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The Sack of Bath
A 1973 polemic, full of black and white photographs of Bath, raging at the destruction of Bath's 18th-century artisan terraced housing.
81 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 1973
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
June 22, 2011
This book points out the seemingly-ill planned and destructive act of modernizing Bath, England, in the early 1970s. I am old enough to remember similar actions occurring in familiar areas in the U.S. along about that same time period. We all wanted to be modern and life would be better with those plain, square-cornered cracker box buildings I guess. Reading it reminds me how quickly the corporate business world can ignore heritage and how hard it is to preserve part of a culture when it is being bulldozed by the city acre.
June 22, 2011
The Sack of Bath was written in 1973 in response to the decisions made by Bath City Council to demolish large swathes of Georgian cottages in order to provide the city with newer houses, better access and improved facilities. Fergusson acknowledges that the aim itself was admirable but the ways in which they sought to accomplish it were misguided. With words and pictures he illustrates the ongoing destruction of Bath and issues a heartfelt plea for it to be stopped and more reasonable measures, such as renovation and preservation, be considered instead.
Although The Sack of Bath is just as well written today as it was when it was first published, it lacks the immediacy which it would have had in the 1970′s when the demolition and construction was being carried out. It is interesting, yes, but in a vague and distant way rather than in an inciting-architectural-rage-and-writing-to-your-local-MP-to-stop-this-sort-of-thing way that I suspect it was intended. The closest thing that I can liken it to is reading a newspaper article covering some terrible natural disaster and trying to encourage readers to give aid, but doing so nearly forty years after the event when everyone appears to have recovered quite nicely, thank you very much. It just isn’t the same as reading it when it was relevant.
The problem is that the book is written in such hyperbolic language and strident tones that it implies nothing less than the wholesale destruction of historic Bath, which couldn’t be more different to what any visitor to Bath today will see as they walk around the city. In fact, the most recent new development is incredibly sympathetic to the aesthetics of the city and blends in beautifully (or as beautifully as modern high street shops ever could) with the historical setting. Admittedly this is probably at least in part due to the pressure of action such as the publication of The Sack of Bath but there is such a huge gap between this and the city overrun with hideous concrete boxes that you might expect from reading the book that it lost a lot of impact for me. Clearly this book was influential in its time and I have no doubt that it did a lot of good, but I didn’t find that it quite worked reading it now.
Although The Sack of Bath is just as well written today as it was when it was first published, it lacks the immediacy which it would have had in the 1970′s when the demolition and construction was being carried out. It is interesting, yes, but in a vague and distant way rather than in an inciting-architectural-rage-and-writing-to-your-local-MP-to-stop-this-sort-of-thing way that I suspect it was intended. The closest thing that I can liken it to is reading a newspaper article covering some terrible natural disaster and trying to encourage readers to give aid, but doing so nearly forty years after the event when everyone appears to have recovered quite nicely, thank you very much. It just isn’t the same as reading it when it was relevant.
The problem is that the book is written in such hyperbolic language and strident tones that it implies nothing less than the wholesale destruction of historic Bath, which couldn’t be more different to what any visitor to Bath today will see as they walk around the city. In fact, the most recent new development is incredibly sympathetic to the aesthetics of the city and blends in beautifully (or as beautifully as modern high street shops ever could) with the historical setting. Admittedly this is probably at least in part due to the pressure of action such as the publication of The Sack of Bath but there is such a huge gap between this and the city overrun with hideous concrete boxes that you might expect from reading the book that it lost a lot of impact for me. Clearly this book was influential in its time and I have no doubt that it did a lot of good, but I didn’t find that it quite worked reading it now.
May 20, 2023
never knew urban planning and conservation would have me feeling so sad.
Fergusson’s strongly worded campaign to defend Bath’s remaining georgian architecture criticises the roles played by the council and other government bodies.
insane that a place like bath would have no protection over its georgian buildings, even if theyre grade I-III listed it still didn’t stop developers.
anti brutalism which makes sense, so it has made me think a bit differently about my favourite type of architecture.
new word learned: ersatz :) makes you wonder what buildings came before these modern replacements that turned out to be so mid.
Fergusson’s strongly worded campaign to defend Bath’s remaining georgian architecture criticises the roles played by the council and other government bodies.
insane that a place like bath would have no protection over its georgian buildings, even if theyre grade I-III listed it still didn’t stop developers.
anti brutalism which makes sense, so it has made me think a bit differently about my favourite type of architecture.
new word learned: ersatz :) makes you wonder what buildings came before these modern replacements that turned out to be so mid.
October 21, 2011
A sad story of the destruction of much of Georgian Bath in the 1960s. The up side is that this book and the protests that engendered and followed it seem to have prevented the city being totally destroyed in the name of modernisation. Full of wonderful photographs.
July 3, 2023
"It is not suggested that in design or construction those buildings fall short of the standards generally prevailing today [...] Neither is it argued that Bath Corporation, its officers and its advisers, in building things of this kind are motivated by anything other than the pursuit of the public good as they see it, repudiate their works as the public may. In Georgian Bath, however, their drive to redevelop has been tragically misplaced [...]"
This was a must-read for me after my move to Bath, and one that has given me an even greater appreciation for the Georgian landscape that I get to enjoy every day. The wealth of photos contained in this seemingly slight polemic, many showing the before and after of the destruction, are worth examining in their own right. Adam Fergusson's writing is a little dramatic and a little high-strung, perhaps even a bit unsympathetic, but rightly so. To think that there could have been a motorway running along the river and a giant tunnel funneling it under the city absolutely makes me shudder; I and every other person who has enjoyed Bath's uniquely beautiful architecture over the past 50 years certainly have this book to be grateful for.
July 12, 2017
An easy-to-read call to arms for the preservation of historic architecture in the Georgian city of Bath.
Although slightly out of date (the book was written in 1973) it provides an interesting perspective on this historic process of preservation, as well as insight into the social pressures that may have led to the preservation of specific buildings (Prior Park Cottages, which I used to live directly across from, comes to mind). With proposed housing developments in the area to address the continuing housing crisis, the book also serves as a warning for the modern reader about the risk of development without considering the unique architectural context of Bath.
Although slightly out of date (the book was written in 1973) it provides an interesting perspective on this historic process of preservation, as well as insight into the social pressures that may have led to the preservation of specific buildings (Prior Park Cottages, which I used to live directly across from, comes to mind). With proposed housing developments in the area to address the continuing housing crisis, the book also serves as a warning for the modern reader about the risk of development without considering the unique architectural context of Bath.
July 11, 2022
I'm going to have to disagree with the author, judging from the pictures. The cruddy-looking artisans' rowhouses that were demolished were not attractive at all. They certainly weren't architectural masterpieces or even great works of craftsmanship. Some of them looked like they fit right into the nastier parts of Dickens' novels. What replaced them didn't look much better, but they weren't any worse. I don't know, maybe it gives upper-class Brits a warm feeling to think that the proles are still stuck living in semi-slummy conditions?
February 27, 2022
Just the right book to read while in Bath, which I am. Today during a open air bus tour I was able to point out all the 1960's and 1970's developments which the author states has desecrated the Georgian character of the city.
December 16, 2011
Brusque and unabashedly polemic...a great work of activism that is fresh even today. I visited Bath in the 1980s and had no idea that the city had been so devastated by urban renewal. Fergusson's introduction does a good job of answering the inevitable question--what happened since the book was first written?
I was struck by this statement: "The destroyers...work from nine to five every day, sitting in comfortable offices, figures and plans and projects at their finger-tips or simply in their minds, and they get paid for what they do. The preservers have to make their own time, usually in the evenings or at weekends when they would prefer to be with their families, acquiring what facts and plans and figures they can get hold of, often finding that action is too late, too difficult, or too expensive; and they have to raise the money for it themselves, organize petitions, and pay for legal and architectural expenses out of their own pockets." Have things really changed?
I was struck by this statement: "The destroyers...work from nine to five every day, sitting in comfortable offices, figures and plans and projects at their finger-tips or simply in their minds, and they get paid for what they do. The preservers have to make their own time, usually in the evenings or at weekends when they would prefer to be with their families, acquiring what facts and plans and figures they can get hold of, often finding that action is too late, too difficult, or too expensive; and they have to raise the money for it themselves, organize petitions, and pay for legal and architectural expenses out of their own pockets." Have things really changed?
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August 25, 2014307.3416 F354 2011
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews