planners in ways that are rarely recorded explicitly.
So, what does an archaeology of lunacy look like? While lunacy in the past was not exclusively institutional, the study of historic asylums allows for a quantitative survey of the ways in which lunacy was conceived of and treated. This study of the subject of lunacy and asylums focuses, therefore, on the archaeology of those institutions where lunacy was managed within a framework: the asylums. Approaches to this subject in the United States and Australia have drawn heavily on historical
institutional framework of the asylum in secondary literature. Australian historian Lee-Ann Monk argues, for example, that male keepers in Australian asylums in the Victorian period reinforced masculine gender dominance in the asylum, through the authority inherent in their position and their assertion of patient control through physical action. Thus, keepers asserted their masculinity among other keepers, as well as over the patients (Monk 2003 : 70–1). In the same volume on Australian asylums and madness, Dolly MacKinnon includes the activity of keepers and nurses in the
described the impact of migration and displacement as causing homesickness and nostalgia in the colonial mindset of settlers in nineteenth-century Australia and New Zealand ( 2010 : 44–7). The material legacy of mass migration from rural Ireland to cities like New York is further evidenced in domestic assemblages from the period (Orser 2007 : 79–82). The Wakefield ‘Dublin’ pipe suggests that at least one individual at the Wakefield Asylum maintained an emotional attachment to Ireland, articulated through their purchase of an engraved pipe. One pipe is not enough evidence
be seen as care-driven. Goffman equates asylums with prisons and concentration camps and treats all as ‘total institutions’. Each institution focuses on the physical and mental control of the inmate, though as demonstrated by Tuke’s concern for patient experience, the lunatic asylum and the planning of interior space and environment for these institutions may be said to reflect a certain duty of care to patients. As stated by Australian historian of medicine Dolly MacKinnon, madness cannot be said to be ‘silent’, and the patients’ ‘interior soundscapes’ – the