LADY OF THE LINES

A German scientist devotes her life to uncovering and protecting the Nazca Lines in Peru.

With a bundle of brooms and an obsession, Maria Reiche orchestrated the preservation of “the Lines,” which she first encountered in 1941, when an American anthropologist showed her aerial photographs of them. The series of giant figures, among them a monkey the size of a soccer field and a spider “as big as four buses laid end to end,” were etched deeply into the Nazca Desert centuries ago. The Lines remained mostly hidden by sand and dust until Reiche began sweeping them. She worked daily for years under the hot sun, cataloguing the figures and photographing them from a helicopter, and she advocated for their protection from exploitation. Her efforts took a toll on her health, but she remained engaged by their mystery: How were they made? Why were they so big? MacColl’s descriptions are accompanied by quotes from Reiche. In 1994 the area was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but the origins of the Nazca Lines remain a mystery, as MacColl details in the extensive backmatter. The engaging narrative is part process story and part biography; Reiche’s unwavering commitment is nicely reflected by Chavarri’s depiction of her work from a variety of perspectives—close up as the Lines emerge, from above as a figure becomes clear, and then as a sky filled with constellations (Reiche theorized that the Lines were star maps).

An inspiring portrait of scientific dedication.