"It turns out that plastic is not only an ongoing environmental peril, but a compulsively interesting story. This well-reported and lively history helps us see the last decades in a different light. Buy it (with cash)." 
—Bill McKibben, author of Eaarth, founder 350.org "A must-read, and a fun-read, for anyone who wonders how our society became so plastics-saturated and who wants to do something about it."　
—Annie Leonard, author of The Story of Stuff "In a world glutted and fouled with fake plastic crap we never missed during nearly our entire history, Susan Freinkel's timely book on the subject is the real thing. No animals or children were harmed by its writing, I'm sure—but　thanks to her diligence,　a whole lot of them just might be saved." 
—Alan Weisman, author of The World Without Us "Plastic is everywhere, and Susan Freinkel explains why. Plastic: A Toxic Love Story is gracefully written and deeply informative." 
—Elizabeth Kolbert, author of Field Notes from a Catastrophe "The first step to creating change is understanding, and the first step to understanding anything to do with plastic is reading Susan Freinkel’s compelling, much-needed, and truly brilliant book." 
—David de Rothschild, Leader of the Plastiki Expedition "Who’d have thought that combs, Frisbees and lighters could have such secret histories and such disturbing futures? Susan Freinkel’s page-turner brings together history, science and culture to help us understand the plastic world that we have wrought, and has become part of us. Although we should all worry that plastics will persist for centuries, Plastic deserves to endure for years to come." 
—Raj Patel, author of The Value of Nothing "Susan Freinkel’s book exponentially increased my desirous love and my hate for plastic. What a great read—rigorous, smart, inspiring, and as seductive as plastic itself." 
—Karim Rashid, Designer "What is plastic, really? Where does it come from? How did my life become so permeated by synthetics without my even trying?" Surrounded by plastic and depressed by the political, environmental, and medical consequences of our dependence on it, Freinkel (The American Chestnut) chronicles our history with plastic, "from enraptured embrace to deep disenchantment," through eight household items including the comb, credit card, and soda bottle (celluloid, one of the first synthetics, transformed the comb from a luxury item to an affordable commodity and was once heralded for relieving the pressure on elephants and tortoises for their ivory and shells). She takes readers to factories in China, where women toil 60-hour weeks for $175 a month to make Frisbees; to preemie wards, where the lifesaving vinyl tubes that deliver food and oxygen to premature babies may cause altered thyroid function, allergies, and liver problems later in life. Freinkel's smart, well-written analysis of this love-hate relationship is likely to make plastic lovers take pause, plastic haters reluctantly realize its value, and all of us understand the importance of individual action, political will, and technological innovation in weaning us off our addiction to synthetics.* (Apr.)
--Publishers Weekly

*"An informative treatise on our complicated and dependent relationship with plastic...Freinkel presents a balanced, well-researched investigation into a controversial and versatile human creation." --Kirkus "Susan Freinkel had me from the minute I finished reading about her attempt to try to live without plastic for a week...Ms. Freinkel has penned a fascinating—and at times extremely disturbing—book about material that has literally invaded and, as her research reveals, infected every aspect of modern life."-

Autorentext
SUSAN FREINKEL* has written for the New York Times, Discover, Smithsonian, and Health, among other publications. She is the author of The American Chestnut*, which Mary Roach called “a perfect book” and Richard Preston described as “a beautifully written account” filled with “top-notch” writing and reporting.

Klappentext

Plastic built the modern world. Where would we be without bike helmets, baggies, toothbrushes, and pacemakers? But a century into our love affair with plastic, we're starting to realize it's not such a healthy relationship. Plastics draw on dwindling fossil fuels, leach harmful chemicals, litter landscapes, and destroy marine life. As journalist Susan Freinkel points out in this engaging and eye-opening book, we're nearing a crisis point. We've produced as much plastic in the past decade as we did in the entire twentieth century. We're drowning in the stuff, and we need to start making some hard choices.

Freinkel gives us the tools we need with a blend of lively anecdotes and analysis. She combs through scientific studies and economic data, reporting from China and across the United States to assess the real impact of plastic on our lives. She tells her story through eight familiar plastic objects: comb, chair, Frisbee, IV bag, disposable lighter, grocery bag, soda bottle, and credit card. Her conclusion: we cannot stay on our plastic-paved path. And we don't have to. Plastic points the way toward a new creative partnership with the material we love to hate but can't seem to live without.

Leseprobe

I n t r o d u c t i o n

Plasticville

In 1950, a Philadelphia toy company came out with a new accessory
for electric-train enthusiasts: snap-together kits of plastic
buildings for a place it called Plasticville, U.S.A. Sets of plastic
people to populate the town were optional.
 It started as a sleepy, rural place where trains might roll past redsided
barns to pull into a village with snug Cape Cod homes, a police
department, a fire station, a schoolhouse, and a quaint white
church with a steeple. But over the years, the product line spread
into a bustling burb of housing tracts filled with two-story Colonials
and split-level ranch houses and a Main Street that boasted a bank,
a combination hardware store/pharmacy, a modern supermarket, a
two-story hospital, and a town hall modeled on Philadelphia’s historic
Independence Hall. Eventually Plasticville even gained a drivein
motel, an airport, and its own TV station, WPLA.
 Today, of course, we all live in Plasticville. But it wasn’t clear to me
just how plastic my world had become until I decided to go an entire
day without touching anything plastic. The absurdity of this experiment
became apparent about ten seconds into the appointed morning
when I shuffled bleary-eyed into the bathroom: the toilet seat
was plastic. I quickly revised my plan. I would spend the day writing
down everything I touched that was plastic.
 Within forty-five minutes I had filled an entire page in my Penway
Composition Book (which itself had to be cataloged as partly plastic,
given its synthetic binding, as did my well-sharpened no. 2 pencil,
which was coated with yellow paint that contained acrylic). Here’s
some of what I wrote down as I made my way through my earlymorning
routine:

Alarm clock, mattress, heating pad, eyeglasses, toilet seat, toothbrush,
toothpaste tube and cap, wallpaper, Corian counter, light
switch, tablecloth, Cuisinart, electric teakettle, refrigerator handle,
bag of frozen strawberries, scissors handle, yogurt container, lid
for can of honey, juice pitcher, milk bottle, seltzer bottle, lid of cinnamon
jar, bread bag, cellophane wrapping of box of tea, packaging
of tea bag, thermos, spatula handle, bottle of dish soap, bowl,
cutting board, baggies, computer, fleece sweatshirt, sports bra,
yoga pants, sneakers, tub containing cat food, cup inside tub to
scoop out the kibble, dog leash, Walkm…