Not long ago, when I was presenting at one of the Institute of Historical Research's Metropolitan History seminars, a question came up about post-war reconstruction and modernism: why had British architects, planners, local authorities and developers so rarely recreated lost buildings or streetscapes, whether medieval or Victorian or in between? And though my research had recently focused on this, it was a question I avoided answering due to the complexity of even a partial answer. Not long after, this volume of essays was published and – if I could time travel – I would suggest to all attendees at that seminar that they go straight back to their libraries to order and read a copy of this book. An architect, a chartered surveyor and a planner have joined forces to produce this volume and their credentials suggest thorough expertise: two are also listed as consultants to the Council of Europe on cultural heritage; the other is an extensively published author on reconstruction issues. The title has been chosen to provoke discussion: ‘authentic’ is invoked purposefully as a contested term and indeed reconstruction has long generated heated debate about method, form and style.

The book covers that post-World War II era discussed in the seminar, but its aim to cover ‘Authenticity, Architecture and the Built Heritage’ – per the subtitle – is based on a more expansive timeframe. Chapters include topics from World War I to the Balkans and even up to a 2016 example. It also quite rightly includes some discussion reaching back to the Romans and their issues with destruction and rebuilding. Yet the work is not focused solely on wartime damage; it also includes substantial information on rebuilding in the aftermath of ‘natural’ and accidental disasters. Furthermore, the essays here address not just practicalities but ethics, decision-making and various political impediments. As the introduction makes clear, there is a dual purpose the editors have attempted to serve: the volume looks at case-studies to consider guidelines, but also provides and provokes discussion on authenticity and – importantly – perception of and around the historic built environment.

The introduction is extremely thorough, detailing the topics and debates through sections covering a range of themes such as approaches, documentation, values and difficulties. An added bonus at the start is a very helpful set of notes on the terminology used. The introduction also suggests that while there has been a fair amount of precedent set in various places – as well as guidance in those and others – these have been more abundant than definitive. At the same time, Bold is clear here that it is probably impossible to define precisely ‘authenticity’. Additionally, he queries how we judge ‘success’ and even who is to judge it. As expected, this leads to a range of approaches throughout the volume. Geographically, the essays are certainly, and unsurprisingly, western-centric. The range covers central European nations, Scandinavia, the Balkans and North America. Unfortunately, one suspects there was not room here for coverage of the Middle East, which is currently one of the most topical and perhaps crucial areas that will need reconstruction guidance (admittedly, though, since the conflicts are ongoing, it is an evolving issue). And despite referencing and including groups such as UNESCO, ICOMOS and the World Heritage Consortium, the volume does not focus on global examples, even if it makes suggestions that are certainly applicable worldwide.

Nevertheless, this is a thought-provoking set of essays. It also has a structure unusual to essay collections in that not only is it very clearly divided into four general topics, but each topic has its own introduction, which really draws the disparate pieces together. Furthermore, it includes something to close the volume for which I have long argued: a conclusion that takes the varied parts and makes even more sense of them. There is a conclusion to the essays, guidelines suggested for practical purposes – though these are also worth contemplating by urban historians – and the volume also looks forward from where we are currently. Those interested in discussion of British reconstruction will not be disappointed, as there are two chapters devoted to Britain as well as a chapter on issues arising from fire disasters that focuses on British examples, including the very recent destruction of the Macintosh Library at the Glasgow School of Art. However, the range of further discussions includes some countries that are often overlooked and there are intriguing chapters here on Spanish, Italian, Dutch, Georgian and even Swedish examples – where the reconstructions have been due to voluntary destruction or relocation. For urban historians interested in the ideas around heritage and reconstruction as well as the practicalities, this is an extremely useful volume. Its organization means it will be helpful to scholars researching or teaching on certain geographical areas, while overall it integrates an impressive range of examples, suggestions, practical information and discussion points.