When I was but a wee lass in the early 1990's, I lusted after what I thought would be the be-all and end-all of prehistoric animal books: The Macmillan Illustrated Encyclopedia of DINOSAURS and Prehistoric Animals. The many, many authors - including our old friend Dougal Dixon - are listed on the front cover. The illustrators are Colin Newman, Steve Kirk, Malcolm Ellis, Graham Allen, Andrew Robinson, Andrew Wheatcroft, Steve Holden, Vana Haggerty, and "Grundy & Northedge".
It's a little hard to explain the magnitude of this book in my imagination at the time. Information about prehistoric creatures wasn't as readily available as it is today (remember, the very idea of using a computer for anything other than writing essays and playing "Tetris" was absurd). I associate this book with the crazy times just after "Jurassic Park" - I don't even recall buying this book (at, according to the lovingly preserved price tag, the Museum of Science gift shop for $24.95) until maybe 1996.
So imagine my amazement when I finally looked at the publication information this time: it's copyright 1988 by Marshall Editions Limited. In other words, as I've mentioned before, this is a book from that incredibly awkward time immediately after Bob Bakker published The Dinosaur Heresies (it has just occurred to me that every time I mentioned Heresies, I assume it doesn't need an introduction to the audience I've built up. I know you guys). The difference is that it is one of the few fully illustrated books from that time.
And the scope of the book is ambitious as hell: every fossil vertebrate found to date, given a loving life reconstruction. Naturally, the dinosaurs command all the attention, but we'll talk about them (well, technically most of them...) on Friday. They are, however, hardly the most interesting animals in the book. Honestly, even in 1988 there was already a ton of ink spilled on the new theories of dinosaurs -- and almost no popular natural history books explaining the strange fish you see before you on these pages. Really, this book often just made me more curious about animals I'd never heard of and frustrated because there was (and still is, frankly) little information to be found, and that's what we'll focus on today and Wednesday.
A word about the format of this book: it follows a format I've seen in some other natural history books: Two pages of full-color illustrations followed by two pages with maybe a paragraph or two of information about the animal, where and when it lived, what it ate, and (in an act of arguable redundancy) what it looked like. And this is sad, because some of the animals demand to be elaborated upon.
None more than Desmostylus. Holy cow, look at that thing! The book helpfully explains that "it must have looked and acted like a modern hippo", when what I really long for is a skeletal study with a detail of that strange head and some idea of what (if any) modern animal it's related to.
The same goes for the Prorastomus, simply identified as an "early Sirenian". The book also notes that this reconstruction is mostly speculative, leading us to wonder why a manatee ancestor would have such a skinny tail and big burly hind legs. Really, I would love to see an updated field guide to fossil mammals, since some of them are begging for attention.
Like Thylacoleo. He's described here as a "marsupial lion". What that means is that he is a marsupial from Australia that converged onto big cats, much like the comparatively less obscure Thylacosmilus from South America and the remarkably dog-like Tasmanian Thylacene. Thylacoleo really did have sharp, fang-like incisors, though they probably weren't as goofy as they look here. What I'm wondering about here are those giant thumb-claws; it's like the real-life equivalent of all those fictional species on DeviantArt who have "Raptor claws" for some dang reason.
As for the real cats, I like how the famous Smilodon is just chillin', rocking a bad-ass lion mane. Eusmilus, the sabretooth above him, looks like he is ready to murder everyone.
Prehistoric mammals don't readily lend themselves to gaudy color schemes, since, all evidence from DeviantArt aside, there aren't many gaudy colorful mammals running around today (that were actually born that way, like with purple fur and such). The Macmillan Encyclopedia does what it can, though. This is Chapalmalania, who is described as a giant... raccoon. Because back in '88, there was still a lot of debate as to whether Panda Bears were indeed bears or some kind of giant raccoon. I have no idea where this leaves our poor StripeyBear today.
Often in the Encyclopedia, you'll have illustrations of a plethora of extinct animals that look nothing like their more familiar modern relatives and one or two that do. I'm glad they avoided that for the giraffes.
Here's your Semi-Requisite Early Horse Sequence.
And a pair of "shovel-tuskers". I've always found these elephants fascinating, and I regret not giving them a proper tribute when the opportunity came up earlier this year.
Now, up until this point the paintings have been in a fairly consistent style.
But then there is a sudden art shift when we hit the primates. Who knows why, and from the look of it, that Propliopithecus in the upper-right corner thinks of nothing but sex and violence all day.
Been a little unusually mammal-biased today, haven't I? Well, I'll focus on a wider variety of animals in the next post. Until then, think of nothing but sex and violence all day; it's and old primate tradition after all.
On to Part Two!
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Sketch of the Day!
Random coffeeshop animals:
I know next to nothing about early mammals. There, I was honest. I can lecture you into oblivion when it comes to the natural history of birds (thank you, Gregory S. Paul and your beautifully illustrated doorstopper), but when it comes to our furry little titty-sucking (record-scratch sound effect)
Concerned Parent: "OH MY GOD SHE DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT CHILDREN COVER YOUR EYES WAAAARRRGAAAARBLLLLZ!!!!!"
Yes I did just say that. Because we are going to be talking about mammals. And I know this is going to blow your mind if you are the kind of person who thinks the split-second sight of a breast is going to corrupt your children (even after they spent the better portion of their babyhood attached to one), but the one defining characteristic of mammals, the one thing that separates us from all other animals, it isn't the hair, it isn't the live-bearing of our young, it is the mammary glands. Deal with it.
Aaaaa-nyway, when it comes to our furry, titty-sucking forebears, I am totally clueless. This is not entirely for lack of trying: There are hardly any good books at all about "proto-mammals" (which I know is an old term, but a lot of people grew up with seeing it when this subject was ever brought up, so I'm only using it so more people will know WTF I'm talking about). Most people have only ever heard of Dimetrodon and the majority of them think that thing is a dinosaur anyway, because if your skeleton is on display at Harvard Museum of Natural History, you're a dinosaur, right? (No, really. I have overheard as much.)
Enter our old friend John C. McLoughlin, he of the unique and often very nice pen and ink illustrations and, err, equally unique ideas about the anatomy and behavior of prehistoric creatures. Published in 1980 by Viking, in the wake of the far, far better-known The Archosauria, The Synapsida is an attempt to tell the complete story of mammals. Turns out it's a very interesting story, though unfortunately I am unable to call B.S. or not on some of McLoughlin's claims (though it turns out that the "Walking With Whatever" writers weren't the first to come up with venomous synapsids).
But what we're really here for are the illustrations. And McLoughlin's draftsmanship is phenomenal, even when the animals he is drawing aren't the prettiest things:
Venyucovia here might give us a hint as to why you don't see scads of kid's books, stuffed animals, big Hollywood movies, and cartoons of questionable educational content about Synapsids. By now, we know how to make dinosaurs "cute", what the heck do you do with this thing?
Undaunted, McLoughlin introduces us to all the strange creatures at the base of our family tree. I mean it when I say ALL of them. His history of mammals starts with early Chordates and doesn't stop until we hit humans. And humans, by the way, are bastards.
Really, that's the strangest thing in the book. McLoughlin wears his politics right on his sleeve, and seems almost ashamed that the majestic beasts he chronicles in the book gave rise to us. Here's an example of how jarring this can get:
Subtlety is not one of McLoughlin's strong suites. There's another odd moment where he describes the fascinating story of the Pelycosaur, Cotylorhynchus, the world's first very large herbivorous four-legged animal. It was able to survive in a colder climate than any of the animals that could have preyed on it. The animal in question is a big, monstrously fat critter with a disproportionately tiny head and nothing at all to worry about. McLoughlin invites America to look at the horrors of our inevitably morbidly obese future when viewing his illustration of the unsuspecting beast.
Um... so, Dimetrodon!
Aww, look how ugly-cute he is! Here with Edaphosaurus who, it turns out, isn't a close relative at all (though they are both Pelycosaurs)! See, I never knew that because my childhood books couldn't be bothered to spend more than two pages on these guys.
Speaking of ugly-cute, here is a confusingly-named Dromosaur (not to be confused with those more famous guys with the fluffy feathers and the large talons). McLoughlin informs us that this little fellow has been discovered preserved in a sleeping position with his tail wrapped around his body. Given that McLoughlin was one of the first paleoartists to illustrate theropods with feathers, I'm honestly surprised he didn't give this guy a coat of fur.
Fact is, fur doesn't appear at all until late in the book. Even then, all we get are a few whiskers at first:
Again, I don't know very much about these animals. I have no idea if there have been any skin impressions found from them. I can't begin to guess where hair would have first appeared on mammal-like creatures in the fossil record. It seems this Thrinaxodon would be a good candidate for being furry, so it's very strange to see McLoughlin restore him naked.
Or... maybe that's just how McLoughlin renders fur; through stippling? Take a look at this... animal... we'll call him Generic Cenozoic Critter:
Yeah.
All in all, The Synapsida is not the strange ride that is The Archosauria, but it is definitely a worthwhile read. You will, at the very least, learn about some very fascinating animals you may have otherwise never heard of.
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Feederwatch Friday! I forgot to do this last week, but I've been sick:
Rock Pigeon 1
Black-capped Chickadee 3
Tufted Titmouse 2
Red-breasted Nuthatch 1
White-breasted Nuthatch 2
Northern Cardinal 2
House Sparrow 25
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Festive Thing of the Day!
I sat down at the computer after setting up the TREE, covered in sap and bruises and scratches, when what to my wandering eye should appear but a Bad Santa Gallery! Numbers 7, 24, and 25 are my favorites. (Some NSFW ads.)
30 Photos Of Children Terrified Of Santa
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Sketch of the Day!
Here are doodles I drew while watching the Quincy Christmas Parade. And being violently sick (my sinuses are still painfully dry, but I am otherwise feeling much better).
