Fleeting as Undine

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This weekend’s readings of “Undine” and “The Feejee Mermaid Hoax” from The Penguin Book of Mermaids stand out and provide connecting ideas for “Freakshows and Fantasies”. I find “Undine” the most interesting due to the elemental nature of Undine and their kin as well as its depiction of merfolk/water spirits.

Undine describes itself and their kin as beings who appear human and consider themselves human while having the ability to control different natural phenomena—at the downside of temporary existences of little consequence—lacking souls, and leaving now corpses when they die. This explanation of these beings seem to function with Christian cosmology, metaphysics, and potentially racial/cross cultural thinking in mind. I can see parallels between how Europeans and their descendants may have seen other groups of people, non-human life, and the environments they encountered during the ages of reason and discovery. Undine is essentially “subhuman” despite their great talents in much the same way that African, Asian, Indigenous American and Islander groups have been considered amidst the colonial periods. 

Both “The Feejee Mermaid Hoax” and “Freakshows and Fantasies” highlight skepticism, hoaxes, and changes in the public’s perception of merfolk/their place in the world rather than fully commit these ideas to observations that stand on their own. When considering both stories with “Undine”, we can consider mermaids/water spirits to be fleeting but powerful existences which exist under entirely different rules. Spirits that are provided souls by humans become fully human down to the corpse and eternal soul, whereas the forms left by hoaxes represent the not-quite-human forms merfolk were often considered to possess—especially when without their souls.

Undine: Affected by Your Surroundings.

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While there are many a siren and water spirit tales, the pattern tends to be the fact that there is a sense of betrayal and or seductive nature to them and after reading the section from Undine, it follows a similar structure to the other ones that have been included in “The Penguin Book of Mermaids.” Despite the common motifs, this specific section has more of an actual emotional complexity which makes the reveal that much more impactful compared to the other tales and this very depth is also explained by the overall atmosphere in which Huldbrand resides in.

Now, that is not to say that the relationship Sir Huldbrand and Undine was completely fabricated without any true intimacy, but should be mentioned that their environment and social status definitely made in impact on their lives. In instance in the tale where it is evident that their relationship was also shaped by their social status and atmosphere is when they are speaking about going their separate ways and Huldbrand is hesitant to do so, “‘remember, even if I wished to desert you, the church, and the spiritual powers, and the emperor, and the empire, would interpose and bring the fugitive back again'” (102). Considering that Huldbrand says this while they their is quite a significant flood going on, this as well could be an indication that he only stayed their and only planned it continue to be there because of the storm that was occurring in the meanwhile. As time goes on and Huldbrand begins to question himself and others, he continues to be a subject of his own environment due to how much he prioritizes what the people would say if they found out as well as the natural disasters that are impeding him from doing what he wants to do, which is to be his true self and leave the shore but once he realizes that he is a victim of his own mentality, it is too late.

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.

Week 7: Chapter 4 of Merpeople

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“Westerner’s approaches to merpeople between 1800 and 1830 remained tethered to Enlightenment notions of science and wonder” (Schribner 129). Chapter 4 of Merpeople described the previously commonly accepted culture and knowledge surrounding merpeople within a past era. Many of these beliefs were seen as normal back then, but would be absurd now. For example, the existence of mermaids was seen by many as a scientific fact and studied and pursued by actual scientists of the time. Nowadays, a scientist would be stripped of all credibility and mocked if they were to try and prove the existence of the mythical merpeople. Additionally, the fact that people were fooled by newspapers and stories about mermaids would also be an embarrassment nowadays, but was considered normal then. They also popularized freak shows for people’s entertainment, similar to a circus. Back in the day, freak shows consisted of more than just mermaids but anyone deemed “different” or intriguing, like people with disabilities or people from other countries. This connects to the problematic view of mermaids people had that extends beyond sexuality and gender, but rather capitalizing off of others.

This prompted me to think of things that we as a society do today that would be considered strange or “dumb” to future members of society. If back then mermaids seemed as real as the sky, who is to say what scientific facts we “know” today are actually true or not? The quote from the chapter on page 129 above made me realize how throughout history, people’s ideas of science and wonder are connected to the same ideas of the previous generation because everything builds on top of one another. What if the era prior to us was wrong about their scientific facts, creating a paradigm that is not completely true? Additionally, things that were socially acceptable then, like freak shows, are not acceptable now, making me wonder what we as a society do now that will later on become unacceptable (or maybe the other way around?). Another example I realized is how that people back then were easily fooled by word of mouth and newspapers about the sightings of mermaids. Nowadays, people are very easily fooled by AI, especially with how realistic and convincing the videos may be. I thought that maybe in the future, people would laugh at how gullible we seem today.

The Rise and the Collapse of Mermaid Belief in Chapter 4: “Freakshows and Fantasies”

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A significant statement from Chapter 4, “Freakshows and Fantasies” that stood out to me is when Scribner writes, “Just as Eades’s and Barnum’s mermaids brought the Western merpeople craze to fever pitch (in London and America, respectively), so too did they implode it.” The moment that a widely accepted belief and a communal sense of wonder turn into disbelief and ridicule represents a pivotal moment in the negotiated game of truth, spectacle, and cultural imagination in society.

The unraveling of the mermaid craze after Barnum’s Feejee Mermaid illuminated a key contradiction in the modernity of the nineteenth-century Western world: While scientific rationalism and mass media were increasing, the desire and demand for spectacle and sensationalism were growing too: Revelations of hoaxes would pivot popular excitement from sincerity to ironic attachments, while the mermaid would have a permanent place in cultural memory.

Barnum’s Feejee Mermaid was not in the least a curiosity which any scientist would have given a second thought. It was a marvel of its time, not because of any serious scientific claim, but because it was a perfectly constructed piece of “humbuggery.” This mermaid was the hybrid product of a monkey and a fish that was fervently marketed and unflinchingly defended by an elaborate publicity machine. The willingness of the public to believe, or at least put aside believing signifies a culture still deeply committed to wonders and the chance of their possible manufacture. Advancements in science and discoveries such as the platypus and the kangaroo were already eroding the line of what was reasonable and what was impossible, and the existence of the mermaid was only slightly less unbelievable than yesterday’s impossibility.

Still, the same media that fostered this wonderment were responsible for its demise. Gradually, scientific examination and exposé reporting revealed the truths behind the Feejee Mermaid and other fabricated stories. While discrediting the historical and cultural relevance of mermaids, they became objects of ridicule and symbols of credulity, and became a new topic of satire in the political arena.

roIn the nineteenth century, the surge in newspapers and periodicals facilitated the extension of, and ultimately, the erosion of belief in mermaids. Before 1845, stories about sightings of mermaids and similar tales were published with some credulity, excitement, and even with a willingness to be precise in scientific inquiry into the mermaids. However, when the hoaxes were revealed, we see newspapers have now shifted to mockery, not only of the myths themselves, but of the people who “believed” in those myths. This mockery does not remove mermaids form the public domain or remove belief either; it shows the transition from sincere belief to the thrill of disbelief. This displays how the media can go from inspiring curiosity to nullifying it (yet still keeping the topic alive in the public, albeit with some discredit).

The shift of mermaids from potential objects of wonder to objects of fraud and satire represents a larger trend in nineteenth-century Western culture. As science allegedly “banished” superstition, the same social processes – capitalism, mass media, and the hunger for spectacle – ensured the survival of the very figures they mocked. The mermaid, then, persists not as an object of belief but as a cultural icon that reminds us that even in a so-called age of reason, the distinctions between knowledge, entertainment, and belief are not clearly distinguished.

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.