This house, it’s a whole different thing than I am used to seeing, a whole different sensibility. My Victorian was only five years newer than this house, yet I instantly understood how it was organized and how to make it happy. This house, I don’t know.
So maybe the house itself nudged me to dig through my California boxes and open the one marked DVDs. Inside that box, at the top of the pile, was not a DVD but a translation of a French book written in about 1800: The Genius of Architecture; the Analogy of that Art with our Sensations.” Nicolas Le Camus de Mézières is about to explain the theory behind the design of my house. He does not shy from commenting on its decoration, oh no. Room by room, he spells it out.
I will never have a Workroom for Confectionary or the Ninth Room, for the Under Pantryman. But I will never again have to wonder what this room is doing in that place. Gravel floor or no, I believe I now have solid theoretical ground beneath my feet. I believe I am, in 21st century terms, good to go.
As I read on, I will keep you posted.