Archaeologies of Sexuality

Robert A. Schmidt, Barbara L. Voss

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2005
• ISBN:
  9781134593842
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Ciencias sociales
• Subtopic: Arqueología

Status, age and gender have long been accepted aspects of archaeological enquiry, yet it is only recently that archaeologists have started seriously to consider the role of sex and sexuality in their studies.
Archaeologies of Sexuality is a timely and pioneering work. It presents a strong, diverse body of scholarship which draws on locations as varied as medieval England, the ancient Maya kingdoms, New Kingdom Egypt, prehistoric Europe, and convict-era Australia, demonstrating the challenges and rewards of integrating the study of sex and sexuality within archaeology.
This volume, with contributions by many leading archaeologists, will serve both as an essential introduction and a valuable reference tool for students and academics.

Chapter One
Archaeologies of sexuality: an introduction

Barbara L. Voss and Robert A. Schmidt

INTRODUCTION

This book is about anthropological archaeology and its emerging contributions to studies of sexuality. Our goal is to foreground sexuality as a subject of archaeological analysis by presenting a number of case studies which focus on the relationship between archaeological data and sexuality in the past. While sexuality has traditionally been absent in archaeologicalinterpretations, the studies in this volume demonstrate that this need not be the case. Archaeological data can – and should – be applied to better understand human sexual expressions throughout history. Because human sexuality touches many, if not all, aspects of culture, archaeological interpretations which include sexuality will provide richer, more nuanced understandings of the past.

Why is a volume like this necessary? Unfortunately, most archaeologists have not addressed sexuality in their research, in large part because of a disciplinary perception that sexuality is outside the purview of archaeology. The challenges are straightforward. Can sexuality be studied historically, and if so, does sexuality leave any material traces? How can we use potsherds, soil stains, animal bones, collapsed walls, or other archaeological data to study sexual identities, sexual activities, and sexual relationships? Yet these challenges defining cultural variables, and relating material evidence to social behavior are always present in archaeology. In this sense, perhaps sexuality is no different than political organization, religion, gender, ethnicity, or social ranking – all topics which archaeologistshave successfully investigated. What is needed is a recognition that existing theories and methods can also be used to connect material evidence with research questions about sexuality. The case studies in this volume demonstrate that archaeological studies of sexualityare indeed possible, and that such studies can greatly enhance our interpretations of the past.

In this introductory essay, we explore several themes which provide a context for the case studies which follow. First, we address issues of language. What does the term ‘sexuality’mean? Next, we define issues which have hindered archaeological studies of sexuality, both in theory and in method. We suggest several guidelines for archaeological investigationsof sexuality: some prescriptive and some cautionary. We present an interdisciplinary survey of sexuality studies in sexology, socio-cultural anthropology, physical anthropology, history, classics, and several material disciplines such as art history, material culture studies, geography, and architecture. In summarizing the status of sexuality studies in these fields, we emphasize the approaches, methods, and techniques which may be useful to archaeologicalresearch on sexuality. Next, we turn to archaeology itself: how has sexuality generally been treated within archaeological studies? We review the recent emergence of explicit archaeological studies on sexuality over the last decade, and discuss several trends which characterize these studies. Finally, we briefly discuss the chapters that follow, highlighting themes that cross-cut the individual case studies.

THE LANGUAGE OF SEXUALITY

In standard English, the word ‘sex’ has tangled and ambiguous meanings. According to the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, sex refers to being either male or female, to coitus, to eroticism, and to reproduction. These varied meanings are both confusing and revealing, suggesting some of the ways in which anglophone cultures imbricate coitus, genitalia, and gender. ‘Having sex’ is both an activity and a state of being.

How can we break down these multiple meanings into useful terms which can aid, rather than hinder, research about sexuality? As a first step, we distinguish between biologicalsex, gender, and sexuality. We take biological sex to refer to the physical and genetic differences of the body which are related to reproduction – for example, genitalia, chromosomaldistinctions, hormonal distinctions, and reproductive organs. Gender, as conventionally used in anthropology, refers to the cultural organization of biological sexual differences (Rubin 1975; Vance 1991; but see Butler 1990, 1993a; Fausto-Sterling 1983; Moore 1994: 827; and Delphy 1993 for different perspectives on this issue). Sexuality, then, is related to both biological sex and gender, and simultaneously is quite distinct from them.

If sexuality is not encompassed within biological sex and/or gender, then what is it?
We employ sexuality to refer to all kinds of sexual relations, including sexual activities, eroticism, sexual identities, sexual meanings, and sexual politics. By sexual activities, we mean what most people think of as ‘having sex’ not just coitus and/or orgasm, but the full range of interpersonal and self-stimulatory possibilities. Eroticism is related, but not limited, to sexual activity, including meanings and representations that are intended to arouse sexual interest or that otherwise contain a sexual charge.

Sexual identities, meanings, and politics are more difficult to define. While sexual identities are popularly defined by choice of sexual partner (e.g. heterosexual, homosexual, pederast, etc.), we define them more broadly to include any situation where sexual practices or meanings contribute to the construction of personal or group identity. The term ‘sexual meaning’ provides a way to discuss how objects or situations reference sexuality; for example, in this volume, Wilkie (Chapter 7) and Meskell (Chapter 14) both consider how childbirth and child-rearing can be infused with sexual meanings in specific cultural contexts. Finally, we define sexual politics as systems which link sexual relations to other power-based cultural relationships and organizations.

While we find these definitions useful in our research, these apparently neat distinctions between biological sex, gender, and sexuality are actually quite problematic. For example, while many feminist and queer studies scholars have used the distinction between biological sex and cultural genders and sexual identities in order to ‘dispute the biology-is-destiny formulation’ (Butler 1990: 6), this distinction can mistakenly give the impression that biological sex is a blank slate upon which culture inscribes gender or sexuality. It is important to remember that the characteristics which we perceive as biological traits are in fact culturally perceived and selected through gender ideology (e.g. Delphy 1993). Naming a part of the body as ‘genitalia’ presupposes sexual meaning. It is inappropriate to use biology to separate any aspect of sexuality from culture a point to which we will return in our discussion of sex essentialism.

Likewise, the relationship between gender and sexuality is not straightforward. As Rubin has argued, in many modern societies it is necessary to separate gender and sexuality analytically to adequately understand either: ‘although sex and gender are related, they are not the same thing, and they form the basis of two distinct arenas of social practice’ (Rubin 1984: 308). The goal of the archaeologist must be to understand the dynamics of biological sex, gender and sexuality, individually where possible and appropriate, as well as in concert, and to characterize the mechanisms and boundaries of their influences and interactions within the social contexts under investigation. Thus the terms we employ should be situationally chosen and explicitly defined to fit the cultural context and research questions being addressed. They should provide a lexicon which will allow sexuality to become visible, rather than be hidden within narratives of gender and biological sex.

THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL PROBLEM:SEX ESSENTIALISM,SEX NEGATIVITY, THE SEX HIERARCHY, AND LASCIVIOUS TREATMENT OF SEXUALITY

Having defined our terms, we now turn to a central point: why haven’t archaeologists usually discussed sexuality in their interpretations of the past? Certainly, no archaeologist would deny that sexual activity happened among the diverse historical populations which we study. But for the most part, sexuality is not explicitly addressed in archaeological research. Before we can begin to develop archaeological studies of sexuality, we must first understand why sexuality has been traditionally neglected.

In her influential article, ‘Thinking Sex’, Rubin (1984) provides a useful starting point for addressing this question. Rubin identifies several axioms, or ideological formations, within Western discourses which inhibit the development of unbiased investigations of sexuality and the erotic. We have identified four tendencies in archaeological research which parallel the general axioms identified by Rubin. Challenging these underlying axioms is necessary before the project of investigating sexuality in archaeological pasts can begin.

Sex essentialism

The axiom which we believe most greatly influences archaeological research is sex essentialism:‘the idea that sex is a natural force that exists prior to social life and shapes institutions. Sexual essentialism is embedded in the folk wisdoms of Western societies, which consider sex to be eternally unchanging, asocial, and transhistorical’ (Rubin 1984:
275). Because of sex essentialism, many archaeologists believe that sexuality is not a cultural phenomenon, and therefore it is treated as a constant rather than as a historical and cultural variable. As a result, archaeologists have usually subsumed sexuality within interpretationsof institutions such as marriage or kinship. Sexuality itself has remained unexamined, a biological given which is channeled, but not affected, by culture.

But this position which is usually implicitly assumed rather than explicitly adopted – is untenable under examination. For example, archaeologists recognize that subsistence practices and foodways are grounded in biological functions, but they would be appalled if anyone suggested that human subsistence practices are therefore unchanging, trans-historical, and pre-social. Even nutritional ‘needs’ cannot be separated from cultural perceptions and guidelines. So too must sexuality, even in its most biological moments, be understood within a cultural context. Human expressions of sexuality are therefore historical and are an appropriate and productive subject of archaeological investigations. A social constructionist approach to sexuality (discussed below) allows archaeologists to examine the interface between biology and those social, cultural, and historical factors which influence how sexuality has been constructed in the past and present.

Sex negativity

While we believe that sex essentialism is the primary reason why archaeologists have avoided sexuality in their research, sex negativity has also contributed to this lack. ‘Western cultures generally consider sex to be a dangerous, destructive, negative force . . . sex is presumed guilty until proven innocent. Virtually all erotic behavior is considered bad unless a specific reason to exempt it has been established’ (Rubin 1984: 278). Many scholars are thus hesitantto discuss sexuality in their research, either through personal reluctance or through concern for their careers and social standing (Newton 1993; Vance 1991). Even researchers who are enthusiastic about sexuality studies in archaeology encounter institutional barriers: for example, when choosing the cover art and other illustrations for this volume, we were advised to consider that many countries have legal restrictions on the import and dissemination of sexually-explicit images. Such restrictions pose real barriers to the dissemination of archaeological data and interpretations of sexuality. The effects of both social and legal constraints on sexuality studies have affected archaeology as much as any other discipline.

Sex hierarchies

An outgrowth of sex negativity and sex essentialism is a hierarchical value scale which pervades treatment of sexuality within Euro-American societies. Sex acts are appraised ‘according to a hierarchical system’ in which monogamous marital sex for the purpose of reproduction has the highest valuation, with other sexual manifestations falling below this pinnacle (Rubin 1984: 279). Within archaeology, the unconscious effect of this value scale is that sexuality, when discussed, is usually only mentioned in reference to heterosexual marriage. When evolutionary theory informs archaeological studies, this hierarchy is modified to emphasize reproductively successful sex acts, because they are the only ones that contribute to the long-term genetic development of the population being studied. Either way, sex hierarchies lead archaeologists to prioritize reproductive heterosexuality, what Abelove has called ‘penis in vagina, vagina around penis, with seminal emission uninterrupted’(Abelove 1989: 126), at the expense of non-reproductive and non-heterosexual sexual expressions.

The debilitating effects of sex hierarchies are apparent in archaeological research.
Archaeological data viewed through this lens have been distorted to preserve the ideologicalsex hierarchy valued within dominant Euro-American ideologies. For example, Larco Hoyle has asserted without supporting evidence that depictions of same-sex sexual acts on prehistoric Moche and Chimú pottery served as symbolic warnings against engaging in homosexual behavior (Vasey 1998: 412). Likewise, Kauffmann Doig acknowledges that these same ceramics include large numbers (in both the absolute and relative sense) of representations of non-procreative sexual acts, including heterosexual anal intercourse and fellatio, yet he argues that the ceramics’ production and use was related to a fertility cult (1979). Our point is not to single out these two studies, but to emphasize that the sexual hierarchy embedded within our cultural background can hinder us from seeing sexual variabilityin the past. Further, when such sexual variability is uncontrovertibly documented in archaeological evidence, as in the examples above, archaeologists have been likely to generate value-laden interpretations which more accurately reflect their own sexual mores than those of past cultures.

Lascivious treatment of sexuality

While the first three axioms we have discussed have served as barriers to addressing sexualityin archaeological research, a final problem, that of lascivious treatment of sexuality, does not prohibit discussion of sexuality per se. Instead, lascivious treatments of sexuality are used to both trivialize and exaggerate the relationships between sexuality and other aspects of culture. Archaeologists are probably most familiar with this phenomenon in the so-called ‘popular press’, where it is not uncommon for journalists or authors to isolate individual artifacts or representations and promote them as pornographic. Many readers are also probably familiar with the tourist-driven market for postcards and other merchandise which reproduce archaeologically discovered images of erect penises, breasts, or sex acts.

Yet lascivious treatment of archaeological materials is not limited to the popular market. Most common, perhaps, is the sexualized treatment of representations of nude or partially clothed bodies, which may not have had sexual or pornographic connotations in their original cultural context. For example, some researchers have suggested that the so-called ‘Venus figurines’ from the...

Table of contents

• COVER PAGE
• TITLE PAGE
• COPYRIGHT PAGE
• FIGURES
• TABLES
• CONTRIBUTORS
• ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
• CHAPTER ONE: ARCHAEOLOGIES OF SEXUALITY: AN INTRODUCTION
• PART I: WHERE IT HAPPENS: STRUCTURED SPACE AND SEX
• PART II: THE STUFF OF SEX: MATERIAL CULTURE AND SEXUALITY
• PART III: SEXUAL IDENTITIES, SEXUAL POLITICS
• PART IV: THE SEXUAL GAZE: REPRESENTATION AND IMAGERY