This book is in part a view of the history of archaeology between the two World Wars and, in lesser part, a polemic about the present state of archaeology. Dr Stout presents the evidence base for the polemic as being derived from his study of inter-war matters. I cannot say that I am convinced by this thesis, but this does not lessen the value of the book. I should begin with a declaration of interest. In 1963, as a first-year archaeology undergraduate at Cardiff, my Professor, Richard Atkinson, told me that I was too romantic to be an archaeologist and must learn that archaeology is a science. So I start with some sympathy for some of the ideas in this work. The author (‘who specializes in unusual history’) in his closing words says: ‘we could be encouraging new ideas about antiquity, from whatever quarter and however outrageous. Accepting that the past is fluid, we need to be as inventive with it as we need to be with the future’. And in summary he blames our present position, as he sees it, on the ‘1930s’ generation of archaeological ‘greats’; this might be enough for many ‘orthodox’ archaeologists to stifle a yawn and pass on to safer shores. This would be a mistake because, while this work is a curate’s egg, different curates will find good in different sections, however annoying other sections may be.

The main body of the book is in four parts. These all contain interesting themed narratives on the personalities and processes of inter-war (and post-war) archaeology and its ‘alternatives’. But before considering them there is one significant problem to be addressed. As we have seen above, the title of the book is Creating Prehistory, but the concluding ideas address ‘antiquity’, and large sections in between are to do with ‘archaeology’. There is a tendency for ‘prehistory’ to be written about as if it was, and is, the only form of archaeology and the British Isles the only place where it was practised. In fairness to the author, especially in view of some of his other publications, this is not necessarily the arrogance of the prehistorian; but it does mean that there is a degree of uncertainty about the exact targets of his polemic.

Part 1, ‘Disciplining the past’, ‘looks at how British archaeology became institutionalized’ (pre-Second World War). This is the shortest of the sections and seeks to show how the ‘radicals’ (for example, Clark, Crawford and Wheeler) sought the transfer of ‘power’ from the ‘amateurs’ to the ‘professionals’. This is said to include the formation of the Council for British Archaeology in 1944, although this surely has more to do with the movements to build a better post-war Britain, including, for example, the move to establish National Parks.

Part 2, ‘Contesting Utopia’, ‘looks at the idea of progress. … diffusionism is then examined in depth … arguably British archaeology’s greatest academic threat between the wars’. This interesting section examines the concept of ‘progress’, the influences of socialism and fascism, and especially the battles over diffusionist theory. Stout becomes quite emotional about the treatment (a ‘travesty’) of the proponents of diffusionism, not only pre-war, but more recently. Indeed, there is a wistful consideration of the defeat of ‘diffusionism’, in which he judges that ‘the creed had the seed of something truly revolutionary’ (p 111).

Part 3, ‘The most ancient faith’, ‘investigates the revival of Stonehenge as a spiritual centre (from c 1908 onward), and a place where meaning and access were highly contested’ – good strong stuff which should be recommended reading for all megalithic monument managers. It is perhaps appropriate, given the connections of Stonehenge, that the creed of Universalism, which led via the Universal Bond to the modern Druids, should have been formalized in the eighteenth century by a Pembrokeshire dissenter.

Part 4, ‘Order and civilization’, ‘looks at a variety of “prehistoric” responses to the inter-war world, contrasting clean-cut functionalism with … [Watkins’s] The Old Straight Track … and the narrative of the four-year excavation at Maiden Castle’. This is the longest of the parts and consists of case studies of the ley line movement and Wheeler’s excavation at Maiden Castle. There is also a sub-text of the use of archaeology to help bolster national identity and to be projected as more ‘scientific’. The two studies do not sit comfortably together.

Finally, there is the author’s argument, really a polemic, in his conclusion (‘Archaeology and social transformation’) that the intellectual developments and structures of 1930s archaeology have caused us to be ‘rooted in their assumptions’, ‘enmired in a fixation with material culture’; ‘we need to get beyond the confines of a discipline defined for a different age’. But he then provides no study of what was happening beyond 1948. Can we really attribute our present archaeological orthodoxy solely to the 1930s generation of radicals? And what does the author offer as his future? The main cry is for ‘the need for otherness’, yet ‘the essence of otherness is unattainability’ (p 246).

But can we so wholly break away from material culture? Surely the question is how we use it? Support comes from William Blake addressing himself to historians in the context of his picture of ‘Ancient Britons’. He writes: ‘Tell me the What; I do not want you to tell me the Why, and the How; I can find that out for myself … I will not be fooled by you into opinions … to disbelieve what you think improbable or impossible. His opinions, who does not see spiritual agency, is not worth any man’s reading’ (Myrone Reference Myrone2009). But then try the ‘unattainable other’ on a Government minister, local politician, developer or planning officer. Our temporal material world demands ‘fact’-based or material responses. But as material fact this book is well worth the read.