James Gurney

Shipwrecked in the South Pacific, Arthur Denison and his young son Will find themselves rescued by dolphins and delivered to the lost island of Dinotopia in this gorgeously illustrated picture-book/novel. "A Land Apart from Time," according to the book's sub-title, Dinotopia is a hidden continent where dinosaurs never went extinct, are highly evolved and intelligent, and now live in a peaceful society together with the humans that have washed up on their shores over the centuries. Although show more their initial reaction is one of fear - Arthur, believing that he and Will are in danger, even strikes Bix, the gentle Protoceratops translator who later becomes their great friend, at the beginning of the story - eventually the Denisons adjust to life in this strange new world. They travel first to Waterfall City, where they spend a few years learning about Dinotopia, before they continue on to Canyon City, where Will trains become a Skybax rider - a human who rides the flying dinosaurs, Quetzalcoatlus Skybax - and Arthur becomes fascinated by the "world beneath" the canyons. Eventually Arthur sets off on a voyage into the subterranean world beneath Dinotopia, while Will continues his training. The two are reunited in the Dinotopian capital, Sauropolis, but the implication is that Arthur's further travels, only hinted at in the narrative here, will form the basis for the sequel, Dinotopia: The World Beneath.

Originally published in 1992, Dinotopia was an instant success, launching a series of children's novels set in its fantastic world, as well as two television series based upon it. It also started a trend in which extended picture-book/novels became (for a time) quite popular, with three more Dinotopia stories in this format, as well as Betty Ballantine's The Secret Oceans, and James Christensen's Voyage of the Basset. Although long aware of Dinotopia - I have owned an edition of the book for years - I never happened to pick it up until I ran across the new special edition put out recently by Calla Books. I'm glad I finally gave it a chance, as I found it an immensely engaging story, one which, with both text and image, drew me into its imaginative world. Part travelogue, part fantasy, part picture-book, it is all magic, and is sure to leave readers young and old wanting more. I enjoyed poring over the beautiful illustrations, enjoyed the story, and had no sooner finished than I wanted to start the sequel, which I will now have to track down. The special edition that I read contains additional material - an introduction by Michael Patrick Hearn, an afterword from author/artist James Gurney, including sketches and unused artwork - and makes the story available to readers once again. Recommended to all dinosaur lovers, young and old, and anyone who appreciates truly immersive works of fantasy. show less

Picking up almost where Dinotopia: A Land Apart From Time left off, Dinotopia: The World Beneath is the second over-sized illustrated novel about a lost island where dinosaurs survive and live in peace with those humans who have washed up on their shores. In this second installment of the saga, which sparked a series of fantasy novels for young readers, as well as two television programs, Arthur Denison heads back to the cavernous world underneath the island of Dinotopia, taking Bix the show more Protoceratops with him. His voyage of discovery reveals the truth about the ancient Dinotopian civilization of Poseidos - the inspiration for the legend of Atlantis - and sees him reemerging into the world above in the dangerous Rainy Basin. Here his narrative joins up with that of his son Will, a Skybax rider who has been accompanying a convoy through the territory of the deadly Tyrannosaurus Rex...

Although not really the equal of the first - it lacked that wonderful feeling of discovering a new and wholly magical world - this second volume devoted to the Denisons and their adventures in Dinotopia was still quite entertaining. I enjoyed following both Arthur and Will's stories, although I do feel that author/artist Gurney stumbled a bit, in bringing his two narrative strands together. It almost felt as if the story-line involving Will disappeared, once Arthur reemerged into the world above. Their paths crossed, and Will just seemed to disappear. Leaving that issue aside, I found the story here engaging, and the artwork - the real star of the show! - absolutely gorgeous. Dinosaur and fantasy-lovers alike will enjoy poring over the paintings and diagrams here, deriving hours of pleasure imagining themselves exploring the vistas opening before them, or riding the various prehistoric creatures and/or vehicles. Recommended to anyone who enjoyed the first Dinotopia book. show less

After a book that didn't live up to expectations, and a book that was an utter failure, Gurney has finally gotten back to the magic that defined the first Dinotopia.

First of all, let's talk about the art. I mentioned in my review of the last book, [b:Dinotopia: First Flight|144012|Dinotopia First Flight|James Gurney|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1363183156s/144012.jpg|138934], that I felt bad giving it one star because Gurney's art is always so good. While that's still true, the difference show more in quality between the art in that book, and the art in this one, is definitely noticeable to me now. The paintings in First Flight look so much rougher, and plainer, in comparison. While all of his art is great, you can definitely tell which paintings he went the extra mile for. They just have so much more detail, are more polished, and have fewer noticeable sketch lines. While there are a couple nice, big, full-spread paintings in First Flight, they all have at least some part of them that looks rough and lacks detail. There's no show stoppers like there were in the first book and here in Chandara. Beyond that, something is just wrong with the faces in First Flight. I mean, just look at the cover for a perfect example. It's not just human faces either. There are several paintings where the dinosaurs look oddly anthropomorphized in a way they never do in the other books. Their faces are human-like, the way they would be in some crappy Saturday morning cartoon show.

This book, in contrast, contains Gurney's best art in the entire series. Every page is a treasure. It even shows up the first book, which bears a lot of rough sketch marks itself. A side-effect of being first and of not knowing how successful it would become, I imagine.

The viewpoint is back to being first-person, using the same found journal framing device as the first book. I was so happy to see this finally return. I already mentioned why this works better for the series in my review for [b:Dinotopia: The World Beneath|144007|Dinotopia The World Beneath|James Gurney|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1172161796s/144007.jpg|138929], and beyond that I find Arthur to be the most interesting and likeable character, so it's nice to experience the world through his eyes again.

Narrative-wise, all of the advanced technology and Atlantis-esque nonsense from the previous two books is dropped entirely. It's only mentioned briefly in passing once. Instead, this book is about Arthur finally getting to visit Chandara, an isolationist desert culture on Dinotopia that rarely lets in visitors. This is what the previous two books should have been. There's no weird technology or long lost treasure. There's no cliche evil bad guy in a giant scorpion robot trying to kill all living dinosaurs because reasons. It's not trying to force conflict, adventure, and all the other standard ideas about what a story should be into a work where they don't belong, simply for the sake of a broader appeal. Instead, it sticks to the formula that worked so well for the first book. It's just our good friend Arthur Denison, the naturalist, doing what he does best--traveling through a new land, encountering new cultures, and documenting as he goes.

Because Gurney left out the ancient, advanced technology, and because Arthur is our narrator again, we finally get back to the amazing world-building of the first book. We've got street vendors who use the spikes on a dinosaur to hold fresh bread loaves that look like giant donuts. We've got skybax jousting. We've got a giant abacus strapped to the back of a dinosaur and an old man on top, creating an accounting partnership for the marketplace. We've got intricate drawings of the workings of a windmill. We've got songs written out in musical notation. We've got variations of the dinosaur alphabet. We've got Brachiosaurus fire-trucks, with details about how the pump works and what everything does. We've got two different schools of philosophy; one that wears spots and preaches a form of empiricism, one that wears lines and preaches a form of solipsism. We've got a village of people who shipwrecked, got their boats back with the help of the dinosaurs, cut them in half to form their homes, and believe that if Earth itself should ever "capsize" their ships will become whole again and sail them into the stars and keep them safe (unique religions! Yay!)

We've got a magic here that was sorely lacking in the previous two books. Gurney finally corrected a mistake that I have often made in my own writing--focusing on the big, high-concept ideas at the expense of the small details that actually matter. I don't care that there's an ancient cash of advanced technology and treasure. I don't care about some evil guy in a giant robot that wants to kill all dinosaurs. I care about people, culture, and relationships. I care about how these people shop, live, raise children, and coexist with creatures so different than themselves. I care about how Arthur is adapting to these new cultures and environments. How well is he fitting in? Do people like him there? Are they being kind to him? What surprises him? What doesn't? Without that stuff all the flash and bombast in the world is just going to fall completely flat, which is exactly what happened for two books in a row.

After reading the first Dinotopia, I was giddy with excitement at the prospect of three more books, before being plunged to the depths of disappointment. This book has lifted me back up again. I may not have gotten the four great Dinotopia books I was expecting, but at least I got two, and this one is even better than the first. show less

The World Beneath, sequel to the first beloved Dinotopia, has many of the things that made the first book so spectacular--namely amazing art, and and interesting world. This time around it even has a plot, unlike the first one which was essentially plot-less, although I would argue that it was to the book's benefit and that the plot here is to this book's detriment. More on that later.

It's a simple adventure story that steals heavily from the Atlantis myth. There's a labyrinth of caves show more underneath Dinotopia, where the dinosaurs sheltered themselves from the meteor that killed the rest of their kind billions of years ago. Nobody has really been down there since, as much cultural and religious mystery surrounds the place. That is, until Arthur Denison came along. Arthur went into the caves alone near the end of the first book, and was later joined by his dinosaur friend Bix who went in after him. They made some interesting discoveries during their very brief time in the world beneath, including a power source called sunstones, and wish to go back on a longer and better financed expedition.

So, why two fewer stars than the first book? The first Dinotopia was written in first-person in the style of journal entries, first from Arthur and then, while Arthur was in the world beneath, by his son. This worked very well, especially for a book where so much more space is taken up by pictures than by words. You could have a character tell us exactly how they were feeling without it seeming too forced, because that's what people do in journals, and you save a lot of space by doing so. It also added a feeling of authenticity to a story where the world-building, and your faith in it, was so important to its success. It made sense for Arthur to be writing down and drawing all the things he was seeing, because of who he is. It felt natural. Not only was every word imparting character by being through Arthur's viewpoint, but so was every picture, because they were also drawn by him. This is what's called good writing. Having your words do more than one thing--impart narrative, character, and world-building all at the same time.

This book is written in third-person, which has no such advantages or shortcuts. It only does one of the above things at a time, and 90% of the time it's just the narrative aspect. There's very little character, and very little world-building, and what world-building there is is terrible.

The narrative is not coming from any particular character's viewpoint, since it's written in omniscient, and there's so little mention of anyone's internal thoughts or feelings that it's a hair's breath away from being third-person objective. What I'm trying to say, ultimately, is that the chosen viewpoint and how it's utilized is a problem that undermines my suspension of disbelief. It all just feels a lot more fake, and more forced. It feels more like I'm just reading a kid's book with a clear agenda for its story (which is none too impressive) rather than organically stepping into a world without any agenda, which is the feeling the first book went for and absolutely nailed. Again, having a narrative as opposed to not having one is not always the right decision. Plot-less stories can be great, just like the first Dinotopia was. It's a good fit for the series, so it's a shame it was abandoned in favor of something more traditional.

Another huge suspension of disbelief problem is that the book jumps the shark on the technology and world-building front. Arthur and friends discover dinosaur mechs in the world beneath. I'll say that once more in case you missed it. They discover dinosaur mechs.

Giant steel contraptions, modeled after dinosaurs and other real creatures, that walk and move like the real thing, and are powered by sunstones. Now, even if you accept that sunstones are essentially a limitless power source, it's silly to think that these things could have been created without similar advancements anywhere else. They would require things like steel smelting using molds, differential gears, extremely complex hydraulics, and, apparently, computers complex enough not only to control their fine motor movements (the driver only has levers to choose which direction to go, and all the complexity of actually getting there is done by the robot's programming) but also to impart personality and to fulfill basic needs on its own, such as drinking water for internal cooling when it needs to.

Why are these component technologies not evident anywhere else? The only similarly advanced technology we see is a camera from, I assume, the same time period, since the pictures show the same robots in them. But the pictures look like they are from the 1840s when photography first started being a thing, and there are gas lamps in the same photo. Considering we, in modern times, still don't have complex walking tanks it's a bit silly that these two technologies are so far removed from each other in complexity, and that there's a distinct lack of any other technology from that time. There's no consistency whatsoever.

It would make far more sense to find those pictures on an ancient computer in high definition. I mean, they had computers. There's computers in the dino robots. Why aren't they using them to store their pictures? It's obviously playing into the Atlantis myth of ancient but advanced technology that barely makes sense, but a book that succeeded so much on solid world-building is an odd place for it, and feels like a total misstep to me. The narrative it adds is fine but it's also cliche and does nothing to impress. More importantly though, it's taking away from what was good about the first book in the process, and totally undermining the history of the very world Gurney crafted in such loving detail, which impacts the believability and logic of said world in the present.

How did a man with a degree in anthropology and such attention to detail the first time around mess this up so badly? I hate to think that he was simply doing it to appeal to a wider audience. Maybe he just wanted to draw some cool scifi imagery and to hell with logic. There's no way to know, but the book definitely suffers from these poor decisions no matter the original intent. Such a shame. show less