Since our founding in the 1960s, the MIT Press has been considered a premier publisher of architectural scholarship. To celebrate World Architecture Day, this year we are highlighting some of our latest books on architectural theory and practice—including a study of anarchitecture, an investigation of an enigmatic Italian architect-designer, and an abecedarium-style book exploring architect’s intersection with animal life.
An Open Work investigates the celebrated, enigmatic Italian architect-designer Marco Zanuso (1919–2001). Zanuso’s buildings were widely recognized in Italy, and today his object and furniture designs, which won many awards in their time, can be found in prestigious museums worldwide, yet few scholars have addressed the different scales he worked at as parts of a whole. This beautifully written, lavishly illustrated book opens the door to Zanuso’s acclaimed work, specifically his dual focus on architecture and industrial design, a form of practice that many architects in Milan pursued as the Italian economy rebounded in a surge of industrialization after World War II.
Anarchitecture, a radical aesthetic practice of unmaking the built environment, staged a vigorous confrontation with urban renewal and gentrification projects in the 1970s. In Anarchitecture After Everything, Jack Halberstam identifies a powerful lexicon of transformation within anarchitecture, joining the movement’s practices of cutting and splitting with the destabilizing power of transness to detonate acts of formal violence in our time. By reading anarchitecture through transness and transness through anarchitecture, Halberstam helps us see the trans body as a space of radical unmaking and as a portal to new lexicons for transformation.
Drawing on his pioneering expertise in the relationship between graphic satire and architecture, Gabriele Neri retraces Alan Dunn’s path from painter to renowned cartoonist, offering an unconventional perspective on architectural and urban transformations—and on their perception within society. Featuring 200 carefully selected images, including Dunn’s correspondence, unpublished cartoons, preliminary sketches, watercolors, and rare photographs, Alan Dunn demonstrates the critical potential of caricature and cartoons for architectural history. Through Neri’s deft analysis, the book also reveals the complex intersections of architecture with media, publishing, commerce, society, art, and politics.
In The Architect and the Animal, 26 different architects look at how 26 different animals, from A to Z, have found their way into modern architectural discourse. The animal was typically approached in this discourse not through its various cultural or symbolic identities but as a body examined under a formalistic scientific lens. In this volume, the authors explore a less operative—and more meaningful—understanding of animal references and representations in twentieth-century architecture. Both playful and serious, there is nothing quite like this book.
Magic Architecture was the architect Frederick Kiesler’s most ambitious book project, an epoch-spanning history of human housing from prehistory to the atomic era, submitted to editors after World War II but left unpublished. In its holistic view of habitation through the lens of anthropology, ecology, and the life sciences, Magic Architecture is one of the most extraordinary texts on architecture written in the twentieth century, now at last published in the twenty-first. Kiesler’s exploration of the effects of modern technology in combination with the alternative epistemology of “magical” practices associated with cave drawings and the first artifacts of human industry reflects his profoundly interdisciplinary perspective on the development of art, architecture, and design.
Much has been written about Renaissance architect Leon Battista Alberti’s mantra of part-to-whole as one of the continuing conditions of architecture. While this underlying thesis has often been repeated in the annals of architectural history and theory, architects have rarely questioned the idea. In Rewriting Alberti, architect Peter Eisenman suggests, however, that Alberti provoked a radical discourse beyond the part-to-whole dialogue featured in his Ten Books of Architecture. Eisenman’s in-depth analysis of Alberti’s five built works reveals a disjunction between the architect’s buildings and theoretical writings, suggesting a new relationship of form to meaning based on the fragmentation of homogeneous space.
THE YALE REVIEW (March 11, 2025): The latest issue features a central folio, “What Was AI?,” exploring artificial intelligence through essays from Lauren Oyler, Christopher Sorrentino, and Melanie Mitchell. The issue also includes new memoirs and essays from Annie Ernaux and Namwali Serpell, alongside a visual portfolio by Vera Molnár.
Charles Taylor’s revelatory Cosmic Connections: Poetry in the Age of Disenchantment (Harvard University Press, 2024) draws together different strands from Taylor’s storied philosophical career to present a new account of Romantic poetry. “Philosophy moves us because it convinces us; poetry convinces us because it moves us.” Taylor asks what it would mean to take seriously poetry’s ambition to reveal new dimensions of the world through the resources of image and symbol. Readers of Friedrich Hölderlin or William Wordsworth are familiar with the feeling that a poem is true or right in some deep sense, without being able to defend or even describe that rightness in philosophical terms. Consider the climax of Wordsworth’s “Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey,” which serves as Taylor’s central example. The poet discerns
A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of thought, And rolls through all things.
A New Theory of Evolution
By Jessica Riskin
Evolution Evolving: The Developmental Origins of Adaptation and Biodiversity (Princeton University Press, 2024) makes for an exhilarating reading. It is not just a book but an intellectual revolution. The authors show that the experiences and behaviors of living beings shape the course of evolution. You might find it strange that this would be a revolutionary idea. You might wonder how it could possibly be otherwise: How could the experiences and behaviors of living beings have no bearing whatsoever on the course of evolution?
Adventures With Books
By Priya Satia
Debate about the role of Western education in Britain’s colonies and former colonies (including the United States) is as old as the British empire itself. Those ever-evolving debates have, in turn, been studied for decades by historians, literary scholars, sociologists, and other scholars trained in the Western system that has become a global inheritance. Saikat Majumdar’s The Amateur: Self-Making and the Humanities in the Postcolony (Bloomsbury Academic, 2024) opens up a startlingly fresh perspective on these debates, attending to the unexpected and agonistic ways in which this education system shaped particular individuals whose work has had profound impact around the world.
Psychedelic Rabbit Holes
By Susan Stryker
I came for the acid, and stayed for the deep roots of gender theory that I found in Benjamin Breen’s Tripping on Utopia: Margaret Mead, the Cold War, and the Troubled Birth of Psychedelic Science (Grand Central Publishing, 2024). Admittedly, gender is not the main focus of Breen’s book. But in using the personal, professional, and intellectual partnership of Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson to structure the narrative of this work of breathtaking originality, Breen reveals the kernel of a far-flung constellation of ideas and contexts that has rewired my brain’s understanding of the gender concept’s origins.
What does political revolution require of writers, artists, photographers, and filmmakers? How do they transform their ways of making in order to keep pace with such upheaval? In Soviet Factography: Reality Without Realism (University of Chicago Press, 2024), Devin Fore uncovers an entire archive of radical responses to these questions in the wake of the Russian Revolution of 1917, revealing a fascinating array of original strategies to record a world turned upside down. We follow all manner of “factographic” authors and artists (writer Sergei Tret’iakov and filmmaker Dziga Vertov are only the best known) as they scramble to register the revolution as immediately as possible. Their aim is not to arrest this transformation but, on the contrary, to dynamize it anew, to carry it forward into all areas of life, private and public, subjective and social. This riveting study of “reality in revolution” pressures our understanding of both terms; it also shows us how a reordering of any society involves a refashioning of its individuals.
Corinne Fowler’s enjoyable and thought-provoking The Countryside: Ten Rural Walks Through Britain and Its Hidden History of Empire (Scribner, 2024) achieves many things with an admirably light touch. Combining her lifelong passion for walking with her pathbreaking work linking England’s buildings and landscapes to the nation’s imperial past, she explores the many ways in which rural Britain was indelibly shaped by its overseas endeavors. She highlights how money, people, and rural industries closely connected the Cotswolds to Calcutta, the Scottish Highlands to Jamaica, Cornwall to West Africa and the Americas, and so on.
Ego, Redux
By Jonathan Lear
It surprised me to discover that The Revised Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud (Rowman & Littlefield, 2024) is distinguished by its fidelity to two authors, not just one. Over 30 years in the making — though time was wasted with in-fighting among psychoanalysts — The Revised Standard Edition (RSE) aims to reanimate the distinctive translation into English of James Strachey. This is striking because so many of Strachey’s choices — for example, translating Ich as “Ego,” or Besetzung as “cathexis” — have been the subject of intense criticism. Why, the criticism goes, translate the wonderfully colloquial German that Freud used into a Latinized, “scientific” English? And why not use the occasion of a revised edition to make corrections?
Neil Gong’s Sons, Daughters, and Sidewalk Psychotics: Mental Illness and Homelessness in Los Angeles (University of Chicago Press, 2024) does what the best ethnographies do: provide the reader with an empathetic understanding of its subject. Gong’s comparative work provides a portrait of “sidewalk psychotics” in Los Angeles and compares their experiences to the children of elite families who have similar mental-health struggles.
For those on the street, the aim of most social programs begins with getting them housed. Gong follows people from homelessness into apartments and finds that our social programs of “tolerant containment” do little to tackle mental-health challenges. Policies and programs that focus on housing first are meant to provide a wider range of services, and through detailed observations Gong shows that this rarely happens. The mantra seems to be: get housed, and hopefully the rest will take care of itself. Once housed, people are quite free from intervention or monitoring, including free from programs that might help them address their mental health.
In 1660, the first national post was established in England. By the Victorian age, there were 12 mail deliveries a day in London; friends could dash off a letter in the morning and expect to continue an exchange until late at night. Today, the personal letter in its physical form is largely extinct. But in the era of WhatsApp chats and exchanges on X, its legacy has never been more obvious. Far more than the novel, confession, or diary, the letter is the literary genre at the origins of the modern self: social rather than solitary, reactive rather than reflective, on the cusp of public and private life.
Wolfgang Streeck’s Taking Back Control?: States and State Systems After Globalism (Verso, 2024) may not make for particularly cheerful reading for the holidays. But it is essential for any scholar seeking to make sense of a range of current trends: the ongoing retreat from 1990s-style globalization, the crisis of liberal democracy, and the rapid return of hot wars, cold wars, and trade wars to a world that just yesterday claimed to have overcome them all. It was written before Donald Trump was re-elected as president of the United States, but it helps make sense not only of the recent U.S. election but the broad trend of elections over the last decade and a half, from roughly the start of the financial crisis of 2007-8 down to the present, and not only in the United States but around the world.
It is a bold move to write a biography in 2024 of an artist like Josiah Wedgwood, a British man of the 18th century. Iris Moon knows as much. She describes her book Melancholy Wedgwood (The MIT Press, 2024) as an “experimental biography,” by which she implies something more than defiance of the genre’s conventions. Wedgwood is most familiar today as the name attached to your grandmother’s prized vase. To a narrower audience, he is known as the ceramics entrepreneur whose successful factory embodies the emergence of modern capitalism in England. Neither of those stories is at the heart of Melancholy Wedgwood.
The circumstances that you bring to read — that bring you to read — shape how you receive a text. It just so happens that I was reviewing a stack of grant applications and planning an ethnographic writing course for next term when I stumbled upon The Ethnographer’s Way: A Handbook for Multidimensional Research Design (Duke University Press, 2024), by the anthropologists Kristin Peterson and Valerie Olson. This research-design manual, whose title is a play on Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, is unconventional in many ways: It eschews a linear, hierarchically constructed style of formulating “scientific” research proposals and encourages a collective, creative, and conceptual approach to research design that pushes back against the demands of the neoliberal university and the idea of the “lone, isolated anthropologist.” It’s even a little woo-woo. (The authors admit as much). Peterson and Olson’s model for building and working in community from the inception of a research project aims to “mitigate disheartening experiences of disconnection that occur throughout institutionalized landscapes, such as those between professors and students, people working inside and outside of bounded organizations, and those with expertise versus those with experience.”
Noto looks back at lessons learned across his career (including his time at the NFL and Twitter), examines the state of fintech today, and forecasts what’s needed for success amidst “profound change” that lies ahead in the financial-services sector.
Are Cities on the Verge of a Crisis or a Comeback?
Wharton faculty research suggests that how cities navigate the next few years could mean the difference between urban flight and a renaissance that outpaces the aughts.
