Kirkus Review

In her debut anthropological treatise, Änggård describes a more peaceful, egalitarian past for Europe.

Traditionally, the people of Europe and many of its former colonies have viewed themselves as heirs to the civilization of the ancient Greeks. Democratic Athens and her allies, they assert, laid down the philosophical and artistic template from which all Western societies subsequently sprung. Änggård also thinks that Europeans are heirs to the Greeks, but she says that the Greeks had an abusive, authoritarian society, whose truly lasting gifts are patriarchy, exploitation, conquest and war. She argues that a better model would have been the Stone Age societies of Old Europe, which saw women as the equals of men and didn’t build walls around their villages. With her background in theatrical costume and set design, Änggård looks to visual clues, such as cave paintings, tombs and stone figurines, as evidence of a less violent time in history. She then analyzes how the civilizations of later antiquity attempted to dispel and write off those earlier societies. The book goes on to explain how the Greek inheritance plagues modern society even today: Sexism and racism still run rampant at the beginning of the third millennium, the author says, and aggressive, violent subjugation is still a viable political tactic. Änggård asks readers to imagine an alternate history that celebrates the ancients’ peaceful tendencies instead of warlike ones. She tracks her ambitious theory across many different cultures and eras, and her interpretation of ancient myths and texts to support her ideas is quite compelling. Her notion is that the foibles of human nature haven’t condemned societies to inequality and violence, and it’s an attractive proposition. That said, her theory is difficult to prove or disprove, because so much of her case is based upon inherently subjective criticism of ancient cultural objects. For readers, it will simply come down to whether they’re swayed by her arguments or not. The book’s major achievement may not be that it shows readers how much they know about the past—but rather how much they can’t know.

An alternative, humanistic view of ancient Europe that’s worthy of readers’ consideration.

Clarion Review

This compelling examination of ancient European civilizations offers fascinating insights into humanity’s survival in the future.

In A Humanitarian Past, Adele Änggård presents a fascinating survey of Europe’s ancient past and the resulting impact on modern cultural conceptions. Employing her personal experience in theater and social agencies, Änggård offers compelling arguments for more intelligent, thorough understandings of humanity’s roots.

Änggård’s opening sections present the wherefores of her worldview, which takes note of interpersonal discord and rejects the notion that humanity has progressed socially since our ancestors’ time. Distressing stories of refugee women, and reactions to their struggles, are told in order to suggest errant and arbitrary cultural choices, many of them built upon the presumption that warfare and patriarchy are conditions that humanity evolved toward.

Änggård systematically deconstructs and rejects such conclusions. Subsequent sections analyze archaeological sites to reveal the ancient human societies that existed on the ground where Europe now stands. Many of these, Änggård shows, were highly sophisticated: their systems built on alloparenting and communality, their lives agrarian and peaceful, their art far more thoughtful than it is typically given credit for being. Änggård’s sketches reconstruct ancient artwork with sensitivity, and her revelations are staggering.

Änggård suggests that invaders were responsible for disrupting Europe’s early idyllic conditions, introducing warfare and discord as humanity moved toward the Hellenistic period. Literary mainstays like Homer and Aeschylus are reexamined, their work shown to omit the old ways for political reasons, and to justify warfaring impulses. Figures such as Medusa, Pandora, and Helen are revisited in less patriarchal lights. The author argues for a revival of the gentler, and ultimately more sustaining, human tendencies that preceded the Greeks.

There’s an anecdotal quality to the work’s opening sections that briefly threatens the book’s more dominant academic tone, but this ultimately doesn’t overwhelm Änggård’s engrossing pages. Archeology transitions into literary and theater criticism with seeming speed, but each section is edifying, and readers may appreciate the scope of the author’s insights. A few editorial mistakes—a regrettably missing figure, names improperly rendered once or twice—are slight, but forgivable, distractions. That the book focuses on restituting the values of ancient Europe may limit its relevance for readers outside of the continent, though it becomes clear that other societies’ pasts would be well-served by such historical survey. Throughout the book, Änggård makes a strong case for bettering ourselves by considering the best aspects of our human nature. A Humanitarian Past is an erudite and revealing proposal for improving our future by reconsidering our past.

Michelle Anne Schingler

Blueink Review

Raised in Europe during WWII and having seen domestic violence first-hand through her work with women’s refuge centers, Adele Änggård studied the ancient origins of social ills such as warfare and gender inequality. Here, the author examines the roots of our present-day social woes by looking at what has come down to us from past civilizations as reflected in their artworks, from Stone Age figurines to Classical Greek drama.

Änggård posits that the Stone Age civilization she calls the “Old Europeans” had an egalitarian social structure before the arrival on the scene of militaristic proto-Indo-Europeans. She frames Europe’s pre-history in terms of a paradise lost in which a “matrilocal,” cooperative society was eclipsed by patriarchal white males who introduced slavery, warfare and social stratification. Änggård’s research
encompasses thousands of years of history to show that warfare is not inevitable and that a return to a more balanced, humane social order is still possible. The book is carefully researched and documented, containing numerous pictures of the artworks she discusses. However, Änggård’s reading of the history fits too neatly into modern political preconceptions. The Classical Greeks and their latterday admirers are cast as the villains here and held responsible for a host of evils. Certainly the cryptic artworks left to us from the Stone Age support a variety of interpretations, but the author offers few readings of the historical record that might provide balance to her narrative.

Despite her sweeping, revisionist view of thousands of years of European history, Änggård’s optimism about the possibility of a more humane world is refreshing, and she has presented her ideas well. Those who can overlook the tenuous nature of her argument will find an interesting and informative read in these pages.