20,000 Leagues Under Poseidos
SPOILER ALERT: Plot details for The World Beneath follow.
The World Beneath, James Gurney’s followup to the first Dinotopia, is a more thoughtful sequel than one would suspect at first blush. While the first book was more of a meandering exploration through that lost island, the sequel is structured more as a conventional adventure. Arthur is off to find the ancient, underwater city of Poseidos, while Will is assigned a Skybax mission in the Rainy Basin. These two plots inevitably intertwine through a thrilling climax by the end. This reversal of structure from the first book, however, does not cheapen the text, as it remains as enchanting and meditative as before.
A major theme in The World Beneath is the tension between technology and nature, between science and spirituality. Dinotopia is built upon the relationship shared by humans and dinosaurs. It’s a relationship that Will has attained through his partnership with his Skybax, Cirrus. His father’s interests, however, lie more with the great march of technology. Arthur’s scientific pursuits border on arrogance, for even though he is a witness to living, breathing fossils, he condescends to them as if they were outdated relics. Arthur seeks to go beyond dinosaurs, throwing his faith into machines.
The opening chapter is indicative of what lies ahead. Arthur has just invented a flying machine known as the “Dragoncopter,” which runs on steam and takes its design from the dragonfly. It’s a marvel to look at and Arthur has his son give it a test run. The copter, though, quickly loses altitude and crashes into the falls. Will is fortunately saved by his Skybax, who brings him back to Waterfall City. What follows is a scene captured on the book’s cover, where Will expresses a deep gratitude to his Skybax: “He had never been so glad to feel solid stone under his feet, nor so happy to greet his fellow creatures.” (12) The emphasis placed here is intentional, for it implies that through building a relationship with dinosaurs, humans can come away with a deeper appreciation of life. This is something which a machine cannot do. As Ambassador Bix remarks to Will about machines, “Wonderful as they are, they have no judgment of their own. No heart, no sense, no love for you.” (14)
Arthur starts an expedition to explore the undersea treasures of the lost city of Poseidos, which includes the powerful sunstones, the spiritual successors to the Atlantean crystals of Edgar Cayce. There’s a door in the World Beneath that can only be opened with a spiral key. Arthur holds one half and the other half is held by a new character, Oriana Nascava. The symbolism of two halves making a completed whole is apt. Oriana is the complete opposite of Arthur, at one with the spiritualism of Dinotopia. The natural conflict between the two produces one of the more interesting discussions in the book, but I’ll get to that later. The two other characters joining the expedition are the reliable Ambassador Bix and the unreliable Lee Crabb.
Even though Dinotopia is probably the most believable utopia ever imagined, Gurney wisely doesn’t shy away from showing its seedier side. There’s the colorful Black Fish Tavern, filled with “scalawags and scavengers” (35), where Crabb must gamble back their submersible, the Remora. The Remora is a vehicle worthy of Nemo’s Nautilus, with its crab-like claws, propeller, and fin. It is during the undersea moments that Gurney’s art really shines, consider one marvelous scene where a Kenosaurus pulls their ship into the watery depths.
Will’s mission, meanwhile, is to guide a convoy from Bonabba to the Rainy Basin, where they need the extract of horsetail tree to cure the ill hatchling, Stubbs. The only trouble being that this area is overrun with Tyrannosaurs, and the Skybaxes need to distract them while medicine is being retrieved. The Brachiosaurs joining them are covered in plated armor to prevent injury. The art depicting the encounter with the Tyrannosaurs is also delightful, with one scene where Will leaps from the jaws of a predator and onto his Skybax.
Dinotopia has always had this interesting spot in literature, where it could be both fantasy and science-fiction. In the undersea caverns, Gurney leans into this complication. On the fantasy side, there is the mystique of the cavern itself, with its crystalline stalactites and sunstone towers. Oriana sees visions of her ancestors, spiral ferns spring from black dust, and they find the statuette of Ogthar, the mythical king who was half-human and half-dinosaur. On the science-fiction side of things, there are mechanical dinosaurs which are powered by the sunstones. These machines have believable, almost steampunk designs, with one based off of a Triceratops and the other, an undersea Arthropod. Arthur marvels at their agility, at one point rudely saying to Bix, “Aren’t these better than dinosaurs?” (110).
The theme of the cavern is perception and how it differs from person to person. Crabb refers to the cave as a “devil dungeon” while Bix contests that caves must be respected, since they saved the dinosaurs from extinction. Oriana tries to bridge the two together, suggesting that both life and death exist here: “After passing through this darkness, one can emerge again as if being newly reborn” (91). This happens again when they spot a calcite formation. Arthur appreciates it as a purely scientific phenomenon, Crabb sees a cursed skull, while Oriana sees a mother surrounded by children. Through Gurney’s depiction of these visions, we see how small variations in light and shadow can greatly distort the same object. Makes you think.
The World Beneath also expresses a clear skepticism of machines. This is not to say that Dinotopia is Neo-Luddite or anti-technology, but that it warns us about the folly of blindly relying on machines to run our lives. Gurney keeps us aware of their limitations through the comedic mishaps in Bonabba, where Arthur’s mechanical dino, now having lost its head, runs madly through flowers gardens, knocking everything about. Machines made purely for service cannot think as humans and dinosaurs do.
Afterwards is the intellectual climax of the story, where Arthur and Oriana partake in an illuminating debate. Arthur sees these machines as the key to bringing back “a golden age to Dinotopia, an age without vulgarity and drudgery” (126). Oriana replies that the “golden age” is now: “No engineer ever invented anything as miraculous as a flower or an egg or a living dinosaur. It’s never drudgery to live among them” (126). Arthur counters that for all her talk of living with nature, she too is reliant on man-made inventions, such as the roof over her home or the shoes she wears to walk. Oriana acknowledges these advantages, but notes that they have come at a cost, “The shoes protected my feet, but also separated me from the touch of the grass. In the same way, the roof divides us from the stars” (126).
This debate is fun. Arthur makes the point that we can’t avoid technology. It’s an inescapable part of our lives and going back to nature is impractical. Oriana accepts this, but argues that we need not insulate ourselves entirely. The promise of technology can fool us into thinking that our current age is little more than a placeholder for a better future. And maybe it is, but with each passing decade, people still wax nostalgic for what has been lost. The present is not perfect, but there’s plenty to it that’s worthy of praise. It is an age of multitudes, where people can see whatever they bring into it.
Speaking of multitudes, carnivorous dinosaurs, all too often the frightful villains in fiction, earn themselves a moment of heroism. On their way to stop Lee Crabb from stealing the treasure of the Poseidos, Arthur, Bix, and Oriana run into two young Gigantosaur siblings. After Arthur frees one of their feet from some fallen logs, and the creature rewards him by bringing them to their father. They are then made the host of many carnivores who treat them with respect and invite them to see the hidden treasures. There they find that the Dinotopians inspired the cultures of the ancient world, from Egypt to China, while they also invented advanced tools like the camera. The ensuing finale remains Dinotopia’s most exciting, with a chase after the Crabb to the ocean. Arthur’s journal, however, is lost at sea, only to eventually turn up at a library where Gurney uncovers it.
If I were to have a criticism of the book, it’d be the budding romance between Arthur and Oriana. They’re both delightful characters, no doubt, but the affection feels a little too one-sided. At no point during the story did I get the impression that Oriana reciprocated any of Arthur’s feelings. She seemed to humor him at best, and at no point did I think she was ever in love. It’d have been one thing if their relationship developed in the later book, Journey To Chandara, but that text is more of a personal journey for Arthur.
Sequels can make or break a series. Following up a masterwork like the original Dinotopia would be no easy feat, but Gurney manages it with an almost inexhaustible imagination. Now, more than ever, we are in need of more tales like Dinotopia, which encourage us to avoid violence as the first solution, to consider perspectives other than our own, and to learn from the wisdom of the natural world.
Bibliography
Gurney, James. The World Beneath. 12, 14, 35, 91, 110, 126.
