"Ancient Peruvian practices are summarized by J.H. Rowe; Chinchorro mummies by M.S. Rivera; San Agustín, Colombia, by R.D. Drennan; Moche by C.B. Donnan; Nasca by P.H. Carmichael; south coastal Peru by J.E. Buikstra; human sacrifice and trophy heads by J.W. Verano. Observations on rituals among contemporary Bolivians (J.W. Bastien) and Araucanians (T.D. Dillehay), and in colonial documents (F. Solomon), provide comparative data"--Handbook of Latin American Studies, v. 57.

The characterization of Egyptian monasticism as a desert movement arises primarily from the success of certain fourth century literary texts circulated outside of Egypt. Yet recent historical research has demonstrated a whole range of choices for ascetic dwelling in late antique Egypt, where men and women might practice their discipline in households in cities and towns, in abandoned villages, in the outer or inner desert. Archaeological (including papyrological, epigraphical and representational) sources evidence another widely practiced option, which has been surprisingly under-recognized by historians of early Christianity: the reuse of monumental funerary architecture for habitation. In this context, it is crucial to recognize that both Greek oros and Coptic toou can mean not only “mountain” and “desert,” but also “cemetery” and “monastery.” Thus, textual sources can easily mislead historians unaware of the archaeological context of a given “desert” monastery. Using a combination of archaeological sources together with literary texts transmitted through the manuscript tradition, I explore the practical and ideological motivations for monastic occupation of monumental funerary architecture in one geographically circumscribed region--Western Thebes. As the necropolis of ancient Egypt's great southern capital, Western Thebes provides an unparalleled corpus of archaeological material evidencing the establishment of churches, saints' shrines, monasteries and hermitages in adapted pharaonic tombs and mortuary temples. The contents of excavated Greek and Coptic documentary (e.g., legal texts, letters, magical/medical texts) and literary papyri (e.g., saints' Lives) allow multiple points of access to both the physical description and conceptual construction of the ancient Necropolis in Late Antiquity. Texts transmitted through the manuscript tradition record the Lives of saints said to have occupied the region and vividly depict ancient tombs (and their mummified inhabitants). My analysis demonstrates that perceptions might not always be fixed. In texts, the representation of the ancient Necropolis and its ascetic occupants might differ depending on subject, audience, occasion and circumstance. Nevertheless, even in the most “everyday” texts, authors recognized the Necropolis as a place apart from the mundane world; and, I argue, reusing the funerary monuments of the past conferred authority and status upon its Christian residents.

Exploring life, death, and the afterlife in Mesopotamia, Alhena Gadotti and Alexandra Kleinerman examine how life and death experiences continually developed over the course of nearly three millennia of Mesopotamian history. To achieve this, the book follows the life cycle of the people of the Tigris and Euphrates River valleys from 3000 BCE to 300 BCE, from birth, through death, and beyond. This book is the first to interrogate the relationships between living and dying through case studies and primary evidence. Including letters written by both women and men, the book allows readers to enter the minds of the ancients. First, the authors focus on life through topics such as the rituals surrounding birth, marriage, and religion. The authors then examine the common causes of death, the rituals associated with death, and the Mesopotamian views of the netherworld, its gods, and inhabitants. Concepts of gender fluidity, both in life and death, are considered alongside evidence from epigraphic data. Illustrating daily life as a multifaceted subject affected by time, space, location, socioeconomics, and gender, this book creates a window into the conditions and concerns of the Mesopotamian people.

The Andean idea of death differs markedly from the Western view. In the Central Andes, particularly the highlands, death is not conceptually separated from life, nor is it viewed as a permanent state. People, animals, and plants simply transition from a soft, juicy, dynamic life to drier, more lasting states, like dry corn husks or mummified ancestors. Death is seen as an extension of vitality. Living with the Dead in the Andes considers recent research by archaeologists, bioarchaeologists, ethnographers, and ethnohistorians whose work reveals the diversity and complexity of the dead-living interaction. The book’s contributors reap the salient results of this new research to illuminate various conceptions and treatments of the dead: “bad” and “good” dead, mummified and preserved, the body represented by art or effigies, and personhood in material and symbolic terms. Death does not end or erase the emotional bonds established in life, and a comprehensive understanding of death requires consideration of the corpse, the soul, and the mourners. Lingering sentiment and memory of the departed seems as universal as death itself, yet often it is economic, social, and political agendas that influence the interactions between the dead and the living. Nine chapters written by scholars from diverse countries and fields offer data-rich case studies and innovative methodologies and approaches. Chapters include discussions on the archaeology of memory, archaeothanatology (analysis of the transformation of the entire corpse and associated remains), a historical analysis of postmortem ritual activities, and ethnosemantic-iconographic analysis of the living-dead relationship. This insightful book focuses on the broader concerns of life and death.

Publisher Description

Scholars have recently achieved new insights into the many ways in which the dead and the living interacted from the Late Preclassic to the Conquest in Mesoamerica. The eight essays in this useful volume were written by well-known scholars who offer cross-disciplinary and synergistic insights into the varied articulations between the dead and those who survived them. From physically opening the tomb of their ancestors and carrying out ancestral heirlooms to periodic feasts, sacrifices, and other lavish ceremonies, heirs revisited death on a regular basis. The activities attributable to the dead, moreover, range from passively defining territorial boundaries to more active exploits, such as “dancing” at weddings and “witnessing” royal accessions. The dead were—and continued to be—a vital part of everyday life in Mesoamerican cultures. This book results from a symposium organized by the editors for an annual meeting of the Society for American Archaeology. The contributors employ historical sources, comparative art history, anthropology, and sociology, as well as archaeology and anthropology, to uncover surprising commonalities across cultures, including the manner in which the dead were politicized, the perceptions of reciprocity between the dead and the living, and the ways that the dead were used by the living to create, define, and renew social as well as family ties. In exploring larger issues of a “good death” and the transition from death to ancestry, the contributors demonstrate that across Mesoamerica death was almost never accompanied by the extinction of a persona; it was more often the beginning of a social process than a conclusion.

Presents evidence to support the author's woman-centered interpretation of prehistoric civilizations, considering the prehistoric goddesses, gods and religion, and discussing the living goddesses--deities which have continued to be venerated through the modern era.

In 1992, a preventable explosion at the Westray Mine in Plymouth, Nova Scotia, killed twenty-six miners. More than a decade later, the government enacted Bill C-45, commonly known as the Westray bill, to hold organizations criminally liable for seriously injuring and killing workers and the public. In Still Dying for a Living, Steven Bittle turns a critical eye on the Westray bill, revealing how legal, economic, and cultural discourses surrounding the bill downplayed the seriousness of workplace injury and death, effectively characterizing these crimes as regrettable but largely unavoidable accidents and in the process obscuring their underlying causes.