Fields of multiplicity

July 19, 1981. Michael H. Jameson records an entry in the ‘verification team’ log for the Argolid Exploration Project. He has stopped on a low ridge along a road from the village of Ilio. The road, little more than a dirt track, continues north. It crosses a low saddle covered in cereal fields set in wide terraces with dispersed olives and passes just east of the southeastern tower of a fortification known simply as Kastro. Whether Jameson is sitting or standing I do not know, but from where he writes, the southern wall of the Kastro is a couple hundred meters to the north.

At first, a conspicuous ‘conical or, rather, pyramidal’ limestone peak at the center of the fortification in the distance draws his attention. He then notes a number of worked blocks of red, heavily marbled limestone close by. These are visible, partially exposed both in and on either side of the road. Some are reused in the nearby terraces. In anticipating the survey transects planned for the day, Jameson suggests that the area of which he writes ‘is connected to the Kastro by continuous settlement.’

After contemplating the lie of the land he begins the first transect at the southeast tower. Anne Demitrack and Dan Pullen accompany Jameson as they sweep west in a parallel orientation to the southern fortification wall. Jameson details the progression of the transect in the notebook.

At 50m they encounter the base of a black figure krater. Mark Munn, who is surveying the orthogonally planned settlement just north of the wall, identifies the base as late 5th, early 4th century. A diagnostic ceramic fragment, the sherd is immediately tagged ‘no. 3016.’

The team continues west. Jameson notes the presence of large Corinthian roof tile fragments. Upon reaching the southwest tower of the wall the trio turn back on a second sweep in the opposite direction. They walk a few meters south of the previous transect. At 70m from the turn: a black figure handle, ‘worn, with central rib,’ an elliptical grindstone fragment, and a weathered kylix stem, Classical in date. 10 to 15m to the south are ‘two more grindstone fragments, one elliptical, one with right angle.’ After noting these, they continue walking to the southeast.

In all, the area south of Kastro would be scrutinized by three such meandering survey transects (refer to Figure 4.6). Their aim was to ‘establish limits of occupation’ in both space and time. In July of 1981, this mode of engagement involved the documentation of materials on the surface and the collection of things worthy of further study in the lab. The course of these actions on the ground is narrated, and the materials encountered are referenced, through a combination of text, 1:5000 maps, sketch plans, paper tags marked with the numbers ‘3015—3019’ and select examples of the things collected from the surface.

These relationships to the Kastro are ‘iterative.’ Alexandros Filadhelfevs reported excavating potential Late Helladic graves in the area in 1907 (Filadhelfevs 1909; cf. Jameson, Runnels and van Andel 1994, 521). Jameson visited the site in the spring of 1954 in the course of his earlier topographical and epigraphical work in the southern Argolid. Richard Hope Simpson claims to have found LHIII sherds on the slopes west of the Kastro in 1959. Members of the AEP visited in area in 1972 and again in 1980.

Each of these events whether inscribed in publication or notebook or related verbally structure the archaeological practices at the site on the 19th of July 1981 (cf. Jameson, Runnels and van Andel 1994, 519-521). In each subsequent engagement the archaeological relationship to the site is modified. In each, different knowledge, instruments, materials and media are mobilized. Each case, one might say, involved a new collective of people and things. And, in each engagement these practitioners focused on different aspects of the Kastro. Yet all these performances both on the ground and in subsequent study contribute to our knowledge of the predominately Classical to Hellenistic settlement at Kastro.

Denoted as ‘G2’ by the Argolid Exploration Project (AEP), the Kastro is likely the Eileoi referenced by Pausanias (2.34.6). The features and things on the ground along with the skills, technical innovations, knowledge, instruments and media deployed as well as the rich cascades of other documents—Pausanias 2.34.6; Filadhelfevs 1909; Jameson, notebook 1954; AEP, grey notebook 1972; AEP, verification log 1981 and so on—all come together in the iterative practices of surface survey as part of a larger process of knowledge construction with regard to landscape. Such items and events, elements situated within a complex web of relations, will constitute the multiple fields of this dissertation.

A general model of practice
This dissertation attends to the articulation of landscape in the Mediterranean and Peloponnesus in particular. Building on the groundbreaking work in regional survey by the Argolid Exploration Project (Jameson, Runnels and van Andel 1994; Runnels, Pullen and Langdon 1995; Sutton 2000; van Andel and Runnels 1987) and complementing recent attempts to bypass divisions of theory and practice in fieldwork (e.g. Andrews, Barrett, and Lewis 2000; Hodder 1999 and 2000; Lucas 2001b; Shanks 1992; Tilley, Bender and Hamilton 1998) an attempt is made to re-characterize archaeology’s relationship to its fields of study. Its aim is two-fold. First, this dissertation sketches a general model of practice, which accounts for the action, richness and complexity of the material past, as well as archaeology’s iterative relationship to it. Second, it provides a series of new articulations of landscape in both digital and paper-based media. In working toward these aims an effort is made to avoid presupposed oppositions in the relations between people and things. This effort extends to understanding past and present as a multi-temporal mixture. Concomitantly, an emphasis is placed on manifesting qualities of the material past often filtered out by conventional modes of documentation.

These general aims raise a number of more specific questions. What parts do things—whether materials, instruments or media—play in the process of knowledge construction? How is the past, often regarded as distant and distinct, actually wrapped up in this process? Likewise, how might we understand material pasts as performing active roles in our very practices? Given these questions, how might we situate archaeology in relation to its fields of study? Moreover, in pushing the envelope of material engagement and articulation, how are we to address wider sensory qualities of the material world? Besides historical narratives of long-term change, what other stories of the material past are we to convey on a regional scale?

In addressing these aims and questions this dissertation builds upon the contexts, practices and research of the Argolid Exploration Project (Jameson 1976; Jameson, Runnels and van Andel 1994; Runnels, Pullen and Langdon 1995; Sutton 2000; van Andel and Runnels 1987). Whether components of a territorial dispute in the early 2nd century B.C.E., connections articulated by Pausanias in the 2nd century C.E., the remaining structural fabric of ancient Hermion, the maps employed by later topographers or the survey transects walked by the Argolid Exploration Project members, such locales, features, events and media will constitute the foci of this study. In gathering together such a diverse variety of materials associated with the multiple pasts of the southern Argolid, a region covering 225 km2, the dissertation draws on a combination of approaches to landscape developed out of the chorographical and topographical traditions (e.g. Curtius 1851 and 1852; Gell 1810; Leake 1830 and 1846; Puillon de Boblaye 1836; Miliarakis 1886; Pritchett 1965) and the innovative practices of modern surface survey (e.g. Alcock 1993; Bintliff and Snodgrass 1985; Cherry, Davis, and Mantzourani 1991; Davis 1998; Mee and Forbes 1997; Snodgrass 1987).

This study’s basic premise in reworking previous survey materials, as part of a larger concern with the articulation of landscape, is that archaeological projects once published are far from closed, airtight ‘black boxes.’ They need to be reopened and expanded, re-animated and re-articulated. Given the multiplicity and complexity of the material past on a landscape scale there is always more to be done. Such iterative research complements recent work by both The Laconia Rural Sites Project and The Pylos Regional Archaeological Project (Cavanagh, Mee and James 2005; and Davis 1998, respectively). But this work involves far more than the reconsideration of the interpretations to be found in the final publication. Such an expansion of archaeological goals is necessary because an entire process of material collection, analysis and inscription rests between the material world and the final publication (Latour 1999, 24-79). As the topic here is the articulation of landscape, there are long and complex chains of transformation to be addressed. Indeed, it is in the process of revisiting and reworking previous archaeological projects that we avoid repetition and produce new knowledge. As such, the well-documented transformation of landscape practices over the last 2 centuries (with Michael Jameson’s work covering more than the last 50 years), the richness of the AEP survey coverage and the intimate detail of its archive all make the southern Argolid an excellent case for addressing these aims and questions.

The methodological apparatus of this dissertation draws on technoscience studies and empirical philosophy as it focuses in on the survey process. This project is an ontological one. As such, emphasis is placed on the roles of instruments and media in shaping our practices in real-time. In tracing archaeological relationships with mundane ‘objects,’ the dissertation follows a symmetrical approach to people and things (e.g. Callon and Latour 1992; Latour 1994; Olsen 2003; also refer to Shanks 2004; and Yarrow 2003). Through the application of the principle of symmetry it attends, not to how people get on in the world, but rather to how a collective, an entanglement of humans and things, negotiates a complex web of interactions with a diversity of other entities.

These aims place certain demands upon the reader. In avoiding the conceptual pitfalls of dualist (modernist) thought a different vocabulary is deployed. This is because oppositions between subject and object or nature and culture are the outcome of relations between various entities rather than what occurs in practice. This thought when directed toward the material past presupposes such divisions. A symmetrical vocabulary, in contrast, treats humans and ‘nonhumans’ in the same terms. But this terminological leveling is analytical as distinguished from ethical or axiological, which it is not. In what follows of this introduction I address the objectives necessary in attaining these aims and layout the structure of this dissertation in brief.

Multiple fields
The notion of ‘the field’ in archaeology conventionally refers to the locus of excavation or survey (e.g. Drewett 1999; Renfrew and Bahn 2000; Roskams 2001; Wheeler 1956). As the ‘where’ of data collection, ‘the field’ is often situated in contraposition to the supposed contexts of analysis and interpretation whether laboratories, archives or studies (here refer to Lucas 2001b, 10-14; Berggren and Hodder 2003, 427-28; with regard to gender, Gero 1994; in the context of anthropology, Gupta and Ferguson 1997). Rather than consider the material world as demarcated and distinct, as ‘the field’ out there, as an ‘object’ of a detached and distanced archaeological gaze, this dissertation follows the movement of the material world through various translations—as media or various materials—and through an number of locales. It treats archaeological practice as entangled with the things on the ground. In so doing it suggests that archaeology is both shaped by the material past it wishes to remain separate from and is itself a transformative process to be chronicled as part of the stories of the Greek countryside. These very activities require a reconfiguration of the dualistic (modernist) notion of ‘the field.’

To this end, a concept of ‘multiple fields’ is developed, quite literally from the ground up. In situating archaeological practice, the concept of ‘multiple fields’ carries a dual valence. First it refers to the recursive linkages implicated in one’s practice on the ground, in the Greek countryside. In other words, the fields correspond to all the necessary components of the ‘sociotechnical network,’ which situates practice throughout its various stages of iteration. As detailed through the case of the military geographer, Colonel William Martin Leake, this network may be populated by military institutions, skills and knowledge, politics, financial organizations, learned societies, materials, instruments, media (including the texts of Pausanias or Strabo), and the like. Each of these fields has a stake in Leake’s topographical engagements with the Greek countryside. Each of these fields is embedded in Leake’s practice.

In its second sense, ‘multiple fields’ counters the overly simplistic notion of correspondence between language and the material world (e.g. James 1978; Preucel and Bauer 2001). As such, multiple fields refer to the series of steps present in the translation of the material world into the final publication. In this respect, ‘the field’ is dispersed along the chain of transformation present between the area south of the Kastro surveyed by the Argolid Exploration Project and pages 519-521 of A Greek Countryside (Jameson, Runnels and van Andel 1994). By focusing on what archaeologists do on the ground rather than what they say they do, we recognize that ‘the field’ is not simply ‘out there’ because the things gathered from the surface move through other contexts of study. They circulate far and wide through their constant substitutions (notebooks, catalog numbers, illustrations, photographs, etc.). Whether courseware ceramic fragments, bits of millstone or obsidian cores, these things eventually exist as material guarantors of an engagement, such as that which took place on July 19, 1981, on shelves in an archive.

Multiple fields, then, cover a combination of components, contexts and connections. They play out over the course of a survey project such as the AEP. Whether the surface of an overgrown cereal field in the Ermioni kambos, ceramic wash buckets and pottery sorting tables or 19th century innovations, the National Endowment for the Humanities and Stanford University, all are the fields that feed into archaeological practice and play a part in its direction today.

Instruments and media
In contrast to a linear (laminar) history, my project is a genealogical one. While intended to be a contribution to the histories of archaeology (in the vein of Marchand 1996; Morris 1994 and 2000, 37-46; Schnapp 1997; Shanks 1996; Stoneman 1987; Thomas 2004b), this project is neither restricted to the key personages of, nor the intellectual movements within, the discipline. Rather it details archaeological relations with seemingly mundane instruments and media. As such it marks the entry point of innovations, which shift the modes of engagement of such key practitioners with regard to the Greek countryside.

William Martin Leake, to once more offer his case as an example, devised a template to standardization—the right combination of text, map and plan—that subsequent practitioners could replicate in the articulation of landscape. Once in place, the practices of Mark Munn and Tom Boyd implemented in the survey of the Kastro on a hot summer day in 1981 bear striking resemblance to those deployed by Leake in the context of military geography at the turn of the 19th century. Before Colonel Leake, no one approached sites with the same combination of text, map and instrument that is the basis of standard practice today. With Leake a new collective was introduced into the documentation of sites in Greece.

The instruments and media mobilized by archaeologists in practice, tie us intimately to the acts which enrolled these things in the first place. The presence of a theodolite or compass connects those who work with them to events that transpired at a spacio-temporal distance. In the case of survey archaeology in Greece, these events occurred in the context of British and French military geography in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Through these instruments the past has action in our practices now. Without their presence, Munn and Boyd would not have approached the fortification walls of the Kastro in the way they did over 20 years ago. Were they absent, there would be no archaeology, no science.

Beyond the example of Leake, this dissertation contains two other case studies from 19th century—the survey carried out under the French Expédition Scientifique de Morée (1829-1831) and the development of photography in Classical archaeology. Both cases, it is argued, were central not only for the establishment of accurate modes of witnessing monuments, landscapes and even local people, but also for the development of the core media and instrumental mixtures which still characterize survey archaeology today (e.g. Cherry, Davis, and Mantzourani 1991, 28-35; Jameson, Runnels and van Andel 1994, 214-59; Mee and Forbes 1997, 33-56).

More specifically, with the French Expédition the discussion centers upon the act of production associated with the first accurate, ‘scientifically derived’ map of the Greek Peloponnesus. It is this flat, two-dimensional, 1:200,000 scale product of the French labors which forms the groundwork for the Greek ordinance map of the Peloponnesus (Lolling 1889, cxvi). As such, it becomes a key figure (yet another sense of the word) in later topographical and archaeological research in the Peloponnesus.

In the study of 19th century photography, emphasis is placed on further innovation and refinement of photographic equipment and print in archaeology. Photography as a rapid, faithful and detailed witness was critical both to the showing of the material world and to the shaping of archaeological practice. This argument is further detailed through examples from the practice of C.T. Newton, Alexander Conze, Heinrich Schliemann and Sir Flinders Petrie where photography played a primary role in mediating engagements with the material past.

In all, the dissertation emphasizes how these exchanges between people and things, which occurred at a spacio-temporal distance, are still ‘here and now,’ manifest through the presence of key instrumental or media components of the archaeological collective. As such, these pasts, which can extend even farther over the very long term, have action and continue to have a stake in contemporary archaeological practices today.

Manifesting presence
Much is encountered on the ground. Our understandings of a place are shaped differently depending on the combination of skills, knowledge, instruments and media one employs in their engagement. Pausanias (potentially), Filadhelfevs, Jameson, Hope Simpson, Munn, Boyd, and the present author, all engaged with the area of the Kastro in different ways. As disparate collectives of people and things each mode of engagement varied. The outcomes of these practices vary. And yet so much of the material world remains. How might we attend to the multiplicity of the material past in the wake of the accelerated changes occurring today?

At some point between the 1981 survey and 2003 a significant transformation occurred in the area south of Kastro. Large portions of ashlar masonry from the southern fortification wall and possibly various exposed structural features nearby were bulldozed into large, linear cairns. Fortunately we are left with Jameson’s notes and a map of the area compiled by Boyd and Munn (refer to Figure 4.7). But what of the other qualities of the material world sieved away in the process of engagement and inscription. What will archaeologists 20, 50, 100 years from now wish to take away from the area south of the Kastro now permanently transformed by a person-with-a-bulldozer?

The documentation of archaeological sites in the wake of larger processes of transformation is a classic matter of concern in the archaeology of Greece (e.g. Bintliff and Snodgrass 1985, 123-125; Davis 1998, xli-xliii; Jameson 1976; McDonald 1972, 13; Snodgrass 1987, 93-131). Archaeological media, it is argued, continue to be predominately centered upon 19th century scenographic modes. Particular combinations of text, image and plan, all born out of 19th century approaches to the documentation of places and things orient engagements with landscapes today as in the various iterative engagements with the Kastro. As media play such an important role in the construction of archaeological knowledge, much space is given over in this dissertation to shaping the concept of media as an on-going process. Media then are subsumed within a larger concept of mediation.

It is held, that there is much more to the understanding of the material world than meaning. Mediation therefore is on one level conceived as a broader process than simply making sense of the material world. Mediation transpires between multiple entities—previous engagements, theodolite, trowel, tape, notebook, camera, digital video recorder, site director, pottery specialist, whoever, whatever—and the outcome of these long and complex transactions is some mode of articulation.

Mediation, in a more focused sense, refers to manifesting aspects of the material world that are often sieved away by paper-based modes of documentation—the scenographic combination of text, map, plan and image discussed earlier (Witmore 2004). An argument is made for holding on to the multiplicities and presences of the material world as long as possible within the archaeological process. Moreover, what of the other senses, other aspects of one’s engagement on the ground, which are often stunted by visually dominated media? This project, allied with other experiential archaeologies (e.g. Barrett 1994; Shanks 1992; Tilley 1994 and 2004; Thomas 1996b), attempts to include in its analysis wider sensory engagements as well as other ineffable qualities—be they aural or tactile—of the material world, as matters of concern.

New media, it is suggested, constitute one path forward in attending to aspects of material presence (for other complimentary paths refer to: Olsen 2005; Pearson and Shanks 2001; Renfrew 2003; Shanks 2004). In deploying new media as modes of engagement with the Argolic countryside, links are forged with media art and new media studies, particularly the work of media artist Janet Cardiff (Christov-Bakargeiv 2002) and new media theorist Lev Manovich (2001). Several examples of new media are offered as modes of articulating the complexities of the material world. Indeed, these modes translate something of the sensory, physical presence of the material past. As such they constitute a means of at least suggesting more ineffable qualities of lived experience and therefore these new media serve as modes for addressing the ontology of things free from the constraints of text (Olsen 2005).

The multiple fields of landscape: a topology
A large portion of this dissertation attends to archaeology’s modes of engagement and articulation. This is because it documents archaeological practices, often, as previously suggested, regarded as distanced and detached from their ‘objects’ of study, as part of the stories of the southern Argolic countryside. As such archaeology becomes a process of transformation along side many others in the southern Argolid (cf. Lucas 2001a). But this work is an important subset of a larger ‘topological’ exercise. In closing, the dissertation rearticulates the landscapes of the southern Argolid by emphasizing the points of contact—the pleats and folds—between the multiple pasts that are present and have action today. While important links are forged with the landscape approaches of practitioners such as Susan Alcock, John Cherry and Jack Davis, leave is taken from the long-term histories of landscape characteristic of such approaches and which Jameson, Runnels and van Andel capture so well. Instead, a ‘topology’ of landscape is offered.

This dissertation wrestles with the way time is understood in the discipline. Archaeology has long treated the past as separate, demarcated and distinct (cf. Lucas 2005b, 1-31; Thomas 2004b). In this regard practitioners today are definitively divided from the past by scientific ruptures and epistemic shifts, which distance and delineate ‘us’ now from ‘others’ then (Latour 1993, 67-69). Because we have broken once and for all with the past, it is a locus to be protected and preserved (Lowenthal 1985). The past is an ‘object’ to be closed off and guarded behind the glass of the cabinet. In this regard time’s arrow is unambiguous and unidirectional. But time, it is suggested, is much more complex than this form of modernist historicism.

Time both passes and does not pass. It is turbulent. Time is like the weather. It is full of calms, whirlwinds, and chaotic fluctuations. Time percolates (refer to Serres 1995; Serres, with Latour 1995). In this rearticulation of the southern Argolid landscape the past is treated as no longer past. Something of it exists in the material here and now. It is accorded action and as such multiple pasts continue to shape people’s lives in a multiplicity of ways today (also refer to Olivier 2003).

Various portions of the ensemble of landscape date from different periods. In this way, landscape is a complex aggregate mixture of disparate times. In articulating this ensemble archaeologists can treat time as the sorter and situate each component in relation to another within a series of stacked boxes we call chronology. While the measurement of time is extremely important this is not time itself (Serres with Latour 1995, 60-61; also refer to Lucas 2005b). In contrast, one can treat the sorting as the maker of time and document the landscapes of the southern Argolid as the gathering of disparate times that they are. The latter is the reality of the material presence encountered on the ground.

The landforms date to millions of years ago and have transformed over this vast interim. A stone flake resting on the surface could have been chipped from a core around 50,000 years ago. Deposits on the cave floor at Franchthi can contain residues associated with a series of meals more than 10 millennia prior to its excavation. Where these diverse pasts meet, whether in the course of an excavation, during Pausanias’ journey from Eileoi to Hermion, in Sir William Gell’s references to his location in relation to the Periegesis, the moment Michael Jameson lifts a lithic flake from the surface (Bialor and Jameson 1962) or in the construction of a medieval house wall upon a monumental temenos line, one encounters pleats, twists and folds in time. Irrespective of the enormous temporal distances we maintain between these fields, their proximate, mutual presence affects one another. This complex blend of multiple times is documented through a topological study of landscape.

In contrast to the ordered and measured distances of an historical narrative over the long term, a topology plots the points where these pasts meet. While the former has a geometry like that found in a linear timeline on a flat piece of paper, the later would be analogous to a crumpled, tightly balled version of the same paper-based timeline. A topology, in this way, constitutes a mathematics of relations between various pasts. It constitutes a means of attending to the multitemporal presence manifest through texts, features, figurines, images, memories, ceramic fragments, and so on. All of these fields crisscross, intersect, and fold into the ensemble of the southern Argolid countryside. A topology maps these proximities. As such a topology establishes a means for synthesizing the material past of landscape with the practice of those ‘modern’ archaeologists, who normally position themselves as distant and detached, at the end of a long history of a region, as part of the multitemporal mixture—as part of the ensemble of the southern Argolid.

The structure of the dissertation
These issues twist and turn their way through five chapters. A conclusion opens further questions and suggests possible ways forward. Two appendices accompany these sections at the end and a full archive along with several new media case experiments are published as a hypertext ‘wiki’ which is available on the Internet.

Chapter 1 situates the dissertation project with respect to the discipline of archaeology. It does so in four sections. First it details the dualistic concept of ‘the field’ in archaeological fieldwork. Secondly and thirdly, it enumerates and contextualizes the problems found with the epistemology associated with both the empiricist/objectivist and interpretive schools of fieldwork. Finally, in suspending an interest in epistemology it lays out a symmetrical approach to archaeological practice.

Chapter 2 contains the three genealogical case studies of William Martin Leake, the French Expédition Scientifique de Morée (1829-1831) and 19th century photography. The first two case studies develop a set of concepts—‘multiple fields’ and ‘sociotechnical genealogy’—for understanding the relations between practice, instruments and media, which will be deployed throughout the dissertation. The third case study delves into the enrollment of photography in archaeological practice by C.T. Newton. Subsequently, it details the ways in which photography and the photographic image come to transform that very practice through a range of examples including the work of Schliemann, Conze, Curtius and Petrie. Each of these case studies serves to mark the expansion of the instrumental/media collective which is still with us today.

Chapter 3 details the archaeological process of the AEP and develops the core concepts around which this dissertation is built. In further cultivating the notion of ‘multiple fields,’ it addresses the disjuncture between what archaeologists do and what they say they do by focusing on AEP survey practice up close. From field walking and materials collecting to pottery washing and sorting to detailed comparative studies, the survey process is followed closely through its various steps. This section sets the tone for a discussion of the core concepts developed in this dissertation—media, mediation, as well as iterative and reiterative practice.

Building on these core concepts, chapter 4 opens a discussion of the action of digital media in relation to paper-based modes of articulation. It suggests that 19th scenographic modes continue to overwhelming orient practice through remediated digital forms. As such we have yet to realize the great variety of potentials for new media in archaeological practice. Casting off from this discussion, the chapter reflects upon the new media examples presented as part of this dissertation—social software, auditory archaeology, peripatetic video, and digital templates.

Chapter 5 is a topology of landscape and so brings all these methodological concerns together into a case study of the southern Argolid. It reworks the southern Argolid landscape through a series of connected fields made up of landforms, structural features, memories, materials, and various media. In so doing it presents multiple narratives which emphasize the pleats and folds in the ensemble of by the countryside following an erratic path of intimate association, course linkage and katachretic juxtaposition (on the empirical philosophy of katachresis refer to Shanks 2004, 152; Pearson and Shanks 2001, 25). Its purpose, in employing these strategies, is to do more than flush out the meanings of things. It aims to suggest something of the complexity of the Greek countryside on paper. It is an example of textual mediation.

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