Category Archives: Week 7:The Origins of the Modern Era: 19th C Industrialism & Capitalism

The Mermaid: from mythical being to exotic freakshow attraction

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The mermaid, as a symbol of cursed femininity, is a creature which, in all its beauty and connection to the splendor of nature, is still lacking some intrinsic quality. This lack, whether it be of the soul, or human limbs, keeps it separate from becoming part of civilized human society. We see this in Undine’s story, which precedes Hans Christian Anderson’s “Little mermaid”, and highlights the central theme we’ve become familiar with, of the mermaid yearning for humanity or a soul: “such as we are, however, can only obtain a human soul by the closest union of affection with one of you human race (p.105)” Their earthly permanence is only secured by the love of a human, despite being “far superior to that of other human beings(p.105).” 

However, the difference between these two assigned readings, Undine and The Mermaid editorial, points to a cultural shift in the mermaid’s symbolism in popular culture. This cultural shift occurs in the West as the United States becomes an imperialistic force in the global south, and conversations of slavery and the subjugation of Black people in the southern states come into focus in the years prior to the Civil War. 

The mermaid transitions from a beautiful (white) creature into a monster reflecting the fears of Westward expansion. These Fae-like creatures (Melusine and Undine) were historically associated with eurocentric ideals of beauty and morality. The only quality that the beautiful and loyal Undine lacks is a soul, supplied by her husband’s love and admiration. However, the Freakshow mermaids and editorial recollections were framed not only by the novelty of entertainment but by the pitfalls of Social Darwinism; as a means to justify the subjugation and non-consensual viewing of black and othered female bodies:

“It was female, with ugly negro features. The skin was harsh, the ears very large, and the back parts and the tail were covered with scales(p.253)”

“It was therefore an Asiastic mermaid. The description is as follows: –Its face is like that of a young female– its eyes a fine light blue– its nose small and handsome– its mouth small– its lips thin, and the edges of them round like that of the codfish–its teeth are small, regular and white–its chin well shaped, and its neck full (p.253)

The sheer difference in these two descriptions make a stark comparison between the race of these two creatures. Barnum, in his attempt to comment on this growing fascination of the link between animals and humans, also comments on the prevalence of racial pseudoscience which is accepted as a norm in the scientific community. The 19th century mermaid becomes a vehicle to explore and support the supposed logic in scientific racism and the growing eugenicist movement that will define the century to come. 

Mystical Sea Creature First, Human Second.

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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. 

Ontological paradox of the conditional soul

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I thought that ‘The Day after the Wedding, from Undine’ is not simply a romantic tale but a story about the transformation of existence and the conditions that come with it. When Undine reveals her true nature to Huldbrand, her marriage gives her a soul but also places her in a fragile and painful state. Through this moment, I thought that the author shows a paradox: gaining humanity means becoming vulnerable.

In her confession, Undine explains that as a water spirit, she once lived joyfully but without a soul. Because of that, she could not feel true emotion or hope for salvation. Through her marriage to a human, she finally receives a soul, but not in the Christian sense of free grace. Instead of being a divine and unconditional gift, her soul depends entirely on Huldbrand’s human love and faithfulness. She tells him, “my soul will ever mean to you, if you do not make my whole life miserable.” This shows that her soul is not guaranteed by divine grace but is based on a fragile human promise. It is almost like a contract rather than a blessing. Undine trades her harmless immortality as a spirit for the chance to experience human love, and, at the same time, human suffering. Her new soul allows her to love deeply, but it also makes her open to heartbreak, jealousy, and fear. This condition also gives Huldbrand a heavy spiritual responsibility. He is no longer only a husband but the one who must keep her soul alive through his devotion. If he fails her, it is not just a personal betrayal, it is a spiritual tragedy. When he proudly calls himself “happier than Pygmalion,” the statement becomes ironic. Pygmalion’s statue was perfect and could not change, but Huldbrand is human, which means that he can be weak, emotional, and easily swayed. His love gives Undine life, yet his imperfection is what threatens her very soul.

In the end, I thought this story challenges the traditional Christian idea that a soul is a permanent blessing given by divine grace. In Undine, the soul becomes conditional, it must be sustained by loyalty and love, not by God alone. This makes the story less about salvation and more about the instability of human existence. Undine’s tragedy suggests that to gain a soul is not to escape suffering but to embrace it fully. I thought that in this story, it tells that being human means living within that tension, where love and loss are inseparable.

Undine’s Reflection in the Water

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After reading this week’s story, a sentence that stood out to me that I really wanted to talk about was on page 102 (I think). Where Undine is talking to Huldbrand about who she is, Undine states, “…the noble monuments sparkle below, stately and solemn, and bedewed by the loving waters which allure from them many a beautiful moss-flower and entwining cluster of seagrass” (102). I had to cut the quote short because the sentence went on for way too long.

First off, I want to point out Undine’s use of the word “loving” when describing the water; this, to me, felt like she was giving an emotion to nature, which felt like a reflection of herself. Giving a feminine aspect and feel to the water shows how she wants Huldbrand not to feel threatened. By describing the water as a majestic force rather than something of fear and destruction. This mirrors Undine herself, a life of water that brings vigor and kindness into a world full of masculine knights and rulers. By portraying the waters as something of serenity and love, she is giving Huldbrand the idea that she herself is reflected in the water. A figure of love and kindness that can continue to bring him happiness.

I also liked the use of “moss-flowers” and “sea grass” because I feel it intentionally blurs the line between land and water. Casually reflecting Undine and Hulbrand themselves, the merging of life on land and life in the water. I love the subtle foreshadowing that is happening in this line as well, “entwining cluster of sea grass”, because to me, this highlights the idea that Undine is wrapped around “the monument” (Huldbrand) in a loving embrace.

I feel like this sentence did a great job reflecting the relationship between Undine and Huldbrand, showing the union of land and water. I also like the idea that it mirrors the merging of feminine and masculine or the mortal and the elemental. Overall, this quote does an amazing job of highlighting how water shows the reflection of things. In this case, the water is mirroring Undine’s reflection of herself and her relationship with Huldbrand.

Song of the Week: la petite fille de la mer (Remastered) by Vangelis (This song felt very mystical and magical, and I also feel that it captured the emotion of Undine’s confession of her true self very well. It’s eerie yet enticing, and would honestly do a great job capturing me if a beautiful woman tried to lure me into the sea.)

Human and Elemental Harmony

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In the chapter “The Day after the Wedding,” Undine by Froqúe, Undine reveals she is a water spirit, a being a nature with no human soul. Undine opens herself vulnerably to her husband, recalling to him her life as an elemental spirit and her journey of acquiring a soul through their love. In this confession she contrasts her previous life of natural joy and unburden to this new change of life through love and marriage, “Hence we have also no soul; the element moves us, and is often obedient to us while we live, though it scatters us to dust when we die; and we are merry, without having aught to grieve us — merry as the nightingales and little goldfish and other pretty children of nature.” (Penguin,105). Within this confession, the reader can understand the differences between the beliefs of the elemental creatures and their way of live, to the biblical path of “soul” created by humans. In these differences, Froqúe reveals the destruction of the human consciousness, this devotion to purpose, and its detriment to the unity between humans and the environment. 

Undine begins her confession by stating her lack of a human soul, “Hence we have also no soul,” demonstrating that elemental beings are naturally separate, but nature itself does not possess them. They are guided by the elemental spirit. There is no definitive ‘bible’ for the elemental way to live; there are no ‘rights’ or ‘wrongs’. They do not have the consciousness to feel guilt or judgment. Undine’s element of water is the giver of her life: “The element moves us, and is often obedient to us while we live, though it scatters to us when we die.” Undine’s element is clearly water, which sustains her life, although her relationship with it does not embody loyalty over death, unlike human religion or marriage. There is no single all-powerful being or creator of all elementals, and when an elemental dies, its body is returned to the environment. There is, in fact, no afterlife for the elementals. Their bodies are  “scattering to dust,” emphasizing that Undine has never had to put pressure on her death; when she passes, there is no hope for a “heaven”, there is no conscious idea of lifelong judgment of a higher power, or the importance of a legacy one leaves behind on earth. Undine will not have to face her creator and have her fate decided.  For Undine, life was meant to be lived simply, not to seek a purpose until she found love. Her life before marriage, “ we merry, without aught to grieve us – merry as the nightinggales and little goldfish and other pretty children of nature.” Undine highlights her past life of innocence, comparing the nature of nightingales and goldfish, creatures that do not experience complex feelings of grief and love, suggesting that before gaining a soul, she did have the emotional capacity for despair. This comparison demonstrates that acquiring a human soul through love has now awakened these feelings of suffering. This moment is an emotional and spiritual turning point for Undine as she reminisces on her old life and commits to the moral world. Undine is no longer a “pretty child of nature, she is a woman, vulnerable, soulful, and capable of deep happiness and suffering. 

The idea that nature was “often obedient” to Undine shows that her relationship with her element is a mutual one, where both respond and listen to each other, rather than one trying to dominate the other There is a natural rhythm between them, as there is no open space for betrayal between Undine and the water, no grief, soul, or moral burden. This demonstrates the idealized natural state where humans can be part of the ecosystem rather than the master over it, living a balanced life. Humans want a simple relationship with the environment, but their self-awareness complicates harmony because their own motives become their worst enemies. Undine’s transformation of acquiring her soul through love mirrors the separation humans gain by their consciousness. These complexities of despair disconnect them from the natural world, and the sense of solidarity dissolves into selfish actions. Undine becomes more disconnected from her element as civilization distances her from her natural rhythm and environment. The cycle of life and death of the elemental showcases the dual role of the environment, the nurturing and indifferent. As “the element moves us…though it scatters us to dust when we die..” illuminates that when the elementals are alive, nature nurtures and obeys, but in death, it reclaims and dissolves, once again demonstrating this rhythm, the elemental creatures live within the environment. In terms of humans, this cycle just emphasizes our lack of control over the environment. Froqúe showcases that nature will always outlast and outpower humans. 

This story of Undines demonstrates the human imbalance and tension within the relationship to the environment. When humans reject what they cannot control, this leads to destruction. Froqúe considers whether humans can live meaningfully with a soul while still honoring and remaining in harmony with the natural world.

The Rise of Christianity in Undine

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In this week’s reading of Undine in The Penguin Book of Mermaids, the author showcases Undine’s revelation to her husband that she is a water princess who did not have a soul until she married him. While making this confession, the author builds a religious tone as Undine explains the tragedy of not being in possession of a soul. Subsequently, the confession creates the notion that humans and supernatural beings do not exist on the same level and creates a boundary between these two worlds, where humans’ relation to religion makes them inherently better “beings” since they have a soul. 

During the revelation, she explains to him that there is an “evil peculiar to [those like her]” as they “vanish into dust, and pass away, body and spirit, so that not a vestige of [them] remains behind” (Penguin 105). However, humans are placed on a pedestal when Undine notes a further on in the passage that their soul allows them to achieve a “purer life” (Penguin 105) than supernatural creatures. It is here where the author creates a boundary between human and the supernatural nature, where the supernatural is painted as being beneath humans. Creating the dichotomy between good versus bad through Undine’s use of the word “evil” to describe the plight of these supernatural creatures in comparison to the “pure” humans serves to paint piety as something to aspire to. If beings like Undine do what is “right” and obtain a soul, then they are essentially promised a “purer life” (Penguin 105) because of this attachment to religion. The lack of souls that supernatural beings possess puts them at a disadvantage since they don’t have a connection to a higher being like God and, therefore, are seen as unholy. Humans become the ideal since their souls are given to them by God and are then deemed sacred, which puts them a step above the supernatural.  

This religious tone becomes important because it validates religion as a way to judge someone’s character in order to police society. The notion that the closer you are to God, the better of a person you are helps solidify the standard to which people are then measured. Calling those without a soul (aka religious affiliations) “evil” and those who do have a religious connection “pure” indicates to people that they should be more pious in order to avoid being seen as wicked. Knowing that humans often feel the desire to fit into society, people are then more likely to join the Church to keep from being ostracized or deemed a lesser person like Undine. In turn, it grows the power of religion since it is seen as necessity for a good life.

Week 7- Merpeople From the Perspective of Western Capitalism

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After reading the excerpt, “Freakshows and Fantasies” from Merpeople: a Human History, I began to see how to concept or “promise” of merpeople in the 19th century was often used for capitalist gains. “In the keenest examples, the mermaid specimen of American sea captain Samuel Barrett Eades and the American showman P. T. Barnum’s ‘Feejee Mermaid’ both created cultural frenzies that attracted droves of paying onlookers (Scribner 125).” As sightings of mermaids and tritons became prevalent in the press, more and more people were increasingly intrigued and attracted to the idea of catching a glimpse themselves. So much so that they were willing to pay to see these creatures as if they were circus acts. As these stories of ancient Asian legends were being misinterpreted and fetishized in the West, they were also apparently aiding in business opportunities. It also did not come to a halt with the newfound perspectives of scientists. “Public exhibits and ‘freak shows’ continued to entertain clamouring audiences across both countries (Scibner 125).” No matter what, entrepreneurs (of sorts) would continue to promote and sell the chance to witness a “freakshow,” and onlookers with money to spend were all the more willing to experience something magical.

These customers may not have been aware, but if they had ever heard the ancient tales and myths of these hybrid creatures, they would be aware that they were a force to be reckoned with and maybe not seek them out. The moral of many of these Japanese stories that took the Western world into a frenzy was to steer clear of merpeople and certainly not to get too close. Yet with all of that being said, people had money to spend and a thrill to chase.

Humans have a long history of spending money on anything and everything, especially in the West, but also in such daredevil ways. People pay money to jump out of airplanes or get chased at a haunted house. These 19th-century merpeople enthusiasts don’t seem all that crazy when you think about what people will spend money on now, but they do prove to be part of a history of American Capitalism. They took part in the exploitation of not only a mythical creature, but a culture. The men who orchestrated these sideshows manipulated the public and their need for entertainment. They also dismissed the cultural and religious aspects that accompanied what they “promised,” and they made money doing so. Unfortunately, they would not be the last of their kind.

Seeking Realms

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The theme of mer-marriage, as in the case of Undine and later the Little Mermaid, leads us to believe that water beings are seeking out sanctity as they attempt to assimilate into the human world. Even though her world is rich with beauty and “far superior to that of other human beings” Undine leaves it behind in search for a soul and an afterlife. She searches for a way to eternity, calling it an “awake to a purer life.” The recurring story of intermarriage is an attempt to sway humanity into a feeling of superiority. Merbeings are the ones who seek our world, who seek our terrestrial realm, who seek our devotion. When Undine declares that “all beings aspire to be higher than they are” as she has just entered into her marriage, it leads to the claim that man is at the top of that list. And what an assertion, that the afterlife is purer than an existence in harmony with the elements of the earth. This yearn for heaven justifies degradation of earth’s natural resources when even the elements would give up their place on it.

This promotion of superiority and eternal greatness all comes to culmination in the 19th century. A culmination that backfires. After centuries of developing the Christian pomposity of humanity, morality and command of nature through mermaid lore, the public attained a thirst for mermaids. In an industrialized world, humanity wished for a way back to nature. To live in the sea, unscathed from the moral compass of a burgeoning nation and industry. The Feejee mermaid is proof of this as it found people schooling to get a glimpse. And when they saw the bleak counterfeit they had to turn back to the world “disgusted… re-enter(ing) the coal smog of New York city’s streets. (Scribner 125) Mermaid tales attempted to lead us to the verdict that water spirits sought out our realm and our morality due to a superiority. But the narrative had an adverse effect, especially in regard to industrialism. Humans attempted to “peek into the mystical wonder” of merfolk and instead had to remain in their “black cities and black lungs.”

Undines Speech and Christian Essentialism

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In “The Day after the Wedding, from Undine,” found in The Penguin Book of Mermaids, religious imagery stands out thematically, driving the chapter’s narrative. As Undine gives her speech to Huldbrand she confesses that her kind “vanish into dust, and pass away, body and spirit, so that none of the stage of us remains behind; and when you mortals hereafter awake to a purer life, we remain with the sand and the sparks and the wind and the waves” (105). This elemental imagery of dust reflects that of Genesis 3:19 “for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” The scripture from the Book of Genesis is supposed to be a reminder that there is no amount of human achievement that can defy human destiny. Allusions to such scripture heavily frames the context in biblical cosmology, where there is one divine order that holds the power to determine what life holds value. Yet Undine had referred to this process of returning to “dust,” “sand,” “sparks,” and “wind”  as a sort of “evil.” The prevalent hierarchy of the divine order and the soulless is represented syntactically where the divine mortals “awake to purer life,” while the soulless nature spirits “remain” in the material world, one with the elements. The chapter’s biblical imagery depicts the ways in which Christian essentialism is legitimized falsely naturalizing religious teleology. 

Undine’s speech to Huldbrand lays the ground for the idea that all beings aspire to have and desire a divine soul, under the notion that moral advancement is dependent on Christian faith. In the following quote from that stated previously Undine goes on to say that water spirits “have no souls; the element moves [them], and is often obedient to [them] while [they] live, though it scatters [them] to dust when [they] die; and [they] are merry, without having aught to give [them] […] but all beings aspire to be higher than they are” (105). The environment and its elements, in this case, are personified—“the elements moves us”—making nature both animated and simultaneously passive. Nature is alive yet lacks free will. The water spirits are depicted as beings without divine agency, very much alive but not sanctified. The elements “move” them, yet are “obedient” to them, making Undine and other water spirits paradoxically passive and active in life. It lays a foundation for ideology that believes if a being “has no soul” then they are drifters in life and the environment. The final line presents that theological claim generalizing that “all beings aspire to be higher than they are.” It essentially claims that all life strives toward salvation because that is part of the order of life. 

The chapter sets the narrative that these “soulless” beings may be joyful but they are incomplete. By doing this Christian essentialism is put onto the pedestal as divine and part of natural evolution. That everyone must be incomplete and therefore feel the need to aspire to a “higher” way of life. Depictions of religious teleology is a way to dictate rhetoric of moral and cultural superiority. 

Redefinition for Rights

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Besides the obvious intrigue of this week’s readings that discuss so many sightings of mermaids in very early years, I was drawn to the way they discuss the shift of their view. While we’ve analyzed at length the difference between their original view in society as creatures of lust, to a symbol of femininity and fertility, to their modern interpretation as child’s play, there doesn’t seem to be much of this recognition from the previous generations during the existence.

The exact statement really holds a lot of value: “The Mermaid has long been considered by many as a fabulous animal, but some naturalists have declared there is too much evidence of the existence of these animals to warrant them in pronouncing the mermaid to be solely a creature of fancy” (Penguin, 241). Their verbiage in particular, referring to them as animals, really begins a new definition in and of itself. While they’re somewhat referred to as a cross between fish and human in the rest of the reading, it’s clear where the author of this particular section draws the line. Their animal existence seems to completely separate them from the human existence, as if totality is the only true definition of being excluded from animal definition.

It’s especially intriguing because of how it leans into the idea that in the wake of their reality, they are animals, but humans are not. Only in fiction can they be considered entirely something of marvel, but when they may actually be something of fact, their existence must become detached from ours. Despite the same evolutionary process that created us being something that would be a part of their existence, and the fact that their cognitive ability matches our own, they must be completely disconnected and unassociated with the “perfection” that humanity supposedly holds. Even the contemplation of their existence needing to have complete evidence, despite there already having been, proves this need to deny them so we do not have to work around any creature that we would consider remotely comparative to us.

It truly in one sentence reflects our disrespect of them, our need to stare and make them “creatures of fancy” when we don’t believe they can defend themselves or find any kind of retaliation, but in the event of their actuality, we’re unsure of how to respond besides disconnection as animalistic beings. Without this shield of their non-existence, we’d have to recognize the inevitability of coexistence with something as cognitive as us, and humanity’s selfishness cannot do this. Instead, we refuse to accept them as a part of us, or a part of the world whatsoever.