‘Immense World’ a sweeping survey of animal senses

Six years ago, Ed Yong stunned and delighted readers and critics with his dazzling début, “I Contain Multitudes,” revealing, in granular detail, the invisible, indispensable world of the microbiome. My review for the Star Tribune proclaimed that he “belongs to the highest tier of science journalists at work today.”

Those words proved prophetic (if I may pat myself on the back): “I Contain Multitudes” vaulted onto the New York Times bestseller list, and in the intervening years Yong’s coverage of the COVID-19 pandemic for the Atlantic won a Pulitzer Prize and was named a finalist for a National Magazine Award.

Now he’s done it again, and then some. His sumptuous new work, “An Immense World,” is a sweeping survey of animal senses, how and why they mold us even as they remain elusive. One doesn’t pick up this book so much as fall into it.

Yong structures “An Immense World” around the German noun Umwelt, “the part of those surroundings that an animal can sense and experience – its perceptual world.” Umwelt unfolds, meme-like, throughout the narrative, as Yong touches on the familiar – sight, sound, pain, and so on – and expands into non-human realms, such as echolocation and magnetoreception, “the only sense without a known sensor” and a holy grail for sensory biologists.

He leans into the mysteries but follows a clear through line, amplifying the science. “A bat must constantly adjust its sonar” when it stalks prey.

“To even find a moth in the first place, it must scour wide expanses of open air,” he writes. “During this search phase, it makes calls that carry as far as possible – loud, long, infrequent