116] and 190 cal. yr B.C. [?, Dalongeville et al., 2001: 78]410 cal. yr A.D. [Ly-7115]) is a clayey sand . . . derived from a marine inundationin a marshy environment, [p]robably a brief event, undated precisely (Lespez et al.,

2004: 448, Figure 6). Unit 2 (

2.6/

5.3 m msl; between 5200 B.C. [estimated] and17401510 cal. yr B.C. [Ly-7116]) corresponds to an organic sandy clay with peatylayers and plant remains deposited in a freshwater environment. The authors sug-gest more precisely a marsh covered by reed vegetation with [s]ignificant coarsefluviatile incomes (Lespez et al., 2004: 448, Figure 6). Unit 1 (5.3/6.2m msl;64206050 cal. yr B.C. [Ly-7122] and 5200 B.C. [estimated]) is a dark brown clay,corresponding to a [t]errestrial sediment [deposited] in a marshy environment(Lespez et al., 2004: 448, Figure 6).

A GEOARCHAEOLOGY OF PRACTICE?

A Reconsideration of the Sedimentary Evidence at Malia and Kalo Chorio

The previously described Unit D at Kalo Chorio and Unit 2 at Malia correspondto fine sediments that were deposited in environments characterized by a high watertable (grayish color described in both units, peaty horizons described in Unit 2 atMalia). They are capped by deposits pointing to higher-energy depositional envi-ronments (top of Unit 2 at Malia and Unit C at Kalo Chorio) (Figure 3). The abovementioned environmental shift is, however, not contemporary at the two locations.

At Kalo Chorio, luminescence dating suggests the deposition of Unit C around4000 B.C. (Zacharias et al., 2009). At Malia, the coarser sediments of the top of Unit

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2 point to an increased runoff between 25802290 cal. yr B.C. (Ly-7118) and 17401510cal. yr B.C. (Ly-7116) (Lespez et al., 2001: 623, 2004: 443, Table I). The charcoal con-centration mentioned above and dated to 25802290 cal. yr B.C. (Ly-7118) formed part

of these sediments. The proposed dates for the top of Unit 2 apparently correlate witha flash-flood and mudflow horizon described in several other locations on Crete. Itis dated from MM I to LM III (ca. 20001250 B.C.; Moody, 2000; see also Grove &Rackham, 2001: 306, Table 16.ii).

The evidence supporting the conclusion of Moody (2000) consists in coarse,unsorted (cobbles, boulders) channel deposits containing Minoan pottery sherds.Termini ante quem are given by varied sources. At the section of Mournies (westernCrete), Roman to Turkish pottery litters the surface above the channel deposits. In theFrangokastello plain (southwestern Crete), the channel deposits bearing MM III to LMI pottery are capped by a sedimentary layer containing Greco-Roman and Byzantinesherds. It itself buries a 15th century chapel and is covered by a 250-year-old carob

tree (see also Nemec & Postma, 1993). Close to Angouseliana (western Crete), thedeposits containing Minoan pottery are capped by a layer containing Late Romanand Byzantine sherds. The latter deposit is itself covered by a 16th- to 17th-centurychapel. The absence of any non-Minoan pottery in the channel deposits further sug-gests a Bronze Age deposition. A similar unsorted channel sediment containing Middleto Late Minoan pottery has been recently described in an archaeological trench locatedin the valley east of the Minoan site of Sissi (ca. 4km east of Malia; Driessen et al., 2009).The chronology provided above is completed by a research carried out in the area ofKavousi (eastern end of the Gulf of Mirabello). In this area, an alluvial deposit con-taining Neopalatial (MM IIIALM IB) pottery has been radiocarbon dated to 14071209

B.C. (Haggis et al., 2005: 1415). The dating of the top of Unit 2 at Malia and of otherdeposits on Crete (Kavousi excepted) indicates that it also overlaps with an impor-tant alluviation episode in the southern Argolid. It has been dated to the late 3rd mil-lennium B.C. (Early Helladic II; van Andel, Zangger, & Demitrack, 1990).

Together with palynological evidence from western Crete (Moody, Rackham, &Rapp, 1996) and a comparison with minor glacial advances in the Alps, Cretan flooddeposits have been related to a climatic shift (ca. 20001250 B.C.) toward greaterweather unpredictability (Moody, 2000). In a later publication, however, Moody sug-gests that the correlation between alpine glacial advances and periods of extremeweather in the Aegean requires further clarification (Moody & Rackham, 2004: 6). Theresults obtained by Moody have been more recently sustained by Macklin et al. (2010).

Macklin et al. (2010) document a major phase of aggradation in the Anapodaris gorge(southern Crete) between ca. 1400 and 1000 B.C. (3.40 0.30 ka [ANOSL9] and 3.00 0.21 ka [ANOSL8], according to the authors OSL ages). Macklin et al. (2010: 49)correlate the event with cooler conditions in the North Atlantic, a period of strength-ening of the Siberian High, overall low sea surface temperature in the Aegean, andlarge-scale flooding and river sedimentation episodes throughout the Mediterranean.The second half of the 2nd millennium B.C. corresponds to a period of abrupt climatechange documented worldwide (Kaniewski et al., 2008). However, this period of cli-matic instability could not be evidenced in western Crete by the study of Bottema andSarpaki (2003). The contrasting palynological results obtained by Moody, Rackham,


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and Rapp (1996) and Bottema and Sarpaki (2003) for the same region of Crete demon-strate that broad climatic patterns do not necessarily account for local variability.In Crete, detailed proxy records of Holocene climate change are still scarce and lim-

ited to the western (Moody, Rackham, & Rapp, 1996; Bottema & Sarpaki, 2003) andsouthern (Macklin et al., 2010) parts of the island. For this reason, these studies rep-resent only a first step toward a deeper understanding of Holocene environmentalvariability on Crete. A better grip on the corresponding driving mechanisms will bepartly achieved through the examination of new, well-dated, Holocene sedimentary suc-cessions, especially in the eastern part of the island. The rich archaeological record ofCrete should also represent an important basis for developing new interpretive strate-gies enhancing our understanding of Holocene environmental variability.

The environmental results presented above can in this sense be linked to thearchaeological evidence of Bronze Age Crete. The two Middle and Late Minoan cross-channel terraces excavated on the islet of Pseira, off the northeast coast of Crete,

can make sense within the climatic reconstruction proposed by Moody (2000).Perhaps less evidently, Moody (2000: 59) suggests that Middle to Late Bronze Age cli-matic instability on Crete could be involved in a new approach to subsistence, aswell as a serious revamping of belief systems and ritual in an effort to control the per-ceived chaos. The author sustains her hypothesis by pointing to the developmentof food stores in Minoan palaces and villas and the simultaneous proliferation ofritual sites. Inferred consequences of the eruption of Thera on the Minoan society(Driessen & Macdonald, 1997) should also be placed in this environmental context.

First human presence in the vicinity of the marsh of Malia is hinted at by the iden-tification of cereal pollen in the base of the core (Mller-Celka, personal communi-

cation, 2009). Dated to no later than the second half of the 7th millennium B.C., it maysuggest an occupation of the Malia Plain as early as the EN (Tomkins, 2008: 29).Considering this possibly very long history of Neolithic occupation, the EM char-coal evidence is problematic. Because charcoal is obviously reworked, its datingonly provides a terminus post quem for the deposition of the coarser sediment inwhich it has been described. However, plant material observed directly on top ofthese coarse sediments gave a date of 23952040 cal. yr B.C. (Ly-7117) (Lespez et al.,2004: 443, Table I). Although it is not known whether this material has been erodedor not, its date is later than that of the underlying charcoal material. Moreover, sincethese charcoal fragments are embedded within a relatively coarse sedimentarymatrix, it is likely that they were not significantly transported. The contrary would

have reduced the fragments to fine, non-datable material. These observations areconsistent with the idea that the charcoal indeed provides a date for the sedimentin which it has been described, that is, the EM period. It is in this sense perhaps sig-nificant that this charcoal concentration seems to be broadly contemporary withthe construction in EM IIB of the first of a series of court buildings on the nearby siteof the later palace. Perhaps more importantly, it also coincides with the emergence ofMalia as a nucleated settlement focus for the surrounding plain and the beginningof urbanism in the region (Driessen, 2007; Schoep, 2007; Whitelaw, forthcoming). Anyinterpretation would in any case have to consider the changing, more energetic, con-ditions of deposition shown by the top of Unit 2. More than a progressive shift of

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sedimentary environment, this process also changed the conditions of existence ofpast people. This is not to say that such a shift drove human decisions and actions.Rather, it set new material conditions of existence, partly responsible for the creation

of what Bourdieu called habitus.Habitus is defined as the systems of durable dispositions which structure, and inturn tend to be reproduced by, social practices (Bourdieu, 2000: 256). The definitionofhabitus proposed by Bourdieu remains somewhat unclear: What are exactlydurable dispositions, and how can they structure social practices? It is worth notingin this context that one point on which readers of Bourdieu seem to generally agreeis the lack of clarity surrounding the definition ofhabitus (Pickel, 2005: 438). Becausehabitus will be used as a key concept in the remainder of this paper, however, itappears important to provide at least workable elements of definition in the con-text of this study. One should, however, not lose sight of the fact that ifhabitus is auseful notion in archaeology, it is perhaps not so much because of its potential sta-

tus of ready-made conceptual tool but because the issues that it raises must beaddressed before archaeology can contribute more fully to the historical under-standing of the study of humanity (Barrett, 2005: 133).

The Notion ofHabitus

Before addressing the question of why geoarchaeology could benefit from thenotion ofhabitus, it is worth mentioning that although popularized by the writingsof Bourdieu, the concept has a long history. It appears in a variety of settings in theworks of Hegel, Husserl, Weber, Durkheim, and Mauss (Jenkins, 2002: 74). Bourdieu

deployed the notion ofhabitus as a way of overcoming the dualisms nature:cultureand structure:agency (Barrett, 2005: 134). Primarily, habitus stresses the embodiedcharacter of human beings and refers to a habitual or typical condition, state orappearance, particularly of the body (Jenkins, 2002: 74). The human body, therefore,represents the substrate upon which the durable dispositions of Bourdieus habi-tus are grounded. This, however, does not mean that the habitus should be reducedto a set of properties characterizing individuals (e.g., typical modes of thinking, feel-ing, wanting, doing, and interacting in a particular social system; Pickel, 2005: 443).Habitus may in fact be best conceived of as an emerging property or as a processoffering a conceptual linkage between cultural, social, psychological and biologicaldimensions of reality (Pickel, 2005: 439). As Bourdieus (2000: 256, see above) def-

inition makes clear, habitus only exists in, through and because of the practices ofactors and their interaction with each other and with the rest of their environment(Jenkins, 2002: 75). A strict acceptance of this definition may leave too little roomfor passively acquired bodily dispositions. However, habitus, through its mobilizationin Bourdieus theory of practice, is believed to be of central relevance to a geoarchae-ological debate aiming at overcoming dualisms such as nature:culture, mind:body,and structure:agency. Habitus understands human beings as inseparable biologicaland social entities (biopsychosocial systems, using Pickels [2005] expression).Drawing on the work of Sewell (2005), it can moreover be said that habitus(schemas in Sewells terms) and material resources (those that can be studied by


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geoarchaeologists) together constitute the structures framing human lives. Habitusbeing grounded in the materiality of the body, habitus and material resources are notexclusive concepts. Habitus and material resources define and actualize each other.

However, whereas material resources are defined by the specificities of place, time,and quantity, habitus can be transposed to cultural contexts beyond those for whichit was originally learned. Structures are therefore emerging, multiple, and inter-secting (Beck et al., 2007: 834835). It is hence believed that habitus provides a con-ceptual means to comprehend how environmental (geological) changes can impactupon human societies at different temporal and spatial scales (from local, daily activ-ities to large-scale, long-term transformations).

It is also worth noting that the bodily dispositions ofhabitus seem to find inter-esting parallels in experimental results provided by neurosciences (Bintliff, 2003,2005, 2009). Of course, Bourdieu himself did not miss establishing these links. In hisMditations pascaliennes (1997), Bourdieu explicitely refers to the work of French

neurobiologist Jean-Pierre Changeux. The durable transformations of the bodyrelated to learning (that is, habitus) are grounded in the strengthening or weaken-ing of synaptic connections.

As a summary, Bourdieus habitus is believed to capture the inescapable dualityof human condition in a far less abstract way than implied by the use of notions suchas environmental and social contexts. Because habitus provides a link between bio-logical dispositions and the surrounding world, it recognizes that human modes de viecan be impacted at different time scales by processes ranging from daily experienceto impalpable geological phenomena. Social practices represent an important (but byno means unique) medium allowing long-term structures to persist. Habitus acknowl-

edges that conscious choice may not necessarily be the dominant motive of this repro-duction (contra the Gibsonian understanding of agency, as reported by Bintliff, 2004).Habitus may finally represent a useful term in a debate aiming at integrating socialand natural processes in a co-evolutionary sense (McGlade, 1995). Concepts such asresponse, adaptation, or impact could in this way be enriched by Bourdieushabitus. Habitus would allow them to be traced at different spatial and temporalscales. In this perspective, the insights offered by Bourdieus theory of practice inunderstanding socio-natural systems can be connected to those of the French Annalesschool (Bintliff, 1991; Knapp, 1992), time perspectivism (Bailey, 2007, for a recentoverview), and nonlinear dynamic theory (e.g., van der Leeuw & McGlade 1997).

Before these insights can be tested against the case studies of Malia and Kalo

Chorio, further elements of interpretation pertaining to the charcoal concentrationat the top of Unit 2 at Malia can be gained. These elements of interpretation areobtained through the application of a simple model of agricultural catchment.

Further Insights from Catchment Analysis at Malia

The charcoal concentration at the top of Unit 2 at Malia may be interpreted as theoutcome of changing attitudes toward the earth. The size of the debris and the speciesrepresented by this charcoal are not known (Lespez, personal communication, 2009).Therefore, an origin by natural fires cannot be ruled out. In this case, however, more

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frequent charcoal signals would be expected in the sedimentary record of the marshof Malia. Natural fires are indeed more common than exceptional in the Mediterraneanlandscape (Grove & Rackham, 2001: 217240). Vegetation change could also explain

the charcoal signal. It could indeed have brought more flammable essences in thedirect vicinity of the marsh. However, the FN to EM palynological record ofthe marsh does not seem to sustain this hypothesis. Together with the appearanceof plants suggesting human intervention (e.g., melon), it indicates a remarkableincrease in tamarisks, known for their low flammability (Dimitrakopoulos &Papaioannou, 2001). Hence it is here proposed to relate the charcoal concentrationto the introduction of new agricultural techniques, to the creation of a new sedi-mentary substrate in the marsh of Malia (creating new plots amenable to agricul-ture), or to a combination of both.

Correlations between the cores at Malia are difficult because of their low densityin the study area and the important variability of the sedimentary facies. One should

therefore be wary of making overly general depictions of these changes. Charcoalhas, moreover, only been described in Carottage 6 (eastern branch of the present-day marshs drainage system; Figure 2), strengthening the fragmented picture of thelandscape surrounding the area now occupied by the marsh. Cores taken in the west-ern drainage system of the present-day marsh (Figure 2) did not yield any evidencefor any such changes associated with charcoal. This observation can be developedfurther by applying a simple model of agricultural catchment to the Minoan town ofMalia.

Although difficulties pertaining to the use of site catchments have been acknowl-edged (e.g., Bailey, 2005), these tools have proven to be heuristically helpful to

approach Neolithic and Bronze Age economies in Crete (e.g., Whitelaw, 2004a;Isaakidou, 2008). In their simplest application, where only staple grain crops areconsidered, their main limitation resides in the difficulty of estimating three keyvariables: (1) the habitation density, (2) the amount of grain required per person andper year, and (3) the annual crop yield. These points are here briefly discussed beforeconsidering their application in the context of Prepalatial (EM IMM IA) Malia.

(1) Estimates for settlement density are to some extent tailored to the nature of thearchaeological record. Excavated Minoan settlements such as Myrtos Fournou Korifi(south Crete; Warren, 1972) or Gournia (east Crete, Gulf of Mirabello; Soles, 1979) pro-vide an ideal basis for assessing the occupation of space on the basis of favored modelsof social organization, such as the nuclear family (Whitelaw, forthcoming). The suit-

ability of Myrtos Fournou Korifi and Gournia can partly be explained by their limitedreoccupation. The good preservation of the archaeological remains also makes possi-ble the detailed analysis of the architecture and associated finds (Whitelaw, 1983, 2001,2007). The results of such studies are particularly meaningful thanks to the complete(Myrtos Fournou Korifi) or nearly complete (Gournia) exploration of the settlements.The high level of detail characterizing the excavation reports of Warren (1972) andBoyd Hawes (see references in Soles, 1979) also facilitates later interpretations.Generally speaking, the richness of the Minoan architectural record renders it partic-ularly amenable to such analyses. The use of the figures obtained can, however, beproblematic, notably for the definition of the size of a community (Relaki, 2003: 91101;


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Sollars, 2005). Population estimates on the basis of house sizes have nevertheless pro-vided important insights pertaining to the nature of the Minoan social organization andthe trajectories followed by Minoan sites (Whitelaw, 2004b; Driessen, in press).

Where pottery scatters are considered, population density estimates are morevariable and are defined by authors on a more or less arbitrary basis. Isaakidou(2008: 102103), for example, calculates population densities at NeolithicEM Knossoson the basis of three densities (100, 200, and 300 inhabitants/ha). However, follow-ing Broodbank (1992), the dimension of the settlements agricultural catchment isdefined on the basis of a density of 200 inhabitants/ha (Isaakidou, 2008: 102103).Trying to define period-sensitive densities, Whitelaw (forthcoming) proposes esti-mates ranging from 200 to 400 inhabitants/ha for the Minoan towns of Knossos,Phaistos, and Malia. Where the latter settlement is considered, a density of 400 inhab-itants/ha is admitted for EM III. A density of 300 inhabitants/ha is adopted forEM IIIMM IA. Considering this variability, agricultural catchments for Prepalatial

Malia have here been calculated using 100 and 400 inhabitants/ha as boundary values.(2) Where the amount of grain required per person and per year is considered, the

figure of 250 kg proposed by Isaakidou (2008: 102, with references) is here admittedwithout further discussion.

(3) Finally, the question of the annual crop yield is intimately related to chosenmodels of agricultural practices. On the basis of the work of Halstead (1981)and others, Isaakidou (2008: 9899) proposed the values of 1500 kg/ha for an intensivesystem of cultivation (garden cultivation with hand tillage, manuring, weeding, andwatering, probably combined with small-scale herding). The figure of 1000 kg/ha hasbeen suggested for an extensive agricultural model. The latter is believed to be rep-

resentative of socially inegalitarian contexts associated with the later Bronze Agepalaces of southern Greece (tillage by ox-drawn ards, cereal/fallow agriculture).The EM period sees the emergence of proto-urban, nucleated settlements in Crete

(Whitelaw, forthcoming). It is associated with large-scale works on the site of the laterpalaces (Knossos: Tomkins, forthcoming; Whitelaw, forthcoming; Malia: Driessen,2007; Schoep, 2007; but Whitelaw, forthcoming; Phaistos: Militello, forthcoming;Todaro, forthcoming). Therefore, assuming the applicability of one of these two agri-cultural models may be a highly debatable enterprise. For this reason, calculationshave here been made on the basis of both agricultural systems.

Tables II, III, and IV summarize the results obtained for Prepalatial Malia. Figure 4provides a graphic representation of agricultural catchments where boundary values

are represented (bold figures in Tables III and IV). In this simplified assessment, fur-ther hypotheses have been made.

First, space occupied by constructions has not been taken into account. Hencecatchments have been represented around a center corresponding to the core of thetown of Malia.

Second, soil fertility is considered homogeneous in every direction around thetown. Where difficulties related to cultivation on steep slopes are considered, thiscan to some extent be considered as a not overly strong simplification. The plain ofMalia is indeed relatively flat and steep slopes are rather scarce in this area (seeWhitelaw, 2004a: 240).

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Third, catchments encroaching on the sea have not been corrected in order to

account for the loss of land.More sensitive estimates taking into account the incorporation of seafood and

tree crops in the Prepalatial diet could qualify the correction to be brought to the agri-cultural catchments here presented. Although admittedly simplified and capable offurther refinement, the agricultural catchments presented for Prepalatial Malia canprove to be heuristically useful in the context of this study. Figure 4 indicates thatalready in EM III, the marsh occupies a position which potentially overlaps with the agri-cultural catchment of the town of Malia, depending on preferred population density andcultivation model. The observation of charcoal flecks dating no later than EM II, only inthe eastern drainage system of the marsh, may provide further information.

Table II. Populations of Prepalatial Malia.

No. of Inhabitants

Site Area (ha) 100/ha 200/ha 300/ha 400/ha

EM III 4 400 800 1200 1600EM IIIMM IA 57.3 500730 10001460 15002190 20002920

Based on site areas proposed by Whitelaw (forthcoming) and calculated for densities of 100, 200, 300, and 400inhabitants/ha.

Table III. Agricultural catchments at Prepalatial Malia.

Intensive Farming (1500kg/ha)

kg of Grain/yr, Assuming a Basic Intake of250 kg/(head.yr) and a Population Density of:

100/ha 200/ha 300/ha 400/ha Land (ha) Radius (m)

EM III 100,000 200,000 300,000 400,000 66.7266.7 461921EM IIIMM IA 125,000 250,000 375,000 500,000

1,825,000 365,000 547,500 730,000 83.3486.7 5151245

Calculated on the basis of an intensive farming system and by using 100 and 400 inhabitants/ha as boundaryvalues for population densities.

Table IV. Agricultural catchments at Prepalatial Malia.

Extensive Farming (1000 kg/ha)

kg of Grain/yr, Assuming a Basic Intake of

250 kg/(head.yr) and a Population Density of:100/ha 200/ha 300/ha 400/ha Land (ha) Radius (m)

EM III 100,000 200,000 300,000 400,000 100400 5641128EM III MM IA 125,000 250,000 375,000 500,000 125730 6311524

1,825,000 365,000 547,500 730,000

Calculated on the basis of an extensive farming system and by using 100 and 400 inhabitants/ha as boundaryvalues for population densities.


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Further environmental work is here clearly desired. Future research related to thespatial organization of subsistence practices in Prepalatial Crete should also considerthe likely coexistence of intensive and extensive modes of cultivation, opening the

possibility for an exploration of more complex patterns of land use in and aroundproto-urban towns.

Synthesis: Environmental and Social Changes at Kalo Chorio and Malia

Following the previous discussion, Prepalatial changes in agricultural practicescan be understood in terms of spatial extension, taking the form of a growing circleof cultivated fields around an inhabited core. This, however, could arguably be con-sidered as a poor account ofhow change was actually performed and experiencedby knowledgeable agents. Tomkins and Schoep (2010: 68) recently argued that con-tinuity and change are best understood, from the bottom up, as flowing from the

actions of people operating under specific conditions of existence (Day, Wilson, &Kiriatzi, 1997; Barrett & Damilati, 2004; Tomkins, 2004: 3941). One way of doingthis is to focus on lower-level analytical categories of practice, context and agency. . . .Following this embodied perspective, it is here proposed that it is also the propertyof sediments to accumulate and to form deeply layered assemblages that can helppeople cope with change. Sediments can form the material substrate of a wide rangeof practices pertaining to subsistence activities. In places such as coastal lowlandsand valleys where the conditions of deposition are quickly shifting, this property isconsiderably enhanced (Sturt, 2006). Accumulation may simultaneously conceal andmake apparent. The material properties of newly deposited layers constitute the

basis for potentially different forms of meaning to be created, involving potentiallydifferent forms of engagement with the earth. By dwelling in their environmentthatis, by being immersed in their lifeworld as an inescapable condition of existence(Ingold, 2000: 153)people can incorporate in their life the continuous coming intobeing of the world. Dwelling in the world hence opens up the possibility of beingattuned to the rhythms of growth of sedimentary bodies, making their layered char-acter more apparent (Lefebvre, 1992).

It is therefore suggested that the changing relations between people and the earthat EM Malia can be usefully expressed through the notions of layering and net-working (Knappett, 2006). These two terms, close to Chapmans (2000) accumula-tion and enchainment, represent fundamental modes through which agency exists

beyond the limits of the human body. Hence they represent basic social practices intowhich any form of understanding of the world is grounded. Engaging with sets of accu-mulated (or layered) material is a way to make conspicuous layerings thataccumulate memory at places and in regard to people and objects (Gamble, 2007: 122).These layers, in turn, provide the material basis for reproducing the durable, sedi-mented dispositions of Bourdieus habitus. By digging, plowing, uprooting plants, ortapping groundwater from a shallow aquifer (cf. the sedimentary facies of Unit 2 atMalia and Unit D at Kalo Chorio) by the excavation of pits or ditches, EM people gen-erated the possibility of being confronted with the stratified material residues of thepast. These can take the form of plant debris, coarse sediments deposited during


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heavy rains, and charcoal fragments (Unit 2; Dalongeville et al., 2001: 80). It is thusthrough the layering of mineral and organic remains that associations with the pastcould potentially be made, environmental change experienced, meaning of place

created, and habitus reproduced. Similar lines of interpretation can be proposed atthe nearby site of Sissi (ca. 4 km east of Malia), where ongoing geoarchaeologicalresearches have recognized traces of Final Neolithic/Early Minoan to Late Minoanhuman activities in a coastal valley. They seem to have been focused first around aban-doned river channel fills. This environment most probably provided early inhabi-tants of the nearby Kephali hill (see Driessen et al., 2009) with important naturalresources (water, plants). In the course of the Bronze Age, these deposits were cov-ered by a hybrid sedimentary unit made of fluvial sediments, charcoal fragments, FinalNeolithic/Early Minoan to Late Minoan pottery sherds, root penetrations, and vegeta-tion remains. The latter facies has been interpreted as the result of gardening activi-ties carried out in a flood plain environment. At Sissi, as at Malia, human engagement

with the soil brought to light a wide array of materials helping establish links withpeople and other places (Sturt, 2006).

A place, such as the marsh of Malia, comes into focus through its relation withother places, creating a network of relationships captured in the notion of landscape(Thomas, 2001). Changes pertaining to the material conditions of subsistence prac-tices could consequently be linked by people to those affecting other spheres of every-day life. Changes affecting the built landscape on the Malia plain, on the site of theproto-urban town and later palace, were thus part of a broader transformation affect-ing the material basis of past existences. Although further environmental work isclearly needed, it appears that this observation could be extended to changes

in the yearly pattern of rainfall distribution (Moody, 2000) and to an important alter-ation of the vegetal landscape surrounding the marsh of Malia. The FN to EM periodon the Malia plain indeed witnesses the appearance of pollen from fig trees, melons,and sedges, as well as the dramatic increase of tamarisks (Mller-Celka, personalcommunication, 2009). The appearance of melon has been documented at about thesame moment in the core of Delphinos (western Crete). Since melon is a pronouncedinsect pollinator, long-distance transport of pollen is unlikely. Early cultivation ofmelon being reported from Egypt, the pollen of Delphinos is taken as evidence for con-tacts with Egypt at that time (Bottema & Sarpaki, 2003: 745). Egyptian imports inCrete become evident in EM IIIII and are thought to have ensured the supply of pres-tige goods and technologies essential to emerging elite groups (Tomkins & Schoep,

2010). While the notion ofhabitus has been criticized for its lack of clarity when itcomes to the question of how such bodily dipositions produce practices (Jenkins,2002: 80), one may find in the fundamental processes of layering and networking (oraccumulation and enchainment) new avenues for a better understanding of how thematerial world can orient practices and shape human identity (see also Gamble, 2007).

In the case of Knossos, Isaakidou (2008) suggested an increased reliance on exten-sive cultivation in EM III. This contrasts with earlier modes of cultivation, proba-bly focused on more intensive, horticultural techniques (also Halstead, 1981). ForMalia, it has been proposed here that the shift in agricultural practices suggested bythe charcoal concentration was related to the change in material conditions

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embodied by the infilling of the marsh. By allowing social practices to be structuredby time, Bourdieus theory offers the possibility of bridging the gap between coarsegeological and fine archaeological dating systems. It is indeed through day-to-day

experience implied by practices of subsistence activities that geological processeswould have been understood and could have shaped the durable dispositions encap-sulated by the notion ofhabitus. In this scheme where time integrally participatesin the creation and reproduction ofhabitus, geological and human processes cometo be mutually implicated rather than causally related. Together with the aforemen-tioned changes in the vegetal and built landscapes of Malia during the Early BronzeAge, the charcoal concentration of Unit 2 may signal a fundamental shift in the waystructuring conditions embodied by the marsh of Malia are reproduced. For the firsttime since possibly the EN, this reproduction is also driven by archaeologically vis-ible human practices. It cannot be pure coincidence that this reproduction occurredat a time when important social changes related to the emergence of the palatial

society are suspected. Personal and group habitus were subject to change accord-ing to new social standards. Archaeology tells us that this change was also per-formed by embodied actors evolving in new material landscapes (vegetation, builtenvironment). According to the alternative reading here proposed, geology also sug-gests that the simultaneous shifts of geological substrate in the marsh of Malia couldhave served as a basis for the bodily understanding of change through agriculturalpractices. Radiocarbon dates suggest that the rapid lithological changes observed inthe upper part of Unit 2 and indicating higher-energy depositional conditions couldhave occurred during a time span short enough to have enabled the perception of suc-cession and duration based on accumulated personal or transgenerational group

memory (5075 years, according to Hull, 2005: 360). In prehistoric societies such asthose of the Neolithic and Bronze Age of Crete, it is likely that unusual events andprocesses helped the understanding of duration and change. It is hence proposed thatthe reproduction of the marsh as a structuring condition of human life arose outof the particular social circumstances embodied by the emergence of a palatial land-scape. The marshs own geological dynamic could have provided an important basisfor establishing the temporal framework of this emergence.

As suggested earlier, a similar, but not contemporary, sequence of deposition(from calm to higher-energy sedimentary conditions) has been described at KaloChorio. Accurate correlation of the sediments of Malia and Kalo Chorio wouldundoubtedly improve our appreciation of the timing of environmental changes.

A focus on correlation could equally confine the debate to one of cause-and-effectaimed at defining the origin, spatial extent, and temporality of deposition episodes.It is, however, clear that contemporaneity between (geo)archaeological phenomenacan only be established within certain margins of errors (Olivier, 2001). This makescausal relations highly scale-dependent (Bailey, 2007). It is not the intention of thispaper to question the relevance of these studies. Such work represents the funda-mental building blocks of more than 40 years of geoarchaeological research inNeolithic and Bronze Age Mediterranean (Bintliff, 1992, 2000b; Macklin & Woodward,2009, for useful overviews). But the recent work carried out by Krahtopoulou (2000)in northern Greece has demonstrated the difficulty of correlating depositional events,


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even in adjacent valleys and using a remarkably high number of chronological mark-ers. This is not to say that the task is impossible (which would largely be contra-dicted by the results of the same research), but perhaps the issue of correlation can

be sidestepped by viewing the sedimentary records differently. In this way and inBourdieus terms, the sedimentary sequences at Malia and Kalo Chorio can be under-stood as the embodiment of similar shifts in the material conditions of existence.

Although it is acknowledged that the sedimentary systems of Malia and KaloChorio are not comparable directly in geological termsa shallow, coastal depres-sion filled by episodic sediment input at Malia against a better developed fluviatilesystem at Kalo Chorioit is believed that the sediments at both places have beendeposited under similar local environmental conditions. What is interesting is thatunlike at Malia, where charcoal is present in a single level, at Kalo Chorio, charcoalflecks have been described at various levels of the Holocene sequence (Figure 3).If these fragments are indeed related to human activities, as suggested by Pavlopoulos

et al. (2007: 228), this observation could serve as a warning against any extremeform of environmental determinism. Activities related to the land apparently dif-fered at the two places in their nature and timing, despite the broadly similar localproperties and evolution of the sediments. Bintliff (1996, 2000a) is probably rightwhen he blames extreme phenomenological approaches that tend to dismiss anyform of human ecology. Following Ingold (2000: 25), human beings are indeed rec-ognized as organisms/persons, where the latter aspect cannot be distinguished fromthe former and vice versa. The question here, however, is perhaps partly one of scale.Since the Neolithic, fertile and (frequently) coastal valleys indeed seem to have beenpreferentially targeted by early Cretan farmers (Strasser, 1996; Tomkins, 2008). At the

scale of millennia, such environments seem to have been part of Cretan communi-ties habitus. At a smaller scale of investigation, this bias toward fertile lowlandscan be qualified by highlighting the differing ways through which these were inte-grated in the lives of discrete social groups.

The concept of affordance developed by Gibson (1979) may here be useful. Inthe present case, affordance expresses the way environments have the capacity tosuggest their use (for a discussion of the term, see Knappett, 2004, 2005). Wherecharcoal evidence is considered, the (geo)archaeological records of Malia and KaloChorio suggest that similar environments were vested with different affordances.One could seek an explanation for this contrasting evidence by evoking the broaderlandscapes in each area.

As Figure 2 illustrates, an issue ofscale is perhaps at work. The coastal lowlandsnow occupied by the marsh of Malia cover a far smaller area than the coastal plainof Kalo Chorio. This difference of scale may have rendered the coastal lowlands ofMalia and Kalo Chorio more or less amenable to particular forms of agriculture. Onecould, for example, suggest that a larger surface might encourage the creation oflarger plots. It could also foster the use of techniques one would traditionally asso-ciate with extensive forms of agriculture (see above). It is also likely that access tothe best agricultural lands would be dependent on their spatial extension.

Beyond these areas filled by Holocene sediments, further contrasts between Maliaand Kalo Chorio can be highlighted. At Malia, the plain is composed of gently rolling

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hills bordered to the south by the Selena Mountains. At Kalo Chorio, a rugged land-scape dissected by small valleys created opportunities only for agriculturally more mar-ginal forms of settlement, for example, on top of local topographical highs (Figure 5).

Because the area of Kalo Chorio is mainly composed of strongly cemented Neogenemarls, sandstones, clays, and conglomerates, it is unlikely that the colonization of thehinterland would favor major soil erosion or propensity to erosion (Hayden et al.,2004: 44). Rather, more marginal forms of living would be created by the steep andheavily dissected topography. It could also have arisen out of the possible competi-tion for controlling inland water sources and pockets of lighter soil away from thefertile corridor represented by the valley of the Istron river. Moreover, large-scale herd-ing in the hinterland of Kalo Chorio was probably hampered by the topography. Therestricted distribution of particular minerals, such as granodioritic rocks (Hayden et al.,2004: Figure 8), may have introduced further difficulties for inland communities.

The phenomenon of marginal colonization during the transition between the FN

and the EM period is well known and the issues it raises have been debated at lengthelsewhere (security: Nowicki, 2002, 2008; site interaction and intervisibility: Tomkinset al., 2004; subsistence: Halstead, 2008; Tomkins, 2008). Significantly, marginal colo-nization on Crete has been related to a mid-Holocene climatic shift toward a moreextreme aridity, seasonality, and unpredictability characterizing the modernMediterranean climate (Tomkins, 2010; see also Roberts et al., 2001; Roberts & Reed,2009). Marginal colonization in the area of Kalo Chorio raises the possibility that socialvalues different from those at work in Malia may have participated in the creation ofdifferent dispositions toward the land. The contrasting settlement patterns during theFN and EM periods in the plains of Malia and Kalo Chorio further illustrate this possi-

bility. Whereas only one Neolithic site is known from the plain of Malia, several have beenreported from the Kalo Chorio area (Figures 5, 6). At Malia, however, indirect evidence(pollen in the base of the core dated to the EN) suggests that this observation is likelyto be the consequence of a recovery bias. In the area of Kalo Chorio, human presenceearlier than the FN is strongly suggested by the identification of pottery importsfrom this area in EN to FN ceramic assemblages from Knossos (Tomkins, 2001, 2008;Tomkins & Day, 2001; Tomkins, Day, & Kilikoglou, 2004). Combined macroscopic andmicroscopic study of ceramic fabric points to the presence of one or more producinggroups resident in the Gulf of Mirabello. This is further supported by the identificationof two granodiorite axes in Neolithic levels at Knossos (Strasser, 2008). The first oneis dated to LN II, while the second is dated to FN I (Strasser, 2008, with chronology

adapted to the new system proposed by Tomkins, 2008). The nature of the stone indi-cates a source located in the Gulf of Mirabello (Strasser, 2008: 157). These studies alto-gether illustrate the important problem of archaeological visibility pertaining to theNeolithic of Crete. Early settlement indeed seems to have favored areas close to fer-tile soils and fresh water, currenly buried under several meters of middle to lateHolocene alluvial and coastal sediments (Tomkins, 2008: 38).

In this sense, the EM period marks a stage of increased archaeological visibil-ity in the plain of Malia. Considering the above discussion, subsurface investiga-tion of the marsh of Malia would represent an obvious strategy for bringing tolight new traces of Neolithic occupation. The first major occupation at Malia


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seems to have been in EM IIA (Whitelaw, forthcoming). Under the later palace, theearliest structures are dated to EM IIB (Whitelaw, forthcoming), but the presencealso of some EM I pottery (Tomkins, personal communication, 2009) hints at ear-lier activity in the vicinity. Population growth at Malia seems only to take off later

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Figure 5. Distribution map of (a) FN, (b) EM I, and (c) EM IIA sites in the area of Kalo Chorio (modifiedafter Hayden, 2003).


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699

on, at the end of the Early Bronze Age and at the start of the Middle Bronze Age(Whitelaw, forthcoming). Setting aside the question of whether or not the EM IIBbuildings were organized around an open space, the predecessor of the centralcourt of the later (EM III/MM IA) palace, it is intriguing to note that their con-struction seems to coincide with the first archaeologically visible traces of humanpresence around the area now occupied by the marsh of Malia. By EM II at Malia,material transformations may therefore be seen to be impacting different spheres

Figure 6. Distribution map of (a) Neolithic and (b) EM sites in the plain of Malia. Background map mod-ified after Mller (1996).


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of human life. In contrast with this picture, the area of Kalo Chorio remained set-tled during the Bronze Age by small-scale communities. This suggests differentsocial conditions and hence potentially different attitudes toward the earth.

Mirroring the suggestions made by Isaakidou (2008) at Knossos, these differing atti-tudes could indeed have formed an integral part of the strategies creating andreproducing social inequalities.

CONCLUSIONS

It has been argued in this paper that the application of social science theory can beof help to solve, or at least to sidestep, well-known methodological problems in geoar-chaeology. Bourdieus habitus in this way makes the integration of geoarchaeologicalresults into historical reconstructions easier. Sediments are deposited by various

processes (Schiffer, 1987), but they are also an integral part of the human materialworld and hence contribute to the structuring of past peoples lives. Earth scientistsand other specialists of past environments, through the development of new method-ologies and techniques, will contribute to a more complete picture of the mechanismsdriving environmental (meta)stability and change. The theory of practice of Bourdieurepresents, it is believed, a helpful tool in order to understand more fully how struc-tural conditions embodied by the environment (and of which sediments are only arestricted component) can also, and in circumstances we should try to elucidate, bemaintained and transformed (consciously or not) through human practices. Habitushas therefore been understood in this contribution as a useful tool to understand how

the material world can (consciously or not) impact human actions. Through the notionofhabitus, this article tried to explain how loose notions such as environmental andsocial contexts can be collapsed into a model of human practices grounded in thebody. The fact that social practices only represent a facet of the mechanisms explain-ing the transmission of structures through time raises several questions one cannotignore: When, how, and why did social practices participate in the transmission of thematerial conditions imposed by the environment? What are the spatial and temporalscales of this participation? By shifting the focus of enquiries from the moment in timeat which a (geo)archaeological phenomenon occurs to the mechanisms of transmis-sion of this phenomenon through time, we open up a means of overcoming long-standing issues of cause and effect. Because Bourdieus sociology is one of relations

between individuals, groups, and classes (Lallement, 1993: 129; classes are, however,considered by Bourdieu as active products instead of neatly defined entities; Pinto,2002: 126), its application to geoarchaeology allows the problem of scale to be recastin a way that perhaps makes it easier to tackle. While the issue has been traditionallyframed as a problem of integrating different types of scientific data (Walsh, 1999: 5),once viewed through the lens of Bourdieus theory of practice, the focus shifts to anassessment of how sediments, traditionally considered as environmental proxies, mayhave come to shape habitus at different social scales. By allowing social practices tobe structured by time, Bourdieus theory of practice also offers the possibility of bring-ing together archaeological and geological time resolutions.

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701

The core of this article was initially delivered at the conference Geoarchaeology 2009: Landscape toLaboratory and Back Again, held at the University of Sheffield (April 1517, 2009). This event was organ-ized by Gianna Ayala, Mark Bateman, and John Wainwright, whom I thank for the opportunity to test outsome of the ideas presented here. This article forms part of an ongoing PhD research supervised by Jan

Driessen and Cecile Baeteman. It largely benefited from critical comments and suggestions by PeterTomkins and Carl Knappett. I am most obliged to Matthew Johnson for having generously agreed to com-ment on a late version of this paper. Laurent Lespez and Kosmas Pavlopoulos kindly shared essentialinformation related to their geomorphological work carried out at Malia and Kalo Chorio. Three anony-mous referees are thanked for their constructive and stimulating comments, from which this articlegreatly benefited. I finally thank John Wainwright, Jamie Woodward, and Gary Huckleberry for their edi-torial handling and encouragement. None of these persons should, however, be held responsible for theviews expressed in this article.

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