UB faculty member turns to environment with essay collection

UB faculty member Laura Marris turns to the environment in her debut essay collection, “The Age of Loneliness” (Graywolf Press).

It’s her first solo-authored book since translating into English Albert Camus’ “The Plague.” Her work on the French literary classic for the Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group was the first updated translation of Camus’ book for an American audience since 1948.

Marris, visiting assistant professor in the Department of English, will launch the essay collection with a reading and conversation at 6 p.m. Aug. 6 at Fitz Books, 433 Ellicott St., Buffalo.

Marris’ thoughtful meditations in “The Age of Loneliness” call attention to the growing separation between people and more-than-human stories of place. By situating personal experience in the context of natural history, she provides readers with clear sightlines toward the history of local places and an appreciation for their ecology and scales of time.

“I hope people will use these essays as an occasion to investigate and sit with the human and more-than-human histories that are unfolding in the places of their own lives, especially the histories that might previously have been invisible,” she says.

The idea for the book emerged in 2018, Marris’ first year in Buffalo, when she was commuting to her job at Boston University for part of each week, as she and her husband worked to get two jobs in the same place. She started reading about ecological issues to put the loneliness of her commute into perspective.

“At first, I didn’t think personal loneliness and landscapes were related, but I began to see connections between issues of ecology and my lonely commutes,” says Marris. “My long-distance relationship was also an estranged relationship to the natural world.”

In many ways, the closer we are to a place the harder it is to see what is missing. Familiarity softens perceptions, and a decline in what was once common can escape notice as it becomes increasingly scarce, she notes.

“If you’re not paying attention, if you’re not thinking about absence, then it’s difficult to recognize the changes in landscapes that are occurring every day,” she says.

Landscape, for Marris, is an appropriate representation for the way humans have interacted with their environment because it can imply not only what’s seen, but what has been modified.

“Everything around us is touched by humans,” she says. “There isn’t a pristine place that lacks human imprint.”

Although the Anthropocene is customarily used to identify the current geological era — defined by human impacts in earth’s fossil record — Marris instead uses her essays to explore the implications of the Eremocene. Coined by biologist E.O. Wilson, the Eremocene, or the age of loneliness, is a time of declining abundance and humanity’s subsequent isolation if humans allow wildlife loss to continue unabated.

“It’s interesting to investigate things through the lens of loneliness because the root word of Eremocene can mean a lonely person or a desolated place,” says Marris. “If we make a place lonely, then we become lonely ourselves because that reciprocity is a reflection of the broader ecosystem.”

But places are resilient, and the underlying sense of hope in Marris’ book comes with recognizing that measurable action doesn’t need to be a grand effort. Community projects can make a big difference.

“Community science, for example, which is an important part of the book, is a way of discovering what’s happing in a place, from bird counts, to planting a garden, to helping with a survey,” she says. “The gains are impressive when people push their grief slightly toward longing for, and cultivating, the abundant landscapes they’d like to see.”

And through the process of writing the book, Marris feels that change in herself.

“I began in a more alienated place as a commuter, writing and returning to the woods,” she says. “I didn’t expect the book to moderate my own fears, but through the ground-truth of community science, I became more grounded in my personal and ecological relationship to these places.”

Awareness can inspire change. And it’s time to start looking, since, as Marris points out through a quote in the book from Walt Whitman, “much unseen is also here.”