“Sirenomelia, also called mermaid syndrome, is a rare congenital deformity…”

There are three individuals known to have survived infancy with Sirenomelia. They are the stars of inspirational documentaries, the subjects of research publications, and featured on blogs dedicated the the macabre. It goes without saying; humans are fascinated by disease, deformity, and abnormal morphology. We see these anomalies through various lenses; as symbols of strength in the face of adversity; as demonstrations of the state of medical technology, or merely as perversely, fascinatingly, bizarre. In any case, individuals with physical abnormalities are monsterified. They take on that role; non-human emblems, culturally imbued, figures which demonstrate something, make us aware of something, make us uncomfortable, demand our attention.

In one extreme, these real live Monsters are stripped entirely of their humanity– their individuality, their dignity. “Freak shows” are an example– the people responsible for the profits were often unpaid, especially if they were people of color, and, to the public, unnamed (The Bearded Lady, The Elephant Man)– treated as animals. In some cases, even, they become inanimate objects– the human value of respect for corpses does not extend to preserved specimens of monsters, such as these fetuses presenting Sirenomelia, preserved in the Medical Museum of Copenhagen. Preserved collections of biological specimens can be critical to studying and understanding disease. But these specimens are stored and displayed as curiosities; these prenatal humans were too strange to be buried. 1

Bringing the name of a medical condition this loaded into a short film representing a fantasy mermaid is a powerful choice. Škarnulytė portrays a graceful mermaid with a glittering tail, swimming powerfully through water barely above freezing. Her mermaid is not disabled, she is not a medical miracle, and she is not a guest on Oprah. But– she is also a monster. She operates to show us our world from a different angle– in fact, through this mermaid’s eyes, our “normal” world becomes as strange and fascinating as abnormal physiology. This defamiliarization (or distortion! 1:11) of things like satellite dishes (1:51), roads (2:43), and bridges (3:32) has a powerful effect; it allows us to bring everything to a level playing field– the human and nonhuman, the terrestrial and aquatic. Icebergs are as strange as ice-cutting ships. Trees are as strange as tunicates (3:14). From this new perspective, we see, briefly, unburdened by our associations, biases, our values, and our deeply programmed sense of “normal”. From this perspective, for a moment, we might see infants born with sirenomelia not as monsters, not as objects, but as babies, as strange and fascinating as all babies are.

Our instincts to collect, cultivate, categorize, and understand are powerful traits of our species. Those instincts are responsible for our technology. Our ability to form cultural values has allowed the unification of our societies. Our extreme sensitivity to “normality”, evidenced by the uncanny valley effect, the narrow threshold between normal and abnormal, is an artifact of remarkably powerful brains, capable of processing incredible amounts of information. Whether or not we assign positive or negative value to these human traits, we cannot escape them; they are part of being human.
However– every once in a while, we benefit from lifting those blinders; Sirenomelia is an opportunity for us to release the need to categorize, to pathologize, to separate water and air, to understand.


  1. What might different spiritual practices say about the fates of their souls, due to the lack of burial ritual? Undine, Melusine, and the Little Mermaid were born without souls, and ultimately each failed to acquire one. Do souls come from a pair of legs? ↩︎

Re-gift of Life

In “The Water Will Carry Us Home” Gabrielle Tesfaye re-gifts life to women who were left for dead in the Middle Passage. She re-gifts them life when she transforms them into mermaids, but she also re-gifts them life by telling their stories. The use of animation and the fantastical theme of mermaids gives a story that is painful, and because of that overlooked, a voice. 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. The theme of mermaids and continuation of life rather than death makes it less challenging to talk about, as well as share to future generations. Share to children who should, however painful, learn their people’s history. By continuing these abandoned mother’s existence in the sea, Tesfaye continues their existence in conversation for generations to come.

Tesfaye not only reclaims history but she reclaims mermaids. In other mermaid stories we have read, different cultures have used mermaids as warnings. Early Europe used them to warn of the dangers of women’s sexuality. They have been used to justify control of women’s bodies, environmental destruction, and even colonialism. To justify man’s dominion. But Tesfaye challenges traditional use of mermaids by using them to continue life rather than destroy it. Instead of a warning, Tesfaye’s mermaids are a representation of not just a tragedy, but a human tragedy. While our past mermaid stories have been about the other, Tesfaye’s mermaids are interconnected with human experience.

Depicting Omambala with a split tail furthers Tesfaye’s reclamation of mermaids. Split tails were generally used to negatively represent women’s sexuality. Giving a split tail to the God Omambala who renews life to these overboard women and children positively represents women’s sexuality as bearers of life.

Time and Decay

Sirenomelia is a video that shows a mermaid swimming through an old base under the Arctic, which is a place used to be full of people, machines, and noise, but now it is empty and silent. Watching the video, I felt that the film is about how time changes everything, even the strongest things that humans build eventually break down and fade away.

In the video, the base looks strong with its metal walls, pipes, and thick doors, but everything is slowly falling apart. The paint is cracked and the air feels heavy. I thought that these details show how time and nature are quietly taking back what humans made. It made me think that even though humans try to control nature with technology, time always wins in the end.

Also, I thought that the mermaid’s movement makes this feeling stronger. She moves slowly and gracefully, almost like she belongs there, even though the place was not meant for her. When she swims past the old machines, it feels like she is connecting two different worlds, the natural world and the human one. The way she moves makes the space feel softer and more peaceful. To me, the mermaid doesn’t seem sad about the ruins. Instead, she looks calm, as if she is saying that everything changes, and that’s okay. The base used to be a place for a power or technology, but it seems that for now, it has turned into something else, something quiet, still, and natural. I thought that the film shows that time doesn’t destroy, but it transforms.

In the end, this video made me think about how all the things we build are only temporary. Nature always comes back, and life continues in different forms. And I thought that the mermaid is a symbol of that change, moving through the ruins like a reminder that the world keeps going, even after us.

Sirenomelia: With or Without humans, something happens

While watching Video Art Visions: Sirenomelia, what came to mind was how we discussed in class how many people perceived the ocean as unchanging. Which by the modern age due to advancements in technology alongside a change of understanding, debunks this. The part I would like to focus on is the shot where the mermaid can be seen swimming in a canal (I think) marked with human influence. From the railings and inside the obviously man-made tunnels to it suddenly cutting to the greater ocean, devoid of anything but itself and water. It goes to show that things are happening away from human eyes. It goes on to show that with or without human influence history is still being made. Nature is an evermoving force and like time itself won’t stop. The mermaid exploring the NATO base before going into the ocean is like a view of our history.

But at the same time we humans still have a part in it. Showing the decommissioned and abandoned NATO base alongside multiple shots of the nature around it, harkens to the idea humanity and its legacy isn’t separate from nature. The ice and show blend in with the man-made things in a way that doesn’t necessarily try to cover or get rid of the constructs. Rather its like nature is accepting humanity’s creations before it eventually falls apart and rejoins with the Earth. In a similar manner to how when humans eventually die we’ll return to the same starting point once again.

Unite Human History of the Land and Ocean

In the video “The Water Will Carry Us Home,” the aspects that stand out to me in particular is the ending where she throws flowers into the ocean and ‘plugs’ her seashell headphones into the shoreline. Tesfaye’s ritual of ‘plugging’ her seashells into the ocean, allowing herself to listen and tune into the Ocean, illustrates a rhythmic bond between humans and the Ocean.

The scene of a woman tossing flowers into the ocean, as one would at a grave, illustrates the long history of human interaction with the ocean. She honors the ancestors who lost their lives crossing the ocean during the slave trade, and the mermaids welcomed their spirits. In doing so, this showcases how human history includes the ocean. Humans have bodies lying on the ocean floor, just like the ones lying in the ground. This frames our thinking about recognizing the history that lies while crossing the ocean, not just the triumph of finding land. The experience within the ship life, and around it. Discussing the ideas of politics on the ship, and the bodies that were thrown or jumped off the ship. These key details add to our relationship with the ocean. Especially during the slave trade, where people were thrown into the ocean, showcasing how humans saw the ocean as a dumping ground. The ocean floor served as a resting place for those souls, taking better care of their bodies than those ships ever would. So, the woman’s ritual of tossing flowers into the ocean is an act of gratitude for the ocean taking care of our ancestors. Her visit to the beach is a ritual to honor the history of the ocean, delicately embracing the bodies of the past.  

Then, the scene of the woman putting on and plugging the seashell headphones into the shoreline demonstrates her tuning into the ocean, allowing her to hear the voices of the ocean. This action showcases this harmonious relationship humans could establish with the ocean if they care to listen. The ocean has become a home for many human bodies to rest, so we must honor its history with ours. If humans allow themselves to sync with the ocean, grow and transform alongside it, while we exist within this present allows us to unify with the land and sea.

Transfaye’s ritual in “The Water Will Carry Us Home” honors and listens to the ocean, establishing the unification of human and ocean history, showcasing the rhythmic bond between humans and the ocean.

The Water Is Alive

In the breathtaking short film “The Water Will Carry Us Home”, we are met with the history of Africans who were brutally thrown off a slavr ship while sailing through the Middle Passage. In the film, their souls are saved by a passing mermaid; not only were the adults saved, but the unborn children they carried.

This story was absolutely amazing! Stop motion has got to be my favorite kind of filming, next to claymations. I thought the most fascinating part of the film was around 4:15, where the mermaid came into contact with the Africans who were pushed into the waters. The idea that the mermaid was able to save their souls and essentially turn them into mermaids was my favorite part. To see mermaids as this kind of “water savior” is something that really catches my interest. Especially because of what we have talked about in class with Sirens and sometimes mermaids being seen as monstrous creatures. Taking on the tale of mermaids saving lost humans and saving their souls to be one with the waters is awesome.

This short film helps further the idea that water tells a story; it’s something that encapsulates all of its own history. The mermaid in this story gave the lost people a sense of purpose and another chance at life. Almost like the water was their escape, it gave them a newfound freedom, as well as a place where they could feel they belonged. I also love that this film more accurately portrays mermaids than how we are conditioned to seeing them. This film really embodied the black history of mermaids and the tale behind the life of water. Can’t wait to talk about this in class!!

Song of the Week: Lure of the Siren by Mo Coulson, Chris Conway (This song is exactly what you’d expect, except I like the fact that it isn’t eerie, but it’s enticing in a non-threatening way if that makes sense)

The Mermaid and the Base

In Emelijia Škarnulytė’s short film “Sirenomelia,” around minute four and a half, there is an incredibly evocative moment when a mermaid is sen very quietly moving through the long, deserted passage within an unused NATO submarine base. The juxtaposition of the fluid and organic form of the mermaid with cold, mechanical environment generates such a compelling image of form, vulnerability, and strength all at once. This challenging moment converts a space that was designed to uphold military strength into a space of positive beauty that one does not expect. This important moment encapsulates the film’s central message; that new forms of life (even if mythical) or historically based realities can reclaim and reimagine spaces that have been socially and culturally shaped by conflict and human history. Furthermore, “Sirenomelia” argues that spaces clearly marked by human violence and power need not remain stagnant, but can be reimagined by beings with adaptive capabilities as species of newfound meaning, intersectionality, resilience, and hope.

The film engages audiences in exploring how spaces devoid of human action might not remain empty but could contain possibilities for other forms of life–with ecological adaptation and mythological re-enchantment in mind. Škarnulytė makes use of the mermaid–a reference to both the rare congenital condition of sirenomelia and also myth–as a symbol of transformation and survival that extends beyond notions of the human. By situating this character, the mermaid, in an abandons Cold War military base, the film proposes a challenge to the prior human power of the past, raising the possibility of surpassing internecine conflict and the potential for coexistence and meaning beyond the human.

For different moments in the film, the absence of human actors compels the audience to reflect on anthropocentric narratives, stating alternate futures in which the human and nonhuman worlds cohere. The wordless mermaid drifting through this antagonistic, masculine landscape signifies the influence of flexible, creative beings (in this case–a mermaid) to mend the wrecked worlds–turning violent spaces in trauma zones to places of stillness and hopeful transformation. The films cinematic techniques with lighting and sound are appropriated and employed within there stagings to amplify the transformation. For example, the harsh shadows and resonating silence emphasize the desolation in the spaces; the gentle gestures of the mermaid’s movement operate as a contrast and bring some humanity back to the old spatial base it passes through.

Additionally, the movie also employs symbols and setting to express how human legacy has the capacity to be both devastating and a source of potential for new life. The retired submarine base, a symbol of Cold War militarism, stands in as a monument to the remains of human warfare and a biocultural imperialism of technology. The mermaid’s representation, however, offers a promise of regeneration and transformation–a future where myth and the natural milieu can exist alongside remnants of human history. This scene at 4:30 especially serves as a metaphor for the larger theme of “Sirenomelia”: that remnants of human conflict can be reimagined anew, through more complex stories, and imaging of life beyond binaries of power and dominance, with a vision of the future based on adaptation and interrelation.

The Ocean as Memory: Tesfaye Reclaiming History Through Water

Gabrielle Tesfaye’s short film “The Water Will Carry Us Home” focuses on the Igbo peoples time on a slave ship through the middle passage, and who were thrown out to the sea. Tesfaye’s depiction of this story de-centers land as the main source of history on earth, and instead portrays the ocean as an ancestral world of transformation. There is fluidity to her imagery, with floating figures, womb-like forms, and gentle water coloring creating a space of rebirth, continuity, and liberation for a people considered lost to history (3:56).

The setting in the given frame isn’t merely a backdrop but a fully lived in, active, and inhabited world. The use of water color dissolves borders and boundaries and creates something more fluid and alive, contrasting that of the static and grounded imagery associated with land. In western civilization history is written on and in monuments and borders, it is fixed and owned. Imagery in the short film rejects that, through the frame ancestry is something in motion and situated in memory rather than geography. By turning to water, Tesfaye implores her audience to “see” in a decolonized point of view. In resisting the idea that home, belonging, and history are anchored to land one remembers the history of people thrown to the sea. There are people, such as the Igbo people, whose history—usually that of migration—is tied to the ocean. In this case, the ocean is a sort of archive without any edges where spirits go to live, transform and remember. 

What is most striking in the frame is the curled, womb-like figures. Though these women’s bodies were tossed in the sea with intentions of death, the imagery of the figures suggests a sense of rebirth despite not being on solid ground of earth. These forms are untethered, they float in suspension emphasizing a weightlessness compared to a rootedness. Furthermore, many of the figures cradle their wombs; their nurture is literally happening in water much like how we are born from the water in the womb. The ocean itself becomes a symbol of the womb, a sight of gestation instead of intended destruction from Western colonizers. Western ideology often imagines birth and creation coming from solid ground, Adam from Earth and civilization from soil for example. Tesfaye shifts this land centric point of view to that of creation from the sea. This aligns more closely to African mythologies where water spirits (such as Omambala) embody life and power. The given frame, specifically, reframes the Ocean as a source giving life rather than devouring it, offering a counter narrative to that of a Westernized history. The Igbo people are depicted as a part of history that lives on instead of lost souls in the sea. 

Tesfaye’s short film invites the audience to rethink how history is written. That a terra centric history is not the only history just because it is what is most commonly taught. The enslaved people who were thrown out to sea have a history, and though it may not be on land it lives on. “The Water Will Carry Us Home” is a short film that asks people to see a history of water and the sea, one beyond Westernized ideology.

Perspective of the Mermaid

The short film Sirenomelia shows the disappearing face of nature caused by human industrialization through the figure of a mermaid. The mermaid is no longer just a mythical being but a symbol of the natural world that humans have ignored. She represents a non-human perspective that traces the remains of human activity. By making the mermaid the main focus of the film, the director allows us to step outside a human-centered way of seeing and notice how human society and nature are deeply connected.

The film begins with fragments of a military base, an artificial structure that represents both the achievements and the damage left by human civilization. The next scene shows melting glaciers collapsing into the sea, quietly revealing a cause-and-effect relationship between human-made objects and the destruction of nature. Human technology and progress have tried to control nature, but what remains are corroded ruins and the fading ecosystems around them. Through this contrast between human society and nature, Emilija Škarnulytė helps the audience feel what humans have done to the environment without using any words.

The scene that caught my attention the most is between 3:08 and 3:45. In this part, the mermaid herself does not appear, but the camera slowly moves through the underwater ruins of the base as if we are seeing the world through her eyes. When the camera looks up from under the water, the human structures above the surface appear distorted and unstable. This made me realize that although human civilization may look strong and permanent from our own viewpoint, from nature’s perspective it is fragile and temporary. This change in perspective shows how unstable the human order built upon nature really is. Nature is not a silent background or a passive victim. It carries the marks of human ambition and violence and continues to exist with those scars. Even when the mermaid is absent, her gaze seems to guide the camera and reminds us that humans are no longer the center of the story. Through this underwater viewpoint, the film breaks the boundary between humans and nature and shows a world where nature continues to live while holding the wounds left by humans.

In the end, Sirenomelia criticizes humanity’s desire to dominate nature and invites us to look at the world from nature’s point of view. It reminds us that nature is not just a resource or a background for human use but an equal presence that exists alongside us in shaping the world we live in.

Human (or) Nature

The most stand out part of Sirenomelia is the abrupt shift of visual about half-way through. While it begins on this beautiful scene of ice, although melting at the result of global warming and various human contributed factors, there’s a sudden shift once the siren, who I presumed to be Sirenomelia, appears.

The total juxtaposition of scenery really emphasizes how humanity seems to overtake everything, and the same point that has been discussed ad nauseam in class: humanity craves to be completely separate and disconnected from that around us. The arctic’s peacefulness is truly emphasized because we watch it, completely silent and still, for so long. No dialogue, no human intervention, the entire scenery truly forces humanity to recognize how abundant the environment is. Because of its distance, of its unintentional border from most human life, recognition of the arctic seems to fall out of realm of understanding. It’s known that it’s icy, that it faces extreme disaster with the recent climate crises, but beyond that, many people, especially those who don’t actually seem to care about the climate, cannot truly conceptualize any issues.

It’s almost for this reason that Sirenomelia doesn’t really appear in complete view until the shift has occurred, and feels representative of this human border drawn between the natural and the mortal. The siren, this creature that humans aim to completely separate of our experience despite being half human, cannot even be associated with anything too natural. It’s as if the human part of her will never be allowed to reach this level of absoluteness of nature, nor can she ever be entirely immersed in the capitalistic, terrestrial so she lies in this murky in between that we consider “other”. The dirty water that lies beneath bridges, that comes between random buildings and concrete fixtures far enough from society that we forget about them too.

Truly, Sirenomelia feels like yet another representation of how we desire to absolve ourselves from the idea of nature, how human behavior should be an entirely separate class because we desire wholeness when it comes to us. Time and time again, it is our selfish nature to be this top predator, to be the principle that everything must be compared to for definition, that drives this wedge between what should be apart of us, and what we are absolutely a part of.