There seems to be an irony to this book, to the fact that it mostly follows the trail of the commodified debris that the Situationists left behind after the group disbanded. The book is organized in chapters discussing one by one the books, films, and journals that emerged from Situationist actors after 1972. Perhaps it is too much to ask it to be any other way. After all, Wark was not a conspirator running alongside these actors: he talks in hindsight and in hindsight, only print and video seems to last.
Yet Wark must know perfectly well that history is not made at the Press Conference, but before it. As such, Wark recounts the recounting of history, the official, polished version of it. Moreover we are talking here mainly of a man, Guy Debord, who has done all he can to thwart any easy attempts at biography or - the horror! - hagiography. Debord is the man who famously boasted that while he wrote less than other writers wrote, he drank much more than other drinkers drink! Debord, who also boasted that his best work was only two words long: never work.
I think part of why Debord took down the Situationist banner was precisely because he didn't want his life's work to be diminished into an easy narrative. Writing as a Situationist means being judged on all that the group had stated already. Debord, I think, wanted the freedom to contradict himself, because he knew things were complicated. I am thinking here of what Dylan said when confronted by journalists with his shifting political allegiances: "Who'd ever said I was sincere!?" That, better than anything, sums up Debord and his Situationists. Therefore the most important takeaway from this book is the point that Debord was not a philosopher but a strategist: he tried to work "situations" in such a way that they might do some good, that they might dispel or alleviate at least a little bit, the spectacle that surrounds us.