Why do we like some buildings and loathe others? How much impact does architecture have on our mental and physical well being? Turns out we are surprisingly vulnerable to the aesthetics of our surroundings. The author explores this less tangible aspect of the built environment and provides an excellent dicussion on the nature of aesthetics. ( )

Like many others, I learned of this book by watching the film 500 Days of Summer. The movie made such a distinct impression on me that I felt I had no choice but to read the book the protagonist gave to his love. Why this book? Why not something romantic?The simple answer is that this book is incredibly romantic, just not in the cliche way I was looking for. In the opening pages, de Botton expounds on the idea that one must feel the ever-so-memorable cocktail of pain, loss, and heartbreak to ever be moved by art. I can understand this. For as long as I have been alive, I have had artistic sympathies but no particular appreciation of any art other than music and writing. Visual mediums just did nothing for me. I could understand the mechanics of a pretty picture and could aspire to create such things myself, but was never able to attach any sort of significant feeling or understanding to them.A couple of years ago, I hit a low point in my life. I was depressed and hollow and pain seemed to be sewn into my shadow. For the first time in my life, I had a desire to visit an art exhibit. So I gathered up my pre-teen brother and we headed out for the art museum one Sunday morning. Much to my surprise, I was moved by color. I found empathy and clarity in the various shades of reds and blues that made up, oddly enough, the somber religious paintings depicting angels in their various earthly activities. Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I am not a religious person and that I appreciate the concept of angels no more than, say, the NRA. But here I was, downtrodden and broken, finding these winged cherubs beautiful. The selection of this book for use in the film was brilliant and probably more thought out than any other book used as a prop in the entire history of film (excluding, of course, all the films I have not seen; which is, thankfully, most of them).But why architecture, Mr. de Botton? This, I'm not sure of. Most of the author's musings seemed to me to apply to art in general, not specifically to architecture. But I forgive him for that. He had to pick something to draw specific examples from, otherwise he would have ended up with an exponentially larger book (which neither of us wanted). Still, I would have liked to walk away from this book with some knowledge of what makes buildings great. Or bad. And I haven't. I now know a couple of traits that make classical and gothic architecture distinct, but that's it. de Botton focuses more on the philosophical aspects of this art and less on the practicalities. Which is okay, but a bit misleading.Of course, he did the same thing when discussing specific architectural ideas. He talked about the Japanese and the cultural influences present in their buildings. And, while he compared them briefly to the Dutch, he sort of left it at that with no points for comparison. I don't know how regional differences vary between geographical areas because he just went on about the Japanese. Which, again, is fine since he had to write specifically about something and Japan's as good a something as any. Unfortunately, I have no great interest in Japan so he lost me for a stretch.At the very end of the book, de Botton discusses probably the most profound idea in the work, that art gives us confidence to feel our own feelings. We may have an inherent preference for cracked concrete or itchy wool, but until others say that those things are good, we are fearful of openly embracing these things. Art is the perfect medium for exploring ourselves. Seeing an ornate cathedral or a fruit bowl still life can give us something to identify with and can go lengths to make us feel okay with who we are.My chief complaint about this book is that half of it is filled with uninspiring photos. Nothing made my jaw drop and few of them were necessary for comprehension. I wish more thought would have gone into the selection of a few good images, rather than filling the book with what seemed good at the time. I wanted to feel something when I got all fired up by de Botton's words, but, visually, he gave me nothing and all that energy was wasted on staring at the pattern on my bedspread.This was a rather good book, three-and-a-half stars, I think. Definitely more than three, but not quite four. ( )

When you are in the presence of a magnificent building, a modern house, a grand cathedral, something tightens up in your stomach. Alan de Botton tries (pretty hard) to define what that feeling is.

He is holding up several Greco-Roman ideals about architecture, identifying corresponding human virtues and values with the aesthetic values of structures. This part of his thesis seems somewhat mundane, but is presented with an interesting collection of photos (arranged almost as a photo essay...recalls Berger's Way of Seeing). Art historians and art fanatics probably won't get much from his argument here, but just poring through the examples he has chosen is a joy.

Some arguments are, however, misconstrued. de Botton's identification of psychological connections with architecture as well as the juxtapositions of qualities he selected are rather arbritary and somewhat questionable. Several leaps of logic are required to follow his argument, though I cannot deny that several of his conclusions sound favorable (maybe partly because they are rather common-sensical as well, and maybe so because I'm not well read in architectural history / aesthetics).

Overall, an interesting and refreshing take on how to view architecture, though probably not a good introduction to the topic. ( )

"passive-aggressive"
"somewhat reactionary"

una serie de meditaciones sobre algunos temas relacionados con arquitectura. supongo temas fundamentales. muy facil de leer. a veces se siente como pseudo filosofia o filosofia "lite". hay algunas ideas muy buenas, muchas ideas que son cuestionables y bien debatibles. hay algo en el tono del autor que es medio exasperante. abusa del modo primera persona plural, despues de un rato se siente bien manipulativo, bien "passive-agresive." algunas ideas me parecieron reaccionarias, bien conservadoras. tambien molesta esta cuestion moralista en la discusion de arte. pero el hecho que me moleste me parecio en si mismo interesante. en todo caso fue una lectura buena. me sirvio para darme cuenta de que el tema si me interesa. ( )

Summary: Alain de Botton explores the effect of architecture on the human condition: how it inspires us, how it enforces our ideals of beauty, and how it reflects our culture and our desires.

Review: My sister, who is starting her studies in architecture at the University of Toronto, bought this book to prepare herself. One day I had nothing to read, so she lent me her copy. It’s a slim book but it packs a lot of ideas, and it doesn’t hurt that de Botton is an elegiac, poetic writer, capable of squeezing poignancy even into the most mundane sentences. I mean it: this is a man who could write about eating toast and I would lap it all up.

His suggestions about architecture are interesting. I don’t know much about the subject so I can’t offer an educated opinion, but I thought he did a good job of exploring the connection between architecture and human wants and fears. It’s also good that there are photos to accompany his writing so that I can see what he means — some of the pictures took my breath away.

However, one niggling feeling ate at me the entire time I was reading, and those were De Botton's prejudices. He discusses the universals of architecture and the human condition but what he's really talking about is the West. He talks about how humans all want democracy and classical ideals and things like that, but that is only a limited view of humanity. Yes, he mentions briefly Japanese architecture and culture, but not much and a bit on Japan is hardly encompassing all non-Western cultures (as an Asian I get annoyed when Japan is always presented to the West as the model Asian nation, but that's another rant entirely). I don’t mind that he focuses on Western culture. I just wish he would clarify that more often rather than assume that the West is default. Also, he tends to revert to male as default when talking about people whose gender are unknown. This is a pet peeve. Others might not mind it but in an academic context it is like nails on a chalkboard for me.

Conclusion: A pretty book about a subject I was eager to learn more about. Ticks off a few of my buttons, but overall a good read. ( )