Abstract
Benedict Anderson’s book, The City in Geography: Renaturing the Built Environment, is a reflective interpretation of geography and its perceived separation from place. The book’s title is an intentional nod to Lewis Mumford’s planning classic, The City in History, first published in 1961. Anderson’s current book is thematically related to Mumford’s, with nuanced observation interspersed for this moment in time: to consider how humans neglect nature, to consider cities as a construct, and to ask how we might broaden our comprehensions to encompass the city in geography. The City in Geography is more than a phrase or title. It is an ideal, established by the author, which cities have departed from. The book discusses how the city in geography can be achieved.
Anderson is intent on reconnecting our concepts of place with our concepts of land, geography, and nature. This reconnection is initiated by conceptualizations, and it translates into practice. Anderson provides reflection on both practice and theory, ways of rethinking, to reinstate a city in geography. He questions whether basic geographic concepts like topography and geology are amply considered in the modern-day experiences of place. Why is nature relegated as an afterthought or at best, a niche aspect of placemaking? Has planning in practice become so entrenched in the bureaucracy of governance that it has diluted or abandoned its concentration on geography? Perhaps the gravity and enormity of nature leads city-makers and place-makers to focus on other qualities. Or is it an arrogance, a perceived superiority to and separateness from the Earth? Anderson is clear that the city in geography does not simply mean, “plant trees,” or “build parks”; rather, it is a cohesive integration of the natural geography, including topography, such that citied life becomes less of an antithesis to that which is wild. Rewilding the city is another term he uses to describe this work.
As humans, we have created imprints upon the land which will not be described as synergistic; our imprints reflect an insistence that we, human beings, are the center of the world, and geography is our clay to model as we wish. It is necessary that we question this philosophy, particularly as it reveals itself to be so laden with inaccuracy. Anderson highlights the inherent risks of anthropocentric city-making via examples; he explores places where the lack of geographic awareness has consequences. His discussion of flattening and removing ground is particularly thought-provoking. For example, he discusses the flooding and build-out in Houston, TX, as a disconnect from ground; Houston, he says, has lost touch with its natural ground by burying it under pavement, lawn, and roadway. How to redress a mammoth challenge like Houston is admittedly daunting to consider. Yet it is a critical reorientation to reconnect Houston-the-place with geographic Houston, including its natural land and water flows. Reestablishing a city in geography insists that we acknowledge the complexities of humanity’s oneness with geography; this oneness is critical to our capacity to sustain community, settlement, and city.
Our perceived separations between ground and place are always illusionary. In fact, the innate connectivity between place and nature, human and geography, is the key that holds our highest potential for safer, more integrated living conditions. At its essence, this book is an appeal to resolve the rifts between humanity and nature, geography and place; in so doing, the book meanders through a series of wonderings about how humanity first conceptualized geographic notion. Readers should approach this book with patience. The lexicon is often verging on the meta-theoretical, despite a deep emphasis on a pressing practical matter. His language and syntax, though sound, can be poetic and richly layered; it might not resonate with readers looking for a direct message. This is not a quick-read with specific limited takeaways. Rather, it is layered with evocative description, hearkening to ancient history, delving into complex theory, and identifying how current scholars contribute to a range of pertinent topics.
The book is structured in a way that could engender restlessness for an impatient reader; for example, within chapters, up to three separate subsections are all titled Conclusion. This creates a sense of imaginary finality within chapters, as subsections are iteratively titled Conclusion, yet the chapter forges on. Even in reaching the next section titled Conclusion, the chapter’s end is not near. Given the theoretical quality of the writing, it might behoove the work for it to be concise in its organization. It can be challenging to find key points and comprehend linearly. (Am I at the end or the beginning? This is an endpoint, but I am still in the middle.) However, this stylistic choice is neatly aligned with the tone of the book; as it bucks the normal comprehensions of beginnings and endings, it instead melds them in a new way. The city in geography challenges the concept of polarities being separate from one another. Keep in mind, then, that the chapters are thematic, not chronological. Overlapping focus is evident throughout the book.
One of the best aspects of the book is its comprehensive use of outside resources ranging from ancient texts to more recent publications. For scholars researching any topic related to connectivity between built place and natural land, this book is an excellent comprehensive reference to consult. At times, it reads like a book-length literature review, with titles, authors, and publication years cited within the body of the narrative; this spans thousands of years, and though it dates back to Aristotle, it does not neglect more recent scholarship in the specificity of its overview. Benedict Anderson is meticulous in his attention to connections across time between authorship and perspective, as well as conceptualization of space and place. His considerable reach to the origins of thought leadership is impeccably well-connected to his comprehensive overview of current scholarship.
The book is organized into six chapters. These six chapters contain overlapping themes as well as distinct points of emphasis. In Chapter 1, Thinking Geography—A Brief History, Anderson provides a summary of ancient worldviews that frame the conceptualization of geography itself. His exploration of geographic concepts and human imprints is bridged with a discussion of Lewis Mumford’s perception, and how our comprehension of geography has evolved since The City in History. In Chapter 2, The Nature of Geography—Geological Time, Anderson turns toward the scientific: a history of the physical evolution of land, geology, and with it, maps at the continental scale. He discusses our preserved record of history written in the rocks. In addition, he reflects on how humanity sees itself in relationship to nature, our journeys toward current realizations, and where we go from here.
In Chapter 3, Becoming Geography—Creation Scapes, the focus is exploring myth and storytelling as a bridge between nature and our comprehension of land and place. This corresponds with human exertions of control over territory, both dwelling and indwelling, and stories of creation and creation landscapes. Anderson also introduces and expounds upon the formative concept of psychogeography: a bridge between the psychological and the geographical. This construct leads to how our rethinking can ultimately shift building and city-making toward a more geographic consciousness. Chapter 4, The Fall of Geography—The Fate of Ground, is an inquiry into the loss associated with human influence on geography. For example, the chapter discusses freeways and bypasses as influences on multilayered orientations of space, as well as the loss of some small towns. This conceptualization is organized with precise connection to both ancient and recent history. He traces the highway to early Roman imperialism. Then, the chapter speaks to more current implications of this geographic fall, by describing Seattle’s thirty-year regrading plan as topographical erasure.
Reawakening is the subject matter of Chapter 5, Building Geography—Emerging, Forming, Patterning. Specifically, the focus is on how geography can be reawakened to inform Building Geography. This conceptualization of Building Geography is illustrated with multiple international in-depth examples to highlight its nuance. As a whole, the first five chapters of the book’s strengths come from extensive resources, theoretical exploration, and a sensitive look at both past and present. The closing Chapter 6, then, emphasizes glimpses of the future; Future Geography: City Adaptations and Meta-Morphicals introduces a range of possibilities for the future geography of the city. It offers an in-depth reflection upon the city of Houston, TX, in light of Hurricane Harvey. The chapter also explores Mexico City envisioned as the city in geography, as well as Hamburg in Germany. This use of creative examples to illustrate concepts and consider the future is particularly helpful and would be an ideal focus for follow-up publications.
Anderson skillfully depicts the complex millennial relationships between people and place, to increase awareness for urban dwellers today. Here, upon a planet, with 7.6 billion inhabitants and 4.55 billion years of geological evolution, our connection to geography is increasingly intense, stark, and dire. This book is a valuable guidelight on the path forward; it is worth a read and a reread. It will serve as a resource to support future scholarship for years to come.