LIFE ON A LITTLE-KNOWN PLANET

A lens on “an extraordinary time.”

In 17 long-form essays, all but one of which were originally published in the New Yorker in the past two decades, environmental journalist Kolbert gracefully balances a realistic awareness of losses brought about by human activity—particularly by the use of fossil fuels—with a sense of wonder at just how much there is still to learn about this “little-known planet” and admiration for those who quixotically explore and attempt to heal it. Often, she travels with the subjects of her profiles, as when, in the title essay, she accompanies entomologist David Wagner on a caterpillar-collecting expedition in Texas, finding “one marvel after another.” The book includes brief notes on many of the essays, updating the reader on whatever situation an essay describes. While certain undercurrents run through the pieces, notably a brief rehearsal of how Earth has warmed over the past centuries and how impossible a quick turnaround of that trend is, the book doesn't feel repetitious. The author’s emphasis on the particular, and her quirky sense of humor—evident, for example, in her descriptions of her adventures in beekeeping as documented in “Stung”—make the pieces fascinating variations on a complicated theme in which despair and hope dance together. Horror and admiration mix in essays like “Killing Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle,” which evokes in gruesome detail the delight that New Zealanders take in disposing of the invasive mammals that have hurt the ecosystem there. Kolbert isn’t afraid to tackle difficult topics: A section of pieces grouped under the title “Big Ideas” addresses questions such as “Should the Natural World Have Rights?” and “Can Carbon Dioxide Removal Save the World?”

Thought-provoking speculations about a world on the edge of violent change.