Sam Kriss

The art of extinction

There is more to paleoart than kitsch and tat. It tells us about who we are – and were

Where previous dinosaurs had been colossal but slightly shapeless bags of flesh, these creatures are scrawny, all sinews and coiled muscle: ‘Dryptosaurus (Leaping Laelaps)’, 1897, by Charles R. Knight. Credit: The Picture Art Collection / Alamy 
issue 11 June 2022

In one of Italo Calvino’s fables, a single dinosaur survives the extinction of his kind. After a few centuries in hiding, he comes out to discover that the world has changed. The ‘New Ones’ who have taken over the planet are still terrified of dinosaurs; they tell each other terrifying stories about the time when the reptiles ruled the world, or secretly fantasise about being brutalised by them, but they don’t recognise the survivor for what he really is. They no longer know what a dinosaur looks like. The newcomer is given a name – the Ugly One – and invited into their society. Eventually, they find a heap of dinosaur bones in a melting glacier, and take their new comrade to gawp at it. ‘If one of them had looked from the skeleton to me,’ the Ugly One reflects, ‘he would have realised at once that we were identical.

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