100 books like If Nietzsche Were a Narwhal

For a novel on the list, I have only read once, and a long time ago, I still keep thinking about this. It asks: Can we learn about the universe without first learning about ourselves?

It also goes into the limits of science. There are simply things science cannot tell us. The planet’s colloid sea is nonlinear, the math unsolvable, and the alien is potentially hostile. I choose to believe the planet is attempting to heal some deep-forgotten hurt of the narrator. What is the purpose of bringing up a disastrous relationship? To heal or learn? Or perhaps the alien is simply toying with them?

I read it soon after changing my life's trajectory and attempting to be more peaceful, creative, contemplative, and less frantic or consumptive. I need to read this again.

This captivating book dismantles the prevalent notion that various facets of human intelligence are exclusive to our species.

Through a compelling array of examples spanning the animal kingdom, the author illuminates how skills like crafting tools, understanding mental perspectives, recognizing oneself, and even exhibiting cultural practices are not confined to humans and their nearest kin. Instead, these abilities have independently emerged in a diverse array of other creatures.

Consequently, the book serves as a stimulating challenge to the idea of human superiority, offering numerous indications that when an animal's environment demands it, evolution is inclined to yield intelligent behavior in a myriad of manifestations.

Cephalopods, which encompass creatures like squids, cuttlefish, and octopuses, stand as some of nature's most peculiar inhabitants.

Without bones or outer shells, they possess the remarkable ability to alter their shape, almost resembling characters from Gary Larson's extraterrestrial sketches. What sets them apart further is their exceptional intelligence, a trait not commonly associated with their mollusk cousins like snails and oysters.

Godfrey-Smith puts forth a compelling argument suggesting that intelligent life may have independently evolved multiple times right here on our home planet. He contemplates whether consciousness, once believed to be a solely human attribute, emerged early in the animal kingdom's evolutionary journey, serving as a vital mechanism for interpreting sensory information, evading predators, and sourcing sustenance.

In contrast to the other books that delve into a wide array of questions surrounding animal cognition, this book hones in on a specific mental capacity: the number sense.

The numerical system we're taught in school often stands as a symbol of human intellectual achievement. However, Can Fish Count? takes us on a captivating journey, exploring counting practices across various cultures, from the Incas and Mayans to the Warlpiri, then delving deep into prehistory to Neanderthals, and even examining a diverse range of creatures including primates, insects, and yes, fish.

Brian Butterworth's riveting research unveils a surprising truth: counting is a universal phenomenon, ingrained in our existence since the times of our Cambrian ancestors. It's highly probable that this holds true for other facets of animal intelligence as well; their origins may stretch back over an astounding 500 million years.

Zoey doesn’t have the time or the status to be a normal kid.

She wishes she could be an octopus as she needs the arms, eyes, camouflage skills, and protective defenses of such a creature just to survive the responsibilities of her family world. She doesn’t realize how valuable it is to have a teacher who believes in her, pressuring her to join the debate club in spite of the fact she does not feel like she belongs, until she finds her voice.

How many of us have had that one event or person push us to find our true potential. In spite of all the family responsibilities that tie her down, Zoey learns she can make a difference in the wider world around her.

Zoey, you inspire me!

I think this classic story, first appearing in 1869, needs to be on any cephalopod booklist! 

Whilst the terrifying monster is more giant squid/kraken, the futuristic submarine commanded by Captain Nemo is called Nautilus, named for a cephalopod cousin to the octopus. This sci-fi (at the time) adventure novel is full of evocative undersea images and is still a cracking read. 

Stories with unusual, original animal perspectives fascinate me, so I was hooked when Emma Geen’s character, Katherine, projects into endangered species as a way of researching various creatures.

She becomes a fox, bat, octopus, snake, and perhaps most weirdly, a spider. Each leap had unique joys and challenges. As a reader, I learnt to master tentacles, sonar, and web-spinning. The rich sensory details of each animal jump were extraordinary, and the research involved in making these imaginative leaps believable was impressive. I loved it.

I loved the wild Tasmanian setting of this novel and the interweaving of human and anthropomorphic voices. Reading from an egg-laden octopus perspective was fascinating, and I enjoyed the multi-layered approach of following both human and animal stories.

The post-surgery journey of a breast cancer survivor was touching and written in creative, sharp, and whimsical language. Gorgeous cover too!

This is one of those books that I almost wish I’d written, except no one but Nayler could have done it justice.

It starts with a discovery of potentially sentient octopuses, the scientist studying them, and the global corporation that controls her access and funding. From there, the story gets dizzying in scope: it spans countries and social classes, somehow managing to be a thriller while delving deep into zoology, climatology, neurology, the consequences of war and colonization, and the nature of consciousness itself—while still showing the wonder of this new-found species.

Everyone’s fate, terrifyingly, lies in the hands of this corporation that has its own motivations for studying the octopuses, unless they (and the octopuses themselves) can stop it.

Montgomery is one of my favorite non-fiction authors. She has written about her family’s pet pig, and she’s written about every creature, from hummingbirds and snakes to condors and pink dolphins.

But this book is, for me, one of the most eye-opening books I’ve ever read. It’s not a friendship/relationship in the same way as my other book recommendations, but Montgomery writes about a single octopus and its exploits in an aquarium. We learn just how smart and funny! octopuses are.

Also, because of this book, I cannot eat calamari anymore.