Images from the Underworld: Naj Tunich and the Tradition of Maya Cave Painting [Englisch] [Gebundene Ausgabe]

In 1979, the Naj Tunich cave in Guatemala was discovered and found to contain a wealth of ancient Mayan paintings and hieroglyphic writing. This discovery, and the National Geographic cover article that followed (Stuart GE, Aug. 1981, p. 220), prompted a surge of interest in Mesoamerican cave art and cave archeology. One might have expected the ancient Mayas to shun caves, which were entrances to the dangerous underworld in Mayan mythology, and dwellings of hazardous supernatural beings, but possibly these very features made caves important landmarks of the "sacred geography" of Mesoamerican culture.

New World cave paintings are scanty in comparison with the better-known and much more extensive Paleolithic cave art of Europe. Nevertheless, there are about 40 known Mesoamerican painted caves, ranging in date from the Archaic to the Colonial Periods; 25 of these are discussed in this book. Dr. Stone's focus, however, is on the Naj Tunich cave, and its extensive Late Classic Mayan painting (A.D. 692-771).

Dr. Stone presents a quite readable discussion of Mesoamerican cave painting, and describes, at least in a cursory way, many of the known sites. She then presents a catalog of the Naj Tunich paintings, illustrated by drawings and photographs. Many of the photographs predate the extensive and tragic vandalism that occurred in 1989. Twelve color plates are included, although the use of colored pigment was seemingly minimal at Naj Tunich; overall the book is extensively and seemingly comprehensively illustrated.

Other than painting, exactly what the Mayans did, barefoot by the flickering light of torches, within those caverns is unknown. Presumably much activity was of a ritual character. However, a few drawings are of an erotic nature, which is evidently unusual in Mayan art. The author's speculation about these perhaps tells us as much about the author as about anything else; she pictures a male-only assembly (page 145), removed from public (and female) observation, leering and chuckling lewdly at bawdy drawings and performances. This postulated behavior is lacking (perhaps regrettably) in most such assemblies of which I have been a part, but, hey, it could happen. But reading all such speculations invariably recalls stories of future archeologists digging up our civilization and concluding that we worshipped a deity named Coca-Cola.

Interestingly, Michael D. Coe (in "Breaking the Maya Code") says that some of the Naj Tunich paintings depict "realistic homoerotic encounters." Either Dr. Coe was wrong or some editing has occurred; certainly no such encounters are illustrated or described. If there is indeed some bowdlerization of the cave's described content, it is a pity. A contemporary Mayan guide once told me that the great Mayan cities had been abandoned because of the scandalous homosexual behavior of the ruling classes. Perhaps this was intended to shock the credulous gringo, but there could a grain of distant truth in it. Further, a homophobic or puritanical response to homoerotic drawings might in part account for the deliberate, systematic, and vicious vandalism that destroyed or defaced so much of the cave's fragile artwork.

If you believe that the hieroglyphic inscriptions explain the cave's ritual or recreational use, or that the ancient Mayan written language has been fully deciphered, you should read, or try to read, Chapter 7. In this chapter, which discusses the cave's hieroglyphic writing, the text plummets into a welter of Yucatec words and toponyms, logographs, suffixes, and other technicalities that are doubtless useful and illuminating to a select few. I admit to abandoning the chapter after a few pages; I'd have preferred some best-guess translations accompanying the hieroglyphic texts. I have a suspicion that some of these would translate along the lines of, "FRED JONES WAS HERE 1999 UCLA SUCKS BIGTIME!" or perhaps, "THIS WAY TO EXIT."

In summary, this is one of those books that sits on a slightly precarious boundary between a scholarly monograph and a "popular" art book. I expect it is worthwhile in both worlds. Overall, and despite the dreaded Chapter 7, the book is excellently written, well illustrated, and beautifully produced. It forms an excellent addition to any collection of Mesoamerican art.