Delirious New York book club questions

1. 1.

   Koolhaas calls this a 'retroactive manifesto.' What does it mean for an argument to be retroactive rather than prospective, and does it change how you evaluate its claims?

2. 2.

   The book argues that Manhattan's density and congestion are generative rather than problems. Does that argument hold equally well for contemporary cities, or does it depend on conditions specific to early twentieth-century New York?

3. 3.

   Koolhaas treats programmatic mixing — stacking unrelated uses in the same building — as architecturally interesting. What contemporary buildings or places have you experienced that work this way?

4. 4.

   The book mixes scholarship, criticism, and fiction. Does that combination make the argument more or less convincing to you?

5. 5.

   He argues that modernism's push for clarity, separation, and rationality actually impoverished urban experience. Do you agree? Can you think of cities or neighborhoods that demonstrate either side of this argument?

6. 6.

   The 1811 Commissioners' Plan gets a lot of credit for enabling Manhattan's development. What do contemporary city planning decisions look like from the vantage point of a hundred years later?

7. 7.

   Koolhaas is clearly making an argument for his own architectural practice, not just describing history. Does knowing that change how you read his analysis of specific buildings?

8. 8.

   The Downtown Athletic Club reading is one of the book's most cited passages. What makes it persuasive, and where does the argument strain?

9. 9.

   Delirious New York helped make density intellectually respectable in architectural circles. What were the downstream effects of that, in cities you know?

10. 10.

    What is missing from Koolhaas's account of Manhattan? What experiences or populations does his frame leave out?

11. 11.

    The book was written in 1978. Which of its arguments have aged well, and which have aged less well in light of how New York and other cities have developed since?

How to run the discussion

• Pick six to eight, not all of them. An hour of real discussion covers fewer questions than anyone expects, and racing the list is what makes a book club feel like homework.
• Open with what people noticed, not what they concluded. Asking for a verdict first hardens opinions before anyone has heard each other.
• Let the disagreement run. The questions below that split a room are the ones worth the time; the ones everyone answers the same way can be skipped.
• Ask the quiet person a specific question. A direct, narrow question is far easier to answer than an open invitation to contribute.