4.0 out of 5 stars
Notes from a curmudgeon, July 8 2004
In many ways, James Kunstler's "The City in Mind: Notes on the Urban Condition" is simply one long bash against big cities. London is "sordid", Mexico City is a "hypertrophied organism", Las Vegas a "dubious urbanoid organism", Atlanta is a "galaxy of Edge City projects tied together by freeways and gruesome collector streets." Paris, Boston, Berlin and Rome don't fare much better. Good golly, it almost makes you wonder why we city-dwellers have actually chosen to live here.
A book subtitled "Notes" is entitled to be personal, random and subjective. Taken as such, there's a good deal here to inform, entertain and warn: Just don't expect objectivity or sensible suggestions for improvement. Kunstler sees the urban future given over to "tarantulas, buzzards and rats." But many of we city-dwellers live where we do because of the complicated histories behind our places of abode and the disordered messiness of the buildings, streets, parks and people. "The City in Mind" feeds that craving by telling some genuinely interesting stories about the background of these cities.
Kunstler uses Rome to digress on classical architecture, Mexico City to retell the history of Mexican Indian civilization and its effect on modern urban bureaucracy, and Berlin to tie a community's self-image to its choice of architecture. The problem is that, since he concentrates only on a few aspects of each city's development - and usually negative aspects, at that - readers not personally familiar with these cities are going to get a very distorted view of them. I know most of these cities, I've lived in more than one, but I still don't trust the picture presented of the couple I haven't personally visited.
At least one can't accuse the author of a foolish consistency. The chapter on Mexico City describes in some sympathetic detail the possible reasons behind the Aztecs' docility in the face of Spanish assault. But another chapter fails to identify the exact same phenomenon in Atlanta suburbanites who are faced with the carnage caused by automobiles sharing space with humans. He condemns Boston's plan to use the 27-acre site over the Big Dig for a huge "open space", but is as "shocked" as a Victorian maiden when startled by another man enjoying London's Hampstead Heath who steps into his path from behind one of the trees in a "thicket of real woods."
I suspect that most of the negative reviews of this book have come from people who have seen their favorite cities gored by Kunstler. It's fine for us to complain about our cities, is the attitude, but we just don't appreciate visitors from Saratoga Springs doing the same thing. That's unnecessarily defensive. Our cities have burned to the ground (Atlanta and London), been bombed into smithereens (Berlin), and fallen on hard times (Rome and Paris). They will survive a curmudgeon.
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2.0 out of 5 stars
Stick to commentary on the urban condition..., Jan 9 2004
While Kunstler in the past has accurately described the current dilemma of the space in which we live, particularly in the Geography of Nowhere and Home from Nowhere, his focus is much less acute in this text. Take his chapter on London--instead of his usual critical eye discussing the landscape of London, we get a rehashed lesson in history and countless digressions in reference to other cities topped off with a remark about homosexuals in a park. Most annoying however, is his increasing penchant for attacking individuals rather than problems (note his inexcuseable comments about a woman who has just lost her husband in his chapter on Atlanta). His anger may keep him vigilant on the subject of suburban sprawl, but it often times detracts from the reader empathizing with the position he puts forward.
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2.0 out of 5 stars
Typical American Whining..., July 20 2003
By A Customer
I have to agree with a few of the other reviews that the language employed in this book, the atypical acerbic, funny for funny sake description can get a little carried away at times. Nevertheless, I did appreciate the chapter on Las Vegas on how the pedestrians move from the corners of the 4 casinos to other side of the road! I thought that was probably the humorous climax of the book; after that, it was a slide to nowhere, particularly pronounced in the last chapter 'London'. It seemed that the author himself has lost interest in his own flaccid humor after a while and has indeed, ran home 'to his wife for some whiskies on their leather couch'.
I am not defending Modernism and some of its inevitable ills but I did not like the one sided bashing that the author employed in this book, particularly addressed to the mostly casual readers, the audience of this book. According to the author, everything that is 'European' is good and everything that symbolises America is bad. I think he should ask some europeans why they leave their Haussmann's cities to come live in California, or Orange County. I think his analysis is romantic and dreamy at best, and that coupled with his choice of intentionally bombastic vocabulary, makes this book his very own reality. Certainly not a reality that is shared by all.
This is the kind of book that should be dubed into audio cassettes for those depicted poor souls trapped in their monstrous SUVs for hours with nothing much to do, and definitely nothing much to lose listening to his ramblings of this american narrative of loss.
If every place becomes Paris, I am sure Mr Kunstler will have nothing to write about.
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