Auguste Perret. (Poor Perret).

By Karla Britton. London: Phaidon Press, 2001. [pounds sterling]39.95

'Even with the extensive amount of serious research that has been devoted to Perret, the enigmatic, even impervious quality of his work remains a stumbling block', states Karla Britton in her preface; 'Written from outside the milieu of French technical analyses, ... this book seeks to make his work more accessible'. Her aim is 'to understand Perret as he understood himself'. Needless to say. she falls short of the mark.

Her introductory chapter, which skates through Perret's career at speed, and sections of her text dealing in more detail with three of his buildings (25 bis rue Franklin, 51 rue Raynouard and the Musee des Travaux Publics) read like perfectly acceptable student essays. But her 'thematic' discussion of Perret's work is a deal less satisfactory.

Although not the worst, the chapter on ecclesiastical architecture is both laborious and superficial because, despite copious references to published writings by a cast ranging from Le Corbusier to A. Trystan Edwards, Arnold Whittick, Peter Collins and Kenneth Frampton, Britton never really gets to grips with the subject. Political tensions between the Catholic church and the French Republic are sidestepped, yet diplomatic relations between France and the Vatican were severed from 1904 to 1921. If seen in this light, the publicity Perret attracted with Notre Dame du Raincy (1922-23) might be better understood, as might the polemics it generated -- particularly among Catholic architects miffed to be pipped at the post by a heathen.

Moreover, by eschewing any discussion of the Catholic liturgy and its architectural implications, Britton fails to appreciate that Perret's layout for St Joseph's, Le Havre (1951-54) anticipated the requirements of Vatican II by a whole decade. Instead, she claims inner knowledge of countless souls: 'However refined the best examples, (Ferret's) churches are not usually experienced as sacred, spaces, as environments that encourage the individual to seek a relationship with God'.

Much of the book is torture to read: careless transcription, conversion or translation have produced a generous sprinkling of unreliable measurements and misinformation (e.g. the words 'recalling the poetry of Goethe who, while reclining on his divan' should read 'reminiscent of poetry in Goethe's collection West-ostlicher Divan); some building descriptions beggar belief and so do many daft assertions. For instance, according to a story borrowed from Pierre Vago, Ferret paid no heed to any of the exhibits in the architecture section at the 1936 Milan Triennale until he reached a large photograph of his own Mobilier National building, whereupon he stopped and said: 'Now that, that is architecture'. To Britton, this anecdote 'captures the myopic sense of achievement Perret felt', in that he 'seems to have been unaware of the ambivalence which is evident in the Mobilier. For him, it was a summarial reflection of the kind of architecture to which he aspired'. Perret deserves better, and so does the reading publi c.