Flesh and Stone is a patchy, impressionistic detour of historical snapshots related to the concepts of city and place. It is structured into chapters about particular locations in particular eras, meaning that it leaps from city to city between chapters. This means that the book is somewhat discontinuous by design: this manner of presentation may have its charms, but its drawback is that every chapter must start over from the background of the subject of that chapter. While you won't get a sense of smoothly continuous accumulation of narrative detail, as with more clearly focused historical works, you do get some degree of thematic cross-referencing. Still, in my opinion there could've been more attempt to unify the work; as it stands, the experience of having to repeatedly re-insert yourself to every chapter from the beginning in terms of the necessary factual background makes the experience of reading this draining at times.
My quibbling with the format is not to imply that I would recommend against reading it even if in addition to the form, one could say that the argumentative content of the book is somewhat lax, as some reviewers have pointed out. This is a fair assessment but despite it I found some interesting information in this book as well. If one is left unpersuaded about some of the broader brush-strokes Sennett makes here, he does nonetheless manage to bring forward an array of highly intriguing facts which can be incorporated to the reader's knowledge base with fruitful results. The issue of over-fitting always looms large with historical works focusing on a specific theme and issues like whether some of the artworks he presents in support of his views are as emblematic as he claims are left for the reader to estimate in terms of his existing interpretive framework.
Flesh and Stone is concerned with how crowds relate to each other in urban spaces. Sennett does often diverge from urbanism to explorations of particular objects or symbolisms in a somewhat freewheeling fashion but basically the work always returns to the idea of urban planning. He strongly associates urban constructions with scientific conceptions of the human body during the era at hand, though there are exceptions such as the chaotic nature of the medieval city that reflected moreso the near-anarchic explosion of commerce during that era. While the book may lack a clear central thesis, as some reviewers noted, a hidden theme emerges from the comparison between the medieval age city and the examples surrounding it temporally. It provides a strikingly impressionistic view on the development of European civilization as a chaotic process that was, in Thomas Hobbes' words, nasty and brutish, if not that short. The cloistral serenity of melancholy stands in symbiosis with the crime-ridden streets of commercial cities, seemingly in state of a constant haggle for rights of territory. Roman advances in sanitary engineering were tragically forgotten, in defiance of the concept of linear historical or technological progress. One can't help but think of Bertrand Russell's idea that the neatness and even fastidiousness typical of medieval philosophy was an understandable response to disorderly and forbidding states of affairs. Order and anarchy intermingle with productive results.
The contrast between the Romans and the Greeks, while not as striking, is also insightful. For starters, it is noteworthy that Greeks did not enjoy public displays of death, executions were not public spectacles and they had a particular horror of the dead based on a notion of ghosts. This is markedly different from the Romans famous for gladiator spectacles that apparently involved obsessive repetitions of mythic themes; something to keep in mind upon a reading of Ovid's Metamorphoses, perhaps. This tendency continued to medieval era where corpses could be found littering the streets of the chaotic cities and public executions were common-place. While people often make a big fuss out of the bloodbaths of the French Revolution, they seem to have been noteworthy more on account of a kind of rationalization and mechanization of death with painless, scientific instrument like guillotine, in contrast to performative tortures common in the kingdom of France.
Generally, Romans' world-view struck me as somewhat gloomier than that of the Greeks': while Greeks thought of strength as a positive quality of body heat lacking in females and people that stay indoors, leading to a kind of cult of openness and transparency even in voting, Sennett associates Roman conception of strength with the idea of gravitas, with all its weighty connotations. Greeks were highly concerned with the use of human voice while Romans invented elaborate gestural patterns to convey everything from rank to intention; Romans obsessed over repetitive geometrical patterns and actively wished to imprint that model on the areas they conquered, while Greeks advocated for clear, visible open, exposed characteristics and conquered more for slaves and resources without any question of making the conquered people "Athenians". Romans seemingly had more of a knack for interior design based on the bilateral body plan of humans and on a hierarchical idea of "command to look": this was repeated in the plans of the city. It was as if Romans were obsessed with repeating and reproducing abstractions: metaphorical myths repeatedly enacted in Gladiator arenas, repeated series of gestures, repeating city plan imprinted on all conquered land. Sennett points out that Romans saw the world as a kind of teatrum mundum, that is, a worldly theatre of performances and lay-outs; a veritable universe of signs which aligns with the increased emphasis put on fortune by Romans.
Greek cult of the body heat seemed to have given way to something much more cool and calculated: is it too much to suggest that Greeks would have considered Roman habits as effeminate? It is interesting that while in some respects Roman society became more cruel with its gladiator performances, it was actually somewhat less hierarchical than an Athenian polis in that slaves had possibilities of advancing in society and women's position was much improved. A related distinction may be helpful in elucidating this: Greeks' horror of the underworld was seemingly transformed from the realm of obscure mystery cults to a veritable centre of Roman metaphysics, seeing as they propitiated a conquest of a city by digging a pit representing a passage to the underworld to the centre of the city layout and by gifting food to the chthonic gods. This ritual was inheritance from Etruscan times where women enjoyed much better status than in Greece. It was surprising to me that this was so central, another one of their obsessive repetitions: but the focus on the chthonic might serve to explain the slightly more mysterious and colder focus on signs and facades when compared with the sun-loving openness of an Athenian citizen. The straightforward, vitalist honour morality of Greek society, where intellectual culture evolved as a tangent of wrestling, was replaced with interpretation and repetition, emphasizing cognitive ideals over the heat of the dialectic. Geometry was a magical formula to be repeated and re-encountered, not a physically heated discovery: obsession with clear structure co-existed with a more lax hierarchy (illicit children could become citizens in Rome) and increasingly ritualized cruelty - not as sacrifice to venerable spirits, but as a mythical theme made real in the context of performance.
Described this way, the continuum between Romans and Christians does not appear quite as abyssal as it does when it leads to Nietzsche's formulation of Christianity relating to whatever is "of the lowest orders, the underworld of the ancient world". We see that he is thinking about Christianity in relation to how it would have seemed to Athenian polis in its golden age but with Romans, the underworld is already a central, respected part of the cult. In many ways, the clear hierarchy of Greece has weakened and even children of mothers are admitted as citizens while in a Greek polis they would have been slaves. Nonetheless, Christianity arises as a counter-reaction to Roman values precisely in its denial of everything that is teatrum mundi: apparently Romans raised the esoteric gesticulations and significations to such a pitch of inanity that even many well-off Romans got tired of all this curiositas. In place of a plurality of signs, Christianity recommends light, a condition of all seeing: this happens through the alien body of Christ whose experience can only be approximated through sensations approximating nothingness. It seems that the Nietzschean assignation of nihilism to Christianity finds a closer correlate in the early Christianity: this is also interesting because nihilism entered European discourse out of left-field, from Russian tradition, based on Orthodox thought that possibly clung closer to this idea (considering some Orthodox critiques of Thomas à Kempis' work) in comparison with the later European medieval idea of Imitation of Christ which completely reverses the idea of Christ as an alien body, something that was crucial in differentiating Christianity from, for example, cults of Osiris. The idea of nihilism as something around which we must build discourse could be a radical return of a seed of original Christianity: and parts of Nietzsche's Antichrist could even be read as affirmations of Catholicism over Orthodox Christianity.
With the imperialization of Christianity, Sennett notes that Christ became dualized between Christ The King and Christ the Martyr, latter of whom had a separate place of worship, martyrium. Catholicism developed in tandem with the development of commerce-based cities in Europe, offering a framework for settling disputes and upholding contracts. Sennett focuses on the rise of the movement of Affective Piety as well as Imitation of Christ - these may be interpreted as reactions to the excessive thoughtlessness and brutality of the world controlled by combative economy and warring feudal lords, with little of the imperial cohesion that persisted in Byzantine Empire. One gets the sense that Europe was abandoned to the forces of Chaos. The idea of Imitation of Christ, and the sentimentalism that came along with it, seems like a natural extension to the melancholic contemplation at cloisters. The valorisation of simplicity and poverty by the likes of St. Francis of Assisi made a powerful counter-point against pretentiousness and curiositas but they also seem to commit the heresy of attempting to imitate an alien body, Godly body, incomprehensible to us. How could we say that our experience of poverty is the same thing which the embodiment of God experienced? Could our chosen stances and positions really begin to compare? And how could we imitate Christ when none of our actions can absolve the sins of humankind, rendering them massively pathetic in comparison?
The Franciscan pose ends up faced with an admission of its own pretence but that does not stop it from being massively influential to the concept of pity which became important to medieval body politic. Sennett observes that medieval doctors conceived of pity based on the practice of surgery where the flow of blood to wounded organs metaphorically implied reactions of pity on part of the other organs. Developed further in Enlightenment by circulatory body politics of economic science, this idea nonetheless showed the influence of commercial activity in medieval society. It was a far cry from Galen's concept of pity as a sick state corresponding to black bile, an obvious influence on Nietzsche's criticisms. Indeed, if Romans displayed signs of nocturnal morbidity and loosening of hierarchies, how much more so the medieval city that was comprised by the types of people that would never have gotten citizenship status in an Athenian polis: merchants and laborers. The feudal lords were consigned to the rural areas like slaves and the urban environment, so venerated by the Athenians as a proper healthy way of being in touch with other men of leisure, was instead a chaotic pigswill full of ONLY rejects. This environment by itself was pitiless and the reaction of the Franciscans was empathy, caritas. Christianity functioned on one hand through performances of charity and zones of grace such as cloisters but on the other hand it established itself as a managerial-bureaucratic body that controlled the economic chaos and rising guilds through legal frameworks.
Guilds were established quickly after people realised free market does not work, a fact whose forgetting in today's rhetoric marks a civilisational lapse on the level of the decline of sanitation. Sennett observes that there were even standardized bread loaves, sometimes considered to be exclusive to the horrors of modern EU technocracy. The beginning of modern politics is tied to a deepening bureucratization of guilds to the point that they rival the church: once guilds are set up, you end up needing an internal body that makes sure that everyone plays by the rules and this level of activity already becomes one level removed from pure economic association, establishing a political logic. Sennett shows how the chaotic forces of economics destabilize the legal assumptions of space and time: labour chops up time to discrete units detached from either celestial observations or biblical narrativity; economic pursuit destabilizes the fixity of "place" to the neutrality of abstract space that was subject to violent changes in the tussle of economic pursuit and negotiation.
The time period preceding French Revolution saw a return to Roman chthonic metaphysics with a re-establishment of sewers and a greater emphasis on clean, geometrical city structures. Glorious Revolution saw nobles re-asserting themselves against the Catholics via constitutionalism and Montesquieu, a noble, invented the idea of separation of powers to militate against the kings and masses. This pattern was also latched on to by organizations that developed from earlier guilds like Freemasons in the French Revolution so that in the history of the West we have a kind of slight alliance of metics and nobles against the slaves that kickstarted liberalism. At this point the nonsensical ideas of hidden hand start being pushed upon the slave populace that becomes cut off from even understanding what is going on. Free market becomes conceived as autonomous and body-politic turns masturbatory in a Rousseauian sense: market becomes a field of individualization through specialization, distinct from the legal idea of the individual. Female idols are re-instated to signify a combination of nurture and authority that cannot be argued against it rationally: another Hellenic return to cults of Ceres and Athena, to glorification of what is pushed underground, to the logic of sewers. Sennett pays attention to the strange fact that milk, suddenly, becomes hugely important, not least due to Rousseau's propaganda of Sophie's Primitive Titty in opposition to Juliette-like perversions of Marie-Antoinette: this can easily be interpreted as the educational infantilization of a populace. "I only know that I know nothing".
Hellenic slave society reinstated through obscurity, the world turns drab and colourless, as Sennett notes with his observations of the near-industrialized nature of guillotines and the drab vacuums of the famous paintings of the sacrificial victims of that era. The book gets vastly less interesting the more modern it gets but connecting the dots, it is easy to find here more evidence of the Hellenic character of the modern world, in an inverted form, with many twists. Perhaps one of the most useful connections that can be found here is that empathy, the heretical Imitation of Christ, is a reaction against the dominance of those who never counted for citizens in Greece.