In her book The Ruins Lesson: Meaning and Material in Western Culture, Professor Susan Stewart explores how “ruins”—partial, decaying, or abandoned remains of human activity—became embedded in Western art, literature, and cultural imagination. In a Q&A with the Humanities Council at Princeton University, Stewart discusses the origins of this inquiry, the development of her research, and the wider implications of what she describes as a “lesson” in ruins. She outlines how Western culture has long engaged with fragments, remnants, and traces, and how ruination has functioned as a visual and conceptual motif across centuries. Stewart also notes that while Western Europe has cultivated a distinctive tradition around the idea of the ruin, other cultural traditions relate differently to decay or transformation—for example, Chinese appreciation for petrified trees or Japanese practices of periodic disassembly and reconstruction of sacred structures.

Stewart identifies several forces that shape this longstanding interest. One relates to the changing appearance of structures over time: how materials age, weather shifts, or vegetation encroaches. Another concerns the cultural and historical contexts that ruins evoke—questions about origins, uses, transformations, and the broader trajectories they represent. In considering these dimensions, Stewart links the ruin to modern concepts such as “creative destruction” and notes the environmental and ethical questions that arise when societies engage with processes of breakdown alongside those of construction.

As she recounts her research process, Stewart describes how her thinking developed from early personal experiences—exploring abandoned houses, teaching in Rome, visiting ancient sites—to a more expansive investigation of the topic. Initially focused on the late eighteenth-century Romantic interest in ruins and the architectural prints of Giovanni Battista Piranesi, her work gradually broadened to include earlier and later periods, observing how certain themes persist across time. She also traces how the figure of the “ruined person,” including gendered forms such as the “ruined woman,” intersects with historical narratives of iconoclasm, urban destruction, and shifting cultural symbols in both the Middle East and Europe.

One of the notable observations in her study involves the role of plant life—moss, ivy, trees, and other vegetation—in transforming ruins over time. This interaction between built form and natural growth highlights how ruins become sites where human-made structures and ecological processes meet. Stewart uses this to reflect on what happens when architectural materials deteriorate or are overtaken by natural forces, raising questions about durability, intention, and the lifecycle of human environments.

When asked why readers might engage with the book, Stewart clarifies that the term “lesson” refers to the act of reading, gathering, or attending closely rather than moral instruction. She views ruins as prompts for inquiry—materials that encourage reflection on how the past is interpreted, what remains meaningful, and how traces from earlier periods shape the present. Her aim is to invite readers to consider these questions through the wide array of examples she presents.

Stewart also situates the discussion in contemporary contexts where urban decline, changing climates, and infrastructural instability have become visible concerns. In this light, the ruin is not only a historical or aesthetic object but part of ongoing processes that shape cities, landscapes, and built environments today. She highlights how examining ruins can provide a framework for thinking about these developments and about the ways human and natural histories continue to intersect.

In this sense, The Ruins Lesson offers an approach to understanding ruins as markers of change—materials that reveal patterns of construction, decline, adaptation, and continuity. By looking at what remains, what disappears, and what becomes transformed, Stewart encourages readers to consider how societies interact with the past and how meaning is carried forward through fragmented or altered forms.

At its core, Stewart suggests that a ruin is not only a leftover object but also an active site of interpretation. It reflects the passage of time, the intentions that shaped it, and the conditions that altered it. Whether the setting is an ancient monument, an industrial building, or even a digital remnant, she proposes that attending to ruins can open space for reflection on how we understand change and continuity in the world around us.

What was the central question that gave rise to the volume?

The central question of my study is "Why and how have images and themes of unmaking and destruction become so central to the art traditions of Western culture?"

The fascination with ruins has ancient origins. In your view, why are ruins of central importance in Western society?

I hope that my book provides a suitably complex answer to this question. Ruins have been part of our founding legends of tragic flaws and broken covenants; they have been central to the story of the Christian reception and transformation of the classical past; they are a theme of our myths and rituals of human fertility; they have given artists a means to represent and transcend the limits of materiality in their pursuit of meaning.

During your research, did any questions arise that remain open for future scholars?

Yes, my study has been limited to my expertise in the Western humanities. The quite different reception of ruins in other cultures – ranging, for example, from the Olmec, Maya, and Aztec uses of Teotihuacanos and Toltec structures to the rebuilding of Shinto temples every few decades – are topics for scholars in other fields. A perhaps larger question is why global capitalism has succeeded as an economic model based on the oxymoron "creative destruction" and how we have pursued the development of technologies so detrimental to the survival of our species and the planet itself.

How did you go about selecting the very rich and vast iconographic material?

I conducted research over many years for this project, often taking photos and making sketches myself at ruin sites and recording images in archives throughout the U.K. and Europe. I eventually built a large repertoire of images and made selections based on what the reader might need to see. The Italian edition of my book has slightly different images than the English version – based, I assume, on permissions that were available – and there are many detailed views included.

May I ask if you are working on any new projects?

This year I have three books in press: my Clarendon Lectures from 2023, Poetry's Nature, have just been published by Oxford University Press. A new book of poetry, Bramble, is forthcoming from the University of Chicago Press. And my co-translation of Milo De Angelis's two most recent books will appear soon with Archipelago Books as Last Stops of the Night Journey.