Lord of the Arctic

According to the author of this beautifully illustrated, hugely engaging book, if we were ever to choose a fellow mammal to serve as symbol for our time, then the polar bear would probably make any shortlist. Standing ten feet tall on their hind legs and weighing as much as a ton, the males are the world’s largest terrestrial predators and the only ones to seek human flesh actively. This extraordinary whale- and walrus-wrestling monster is proof positive that wildness persists on our planet, despite the onslaughts of the Anthropocene.

For all its nightmare-haunting power, however, the aspect of the polar bear that really makes it an icon of the age is its vulnerability. For it is uniquely susceptible to the effects of melted sea ice and its image is now relentlessly deployed to get across the threat of climate change.

It is this metaphoric and humanised version of the species which is the book’s key subject, and what Michael Engelhard emphasises is that the modern imagery draws upon 8,000 years of evolving preoccupations. Over that time the creature has been cast and recast as ‘food, toy, pet, trophy, status symbol, commodity, man-eating monster, spirit familiar, circus act, zoo superstar and political cause célèbre’.

One of the other major revelations is just how obsessed the public is still with this creature. Take the example of the hand-reared youngster called Knut, who was born in Berlin Zoo in 2006. Before he drowned in his own moat, which itself has the ring of a celebrity exit, ‘Knutmania’ involved the bear having his own registered trademark. When it was floated on the Berlin stock exchange shares in the zoo doubled in value overnight. Even four years after his untimely death people were still leaving, on the anniversary of his birthday, Knut’s favourites croissants by a bronze memorial erected in his honour.