Reviews


Seely, Mark. 2012.  Born Expecting the Pleistocene:  Psychology and the Problem of Civilization (OldDog Books).

            An epistemic inverted pyramid will be useful to interpret this review.  The earlier parts are the most important, and the later parts may be cast aside as peanut shells upon which one might have choked.  Born Expecting the Pleistocene (BEP) will appear cogent and well organized to people who do not know Mark Seely.  To the rest of us, he is most articulately expressed at semi-regular 11:10 central time Tuesday lunches, pesticide-ridden lute jam sessions in moderately open (by melted glacier basin standards) grass fields, radon infused basement strawberry wine sipping fetes and the occasional sloe gin on the rocks conversation at an establishment replete with taxidermy, of all things.  The jacket illustration of a sculpture by Bonnie Zimmer photographed by Juan Carlos Rodriguez matches his quotidian standards of articulation.  Unlike Dr. Seely, and this review in its original left hand smudge cursive,  BEP is typeset and bound.  Much is lost in translation.
            Yet the argument emerges clearly on pages ix, 1 and 2:  Those who read bound typeset are hardwired via millions of years of genetic and environmental experience for foraging, freedom, physical activity, rich spirituality, small groups of fifty or fewer, egalitarian relationships, awe of nature and peace.  In the past ten thousand years, the accident of civilization’s complex machinery has torn us away from our pre-pastoral lebenswelt by removing us from nature, diminishing our relationships and coercing us to chase artificial goals (BEP, pp. 5, 29).   We may be tempted to think of civilization as progress, but progress has a goal (BEP, p. 25), unlike civilization.  We may be tempted to think, hey, wait, cavemen had weapons, too, but a fascinating analysis of the distinction between tools and technology (BEP, 85-ff) reminds us that one person shapes a tool to achieve specific life necessities while many people shape technologies no one really understands which exist for no particular reason. 
            The analysis is as convincing as other important critiques of civilization, including those by Robert Dahl, Charles Tilly, Sidney Tarrow, Robert Putnam, Michel Foucault and Antonio Gramsci.  Any points of contention with the analysis are foundational, touching on the most important assumptions in the social sciences and humanities.  I will point out one such moment on pages 3 and 4.  Seely’s analysis of Enkidu, a character from Gilgamesh is the subject of literate history’s oldest contentious claim--whose vision arrived first as to the original form of human organization, and what happened to the person who first experienced it.  The answers available seem to be available only from the also-rans of human experience.  Sumer’s intelligentsia says Enkidu was running around with the wild animals and had to be seduced with the arts of lovemaking to see things the Sumerian way.  Hebrews say, no, he was the same as all of us herders, but his name was Enoch, and one day he just walked away with God.  We do not really have a scripted story to tell us of Enochidu’s wild ass of a man origins, or perhaps the written accounts from others lost something in the translation.
            The final discussion of resistance in BEP is necessarily vague, though there must be a method for bringing this to more clarity, hopefully in another typeset, bound artifact.  I suggest Seely analyze historical case studies where resistance has created a probability for progress alongside cases where resistance has not created a greater probability for progess to better equip us to create opportunities through others’ creativity and lack thereof.  I will quibble with one issue that does not detract from Seely’s convincing work, but perhaps will enable readers to avoid chasing after holy gourds and sandals.  The question of the possibility of nonviolent versus violent means (BEP, p. 178) seems an irrelevant issue, but perhaps some detailed case studies could allow others to arrive at the same conclusions by historical analogy.  Recommended for undergraduates (especially my 20 year old son, and also for my 22 year old son if he would stop surfing awhile and read) and above.

Review by David E. Dixon, May 9, 2012.