This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/jan/09/buried-treasures-grave-goods-to-inspire-michael-rosen-elegies

The article has changed 6 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 4 Version 5
Buried treasures: grave goods to inspire Michael Rosen elegies Buried treasures: grave goods to inspire Michael Rosen elegies
(11 days later)
Poet to write works inspired by mysterious objects – both grand and modest – found in ancient graves and kept at British Museum
Maev Kennedy
Tue 9 Jan 2018 14.17 GMT
Last modified on Tue 9 Jan 2018 22.00 GMT
Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Share via Email
View more sharing options
Share on LinkedIn
Share on Pinterest
Share on Google+
Share on WhatsApp
Share on Messenger
Close
Almost 2,000 years after a precious bronze mirror was buried at the hip of a woman in Dorset, the poet Michael Rosen stretched out his hand, protectively sheathed in a lurid purple plastic glove, to trace the delicate curves and swirls incised on its back.Almost 2,000 years after a precious bronze mirror was buried at the hip of a woman in Dorset, the poet Michael Rosen stretched out his hand, protectively sheathed in a lurid purple plastic glove, to trace the delicate curves and swirls incised on its back.
“It’s quite hypnotic,” he said in wonder. “You feel that it has meaning, that it has stories, that it is not just a static object. What was it to her, and what did she see in it?”“It’s quite hypnotic,” he said in wonder. “You feel that it has meaning, that it has stories, that it is not just a static object. What was it to her, and what did she see in it?”
In front of him, laid out in a study room deep within the British Museum, there were other objects of mystery from ancient graves – golden button-shaped plaques that lay on a woman’s breast in Orkney, a piece of amber, a piece of jet and beautifully worked stone beads.In front of him, laid out in a study room deep within the British Museum, there were other objects of mystery from ancient graves – golden button-shaped plaques that lay on a woman’s breast in Orkney, a piece of amber, a piece of jet and beautifully worked stone beads.
All the objects, and many others, are the subject of a unique research project on grave goods between the museum and Reading and Manchester universities, funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council.All the objects, and many others, are the subject of a unique research project on grave goods between the museum and Reading and Manchester universities, funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council.
The project is not intended to produce wordy documents to be shelved in academic libraries: it will be shared with the public including schoolchildren. Rosen – storyteller, poet and ferocious critic of serial governments on social and educational issues – has been invited to write three poems inspired by the objects.The project is not intended to produce wordy documents to be shelved in academic libraries: it will be shared with the public including schoolchildren. Rosen – storyteller, poet and ferocious critic of serial governments on social and educational issues – has been invited to write three poems inspired by the objects.
He was chosen not just as a great communicator, but a man acquainted with grief: his award-winning Sad Book was inspired by the death from meningitis of his son Eddie. Deaths unspoken haunted his Jewish family: it was only in adulthood that he managed to trace the relatives who died in the Holocaust, referred to bleakly by his father as “not around by the end of the war”.He was chosen not just as a great communicator, but a man acquainted with grief: his award-winning Sad Book was inspired by the death from meningitis of his son Eddie. Deaths unspoken haunted his Jewish family: it was only in adulthood that he managed to trace the relatives who died in the Holocaust, referred to bleakly by his father as “not around by the end of the war”.
The poet and archaeologists touched the objects and tried to bridge millennia to feel what they meant to the people who placed them with their dead. “Were they objects owned by the dead, were they bribes for favourable intercession in the future,” Julia Farley of the British Museum pondered. “Or were they making sure these objects stayed with the dead to keep them in their graves, to prevent them from returning?”The poet and archaeologists touched the objects and tried to bridge millennia to feel what they meant to the people who placed them with their dead. “Were they objects owned by the dead, were they bribes for favourable intercession in the future,” Julia Farley of the British Museum pondered. “Or were they making sure these objects stayed with the dead to keep them in their graves, to prevent them from returning?”
Not all grave goods were made of costly materials: some of the dead held a stone, a piece of chalk or a fossil, which must have been carefully placed into the curl of their hands during the burial. Some more humble pieces had to be labelled, as they went into museum stores, “this is a grave good, do not throw away”.Not all grave goods were made of costly materials: some of the dead held a stone, a piece of chalk or a fossil, which must have been carefully placed into the curl of their hands during the burial. Some more humble pieces had to be labelled, as they went into museum stores, “this is a grave good, do not throw away”.
The meaning of three barrel shaped objects covered in patterns including stylised human faces were perhaps the most hauntingly elusive. The polished surface was eerily reminiscent of human bone. They are known as the Folkton Drums, but they are taunting objects, unique, carved more than 4,000 years ago in solid chalk, resembling lidded containers with carvings perhaps representing wrapping - as of a baby, or a corpse.The meaning of three barrel shaped objects covered in patterns including stylised human faces were perhaps the most hauntingly elusive. The polished surface was eerily reminiscent of human bone. They are known as the Folkton Drums, but they are taunting objects, unique, carved more than 4,000 years ago in solid chalk, resembling lidded containers with carvings perhaps representing wrapping - as of a baby, or a corpse.
They were found in the 19th century in the grave of a child at Folkton in Yorkshire – very carefully placed touching his body, one behind his head, one in the small of his back, one at his hip. Their significance? Their meaning is still as cloudy to the archaeologists – and the wondering poet, to whom the death of children is a personal subject – as the reflections in the Dorset mirror.They were found in the 19th century in the grave of a child at Folkton in Yorkshire – very carefully placed touching his body, one behind his head, one in the small of his back, one at his hip. Their significance? Their meaning is still as cloudy to the archaeologists – and the wondering poet, to whom the death of children is a personal subject – as the reflections in the Dorset mirror.
The item is among the rarest grave goods: only about 50 have been found in Britain over the last 150 years, almost all buried with women.The item is among the rarest grave goods: only about 50 have been found in Britain over the last 150 years, almost all buried with women.
“These used to be dismissed by mainly male archaeologists as frivolities, objects of feminine vanity,” said Anwen Cooper, a bronze and iron age expert from the University of Manchester. “But whatever they were to these people, they were not that. The polished side would have given you a reflection, but a hazy one. When the Dorset woman lifted it, she would have seen a face, but not precisely hers – would she have seen the face of the dead, the face of her own grandmother? To me this is an object of power, as much as any sword.”“These used to be dismissed by mainly male archaeologists as frivolities, objects of feminine vanity,” said Anwen Cooper, a bronze and iron age expert from the University of Manchester. “But whatever they were to these people, they were not that. The polished side would have given you a reflection, but a hazy one. When the Dorset woman lifted it, she would have seen a face, but not precisely hers – would she have seen the face of the dead, the face of her own grandmother? To me this is an object of power, as much as any sword.”
The woman who died so close to the time of the Roman invasion in AD43 that she may have watched the first legionaries march into Dorset, also had an iron knife, and was buried with containers of food including tiny bones suggesting the delicate flesh of suckling pig. The position in which the mirror was found means it was probably originally in a cloth bag which had decayed leaving no trace.The woman who died so close to the time of the Roman invasion in AD43 that she may have watched the first legionaries march into Dorset, also had an iron knife, and was buried with containers of food including tiny bones suggesting the delicate flesh of suckling pig. The position in which the mirror was found means it was probably originally in a cloth bag which had decayed leaving no trace.
“Was that to hide and contain its power?” Rosen wondered. “Maybe it was a moment of terror for her people when the mirror was unveiled, and they wondered what it would reveal.”“Was that to hide and contain its power?” Rosen wondered. “Maybe it was a moment of terror for her people when the mirror was unveiled, and they wondered what it would reveal.”
Rosen, insisting that he has given no thought to his own death, and doesn’t care in the slightest what happens to his body afterwards, headed out into the winter darkness, forehead creased and his shoulders hunched in thought. The archaeologists packed up their tormentingly puzzling treasures, and headed for the bright lights and the karaoke machine of a 21st-century midwinter feast, a British Museum staff party.Rosen, insisting that he has given no thought to his own death, and doesn’t care in the slightest what happens to his body afterwards, headed out into the winter darkness, forehead creased and his shoulders hunched in thought. The archaeologists packed up their tormentingly puzzling treasures, and headed for the bright lights and the karaoke machine of a 21st-century midwinter feast, a British Museum staff party.
Michael RosenMichael Rosen
British MuseumBritish Museum
HeritageHeritage
PoetryPoetry
featuresfeatures
Share on FacebookShare on Facebook
Share on TwitterShare on Twitter
Share via EmailShare via Email
Share on LinkedInShare on LinkedIn
Share on PinterestShare on Pinterest
Share on Google+Share on Google+
Share on WhatsAppShare on WhatsApp
Share on MessengerShare on Messenger
Reuse this contentReuse this content