The language of animals

Ptolemy II was gifted a baby elephant that learned to speak Greek, an extraordinary phenomenon, because it was considered evident that the only language pachyderms understood was Hindi. The consul Lucian witnessed an elephant that had learned to write with its trunk “I myself have written this.”I don't know if Descartes was aware of it, but in a letter he wrote on November 1, 1644, he assured that monkeys could speak if they wanted to, but that they prefer to remain silent so that no one would make them work.There was a time – the fabulist Babrius testifies to this – without mistrust, in which all living creatures could speak and were familiar with the words we use to communicate. Even the pine trees, the laurels, or the reeds spoke. “Then, everything grew from the Earth, which asked for nothing in return, and camaraderie prevailed between gods and mortals.” It is a fact, Plutarch confirms, that at that time everyone spoke. And not only did they speak. Aristophanes the Grammarian assures that elephants fought with men for the love of maidens, that even a serpent fell passionately in love with a girl from Aetolia, and that dolphins and seals flirted with Mediterranean youths.Obviously, if everyone spoke, everyone could be indiscreet. When King Midas's barber discovered that the monarch had donkey ears, unable to keep silent, he dug a hole in the sand and shouted the secret into it. However, some reeds grew over the hole, and the wind, as it rocked them, spread the secret everywhere.I don't know when nature decided to stop talking to us, but the following fable suggests that in the Middle Ages, the ancient times were still remembered.Once upon a time, in the city of Edirne, there was a sultan who had no other friend than his camel. Only to him did he open his heart to make him confidant of his worries. Men interested him hardly at all. One night he dreamed he was talking to him and, upon waking, decided to give the richest province of the empire to whoever truly taught his camel to speak. It wasn't long before a long line of masters in the art of teaching camels to speak formed at the palace gates. After glancing at them, he declared he was willing to behead anyone who failed in the attempt. Immediately, they all vanished.—Oh! If you could tell me what you're thinking! —the sultan said to the camel.This wish reached Ali, a young pickpocket who was serving time for his misdeeds in a dungeon, who did not hesitate to present his candidacy as master of the camels.When the sultan saw him, dirty and half-naked, he distrusted him.—Do you know that if you cheat on me, you'll lose your head?—Oh, Almighty Lord! —exclaimed Ali as he prostrated himself—. For what reason would I risk my head, if I only have one? All my family, since the time of my great-great-great-grandfathers, have been dedicated to taming camels. And I can assure you, seeing yours, that in five years it will know how to speak clearly.—Five years?—Perhaps a human learns to speak before three? An animal takes a little longer.The sultan ordered Ali to be dressed in the finest robes. He granted him the richest of his provinces and ordered that after five years the camel be returned to him in condition to converse with him.Alí asked for permission to visit his parents before undertaking the task.At his home he was met with perplexity.—You know very well —his father told him— that in five, ten, or fifty years you will not manage to teach a camel a single word.—What a pity about your head! —his sister lamented.—Insensate! —the mother reproached him, covering him with kisses and tears.—You love me, and that's why you're worried, but calm down —Ali told them—. Many things can happen in five years. The sultan, or the camel, or I myself could die. Five years is 1,826 days that I will spend entirely outside of prison, living like a king. What poor person has the opportunity to live comfortably for so many days of their life?I wouldn't want to discourage anyone, but, if we follow literature, it seems easier to learn to understand the language of animals than to teach them to master ours. In Andanzas y prodigios de Ben-Sirá it is assured that human knowledge culminates in the interpretation of the languages of palm trees, angels, and foxes. Perhaps palm trees have their own Homer. The ancients could understand their stories, but we can no longer guarantee the veracity of the murmur that we can understand from their words.