In 1977, the landowner and conservationist Sir Ralph Verney made a sharp distinction between The Setting of Man and the typical decorative books of the era. He affirmed that this volume is not a coffee-table glossy, filled with a hasty album of uncoordinated photographs to satisfy a publisher’s desire for cosmopolitan flair. Instead, he described it as a distillation of deep thinking and professional integrity from two distinguished setting architects. Verney compared the survey, which documents how humans shaped their habitats in 28 different cultures, to two major television blockbusters. He noted it was “more humble” than Kenneth Clark’s Civilisation and “less dogmatic” than Jacob Bronowski’s The Ascent of Man.
The book charts the triumphs and disasters of human manipulation of the setting, spanning from the Garden of Eden to the Sydney Opera House. Its approach to history remains unconventional. Tim Richardson, who wrote the introduction for this revised and updated edition, declares there is nothing else like it. He characterizes the work as a “great and singular” achievement by two practicing setting architects who were neither professional historians nor academics.
A Distinctive Visual Format
At a glance, the book appears to be a collection of illustrated examples strung together as double-page spreads. Richardson notes the texts attached to these images are quite minimal, functioning almost as extended captions. Despite this visual emphasis, he reassures readers that the compendium holds significant intellectual ambition. Geoffrey Jellicoe possessed a longstanding interest in Jungian and phenomenological concerns. He held the conviction that the designed setting has always been a projection of the human psyche into its natural environment.
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Curiously, Jellicoe avoided heavy theorizing within these pages. He chose to eschew dense academic frameworks to release what he called “imaginative spontaneity and authenticity.” By doing so, he allowed setting forms to speak for themselves. The images range from ancient Chinese gardens to New World public settings, intended to speak directly to the reader as human beings without the filter of jargon.
This editorial choice was likely a calculated risk that has ultimately paid off. By stripping away the dense prose that often alienates non-specialists, the authors opened up the history of the environment to a much broader audience. It demonstrated that rigorous scholarship could coexist with visual accessibility, transforming how the public engages with the history of the spaces around them.
Bridging History and Modernity
Over the past five decades, the format and contents of this magnum opus have drawn both praise and criticism. What remains undeniable is its enduring popular appeal. When it was first published in 1975, it was among the first books to promote the study of setting history as a serious scholarly endeavor. Much of its allure stems from its lucid presentation. It was written for a broad audience and ranges over subjects as diverse as urbanism, town planning, earthworks, and agricultural practices.
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For this handsome new edition, Richardson has added a chapter to bring the content up to date. He tackles recent themes in setting design that either received scant attention in the original or have evolved significantly over time. These additions cover the post-industrial context, ecology, the garden as a work of art, and community gardening. The visuals have also been refreshed; many of Susan Jellicoe’s photographs have been updated, and newly sourced images appear in color.
Todd Longstaffe-Gowan, a setting gardener and author of Lost Gardens of London, reviewed the volume. As a former acquaintance of the late Sir Geoffrey, he agrees with Richardson’s assessment. He views The Setting of Man, in its extraordinary scope and variety, as a clear demonstration of the author’s boundless energy and sense of wonderment at the world.
