Gustave Eiffel is most remembered today for the iconic iron lattice tower he built as the gateway to the 1889 World’s Fair. Eiffel, of course, also built the interior framework of the Statue of Liberty. You probably know this, but not much else about the turn of the century engineering genius who designed complex structures (bridges, monuments, lighthouses) all around the world.
Eiffel had originally planned to build his tower in Barcelona. When his design for the 1888 Universal Exposition was rejected by Spain, Eiffel resubmitted his tower for the 1889 Fair, and it was quickly accepted by his fellow countrymen. (One of the competing designs for Paris was an enormous guillotine.) Eiffel was already a famous engineer by then, having completed several challenging bridge projects, but his plan for the Fair was not universally popular.
At 300 meters, Eiffel’s tower would be the world’s tallest manmade structure, and despite the engineer’s vast experience, many believed the tower couldn’t possibly withstand the force of the wind. Residents also feared the tower would act as a giant lightning rod or that it might somehow alter local weather patterns. Others viewed the tower design merely as an eyesore. Guy de Maupassant was a particularly vocal critic.
When debate continued well into Eiffel’s planned construction schedule, he finally decided to finance much of the cost of the tower himself. He was granted a lease from the city of Paris and planned to recoup his investment by charging admission to the tower. Even so, this was an immense gamble for Eiffel. His lease was scheduled to expire after 20 years (in 1909) and then he would be responsible for tearing down and removing the structure. Under intense pressure, building a structure of unprecedented size and complexity, Eiffel completed the tower in an astounding 22 months, delivering it just in time for the opening of the Fair.
Jonnes’ book covers other aspects of the 1889 Fair—Buffalo Bill’s extremely popular Wild West exhibition, Edison’s Hall of Machines, an eccentric newspaper mogul, and any number of temperamental artists—but Eiffel’s tower is the centerpiece of her account. When the tower is completed, a mere 88 pages into the 330 page book, Jonnes’ story loses much of its momentum, degenerating for a while to a who’s-who chronicling of the many celebrities that came to climb the tower and clap Eiffel firmly on the back. After the Fair, the book picks up somewhat.
Eiffel never topped the feat of building his tower. After becoming embroiled in France’s disastrous Panama Canal project and even serving some jail time, Eiffel seems to have lost much of the vigor that had characterized his earlier career. And so, he dawdled in the shadow of his greatest creation. Paris agreed to extend Eiffel’s lease by five years, and for a while, the tower became his personal science lab. He built a wind tunnel at the base, eventually making some important contributions to the understanding of wind resistance. With the arrival of WWI, the French government recognized the usefulness of the tower for military observation and radio broadcasting, and the future of Eiffel’s creation was finally secure.
If fate hadn’t intervened in the form of a family squabble, Eiffel might have taken over his uncle’s vinegar distillery in Dijon. Rather than building bridges and monuments, Eiffel might have revolutionized the vinegar industry, conceivably, replicating for the palate what a tourist strolling through the Champ de Mars experiences when gazing up at Eiffel’s tower. Yes, this would mean immense loses for the fields of structural engineering and architecture—the Paris skyline. On the other hand, vinegar can be bottled.