Soul
of an Octopus
A
Surprising Exploration into the Wonder of Consciousness
By Sy Montgomery
Here’s a sweet read written by a mesmerizing storyteller who
spins a true novel all about a sea creature that I discovered I knew very
little about. This book entertains with so
much interesting information that surprises. The octopus lives an intriguing presence
in the oceans, and in our Puget Sound.
The author studies octopus in the wild as well as in
captivity primarily at the New England Aquarium in Boston, and also at our
Seattle Aquarium, and the Vancouver Aquarium in British Columbia. Most surprising to me is the personal
connection she made with particular octopuses who they named Octavia, Kali,
Athena, and young Karma. How each of
these beautiful beings demonstrated real intelligence and unique personalities
was described vividly and with strong feeling by the author.
We’re treated to glimpses into the great work the Aquariums
are doing, and especially what was featured at our Seattle Aquarium. It was so fun to read about Seattle’s Octopus
Symposium and the Octopus Blind Date events they’d had, as well as exciting descriptions
of their work studying the wild octopus in the Puget Sound.
Sy Montgomery is a naturalist, documentary scriptwriter, and
author of 20 acclaimed nonfiction books.
She’s been presented with Lifetime achievement awards from the Humane
Society and the New England Booksellers association. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband
and the many animals they care for.
She’s said, “I think that animals teach compassion.”
Here’s a taste of the author’s passionate writing. She’s relating her thoughts of the meeting of
the wet and dry worlds while her hands and Octavia’s arms intertwine
emotionally at the Aquarium. Octopuses
enjoy time exploring through touch this way.
“In the sea, perhaps, time itself is slowed by the water’s
weight and viscosity. Even with just my
hands in (the octopuses) Kali or Octavia’s tank, time proceeds at a different
pace. Perhaps, I muse, this is the pace
at which the Creator thinks, in this weighty, graceful, liquid manner – like
blood flows, not like synapses fire.
Above the surface, we move and think like wiggly children, or like teens
who twitch away at their computer-phones, multitasking but never focusing. But the ocean forces you to move more slowly,
more purposefully, and yet more pliantly.
By entering it, you are bathed in a grace and power you don’t experience
in air. . . . To dive beneath the surface feels like entering the Earth’s vast,
dreaming subconscious, submitting to its depth, its currents, its pressure, is
both humbling and freezing.”
