The
subject is addictive. Once one has begun,
one is constantly
thinking about brochs:
what they might be; what they might mean; and
jotting down thoughts and possibilities, occasionally scribbling out likely
solutions to various haunting problems.
What really happened inside?
Was there something cosmic here? The
idea arises: how are brochs orientated?
Might there be something relevant
in this question? Could
brochs be specifically directed like
cathedrals that are religiously
symbolically positioned east-west?
So one starts searching and discovers
a paper: Shedding Light on the Matter:
An Exploration into the Regional Orientation Patterns of the Brochs
and Duns of Iron Age Scotland by Thomas
Crowther – see:
http://www.assemblage.group.shef.ac.uk/pdfs/issue11/Crowther_-_Shedding_Light_on_the_Matter.pdf
What more might one want? The result is that there is nothing
obviously
definitive in
this idea, such is
the scope of
variations in orientation in brochs and
duns across Scotland. It seems that there
is no overall
rule, just, perhaps, regional and other
variations. One observation is interesting: that the broch entrance had been positioned to make the approach an awkward turn. The author concludes:
It
is by conducting the above analysis that this paper has attempted to
shed new light on Scottish orientation research, and by which it is
suggested that instead of a uniform E/SE orientation majority that
spread throughout Iron Age Scottish society, there was actually wide
spread variation that was in accordance with architectural
distinctions. The author hopes to instigate further scholarly
research into the orientation patterns of Iron Age Scotland.
Entry to Mousa broch - facing west, requiring an awkward turn
Then
one asks: exactly what might be the rationale in the siting of the
brochs? There has been a lot of fuzzy talk
about this. Might brochs
all see one other,
even if they all orientated differently for
whatever reasons?
Could this
relationship perhaps
be the contrary possibility
– that they do ‘see’ each other only
because this allows each to supervise
overlapping perspectives
for defensive
purposes? Or
might their prominence
be for navigation, that the brochs were
landmarks for fishermen and traders?
A detailed map of
all brochs in Shetland is
needed to peruse and
test these possibilities.
The idea lingers
and one starts looking. Most of the maps
are too general to be useful; too loosely diagrammatic with their
information. After
a frustrating beginning, one
discovers Towards
a geography of Shetland Brochs by Noel
Fojut – see:
http://www.euppublishing.com/doi/pdfplus/10.3366/gas.1982.9.9.38
The paper not only has a map clearly
showing the 75 broch sites in Shetland, but also comes with a
detailed analysis of broch sitings in general: their
‘geography.’
Mousa broch looking north
This study is interesting in its seemingly rigorous and
all-encompassing overview, but becomes a concern. It looks
comprehensively at the 'geography' of brochs, their locations,
relationships and inter-relationships, and analyses these
juxtapositions and their unique contexts with mathematical precision;
but this, it turns out, is a study based on a very limited scope of
understanding. The study appears to assume that the broch was used
for the community, well some of the community, to live in without
offering any reason or reference for this supposition:
The
minimum population which could have constructed a broch, and carried
on the daily work of subsistence agriculture, is probably around 40
individuals (25 able-bodied adults), while there is obviously a
maximum set by the size of the territory, the quality of the land and
other resources, and the amount of living space provided by a broch
and any contemporary outbuildings. Extreme examples of population
maxima in Shetland may range from 50 at more remote sites to 200 at
sites such as Eastshore. The mean figure is just over 80. Given 100
brochs, this gives a broch-period population of about 4000-8000, plus
a small figure for isolated groups not participating in
broch-building and use.
Carloway broch, Lewis
The
critical line is: and the amount of living space provided by a
broch. Even
though this ‘living space’ also includes the
possibility of any contemporary outbuildings,
the assumption is there that
brochs were lived in. This
seems a big jump because Fojut makes no statement on what the broch
actually might be as a place or a space. It is simply a word that
refers to a particular building type of a defined era. It seems that
Fojut is happy to accept that it is a building for folk to live in
without knowing much about this. How? What numbers? It does not seem
possible to have 50 – perhaps 80 (mean) or more people living in a
broch. Surely it did not accommodate everyone? Simple figures
outlined in blog on brochs, (
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/01/on-brochs-enigma-of-meaning-form.html),
raises questions on this issue, and notes, by way of example, the
number of animals that might be part of this group if indeed animals
were brought into the broch space too, as some have speculated. A
broch could not accommodate any great number of people or animals: so
what is its role?
Later
in the study there is a greater concern that makes one wonder why the
study is given any credence, sense or relevance at all:
The
whole of this complex process of selection can be structured into a
'model', or generalised framework, using the data obtained from the
various analyses described in this paper. The model is of
flow-diagram form and attempts a description of the portion of the
prehistoric decisionmaking process which was founded upon economic,
and therefore environmental, considerations, where such
considerations had a spatial dimension. The model must remain
partial, for it cannot deal with those factors affecting decisions
which did not have a direct spatial expression. Superstition,
religious belief, historical accident, tradition, social structure
and prehistoric politics must all be largely excluded. These, perhaps
the most fascinating aspects of the society under study, remain
largely inaccessible. The location model, presented as fig. 7,
depends upon four vital assumptions, all of which might well have
been open to disturbance from the 'non-spatial' factors cited above.
True
to academic rationalisation and its innate
sureness in its process, its demanding formal approach to research,
the study defines its limitations, but continues to
declare its results as
though these might be sensible, suggesting
that something tangible can come from this PhD research in spite of
the huge void it is working around. How can
critical unknowns simply
be ignored? The words are clear:
Superstition, religious belief,
historical accident, tradition, social structure and prehistoric
politics must all be largely excluded
even though These (are)
perhaps the most fascinating aspects
of the society under study. It
is simply astonishing that this work is presented without any apology
or cringe; that its self-confidence and certainty is declared in its
own expression, as if it might make reasonable sense to say that if
we have 1, (but we do not know this), and assuming that we have 2,
(and we do not know this either), then the total is exactly 3, all
when 1 and 2 might prove to be anything, or some unknown number, or
nothing at all. Yet there seems to be
silent applause and latent praise for
the outcome; and some self-satisfaction.
It is a little like Douglas Adams’ comic
science fiction novel, The Hitchhiker’s
Guide to the Galaxy, where the
supercomputer named Deep Thought determined the ultimate answer to
life, the universe, and everything to be the number 42.
The major concern is that brochs might only exist because of these
'unknowns’ that might play a critical, a
crucial role in their ‘geography.’ Still
Fojut pushes ahead regardless to present
his visions of how settlement and broch building can
become a formal flow chart. Knowing that
these ‘fascinating’
matters might be all
intertwined in all other matters in the
Iron Age that Fojut explores so rationally with such depth and
intrigue, leaves one truly worried about such specialisation and
formally fragmented formats framing
research results.
Intramural stairs, Carloway broch
Might
the broch be: a store for important cultural things; a food store; a
trading post; a chapel; a lookout; a landmark; a defensive retreat; a
burial ground; a charnel house; a meeting hall; a guest's house; etc.
? Might it be all of these in one? Can one really talk about broch
locations without knowing what brochs were, or hypothesising on what
brochs might be, both physically and functionally, politically and
spiritually? What sense might there be in any location beyond
guessing that it is important for a broch to be positioned close to
arable ground, a coastline and/or a defensive location?
Carloway broch
Fotul's
study, within its limits, is academically
proper, thorough and of abstract
interest. He does look specifically at the
relationships between brochs and, as he
calls it, their ‘intervisibility,’ which was the question that
began this search. He points out that not
all brochs relate visually to others – assuming
a 10m maximum height
limit. He has walked Shetland and looked at each site. He
has seen his
subject and its scope. One
has to wonder: why is it that Brian
Smith, as late as 2016 – see New
Shetlander No 276, 2016:
The 2016 Simmer
edition of the New Shetlander offers plenty of interesting reading
material. Brian Smith’s recent intriguing and popular lecture ‘Did
Mousa Broch have a roof? - and why not!’ is published here in full,
complete with 17 illustrations.
still
chooses to argue that brochs were large so
that they could be seen from a distance from other brochs; and
that they were so positioned
for communication between brochs, for
‘intervisibility’ – possibly using fire?
As noted in the first blog,
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/01/on-brochs-enigma-of-meaning-form.html,
he does not say what might have been said
in any communication.
What is one to
make of his 'no roof' proposition?
Why is it that broch studies never seem to lock into firm
evidence, agree,
and move on to other matters with this
concordance, but rather
choose to continually start new and
provocatively differing strands of study,
research and interpretation? Is it
to distract with 'false news,' like President Trump, so
the paper can be published and catch attention as endless debate
continues? Surely
‘intervisibilty’ is a black and white issue? If this cannot be
agreed, what can be? Is Smith going to argue for a piecemeal connection
between a few sets of brochs?
View south from Mousa broch
Smith’s
talk (also a published paper in New Shetlander) made a big
point of his preference, drawing lines to prove his theory, but only
between a few brochs near Mousa. Fojut’s diagram confirms that
there are three adjacent brochs that share visual contact with Mousa.
The map seems definitive – assuming, as Fojut did, a 10 metre
height for brochs. Maybe he has a problem here? Mousa broch stands
thirteen metres high. No one really knows how tall other brochs –
well, any broch – might have been. Still, the diagram is worth
perusing because it appears to be certainly not a given, not a fact,
that (all?) brochs were located to create a visual linkage for
communication. This surprising claim (was it for all brochs?) makes
one begin doubting Smith’s other declaration: that Mousa, (and all
brochs?), had no roof; that the scarcement was there to support
scaffolding: see previous analysis suggesting otherwise in
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/01/on-brochs-enigma-of-meaning-form.html
Interior of Mousa broch
So
the mishmash of broch research continues, as do one’s ponderings.
How can broch research begin to incorporate such fascinating
aspects of the society under study as superstition, religious
belief, historical accident, tradition, social structure and
prehistoric politics? Surely
this is as critical as the other factors argued for
previously: the
incorporation into broch research of
the factual world or engineers and architects that can assist in
decoding the remnants, the
pieces of brochs left to us.
Carloway broch
What
superstitions did the Iron Age have? What religion? What burial
practices? The latter question has already been asked. A few papers
have been noted (see below).
An overview has revealed
in one text the
observation that the sacred
and the profane
were very much intertwined in this period:
In contrast, Iron Age
mythology appears to have focused on subterranean or water dwelling
(Chthonic) deities and to have been completely integrated with
domesticity. Some roundhouses appear to have been deliberately built
into chambered cairns, using the burial chambers for ritual purposes
within, rather than separate from the home. The deliberate deposition
of human and animal body parts within the walls and under the floors
of dwellings is also known and further strengthens the view that the
secular and sacred were indivisible in Iron Age Scotland.
This
statement must surely leave a cold shiver of doubt running through
research that currently
seems
content to smugly rationalise positions into
a qualified certainty while
not knowing much about what is surely an important, core
aspect of the era.
This
apparently acceptable neglect
might fit in with our fragmented and specialised understanding of our
own world,
but, as was pointed out
previously, we must never
gauge other societies from
our perspective, experience,
hopes or understandings
(Ananda Coomaraswamy).
One might add that we should also look at other times as an integral
whole, not piecemeal or in part, for this specialisation
can only offer poor guidance to our revelations, and perceptions.
One
is left wondering what the research on Iron Age burials might
suggest.
SOME
TEXTS ON IRON AGE BURIALS
https://www.theguardian.com/science/2016/mar/17/warrior-king-uncovered-yorkshire-iron-age-settlement
27 APRIL 2019
For more on building brochs see:
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