The Powhatan Landscape extends Martin Gallivan's well-known contributions to the archaeology of Tidewater Virginia, the region between the James River on the south up to the Potomac River on the north, with an effort to interpret a cultural history for that region. Gallivan identifies this area as Tsenacomacoh, variously defined as “the Virginia coastal plain” (xxii) or “the Virginia Algonquian term for the Tidewater region” (20, also 5).Gallivan's “Prologue” reviews Captain John Smith's 1607 expedition into parts of Tsenacomacoh, recounts Smith's capture and subsequent woes, and relates these events to this landscape (4). The seven chapters and epilogue that follow begin with “Dwelling in Tsenacomacoh,” a perceptive review of “archaeologies of landscape” (10) and the development of Gallivan's ideas regarding the tribal settlements and early interactions with colonists. His ideas are placed within the context of archaeological research related to the Native cultures within this region and to various studies aimed at understanding how these societies operated during the early period of contact. Summaries of the following six chapters also are provided in chapter 1 (20–22), along with some notes on the epilogue.Chapter 2, “Mapping the Terrain,” considers the ways that Virginia Algonquian communities “constructed places and made history” (20). This part is centered on data from John Smith's Map of Virginia and from the Don Pedro de Zuñiga chart, plus ideas inferred from examination of Powhatan's mantle and Smith's own recounting of a “divination ceremony” (43). The following chapter, “Placemaking in the Algonquian Chesapeake” is based on Samuel Argall's 1610 account of the Patawomeck. Here Gallivan provides five pages of names for various locations and geographical features of the Native landscape, and recounts efforts to decode the meanings of these names. Chapter 4, “Arrival in a Wide Land,” examines the prehistoric archaeology of this region as related to the earliest inhabitants. Gallivan suggests that the linguistic evidence might reflect an arrival of Algonquian speakers. Then he constructs a version of regional cultural and political history. There follows a discussion of several theories of linguistic histories for an array of Algonquian speaking people (98–103). Gallivan recognizes that “efforts to link historical linguistics and archaeological evidence are greeted with skepticism in some quarters” (101).Chapter 5, “The Coarse-Pounded Corn People” focuses on the extensive and important archaeological work recently conducted along the Chickahominy River. Gallivan provides an excellent view of this “prominent, independent polity alongside the powerful, expansionary Powhatan chiefdom” (107). The title of the next chapter, “The Place of the Antler Wearers,” translates as Werowocomoco, the Native name for the town where Powhatan lived when he was the paramount chief for the region. Gallivan opens this chapter with a review of modern “Native” participation in the archaeological activities at this site. Smith's and other colonists’ activities at Werowocomoco are then featured, as are the complex political dealings among and between the various Native groups in this region. The relations between the English and Dutch colonists at James Fort provide yet another dimension to the complex struggle that marked the early colonial period.Chapter 7, “Persistent Places in Colonial Tsenacomacoh,” offers an overview from after 1610, structured around Gallivan's views on the endurance of locations of importance to Native populations such as the “Paspahegh and other Virginia Algonquians” (179). “This chapter draws to a conclusion by arguing for the enduring power of place in the spatial imaginary of Native communities in the colonial Chesapeake” (183). Gallivan then describes in detail a child's burial at Werowocomoco that probably was made after most of the population had left that village. Its significance is not clarified. A brief epilogue discusses a 2009 US District Court judgment regarding a permit for the development of “a reservoir in King William County, Virginia” (194) and, in 2011, a “ceremony dedicating a conservation easement on the land” (196); 58 acres within the area called Werowocomoco. The significance of these events to the Mattaponi and other “Native communities” (197) is emphasized.The general purpose of this volume is not clearly stated, and its potential readership remains unclear to me. Gallivan's book is “organized loosely around a model of social space proposed by spatial theorist Henri Lefebvre” (20) in 1991. This may be taken as a warning regarding the recondite language that follows. Lefebvre's jargon-laden discourse is paralleled by Gallivan's general approach to the subject of “landscape” that “may be defined and understood in a number of different ways [and] may be thought of as a region that is explored and mapped or painted, with an eye toward accurately capturing its natural features, built environments, and geographic order” (6, emphasis added).Use of the identifier “Virginia Algonquian” (6, passim) in place of “Natives” or “Indians,” as a reference to a vaguely delineated series of aboriginal tribes in the region referred to here as Tsenacomacoh, does little to reveal the culture history or cultural integrity for any one of these groups. Use of the generic Algonquian term for the Tidewater region is key to this narrative, but the multiple definitions for the area (xxii, 1) set the stage for continued confusion. In short, despite the promise of an archaeological history, Gallivan provides a pastiche that offers important data on several archaeological sites mixed with generalizations concerning the effects of European colonization and his belief that historical events did not destroy some Natives’ beliefs (tribes not specified) in the importance of some locations.Gallivan's archaeological research has produced important data regarding several of the Native sites of peoples within the Powhatan chiefdom and their neighbors. Recent successes by a number of scholars in reviewing the ethnohistorical record have produced many remarkable works detailing post-Contact Native alliances and conflicts. These volumes extend far beyond what the archaeological record provides, shedding considerable light on the colonial encounter. These ethnohistoric studies also reveal why these many Native cultures never organized in a way that challenged the hegemony of the Virginia colony.Gallivan's understanding of the records for people living beyond the Chesapeake seems weak. The historic role of the Susquehannock of central Pennsylvania is ignored. Gallivan's use of outdated sources for describing Lenape social organization (41, 203n63) leads one to question his interpretation of evidence within the Powhatan confederacy. Gallivan does not seem to understand how moiety organization was basic to the Powhatan and all the peoples of this area (see “dual sovereignty,” 17, 110). Powhatan soon recognized the nature of Smith's interests and of the dangers posed by these starving English, yet he abandoned the exposed Werowocomoco for a more secure location. Powhatan, and then his younger brother Opechancanough, led the Powhatan tribe's internal affairs moiety. Nemattenew (181), also identified as Jack of the Feathers, led the Powhatan external affairs moiety. Understanding the roles of these dual leaders provides greater insight into cultural dynamics than a disassociated discussion of so-called persistent places or catch-all ideas of revitalization among the Powhatan.Gallivan acknowledges that “Colonists’ accounts provide important details of the Virginia Algonquian cultural landscape, though they emphasize prominent leaders, pivotal events …” (176). His evaluation of John Smith's record ignores the detail that Smith's first visit to Werowocomoco was as a captive with an arrow through his leg, a prisoner concerned with his own survival. Gallivan is aware of Alexander Brown's The Genesis of the United States (1890), but ignores the corpus of European writings on Werowocomoco. Brown's important compendium of relations spanning the years from 1605 to 1616 includes much of interest, but nothing relating to Native ideas regarding “ritualized spaces.” Gallivan also ignores the absence of Europeans’ references to matters involving their own “ritualized spaces,” much of which has emerged only recently through long archaeological searches and reviews of documents that only recently have located the early church structures in Virginia's first settlements.The title of this book promises “an archaeological history of the Algonquian Chesapeake,” and Gallivan has command of the impressive archaeological data from this period. In chapter 6, finds of European copper and other materials provide evidence for a culture history of the Native settlement, but the archaeological data are vaguely presented. Copper beads (163) are not specified as European trade copper or from North American sources. Are the shell artifacts discussed from marine or fresh-water sources? These small gaps make it difficult to understand discussions of spatial relationships, ideas of persistent places, and other features of culture change that Gallivan is trying to describe.Approaching archaeological interpretation via a “landscape” perspective is one fraught with problems, beginning with the very definition of the term. Gallivan voices his concerns toward advocacy for claims by various Native groups, but not all, for recognition by the federal government. When he wrote this volume Gallivan indicated that Virginia has “eleven state-recognized tribes” (19). Over the past few years many of these have received federal recognition through establishing continuity and integrity in their specific tribal identity. This process of establishing cultural integrity seems to be antithetical to the coalescence of Algonquian culture that underlies Gallivan's approach to the archaeological and historical records. His efforts go far beyond the data to suggest that specific locations used by Native groups have meaning through time. This thesis might be better addressed by the archaeological and historical record as well as through the verifiable oral traditions of descendant peoples. The opinions of individuals who appear to claim cultural memory need to be separated from the verifiable details that can be secured through studies perfected by folklorists. The discipline of anthropology has long worked to reject the validity of ideas based on “racial memory.” Subtle returns to these views now may have currency with the public, but one would hope that scholars would eschew sources that are not verifiable through basic academic protocols.