There is a lot of interesting material to be found in Rituals of the past, and it is rather surprising that there have not been more volumes like it, given the many relevant case studies afforded by Andean archaeology. The overall quality of the work is generally high, and there is certainly something of value in every chapter—some, however, will mainly be of interest to Andean specialists, while others deserve a much wider audience. It is worth noting from the outset that this is not one of those volumes that tries to adopt a unified approach to its topic. Indeed, ‘ritual’ is at best a shared keyword for all the contributions, and it quickly becomes clear that the term is being used in quite distinct ways in the different chapters. For some of the authors, ritual entails ‘symbolism’ and ‘communication’, while for others it is conceived as a means of achieving pragmatic goals. Several of the papers are more concerned with the architecture of ritual spaces than they are with ritual itself. Of course, not all edited volumes aim to sustain a shared approach, or seek to convey a single ‘party line’, and nor is eclecticism necessarily a flaw. In fact, it is quite interesting to see just how variably the use of the term ritual can be put amongst a cadre of modern Andeanist scholars.

As is traditional in archaeological thought, Rituals of the past also keeps the idea of ritual very much in the realm of ‘religion’. I find that somewhat frustrating, as something such as a college graduation ceremony is clearly no less ‘ritualistic’ than a Catholic mass. The editors (Rosenfeld and Bautista) make a similar point themselves in the Introduction (p. 7), but it is not an idea that any of the chapter authors end up pursuing. It is perhaps a missed opportunity that the volume does not do more to disrupt the reflexive equation of ritual with religion, but then it seems an opportunity that archaeology in general is determined to keep missing for the time being.

Of particular importance to Andeanists, as well as for those with a comparative interest in very early forms of social complexity, are the chapters by John Rick and Daniel Contreras. For both authors the subject is Chavín de Huántar, one of the most intensively studied archaeological sites in the whole of South America—and traditional source of the ‘mother culture’ of Andean civilization. The watchword for both chapters is ‘diversity’, and the authors emphasise just how variable the ritual activity found at the site was, not just over time but also synchronically. Contreras specifically uses the term ‘heterarchy’ (p. 65) to capture Chavín's ritual heterogeneity, which seems an apt descriptor given the evidence presented. Although he is fairly diplomatic about it, this view represents a substantial shift away from the standard interpretations of the site—and in my opinion it is very welcome and long overdue. The literature on Chavín is overrun with terms such as ‘high priest’, ‘theocracy’ and ‘indoctrination’, which often make it seem suspiciously similar to a thinly veiled version of medieval Catholicism. These two chapters hopefully signal a move towards a less anachronistic understanding of what remains a very important site.

A real highlight of the volume is the chapter by Nielsen, Angiorama and Ávila. In the light of the ‘ontological turn’, they (re)define ritual as “social action that addresses non-human agents who have a significant influence on human fate” (p. 241). The ‘who’ (not ‘which’) is important here, and by agents the authors mean beings endowed with ‘power’, ‘intentionality’, ‘choice’, ‘awareness’ and ‘responsibility’ (p. 242). They do not specifically say how universal they intend their definition to be, but it certainly seems no less applicable to the cults of the ancient Greek gods, than it does to the Prehispanic Andes, for instance. Interestingly, however, in an Andean context, such non-human agents normally only exist because of the ritual offerings they receive from humans. In other words, their animacy is not an inherent property, but an ongoing outcome of their ritual relationships with humans. So in the Andean context, rituals not only ‘address’ non-human agents, they create them too. This seems rather different from supernatural beings in monotheist traditions, who, as a rule, do not depend on the ritual acts of humans for their existence. I wonder, then, about the comparative implications (and perhaps limits) of Nielsen, Angiorama and Ávila's definition of ritual. Yet all this just serves to highlight how stimulating their chapter is, and it is one that deserves to be widely read by archaeologists wherever they happen to work in the world.

A theme served by several chapters is that of rituals related to ‘termination’ or ‘abandonment’. This is discussed by Edwards in relation to the imperial Wari outpost at Pataraya; by Estrada and López-Hurtado with respect to the site of Pukara in the Titicaca Basin; and finally by Fernandino and Ruales regarding the coastal centre at Cerro de Oro in the Cañete Valley. Together they comprise a well-presented group of case studies that prove essential reading for anyone with a general interest in termination rites in Andean contexts. Van Gijseghem and Whalen's piece on the potential relationships between mining sites and toponyms in Peru's Ica Valley provides some welcome methodological diversity, while Abraham offers an interesting discussion of the changing nature of church architecture between the early and later colonial periods. With regard to the latter two chapters, it is good to see historical archaeology gaining ever greater prominence in Andes-focused volumes. In sum, Rituals of the past is a commendable and engaging volume, and the reader will be well rewarded by time spent amidst many of its chapters.