The Invention of Prehistory: Empire, Violence, and Our Obsession with Human Origins, by Stefanos Geroulanos. New York, N.Y.: Liveright Publishing Corporation, 2024.
REVIEWED BY G. BUTLER
“Theories of our past have shaped history and the world we live in today”: this is the thesis of NYU history professor Stefanos Geroulanos in his book The Invention of Prehistory: Empire, Violence, and Our Obsession with Human Origins (3). The thesis is deceptively succinct; Geroulanos traces some 250 years of prehistory history over 400 pages, although his engaging style prevents it from becoming a slog. The Invention of Prehistory is broken up into four parts, each containing chapters dedicated to different theories of prehistory that arose during the specified time periods—part one covers the 1750s to the 1870s, part two is the 1830s to World War I, part three is 1900 to the 1960s, and part four is 1930 to the present. Although there is some chronological overlap between parts, the timeline never feels confused. Each part builds on ideas established previously to help the reader better understand correlations between past events.
Geroulanos cites primary sources of past theories of prehistory to connect them with the social and scholarly contexts of that time. For example, nations grappling with the horrors of war sought to explain violence through an inheritance of primal barbarism. Communists imagined a prehistory of shared resources within the first communities. Rising feminist movements introduced ideas of ancient matriarchal societies. When computer technology came into play, scientists posited that humans evolved because of their use of tools—in a chicken-or-the-egg scenario, tools came before modern man.
Different groups used their own ideas about prehistory to justify their causes. And through it all, ancient humans are caught in the crosshairs of the great contradiction: “the image of the original humans has been key to ideas of human perfection, and yet its most important effect has been dehumanization: of the rest of the world by the West, and of the West by itself” (399-400). If a certain race is close to these original humans, that might be evidence of their strength and ability to persist through the trials of the ages, a testament of their endurance and claim to the land on which they live. Or they might be subhuman, uncivilized, barely a step away from savagery and barbarism, needing someone more evolved to either lift them up into proper civilization or destroy them entirely. It depends on who is being talked about, and who is doing the talking.
For the most part, scientists do the talking, but a large degree of responsibility falls on museums as well. When ideas about prehistory have been used to justify colonialism, destructive nationalism, and genocide, it becomes critical to examine our institutional interpretations of prehistory. One might think themself safe if they lack any exhibits or collections dedicated to human evolution or ancient cultures—this is not the case. War, technology, modern culture and civilization, European and American history, sex and gender, family, economics, psychology, “third world” countries, art, animals and dinosaurs, even the future: these are all things that are potentially touched by notions of prehistory. Geroulanos writes that “archaeologists now rely on genetics, anthropology, cognitive science, gender studies, and economics as they do on archaeology”; the field is becoming increasingly complex (394). Any museum anywhere potentially contains either ideas about prehistory, or things that have resulted from those ideas. The Invention of Prehistory is an illuminating source that reveals these otherwise invisible links.
My main takeaway is that it is very difficult to get to the true heart of prehistory. Very little of it survives, and because the facts alone do not tell a satisfying story, we have to make up conjecture to fill in the gaps. Human nature is to ask questions—why did ancient people paint pictures in caves, what do they mean and what purpose did they serve? But we can only ask ourselves these questions. “The Neanderthals themselves say nothing. We arrange them into whatever position we need them to take” (2). The answers we imagine are generally a response to current social or political ideas.
What does this mean for museum work? Put simply: ideas about prehistory (and related subjects) have historically been developed at someone’s expense. And sometimes consciously, sometimes not, people use these ideas to inform everything from simple opinions about other cultures to complex issues of war, land rights, and genocide. Because museums have a role in shaping public opinion, we need to ask ourselves how our exhibits contribute to these ideas. Not if—how. We cannot create exhibits without some kind of underlying opinions. How do we go about this work responsibly?
Although Geroulanos mentions museums only a few times, The Invention of Prehistory is still a relevant read for those working within the museum and public history sectors. And while his proposed solution might seem unrealistic when considering human nature—essentially, he proposes leaving the past in the past and not using it to justify modern things—it also serves as an important reminder that what matters most is the present. Through his book, Geroulanos provides us with insightful connections between theories and actions, prepares us to examine these connections within our own modern context, and inspires us to work to shape our present-day world in a more equitable way.
G. Butler is a first year MA student in the IU Indianapolis Museum Studies Program.
