The West : from the advent of Christendom to the eve of Reformation by Christopher Tadgell

The West : from the advent of Christendom to the eve of Reformation Reviews

• 
  Sitatunga

  One of a series of seven volumes, covering the whole history of architecture, I have serious reservations about it.
  
  To begin with matters physical: this is a heavy book, a brick of a book, the thickness (2”) yet small dimensions (7 x 8¼” – roughly octavo) combining to make it hard to handle.
  
  But the problem is not just physical. The organisation and format do not make for easy reading. The sheer mass of illustration and associated captioning occupies most of the space, indeed the captions in particular are so extensive as to create a whole separate narrative alongside the main text. So, you have in effect two narratives, running side-by-side, throughout the book.
  
  Add to all this is the difficulty posed by the illustrations themselves, which are numbered, not in a simple numerical sequence but rather in groups, such that each building or subject illustrated has a bunch of illustrations keyed to it, numbered alphabetically (thus 1a, 1b, &c) but not necessarily arranged on the page in that order, i.e. the numbers (a,b,c, &c) are not always followed in the layout. And those numbers – they’re tiny! You need a magnifying-glass.
  
  Of the 900+ pages perhaps only 200-300 are given to textual narrative; the result is that you face a choice: either leaf through at speed, ignoring the illustrations (difficult, holding the heavy book and turning the often whole blocks of illustrations) – or else try to absorb both at once and sink into a quagmire.
  
  In sum, the combination of these factors create a bizarre and uncomfortable reading experience.
  
  But there is a far more significant, pernicious problem. One of the subject matter itself. Trying to cover the whole medieval period, including its outer ends – the Dark Ages at one and the High Renaissance the other (not just the start of the Renaissance, you understand) – with, in addition, the diversions on Islam, on castles, on Russia, and a huge chunk of the book – possibly a third - on the purely secular legacy – is an impossible task. The result is inevitably a thinly wrought tissue stretched over a vast, unmanageable subject.
  
  Lest it be forgot, this is just one of seven whole volumes in a series that purports to cover the whole history of architecture (whatever that means).
  
  Now this is not to say Mr Tadgell doesn’t know his stuff – the text is informed and informative, thoughtful and often original .. but this acuity is brought to bear on so vast a mountain of subject matter, literally weaving its way in and out of the photos, now in the text, now in the captions, that one is left discombobulated.
  
  The basic idea, as given in the series title - ‘Architecture in Context’ - is in any case flawed. We have to wade through these ‘contextualising’ chapters before we get to the actual buildings. Thus the history of the Merovingians, Carolingians, Salians, Ottonians are deemed essential to the story of Romanesque. Were this a book just on that period, fine, but to have half the book thrown away to historical background when there is so vast a time period to cover - and so much space is lost to imagery and captions - is plainly ridiculous.
  
  How one longs for Sir George Summerson, with his lucidly smooth and learned narrative (the learning lightly worn!), judicious choice of illustration, sensible, economical captions clearly linked to text (see, for example, his Architecture in Britain 1530-1830 ). Instead, we have this staccato, stop-go melange of text, imagery and caption, with digressions here and everywhere into non-essential territory, stretching what is already an overlong reach in time and place.
  
  In sum, I cannot recommend this book other than as a curiosity. It belongs on the rogues’ shelf, to wit, James Curl, Ken Allison and, above all, Hans Hofstätter (info on these on request). And one might add, the Phaidon Editors, with their so-called 'Atlas of Brutalism', talking of which, he might have done better to follow the example of John Julius Norwich and his massive ‘atlas’ (it is a sort of atlas BTW), which is altogether less ambitious and pretentious. For pretentious, my friends, is just what this book – or series – is.
  
  I mean, attempting to write a whole history of world architecture - all by himself. Come on!