Jill Lepore
"As beautiful as it is indispensable, as breathtaking as it is devastating. It answers questions most of us have been too daft even to ask. The Burning Earth will set you on fire."
Amitav Ghosh
"A marvelously erudite and wide-ranging account of the steadily accelerating ecological transformation of the planet since the twelfth century. An indispensable contribution to both environmental and global history."
Sven Beckert
"A devastating panorama of human folly, a poetic meditation on how the search for freedom from nature undermined the very conditions for life on Earth. Beautifully written, Sunil Amrith’s global and long-term view is crucial to understanding the environmental predicaments we are in, and, perhaps, to restore a distraught world. A must-read for anyone concerned with the state of the planet."
Rob Nixon
"Memorable and mesmerizing. Sunil Amrith has gifted us a page-turner of a book, written with passionate lucidity. Historically deep and geographically generous, The Burning Earth dramatizes human freedom’s profound dependence on the health and integrity of our environments. Amrith’s capacious insights and his worldly perspective make this a standout title for anyone interested in the long arc of environmental justice"
Kate Orff
"A wrenching, clear-eyed reckoning with humanity’s extractive relationship to the natural world that plants seeds of insight on how we can shift to an ethos of regeneration and repair. Every page challenges us to conceive the future we want for the planet...and ourselves."
J. R. McNeill
"Ranging from the Mongol expansion to contemporary climate change, Amrith has given us the most readable global environmental history yet. With an eye for the telling detail combined with a sense of the big picture, this book brings environmental perspectives together with such major world historical themes as empire, freedom and energy. A towering achievement and a joy to read."
Kirkus Reviews
2024-08-02
Broadly ranging history of how we arrived at “this point of planetary crisis.”
The human destruction of nature began a long time before the Industrial Revolution hastened the process along, writes Yale historian Amrith. Taking an appropriately long view, he considers such events as the British enclosure of the commons and forests, “landscapes on the margin of settled cultivation,” leading to wide-scale deforestation; the Mongol invasion of Central Asia and western Eurasia, with its horse-borne warriors scorning agriculture; conversely, the Chinese importation of rice from Indochina, where farmers had developed more than 100,000 varieties of the grass; and so forth. All of these events speak to want and greed. So do Amrith’s more recent cases, such as the indenture of Black South Africans to work the mines of the Transvaal, leading to a global trade in gold, the development of gold standard economies, and London’s emergence as a leading financial center; just so, the discovery of the Azerbaijani oil fields, which preceded the first American well by a decade, transformed the czarist economy and helped usher in centuries of fossil fuel dependence, exemplified by not just car-crazy America but also petrochemically addicted East Germany, with its mania for plastic goods that “embodied a future where anything was possible.” Today, Amrith writes, the contest for resources increasingly includes water. Gaining a handle on the planetary crisis is complicated by the fact that the wealthy nations, having got theirs, have precious little moral high ground to occupy in making the case that the poorer nations need to stop their clamoring demand for the stuff of wealth: cars, consumer goods, and perhaps above all meat (ecologically disastrous and fostered by government handouts), for “now it was others’ turn to eat.”
A far-reaching survey of the central role played by human needs and desires in the destruction of Earth.
