The Plight of the Pleistocene Poet

I can't believe I didn't think of it at the time. During Glendon's session on Art & Science last weekend he asked the audience for specific examples of how art & science influenced each other. A few examples from modern science fiction films came to my mind but I forgot the most obvious example of all; cave art! The paintings made by ancient humans are not only beautiful but reveal details about extinct creatures as they were in life, thus being of value both as art and objects of scientific inquiry.

But what about other forms of art? How far back does poetry date? I do not have an actual answer, but an 1883 article called "The Evolution of Thought" from Overland Monthly and Out West Magazine imaginatively reconstructs the difficulties a Pleistocene poet would have;

How primitive and natural is the whole scene! From afar echoes the loud roar of the Mastodons. Up in the trees the Syvanteria minima are playfully skipping about. We can see a care-worn smile pass over the features of the poet, as he scribbles his noble thoughts for undying fame. Ah, little recks he who will read his verse! He scratches his matted and grizzled hair abstractedly, as he vainly rakes his brain for a happy rhyme. The loud squeals of the miserable little Pachytheriums disturb the flow of his poetic thoughts. Near by a Megalonyx is roaring and fighting with a yelling Mylodon. Yet the poet writes on, unconscious of all. Ah, what difficulties did not the Miocene poet grapple with and overcome! But man's indifference and apathy have limits. Suddenly a massive and unwieldy Megatherium pokes his head around the corner of the rock, and seeing the poet, makes a rush at him. Good poets, scarce even in the Miocene times, were regarded as a special luxury by all Megatheriums. But our poet has had many trials and has won much experience. He sighs wearily, hastily rolls up his parchment, pokes his burnt stick in his matted locks, ducks between the ponderous legs of the Megatherium, smiles sarcastically with his fingers to his nose at the same astonished beast, and before the perplexed Megatherium can reverse himself, is lost in the distance.