Unclassified/reclassified

Unclassified / Reclassified

I. You enter a room and you see this:

Your first impulses:

Find out what it is. Look for information with authority: a label, an accompanying text
Countering the feelings of thrill and intrigue with a desire for the rational understanding of the seen object

The label nearby explains that what you see is an Opah (lat. Lampris), also known as the moonfish, the sunfish, or the Jerusalem haddock, preserved in formaldehyde. The species lives in tropical to temperate waters of most oceans. They are compressed, discoid fish with bright colouring, and feed on squid and krill.

You’re still feeling intrigued by this newly discovered animal and decide to search further about it. You use the Internet to access its Wikipedia page. You find out that they maintain their eyes and brain at warmer than their bodies, a phenomenon called cranial endothermy, one they share with some species of sharks and tuna. They have a warm heart. They are becoming more and more popular in the seafood market. They are used by humans in sushi.

The intake of all the fresh facts does not silence the first feeling that the fish gave you. It does not alter your impression of it, not in the slightest. You leave the exhibited object and you ask yourself: what if you were to disregard authority information and stick to the subjective experience?

I tried to find an answer to this.

First, I thought, “know your enemy”. I would use Jürgen Habermas’ concept of “performative contradiction” to understand why we need such abstract, organized information about a being with a life. Habermas said that in order to destroy an ideology, one needs to use its very language in its critique. So I studied every curious animal that I encountered, but they all turned into ordinary members of Animalia at the end.

I then turned to the fabulous, only to find there are no Latin names for them, and very rarely one could find information about their geography, diet or behaviour. There appears to be a clear distinction between a “real” animal and a “fake”, “fantasy”, or “fabulous” one. However, I see them both, and I have impressions and feelings about them both. Not only that, but I seem to have the same type of feeling when encountering:

Might I add that the feeling I am talking about is best described by the following words: curiosity, horror, fascination, intrigue, excitement.

II.

You come upon Jorge Luis Borges’ essay, “The analytical language of John Wilkins”, and you discover the description of a Chinese encyclopaedia entitled “the Celestial Emporium of Benevolent Knowledge”, which contains animals divided into:

a) Those that belong to the emperor

b) Embalmed ones

c) Those that are trained

d) Suckling pigs

e) Mermaids

f) Fabulous ones

g) Stray dogs

h) Those that are included in this classification

i) Those that tremble as it they were mad

j) Innumerable ones

k) Those drawn with a very fine camel’s-hair brush

l) Etcetera

m) Those that have just broken the flower vase

n) Those that at a distance resemble flies

Your first impressions of this list could be:

What a peculiar collection of categories. It makes no sense.
Postmodern fiction, but in no way relevant to the real, scientific division of living beings: Kingdom, Phylum, Classes, Order, Families, Genus, Species.
Whereas most scientific classifications of animals are made according to visual criteria, this one rather refers to language.

You might even be tempted to make a thorough comparison of this list with the Animalia kingdom, for example.

The results of the comparison would not show more sense than the initial list.

• Clarification: when you see a cow, you think “cow”. The animal you see is not a cow. “Cow” is just a name given to it, in one language. The being you see is not aware of being “a cow” and thus will never be one.

It is us who built a giant wardrobe with a thousand shelves and drawers, to fit every living thing we see. We need to think outside the wardrobe now – or at least, looking at the number of beings that refuse classification, we need to build additional drawers. I suggest, however, letting them go free. Let’s return to that initial feeling.

It’s not that they don’t have scientific descriptions on labels on the jars they’re in, but that doesn’t explain my fascination for them in the slightest. They say:

Ophiodon elongatus
Gymnothorax mordax
Sarda chilensis
Hippoglossus hippoglossus
Scorpaenichthys marmoratus
Xiphias gladius

What I see is:

Two brothers lost at sea
A whole thing co-existing with a halved thing forever
A being with no room left to breathe
A being with no room to slither
Spirits in the dark, lit Hitchcock style
A simulacrum for the ocean nightlife

(brothers lost at sea)

I think we keep speculation open because of the feeling it creates. We undoubtedly can distinguish CGI from a photograph, if that is the case, but most times that is not the case. The impulse that leads us towards the unclassified animal, creature, monster is not a desire for knowledge but one for thrill.

Reaching this conclusion I then asked myself, what if every case – every creature – had its own classification, not to be shared with any other creature? Here are some examples.