Susan Freinkel’s “Plastic: A Toxic Love Story” is one of those books that can change your life. Chances are, you’ll wake up wondering what’s in your mattress, and then again the carpet fibers as you wander into the bathroom. The toilet seat is made of plastic, you suddenly realize. Brushing your teeth, you’ll pause… what kind of plastic is in that toothbrush?
Freinkel’s book illustrates how plastic became so ubiquitous in our lives and homes. Saving the reader from the overwhelming list of products available in plastics, she tells the story of plastic through eight common objects: the comb, the chair, the Frisbee, IV bags, lighters, grocery bags, bottles and credit cards.
Each tale is fascinating, delving into the history of American industrialism and capitalism. The plastic comb allows us to marvel at the ingenuity of man; surely an improvement over the dwindling shells of tortoises. The plastic chair shows us the aesthetic possibilities of the material. In theory, plastic, ever malleable and inexpensive, could provide the way for excellent design in every household—think of those marvelous Louis Ghost chairs, or the Eames Tulip. More common is the “monobloc” chair, available for a couple of dollars at every big-box store in America. Juxtaposed, they show us the best and the worst plastic possibilities—art and disposable furniture.
While people today are more than ever familiar with PETs and BPAs, particularly parents, Freinkel helps navigate the chemistry of plastics. Mercifully non-scientific, she explains the basics of polymers and how different arrangements of molecules create various types of plastics. Chapters about disposable items like cigarette lighters, grocery bags and soda bottles tell the story of trash, landfills and the degrading process. By the time she gets to the Pacific Garbage Patch most readers will begin contemplating their toothbrushes and getting really angry about how, for example, Del Monte has begun selling individual bananas in a plastic wrapper.
“Plastic” is a love story (the tortured kind), and also a financial and ecological drama (like “Erin Brockovich” or “Michael Clayton”). It’s an international caper—of plastic pellets created in Texas and then shipped to China, then returned to the US and ironically sent back to China again for recycling at the end of a “life-cycle.” Freinkel’s book is not a diatribe, calling for an assault on plastics. In fact, she seems to encourage just a bit more thoughtfulness and moderation in consumer choices. But she does make it clear that the rate of plastic production and consumption is unsustainable and dangerous at its current pace.
“Plastic is so deeply embedded in our consumer culture,” she writes, “it is almost synonymous with it. Look at the bright, shiny hygienic surface of Plasticville and you’ll see a wealth of products that make life easier, more convenient. But start scratching that surface and you’ll begin to see that minor, even trivial, conveniences can have profound consequences—whether that’s reflected in disposables that will outlive us, chemicals that can undermine the health and fertility of future generations, or albatrosses choking on things we’ve discarded because they can’t be reused or recycled.” Exhaustively researched and extremely readable, this eye-opening book has the potential, even, to influence a cultural change. (Kelly Roark)
“Plastic: A Toxic Love Story” By Susan Freinkel Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 298 pages, $27
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