Some architectural problems of to-day — Themes and Context

Judging by Appearances

Reilly repeatedly anchors his criticism in visible evidence. He argues that from 'the depth of the window jambs and door reveals' one can gauge the apparent thickness of walls, and that apparent thickness is what matters aesthetically. This empirical approach extends to materials: slate lies closer than tiles, so it can be laid at a less steep slope. He praises simplicity of mass—'a simple cube or rectangular mass with a plain roof hipped all round'—as both cheap to build and maintain. The essays avoid abstract theory; instead, Reilly points to specific features like gutters, parapets, and the slope of roofs to support his judgments.

Adapting Old Houses to New Needs

In the chapter on choosing a small country house, Reilly offers practical advice for the 'semi-servantless days' after World War I. He suggests abandoning the spacious old kitchen and converting a pantry or scullery instead. The ideal arrangement places a small pantry between dining-room and kitchen as a 'buffer to noise and smell.' He warns against spoiling a vista or architectural feature for convenience: 'If you love the beauties of your house you can often pay too dearly for conveniences.' For baths, he recommends small American deep tubs that take little space. The guiding principle is to install new requirements 'without rebuilding or serious additions.'

Wren and the Baroque Appeal

In the essay on Wren, Reilly asks what gives his work its 'very human appeal' and how it differs from Inigo Jones's. The excerpts do not reveal his full answer, but the question itself shows Reilly's interest in the emotional effect of architecture. He treats Wren as a Baroque architect, a label that implies movement, drama, and a break from strict classicism. This chapter, like others, relies on comparison and direct observation of built work. The book as a whole consistently evaluates buildings by their visual and practical performance, not by historical prestige.

Readers interested in early twentieth-century architectural criticism will find Reilly's essays a grounded alternative to more theoretical texts. His focus on the everyday—suburban houses, bank fronts, coal smoke—makes the book a document of its time, but his insistence on judging by appearance and construction remains a useful lens. The essays are best read as individual pieces, each addressing a specific problem with concrete examples.

Sometimes I think of Reilly, how he saw towns as quiet self-portraits, and I recall a certain volume—The meaning of pictures — A Closer Reading—that looks at a face the same way, reading its structure for a hidden life. Both ask what brick or brushstroke betrays of its maker. A lovely, hushed conversation across the shelf, if ever I heard one.