A daringly original, beautifully narrated history of Western architecture and the cultural transformations that it represents. Concrete, marble, steel, brick: little else made by human hands seems as stable, as immutable, as a building. Yet the life of any structure is neither fixed nor timeless. Outliving their original contexts and purposes, buildings are forced to adapt to each succeeding age; to survive, they must become shapeshifters. In a breathtaking refashioning of architectural history, Edward Hollis recounts the most enthralling of these stories of metamorphosis, and shows how buildings embody the history of Western culture. As enchanting as folktales, the narratives move from the “once upon a time” of the initial planning, through the years of ruin and renovation, to the present day and “ever after.” The Parthenon, that epitome of a ruined temple, was for centuries a working church and then a mosque; the cathedral of Notre Dame was “restored” to a design that none of its original makers would have recognized; remains of the Berlin Wall, once gleefully smashed and bulldozed, have become precious relics. Altered layer by layer with each generation, buildings become eloquent chroniclers of the civilizations they’ve witnessed. As The Secret Lives of Buildings brilliantly demonstrates, their stories are what bridge the gulf of history.
Edward Hollis studied Architecture at Cambridge and Edinburgh Universities and practised as an architect in Sri Lanka and Edinburgh. In 1999 he began lecturing at Napier University, Edinburgh and in 2004 he moved to Edinburgh College of Art, where he is Director of Research and Professor of Interior Design. His books include The Secret Lives of Buildings (2009), The Memory Palace: A Book of Lost Interiors (2013) and How to Make a Home (2016).
Centered around 13 different buildings and the history contained therein. The concert of the book is much better than the execution. The author uses a whimsical writing style that I suppose is attempting to pass for prose to indirectly tie together the buildings, cultural and historical stories into a somewhat common thread. I found myself much more interested in the actual story of the buildings (never told) than the meandering thoughts of Hollis about the historical significance and nature of life. Not my cup of tea. I thought David Bryne had much deeper thoughts and better written prose in a very similar vein.
Fun. Hollis guides the reader on a number of journeys through the physical, historical, social, political, mythical and often, neurotic aspects of particular structures. All in all he does a great job of infusing life into these sundry built things. Taking such standbys as the Parthenon and Hagia Sofia (or Ayasofya) and less obvious choices such as a strip of the Berlin Wall, a Vegas Casino, and Mary’s floating granite childhood abode (or abodes as there are fifty iterations apparently), the author mines the history and often quite dramatic transformations/relocations of these constructs over the years. His essays uncritically weave together the “real” and “myth” and hearsay, frequently utilizing reverse chronology to further heighten the ambiguity of these histories. This is mostly fascinating stuff.
Obviously the author’s main point is to expose the “life” of these selections. Their evolutions and re-appropriations trump whatever the original intentions might have been - a much different take than typically offered by architectural histories. Other regular historical texts - those focused on societal, political, economic, religious, etc. issues - tend to eliminate architecture altogether, so this represents a nice fusion of all these things.
I felt his delivery to be well considered. Despite the often zany mythological overlays, Hollis delivers this is an utmost deadpan manner. If I sensed any sarcasm in Hollis’s writing I fear it was more a superimposition of my own cynicism rather than a subtle cheap shot on the part of the author. Whatever levity there is in any given story, this is offered by the documented “facts” themselves. The author skillfully provides the structure and connections, capitalizing on the interesting and the bizarre to make this an enjoyable read!
A book more concerned with sounding clever than imparting knowledge, this feels to me like it was written by someone as a personal goal, rather than because they thought is would be a good book for others to read. Although with the tone throughout, I'm sure there was lots of self-congratulations as it was being written, and I'm sure he thinks it's great. Depsite calling itself the secret life of buildings, the main focus in the book is not on buildings, and most definitely not on history. Despite the notes at the end, I find it hard to believe that much of the content if verifiable fact, despite the way it is presented - it is impossible, I think, to describe the feelings and opinions of long-dead figures with any accuracy, unless they kept very precise diaries, which everyone the book references did not do. A large proportion of the story of each building is just that - a story, written down like an oral telling, and full of embellishments and artistic licence. I don't think think this is suitable for a book presenting itself as history. I also disliked the tone of the writing, which is personal preference, but Goodreads ratings are supposed to be based on enjoyment, so is relevant to note. The overwhelming feeling is one of pomposity, and of someone who I'm sure entertains themselves very much. Included in the Gloucester Cathedral section is some verse, which would be fine, if it were not in its original archaic spelling. Keeping it in this form does nothing beneficial for the reader, it simply makes it more difficult to understand and therefore less enjoyable. The verses written in other sections, originally in Arabic or Greek, have been translated - why is this not? Presumably, it appeals to the author's intellectual vanity - I can think of no other reason. There was also a heavy focus on religion, as opposed to architecture. The architectural jargon was all present, meaning the average reader will have to refer often to a dictionary to understand fully, which I don't object to - if you're opening a book about a subject you are not familiar with, you have to accept that your lack of knowledge will hinder your understanding. What I found more objectionable was the litany of religious terms and highly specific terms, which isn't what I signed up for when picking up a book on the history of some buildings. I understand that a lot of the oldest structures are religious, but I don't think there was a need for it to be so in-depth with regard to the religious backgrounds of the areas, when it is supposed to be a history of the buildings themselves. There is definitely no need for what amounts to almost a full page of the succession of Abbots in charge of Gloucester Cathedral over its life - usually with no more information than their name. This is not interesting, nor is it pertinent. I've given it one star because I hated reading it. I did learn some things, assuming not all of it was fabrication, but I didn't have a good time doing so. I would never read anything written by this author again, and would advise others not to. I'm not sure what to do with the book now, as giving it to a charity shop might inflict it on some other unfortunate soul, but having it on my bookshelf will be an unpleasant reminder. Maybe I'll leave it in the woodpile for kindling - at least then it will finally bring me some joy, by bringing warmth.
Well this is a perfectly fine piece of non fiction. My biggest complaint was the vaulted language. The author's love of architecture and history comes through, but in the end I felt like this book was a little light on details. I wouldn't call it dense. Rather than feeling informed about a fascinating topic, I felt like I got enough of a taste to want to seek out a better book with more information now that I have a broad understanding of the changing role of the buildings in the book. The narrative presents a fascinating concept, and the stories are at times engaging, but I expected a little more meat than I got here.
This book was awful and I honestly did not finish it.
If it is well done, I like historical fiction - like Louis L'Amour. This is something else entirely. It is a creative work that tries too hard in that aspect and that mixes it's "history" right in with it's "art" so you have no way of discerning truth from fiction. It attempts to pass off things as history that are incorrect and and while there are some end notes, they aren't actually noted in text. Marrying history and creativity can be done well; this was not.
very creative way to discuss architecture, author tells stories about them, starting with the parthenon and ending with the new wall in israel. fairly insightful, but to get the fullest out of this you need a good dictionary or knowledge of terms. some especially good chapters on the alhambra, the hulme crescents in manchester, the venetian in las vegas. well shoot, they are all good.
Quite interesting about the buildings, not so interesting about what the author's personal opinions are. The stories are meant to be written in a way that links them together but it didn't seem to work, to me. Architecture is interesting but there wasn't enough about it in here but more about the people who occupied the buildings. I refer the reader to Truth in Advertising legislature......
It’s written nicely but it’s basically anecdotal stories from each of the buildings and there isn’t anything to connect it to? there is no argument or point
This is an extremely cool book, especially for ancient history nerds and people looking to be inspired to travel. Edward Hollis covers thirteen famous buildings, starting with the Parthenon and ending in Vegas, offering a history of how they were used. The theme is the evolution of a building's purpose (and, secondarily, its physical architecture) across cultures, religions, empires, and centuries. The method is telling snippets of history, but just the really interesting parts. The story of the Hagia Sophia was particularly memorable: its purple bellybutton marking the center of the world, its earthquakes & superstitions, doomed kings, and re-inventions from Christian to Muslim to secular museum & World Heritage Site. Although nonfiction, it's a fairly easy read and the chapter format makes it very interrupt-able. However, the introduction was hideous faux-academic sludge - avoid it.
The goal of the text, and overall execution, was fascinating, a study of the history of restoration and recreation of a buildings. However, the chapters dedicated to non-Western architecture and the Western Wall in Israel seemed to be written from such a Western perspective that is what as if no other model could be considered. This dedication to Western models and theories made some of Hollis' arguments frustrating and superficial.
From the Parthenon to the Las Vegas strip, The Secret Lives of Buildings traces the histories of twelve buildings mostly through the lives of some of their inhabitants. Lyrical, and with a rolling sense of history, you're left with the sense that these are only a fraction of the stories that are out there to be told.
The buildings mentioned in this book range in time, as did the commentaries. The main idea I came away with is that buildings are constantly changing as the needs of their users change. Even the act of restoration changes the building from what it evolved into. This is not necessarily good or bad, it just is. The chapter on the Cathedral of Notre Dame was probably the most interesting.
I guess I was hoping for more of a history of the buildings themselves rather than the author's grand project of attempting to interlink all the buildings around the notion of "The Architect's Dream". The book was certainly useful for considering buildings as not static, rather evolving over time and subject to change both in architectural additions and their purposes (e.g. the parthenon). I also enjoyed considering how architecture effects and is affected by events. For example, the modernists' architecture only had the chance to be realised on a grand scale due to WWII and slum clearance producing a great deal of now unutilised city land. If it weren't for these events, would brutalism and other forms of modernist architecture have been actualised on the same scale?
A quote which shifted my perspective and also highlights the loftiness of the writing:
"Any architecture that aspires to completeness will eventually fall into what is, in the terms of its creators, lamentable decay and ruin. / Any architecture, that is, other than that of gardens. There, in the bosom of Natura naturans, it has been permitted to enjoy, rather than defy, the passage of time. At no period was this truer than in the Enlightenment, when Edward Gibbon was inspired to write The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by gazing at the ruins of the Roman Forum, and hearing the Franciscan friars sing the vespers on the site of the temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. His readers, men of taste and learning, would while away the boredom of their summer's ease by building follies, and these whimsical belvederes and ruins displayed precisely the altered states that architecture had traditionally sought to defy. They were, like The Architect's Dream, objects of speculation, miniature simulations of the processes of history, to be viewed from the summit of a colossal column, at a distance, without care." (Hollis, 197-198)
This is very readable, and you learn a lot -- my favourite combination in a non-fiction book. Hollis' book on architectural history takes 13 well known buildings and tells a story about and around each one, each chapter beginning with a clever subtitle and a musing preface.
Take Notre Dame de Paris, for example. It reopened in 2024 after a major fire in 2019. But it wasn't the first restoration. Building the cathedral began back in 1163, and during the French revolution, it was transformed into the temple of Reason over Religion.
In 1864, it was restored under the direction of Viollet-le-Duc who said: "To restore a building is not to preserve it, to repair, or rebuild it; it is to reinstate a condition of completeness that could never have existed at any given time."
To make it look as authentically medieval as possible, he removed things that had been added over the years (like baroque marble and gilding), and replaced things that had been taken away (like statues of angels and kings) during the French Revolution. He had to invent what it should look like.
Another thing I liked about this book is that each chapter is self-contained and the perfect length for bedtime reading. I never fell asleep while reading it, and can attest that no bad dreams can come from a book like this.
More like 3.5 stars, but rounded up because I did enjoy the read.
It was definitely an interesting book! Each chapter was told in a slightly different voice, and some worked better than others. I loved the threads of transformation and utilization woven throughout the whole thing, as it brought the different chapters into one cohesive narrative. It's interesting to think about how (and why) we today focus so much on preservation and restoration, when - as pointed out in the text - these buildings have been around for hundreds, sometimes thousands of years and served multiple different purposes during that time. What "state" we choose to restore a building to is often more a commentary on society at the time of the restoration than any true attempt to save or preserve it. The way we choose to remember buildings is sometimes rooted more deeply in our own desire to present our history to our descendants in a way that makes us look good, and I think that's an important thing to realize.
I must have discovered this title from reading an article on architecture and historic legacies. This was a fascinating read. In thirteen chapters we learn the story of thirteen world heritage sites and some contemporary ones. Buildings are not static, they change or are changed over time. The story of the Parthenon was revealing for me since I was not acquainted with its history during the Dark Ages and the Ottoman Empire. The author also tells us about the transmutations of Hagia Sophia. One fascinating story was the history of Gloucester Cathedral, how it originated from a sculptural tomb and changed by additions done by the long series of bishops who would take charge. At Notre Dame in Paris, the necessity to enlarge and accommodate changes led to a new way of building, what is known as Gothic.
I have no intention of repeating what the publisher said this book was about because it is reproduced on GR, amazon and countless other places. This is not architectural tract, but a meditation, and if you are reading it post the terrible fire that swept through Notre Dame in Paris in 2019 and have followed the discussions around its restoration it should resonate even more.
Buildings are not 'frozen' in time or period they are accumulations of their past. The habit of 'restoring' them to some mythic 'original' state is now happily gone. It is times accumulation that tells a story and what makes Athen's acropolis, stripped of the entirety of its post Periclean history, such a sterile experience.
The Secret Lives of Buildings is an interesting mix of architectural facts and history. My favorite section is about Notre Dame in Paris, having just spend Christmas Eve there in 2017. The mystery and beauty of the current Notre Dame cathedral seem timeless when in fact the structure reflects the best renovation of a centuries old church that had undergone a series of wrong fixes over the ages. Author, Edward Hollis, does a great job describing what has gone right and wrong over decades and sometimes centuries of western civilization when it comes to architecture from England, through Europe to the middle East.
I wanted to like this so much, but the writing and descriptions were repetitious and the "storytelling" was uneven. It felt like Hollis was trying to make each place so magical, but he got caught up in trying too hard to be creative that he missed the mark completely. Non-linear narrative might work fine in fiction, but in nonfiction--especially history--isn't effective at all. For the most part, the chapters were both too short (not enough historical fact) and too long (too much creative nonfiction). Disappointing.
Realmente esto fue una lectura obligatoria de la uni. No me he llegado a leer al 100% el libro, pero hasta lo que leí no me desagradaba. Cuenta las historias de los edificios más emblemáticos, como han cambiado, los procesos que han vivido, como un biografía. No es nada técnico, pero bueno, ya te tiene que gustar los libros de arquitectura, porque es interesante, pero no es una novela. Es narrativa y la cuenta de manera que se comprende bastante bien, sin tecnicismos. Si os gusta la arquitectura y queréis saber más sobre ella, creo que os podría gustar.
An interesting book that was very different than what I expected. Going through the history of so many different structures was both very interesting, he does an excellent job of showing how the idea of a building is/was a fluid concept and it has only been recently that we have tried to lock a building into a specific period or understanding. From what I can tell the history appears to be accurate on a large scale with some liberties taken on the more specific sense.
What a fun book! Hollis provides a fun look at architecture across time by providing short histories of thirteen different structures (two are walls) that are, at least for me, unexpected and fascinating tales of what has happened to them through time. The buildings we think we know, such as the Parthenon and Notre Dame, are not what they were, at least through time. Hollis writes in a most entertaining style. Highly recommended!!
I was astonished by how good this book was. It was recommended to me by my husband who read it a couple of years ago after I gave it to him for a Christmas gift thinking that it looked like something he would like. He then said I really would and should read it, so it has been my upstairs bathroom reading material for awhile now.
This is not a book simply for architecture buffs, though if you are, you will enjoy it. It is also engaging for anyone who enjoys history, art, culture, or just a good story.
One of the main points is that any major building has a history that goes through all sorts of development and change over time, particularly as it encounters various cultures and historical ages. The Parthenon sets the scene, but then there are chapters on, among others, San Marco, Ayasofya, the Alhambra, Notre Dame, the Venetian Las Vegas, and the Western Wall.
Each chapter is told in a different way, with lots of non-linear storytelling, and each builds upon others in often strange and evocative ways.
Along the way he comments on art, culture, religion, politics, economics. Maybe his most profound statements come at the end of the chapter on the Western Wall and how Jerusalem is used and abused by various faith groups.
This book is definitely interesting, but it is also uneven.
A major theme throughout several--but not all--chapters is the idea of "restoration." I think if Hollis had made this an overarching theme, and left out chapters that do not reflect it, he would have had a much stronger book.
Hollis' reflections on restoration focus on the question of how to restore something that has had many forms. Which one can be deemed "the right one"? Would it be the first one? Or the largest/most magnificent? Or should it be the original architects plan (which may never have been completed at all--or may not be known)? Or simply fixing up/preserving the final form? Of course there are no right answers, which he does discuss somewhat in the Notre Dame chapter, as Viollet-le-Duc was criticized strongly for his mid/late 19th century restoration of Notre Dame.
My favorite chapters: The Parthenon, The Basilica of San Marco, Ayasofya, Gloucester Cathedral, Notre Dame, The Hulme Crescents, The Berlin Wall. That's 6 out of 13. I found The Alhambra, Sans Souci, and The Venetian to be the weakest.
Overall, I really enjoyed this book, although I had a couple qualms. Hollis looks at 13 different pieces of architecture and shows how they are not the static, idealized buildings we think of them as, but are dynamically changing throughout history. He makes some very interesting points, and the book is fairly entertaining throughtout. However, as I am not very familiar with architecture, I do think the book would have benefitted greatly from additional illustrations and pictures. Also, Hollis tries connecting the individual stories with some intertwining themes. Yet, occasionally these threads are lost (particularly as he enters into the twentieth century), and it's difficult to tell why he chose to discuss certain topics.
I loved the stories of the (relatively) newer buildings, but the stories about the ancient ones felt too much like fairytales. The tale of Notre Dame is particularly well-written. In fact, I had to read it a few times before I saw how carefully structured and meaningful it was. The Berlin Wall, the Hulme Crescents are also brilliant stories.
It's surprising to read a book about architecture that is so like a book of short stories. Ambitious project, fairly successful, all things considered.
I only liked it, though, because there are a few stories about ancient buildings that still feel more like fable than true life.
Any student knows that the best part of a history class is side tracking your professor by getting them to tell some random obscure little story about the place/time you're studying. This is a book of 13 of those random stories, each which tell the story of a particular place. I've taught Venice, the Parthenon, the Berlin Wall, and yet, this book told me stuff I never knew. As it is 13 separate stories, stopping and coming back to it is possible without losing a narrative thread (as is jumping around, which I did). It's not often I'll recommend history books to non-historians, but I would definitely recommend this one.