The People of the Sierra

by Julian Pitt-Rivers

The People of the Sierra presents an engrossing account of the social structure of a rural community in Andalusia, the mountainous region of southern Spain. The author applies the principles of social anthropology, without recourse to jargon, to determine the nature of the leaders of a European peasant society—the mayor, doctor, lawyer, priest—and also the smugglers, bandits, "witches," and gypsies who live on the fringe.

For his second edition of The People of the Sierra Julian A. Pitt-River has unmasked the village of Grazalema which had been protectively cloaked in pseudonym for the original version. In addition he has added a new preface which elaborates upon his earlier theories on norms, values, and social structure, and reconsiders them in the light of current theories of other social scientists.

Because of its unique and penetrating observations, not only Hispanic, Mediterranean, and European but also Latin American scholars regard this book as one of the foundation stones of contemporary cultural studies in several disciplines. Beyond the significance of its substance and theory, this study has considerable merit as a humane work of subtle perception and artful execution.

Genres: Anthropology, Nonfiction

260 pages, Hardcover

First published August 1, 1971

About the author

Julian Alfred Lane Fox Pitt-Rivers was a British social anthropologist, an ethnographer, and a professor at universities in three countries.

Reviews

[Roy Lotz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Writing is an activity which links a person with the world of formality.

Julian A. Pitt-Rivers was, in the words of his mentor E.E. Evans-Pritchard, “in every sense a son of Oxford and an Oxford anthropologist.” Julian was the descendant of an aristocratic family. His grandfather, Augustus, the pioneering archaeologist, was along with Sir Edward Taylor a founder of the anthropology department at Oxford. (The famous anthropology museum in Oxford is named after him.*) Julian’s father, whose absurdly long name I will not write—alright, fine, it is George Henry Lane-Fox Pitt-Rivers—was enormously wealthy. A vigorous anti-Semite and Eugenics proponent, George was jailed during the Second World War. Julian himself, among his other accomplishments, was tutor to the King of Iraq.

With a pedigree like that, it’s easy to see how his book became a classic in the field.

My interest in The People of the Sierra was sparked, naturally, by it being about a village in Spain. But for those with an interest in anthropology, such as myself, the book is significant independent of your specialty. This is because this book was one of the first ethnographies published about a community in Europe. True, it was a small, poor, agricultural community, and it was in a region of Europe commonly regarded as exotic, but it is Europe nonetheless. As such, the book is a landmark in the field.

The book’s classic status is due not only to its groundbreaking subject matter, however, but also to its high quality. Julian Pitt-Rivers was a true disciple of his advisor, E.E. Evans-Pritchard. Everything from the writing style to the analysis bears the traces of EP’s influence. And this is a good thing, for EP was one of the great masters of ethnography.

The central theme of Pitt-Rivers’s analysis is the contrast between the local and the national forces that shape the pueblo. In nearly every sector of life, there are two social structures at play. The first is that of the pueblo; it is self-contained. Moral rules are enforced by the community; there are certain—unwritten but universally known—appropriate ways of acting, and infractions are punished by loss of respect. The second structure is that of the state. Its authority is derived from somewhere far outside of the pueblo. Its laws are explicit, and infractions are punished with fines or jail time.

This theme is explored from a variety of different angles. One chapter, for example, explains the practice of giving members of the town nicknames. These nicknames are never used to a person’s face, and yet everybody in the village knows them. Indeed, you might know a person’s nickname without knowing their surname. Surnames are important, most of all, in dealings with the state. Thus you can see the contrast between local and national, informal and official, even in people’s names.

Tension exists in this state of affairs, because these two systems are often out of alignment. Many things are regarded as immoral which are not illegal, and vice versa. An important concept, for example, is vergüenza, shame, which is the regard that one pays to the social norms of the pueblo. To call someone a sinvergüenza is a serious insult; to be without shame is to be almost inhuman, since it puts you beyond the realm of society; it is to be a pariah. By contrast, it's obviously not illegal to be without shame, and many of these pariahs are employed by the state as informers.

This is the book’s theme in a nutshell. For me, however, the book’s lasting value has far more to do with its style than its substance. Pitt-Rivers’s writing is remarkable more for what it excludes than for what it includes. There is not a word of jargon in these pages; a polysyllabic word is never used when a shorter one will do; sentences are crisp and short; there is no pretentious name-dropping, no unnecessary citations.

The book itself is brief, and yet Pitt-Rivers’s writing is so economical that he manages to give a full-blooded picture of the community. The first two sentences give an adequate taste of what follows: “This book is about a Spanish town. More precisely, it examines the social structure of a rural community in the mountains of southern Spain.”

Why social scientists no longer write like this, I cannot say. So read this, if only to remember a time when clear, strong English was used in anthropology.

__________________
*Thanks to Wastrel for bringing this to my attention.

[Brad · Rating 4 out of 5]

The first published ethnography of Europe provides a snapshot of Iberian life even if our discipline's analysis no longer looks like this.

[Bob Newman · Rating 3 out of 5]

A standard anthropological study from the 1950s

If you are keen to know the details of society in an Andalusian village (Spain) circa 1950-52 you’ve come to the right place. This is a straightforward anthropological study in the style that prevailed at that time, perhaps the style favored by scholars of many Western countries between 1930 and 1960. You will find chapters called “The Boundaries of the Community” and chapters about agriculture, industry and trade, age and status, the relations between sexes and the roles played by both sexes, on law and views of morality, the political structure, and one unusual one on bandits and Gypsies. There is also a short section on nicknames. This is all well and good as a record because certainly Spain has changed almost beyond recognition from those long ago days of poverty and dictatorship. In addition, the author totally avoids any jargon and off-the-wall theorizing--it is an easily read book. However, not a single individual’s voice is heard. There’s not even a description of a villager. There’s a long section about a quarrel over water rights which involves economic interests vs. friendship and neighborly relations. That’s the only part describing actual human interaction. Otherwise, it is all distant and clinical, as arranged by the English author. This is not a personal criticism as I’m well aware that that was the style then. And, as was the custom among anthropologists in many parts of the world, there is no mention of his life in the village or his relations with the villagers. The book is an honest and hard-won description of what he saw and what he deduced, with no way of us knowing WHY he saw things the way he did. We are asked to believe (not in so many words) that his was a totally impartial, objective view.
I’ve been an anthropologist for over half a century. That is just not possible.
He notes the apparent lack of caste or class structure in the village and claims that “everyone in the village, at least conceptually, is a town dweller. How he gets his living is another matter.” (p.49) Having done most of my work in India, I find this very interesting, if really possible.

The last question is: how do you know that your village study is relevant to the wider, national or regional society? You study social relationships and problems within a small community. How are these affected by being part of the nation? Isn’t there a parallel set of values and concepts—one to do with the village and another for the government or national society? I think in this case such a topic was a sensitive area, it being in Franco’s Spain. The author certainly does note that a tension existed between the village and the central state. Perhaps he felt that this conflict was the main focus of the book, but no, today it seems more a village study of its time. Many things may be learned about Spain of the day as well as the process of anthropology. Many questions are indeed raised, but now they are historical ones.