Experimental archaeology is a sub-field that is still fighting its corner as a subject that needs to be taken seriously and one that can deliver results where other methods fail. Having undertaken and co-published a few experiments on the manufacture and use of Bronze Age weaponry myself, I know it is hard to get funding for experimental archaeology, even though it invariably provides solid answers to distinct research questions and is much cheaper than projects with extensive laboratory analyses. One challenge to bear in mind is that the backgrounds of the experiments and experimenters have a wide range from the highly scientific to the experiential to the educational, therefore the precise definition of the experiments and their premises is essential for any outcome. For the results to be relevant, all experiments should be based on a thorough study of the archaeological subject in question.

Experimental archaeology is rarely published in standalone books but does appear in journals (see the online bibliography at http://www.experimentalarchaeology.net and http://www.exarc.net for the Exarc journal) or as part of wider research on a subject. The four books chosen for this NBC encompass a wide scope of publications.

Living archaeology: unveiling the past through experimental archaeology (2026) is a compilation of recent research presented at a conference and delivers many insights into scientific experiments with a focus on the Palaeolithic in France and Spain. The Bloomsbury Handbook of experimental approaches to Roman archaeology (2024) is an excellent collection on how we can get closer to the Roman way of life and the technologies they used. Dinner with King Tut: how rogue archaeologists are re-creating the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes of lost civilizations (2025) is a wild, exciting romp around the world through all times, intriguingly written and advocating that experimental archaeology is the closest way we have to time travel. The last book Bog fashion: recreating Bronze and Iron Age clothes (2025) delivers a practical guide about how to make your own prehistoric clothing based on original finds.

Experimental archaeology offers a huge opportunity to connect the interested public with current research. Many practitioners are not trained archaeologists but have a deep knowledge on past materials and techniques. I believe that connecting scientific scholarship with an experimental approach is one of the most promising ways to get closer to past life realities. Personally, I can only recommend for archaeologists to undertake experimental archaeology or participate in an educational hands-on demonstration because ‘learning by doing’ and experiencing first hand a material, technique, taste or smell is far more instructive than reading about the subjects in books—and it is much more fun.

Cyrielle Mathias, Laurence Bourguignon, Jérôme Ivorra & Cyril Viallet (ed.). 2026. Living archaeology: unveiling the past through experimental archaeology. Leiden: Sidestone; 978-94-6426-436-4 hardback €120 Open Access http://doi.org/10.59641/u3x9r0s1t

This book is the published outcome of the 6th International Congress of Experimental Archaeology held in France in 2022. As noted in the Preface, the conference organisers focused strongly on lithic and organic case studies which reflects the strong (Palaeo)lithic technological research tradition in France. The Introduction highlights not only the conference organisation and practical demonstrations but also the pioneering contribution to experimental archaeology of Napoleon III who commissioned investigations into Roman fortifications and war machines, followed by a review of the development of lithic-orientated experimental research. There are 33 chapters in English, French and Spanish, but only some have translated abstracts, which makes some research less accessible. Particularly noteworthy is that all the contributions, with well over 100 authors, adhere to the FAIR principles of data publication with many providing additional online supplementary data—and addressing therefore a key issue and criticism in earlier experimental archaeological research. The chapters are invariably standalone and narrowly focused case studies, but the methodological rigour and extensive detailed recording of the experimental activities, variables and results provide a strong foundation for future research. While several projects represent targeted work over a few weeks, many unfolded over months and years. The results are presented in extensive tables, graphs, graphics and colour images that are invaluable for specialised researchers, though less so for a wider audience. As the scientific experiments are foregrounded here, it does not include much on public engagement, connections to museums or heritage sites, digital reconstructions or thoughts on theory.

The first section addresses the fundamental issue of taphonomy, the second section explores the shaping of raw materials from stone through to wood, the third section looks at cultural activities from producing art to storing and producing food and drink, the fourth section addresses tool production and the book closes with a single chapter on scientific dissemination. The overwhelming majority of the contributions are by teams from France and Spain focusing on technologies and assemblages from those countries with a significant emphasis on the Palaeolithic. There are only two chapters on African evidence, one on the East Mediterranean (Israel) and two on Mesoamerica.

The first section comprises experiments concerning lithics. Chapter topics include the understudied impacts of the taphonomic processes experienced by stone tools when they are placed on an open incline of plant-covered and trampled ground respectively (Chapter 1); the difference in the taphonomic impacts of trampling on the skeletons of small mammals as would have occurred at occupation sites (Chapter 2) and the impact of fire on flint, recording colour and lustre changes in a specific flint from Ojo Guarena, Spain (Chapter 3).

Part two holds the most chapters, which are on techniques. Two chapters research ways of extraction of bone marrow with blunt tools in the Palaeolithic (Chapters 5 & 8). Shaping and making stone tools is explored in further chapters. For example, Chapter 6 considers Lower Palaeolithic bifaces (handaxes) from northern French Senonian flint, which were created using hammers made of antler and hard and soft minerals together, and the chapter provides detailed considerations of the knapping actions (Chapter 6). Chapter 7 looks at the re-touching of Middle Palaeolithic Quina scrapers highlighting discrepancies in the ways that the tools functioned and their current interpretations. Chapter 9 sees the analysis of bipolar lithic technologies and the processes shaping their efficiency producing bladelet technologies, mainly on quartz in the Later Stone Age in South Africa that deepens understanding of the evidence found at Umhlatzuzana rock shelter.

Chapter 12 describes the manufacture of a Neolithic logboat and analyses in detail decisions and processes underpinning the selection, felling and working of a large oak tree before a short summary of its successful performance paddling off the coast of northwest France. Metals are a further theme and include experimental smelting of arsenical copper—a widely used yet poorly understood alloy in prehistoric Europe and much of Asia (Chapter 13); how technical ceramic ‘cups’ enhanced the lost-wax cast production of metal bells in the Post Classic Mayan world (Chapter 14); indirect evidence of early iron is proposed through the carvings of some later prehistory stelae in Iberia, which would possibly have required hardened steel tools, rather than those of stone, bronze or unhardened iron; the separation of silver from lead and copper—a refining process that goes back to the fourth millennium BC with the authors providing fresh perspectives through their own experiments and a more global perspective on the technological process (Chapter 17).

Under ‘cultural behaviours’, varied themes are connected such as the chaîne operatoire of Palaeolithic hand stencils in western Europe, which enables morphological comparisons to the archaeological record (Chapter 19) and research into food production: Roman cheesemaking, which is known from textual and archaeological fragments but requires experimental archaeology to fill the gap (Chapter 22) and wine production in first millennium BC (Chapter 23).

The ‘Use’ section includes five more contributions on Lower to Mid Palaeolithic lithics from France, Spain and one on Israel. They are impressively detailed and present meticulous use-wear studies or traceology from tools to pebbles to manuports. The final chapter features a short look at birch bark tar use in the Palaeolithic and an educational workshop for the public.

The book is no doubt a fascinating compilation of diverse experiments carried out with great enthusiasm, filled with many questions that researchers still have about the past and ways of answering them. They are detailed experimental analyses, and therefore will appeal more to a specialist from the same field, but their answers will ultimately reveal more about life and technologies used in the past.

Lee Graña Nicolaou, Tatiana Ivleva & Bill Griffiths (ed.). 2024. The Bloomsbury Handbook of experimental approaches to Roman archaeology. London: Bloomsbury; 978-1-350-21783-6 hardback £130.

Despite the high public visibility of Roman heritage and history throughout its former empire—whether in museum exhibitions, reconstructed buildings or military re-enactments—this is the first comprehensive survey of experimental approaches to Roman archaeology. As both the Foreword and Introduction highlight, there is a strong sense that experimental work is seen as marginal within this period when compared to the extent of prehistoric or medieval studies. The idea for the Handbook arose from two workshops in 2018 in Scotland and northern England respectively.

The Introduction begins with the famous Antikythera mechanism discovered by divers on a Roman shipwreck off the eponymous Greek island more than 120 years ago and is used as a metaphor for Roman experimental archaeology. It has been the subject of archaeological, historical, scientific and, latterly, experimental archaeological research. This has demonstrated beyond doubt a complexity in astronomical measurement and technical craft in the Roman world that significantly exceeded academic expectations and hugely inspired public engagement—and even appeared in the latest ‘Indiana Jones’ movie instalment (Indiana Jones and the dials of destiny 2025). The chapter further provides a clear overview of the theoretical debates over what constitutes experimental archaeology and its development in different areas within Roman scholarship. It highlights the range of resources available from departments and dedicated conferences to Archaeological Open Air Museums, websites and social media platforms and offers researchers a good starting point.

This maturity of experimental archaeology in Roman scholarship is evident in the 26 chapters, grouped in five sections, written by 44 contributors from 10 countries. The sections are: ‘Experimentation as a tool for academic and public education’; ‘Rebuilding the past: architectural reconstructions and archaeological open air museums’; ‘Actualistic experiments: activities, processes and chains of production’; ‘Experiencing the past: sensory experiences and interpretations’; and ‘Digital technologies: 3D reconstructions and gaming’. An insightful introductory chapter guides readers into each section, to provide the broader context to the subsequent chapters. Many of the authors do not come from academic backgrounds in archaeology and those that do have sought out knowledge or expertise that they felt were lacking in the discipline. Despite extensive Roman archaeological, textual and artistic evidence, the chapters convincingly argue that there is no shortage of subjects on which there is very limited information and that require experimental approaches for deeper understanding. The chapters provide an excellent range and balance of theory and practice across a fascinating range of technologies, crafts and activities found across the Roman world. There is a strong bias towards the northern and western frontiers of the Roman empire, which is perhaps unsurprising given the origin of the Handbook.

In the first section, Bill Griffiths delivers a thoughtful and clear reflection based on long and hard-earned experience in and around Hadrian’s Wall about the guidelines that should underpin Roman re-enactment and reconstruction. He concludes with three fundamentally important points: that a positive result only proves the possibility; that all results need to be published, including compromises made; and to always go back to the primary sources. Another chapter reflects on the increasingly blurred lines between academics, re-enactors and artisans, a trend that is providing rich and diverse insights for each group, especially with regards to the experiential aspects (Hamelink).

The chapters on ‘Rebuilding the past’ show how much we can learn from Roman construction techniques by painstakingly replicating them. For example, the recent building of a Roman dining room and a hypocaust in south-west England persuasively argues for the importance of cob-walling in the dining room (and in the wider Roman world) despite its complete absence in the textual sources (Brunning). A further detailed and systematic reconstruction of three craftsman’s houses was undertaken in Xanten, Germany, with a particular focus on the understudied construction approaches of rammed earth, hand-hewn timber and wood-fired tiles (Kienzle).

The case studies in ‘Actualistic experiments’ combine both qualitative and quantitative perspectives to test hypotheses about how the artefacts or ecofacts that archaeologists find and record were produced in the past. One of the chapters provides an extensive and fascinating journey into the world of Roman bread production based on evidence recovered from Pompeii and Herculaneum and in particular the ‘Bakery of Modestus’ and his panis quadratus loaf (Chapter 10). Further chapters explore experiments, one a detailed approach towards Roman vegetable tanning processes (Chapter 11) and another on the experimental evaluation of the extensive and diverse range of Roman oil lamps (Chapter 13). The section finishes with stimulating chapters on multistage processes involved in cloth dyeing, estimating the scale of the dyeing industry at Pompeii (Chapter 14) and the integration of ethnographic evidence and experimental archaeology to reveal the Roman fishing practices using weights and nets (Chapter 15).

In ‘Experiencing the past’, stimulating insights are offered into different Roman worlds by highly experienced practitioners including the production of Romano-British glass bangles (Chapter 16), the reconstruction of historical recipes from Apicius (Chapter 17), the reproduction of a military march undertaken in Spain in AD 209 with logistical and physiological analyses (Chapter 18) and Late Antique clothing design (Chapter 19).

The chapters within the rapidly developing world of ‘Digital Technologies’ details the analysis and reconstruction of coastal villas and associated fish-rearing structures in southern Latinum (Chapter 22) and the lighting within rooms (Chapter 23). There is a major review of 3D reconstructions of buildings and detailing of an online taught course whereby students modelled buildings in Sketchup (Chapter 21) and the use of game engine technology to test military weapons and armour and an enigmatic belt-like object from Vimose, which the authors argue to be a baldric (Chapter 24). The book finishes with a thoughtful conclusion (Chapter 27) by Andrew Gardiner, a leading Roman theoretical archaeologist reflecting on the diversity and strength of experimental archaeology and stating that it is “time to be experimental with our reimagining of the Roman past” (p.603).

A statement with which I fully agree, especially after reading this insightful book that will, hopefully, inspire future researchers, specialists and enthusiasts alike to integrate the results in the wider scholarship and to design their own experiments to get closer to what life in Roman times was like.

Sam Kean. 2025. Dinner with King Tut: how rogue archaeologists are re-creating the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes of lost civilizations. London: Little, Brown; 978-0-316-49655-1 hardback £28.

Sam Kean, an award-winning popular science writer and podcaster, starts this well-written and engaging book by highlighting a fundamental disconnect between the popular perception of the stirring conclusions and actual experience of doing archaeology. Despite seemingly being “the most thrilling field in science … revealing no less than our fundamental selves”, a visit to an excavation reveals only “scores of sunburnt men and women sprawled in the dirt … day after day, year after year” (p.3)—clearly he has not visited digs in the British Isles. The revelation for Kean that allows him to connect to the past is experimental archaeology. Rather than digging things up and theorising about them, this book is an enthusiastic and inspirational journey exploring how people have tried not only to reconstruct past technologies, materials, activities and foods but also the insights that can be gained from their experiences in doing so. How people lived in the past and what it was like for them lies at the heart of a book that skilfully interweaves experimental archaeological narratives that inform evocative fictional stories seeking to transport the reader back in time.

The book is organised in chronological chapters, each focusing on specific case studies using experimental archaeology around the world, starting with Palaeolithic bedmaking, hunting and butchery in Africa and finishing with the Mesoamerican ballgame, known by the Aztecs as ullamaliztli, and the Spanish cannons that contributed to the downfall of their empire. The author travels widely to meet and learn from a range of experimental specialists, trying everything himself from hairdressing, cooking and tanning to trepanation, tattooing and firing trebuchets, often with limited success. Kean clearly loved these experiences—however challenging, messy, exhausting and nauseating—describing them vividly and sharing frequently unexpected insights. Some of the presented facts are not easily forgotten, such as the discovery that among tanners, it is widely believed that “every animal has exactly enough brains to tan its own hide” (p.106) followed by a description of what that entails. What is striking is that, even with all the knowledge and experience gained on the author’s journey, he reflects with the humbling conclusion that “if I was teleported to pretty much any era in the past, I would have starved to death in about half an hour” (p.5).

Within each chapter, characters from the past appear, created by the author, and the reader follows them as they try to face and surmount difficult and dangerous challenges in their lives and that of their communities—not all of which end happily. These stories try to emphasise how they lived, experienced and perceived their world—facing their challenging lives with ideas, technologies and materials that we are still trying to recreate. The protagonists include: Asana who is hunting giant sloths in Andean highlands around 7500 BC; Loa, navigating a Polynesian canoe around 1000 BC; Zyrmina, a Greek slave, seeking freedom in the shadow of an erupting Vesuvius in Pompeii in AD 79; and Jiaolong, a Chinese general and eunuch leading the siege and assault of a rebellious city around AD 1200. Kean is a skilled writer of historical fiction as well as fact, and very effectively draws the reader into these very different places and times as seen through the perspective of the individuals. Their stories are substantial, detailed and integral to the book and significantly elevate what is already a very engaging read.

The author concludes not only that “there is much more to archaeology than moving dirt” (no surprise for us who are working in the field) but also that “if the field truly wants to fulfil its promise of illuminating the lives of everyday people in the past, then it needs to focus on what people in the past actually experienced—the moments that filled their days and filled their lives” (p.419). Experimental archaeology can help to realise this ambitious aim. Yet what is striking is that while some of the individual experts consulted in the book are archaeologists, often those who felt that there was something missing in the discipline, many others are not; there is a varied cast ranging from First Nation individuals and groups practising traditional crafts handed down through the generations, to survivalists, scientists, chefs and enthusiasts. Reading each chapter, there is an underlying theme that many (but not all) archaeologists have not only consistently ignored the practical aspects of the activities that they excavate and interpret but also have too often disdained or dismissed individuals who focused on them. What this book highlights for me is that we should start to write better stories about the past and should be far more open to exploring past things ‘hands on’ as well as supporting and incorporating those that seek to recreate it.

Nicole DeRushie. 2025. Bog fashion: recreating Bronze and Iron Age clothes. Furulund: Chronocopia; 978-91-981056-9-8 hardback £41.

One of the people who seek to ‘recreate the past’ and bring it to life with their own hands is the author of the final book in this NBC. Nicole DeRushie, historian and fibre artist, researches the textile finds from bogs across Northern and Western Europe, burials in Danish log coffins and other sources to explore what people’s clothes looked like in the Bronze and Iron Age. The importance of understanding early clothing—from the production of textiles to the design of garments to the construction of personal appearance—is undeniable. The meagre evidence found in the last centuries has meant that archaeologists have largely ignored it and only in the past two decades the focus has shifted. Yet, when the conditions allow for preservation, what is found in the surviving clothing is a spectacularly rich and underappreciated world of skilled craft whose recreation offers invaluable and otherwise unobtainable insights. The lack of oxygen in wetlands creates one of the rare environments where textiles suffer only minimal decay over millennia. Taken together with the sacrifices, accidents and burials of individuals in the Bronze - Iron Age, archaeologists in northern Europe—mainly southern Scandinavia, Ireland and northern Britain—have an exceptional record of what people wore. While these garments have been widely published and exhibited, their recreation has not always been systematically documented—and, even then, probably only within dedicated and dense academic publications.

These surviving garments are sometimes complete but more often found in fragments or even just as textile imprints in other materials. Through recreating textiles for decades with her own hands, the author is able to emphasise the extensive skillset that was needed to make these garments. The whole procedure of collecting and preparing wool and plant fibres and processing them into yarn for weaving textiles is time consuming. Clothes were not only keeping people warm and comfortable but also represented valuable possessions and were worn and recycled for as long as possible.

Bog fashion is a beautifully photographed and illustrated guide as to how to make different garments from the Bronze and Iron Age clothes—all of which were recreated by the author. DeRushie draws on insights not only from archaeologists and craftspeople but also the individuals who wore the period-inspired (rather than period-accurate) prehistoric clothes for a year while living in an Iron Age settlement for a fascinating documentary in 1978 (BBC series Living in the past).

The book begins with a short and engaging introduction to the Bronze–Iron Age archaeological evidence and the surrounding research, followed by the two main sections: ‘Materials, tools and techniques’ and ‘Garments in focus’. Each is filled with a wide range of topics with accompanying case studies and highlighting the archaeological evidence in brief. A useful appendix of written sources (mainly Roman), glossary, resources and further readings supports the text. The only nitpicking point I can make is that the ‘Further reading’ list is quite brief and the full bibliography (which would be really helpful) is mentioned to be accessible via the publisher’s site but could not be found (access attempted August 2026).

The materials used are discussed in detail, such as animal and plant fibres (wool, linen and others), tools and techniques such as spinning, twinning and weaving. The options that Bronze and Iron Age people had for clothes are highlighted, as well as preference of colour and usage of dyeing techniques. Blackthorn pins and bone needles are presented, and instructions included on how to make and use them, before the stitching techniques are described and tested. Equipped with this knowledge, the reader is invited to make some of the clothes themselves with helpful instructions in ‘Garments in focus’. The author is very encouraging and promises that even when not doing everything in a ‘historically’ correct way “you will still be exercising many of the skills and the mindset of a prehistoric crafter, giving you an historical experience” (p.80). This is definitely as much an experiential as experimental approach but one that will engage many people and gets closer to that feeling of time travelling mentioned in Sam Kean’s book above. Thirteen ancient garments and accessories are described to make at home. Among these are different types of cloaks and tunics, a skirt, trousers, a shirt and a belt, shoes made from leather as well as a fibula and a birch-bark hat to complete the ensemble. Whether you plan to make your own outfit or not, it is incredible insightful to understand how these garments were most likely produced and, at the end of the book, DeRushie highlights how each piece took many (even hundreds of) hours to make if done from scratch. This shows persuasively the appreciation of the value of generations of learning and knowledge clothes production must have had.

There is such a wealth of expertise and experience packed into this enjoyable and inspiring book and all is remarkably well-explained, whether it is the selection of fibres, the use of colour dyes, the range of stitching techniques or making a tunic. It explains the technical and practical elements of prehistoric clothing step by step with vivid figures and descriptions. I will make time to try to make some of it myself. This book is for everyone with an interest in textile making or with any interest in the people in the Bronze–Iron Age and their clothes.