For a book with a lot of interesting pieces, it's not particularly good as a whole. I found myself disagreeing with the author more and more as I continued, and then totally turned off by the end.
Quite simply, he didn't come close to making me agree with his premise -- to the extent he even had one -- that the modern city is built for transit and therefore turns people away from each other. I shouldn't say that I disagree with his premise, but rather that his examples didn't hold up and were not explained well. And I saw no coherence between the cities that he chose to use for his illustrations, especially when he picked the novel "Howard's End" as an example of some sort of alienation of the city that is solved when people live in close quarters and have disagreements with each other. The last sections of the book are by far the weakest.
Well, what did I like? I love Rome and Roman history, so that section was very good. He described places I've been, such as the Forum, and gave me greater depth of understanding about what was done there and why, and how people used the space. He did a good job on how a wealthy Roman lived at home as well. To a lesser extent, I got an understanding about both homes and public places in ancient Greece as well. I liked how he contrasted the use of space in Greece to bring people together in a democracy -- an amphitheater where they could hear a speaker and could all be seen when they voted -- and how that started out the same in Rome but was gradually whittled away as the empire became more autocratic.
The discussion of how a church is designed somewhat like a human body lying down was interesting as well. We know of the shape as recalling the cross on which Christ was killed, but this alternative idea is pretty interesting, and the author linked it to the hierarchy of church, state leaders, and other citizens.
But some of the leaps he tried to make just didn't work for me. I didn't write them down in detail, so this is a paraphrase that might not do full justice to his thinking. One was about how Christians were wanderers, like the Jews who were their forerunners, and that was a point of pride. They were not "of" a place, but "of" a belief system. But then when a Roman emperor converted, somehow Christians needed Rome to center their religion. The paradox was not well explained.
Similarly, there's a long chapter on the Jewish ghetto in Venice. The phenomenon that it was is worth discussing, as it was a cruel and radical reaction to the presence of others. The author doesn't do a particularly good job of showing why Jews were singled out in a city that had so much international traffic, and which based its wealth on the trade they brought. But regardless, the ghetto existed. For a couple of centuries, Jews were restricted at night to one part of one island in Venice (and a couple of outlying neighborhoods). They were literally locked in. But this author seems tone-deaf to the impact. He said it was good for Jews because it brought them closer together and allowed their culture to flourish. Hey, it already was flourishing there, as evidenced by the very few conversions to Catholicism that were recorded. And the author takes at face value the order that after the Jews were locked-in, they were charged for two night guards "to protect them," as if this wasn't a cynical political statement worthy of today's Republican Party on election reform. That statement was a lie, a further pouring of salt into a mortal wound. But this author thinks it was actually a good idea --- until he then says, uh, well whenever the mob got angry it could break in and destroy the ghetto anyway.
Near the end of the book, the author writes about his beloved Greenwich Village in NYC, where he apparently moved as a young professor. He describes the halycon days in the 1960s when folkies sang in Washington Square and things were at peace, at least on the surface. But at the same time he complains that people only cohabitated near each other, but didn't interact. As a person who lived in New York, I find this simply not true. Is everyone getting together for communal dinners? Of course not. But people interact while also going about their own lives. The author says that this seeing isn't good enough (he complains about Paris cafes with tables outside so you can see people walk by, because he thinks that watching people isn't good enough; you should be talking to them). But what's to lament about seeing people and having small interactions?
The author points out over and over that society has shifted to placing greater value on individualism. He claims that as national leaders saw the value of individualism rising, they made cities less accommodating for meeting, because it wasn't valued by the people, and because they feared the rise of the mob when people did meet. This was apparently the lesson of the French Revolution.
But I think he severely overstates. From what we know about Greece and Rome, individuals were celebrated. It was maybe the first time that civilizations had enough excess food and resources so that people could focus on their individuality as artists, poets, or just enjoying the leisure of public baths. The problem was that those individuals did it on the backs of the other 90% of the population, which was not a sustainable system.
Then Christianity comes along and tells everyone they have a relationship, a covenant with God. Individualism rises again -- ironically, given that the Church itself was all about giving up your individualism. And so on. Anyway, the author says that individualism is a bad thing, that much of what was good about ancient society was lost. He even says that central heating, as launched by Ben Franklin's stove in the 1740s, was a bad thing because people could be comfortable in their homes and didn't have to go out as much. Why is going out with other people better? Why is living in a ghetto better? Or living in squalor in Edwardian England, while the rich class lives in luxury?
The author ignores the gains, or underestimates the importance of them in pining for a time when, allegedly, people congregated to decide affairs, to share work, and to play. But I contend that we're just as able to do that now as in the past, but with the added benefit that we don't have to do it, that we can retreat to quiet and comfort, but venture out only when we wish.
One more complaint. Every example he uses is European. We have no idea if cultures in Asia, Africa, or the Tribal Nations of North America did things the same way. This author apparently doesn't think those are worth his study and analysis. I guarantee if he was writing the book in 2021, he wouldn't make this omission.
In short, this book does a pretty good job describing how rulers and citizens interacted in ancient Greece and Rome, and then in through the Early Middle Ages. But his big claims about what those interactions represent about that world, and how they are lost in ours, fall flat.