Vintage Dinosaur Art: The Doctor Who Dinosaur Book - Part 2

So it turns out that Doctor Who is quite popular - who'da thought? As such, there was much demand for a second instalment of The Doctor Who Dinosaur Book (1976), featuring everyone's favourite Doctor* - the Fourth Doctor, played by Tom Baker - wandering around and posing like a prat among dinosaur art faithfully traced from the pages of earlier books. I do hope you enjoy.

I didn't mention any thyreophorans last time - but they do feature in the book, so please allow me to rectify the situation forthwith. Spiny-flanked Blackgang Chine fibreglass dinosaur massacre survivor Polacanthus puts in an appearance here, in full-on, 1950s-style retro guise. This restoration is nothing at all like the one we'd see today - it resembles an alarmingly armed lizard of some sort, and doesn't have the stocky, flat-topped appearance that ankylosaurs are noted for. No wonder the Doctor looks so unimpressed. If only some properly wide-gauge ankylosaurs could pop along to cheer him up...

...Ah, excellent! As you can see, the Doc is tickled pink at the sight of these stout fellows, who represent the other end of the retro ankylosaur restoration spectrum (yes) - wide, yes, but also short-tailed, no-necked, and with legs shorter than their heads. Vintage restorations tended to conflate true Ankylosaurus, Edmontonia, and Scolosaurus, often under the guise of 'Palaeoscincus'. TDWDB does refer to this animal as 'Ankylosaurus', but the meld of characteristics is quite obvious here.

Ankylosaurus' contemporary Triceratops, meanwhile, suffers from a bizarrely huge and fat tail and perspective-related head issues (horns go where?). In fairness, that's only because the original - from Album of Dinosaurs, illustrated by Rod Ruth - also had these problems, and this is a pretty faithful copy. Mind you, Ruth also managed to insert his creatures into a superbly painted, lush, atmospheric backdrop, whereas these two Triceratops appear to be fighting in the Late Cretaceous equivalent of the Final Destination stage from Super Smash Bros. At least we can admire the tartan detailing on the Doctor's waistcoat. Mmm, tartan.

Following my last post, a few people (not least Gary Campbell in the comments) mentioned the 1974 Doctor Who serial Invasion of the Dinosaurs as something that might be worth a look in the near future. Incidentally (PLUG ALERT), I have already written about it over on Dave Hone's Guardian blog, so do check that out if you love adorable puppets, Madame Vastra, and an unsubtle disdain for London. For its part, TDWDB does feature an illustration that looks very much like a puppet, complete with a flexible join where the head's attached - namely, the above ichthyosaur. The source for this one isn't too obvious, although it is rather generic; any suggestions are welcome.

Before we leave the Mesozoic behind, it's definitely worth mentioning that TDWDB isn't free from that contemporary dinosaur book staple of allosaurs gnawing on the necks of completely helpless gigantic sauropods, who could quite easily roll over and crush the bastards. Alas, the poor dears suffered a terrible inferiority complex - since they lacked sharp claws and teeth, or spines protruding from their sides, they thought themselves completely hopeless in a fight. Tiny brains, you see. For whatever reason, sauropods are portrayed with oddly pointed teeth in this book...

...Including when they're dead. In spite of being a time traveller with a lifespan extending into millennia, the Doctor has never quite got around to finding out exactly what killed off all the (non-avian) dinosaurs. Therefore this book, alas, offers us only speculation - mentioning insatiable egg-eating mammals (imagine the farts!) and Bakker's Dinoflu Pandemic Hypothesis. Still, the Doctor does manage to rock up a little late and perch on a boulder, looking thoroughly depressed at the sight of giant skeletons and a landscape more featureless than the Lincolnshire district of South Holland.

Having delivered on its title and shown the Doctor and dinosaurs side-by-side, TDWDB decides to expand its remit and move beyond the K/Pg extinction. A number of important prehistoric representatives of the Age of Hairies show up, including the loveable giant sloth Megatherium (above). Given the animal's considerable size, it seems that the Doctor can add 'lifting impressively weighty timber' to his list of superhuman attributes. Cute though this is, I'd rather have seen the Doctor giving Megatherium a hug...or maybe even riding it. Someone make this happen, please.

And finally...the Doctor documents the evolution of the most terrible killer of them all. That's right...MAN. For, in suitably chauvinistic 1970s style, it is most definitely MAN. With a capital M (and A, and N). On a spread entitled 'AN ANIMAL CALLED MAN', he outlines why MAN is so dangerous:

"He can think better than any of his rivals. He lives in a group, and co-operates with his fellows. And he's a tool user...those clever paws of his can hold and shape things. Weapons, in particular. He began with clubs and spears - and in time developed weapons capable of destroying his own planet."

Now, you might scoff at the idea that any modern day weaponry - even every nuclear warhead in the world - could 'destroy the planet'. Irradiate it for millions of years and kill off most lifeforms, sure, but not destroy it completely. Of course, you forget that the Doctor has seen mankind in the future. In the future, blowing up a planet with a bomb the size of a briefcase will be quite trivial - although it'll only be done to stop marauding armies of Cybermen. Mark my words.

But I digress. Three whole spreads are devoted to stinking MAN, but at least we are treated to the sight of a nude primitive stabbing a Smilodon straight through the face (above). All that's missing is a dramatic geyser of blood, and we'd be in proper horrorshow territory. Great stuff.

Coming up next time: definitely something different!


*What do you mean, you like David Tennant best? Call yourself a geek? Pish.

Vintage Dinosaur Art: The Doctor Who Dinosaur Book

It's a very good day for those interested in palaeoart - its history, trends over time, the current consensus on restoring certain animals, and where it might be going. Firstly, there's Mark Witton's article in Palaeontology Online, in addition to one on the 'new' Spinosaurus on his own blog. Secondly, Darren Naish's latest blog post is also a look at the changing appearance of dinosaurs in art (what, again?).

Here at LITC, we like to think we do our bit in aiding public understanding of the history of palaeoart; in particular, how certain trends are adopted by illustrators perhaps less accustomed to drawing dinosaurs, frequently resulting in grievous errors being repeated ad nauseam. The best palaeoartists will often find that their very particular take on an animal will take on a life of its own, appearing all over the bleedin' shop until it becomes the de facto 'genuine' restoration. This week's book is an exemplar of these tendencies in palaeoart. It also has Tom Baker in it. "You have a woman's bottom, my lady!"

The Doctor Who Dinosaur Book (or at least, this incarnation of it) appeared in 1976, and was illustrated in rather accomplished fashion by George Underwood. Accomplished in terms of technique, that is; most of the animals are brazen copies of restorations from other books. If anything, the copies are a bit too good - as Niroot remarked when he had a look, there's a glaring disparity between the highly detailed, hyper-realistic look of the Bernard Robinson copies, and the more stylised appearance of the Rod Ruth copies.

It's all a little bit shameful. On the other hand, it's hard not to smile at a book that features the Doctor grinning while feeding an Apatosaurus.

The book's text (by Terrance Dicks) is written as if by the Time Lord himself, and Tom Baker's Fourth Doc (scarf and all) pops up in almost every scene - and not only as a handy scale bar. Minor perspective issues aside (is the Doctor standing in the swamp, there?), seeing the behatted extraterrestrial interacting with a highly Burianesque, wrinkletastic sauropod is superbly surreal. The whole book has a faintly unreal air about it, like Tom Baker's invaded a gallery of vintage palaeoart. Which is actually rather close to being a literal description.

Occasionally, the Doctor is content to just pose moodily while retro saurians mill about in the background, as if he took a holiday in Neave Parker's sketchbooks. All of the sauropods in TDWDB adhere rigidly to the 'great fossil lizard' stereotypes of old, dragging their tails about, looking grumpy and sporting heads that indicate a lack of decent reference material. I'm enjoying the pastry dish crust on that Diplodocus, though.

Speaking of nondescript heads, this Brachiosaurus begins reasonably well (lengthy forelimbs, upward-sloping back; check and check), but for some reason is topped off with a rubbish, nondescript nubbin. To illustrate the animal's size, the Doctor is reduced to miniature size...not for the last time.

Those hankering for close-ups of Tom Baker's curly mop and rictus grins shouldn't fret, though - there are plenty of glorious close-ups to be had, as the Doctor gets a bit more hands-on with various angry reptiles. Here, the nefarious alien has snatched a Protoceratops egg from the nest, attracting the attention of a very squat, angry parent.

In perhaps the best of all the plates in this book, the Doctor actually grabs a dinosaur by the throat and tail in order to, I'm sure, inspect it more closely (and definitely not to wring its neck, pulp its remains and sell it to a Gallifreyan kebab outlet). It's scarce wonder that the Doctor looks so baffled here - while this creature is ostensibly Compsognathus, it seems to have morphed into some sort of lithe, bipedal lizard with four (count 'em) fingers and splayed limbs. This basically contradicts everything known about Compsognathus anatomy (noted as being highly birdlike even in the 19th century), but hey. There's no arguing with a centuries-old interloper in dashing costume.

Bigger and badder theropods pop up, too - they'd definitely be salivating over a bite-size intergalactic hero, if only their poses weren't strictly limited by the dinosaur books the artist found in the local library. Sexy Rexy (above) is a dead ringer for Rod Ruth's cover illustration for Album of Dinosaurs. You'll have to forgive me for missing the head off - but on the other hand, if you've seen Ruth's work, you already know what it looks like.

Everyone's favourite brontosaur botherer, Allosaurus, makes an appearance too - but this time, the animal's a Bernard Robinson knock-off. As already noted, Robinson's highly detailed style, meticulously detailed down to the last tiny scale, contrasts markedly with Ruth's, which gives this book a disjointed feel.

The Doctor, meanwhile, is meant to be fleeing in terror. However (and as pointed out by Brian Engh on our Facebook page), the eyelines don't match up at all. All the same, I love the pop-eyed Tom Baker look going on here. Classic stuff.

And finally (for now)...not all of the plates in this book feature the Doctor. Occasionally, TDWDB becomes just another 1970s dinosaur book - which is to say, filled with animals of highly questionable anatomy. While the basic shape of the above beast makes it clear that it's supposed to be an ornithomimosaur, the indie kid stick-thin legs, bizarre plantigrade-but-not feet, and tiny, creepy doll hands are strange indeed. It's Struthiomimus as constructed from bargain bin spare parts, and it's too baffling to even begin to point out where it's going wrong. It's just a perfect whole of wrongness that defies your nerdy pedantry. And that's a tyrannosaur clambering down a sandbank on the right, by the way.

Next week: more from this (if there's call for it), otherwise - something else!