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Through official maps, this book looks at how government presentations of Paris and environs change over the course of the Third Republic (1889-1934). Governmental policies, such as the creation of a mandatory national uniform educational system that will eventually include geography, combined with technological advances in the printing industry, to alter the look, exposure, reception, and distribution of government maps. The government initially seemed to privilege an exclusively positive view of the capital city and limited its presentation of it to land inside the walled fortifications. However, as the Republic progressed and Paris grew, technology altered how Parisians used and understood their urban space. Rail and automobiles made moving about the city and environs easier while increased industrialization moved factories and their workers further out into the Seine Department. During this time, maps transitioned from reflecting the past to documenting the present. With the advent of French urbanism after World War I, official mapped views of greater Paris abandoned privileging past achievements and began to mirror actual residential and industrial development as it pushed further out from the city center. Finally, the government needed to plan for the future of greater Paris and official maps begin to show how the government viewed the direction of its capital city.

Seemingly messy and chaotic, the landscapes and urban life of cities in Asia possess an order and hierarchy which often challenge understanding and appreciation. With a cross-disciplinary group of authors, Messy Urbanism: Understanding the “Other” Cities of Asia examines a range of cases in Asia to explore the social and institutional politics of urban formality and the contexts in which this “messiness” emerges or is constructed. The book brings a distinct perspective to the broader patterns of informal urban orders and processes as well as their interplay with formalized systems and mechanisms. It also raises questions about the production of cities, cityscapes, and citizenship. Messy Urbanism will appeal to professionals, students, and scholars in the fields of urban studies, architecture, landscape architecture, planning and policy, as well as Asian studies.

Essays follow rapidly proliferating and resource-intensive Indian urbanism in everyday environments. Case studies on nature conservation in cities, urban housing and slum development, waste management, urban planning, and contestations over the quality of air, water, and sanitation in Delhi and Mumbai illuminate urban ecology per-spectives throughout the twentieth century. The collection highlights how struggles over the environment and one's quality of life in urban centers are increasingly framed in terms of their future place in a landscape of global sustainability. The text brings historical particularity and ethnographic nuance to questions of urban ecology and offers novel insight into theoretical and practical debates on urbanism and sustainability.

This book is a way to learn from the Persian Gulf – to use its cities, cultures, and politics to broaden our understanding of how wealth and power operate in the world today. To learn from cities of the Arabian Peninsula -- places like Dubai, Abu Dhabi, and Doha -- does not mean celebrating them or ridiculing them either. It means looking closely at how they operate and their prospects for future impacts inside and outside the region. Here, a group of scholars from across the disciplines and much of the world, strives to emplace the new developments in wider histories of trade, of technology, and of design. They trace where the money, ideas and projects come from and where they end up going. They show how Gulf elites import planning and design solutions, along with brands and prestige cultural institutions, from the West – and also what they then send out. The Gulf set-ups – in real estate, finance, and governance -- function as “test beds” for new state-market arrangements. Also involved is the massive import of temporary labor and, almost incidentally, severe ecological deficit. Gulf Cities display extreme manifestations of urbanization trends that, however unanticipated in the grand traditions of urban scholarship, now impact the world.

The stadium century traces the history of stadia and mass spectatorship in modern France from the vélodromes of the late nineteenth century to the construction of the Stade de France before the 1998 soccer World Cup, and argues that stadia played a privileged role in shaping mass society in twentieth-century France. Drawing off a wide range of archival and published sources, Robert W. Lewis links the histories of French urbanism, mass politics and sport through the history of the stadium in an innovative and original work that will appeal to historians, students of French history and the history of sport, and general readers alike. As The stadium century demonstrates, the stadium was at the centre of long-running debates about public health, national prestige and urban development in twentieth-century France. The stadium also functioned as a key space for mobilizing and transforming the urban crowd, in the twin contexts of mass politics and mass spectator sport. In the process, the stadium became a site for confronting tensions over political allegiance, class, gender, and place-based identity, and for forging particular kinds of cultural practices related to mass consumption and leisure. As stadia and the narratives surrounding them changed dramatically in the years after 1945, the transformed French stadium not only reflected and constituted part of the process of postwar modernisation, but also was increasingly implicated in global transformations to the spaces and practices of sport that connected France even more closely to the rest of the world.

In 2015, one hundred years passed since Robert Park penned his seminal article “The City: Suggestions for the investigation of human behaviour in the city environment” in the American Journal of Sociology. It provided an agenda for the Chicago school of urban sociology, which came to shape urban research for decades to come. Since 1915 much has changed, both in the urban world itself and in the urban research that reflects on those transformations. In today’s world of global cities, cities around the world have undergone dramatic development, and nowhere as dramatic as in China. In the world of urban research, Park’s human ecology approach has lost the appeal that it once had. Against this background, in this book specialists on urban China reflect on the relevance of Park’s article on “The City” – for cities in China, for urban research, and for questions about studying the social life of the city. The aim of the book is to take Park’s article as a point of departure for critical reflection on both the research on urban China and on the issues that Chinese cities face. The book offers readers a timely respite from the eruption of urban China research, to reflect on what the city in China contributes to urban studies more generally. Despite the shared starting point, the contributors represent a range of perspectives that would disrupt any notion of monolithic “Chinese school” while also pointing the way towards recurrent challenges, topics and approaches relevant for a contemporary urbanism.

In 1968 a street and media-savvy democratization movement led by students emerged in Mexico City. The 68 Movement was targeted in a state-sponsored massacre at a massive new housing complex ten days before the city hosted the Olympic Games. Both the complex and the mega event were symbols of the country’s rapid modernization but also decades-long political disenfranchisement and urban redevelopment that rendered citizens “guests” of the government and its allies. In spite of institutional denial, censorship and impunity, the massacre remains a touchstone in contemporary public culture thanks to the public memory work of survivors and narrators among Mexico’s intelligentsia. Hotel Mexico asks: How was urban space—material but also literary and cinematic—harnessed as a recalcitrant archive of 1968 and continues to serve as a framework for de facto modes of justice. The 68 Movement’s imaginary and tactics are interwoven and compared with other efforts, both official and countercultural, to reevaluate or renew Mexico’s post-revolutionary modernity: in architecture, urbanism, literature, visual arts, and film—among them, Mario Pani’s housing complex Nonoalco-Tlatelolco (1958–64), kinetic environments created for the 1968 Olympics, and David Alfaro Siqueiros last major mural, The March of Humanity (1964–71).

Buildings are not benign; rather, they commonly manipulate and abuse their human users. Architectural Agents makes the case that buildings act in the world independently of their makers, patrons, owners, or occupants. And often they act badly. Treating buildings as bodies, Annabel Jane Wharton writes biographies of symptomatic structures in order to diagnose their pathologies. The violence of some sites is rooted in historical trauma; the unhealthy spatial behaviors of other spaces stem from political and economic ruthlessness. The places examined range from the Cloisters Museum in New York City and the Palestine Archaeological Museum (renamed the Rockefeller Museum) in Jerusalem to the grand Hostal de los Reyes Católicos in Santiago de Compostela, Spain, and Las Vegas casino resorts. Recognizing that a study of pathological spaces would not be complete without an investigation of digital structures, Wharton integrates into her argument an original consideration of the powerful architectures of video games and immersive worlds. Her work mounts a persuasive critique of popular phenomenological treatments of architecture. Architectural Agents advances an alternative theorization of buildings’ agency—one rooted in buildings’ essential materiality and historical formation—as the basis for this significant intervention in current debates over the boundaries separating humans, animals, and machines.

Why do we feel bad at the zoo? In a fascinating counterhistory of American zoos in the 1960s and 1970s, Lisa Uddin revisits the familiar narrative of zoo reform, from naked cages to more naturalistic enclosures. She argues that reform belongs to the story of cities and feelings toward many of their human inhabitants. In Zoo Renewal, Uddin demonstrates how efforts to make the zoo more natural and a haven for particular species reflected white fears about the American city—and, pointedly, how the shame many visitors felt in observing confined animals drew on broader anxieties about race and urban life. Examining the campaign against cages, renovations at the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. and the San Diego Zoo, and the cases of a rare female white Bengal tiger and a collection of southern white rhinoceroses, Uddin unpacks episodes that challenge assumptions that zoos are about other worlds and other creatures and expand the history of U.S. urbanism. Uddin shows how the drive to protect endangered species and to ensure larger, safer zoos was shaped by struggles over urban decay, suburban growth, and the dilemmas of postwar American whiteness. In so doing, Zoo Renewal ultimately reveals how feeling bad, or good, at the zoo is connected to our feelings about American cities and their residents.

Anatolia was the only major part of the Roman Empire that did not fall in late antiquity, but remained continuously under Roman rule through the eleventh century. Anatolia can, therefore, show the difference Roman administration continued to make, once pan-Mediterranean rule had collapsed. Urban decline did not set in before the fifth century, after Anatolia had already been thoroughly Christianized in the course of the fourth century. The urban decline, when it occurred from the fifth century onwards, was paired with rural prosperity, an increase in the number, size, and quality of rural settlements and in rural population. The ruralization was interrupted during the seventh to ninth centuries, when Anatolia was invaded first by the Persians and then by the Arabs and the population appears to have sought shelter behind new urban fortifications and in large cathedrals. Once the Arab threat was over in the ninth century, ruralization set in again and most cities seem to have been abandoned or reduced to villages during the ensuing peacetime, while the countryside experienced renewed prosperity and a resurgence of small rural church buildings. This trend was reversed once more, when the Seljuk Turks appeared on the scene in the eleventh century, devastated the countryside, and led to a revival and refortification of the former cities.

This book is an international comparative study of three critical and emblematic minority and low-income neighborhoods whose residents have organized to holistically improve local environmental quality and livability—Casc Antic (Barcelona), Dudley (Boston), CayoHueso (Havana). It examines the role played by environmental revitalization (land clean up, parks, community gardens and farms, healthy housing, community centers, improved waste management) in addressing exclusion, reconstructing community, overcoming loss, trauma, and fear of erasure, and recreating a sense of place for vulnerable residents. In those three neighborhoods, active residents, local leaders, community organizations, environmental NGOs, and other supporters have taken action in a several complementary domains that are connected to each other in order to holistically rebuild a broken community. Environmental initiatives are holistic as activists do not envision their revitalization work in compartments. The environmental work of activists also encompasses aspects of safety that go beyond individual protection against physical, social, or financial damage and harm to include soothing, nurturing, and resilience through the construction of safe havens. This research develops a new framework for understanding urban environmental justice and for planning just and resilient cities and shows that both physical and psychological dimensions of environmental health must be taken into consideration by urban decision-makers and planners to rebuild historically marginalized and degraded communities.