Call number
Publication
Pages
Description
"A Selection of the Library of Science, History, and Military Book Clubs "One of the finest science writers I've ever read." -Los Angeles Times "Ellard has a knack for distilling obscure scientific theories into practical wisdom." -New York Times Book Review "[Ellard] mak[es] even the most mundane entomological experiment or exegesis of psychological geekspeak feel fresh and fascinating." -NPR "Colin Ellard is one of the world's foremost thinkers on the neuroscience of urban design. Here he offers an entirely new way to understand our cities-and ourselves." -CHARLES MONTGOMERY, author of Happy City: Transforming Our Lives Through Urban Design Our surroundings can powerfully affect our thoughts, emotions, and physical responses, whether we're awed by the Grand Canyon or Hagia Sophia, panicked in a crowded room, soothed by a walk in the park, or tempted in casinos and shopping malls. In Places of the Heart, Colin Ellard explores how our homes, workplaces, cities, and nature-places we escape to and can't escape from-have influenced us throughout history, and how our brains and bodies respond to different types of real and virtual space. As he describes the insight he and other scientists have gained from new technologies, he assesses the influence these technologies will have on our evolving environment and asks what kind of world we are, and should be, creating. Colin Ellard is the author of You Are Here: Why We Can Find Our Way to the Moon, but Get Lost in the Mall. A cognitive neuroscientist at the University of Waterloo and director of its Urban Realities Laboratory, he lives in Kitchener, Ontario. "-- "Our surroundings can powerfully affect our thoughts, emotions, and physical responses, whether we're awed by the Grand Canyon or Hagia Sophia, panicked in a crowded room, soothed by a walk in the park, or tempted in casinos and shopping malls. In Places of the Heart, Colin Ellard explores how our homes, workplaces, cities, and nature--places we escape to and can't escape from--have influenced us throughout history, and how our brains and bodies respond to different types of real and virtual space. As he describes the insight he and other scientists have gained from new technologies, he assesses the influence these technologies will have on our evolving environment and asks what kind of world we are, and should be, creating"--… (more)
Language
Original language
Original publication date
Physical description
ISBN
Similar in this library
User reviews
Six-word summation: Interesting concept falls short of promise.
Extended comments:
The premise of the book--namely, that human beings are affected by the built spaces in which they live and move, and that those effects can be studied and described--attracted me. I have
However, I bogged down with the reading of the book and was unable to finish it. I got to page 160 out of 226 (followed by backmatter)--that's about 70 percent--and couldn't make myself go further. So this is no better than a partial review.
Normally when I abandon a book I don't think it's fair to write a review at all, but in this case I have an Early Reviewer commitment to fulfill, albeit belatedly. I won't rate it in stars, though, because that does require completion. So please take this as a limited review based on a partial reading; it's possible that the last 66 pages would have left me with a different impression.
Why couldn't I push on through? It wasn't that some of the ideas seemed too off-the-wall for me, even if they were, or that some explanations seemed contrived to fit a theory and failed to take reasonable alternatives into account, although those things were part of it.
It was the writing.
Consider this 83-word prodigy:
"The burgeoning new field of neuroeconomics, for example, is largely founded on the notion that a human being's behavior only follows logical principles so far and that a fully nuanced understanding of how we decide what to do must also take into account our peculiar status as a biological thinking machine, built to survive by means of the principles of natural selection, and subject to biases of various kinds that, though they may not conform to pure logic, have probably encouraged reproductive success." (page 19)
Or this, weighing in at 84:
"There is little doubt that the impulse to build large, expensive structures whose size, might, and decoration far exceed their functions as buildings springs in part from the same kinds of motivations that cause birds and other animals to build elaborate structures in an attempt to woo mates or that cause the largest members of a social group of animals to achieve social dominance while rarely needing to use teeth or claws to defend their right to occupy the top of a dominance hierarchy." (page 159)
Tell me those don't awaken your inner editor.
I'm no slouch with respect to long sentences and complex sentence structure myself--attentively grammatical, to be sure, but admittedly a bit of a trial to read; however, they seldom survive a first draft. On rereading I usually find that I can break them down into two or even three shorter sentences without any loss to the sense or flow or interrelationships of the parts. In my opinion, this type of intervention ought to have been high on the priority list of the editor; but of course I don't know what the manuscript looked like before the editor laid a hand on it.
These two more or less random examples illustrate what sounds to me like stuffy and pretentious writing, with an emphasis on showy language and overblown rhetoric--and this remark comes from someone who likes academic writing, leans toward that style herself, and as an editor prefers to work with it. This document made all my editorial sensors twitch.
At some point early on, I said facetiously that it was almost as if the author had been handed a thousand vocabulary cards and promised points for every one he worked in.
Style of delivery aside, I had issues with the content based on its own internal logic. Some assertions and apparent conclusions struck me as incompletely thought through. The author offers hypotheses that lead to his predetermined conclusions and does not appear to consider any others. For instance, in a chapter called "Boring Places," he describes a building in an urban downtown block whose external design on one side consists of a long, blank wall. It's boring. People hurry past it. There's nothing to linger for or look at. He cites an analyst's observation that passersby on the sidewalk speed up when they pass a featureless facade. But wait. In an earlier chapter he talks about how we are constitutionally wired to seek safety over exposure--a wall at our backs and a secure place from which we can see danger approaching: prospect and refuge. A long blank wall offers noplace to hide or withdraw into--no protection. Wouldn't you rush on by? I would. But the author seems not to remember his own earlier discussion.
Many interesting and even engaging ideas are presented here, such as a connection between lack of education and lack of architectural aesthetics, for one, and the pervasive influence of Walt Disney on our culture, for another. He describes virtual environments and "sentient homes" that he finds appealing and that I think are creepy. At some point I began to wonder if he had an interest in selling them.
Well before the end, however, I lost patience with the airless, labored prose. I can't help speculating that, as with far too many other books, the author ran out of steam a little too soon and rushed his book into print when what it really needed was a little time to cool and then one more rewrite from front to back. An editor ought to have told him so. But that's not my task, and so I concluded that I'd given it long enough. I hurried on past the wall.
(not rated)
The book serves the dual purpose of presenting Ellard's own research results, and providing the state of the art on the psychogeography of cities by citing other studies and authors. It is therefore aimed both to the general public interested in the topic and to scholars. This is a difficult endeavour, and Ellard is careful to balance rigor with enjoyable reading, with unequal results. Some chapters read well, and are enjoyable to the layperson, while others are more dry and hard to follow. Unfortunately, the book starts with a rather dry chapter, which can dampen the reader's enthusiasm. Plowing through is rewarding, however, as the text is replete with fascinating examples ofthe intended and, often, unintended effects the built environment has on its inhabitants.
Nevertheless, I would recommend this book to anyone that is interested in psychogeography, and particularly urban planners, designers and architects intent on better understanding our relationship to the city.
Ellard even suggests that our feelings of awe at big things like the Grand Canyon are an evolutionary offshoot of our reactions to bigger animals who are likely to win dominance contests with smaller animals. Fun fact: male bowerbirds build structures to attract mates, and they do so in a way that creates a perspective illusion: the size of objects increases as the female approaches, making the male bird appear bigger.
The book discusses virtual environments—our self-representations are malleable and we can easily be taught to experience a long, rubbery, virtual arm as our own arm; our brains readily treat virtual enviroments like physical spaces. (Which is why the tour through abandoned college campuses in Second Life is so poignant.) Ellard is worried that GPS is damaging our brains because navigation is an important part of normal brain function, and since our brains are use-it-or-lose-it GPS could ultimately “trigger degenerative brain changes resembling those seen in demending diseases like Alzheimer’s.” Yikes! I’m still using my GPS all the time, because I never had any sense of direction in the first place, but I hope that doing puzzles etc. will stave off deterioration. Some of this is the usual techno-fear, where Ellard frets that technology allows us to avoid human interactions, but his example—a little old lady who used a wood stove for heating, and who therefore had to plan ahead and ask visitors to ensure she had enough wood, and was therefore more connected to her community and her environment than if she’d had a thermostat and central heating—sounds like it’d be terrible to be the little old lady. Give me a freakin’ thermostat any day! I’ll find another way to make friends.
I found something interesting in every chapter. For example, early on in the book Ellard discusses how fractals influence how much we enjoy a place, which I found fascinating. In the past, I had simply heard about the Golden Ratio, but Ellard's fascinating yet concise explanation goes further in depth. Similarly, his examination of authenticity versus fidelity was thought-provoking. Ellard has a real gift is showing us new facets of things we see every day and perhaps take for granted.
It's a potentially fascinating topic, but I'm afraid the book itself didn't engage me quite as much as
Still, it's not bad, even if it's not quite what I was hoping for. I did appreciate Ellard's thoughtful discussion, towards the end of the book, of the ways in which modern technology, such as smartphones and the emerging Internet of Things, can affect our experiences of the physical world around us in both positive and negative ways.
This is important stuff for any architect, designer, or city planner. It’s also helpful for just about anyone who wants to understand why the feel the way they do in certain environments. One part I especially liked was when he wrote about Temple Grandin’s slaughter house designs that keep cattle calm instead of panicked as they go to their deaths- this is manipulation at its most obvious. How many places do we frequent that affect us in a similar way without our ever being aware of it? The book is technical but easily readable. Recommended.
I do feel Ellard sometimes conflates an issue. Twice he talks about his children not being suitably impressed by a dinosaur bone but opting for the video of how the dinosaur looked when it was alive (also moon rocks) and this being an issue of devaluing of authenticity blah blah blah. Those are two totally separate things and I don't think you can compare them. If they didn't feel any difference looking at a real dino bone vs a plaster mold, then that's an issue to talk about. Just like I'd rather see the pictures and footage taken on the moon by the astronauts than look at a moon rock in a case (vs in a room full of rocks and minerals I will gravitate toward a moon rock).
Pretty interesting book generally well written, though I felt it strayed from the stated purpose too often.Not the best of the popular science genre, but not the worst either.