
HERE LIES JOHN TIPPET ENGLISHMAN KILLED BY TYRANNOSAURUS
10 SEPT., A.D. 1916
R. I. P.
–The reader discovers the fate of Tippet in The Land That Time Forgot, and quite possibly the greatest epitaph I’ve ever read.
When I was nine months old, I discovered dinosaurs. So my mother tells me, at least: it all started that fateful day Mam got me an illustrated book of prehistoric life. She recited the names to me as I sat transfixed, wide-eyed and mouth agape, at these incredible creatures. While I think every boy goes through a period of going dinosaur-crazy–and, no doubt, many a girl too–my obsession went a bit beyond the average. I could pronounce the taxonomy of dinosaurs before I could read their names. I recalled the various time periods species lived in before I could do simple maths. Yup, I was a precocious little scamp at the best of times.
It was natural, then, that I would want to read more about dinosaurs beyond the old textbooks and picturebooks: what about fiction? Too young to read, I started off with the classic dinosaur films: King Kong, 1 Million B.C., The Valley of Gwangi, When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth, the Rite of Spring sequence in Fantasia, to more modern examples like The Land Before Time, as well as the fairly decent 1970s adaptation of The Land That Time Forgot. Even films with only a tenuous link to dinosaurs like One of Our Dinosaurs Is Missing were part of my diet.
However, as soon as I could read at a sufficient level to tackle real books, I was introduced to a vast range of dinosaur fiction. My first dinosaur book was Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World (or, more properly, a children’s version which was actually rather faithful), and between the iconic Professor Challenger and the setting of Maple White Land, I knew this was what I want to read. Edgar Rice Burroughs wrote another great story of man meeting denizens of a younger earth: what better day than today, the 60th anniversary of his death, to discuss The Land That Time Forgot?
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