The Music Of Dolphins

The Music of Dolphins is an examination of what it means to be human and the ways in which children like Mila (raised in the wild) or Shay (raised in the dark) challenge common conceptions of humanity. Mila is biologically human, but she shares many of the motivations, behaviors, and needs of a dolphin. She refuses dead fish, lives in the present moment, and communicates in squeaks and whistles. When the humans first take Mila, she looks at them with one eye at a time, and in the article is described as being “more animal than human” (4).

Mila does not see this aspect of herself as a negative thing, as it is all she has ever really known. However, when she realizes that she is different than other humans—and judged because of it—she feels torn between her desire to be like them and her need to return to the sea. Mila therefore seeks the approval of her doctors, who attempt to condition her out of believing she is a dolphin by saying things like, “Tell me, what are you? A girl or a dolphin?” (12). Mila comes to learn that progress toward being human is the goal: “Making progress is when I talk words. Making progress is when I write on the computer. Making progress is when I wear clothes. Making progress is when I sleep in a bed and eat the dead fish” (50). Still, this way of living seems strange and pointless to Mila, as she is used to the simple pleasures of the sea and of worrying only about finding food, drinking water, and resting. She asks Dr. Beck, “Each sunset, each wave is something to see once and never again. Is that not special too?” (61). Her increasingly abstract questions illustrate that she is indeed moving toward being more human, but this state is as transient as the ocean waves she misses.

Moreover, it is far from clear that Mila considers language’s ability to express complex ideas desirable, as it makes her increasingly aware of the injustice of her situation, as well as the more nebulous ways in which humans may find themselves constrained (e.g., through obsessing about the past and future, which language facilitates). Being kept in a locked room and studied like an animal teaches Mila that being human means being imprisoned, being judged, and being forced to change. She also sees that humans are constantly in a state of negativity: “Human anger, human fear, these things get in the way for humans to feel good” (141). In their attempts to make her more human, the doctors only dehumanize Mila, yet the role language plays in Mila’s arc suggests (ironically) that she in some sense needs this human tool to affirm that she prefers life with the dolphins. There is likewise irony in the fact that Mila asserts her human rights in order to reject human society; in this, as in its depiction of dolphin society, the novel touches on the question of why humans often limit their understanding of basic rights to a single species.    

Mila’s favorite thing about being human is music. When she first hears it, it moves her to tears, and soon she is composing her own songs on the recorder. She also starts to feel affection toward Justin, though she believes she is “not human enough” to ever really be with him (127). Mila brings both her music and her memories of human “family” back to the ocean, suggesting that she has made peace with both sides of her identity. Ultimately, the novel challenges the distinctions humans draw amongst themselves and between themselves and other species, suggesting that the positive aspects of humanity are universal.