Stunning, Sensual Illustrations From The World's First Encyclopedia of Octopus and Squid Wonders from the Ocean Depths – The Marginalian

“When we pet an octopus, it's easy to fall into a state of thought,” naturalist Sy Montgomery wrote in his fascinating investigation into how Earth's most mysterious creature illuminates the wonders of consciousness. “To share this moment of deep peace with another human being, especially one as different from us as an octopus, is a humbling privilege … a link to universal consciousness.”
A century before him, and decades before the great marine biologist, conservation pioneer, and science poet Rachel Carson invited popular thought under the sea for the first time by using the scientific valve – the thought that caused the natural movement – a German marine biologist. Carl Chun (October 1, 1852–April 11, 1914) led a pioneering deep-sea expedition that disproved, in a most surprising discovery, the long-held belief that life could not exist below 300 fathoms.

In the summer of 1898, Chun and his team began what is known as Valdivia trip, dropping below 500 fathom – in depth led by the British Importer the expedition, which laid the foundation of oceanography a hundred years ago, failed to reach – and appeared eight months later with wonders beyond the most dangerous human imaginations and bold scientific speculations, the most strange and otherworldly creatures even in the wonderful world of Jules Verne: bioluminescent fish cosmoses, black deer wandering without deep vision, supernovae of crimson, brilliant and sharp and shiny wonders that seemed to belong to others the “races” Whitman had in mind when he thought of “the world under the sea.”

Chun spent the rest of his life bringing the astonishing world attention to the mysterious wonderland he had discovered, in twenty-four volumes of intense detail, some with arresting, almost sensual illustrations by the painter Friedrich Wilhelm Winter – no more arresting than the one found in the treasure of 1910. Cephalopod Atlasextant copy digitized by the good Biodiversity library.

Among the wonderful, provocative winter images – which I restored and made available as prints, benefiting Greenpeace and their inspired effort to protect the increasingly invaded habitats of these living wonders – is one of a creature that Chun was the first to describe: a small, black cephalopod with branchial hearts and a luminous gonad that appears to glow in the abdomen. He named it Vampyroteuthis infernalis“vampire squid from hell.”


















Complete with a moving primer on what makes octopus intelligence so surprising and a case of the little guy's gun against eating octopuses (I'm going to take a PSA opportunity here to remind people that “octopus” comes from Greek, not Latin; so the correct plural is “octopus,” not “octopi”), and I'm back to the British natural history sketch from Sarah's Octopus. from the previous century, the classic French botanical and zoological paintings of Paul Sougy from the next century, and Sy Montgomery's lovely modern meditations on how to be a beautiful creature.



