


Alternatively the natural world becomes a Lilliput, wherein Western modernity’s appetite seems as prodigiously unsustainable, its waste discharge as voluminous, its ecological footprint as destructive as that of a gargantuan Gulliver. Often the entire planet appears as an exhausted Crusoe’s Island, a prison rather than a defended enclosure, at risk from nature’s depletion rather than its wild superabun-dance, from over-cultivation rather than lack of cultivation. Recent human–animal narratives concentrate on claustrophobic and denaturalized environments, within which animal life – including that of the human animal – is captive and threatened. Chapter Five of What Animals Mean in the Fictions of Modernity: "With remarkable suddenness, this faith in the boundlessness of non-human nature loses authority in the second half of the twentieth century and is replaced by ubiquitous images of a diminished and fragile world.
