Judith Flanders

I knew this history of domestic living spaces would be informative but I’m pleased it was also so engaging. In a smart (even scholarly) but conversational narrative voice, Flanders begins in post-feudal Europe and weaves politics, economics, technology, psychology, work and culture (especially marriage) into an understanding of how homes have evolved in northwest Europe and North America.

She explores the physical structure over centuries as the home’s size increases; as its style and show more layout become more complex and afford more privacy; as its furnishings become padded and upholstered and, instead of being placed against the walls, are grouped companionably in the center of rooms (where it seemed “the furniture was socializing on its own”); how the industrial revolution sparked consumerism and the acquisition of stoves, window-glass, curtains, lighting, tableware, and other accoutrements; and how modern utilities (water, sewer, gas, electricity) changed cooking and cleaning practices.

She also explores marriage from its origins as a familial “property arrangement” into (by 1500) a socially independent partnership of equals ... and then its backslide when technology took over the heaviest male tasks of the household, freeing men to earn money outside the home and decreasing respect for work done in the home.

A very satisfying read. I’m interested in more by Flanders, especially The Victorian House.

(Review based on an advance reading copy provided by the publisher.) show less

A fascinating history of many elements of daily life during Dickens' lifetime (from roughly 1812-1870, which Flanders acknowledges is not completely within the Victorian era). Covering everything from streets to commutes to evening entertainments, Flanders' work is dense but highly readable. Filled with fascinating small insights into what existing in London was like during the time period, the book is an excellent read for history buffs. While Dickens' lifetime is used as the framing device show more and Flanders highlights many elements of his novels that are similar to (or divergent from) her findings in the historical record, it is not necessary to be a Dickens fan to enjoy the work. show less

This copiously researched 500 year history of homes in Europe and America has an almost overwhelming amount of detail, but is so fascinating I kept interrupting the lives of people around me to share something I had just read. Stretching from the tiny, crowded, windowless shacks of our ancestors to the paradigm shifting development of modern suburbs, Judith Flanders has written an eye-opening account.

Included in its scope are 500 years of evolving attitudes about family, marriage, children, show more gender roles, manners, human waste disposal, how brightly lit a home needs to be, when privacy is required, and what having a clean home means. Flanders describes the difficult ways people got water into their houses before plumbing, how meals were cooked over an open fire (stew was the main menu item for a long time), and how the Industrial Revolution came about. The effects of religion, technology, and changing economic circumstances are explored, and one book-long theme involves home versus house, and the fact that some languages and cultures don’t make a distinction between the two words.

There were all sorts of oddities I didn’t expect. At different points in history beds used to be kept in the parlour for show, sand was put on the floor to soak up grease and wax, people shared beds with their servants, and what little furniture there was stayed pushed against the wall and only moved into the center as needed--the better not to trip over it in the interior dimness that was standard for hundreds of years.

Another thing that interested me is that preserved historic houses are mainly the best of the best, not representative of where most people lived, and they are also the most recent examples of their kind--no one would have saved earlier inferior dwellings as they were replaced. For instance, as awful as they are the slave quarters on view for tourists are actually upgrades, and vast improvements over what enslaved people had to endure for most of the history of slavery in the American South. show less

Reading A Murder of Magpies will make you feel as though you've just been dished some of the juiciest dirt on the publishing business, and author Judith Flanders has found the perfect character to tell us all about it. Sam Clair has an infectious snarky wit that's almost impossible to resist. She is a very self-contained character who, for some reason, has chosen to live her life on the outside. It can't have everything to do with her annoyingly perfect lawyer mother Helena, and I'd love to show more know more. (Yes, that means I hope we'll be hearing more from Sam.)

As clever as she is, she doesn't always get it right, and one of the funniest threads in the book concerns the trials and tribulations she has with her bestselling author and the author's latest book, which Sam believes is a total disaster. This editor thinks she has an inside edge on almost everything-- like when she goes to question someone because she thinks she-- as a middle-aged woman-- will get more out of the person than the police ever would. (She just may have something there.)

Flanders really ups the ante on readers' sleuthing skills because what is originally thought to be a missing persons case morphs into something much larger and complex. Something that the police are going to have difficulty in handling but is perfect for the sharp eyes and minds of Sam and her mother. Watching these two women dig for the truth is worth the price of admission, and as I've already said, I'm definitely looking forward to reading more about Samantha Clair. show less