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3.72 AVERAGE
3.72 AVERAGE
I wasn't sure about this book, to begin with. I am interested in looking at interesting architecture--it's one of my favorite things about travelling. But I've never thought much about what effect it may have beyond a passing moment of 'huh--that's nice looking.' This book deals with much more than that. I'm glad I picked it up. I'll be reading more of de Botton's work for sure.
I kind of wanted to throw this book against the wall but it was on my e-reader, so I didn't. Lucky book.
Read this review by Zanna for a reasoned look at why I didn't like it. All I can articulate now is "whaa... wait... but..." so I'll go to bullets:
- The first part of this book only looks at Western architecture which I thought was sad, but whatevs, we all have our blind spots. (Over half the world is a damn big blind spot, but okay.) Then...
- He went to Japan and didn't like the skyscrapers in Tokyo. 'Why can't they make more Japanese-y skyscrapers? How boring.' Because the river you liked sleeping next to in the ryokan doesn't translate into a skyscraper, that's why! Because the entire city was razed to the ground in WWII with little ability to rebuild! When you look at the central Tokyo skyline nearly every building, every little thing you see was built in the last 60 years. It's amazing that they were able to do that, period. Give 'em a little time to make it pretty, k?
- The book rambles and is very opinionated though it may not seem so.
- "There should be no need to focus our energies on preservation and restoration... we should have the confidence to surrender the aristocratic palaces to the sea, knowing that we could at any point create new edifices that would rival the old stones in beauty." People like you, de Botton, are why we lost historic Penn Station. (If you've never seen it, google it now. No really, go do it. Your mouth will drop.) Money and "progress" trump beauty, and often the only time we can have pretty things is by preserving them.
I wish I had more brain to be coherent right now (see that review I linked) but yeah, not a fan.
Read this review by Zanna for a reasoned look at why I didn't like it. All I can articulate now is "whaa... wait... but..." so I'll go to bullets:
- The first part of this book only looks at Western architecture which I thought was sad, but whatevs, we all have our blind spots. (Over half the world is a damn big blind spot, but okay.) Then...
- He went to Japan and didn't like the skyscrapers in Tokyo. 'Why can't they make more Japanese-y skyscrapers? How boring.' Because the river you liked sleeping next to in the ryokan doesn't translate into a skyscraper, that's why! Because the entire city was razed to the ground in WWII with little ability to rebuild! When you look at the central Tokyo skyline nearly every building, every little thing you see was built in the last 60 years. It's amazing that they were able to do that, period. Give 'em a little time to make it pretty, k?
- The book rambles and is very opinionated though it may not seem so.
- "There should be no need to focus our energies on preservation and restoration... we should have the confidence to surrender the aristocratic palaces to the sea, knowing that we could at any point create new edifices that would rival the old stones in beauty." People like you, de Botton, are why we lost historic Penn Station. (If you've never seen it, google it now. No really, go do it. Your mouth will drop.) Money and "progress" trump beauty, and often the only time we can have pretty things is by preserving them.
I wish I had more brain to be coherent right now (see that review I linked) but yeah, not a fan.
While far from perfect, this is a fascinating and engaging little volume that articulates many of the tacit perceptions we have of how we are affected by our surroundings and how those feelings impact our architectural tastes. Well worth reading.
reflective
slow-paced
I found this book very interesting and a thoughtful way to approach architecture but I think I would have liked it more before we all got so woke. de Botton is very focused on the history of western architecture, which fine, but it seems inappropriate for him to critique Japanese modern architecture for not being "Japanese" enough for him, like who the fuck are you.
In 'De architectuur van het geluk' wil Alain de Botton laten zien dat architectuur onze ideeën over geluk weerspiegelen en dat onze omgeving van directe invloed is op onze gevoelens. Zijn stijl is zoals altijd lichtvoetig en de in paragraafjes verdeelde hoofdstukken maken het een goed leesbaar geheel.
Wat mij een beetje stoorde is de manier waarop De Botton zijn interpretaties van gebouwen als vanzelfsprekendheden doet voorkomen, terwijl deze op mij regelmatig zeer subjectief of zelf willekeurig overkwamen. Hoewel zijn stelling dat een bepaalde bouwstijl een ideaal kan weerspiegelen overtuigend is, zijn de voorbeelden die hij daarbij geeft dat niet altijd.
Maar desondanks weet De Botton je wel mee te nemen in een andere, persoonlijker architectuurbeleving dat gebruikelijk is. Hij zorgt er voor dat je ook bij jezelf stil staat wat je voor eigenschappen zoekt in een gebouw, wat de gebouwen die jij mooi of lelijk vindt vertegenwoordigden en wat dit over jou zegt. Zelfkennis, zo zegt hij, is uiteindelijk van het grootste belang voor geslaagde bouwkunst.
"De mislukte pogingen van architecten om aangename omgevingen te creëren weerspiegelen ons onvermogen om op andere gebieden van ons leven geluk te vinden. Slechte architectuur duidt uiteindelijk net zozeer op een gebrek aan psychologisch inzicht als op een gebrekkig ontwerp. Het is een tastbare uitdrukking van de neiging die ook maakt dat we met de verkeerde mensen trouwen, een ongeschikte baan kiezen en onbevredigende vakanties boeken: de neiging om niet te begrijpen wie we zijn en waar we voldoening aan beleven."
Wat mij een beetje stoorde is de manier waarop De Botton zijn interpretaties van gebouwen als vanzelfsprekendheden doet voorkomen, terwijl deze op mij regelmatig zeer subjectief of zelf willekeurig overkwamen. Hoewel zijn stelling dat een bepaalde bouwstijl een ideaal kan weerspiegelen overtuigend is, zijn de voorbeelden die hij daarbij geeft dat niet altijd.
Maar desondanks weet De Botton je wel mee te nemen in een andere, persoonlijker architectuurbeleving dat gebruikelijk is. Hij zorgt er voor dat je ook bij jezelf stil staat wat je voor eigenschappen zoekt in een gebouw, wat de gebouwen die jij mooi of lelijk vindt vertegenwoordigden en wat dit over jou zegt. Zelfkennis, zo zegt hij, is uiteindelijk van het grootste belang voor geslaagde bouwkunst.
"De mislukte pogingen van architecten om aangename omgevingen te creëren weerspiegelen ons onvermogen om op andere gebieden van ons leven geluk te vinden. Slechte architectuur duidt uiteindelijk net zozeer op een gebrek aan psychologisch inzicht als op een gebrekkig ontwerp. Het is een tastbare uitdrukking van de neiging die ook maakt dat we met de verkeerde mensen trouwen, een ongeschikte baan kiezen en onbevredigende vakanties boeken: de neiging om niet te begrijpen wie we zijn en waar we voldoening aan beleven."
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
kind of high-brow self-indulgent language but nice to read bc tom told me to
its features in 500 days of summer and i like that vibe
honestly though its really interesting and made me think of aesthetics in a different way... kinda philosophical take
its features in 500 days of summer and i like that vibe
honestly though its really interesting and made me think of aesthetics in a different way... kinda philosophical take
What a great introduction to architecture and architecture theory. Some questions de Botton poses: If the function of a plane is to fly, what is the function of a house? And, If one room can alter how we feel, if your happiness can hang on the colour of the walls or the shape of a door, what will happen to us in most of the places we are forced to inhabit? What will we experience in a house with prison-like windows, stained carpet tiles, and plastic curtains?
I'm not sure he firmly answers these, but perhaps there are no firm answers.
The style was engaging and I'm looking forward to reading more of his books.
I'm not sure he firmly answers these, but perhaps there are no firm answers.
The style was engaging and I'm looking forward to reading more of his books.
This is my second Alain de Botton in two days and I'm still convinced that he's at his best in lectures and talks. That being said, The Architecture of Happiness was a very worthwhile read because it's helped me come to terms with what continuing in my profession will mean for me. One of the first and most important questions that this book tackles is whether people really should care about architecture. This is a question that I've routinely asked myself as architecture is has always seemed a bit...frivolous. It never could matter in the face of poverty, ill-health and the lack of human rights; it can make no claims to "save the world".
It's at this crucial juncture that The Architecture of Happiness comes in. A couple of studios ago, a professor of mine asked the question: "What can architecture do?" That's a question that this book attempts to answer, mostly within its first and last chapters (arguably the most important). Stendahl, as previous reviewers have mentioned, is used as answer with this quote: "Beauty is the promise of happiness" and architecture - when done well - is often beauty made manifest. This beauty is ephemeral and subject to decay, much as a cherry blossom will delight for a short while and then departs. Architectural appreciation and practice then necessitates allowing oneself to delight in the ephemeral (both the sensation and the object itself) beauty, celebrating what is required to create it and then finally celebrating the loss of that ephemeral beauty. This philosophy is applicable to life, as life is ephemeral. As de Botton notes, it often takes grief to notice the the beauty of the world again.
So what can architecture do? If done well, it can highlight ephemeral beauty of our world. When done poorly, it can highlight its ugliness. Architecture (and many of the arts, in general) I've come to realize, will never be able to save the world. Its impact is limited and its authors are many. Funnily enough, this is a realization that many people in other professions that I have spoken to (especially doctors) have had to come to. They, as individual practitioners and professions, will not be able to "save the world"; but at the best of their interventions may be able to make our world a little more palatable. A humbling, yet reassuring note that this little book has reinforced.
It's at this crucial juncture that The Architecture of Happiness comes in. A couple of studios ago, a professor of mine asked the question: "What can architecture do?" That's a question that this book attempts to answer, mostly within its first and last chapters (arguably the most important). Stendahl, as previous reviewers have mentioned, is used as answer with this quote: "Beauty is the promise of happiness" and architecture - when done well - is often beauty made manifest. This beauty is ephemeral and subject to decay, much as a cherry blossom will delight for a short while and then departs. Architectural appreciation and practice then necessitates allowing oneself to delight in the ephemeral (both the sensation and the object itself) beauty, celebrating what is required to create it and then finally celebrating the loss of that ephemeral beauty. This philosophy is applicable to life, as life is ephemeral. As de Botton notes, it often takes grief to notice the the beauty of the world again.
So what can architecture do? If done well, it can highlight ephemeral beauty of our world. When done poorly, it can highlight its ugliness. Architecture (and many of the arts, in general) I've come to realize, will never be able to save the world. Its impact is limited and its authors are many. Funnily enough, this is a realization that many people in other professions that I have spoken to (especially doctors) have had to come to. They, as individual practitioners and professions, will not be able to "save the world"; but at the best of their interventions may be able to make our world a little more palatable. A humbling, yet reassuring note that this little book has reinforced.
