Hostname: page-component-586b7cd67f-rdxmf Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2024-11-25T15:38:10.510Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false

Beyond Tools and Function: The Selection of Materials and the Ontology of Hunter-Gatherers. Ethnographic Evidences and Implications for Palaeolithic Archaeology

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  05 February 2021

Ella Assaf
Affiliation:
Department of Archaeology Tel Aviv University 55 Haim Levanon St Tel Aviv 69978 Israel Email: [email protected]
Francesca Romagnoli
Affiliation:
Departamento de Prehistoria y Arqueología Universidad Autónoma de Madrid Ciudad Universitaria de Cantoblanco 28049MadridSpain Email: [email protected]
Rights & Permissions [Opens in a new window]

Abstract

In this paper we discuss the universal selection of exceptional materials for tool making in prehistory. The interpretation suggested in the literature for these non-standard materials is usually limited to a general statement, considering possible aesthetic values or a general, mostly unexplained, symbolic meaning. We discuss the implications of viewing these materials as active agents and living vital beings in Palaeolithic archaeology as attested in indigenous hunter-gatherer communities all around the world. We suggest that the use of specific materials in the Palaeolithic was meaningful, and beyond its possible ‘symbolic’ meaning, it reflects deep familiarity and complex relations of early humans with the world surrounding them—humans and other-than-human persons (animals, plants, water and stones)—on which they were dependent. We discuss the perception of tools and the materials from which they are made as reflecting relationships, respectful behaviour and functionality from an ontological point of view. In this spirit, we suggest re-viewing materials as reflecting social, cosmological and ontological world-views of Palaeolithic humans, and looking beyond their economic, functional aspects, as did, perhaps, our ancestors themselves.

Type
Special Section: When Materials Speak about Ontology: A Hunter-Gatherer Perspective
Creative Commons
Creative Common License - CCCreative Common License - BY
This is an Open Access article, distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution licence (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits unrestricted re-use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.
Copyright
Copyright © The Author(s), 2021. Published by Cambridge University Press on behalf of the McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research

Introduction

The earliest production and use of stone tools more than three million years ago was, no doubt, a turning point in the history of humankind, considered by some scholars to be one of the defining characteristics of the genus Homo, setting humans apart (e.g. Man the Toolmaker, Oakley Reference Oakley1944; Holloway Reference Holloway1969; Premack Reference Premack2010, although this approach is less acceptable nowadays). One might consider this dichotomous human–animal perspective on tools as an anthropocentric, western and colonial one (Harris & Cipolla Reference Harris2017). In contemporary indigenous societies, rather than being a dividing element between humans and other elements of the world, tools are perceived as a bridge, connecting all of them. In this light, various elements related to the making process of these tools—including the selection of materials from which they are made—reflect the relations between these elements. Can we speculate that similar perceptions were shared by humans in the distant past?

This introductory paper is part of a special section addressing the universal phenomenon of human selection of exceptional materials for tool making and its possible socio-cultural, cosmological implications. The first part of this article will briefly describe the main theme of this section and this paper, its theoretical framework and the implications for prehistoric archaeology. The second part will explore one line of thinking suggested for interpreting this phenomenon: the relational-ontology approach. Here, we will discuss the possible application of this view to Lower Palaeolithic findings, and with regard to material selection for handaxe making in particular, as a test case. Finally, we will briefly present the case studies included in this thematic section and conclude with some thoughts that could guide further attempts to enlarge our understanding of archaeological hunter-gatherer societies, including the way in which they built their cosmological word and interacted with it.

Human selection of exceptional materials: considering socio-cultural, cosmological aspects

For more than three million years, humans have been selecting, collecting and transporting various materials, mostly stones and minerals but also animal bones and shells, for the production of tools. This seemingly basic activity is far from being trivial, and it raises questions concerning the mode of adaptation, cost-benefit considerations and choices made by early humans (Beck et al. Reference Beck, Taylor, Jones, Fadem, Cook and Millward2002; Brantingham Reference Brantingham2003; Dibble Reference Dibble, Montet-White and Holen1991; Wilson Reference Wilson2007). Many studies emphasize techno-economic considerations, such as the quality, size, availability and abundance of knapping materials as well as location of outcrops on the displacement to foraging, as leading reasons for selection, transportation and use of knapping materials (Braun et al. Reference Braun, Plummer, Ferra, Ditchfield and Bishop2009; Browne & Wilson Reference Browne and Wilson2011; Shick Reference Shick1987; Stout et al. Reference Stout, Quade, Sema, Rogers and Levin2005). The situation is somewhat different as regards ‘exceptional’ materials, that is, unusual, non-standard materials identified in specific archaeological contexts, such as stones with noticeable aesthetic values, animal bones and shells, as well as materials originating from remote sources. The capacity to differentiate these from the huge amount of other materials makes them more easily identifiable in the archaeological record (even if it is possible that more common materials also have had meanings other than functional, as briefly noted in this paper). These exceptional materials, for the most part, are not overlooked, although the interpretation suggested for their presence is usually limited to a general statement, considering possible aesthetic values or a general, mostly unexplained, symbolic meaning.

Notwithstanding any of these explanations, there might have been other factors which influenced choices of materials, and exceptional materials particularly, relating to the socio-cultural world of early humans and their ontological-cosmological worldviews. But is it possible for us to comprehend, in general, this role of ‘material culture’ in the socio-cultural realms and in the ontology of ancient humans? The relationship between humans and materiality has recently attracted much theoretical interest in archaeology and various other disciplines (e.g. Bell & Spikins Reference Bell and Spikins2018; Herva Reference Herva2009; Ingold Reference Ingold2000; Knappett Reference Knappett2002), but these issues remain under-explored in prehistoric archaeology. The contributions of this section, as well as this paper, attempt to address some of these issues.

Looking at the overview of ethnographic and anthropological hunter-gatherer case studies presented, and keeping in mind the archaeological evidence suggesting that past humans most probably had social and cognitive behaviours more complex than was thought a few years ago (here we only discuss a small number of these cases, but the recent scientific Palaeolithic literature is increasingly abundant), we cannot exclude that a different perception of artefacts was most probably present in the Palaeolithic period. Possibly, material cultural was produced not only for meeting functional needs, but it was a way to reflect and form relationships between a group and another group, a human and another human or other-than-human person and between a human and the landscape. How can we enlarge our understanding of prehistory through the notion that cultural material constituted a significant part of the ontology and cosmology of early human communities?

In this paper, we explore one line of thinking suggested for interpreting this phenomenon: the relational-ontology approach. We discuss the implications of viewing exceptional materials selected for tool making as active agents and living vital beings in Palaeolithic archaeology as attested in indigenous hunter-gatherer communities worldwide.

The relational-ontology view and the archaeological record

Ethnographic and archaeological literature suggests that present and past hunter-gatherers are constantly engaged in establishing and maintaining social relations between human group members and other-than-human persons (Betts et al. Reference Betts, Hardenberg and Stirling2015; Bird-David Reference Bird-David1999; Hill Reference Hill2011; Naveh & Bird-David Reference Naveh2014; Viveiros de Castro Reference de Castro1998), designated to ensure that current ways of life will be sustained (Barkai Reference Barkai, Lavi and Friesem2019; Tanner Reference Tanner1979). Beyond the functional aspect, producing and using tools is one way to maintain relations between the different elements of the world, as they reflect perceptions transmitted over generations regarding the relations of humans with other-than-human persons. Tools are also active agents, means of interaction with various elements in the world and a way to form and keep relationships with them (Hill Reference Hill2011; Reference Hill, Harrison-Buck and Hendon2018; McNiven Reference McNiven, Harrison-Buck and Hendon2018). Following this approach, it is probable that the process of making a tool, i.e. selecting the material which the tool will be made of and forming its shape, is of great importance to indigenous societies and their relationships with the world.

A world of relations

The perception of tools and the materials from which they are made as mediators, reflecting relationships and as means of interactions, is part of a much wider world-view of contemporary indigenous groups, including hunter-gatherer societies (such as the Indian Nayaka, the Canadian Ojibwa, the Inuit and various societies of the Arctic, Subarctic and Amazonia). In these societies, the world is perceived as composed of living human and other-than-human persons or agents (e.g. Betts et al. Reference Betts, Hardenberg and Stirling2015; Bird-David Reference Bird-David1999; Harrison-Buck & Hendon Reference Harrison-Buck and Hendon2018; Hill Reference Hill2011; Nadasdy Reference Nadasdy2007; Viveiros de Castro Reference de Castro1998) for whom life is an ‘ongoing creation’ (Ingold Reference Ingold2000; Reference Ingold2006). They are capable of thinking, feeling and behaving in ways that resemble or mirror human thought and behaviour and have the capacity to affect human health and well-being (Hill Reference Hill2011).

The Nayaka and the Ojibwa, for example, communicate with and approach forest trees, hills, stones and animals as persons. These are treated as social partners or spiritual guides under certain circumstances (Bower Reference Bower1999; Naveh & Bird-David Reference Naveh2014). Tanner (Reference Tanner1979, 202) indicates that for the subarctic Mistissini Inuu ‘A central attribute in the conduct of hunting is that game animals are persons and that they must be respected’. These ontologies differ in many ways from the Western belief system, which often conceptualizes animals, plants and stones as resources to manipulate, use and consume (Hill Reference Hill2011), and mainly as ‘others’—a distinction claimed not to have been made by present and past hunter-gatherers.

Therefore, at the heart of this ‘archaeology of ontology’ approach (Alberti Reference Alberti2016) lies the perception of relation-based interactions between humans and other-than-human persons. Engaging and forming reciprocal relations such as these is considered to be vital, and it is practised in everyday life by all persons of the group (Harrison-Buck & Hendon Reference Harrison-Buck and Hendon2018). Hill (Reference Hill2011) suggests that prehistoric hunters in the Arctic treated animals as agential persons, involved in social practices intended to facilitate hunting success and avoid offending prey. Their thoughts and actions established and maintained relationships with prey animals as a dynamic social behaviour embedded within the context of daily life. The Nayaka form their own personhood by maintaining sharing relationships with surrounding beings, humans and others. They do not dichotomize other beings to themselves (see Bird-David Reference Bird-David1999) but regard them, while differentiated, as intertwined. This pattern of relationship is vital to the Nayaka collective identity as well as to what may be explained as personhood (Bird-David Reference Bird-David1999). Relational personhood can be described as ‘a community of people only some of whom are human’ (Harvey Reference Harvey2006, 82; see also Bird-David Reference Bird-David1999; Ingold Reference Ingold2000; Reference Ingold2006). Indeed, not all other-than-human elements are ‘persons’; they must display, like humans, the capacity to ‘be with others, share a place with them, and responsibly engage with them’ (Bird-David Reference Bird-David2006, 43). This idea is embodied in the very concept of a ‘person’ as a component of a relation-system (Bird-David Reference Bird-David1999). Relational ontology, then, blurs the boundary between organism and its environment and rejects the subject–object dualism (Herva Reference Herva2009; Ingold Reference Ingold2006; Järvilehto Reference Järvilehto1998).

Objects as living vital beings

The notion of objects as agents has become an important theoretical component in anthropology (Hendon Reference Hendon, Harrison-Buck and Hendon2017), perhaps since these elements have an emotional effect on people, providing a sense of comfort and security (Bell & Spikins Reference Bell and Spikins2018). When we engage with material things, those things become part of our perceptual–behavioural–cognitive capacities (Bell & Spikins Reference Bell and Spikins2018; Herva Reference Herva2009), and presumably, were so in the past. Looking at objects as ‘object-persons’ (Alberti & Bray Reference Alberti and Bray2009; Zedeño Reference Zedeño2008; Reference Zedeño and Watts2014), having the ‘power to shape human behaviour and influence change’ (Zedeño Reference Zedeño and Watts2014, 121; see also Brown & Walker Reference Brown and Walker2008) and by way of a relational thinking enables us to focus on overlooked aspects of material culture and reassess the significance of both everyday and special features of archaeological material (Herva Reference Herva2009).

Similarly to animals, materials used in everyday life, such as stones, are not perceived by recent indigenous societies (including hunter-gatherer groups) as passive objects destined to be exploited for economic benefit (Conneller Reference Conneller2012). Rather, they are considered as part of the cosmos, playing an active role in the social, cosmological and epistemological realms of life. In the circumpolar north, personhood was not limited to humans and animals, but also applied to certain objects: the term ‘awareness’ (Central Yup'ik ella) is used to describe the Yup'ik conception that objects are sensible and agential (Hill Reference Hill2011). Among the Nayaka, ‘Rocks and stones were and sometimes still are personified as and when engaging with them’ (Naveh & Bird-David Reference Naveh2014, 84). In certain Native American contexts, stones can converse with humans (Harris & Cipolla Reference Harris2017). It seems that in many of these societies, the role of each thing in the social network is more significant than the thing itself, on its own. Of course, ‘objects’ is a general term, while each object, material and tool may have its own specific relationship and role in the ontology of each human group.

The role of tools as agents/living beings

Recent studies reconsider technology as a two-way process effecting, in a similar way, both people and what are considered as materials, reflecting the embodiment of values and beliefs transmitted over generations (Arthur Reference Arthur2018; Hendon Reference Hendon, Harrison-Buck and Hendon2017; Hollenback & Schiffer Reference Hollenback, Schiffer, Hicks and Beaudry2010; Ingold Reference Ingold2000). Technology is reframed as ‘a set of relationships between people and between people and the materials with which they work’ (Hendon Reference Hendon, Harrison-Buck and Hendon2017, 155). Therefore, despite the greater focus on human–animal relations in the ethnographic and archaeological literature, the personhood and relations embodied in tools is gaining increased interest. Tools are made and used by humans for procuring, processing and consuming other-than-human persons (animals, stones, plants and so on). Therefore, by virtue of the persistent use of these tools, traditions embodying the relations with these elements are being created and preserved, as the present is maintained, and the future is being secured. Tools may thus reflect a dialogue between human or other-than-human person, but also as capable living beings. Among the Arctic Inuit groups, every element of the natural world has an Inua—an essence or a spirit—including objects and tools (Fitzhugh & Kaplan Reference Fitzhugh and Kaplan1982). The concept of Inua in daily life was used in hunting through hunting tools, as a way of communicating with the prey and with the aim of pleasing the animals and demonstrating respectful behaviour, in order to guarantee success. The functionality of hunting tools was dependent on the material and design, among other things. McNiven (Reference McNiven, Harrison-Buck and Hendon2018) also describes Melanesian Torres Strait canoes (ad 1400–1850) as ‘object-beings’ designated to facilitate socially and culturally desirable engagements with the marine realm. Among the Gamo of Ethiopia, stones and stone tools are perceived as living beings that have life-cycles from birth to death, similar to humans (Arthur Reference Arthur2018).

What about the materials from which tools were made, as reflecting relationships, respectful behaviour and functionality from an ontological point of view? Previous studies suggested that tools could attest, besides their functionality, to the aesthetic and symbolic conventions of past human societies, reflected, inter alia, in the choice of materials from which they were made (Boivin et al. Reference Boivin, Brumm, Lewis, Robinson and Korisettar2007; Brumm Reference Brumm2010; Duff et al. Reference Duff, Clark and Chadderdon1992; Graves-Brown Reference Graves-Brown1995). Features such as texture, shimmer, colour and susceptibility to polish are inseparable characteristics of materials, which cannot be ignored. The remoteness of time tends to preclude non-technological considerations; therefore, lithic studies are mostly conceived in techno-typological and economic terms, creating a most probably false distinction between objects and their meanings (Graves-Brown Reference Graves-Brown1995; Taçon Reference Taçon1991). Ethnographic and ethno-historic studies describe how aesthetic, cultural and ontological aspects are embodied in the production process and use of various artefacts (Duff et al. Reference Duff, Clark and Chadderdon1992; González-Ruibal et al. Reference González-Ruibal, Hernando and Politis2011; Jones & Bradley in Gage Reference Gage1999). Few studies, though, discuss their possible role in the ontology as reflecting relations (see Arthur Reference Arthur2018; Hill Reference Hill2011).

Hill (Reference Hill2019) discusses watercraft of the western Arctic coast as ‘hybrid assemblages of materials that were themselves implicated in relational networks’. The construction and maintenance of watercraft, from this perspective, was a complex social process connecting humans, animals and materials such as driftwood and sealskins with their own agential properties. Many forms of stone tool produced over the past 6000 years in Australia, for example, are said to reflect ontological aspects. The Aborigines of the Western Desert have a special category for stones with distinctive colour, shape or texture, such as quartz crystals, mica and oddly shaped bits of agate. Several quartzite shelter sites were used as quarries; the material was believed to be the petrified remains of the bones of certain ancestral beings (Taçon Reference Taçon1991). Certain types of colourful stones were chosen to make the most significant stone tools, such as quartzite blades and axe heads or other tools made from banded colourful chert, which was considered to be the most powerful. Rainbow motifs form a significant part of the ontology of these groups and accordingly chert with rainbow patterns was chosen specifically for tool making (Taçon Reference Taçon2008). However, beyond the aesthetic properties of specific materials, the location or the source from which the material is brought is often of great ontological importance on its own. Studies show that particular quarried stone outcrops were preferred over those of identical or equivalent quality as the focus for intensive axe production and long-distance exchange—the Mt William greenstone axe quarry in Australia, for example (Brumm Reference Brumm2010). According to the ontology of the indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest, large volcanic peaks are the home of powerful beings and unique materials such as obsidian, selected specifically for the production of artefacts. These artefacts, then, embody the ontology of the landscape from which they were procured (Reimer Reference Reimer2018).

What can we say, in light of these examples, about the likelihood of the universal phenomenon of selecting exceptional materials in the Palaeolithic? Can we apply the relational view to Palaeolithic objects, and thereby deepen our understanding of the inter-reliance of early humans, tools, minerals, plants and animals?

The selection of exceptional materials during the Palaeolithic: the handaxe as a test case

The presence of various Palaeolithic artefacts made of particular, sometimes exceptional materials might demonstrate the relational-ontological perception as means of interaction with different elements of the world. Archaeological evidence shows that, as early as the Lower and Middle Palaeolithic, humans had specifically selected certain exceptional materials and brought them to the habitation site for non-economic reasons. Fossils, quartz crystals, ochre, colorful stones and other minerals were discovered as single finds in occupation levels of various sites in Eurasia and Africa and could be included in this evidence (Assaf Reference Assaf2018; Beaumont & Vogel Reference Beaumont and Vogel2006; Edwards Reference Edwards1978; Goren-Inbar et al. Reference Goren-Inbar, Lewy and Kislev1991; Moncel Reference Moncel, Chiotti, Gaillard, Onoratini and Pleurdeau2012). Moreover, there is indication of the selection of exceptional materials from a range of suitable sources in order to produce tools, reflecting profound knowledge and great effort invested in acquiring these materials as early as the Lower Palaeolithic period (e.g. Agam & Zupancich Reference Agam and Zupancich2020; Bar-Yosef & Goren-Inbar Reference Bar-Yosef and Goren-Inbar1993; Belfer-Cohen & Goren-Inbar Reference Belfer-Cohen and Goren-Inbar1994; Ekshtain et al. Reference Ekshtain, Malinsky-Buller, Ilani, Segal and Hovers2014; Stout et al. Reference Stout, Quade, Sema, Rogers and Levin2005). At the site of Ubeidiya, Israel, dated to c. 1.4 million years ago, core-choppers tend to be made of flint, sub-spheroids of limestone and bifacial tools of basalt (Bar-Yosef & Goren-Inbar Reference Bar-Yosef and Goren-Inbar1993, 111; Belfer-Cohen & Goren-Inbar Reference Belfer-Cohen and Goren-Inbar1994). A correlation was also detected at Gesher Benot Ya'aqov (Saragusti & Goren-Inbar Reference Saragusti and Goren-Inbar2001), where basalt was clearly preferred for the production of bifacial tools, flint for the manufacture of flakes and flake tools, and limestone for the production of chopping tools. This selectivity in the Acheulian does not seem to be related to the availability of these materials in the surroundings of the sites (Belfer-Cohen & Goren-Inbar Reference Belfer-Cohen and Goren-Inbar1994). In the absence of systematic use-wear analysis, we cannot exclude that this diversification of raw material was partially due to functional aspects and to the response and constraints of each resource during specific tasks. At the same time, however, we cannot exclude the existence of complex relationships between raw material, landscape, use and meanings. Selectivity in material selection was also observed in Mousterian sites (Delage Reference Delage1997; Weinstein-Evron et al. Reference Weinstein-Evron, Bar-Oz, Zaidner, Tsatskin, Druck, Porat and Hershkovitz2003), and it was suggested that complex social and cultural considerations affected this behaviour (Ekshtain et al. Reference Ekshtain, Ilani, Segal and Hovers2017).

What about ‘exceptional’ materials? Colourful, bright stones with noticeable aesthetic values (such as obsidian and colourful chert, quartzite and lava) were selected and used for the making of scrapers (e.g. patinated colourful flint: see Efrati, this volume) and points (e.g. colourful burned stones: see Coulson et al. Reference Coulson, Staurset and Walker2011). Specific animal bones were also preferred for the making of specific tools (e.g. bone points from Fa-Hien Lena Cave in Sri Lanka: see Wedage et al. Reference Wedage, Amano and Langley2019). This phenomenon is especially intriguing when it comes to handaxes, the ‘fossil directeur’ of the Lower Palaeolithic period.

While there are some general common features to all handaxes, at least to some extent, these artefacts vary widely in terms of size, shape, applied technology, the type of the selected blank, material type and degree of regularity (Wynn & Gowlett Reference Wynn and Gowlett2018). This variability was attributed to various factors, including raw material availability (see Sharon Reference Sharon2008 with bibliography). It seems, though, that the form of the handaxes was ‘over-determined’, as described by Wynn and Gowlett (Reference Wynn and Gowlett2018)—that is, Acheulian knappers invested more effort in the shaping of the handaxes than was necessary for their functionality—and that additional considerations played a role in their manufacture, including cultural traditions (Wynn & Tierson Reference Wynn and Tierson1990).

A number of studies have demonstrated the selection of specific materials for the making of bifaces (in addition to those mentioned above); the selection of ‘exceptional’ materials is also of note: elephant bones were repeatedly selected for the making of handaxes, as discussed by Barkai in this volume (see also Zutovski & Barkai Reference Zutovski and Barkai2016); obsidian handaxes were found at the Acheulian site of Kariandusi, Kenya (Bourlière & Howell Reference Bourlière and Howell1963, 622) and at Gadeb and Melka-Kunture in Ethiopia (Piperno et al. Reference Piperno, Collina, Gallotti, Hovers and Braun2009). At Middle Pleistocene Sima de los Huesos (Spain), human remains were found alongside a single handaxe, made from a reddish-light brown quartzite—a rock type rarely selected for use at nearby sites. The unique colour of the stone may have been a key reason it was chosen to be deposited with the skeletons (Carbonell & Mosquera Reference Carbonell and Mosquera2006). A handaxe from West Tofts, Norfolk, bears a fossil of a bivalve mollusc shell embedded in the flint. It appears that the fossil played a role in the selection of this particular piece of stone, and the knapper avoided flaking the area that bore the fossil. Similarly, a handaxe was found at Middle Gravels at Swanscombe bearing a ‘shepherd's crown’—a symmetrical fossil embedded in the flint—suggesting it was intended to be the central feature of the tool (Oakley Reference Oakley1981). At the late Acheulian site of Revadim (Israel), a unifacial flint handaxe showing a concentric pattern in its centre was found. We suggest that this pattern was most probably intended to be the central feature of the tool; therefore the item was unifacially rather than bifacially knapped in this case (Fig. 1).

Figure 1. Unifacially knapped handaxe from Revadim, preserving the circular pattern in the centre of the item.

Indeed, these are extraordinary Lower Palaeolithic examples—both in context and material. How can we tell, in light of this, if they reflect a deliberate, meaningful choice? Moreover, how can we understand whether these choices reflect social perceptions rather than individuals’ preferences? First, we argue that the presence of single finds does not exclude a wider social meaning. We consider any human (sapiens as well as pre-sapiens) selection as motivated by a world-view, which is never disconnected from a broader, social context or ontology. The biface is one of the most prominent markers of the Lower Palaeolithic period, which was suggested to reflect both functional and cultural preferences (e.g. Claud Reference Claud2012; Kohn & Mithen Reference Kohn and Mithen1999; Shipton Reference Shipton2013). The significant role of this tool in butchering large animals embodied dietary as well as social significance; its creation became a social norm, a tradition passed down through generations serving as an anchor that enabled the development of innovations in other fields (Finkel & Barkai Reference Finkel and Barkai2018). Although it is argued that the consistent morphology of Acheulian handaxes (not altered by environmental changes) has been genetically transmitted (Corbey et al. Reference Corbey, Jagich, Vaesen and Collard2016), other authors claim that their repeated appearance in archaeological sites worldwide for more than 1.5 million years reflects conformity and high-fidelity cultural transmission processes practised at this early stage of human history (Lycett & Gowlett Reference Lycett and Gowlett2008; Shipton Reference Shipton2010; Tehrani & Riede Reference Tehrani and Riede2008). The question is—can we consider ontological aspects with regard to early Palaeolithic items, and examine them with a relational-ontology view? This certainly raises a number of significant theoretical and methodological challenges and questions currently debated in the archeological and anthropological disciplines.

Socio-cultural aspects related to material selection in the Palaeolithic are usually discussed in a very general way (e.g. ‘the human factors’: see Wilson Reference Wilson2007). Style, for example, has been suggested as a possible explanation for inter- and intra-lithic assemblage variability in prehistory (Mackay Reference Mackay2011), and tools made of ‘exceptional’ materials are usually attributed to some kind of symbolic activity. Ontological-cosmological aspects, however, are rarely included under the ‘socio-cultural umbrella’. One of the greatest obstacles, in terms of research, is the attempt to isolate these considerations from economic ones in order to strengthen the argument of their past existence. Indeed, the quality of the materials and functional reasons cannot always be excluded, not even in the case of ‘exceptional’ materials. It is also probable that these ‘economic’ traits might have been part of the considerations behind their selection, but these do not rule out ontological aspects. In fact, it is possible that they might have set the ground for ontological traditions to be formed and established, since anchoring ontologies in the group's narrative is an effective way to transmit valuable knowledge related to the desired, suitable knapping materials for the next generation (see Arthur Reference Arthur2018; Blurton-Jones & Konner Reference Jones, & M, Lee and DeVore1998).

In light of these arguments, we suggest that the selection of specific materials for handaxe production might attest to its important role in the ontology as reflecting the relationships of Lower Palaeolithic humans with various elements of the world (such as large game animals, minerals and landscapes). Taking a wider perspective, archaeological and anthropological evidence (as presented in this paper as well as other contributions in this section) implies that the selection of materials for tool making in prehistory might have been a complex process, involving social, economic, functional and cosmological considerations. As early as the Lower and Middle Palaeolithic, the selection of particular (sometimes exceptional) materials for the making of specific tool categories—such as scrapers, points and handaxes—is of note. These tools were well embodied in the cultural traditions of ancient humans; therefore, this selection of specific materials for their production may reflect ontological world-views of those who produced and used them and their social group. We thus argue that ontological-cosmological considerations should be included when discussing lithic-related behaviours practised by ancient humans.

The thematic section: ‘When materials speak about ontology: a hunter-gatherer perspective’

In this section, born of a meeting and stimulating collective discussions, we address some of the issues discussed above while focusing on human selection, collection and use of exceptional materials for tool making while combining a critical use of archaeological and anthropological viewpoints. The papers address the modalities of human selection and modification of these materials and their possible role in the culture and ontology of early humans.

The broad relevance of the questions addressed to archaeology of hunter-gatherers is indicated by the geographic and temporal reach of the case studies presented. These range from the Lower Palaeolithic in the Old World through the Australian Pleistocene and Holocene to historic, Ethiopian societies. The diverse set of case studies will be discussed by contributors coming from different backgrounds and approaches, attempting to deal with the universal phenomenon of selecting and modifying exceptional materials. Some contributors agree that this phenomenon might reflect shared perspectives of early humans towards the different elements of the world they lived in—humans (Efrati, this volume) and other-than-human persons: animals (Barkai, Romagnoli, Freeman et al., this volume); plants and stones (Arthur, Romagnoli, this volume)—on which humans were dependent and interacted. Others question whether we can overcome the problem of geographic and temporal gaps and successfully interpret it (Hiscock, this volume).

The papers look at the materials of which objects were made as a significant part of the perceptual world of early humans that could have had a specific meaning, beyond the functional and economic advantages. Since ancient prehistory, selected materials could reflect a rich variety of complex relationships of human beings with the world surrounding them and on which they were dependent (Barkai, this volume). The tools made of these materials reflect a social discourse between the sender and the receiver (Hiscock, this volume), signalling towards different elements of the natural world, human and other-than-human alike. The selection of specific bones/minerals could be a way to communicate ideas; part of the process of becoming familiar with a landscape and interacting with it (Efrati, Freeman, Romagnoli, this volume), a way of guaranteeing that any procurement strategy will be successful, and also a way to preserve concepts, including useful information and knowledge passed down throughout the generations (e.g. relating to the qualities of a specific material, for example: see Arthur, this volume).

Exceptional materials as reflecting relations: some theoretical and methodological concluding thoughts

The universal phenomenon of human selection of exceptional materials for toolmaking, discussed in this and the following contributions, raises a number of significant theoretical and methodological questions.

The main obstacle in dealing with this issue stems from the fact that most Western scholars assume that early humans—especially pre-sapiens—were motivated primarily (as a default) by economic, cost-benefit considerations rather than ontological-cosmological ones. Furthermore, all concerns about ontological-cosmological meanings in past communities stay in the sphere of assumptions and ideas. They can be supported by philosophical, ethnographic and anthropological arguments, but their scientific demonstration is challenging; some authors are reluctant with this limitation. These aspects, however, have shown to be inseparable, even today; the distinction between technology, economy and other aspects of society is artificial and does not allow us to appreciate fully the perspectives of the people we are studying (Hendon Reference Hendon, Harrison-Buck and Hendon2017), and deeply explore their perceptions and relations towards different elements of the world surrounding them. The aim of the archaeological discipline is to study past humans and their lifestyles. The functional-economic and the ontological-cosmological meanings and needs are both part of human life.

Clearly, the direct and immediate application of ethnographic analogy to make inferences about early humans should be made cautiously. However, the fact that indigenous societies around the globe share similar relational-based ontologies (while their essence can be culturally and socio-economically dependent and varied) should be considered. The theoretical background and archaeological–anthropological evidence presented in this paper (and in this section in general) lays the ground for examining prehistoric lithic items in this perspective.

We suggest that the use of specific materials in the Palaeolithic was meaningful, and beyond its possible ‘symbolic’ meaning; it reflects deep familiarity and complex relations of early humans with the world surrounding them—hills, animals, plants, stones, water—on which they were dependent, as well as other humans. Materials and objects might have been perceived as active agents, living vital beings, charged with social and emotional meanings. Both objects and their meanings were sometimes passed down over many generations. The continuous production of tools with specific and/or exceptional materials, sometimes for hundreds of thousands of years, as evidenced in the Palaeolithic record, might reflect such an idea.

Being an inseparable part of the landscape and of sharing daily life, stones, animals and plants must have had a special significance in the world of prehistoric humans, possibly acting in the cosmological realm (e.g. Conneller Reference Conneller2012, 76–102)—by which we refer not only to exceptional materials (which are the main focus here, since they are easier to engage in the framework of this theoretical interpretation), but to all materials. Relations with the world are expressed in every aspect of life and material culture, in past and present human groups. Tools made of these materials were also used for processing some of them, thereby creating a circle, or a meshwork of relations between humans and these elements. Each of these artefacts found in an archaeological site is thus far from being an ‘inanimate’, lifeless object. Rather, it embodies the cultural conventions and ontology of the person who selected the material from the landscape, collected it and finally formed its shape. Indeed, the identification of these holistic cosmological aspects in past material culture studies is challenging. However, we believe that a better knowledge of indigenous hunter-gatherer cosmology and ontology may improve the archaeological interpretation of Palaeolithic communities and of past cultural material. After all, as archaeologists interested in understanding past human behaviours, we cannot exclude that the tendency to look beyond the function of a tool is a universal human trait. As scientists, we must make the effort to look beyond the function of tools—as did, perhaps, our ancestors.

Acknowledgements

E.A. is grateful to the Azrieli Foundation for the award of an Azrieli Fellowship. F.R. was supported by the project ref.: SI1-PJI-2019-00488 founded by The Comunidad Autónoma de Madrid and the Universidad Autónoma de Madrid. We thank Pavel Shrago for the figure. We are thankful to the Editor and two anonymous reviewers for they comments on a previous version of this paper; they allowed us to improve the text.

References

Agam, A. & Zupancich, A., 2020. Interpreting the Quina and demi-Quina scrapers from Acheulo-Yabrudian Qesem Cave, Israel: results of raw materials and functional analyses. Journal of Human Evolution 144, 102798.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Alberti, B., 2016. Archaeologies of ontology. Annual Review of Anthropology 45, 163–79.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Alberti, B. & Bray, T., 2009. Introduction, Animating Archaeology: of subjects, objects and alternative ontologies. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 19(3), 337.Google Scholar
Arthur, K.W., 2018. The Lives of Stone Tools: Crafting the status, skill, and identity of flintknappers. Tucson (AZ): University of Arizona Press.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Assaf, E., 2018. Paleolithic aesthetics: collecting colorful flint pebbles at Middle Pleistocene Qesem Cave, Israel. Journal of Lithic Studies 5(1). https://doi.org/10.2218/jls.2616CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Barkai, R., 2019. An elephant to share: rethinking the origins of meat and fat sharing in Paleolithic societies, in Towards a Broader View of Hunter Gatherer Sharing, eds Lavi, N. & Friesem, D.E.. Cambridge: McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research, 153–67.Google Scholar
Bar-Yosef, O. & Goren-Inbar, N., 1993. The lithic assemblages of the site of Ubeidiya, Jordan Valley, Jerusalem. Qedem 34.Google Scholar
Beaumont, P.B. & Vogel, J.C., 2006. On a timescale for the past million years of human history in central South Africa. South African Journal of Science 102, 217–28.Google Scholar
Beck, C., Taylor, A.K., Jones, G.T., Fadem, C.M., Cook, C.R. & Millward, S.A., 2002. Rocks are heavy: transport costs and Paleoarchaic quarry behavior in the Great Basin. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 21(4), 481507.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Belfer-Cohen, A. & Goren-Inbar, N., 1994. Cognition and communication in the Levantine Lower Palaeolithic. World Archaeology 26(2), 144–57.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Bell, T. & Spikins, P., 2018. The object of my affection: attachment security and material culture. Time and Mind 11(1), 2339.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Betts, M.W., Hardenberg, M. & Stirling, I., 2015. How animals create human history: relational ecology and the Dorset–polar bear connection. American Antiquity 80(1), 89112.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Bird-David, N., 1999. ‘Animism’ revisited: personhood, environment, and relational epistemology. Current Anthropology 40(S1), S67S91.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Bird-David, N., 2006. Animistic epistemology: why do some hunter-gatherers not depict animals? Ethnos 71(1), 3350.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Jones, Blurton, & M, N.. Konner, 1998. !Kung knowledge of animal behavior, in Kalahari Hunter-gatherers: Studies of the !Kung San and their neighbors, eds Lee, R.B. & DeVore, I.. Cambridge (MA): Harvard University Press, 325–49.Google Scholar
Boivin, N., Brumm, A., Lewis, H., Robinson, D. & Korisettar, R., 2007. Sensual, material, and technological understanding: exploring prehistoric soundscapes in south India. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S .) 13, 267–94.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Bourlière, F. & Howell, C.F. (eds), 1963. African Ecology and Human Evolution. Chicago (IL): Aldine.Google Scholar
Bower, B., 1999. When stones come to life. Science News 155(23), 360–62.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Brantingham, P.J., 2003. A neutral model of stone raw material procurement. American Antiquity 68(3), 487509.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Braun, D.R., Plummer, T., Ferra, J.V., Ditchfield, P. & Bishop, L.C., 2009. Raw material quality and Oldowan hominin tool stone preferences: evidence from Kanjera South, Kenya. Journal of Archaeological Science 36(7), 1604–5.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Brown, L.A. & Walker, W.H., 2008. Prologue: archaeology,animism and non-human agents. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 15(4), 297–9.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Browne, C.L. & Wilson, L., 2011, Resource selection of lithic raw materials in the Middle Palaeolithic in southern France. Journal of Human Evolution 61, 597608.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Brumm, A., 2010. ‘The falling sky’: symbolic and cosmological associations of the Mt Williams greenstone axe quarry, central Victoria, Australia. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 20(2), 179–96.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Carbonell, E. & Mosquera, M., 2006. The emergence of a symbolic behaviour: the sepulchral pit of Sima de los Huesos, Sierra de Atapuerca, Burgos, Spain. Comptes Rendues Palevol 5(1–2), 155–60.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Claud, E., 2012. Les bifaces: des outils polyfonctionnels? Étude tracéologique intégrée de bifaces du Paléolithique moyen récent du Sud-Ouest de la France [Bifaces: multifunctional tools? Integrated traceological study of later Middle Palaeolithic bifaces in southwest France]. Bulletin de la Société préhistorique française 109(3), 413–39.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Conneller, C., 2012. An Archaeology of Materials: Substantial transformations in early prehistoric Europe. London: Routledge.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Corbey, R., Jagich, A., Vaesen, K. & Collard, M., 2016. The Acheulean handaxe: more like a bird's song than a Beatles’ tune? Evolutionary Anthropology: Issues, News, and Reviews 25(1), 619.Google Scholar
Coulson, S., Staurset, S. & Walker, N., 2011. Ritualized behavior in the middle stone age: evidence from Rhino Cave, Tsodilo Hills, Botswana. PaleoAnthropology 2011, 1861.Google Scholar
Delage, C., 1997. Chert procurement and management. during the prehistory of northern Israel. Bulletin du Centre de Recherche français à Jérusalem 1, 53–8.Google Scholar
Dibble, H.L., 1991, Local raw material exploitation and its effects on Lower and Middle Paleolithic assemblage variability, in Raw Material Economies among Prehistoric Hunter-Gatherers, eds Montet-White, A. & Holen, S.. (KU Publications in Anthropology 19.) Lawrence (KS): Kansas: University of Kansas, 3347.Google Scholar
Duff, A.I., Clark, G.A. & Chadderdon, T.J., 1992. Symbolism in the early Palaeolithic: a conceptual odyssey. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 2(2), 211–29.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Edwards, S.W., 1978. Nonutilitarian activities in the Lower Paleolithic: a look at the two kinds of evidence. Current Anthropology 19(1), 135–7.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Ekshtain, R., Malinsky-Buller, A., Ilani, S., Segal, I. & Hovers, E., 2014. Raw material exploitation around the Middle Paleolithic site of ‘Ein Qashish. Quaternary International 331, 248–66.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Ekshtain, R., Ilani, S., Segal, I. & Hovers, E., 2017. Local and nonlocal procurement of raw material in Amud Cave, Israel: the complex mobility of late Middle Paleolithic groups. Geoarchaeology 32(2), 189214.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Finkel, M. & Barkai, R., 2018. The Acheulean handaxe technological persistence: a case of preferred cultural conservatism? Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society 84, 119.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Fitzhugh, W.W. & Kaplan, S., 1982. Inua: Spirit world of the Bering Sea Eskimo. Washington (DC): Smithsonian Institution.Google Scholar
Gage, J., 1999. What meaning had colour in early societies? Cambridge Archaeological Journal 9, 109–26.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
González-Ruibal, A., Hernando, A. & Politis, G., 2011. Ontology of the self and material culture: arrow-making among the Awá hunter–gatherers (Brazil). Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 30(1), 116.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Goren-Inbar, N., Lewy, Z. & Kislev, M.E., 1991. The taphonomy of a Jurassic bead-like fossil from an Acheulian occupation at Gesher Benot Ya'aqov (Jordan Valley, Israel). Rock Art Research 8(2), 133–6.Google Scholar
Graves-Brown, P.M., 1995. Fearful symmetry. World Archaeology 27(1), 8899.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Harris, O.J. & C. Cipolla (eds), 2017. Archaeological Theory in the New Millennium: Introducing current perspectives. London: Routledge.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Harrison-Buck, E. & Hendon, J.A. (eds), 2018. Relational Identities and Other-Than-Human Agency in Archaeology. Boulder (CO): University Press of Colorado.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Harvey, G., 2006. Animism: Respecting the living world. New York (NY): Columbia.Google Scholar
Hendon, J.A., 2017. Can tools have soul? Maya views on the relations between human and other-than-human persons, in Relational Identities and Other-Than-Human Agency in Archaeology, eds Harrison-Buck, E. & Hendon, J.A.. Boulder (CO): University Press of Colorado, 147–66.Google Scholar
Herva, V.P., 2009. Living (with) things: relational ontology and material culture in early modern northern Finland. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 19(3), 388–97.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Hill, E., 2011. Animals as agents: hunting ritual and relational ontologies in prehistoric Alaska and Chukotka. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 21(3), 407–26.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Hill, E., 2018. Personhood and agency in Eskimo interactions with the Other-than-human, in Relational Identities and Other-Than-Human Agency in Archaeology, eds Harrison-Buck, E. & Hendon, J.A.. Boulder (CO): University Press of Colorado, 2951.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Hill, E., 2019. Watercraft as Hybrid Assemblages in the Western Arctic. Paper presented at SpiriTool workshop, Copenhagen 2019.Google Scholar
Hollenback, K.L. & Schiffer, M.B., 2010. Technology and material life. The Oxford Handbook of Material Culture Studies, eds Hicks, D. & Beaudry, M.C.. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 313–32.Google Scholar
Holloway, R.L. Jr, 1969. Culture: a human domain. Current Anthropology 10(4,2), 395412.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Ingold, T., 2000. The Perception of the Environment: Essays on livelihood, dwelling and skill. London: Routledge.Google Scholar
Ingold, T., 2006. Rethinking the animate, re-animating thought. Ethnos 71(1), 920.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Järvilehto, T., 1998. The theory of the organism-environment system, part I: description of the theory. Integrative Physiological and Behavioral Science 33(4), 321–34.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Knappett, C., 2002. Photographs, skeuomorphs and marionettes: some thoughts on mind, agency and object. Journal of Material Culture 7(1), 97117.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kohn, M. Mithen, S., 1999. Handaxes: products of sexual selection? Antiquity 73, 518–26.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Lycett, S.J. & Gowlett, J.A., 2008. On questions surrounding the Acheulean ‘tradition’. World Archaeology 40(3), 295315.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Mackay, A., 2011. Potentially stylistic differences between backed artefacts from two nearby sites occupied ~60,000 years before present in South Africa. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 30(2), 235–45.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
McNiven, I.J., 2018. Torres Strait canoes as social and predatory object-beings, in Relational Identities and Other-Than-Human Agency in Archaeology, eds Harrison-Buck, E. & Hendon, J.A.. Boulder (CO): University Press of Colorado, 167–97.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Moncel, M.N., Chiotti, L., Gaillard, C., Onoratini, G. & Pleurdeau, D., 2012. Non-utilitarian lithic objects from the European Paleolithic. Archaeology, Ethnology and Anthropology of Eurasia 40(1), 2440.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Nadasdy, P., 2007. The gift in the animal: the ontology of hunting and human–animal sociality. American Ethnologist 34(1), 2543.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Naveh, D. & N. Bird-David, 2014. How persons become things: economic and epistemological changes among Nayaka hunter-gatherers. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 20(1), 7492.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Oakley, K.P., 1944. Man the tool-maker. Proceedings of the Geologists' Association 55(2), 115–18.Google Scholar
Oakley, K.P., 1981. Emergence of higher thought 3.0-0.2 Ma B.P. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society of London. B, Biological Sciences 292(1057), 205–11.Google Scholar
Piperno, M., Collina, C., Gallotti, R., et al. , 2009. Obsidian exploitation and utilization during the Oldowan at Melka Kunture (Ethiopia), in Interdisciplinary Approaches to the Oldowan, eds Hovers, E. & Braun, D.R.. Dordrecht: Springer, 111–28.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Premack, D., 2010. Why humans are unique: three theories. Perspectives on Psychological Science 5(1), 2232.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Reimer, R., 2018. The social importance of volcanic peaks for the indigenous peoples of British Columbia. Journal of Northwest Anthropology 52(1), 435.Google Scholar
Saragusti, I. & Goren-Inbar, N., 2001. The biface assemblage from Gesher Benot Ya'aqov, Israel: illuminating patterns in ‘Out of Africa’ dispersal. Quaternary International 75(1), 85–9.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Sharon, G., 2008. The impact of raw material on Acheulian large flake production. Journal of Archaeological Science 35(5), 1329–44CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Shick, K.D., 1987. Modeling the formation of Early Stone Age artifact concentrations. Journal of Human Evolution 16, 789807.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Shipton, C., 2010. Imitation and shared intentionality in the Acheulean. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 20(2), 197210.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Shipton, C., 2013. A Million Years of Hominin Sociality and Cognition: Acheulean bifaces in the Hunsgi-Baichbal Valley, India. (BAR International series S2468.) Oxford: Archaeopress.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Stout, D., Quade, J., Sema, W.S., Rogers, M.J. & Levin, N.E., 2005. Raw material selectivity of the earliest stone toolmakers at Gona, Afar, Ethiopia. Journal of Human Evolution 48(4), 365–80.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Taçon, P.S.C., 1991. The power of stone: symbolic aspects of stone use and tool development in western Arnhem Land, Australia. Antiquity 65, 192207.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Taçon, P.S.C., 2008. Rainbow colour and power among the Waanyi of northwest Queensland. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 18(2), 163–76.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Tanner, A., 1979. Bringing Home Animals: Religious ideology and mode of production of the Mistassini Cree hunters. St John's: ISER Books.Google Scholar
Tehrani, J.J. & Riede, F., 2008. Towards an archaeology of pedagogy: learning, teaching and the generation of material culture traditions. World Archaeology 40(3), 316–31.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
de Castro, Viveiros, E., 1998. Cosmological deixis and Amerindian perspectivism. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 4(3), 469–88.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Wedage, O., Amano, N., Langley, M.C., et al. , 2019. Specialized rainforest hunting by Homo sapiens ~45,000 years ago. Nature Communications 10(1), 739.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Weinstein-Evron, M., Bar-Oz, G., Zaidner, Y., Tsatskin, A., Druck, D., Porat, N. & Hershkovitz, I., 2003. Introducing Misliya Cave, Mount Carmel, Israel: a new continuous Lower/Middle Paleolithic sequence in the Levant. Journal of Eurasian Prehistory 1(1), 3155.Google Scholar
Wilson, L., 2007. Understanding prehistoric lithic raw material selection: application of a gravity model. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 14, 388411.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Wynn, T. & Tierson, F., 1990. Regional comparison of the shapes of later Acheulean handaxes. American Anthropologist 92(1), 7384.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Wynn, T. & Gowlett, J., 2018. The handaxe reconsidered. Evolutionary Anthropology: Issues, News, and Reviews 27(1), 21–9.Google Scholar
Zedeño, M.N., 2008. Bundled worlds: the roles and interactions of complex objects from the North American Plains. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 15(4), 362–78.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Zedeño, M.N., 2014. Methodological and analytical challenges in relational archaeologies: a view from the hunting ground, in Relational Archaeologies, ed. Watts, C.. London/New York: Routledge, 131–48.Google Scholar
Zutovski, K. & Barkai, R., 2016. The use of elephant bones for making Acheulian handaxes: a fresh look at old bones. Quaternary International 406, 227–38.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Figure 0

Figure 1. Unifacially knapped handaxe from Revadim, preserving the circular pattern in the centre of the item.