Story of a Utopian

Harry T. Moore and Karl W. Deutsch have had the rewarding idea of presenting a wide selection from the work of Lewis Mumford that is artfully designed to give the whole range of the man. Called The Human Prospect (Beacon Press, $1.45), the arrangement includes fugitive magazine pieces as well as “bests” from a long list of Mumford books that are still very much in print. Some of the groupings in The Human Prospect accentuate the autobiographical; others put forth the analytical Mumford; and, as must always be the case with any truly representative Mumford selection, the element of prophecy bulks large. Sometimes the prophecy is good; sometimes it is merely windy.

Reading, or rereading, the various pieces from the vantage point of 1956, it is surprising to discover how well Mumford stands up in general. It is also a source of perennial wonder that so good a man can be so persistently wrongheaded in some of his basic assumptions about economics, politics and “planning.” Mumford is full of tremendous insights which he contradicts in his conclusions. He pays homage to Patrick Geddes, the Scottish ecologist and student of city growth, in passage after passage that exalt the idea of discipleship—but the ardent disciple frequently overlooks some very important things in Geddes which a less consciously exalted Mumford notes and then proceeds to forget.

JC

About the Author

John Chamberlain

John Chamberlain (1903–1995) was an American writer.

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Harry T. Moore and Karl W. Deutsch have had the rewarding idea of presenting a wide selection from the work of Lewis Mumford that is artfully designed to give the whole range of the man. Called The Human Prospect (Beacon Press, $1.45), the arrangement includes fugitive magazine pieces as well as “bests” from a long list of Mumford books that are still very much in print. Some of the groupings in The Human Prospect accentuate the autobiographical; others put forth the analytical Mumford; and, as must always be the case with any truly representative Mumford selection, the element of prophecy bulks large. Sometimes the prophecy is good; sometimes it is merely windy.

Reading, or rereading, the various pieces from the vantage point of 1956, it is surprising to discover how well Mumford stands up in general. It is also a source of perennial wonder that so good a man can be so persistently wrongheaded in some of his basic assumptions about economics, politics and “planning.” Mumford is full of tremendous insights which he contradicts in his conclusions. He pays homage to Patrick Geddes, the Scottish ecologist and student of city growth, in passage after passage that exalt the idea of discipleship—but the ardent disciple frequently overlooks some very important things in Geddes which a less consciously exalted Mumford notes and then proceeds to forget.