From the Publisher
"Elaine Dewar is the Rachel Carson of Canada, in the sense that her work is aimed always at expanding mental horizons, preserving the sanctity of the national conscience, and telling a fresh and interesting story. This time she's taken on nothing less than a revised history of the original peopling of the Americas, and with typical thoroughness she goes back, not to their roots, but to their bones which tell a much more fascinating story. This is a must read." —Peter C. Newman
"This is an important book, because it debunks a scientific orthodoxy that has determined not only how those in the western hemisphere approach their history but also the place aboriginal people occupy within that history. Dewar is a sharp-minded questioner [with] a novelist's eye for describing people and places…Bones is a delightful read." —Quill & Quire
“ Dewar’s book is bound to shake archeologists out of their complacency.” —Heather Pringle, Canadian Geographic
“…exhaustive and compelling…Like a true forensic anthropologist, [Elaine Dewar] builds her case a brush-stroke at a time…she is a superb writer, and her book is as much a travel book as an account of a spell-binding scientific journey….Bones ought to stir up the pot…” —Wayne Grady, Montreal Gazette
“ a compelling account…the peopling of the Americas is one of the epic chapters in the human story.” —Maclean’s
“Elaine Dewar is a Canadian journalist with an excellent eye for hidden stories…Dewar flawlessly captures the atmosphere of academic rivalry, gossip, infighting for grants and professional reputation, competition for access to important finds, and even the legal manoeuvres, which characterize a field of study at a time when new finds and new techniques are transforming old views….Dewar has written a fascinating exploration of the political and academic implications of the unburied skeletons and the potential information they contain.” —Robert McGhee (curator of archaeology at the Canadian Museum of Civilization) in The Globe and Mail
Dewar, a Canadian investigative journalist whose expos Cloak of Green probed the dark underbrush of environmental politics, returns here to dust off North American anthropology's skeletons in the closet. The author profiles a handful of scientists whose research debunks the prevailing theory that the first Americans came here on foot from Siberia over the Bering Strait during the last ice age; she also presents controversial archaeological, genetic and folkloric evidence suggesting that humans settled in South America at least 1,000 years earlier. Furthermore, she says, finds like the Caucasoid Kennewick Man, discovered in a Washington State riverbed, suggest that somebody beat the forebears of modern Native Americans to these shores. The truth is out there, but as Dewar argues, proper research has been thwarted time and again by stiff-necked academic careerism, the "dirty water of ethnic politics" and just plain carelessness bones mysteriously "disappear" from museum storerooms, labs forget to conduct crucial DNA studies and so forth. This is popular rather than hard science, and there are gripping moments, but had she written half as much book, Dewar would have told a leaner, more vibrant story. But Dewar is a keen observer of place and personality, and the scientists she interviews are the real heart of the story she wishes to tell which is perhaps why her argument sometimes gets buried in pages of anecdotal narrative. (Mar.) Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.
We've all been taught that the first Americans crossed a land bridge over the Bering Sea about 11,000 years ago and continued down to Tierra del Fuego, populating two continents. Canadian journalist Dewar (Cloak of Green) explores emerging research that calls into question that venerated theory. In this lengthy, detailed, and well-written story, the author explores the saga of the Kennewick Man, findings in Peru that show dates much earlier than expected, mummies discovered in Nevada that do not fit the accepted time lines, and more to illuminate the current state of archaeology in the Americas. With the flair of a mystery writer, Dewar explores the conflicting theories as they are influenced by academic and personal jealousies, government interference, ethnic concerns, mishandled artifacts all the human and bureaucratic folly that have gotten in the way of the science. A revealing and informative look not only at the archaeology in question but at the convoluted, intricate, and very human difficulties involved in "doing science," this book is recommended for academic and large public libraries or where interest warrants. Ann Forister, Roseville P.L., CA Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.
Where did North Americans come from way back when, asks Canadian journalist Dewar (Cloak of Green, not reviewed, etc.), in this eye-opening study for laypeople that debates the merits of archaeological theories swirling about the question.
Read an Excerpt
This book begins with a simple question. Where did Native Americans come from? I know I was given an answer when I was just a child, before I had learned enough about the world, and enough about how we learn about the world, to eve ask the question for myself. This answer was a comfort to immigrants and the children of immigrants as they broke ground, built towns and cities from one end of the hemisphere to the other, and muscles aside the descendants of people who were in the Americas before them. It often popped up before the question could be formed, particularly in those scarce moments of moral hesitation when new immigrants came face to face with those they had displaced, and recognized that Native Americans were suffering and dying even as they, the newcomers, prospered. For more than a century this answer was ready for anyone who needed it: Native Americans came from somewhere else—from Asia. All are descendants of the same immigrant people.
I was born in the middle of the twentieth century on the Great Plains—in the city of Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. I am the grandchild of immigrants from Eastern Europe who arrived there when it was still a frontier called the Northwest Territories. The government of Canada promised free land if my grandparents would go to the Prairies and bust the sod. And so they left the wars and racism and religious hatreds of Russia and Romania, migrating halfway around the globe to the New World. They helped to colonize the beautiful and frigid prairies. Their first homes were sod houses, built of the thick squares of turf they cut out of the ground. They were known as pioneers, as if no one had ever been there before them.
If they had regrets about being part of a process that ended the ancient and complex relationship between Native peoples and their lands, I never heard them discuss it. By the time I came along, they were city folk with their own businesses (although my mother’s father held fast to his northern farm for many years, not letting go even after his tractor fell on him, when he was eighty-five). Native people had been pushed so far to the margins of society that my contact with them came mainly at fairs and parades and multicultural festivals where ethnics of all sorts came forward, in costume, to sing their foreign songs and dance their foreign dances. We were all immigrants together in the New World and therefore in my mind we were equivalent: we came from Eastern Europe, they came from Asia. I did the hora, they had their powwows, their drums and their fancy dancing. We came on boats and built the railroads. Exactly how they came was a matter to be determined by science because they had no written histories, just stories about their origins, encased in languages that no one but the old people spoke anymore. Governments and church schools tried to wipe those languages away because they interfered with the process of making Native Americans just like everybody else. If the Native people were unhappy about that we didn’t hear of it. (How could they complain? Status Indians in Canada only got the right to vote in 1960.) It was up to science to dig up the Truth — and teach it to them.