Despite clear differences in the size of the sites discussed and the scale of excavations undertaken, these two volumes are united by topic: Classic-era Maya settlements located in the central Petén region that span important moments of political change, negotiation, and transition. For Tikal, William Haviland's in-depth study of Group 7F-1 documents material traces of changes in political power during the Early Classic period. At Ixlú, Prudence Rice and Don Rice examine the site as a contested entrepôt that represents the fragmented political and ethnic landscape of the Postclassic period. In addition to the thematic parallels between the investigations, these two sites were linked politically during the Late and Terminal Classic Periods, with Ixlú using the Tikal/Mutal emblem glyph and architecturally referencing Tikal. Methodologically, while both volumes focus on the results of archaeological excavations, they also integrate evidence from multiple sources: Haviland's analysis includes information from hieroglyphic and iconographic sources, while Rice and Rice emphasize ethnohistory, in addition to glyphs and images, as integral to their interpretation.
The Tikal report focuses on Group 7F-1, an elite residential group located 1.25 km southeast of downtown Tikal and occupied from the Early to Terminal Classic periods; excavations in this area were conducted in 1957, 1963, and 1965. This group was initially occupied by lesser elite residents, then abandoned. Toward the end of the Early Classic, the group was refounded (“New Group 7F-1,” in Haviland's parlance). It seems to have been occupied by the surviving family of one of Tikal's Early Classic rulers, Kaloomte’ Bahlam (Ruler 19), who was interred within the group in a spectacular tomb (Burial 160), according to Haviland. The royal family's move to this group may have been the result of an ignominious end to this segment of the ruling dynasty. Haviland suggests that the family then occupied Group 7F-1 until the Terminal Classic period, with periods of improved relations with the ruling dynasty in Tikal. This apparent détente is seen through episodes of elaborate ceremonial activity within the group—presumably sanctioned, and in phases characterized by the absence of adult male burials, which may indicate reversion to their placement in central Tikal. Group 7F-1 is described as a typical elite residential group, with large vaulted masonry residences, a temple structure and associated platform, and service structures or outbuildings located around a central plaza. Carved monuments (Stelae 23 and 25), which may have been reset within the group, are associated with Group 7F-1. This is notable, given its remove from the site core, but further supports the group's royal connection.
The volume is organized by categories of excavated material (architecture, burials, caches and problematic deposits, artifacts, and monuments and miscellaneous stones), with synthesis offered in the concluding chapter; appendixes, including data and additional interpretations, and figures, including detailed captions, follow. The documentation of field investigations is impressive and comprehensive, providing a convincing foundation for the author's hypothesis-driven interpretation of this residential group. The rich detail of the text could be read as a sort of manual for excavation of complex architectural groups, providing in-depth description of archaeological process, reasoning, and interpretation. Haviland provides material criteria, such as burial types and suites of artifacts, that are useful for his analysis and also tools for comparison across other excavations. On the other hand, the meticulousness of the text makes it hard to define the broader impact of this work: the level of detail makes it a bit inaccessible, and not necessarily of wide interest, leading the reader to consider who the intended audience is and how the volume might be used or referenced. This volume is linked to other Tikal Reports through references, not only to the content of other volumes but also to specific figures within them. This underscores the larger body of valuable scholarship represented by the series, but is problematic in terms of the usefulness of this volume as a stand-alone resource. Rather than indicating issues with the research represented by this volume, these comments point to larger questions about the site report as a genre of publication and how the valuable information within it can best be preserved and disseminated in ways that maximize its utility and accessibility.
The Ixlú volume focuses on this small site located between Lake Salpetén and Lake Petén Itzá in the central lakes region of the Petén. It was occupied from the Middle Preclassic through the colonial period; Rice and Rice emphasize its strategic placement as a stop on major land and water routes, which gave it an important role in the movement of both people and materials. The thematic exploration of the site as an entrepôt drives their discussion, although this was not one of the goals that informed their fieldwork; this interpretation emerged out of postfield analysis of artifacts and spatial documentation (maps and aerial imagery). Excavations were carried out by Rice and Rice in 1994 and 1998. Their work built on previous documentation of the site by Sylvanus Morley, Franz Blom, and Eric von Euw and consisted of excavating 25 test units and horizontal exposure (removal of humus and collapse) at 14 structures. They collaborated closely with ethnohistorian Grant Jones, allowing Rice and Rice to place Ixlú in the context of a larger conflict between competing Late Postclassic and contact-period groups in the area. They conclude that the site functioned as a regional trade entrepôt and that it was disputed by the Itzas and the Kowojs during the Postclassic and Contact periods. Their concluding chapter explicitly raises intriguing and as-yet unresolved issues related to dating at the site, ambiguity in material expression of identity (they suggest this may have been intentional in the politically neutral space of a trading location), and uncertainty about how the port would have been governed. They also highlight the notable Structure 2023 shrine, which included cached human remains, deer antlers, large quantities of obsidian, and net weights; they have not yet been able to connect this ritual space with any of the competing groups in the area.
The volume is organized into chapters divided by time periods and topics rather than categories of material culture. This organization gives the book a clearer interpretive focus than the Tikal volume and immediately positions it as a work oriented toward comparison and connection with research on other sites. As a result, it is more likely to attract a somewhat wider range of readers. This accessibility is complemented by the integration of figures throughout the text and by the bibliography, which fosters connections with other work. This volume is also committed to accessibility through its bilingual format, in which facing pages are in English and Spanish; this move, championed by the University of Pittsburgh's Center for Comparative Archaeology, is wonderful in multiple ways. Not only does it make the volume linguistically accessible, it also acknowledges the ethical responsibility of foreign researchers to make results available to people in the host country. Furthermore, it encourages movement between archaeological languages, descriptions, and vocabularies, productively destabilizing hierarchies of scholarly reporting. The structure of the book is, however, less methodical than Haviland's and the resulting volume less exhaustive in terms of data presented; in this sense it lends itself less well to enabling the reader to reconstruct or revisit work done.
Although they address rather different sites and investigations, the two books share some topical similarities that make it meaningful to examine them in tandem. Both of these sites are surprising and defy our expectations. At Tikal, we find residents who are not just elite, but members of the royal family, inhabiting a space that is unexpected—at least in terms of geography, if not materiality—and that challenges assumptions about centrality, affiliation, and changes therein. In turn, Ixlú illustrates the ability of small sites to act as linchpins within larger systems: the Rices make a compelling argument for its important role as an entrepôt. Furthermore, details like elaborate carved monuments (Stelae 1 and 2, Altars 1 and 2) and the Structure 2023 shrine challenge expectations about what resources the residents of a site of this size can access or command. In both of these cases, we bump up against issues of categorization or standardization, or the lack thereof, in our interpretation of sites and remains—a reminder that we must be open to our data being meaningfully ill-behaved or unexpected, even as we analyze them in search of patterns. Perhaps related to the unexpected elements at these sites is the shared interpretive result that these sites exhibit manifestations of the negotiation of change: both volumes do an excellent job of tracing change in material terms and examining some of the lacunae where change is harder to see.
It is particularly productive to examine these two volumes together because they both squarely inhabit the genre of site reports and represent laudably responsible publication of excavation results. Archaeologists are in agreement that the inherently destructive nature of excavation necessitates the careful preservation and dissemination of documentary data. Publishing these data makes available the raw information upon which proposed interpretations are founded, and thus also provides a means of “undoing” archaeological work for those who may want to revisit excavations with new questions or perspectives. These ideals of publication are often stymied, however, by factors including the dedicated time needed to analyze, synthesize, and write up excavations (which means that such volumes may be delayed until late in archaeologists’ careers, as indicated by the emeritus/a status of the authors of the present volumes); the publishing landscape (which often favors monographs that will draw a larger audience); and requirements for promotion and tenure (which may prioritize topical or synthetic books and journal articles). These issues suggest the need for shifts in the format and the perceived value, or practical utility, of our excavation write-ups.
The two volumes accomplish publication of detailed excavation results in mainstream—that is, not gray—literature in somewhat different ways. Their complementary strengths spur us to ask: How do we move beyond site reports as an exercise or ritual in documentation? How can we present and preserve data in meaningful, accessible, and useful ways? Critical priorities include facilitating availability to multiple groups of users, including stakeholders in the country of research and both professionals and nonprofessionals, through language and medium of publication, and operationalizing connectivity and comparison across site reports, which would extend the inherent specificity of excavations in powerful ways. Digital formats for site reports coupled with digital forums for their dissemination could go a long way toward achieving these goals. Impacts would include reduced delays in publication, movement toward global accessibility, and the harnessing of digital abilities to link, tag, and move between datasets. Putting these tools into the hands of users would encourage ongoing interaction with multiple datasets by archaeologists. The result would be longer use lives and greater relevance for our excavation data, significantly extending their reach and impact.
