Aganju and Yemaja

The passage “Aganju and Yemaja” from The Penguin Book of Mermaids frames a Yoruba environmental ethic: nature is a family of land, water, and air, and when that bond is violated, all life is shaken. Caring for the environment means honoring those kin.

Aganju stands for land, “an uninhabited tract of country, wilderness, plain, or forest.” Yemaja is “Mother of fish,” the goddess of streams who “presides over ordeals by water.” Their son Orungan means “In the height of the sky.” The text says the union of Obatala and Odudua “represents Land and Water,” so this family maps the basic elements, earth, water, and air, as one household with duties and limits.

The break shows the cost of crossing those limits. After Orungan’s assault, “two streams of water gushed from her breasts,” forming a lagoon, and from Yemaja’s body come the systems that sustain life: rivers (Oshun, Oya, Oba), the sea (Olokun), mountains (Oke), agriculture (Orisha Oko), even “the sun” and “the moon.” Ife, the city of “distention,” is built to remember this rupture. The message is direct: damage to water spreads everywhere. When water is harmed, land, sky, food, health, and time itself are thrown off balance.

This myth is also a guide for action. If water can judge, she “presides over ordeals by water,” then water demands accountability. Treat rivers, wetlands, and lagoons as kin, not resources to use up. Protect headwaters and floodplains. Farm in ways that respect Orisha Oko. Guard mountains as Oke, not as mines to strip. Keep public spaces like Oju-Aganju as places of shared memory. In short: honor Yemaja and her descendants in policy and practice, because our well-being depends on theirs.

What Separate between Identity and Unity

What does an identify have that unity doesn’t well there is more to that. In Roodan “The Ocean Reader: Theory,Culture,Politics” where both the ocean and humanities are two different entities that correlates with each other. Showing what is similar versus being completely different are two separate things that intertwines with each other. Roodan portrayal of human relationship with the ocean has a connection to how people in the modern era see things. The Ocean is a essential key part of world and is not really in our control in some way shape or form.

The central point of this piece that explains that the ideology is the Ocean is more than just something Humans are aware of and take advantage of and use for their personal gain like naming them, having it apart of certain terrestrial continents on earth. “there is one big Ocean, and while its regions have been conceptualized as separate bodies of water and named different Oceans, the fact is, they are all connected, and seawater travels widely and endlessly across these artificial geographic markers” (1,2). It has imply that their acknowledgement of what the ocean is and how they connect to the land they are closest to and maned after their land region. It is a concept that people have owned and signed an agreement to name ocean or land that they claim is a Nation as recognition of the people who live on it. The process of nationhood is a human way in the modern age to have two differ from each other by a particular characteristic. Having specific names have connections to humans as a geographic location.

The Ocean never really had capitalizes us humans in terms of our written language but it has with Mother Nature itself, It is seen as resource and not having much meaning to it because humans are dangerous creatures who just use it as something if needed in certain situations. The lack of the relationship between Humans and the Ocean itself. The ocean is just something to bypass by instead of thinking about how we need to respect it. The Ocean has carried knowledge that we know and It is one of the first things that developed majority of Earths current and extinct creatures that have lived as long the environment is livable and Us Humans don’t really acknowledged it in deep in thought. “Ocean is capitalized in this book”(3). As Roodan explains it has been going on for a claim for a formal name that we know it as. As much as it is a Ocean of nothingness in the surface level due to the lack of desire for exploration of the ocean and our relationship with it is mostly consists of just being used for human desires and never thought of much as a vital part of Earth to taken care of. The Ocean and many parts that make earth livable and responsible for influencing humans to think of borders of where they are in the world for some sort of a identity to have. Oceans often decides on weather conditions like storms, hurricanes and when the clouds will let water fall to ground and we see it as a rainy day outside.

In our Nations Politics have gotten involved in such as thing like having good knowledge, economics or even policies and someone is getting something and what the Ocean get Nothing. There is nothing to give the ocean from Humans and we should think more of why the Ocean has purpose instead of just seeing as a tool to get around by. The recognition of the Ocean is needed and what we choose to do as humans is nothing more than wanting more territory of who owns more and gets more. Most people recognize as a Domain and always have and still will and we have to take small steps to have better understanding of what the Ocean really is instead staying comfortable as we are. One example to have for the first step of recognizing it as a important part of our planet and knowing how to take care of it and too see how it affects the creatures who need the ocean to survive.

As Roodan puts it as he makes readers understand how to the oceans and how is our relationship with as a whole. To have some sort of meaning to the Ocean and how we treat it as it impacts our way of living and changing our ways would indeed help of healing our environment around us. The Ocean Identity is part of our world and no matter how we see it the Ocean is something to be acknowledged to all living creatures and it an environment worth protecting and is a Nation even without any named statehood boundaries made by Humans.

Tlanchana: Syncretism in the Americas

The Pre-Columbian Era was a time of innovation, engineering accomplishments, and
astonishing mythological tales. Among the indigenous folklore and figures that were praised and respected, one of the most controversial ones was the goddess Tlanchana. This ocean goddess was said to be a protector of the people and guardian of the sea for the Matlatzinca culture which incidentally predates the Mexica (Aztec) period. Despite this significance, after the arrival of the conquistadors, Tlanchana was altered from its original portrayal (which was considered demonic due to the half-snake characteristics) to a more “appealing” appearance of a mermaid. This alteration further showcases how certain beliefs are shunned and often replaced with alternate interpretations from a monotheistic point-of-view, and also proves that ancient legends and deities are only deemed important in history when it is told from the perspective of the powerful which in this case, were the explorers.

Leading up to the events of the complete control of Tenochtitlan by the Spaniards, conflicts were already brewing even between the indigenous tribes of Mexico making it that much more difficult for a firm cultural and spiritual monolith to be established within the natives. This very challenge subsequently lead to Catholicism being spread all throughout the Americas; leaving many native goddesses behind through ways of destruction, war, and religious conversion of the natives. Despite this tumultuous environment however, some indigenous deities did manage to be brought into New Spain’s Catholic culture, only difference is that it was done by mixing which is now known as “Mexican Syncretism.”

With this context in mind, the alteration of the water deity Tlanchana from original “half-serpent” form to a more “half-fish” form is becoming increasingly more understandable, not morally of course, but from a theological standpoint considering the symbolic connection between the devil in Genesis taking the form of the cunning snake. This urgency from the Spanish to change the original depiction of the ocean deity Tlanchana because of the serpent aspect and tie in with nature, yet approve of the mermaid-like traits is reminiscent of other cultures that have had their own deities altered by Europeans as mentioned by Scribner, “But these accounts warn men to control their desires, to keep their wits about them in the presence of a ‘supernatural’ beauty that represents, at the same time the power of nature. Rather than cautioning men against the dangerous power of powerful female beings in the European tales, these tales enjoin respect for nonhuman life and divine power” (18). Although this excerpt is in regards to Hawaiin spirits, it further demonstrates the impact European explorers and colonists had on these territories that already had an established society with traditions, going as far as to re-writing indigenous spiritual figures to convert them to a new form of life, subsequently removing that strong connection with nature that they once had.

Artistic interpretation of Tlanchana before colonization (could change appearance from full-human to full-serpent at will). Illustration by Juan Alcázar. 1988.
Statue of Tlanchana located in Metepec, Mexico. Photo credits https://www.centrecannothold.com/blog/guzman-3

This change that was done by the Spanish to not only Tlanchana but other spiritual figures (most significant one being the Virgin Mary and the Aztec mother goddess Tonantzin) opened an entire new world for both the Mexica and Spanish civilizations since they both could now connect with a different form of nature spirit which is more centered around the actual environment through the elements. Unfortunately, as it is known, there was not much acceptance of the beliefs that were affiliated with indigenous tribes in Mexico since the Spaniards thought of these “elemental guardian spirits” as an act of heresy and instead implemented Catholicism amongst the tribes even with syncretism applied to certain native deities.

The “mermification” of Tlanchana is not just a mere modification, but a telling act that demonstrates how the people in power (conquistadors) were understanding of mythology and legends, only if it correlated with what they believed at the time; altering or erasing that which did not coincide with their religious views. These stories of old folklore and mythical beings are not just fictional tales that are meant to be thought of as fantasy with no deep meaning to it other than to be read or viewed for entertainment. Rather, these stories should be taken seriously not only because of tradition, but because they are telling of the social environment at that point in time. The reinterpretation of the water goddess Tlanchana’s from her serpent form to her mermaid form is much more than a superficial change, it symbolizes the cultural and environmental shift in regards to religion, class systems, agriculture, and ethnicity as well. A forgotten land in Mexico that had it’s own history to tell through the ways of nature and the people that inhabited the lands, now vastly different as a result of the exploration of the Americas leaving the powerless to adapt to a new culture and theology, where they still continue to follow today.

References

Alcázar, Juan. Juan Alcázar and Goddess Tlanchana. (2021). MuseoRalli Marbella.

Bacchilega, C., & Brown, M. A. (2019). The Penguin book of mermaids. Penguin Books

Water Spirits as History

In the section titled “African Mermaids and Other Water Spirits” from The Penguin Book of Mermaids, the authors highlight the idea that these water spirits are part of a long history and become a way to learn more about African culture. By looking to water spirits as a way of gaining knowledge about a community, it de-centers the Eurocentric view of learning as something that has to be scientific and come from a traditional historical account.

What stood out to me specifically was the description of the Yoruba people of West Africa and that “When the Yoruba peoples were captured during the transatlantic slave trade, they brought their worship of Yemoja [the water deity] with them” (Penguin 166). Rather than simply seeing the water deity Yemoja as being “associated with family, women, motherhood, and the arts” (Penguin 166), she becomes interlaced within the pain and suffering that many of the Yoruba and West African peoples were subjected to by colonial powers. Her migration from West Africa across the Atlantic Ocean can then be seen as a testament to the forcible movement they faced as they kept the belief alive through the continuation of her memory for many generations. She essentially allowed them to keep their heritage and connection to the homeland during a time of increased stress and torment. Subsequently, Yemoja is a figure who provided comfort at a time when Yoruba people were being treated as if they were not human, and oftentimes did not have many ways to cope with the lack of humanity that they were given. By looking at Yemoja as not just a water spirit but as a chronicle and archive of the history of the Yoruba people, she becomes a historical figure that allows us to dive deeper into a narrative that is frequently silenced due to a lack of traditional historical knowledge.

Looking at water spirits as a method for learning about a culture is then significant because it moves away from a Eurocentric perspective that views history as something that is visible and concretely recorded. This moves mythologies away from a fictional realm and into a historical realm by acknowledging that these myths and beliefs are based in reality and come from lived experiences that are significant to a culture. We can then use these myths as a way to bridge the gap between a western account of history and those who are left out of those written and preserved accounts of events.

Respect for Nature

“Ti Jeanne” presents a complete reversal of the roles typically painted of European water spirits. The Caribbean Water Spirit Maman Dlo chastises Ti Jeanne for her vanity, for admiring her reflection: “Whose that looking at herself?… vanity, vanity, my child.” Depicting the human as the one with vanity instead of the hybrid reiterates that this is a human trait. Not one that is learned from outside influences or from unnatural beings, but one that is inherent. When Ti Jeanne beholds the mother of water she is fearful. But she is not fearful of the “other”, Ti Jeanne is fearful of her possible offence to nature: “For the girl knew that punishment awaits the one who offends the forest creatures, the plants or the animals” Maman Dlo calls for the respect of nature, instead of a justification for conquering nature, like we have seen in other western mermaid stories. Maman Dlo punishes those who disrespect it. Not just the women, but the men too, “mortal men who commit crimes against the forest, like burning down trees or indiscriminately putting down animals… could find themselves married to her for life.” The Caribbean story still incorporates tales of intermarriage, like Western mermaid depictions, the men marrying the water spirit. But this intermarriage inflicts control upon men rather than the water spirit, opposed to what we have seen in traditional Western mermaid stories. The reversal of control in intermarriage reflects the reversal of the lesson from the story. Instead of asserting man’s dominion, Caribbean mermaid and water deities punish those who attempt to dominate nature. These deities reflect the value of an ecocentric society as well as the need for cultural exploration.

The Emotional Spirit of Water

In African Mermaids and Other Water Spirits, the line that I thought that interesting was the description of Yemoja as “associated with family, women, motherhood, and the arts.” I thought that this sentence shows how deeply connected she is to the idea of care and creation. When I read this, I thought about how the author makes Yemoja more than just a goddess, she becomes a symbol of the emotional side of nature. The text also says her name means Mother of Fish, which makes the connection between life and water feel even stronger. Fish depend on water to live, and by calling Yemoja their mother, the story gives the river a sense of love and responsibility, as if nature itself were alive and caring for what it creates.

Also, I liked this text how it personifies water as something emotional and human. In many modern views, nature is treated as something to control or use, but here, water has feelings, it can protect, nurture, and even react. Yemoja’s image as a mother connects to this emotional side of water. She reflects comfort and creation, but also the unpredictability of emotions. Just as water can be calm or stormy, Yemoja represents the complexity of how humans feel. Through this line, the text makes me realize that water and emotion are not separate, they both move, change, and affect everything around them.

Another detail that stood out to me is that Yemoja continues to be honored in many places. I thought that this shows that her image travels beyond one culture or location, flowing like the water she represents. Even if people interpret her differently, the emotional meaning remains. It was interesting how a single symbol, water as a mother, can connect so many people across different parts of the world.

For me, Yemoja’s description reminded me that myths are not just old stories, they are ways to understand what it means to feel and to live in balance with nature. Yemoja’s gentle but powerful image that can help us to see water not only as a physical need but as something emotional that connects humans to the world around them.

Reclaiming Mermaids

Medieval Western depictions of mermaids have been used as a means to exert control over women. “Church leaders needed a feminine, dangerous, and lustful counterpart to their upstanding men. This is where mermaids came in.” (Scribner Ch.1) Christianity sculpted femininity as harmful to faith and devastator of mankind. “Their ultimate goal remained tethered to decentering the feminine.” (Scribner Ch.1) In contradiction to this tradition, Gabrielle Tesfaye’s short film “The Water Will Carry Us Home” illustrates mermaids as bearers of life. Employing an African perspective, Tesfaye challenges Western traditional operation of mermaids by using them to continue life rather than destroy it. By re-imagining the death of those killed at the hands of White Western oppressors, “The Water Will Carry Us Home” not only reclaims History, it reclaims mermaids.

star mapping 0:53
stretched ears 0:55

A key component to presenting an African perspective is the framing of the animation with Yoruban and other African ritual. The film begins with clips of Tesfaye performing living ritual. Among the many images presented, Tesfaye is found mapping stars (0:53) and baring her stretched ears (0:55). These two images hold importance because they ground non-conformational history. African astrology dates back to ancient civilizations of Africa. Modern astrology gained its foundation from African astrology. By representing astrology in the form of star mapping, Tesfaye is recognizing contributions from early African civilizations. This confirms the fact that Africans were not lacking in educational cultivation. Contrary to what conquerors of African communities have attempted to illustrate, these cultures were not obtuse or primitive. Tesfaye’s stretched ears characterize a long-held African tradition that symbolizes wisdom and status. This tradition was not only practiced among Africans. It was a widespread custom, transcending cultures globally such as: Aztecs, Mayans, Ancient Greeks, Buddhists, among others. Westerns view stretched ears as a marker for savages. In baring her stretched ears, Tesfaye persuades her audience to recognize the cultural significance. A practice that transcends cultures globally and symbolizes knowledge and power. These first notable images not only begin to ground an African perspective, but they reinstate African history and culture as universally significant.

The Orisha, Yemaya (4:20)
The Orisha, Shango 2:48
Yemaya with a split tail 4:50

Furthering an African perspective, Tesfaye presents Yoruban Gods; or Orishas in her animation. The Orishas, Yemaya and Shango, a mother and son pair, are protecting the captured Africans. Yemaya is the Orisha of the sea, motherhood, and femininity. (4:20) She gives and protects life. Shango is the Orisha of thunder and lightning, he is a source of fertility and embodies masculinity. He uses his powers to hinder the progress of the ship. (2:48) Watching these two Gods, man and women, working together to hinder the slave ship, upends Christianity’s use for mermaids. The church’s mermaid depictions strove to reduce women in order to uplift men (as reiterated by Vaughn Scribner). Presenting the god of femininity and the god of masculinity in harmony, working together to protect their people, subverts the values of the Christian God. Unlike the reborn mermaids in the film, Yemaya is illustrated with a split tail. (4:50) The Christian church utilized a split tail to represent “feminine lust and danger” (Scribner). Illustrating the Orisha Yemaya, protector of women and renewer of life, with a split tail positively represents women’s sexuality as bearers of life. In explicitly giving a god a split tail, Tesfaye is reclaiming mermaids as a positive representation of women and their sexuality.

the intended end for pregnant women 4:06
Reformation as mermaids 4:32
The third eye 4:40

“The Water Will Carry Us Home” re-imagines the brutal end that White western oppressors intended for pregnant women aboard their ship. (4:06) She re-gifts them life twice: by rendering them as mermaids (4:32) and by telling their stories. Reimagining their savage death with the formation of mermaids reclaims History by undermining their erasure. Closer examination of the mermaids after their rebirth shows that they all have a third eye. (4:40) In Yoruban culture, the third eye is the eye of the ancestors. Restoring these women as ancestors means they spawn descendants. Their genes and their stories are passed on. The dialogue of the atrocities of the Middle Passage is silenced because it is not something that society wants in conversation. It is common to cover up cruelty, especially in the case of mainstream society being the hand of that cruelty. Recreating these women as ancestors ceases the attempted erasure at the hands of the oppressor and reclaims History.

newspaper clippings 3:05
newspaper clippings 2:59
Yemaya grabs the white flower 4:58
Tesfaye throwing flowers 5:20

Throughout the film, real newspaper clippings are used to ground the animation in history. (3:05), (2:59) Tesfaye wants the audience to bear in mind that this is a historical narrative. In addition to the newspaper clippings, Tesfaye uses her ritual framings to ground the story in authenticity. At the end of the animation the Orisha Yemaya is clutching a white flower. (4:58) Then, cut to Tesfaye, throwing white flowers into the ocean. (5:20) Showing Yemaya interacting with one of the flowers that the living Tesfaye is throwing into the ocean further establishes the re-imagining into reality. Grounding the notion that this Orisha is out there as well as the emancipated mermaids. In addition, her ritual settles the account into reality when she is within the locked door. (5:45) In the beginning the live action is shown before the story is unlocked. Afterwards, Tesfaye is locked into the narrative, (5:57) suggesting the story’s reality, grounding the narrative, reclaiming history.

The last clip of Tesfaye 5:45
The doors locking her into the story 5:57

Telling the story of the Middle Passage in a digestible way operates to preserve the ancestry of people who were intended for an unrecoverable death. Lineage is continued when those thrown overboard are re-gifted with life during their mermaid transformation. Reclaiming life in turn reclaims History and narrative. Illustrating mermaids as bearers of life rather than destroyers of it upends the church’s aim to decenter the feminine. Tesfaye presents a positive representation of female sexuality with her mother mermaids. Reclamation of mermaids through an African perspective confutes the White western oppression of erasure.

Discovery #2: The Color Red in The Little Mermaid

In Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale, The Little Mermaid, we see life from under the sea through the youthful and curious eyes of the little mermaid. Several of her experiences are enhanced through the use of color, descriptive nature, and her connection to nature, such as the one she has with her garden. The little mermaid’s garden is what grounds her in her environment, rooting her existence in her natural world, which also serves as a place for her to find emotional comfort and refuge. The recurring use of the color red throughout Andersen’s story is used as a literary device to flag transformation, danger, and perhaps the most obvious, love. As red is also the color of human blood, the repetitive use of red indicates the little mermaid’s anticipation and desire to join the upper world, and be one with the humans. It is important to look into the use of the color red throughout the story because we are able to better visualize and understand the emotional turmoil and pain that the little mermaid endures, almost always being described right before huge life altering events, marking transformations within her life as she has always known it, towards the unnatural state of being human. 

From the beginning of the story we are introduced to the little mermaid’s living quarters, which naturally included the color red, “In front of the palace was a large garden with bright red and dark blue trees, whose fruit glittered like gold, and whose blossoms were like fiery sparks […]” (Andersen, Pg. 109), the color first being mentioned in yet another pivotal place in the little mermaid’s life, the garden. The little mermaid had a garden where she planted, “[…] red flowers that resembled the sun above […]” (Andersen, Pg. 109), as well as, “[…] a bright red weeping-willow beside the statue […]” (Andersen, Pg. 109), the white marble statue being of a handsome young man, reminiscent of the young human prince that the little mermaid would eventually meet, and fall desperately in love with. One could perceive the sun, not to mention its color, as a sign of her blossoming into her womanhood. Opening herself to lust and desire, which holds symbolic meaning within the marble statue of the man, given that this statue is one of the only items that she claimed, meaning it held a deeper meaning to her. An important thing to note as well is how the red weeping-willow that she had planted beside the statue represents the tears the little mermaid would never be able to shed around her love, the prince, as she was incapable of expressing her emotions through tears, “[…] the mermaid heaved a deep sigh, for tears she had none to shed” (Andersen, Pg. 125), since mermaids were not able to cry. The weeping-willow, besides the garden as a whole, being an outlet for her emotions, frustrations towards her reality of not being a human, and absent ‘tears’ to shed.

While there are several occasions within the story where red marks the beginning, a revelation, or the end of a factor within the little mermaid’s life, there seems to be three main points in which the color red served as a mark for a big change or development within her life. The first occasion being her introduction to her soon to be lover, the young, handsome prince celebrating on a ship on her turf, the sea. When the little mermaid had reached the age of maturity at fifteen, her grandmother allowed her to rise to the surface where she then saw and became enamored by the prince, frightened, yet pulled in by a scenery engulfed in the color red, “She had never seen such fireworks before; large suns were throwing out sparks, beautiful fiery fishes were darting through the blue air, and all these wonders were reflected in the calm sea below” (Andersen, Pg. 114). She had been so entranced by the young prince to the point where, “ […] the little mermaid could not take her eyes off the ship or the handsome prince” (Andersen, Pg. 114), her first introduction to desire, giving into her sexuality, yearning for a being she found attractive at a time where she was now deemed as sexually mature within the context of mermaid society’s standards. This trance had continued till the eventual shipwreck where the prince had almost drowned, and the little mermaid had saved him, bringing him towards the surface where, “The sun rose red and beaming from the water, and seemed to infuse life into the prince’s cheeks” (Andersen, Pg. 115). The color red here signifying the beginning to what will be the start of emotionally tolling circumstances for the little mermaid. 

Secondly, following the little mermaid’s introduction to the young prince was her seed of curiosity, which had been planted and nurtured by the love she had for the prince, was beginning to grow wildly. This yearning and wild curiosity was reflected within her garden post-prince revelation, “Her only consolation was to sit in her little garden and to fling her arm round the beauteous marble statue that was like the prince; but she ceased to tend her flowers, and they grew like a wilderness all over the paths, entwining their longs stems and leaves […]” (Andersen, pg. 116), the wild nature of her garden embodying the current state that she found herself in, anxious and conflicted over a man who she doesn’t even know, yet would go to great lengths to meet, “ I would willingly give all the hundreds of years I may have to live, to be a human being […] and to see the beautiful flowers, and the red sun” (Pg. 118). This wild state of mind that the little mermaid found herself in was fueled not only by the prince, but by other details she had become aware of. While on a search for the prince after an in on his whereabouts on the surface, she saw within the prince’s palace, “In the middle of the principal room, a large fountain threw up its sparkling jets as high as the glass cupola in the ceiling, through which the sun shone down upon the water, and on the beautiful plants flowing in the wide basin that contained it” (Andersen, Pg. 117). The little mermaid seeing the large fountain, the contained plants, and the sun all were the final sign for the little mermaid to give herself the green light to continue onward with the beginning of her transformation into becoming a human. While the little mermaid tended to her own garden below the sea, she also realizes that she is also capable of bringing the life she knows at sea, on land given the details within the prince’s palace that match her life at sea.

Lastly, after much heartbreak, emotional turmoil, the revelation to her that her prince would never truly love her like a different maiden, “She would be the only one that I could love in this world’ but your features are like hers, and you have driven her image out of my soul” (Andersen, Pg. 125), the little mermaid has called off this internal battle she has built within herself, alone, in silence, and had decided to end his life in order to regain back hers back at sea. True to form of the story, in order for the little mermaid to return to her natural state, she must follow the sorceresses advice to use blood of the prince, “[…] warm blood shall besprinkle your feet, they will again close up into a fish’s tail, and you will be a mermaid once more […]” (Andersen, Pg. 128), the same sorceress who had helped her turn into human form. As she approached the prince, “The little mermaid lifted the scarlet curtain of the tent […] She gave the prince one last, dying look, and then jumped overboard, and felt her body dissolving into foam” (Andersen, Pg. 129). As the final selfless act of her love she ended her life, and allowed the prince to carry on his life with a partner who wasn’t her. The scarlet, or red curtain, like the closing curtain at the end of a play on stage, symbolized the end of her life rather than of the princes’. 

One can see consistently throughout the storyline how Andersen’s use for color helped shine significant moments within the life of the little mermaid. Whether it showed up within small details such as the colors of the flowers within her garden, or the blood from the prince she would need to transform yet again, red’s purpose as a literary device served as a beautifully descriptive marker. While the meaning behind the color may not have been consistent within each use in the story, the marker or change, transformation, or death held great power.

Seeing Through the Mask

In William Cronon’s ‘The Trouble with Wilderness’, the author explains that what people see as pure nature is actually shaped by human culture. He writes, “wilderness hides its unnaturalness behind a mask that is all the more beguiling because it seems so natural” (7). This image of the mask helps readers understand how humans cover up their own role in creating what they call nature. Cronon argues that seeing wilderness as pure is a dangerous illusion because it lets people ignore their own responsibility for environmental change. By showing how beauty and deception work together in this idea of wilderness, he suggests readers to look closely at their own beliefs and see how imagination shapes the world we think we are simply observing.

Cronon’s words make readers feel the difference between what is truly natural and what only seems natural. The word mask has two sides, it can hide something, but it can also make it look more appealing. When he describes the mask as beguiling, the word adds a feeling of temptation. This shows that humans are not just fooled by nature’s appearance, they want to believe in it. It reminds readers that what looks natural might actually be constructed. Even the structure of the sentence works like the mask itself, beautiful on the outside, but hiding something more complex beneath.

Cronon expands this idea when he writes that wilderness “seems to offer an escape from history and the self, when in fact it is the product of precisely that history” (8). This sentence shows that our idea of wilderness comes from culture and time, not from nature itself. Cronon suggests readers to notice how their sense of pure nature is built by human stories. Later, he writes, “the dream of an unworked natural landscape is very much the fantasy of people who have never themselves had to work the land” (11). The word fantasy connects back to the earlier image of the mask. It suggests that this illusion of untouched nature often comes from privilege and distance. People who do not depend on the land can afford to imagine it as pure and unworked. Cronon’ criticizes this way of thinking, showing how human fantasy turns nature into something unreal.

The mask also represents how modern society separates people from the natural world. Cronon points out that people idealize wilderness because they live apart from it. By calling it sacred or untouched, they make nature seem distant from everyday life. The mask, then, becomes a symbol of denial, a way to hide human influence on the environment. He suggests the idea of pure wilderness hides the fact that humans have already shaped it. I thought that Cronon uses this metaphor to show that the line between human and natural is not real, but imagined.

In conclusion, the mask is not only about wilderness but about how people see the world. Cronon reminds readers that language and culture shape what we call truth. Wilderness may look untouched, but that is because we have imagined it that way. By removing the mask, Cronon asks readers to see nature not as a fantasy or escape, but as part of the same world we live in, one that requires care, respect, and shared responsibility.

Discovery 2

A traditional story often focuses on a main character who learns to evolve through self-discovery or character development, and the mermaid is a great example of this. In Yu-Gi-Oh!, the trading card game, the gameplay focuses on how well each card synergizes with another in order to defeat an opponent, but a key component is a card’s artwork and how that artwork reflects the deck’s strategy. My favorite deck I recently decided to play is Tearlaments and their heavily lore-driven, expansive narrative.

The core story of the deck is that a mysterious being from another world named Visas Starfrost is searching across the universe for fragments of his emotions and memories. We come to find, through other decks such as Tearlaments, that these fragments have become their own personalities that emphasize the darker nature Visas Starfrost has forgotten, while each planet’s inhabitants represent different aspects of the protagonist’s emotions. The Tearlaments, being mermaids, inhabit the primeval planet Perlereino and are defending their world from the invaders known as Kashtira, who have come to enslave the inhabitants and capitalize on their resources. While the deck’s artwork builds a story of identity, the deck’s strategy encapsulates the metaphor of transformation.

The main strategy is to send Tearlaments monsters from the player’s Main Deck to the Graveyard in order to trigger their effects there. These effects shuffle other Tearlaments monsters back into the deck to summon even more powerful monsters from the Extra Deck, which can then shuffle the opponent’s monsters back into their deck. The name “Tearlaments” is a portmanteau of “tear,” “tiara,” “lament,” and “firmament.” Each idea appears in different aspects of the game. A player may feel devastated after losing a monster they invested resources into, and when the Tearlaments themselves feel lament in being sent to the Graveyard, they are reborn as stronger monsters with powerful effects. This strategy reflects much of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid, in which the unnamed mermaid laments not being with the prince and sacrifices her own desires, ultimately transforming into a wind spirit with far greater power than she had as a mermaid.

While the artwork of the deck shows how Visas Starfrost must come to terms with his emotions, it also shows that each of his counterparts is not evil but angry that he had cast away these aspects of himself and is now trying to reclaim them. The Tearlaments, depicted as mermaids, are shown wearing lockets symbolizing their enslavement, and the actions taken against them represent the sadness or sorrow invoked in their name. Through encountering these creatures and fighting alongside them to defeat his counterpart Tearlaments Reinoheart, Visas Starfrost comes to realize that accepting sadness and transforming it becomes a powerful asset, similar to the Tearlaments’ strategy of transforming themselves into stronger monsters. Like mermaids, who traditionally transform themselves into humans or transform the world around them, individuals must determine whether their own transformations are beneficial or harmful to themselves and to those around them.

The card game designs the Tearlaments’ strategy to encapsulate transformation, identity, and emotional acceptance. By connecting these themes to The Little Mermaid, the Tearlaments show how sorrow, loss, and self-reflection can become a person’s source of strength rather than weakness. Visas Starfrost’s journey to reclaim his emotions reflects the Tearlaments’ ability to recover from destruction, reinforcing the idea that growth often requires confronting the parts of ourselves we try to reject. Through its intricate story and strategic depth, the deck becomes more than just an endless line of new cards and instead becomes a narrative about embracing change and discovering power in the very emotions that shape who we are.