What do you think?
Rate this book
The Architecture of Happiness
One of the great but often unmentioned causes of both happiness and misery is the quality of our environment: the kinds of walls, chairs, buildings and streets that surround us.
And yet a concern for architecture and design is too often described as frivolous, even self-indulgent. The Architecture of Happiness starts from the idea that where we are heavily influences who we can be, and it argues that it is architecture's task to stand as an eloquent reminder of our full potential.
Whereas many architects are wary of openly discussing the word beauty, this book has at its center the large and naïve question: What is a beautiful building? It is a tour through the philosophy and psychology of architecture that aims to change the way we think about our homes, our streets and ourselves.
And yet a concern for architecture and design is too often described as frivolous, even self-indulgent. The Architecture of Happiness starts from the idea that where we are heavily influences who we can be, and it argues that it is architecture's task to stand as an eloquent reminder of our full potential.
Whereas many architects are wary of openly discussing the word beauty, this book has at its center the large and naïve question: What is a beautiful building? It is a tour through the philosophy and psychology of architecture that aims to change the way we think about our homes, our streets and ourselves.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2006
About the author
Alain de Botton
133 books14.4k followersAlain de Botton is a writer and television producer who lives in London and aims to make philosophy relevant to everyday life. He can be contacted by email directly via www.alaindebotton.com
He is a writer of essayistic books, which refer both to his own experiences and ideas- and those of artists, philosophers and thinkers. It's a style of writing that has been termed a 'philosophy of everyday life.'
His first book, Essays in Love [titled On Love in the US], minutely analysed the process of falling in and out of love. The style of the book was unusual, because it mixed elements of a novel together with reflections and analyses normally found in a piece of non-fiction. It's a book of which many readers are still fondest.
Bibliography:
* Essays In Love (1993)
* The Romantic Movement (1994)
* Kiss and Tell (1995)
* How Proust Can Change Your Life (1997)
* The Consolations of Philosophy (2000)
* The Art of Travel (2002)
* Status Anxiety (2004)
* The Architecture of Happiness (2006)
* The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work (2009)
He is a writer of essayistic books, which refer both to his own experiences and ideas- and those of artists, philosophers and thinkers. It's a style of writing that has been termed a 'philosophy of everyday life.'
His first book, Essays in Love [titled On Love in the US], minutely analysed the process of falling in and out of love. The style of the book was unusual, because it mixed elements of a novel together with reflections and analyses normally found in a piece of non-fiction. It's a book of which many readers are still fondest.
Bibliography:
* Essays In Love (1993)
* The Romantic Movement (1994)
* Kiss and Tell (1995)
* How Proust Can Change Your Life (1997)
* The Consolations of Philosophy (2000)
* The Art of Travel (2002)
* Status Anxiety (2004)
* The Architecture of Happiness (2006)
* The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work (2009)
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,174 reviews
April 28, 2020
When I was a child I used to have long walks with my parents (both architects) along the streets of my home town and listen to them discuss almost every building, every design choice and ornament we passed. Since then I got used to walking the streets looking up at the buildings (this resulted in stepping inside numerous puddles, dogs business and never finding any coins) and I thought that I could really "see" a building.
After reading this book I discovered a whole new way of "looking" at architecture. I discovered that buildings have their own psychology - it's in a way the building speaks to it's surroundings, it's in the way windows, doors, and other elements co-exist.
In this book Alain asks questions like, why we consider some things beautiful. What is elegance. And what buildings say about the times they were build in, and what they don't say about people who live in them.
I think that anyone who deals with aesthetics should give this book a go even if he doesn't find architecture particularly interesting. I can assure you will find this book very stimulating.
I also looked up some of the authors Alain mentions and found some interesting titles to add to my reading list:
Wilhelm Worringer - "Abstraction and Empathy: A Contribution to the Psychology of Style" and essays
Rudolf Arnheim - "Art and Visual Perception: A Psychology of the Creative Eye"
And essays by Friedrich Schiller
After reading this book I discovered a whole new way of "looking" at architecture. I discovered that buildings have their own psychology - it's in a way the building speaks to it's surroundings, it's in the way windows, doors, and other elements co-exist.
In this book Alain asks questions like, why we consider some things beautiful. What is elegance. And what buildings say about the times they were build in, and what they don't say about people who live in them.
I think that anyone who deals with aesthetics should give this book a go even if he doesn't find architecture particularly interesting. I can assure you will find this book very stimulating.
I also looked up some of the authors Alain mentions and found some interesting titles to add to my reading list:
Wilhelm Worringer - "Abstraction and Empathy: A Contribution to the Psychology of Style" and essays
Rudolf Arnheim - "Art and Visual Perception: A Psychology of the Creative Eye"
And essays by Friedrich Schiller
January 10, 2019
First read January 2008
Casa P, Sao Paulo, by Marcio Kogan
That most of this feels like something I might myself have written, I take to be an indictment of my own education. I am going to an attempt a highly critical reading, because I am suspicious of how comfortable I feel in it. Technically, it is as much about interior decoration as about architecture, but that makes less of a snappy title.
The book never quite stops apologising for its subject, de Botton repeating that architecture seems trivial to most people and that its effect on us is subtle and a depressing consequence of our moral and emotional frailty. He ignores the fact that most people, while they may care deeply about their built environments, have little or no control over them.
Negative views of people and life are also repeated over and over. Such pessimism is easily justified of course, and in other books I have appreciated de Botton's gentle way of reminding us that we usually do not live up to our aspirations by sharing a relatable and amusing tale of his own failings. However, I believe this taken-for-granted pessimism is corrosive, and I resent the way in which it functions here as an unjustified assumption when it is actually culturally specific. It is as if to appeal to people who live unluxurious lives, de Botton's were to adopt a soothing tone: I know it's hard but...
The book is preoccupied with beauty, making a gesture towards understanding this as a problematic metric for architecture, which is not followed through. Instead, de Botton defends it, essentially ridiculing modernism for treating beauty with suspicion. That modernism, like neoclassicism for example, presented a set of values and hypocritically pretended objectivity about them is a good point, but it is insufficient to return us uncritically to north/west European aesthetic values, the racist sexist classist grounding of which are here left almost untouched.
De Botton does occasionally draw attention to and mildly criticise building that expresses elitism and self-congratulation, but more often he is impressed by it. The language of dominance and submission is deployed with disturbing approval and regularity:
We might agree that repeated, regular forms in architecture can indeed be visually pleasing, and it could be argued that de Botton writes in this manner to express this value in a full-blooded manner. No doubt. But since he argues, extensively, that architecture is aspirational and speaks to us about who we want to be, and also mourns failures to hear it, perhaps we should not let this call to get in line pass unremarked. Religion, a preoccupation of de Botton, who assumes a secular (white middle class British educated) reader throughout, is another locus for feelings of submission. I find it strange that he assumes everyone who enters a cathedral will feel the urge to 'fall to [their] knees and worship a being as mighty and sublime as we are ourselves small and inadequate'. I generally feel a contrary impulse to fly into the sky in concert with the soaring forms.
The butt of de Botton's book is Le Corbusier, who is here, as elsewhere, blamed for the unedifying qualities of much of contemporary built environments. De Botton does once quote his nemesis with approval however, when it serves his own argument for order and conservatism: "These things are beautiful because in the middle of the apparent incoherence of nature or the cities of men [sic], they are places of geometry... and is not geometry pure joy?" de Botton (who also, by the way, uses the unmarked masculine for all people and the word 'mankind') replies (still talking about that same favourite regimental Parisian boulevard):
Again, my reader may object that I push too hard. De Botton must dramatise his material - that is what we expect from writers. But this is not a novel and this language of malevolent violence attached to nature underlines that north/west European culture is founded on settler colonialism: in opposing civilisation to nature we see that the former must be madness. We can take this attitude of machismo and supremacy to the natural world but we will eventually destroy ourselves, for everything we have comes from nature and our daily needs depend on it to an extreme degree. A philosophy/architectural ideology that disdains the fact that plants, in concert with water soil and sunlight, make the oxygen and glucose that every cell of our bodies requires every second to act and feel, is an ideology of delusion and death.
I struggled not to be irritated by de Botton's sojourn in Japan, where he is petulant about the local architecture's failure to minister to the needs of his soul, formed elsewhere. When he finds a building he likes, his description seems lifted straight from In Praise of Shadows , but he does not acknowledge it, and quotes the same work a couple of pages later, rather disparagingly I feel. The idea that we might learn to appreciate an unfamiliar aesthetic from Japanese artefacts is presented with a take-it-or-leave-it air of humorous whimsy, less serious than the (still fairly light) tone in which, elsewhere, de Botton condemns the 'perverse' idea that architects should be creative and laments that Palladio did not give us more rules to obey. (OK I am overstating the case now...)
That de Botton can present a conclusion about rightness in architecture without ever using the word 'I' is perhaps the easiest demonstration of the self-positioning of the text, what I call its expansive occupation of the normative ground. By expanding briefly here and there into Islamic ecclesiastical architecture, Japanese ideas of beauty and occasional critiques of artistocratic privilege, de Botton gives the impression of having digested the entire spectrum of thought on his topic. The deliberate impression of roundedness denies the existence of an angle.
I have worked with architects, and I believe that the subject requires the very deepest thought, because I agree with de Botton that where we are shapes how we feel and what we do. And because I think a successful architecture is one that responds to who we are and what we want. How can one write a book on architecture without ever mentioning the body? Architecture is, I believe, the art that answers dance, the art that mediates between the body and the earth. And it is a collective endeavour, requiring for its realisation diverse materials and skills, all too often applied with no involvement of the people who must use them. De Botton is moodily discontented with the status quo, but astonishingly he never considers the power relations inherent in questions of who benefits from decisions about what is built where, how and for whom to use. It is not enough.
Casa P, Sao Paulo, by Marcio Kogan
That most of this feels like something I might myself have written, I take to be an indictment of my own education. I am going to an attempt a highly critical reading, because I am suspicious of how comfortable I feel in it. Technically, it is as much about interior decoration as about architecture, but that makes less of a snappy title.
The book never quite stops apologising for its subject, de Botton repeating that architecture seems trivial to most people and that its effect on us is subtle and a depressing consequence of our moral and emotional frailty. He ignores the fact that most people, while they may care deeply about their built environments, have little or no control over them.
Negative views of people and life are also repeated over and over. Such pessimism is easily justified of course, and in other books I have appreciated de Botton's gentle way of reminding us that we usually do not live up to our aspirations by sharing a relatable and amusing tale of his own failings. However, I believe this taken-for-granted pessimism is corrosive, and I resent the way in which it functions here as an unjustified assumption when it is actually culturally specific. It is as if to appeal to people who live unluxurious lives, de Botton's were to adopt a soothing tone: I know it's hard but...
The book is preoccupied with beauty, making a gesture towards understanding this as a problematic metric for architecture, which is not followed through. Instead, de Botton defends it, essentially ridiculing modernism for treating beauty with suspicion. That modernism, like neoclassicism for example, presented a set of values and hypocritically pretended objectivity about them is a good point, but it is insufficient to return us uncritically to north/west European aesthetic values, the racist sexist classist grounding of which are here left almost untouched.
De Botton does occasionally draw attention to and mildly criticise building that expresses elitism and self-congratulation, but more often he is impressed by it. The language of dominance and submission is deployed with disturbing approval and regularity:
From a traffic island at the upper end of a wide Parisian street, the view takes in a symmetrical, spacious corridor of stately apartment buildings that culminate in a wide square in which a man stands proudly on top of a column. Despite the discord of the world, these blocks have settled their differences and humbly arranged themselves in perfect repetitive patterns... not a single railing is out of line...The buildings seem to have shuffled forwards like a troupe of ballet dancers, each one aligning its toes to the very same point on the pavement as though in obediance to the baton of a strict dancing-master. The dominant rhythm of the blocks is accompanied by subsidiary harmonic progressions of lamps and benches... an impression of beauty tied to qualities of regularity and uniformity, inviting the conclusion that at the heart of a certain kind of architectural greatness there lies the concept of order...
The street speaks of the sacrifice demanded by all works of architecture… the street moves us because we recognise how sharply its qualities contrast with those which generally colour our lives. We call it beautiful from a humbling overfamiliarity with its antitheses: in domestic life, with sulks and petty disputes, and in architecture, with streets whose elements crossly decide to pay no heed to the appearance of their neighbours and instead cry out chaotically for attention, like jealous and enraged lovers. This ordered street offers a lesson in the benefits of surrendering individual freedom for the sake of a higher and collective scheme, in which all parts become something greater by contributing to the whole. Though we are creatures inclined to squabble, kill, steal and lie, the street reminds us that we can occasionally master our baser impulses and turn a waste land, where for centuries wolves howled, into a monument of civilisation
We might agree that repeated, regular forms in architecture can indeed be visually pleasing, and it could be argued that de Botton writes in this manner to express this value in a full-blooded manner. No doubt. But since he argues, extensively, that architecture is aspirational and speaks to us about who we want to be, and also mourns failures to hear it, perhaps we should not let this call to get in line pass unremarked. Religion, a preoccupation of de Botton, who assumes a secular (white middle class British educated) reader throughout, is another locus for feelings of submission. I find it strange that he assumes everyone who enters a cathedral will feel the urge to 'fall to [their] knees and worship a being as mighty and sublime as we are ourselves small and inadequate'. I generally feel a contrary impulse to fly into the sky in concert with the soaring forms.
The butt of de Botton's book is Le Corbusier, who is here, as elsewhere, blamed for the unedifying qualities of much of contemporary built environments. De Botton does once quote his nemesis with approval however, when it serves his own argument for order and conservatism: "These things are beautiful because in the middle of the apparent incoherence of nature or the cities of men [sic], they are places of geometry... and is not geometry pure joy?" de Botton (who also, by the way, uses the unmarked masculine for all people and the word 'mankind') replies (still talking about that same favourite regimental Parisian boulevard):
*centrifugal force does not exist.
Joy because geometry represents a victory over nature and because, despite what a sentimental reading might suggest, nature is in truth oppose to the order we rely on to survive. Left to its own devices, nature will not hesitate to crumble our roads, claw down our buildings, push wild vines through our walls and return every other feature of our carefully plotted geometric world to primal chaos. Nature's way is to corrode, melt, soften, stain and chew on the works of man [sic!]. And eventually it will win. Eventually we will find ourselves too worn out to resist its destructive centrifugal forces*: we will grow weary of repairing roofs and balconies, we will long for sleep, the lights will dim, and the weeds will be left to spread their cancerous[!] tentacles unchecked over our libraries and shops. our background awareness of inevitable calamity is what can make us especially sensitive to the beauty of a street, in which we recognise the very qualities on which our survival hangs.
Again, my reader may object that I push too hard. De Botton must dramatise his material - that is what we expect from writers. But this is not a novel and this language of malevolent violence attached to nature underlines that north/west European culture is founded on settler colonialism: in opposing civilisation to nature we see that the former must be madness. We can take this attitude of machismo and supremacy to the natural world but we will eventually destroy ourselves, for everything we have comes from nature and our daily needs depend on it to an extreme degree. A philosophy/architectural ideology that disdains the fact that plants, in concert with water soil and sunlight, make the oxygen and glucose that every cell of our bodies requires every second to act and feel, is an ideology of delusion and death.
I struggled not to be irritated by de Botton's sojourn in Japan, where he is petulant about the local architecture's failure to minister to the needs of his soul, formed elsewhere. When he finds a building he likes, his description seems lifted straight from In Praise of Shadows , but he does not acknowledge it, and quotes the same work a couple of pages later, rather disparagingly I feel. The idea that we might learn to appreciate an unfamiliar aesthetic from Japanese artefacts is presented with a take-it-or-leave-it air of humorous whimsy, less serious than the (still fairly light) tone in which, elsewhere, de Botton condemns the 'perverse' idea that architects should be creative and laments that Palladio did not give us more rules to obey. (OK I am overstating the case now...)
That de Botton can present a conclusion about rightness in architecture without ever using the word 'I' is perhaps the easiest demonstration of the self-positioning of the text, what I call its expansive occupation of the normative ground. By expanding briefly here and there into Islamic ecclesiastical architecture, Japanese ideas of beauty and occasional critiques of artistocratic privilege, de Botton gives the impression of having digested the entire spectrum of thought on his topic. The deliberate impression of roundedness denies the existence of an angle.
I have worked with architects, and I believe that the subject requires the very deepest thought, because I agree with de Botton that where we are shapes how we feel and what we do. And because I think a successful architecture is one that responds to who we are and what we want. How can one write a book on architecture without ever mentioning the body? Architecture is, I believe, the art that answers dance, the art that mediates between the body and the earth. And it is a collective endeavour, requiring for its realisation diverse materials and skills, all too often applied with no involvement of the people who must use them. De Botton is moodily discontented with the status quo, but astonishingly he never considers the power relations inherent in questions of who benefits from decisions about what is built where, how and for whom to use. It is not enough.
January 10, 2009
I find myself looking at art and buildings differently after reading The Architecture of Happiness, so I cannot deny the power of the text on an architectural neophyte. And while I don’t agree with all of the author’s assertions, I found myself reacting rigorously to his contentions. Add beautiful prose, and yes, I can recommend The Architecture of Happiness.
The book reads like a combination of architecture primer and persuasive essay stocked with supporting photos and illustrations. De Botton’s focus on the individual, psychological responses to (what he calls) ugly and beautiful buildings is engaging; for example, when discussing the role of art in a house he says:
Behind wanting to own the painting and hang it where we could regularly study it might be the hope that through continued exposure to it, its qualities would come to assume a greater hold on us. Passing it on the stairs last thing at night or in the morning on our way to work would have the effect of a magnet which could pull to the surface submerged filaments of our characters. The painting would act as a guardian of a mood.
However, the author’s reliance on the collective “we” is sometimes problematic. De Botton uses the collective “we” to support his sometimes shaky assertions. For example, he broadly asserts that disordered societies will seek out ordered art and buildings and stringent societies will seek out more creative art and buildings. I’m not sure generalizations of that nature are widespread enough to cover the “we” in the way De Botton suggests.
I have to say, however, that De Botton writes beautifully enough to lull his reader past a few questionable points, and once I became comfortable with the personal, conversational approach I could sit back and have fun with the book. Ladies, by the way, this guy is British, smart, young, and, from the book jacket pic, good looking. Keep your eyes out for book signings.
After reading The Architecture of Happiness I find myself thinking of why my Day of the Dead nightlight makes me happy and what I could do to improve my office’s cinderblock walls. I don’t know jack about architecture (no single book can change that) but I’ll tilt my head a little differently and think in new ways about architecture as a result of this book. If you’re into that sort of “change your perspective on a common societal element” text, check it out.
edit: I take back what I said about him being good looking after I checked out his author pic on his goodreads page. He looks like he's aged about 100 years since the book jacket pic.
The book reads like a combination of architecture primer and persuasive essay stocked with supporting photos and illustrations. De Botton’s focus on the individual, psychological responses to (what he calls) ugly and beautiful buildings is engaging; for example, when discussing the role of art in a house he says:
Behind wanting to own the painting and hang it where we could regularly study it might be the hope that through continued exposure to it, its qualities would come to assume a greater hold on us. Passing it on the stairs last thing at night or in the morning on our way to work would have the effect of a magnet which could pull to the surface submerged filaments of our characters. The painting would act as a guardian of a mood.
However, the author’s reliance on the collective “we” is sometimes problematic. De Botton uses the collective “we” to support his sometimes shaky assertions. For example, he broadly asserts that disordered societies will seek out ordered art and buildings and stringent societies will seek out more creative art and buildings. I’m not sure generalizations of that nature are widespread enough to cover the “we” in the way De Botton suggests.
I have to say, however, that De Botton writes beautifully enough to lull his reader past a few questionable points, and once I became comfortable with the personal, conversational approach I could sit back and have fun with the book. Ladies, by the way, this guy is British, smart, young, and, from the book jacket pic, good looking. Keep your eyes out for book signings.
After reading The Architecture of Happiness I find myself thinking of why my Day of the Dead nightlight makes me happy and what I could do to improve my office’s cinderblock walls. I don’t know jack about architecture (no single book can change that) but I’ll tilt my head a little differently and think in new ways about architecture as a result of this book. If you’re into that sort of “change your perspective on a common societal element” text, check it out.
edit: I take back what I said about him being good looking after I checked out his author pic on his goodreads page. He looks like he's aged about 100 years since the book jacket pic.
December 24, 2017
Years ago I listened to a lecture by the Muslim scholar Sayyid Hossein Nasr that described the philosophy of traditional Islamic city planning, some of which still survives today in places like Fez and Esfahan. As Nasr described, these cities and their component parts were designed with the explicit belief that a person's external environment strongly influenced their internal state. A city that at every turn subtly reminded people of the divine reality would in turn help them gravitate towards the divine in their actions and beliefs.
According to this philosophy, Islamic cities, buildings and daily implements were all designed with a view to ornamentation and symmetry on both the macro and micro levels. The harmony of the manmade world was intended to reflect the harmony of the God-created natural universe, so beauty in design was considered every bit as important as physical integrity. Beautiful objects and buildings were intended to speak to people's souls by reminding them of the divine realm of pure beauty and love, considered in Islam to be mankind's true paradisiacal home, towards which it yearns to return. "Beauty is the promise of happiness," Stendhal once wrote, and beauty in the built environment was intended to remind men and women in Islamic societies of the happiness that awaited them at the end of a virtuous life.
I was reminded of this lecture while reading this book by Alain de Botton; in particular while coming across an arresting passage on the Christian philosophy of beauty and its explanation of why physical beauty strangely tends to fill us with both happiness and melancholy simultaneously:
“Christian philosophers have been singularly alive to the sadness which beauty may provoke. 'When we admire the beauty of visible objects, we experience joy certainly,' observed the medieval thinker Hugh of St Victor, 'but at the same time, we experience a feeling of tremendous void.' The religious explanation put forward for this sadness, as rationally implausible as it is psychologically intriguing, is that we recognize beautiful things as symbols of the unblemished life we once enjoyed in the Garden of Eden. While we may one day resume this sublime existence in Heaven, the sins of Adam and Eve have deprived us of that possibility on earth.
Beauty, then, is a fragment of the divine, and the sight of it saddens us by evoking our sense of loss and our yearning for the life denied us. The qualities written into beautiful objects are those of a God from whom we live far removed, in a world mired in sin. But works of art are finite enough, and the care taken by those who create them great enough, that they can claim a measure of perfection ordinarily unattainable by human beings. These works are bitter-sweet tokens of a goodness to which we still aspire, however infrequently we may approach it in our actions or our thoughts."
This was a beautiful passage that recalled to me the important role of physical beauty in cultivating our inner lives, whether we consider ourselves religious or not. Beauty is a repository of our hopes and desires, both for ourselves and the world we would like to see around us. Living surrounded by it can fill us with contentment, while living in an environment devoid of beauty can make us unhappy for reasons we are unable to rationally articulate.
But how does a given person decide what is beautiful to them? As de Botton eloquently argues, what we find appealing or unappealing in a given thing tends to be a reflection of the values that we aspire to include in our own lives. Every piece of art, furniture or architecture embodies certain values that we subconsciously perceive. A regally ornamented building may remind us of grandeur, duty and intellectual cultivation in a world of mediocrity, while a piece of abstract art may remind us of freedom and playfulness in a world of regimented order. A chair could be welcoming, friendly and honest, whereas a lamp could be diligent, loyal and even irreverent. Depending on the person and the society that they inhabit, different pieces of art and the values that they embody may speak to them in different ways.
The values that appeal to us in art are often the values that we feel that our own lives and our societies as a whole are lacking. I think that there is a deceptively powerful message in this. Meditating about the things around you and the values that you perceive them is enlightening on a personal level, but it is also an invaluable tool for improving ones ability to both speak and write in a manner that speaks deeply to the inner lives of those around you. This is a good habit to develop, and one reflected in the genius of the most sensitive writers and artists.
Rather than being "realistic," art and architecture has traditionally had an aspirational quality to it. As de Botton notes, the idealized human forms depicted by the Greeks were intended to offer a reminder of the goals of human perfection in that society, rather than to depict life as it actually was for most people. The buildings and products we make today generally claim to be devoid of ideology, but this is impossible. A lack of ornamentation and grandeur in suburbs and modern cities (to say nothing of mass produced goods) may be said to reflect a certain pragmatism and capitalist desire for efficiency, but they also set standards of mediocrity for the people that inhabit these environments. Meanwhile the identical glass towers of neoliberal cities around the planet seems to speak to a homogenized world, created by and for the deracinated global elite that is able to enjoy a life flitting between them. These insipid environments may explain why so many of us seek to visit "old" places when we go on vacations. We unconsciously seek out the beauty and values embodied in the architecture of antiquity, values which are, in general, painfully absent in our modern cities and suburbs.
Although I'm a layperson when it comes to architecture, I'd argue that it is one field in which laypeople should be afforded at least a qualified opinion, since we all have to inhabit the physical world created by architects. In this book, de Botton makes a strong argument for remembering the importance of beauty in our daily lives and in our social policies. His writing is simple and elegant, and, whether intended or not, it also communicates through its erudition a compelling message about the value of beauty in the everyday. A wise and enjoyable book that was a pleasure to read, I would recommend it highly to anyone.
According to this philosophy, Islamic cities, buildings and daily implements were all designed with a view to ornamentation and symmetry on both the macro and micro levels. The harmony of the manmade world was intended to reflect the harmony of the God-created natural universe, so beauty in design was considered every bit as important as physical integrity. Beautiful objects and buildings were intended to speak to people's souls by reminding them of the divine realm of pure beauty and love, considered in Islam to be mankind's true paradisiacal home, towards which it yearns to return. "Beauty is the promise of happiness," Stendhal once wrote, and beauty in the built environment was intended to remind men and women in Islamic societies of the happiness that awaited them at the end of a virtuous life.
I was reminded of this lecture while reading this book by Alain de Botton; in particular while coming across an arresting passage on the Christian philosophy of beauty and its explanation of why physical beauty strangely tends to fill us with both happiness and melancholy simultaneously:
“Christian philosophers have been singularly alive to the sadness which beauty may provoke. 'When we admire the beauty of visible objects, we experience joy certainly,' observed the medieval thinker Hugh of St Victor, 'but at the same time, we experience a feeling of tremendous void.' The religious explanation put forward for this sadness, as rationally implausible as it is psychologically intriguing, is that we recognize beautiful things as symbols of the unblemished life we once enjoyed in the Garden of Eden. While we may one day resume this sublime existence in Heaven, the sins of Adam and Eve have deprived us of that possibility on earth.
Beauty, then, is a fragment of the divine, and the sight of it saddens us by evoking our sense of loss and our yearning for the life denied us. The qualities written into beautiful objects are those of a God from whom we live far removed, in a world mired in sin. But works of art are finite enough, and the care taken by those who create them great enough, that they can claim a measure of perfection ordinarily unattainable by human beings. These works are bitter-sweet tokens of a goodness to which we still aspire, however infrequently we may approach it in our actions or our thoughts."
This was a beautiful passage that recalled to me the important role of physical beauty in cultivating our inner lives, whether we consider ourselves religious or not. Beauty is a repository of our hopes and desires, both for ourselves and the world we would like to see around us. Living surrounded by it can fill us with contentment, while living in an environment devoid of beauty can make us unhappy for reasons we are unable to rationally articulate.
But how does a given person decide what is beautiful to them? As de Botton eloquently argues, what we find appealing or unappealing in a given thing tends to be a reflection of the values that we aspire to include in our own lives. Every piece of art, furniture or architecture embodies certain values that we subconsciously perceive. A regally ornamented building may remind us of grandeur, duty and intellectual cultivation in a world of mediocrity, while a piece of abstract art may remind us of freedom and playfulness in a world of regimented order. A chair could be welcoming, friendly and honest, whereas a lamp could be diligent, loyal and even irreverent. Depending on the person and the society that they inhabit, different pieces of art and the values that they embody may speak to them in different ways.
The values that appeal to us in art are often the values that we feel that our own lives and our societies as a whole are lacking. I think that there is a deceptively powerful message in this. Meditating about the things around you and the values that you perceive them is enlightening on a personal level, but it is also an invaluable tool for improving ones ability to both speak and write in a manner that speaks deeply to the inner lives of those around you. This is a good habit to develop, and one reflected in the genius of the most sensitive writers and artists.
Rather than being "realistic," art and architecture has traditionally had an aspirational quality to it. As de Botton notes, the idealized human forms depicted by the Greeks were intended to offer a reminder of the goals of human perfection in that society, rather than to depict life as it actually was for most people. The buildings and products we make today generally claim to be devoid of ideology, but this is impossible. A lack of ornamentation and grandeur in suburbs and modern cities (to say nothing of mass produced goods) may be said to reflect a certain pragmatism and capitalist desire for efficiency, but they also set standards of mediocrity for the people that inhabit these environments. Meanwhile the identical glass towers of neoliberal cities around the planet seems to speak to a homogenized world, created by and for the deracinated global elite that is able to enjoy a life flitting between them. These insipid environments may explain why so many of us seek to visit "old" places when we go on vacations. We unconsciously seek out the beauty and values embodied in the architecture of antiquity, values which are, in general, painfully absent in our modern cities and suburbs.
Although I'm a layperson when it comes to architecture, I'd argue that it is one field in which laypeople should be afforded at least a qualified opinion, since we all have to inhabit the physical world created by architects. In this book, de Botton makes a strong argument for remembering the importance of beauty in our daily lives and in our social policies. His writing is simple and elegant, and, whether intended or not, it also communicates through its erudition a compelling message about the value of beauty in the everyday. A wise and enjoyable book that was a pleasure to read, I would recommend it highly to anyone.
September 23, 2021
كتابٌ عن "العَمَارة" وفنّ المعمار. ماذا يعني جمال بناءٍ ما؟ ما هو الجمال المعماري، كيف بدأ وإلى أيّ شكلٍ صار؟ ما الذي نبحث عنه في المعمار؟
وهل من أثرٍ للبناء في ساكنيه؟ وما أثرهم فيه، وما أثر الزمان والمكان فيهما؟
تلك أسئلة ذكية يطرحها الكاتب ويحاول الإجابة عنها، بأسلوبٍ مشوّقٍ وجميل. وقد زادته الترجمة البديعة ألقًا وجمالاً.
في الكتاب أفكارٌ عديدة، وتصاوير بليغة، وصورٌ فوتوغرافية كثيرة. ويصلح الكتاب مدخلاً فكريًا لراغبٍ في دراسة المعمار أو لهاوٍ يحبّ تأمّل المباني من حوله.
وأعيد الشكر للمترجم الذي جعلني أقرأ نصًا عربيًا رائقًا، وتمنيتُ لو أبقى على كلمة "معمار" بدل "عمارة" في العنوان، وقد استخدمها في التعريف بكتب المؤلف في الصفحات الأولى من الكتاب!
وهل من أثرٍ للبناء في ساكنيه؟ وما أثرهم فيه، وما أثر الزمان والمكان فيهما؟
تلك أسئلة ذكية يطرحها الكاتب ويحاول الإجابة عنها، بأسلوبٍ مشوّقٍ وجميل. وقد زادته الترجمة البديعة ألقًا وجمالاً.
في الكتاب أفكارٌ عديدة، وتصاوير بليغة، وصورٌ فوتوغرافية كثيرة. ويصلح الكتاب مدخلاً فكريًا لراغبٍ في دراسة المعمار أو لهاوٍ يحبّ تأمّل المباني من حوله.
وأعيد الشكر للمترجم الذي جعلني أقرأ نصًا عربيًا رائقًا، وتمنيتُ لو أبقى على كلمة "معمار" بدل "عمارة" في العنوان، وقد استخدمها في التعريف بكتب المؤلف في الصفحات الأولى من الكتاب!
May 28, 2012
(500) Days of Summer is one of my favorite movies. Being a real life embodiment of Tom Hansen, I thought I would give this book a try. It was impossible for me to watch the movie and not be curious as to why he was reading it and why he enjoyed it so much that he felt the need to give it to Summer.
When I first started this book I thought it was going to focus quite a bit on the psychology of why architecture has the ability of changing who we are. While it did delve into the idea of the different ways of expression through architecture, I felt like something was missing while I was reading it. There were moments where I really loved what Alain de Botton was saying about our surroundings and their ability to change and affect us. Just as quickly as those great moments came, however, they disappeared. While still very interesting, a lot of it was history and not enough explanation of why we are different people in different places, as he says at the beginning of the book.
It was still incredibly interesting to read and I did enjoy it, don't get me wrong. I loved his style of writing, especially at the very beginning. The way he pulls words together in order to describe things around us is mind blowing. I adored it. So while some parts seemed a little slow for me, by the time I put the book down I knew it had sparked something. It gets you thinking in a way you probably didn't before. When a book does that for me, I consider it something of quality. A lot of the inspiring things he says are things that don't even need to be purely applied to architecture, either. A lot of it can be applied to so many, if not all, art forms. So regardless of what it is you enjoy doing or the art you find yourself truly attracted to, you are bound to pull something valuable out of this book.
When I first started this book I thought it was going to focus quite a bit on the psychology of why architecture has the ability of changing who we are. While it did delve into the idea of the different ways of expression through architecture, I felt like something was missing while I was reading it. There were moments where I really loved what Alain de Botton was saying about our surroundings and their ability to change and affect us. Just as quickly as those great moments came, however, they disappeared. While still very interesting, a lot of it was history and not enough explanation of why we are different people in different places, as he says at the beginning of the book.
It was still incredibly interesting to read and I did enjoy it, don't get me wrong. I loved his style of writing, especially at the very beginning. The way he pulls words together in order to describe things around us is mind blowing. I adored it. So while some parts seemed a little slow for me, by the time I put the book down I knew it had sparked something. It gets you thinking in a way you probably didn't before. When a book does that for me, I consider it something of quality. A lot of the inspiring things he says are things that don't even need to be purely applied to architecture, either. A lot of it can be applied to so many, if not all, art forms. So regardless of what it is you enjoy doing or the art you find yourself truly attracted to, you are bound to pull something valuable out of this book.
December 5, 2018
One can easily tell from Alain de Botton's writing that he is one of the most genuinely kind individuals on this planet. This is an excellent book on the importance of thoughtful architecture. It would have been nice to have more discussion on the constraints of money, and how working-class folks can build homes the are a net positive instead of the cookie-cutter high-density suburban debacle that many of us are forced into.
July 8, 2022
قد نشعر أحيانًا بالانجراف بعيدًا عن ذواتنا الحقيقة
(الجانب العفوي الخلّاق الأصيل والمرهف من شخصيّتنا)
عند بوتون، قدرتنا على الوصول إلى (ذاتنا الحقيقية) هذه
محدّد بالأماكن التي نكون فيها، وألوان الجدران
وارتفاع السقف، وشكل الشارع، ونحوها
.
ضرب مثالًا لطيفًا على تأثير الأماكن
حين تغيّر اتجاه تفكيره واستعداداته الذهنيّة
بين عشاءه السريع في مطعم ماك الدنيويّ
ثمّ وقوفه وسط كاتدرائيّة تبعد دقيقة واحدة
بين العمليّة وضحك المراهقين وزيت القلي
ثمّ هيبة الفراغ الهائل وجلال التماثيل العظيمة
لدرجة أنّ المؤلّف الملحد كان على استعداد للإيمان
وترقّب نزول ملاك ينفخ البوق العتيق في الزاوية
.
سخر بطريقة رائعة من استيراد فن عمارة الآخرين
حين انزعج من فندق بطراز هولنديّ وسط طوكيو
وأضاف شرطًا مع انسجام عناصر العِمارة فيما بينها
وهو انسجام عناصر العِمارة مع ظروفها المحيطة ثقافيًا
وليس فقط مناخيًا: تخيّل نافذة فندق استوائيّ لا يمكن فتحها
أو في المقابل نافذة فندق على جبل متجمد لا يمكن إغلاقها
على كلّ حالة أن تكون انعكاسًا لسياقها الثقافي أيضًا
.
ما الثقافة؟ قوّة تحدّد حسّنا الجماليّ ومناطق اهتمامنا
يميل اليابانيّون مثلًا للفنّ عدم المتماثل وعدم المنتظم
وملا هو زائل وليس السرمدي، وللبسيط لا المزخرف
ليس بسبب الجينات والمناخ، بل بسبب طرح المفكرين
والرسامين والمنظّرين الذين وجّهوا الذوق الاجتماعي
.
أعجبتني سخريته من العولمة وكيف جعلت العالم مملًّا
وكيف أنّ تشابه طوكيو مع أوروبّا أفقد الرحلة معناها
.
ويرفض تبرير قبح العمارة بالميزانيّة الضعيفة
وأشار إلى أنّ الأحياء الثريّة في الرياض قبيحة
ليرفض العلاقة بين الثراء والجمال في المقابل
.
وجدت نفسي في عبارة لوكوربوزييه عن ما يلزم الإنسان الحديث
(صومعة راهب حسنة الإنارة والتدفئة، فيها ركن يستطيع أن ينظر منه للنجوم)
.
وأطربني الاقتباس عن روسكين القائل
(نرجو من مبانينا أمرين: تؤوينا، وتكلّمنا في كلّ ما نجده مهمًا، لتذكيرنا به)
.
خصمتُ نجمة لأنّه أحيانًا يشبه كتابًا أكاديميًا مملًا
عن تفاصيل صغيرة في عناصر عمارة بعض الثقافات
(الجانب العفوي الخلّاق الأصيل والمرهف من شخصيّتنا)
عند بوتون، قدرتنا على الوصول إلى (ذاتنا الحقيقية) هذه
محدّد بالأماكن التي نكون فيها، وألوان الجدران
وارتفاع السقف، وشكل الشارع، ونحوها
.
ضرب مثالًا لطيفًا على تأثير الأماكن
حين تغيّر اتجاه تفكيره واستعداداته الذهنيّة
بين عشاءه السريع في مطعم ماك الدنيويّ
ثمّ وقوفه وسط كاتدرائيّة تبعد دقيقة واحدة
بين العمليّة وضحك المراهقين وزيت القلي
ثمّ هيبة الفراغ الهائل وجلال التماثيل العظيمة
لدرجة أنّ المؤلّف الملحد كان على استعداد للإيمان
وترقّب نزول ملاك ينفخ البوق العتيق في الزاوية
.
سخر بطريقة رائعة من استيراد فن عمارة الآخرين
حين انزعج من فندق بطراز هولنديّ وسط طوكيو
وأضاف شرطًا مع انسجام عناصر العِمارة فيما بينها
وهو انسجام عناصر العِمارة مع ظروفها المحيطة ثقافيًا
وليس فقط مناخيًا: تخيّل نافذة فندق استوائيّ لا يمكن فتحها
أو في المقابل نافذة فندق على جبل متجمد لا يمكن إغلاقها
على كلّ حالة أن تكون انعكاسًا لسياقها الثقافي أيضًا
.
ما الثقافة؟ قوّة تحدّد حسّنا الجماليّ ومناطق اهتمامنا
يميل اليابانيّون مثلًا للفنّ عدم المتماثل وعدم المنتظم
وملا هو زائل وليس السرمدي، وللبسيط لا المزخرف
ليس بسبب الجينات والمناخ، بل بسبب طرح المفكرين
والرسامين والمنظّرين الذين وجّهوا الذوق الاجتماعي
.
أعجبتني سخريته من العولمة وكيف جعلت العالم مملًّا
وكيف أنّ تشابه طوكيو مع أوروبّا أفقد الرحلة معناها
.
ويرفض تبرير قبح العمارة بالميزانيّة الضعيفة
وأشار إلى أنّ الأحياء الثريّة في الرياض قبيحة
ليرفض العلاقة بين الثراء والجمال في المقابل
.
وجدت نفسي في عبارة لوكوربوزييه عن ما يلزم الإنسان الحديث
(صومعة راهب حسنة الإنارة والتدفئة، فيها ركن يستطيع أن ينظر منه للنجوم)
.
وأطربني الاقتباس عن روسكين القائل
(نرجو من مبانينا أمرين: تؤوينا، وتكلّمنا في كلّ ما نجده مهمًا، لتذكيرنا به)
.
خصمتُ نجمة لأنّه أحيانًا يشبه كتابًا أكاديميًا مملًا
عن تفاصيل صغيرة في عناصر عمارة بعض الثقافات
June 10, 2017
خوندن و پابهپاش دنبال کردن عکساش و سرچ کردن نمونههاش، برای کسی که یکم معماری دوست داشته باشه هم به نظرم خیلی جذاب میاد.
March 9, 2016
I probably made two mistakes when decided to start this book,
First: I chose a book about architecture and 'listened' to an audio version,
Second: I started it in a very busy day when I had too much driving to do, so more or less it became like a background noise.
Well, I will try to be fair, but even this review with the enclosed rating might not be fair at all. The book is so beautifully written. Very poetic and touches your heart to the core. But that is precisely why I found it extremely boring. Perhaps because architecture is supposed to be "visual", not described by words, and certainly not auditory. (or so I think). May be the reader was not good enough, may be the subject was not suitable, or may be the book was not well-written after all, for whenever I space out for even a few seconds, I am completely lost between the poetry of the words.
The book is supposed to discuss the effect of architecture on the happiness of societies, which is more or less related to the beauty of structures. The author outlines some rules that govern the beauty of buildings, throughout history and in different regions, and how it can be clearly defined, I think. Nevertheless, I am not sure the book added any significant information to my knowledge of the subject. Again, I might be wrong. I would, though, get back to a (hard copy) of this book. I will recommend it to first or second year students of architecture, but never an audio book, never.
First: I chose a book about architecture and 'listened' to an audio version,
Second: I started it in a very busy day when I had too much driving to do, so more or less it became like a background noise.
Well, I will try to be fair, but even this review with the enclosed rating might not be fair at all. The book is so beautifully written. Very poetic and touches your heart to the core. But that is precisely why I found it extremely boring. Perhaps because architecture is supposed to be "visual", not described by words, and certainly not auditory. (or so I think). May be the reader was not good enough, may be the subject was not suitable, or may be the book was not well-written after all, for whenever I space out for even a few seconds, I am completely lost between the poetry of the words.
The book is supposed to discuss the effect of architecture on the happiness of societies, which is more or less related to the beauty of structures. The author outlines some rules that govern the beauty of buildings, throughout history and in different regions, and how it can be clearly defined, I think. Nevertheless, I am not sure the book added any significant information to my knowledge of the subject. Again, I might be wrong. I would, though, get back to a (hard copy) of this book. I will recommend it to first or second year students of architecture, but never an audio book, never.
July 18, 2022
المباني لها فكرة خاصة بها ، وشخصية مستقلة تتصارع القيم والمثل والأمزجة للتوحد معها ، هذا الكتاب يحمل تاريخ البناء والعمارة في كل العصور ، ويحلل المنحتوتات ويوافق بين المخبوء بين طيات الجسد وبين المفسر عنه بهيئة معمارية اتخذها سكنا أو عنوانا لمضنون يستهدفه.
أقتفي أثر صديقاتي بقراءة هذا الكتاب وكذلك أرصد الأبنية من جديد وأكرس ذاكرتي على حصر كل أنواع الدهشة التي مررنا به ونحن نتجول في الأسواق والمتاحف والشوارع والمساجد والكنائس ، كان هناك صوتا غير منطوق به ، لكني كنت أسمعه ، ولم أملك تفسيرا منطقيا لما يحدث معي ؛ غير بعد مطالعة هذا الكتاب.
أقتفي أثر صديقاتي بقراءة هذا الكتاب وكذلك أرصد الأبنية من جديد وأكرس ذاكرتي على حصر كل أنواع الدهشة التي مررنا به ونحن نتجول في الأسواق والمتاحف والشوارع والمساجد والكنائس ، كان هناك صوتا غير منطوق به ، لكني كنت أسمعه ، ولم أملك تفسيرا منطقيا لما يحدث معي ؛ غير بعد مطالعة هذا الكتاب.
November 22, 2009
I really enjoyed this book. It's fast paced, conversational and exploratory. My favorite parts were the philosophizing about the nature of beauty. For example, de Botton discusses how we subconsciously humanize almost everything we see. We give buildings and sculptures personalities then judge them based on these projected human traits.
He talks about how the buildings and art we find appealing reflect the fulfillment of our desires, not what we are or have, but the ideals we aspire to. Because of this, the context of the viewer and the location of the piece become key contributors to determining its beauty and success. For example, churches should be capable of inspiring feelings of reverence or devotion in even non-religious people. Ornamental architecture has its place, as do the clean lines of modern architecture. In context, each serves a purpose and shouldn't be written off in favor of some non-existant universal ideal style.
De Botton has interesting opinions on how to integrate historical styles with modern buildings and he spends some time critiquing existing architects and buildings based on those standards. He feels that it's important to try to incorporate some of the unique historical aspects of the region's architecture but to also take into account modern needs and to be practical in choices. His approach to bad architecture is basically that it should be treated like any other bad art--get rid of it and start over. At times, there was a definite air of snobbishness about it, for example he takes a pretty broad swipe at all of Tokyo, but I didn't mind it too much. Snobbery can sometimes be productive. Perhaps his destroy and rebuild approach isn't always practical but despite my reservations about his implied methods of implementation, I admire the idealized goal of elevating beauty everywhere possible.
The Architecture of Happiness is written like an essay meant to to raise for discussion both new and old-but-forgotten ideas as well as to inspire us to change and improve our environment. In that, I believe it succeeds.
He talks about how the buildings and art we find appealing reflect the fulfillment of our desires, not what we are or have, but the ideals we aspire to. Because of this, the context of the viewer and the location of the piece become key contributors to determining its beauty and success. For example, churches should be capable of inspiring feelings of reverence or devotion in even non-religious people. Ornamental architecture has its place, as do the clean lines of modern architecture. In context, each serves a purpose and shouldn't be written off in favor of some non-existant universal ideal style.
De Botton has interesting opinions on how to integrate historical styles with modern buildings and he spends some time critiquing existing architects and buildings based on those standards. He feels that it's important to try to incorporate some of the unique historical aspects of the region's architecture but to also take into account modern needs and to be practical in choices. His approach to bad architecture is basically that it should be treated like any other bad art--get rid of it and start over. At times, there was a definite air of snobbishness about it, for example he takes a pretty broad swipe at all of Tokyo, but I didn't mind it too much. Snobbery can sometimes be productive. Perhaps his destroy and rebuild approach isn't always practical but despite my reservations about his implied methods of implementation, I admire the idealized goal of elevating beauty everywhere possible.
The Architecture of Happiness is written like an essay meant to to raise for discussion both new and old-but-forgotten ideas as well as to inspire us to change and improve our environment. In that, I believe it succeeds.
December 6, 2009
I'm not an architect or scientist, but a counselor and teacher. I read the book because of my interest in beauty, form and function. I enjoyed the author's compare and contrast method in discussing various architectural styles. Most amusing was Viscount Bangor and Lady Anne Bligh's Castle Ward. Negotiated to end a marital dispute on style, the Castle displays a Classic front and Gothic rear. The psychology of "talking buildings" was light hearted and a little far fetched for me at times. My problem was that I had to keep forcing myself to read this book. As a philosophy or psychology of architecture text, it lacked the enticement to keep reading. As a history it lacked organization and structure. As an eclectic free association it had some charming and interesting moments.
February 7, 2022
كتاب لم أقرأ له مثيلًا من قبل، ومع ذلك فقد وجدتُ الكثير من أفكاره منسجمة مع ما أجد نفسي أحيانًا أفكر فيه. تجربة قراءة غريبة ومألوفة في الوقت نفسه، قد تفتح العيون على عذوبة بلا حدود، لكنها أيضًا قد تمزق القلوب بحزن لا قرار له.
June 9, 2019
Bu kitabı kesinlikle okumalısınız: https://youtu.be/6Rj5biqp83M
Çünkü mimarlık, insan psikolojisine etkidiği sürece mimarlıktır. İyi ya da kötü. Eğer mekanlar insanı tanımlıyor ve insanlar da mekanı tanımlayabiliyorsa, işte tam olarak orada mimarlıktan bahsedebiliriz. Ah, tabii bir de Alain de Botton'dan.
Çünkü mimarlık, insan psikolojisine etkidiği sürece mimarlıktır. İyi ya da kötü. Eğer mekanlar insanı tanımlıyor ve insanlar da mekanı tanımlayabiliyorsa, işte tam olarak orada mimarlıktan bahsedebiliriz. Ah, tabii bir de Alain de Botton'dan.
June 26, 2009
A nod to my brother for introducing this book to me. De Botton completely disbunks the notion I'd adopted (from whom? where?) that good architecture is purely functional and anything else is simply the expression of an its designer's overactive ego. NOT. Surely architects are guilty of erecting bombastic works, but it by no means explains why the line of a rooftop or curve of a banister stirs a particular mood and emotion in its viewer. De Botton delves into the how we relate to objects, why one object draws us in, another repels us. A fascinating dissection of architecture and human nature. This book was a revelation to me.
September 26, 2021
احب هذه الأعمال التي تتسم بالامتلاء ان صح التعبير...
ان يكون الكاتب متأملًا وفيلسوفًا ينقب عن منابع أثر فن العمارة في نفسيات البشر عبر التاريخ... وان يعايش تلك التجارب ويبحث في الادب والتاريخ والفن ليستخلص ما نتركه في العمارة وما تتركه العمارة فينا،، كيف نجعل بيوتنا امتدادًا لهوياتنا الذاتية، وأحيانا مُثلا عليّا نذكر أنفسنا بها دائما.. وتلك الأماكن العامة عبر التاريخ والجغرافيا كيف عبرت عن طبيعة الثقافة والمجتمع وكيف تغيرت من تعبير عن الفضائل العليا إلى مراعاة طبيعة البشر البسيطة والمتناقضة...
ان يكون الكاتب متأملًا وفيلسوفًا ينقب عن منابع أثر فن العمارة في نفسيات البشر عبر التاريخ... وان يعايش تلك التجارب ويبحث في الادب والتاريخ والفن ليستخلص ما نتركه في العمارة وما تتركه العمارة فينا،، كيف نجعل بيوتنا امتدادًا لهوياتنا الذاتية، وأحيانا مُثلا عليّا نذكر أنفسنا بها دائما.. وتلك الأماكن العامة عبر التاريخ والجغرافيا كيف عبرت عن طبيعة الثقافة والمجتمع وكيف تغيرت من تعبير عن الفضائل العليا إلى مراعاة طبيعة البشر البسيطة والمتناقضة...
November 6, 2021
هذا الكتاب ما كنت ابحث عنه طويلًا عند بحثي عن كتب العمارة التي سوف تنورني وتخاطبني مخاطبة صديق عزيز
��تاب عميق ومنطقي جداً
استمتعت بكل أقسامه
سلس وممتع
جعلني اتفكر كثيراً وأتامل كثيراً واشارك أفكاره مع من يقدرونها
انصح به كل مهتم بالعمارة الحقيقية ✨
��تاب عميق ومنطقي جداً
استمتعت بكل أقسامه
سلس وممتع
جعلني اتفكر كثيراً وأتامل كثيراً واشارك أفكاره مع من يقدرونها
انصح به كل مهتم بالعمارة الحقيقية ✨
February 17, 2021
This book flipped a switch in me. I didn't know I could be interested in architecture, but de Botton was inspired by Stendhal's motto "beauty is the promise of happiness" and analyzes our surroundings and how human needs and desires manifest their ideals in architecture. I wish the book would've delved a bit more into the monetary aspect involved in deciding to build pretty much anything.
June 13, 2022
لم ينجح بوتون هذه المرة في لفت إنتباهي
رغم ذكاءه في استعراض أفكاره واستحضاره لمعاني مخفية وجميلة ذات صلة بالموضوع
بل إن العنوان بدا لي مضللا نوعا ما، "عمارة السعادة"
وقد كنت أحسب أنه يتكلم عن فلسفة السعادة، وهو في الواقع يتكلم عن فلسفة البناء والعمارة 🏠
وما كنت متخيلاً أن للعمارة فلسفة ومعاني تختزلها جدرانها ومبانيها...
يحسب لبوتون أصالة فكرته، ولكن الملل يصحبك في بعض فصول الكتاب...
رغم ذكاءه في استعراض أفكاره واستحضاره لمعاني مخفية وجميلة ذات صلة بالموضوع
بل إن العنوان بدا لي مضللا نوعا ما، "عمارة السعادة"
وقد كنت أحسب أنه يتكلم عن فلسفة السعادة، وهو في الواقع يتكلم عن فلسفة البناء والعمارة 🏠
وما كنت متخيلاً أن للعمارة فلسفة ومعاني تختزلها جدرانها ومبانيها...
يحسب لبوتون أصالة فكرته، ولكن الملل يصحبك في بعض فصول الكتاب...
January 21, 2024
بسیار مفید و آموزنده برای هر کسی که به زیباییشناسی، روانشناسی، تاریخ هنر و مخصوصاً معماری علاقهمند هست. من هر دو ترجمه موجود رو با متن اصلی مقایسه کردم و کاملاً مشخص هست که ترجمه بهاره پژومند از ترجمه آقای مردانیان به متن اصلی وفادارتر هست. برای نمونه:
Architecture may well possess moral messages; it simply has no power to enforce them. It offers suggestions instead of making laws. It invites, rather than orders, us to emulate its spirit and cannot prevent its own abuse.
ترجمه پژومند (با عنوان معماری شادمانه)
معماری میتواند حاوی پیامهای اخلاقی باشد، فقط قدرتی برای اجرای آنها ندارد. به جای قانونگذاری، پیشنهاد میدهد. به جای فرمان دادن، دعوتمان میکند که از جوهرهاش پیروی کنیم و نمیتواند مانع سوءاستفاده از خود شود.
ترجمه مردانیان (با عنوان معماری شادکامی)
معماری میتواند پیام اخلاقی داشته باشد اما قدرت حقنه کردن آن را ندارد. معماری به جای قانون گذاری، پیشنهاد کرده و به جای دستور دادن، از ما دعوت میکند از نشاط آن سرمشق بگیریم و نمیتواند دست از این رفتار نادرستش بردارد.
Architecture may well possess moral messages; it simply has no power to enforce them. It offers suggestions instead of making laws. It invites, rather than orders, us to emulate its spirit and cannot prevent its own abuse.
ترجمه پژومند (با عنوان معماری شادمانه)
معماری میتواند حاوی پیامهای اخلاقی باشد، فقط قدرتی برای اجرای آنها ندارد. به جای قانونگذاری، پیشنهاد میدهد. به جای فرمان دادن، دعوتمان میکند که از جوهرهاش پیروی کنیم و نمیتواند مانع سوءاستفاده از خود شود.
ترجمه مردانیان (با عنوان معماری شادکامی)
معماری میتواند پیام اخلاقی داشته باشد اما قدرت حقنه کردن آن را ندارد. معماری به جای قانون گذاری، پیشنهاد کرده و به جای دستور دادن، از ما دعوت میکند از نشاط آن سرمشق بگیریم و نمیتواند دست از این رفتار نادرستش بردارد.
March 9, 2019
“Tendiamo ad attribuire il nome «casa» a quei luoghi il cui aspetto corrisponde al nostro e lo legittima. Non è indispensabile che le nostre case ci offrano in riparo permanente o che contengano i nostri vestiti per meritare questo nome. Parlare di casa in relazione a un edificio significa semplicemente riconoscere che è in armonia con il canto interiore a noi caro. Casa può essere anche un aeroporto o una biblioteca, un giardino o una tavola calda lungo l'autostrada. Il nostro amore per la casa è a sua volta il riconoscimento di quanto la nostra identità non si autodetermini. Ci serve una casa in senso psicologico oltre che in senso fisico, per compensare le nostre vulnerabilità. Ci serve un rifugio per puntellare i nostri stati mentali, perché spesso il mondo ci rema contro. Ci servono stanze nostre per trovare una versione desiderabile di noi stessi e mantenere in vita i lati importanti, ma evanescenti, della nostra personalità”.
Devo ammettere che questo libro mi ha piacevolmente stupito. Offre un punto di vista assolutamente originale e non banale. De Carlo disse che l’architettura è troppo importante per lasciarla agli architetti. In effetti, De Botton, che non è un architetto, riesce a scandaglire il rapporto tra uomo ed architettura. Un rapporto intimo e profondo. Un rapporto, spesso inconscio, che suscita emozioni, stati d’animo, sensazioni, che non riusciamo a controllare e di cui non ci rendiamo conto. Un rapporto difficile da comprendere perché ha ben poco di razionale. L’autore, in modo convincente, prova ad analizzare i diversi aspetti attraverso cui l’uomo si relaziona con l’architettura (più in generale con l’ambiente da cui è circondato) libero dai paradigmi dettati dalla composizione architettonica e dalle altre disciline accademiche. La scrittura è scorrevole e il volume è ricco di immagini. Non è un volume per tecnici e progettisti, non solo. È un libro per tutti perché tutti viviamo nelle nostre case, lavoriamo in uffici o capannoni, camminiamo per le strade, a volte dormiamo negli hotel, mangiamo nei ristoranti, visitiamo musei e monumenti.
Devo ammettere che questo libro mi ha piacevolmente stupito. Offre un punto di vista assolutamente originale e non banale. De Carlo disse che l’architettura è troppo importante per lasciarla agli architetti. In effetti, De Botton, che non è un architetto, riesce a scandaglire il rapporto tra uomo ed architettura. Un rapporto intimo e profondo. Un rapporto, spesso inconscio, che suscita emozioni, stati d’animo, sensazioni, che non riusciamo a controllare e di cui non ci rendiamo conto. Un rapporto difficile da comprendere perché ha ben poco di razionale. L’autore, in modo convincente, prova ad analizzare i diversi aspetti attraverso cui l’uomo si relaziona con l’architettura (più in generale con l’ambiente da cui è circondato) libero dai paradigmi dettati dalla composizione architettonica e dalle altre disciline accademiche. La scrittura è scorrevole e il volume è ricco di immagini. Non è un volume per tecnici e progettisti, non solo. È un libro per tutti perché tutti viviamo nelle nostre case, lavoriamo in uffici o capannoni, camminiamo per le strade, a volte dormiamo negli hotel, mangiamo nei ristoranti, visitiamo musei e monumenti.
April 10, 2008
This book was a gift from my fiancee and, in fact, one of the first books he gave me. For that reason, it will forever hold a special place on my bookshelves. I enjoyed the book overall however; I felt as though it was a bit of an architectural history review and didn't fully delve into the ties between psychology and architecture. I found myself thinking on many occasions, "Ooooh, here's his chance - this could get really good!" Only to feel a wee bit disappointed when his sermon had ended. I felt as though the end was a little preachy and didn't end on one solid thought that really spoke to me. In fact, the last chapter I had to kind of make myself finish. I liked the idea of the book and I even marked a couple of passages that moved me. I just wish the author would have had something more unique and substantial to say about something I feel so passionately about.
Read
May 5, 2020Alain de Botton'nun kendi anlatım biçiminden mimarlığı okuyoruz. Botton, mekan ile olan deneyimlerimizi, güzellik meselesini, mimarlığın önemli başlıklarını verdiği örneklerle anlamlanırıp büyütüyor. Okuması yormayan bir kitap. Bakışı ve bilinci mimarlık özelinde derinleştiriyor. Kendimizde olmayanı gördüğümüz binalar etkileyici ve güzel gelir noktası biraz şaşırtıcı. Bir hatırlatma ve iyilik aracı olarak bina meselesi.
October 16, 2016
His writing style just flows, it's never boring.
His sensuality to space isn't sentimental at all, it's on point, he makes it feel like realistic poetry, were you just can't but relate, it's not just for architects, it's for everyone that has depth.
His sensuality to space isn't sentimental at all, it's on point, he makes it feel like realistic poetry, were you just can't but relate, it's not just for architects, it's for everyone that has depth.
July 19, 2016
I originally rated this book 4 stars; but given how often I think about it, how often Sam and I talk about it, and how frequently I recommend it to library patrons and friends I had to bump it up.
March 7, 2018
.الجمال×(الفن+العمارة)=السعادة
September 15, 2022
pretentious to the point of calling it unrelieved. still pretty much valid.
“A diversity of styles is a natural consequence of the manifold nature of our inner needs. It is only logical that we should be drawn to styles that speak of excitement as well as calm, of grandeur as well as cosiness, given that these are key polarities around which our own lives revolve. As Stendhal knew, ‘There are as many styles of beauty as there are visions of happiness’”. yep, agreed
ALSO, the corbusier slander was sooo necessary.
“A diversity of styles is a natural consequence of the manifold nature of our inner needs. It is only logical that we should be drawn to styles that speak of excitement as well as calm, of grandeur as well as cosiness, given that these are key polarities around which our own lives revolve. As Stendhal knew, ‘There are as many styles of beauty as there are visions of happiness’”. yep, agreed
ALSO, the corbusier slander was sooo necessary.
December 18, 2022
Me cuesta bastante darles notas a los libros la vdd y es algo que no me acaba de convencer de esta app pero weno, dicho esto, procedo a hablar del libro jejeje.
Bueno pues yo pensaba que sería un libro sobre arquitectura muy denso, y del que yo no me enteraría de nada pk no sé nada del tema, pero todo lo contrario!!! Es una especie de reflexión sobre la belleza y la estética centrándose en la arquitectura (o eso entendí yo). Sí que es cierto que si te la suda la arquitectura seguramente te sea bastante sin más o no acabes de sacarle nada, pero yo creo que saqué bastantes cosas de hecho!!!
Me gustó mucho que tuviera tantas fotos que ilustraban todo lo que se decía, aunque para verlas en color las tuviera que buscar en Google.
Yo no leo mucha no ficción y este libro es muy ameno, obviamente hay partes más rollo que otras pero en general es muy muy ameno y dan ganas de leer más pese a que obviamente no tiene trama alguna jajaja.
Hay unas cuantas erratas que yo haya detectado y eso me ha molestado un poco, pk croe k también hay alguna frase que parece que hubo algún fallo de traducción o algo no sé.
Es bastante curioso que yo no estaba de acuerdo en muchas cosas de las que hablaba sobre la estética, y creo que eso fue lo que más me gustó pk me hizo darle unas vueltas a mis ideas, aunque no haya cedido tampoco en mi visión!!! Me hizo pensar bastante la vdd durante muchos días y creo que me hará pensar unos cuántos más. Tmb es cierto que es un poco mi mierda, o sea mezclar arquitectura con reflexiones sobre estética que no son especialmente difíciles de seguir, pues, a ver, a mí en concreto es algo que tenía ya bastantes puntos para gustarme......
Creo k es un libro que suelen leer los arquitectos y tiene sentido opino yo... Yo no soy arquitecto pero si lo fuera creo que me gustaría haber leído esto mientras estudio la carrera o algo pk te puede hacer pensar bastante. No creo k a todo el mundo le vaya a gustar o interesar este libro pero tampoco creo que sea la cosa más concreta y nicho del mundo, y en ese punto entre nicho y generalidad me encuentro yo, por eso creo k hemos congeniado bastante!!!
Un beso a todxs mis lectores si llegasteis hasta aquí os mando un beso y un abrazo y no sé qué más!!! Me encanta leer vuestras reseñas un beso 💋💋💋💌💌💌
Bueno pues yo pensaba que sería un libro sobre arquitectura muy denso, y del que yo no me enteraría de nada pk no sé nada del tema, pero todo lo contrario!!! Es una especie de reflexión sobre la belleza y la estética centrándose en la arquitectura (o eso entendí yo). Sí que es cierto que si te la suda la arquitectura seguramente te sea bastante sin más o no acabes de sacarle nada, pero yo creo que saqué bastantes cosas de hecho!!!
Me gustó mucho que tuviera tantas fotos que ilustraban todo lo que se decía, aunque para verlas en color las tuviera que buscar en Google.
Yo no leo mucha no ficción y este libro es muy ameno, obviamente hay partes más rollo que otras pero en general es muy muy ameno y dan ganas de leer más pese a que obviamente no tiene trama alguna jajaja.
Hay unas cuantas erratas que yo haya detectado y eso me ha molestado un poco, pk croe k también hay alguna frase que parece que hubo algún fallo de traducción o algo no sé.
Es bastante curioso que yo no estaba de acuerdo en muchas cosas de las que hablaba sobre la estética, y creo que eso fue lo que más me gustó pk me hizo darle unas vueltas a mis ideas, aunque no haya cedido tampoco en mi visión!!! Me hizo pensar bastante la vdd durante muchos días y creo que me hará pensar unos cuántos más. Tmb es cierto que es un poco mi mierda, o sea mezclar arquitectura con reflexiones sobre estética que no son especialmente difíciles de seguir, pues, a ver, a mí en concreto es algo que tenía ya bastantes puntos para gustarme......
Creo k es un libro que suelen leer los arquitectos y tiene sentido opino yo... Yo no soy arquitecto pero si lo fuera creo que me gustaría haber leído esto mientras estudio la carrera o algo pk te puede hacer pensar bastante. No creo k a todo el mundo le vaya a gustar o interesar este libro pero tampoco creo que sea la cosa más concreta y nicho del mundo, y en ese punto entre nicho y generalidad me encuentro yo, por eso creo k hemos congeniado bastante!!!
Un beso a todxs mis lectores si llegasteis hasta aquí os mando un beso y un abrazo y no sé qué más!!! Me encanta leer vuestras reseñas un beso 💋💋💋💌💌💌
February 16, 2008
I'm not an architect nor an architecture expert, but I am definitely interested in the subject. This book isn't a technical treatise on what makes "good" architecture, but instead talks about how architecture reflects who we are, how we feel about our lives, and how architecture can make us feel. I enjoyed the musings, and the historical perspective, especially in such insightful passages as this one, on how people developed local housing styles in earlier centuries:
"The difficulties of travel also hindered the spread of knowledge about alternative building methods. Printing costs meant that few ever saw so much as a picture of how houses looked in other parts of the world (which explains why, in so much of early northern religious art, Jesus was born in what appears to be a chalet)." Just one of many nice little "aha!" moments...for me, anyway.
"The difficulties of travel also hindered the spread of knowledge about alternative building methods. Printing costs meant that few ever saw so much as a picture of how houses looked in other parts of the world (which explains why, in so much of early northern religious art, Jesus was born in what appears to be a chalet)." Just one of many nice little "aha!" moments...for me, anyway.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,174 reviews