Tuesday, 31 December 2024

Canterbury: the third day

Or at least the second morning. There are people we know who, if they found themselves at a loose end in a tourist town first thing in the morning, perhaps a couple of hours from home, would make a day of it, would do the tourist thing until it was dark, then head off home, tired but satisfied. We, however, are made of weaker stuff and the day that we are leaving, we like to get off. Which is what we did on this occasion, just stopping long enough to take a few snaps outside the hotel.

Starting with the near 200 year old Ensigne Place across Ivy Lane from the hotel front car park. I wondered this afternoon about how it started out, which is made rather clearer by a snap from Street View.

So we started out with a symmetrical block, with one pair of chimneys to the right and another to the left. Maybe it started as a rental block of four units with four front doors and, mindful of the red polish to be found towards the end of reference 1, perhaps there was something in the tenancy agreements about keeping the front door steps in decent condition. Then, at some point, the left hand unit was sold off and allowed to go its own way. 

While not long after construction, the door which was where the second window from the right now is, and is still marked by the now redundant boot scraper, had been converted into a window, with No.3 being converted into a much bigger unit. A much bigger unit which ran to two staircases, which was perhaps some consolation for messing about with the tightly planned layout of a two up two down. Something that convertors of three bedroom suburban houses will know all about.

The central door is presumably the passage out back for dustbins, bicycles and the like. Quite a decent sized yard according to Satellite View, complete with a substantial tree. About the same aerial resolution as we get here at Epsom - but not as good as you get in central London.

As noted before, it all reminded very much of Romsey Town in Cambridge, from where the snap above is taken. I would have thought that they were roughly the same age, but in Cambridge they get back gardens rather than back yards and sometimes they get rooms with a view above their passages. On the other hand, they don't get boot scrapers by their front doors and they don't get arches above their front doors.

Perhaps some architectural student should write a piece comparing and contrasting the two places, both on the outskirts of ancient towns which were once home to lots of parsons and lawyers.

Back in the car park and rotating left, a view of the inner by-pass, a section which does not come with a city wall on the far side.

While round to the right we have what was once a reasonably grand door. Locked and bolted now, but sufficiently grand that there is still a lot of brown wood panelling and trim on the other side, Travelodge makeover notwithstanding. While outside we have the boot scraper, lower left. Maybe in the morning I will give some thought to why the window might be where it is.

The plaque to the right records the fact that Mary Tourtel, 1874-1948, the creator of Rupert Bear, spent the last part of her life here. Reference 2 suggests that she was rich and tells us that she liked to live in hotels rather than houses - and as a widowed Canterbury girl, wound up in this one. Perhaps this door served as her private entrance to her private apartments. Did she have her own maid, or did she make do with a girl from the hotel?

And so into the car and off to Epsom. We spotted three Wellingtonia before we got to the M20: one sick, one indifferent and one in good health - but none scored. Once we were on the road, we were hard to stop. We also noticed quite a lot of river, which we had missed in the dark on the way in, possibly some part of the Stour.

Indeed, a peek at Ordnance Survey today, a chunk of which is snapped above, suggests that both the railway and the A28 follow the Stour through a gap in the North Downs, rather in the way that both the railway and the A24 follow the Mole through the Mole gap a little to the west, between Leatherhead and Dorking. But no Box Hill, National Trust and south facing scarp slope in Kent, not that I can see.

We did think about taking some noodles, for a change, in one of the fast food joints in a service area, but in the end we didn't. We may have settled for a quick lentil soup at home.

References 

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/the-outsider.html.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Tourtel.

Monday, 30 December 2024

Dover Patrol Two

Following the first report at reference 1, the number of Screwfix circuits has been holding up well over the holiday.

A quick foray into town around lunchtime on Christmas Day, in which it was established that Wetherspoon's and the Marquis were both open and we had been told that the Marquis would be good for bar service until the first sitting for lunch kicked in at 13:00. In the event, we settled on Wetherspoon's, which was fairly quiet, but with a good mixture of people. Not all old soaks by any means.

And then a proper circuit early evening, when I found that while Wetherspoon's was by then shut, the Marquis still looked as if it would serve me, and a good number of convenience stores and take-away food outlets were open, if mostly fairly quiet. Maybe as many as ten of them altogether. A sprinkling of food delivery riders.

The convenience store in Pound Lane was open, while our trusty Costcutter in Manor Green Road was shut. Furthermore, it was shut on Boxing Day which caught a fair number of people out.

The Blenheim was shut on both Christmas Day and Boxing Day, as was the Rifleman at the start of Hook Road.

And to think that when I was young, pubs were open and busy 12:00-14:00 on Christmas Day, with ambience very Sunday-like, with a fair bit of drink being taken, but all very relaxed and friendly. Both sessions on Boxing Day were apt to be busy: not least because of betting people for the first session and young people escaping their families for the second.

While today has seen a small disaster. Tomorrow lunchtime had been allocated to chicken soup, the sort of soup that I make by boiling up the chicken carcase with some vegetables, possibly left over, draining off the liquor and making the soup with that. Usually involving at least some orange lentils.

I must have been a bit tired, as I put the carcase and vegetables on to boil in the kitchen, on full, then forgot about it, being distracted in the extension at the other end of the house. Eventually I nodded off, to be woken by concerned family members who had eventually noticed that the saucepan had boiled dry and burned. Lots of steam, lots of condensation on the kitchen walls and quite a lot of smell.

Soup a complete write off, but I was able to clean the saucepan in just a few minutes, probably not as many as ten, with the help of one of those plastic pan scourers that look like metal. Although on asking Bing, I find that the ones that look like metal actually are metal, stainless steel in fact. The one in question is probably a cut price version of the one snapped above.

If only I had turned the saucepan down to simmer before sloping off! It would have been good for hours then. As it was, a couple of pints of water boiled off in around two hours. I can't remember doing such a thing before, so if I have, it must have been a while ago.

As it happens, I had stripped a reasonable portion of chicken off the carcase, with the intention of adding it back to the soup in due course. It will now go into something involving butter, onions, mushrooms and soft noodles - probably not Sharwood's on this occasion. Own brand...

PS 1: pictures of household goods seem to be displayed in such a way that if you hover over them, you zoom in. Unusually, this can interact with the Microsoft Snipping Tool, with the resulting image not being quite what you were looking for - with something of the sort occurring with the Fleurie snap at reference 2 - with my not bothering to do anything about it there. While this afternoon, after a few attempts, the Snipping Tool got the idea with pan scourers and got it right, without my seeming to have done anything to encourage it, apart from repeating myself.

PS 2: the day closes with puzzling about how many different sorts of 6 sided dice there are. On a sample of five, we had three of one configuration and then two singles. According to Gemini, the rule is that opposite sides must always add to seven, a rule which allows a clockwise and an anticlockwise version. Both versions are permitted, although one might have thought that respectable casinos would only carry dice of the one sort. I shall check my five again in the morning. New Year's Resolution: putting aside the rule of seven, compute, without using a computer to help, how many permutations there are.

PS 3: progress the next morning. All five dice now obey the rule of seven. The three coloured dice are clockwise 2-3-5-4 (for the sake of argument), the two white dice are anti-clockwise. One of the white dice was a piece of printed cardboard from a Christmas cracker, now bent more or less into shape. And I think one can get to the answer of the resolution by thinking of three dumb-bells, with each bell carrying one of the numbers. Once you have assigned the numbers, it does not matter how you arrange the first two, you always get the same thing. But there are two ways of adding the third, with one being the mirror image of the other.

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/dover-patrol-one.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/canterbury-second-day.html.

Reference 3: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dice. A compendium of useful information about dice.

Sunday, 29 December 2024

Canterbury: the second day

Our odd breakfast corner in the Travelodge version of the Chaucer Hotel, first noticed at references 1 and 2. Chosen because it was the only place we could find that was out of sight of the two televisions. Fortunately, not on very loud. Quite a decent breakfast, and while the oranges on offer looked a bit tired, they tasted fine.

Having got our car into a slot at the car park at the back of the hotel, out to find this imposing privy, just outside the city walls. Perhaps being outside, it was outside the archbishop's jurisdiction, so the council were able to shut it. Perhaps the someone took it on had a sense of humour as I dare say the sign once said 'Gents', or perhaps 'Ladies'.

I am reminded by Street View that there are two of them and that there are fire buckets and signs of umbrellas. Perhaps the place was a bar or club for a while, in the way of the similar facilities opposite the low numbered platforms at Waterloo Station.

Worked our way up Burgate to the cathedral, to find that there were no refreshment facilities inside the cathedral, for some reason I now forget, so we thought we had better top up before diving in. We found the very establishment for the occasion, which came with a flock of pretty young waitresses, teapots and lots of bric-a-brac. But not tea cakes - and I had to settle for something called a mince Bakewell. I was assured that they were very popular, taken hot.

As it happened there was a young man sat across the way from us, by himself, from east Asia. He just took a coffee, but supplemented this with a bun he extracted from a paper bag inside his back bag. Bit of a cheek. He was then given a cake, which he ate up. It turned out that he had been given my Bakewell by mistake, which he ate up without comment - and without paying - as when he left he just paid for his coffee. Maybe his English was not very good, but a bit odd all the same. The paying bit from the waitress who bought me a second Bakewell. She thought it was a bit odd too. Tourists.

Of whom a lot appeared to be French. I did not get around to asking one of them whether they were day trippers.

Into the cathedral where we found that they had special drain covers as well as special privies and special constables. I notice this morning that they were still doing special drain covers as recently as 2018 - which I find surprising.

Perhaps the older lady we had come across in Burgate, with a very Cambridge-style bicycle, complete with willow basket propped up by a bit of DIY carpentry attached to the front axle - the sort of gadget my own bicycle once sported - was a member of the heritage team. She had certainly sounded as if she could have been: the wife of the holder of a prebend's stall at the cathedral, at the very least. For which, see reference 10.

Perhaps the new drain covers were ordered up when they resurfaced the precinct. The surrounding stones look pretty new.

The newish building to the immediate right of the stalls in the snap above was the hotel we could not get into on this occasion. Hopefully, next time.

The bell tower looking well in the cold morning light.

Impressive place inside, although I have not yet got used to the cross beams bracing the large columns holding up the bell tower. It seems that the builders noticed that they were flexing inwards under the weight and thought that they had better do something about it. A something lightened by the tracery, but visually intrusive nonetheless.

Reference 3 suggests that no such thing was necessary at rather earlier Westminster Abbey, but then it is only a fairly small tower over the crossing, scarcely more than a roof light, there. Took a while to find the snap in the book, but Windows search turned up reference 4 in no time at all. And I dare say Bing search would have turned up a modern version of the snap above in no time at all. But more satisfactory to do it the old-fashioned way!

The lid of the font, just visible left in the earlier snap of the nave above. A handsome and elaborate affair, rescued from the depredations of the Puritans after the restoration of Charles II. Note the chain hoist above.

The candle marks the spot where the shrine to the murdered  Saint Thomas once stood, with the tomb of the Black Prince (who died in middle age of something not very heroic) off snap to the right. Almost as grand a spot as that afforded to Henry V in Westminster Abbey.

I found the windows impressive, although I have no idea how old they are. I associated to the rather large and ugly Hockney window the holy fathers have seen fit to install in the abbey. People in ancient professions often seen to make a bit of a mess of trying to keep up with the times.

The man himself. As it happened, the place chosen for our rendez-vous. The railings are presumably a later addition. One is reminded how fit these chaps must have been to wear all this steel through long days of battle. Never mind fighting as well.

Looking west down the quire. A snap which could not have made it to my laptop by the time that I posted reference 5.

An unusual bit of trim to the base of a column. I do not recall seeing such a thing before. Fiddly for the masons.

I took a time out in the Chapel of our Lady of Martyrdom and St. Benedick, aka the Dean's Chapel. Very fine, in the words of Chief Inspector Morse, although he usually managed to make them sound rather hollow and pretentious. Perhaps that was the intention of his director.

Down to the impressive crypt.

Past the grand chapel for the Buffs, a once proud Kentish regiment which did near 300 years service before being lost to merger in the 1960's. One of the many which were lost at about the same time. I had thought that the phrase 'steady the Buffs' was the Duke of Wellington working his magic on a flagging battalion waiting to receive a French charge at Waterloo, but I learn this morning that I had got this quite wrong, no idea why. The truth, to be found at reference 11, is much more prosaic.

Out to take lunch at the nearby Côte Brasserie. They kept us waiting a few minutes for our table, but it was worth it. A dry run, although we did not go so far as to make it teetotal, having been noticed at reference 7. Sadly, I forgot to take my folding Laguiole, with which to impress the waiting staff. 

Having at first thought to go white, I actually settled for what turned out to be an entirely satisfactory couple of bottles of Fleurie. Louis Tête, a domaine which sold out to the Agamy operation to be found at reference 8.

Oddly, I could not find the Fleurie there, but I could find the wine snapped above at reference 9. Not quite the same. And our bottle does not look like something just knocked out for the restaurant trade in the UK. In fact, not at all likely given its substantial Internet footprint.

I took onion soup, which came with a couple of slices of cheese on toast, one of which I passed on, chicken & chips and raspberry sorbet. Orange having gone missing. Washed down with a spot of Calvados. Quite a lot of steak and chips elsewhere in the party. BH visibly fishy.

Lots of bread, which was as good as on the previous occasion. The waiter said something about it being delivered from Côte Central each morning, but that seems a bit unlikely. It is not as if the chain is very thick on the provincial ground. Another mystery.

Out to Evensong at the cathedral, where we got talking to a talkative lady from East Prussia, I thought German rather than Polish, without being too sure about it. A congregation of around 100, so rather more than I remember from the last occasion. I thought the choir was probably the B team, with the A team being held back for the big days to come. No adults. Can't remember about girls. But the choir boy nearest me was finishing off his homework between times, which was very proper. Led by a lady cantor whom I thought managed from the back rather well, even if she was helped with a microphone.

On the way back to the hotel, called in at the the busy Wetherpoon's. Lots of happy, festive people, some in festive gear.

Fullish moon over the hotel, peeping out of an unusual cloud formation - which I thought it might be called a mackerel sky.

A thought which is supported but not confirmed by Bing this (Monday) morning.

Still a bit full for proper eating, so we settled for a snack in our hotel room, drawn from our trusty picnic bag in the car. I made short work of an apple using my nail file from Sheffield.

PS: on closing this post, I was amused to come across the piece at reference 12. Very suitable stuff for an end-of-year filler. Decorated with the snap above, which reminded me of my remarks about happy faces towards the end of reference 13.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/canterbury-first-day.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/fake-187.html.

Reference 3: Westminster Abbey, historically described - Feasey, Micklethwaite and Bell - 1899.

Reference 4: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/03/a-bit-of-heritage.html.

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/right-lighting.html.

Reference 6: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/pianos-96-and-97.html. Not Steinways.

Reference 7: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/more-madrigals.html.

Reference 8: https://agamy.fr/en/louis-tete-brand/.

Reference 9: https://agamy.fr/.

Reference 10: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prebendary.

Reference 11: https://www.britishempire.co.uk/forces/armyunits/britishinfantry/buffs.htm.

Reference 12: The great wealth transfer: Big inheritances are set to transform economies, markets and society - The Editorial Board, Financial Times - 2024.

Reference 13: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/spoons.html.

The outsider

In the course of reading the book by the late Zoltan Torey at reference 3, I digressed to matters pre-historic, landing a few days ago on reference 1, the chapter of a book by one Robert Bednarik, in which an exogram is an external version of the internal endogram developed by Torey. More or less anything made or collected for no very good reason. With exograms both reflecting and being evidence of human cognitive activity: you would not make them without something going on inside. And externalising that something amounted to communication then – and a window onto that cognitive activity now.

Furthermore, Bednarik claims that non-human animals do not do exograms: that it is one of the last distinguishing features left standing. With the exograms of present interest being the ones which survive, which make the archaeological record. With things made of flint making an important part of that record, particularly the early record, by virtue of being extremely durable.

Bednarik, as described at reference 5, an Australian who emigrated from Austria as a young man, is something of an outsider, outside the regular academic world, although he is a professor at the International Centre of Rock Art Dating and Conservation (ICRAD), based at Hubei University, for which see references 6 and 7. He also looks to go to some trouble to make himself visible to the Internet and its search engines.

A chapter which started life as a presentation at the NeanderART 2018 conference at Borgosesia, a town a little to the northwest of Milan and a little less to the west of Lake Maggiore. Not so much of an outsider then!

But which may go some way to explaining why the author is a bit free with what seem to be his many dislikes. I wonder if he has a regularly updated hate list pinned to his kitchen door in the way of my late younger brother?

Excess and unhelpful use of the terms ‘art’ and ‘symbolic’. He prefers to concentrate on the material and technical side of things

Excess consideration of and consideration for the cave paintings of southwestern Europe. A lot of which are probably the work of children. And what about Australia, where there are lots of them?

Sloppy dating of said cave paintings – with a lot of them turning out not to be very old at all

The people at UNESCO who make lists of such things. ‘The World Heritage List … simply manifests cultural values held by European researchers’

The Palaeolithic art lobby. ‘The obsession with Palaeolithic ‘art’ is … Eurocentric, misguided and scientifically flawed’

The ‘African Eve’ hoax. The hoax according to which nothing really got going before she arrived on the scene. While the rather older male version does not get a look in

Academic archaeologists and geologists who do not understand about cupules at all. Not in the way that someone who lives with them or works with them does.

Controversies apart, the story seems to be that there are plenty of exograms to be found around the world, not just from the wider Mediterranean basin, and not just from the past 50,000 years. Plenty of evidence of human cognitive activity, the sort which goes beyond simple stimulus and response, learned or otherwise. He offers the timeline snapped above.

Another timeline

There is one lot of names for geological eras, another for the most recent round of ice ages and yet more for human times. The first covering billions of years, the last a small number of millions. With eras defined by the sort of life present, periods and epochs by the sort of rocks being made. And with there being a climate aspect to epochs. Notwithstanding which, dates, terms and terminology seem to come and go in a rather confusing way.

I have attempted a summary of all this in the snap above, to be contrasted with that at the top of reference 11. With Microsoft, as ever, fussing about my spelling.

For the Quaternary period we also have around 100 Marine Isotopes Stages (MIS), working back from MIS 1, which is now. This data, derived from deep sea sedimentary cores, tells us of the regular temperature oscillations – and the corresponding glaciations – aka ice ages – aka stadials and interstadials of reference 20 – over that period. All mixed up with the Milankovitch cycles which were introduced at reference 14.

There is a theoretical problem here, in that it is OK to map periods and epochs onto dates because they can be considered to be global phenomena. But this is not so obviously the case with ages and lithic modes: might not the dates vary from place to place, from culture to culture? Might different cultures fall more naturally into a different sequence of lithic modes? These matters are addressed at reference 12 – but not in what follows.

Modes of stone working


Following on from reference 4 (of which I happen to have a copy), Clark went on to formalise five modes of working with stones, starting more than two million years ago, a formalisation which appears to have stood the test of time, with the snap above taken from reference 12. Usually called technology modes, sometimes lithic modes.

The famous Acheulean hand axes count as mode 2. And some of them appear to be more ornamental than functional. Almost art!

A snap of an unusually large, late Acheulean hand axe, recently discovered at Frindsbury in Kent, near the mouth of the Medway, is included above. Around 300mm in length: if nothing else, a very lethal weapon! Taken from reference 12.

Manuports

Turning now to exograms, manuports are found objects carried back to a living place. They need to be significant in some way and to have clearly been moved to a place where they would not have been in the ordinary cause of events. Animal, probably human, agency has to be involved.

Manuports include unusual rocks, pebbles, crystals and fossils. Some may resemble faces, bodies or even sexual parts. Some have been dated to more than two million years ago.

On the assumption that human agency is involved, evidence here for cognitive activity straying beyond immediate needs and activities. An activity which might well evolve into collecting – bearing in mind that finding several useless objects of the same sort in an excavation does not necessarily amount to collecting. All being nice and tidy in a box would be much better evidence!

Pigment

Pigment is documented around the world for around a million years. In pots or blocks. On bodies, on artefacts and on rock walls, often in caves – with elaborate paintings on these last being relatively recent, say in the last 50,000 years. The one snapped above is in South America: not like the sort of thing we get in southwestern Europe at all. Estimated to be around 12,500 years old, that is to say, from just before the start of the Holocene era. I have yet to find out how what appear be paintings out in the open survived.

The pigment, as here, is often red ochre, an iron oxide pigment derived from one of the haematites.

Cupules

Cupules are small, round depressions hammered (not ground) into the faces of rocks or rock, maybe as much as 1cm deep and usually rather wider than deep, roughly hemispherical. Sometimes in lines or patterns, sometimes singly, sometimes scattered about. Found all over the world, but particularly in the southern hemisphere, with some of them dating back near half a million years. While the chart suggested a million and a half, so I thought I had better turn up reference 15 – where I was rather confused to find that lots of such depressions are actually naturally occurring. Which took me back to the natural pitting of granite, which cropped up in a previous outing and which can be seen in kerbstones here in Epsom.

It turns out that Bednarik describes the various naturally occurring cupules at some length and seems to be satisfied that at least a lot of the time he can tell which is which. He also excludes the depressions made in slabs in the course of grinding food grains, the idea being that cupules are not useful. But he includes the many cupules made on what he calls lithophones and which Wikipedia (at reference 17) calls ringing rocks, that is to say rocks which sound a bit like a bell when struck. Bednarik does not appear to be aware of the scientific work that has been done on the ringing rocks of the US, the principal subject of the Wikipedia entry. The Scandinavians seem to be quite interested in them too. And then there are the small ones collected into a musical instrument, in the way of a xylophone.

The example above is in the Sudan, complete with cupules. Google Image search knows where to find it!

Near contemporary cupules of this sort figure in various rituals, for example to do with influencing the weather or fertility. But I think Bednarik is attracted to the notion that these cupules are also made for their own sake, for the various satisfactions to be derived from the laborious and skilful hammering of deep, neat holes. The satisfactions of craft.

While I think of the curiosity about rocks that are alive, when most rocks are dead. They are memorable and one is going to think about them. They might even count as animate rather than as inanimate in the classification schemes used in Bantu languages – for which see reference 18.

In sum, it seems clear enough that there are a lot of cupules around the world, that some of them were in use until quite recently and that some of them are very old – although dating is difficult and I am not clear exactly how old. While dates of up to around 200,000 years ago seem to be well established.

Beads

Beads have been around for a long time. Beads which usually need to be shaped, pierced, strung together and then either worn directly, for example, as a necklace or sewn onto clothing. Beads which might be made of fossil shells, ivory or ostrich shells. In the case of this last, the makers often go to a lot of bother to make them small, neat and even. Quite a lot of cognitive activity involved here.

This Ostrich eggshell necklace is from the Isiko museum of South Africa. I have not been able to find out how old it is – and it may well be modern – but it does give the idea. However, at reference 8, he talks of Libyan eggshell beds which are of the order of 200,000 years old. The talk is of actual shell: it seems that you do get fossil eggshell but it is a good deal older.

According to Bednarik, it is difficult to make them any smaller – and in any event it takes practise and patience to do a neat job.

Acheulian stone beads from England and France, made from globular fossil casts of a sponge, snap taken from reference 1. Saint-Acheul being near Amiens in France and the Acheulian age running from 1.9 million years ago to 13,000 years ago, that is to say, to the end of the Old Stone Age, to the start of our own Holocene epoch.

My third example is the ivory beads which Bednarik mentions from the famous and extraordinary graves first excavated at Sunghir in the 1960’s, just outside Vladimir, roughly 200km east of Moscow. A place which would have been cold during glacial stages (concerning which archaeologists talk of stadials, interstadials and tricky measurements of oxygen isotopes taken from ice cores taken from Greenland). With these graves dating from one of the warmer periods around 30,000-35,000 years ago. They contain a variety of grave goods, described at reference 2, from which the snap above it taken, but for present purposes the interest is in the thousands of mammoth ivory beads, thought to have been sewn onto clothes rather than worn on strings as necklaces or bracelets.

Evidence of manufacture of large numbers of quite small beads, analysed at reference 10 into four sets of beads of similar size and appearance. Organised into strings, mostly sewn onto clothes, mostly at elbows, wrists, waists, knees and ankles – and some with complicated rhythms.

The rectangular beads.

The round beads. For square see below.

The basket beads.


 The square beads.

Manufacture which is evidence of an abundance of leisure time – time which is not taken up with basic subsistence activities – and of some considerable drive to make these beads – and to make them properly – and them to organise them into strings. All of which is suggestive to me of more or less modern cognitive capabilities.

Engravings

There are also lots of old engravings on rocks, often no more than a group of straight grooves, sometimes more or less parallel, sometimes something more complicated. Again, easily confused with markings which have arisen naturally.

Bednarik is satisfied that these incised lines are indeed the deliberate work of early humans. They may be no more than doodles, something to while away a quiet evening, but they are deliberate and involve both care and time. Once again, something cognitive was going on a long time ago.

Animal exograms

A lot of birds make elaborate nests. A lot of birds sing elaborate songs, as do whales. Magpies do not collect, but some birds and animals do collecting of a sort. Some of this collecting is described at reference 24 – collections which are only rather weak exograms in the present sense. But maybe the bald statement that animals do not do exograms is a bit strong. Like the other binary dichotomies between humans and other animals, it breaks down at the margins – which may make difficulties for the argument that all these exograms are the product of some special adaptation of the human brain.

Not something that Bednarik goes into in the present paper.

Other matters

Bednarik does not talk about (controlled) fire, another activity which leaves its mark in the archaeological record. He might argue that fire does not qualify as an exogram partly because it is so obviously useful, perhaps more because while making a fire might be thought of as a craft activity, that craft does not leave much of a record, perhaps just the hearth or container, which is not quite the same thing – although it seems likely that fire was made and was appreciated for more decorative, artistic reasons. Certainly for ritual reasons.

I associate to the book at reference 21, acquired many years ago from I forget where, an imaginary account of a band of early humans which loses its fire, and which struggled to get it back. Humans who have fire and keep fire, but who have not yet learned how to relight it if they lose it. I have only just started to take another look at this book, but I seem to remember that the band carried its fires about in its wanderings in little containers cunningly contrived out of stone. 

Set around 100,000 years ago, when humans had crude weapons and language, knew about bride prices and sometimes ate each other. This band ordinarily had three fires, that is to say small fires which functioned as match boxes, kept in aforementioned containers, maintained and guarded by four women and two warriors. I suppose the former did the maintaining, the latter the guarding. But in this story, this had all gone wrong and the band were in cold turkey for the duration. Which is all well and good as a story, but the evidence now, a hundred years later, is that humans had and controlled fire as long ago as 500,000 years ago.

I think burials, with their being plenty of elaborate ancient burials in the record, are excluded by virtue of being both functional and heavily endowed with ritual and meaning.

I have learned of rock varnish. Rock varnish is a dark coating which you can get on exposed rock surfaces and it is probably the world's slowest-accumulating sedimentary deposit, growing at only a few to tens of microns per thousand years – with a micron aka ‘µm’ being a thousandth part of a millimetre. Its thickness ranges from <5 µm to 600 µm, with a typical thickness of about 100 µm. Despite the thinness of the varnish, it is layered, with each layer reflecting the climate over a period of the order of a thousand years, in something of the way of the tree rings that one can count on the cut ends of tree trunks. These layers can be correlated with other laminated sources which have already been dated, for example cores from the bottom of lakes or through ice sheets. One can then use that correlation to provide a first exposure date for the object in question. A technique which particularly useful for the rocks of alluvial fans in what are now deserts. Good for up to 70,000 years ago. VML – varnish microlamination dating – is just one of a number of exotic dating tools now available to archaeologists and geologists. There is an accessible description of VML at reference 19.

Ringing rocks sound like a very striking phenomenon (hmmm), the sort of thing that might well give rise to thought or ritual. The only thing of the same sort that I can come up with today is lunar and solar eclipses. More things which are strange and unusual, but ultimately without significance as far as subsistence is concerned. One has to have moved beyond that, or at least to a point where one has room for other stuff.

I associate the fact that in some cultures the ruler is in some sense assimilated to the sun and one is supposed to turn away or prostrate oneself when he passes, rather as one turns one’s gaze away from the sun. While, contrariwise, in others, one is supposed to fix one’s respectful gaze on the ruler when he is in one’s vicinity.

In the past, I have failed to find a good image of the sort of scale (and colour) marker that archaeologists often include in their photographs. On this occasion I found one, so it is included here for future reference.

This one is personalised, as it were, for IFRAO, the International Federation of Rock Art Organisations, a federation of which Bednarik is a prominent member. To be found at reference 23.

Lastly an irrelevance arising from Christmas chocolates – it occurring to me for the first time that chocolates are icons of themselves, taking in their shape in general and the pattern on their tops in particular. The chocolates have to be different enough from each other that it is easy enough to locate the chocolate in hand on the printed menu – which one needs to do if one wants to know what is inside before biting into it.

With the people who produced the menu offered above giving themselves more of a challenge by having them all the same shape.

Something of the same sort is involved in the visual menus provided by self-checkouts in the big supermarkets for items sold in bulk or are which otherwise inconvenient to bar code – like red grapefruit at Waitrose. Menus which will perhaps soon be made by redundant by self-checkouts which can tell their apples and oranges apart?

No doubt something that can be worked into my occasional musings about the different sorts of pictograms and alphabets.

Conclusions

There seems to be some drive for perfection in the form of artefacts; perfection which goes beyond the use to which the artefact is put. Perhaps an artefact which has no use. However this drive came to be, it seems to be very old, perhaps as old as 500,000 years old, well before the explosion in technology which set in after the end of the last ice age, say 12,000 years ago. Quite possibly before the invention of language.

Examples from our own times include the ladies who put a lot of effort into the red polish on their front doorsteps and the gentlemen who put a lot of effort into making their lines of cabbages exactly straight. Competition is one part of both activities, but perfection is another – another which probably came first.

A stake in the ground in the argument about for which activities language is necessary rather than just helpful.

And having been reminded of ‘La Guerre du Feu’ (reference 21), I shall ponder about the role of this sort of thing in the real work: with the present thought being that there is one, that imaginary reconstruction of the world of early humans is both a useful and an entertaining exercise.

PS: I believe this particular one made the author a great deal of money.

References

Reference 1: Book chapter: The dawn of exograms – Robert G. Bednarik – 2020. 

Reference 2: Diversity and differential disposal of the dead at Sunghir – Erik Trinkaus, Alexandra P. Buzhilova – 2017’. 

Reference 3: The crucible of consciousness – Zoltan Torey – 2009.

Reference 4: Pre-Historic Societies – Graham Clark and Stuart Piggott – 1965.

Reference 5: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_G._Bednarik

Reference 6: https://en.hbnu.edu.cn/

Reference 7: The International Centre of Rock Art Dating and Conservation (ICRAD) – Robert G. Bednarik – 2016.

Reference 8: Middle Pleistocene Beads and Symbolism – Robert G. Bednarik – 2005. Quite a lot of overlap with reference 1. 

Reference 8: https://www.homoneanderthalensis.org/

Reference 9: The age of the Sunghir Upper Paleolithic human burials – Erik Trinkaus, A. P. Buzhilova, M. B. Mednikova, Maria Dobrovolskaya – 2015. Useful background on dating. 

Reference 10: Ivory beads of the Sungir Paleolithic site: Shapes and features of their alternation in set decorations - G.A. Khlopachev, L.O. Bazilevich – 2023. Mostly in Russian, but with English provided for the summary and the captions to the figures.

Reference 11: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/mithen.html

Reference 12: On Stony Ground: Lithic Technology, Human Evolution, and the Emergence of Culture – Robert Foley, Marta Mirazón Lahr – 2003. 

Reference 13: On the Discovery of a Late Acheulean 'Giant' Handaxe from the Maritime Academy, Frindsbury, Kent – Letty Ingrey, Sarah M. Duffy, Martin Bates, Andrew Shaw, Matt Pope – 2023. 

Reference 14: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/12/lisiecki-and-raymo-2005-used.html

Reference 15: Cupules - Robert G. Bednarik – 2008. 

Reference 16: Preliminary results of the EIP Project – Robert G. Bednarik, Giriraj Kumar, Alan Watchman, Richard G. Roberts – 2005. EIP for ‘Early Indian Petroglyphs Project’, particularly cupules. 

Reference 17: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ringing_rocks. ‘… The sound can be duplicated on a small scale by tapping the handle of a ceramic coffee cup…’.

Reference 18: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/12/bantu.html

Reference 19: Millennial-scale varnish microlamination dating of late Pleistocene geomorphic features in the drylands of western USA – Tanzhuo Liu, Wallace S. Broecker – 2013.

Reference 20: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stadial_and_interstadial

Reference 21: La Guerre du Feu – J. H. Rosny aîné – 1911. 

Reference 22: https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Guerre_du_feu. A substantial article, albeit in French. The source of the two cave men snaps above.

Reference 23: https://www.ifrao.com/ifrao/

Reference 24: https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/collectors-and-hoarders-of-the-animal-world.html

Saturday, 28 December 2024

Spoons

[South Bank exhibition site by night, with the Lion and Unicorn Pavilion in the centre and the Royal Festival Hall to the right. Catalogue ref: WORK 25/209/D1/FOB3836]

[Probably the original of the snap which finds its way into Wetherspoon News]

Over the holiday we acquired a copy of the Winter/Spring 2024/25 UK edition of the Wetherspoon News, from which I share some bits and pieces.

The magazine provides air time for a good number of Wetherspoon's outlets across the country. I dare say managers are invited to send in items of interest - charity events, 100th birthdays and the like.

We were interested to read about the large new outlet at the Sidings at Waterloo, noticed at reference 5. Named for a pavilion at the 1951 Festival of Britain, to be seen in the middle of the first of the snaps above, lifted from reference 6. All very arts and crafts: '... The pavilion was intended to display ‘British character and tradition’, a theme which the designers approached with a sense of humour and joy...'. One hopes that it was not just Tory spite which led to the subsequent clearance of most of the site.

Then that Epsom refurbishment had cost £1.375 million rather than the £0.5 million I had estimated at reference 3. A refurbishment which appeared to amount to a (tasteful) redecoration in the public area, but also included upgrading the toilets and the kitchens. This last including the addition of something called an open-gantry food hoist room. Unfortunately, while the people at reference 4 were clearly in the right business, it was not clear what exactly had been put into the kitchen here at Epsom. One might have thought an industrial version of a dumb waiter, but I did not spot anything which fitted that bill. Will I be able to persuade a team member to show me the contraption in question? Although thinking with my fingers, I dare say that would contravene the hygiene regulations.

The other thing that I noticed was the near absence of happy faces of colour among all the other customers being snapped. Wetherspoon seem to be active in the disability arena, having been better than average, for example, in the provision of disabled toilets for a long time, but maybe they are not as active in the diversity arena. Other magazines do much better.

PS: and while I am on, I might as well mention Gemini. BH thought that she had read that a Noel Coward play about luvvies in a care home was on television over the holiday and asked her smart television to find it for her, to no avail. Neither Bing nor Google did any better, at least on the search keys that I used. So I tried Gemini with 'There was a film on television over the holiday involving Noel Coward and retired actors & actresses in a care home. Can you tell me the name of the film please' - and while he would not have got many marks in a school for his answer, he did lead me to the right answer, which was that what BH saw was probably a listing for a BBC radio adaptation of the 1960 Noel Coward play 'Waiting in the Wings'. There was an Australian television adaptation, not that long after the original production, but I doubt whether that was on our telly. Not to be confused with various more recent, but quite different, offerings with the same title.

References

Reference 1: https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m00268tt.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waiting_in_the_Wings_(play).

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/08/plums.html.

Reference 4: https://www.hoistuk.com/products/food-industry-clean-room/.

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/11/zelinsky.html.

Reference 6: https://blog.nationalarchives.gov.uk/the-lion-and-unicorn-pavilion-legacies-of-the-1951-festival-of-britain/.