Carcassonne

How important is authenticity?

Eugene Viollet-le-Duc was born 200 years ago today. Not many British people would have heard of him before he was honoured with a rather fine Google-doodle, but his work is the cause of much controversy amongst historians and architects.

When he was restoring the city of Carcassonne (and Notre Dame, for that matter) he decided to add a number of new features: modifications, improvements or just plain whimsy, depending on your point of view. Some people think this is an outrage, but I suspect most visitors are not architectural historians and find the place simply gorgeous.

If you were rebuilding something that was all broken  -  a family, say, or a marriage  -  I guess you're not necessarily obliged to try and recreate it the way it was. Times may have moved on so why not incorporate new ideas, new features? I don't suppose there's any law that says things have to go back exactly the way the were, and since we can only move onwards not backwards in life, why not ditch the parts we don't like, and bring in some improvements? 

Part of the decision involves the initial assessment - whether the construction is a write-off, beyond economic repair, or whether it's storm damage, nothing that a few new windows and a lick of paint won't sort out. 

If your building, your city, your life is no longer fit for purpose, there are a number of options. These include: move to a new location; rebuild to the original plan, recycling as many of the existing materials as possible; clear the ground and build something completely new and different.

Unfortunately in this, as in so many decisions, there are no easy answers. Opinions are divided as to what is right, best, appropriate. But people are often happier with a charming, fake version of life than a dirtier, more difficult authentic reality. Carcassonne is as lovely as you hoped it would be, and you don't really mind that it isn't "real".