At first glance, the “three founding texts” arrayed in Modern Swedish Design seem oddly matched. “Beauty in the Home” was first published by feminist and educational theorist Ellen Key in the Christmas, 1897, number of a magazine for women. Art historian Gregor Paulsson’s Better Things for Everyday Life (1919) is a self-described work of “propaganda” addressed to designers, manufacturers, and retailers. And the cryptically titled photo-essay, acceptera (1931)—a work usually described as Sweden’s “modernist manifesto”—was published by Paulsson along with a team of prominent architects: Gunnar Asplund, Wolter Gahn, Sven Markelius, Eskil Sundahl, and Uno Åhrén. Despite the thematic and chronological range, scholars who follow the history of twentieth-century Swedish architecture and design know that these essays are widely regarded as both mutually referential and absolutely essential to an understanding of the “functionalist” movement in Sweden. Chances are, however, that most scholars do not know these essays first hand; apart from an early translation of Key’s essay into German, they have not been previously translated. Thanks to the efforts of Lucy Creagh, Helena Kåberg, and Barbara Miller Lane, we now have full, English translations of these foundational sources.

It seems safe to assume that few Anglo-American scholars read Swedish, but joining the debates framed in these essays is difficult even for those who know the language since all three pieces refer again and again to thinkers and issues largely unknown outside of Sweden. The authors themselves were well connected both locally and abroad. Key was widely known in Germany, and her many books were published in nearly every European language. (The few exceptions were Italian, Hungarian, Croatian, and Bulgarian, although her work also appeared in Yiddish.) Paulsson’s professional career included more than a decade as director of the influential Swedish Arts and Crafts Society (Svenska Slöjdföreningen or SSF) and many years as professor at Uppsala University and chair of the department of art history—settings in which he maintained strong connections with German scholars and designers. In turn, his colleagues in the writing of acceptera were established architects with international reputations. Markelius attended the first meeting of the Congrès Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne, and he was later to help design the United Nations Economic Council Chamber in New York even as he served as director of the Stockholm City Planning department. The best known of the group, Gunnar Asplund, was at the height of his career when acceptera was published, having served as head architect for the widely admired Stockholm Exposition of 1930—a project that drew some four million attendees, and that attracted considerable international attention.

Despite the authors’ connections abroad, the essays translated in this volume address topics of special urgency to Swedish policy makers and others invested in the ways Sweden’s population could and should be educated. The issues they engage are universal concerns: how to live a good life, how to manage available resources, how to provide for all. Even so, the ways the questions are framed and the answers proffered are shaped by local concerns, especially anxiety about living conditions in Sweden, including housing standards that lagged well behind most of Europe. In response to what was often referred to as this “housing problem,” Key advocates the value of educating taste so that even those with very limited means might enjoy by dint of their own efforts the beauty of a wholesome, light-filled interior. She assumes that the prime mover in this setting will be the woman of the house, and most comments are addressed to her. Key also assumes that families will supplement old and treasured objects with new purchases; hence, her famous concern for the availability of aesthetically pleasing, well-designed products sold at modest cost. As she famously observes: “Only when there is nothing ugly available for sale, when beautiful things are as inexpensive as ugly ones are now, can beauty for everyone be fully realized” (35)—a comment with sweeping implications that extend well beyond the domestic sphere.

Paulsson picks up this theme with an eye to the practicalities of industrial production, including the synergy between “artist” and “producer,” “producer” and “salesman.” Mirroring Key, Paulsson argues for the suppression of bad design, noting that, “In all official undertakings there should be an unwritten rule that buildings and furnishing details should meet the most stringent demands in terms of taste,” again with the goal of educating the public (122). But whereas Key dismisses late nineteenth-century German taste as “garishly cheap” (34), by 1919, Paulsson credits the Deutscher Werkbund with the fact that “today, German goods have, on the whole, good form” (93). Indeed, he repeatedly advocates the introduction of Werkbund concepts to Sweden and the forging of dynamic, financially successful partnerships between art and industry to promote quality in Swedish products (this last, the overarching mission of the SSF). In Paulsson’s hands, the alliance offers social as well as economic benefits: a wholesome relationship between quality goods and the means of production, settings in which work is more pleasant, the responsible and economic use of materials, and the abatement of the “cultural disease” that makes “cheap frippery” so irresistible (120).

acceptera takes up some of these same themes although its structure and argumentation are more complex. A group project, it was authored by figures who played key roles in the organization of the 1930 Stockholm Exposition—an event sponsored by the SSF under Paulsson’s direction, and widely credited with introducing modernist design principles to Sweden. acceptera responds in part to the so-called “crafts dispute” (slöjdstriden), the widely publicized attacks voiced by several well-placed critics of functionalism or funkis, as Swedish modern design is known. At the same time, the authors extend and clarify the exhibition’s position regarding the role of industry to include the manufacture of homes as an engine for social change. Indeed, the Stockholm Exposition included model villas and apartments, many designed by the authors of acceptera and illustrated in the volume. Ultimately, the rather tricky title offers one of the best clues to the authors’ broader intentions. Usually translated as “to accept” or “accept!,” the full title may be well have been “acceptera Tiden”—“accept the time”—if one includes the name of the publishing house (Tiden, the publishing arm of the Swedish Social Democratic Party). Or if we take the full cover text as part of the title, we have: “accept the reality that exists—only in that way have we any prospect of mastering it, taking it in hand, and altering it to create culture that offers an adaptable tool for life” (130, 338).

Here and elsewhere, there is good reason to be grateful that the editors have produced near facsimiles of the three publications. This is especially important when it comes to acceptera, a work that forwards its case both visually and verbally. Alongside its bold typography, the images form a parallel dialogue. Thus, a model of a row house by Gropius is juxtaposed with a similarly “standardized” salesman’s suitcase and its neat fittings (232). Satirical vignettes of “a spinster daughter” or “mistress of the home and menial worker” stand for outdated social norms (150–1), whereas a windmill and one-story farmhouse are labeled “straightforward, sober, inviting—our tradition” (314). Unfortunately, the editors did not reproduce the seven full-page advertisements that originally appeared in Paulsson’s Better Things for Everyday Life—ads that promote products by Orrefors glassworks, the department store Nordiska Kompaniet, and other vendors. (That said, interested readers without access to the original publication can find the ads reproduced in the facsimile published by Eurographic AB in 1986). Other editorial decisions also will be much appreciated. Along with locating the majority of the truly opaque textual references, the editors have shown real determination to identify many of the unattributed and unlabeled illustrations in acceptera.

When it comes to the words on the page, readers unfamiliar with these texts will be profoundly grateful for the knowledgeable interpretive essays and careful annotation. The results include only minor technical errors, among them a few translation glitches that managed to slip through. For example, “swarthy” upholstery—in Key’s original text, svartmuskiga—should certainly have been rendered as “muddy” or “dark” upholstery, although here as elsewhere the intended meaning is clear even so. There is some confusion about the date Paulsson took over the SSF—1920 or 1924. Also, the editors did not fully translate the cover of Paulsson’s volume with its claim to be the SSF’s first “propaganda” publication. One seemingly minor decision is potentially more unfortunate. “Å,” “ä,” and “ö” are distinct letters in the Swedish alphabet, ones that are sorted at the end of the alphabet after the letter “z.” In this volume, however, they are treated as if they were accented versions of the letters “a” and “o” and alphabetized accordingly. Obviously, this is a fine point, and other recent English-language publications such as Utopia and Reality: Modernity in Sweden, 1900–1960 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002) adopted the same convention. Unfortunately, in Modern Swedish Design, the decision threw off the alphabetical list of author names since Åhrén’s name now comes first, something that may make bibliographic searching more difficult than it would otherwise have been.

These decisions do not detract from what is a terrific resource. Indeed, most readers will be left wanting more: more analysis of the ways in which the essays frame a conversation, as well as an expanded discussion of the context to which the essays respond. Kenneth Frampton’s essay highlights new issues raised by this trio of essays, among them, environmental as well as social reform. The individual contributions by Creagh, Kåberg, and Lane address important themes such as the culture of public exhibitions in Sweden and the social and professional ties between the authors of the “three founding texts” and the rising Swedish Social Democratic Party. Overall, the volume is a handsomely and energetically researched effort with the sort of generous attention to detail that will make these otherwise difficult texts available to future students and scholars.