lauren redniss thuder and lighting
Photo: Courtesy of Penguin Random HouseFrom Superstorm Sandy to the California drought, weather is a constant presence in our lives, shaping the way we think, feel—and vote. Lauren Redniss’s latest, Thunder & Lightning: Weather Past, Present, Future (Random House) takes a deep dive into human efforts to grapple with the elements, with forays into mythology, commerce and politics. Combining etchings and text—the National Book Award–nominated author and artist designed her own font for the book—Thunder & Lightning lends a graphic-novel-like allure to some of nature’s most curious paradoxes. A chapter on rain begins in Chile’s ultra-arid Atacama Desert, where a rare shower prompts a dramatic botanical showcase; a trip to desolate Arctic Svalbard, home to more polar bears than people, culminates in a tour of the Global Seed Vault, where the permafrost acts as the world’s agricultural cryobank, preserving our natural diversity—from Irish clover to the American peanut—for eternity.
“Of course, I always go to a place hoping my ideas will be turned upside down,” says Redniss, who was recovering from her previous book, on Marie Curie, when she joked to a friend that her next would be about clouds and rainbows. “I was being flip, but then I started thinking about these phenomena that are so spectacular that we take for granted. What are they? They’re humidity, they’re temperature, they’re wind, they’re sunlight. Weather is the one thing that really everyone everywhere has in common, and I decided that I wanted to think about these things that are so familiar to us in an unexpected way.”
Redniss, who lives in New York with her husband and two sons, crossed the planet to research the book, but many of her best discoveries were historical in nature. A section on Walden Pond’s pre-electric ice-harvesting industry provokes thoughts on the close relationship between climate and business; a peek inside the Old Farmer’s Almanac’s storied black box suggests all the ways in which predicting and harnessing the weather remains beyond our control, despite scientific advances. (The author, whose illustrations tenderly recall vintage botanical prints, never lets us forget the specter of climate change, though the focus is less polemic than poetic.) Along the way, Redniss conducts interviews and uncovers a trove of whimsical facts, including Ben Franklin’s fondness for air baths, “the practice of sitting naked by an open window.” Asked if she attempted an etching of our portlier forefather, she laughs, “Some things are better spoken in words.”
Here, Redniss shares a few exclusive selections from the book with Vogue.com.
