Above a foul towering dump in Delhi a cloud of vultures and Siberian black kites fly in hope, ‘careening over the mountainside like some dreadful murmuration’. Here some of the world’s million waste pickers stash water bottles along their route, ‘like climbers making camp’. Oliver Franklin-Wallis concedes that his subject – the dirty truth of what happens to our rubbish – is not appealing.
But he does his best to make that untrue with arresting analogies and metaphors that shine like metal in trash in his account of his extensive travels through what the world discards and disdains. He focuses on the detritrus generated by food and fashion, and he proves a charming guide to environments that range from the depressing to the grotesque – including the mountains of black-bin contents smelling of bad cider, rotting fish and cadaverine conveyed to an English Merf (Material Energy Recovery Facility.
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