Insectopolis by Peter Kuper

So Peter Kuper had an exhibit at the New York Public Library about three years ago. And his new book, Insectopolis: A Natural History, has various characters wandering through an extensive exhibit in that building.

But the exhibit seen in the background of the panels of Insectopolis - usually pretty clearly; the reader is meant to be able to follow most of it - is not the exhibit Kuper actually put on. And that gets us into the story of Insectopolis.

In the present day, a brother and sister - unnamed, not clearly seen - are walking together to the NYPL to see a big exhibit about insects. She's an entomologist, possibly involved with the exhibit's creation, and is excitedly giving her not-nearly-as-engaged brother the historical background on the evolution of insects as they head cross-town. (From the East, so I guess they're coming from Grand Central and upstate? I always head to the NYPL from the opposite direction, from the bus terminal or Penn Station.)

Then something unspecified interrupts them, there's a vague but massive crisis, and in a couple of pages, the entire human race disappears very quickly but leaves all their stuff behind. 

The bulk of the book continues the story of insects with a more appropriate cast: a host of insects of all kinds descend on the NYPL "much (much) later," finding the computers are still functional and AI-powered enough to respond to bugs and, I suppose, have input mechanisms bugs can use as well. Oh, and the bugs all talk in colloquial English - to each other, to various ghosts and those computers. What I'm saying is: this is not a realistic story; the narrative is just an excuse to roll through a giant catalog of Bug Facts, laid out on big pages full of color and motion and visual interest.

Kuper divides the book into themed chapters, most of them focused on particular kinds of insects (ants, flies, bees, several sorts of beetles, cicadas, butterflies, and so on), but a few of them on human scientists and other visionaries (including Osamu Tezuka, semi-randomly). Each chapter sees some reasonably-interested characters - generally the same kind of insect - come into a specific gallery or space at the NYPL and start examining the exhibit there, which turns out to be All About Them. Kuper mixes up that model somewhat as he goes on, and has some mechanisms for more-knowledgeable narrators among his bug tourists, but that's generally what Insectopolis is: a bug goes to an exhibit all about her and her species, learns how awesome and ancient and interesting she is, and then she flies away to allow the next bug to take her place for the next room.

It's all very educational, in both the positive and negative senses - you will learn some Bug Facts by reading Insectopolis, and some of them may stick with you for several days after reading. Kuper does make it all visually compelling, taking advantage of all the colors nature offers him. But there's also a lot of spinach here: insects have been dying off due to human activity, which is one of the spines of this book, and Kuper, as always, is not shy at unleashing the J'accuse where he feels it appropriate.

This is most likely to be loved by younger readers - I'd peg the perfect age as upper-elementary or possibly middle-school; old enough to absorb all of the facts and innocent enough to be appalled at the things mankind has done. For adults, it's full of interesting facts but the way it murders you and everyone you know off-page may perhaps be less appealing.