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The Architecture of Happiness
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The Architecture of Happiness
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The Architecture of Happiness
Audiobook4 hours

The Architecture of Happiness

Written by Alain de Botton

Narrated by Simon Vance

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

3.5/5

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Currently unavailable

Currently unavailable

About this audiobook

The Architecture of Happiness is a dazzling journey through the philosophy and psychology of architecture and the indelible connection between our identities and our locations.

One of the great but often unmentioned causes of both happiness and misery is the quality of our environment: the kinds of walls, chairs, buildings, and streets that surround us. And yet, a concern for architecture is too often described as frivolous, even self-indulgent. Alain de Botton starts from the idea that where we are heavily influences who we can be, and argues that it is architecture's task to stand as an eloquent reminder of our full potential.

Editor's Note

Space & happiness...

It's no secret: space, from design to decor, has an effect on psychology. Here, insightful musings on how architectural choices are ultimately about happiness.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 25, 2009
ISBN9781433222931
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The Architecture of Happiness
Author

Alain de Botton

Alain de Botton is the author of a number of books that try to throw light on the big challenges of our lives. His books have been sold in thirty-five countries and many have been international bestsellers, including How Proust Can Change Your Life, Essays in Love and The Art of Travel. He is the founder of two social enterprises, the first promoting architecture, Living Architecture, which gets top architects to build holiday homes for rental by everyone. The second enterprise is The School of Life.

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Reviews for The Architecture of Happiness

Rating: 3.6537355971264365 out of 5 stars
3.5/5

348 ratings29 reviews

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  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This book asks a question that has interested me for a long time -- what makes some buildings beautiful? Unfortunately, the author does not provide much in the way of answers. He does discuss some interesting ideas, notably the fact that ideas of beauty in architecture change over time. But he passes over this to go on to more timeless issues -- balance, elegance, etc. It all sounds very nice -- Mr. De Botton's prose in unfailingly elegant, sometimes irritatingly so. It just doesn't add up to much.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I enjoyed reading the book: de Botton is an insightful and skilled writer. His style tends to be somewhat uniform: articulate, careful, always bordering on fussiness and pretentiousness. His range of reference is truly impressive. I hoped to learn more about architecture from this book, but it's more a meditation on aesthetic principles than a study of architecture as such. A good book, but not a really memorable one.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This is the third of De Botton's books that I have read. I enjoyed 'The Consolations of Philosophy', as it taught me a lot about the history of philosophy and about some of its prime movers. De Botton kept himself out of the text as much as possible, and let the philosophers' words shine on their own.Then I had my first real meeting with Proust, in 'How Proust Can Change Your Life'. Again, it was not De Botton's writing that most impressed me, although it was good in its own way. De Botton proved a most capable gatekeeper to a writing talent I hope to enjoy some other time, but who was extremely able to express his ideas himself.Finally, I have experienced what De Botton can do when he writes something truly his own, about people who certainly communicate a lot to the world, but who generally do it nonverbally - architects.De Botton examines what it is to build, and to build beautifully. He looks to philosophy to provide answers to the questions that drive architectural fashions, and offers some insights into why beautiful buildings are beautiful and ugly ones so overwhelmingly ugly. He writes lucidly and with a personal touch that makes his essay seem almost conversational at times.This is without a doubt the best book I have read about architecture; I learnt a lot that I am sure soon to forget, so this book will keep its place on my shelf for years and years, always ready to remind me of the secrets of the four walls around me.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    While I can't say that architecture is *always* meant to balance the current terrors of society, I do think de Botton is right that this is a large part of art movements. He also gives a bit of a primer on the basic art principles (balance, coherence) that are applied to architecture, and he gives many great examples with actually useful pictures. I think "close readings" of a few buildings and some more examples of the forces that motivate cross-cultural architecture would be all I would add to this book. It is very lovingly written and the language is a pleasure.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    a definitive reading for architecture student / enthusiast. detailed perspective about architecture around us, with witty humour and philosophical language
  • Rating: 1 out of 5 stars
    1/5
    I was expecting something else about this book. I thought that it will show me more concepts about ho whappiness is understood, but it was another kind of essay.In this book, De Botton shows us how he thinks the constructions or buildings that surrounds us can influence our animic state. This is interesting, but sometimes I felt a little tired reading this author.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Why do we like some buildings and loathe others? How much impact does architecture have on our mental and physical well being? Turns out we are surprisingly vulnerable to the aesthetics of our surroundings. The author explores this less tangible aspect of the built environment and provides an excellent dicussion on the nature of aesthetics.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Like many others, I learned of this book by watching the film 500 Days of Summer. The movie made such a distinct impression on me that I felt I had no choice but to read the book the protagonist gave to his love. Why this book? Why not something romantic?The simple answer is that this book is incredibly romantic, just not in the cliche way I was looking for. In the opening pages, de Botton expounds on the idea that one must feel the ever-so-memorable cocktail of pain, loss, and heartbreak to ever be moved by art. I can understand this. For as long as I have been alive, I have had artistic sympathies but no particular appreciation of any art other than music and writing. Visual mediums just did nothing for me. I could understand the mechanics of a pretty picture and could aspire to create such things myself, but was never able to attach any sort of significant feeling or understanding to them.A couple of years ago, I hit a low point in my life. I was depressed and hollow and pain seemed to be sewn into my shadow. For the first time in my life, I had a desire to visit an art exhibit. So I gathered up my pre-teen brother and we headed out for the art museum one Sunday morning. Much to my surprise, I was moved by color. I found empathy and clarity in the various shades of reds and blues that made up, oddly enough, the somber religious paintings depicting angels in their various earthly activities. Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I am not a religious person and that I appreciate the concept of angels no more than, say, the NRA. But here I was, downtrodden and broken, finding these winged cherubs beautiful. The selection of this book for use in the film was brilliant and probably more thought out than any other book used as a prop in the entire history of film (excluding, of course, all the films I have not seen; which is, thankfully, most of them).But why architecture, Mr. de Botton? This, I'm not sure of. Most of the author's musings seemed to me to apply to art in general, not specifically to architecture. But I forgive him for that. He had to pick something to draw specific examples from, otherwise he would have ended up with an exponentially larger book (which neither of us wanted). Still, I would have liked to walk away from this book with some knowledge of what makes buildings great. Or bad. And I haven't. I now know a couple of traits that make classical and gothic architecture distinct, but that's it. de Botton focuses more on the philosophical aspects of this art and less on the practicalities. Which is okay, but a bit misleading.Of course, he did the same thing when discussing specific architectural ideas. He talked about the Japanese and the cultural influences present in their buildings. And, while he compared them briefly to the Dutch, he sort of left it at that with no points for comparison. I don't know how regional differences vary between geographical areas because he just went on about the Japanese. Which, again, is fine since he had to write specifically about something and Japan's as good a something as any. Unfortunately, I have no great interest in Japan so he lost me for a stretch.At the very end of the book, de Botton discusses probably the most profound idea in the work, that art gives us confidence to feel our own feelings. We may have an inherent preference for cracked concrete or itchy wool, but until others say that those things are good, we are fearful of openly embracing these things. Art is the perfect medium for exploring ourselves. Seeing an ornate cathedral or a fruit bowl still life can give us something to identify with and can go lengths to make us feel okay with who we are.My chief complaint about this book is that half of it is filled with uninspiring photos. Nothing made my jaw drop and few of them were necessary for comprehension. I wish more thought would have gone into the selection of a few good images, rather than filling the book with what seemed good at the time. I wanted to feel something when I got all fired up by de Botton's words, but, visually, he gave me nothing and all that energy was wasted on staring at the pattern on my bedspread.This was a rather good book, three-and-a-half stars, I think. Definitely more than three, but not quite four.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Summary: Alain de Botton explores the effect of architecture on the human condition: how it inspires us, how it enforces our ideals of beauty, and how it reflects our culture and our desires.Review: My sister, who is starting her studies in architecture at the University of Toronto, bought this book to prepare herself. One day I had nothing to read, so she lent me her copy. It’s a slim book but it packs a lot of ideas, and it doesn’t hurt that de Botton is an elegiac, poetic writer, capable of squeezing poignancy even into the most mundane sentences. I mean it: this is a man who could write about eating toast and I would lap it all up.His suggestions about architecture are interesting. I don’t know much about the subject so I can’t offer an educated opinion, but I thought he did a good job of exploring the connection between architecture and human wants and fears. It’s also good that there are photos to accompany his writing so that I can see what he means — some of the pictures took my breath away.However, one niggling feeling ate at me the entire time I was reading. De Botton comes across as obviously a white man. I have nothing against white men writing books, but when he’s discussing the universals of architecture or the human condition but he really means Western architecture and society, it bothers me. He talks about how humans all want democracy and classical ideals and things like that, which is only a limited view of humanity. Yes, he mentions briefly Japanese architecture and culture, but not much and a bit on Japan is hardly encompassing all non-Western cultures (as an Asian I get annoyed when Japan is always presented to the West as the model Asian nation, but that's another rant entirely). I don’t mind that he focuses on Western culture. I just wish he would clarify that more often rather than assume that the West is default. Also, he tends to revert to male as default when talking about people whose gender are unknown. This is a pet peeve. Others might not mind it but it is like nails on a chalkboard for me.Conclusion: A pretty book about a subject I was eager to learn more about. Ticks off a few of my race and gender buttons, but overall a good read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    In this comprehensive and heavily illustrated essay, de Botton retraces the history of architecture, the motivations and standards of beauty that have ruled our buildings and the human aspects that make a building appealing or not. It is a superficial account which nonetheless covers much ground. Written simply, it is fun and easy with many concrete examples. Not for an architecture student, but an agreeable introduction for the layman. I have certainly started giving more careful attention to my environment and its influences.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This short book covers the theory of the insubstantial things which make architecture beautiful. It is somewhat interesting but tends to repeat itself and is not so useful for architects.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A beautifully philosophical perspective of architecture. The ideas are compelling, whether or not you agree with them. You will look at buildings differently than before.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Alain de Botton is a cute, smart guy with a nice family, well-lived-in house in London, and (apparently) a nice family. His earlier books were well received, although I haven't yet finished reading Proust (he wrote "How Proust Can Change Your Life") and can't personally testify as to the results. In this book, he does an excellent job of dissecting spaces, then presenting historic examples side-by-side with modern examples. Unlike most books, the illustrations actually fit with the text. Bravo, Alain! Some co-workers didn't finish it, and if I couldn't get through "Proust", I can't blame them for this short but thick philosophical work. It requires real effort.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    We are influenced in different ways. Architecture & design of space can change our view of ourselves & our world.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Having bought the book on the strength of a witty interview, I was disappointed by this meandering work. The title poses an interesting question. How can buildings help us feeling better? De Botton's short, depressing and unhelpful answer seems to be: They can't.Curiously, De Botton sides with Le Corbusier when the famous Swiss architect is repeatedly implored by his clients to fix a leaking roof. The beauty of the building, the Villa Savoye, is more important to both De Botton and Le Corbusier than the well-being of its inhabitants. What use is a beautiful building if it hurts its inhabitants? The neglect of a building's function may be typical for an uncaring philosopher but does not help answering the title question.Even if De Botton's criteria (order, balance, elegance, coherence, self-knowledge) are only aesthetic, his analysis remains flawed by a muddled understanding of the terms. He contrasts "order" with "complexity" whereas the correct pairing is order-chaos and simplicity-complexity. His false pairing leads him to strange, arbitrary conclusions, which a deeper knowledge of architectural history might have prevented. The lack of a bibliography makes an evaluation of his architectural understanding difficult.While De Botton finally rejects Le Corbusier's totalitarian visions, he fails to understand the beauty of democratic building. He rants against the architectural ignorance of the home-buying middle classes and yearns for aristocracy and kings - as if autocratic rulers (or CEOs) somehow had better taste. The book fails to provide readers with tools to help assess the question how architecture can increase happiness. The only redeeming aspect of the book are its wonderful black and white pictures.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I bought this book because I'm interested in why we like or don't like buildings. I was generally happy with what I found -- a mixture of clear and interesting prose and many reasonably good black and white photographs to support the author's arguments about what we like in architecture. I appreciated particularly the argument that these kinds of values should be higher priorities for architects than the promulgation of some architectural theory. Auteurism in architecture may grab media attention, it may even bring dollars to a city, but it doesn't make for places people like. The other part of the book that very much appealed to me was the discussion of personification. By strange coincidence, I'd just heard a talk given on an odd kind of synaesthesia in which a person had strong personifications for letters of the alphabet (B is a nasty character who doesn't get along with his friends, etc.) So after hearing that talk, to open a book that had a photograph of an array of faucets and a caption saying "which one of these would you like as a friend?" I was hooked and finished the book quickly. I found the latter part of the book became a bit more abstract and unconvincing and my attention drifted a bit.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Not what I had hoped or thought it would be: how we design and construct happiness. Rather, this should've been titled "The Happiness of Architecture," because architecture is the chief topic. Much discussion about aesthetics. I'm surprised that there was little mention (or any?) of the character of a house or building. Nor was there much (if any?) mention of the importance of landscaping to the appreciation of architecture, the two of them complementing one another.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I do love architecture and frequently find myself fascinated by examples of architecture while traveling. This is a beautifully written book, sort of part philosophy and part close observation of building and design and, if you like that sort of thing, you might try this. One caveat: the section on why buildings speak to us is pure anthropomorphic blather. De Botton is better than this. You could skip it to avoid being annoyed, but the illustrations are worth a look. Regardless, I would read the book again, no problem, and recommend it to others.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A travers cet essai, Alain de Botton nous livre sa vision de l'apport de la beauté (dans l'architecture, le design et plus généralement dans l'art) dans sa vie personnelle, l'influence qu'elle peut exercer sur ses émotions, ses humeurs et son bien-être.Un livre plaisant, érudit, assez touche-à-tout qui invite à s'interroger encore davantage sur la place de tout ce qui nous entoure et crée son propre univers, en bien comme en mal.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Surprised by how much I enjoyed these musings on architecture and what it can tell us about societies.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Best for: People not that familiar with architecture who are interested in learning about it in a philosophical way.

    In a nutshell: Author de Botton takes the reader through a lovely journey exploring how the buildings we inhabit can help fill missing pieces in our lives, and impact how we feel.

    Line that sticks with me: “The buildings we admire are ultimately those which, in a variety of ways, extol values we think worthwhile.” (p 98)

    Why I chose it: I bought this long ago. It’s survived multiple book purges and moves, but I finally opened it up because I’m participating in a book challenge this summer, and one of the categories is a book about art or an artist. To avoid spending all the money, I’m checking my to read pile first, and came across this gem.

    Review: I don’t know much (anything?) about architecture. I know that craftsman homes are popular in my current city, and that ranch-style homes were popular where I grew up. I’ve been learning a bit reading the amazing blog McMansion Hell (which I only came across recently thanks to Zillow going after the writer, then having to back off), but I’ve not been able to put my finger on why certain styles depress the hell of me (most one-story homes; any office park a la Office Space), while others bring me joy (pretty much anything in Paris).

    This book has helped me to understand a bit better where my tastes lay and why. I am certain that there are architects who would disagree, but much of Mr. de Botton’s premise is that not only does style reflect the available resources and the elements that must be kept out (a house in Phoenix is probably going to look different from a house in Finland), but also the lives we are living. The greatest example of this is when he argues that people who seek out modernist homes are looking for some order in a chaotic life outside the home, whereas those dramatic palaces built in the 1600s weren’t just a fancy show of money, but also an attempt to create beauty in a time that was pretty dangerous (I mean, think about the diseases running rampant through cities).

    I feel that I learned about architecture and beauty, but I also got to enjoy some gorgeous writing. The language Mr. de Botton uses throughout is lovely, a perfect accompaniment to the many examples of different styles of home and building. It can be a bit dense at time, but I think it is worth it, especially for those interested in a more philosophical examination of our built environment.

    The only reason this is a 4-star book for me is because there are so many lovely pictures in this edition but they are all in black and white, which really takes away from my ability to see the detail and understand more of why they might be examples of architecture that elevates or depresses us. If not for that, this would be a 5-star read.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    A cool look at the evolution of architecture.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    At first I thought the nouns should be reversed, ie, the Happiness of Architecture. But I began to realise that the book isn't so much about architecture as it is about people and how they express themselves with architecture, as they do with other art forms. He is using architecture to explain humans. He anthropomorphises archictecture. Architecture becomes a frozen emotion. He says that “In essence, what works of design and architecture talk to us about is the kind of life that would most appropriately unfold within and around them” Design is used to show what we want to be, or what we want our values to be. It springs from “…the need for idealised forms to stand as a defence against all that remains corrupt and unimaginative within us.” The human psyche naturally seeks balance and ‘beautiful’ architecture provides that, a psychological balance and therefore mental well being and happiness. “In literature, too,” he says, “we admire prose in which a small and astutely arranged set of words has been constructed to carry a large consignment of ideas.” De Botton’s book is just that: a small and astutely arranged set of words that carries a large consignment of ideas. Which brought me to happiness.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I enjoyed this book but it wasn't what I was expecting when I picked it up (to be honest I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting). Still, the theories about why some architecture works or doesn't, the idea that we look for in art or architecture what we lack in ourselves or our society did get me thinking.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Seemed incredibly devoted to a touchy-feely, almost pop psychology, view of architecture and architectural history. I got the feeling I'd really hate de Botton if I spent any time with him. Still, for a someone who doesn't know anything about architecture, this was an interesting and useful read. I'm sure there are better introductory books on architecture, but I'm not asking for my time back or anything.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Summary: Alain de Botton explores the effect of architecture on the human condition: how it inspires us, how it enforces our ideals of beauty, and how it reflects our culture and our desires.Review: My sister, who is starting her studies in architecture at the University of Toronto, bought this book to prepare herself. One day I had nothing to read, so she lent me her copy. It’s a slim book but it packs a lot of ideas, and it doesn’t hurt that de Botton is an elegiac, poetic writer, capable of squeezing poignancy even into the most mundane sentences. I mean it: this is a man who could write about eating toast and I would lap it all up.His suggestions about architecture are interesting. I don’t know much about the subject so I can’t offer an educated opinion, but I thought he did a good job of exploring the connection between architecture and human wants and fears. It’s also good that there are photos to accompany his writing so that I can see what he means — some of the pictures took my breath away.However, one niggling feeling ate at me the entire time I was reading. De Botton comes across as obviously a white man. I have nothing against white men writing books, but when he’s discussing the universals of architecture or the human condition but he really means Western architecture and society, it bothers me. He talks about how humans all want democracy and classical ideals and things like that, which is only a limited view of humanity. Yes, he mentions briefly Japanese architecture and culture, but not much and a bit on Japan is hardly encompassing all non-Western cultures (as an Asian I get annoyed when Japan is always presented to the West as the model Asian nation, but that's another rant entirely). I don’t mind that he focuses on Western culture. I just wish he would clarify that more often rather than assume that the West is default. Also, he tends to revert to male as default when talking about people whose gender are unknown. This is a pet peeve. Others might not mind it but it is like nails on a chalkboard for me.Conclusion: A pretty book about a subject I was eager to learn more about. Ticks off a few of my race and gender buttons, but overall a good read.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This short book covers the theory of the insubstantial things which make architecture beautiful. It is somewhat interesting but tends to repeat itself and is not so useful for architects.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    I love Alain de Botton! But I simply couldn't read this one. Maybe it's because I know too much about architecture, but all his observations this time seemed really banal to me. I'm sorry, Alain!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Loved this!!