
There is a snake in our Eden. Or rather, our Eden is the snake – subtle, tempting, full of false promises, beckoning us on to ruin. The land in which we live is no longer a green and pleasant one, but as we fumble for a way back into paradise we risk opening a door on to dystopia. The landscape of modern writing on nature is haunted by the ghosts of fascism.
In her hugely influential H is for Hawk (2014), Helen Macdonald describes watching a herd of deer on chalk-land near her mother’s home. A middle-aged man, passing by, remarks: “Doesn’t it give you hope?”