Alice RobertsRecensioni

If you have Western European ancestry, odds are strong that you have some Celtic ancestry in there. Who are the Celts? What can we know about them?

Alice Roberts wrote The Celts: Search for a Civilization as a companion book to her BBC2 television three-part series The Celts: Blood, Iron, and Sacrifice (https://youtu.be/zA-itb5NwDU?si=gTOPnkXeqObpdt4g ; not the greatest quality, caveat emptor). I read the book and then watched the series, and feel as if both prove helpful and beneficial, and in that order.

The reason why the television series proves important involves the Celts and the nature of the evidence: they did not leave us with a collection of texts. We have some stories and myths from the British and Irish Isles which were written down far later but seem to preserve some of the Celtic stories, and that which was written about the Celts, primarily by the Greeks and Romans who encountered them. Most of what we know from the Celts themselves comes as a result of archaeological explorations: sites and burials. Thus, the visual medium proves very helpful in getting a good mental picture of what we can know about the Celts.

The television series, understandably according to the nature of the medium, is more straightforward in its presentation. Each episode is framed by one of the three great battles between Rome and Celtic people: Brennus and the Celtic defeat and destruction of Rome in 387 BCE; Julius Caesar defeating Vercingetorix at Alesia in modern-day France in 52 BCE; Boudica’s revolt and its violent suppression in Britain in 60 or 61 CE. All of the various sites and discoveries which are profiled in the book are presented, although in different orders: the Hallstatt salt mines, the fort at Heuneburg, the Hochdorf Prince, torcs of the Snettisham Hoard, evidence of La Tène and the La Tène culture, the Tartessian inscriptions of the 8th century BCE, the Celtic dispersion into Galatia and the evidence at Gordion, the “Dying Gaul” and the Vachères Warrior, the Gunderstrup Cauldron, the Glauberg Warrior, the Bettebühl Princess, bog people and possible sacrifice of kings by the Druids, and the like.

The show presents all of this data and these discoveries and suggests almost a seamless whole: the Celts as people sharing a language family spread across Portugal, Spain, France, Great Britain, Ireland, the Alpine regions of Switzerland, Italy, and Austria, and parts of southern Germany at least, from at least 800 BCE and the end of the European Bronze Age and enduring, at least in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Cornwall, and Brittany, until modern times.

What seems confidently set forth in the television series is presented with a lot more apprehension and many more questions in the book. The same evidence is there: Greek and Roman narratives; archaeological discoveries; linguistic data; myths and stories which likely reflect at least some authentic Celtic memory.

The basic claim seems pretty audacious: since archaeological and DNA data do not suggest anything like the major disruptions in Western Europe as took place with the Yamnaya and the Corded Ware Culture of the early 3rd millennium BCE, and the Germanic and various steppe people migrations of the 1st millennium CE, most of what we understand as Western Europe was therefore populated by various tribes of people known to the Greeks and Romans as the Celts. Evidence of a Celtic language can be perceived in Tartessian inscriptions ca. 800 BCE in Portugal; Celtic languages persist in Brittany and the British and Irish Isles; and Celtic aspects of names can still be discerned in place names in Western Europe. To this end, whatever material culture remains are discovered in Western Europe from the Bronze and Iron Ages are thus associated with the Celts and as Celtic.

The Tartessian inscription evidence is fascinating and begs the question: if some people of Celtic heritage around 2700 years ago perceived some benefit in the idea of writing, and even worked to modify Phoenician to add vowels and suit their purposes, what happened? People deemed Celtic by the Greeks and Romans manifestly had interactions with Phoenicians, Greeks, and Romans; the fort at Heuneburg featured a Phoenician style not otherwise in evidence in Western Europe. Thus they associated, to some degree, with people who wrote and had writing, and some of them even tinkered with writing. So why did they not develop their own writing system and write things down?

The question is live and active because these questions which arise about who the Celts are and how they would understand themselves will be nearly impossible to answer because we have so little evidence of anything in their own voice. We can note points of cultural and linguistic connections between the Iberian Peninsula and the British and Irish Isles; we can see the archaeological evidence from France and the Alpine regions of central Europe which come from places which will have people deemed Celtic. They all probably did speak an Indo-European language, and their languages might all have been in what we deem the Celtic family. We do know they lived in various tribes, and so ostensibly would have some points of cultural continuity but also discontinuity.

The book and the television series do well at presenting what evidence we have for the people who inhabited what we know as Western Europe from around 1000 BCE until the Roman conquest, and in many respects beyond. We know they were called the Celts, a term which seems to refer to “warriors,” and had tribal names and associations. They likely spoke languages in the same language family and perhaps remained mostly mutually intelligible. We know there were religious figures known as Druids but can only speculate about much of what “Celtic religion” would have been. We see significant material remains demanding significant cultural complexity, presenting undeniable evidence of civilization. But our understanding remains limited, and questions will remain live and open.

A difficult to like and difficult to access book. I couldn’t really see where it was pitched. I quite like the writing style and initial introduction had me intrigued, but it was difficult to follow as an audiobook and I do wonder whether having pictures of the different types of horticulture and agriculture that was on, the authors mind would’ve been really useful. I think there’s a lot here that’s worth listening to and I think that anyone with an interesting environmental science will also enjoy this. There is also an audience here for people who have an interest in the near future, and in particular, the effects of climate change on that.½

Anatomical Oddities is an attractive nonfiction book that is something of a niche read. It would likely be most appreciated by someone who’s both an anatomy and an etymology enthusiast. Author Alice Roberts, a specialist in human anatomy and physiology, explores the human body and traces “stories of discovery in human anatomy.” She features over fifty structures (drawing on multiple body systems), often explaining how those structures function, and giving careful consideration to their names. She notes that around two thirds of medical terms are Greek, usually passed through a Latin filter, and sometimes through an Arabic one. (During the Dark Ages, 500-1100 AD, it was Muslim scholars who preserved medical and scientific knowledge.)

The names of some body parts point to what those things look like, and the use of metaphors is common. Hence we have the kidney’s glomerulus, a knot of capillaries (tiny blood vessels), involved in filtering the blood and producing raw urine. Glomerulus is the diminutive form of “glomus”, Latin for “a ball of yarn”, which is pretty much what this structure looks like. Other anatomical names tell what structures do. For example, a ligament—from the Latin noun “ligamentum”, a binding or bandage—binds bones together. Finally, some of our body parts are named after those who discovered them. Within the shafts of long bones, networks of blood vessels run through longitudinal channels, called Haversian canals, named after British physican Clopton Havers. Using a microscope, he’d discovered pores, evidence of those channels. No, he couldn’t see the blood vessels in them, and he believed that they allowed oil from the marrow to permeate the bone . . . but still, he did identify those channels in the late 17th century.

I’m not clear about the author’s criteria for the selection of her oddities. Some of the body parts featured didn’t strike me as particularly unusual. Why were sphincters— donut-shaped rings of muscle that can relax (and open) or tighten (and close)— included? We humans have quite a few, but I fail to see what so odd about them. The duodenum, the first part of the small intestine, into which partially digested food from the stomach is emptied, also doesn’t seem overly remarkable either. Was it because of the name, from the Latin meaning “twelve each”? The Greek physician Herophilus (353-280) apparently discovered that this structure was 12 finger-widths in length.

This brings me to one of my main complaints about the book. I am interested in etymology, but the author really goes into the weeds at times. Her discussion of the origin of the word thyroid, from the Greek “thyreos”, is a case in point:

“The word thyreos means a ‘door-shaped’ shield—coming from a hypothetical Proto-Indo-European word dhwer, which becomes duvara in Old Persian and the more familiar dor in Old English. The leading consonant changes in Latin to give us forum—for a public space, outdoors.”

Some sections read a little too much like anatomy textbook entries. Unlike the images found in good anatomy texts, however, the illustrations here are poor. They’re too small and lack detail. While I do have some knowledge of human anatomy, it’s not recent, and the densely detailed descriptions were sometimes hard going. I had to check for clearer online anatomical images to help me understand them. I can’t imagine attempting to read this book without any prior knowledge of anatomical features or terms. (I have no complaints about the author’s own imaginative artistic renderings of body parts. They’re quite delightful and make a very nice addition.)

There’s a wealth of information in this book, some of it quite fascinating, but I’m afraid that reading it was a bit more work than expected. I can’t say I found it consistently enjoyable.

Thank you to Net Galley and the publisher for providing me with an advance reading copy for review purposes.

One of the more engaging books I’ve read recently. It combines a wide-ranging accessible account with a real evocation of leading-edge science (and, even more importantly, the history of leading-edge science).½

Starting from finds of archaeological excavations of a number of burials, this book discusses what we can now, with current technology, learn from them and about the people they were and the people who buried them. This then links to a discussion about the usual accepted history of Britain, and how the archaeological record frequently tells a different story. Fascinating from the beginning to the end.

Anatomical Oddities by Alice Roberts is a fun read that is also very interesting.

I don't think I would have used the word "oddities" in the title, but I'm not sure what else would work. Many of the body parts are commonly known is why I would have preferred a different word. The key, however, is that this is an informative and visually engaging book. The pictures ranged from what seems to be fairly accurate (though uniquely colored) to almost abstract (I'm thinking of the illustration for the sella turcica). But Roberts makes sure we know where to look when the drawing is more creative, so it still works quite well.

The writing is very accessible, whether describing the body part and its function or the etymological origins of the name. Each entry is fairly short, a page, so the book can be read straight through or kept handy for when you want to dip in for a bit. Though smaller than what you normally think of as a coffee table book, it would serve that function beautifully. It is visually fun and with short self-contained entries, it can be skimmed or flipped through and start plenty of conversations when you have company.

Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.½

42. The Incredible Unlikeliness of Being: Evolution and the Making of Us by Alice Roberts
OPD: 2014
format: 361-page Kindle ebook
acquired: July 1 read: Jul 1-27 time reading: 11:03, 1.8 mpp
rating: 4
genre/style: Popular Science theme: Naturalitsy
about the author: English academic, TV presenter and author, born in Bristol, 1973

Read with the Naturalitsy group on Litsy, this was a surprisingly difficult read. Several people dropped out early. It's not hard on the sentence level. Roberts is a radio personality and writes in a chatty tone that is enjoyable. It's just very dense. It's essentially a human anatomy book, and human anatomy has a lot of parts, and Roberts wants to cover everything. So chapters have a tendency to go on and on.

But if you're ok tolerating that, you will be rewarded. The information is terrific, maybe exceptional. Roberts brings in a variety of ideas and hunts down perspectives, and it left me feeling very up-to-date. Highlights include ideas on the human spine, brain, the muscles we only use when run, the human trick of turning our palms up (a trick most mammals lack), all the intricate movements behind throwing - something we do really well. Did you know human knees are pronated? And there is all the evolutionary theory behind this all. Her chapter on genitals is fantastic, maybe the best chapter in the book ... but I was too shy to bring that up in our discussion.

Recommended to the willing.

2023
https://www.librarything.com/topic/351556#8203293

I have read books about at least 3 of these chapters, but it was delightful to learn new things, newly discovered things. Her arguments seemed pretty balanced (and I'm gauging from where I disagree slightly), her writing was clear, and I found her to be quite funny, not in a gimmicky way but just in her phrasing and observations. I'm a fan. This has been on my list since before Adam Rutherford, but I'm delighted by their professional relationship and dialogue as I've since discovered it.

I originally came across this book via a recommendation in "Ancient Paths" by Graham Robb (Which falls into the circular argument trap that Alice Roberts describes about looking for confirming evidence for a theory). But I've found Robert's book to be vaguely dissatisfying. She simply leaves a lot out. Quite a lot. For example, there is no discussion of the ancient paths that Robb talks about in great depth. And, whilst, I think he exaggerates the ubiquity of the paths...there does seem to be some significance to the location of religious sites etc which is based on ancient astronomy. And no coverage of Astronomy and the ancient sites like Stonehenge....which appear to have been used by the Celts...if not actually created by them,. And there is virtually no coverage of the Druids and their religious activities and their coordinating influence across Europe. (Well a little but it's very little). Roberts seems to be very hung-up on linguistic clues to the origins of the Celts and to the longevity of values, customs and myths...which even current experience (with "fake news" and language morphing for example) is demonstrably very plastic and, I think, unreliable.
A basic theme of the book is to dispel the idea that the Celts originated in central Europe...near the source of the Danube and spread by a series of migrations from here...both westwards and eastwards and to the south. I'm reasonably happy with the approach which she seems to adopt from Barry Cunliffe that this approach is wrong. That culture and language was transmitted quite effectively by individuals (such as miners and traders ) moving between countries with small scale migration. The DNA evidence (which Roberts doesn't really give enough attention to) indicates that in Britain, anyway, the influx of relatively recent genes from Europe is small and most of the ancestors were already in place. In fact, I guess, that the whole area was inhabited originally by the neanderthals who were then displaced (and interbred) by the later migrations of homo sapiens. And changes that were wrought upon these early settlers came about through some invasions and migrations but also via the mechanisms that Roberts describes...getting together for feasts and exchange of marriage partners, trade, movement of priests and "missionaries" who spread ideas and maybe new technology. As she says in the Epilogue: "I've travelled right across Europe, trying to grasp these people, and they just keep on slipping through my fingers. But I've realized that's because we need to make up our minds about who they are. Is it a biological definition, a genetic definition, or a definition based on language, on art, or some other aspect of culture?"
Do you think part of the problem is that we've always been taught that the Celts appeared from somewhere - almost as if through a trapdoor in history - when in fact the truth is that they were the descendants of people that had been there all along?
Think we've been totally hoodwinked by this nineteenth-century idea that there was an Iron Age invasion of Britain and Ireland that brought Celtic language and culture with it.
There were some people who came to Britain and Ireland - not so much in the iron Age, probably in the bronze Age - bringing the Celtic language with them. But they didn't wipe out the people that were there before. They introduced the language and that language took root, and people still speak it here - which is wonderful........The Romans were the people who wrote about the Celts, and we turn to them again and again to try to understand who the Celts were. But then we have that Roman veneer - they dumped their civilization over the Celts. It's because of the Romans that we can't see the Celts". A big part of the problem was that the Celts scarcely wrote anything down, So no written records.
The book is especially interesting in that it describes the clear lack of agreement by archeologists on their methodology. I was fascinated by the revelation that the Germans resolutely rejected any hypothesis that the Celts had Iberian origins....yet this was welcomed by the Spanish. So modern politics and "My team" first seems to prevail even in the (supposedly) scientific world for Archeology.
To my mind, the same sort of "My team first" thinking rather pervades Roberts whole book...where she seems to take a position of an overly strong role for Britain in the Celtic story. though finally, it is a story of the movement of ideas rather than people that brought about the Celtic people. Oh, one further thought, and this relates to a book I read about the role of mercenary forces in the Ancient world and especially the importation of the Galatians into (modern day) Turkey. They became a thorn in the side of many rulers in subsequent centuries and hired themselves out to many different and opposing sides over the subsequent years.....including a big contingent who settled in Egypt. (Though the evidence from Egypt is that though they were supposed to be a force who were ready, at a moment's notice, to leap to arms....the reality was that they became a bit soft and within one generation were paying more attention to their farms than the defence of the current Ptolemy.
An interesting read but vaguely superficial. I give it four stars.

An interesting look at burials as a source of information about people who lived in pre historic Britain. Also a review of changing archaeological techniques over the centuries. A bit wordy and repetivite at times but with nice, relaxed diversions and meanders along the way. My only complaint? Ms Roberts warns against imposing our own cultural values on societies from long ago in our interpretation of how they lived. And then proceeds to put modern day cultural values to work in her interpretations.

Sort of an impulse purchase, as I hadn't heard anything about this book, but a book about evolution with the improbability of it leading to us as the frame rather than the teleological "people as pinnacle" simplification was an easy sell. Evidently it was an easy sell to my kids, too, as I put this on the bedtime story shelf and one of the kids picked it out.

I love including science non-fiction into family story time, and this was mostly at an appropriate level for our crew (one 10, one 14/15 at the time.) There were a few parts that got a little dry/theoretical, but the diagrams helped. My youngest did get squeamish during the discussion of the development of sex organs, but we all survived.

I hadn't really done much reading on embryology -- on just how an embryo transforms into an actual human, so there was even more new information for me here than I expected.

A fascinating read.

Beginning chapters with a particular archaeological find, Roberts gently provides the historical context in an easily accessible narrative style. This is a series of archaeological “snapshots” from Britain in the first millennium. Well written and showing wide knowledge of the period, I didn’t find this as engaging as her previous book, Ancestors.
We start in Roman Britain, with the cremated remains in a rectangular lead canister with a “pipe” to the surface in a stone-lined chamber at Caerleon. The remains were discovered in the 1920’s, but Roberts re-examines them telling the story of the probable funerary rites.

We then move to Yewden Roman Villa and the potentially upsetting discovery of evidence of obstetric surgery for an obstructed labour (or perhaps abortion) on a 36-37 week old foetus. Roberts discusses increased infant mortality in non-modern, first world locations and different burial practices for infants.

This is followed by discussion of decapitated burials, starting with an example of seventeen decapitated Roman period burials at Great Whelnetham cemetery, near Bury St Edmunds, which distinguishes between victims of beheadings and post-mortem decapitations. Roberts emphasises that there can be no ‘one size fits all’ approach to the post-mortem decapitations, discussing possible fear of revenants, the ‘evil dead’, but also considering the idea that that some may be slaves.
https://archaeology.co.uk/articles/news/deviant-burials-discovered-near-bury-st-...
Although this may all sound very “dry” and academic, Roberts is able to make me empathise with the possible fates of the individuals of whom all that remains are these bones, and tentatively suggest the non-aristocratic lives they may represent. The lack of evidence always means that there are no simple answers, just a number of hypotheses, or believable stories.

A metal detectorist located a beautifully designed Byzantine brass bucket at Breamore, Hampshire, and a Time Team archaeological dig then found the remains of an early Anglo-Saxon cemetery. Roberts looks at whether the findings from the site might indicate a warriors’ burial ground, a (Justinian) plague cemetery or perhaps a cemetery from a battle.

Chapter 5 starts with a description of the Staffordshire Hoard buried in the mid-seventh century - “there's about 4 kilograms of gold in the hoard, 1.7 kilograms of silver and thousands of garnets. It's the largest hoard in Europe, let alone Britain.”
However, Roberts makes the point that whilst rich in artefacts, hoards have no archaeological context, so she goes on to discuss the review of artefacts found at a large Anglo-Saxon cemetery at the Meads, northwest of Sittingbourne in Kent amongst other sites.
Chapter 6 discusses skeletons found in a ditch at Llanbedrgoch on Anglesey, were they Welsh defenders of the site, captured Viking raiders, or slaves. Again there are no definitive answers, just possibilities that may make greater sense given the other material finds at the site.

Chapter 7 discusses the “Birth of Churchyards”:
Churchyards in the popular imagination seem like obvious, natural places to find graves, but they only start to appear in Britain from the sixth century as part of the culture of Christianity. None of the Roman or early Anglo-Saxon burials we've paused to look at on this journey through the first millennium took place inside settlements (apart from those infant burials). And yet, by the ninth century, pretty much everyone living in what had once been the Roman Empire - and where the Roman religion had taken root was buried in a church graveyard. The preceding centuries saw a gradual transformation of burial practices, as former out-of-town cemeteries fell into disuse, and churchyards became the final destination of choice.
Chapter 8 looks at how archaeological DNA analysis (aDNA) is allowing archaeologists to ask and sometimes answer questions that couldn’t previously have been answered with such certainty:
This is the archaeological culture war: in one corner, culture-history, massive migrations and population replacement; in the other, cultural diffusion, a dissemination of ideas while the population stays put. Like any culture war, it's much too polarised and too clearly defined. History - people - are much messier than that. The answers are much more likely to lie somewhere in the middle. They sure as hell won't be simple - and each 'event' would also have been different and unique. And we're only just starting to get the data we need to understand these transitions.
Roberts discusses these ideas, but doesn’t yet have genomic results to help push the discussion further with empirical data, so that although interesting, this chapter rehashed ideas that I have read about in other recent books about this period.

In the first chapter Roberts includes some thoughts about belief systems and burial rites relevant to the cremated bones of a Roman burial, but she pushes her personal views just a little too much in my opinion for what is otherwise a relatively objective analysis, which I felt was a disappointment, although I don’t personally disagree with the views she expresses.

Real Rating: 3.75* of five, rounded up because *I* really liked it

The Publisher Says: The presenter of the BBC's The Incredible Human Journey gives us a new and highly accessible look at our own bodies, allowing us to understand how we develop as an embryo, from a single egg into a complex body, and how our embryos contain echoes of our evolutionary past.

Bringing together the latest scientific discoveries, Professor Alice Roberts illustrates that evolution has made something which is far from perfect. Our bodies are a quirky mix of new and old, with strokes of genius alongside glitches and imperfections which are all inherited from distant ancestors. Our development and evolutionary past explains why, as embryos, we have what look like gills, and as adults we suffer from back pain.

This is a tale of discovery, not only exploring why and how we have developed as we have, but also looking at the history of our anatomical understanding. It combines the remarkable skills and qualifications Alice Roberts has as a doctor, anatomist, osteoarchaeologist and writer. Above all, she has a rare ability to make science accessible, relevant and interesting to mainstream audiences and readers.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: A narrative approach to a complex scientific study that's occupied Humanity for millennia is going to fall short in both rigor and scope. In that sense, Dr Roberts was doomed from the outset. What anyone who undertakes such an enterprise anyway chooses, then, is to fail in a particular way. In the case of Dr Roberts, an actual, practicing scientist, the choice was obvious: rigor, begone therefore to allow me the scope to speak directly to the audience for this book.

I'm quoting this bit from the chapter entitled "RIBS, LUNGS, AND HEARTS":

When I look at an archaeological skeleton, the first thing I do is lay out the bones in an anatomical arrangement, as though the individual were laying on {their} back, arms by the sides, palm uppermost. Then I make an inventory of the bones, before moving on to look at each bone more carefully, taking note of features that might help me to determine the age and sex of the individual, as well as any telltale signs of disease.

Ribs can be a real pain—they're often broken into short fragments—but after some patient work on this jigsaw puzzle, it's possible to put them in order. A human chest is shaped like a barrel that has been squashed front to back, and the shape of the individual ribs reflects their position.

Careful, clear, and just a bit humorous...you got the "pain" play on words, right?...but the next sections are peppered with "rectus abdominis muscles" and a list of hominin names like Homo rudolfiensis and Homo habilis and we're way out of most people's comfort zone. This explains, I hope, my mingy-seeming rating.

What this book is doing, that is presenting the astounding evolutionary development of the Homo sapiens writing and reading this review, is very valuable. In and of itself, the existence of this project is heartening and necessary. There is an audience for science stuff that wants to know a lot of the material in here. But there aren't that many of us. Dumbing down, as any scientist wishing to communicate with laypersons absolutely must do, is a process of selection and elision. Author Roberts (I typoed "Riberts" and thought long and hard about just leaving it to see if anyone noticed) chose well, for me at my level of interest and information. But what about everyone else?

Choices, in any event, were made and they were illustrated with interestingly detailed line drawings and they were developed to a deeper level than I would've advised she take them; but Professor Doctor Author Roberts is a skilled communicator and (if one is willing to put in the work) will reveal to her readers an astoundingly inspiring story of unlikely events that came up with the form and function of the Homo sapiens she wrote this fascinating, but dense, book to inform and educate.

Alice Roberts, a paleoanthropologist and embryologist, uses insights from both fields to give a detailed account of how we develop in the womb. A veteran TV presenter, she writes in a scientifically well-founded yet accessible manner. I should clarify what I mean by accessible: This is not at the dumbed-down end of the spectrum. Instead, I found it required careful attention and occasional recourse to my dictionary. Even then, it was challenging to keep various terms straight. But that’s fine. When I read a book of popular science, I like to be stretched a bit.
My two takeaways from the book may seem contradictory, but to me, they are complementary. On the one hand, tracing the development of an embryo, then a fetus offers more convincing evidence for evolution than the study of adult species. The yolk sac alone is compelling. On the other, when you consider all that has to go right for conception to occur and to result in a viable live birth, it is incredible that we exist at all (see the book title). My name for the reason there is anything at all rather than nothing is God. Your mileage may vary.
Back to evolution: I was fascinated to learn in this book that while natural selection, as proposed by Darwin, is at work, it is not the only mechanism contributing to evolution. There is, for example, epigenetics (which, Roberts points out, is not the same as the discredited view of epigenesis). But I was also interested to read that epigenesis is only one of several discarded views (recapitulation and preformation are others) that nonetheless contained a grain of truth. All in all, this was an interesting lesson in how science develops.
Roberts repeatedly addresses the question of whether the human species is unique. In one sense, of course, it is—that’s what makes it a species. But the same is true of every other species, so that doesn’t take us much further. More relevant is our tendency to view ourselves as the pinnacle of life, which is a holdover from picturing life as climbing an ascending ladder (scala naturae). Instead, as many from Darwin to Gould have pointed out, a more appropriate metaphor is a tree of life. Additionally, the characteristics we point to when defining the species (habitual bipedalism, opposing thumb, large brain size) turn out to be not absolute differentiators from other species but a matter of degree.
Although this book required effort and concentration, I felt the payoff was worth it.

Who were the Celts? I had a sort of confused image between the Welsh/Scots ...but ancient Europeans too (recalled Celtic settlements in Croatia).
This was a BRILLIANT book, trying to get true facts rather than blindly going along with traditional narratives ("waves of immigration from Central Europe".) Looking at the often very different tribes of Bromze/Iron Age Europe, there's often no certainty that there was much of a link. Miss Roberts observes that foreign artefacts can be due to trade or an exchange of ideas/ tastes...not necessarily immigration. And likewise, Celtic ideas cancome to permeate the lives of non-Celtic tribes. She's loth to put a romantic interpretation on "ritual buials" without definitive proof. Or to necessarily take the Romans' writings on the Celts as gospel truth.
And the final twist is that latest findings suggest the Celts first emerged in the Iberian peninsula..
Despite leaving us with many unanswered questions, it's a fascinating look at ancient history. Superb.

This book has been on my reading list for years: not only did I watch the original TV series, I also briefly met the author after an event in 2017, and the wait has been absolutely worth it! She writes with clear enthusiasm and a passion for her subject, and her scientific analysis cum travelogue is always very readable and often incredibly fascinating, even if she sometimes forgets that not all her readers will be familiar with some of the specialist terminology; fortunately, there are only a few instances scattered throughout the book, and while the general gist is (mostly) clear, a more detailed description or illustration would have been helpful.

The book is divided into five parts (each focusing on a different region of colonisation) and in each she meets with local experts in the field to be shown artefacts and to discuss theories, as well as with locals to experience the different culture and language.

Sadly the book is now somewhat dated in places, especially where the question of interbreeding with archaic humans (in this case Neanderthals, and possibly also Denisovans) is concerned: the general consensus at the time of writing was still that it didn't take place, or only to such a limited extent that genetics shows no trace of it today; I believe the revelation came shortly after the book's publication in 2009. I found out recently that I have 2 per cent Neanderthal DNA myself! It would be great if Alice Roberts could write updates for a second edition at some point, as I believe there have been further advances in genetics and archaeological discoveries since then.

Based on a BBC series Alice Roberts did with Neil Oliver, this book charts the different ways to define what it means to be a Celt or Celtic in the Bronze and Iron Ages, and what the archaelogical finds suggests about the spread of cultures and peoples. An easy quick read.½

A good introduction to a selection of recent excavations (or reconsiderations) of prehistoric sites in Britain from before the most recent Ice Age to late Iron Age and discussion of the genomic technique being used (or which will be used) to identify whether changes in culture (neolithic to copper age etc) were accompanied by influxes of settlers from the continent.
As well as a detailed consideration of the specific excavations chosen, Alice Roberts digresses occasionally with “quite interesting” facts and also onto contemporary issues (immigration, gender identity, religion and the Covid-19 pandemic), before bringing matters back to the archaeology. This can appear to be trying to bring extraneous issues to the reader’s attention, but Roberts does usually convincingly show how these current issues relate to the past, either directly or from our interpretation of the past. I did find it a bit annoying though, and it will date the book.
There is also a long second chapter about the “Red Lady” excavated at Paviland Cave, which I had read about at least twice before, but it is the major early burial, so Roberts probably had no choice but to discuss this burial.
I also formed the impression that this was not the polished book that Roberts might have hoped to complete, as some of the genome research has been delayed by prioritising Covid-19 work, and reports for other excavations have not yet been completed. However, this does not detract from the book, and makes one appreciate all the more that archaeology is a developing subject and not static.
This is my first book by Roberts, and I had not realised that she was a TV personality (although I had seen her in BBC programmes on the Celts and Stonehenge), so she does play to this expectation in her writing some of the time. This did work for me, as it made the book more personal and engaging, especially her trips to Salisbury Museum and discussion of Lane Fox Pitt Rivers (there is material for another book there!).
Overall, I enjoyed this book for the details of new excavations and the Salisbury Museum segments. I wouldn’t recommend it for your first British archaeology book (I read Britain Begins by Barry Cunliffe about five years ago and would recommend that), but it is good general book to read if you want to explore further.

A nice and inspiring book for humanist. It is a much needed book about humanism, providing various view points on several aspects of humanism. It isn't a bible, which implies immutable, ineffable truths and judgmental authoritarianism. It is a thought-provoking guide. It isn't perfect, but there is nothing wrong with it, which is extremely fitting. I look forward to returning to it for years to come. It's going up on my fire shelf - the shelf where I store books to rescue in the event of a fire.½

One of those books that's bought largely as a comfort - a validation of one's general world view, and reassurance that it's one that's been shared with a sensible subset of the world population for centuries, if little heard among the razzmatazz of the more obviously visible and audible ones.

Thanks goes to Netgalley!

This book tries to do a couple of things, and while I have no direct issue with any of its aims in any one particular, I kept asking myself a very important question, and asked it often, namely: "Who is this author writing to?"

At the opening, I got the impression that this was going to be a grateful pat-on-the-back for all evolutionists and those who believe in science and reason, and indeed, this is what happens, but instead of a few long focuses on a few of the pieces that make humans beautiful and just like the animals we come from, it gets bogged down "hip bone connected to the thigh bone" syndrome.

Instead of a readable series of anecdotes (whether personal, which there are quite a few, or a history of science, which there are also quite a few,) we're also subject to what reads like a first or second year college biology textbook, or perhaps even worse, because it's meant to name drop and exact upon us the price of knowledge without having the depth or experience of being an anatomist, general biologist, or just being extremely well read.

I'm no expert, but I followed most of this book pretty well and understood where the author was headed nicely and enjoyed a number of new info-pieces that I had never come across before. As a reader of lots of fiction and non-fiction, I know there's a fine line to be drawn between too much info-dump or too little, especially in popular non-fiction, but then there's the importance of my repeated question. "Who is this writer writing to?"

If you're reading this book, you're probably already a convert to the alter of science. Aye. My opinion isn't going to change after being shown hundreds and hundreds of examples how and why we're similar to so many kinds of animals. I understood that a long time ago. If she ISN'T writing a book to convert us, then this gigantic overview of the grandeur of the human body might have been better served as a slightly MORE detailed book (or series of books) with a lot more time spent teaching with a lot more depth. Unfortunately, even that's out of the scope for a book of this length, so I'm back to my initial question.

It dawned on me, late in the read, that the book might be best served as something to put on your coffee table. Anyone who's attempted to read it will know just how either *scary* trying to get through it is and will be doubly impressed that *you* got through it, or your scientist friend will see it on the table and proceed to write down all the other books that you should have started with.

If you just want to impress your educated friends and don't want to actually read this book, just display it, then it's probably a fine choice. If they pick it up and thumb through it, they'll pick up on the author's enthusiasm, may recognize her from her science shows (which I have never watched,) and they'll open their mouths in wide "O"s when the big words start tumbling across the page.

I know, I know, I sound like some uneducated yokel when I say this, but I seriously wanted to DNF this book many times. It was either extremely remedial in long passages or I was completely out of my depth in others.

I loved the portions on the brain and our sex organs, thought the one on the eye was rather cool, too, but for everything else, I either had a hard time keeping my eyes focused or I started questioning some fundamental aspect about the book, such as: Where are the symbiotes and all the biota that make up the human body in concert with our standard, not much different DNA from the Fruit Fly? Where is the expression of our DNA explored and how did we become what we are from all these many different starting points that follow from the fish and the primates and so many others? I'd have LOVED to see a lot more pondering along those lines, getting my blood pumping from some cutting-edge theories as well as the history of what we USED to think.

I'm no expert. I never claimed to be.

But... I also don't think I was the right reader for this book. It was either way too many details and being bogged down in the author's big brain or it was way too few, without the precise and logical steps to prove a thesis.

I wanted to like it a lot more, but I don't think it was a complete waste of time. I did get some enjoyment out of it. Maybe it ought to be read in a piecemeal way, grabbing the pieces of the anatomy that interests you the most.

Updated my rating to three rather than four stars, not because the book is bad (it's not), but because I thought it was rather confused about who it was for. There would be sections that I imagine are accessible to the layperson, then rather technical parts with a lot of anatomy jargon. This mix meant that I'm not sure who I'd recommend it to. The idea behind the book is great, but I think I'd rather a proper textbook *or* a more accessible pop-science book rather than an uneasy hybrid.

I will be returning to it though, and it's full of useful resources at the back. It definitely piqued my interest in comparative anatomy. I'll want to read [b:Your Inner Fish: A Journey into the 3.5-Billion-Year History of the Human Body|1662160|Your Inner Fish A Journey into the 3.5-Billion-Year History of the Human Body|Neil Shubin|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1320439515s/1662160.jpg|1656975] to complement this one I think.

The sections on reproductive anatomy, the heart, and bipedalism were all fascinating to me. As someone who didn't specialise in humans, there's a lot to learn. The progression of ideas was logical, and I'm glad there was an explicit challenging of the "ladder of evolution" idea. There's the inevitable appearance of the recapitulation theory, and good explanations for why that isn't the best one. If you already have a background in life sciences this can introduce you to a whole area you may have neglected, and there's something to be said for evolutionary examples taken from the human body itself - they are very relatable.

Family Histories; Roberts; Atkinson; Drouin; Memoirs; Local Families