by Jessica Leigh Hester
This title was previously available on NetGalley and is now archived.
Send NetGalley books directly to your Kindle or Kindle app
To read on a Kindle or Kindle app, please add email@example.com as an approved email address to receive files in your Amazon account. Click here for step-by-step instructions.
Also find your Kindle email address within your Amazon account, and enter it here.
Pub Date 03 Nov 2022 | Archive Date 03 Dec 2022
A surprising exploration of sewers and what they reveal about our contemporary world.
Why should we care about sewers, and what can they teach us about ourselves? In fact, sewers—and the stuff that travels through them—reveal a lot about how humans live. They provide a window into the goods we buy and discard, the design and management of our cities, what we cook and eat, and how we get sick. In Sewer, Jessica Leigh Hester plumbs the history of our human waste systems to show how we influence environments far beyond our toilets.
Sifting through the muck, Hester offers a fresh approach to questions about urbanization, public health, infrastructure, ecology, sustainability, consumerism, and our own values. She illuminates super sewers, fatbergs, waste treatment centers, and the afterlife of sewage. Without understanding sewers, any attempt to steward the future is incomplete.
This book is the latest in the Object Lessons series. Published in association with The Atlantic, it explores the hidden lives of ordinary things and what they can teach us about ourselves and the modern world.
“Hester drops feet-first into a Hadean underworld of tunnels and drains, bacteria and geology. Sewer proves that some of our most consequential urban achievements are seldom seen—and rarely so well illuminated. Come for the fatbergs, stay for Hester’s lucid history of architecture and engineering, public health and political ambition.” —Geoff Manaugh, author of A Burglar’s Guide to the City
"Sewer gives you that magical feeling of peeking behind the curtain—or should I say, under the manhole—into a hidden world. Let Hester be your guide to fatbergs, sea snot, and all the things we might think we don't want to ponder, but which nevertheless become enchanting in her winsome prose."—Sarah Zhang, The Atlantic