Playing with an Octopus
On a rainy Wednesday we went to the NC Aquarium on Emerald Isle. Ho hum-- until I got swept off my feet by an octopus. He wanted to play. No wonder: he was alone in a small tank, quiet and contracted when I first looked at him. I pressed an index finger to the thick glass of his tank. After a while, he moved close to it, with a big eye `seemingly staring at my finger tip. Was he curious? I moved my finger tip, wondering if he would follow it with his eye or his body. Nothing happened. I tried tapping on the glass at various places. No response. But when I started to move away, swiftly but smoothly he moved high up in the tank and spread his tentacles. He was bigger than I had expected - but I opened my hand and spread my fingers as wide as I could, but still less than half the length of his tentacles. I tried moving my palm over the glass. He dropped to the bottom of the tank and changed into his purplish camouflage. ,He showed no interest in play, even though I ran my extended palm over the surface of the glass, tapped on it, and on my knees tried to Make eye contact with him,
I was about to give up when he once again swooped to the top of the tank, extended his tentacles and weaved their fine pointed ends gently, delicately as if to some rhythm I could not hear. I followed his lead, and spread and wiggled my fingers in a crude imitation of his, He moved to my right and rearranged his tentacles. Again I followed lead and did the best I could to match his movements. I felt as if I were an ill-trained player rehearsing a symphony that he would conduct, All I could do was follow his lead as best I could.; perhaps he would find some way to cover my ineptitude and deficiencies. He knew best,
This went on for some minutes, as I gradually learned the lesion he wanted to trach me: If you try to control my movements, you will get nowhere; just follow my lead and we will play joyously together.
--
If this seems implausible to you, or if you think we can understand what it is to be human without understanding animals such as the octopus, you must read Sy Montgomery’s The Soul of an Octopus.
On a rainy Wednesday we went to the NC Aquarium on Emerald Isle. Ho hum-- until I got swept off my feet by an octopus. He wanted to play. No wonder: he was alone in a small tank, quiet and contracted when I first looked at him. I pressed an index finger to the thick glass of his tank. After a while, he moved close to it, with a big eye `seemingly staring at my finger tip. Was he curious? I moved my finger tip, wondering if he would follow it with his eye or his body. Nothing happened. I tried tapping on the glass at various places. No response. But when I started to move away, swiftly but smoothly he moved high up in the tank and spread his tentacles. He was bigger than I had expected - but I opened my hand and spread my fingers as wide as I could, but still less than half the length of his tentacles. I tried moving my palm over the glass. He dropped to the bottom of the tank and changed into his purplish camouflage. ,He showed no interest in play, even though I ran my extended palm over the surface of the glass, tapped on it, and on my knees tried to Make eye contact with him,
I was about to give up when he once again swooped to the top of the tank, extended his tentacles and weaved their fine pointed ends gently, delicately as if to some rhythm I could not hear. I followed his lead, and spread and wiggled my fingers in a crude imitation of his, He moved to my right and rearranged his tentacles. Again I followed lead and did the best I could to match his movements. I felt as if I were an ill-trained player rehearsing a symphony that he would conduct, All I could do was follow his lead as best I could.; perhaps he would find some way to cover my ineptitude and deficiencies. He knew best,
This went on for some minutes, as I gradually learned the lesion he wanted to trach me: If you try to control my movements, you will get nowhere; just follow my lead and we will play joyously together.
--
If this seems implausible to you, or if you think we can understand what it is to be human without understanding animals such as the octopus, you must read Sy Montgomery’s The Soul of an Octopus.
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