By Bob Tedder • Not being a well-traveled tourist, I have at best a schoolboy’s knowledge of Philadelphia. So I faced a quandary when presented with Professor Kenneth Finkel’s book “Insight Philadelphia.” Did I care enough about this relatively unknown and distant city to give the book even a fraction of the attention it deserves? Furthermore, realizing the volume is a vast assemblage of relatively short monographs, I anticipated a generous whiff of ether. So, with apologies to T. S. Elliot, let us go then you and I and see if this particular patient is etherized upon my table.

It is not. This book is alive and well; a cornucopia of the arcane and the obvious tightly constructed and tailor-made for the stop-and-go reader.  Finkel’s use of architectural bricolage is simply amazing and may best be illustrated by example. The reader may or may not know about Philadelphia’s Manufacturers Club and its history. These factors become immaterial when the author’s architectural description containing the usual terms – entablatures, colonnades, corbels, dentils and more – is capped off with such a joyous and sublime sentence as, “Stretching skyward, the towering eyeful culminated with an architectural ‘ta-da’ at its uppermost heights.” Needless to say, on any future visit I’ll feel compelled to venture to the northwest corner of Broad and Walnut and, with my best country tourist in the big city persona, flourish my arms and give those very columns my personal “ta-da” endorsement.

The book is much more than this isolated specimen of sprightly sentence construction. There is a broad spectrum of social and historical issues confronted and succinctly analyzed. But be warned: If you are one who derives happiness from a Michner-length novel, this book’s staccato rhythm could be maddening. On the other hand, if Poe or O. Henry is more your style, then this book is a cover-to-cover weekend delight. If you are undecided, take advantage of the fact most essays are accompanied by an introductory period photograph. For instance, turn to page 128, look at figure 4-2 and if intrigued by the statue of Demeter see what shocking news is unveiled in the ensuing three-page essay. If old statues are not your thing then choose page 186, Figure 6-5’s more recent sculpture, “This Modern Iceman Calls Once with Frigidaire.” Either way, Finkel will not disappoint in telling you both of their stories.

(Thanks to Mt. Gilead’s Philadelphia connection for the review copy; the author is married to Margaret Kirk, who grew up in Pee Dee and is the daughter of local car lot legend Mack Kirk. If truth be known, said copy almost wound up in my library. My loss is now instead available at the Paw and if your curiosity drove you to the “Frigidaire” essay, ask the proprietors how many smoothies 30 tons of ice will make.)