The Iguanodon’s Horn – review

As children, we’re all told the same story about the scientific evolution of Iguanodon, one of the earliest-named dinosaurs – how it went from a whale-sized lizard (some kind of ‘cetiosaur’, if you will. OK, not that), to a mono-horned quadruped, to a tail-dragging thumbs-upping tripod, to the mean and muscular, mostly quadrupedal but facultatively bipedal, intimidatingly brutish beast we know today. Along the way, we’re typically encouraged to have a good old chuckle at just how wrong people got it in the past. That Richard Owen – what a silly man he was. So, is this just another book telling that same story? Well, yes and no. The Iguanodon’s Horn adds substantially to the familiar narrative, filling young readers in on the Dinosaur Renaissance and onwards to the John Conwaygeddon we are currently all living through.

Written and illustrated by Sean Rubin and published by Clarion Books (i.e. HarperCollins), The Iguandon’s Horn is conceptually quite similar to The Tyrannosaur’s Feathers in that it tracks the history of reconstructions of a single genus (we’ll conveniently ignore Iguanodon‘s taxonomic history for a moment). Like The Tyrannosaur’s Feathers, this includes a section on modern day, speculative reconstructions. The Iguanodon’s Horn mostly differs from TTF in its broader discussion of movements and trends in palaeoart. The fact that Iguanodon has been known that bit longer allows Rubin to start at the very beginning of palaeo-reconstruction, with its swirling seas and draconic beasties, before continuing on to Crystal Palace, Louis Dollo and beyond. Even in the immediate post-Dollo era, the book’s view widens to encompass Zallinger and Knight’s highly reptilian, swampy icons, and in the Renaissance era Ostrom, Bakker and Deinonychus enter the picture.

In places, it does feel as if the Iguanodon focus is lost a little – for example, while the Zallinger/Knight era illustration superbly apes a Neave Parker or Burian-like Iguanodon, neither artist is mentioned. Zallinger and Knight are mentioned, but they aren’t really the artists that first come to mind when one thinks of Iguanodon reconstructions of that era, what with their focus on American animals. Similarly, the emphasis on Ostrom and Bakker for the Renaissance era unfairly ignores David Norman’s work, which was instrumental in forming our modern view of the animal. One could argue that squeezing in all the relevant mentions in a book like this (aimed at kids as it is) is quite impossible, but given the specific focus on Iguanodon, the unduly American narrative at that stage feels a little bit off.

That said, the book is superb in presenting the science of dinosaur reconstruction as being an ever-evolving process, with experts responding and changing their views as new evidence comes to life, and one that doesn’t have an ‘end point’ where we are finally the ones with the correct view. Rubin can sometimes be a little negative about efforts made in the past (referring to the Crystal Palace Iguanodon as “totally inaccurate” feels unfair, given how incredibly accurate they in fact were given the scanty evidence available), but the narrative overall is a positive one about ever-changing views in the light of discovery. In other words, the scientific process. Teaching kids about that can only ever be a good thing.

Besides which, I’ve hardly mentioned the illustrations yet. The artwork is endlessly charming and beautiful throughout, packed with loving homages to palaeoart of the past and present (and I appreciated the appendix that explains it all, for people out there who might not be as well versed in it as our readers). The historically-styled reconstructions are absolutely spot on, and the illustrations that lead from one page to another contribute to the fun sense of progression. You’ll note an excellent attention to detail in the anatomy of the animals, as well, even if they are stylised – for example, the transition from four-clawed Iguanodon to three-clawed in the Modern Age.

In all, much as with The Tyrannosaur’s Feathers, this is a really excellent book to give to today’s child dinosaur enthusiasts – an effective update of the ‘look how far we’ve come’ story that we all grew up with. While the focus may be a little off in places, that’s only in the context of looking at Iguanodon specifically. As a broader, highly succinct and gloriously illustrated book on the history of palaeoart for kids, it’s hard to beat.