In the years following the 1947 consolidation of the communist government in Hungary, the architect Lászlo Miskolczy cautioned his young daughter Esther, advising, “Don't rise too high in any profession” (p. 11). Miskolczy had been pressed into government service, but because he refused to join the Communist Party, his family lived under a cloud of suspicion. The situation worsened in the wake of the Hungarian uprising of 1956. Miskolczy's family then fled Hungary, settling in New York where young Esther grew up to study precolumbian art history. Fortunately for us, she would—contrary to her father's admonishments—rise to her profession's apex. Esther Pasztory has written a memoir of these years, describing her journey from Budapest and her personal evolution from Hungarian to American, as well as the path that led her to precolumbian studies. But the book is more than that.
Exile Space has three sections. Section I, “Multiple Horizons: Tales from the Life of a Refugee,” is what the author describes as an “autobiography in a mosaic of short pieces” (p. 140), recounting moments from both her private life and her professional career with humor and insight. This section invites readers to undertake a similar process of introspection, making excellent reading for anyone, whether inside or outside academe.
The second section, titled “Stone Age Civilization in the New World,” is a compilation of short essays covering a variety of topics within the broader category of precolumbian studies, from crop domestication and experimentation in the Americas to the importance of fiber arts. Experts will no doubt find points with which to quibble, not the least of which is the utility of characterizing indigenous societies as “stone age.” Ultimately Pasztory argues that indigenous Americans made different choices from those made by human beings elsewhere in the world, privileging social engineering over technological advances. She employs a certain relativism, observing that circumstances created distinct realities to which societies responded. Still, the usefulness of labels such as “stone age” and “bronze age”—implying that there exists some universal, predictable course of technological development that aligns with levels of civilization—will ultimately elude the reader. Much of the comparative material between the so-called Old World and New, using labels that themselves seem to endorse European perspectives, seems old-fashioned. Yet Pasztory herself is aware that much of indigenous American history is, to the detriment of good scholarship, driven by questions of lack: why Indians did not develop one thing or another that Europeans consider(ed) indispensable, such as alphabetic writing, the wheel, and so on. In some of the most interesting passages, Pasztory turns the tables, wondering why Europe lacked some of the things and ideas that indigenous Americans value(d): the concept of cyclical time, extraordinary horticultural diversity, an “affection” for stone, a passion for intellectual games, and a reticence to embrace portraiture, among others. In contrast to popular thinking about precolumbian societies, Pasztory opines that most were more peaceful than not, with warfare engaged in sparingly or ritually as a means to renegotiate relationships or affirm bonds between communities. Reminding us of the misleading nature of much imagery, she points out that widespread depictions of warfare in art of the precolumbian era do not, in fact, mirror historical reality.
In this second section Pasztory does not shy away from controversial positions, foremost among them the suggestion that Maya glyphic writing was not sui generis, but rather is derived from Chinese writing, which she opines derives from Sumerian cuneiform (pp. 230–231). Readers will also find a provocative discussion of the ways many scholars (including herself) are able to study the American past “without the benefit of knowing Indians personally”; Pasztory advances the notion that indigenous people in the present must negotiate the “Indian past and the modern present” as though Indian identity belongs in history (p. 155). Nevertheless, and despite my reservations, this section is well worth reading in spite of—or maybe precisely because of—the fact that many of her ideas go against the grain. Even in disagreement, Pasztory presses the point that scholars must think through their positions and never adopt conventional wisdom without question. As she indicates, this section contains “a lifetime of ideas and hunches” and is intended to be challenging and constructive (p. 153). In this, Pasztory succeeds unambiguously.
The third section is titled “The Maya Vase”: it presents the fictional story of an archaeology graduate student who, while conducting dissertation research on the Classic period Maya city of Tikal, also begins to write a novel about a Mesoamerican princess. The student falls into her own text, becoming the princess; she marries a ruler of Tikal and is widowed before being summoned back to the present, where she investigates a murder involving departmental politics, crumbling romantic relationships, and a looted Maya vase. Many who study distant history will identify with the desire to visit the past. How many of us have fancied the idea of being sent back in time to witness firsthand the history we study, to be participant-observers in Maya ritual, to have an Inka khipukamayuq show us all the ways his knotted cords functioned, or to interview the painters of Cacaxtla's murals? Pasztory's tale is an entertaining romp across time, intertwining academic intrigue with the black market in stolen artworks. The heroine is a refugee in the past and among the Maya. Not unlike Pasztory, the Hungarian refugee, she finds herself comfortable in her new home, learning about it from the inside, but she is also always a newcomer in a very old, new world.
Throughout the book, Pasztory presents her audience with a highly readable text, written with wit and discernment. All who read Exile Space will be encouraged to think about the deep American past, a time before Columbus, before the Mayflower, and before borders were set up to divide colloquial “America” from the rest of America, in the fullest sense of the word.
