by Bernard Rudofsy ‧ RELEASE DATE: N/A
A civilized castigation of the conventional modern house and the life within it as it is affected by that house goes to show that the American's home is never his castle-it doesn't even afford him privacy. And if the picture window can certainly never be an iron curtain- there are many other grounds for complaint on our habitation and our habits: the kitchen, now a nursery, laundry, pantry, is even a ""domestic picnic area""; it bristles with equipment- but there is no one to cook (Mr. Rudofsky is a gourmet- pate de foie gras, no peanut butter). When it comes to eating, the benefits of reclining are ignored- and the taboos of table manners are restrictive. Our chairs, which have gone from an upright to a prostrate position, induce a ""sort of static slouch""; there is too much music in every room; there is no sleep in the ""arms of Murphy""; we have lost the art of the bath- in our bathrooms; and our rooms, crowded and cluttered with gadgets and gew gaws, can only express our congested, contemporary way of life.... Mr. Rudofsky writes with great wit as he rebukes the aesthetic and sensuous poverty of our domestic environment- and there is an audience for his uncharitable critique- say that of Geoffrey Gorer with a dash of Robsjohn-Gibbings.
Pub Date: N/A
ISBN: N/A
Page Count: -
Publisher: Oxford
Review Posted Online: N/A
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 1955
Categories: NONFICTION
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