The Guardian Book Review asked a bunch of writers to respond to the global climate crisis in light of the upcoming Copenhagen talks.

Jeanette Winterson, a writer love of mine, offered this.  Um…I’m going to guess this is the type of thing that’s impossible to do well?

A taste:

I am your inner polar bear. Find me before it’s too late.

There’s a photograph of me rafting an iceberg, the melted sea all around, the sea that should have been solid.

I was thinking about the end of Frankenstein – do you remember? The monster has fled to the icy wastes because he can find no home; the thing that he is has no place, and when something has no place, first it does a lot of damage and then it dies. The monster curses Frankenstein for creating him without a world where he can live – then as the waters break around the ice-bound ship, the monster leaps from Frankenstein’s cabin and is borne away on an ice-raft into the unending night.

I am thinking about the end of the world – not because I am religious, but because I am a polar bear, and the world will end for me faster than it will for you, and you’ll put some of me in zoos and special chill nature reserves, but what you will really be excited about is oil and trade and who controls the North West Passage.

And I will be a monster because only monsters have no home.

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