STEM to STEAM

In the Emergence of the Environmental Humanities by Robert S. Emmett and David E. the article introduces us to the idea that science may provide us solutions to environmental problems, but it is the humanities that pushes people to practice such solutions. 

When we think of the environment we think of the wilderness, and see nature as a separate entity from ourselves. And when we do imagine our relationship with the environment, it’s usually in the form of research and sciences or as a commodity. We commodify the environment by seeing it as recreation, resorts to visit rather than something to exist with and support. This creates emotional distance, and a lack of initiative for active change in habits even when science provides us with solutions to help aid the environment. The lack of urgency spreads when western culture faithfully practices hyper-independancy. One of the strongest tools to shift culture is through the power of the humanities. By creating art, whether that be through visual media or through writing, a narrative is being formed to persuade an audience to change.  As the reading says, “The crisis cannot be addressed solely by finding technological solutions to particular problems that are delivered “downstream” to a population of passive consumers.” 

Literature is where people learn compassion. Not technology, not science. Literature teaches empathy by immersing the reader in another’s perspectives, allowing them to interact with the environment that sometimes wouldn’t be otherwise accessible to them. It provides new ways of thinking, offering us narratives that include us as ecological citizens, rather than mortals separate from the animal kingdom. Because the environment has become heavily commercialized, with urban sprawl pushing us further away from the natural world, literature acts as a bridge where we can cross both worlds until we realize the bridge is connecting something we are already a part of.

My Dumb Foundling

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen sets the blueprint for many inspired mer-tales to come with countless adaptations and retellings. With its vivid imagery, and descriptive details of the colorful world in the deep ocean it’s hard not to get captivated with the world-building. This is the first instance this semester where I get to read in detail about a mermaid’s life underneath the sea, before they start assimilating to life on land. In this famous tale, the little mermaid is not only nameless, but voiceless for most of half of the story. She is infantilized throughout the story, whether it be because of her youth, and or because she has been silenced in trade for a chance of true love and a soul. The prince refers to her as “his little foundling” who dances for him in excruciating pain. He looks down on her again cloaked in affection, loving her “as one loves a dear, good child.” Um, yuck! The infantilization of the little mermaid reflects modern day humans and our view of the natural world. We see nature as things to conquer, as something to contain, as obstacles to subdue, but also simultaneously to look after… almost as if treating nature as a pet. Nature is treated as something separate from ourselves, and The Little Mermaid further supports these ideologies with its themes. The little mermaid similar to Undine and Melusine, does not contain a soul unless wedded to someone who loves them truly. The religious themes continue to be carried in the story, having humans be immortalize because they have a life after death. This implies that there is a heaven for them because of their connection to religion. The little mermaid through actions shows her kindness and good deeds, she literally saves a mortal’s life and decides not to kill him in trade of her own life- yet it still isn’t enough for her to have a soul because of an elemental creature’s disconnect with religion.

Mystical Sea Creature First, Human Second.

In this week’s reading “The Day after the Wedding,” Undine by Froqúe, one particular passage  that stood out to me is when Undine explains to her lover the absence of mystical creatures’ souls. They can only obtain a soul “by the closest union of affection with one of your human race (pg. 105).” Undine dives deep (pun intended)  into a thorough monologue informing her newly wedded husband Huldbrand on the existence of elemental beings that appear like mortals, who are even “more beautiful” and “far superior” than human beings. Strange enough, despite their superiority to human beings they don’t possess a soul. Which raises the question of anthropocentrism, and how humans are indeed seen as superior in this tale. Why else would Undine leave her home behind along with her family to live a life on land? Yes, she’s in love and devoted to Huldbrand but this isn’t just merely a marriage of romance and passion, but a marriage of transaction. Undine yearns for a soul and by marrying a human she is assimilating to the way of human life on land. Undine’s father, a powerful prince of the Mediterranean Sea, wanted his daughter to have a soul even though it is mentioned how she’ll endure much great sufferings of those endowed. An all-powerful mystical creature of his status sees the importance of a soul, but there are implications that none other than the human has one. No other living thing has a soul, further pushing the idea of anthropocentricism. 

This chapter also has strong tones and themes of Christianity, which entails that humans and their connection to religion somehow makes them more superior than other living beings. There is such a distinctive line between humans and their desire to separate themselves from nature and religion (more specifically Christianity) thickens that line and creates a boundary. Udine assimilates by begging the priest to forgive her for her past behaviors and to “pray for the welfare of her soul.” 

Although this chapter was focused on the reveal of her true identity, the chapter begins with an epigraph that made me connect with present day systemic racism. I’m unsure if this is a far reach, but the epigraph discloses Huldbrand’s heart turns from Udline to “his fellow mortal Bertalda.” Despite Udine’s assimilation, Christianization, and deep devotion for Huldbrand it still wasn’t enough. He found comfort in a human, and became weary of Undine’ s otherworldliness. To the world and to him Udline is a fish first, a human second. Similarly from my own experience (especially back when I lived in a predominantly white area) I felt like I was always seen as Asian first, and American second. No matter the assimilation that poc immigrants attempt, or if poc were born in the states there is still a label of “otherness” to us in a euro-centric America.  Why else are we called “Asian American?” Hardly ever do I come across someone identifying themselves as white American, they’re just American. 

Reaping the forbidden fruit

This week’s reading of Melusine “Departure” made me think about the innate human desire to cave into temptation, seeking answers to our curiosities, and how it sometimes results in our loss of innocence. The chapter “Departure” shows distinctive parallels between a well known creation story, Adam and Eve. The story of Adam and Eve is set in a paradise-like setting, a garden filled with harmony and pure bliss. The couple’s innocence shatters due to their disobedience to their creator, rendering their realities forever-changed and negatively altered. Similarly, Raymondin and Melusine live in the comfort of their noble walls, a kingdom in which they are protected from the outside world. It is Raymondin’s curiosity that leads the couple to their tragic fall, “he, through his curiosity, she, without it being her fault, by her very nature. And he no doubt threw the fault on her, and she told herself that they would still be happy but for his cursed curiosity” (142).  Raymondin heavily projects his wrongdoings onto his wife, and breaks a promise that disrupts their routinely peace and innocence.

Despite all of his begging for things to remain unchanged, to continue to live with each other, the damage is irreversible. “God, this same God, does not permit it” Melusine exclaims, which ties back to the Christian re-framing of this story. Even though Melusine forgives her husband, she implies that God does not- for he broke his promise to her in front of his people and has made his initial wrath and disdain known. With my limited knowledge of Christianity, “The Romance of the Faery Melusine” by Lebey reads as a cautionary-tale of what it means to let our suspicion blind us from our morals. Suspicion is a sin, one in which Raymondin acted on to fulfill his desire of the unknown. Humans and their natural desire to seek what they cannot, even if that means jeopardizing their wealth, well-being, and marriage truly shows how powerful our want to be in control is. It makes me wonder if the love that Raymondin claimed to have for Melusine, was more of a desire to control her. And when her true form was revealed, Raymondin might’ve been more upset at the loss of the illusion of control more than her being a hybrid.

Desire & Respect

For week five’s reading, “The Romance of the Faery Melusine” by Gareth Knight and André Lebey, themes of betrayal and deceit disclosed something to me that I found quite profound. It is that there is a clear distinction between love and respect. Raymondin’s suspicion of Melusine leading to the fall of their unhappiness is the result of his betrayal and breach of trust. True love is rooted in mutual trust and respect for one another. While reading Raymondin’s perspective there wasn’t much respect in the first place but rather this burning desire to own and even to domesticate. “The promised happiness to which he looked forward concerned him less than she herself, whom he wanted to know more and more, and above all to possess (pg. 27)” He is utterly fascinated by Melusine’s otherworldly and alluring nature. Raymondin, who at the start was consumed by a great burden after the accidental murder of his uncle, was approached by a beautiful fae Melusine. She offered him her knowledge and guidance, saying “”I am the one who, next to God, can help you best to gain wealth and honour in this mortal life.” Raymondin takes her offer, accepting her one condition, and together they were happy. 

Melusine is depicted not only as cunning, beautiful, vain, but also wise. It is not without wisdom that she could give adequate advice for Raymondin’s troubles. Yet there was an interesting focus on the hairbrush that she used at the fountain during the two’s first encounter and moments before the reveal of her mystical identity. It’s as if Raymondin chose to focus on her vanity and the surface of her beauty rather than the knowledge that she beholds. When Raymondin was stealthily approaching Melusine in her hiding place on Saturday, his anxious thoughts were comforted by “the thought of fighting for Melusine to restore her to herself, he felt elated. (pg. 121)” The idea of saving Melusine brought him happiness, but he never did consider what it meant to just trust his wife or if his wife needed any saving in the first place. This desire to domesticate, and to control is shattered when he finds out about her hybridity. It is as if there was no love in the first place and only the strong wish to control. Upon seeing a tail, he realized he wasn’t in control, thus destroying his happiness. 

Some might consider this tale a tragic love story, but I see it as a story of  betrayal. Melusine omits parts of her identity in order to sustain her husband’s happiness. Raymondin feels deceived and betrayed, but perhaps the biggest betrayal of all his is actions that crumbled their relationship, breaking his promise and both of their own hearts

Week 3: A Mermaid’s Purpose

As I was reading “Introduction: The Stories We Tell About Mermaids and Other Water Spirits” (Penguin, ix-xxii) it made me wonder if there was a collective idea as to why the mermaids in our stories often lack agency. The introduction notes “the mermaid’s perspective is rarely presented and instead basically assumed (pg xix).” Our limited understanding of the vast deep seas leads us to shape a narrative in which humans are dominant above all creatures- even the alluring, dangerous and oftentimes otherworldly beautiful mermaid. Perhaps a mermaid’s lack of agency in these stories are not only for humans to assert their control, but to also make sense of the unknown. Historically the sea has always been difficult to understand, as so much of it hasn’t even been explored today. Over 80% remains unknown. The unknown is uncomfortable, as it is captivating. The mermaid embodies those two qualities, and as mentioned in the reading she tries her hardest to “pass” as a human on land but is never fully accepted (xvii). This “otherness” is the reason why a man has a strong desire to pursue her, and to domesticate her. Perhaps this possessiveness of the mermaid strips her from her agency, all in the name of “love” that seems more plainly like desire. 

A mermaid’s lack of agency in a patriarchal sphere brings me to our reading “Sedna” (Inuit). I’ve actually read this story before for my mythology class, and was absolutely flabbergasted by her father’s sudden act of betrayal- especially since he spent so long looking for (who we all thought was) his beloved daughter. This creation story could simply just be a creation story, or it could be deciphered to have many themes. Those themes being betrayal, connection to nature, especially the spiritual connection that the Inuit people had with the sea. Still, I couldn’t help but to see Sedna’s story being patriarchal in nature. Despite her transformation in becoming a powerful sea goddess who controls the animals of the sea, it was all due to her suffering that caused this. Sedna having to be married off, then deceived by her husband followed by her being dispensable to her father. To me, this creation story showed Sedna’s lack of agency in a man’s world, only to find her power in another world- the world of the sea. 

Art Credit: Sedna by Antony Galbraith

Howdy From Salinas!

Hey y’all! I’m a third year transfer from Miramar College majoring in English Comparative Literature. 🙂 I’m originally from Austin Texas (which isn’t very close to mermaids, but San Diego sure is!) Although there are certain things that I miss about Texas like the southern hospitality, BBQ, and my family, I’m so very happy to have made San Diego my home of three years. <3

I have always been passionate about literature, and I like to say that my first love was reading. Some of my childhood favorites include Anne of Green Gables, Pride & Prejudice and the Tintin comic books. I have the dreams of one day publishing a book, and I write poetry when I’m feeling inspired… or extremely emotionally charged haha. Recently over the summer I had an internship at Mesa College for the AANAPISI department (Asian American Native American Pacific Islander Serving Institution) which has influenced me greatly! Even though the big dream is to have career in literature, I would find a career that is community orientated in higher ed really fulfilling as well.

Besides reading, I also like to hike, make arts and crafts, daydream and spend time with my loved ones.

Oh and because I’m inspired by Gale’s introduction, If I had a mermaid tail it would be a dark silver color. Maybe slightly holographic too, just for fun.