The Seven Lamps Project
I’m starting a new project that I expect to take a while. I’d like to do a very careful reading1 of John Ruskin’s The Seven Lamps of Architecture, taking notes with a mind towards eventually synthesizing and harmonizing Ruskin’s views of physical architecture with a conception of software architecture.
This isn’t the first time I’ve read the book. My previous reading was casual and mostly consisted of reading it before bed on a Kindle (a poor way to do analysis during reading). With this reading I’m planning to be much slower and careful. During the reading I’ll be categorizing my notes and quotes into my Zettelkasten.
Once I’ve finished this reading, I’d like to collect my thoughts into something either essay-like, or possibly, a conference talk about the topic. Whether I actually present the essay/talk or only use it as an exercise of writing-to-think only time will tell.
To keep myself on track, as a form of pseudo-accountability, and to help with my analysis of the larger themes and ideas, I’m planning on writing short summaries of each chapter as I work through the material. The Seven Lamps of Architecture is a deeply theological book, and I haven’t yet decided on the timbre of the final product, so my posts here may end up more or less theological than any final product. I’ll keep these summaries more on the descriptive than critical interpretation side until the end, as I’m not in a good position to validate or connect these until I have the full picture. I also don’t have any specific timeline or deadline in mind, so they may be sporadic.
To start, here’s my summary of the introduction of The Seven Lamps of Architecture (I may refer to this as “seven lamps” so I don’t have to type the entire name out every time):
Right off the bat, Ruskin doesn’t launch into an introduction about buildings, the format or makeup of structures, etc, or really anything about structures at all. Instead, he begins by discussing how architecture is made. He presents a maxim from an fellow artist2 that he launches from:
Know what you have to do, and do it.
Ruskin then describes that the most common failure is not in the doing of the architecture, but in the understanding of the thing to be done. We even frequently know what is “right” in cases of architecture, but not what is feasible. The problem leads to is proceeding from the realm of possibility, convenience, or capability directly into the “doing”, instead than proceeding from the determination of what is absolutely desirable, or what is “just”. Essentially we take something that is normally offensive to us if we were to use it pragmatically, and render it inoffensive simply because of its pragmatism. Ruskin reminds us that even in using or “settling” for this, we can still consider it offensive.
Architecture, to Ruskin, is distinctly political. It deals with the people (the polis) of an area. He asserts that any concrete laws or principles for it may be overthrown at any point by a new condition or material (like the invention of widespread plastics). Therefore, any principles we have for this art should be built upon natural law as given through God’s revelation. In this way they will not be invalidated because they’ll transcend the concrete (pun-intended) of purely material considerations.
These practical laws are actually derived from moral laws, and the exercise in any art may have fellowship with noble virtue. Each action is capable of true dignity, and has the possibility of being ennobled. Motive, however, is a key feature of this ennobling.
Finally, Ruskin asserts that the ennobling of this art comes by dedicating the craft to God, and that there is no art so small as to be out of that consideration. To act otherwise is insolent in Ruskin’s view, and every subject should be taken up in the spirit of being pleasing to God. He expands this to all realms (not only that of art):
We treat God with irreverence by banishing Him from our thoughts, not by referring to His will on slight occasions. His is not the finite authority or intelligence which cannot be troubled with small things. There is nothing so small but that we may honor God by asking His guidance of it, or insult Him by taking it into our own hands; and what is true of the Deity is equally true of His Revelation.
In this spirit, the short introduction is concluded and the book begins with the first lamp — the lamp of Sacrifice.