Tate Paulette. <i>In the Land of Ninkasi: A History of Beer in Ancient Mesopotamia</i>

Introducing Mesopotamia as “the world’s first great beer culture” (p. xiv) is a massive undertaking requiring facility in several areas of specialization. Information derived from archaeological sites, cylinder seals, cuneiform tablets, organic residue, and vessels and utensils spanning thousands of years need to be synthesized. Tate Paulette’s book, In the Land of Ninkasi, does just that, but in a colloquial register full of anecdotes and wry, even lowbrow humor—which assures the reader that the author, although an expert, is not dispassionate about beer.Paulette, Associate Professor of History at North Carolina State University, opens the book with a prologue, signposting features of Mesopotamian beer culture, and a brief note for nonspecialists about his use of Sumerian and Akkadian transliteration. Following this, the book contains seven chapters, an epilogue, an appendix with a homebrew recipe, and endnotes.After demonstrating the ancient pedigree (i.e., Raqefet Cave in Israel; Göbekli Tepe in Anatolia) and geographical diversity of beermaking, as well as the diversity of techniques employed (chapter 1), Paulette turns to introduce Mesopotamia. He discusses our sources of knowledge about the civilization, its historical eras, and its relevant sociopolitical realities related to beer during the third and second millennium BC until grape-wine and date-wine became prominent alternatives in the middle of the first millennium BC (chapter 2).In chapter 3, Paulette highlights the variety of beers available (even though the distinctions are unclear) and addresses the primary brewing ingredients (i.e., malted barley, date syrup, aromatics), including the most disputed—bappir. Made from barley, bappir was either a sweet bread used as a sugar source during mashing (i.e., steeping grain in hot water), or, as Paulette prefers, a sourdough added to the wort (i.e., the sugary liquid after mashing) to provide yeast for fermentation (pp. 71–72, 82–86).The next two chapters focus on the methods and equipment for making beer (chapter 4), emphasizing the pitfalls of assuming modern similarities or primitive simplicity, and the sort of people who brewed beer and where it tended to happen (chapter 5). Notably, a certain vessel with a hole in the bottom (for fermentation, filtration, or both) is an archaeological correlate for brewing. Although there were dedicated brewing sites, beer was also made at taverns and in the home.Chapters 6 and 7 give attention to the demographics of beer drinkers, how they drank, and what effects beer had on people. In chapter 6, Paulette explains that beer was consumed by everyone, regardless of gender, status, or age. This was often done communally out of large vessels through reed straws with bronze or bone perforated tips (for filtering) or directly from individual cups (i.e., beer was sometimes filtered first). Chapter 7 overviews the social construction of beer-drinking in ancient Mesopotamia, as it bound together the living and the dead, coworkers, and strangers (through taverns). Given its ability to cause drunkenness (evidenced in literary sources), Mesopotamian beer couldn’t have been negligibly weak in alcohol (i.e., less than 2 percent ABV), as often suggested. While I agree, Paulette never offers a range of ABV for Mesopotamian beer, or an overall average. Drunkenness could imply the effects of consuming a beverage with a high(er) ABV (i.e., 5–7 percent), but, given the lack of understanding and the ability to control fermentation, this likely meant a high degree of variability.In the epilogue, Paulette models the value of experimental archaeology. In collaboration with Great Lakes Brewing Company (Cleveland, Ohio), they reproduced multiple versions of Mesopotamian beers sticking close to the methods, vessel types, and ingredients, including successfully testing the sourdough interpretation of bappir.Paulette offers biblical scholars valuable Ancient Near Eastern background. Yet his study is not properly “Bible background”; it centers on ancient Mesopotamia. Those looking for direct connections to biblical texts, languages, and archaeological sites will not be satisfied, but the astute reader will make several of their own. Generally speaking, there is much overlap between ancient Mesopotamians and ancient Israelites with respect to their interest in fermented beverages for mundane meals, feasting on holy days, and cultic service to the divine in the form of libations. Although the Bible emphasizes the importance of wine in this regard, it may also address grain-based alcohol with respect to shekar (שֵׁכָר)—a highly disputed term among Hebrew Bible scholars (cf. Lev 10.9; Num 6.3; 28.7; 14.26; 29.5; Judg 13.4, 7, 14; 1 Sam 1.15; Isa 5.11, 22; 24.9; 28.7; 29.9; 56.12; Mic 2.11; Ps 69.13; Prov 20.1; 31.4, 6). Shekar could refer to a fermented beverage made from grapes, dates, or grain, if it’s not a general term for an intoxicant (being cognate to the Hebrew verb and adjective for drunkenness). Paulette does not wade into the debate, but what he notes on a few occasions about the diachronic use of the Akkadian šikaru, cognate with Hebrew shekar, is worth mentioning here. Although šikaru refers to barley beer for a couple millennia, around the middle of the first millennium BC, during the Neo-Babylonian period, šikaru is used interchangeably in Mesopotamia for barley beer and date wine (p. 77; cf. 92, 138–39, 143). Whether shekar underwent a similar shift is a different matter, but it is significant (without committing an etymological fallacy) that the Akkadian term relates to a grain-based fermented drink. Biblical scholars inclined toward a grain-based interpretation of shekar have even more to glean from this book.Paulette’s In the Land of Ninkasi is now the must-read study on the topic of beer in ancient Mesopotamia, and it should be engaged by anyone with a keen interest in the history of beer. In the Land of Ninkasi has positioned itself among the great studies on ancient fermented beverages, such as those by Patrick McGovern, and for that it receives my cheerful recommendation.