The book's underlying argument is that most contemporary architects of the bath, concerned as they are with impressing their clients with well-designed fixtures and polished marble floors (slippery when wet!) don't know what they are doing because they have never experienced a bath experience which brings them in tune with themselves and the universe. Architects design baths to photograph well, says Koren, while his own ideal bath is more like a sinkhole in a rain forest, which doesn't necessarily photograph well.

A fully satisfying bath of the Koren genre may be outside in a natural pool in a hot spring or it may be in an ancient Turkish bath building whose walls are crumbly to the touch. There may be a way to go from hot water to cold water and vice versa - a "particularly revelatory" sensation. The experience will extend for several hours, as "taking a bath properly requires being able to guiltlessly linger, hang out, and/or no nothing whatsoever." Just as an eater learns to linger at the table.

Endeavoring to suggest metaphors for a sublime bath experience, Koren talks about a bath being a discovery, some wonder stumbled on. This rings true to me. I love to walk the streets of Tokyo with a camera and a notebook and then when after five or six hours a pleasant tiredness descends, I look for the nearest public bath. I can buy everything I need at the bath: soap, towel, a small vial of shampoo, and even a new pair of socks. Invariably I emerge a new man, purified inside and out, as if I had gone to a great cathedral and confessed my sins.

Reviewed by Alexander Urbansky

back