Making his way through global warming ignited by industrialization and humanity's boundless thirst for fossil fuels, journalist Fiennes sets out to explore the birthplace of Western civilization, Greece, in search of Hope, the spirit left behind for humanity when the opening of Pandora's jar released the evils into the world. It's a highly personal travelogue, as Fiennes drives his "small, mildly asthmatic" rental from one iconic locale to another--Mycenae, Stymphalian Lake, Delphi, Mount Kyllini, Olympia, and beyond--painting them with the historical and modern-day detail that late British travel writer Jan Morris might bring to the task. While Fiennes' visuals show a land often denatured by progress--cars, trucks, noise, litter, toxic fumes--he nonetheless finds a Greece still animated by the gods who ruled there thousands of years ago, recounting with an almost offhanded erudition their struggles among themselves and with mere mortals, struggles driven by emotions readers will recognize as their own. "The gods exist," he asserts flatly. In the end, an acquaintance leads him to the Hope he's looking for, even as he has asked her to lead him somewhere else. Includes a highly useful "A--Z of Gods, Goddesses, Heroes, Mythical Beings and Some of the Mortals Mentioned in This Book."

Nature writer Fiennes (Footnotes) delivers a wide-ranging if scattered meditation on his travels in Greece. Drawing on myths, dreams, stories of climate change, and moments of hope that he encountered there during "the first year of Covid," Fiennes seeks to discover if Greece's origin stories are "in any way relevant to our now apparently distant lives." He makes effective use of foundational myths, which he draws on when describing the Acrocorinth and the Oracle at Delphi, and his descriptions of natural beauty, such as the Stymphalian Lake, are memorable. The narrative often veers from traditional travel writing to more environmental cri de coeur as Fiennes observes the impacts of a changing climate on littered beaches and in the unbearable heat, leaving him to wonder if humans are "at a turning point, or perhaps the end of the road" when it comes to the damage done to the environmental. The hopscotch narrative is often colored by the Covid-19 pandemic, as trips are delayed, typically crowded sites are deserted, and, in one instance, Fiennes picks up two hitchhikers attempting to make it home before borders close. But though the writing is passionate and lyrical, the many disparate pieces never quite coalesce. This one feels stuck in the departure lounge. (Nov.)