Taking de Certeau’s insight further, space is a continuum of flowing places, an inescapable narrative. Thus every street is a book or a film, and every great city should be a great archive library. How do we read the street? By ‘practicing’ the places that constitute it, gazing at its vocabulary (vehicles, pedestrians, buildings), punctuation (signs, intersections), tone (colors, styles) are all clever ways of appreciating it, like what Perec practiced in Species of spaces. But the crucial thing is the syntax: how an elegant space is organized, just as a brilliant story is told. This brings me back to Lynch’s methodology in The Image of the City, namely that how an urban designer “writes” a neighborhood – and a story with rhythm – requires “edges” to mark the end of a paragraph, and “landmarks” to impress the wanderer/reader. But reading space seems more personal and critical than reading stories, as we all experience urban space in individualized ways and construct and transform it simultaneously. One could even say that urban space is like an open-source interactive novel, that each of us is both reader and author.