Recently, more than ever, Mesoamericanists have had reason to share in the regret felt by Egyptologists at one aspect of the history of antiquities-looting in Egypt - one clearly tinged with tragic irony. For, as Brian Fagan (1975: 11, 261) and others have pointed out, attempts to remove sculpture from ancient Egyptian sites on a large scale began only in the 1820s, and that was just the period when Champollion was achieving his basic decipherment of Egyptian hieroglyphic writing. Since the coveted basrelief sculptures usually had to be prised from their settings by using chisels and crowbars, any associated hieroglyphic inscriptions tended to end up in smithereens. Champollion himself, as he travelled through Egypt seeking and transcribing texts, became appalled at the destruction, yet more than half a century would pass before collectors and museums came to recognize the damage they were causing through their purchases.

Excavation of a new Classical shipwreck, off the east coast of Siciliy, has provided the first find of a Roman surgeon's kit from a marine context.

A new suggestion is made for early hominids' interest in stones, and thence for the origin of stone tools.

The obvious English-language literature on the early civilizations of the Ancient East gives less attention than it might to the northern aspects, towards central Asia. Here, one of the leading researchers in Soviet Central Asia reviews an important new French book on the Iranian plateau and its inter-relations.

The current campaign to return to Athens the Parthenon sculptures that have been in the British Museum since the early 19th century highlights the profoundly dual nature of Greek architectural and sculptural heritage, as emblems of both Greek and global attachment. Classical relics in particular have become symbols of Greek attachment to the homeland; underscoring links between past and present, they confirm and celebrate Greek national identity. Other elements of Greek heritage – language, literature, religion, folklore – likewise lend strength to this identity, but material remnants of past glories, notably temples and sculptures from the times of Phidias and Praxiteles, assume an increasingly important symbolic role (Cook 1984; Hitchens 1987).

The complete decipherment of Mayan glyphs is an event that neither we, nor perhaps our children, shall ever see: the script is tortuously complicated, as many hieroglyphic writing systems are, and hardly susceptible to rapid and unequivocal ‘codebreaking’. Nevertheless, good progress has been made towards reading the glyphs, with many solid achievements in reconstructing the genealogies and political interaction of royal dynasties of the Classic period (e.g. Berlin 1959; Proskouriakoff 1960). The focus of the present paper is another, more controversial feature of Mayan glyphs: a set of ‘phonetic’ or syllabic units used in spelling Mayan words. Virtually all glyph specialists now accept the validity of these units, but the path to consensus has been difficult and acrimonious. We shall examine here why many good scholars resisted ‘phoneticism’ in Mayan script, and why additional evidence so impressively confirms its existence.

After many years new research is being undertaken into the prehistory of the islands of Malta at the invitation of the Maltese authorities. One of the early results of the work, started in 1987, is the discovery of evidence for domestic architecture to complement the already well known ritual monuments of the Maltese islands.

Many of the great sites–from Mycenae to Mesa Verde – now present problems of management that derive in part from the centuries or decades that have passed since first decisions were made as to how they should be presented. The Alta petroglyphs provide the opportunity of a ‘greenfield’ site whose archaeological resources can be planned for display on a clear new slate, as well as political aspects of a kind increasingly apparent everywhere.

The remarkable progress since 1960 in the decipherment of Maya inscriptions has created unique opportunities for interpretation. The Classic period (AD 250–900) Maya, who for half a century had been interpreted almost entirely from archaeological evidence, have suddenly become an historical civilization. Archaeological data and models can now be combined with and cross-checked against the Maya’s own dynastic records. New data have accumulated so rapidly, however, that communication between specialists in different realms of Maya studies has not kept pace. To stimulate communication, the School of American Research in Santa Fe, New Mexico, sponsored a seminar in October 1986 that brought together a group of epigraphers, art historians and archaeologists to share their data, expertise and divergent approaches. This article will summarize the parts of the seminar that bear upon political history. My debt to the ten colleagues† who participated in the seminar is very great. The experience was genuinely collegial and whatever contribution our efforts make to Maya studies will be the result of the interplay of ideas and viewpoints that we established during our week together.

In the 2nd century AD Pausanias (i.2.4-15.1) walked through the agora at Athens describing some of the statues and naming the artists; at least 35 of the statues were of bronze, yet not a single one survives intact today (Mattusch 1982: 8-9). Thinking only of the extant marble sculpture does an injustice to the civic art of Athens. This problem is commonplace; almost any classical site has numerous stone bases for bronze statues which have long gone into the melting-pot. Yet so often in modern scholarship stone sculpture is given a privileged position. Although modern histories of Greek art pay much attention to the marble sculpture of the Parthenon, ancient authorities were not so impressed; Pausanias (i.24.5-7) provides the briefest of descriptions to the marble sculpted pediments and omits to mention the frieze. For many scholars today the frieze has become an example of what ‘unlimited money can do’ (Ashmole 1972: 116), yet, as R. Osborne has recently pointed out, it merely helped the viewer to process to the east end of the temple where he or she would have been confronted by the great chryselephantine cult-statue of Athena: ‘this is what the temple was built to display, this is the object towards which worship is directed, and this is what the procession was all about’ (Osborne 1987: 101). And this is what Pausanias describes in detail, the great work of art and expression of Athens’ wealth which no longer survives.

Cornish gabbroic pottery has one of the more distinctive British petrological signatures and a remarkable distribution in space and time. Here recent developments are reviewed and some misconceptions corrected

Despite decades of extensive study of ancient Maya ceramics, a few basic questions still vex the archaeologist: What were the actual uses of the distinct types of Maya vessels? How can we determine the precise function of some pottery forms? How can we understand the classification the Maya themselves had for their pots? This brief note, using a recently-discovered vessel from Río Azul, Guatemala, as an illustration, will show that such questions can be addressed using combined data from different analytical approaches. Here I also wish to emphasize the notion that some of the most important sources of information on these issues are the hieroglyphic texts painted or carved on numerous Maya ceramics.

Chartres is made of stone and glass. But it is not just stone and glass; it is a cathedral, and not only a cathedral, but a particular cathedral built at a particular time by certain members of a particular society. To understand what it means, to perceive it for what it is, you need to know rather more than the generic properties of stone and glass and rather more than what is common to all cathedrals. You need to understand also – and, in my opinion, most critically – the specific concepts of the relations among God, man and architecture that, since they have governed its creation, it consequently embodies. (Geertz 1973: 50.)

The oldest road, in the narrow sense of a built way across difficult ground, seems to be the Neolithic Sweet Track in the English Somerset Levels. But what about the oldest road, in the larger sense ofa long-distance highway with staging posts, its essential purpose in the need to administer a large empire? Here seems to be that oldest highway, astonishingly visible on the ground, as Dr Sevin's illustrations show.

A note on Long Meg and her Daughters, the monolith and stone circle in Cumberland,

provides excuse to quote both Stukeiey on the whole: ‘A great Celtic temple’; and Wordsworth on Long Meg herself: Speak Thou, whose massy strength and stature scorn The power of years - pre-eminent, and placed Apart, to overlook the circle vast Speak, Giant-Mother!

More to the point, these new findings from air photography report new field monuments to with the standing circle and the second circle that Stukeley drew, and require a reappraisal of the Neolithic to Eariy Bronze Age monuments in Cumbria.

Greek society was changing rapidly in the 8th century BC. The archaeological record reveals population growth, increasing political complexity, artistic experiments and a strong interest in the past. Because these processes resemble those at work in early modern Italy, the period has often been referred to as the ‘Greek renaissance’ (e.g. Ure 1922; Hägg 1983a; cf. Burke 1986). This paper is about the glorification of the past in the 8th century, and its relationship to the rise of the polis, the Greek city state. I concentrate on one particular phenomenon, the spread of cults at tombs dating to the Mycenaean period (c. 1600-1200 BC). I argue that the common renaissance analogy has limited value, and that the 8thcentury Greeks created a past narrowly focussed on the persons of powerful ancient beings, from whom they could draw authority in the social upheavals which came about as the loose, aristocratic societies of the ‘Dark Age’ (c. 1200-750 BC) were challenged. Tomb cults go back at least to 950 BC, but after 750 they were redefined and used as a source of power in new ways. I have adapted my subtitle from Maurice Bloch’s well-known paper ‘The past and the present in the present’ (1977), where he argues that rituals bring the past into the present to form a system of cognition mystifying nature and preserving the social order. The argument here is slightly different. I stress the variety of the cults and the range of meanings they must have had, making their recipients highly ambiguous figures. The same cults could simultaneously evoke the new, relatively egalitarian ideology of the polis and the older ideals of heroic aristocrats who protected the grateful and defenceless lower orders, while standing far above them. Bloch's paper borrowed Malinowski’s idea of culture as a ‘long conversation’; developing the analogy, I look at the multiple meanings which any statement in such a conversation may have for the different actors.

The revelations in the study of the Ancient Maya made possible by the revolution in hieroglyphic decipherment have not occurred in isolation. Archaeological investigations within the last three decades have produced a much broader vision of Maya society during the Classic Period than previously possible. Particularly, the study of settlement patterns in conjunction with environmental studies has opened new vistas onto the size and organization of the populations which supported the rulers in their civic-ceremonial centres (Ashmore 1981; Culbert & Rice n.d.). The challenge for the present, and future, is to combine the archaeological record with the studies of inscriptions and politico-religious symbolism, to build a more complete and incisive reconstruction of the past. Where the two records are particularly clear and abundant, we may also aspire to explaining the past.