Volcanoes are deeply connected to many human histories. ‘Mountains of fire’ play their roles across many chronological scales and have been of interest to scientists, historians and archaeologists since the beginning of scientific research. It is crucial to all those disciplines to understand the interplay of volcanic force, climate change and cultural development.
And that is where this brilliantly written book steps in. In 11 chapters, the reader travels with volcanologist Clive Oppenheimer, who has a side career as a film-maker, across the globe from Antarctica's Mount Erebus to the northern Atlantic rift at Iceland. Each of the 11 chapters captures individual lifeworlds of volcanoes and their stories embedded in history, tradition and perception of the local communities.
‘Dreamland of the living earth’ takes off quite dramatically with a scene at a crater rim, where menacing lava bombs and thickening ash clouds force the author, then a young doctoral student, to abandon his day shift for the sake of his future: “It's better to not sacrifice oneself for one's art” (p.3). This statement establishes the narrative of the book and raises awareness that volcanoes, despite their fascination, pose a threat—to the people living among them and the observing scientist. The Introduction further describes the coming of age of volcanology and the emergence of the scientific discipline, dating back to the late fifteenth and early sixteenth century. The reader is instantly aware of the spirit in which Oppenheimer directs his book. There is respect for the early explorers, empirical research and the constant amalgamate of force, belief and individual perceptions that volcanoes offer to human civilisations across all temporal scales—from prehistory to modern times. It is a legacy in which Oppenheimer's own scientific origins are based.
The chapter ‘Land of god’ begins with a reminiscence about Italian film-making as background for an excursion to the most thrilling sceneries at Stromboli and Vesuvius. Oppenheimer vividly tells the story of eighteenth-century British envoy Sir William Hamilton who made recurring ascents to the crater of Vesuvius while excavations unearthed what now provides one of the most complete insights into the societal impact of volcanic eruptions. His work set the standard for scientific communication in merging archaeology and volcanology.
In ‘What upsets volcanoes?’, Oppenheimer chose events in modern Chile to explain one of society's deeply desired goals: to establish a precise system to predict volcanic eruptions to help prevent the loss of life, while being accurate enough to protect traditional, deep-rooted sociocultural knowledge of the local people. Their experiences and spiritual encounters with the volcanoes are the source for manifold identities and resources, as the mountains offer water, fertile land and resources. Andean mountain chains played a central role for Inca period societies, which manifested in human sacrifices—capacochas—of young children at high altitude sites on top of the volcanoes. Wherever in space and time Oppenheimer takes us, this connection is a highlight of this book: those who read the rocks, understand their history but those who listen to the people understand their meaning.
Chapter 4 ‘Emerald Isle’, moves forward in time to 8 May 1902 at St Pierre on Martinique Island. On that date, Montagne Pelée unexpectedly sent out a towering burst of rocks and ash that roared down the slopes and tens of thousands of the island's inhabitants vanished. Vessels and ships were destroyed and not many escaped the pyroclastic flows of this peléan eruption and its nuées ardentes—burning clouds that rush down erupting volcanoes (p.65). Such devastating eruptions, however, have occurred frequently throughout prehistory. The so-called P2 AD 280 eruption caused massive migration of the inhabitants of Martinique to nearby islands during the third century AD. Learning from their experiences, the returning descendants started to settle in different and substantially less suitable areas of Martinique, which showcases the adaptability of local communities to their environment but much more the will to withstand natural hazards.
We get another peek into the author's adventures in ‘Night market of the ghosts’, a description of how the young student turned to volcanology during a gap year travelling in Indonesia where he realised the ritual and religious powers of volcanoes that manifest in worshipping the gods living among the crater rims. The Indonesian volcanoes seem to play on a different level, as the people here yet more involve them in their life history than at any other place on earth. These socioecological syntheses are reflected in the book as well: the connectivity of individual and cognitive lifeworlds of the communities as dependant on both local identity and local resources.
With ‘White mountain, heaven lake’, the journey continues north to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea to set up international collaboration and communication with the local scientists—in a country that is difficult to work in as foreigner. Classical political propaganda mixed with sound scientific transfer, a holy mountain between research and metaphysics, the spirit to communicate beyond simple prejudices and the will to overcome political and mental boundaries, this chapter is the masterpiece of the volume. Oppenheimer introduces the history of the volcano, describing his own motivation to find the exact date of the so-called Millennium Eruption of Mount Paektu that devastated much of the landscape in late AD 946. The long-term menace of the volcano, also affecting societies much further away, is outperformed by the immense sociopolitical and cultural meaning this volcano had over the past centuries and today. Oppenheimer combines the scientific constraints in North Korea, the historical transformation of the volcano's charisma and the political implications this can have for such isolated people.
We stay in the Middle Ages when heading towards Iceland's Mid-Atlantic Ridge in ‘Lava floods and hurtling flames’—a guided tour of Icelandic volcano eruptions and their mystification during the Viking Age. As manifested in the Edda, an Icelandic Saga, the giant elemental of Surt (or Surtr), will eventually end the world in flames at the last battle of Ragnarök. Before that, however, Surt is supposed to orchestrate armies of fire dragons in volcanic caves across the island. One of them is Surtshellir Cave, most likely a ritual spot that was established after the Hallmundarhraun eruption, which caused massive loss of fertile land at the beginning of the tenth century. Certainly, Iceland is “nothing short of a volcanologist's paradise” (p.147) and a relatively safe place to observe volcanic eruptions because the lava flows travel at considerably lower velocities compared to their explosive counterparts. They do not usually kill people; they do, however, tend to overrun vast proportions of land, not stopping for houses, fields or infrastructure —a major threat for Viking Age people and today's society.
African archaeology is at centre stage in the following two chapters, ‘Red Sea, black gold’ and ‘Water tower of the Sahara’. As satisfying as it is to collect geologic and volcanic samples, it is equally interesting to survey landscapes for archaeological artefacts. In this case, that means stone (or rather glass) tools made from obsidian that are found across the vast volcanic landscapes of Ethiopia and Eritrea. Due to its distinct chemical fingerprint, obsidian is the interface at which archaeologists and volcanologists meet to reconstruct large-scale material networks and the spread of both resources and humans. Oppenheimer takes the reader to the African origin of Arabian lithic tools, evidence for long-distance networks and maritime sea-faring in prehistory.
In the last part of the book, ‘Flame in a sea of gold’ before the epilogue ‘The volcano and you’, the author reveals his final treasure: Mount Erebus on Antarctica, his “muse” (p.240). Oppenheimer immerses us in this harmony of deadly cold, ruggedness and untamed nature. He also provides a retrospective of the historical dimensions of Antarctic polar research and a study of some of his predecessors. These include the spirited men who sailed with Captain James Clark Ross in 1841 to discover the volcano, and ‘the Professor’ Tannatt Edgeworth David, a crew member of Ernest Shackleton's Nimrod expedition of 1908.
Mountains of fire is not simply another book about volcanoes, neither is it a novel with a scientific coating. Rather it is an assemblage of scientific adventures and challenges that the author sought and faced during his surprisingly long career (considering his young age) and the people he met and the stories collected on his travels across the globe—including diverse collaborations with archaeologists and historians. The beauty of the volume is the strong interdisciplinary approach of environmental sciences and archaeology, an equal fascination for ecological hazards and sociocultural response and the joint formulation of research questions starting from both disciplines.
Mountains of fire is sulphurically immersed in science but it is also soulfully enriched by storytelling. The book makes the reader travel with Oppenheimer to remote and sometimes frightening places, bringing back memories and creating wishes of adventurous expeditions, social and cultural encounters. Read it and prepare your walking boots!
