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Final Essay

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If we take a look at the ocean as an archive, The Deep by Rivers Solomon, The Water Will Carry Us Home by Gabriella Tesfaye’s, and the rise of Blue Humanities all collectively challenge history by arguing that the memories of the voiceless persist in water itself. This matters because it exposes how our traditional understanding of what history is has always allowed for the erasure of the marginalized. These histories have survived through resilience, collective memory, and cultural expression. History, especially in the West, has traditionally revolved around the documentation of set experiences that enslaved or colonized people have been deliberately excluded from. The Ocean holds a history that has never been written down, making me raise the essential question “Where does their history exist?!” and how do we determine who gets remembered or who gets erased. 

In Rivers Solomon’s “The Deep” we are taken on a journey of imagining a world where history is physically located in the water. Instead of records as proof of a shared history, the Ocean and its selected historian, Yetum, carry the heavy weight of a history rarely told, enslaved people during the Atlantic trade.The quote, “Without answers there is only a hole. A hole where a history should be that takes the shape of an endless longing. We are cavities” (pg.8) gave me chills as it perfectly captures the feeling of how having a history that is denied from or inaccessible to you creates this hollow feeling of nothingness. By looking at the Ocean as an archive we challenge how history is defined while also recognizing the effects of generational trauma. Not only does Solomon argue that history doesn’t have to be written down to be authentic and real, but also that erased histories of people still persist.

🎥@GabrielleTesfaye- Youtube

Similarly, Gabriella Tesfaye’s short film “The Water Will Carry Us Home”, connects African peoples back to a history of their ancestors. The frame above is an image of a scrapbook-like journal where we are physically shown what it looks like to create a history for people who are often erased. In both, water holds their history. This is extremely powerful because to have to create your own history means you are living proof of the aftermath that is this something incredibly uncomfortable, displacement. The scrapbook feel adds to the emotional weight of having to scrap fragments of a history that was silenced. The film also challenges this idea that history must be written to be real by creating a visual representation of ritual and connection to the natural world as part of their history. 

In the article “The Blue Humanities” by John Gillis he brings up an excellent example of why these questions exist, what the rise of Blue Humanities is working to undo. The quote, “All that lay beneath the surface- The Deep -was thought to be an unfathomable abyss, impenetrable and unknowable, a dark dead zone that trapped all that sank below the surface, never revealing its secrets” (pg.5) gives us another explanation as to why the concept of the Ocean as a history has been traditionally ignored. He explains that the Ocean had previously only been studied from a land-centered perspective. Meaning, that traditional archives are not completely accurate. Which also means that if the history of oppressed peoples lives in water, then forgetting to include them in written history is erasure. The Blue Humanities challenges the idea that a history has to be written down to be true because there is no way “a dark dead zone” is ever really “dead”. This can not be true considering, the Ocean is home to thousands of thriving organisms and spices. This again, reaffirms that although it has been ignored, the history of the Ocean exists.

📸@eadem.co- Instagram
📸@eadem.co- Instagram

The images above are of a facial setting mist by one of the most popular brands in the beauty industry. The campaign connects the past erasure with a rescue healing mist told through the story of Mami Wata, a water deity/spirit we discussed in our reading of African mermaids and water spirits readings. I decided to include this finding as it relates to my essay because it’s proof that these histories are not dead. This history hidden in the archive of the Ocean is still being told today.

Works Cited:

“Eadem on Instagram: ‘Repair and Revive with Mami Wata Ultra Calming Mist.’” Instagram, Eadem.co, www.instagram.com/reel/DEiEhuWP3wC/?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ. Accessed 19 Dec. 2025. 

Gillis, John R., et al. “The Blue Humanities.” National Endowment for the Humanities, www.neh.gov/humanities/2013/mayjune/feature/the-blue-humanities. Accessed 19 Dec. 2025. 

Solomon, Rivers, et al. The Deep. Saga Press, 2020. 

Tesfaye, Gabrielle. “The Water Will Carry Us Home.” YouTube, youtu.be/dGlhXhIiax8?si=IzsFRoyJuGS_x4Uj. Accessed 19 Dec. 2025. 

The Forgotten Force(Essay)/Untold Depth(creative Project)

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Environmental literature has branched into many different areas, yet its next evolution may be its most important, as it focuses on humanity’s attempt to understand and coexist with its environment. Environmental literature, even before the term existed, has appeared throughout literary history and has often focused on uncovering what recedes around us. It is frequently perceived through the perspective of the mystical creature, the mermaid. These beings seem enchanted with humanity and gently guide humans toward brighter endings. While these human hybrid creatures embrace moral values similar to those of humans, they also possess the capacity to act, influence, and shape events throughout much of our literature. Although many analyze these texts from the mermaid’s perspective, the stories are actually filtered through the murky lens of the ocean itself. This perspective positions the reader to understand how the ocean influences these myths and why they remain important in modern times. In Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid, the story’s development relies on the agency of the ocean, a force that cannot be controlled and that exerts its influence on characters such as the unnamed mermaid and the prince’s kingdom. When The Little Mermaid is examined through the lens of environmental literature, it becomes clear that much of mermaid folklore does not rely on human characters. Instead, forces such as the environment and the mermaids themselves serve as literary devices that emphasize how entities beyond humanity can possess agency and deserve to be listened to. As a civilization that continues to develop, we are beginning to understand that the resources within our environment are not meant to be wasted but managed carefully as finite gifts that must be sustained collectively. Failure to do so risks not only environmental destruction but also the extinction of countless species, including ourselves, who remain the primary beneficiaries of the environment.

The story begins by giving the ocean human like characteristics: “the water is as blue as cornflowers, and as clear as the purest crystal. But it is very deep, indeed, that no rope can fathom it.” This detail matters because the narrative does not begin from an individual’s perspective. Instead, it creates the image of a humanistic ocean, one with blue “hair” and a deep, unknowable personality. The narrative then shifts from a story told through the mermaid’s perspective to one shaped by the ocean, establishing environmental agency. It is through the ocean’s permission that “sea folk dwell” within it, suggesting that the ocean is selective about what inhabits it and protects its possessions in a manner similar to humans. As the story progresses, Andersen builds on this idea by describing characters without names, defining them instead by appearance, personality, and clothing. The reader is invited into a space rather than a simple location and is introduced to a being that mirrors human qualities through familiar markers such as hair and clothing. The absence of names can be understood as Andersen’s way of suggesting that the ocean itself is a presence that resists rigid definitions. It is not a singular character but a collective force shaped by the environment it contains, and its influence extends to everything living within it.

The ocean’s shifting personality emerges through weather and currents. When the ocean feels jealousy and there is “rumbling and grumbling in the heart of the sea” after the mermaid turns her gaze toward a human, it reacts with anger and unfurls into a “raging sea” that lashes out at the prince’s ship. This theme continues into the prelude, when the sun “rose out of the sea; its beam threw kindly onto the cold foam, and the little mermaid did not experience the pangs of death.” Here, empathy, a human emotion expressed by a force of nature, parallels the mermaid’s self sacrifice and shows how the ocean offers aid in another’s suffering. Andersen creates a narrative cycle not through a traditional hero’s journey but through the ocean’s actions. The cycle begins with the ocean nurturing its ecology, described as containing “the most curious flowers and trees,” with “fishes, great and small, gliding through the branches as birds fly through trees here upon earth.” This demonstrates that, like the human world, life within the ocean is thriving and abundant.

The cycle then shifts into destruction, as the ocean ravages the prince’s ship, which “gave way from beneath the lashes of the ocean,” while “water kept filling the hold.” This destruction prompts the mermaid to realize that the crew is in danger. The storm demonstrates the ocean’s will by presenting the natural disaster as intentional rather than passive. When the sea unleashes its fury upon the prince’s ship, Andersen emphasizes not only the physical destruction but also the emotional impact. The wave that lashes the vessel and then withdraws its support reads as deliberate, as though the ocean intentionally escalates the chaos. This moment becomes one of moral intervention: the ocean responds to the mermaid’s conflicted desires and to the human intrusion that draws her away from its world.

The mermaid is aware of the ocean’s emotional state and the growing danger around her. This awareness reinforces her role as an intermediary between the ocean and the forces within it. Andersen constructs the ocean as a dynamic character, one capable of altering the course of the narrative, shaping human fate, and influencing mermaid agency. As a creature attuned to the ocean’s personality, the mermaid recognizes that the ocean carries danger even for her and remains cautious despite having lived within it her entire life. The final stage of the cycle is transformation: “she jumped overboard and felt her body dissolve into foam,” a change that allows her to transcend into an aerial spirit and eventually earn “an immortal soul after the lapse of three hundred years.”

While readers often interpret The Little Mermaid as a human centered morality tale emphasizing the mermaid’s sacrifice, desire for love, and pursuit of an immortal soul, this reading overlooks the environmental forces shaping the narrative. In the traditional interpretation, the mermaid is treated as the primary agent, and the ocean is viewed merely as background. However, this perspective fails to acknowledge the ocean’s active role in guiding events. Storms, currents, and emotional reactions repeatedly influence both human and nonhuman characters. These interactions demonstrate that outcomes do not rely solely on individual choices. When the ocean is recognized as an agent with its own personality and influence, the story becomes one in which natural forces shape morality, action, and consequence alongside human will.

Hans Christian Andersen is a leading writer of what we now call ocean literature, and his work challenges the belief that humanity is the sole proprietor of everything within the environment. Michelle E. Portman and Jordan Portman, in their article “Taking Ocean Literacy Literally: Reflections on Literature’s Influence on Ocean Literacy,” argue that humanity has grown disconnected from the needs of the ocean and must address the impacts we have on it rather than focusing solely on profit. Portman argues that ocean literacy is necessary to make educated decisions and to communicate environmental concerns effectively. Their article discusses the Ocean Project’s 1500 person survey, which found that although respondents acknowledged the importance of protecting oceans, “for the most part, individuals do not understand how oceans benefit humans or how humans negatively impact ocean health.” Advancements in environmental writing have shifted from a return on investment mindset to one emphasizing emotional connections, access and experience, adaptive capacity, and trust and transparency. Portman argues that this disconnection stems from a lack of a clear vision of the ocean as a whole. She reviews works such as Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone (2000) and Lulu Miller’s Why Fish Don’t Exist (2019), which push back against the generalization of marine life and advocate for unity rooted in deeper environmental understanding.

Andersen’s work aligns with these claims, especially through the prince’s and sailors’ interactions with the sea. The sailors enjoy their time on the ocean: “there were musical instruments playing and voices singing,” and many evenings the mermaid sees the prince sailing “in his pretty boat, adorned with flags, and enjoying music.” It is not the music that connects them; it is the ocean, which creates the environment where unity becomes possible. Fantasy based writing is a more accessible method of encouraging environmental awareness compared to the scientific writing of modern environmental texts, which rely heavily on statistical data. Andersen understood that most people would not engage with scientific texts. Instead, he embeds a romance within a narrative that cultivates an emotional bond not only with the mermaid but with the ocean itself. Andersen depicts the ocean as a being that punishes those who wrong it, such as the prince unknowingly drawing the mermaid away from her world, and rewards those who respect it, such as the mermaid, who observes and values the environment around her.

The witch within Andersen’s tale, while generally labeled the villain, functions differently when viewed through the lens of environmental literature. She represents the counterforce and the embodiment of natural consequences. The witch remains neutral in her relationship with the mermaid. She offers a fair exchange: the mermaid’s “charming voice” in return for “a pair of legs” and the appearance, according to the witch, of “the most beautiful mortal ever.” Although the witch entices the mermaid with the opportunity to stand beside the one she loves, she also warns that the transformation will bring great suffering: “it will hurt you as much as if a sharp sword were thrust through you.” The witch clearly lays out the terms of the deal and does not hide the consequences of the mermaid’s desire, acting more as a natural force than a malicious antagonist. While Andersen suggests that the witch values the mermaid’s voice for its beauty, it also holds symbolic worth as the means by which both humans and mermaids communicate. Both societies in the story rely on speech yet fail to use it effectively, as many of their conflicts could have been resolved through communication. Like nature, the witch sees only cause and effect and does not promise the mermaid love, only the chance to earn it. The mermaid’s relationship with the witch reflects the ideal vision of environmental literature, in which a figure is given the reasoning behind why the environment is falling apart and must then decide how to use that knowledge to help nurture the oceans.

Andersen also warns of human hubris, primarily through the prince. After the mermaid saves him, he becomes fascinated with the ocean only in hopes of encountering his mysterious savior. He fails to realize that the one he longs for has been beside him for most of the story. His arrogance blinds him, causing him to view the mermaid in human form as a “dumb foundling” with “expressive eyes.” His assumption that he would not marry his savior and instead chooses a girl he deems more fitting causes the mermaid immense suffering. She loses her voice, feels excruciating pain when her fins split into legs, and endures heartbreak knowing how the prince perceives her. Andersen’s warning is not directed solely toward children but toward humanity as a whole. We must be humbled and reconsider the belief that we stand above others, whether human or environmental.

The mermaid is often interpreted as the voice of humanity, but in reality she functions more as a shaman who speaks for the ocean rather than for humans. This challenges the self centered beliefs of modernism and refocuses attention on how the ocean shapes our living space. In the epilogue, the mermaid, now an aerial spirit merged with the environment, is tasked to “fly to warm countries, and fan the burning atmosphere, laden with pestilence, that destroys the sons of man. We diffuse the perfume of flowers through the air to heal and to refresh.” She is eventually rewarded with “an immortal soul,” which humanity strives to earn throughout the tale. Andersen includes this transformation to demonstrate that humanity must show empathy toward the environment to be considered truly human, a trait the mermaid works her entire life to achieve.

The environment appears as an agent capable of nurturing humanity but lacking the emotional intelligence to communicate directly. Instead, it communicates through subtle signs: fragrant winds, warm currents within cold waters, and the behaviors of its creatures. Its relationship with humanity resembles that of a parent and child, with roles that constantly shift. Andersen writes that for each good child “that smiles, a year is deducted from the three hundred we have to live. But when we see an ill behaved or naughty child, we shed tears of sorrow, and every tear adds a day to the time of our probation.” This signals that we, as caretakers of the oceans and the environment, must answer its needs. It also reveals how our actions affect both the environment and those around us. When we harm the environment, we delay its ability to ascend to greater heights.

This symbiotic relationship challenges the belief that life is a one way highway in which we only receive. Instead, it presents a relationship of mutual understanding. We provide care for the environment, and in return we gain the satisfaction of knowing that the ocean will remain a resource for future generations. Andersen believed that no one person truly owns the resources of the ocean but instead shares them, demonstrated through the prince and sailors enjoying their time at sea and the mermaids being fed and sheltered by the ocean. Environmental literature under modernism demonstrates that the ocean provides for those above its surface as well as those within its depths. Its reach extends around the world, and all living beings should nurture this force, not just for their own era but for all the eras yet to come.

When examined through the lens of environmental literature, The Little Mermaid reveals that the ocean is the true protagonist of Hans Christian Andersen’s work, one whose agency often equals and even exceeds that of the mermaids and the humans. All of Andersen’s characters bend to the ocean’s will, revealing a narrative driven by natural forces rather than human desire. Andersen challenges the belief, common in modern culture, that agency belongs only to humans and instead shows that every being, including the environment, has a voice even if it is unspoken. By allowing the ocean to speak within The Little Mermaid, the story becomes one of reciprocity, urging readers to acknowledge the nonhuman world as an active participant in shaping human fate. In doing so, Andersen anticipates contemporary environmental discourse and offers a literary reminder that the forces we depend on are also the forces we must learn to respect. Andersen’s work functions as a post modern literary device that suggests the environment quietly whispers its needs to us, urging humanity to take notice and respond. If we remain ignorant as a community, we will see the continuing decline of the environment. Instead, we should focus on building a community of ideas that blends human insight with environmental awareness, a vision that reflects Andersen’s early understanding of what we now call the Blue Humanities.

Works Cited


Portman, Michelle E., and Jordan Portman. “Taking Ocean Literacy Literally: Reflections on Literature’s Influence on Ocean Literacy.” Ocean and Society, vol. 3, no. 1, 2024, pp. 1–15. Cogitatio Press, https://www.cogitatiopress.com/oceanandsociety/article/view/9484/4269

Anderson, Hans Christian. “The Little Mermaid”. The Penguin Book of Mermaids, edited by Bacchilega, Cristina, and Marie Alohalani Brown. Penguin Books, 2019. 

Untold Depths

As I feel Feet touch my cold foam,

The tide stirs with stories I’ve guarded for years,

stories untold to man but whispered to inhuman creatures,

their gazes are cast onto a horizon I can’t reach.

Within my hair they lie, hoping to cherish memories unseen.

The depths of me patient but tired,

the current whisper and tell of their desire,

to part from me,

Cast their back from me,

My tears crash into planks,

awakening memories scattered through my feet.

Borne on the wind  that moves against me ,

I feel the ripples as they drift onward,chasing echoes no tide can hold.

Some vanish,destined never to stand in their world again;

Others reach back into my arms, learning of harsh truths.

That of what I embrace  can never be understood .

notes: This was probably the most challenging academic work I’ve done so so far, but it was so much fun after getting to see the end result. I hope Everybody has a good break


The Recipe for a Hero (Final Essay)

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In the chapter titled “The Great Old Hunter” from The Romance of the Faery Melusine, André Lebey creates a symbiotic relationship between humans and nature when describing nature as being “menacing and dangerous” because it is “full of the unknown” (Lebey 11). The dangerous quality of nature then formulates the need for heroes to protect the townsmen who are “huddled for comfort against their wives” as the dangerous creatures lurking in nature infiltrate the nearby village (Lebey 11). By intertwining nature and humanity, the text critiques the idea humans are separated from nature since the heroic persona and human virtue is built in the context of an environment that forces it to overcome threats and danger.

From the start of the chapter, Lebey begins to build the relationship between humans and nature when revealing that “They lived close to nature in those days, even in towns,” since the “Fields came right up to the walls and the forest was close by” (11). Right at the beginning of the story, nature is already becoming an integral part of the narrative through its close proximity to what is deemed as civilization. In this section, nature is not a faraway entity, but is a being that is interwoven into life within the village by explicitly stating that people “lived close to nature” and that it “came right up to the walls” of the town. It is not something that the villagers can easily ignore since the town is on the threshold of the forest. Whether it is for good or bad, the villagers develop in conjunction with the forest’s inhabitants because of their proximity. Here, the reader can see that every action of the townspeople or forest beings ends up directly impacting the livelihood of one another. Nature is then characterized as a neighbor to the town, as they exist alongside each other. Through this weaving of humans and the environment around them, Lebey is then able to create the perfect surroundings for someone like Count Aimery to exist. As a result of living so close to nature, Count Aimery is able to naturally become a hunter because he has direct access to nature on a daily basis. Count Aimery can then evolve and go on hunts due to the setting that Lebey places the town in, where humans live in a space woven with nature. One can then see how his life is shaped by his entanglement with nature since it gives him the basis to foster his skills to become “a great hunter” (Lebey 11). This forces the reader to take into consideration how nature influences the actions of those in that specific environment. Constructing the forest “close by,” the town transforms into a way for Lebey to showcase how influential nature can be in one’s life. It is not merely a place; rather, it is a force that can ultimately create the structure of a human life.

Knowing that the forest is nearby the village, Lebey then positions the forest and all those who inhabit it as “[…] menacing and dangerous, full of the unknown, concealing the surprising and the supernatural” (11). Before he even truly begins the story of the hunter, the forest is specifically defined as a place where evil lurks. By using words such as “menacing” and “dangerous” to convey the characteristics of this environment, it becomes something for the townsmen to fear and creates a sense of tension within the village since they live adjacent to the forest. Nature is not characterized as a passive being that simply exists, and instead is given a role as a perilous environment that is able to harbor these “unknown” and “supernatural” beings. The employment of the term “supernatural” also becomes vital since it creates the notion that not only is the village under threat, but it is under increased threat because the forest is essentially beyond the realm of this world. The reader then knows to be wary of this environment because it is being presented as an entity that can cause damage to the village and those who live there, since the actions of nature have an effect on those who live by its borders. Through the utilization of a hostile tone when describing the forest and the individuals that occupy it, the author leaves no doubt that nature is an evil force within the village because of the conflict it has created for them. In turn, when Lebey notes in the subsequent lines that “All along the bushes by the pathways the eyes of the lynxes burned, watching the old women, bowed under kindling” (Lebey 11), he continues to reinforce this threat of unearthly creatures on the community. Rather than the lynxes watching the old women, Lebey explains that their eyes were “burning” to evoke a sense of mysticism since it feels as if they have a fire behind their eyes that is not normally present within these creatures. The reader is now able to recognise the danger the villagers are in, knowing that these may not be normal creatures since the “burning” eyes of the lynxes are a mark of their “supernatural” qualities. Nature then transforms into the villain in the narrative by being an ever-present danger and frightening those who are merely trying to live their lives in town. It looms over the town as the townspeople are being watched by the “burning” eyes of creatures who call the forest their home.

Within the essay, “The Trouble with Wilderness: Or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature,” author and historian William Cronon reveals the danger in thinking that humans are detached from nature. In particular, Cronon describes how it “embodies a dualistic vision in which the human is entirely outside the natural,” which then “[reproduces] the dualism that sets humanity and nature at opposite poles” (17). Cronon is directly mirroring what can be seen in Lebey’s narrative as they both seek to combine humans and the environment around them. Rather than seeing nature as something that is removed from civilization, both Cronon and Lebey  “embody” a line of thinking that places nature as something that is part of everyday life. Even early literature, such as the Bible, often depicts the wilderness as a grand fantasy where one must venture away from civilization and towns to be truly in nature. The environment then becomes this awe-inspiring entity that is devoid of any perceived human elements or interaction. In turn, it may create this detached feeling from this form of nature because it is outside the scope of what is deemed as civilized, since it is viewed as being formulated by “nature” itself. However, Cronon notes that this idealistic view of nature “gets us into trouble only if we imagine that this experience of wonder and otherness is limited to the remote corners of the planet” (24), illustrating how we do not need to actively seek out nature since nature can be as simple as a tree in a backyard or a flower in a garden. Subsequently, the separation between nature and humans is blurred when we realize that the wilderness is all around civilization. Applying this thinking to The Romance of Faery Melusine, one can then see that Lebey moves away from “dualistic thinking” about nature and humans by highlighting how close the villagers live to nature. The forest is not simply a backdrop for the story, but plays a pivotal role in the lives of the people living in the town. The constant danger nature presents because of its close proximity to civilization forces humans to interact with nature as they try to fend off any lurking danger. Instead of positioning nature as a distant entity, Lebey brings it to the forefront through its influence on the villagers’ daily life. Here, one can see how Lebey showcases the “wonder and otherness” of nature at the village’s doorstep as the forest’s creatures dangerously seep into the town. The close proximity of the forest to the village then heightens the intertwining of humans and nature that is depicted in Cronon’s essay, since these two entities are forced to interact within their daily lives. Thus, both texts serve to erase the boundaries between humans and the environment by illuminating how much these two entities interact with each other.

Towards the end of the passage, Lebey then explains that because of the evil nature of the forest, it is a chance to showcase heroic virtues since “[…] evil reigned only if heroes failed to confront its dangers. It seemed that one existed to give rise to the other, for humans do not show their mettle if left to themselves” (Lebey 12). Through these lines, Lebey takes on a more optimistic view of the forest by claiming that it was created to “give rise” to heroes as a way to protect the community and dominate over evil. He is then cementing the intertwining relationship between humans and the natural world through the idea that they cannot exist on their own. This highlights the idea that human heroics depend on the presence of evil because it forces them to play the role of the hero in order to protect the town and the “townsmen huddled for comfort against their wives” (Lebey 11). The fear of the creatures from the forest drives people from the village to step up and defend the villagers from these otherworldly beings. The reader then understands that having nature as a threatening force is not an inherently bad thing because it is a critical force in building human character. Without the dangers that the forest presents, there might not be an opportunity for humans to display their superiority since nature gives them something to fight against due to its evil characteristics. If everything is always safe, then there would be no need for heroes to protect people or showcase their might. In turn, Lebey essentially points out that it is a good thing that the villagers live so close to danger because they are able to showcase their “mettle” that would otherwise be hidden away. Despite the turmoil and anxiety that the forest brings to the village, it is this exact evil that allows for humans to embody the persona of a hero and showcase their excellence that would not present “if left to themselves.”

In the section “The Emergence of Environmental Humanities” from The Environmental Humanities: A Critical Introduction, Robert S. Emmett and David E. Nye highlight this very thinking when explaining how “a disconnected and isolated ‘thing’ or object does not and cannot exist. Rather, every object and being is defined by its relationships,” meaning that “It is part of networks and only has meaning in relation to its surroundings” (9). In essence, this dismantles the idea of a dichotomy between humans and nature by positing the notion that an entity does not exist alone as an “isolated thing,” but in tandem with its surroundings, since it only exists within the context around it. When using this perspective to look at the forest and village presented in Lebey’s story, it becomes impossible to see these two entities as separate from one another, since they do not exist as solitary individuals. Every action that these “supernatural” beings from the forest take directly impacts the lives of those living in the village. Lebey’s depiction of the forest as a threat is then dependent on its ability to destabilize the lives of the people living in the town bordering the forest. As a result, the forest is defined as “dangerous” because of its close proximity to the village. Much like Lebey, Emmett and Nye situate nature as a place where human personas can be formed and harbored since “Human beings are not independent of the natural world, but are part of it” (9), making them “an active part of nature” (8). It is through their relationship with the forest that allows humans to rise as “heroes” because of the direct threat that the forest and its creatures present to the townspeople. Therefore, Emmett and Nye help further cement the belief that someone like Count Aimery is not necessarily born a hero, but is molded to be a hero because of the circumstances that force him to rise up and defend the town from the beings that lurk around the borders and spill into the town.

The weaving of humans and nature throughout this chapter of The Romance of the Faery Melusine then serves to move away from the idea that they can exist separately, since the heroic identity is founded within the connection between humans and the environment around them. As opposed to thinking that humans form their identities in isolation without any exterior forces, Lebey asks readers to rethink this notion by formulating the idea that it is through this “menacing” and “dangerous” environment that Count Aimery and others are able to reveal their greatness by hunting these dangerous creatures. The same forest that is home to all things “unknown” and “supernatural” can also be the place where virtue and nobility is born. Subsequently, humans may not know the extent of their superiority without the presence of danger threatening their livelihood. The forest becomes integral to humans because through these experiences with evil and danger, it gives them the space to prove their worthiness.

Works Cited

Cronon, William. “The Trouble with Wilderness: Or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature.” Environmental History, vol. 1, no. 1, 1996, pp. 7–28.

Emmett, Robert S., and David E. Nye. “The Emergence of Environmental Humanities.” The Environmental Humanities: A Critical Introduction. MIT Press, 2017, pp. 1-21.

Lebey, André. “The Great Old Hunter.” The Romance of the Faery Melusine. Translated by Gareth Knight, Skylight, 2011, pp 11-22.

Better Ways to See History in Rivers Solomons The Deep

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In Rivers Solomon’s novel The Deep, they use an extended metaphor of empty spaces (such as cavities and vessels) to depict the Wajinrus’ forgotten history as a literal void carved into its people. This is clearest in Yetu, whose role as historian turns her body into a sort of container for communal memory, one that is filled and emptied at a great cost. Solomon uses this metaphor to urge their audience to see the trauma of historical loss as not merely just emotional but constitutional; it shapes who a person becomes through a history that they must hold (in Yetu’s case) or the history they lack (in the Wajinru’s).  

In chapter one of The Deep, Amaba says:

One can only go for so long without asking ‘who am I?’, ‘where do I come from?’, ‘what does all this mean?’, ‘what is being?’, ‘what came before me and what might come after?’. Without answers there is only a hole. A hole where a history should be that takes the shape of an endless longing. We are cavities (Solomon 8).

Solomon uses repetitive anaphoric rhetorical questions—“Who am I? What does this all mean? What is being?” This repetitive structure creates momentum and rhythm creating a feeling of longing and searching in order to emphasize the uncertainty and human need for understanding oneself. Most prominent is the imagery of the “hole” and “cavities.” These words visually create a picture of emptiness and loss due to a past, or in this case, history, that has been erased. The “hole where a history should be” is an absence of ancestry, a lost and forgotten origin. The “hole” in this case would be a symbol of a void left from the disconnection from heritage and identity. Amaba’s last words, “we are cavities,” extend this metaphor of a “hole” in history as a way to describe how trauma and loss quite literally shape people. There isn’t merely just a “hole” in history; the people most impacted by that “hole” become empty and hollow—like a cavity. In Pauline Alexis Gumbs article “Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals,” Gumbs discusses what it means to Remember, and in reference to what she has been deprived of, the people and things she has lost, she states: “I’ve come back for all the names I’ve never known since you were stolen. And I am never far away from you in fact. I am creator and creation. Right here, the source of all love ever” (Gumbs 35). Gumbs phrase “names I’ve never known” parallels how the Wanjinru’s historical trauma creates gaps in identity. Which, in turn, connects back to Solomon’s metaphor of “holes,” these losses that exist not because the past doesn’t exist but because it was violently taken from them. Furthermore, when Gumbs says “I am never far away from you,” she resists the idea of total absence of what is lost. The Wajinru’s past and history, for most of the novel, is just out of reach, leaving them structurally hollow, rarely able to access the past that shapes them. On the other hand, the rememberings are literally “never far” from her as her role as historian. Yetu becomes the vessel of collective memory defined by what she holds. While the Wajinru, stripped of that history, become cavities defined by what they lack and are hungry for. Further, the line “I am creator and creation” suggests that the act of remembering, as well as recalling history, is an act of survival and identity. Yetu, and the Wajinru as a whole, are “created”  and are self made (creator) by the lack of their history, though that history does not just fully disappear; rather, it restructures bodies and identities through its absence.  

In succession to the first quote, Amaba believes that Yetu wouldn’t understand what it’s like due to her being the “historian.” Though Yetu thinks to herself that she “did know what it was like. After all, wasn’t cavity just another word for vessel?” (Solomon 8). The Oxford Dictionary defines cavity as “an empty space within a solid object, in particular the human body,” and a vessel is described as “a hollow container, especially used to hold liquid, such as a bowl or a cask.” A vessel, in Yetu’s case, is just another sort of cavity. Yetu is a vessel (cavity) made to hold the past and ancestors for the Wajinru people, then, when the time comes, those are scooped out of her and poured into the cavities of her people. And a cavity left untreated, left unfilled, can lead to pain and infection in a person, much like a cavity in one’s tooth. Solomon’s use of “cavity” and “vessel” is evocative of Gumb’s understanding of identity formation, where she explains: “I think about repetition and code, and when we prioritise what communication and why. And how we ever learn our names in this mess. And the need that makes us generalise and identify. Become specific and vague” (Gumbs 31). Repetition and code parallels Solomon’s repeated metaphor, depicting how history is encoded into one’s body, not simply just told through language. The pondering of “when we prioritise what communication and why” reflects the  Wajinru’s having a Historian hold all the memories of their people, then only annually placing those memories into the people. This form of communication of the Wajinru people depicts how when history is communicated, or withheld, is just as important in shaping one’s identity as the history itself. Gumbs goes on to describe the movement between “generalizing” and “identifying,” which corresponds with how Solomon depicts the Wajinru’s collective versus Yetu’s individual identity. For the Wajinru people, their trauma is shared or “generalized,” while Yetu’s is so individual to her as a hyper-specific vessel of memory. Gumbs’ insight to identity becoming specific and vague exemplifies Solomon’s cavity and vessel paradox. The Wajinru’s identity is vague because of how removed the past has been from them. Whereas Yetu’s is painfully specific due to holding all the ancestral memories, which overwhelm her body. Gumbs quote reinforces Solomon’s metaphor that history is constitutional and how the distribution of the past and memories is determinant in how whole or hollow someone becomes. 

In chapter five of the novel, after Yetu has left the Wajinru and her role as historian, she meets two legs and finds herself irresolute without the rememberings. Suka (one of the two legs) holds out her hand, sparking a lost memory in Yetu, but “when she reached out for the past, nothing was there. The emptiness inside her stretched far and wide in every direction like a cavern. It was lonely. She had thought herself unmoored when she was the historian, but this did not compare. She was a blip” (Solomon 78). For the first time, since before she was about fourteen, Yetu is experiencing what the rest of the Wajinru’s lives are like. As she tries to find where or what this memory is “the emptiness inside her stretched far and wide in every direction like a cavern,” there is yet another metaphor/simile for this emptiness that Solomon describes—cavern. A cavern, according to Merriam Webster, is a cave, one of large or indefinite extent. This simile expands Solomon’s metaphor from that of something that holds (cavity) or carries (vessel) to something that is an expansive, inhabitable absence. Comparing the lost memories to a cavern is as if to say that Yetu was living in a space of absence. Solomon describes this absence, ending the quote with a fragment: “she was a blip.” Now that she is unable to reach for those memories, she has a diminished sense of self. Like the Wajinru, without her history, she is a “blip,” there is a certain insignificance and impermanence to her identity. In Helen Rozwadowski’s book Vast Expanses: A History of the Ocean, Rozwadowski discusses the sea as a cultural, environmental, and geopolitical historical archive. To evolve our relationship with the ocean, she declares that “we must transform our understanding of the sea, to one bound with history and interconnected with humanity. Such a new vision, with new metaphors, can form the foundation for positive change” (Rozwadowski 227). Rozwadowski’s claim that the sea is “bound with history and interconnected with humanity” aligns with the Wajinru’s connection to memory, where their trauma originates in histories that are submerged, not erased. Additionally, Rozwadowski mentions this need for “new metaphors,” which we see Solomon depict in the Wajinru, especially Yetu, where memory is something physically carried in the body. Solomon’s metaphor pushes forth the “foundation for positive change” that Rozwadowski calls for; the metaphor of void spaces replaces abstract notions of history being intangible, with bodily constitutional consequences. Essentially, what Rozwadowski means is that metaphors shape ethical outcomes, hence Solomon’s metaphor demonstrating the conceptualization of history as something detachable at the cost of one’s identity and wholeness. For example, when Yetu becomes “a blip” without the rememberings, Solomon affirms the danger of a worldview that disconnects humanity from its histories, as warned by Rozwadowski.

By the end of the novel, in chapter nine, Yetu realizes a better way for her and her people to hold and carry history. As Amaba begs for her to not bear it all alone, Yetu ponders for a moment, “usually, after the remembrance, the historian waited nearby, empty of memories, but what would happen if they stayed? […] could they live out their days all sharing the memories together?” (Solomon 148). The historian being “empty of memories” continues Solomon’s extended metaphor of the body as a void to be filled or left hollow, thus reinforcing memory and history as being housed within. The phrase “empty of memories” also treats memory and history as something tangible that can occupy space. Yetu then rhetorically poses the questions “what would happen if they stayed?… sharing memories together?” This line of questioning invites the reader, as well as Yetu, to imagine an alternative structure of sharing history and memories. This communal language of “they” and “together” raises the possibility of distributed memory, challenging the isolation of the historian’s role and the Wajinru’s emptiness and longing for the past. By posing this question of a new way of sharing memories, Solomon urges their reader to consider the moral costs of isolating trauma to a single body, along with the trauma to one’s body of not having any history to hold. Rozwadowski, too, acknowledges the importance of knowing and understanding the past, especially the past in relation to the ocean: “Many environmental narratives lapse into tales of inevitable decline. Until we recognize the ocean’s past, and our inextricable relationship to it, we will not make much headway in changing that relationship for the better” (Rozwadowski 227). Both Rozwadowski and Solomon emphasize this “inextricable relationship” to the past, whether that be ecological or cultural. There is an emphatic importance to understanding that history, or memory, is not something that is merely disposable but deeply entwined to humanity. When Yetu proposes the idea of a shared remembrance, she too rejects the narrative of “inevitable decline” by suggesting that a collective reconnection to history can reform a people’s suffering. Solomon and Rozwadowski implore their audience to heal by refusing narratives of inevitability and embracing shared responsibility for history and its trauma. It is through this shared responsibility that one’s relationship to their environment can change for the better. 

Solomon’s overarching metaphor solicits their audience to understand the dangers and harm that a loss of history and ancestry causes a person. It leaves them filled with questions and uncertainty, and a hole that is hard to fill. By using this metaphor throughout the novel, Solomon implores one to think about how history is told, how history is held, and better ways of sharing history. The novel portrays the real human costs of the erasure of histories and an urge to imagine the advantages of shared history, especially histories that are often (and quite literally) lost to sea; histories that need shared “remembering” to enable healing rather than prolonging trauma. 

Works Cited

Gumbs, Alexis Pauline. “Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals.” Soundings (London, England), vol. 78, no. 78, 2021, pp. 20–37, https://doi.org/10.3898/SOUN.78.01.2021.

Rozwadowski, Helen M.. Vast Expanses : A History of the Oceans, Reaktion Books, Limited, 2019. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/sdsu/detail.action?docID=5631456.

Solomon, Rivers. The Deep. Saga Press, 2019. 

Final Essay Proposal

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Essay Proposal: After taking the feedback from peer review into consideration, for my final essay, I plan to close read “The Great Old Hunter” from Melusine and the poem “The Sea is History” by Derek Walcott. I’m going to borrow points from my second close reading of Melusine, where I explained that the chapter presents the forest as an evil entity within the community that then leads to the creation of heroes to protect the villagers. As a result, it highlights that humans exist within conditions of their environment that require them to overcome and adapt, which creates the heroic persona. I’m going to tie this into the poem “The Sea is History” since Walcott also weaves humans and nature together through the idea that the sea is a place of historical information about Caribbean history. This situates nature as a place where human identity can be formed and harbored because the sea holds narratives that help the people of the Caribbean understand histories that are often erased. I will also be bringing in the texts “The Trouble with Wilderness: Or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature” by William Cronon and “Blue Humanities” by John Gillies as my scholarly sources. I think that both texts help strengthen the idea that humans are not separated from the environment around them but that it influences human identity by moulding their lives. These academic texts blur the boundaries by showcasing how the environment is not independent from humans and that they coexist together, which will hopefully help aid me in my close reading of the two creative texts.

Working Thesis: Within the chapter titled “The Great Old Hunter” from The Romance of the Faery Melusine by Andre Lebey, he interlaces humans and nature by depicting the forest as a place of danger that allows for the emergence of human bravery to arise. Similarly, “The Sea is History” by Derek Walcott continues this weaving of humans and the environment by characterizing the sea as a record of the history of Caribbean peoples. In both texts, the intertwining of humans and the natural environment positions nature as an entity that shapes human identity to then help move away from the belief that humans are independent from the environment.

Final Essay: Preparation and Research

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After reading new pieces of literature and analyzing short films that focused on untold history and multicultural spirits (which we went over in class as well), this made me want to revisit my second discovery, and incorporate more historical information and credible sources to back up my claims and arguments. Considering my second discovery consisted of Mesoamerican water spirit Tlanchana, I would like to showcase more of the parallels between ancient societies in regards to folklore and specifically as it relates to water deities and these connections will be made by accessing the Penguins Book of Mermaids, as well as Scaled for Success: The Internationalisation of the Mermaid by Philip Hayward which speaks of this phenomenon. I am still at the part where I am trying to conceptualize the “So What?” part of my thesis but I intend for it to demonstrate the influence the environment has on humanity and how altering ones perception of the environment (introducing new theologies and forbidding previous beliefs) can result in a form of desensitization where one may slowly start losing the connection they once had with nature.

Final

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To be honest, I’m not sure on what I want to write about for this final. So far I have been enjoying “The Deep” so maybe I might write about that. Perhaps after getting further into the book I will know more about what I want to base my essay on. After that, i definitely need to look into scholarly articles for the essay.

So far, I have an interest in the trauma and memories revived the body. “Rememory” as well.

Final Project Idea

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Honestly, I have ZERO idea of what I want to do for this final. I definitely want to do something creative, I don’t know if I want to do a kind of playlist for this course? Since I have been putting songs at the end of every post, I feel like that would be good, but I would definitely struggle with the thesis for that. I’m not sure how I would tie it into the course. I think I could also do a playlist for a specific text or video we watched. I feel like making a playlist for “The Water Will Carry Us Home” would be a good one. I feel that there I would definitely need to focus on something specific, I struggle with my essays being too broad and trying to close read and stay on one topic. I want to stick with the music aspect, because other than creative writing, music is something I have a really great interest in. So, either make a song to fit the stop motion film, or a playlist that leads you through the video. Making a song would be fun! So I definitely narrowed it down to two options while writing this so that’s great!