A classic case study in how the course of scientific advancement can run anything but smooth.
In the late 19th century, renowned paleontologist Othniel C. Marsh announced the discovery of scattered bones belonging to a sauropod he dubbed “Apatosaurus,” or “deceptive lizard.” At nearly the same time rival bone hunter Edward D. Cope proclaimed a similar find to be fossils of “Brontosaurus,” meaning “thunder lizard.” A later researcher’s determination that both actually belonged to the same genus touched off a century-long controversy, since, as Albee writes, scientific practice gives naming rights to the first finder. So even though “Brontosaurus was catchier,” and went on to become the common name with a “dino-dazzled” public, it fell out of official use. Until 2015, that is, when further discoveries led many researchers to change their minds and announce that the two actually were different dinosaurs. While laying out the bones of the kerfuffle with a fine sense of drama, the author also fleshes out her story with revealing observations about the evolution of our whole understanding of sauropod anatomy. Along the way she gives proper credit to Marsh’s original Sioux informants, as does Hsu in a period scene placed amid views of dinos, fossil bones, and skeletons, and racially diverse groups of modern museum visitors.
A cheery glimpse of science in action, warts and all.
—Kirkus Reviews
