Mermaids are Trans

A certain line from the introduction of the Penguin Book of Mermaids clung to me like seagrass tangled in hair today.

“At stake in these stories is the female merbeing’s existence between worlds… …her ability to cross the threshold into the world of humans and “pass” there as human while never fully belonging.” Penguin Book of Mermaids, Introduction (p xviii)

I will root my appreciation of this line in Embodied Practice and personal life history– specifically, my thoughts today snorkeling in La Jolla Cove, and my existence as a transgender man.

I feel that the transformation becomes more complete every time I enter the water. I feel the rubber fins become more a part of my body; either I am shaping to them or they to me– my feet no longer chafe, my calves no longer cramp. I feel my skin adapting as well– adjusting to the salt, no longer drying. I feel my ears grow more adept at shedding or accepting water, or air, my sinuses equalizing with less and less effort. In a light wetsuit in warm, sunlit water, I am completely unaware of my body temperature, or the energy I am expending to maintain it– I wonder if it is possible to experience homeostasy as cold-bloodedness (a misleading name; ectotherms have warm blood as often as cold, they just don’t control it).
A part of me feels painfully aware that I am experiencing only a shadow of the aquatic state. My fins are only prosthetic; when I take them off to lend them to a friend I feel amputated, halved. Though I’m adept now at expending very little energy in the ocean, I realize that without my snorkel I would tire quickly, the two hours I spent today might have been quartered.
As advanced as I am in my transition, no surgery can change my chromosomes. I will always be a hybrid.

“We humans do not deal well with betwixt and between- liminality makes us
anxious,”
Penguin Book of Mermaids, p xi

Still, I am transfixed by the damning assessment of a proto-avian dinosaur fossil in a short story I read last week–
“What a thing, half bird, half lizard, part one thing, part another, trapped forever between more perfect states” Mkondo, Anthony Doerr

At first I asked myself– is it truly so terrible to be not a man and not a woman. To be in the water but not a fish. Then I asked myself– is it truly a natural state? To be un-hybrid. I feel myself, like the dinosaur, between the initial embryonic femaleness of every human and the eventual maleness of some of them. Between the aquatic past of tetrapods and the eventual aquatic present of some mammals.

Mermaids may be a construct, but hybridity is not. Being of two worlds– that is the natural state. The idea that there are dichotomous, segregated, discreet “perfect” states of existence– that is a construct as well.

The Serpent, the wife, the hero

In The Penguin Book of Mermaids, Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown, emphasize that “The cross-cultural dynamics of water-spirits stories can help loosen the hold of the all-too-popular reading of the siren or mermaid across time as a symbol of dangerous femininity (xv).” Reading diverse myths of water spirits, not only broadens the scope of hybridity, but teaches us about that culture’s values, ways of life, and beliefs, offering a different way of being and existing than the cannon of western (european) mythology, religion, and literature (and its views on gender) has restricted us to. 

In the polynesian story of “the Tuna(eel) of lake Vaihiria” the princess, daughter of the Sun and Moon, is promised to marry, and discovers her husband is a giant eel. In the first North American tale, “The Horned Serpent Runs away with a girl who is rescued by the Thunderer” the serpent is a shape shifter, who lures away a young woman with the promise of marriage, but is discovered to be serpent who traps her in his lair. In the next, Passamaquoddy tale, a woman is secretly in love with a great serpent who she visits nightly, and transfuses his poison to her ill-fated husbands. 

These stories were interesting because of the way they subverted my own notions of water spirits as a female temptress, and discussed how women might be seduced by men. This lesson discussed by polynesian and north american cultures, were important in identifying the options and agency that women had in different cultures. The differences in running away from the serpent suitor and defying one’s parents (polynesian) communicates the importance in a woman asserting her independence, whereas running away with the snake/man hybrid in defiance of one’s parent (North American) both end in being rescued by a warrior and settling down with the chosen man, or hero. What interested me while I read through the ancient myths of the mermaid, was that they discussed the expectations of marriage, relationships between men and women, and deception. The water serpent, a common figure amongst cultures around the world, has phallic connotations, and flips the modern script that female water beings were strictly presented as seductive temptresses of human men.

Week 3: Mermaids and Views on Love

A passage that caught my eye in the introduction of The Penguin Book of Mermaids was “These [mermaid] tales speak to the discrepancy between men’s longing for a woman unfettered by social mores and their attempt to control her by domesticating her” (xvii). This sentence is an illumination on how in folklore, mermaids stories often reflect the patriarchal desire to fold unruly femininity back in the bounds of the control of men.

I find Bacchilega’s word choice rather intriguing as “domesticating” suggests the taming of a wild creature, stripping it away from what makes it free in favor for instilling more desirable traits. Even the attraction to a “woman unfettered” is more about the alluring fantasy that ultimately ends in the mermaids containment. It goes to show the discrepancy that the very freedom that men desire is not one they would allow to persist.

Later in the introduction, the author then goes on to state how “when the wife is instead an ‘animal bride’…the marriage fails because her domestication as a human wife and mother does not succeed in eradicating…her desire to be in her own skin and element” (xix). This passage exemplifies the limits of patriarchal control and how suppression cannot erase identity.

With these two passages, it shows how mermaid tales are a reflection of men’s fear and fascination of women’s autonomy. This reading makes clear that these tales are a mirror of the patriarchal urge to domesticate these “free women”, however yet, they also portray the enduring spirit of these women in not fully erasing their identity

Week 3: Hybrid Uncanney Valley

It is almost like Cristina Bacchilega and Maria Alohalani Brown read my mind from last week. In their Introduction chapter of The Penguin Book of Mermaids, Bacchilega and Alohalani Brown write, “There is something deeply unsettling about a being whose form merges with the non-human. Whether they dwell in fresh or salt water, aquatic humanoids raise questions about what it is to be human and what lies beyond a human-centered world. Physically, they are both like and unlike us” (xi). This is something I touched on last week in my blog post, focusing on how Scribner observes the human interest in hybridity. Here, in Bacchilega and Alohalani Brown’s introduction, they agree with Scribner’s astute observation on hybridity, putting more of an emphasis on how, not only are we interested in the mermaid’s hybridity, but we are astonished, and, in a deeper sense, somewhat unsettled because of this merging with the familiar and unfamiliar.

Bacchilega and Alohalani Brown go on to say, “We humans do not deal well with betwixt and between—liminality makes us anxious. We prefer our world organized into well-ordered and sharply defined categories, and we prefer to be in charge of it. Nonetheless, we are strangely drawn to the other, who is in part a mirror image of us and appears within reach, even if mentally ungraspable” (xi). While, yes, the hybridity of the mermaid—and other mythological creatures, for that matter—does make us uneasy most of the time, it is the peculiarity and similarity that draw us to the mermaid.

Humans have, and likely always will be, drawn to mermaids. Whether it is their similarity or difference to us, there is something so alluring about their mix with something we know of (separately, a human and a fish). But together, we still get this uncanney-valley-like feeling when we think about mermaids. They are like us from the waist-up, but from the waist-down, they are something completely different. We like to be in control, according to Bacchilega and Alohalani Brown, but also, we are “drawn to the other” (xi). This fascination will never die, as long as we crave something otherworldly and unlike our natural world.

Week 3: The Penguin Book of Mermaids

In the introduction to The Penguin Book of Mermaids, I found the duality between our curiosity surrounding mermaids, and our fearing the unknown to be interesting. The first story alone that we are introduced, Lorelei’s Tale, is a testament to this. A beautiful maiden who is betrayed, accused of being a witch (shocker), and decided to kill herself in a strong act of love, is then turned into a cautionary tale to warn men of the alluring echos coming from that cliff. Couldn’t Lorelei just do this act in peace without it being turned into a tale portraying her as a “villain” mermaid attempting to kill men? It was bad enough already that she was betrayed, let alone took her own life. While this may be all fiction, and Lorelei may have never existed, the fear surrounding the tale seems to directly play into the fear of unknown, sparking curiosity. Almost as though curiosity is what drowned the cat. Man may be lured, but they took the steps to get themselves drowned.

Besides the fear mongering that surrounds mermaids, their habitat alone also sparks even more curiosity. The fact that we do not know what 90% or more of what the ocean looks like, and inhabits, only adds to this narrative. If say mermaid were purely fictional, and were only created for the sole purpose to serve as a cautionary tale, their natural habitat being the ocean was a nice touch. As the text perfected stated, “[…] the human-fish or human-snake hybrid is all the more a monster because its element is water, which is both a life source and a mystery that humans are transported by but cannot fully inhabit”. Think about it, if there was a way for humans to inhabit the ocean, you best believe that humans would take whatever infrastructure, resources, and systems merpeople have in place, and no longer fear them. Humans, or man, are really the enemy. Not the merpeople. Again, circling back to Lorelei, she may have simply been misunderstood and was grieving, but in turn she was labeled a witch, maybe could have also been called a “harlot”, as sirens were once labeled as well.

Week 3 Reading Reflection

My main takeaway is from pg.xiii from The Penguin Book of Mermaids and how René Magritte painted a mermaid with the upper body of a fish and lower body of an exposed human woman’s legs. Forewarning, I do go off on a small tangent about something that my mind couldn’t stop thinking of later on.. So here we go! 

I searched up the image and golly, it doesn’t seem right. But, that’s because we’ve been fed this whole other image that encapsulates beauty. Meanwhile, this art piece seems abnormal and uncomfortable to look at. Naming it “The Collective Invention” is diabolical, because of how surreal this image looks.It feels sarcastic as like the artist is giving a wake up call for the public to question their own acceptance of mermaids as a common concept in society. Maybe, from a physical characteristic standpoint of why mermaids were accepted other than men are perverted and strongly dislike women. Is that all the mermaids I’ve seen so far have a human face.. familiarity feels safe enough to have some guard down and have clouded judgement on what is considered normal. Just as how Christianity adopted some pagan beliefs to attract / convert pagan followers. Hence, having a bigger following is to gain more power over people and the environment. 

Another theory I have as to why mermaids are portrayed as women from their waist upwards other than already having a merman existing,and human nature with the attraction to female anatomy. Why, for the most part, do mermaids have a woman’s torso and long luscious locks? Encapsulating the breast and hair is widely significant because that is a part of the mermaid’s identity according to society. This question puts me back to how the Christian churches went out of their way to disintegrate femininity but didn’t want to ruin the image of Mother Mary. Is it because she brought comfort and is the mother of Jesus Christ? Is she a hidden reason to have mermaids be shaped the way they are? Why were we told sirens have an enchanted voice? Surely, their voice isn’t the only feature that held the attention of humans? Is it because women bring a sense of comfort to men? Of course, I don’t have the answer but this concept just rattles my brain because disregarding the sexual urges from men regarding mermaids/merepeople and male merepeople already existing .. Why else are mermaids shaped the way they are? Someone tell me why!?! 

Anyways, if you’ve made it this far, I appreciate you for your time! <3

Chapter 1 introduction to Mermaids and humans

In this chapter where it introduces how does society works with people who are Mermaids and Humans have differences and what they about this is usually through the Human perspective is only one people pay attention to. I personally didn’t really know how seperate they are as mythical creatures. The fact that hybridity is the balance between both mythological and scientific camps.

A Mermaids Body is the Blame for Male Insecurity

The part of this week’s reading that interested me the most was a part of the section titled “Their Bodies, Our Anxieties,” which essentially covers how, throughout history, humans have always been “deeply unsettled” by mermaids and the liminality between humans and mermaids, which is what creates that anxiety. The book makes a great point about how humans’ anxieties about mermaids originate from our attraction to them. As I continued to read, we approached the issue of gender within the merefolk community. In early modern British culture, “a woman who oversteps the boundaries…[is] defined as monstrous” (xiii). It is ironic because then we see how in Odysseus’ interactions with the Sirens, he is considered a manly man who is heroic and strong for not falling prey to them. These stories that we will read about the merefolk will definitely bring up our expectations about gender within their community.

What I found to be the most bizarre is the interpretation of a mermaid’s tail when deciphering whether they were “available” or not. If they are “represented as having a single fishtail marking them as having some control of their bodies,” and “having two tails, perhaps suggesting sexual availability,” (xiii). Again, absolutely insane. The idea that something as arbitrary as the number of tails could be a coded message about a woman’s chastity or their sexual “openness” shows how much these myths and stories were shaped by patriarchal anxieties. People projected their fears and desires onto mermaids and ultimately reduced their bodies into a code to be deciphered and enjoyed by male viewers. Mermaids could have been represented as a symbolic or purely fantasical form, and they’re not; it’s very disturbing to realize that creatures as fascinating as they are were not exempt from being sexualized and categorized based on their supposed virtue. In a modern analysis of the situation of one or two tails is almost as demeaning as being asked, “How many bodies do you have?” That is quite literally what was being asked of mermaids..

The reading this week shows how different storytelling has continuously reinforced these cultural norms about gender and sexuality, it was normalizing the surveillance of women’s bodies and their behaviors through the most fantastical imagery; their literal tails. By placing such messages in myths and stories, societies have been hiding misogyny under the guise of such entertainment in storytelling.

Week 2: History via Mermaids

After reading the introduction to to Merpeople, I can say with confidence that I 100% believe in mermaids. I didn’t think that this soon into the semester, and into this class, this would be my stance on it, but I believe it. The thing that stood out to me the most was how several different cultures and religions have had their own versions and takes on merpeople, and what purpose they serve their views. From the Babylonians, to the Greeks, and inevitably, to Christians, there is a different version of merpeople. I was’t surprised to learn that Christian’s in a sense embraced the more exotic and “dangerous” side of mermaids. The way that they were portrayed as a lesson to their followers about the dangerous of love and lust is very telling. As I was reading, I couldn’t help but think of the phrase, “There is no other love like Christian hate”. Not to say or generalize that this is how Christians are, but at least at this point in history it is a direct reflection of how society was within a Christian context.

Seeing the images of sculptures and art work of mermaids within Christian worshiping spaces from the Medieval period was quite shocking as well. My own family was not very religious, although I did grow up Catholic, but I honestly wouldn’t have ever guessed that they would be portrayed in these kinds of spaces. Given that not a lot of people were able to read either during this time period, and would rely on descriptive images, I can imagine how the concept of merpeople existing was normalized like, “Oh yeah, I saw this sculpture of a mermaid in my church last week. This must mean that they exist because why would I question Christianity?” Aside from these images that I found shocking, I also had an interesting thought about how mermaids could be represented in modern day society under Medieval Christian context; Mermaids were the first feminists. Under the perspective that Christianity attempted to portray mermaids, they were here to bring the destruction of man through the inevitable lust for love, given that they were very beautiful. Not only that, but the way they were suggestive with their tail openings exposing their genital area, and being topless, this seems like a body/sex positive being. How ‘dangerous’ can they really be?

Hawaii does it best with Mo’o

I will admit that my complete knowledge of mermaids before taking this class consisted of Ariel and her underwater fish friends; I don’t even know what the true plot is. But using this, my understanding of mermaids has mainly been that they are all just pretty girls with nice hair who want to know what it’s like to be human. Contrary to this previous belief, it has come to me that mermaids/merpeople are historically considered extremely vain, evil, and vicious by many. In the Penguin Book of Mermaids, these beliefs are further elaborated, as it is stated that the framework of the belief in merpeople is “strongly patriarchal, and in some, it is also heavily Christianized, so that the (water) serpent is reduced to a demonic symbol of evil” (xix). The consideration of merpeople or even just ocean hybrid creatures being evil further pushed through the use of the siren luring traveling men in to torture or kill them. As this evil is the traditional thought within many European spaces, it is common for the stories of the merpeople to either get lost or not ever be created at all as no one cares to consider the stories of evil/monstrous beings. Although these common beliefs tend to paint a horrific picture in peoples minds, an aquatic Hawaiin water character by the name of Mo’o may help repair the disdain people harbor towards hybrid ocean beings.

The Mo’o is a reptilian water deity in Hawaiian mythology, commonly depicted through encounters with human men. While this is still a patriarchal creation of ideas, it is a much more positive one. It is more positive in the way that it completely counters the common notion of “sirens and mermaids being notorious for their seductive songs that drive sailors mad with longing”, but instead “mo’o are renowned for their loveliness” (xix). So, as these creatures are revered as being lovely and free from domestication, the underlying sense of misogyny in other stories is completely absent in tales of mo’o. Europeans even adopted tales of mo’o filled with lessons of self-control, respect, and divinity. Stories of mo’o are not used to scare audiences, but instead are used to make them aware of supernatural beauty and feminine powers, making it known that these creatures are not ones than can be nor should ever be captured/domesticated. I feel hybrid water beings are made much more approachable through the sharing of mo’o as there isn’t the inherited sense of fear or danger present with many stories of evil mermaids/sirens. So far, the introduction to the Penguin Book of Mermaids has me hooked, and already thinking of the infinite new ways to think about these intricate hybrid beings of water. I can’t wait!