Gothic Liminality and Marriage in Undine: Final Essay

In Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué’s gothic fairy-tale novella, Undine, the supernatural in this story isn’t just for decoration, nor does it function as a simple allegory or moral instruction. Instead, it operates as a Gothic aesthetic in which instability, fear, and liminality become visible. Nowhere is this more apparent than in “The Day After the Wedding,” from Undine, a chapter within The Penguin Book of Mermaids, that unsettles the apparent harmony of marriage through nightmares, silence, repetition, and a delayed revelation. While the chapter gestures toward future tragedy, its main function is not straightforward foreshadowing. Rather, it actually exposes the Gothic anxiety produced by proximity to a being who exists between two worlds–human and nonhuman, a familiar and unknowable. This anxiety is seen almost immediately in the chapter’s atmosphere of “wonderful and horrible dreams” (102) and the uneasy quiet that follows the wedding night.

Fouqué’s “The Day After the Wedding” uses the Gothic aesthetics of dream imagery, temporal disruption, monstrous transformation, liminal space, and supernatural knowledge in order to externalize anxieties that can’t be articulated within the rational discourse of marriage or of humanoids as paradigmatic liminal beings. The chapter can be placed within a broader Romantic Gothic tradition. In his text, the supernatural doesn’t explain emotion or stabilize this romantic union, but instead dramatizes the instability that comes with being human and attempting to contain what resists fixed boundaries. This function of the supernatural aligns with what Gothic theorist, Catherine Spooner, identifies as the genre’s defining impulse in “Unsettling Feminism: The Savagery of Gothic,” she explains how Gothic “acts as an unsettling force,” not to resolve contradiction, but to expose the fractures and aporias behind these systems that claim coherence (129).

One of the most striking Gothic strategies in “The Day After the Wedding” is Fouqué’s manipulation of time. The title itself shows that there is a disruption instead of a resolution after this holy unity. Marriage, conventionally imagined to be a moment of culmination and stability, is displaced by what comes after. The phrase “the day after” suggests a belated reckoning, a temporal lag in which consequences emerge indirectly rather than being resolved at the moment of ritual completion. Gothic anxiety is thus located not in the wedding night but in what lingers beyond it. Huldbrand’s terror unfolds in the liminal hours between night and morning. The “fresh light of morning” (102) awakens the newly married couple, yet daylight does not banish his fear. Instead, it reveals what is left of the darkness. Huldbrand’s dreams stay vivid, the images clinging to him as his consciousness returns. The Gothic that is seen here is how it refuses the restorative promise of daylight; fear persists even as the night recedes. This temporal overlap collapses the boundary that is between the unconscious fantasy and waking life, suggesting that the anxieties staged by the dream are not confined to sleep but embedded in the reality that the marriage between Undine and Huldbrand has produced. The displacement aligns with Gothic conventions that put horror not at the moments of climax but in the aftermath. Marriage should prove Undine’s status as a wife and human being, yet the morning after intensifies ambiguity. Stability becomes an illusion when it should have been secure. The Gothic, therefore, comes not as an interruption but as an afterimage, revealing the insufficiency of social rituals to resolve that ontological uncertainty. To be clear, the Gothic is not defined by terror alone, but by its capacity to expose the instability of categories–human and nonhuman, reason and emotion, order and excess–that the social rituals like marriage attempt to secure.

Gothic literature locates its deepest anxieties in liminal bodies, and in Undine, this anxiety is clear about the impossibility of fully domesticating a being that exists between human and elemental worlds. As Cristina Bacchilega observes in The Penguin Book of Mermaids, “we humans do not deal well with betwixt and between–liminality makes us anxious” (xi), and Merepeople: A Human History by Vaughn Scribner also enhances that same argument by saying “hybrid creatures represented danger as much as hope, wonder as much as horror” (8). This insight gives a lens for understanding Undine, whose existence undermines the stability that marriage is meant to guarantee. Undine’s marriage to Huldbrand represents her attempt to resolve her liminality through Christian ritual and being recognized by society. The elemental spirit she is is transformed into a wife, seemingly now as a part of society. Yet Gothic logic resists such containment. The day after their union doesn’t confirm harmony; instead, it introduces disturbance. Huldbrand awakens from his “wonderful and horrible dreams,” haunted by spectres who disguise themselves as beautiful women before suddenly assuming the face and bodies of dragons (102). The nightmare stages this anxiety visually, allowing Huldbrand to project what he cannot consciously acknowledge, since Gothic convention enables the rational subject to cast off its “horrifying and fascinating others in monstrous form” (Spooner 130). Beauty now collapses into monstrosity, exposing the fragility of appearances and the instability behind these social forms. The dream aestheticizes liminality itself. This fear of collapse aligns with Scribner’s observation in Merpeople: A Human History that such hybrid beings were understood as “they were unnatural manifestations of a realm that humans did not fully understand,” capable of drawing humanity into “a strange, disorderly world of confusion and destruction” (8). The supernatural has not been domesticated; it continues to exert pressure upon the social order. Undine’s body, her origin, and relation to humanity remain a mystery, and Huldbrand’s nightmare gives way to this instability to flourish into its grotesque visual form. Marriage attempts to render Undine legible within social order, yet her presence resists such containment, for Gothic hybrids are “disturbing” precisely because their incoherent bodies “resist attempts to include them in any systematic structuration” (Spooner 136).

Dreams occupy a privileged position in Gothic and Romantic literature because they make way for forbidden or unacknowledged fears to surface. In “The Day After the Wedding,” Huldbrand’s nightmare functions as a Gothic disclosure, translating unspoken anxiety into a spectacle. The spectres that haunt him do not appear as overtly supernatural beings, but instead they “grin at him by stealth,” masquerading as beautiful women before revealing their monstrous faces (102). There is this oscillation that is seen between beauty and horror that mirrors Undine’s liminal status and destabilizes the reliability of perception itself in Huldbrand’s view. The dreams that he has, the most disturbing feature isn’t the violence of it all, but it’s the structure of the transformation from a beautiful being to a monster. The spectres are not immediately monstrous; their monstrosity emerges through sudden collapse. The women’s faces become dragons without transition, evoking medieval Christian iconography in which dragons signify deception and spiritual danger. In mermaid traditions, hybridity itself is frequently aligned with the demonic–not because the creature is morally corrupt, but because it resists the fixity required by Christian moral systems. Huldbrand’s dream draws upon this symbolic logic, staging the terror of an unfamiliar being rather than betrayal. Most importantly, the dream does not end upon waking. Pale moonlight floods the room, collapsing the boundary between dream and reality. Huldbrand looks at his wife, Undine, who still lies “in unaltered beauty and grace,” yet terror persists (102). Nothing about her has changed; what has changed is his perception of her. The dream has attached the possibility of monstrosity to Undine’s presence, showing the Gothic fear that beauty conceals monstrosities. 

The transformation of women into monsters within Huldbrand’s dream aligns with a long Gothic tradition in which femininity becomes something of a site for projected anxieties. It is not male bodies that mutate but female ones, reflecting cultural fears surrounding female otherness and autonomy. As Cristina Bacchilega notes, such narratives oftentimes reveal “the discrepancy between men’s longing for a woman unfettered by social mores and their attempt to control her by domesticating her” (xviii). Undine embodies this contradiction. Her difference makes her desirable, yet once bound within marriage, that same difference becomes threatening. Huldbrand’s attempt to master his fear–reproaching himself for doubt and pressing a kiss upon her lips–exposes the tension between rational self-discipline and irrational anxiety. The Gothic does not resolve this tension; it sustains it, revealing the limits of reason in the face of liminality. Undine’s response intensifies uncertainty. She sighs deeply and remains silent, offering no verbal reassurance. In Gothic literature, silence marks the presence of what cannot yet be safely articulated. Her quietness reflects not innocence but opacity, reinforcing the sense that she cannot be fully known or contained. 

Undine’s silence following Huldbrand’s apology is one of the chapter’s most theologically charged moments. She communicates forgiveness through gesture rather than speech, holding out her hand and offering a look of “exquisite fervour” (102). In Gothic terms, silence marks the presence of knowledge that goes beyond what can be fulfilled by a spoken language. The scenes that follow Huldbrand’s apology attempt to reassert social and spiritual order: within himself and his wife. The priest prays inwardly, the foster parents observe Undine attentively, and the household waits for confirmation that the supernatural has been successfully domesticated. Undine appears to fulfill this hope. She performs idealized domestic virtues, becoming “quiet, kind, and attentive, at once a little matron and a tender bashful girl,” yet this very perfection still comes with unease. Those who have known her longest expect at any moment to see some “whimsical vagary” to burst (103). Stability feels unnatural, sustained only through vigilance and restraint. Gothic tension operates here through anticipation rather than action. Domestic order is revealed as performative rather than natural, a fragile illusion rather than a secure resolution.

Gothic anxiety is further reinforced through the repetition and return within the chapter. Huldbrand repeatedly awakens from terror, reassures himself, and falls asleep again, only to be disrupted by new visions. This cyclical pattern undermines the idea that rational correction can dispel fear. Anxiety does not disappear when confronted; it only recurs in an altered form. Spatial repetition mirrors this psychological pattern. When Undine asks Huldbrand to carry her to the island, he recalls that this is the same island from which he first carried her to the fisherman’s cottage. Progress is revealed as circular rather than linear. Marriage does not inaugurate a new beginning but reactivates unresolved tensions rooted in liminal spaces. The island now functions as a Gothic threshold, a place of judgment rather than safety. Undine insists Huldbrand sit opposite her and read his answer in her eyes before his lips speak. Her insistence reflects a Gothic epistemology in which “vision precedes language,” marking a knowledge that cannot yet be safely articulated within humans (Spooner 135). This insistence reflects mermaid past that an interaction with them tests men; in this case, it isn’t through vow but through recognition and whether he can truly see Undine for who she is–a hybrid of both land and sea.

Water imagery saturates “The Day After the Wedding,” functioning as a central metaphor for Gothic instability. The forest stream, once wild and swollen, now flows gently, appearing temporarily subdued. Yet this calmness is explicitly framed as transient. By morning, Undine notes, the stream will be dry, enabling Huldbrand’s departure. Stability is provisional, dependent on fluctuating natural environmental forces. Undine’s ability to glide effortlessly through water contrasts with Huldbrand’s need to carry her, highlighting their ontological difference. Though he carries her body, he cannot contain her essence. Like the transformations of the nightmare, water refuses fixity. It shifts from obstacle to passage, restraint to release. The Gothic emerges not through overt threat but through the constant motion that undermines permanence, revealing marriage itself as a provisional structure rather than a stable resolution of liminality. This instability reflects a broader Gothic tradition in which, as Scribner suggests, “humankind has always grappled, humanity maintains a tenuous balance between wonder and order, civilization and savagery” (9).

Undine’s revelation of her elemental nature shifts the Gothic from implication to articulation. She situates herself within a parallel cosmology of salamanders, gnomes, spirits of air, and water beings, decentering human existence entirely. This knowledge destabilizes Enlightenment assumptions of mastery and hierarchy. Her explanation of soullessness intensifies this disruption that is seen. Elemental beings, she explains, vanish entirely at death, lacking immortal souls. The acquisition of a soul–often treated as a triumph–is framed instead as a burden that brings suffering, fear, and vulnerability. Gothic inversion is at work here because spiritual elevation gives exposure rather than transcendence. Huldbrand’s “strange shudder” and inability to speak register the epistemological shock of this revelation (105). He is confronted not with a monster but with a being whose suffering now depends upon his fidelity. Gothic anxiety arises not from threat but from responsibility.

Although the episode concludes with Huldbrand’s vow never to forsake his wife, Undine, this declaration offers emotional reassurance rather than ontological certainty. The anxieties revealed by the nightmare–fear of transformation, instability, and loss of control–remain unresolved. Fouqué is not merely depicting a husband’s fear of his wife. Rather, he uses Gothic aesthetics to interrogate the limits of social institutions themselves. Marriage, religion, and reason attempt to impose order, yet the supernatural exposes the fragility of that order by embodying what exceeds it. 

“The Day After the Wedding” from Undine uses the Gothic aesthetics of dream imagery, temporal disruption, monstrous transformation, silence, repetition, water imagery, and supernatural revelations to dramatize the instability inherent in attempts to contain liminality within human social structures. Huldbrand’s nightmare is not simple foreshadowing but an aesthetic event that externalizes anxieties surrounding categorization, control, and transformation. When the chapter is read alongside mermaid scholarships, The Penguin Book of Mermaids by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown, and Merpeople: A Human History by Vaughn Scribner, the chapter reveals how supernatural female figures function within Gothic literature as sites of cultural and psychological projection. Fouqué’s supernatural does not resolve conflict or explain emotion; it illuminates uncertainty. In doing so, Undine demonstrates the power of the Gothic not to soothe Romantic-era anxieties, but to render them visible and inescapable. In this way, Undine reveals that Gothic literature does not merely reflect anxiety but produces it deliberately, forcing readers to confront the limits of social, religious, and epistemological systems meant to protect them from uncertainty.

Works Cited

Bacchilega, Cristina, and Marie Alohalani Brown. “The Day After the Wedding from Undine.” The Penguin Book of Mermaids. New York, New York, Penguin Books, 2019, pp. 101-106.

Bacchilega, Cristina, and Marie Alohalani Brown. “Their Bodies, Our Anxieties.” The Penguin Book of Mermaids. New York, New York, Penguin Books, 2019, pp. xi-xiv.

Bacchilega, Cristina, and Marie Alohalani Brown. “Plots, Gender, and Human-Nonhuman Relations.” The Penguin Book of Mermaids. New York, New York, Penguin Books, 2019, pp. xvii-xx.

Spooner, Catherine. “Unsettling Feminism: The Savagery of Gothic.” The Gothic and Theory: An Edinburgh Companion, edited by Jerrold E. Hogle and Robert Miles, Edinburgh University Press, 2019, pp. 129–46. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/10.3366/j.ctvggx38r.10.

Scribner, Vaughn, and Reaktion Books. Merpeople: A Human History. London, Reaktion Books, 2020.

The Idealization of Human relationships

In the story of Undine and the elements and how relationships have explorations through many aspects of life in itself that has been talked about since forever. It would call that there is no such things as trying to accomplish everything and even trying to do so will never happen no matter “Our condition would be far superior to that of other human beings,- for human beings we call ourselves, being similar to them in form and culture, but there is one evil peculiar to us”(105).

From undine perspective of being such a extraordinary person has to always explain to her husband that she has found in him and says “we and our like in the other elements, vanish into dust, and pass away, body and spirit, so that not a vestige of us remains behind; and when you mortals hereafter awake to a purer life, we remain with the sand and the sparks and the wind and waves”(105). Being human is like any other living thing but with some more interesting ways of living but in principle it is the same. As long as humans continue to exist cultures and customs will continue to live on after the original person or group. Undine describes her husband as a person who lives and embraces who he is and loves Undine in the most human way.

People will always have something say and something to do and whatever our objective is to live with of what we have and not just think so pessimistically and without certain people there is no such thing as hope in our lives. Without humans most likely there would be no meaning on things we create and do for others. Life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows but nature never changes its rules for us no matter how much we try to make our lives easier. Undine also says that “Thus my Father, who is a powerful water prince in the Mediterranean Sea, desired that his only daughter should become possessed of a soul, even though she must then endure many sufferings of those thus endowed” (105).

A missing component to all this is that there is an element that’s not morally desirable and it is being satisfied and enjoy what you and most people go on their entire lives trying to be the best and when any type of failure hits people its either give up and never try again or reflect on what happened and accept your failure and move on to the next thing and know how to solve the problem at hand. Undine claims that there is “Such as we are, however, can only obtain a soul by the closest union of affection with one of your human race”(105). Having a soul often mean that there is more to life than just completing tasks for everyone else but yourself. Being human is just to race to the finish line while completing the only major milestones that are commonly known as like raising a family, being successful that is defined by your career and also there is no happiness inside a person who living a hollow life and not being full of life is not worth living for. As a society the progression has gotten to the point where life is stagnant and stale because of no such as thing as being an authentic personalities only copy pasted from social media influencers are the ones who are makings big impacts on younger audiences. Will you keep up with this nonsense or have some sort of backbone to this problem.

As human beings we are meant to make progress advancing our accomplishments and it is often the goal to always pursue and move up with it. We are not meant to surpass our limits when its not humanly possible and our environment often says what state it is in and our responsibility is to carry on others creations, legacies and current traditions in our lifetime as we shall live. Our shelves may be just mortal but our human spirit hangs on to other humans. Through Undine nature is known as being stable and truthful when interacting with people around her like her husband and the local fisherman. Humans are often known to just being simple and yet being more complicated psychologically.

Types of social relationships has often just like in nature with along side with animals. Connection is one of those things that kept our species alive. where would we be without our ancestors? Well people have tried to become to most powerful and idealized version of themselves that would take them and seeing their limits. Mermaids are a type of species people wished to become because of costumes that people dress up as on holidays like Halloween party or a conventions. Most people as children wish to become mermaids because of film and tv shows that represented in one way or another. In early versions of mermaids were thought to be mysterious monsters and have been interpreted differently for each person who read or watch Mermaids. It’s has been interesting that when it comes to interpretations people would say “This isn’t the version of a Mermaid I grew up with”.

As long Humans race exist we will continues to better ourselves at everything and not stop. Human connections are needed and not meant to be apart to divide us. Values are important to keep and valid. Being doesn’t just mean to be living on auto pilot and living meaningful life is important. words that are said from is Undine is that ” He is however powerful, and is esteemed and beloved by many great steams; and as he brought me hither to the fisherman, a light-hearted laughing child, he will take me back again to my parents, a loving, suffering, and soul-endowed women” (106). It is always something or someone look forward to and perfection doesn’t exist.

Undine and the Living World of Nature

Undine and the Living World of Nature

Many struggle and face emotions of lacking belonging, despite having community. In “The Day After the Wedding, from Undine,” Undine’s description of the elemental spirits reveals how humanity views nature and the earth as alive and full of personality, yet separate from themselves. Each element being given human traits makes nature both feel more familiar and more mysterious. This is a reflection of Undine’s own identity feeling stuck between two worlds. This suggests that the story is really asking whether the boundary between humans and nature exists at all, and given Undine’s struggles not feeling a part of either world despite being caught between the two means there is no real boundary between humans and nature; only one the imagination creates 

Undine tells her husband, “There are beings in the elements which almost appear like mortals, and which rarely allow themselves to become visible to your race. Wonderful salamanders glitter and sport in the flames; lean and malicious gnomes dwell deep under the earth; spirits, belonging to the air, wander through the forests; and a vast family of water spirits live in the lakes and streams and brooks”(Penguin 103). Here, she describes them in a way that makes nature seem almost like it’s alive and aware of itself. She organizes nature into different categories. Some spirits sound enchanting while others feel dangerous but they all align to “your race” meaning human beings. This separation creates the idea that these creatures are like humans but not quite, which makes them something mysterious but beyond human control. This reflects Undine’s identity as someone who exists between two worlds. One human and one elemental. 

When Undine begins describing these spirits, she speaks with a type of power, as if she’s telling the human world a secret. She says, “there are beings in the elements which appear almost like mortals, and which rarely allow themselves to become visible to your race”. When she says “almost like mortals” it suggests both similarity and difference at the same time. These spirits are not fully human but they aren’t completely different either. They seem to exist on the edge of what humans can recognize, close enough to share similarities but strange enough to stay mysterious. The word “rarely” shows the control the spirits have as they “allow” themselves to be seen, meaning that nature can decide when to reveal itself. This gives power to the natural world because it’s something that humans will never be able to fully control or understand. Instead, nature chooses when to be visible, when to interact, and when to stay hidden. 

Undine then goes on to describe each type of elemental being. She says “Wonderful salamanders glitter and sport in the flames; and malicious gnomes dwell within the earth; spirits belonging to the air wander through the forests; and a vast family of water spirits live in the lakes and streams and brooks.” Each element, fire, air and water come alive with different movements and behavior. When she says “glitter”, “sport” and “wander” she gives the elements a sort of energy that makes the natural world feel expressive. Even the gnomes, who are described as “malicious,” show that nature has moods and emotions because it’s not always peaceful. By giving each element its own personality, Fouqué is able to humanize nature without taking away its wildness. He creates a world that feels enchanted but also believable, as if every part of nature has its own community with its own emotions. 

This specific passage made me change the way I think about the relationship between humans and nature. Usually, people see nature as something that’s separate. Something to look at, control or use. However, in Undine’s description, that separation doesn’t really exist. The natural world has its own personalities and emotions. Humans just happen to live alongside it. I think this makes the world Undine lives in almost feel like the human world thinks it’s in charge and the elemental just secretly shapes everything around it. The spirits “rarely allow themselves to become visible,” but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. It just means humans have forgotten how to see them.

Undine becomes the bridge between these two worlds. She reminds us that she belongs to the water spirits but she has to explain this unknown reality to her husband and try to make him understand a world that he’s never seen. Undine’s description of the elemental spirits also reflects her own inner conflict. She knows the world she’s talking about because she’s part of it. She belongs to the water spirits she describes, but at the same time, she has to explain that world to her human husband, which shows how far away she’s drifted from it. She’s caught between knowing and explaining, between belonging to nature and trying to fit into the human world. This mirrors her identity throughout the story. She wants to love and live like a human, something the elemental spirits can’t do, but that wish also separates her from the world she came from.

There’s also something spiritual about how Undine describes these beings. They are not just “creatures” of nature, they are beings each with their own spark. The natural world in Undine isn’t just a collection of physical elements, it’s full of souls. This suggests that spiritual life exists everywhere, not just in humans. The way Undine speaks about these spirits gives nature a moral and emotional sense that challenges the idea of human superiority. The natural world becomes something sacred, deserving of respect and wonder, not human domination.Fouque doesn’t just use Undine’s words to create a fantasy world; he uses them to question the way humans see themselves in relation to nature. If there are spirits “almost like mortals” in fire, earth, air, and water, then humans are not separate from nature at all, they are just one kind of being among many. Undine’s description forced me to see the environment not as something outside of us, but as something that shares our emotions, our struggles, and maybe even our souls with. This moment in Undine stands out because it redefines what it means to be alive. It made me imagine a world where the natural elements have consciousness and purpose. Through Undine’s voice, Fouqué suggests that the boundary between humans and nature is something humans invented to feel special, but actually, we’re part of the same living system. Undine’s words remind us that nature isn’t silent. It’s full of stories, life, and emotions that we’ve simply forgotten how to hear.

The Moral Cost of Industrialization in “Undine”

In “The Day After the Wedding, from Undine,” Undine’s speech focuses on the literary elements of nature, romanticizing and spiritualizing nature amongst a world of industrialization. Froqué’s romanticized and spiritualized depiction of nature is used to contrast and emphasize industrial and moral decay. By doing this, the audience understands the need to critique the moral and spiritual implications of industrialization, both in the past and in modern day. The consequence of modernization is nature’s purity and thus humanity’s spiritual decay. 

Undine begins her speech to Huldbrand by describing “A vast family of water spirits live in the lakes and streams and brooks. […] they wander over the pure sand of the sea, and among lovely variegated shells […] which the present is no longer worthy to enjoy” (Penguin 104). Froque vividly illustrates these water spirits environment that has “lakes and streams and brooks” as well as “lovely variegated shells.” Such imagery paints this place as magnificent and “other worldly.” Though somewhat supernatural the water spirits, contrastingly, are personified with human-like qualities such as “wandering” and “living;” suggesting movement and community in the environment. The mystical imagery, along with the aspects of human qualities amongst these spirits, present nature and wildlife (or the inhuman) as being very much alive and animated. This world and these entities in the quote and passage are descriptively romanticized, which makes sense for a 19th-century text. Specifically, this passage contains a lyrical quality in its alliteration within the s sounds of “streams and brooks” and “pure sand of the sea.” The alliteration gives the imagery rhythm that makes it literally sound as beautiful as the imagery paints it out to be. In turn, the imagery and romanticizing of this supernatural world and entity beautifies the “other,” turning it into something attractive. This attractiveness for which the “Other” has, is no longer “worthy” to be enjoyed by the “present,” or ideology of the industrial age, due to its push toward urban growth, destroying its beauty. 

Furthermore, Froqué not only romanticizes the water spirits but also exalts their beauty more than that of humans, emphasizing purity in things untouched by civilization. Undine tells Huldbrand that “Those, however, who dwell” in such elements “are very fair and lovely to behold, and for the most part more beautiful than human beings” (Penguin 105). Froqué, again, creates this ethereal image of beauty with diction such as “fair,” “lovely,” and “beautiful.” There is a hyperbolic sense of charm to Undine’s words, that water spirits are “more beautiful than humans.” It is a way of “exaggerating” the depiction of water spirits as manifestations of beauty and the supernatural perfection beyond human standards. Doing so idealizes nature, tying it back to Romantic themes, making nature pure and uncorrupted, whereas humankind has fallen, relating back to “the present” (ideology of the industrial age), no longer being “worthy to enjoy” its beauty. Froqué depicts the water spirits in this pure light to show the importance of and purity in what humankind’s urbanization cannot or has not touched, that it is important to uphold these things in a higher place than human nature. 

Later, as Undine continues her speech to Huldbrand, she confesses that her kind “vanish into dust, and pass away, body and spirit, so that none of the stage of us remains behind; and when you mortals hereafter awake to a purer life, we remain with the sand and the sparks and the wind and the waves” (Penguin 105). Dust, in this context, can be seen as a symbol of divine morality and the decay of industrialization. Modernization of nature turns nature to dust, eroding and destroying its purity. Undine describes these elements of nature, the “sand,” “wind,” and “waves” as idyllic and eternal, yet with industry’s materialism, these things are reduced to dust. This elemental imagery of dust reflects that of Genesis 3:19: “for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” The scripture from the Book of Genesis is supposed to be a reminder that there is no amount of human achievement that can defy human destiny. Allusions to such scripture are used as a way to mourn how humankind’s “progress” loses its spiritual and natural connection to the environment, and due to Industrialization, people have turned the environment, not to a sacred dust, but to a polluted ash. Romantic ideals of spirituality are tied to Christian cosmology, “awakening to a purer life,” both of which long to move beyond industrial corruption and instead put spiritual and natural divinity above it. Ultimately, Undine’s fear of vanishing into dust reflects that of humanity’s fear of spiritually losing themselves amidst mechanization. A world in which moral worth is measured by production, and not a person’s soul. 

In the following quote from that stated previously Undine goes on to say that water spirits “have no souls; the element moves [them], and is often obedient to [them] while [they] live, though it scatters [them] to dust when [they] die; and [they] are merry, without having aught to give [them] […] but all beings aspire to be higher than they are” (Penguin 105). Froqué’s depiction of the water spirits as “soulless,” counteracts his previous hyperbolic depictions of their beauty. This contrast from being something beautifully lively to being “soulless” parallels what industrial society does to nature and its laborers. The people and environment become valued for their work and function, rather than what they have inside or, in other words, their soul. The environment and its elements, in this case, are personified—“the elements moves us.” The personification of the elements depicts Romantic views on nature having spiritual vitality, while the mechanical world, in contrast, “moves” humans with a mechanized obedience. Undine and the water spirits lack a “soul” is a symbol of modernization alienating people from the divine and natural world. The final line that “all beings aspire to be higher than they are” is a Romantic and Christian view on this need to reunite with the natural world’s surroundings. Christian rhetoric is used by Froqué as a means of expressing Romantic ideals. The use of Christian teleology critiques industrial times’ view on “progress” away from the sublime. Religious framing, in essence, reinforces Romantic ideals that salvation is not just found through faith but the preservation and restoration of spirituality with nature. 

Froqué’s Romanticization of nature in Undine’s speech functions as a moral critique of industrialization values. There is a spiritual cost in the name of “modern progress,” that the liveliness and purity of nature give way to “soullessness” in a world of industry. Undine’s speech to Huldbrand acts as a warning to him and humanity that a loss of connection to nature means losing connection to divinity, echoing Romantic and Christian ideals of morality. Froqué’s use of imagery elevates nature to a higher status as a way to call for humanity’s re-evaluation of “progress” as a connection to nature rather than industry. 

Our Human Relationship With Nature as a Whole

The elements of nature and their relationship with humans is explored in the story of “Undine.” Through comparison of organisms and natural forces, we visualize the connection of nature and the universe as a balanced force balance- yet the absence of human status within the elements raises the belief of humans as foreign and intrusive in the groundwork of nature – devoid of domination over the natural cycles – creating the ideology that nature is independent from human power, existing and thriving in a world unaided by mankind’s interference.  

Undine, an extraordinary being herself, explains to her husband the hidden treasures and components of the Earth, hidden from human eye. Her description was as follows, “Wonderful Salamanders glitter and sport in the flames; lean and malicious gnomes dwell in the earth; spirits, belonging to the air, wander through the forests; and a vast family of water spirits live in the lakes and streams and brooks.” The unique pattern seen in this text is each earthly element has an organism to pair with it.  Every component of Earth has a being responsible for keeping its stability and balance within the ecosystem. As Undine described to her husband, these “beings” remain unseen to humankind, these terrestrial organisms with deep roots within the earth. 

Each and every being has a role in the cycle of life, a placement designed to control the movements of nature and the elements of earth. Without them, the air would not breeze past us, the water would not glisten and foam. We would lack sight of beautiful trees and would suffer through the cold without the glowing embers of a fire. Undine paints a narrative to reveal to us as a race that we, as humans, are at the mercy of these organisms, functioning in a world with these elements at our fingertips, due to the work of others. 

And yet – within this observance, there is one component and majority of earth missing from the equation. Humans themselves. This belief system indicates to us that we are the foreign objects circulating within nature. Our presence is not a helpful stimulation for the environment we place ourselves in. In no place does Undine proclaim humans have a role in the harmony maintained within the environment. We contribute nothing – yet wish to dominate. Our goal as humans is always to control what is separate from us. The unknown enchants us in a way that promotes discovery and this discovery leads to want. Want to obtain, want to rule. However, what right do we have to obtain the command of nature to our will? In what ways do we shape the flowers or move the wind? We as a society want to believe that without us, the lower class, the “inferior,” will lack prosperity without us. On the contrary, nature itself is an independent source, separate from any intentions of our own. It grows and shifts, evolves and moves without any assistance from humankind. It existed long before us and will remain long after we are gone. 

Udnie, through her description of life unknown to us, is able to convey a thought process often overlooked by us. We are not the most powerful beings in the environment.. We are not responsible for the beauty of nature and the gifts it offers. It is only through the words of Undine, a natural spirit, we even learn of the true nature of the ecosystems, given the sacred knowledge we have previously not been allowed to have. It is her nature, giving humans information and discovery, not the other way around. We only see what is given to us by nature’s allowance, not what we believe we have found through seeking. We do not hold the key, but rather, the key allows itself to be used.

What is the relationship between this observation and mermaids themselves? The connection comes from the fact of human desire for domination. In the same way humans have a desire to overpower nature, they have the desire to overpower mermaids. Mermaids themselves are part of the earth, responsible for the environmental changes and developments within the water. Humans see them as a foreign object, “a thing” to be conquered to fit an imagery they see fit in the same way they see nature. In our minds, mermaids “deserve” to be saved and assimilated by us, “exposed” to civilization and superiority in a way they would not achieve in their home land – the water. Yet, it is us who invades their space, sees them as not a being, but an extension of ourselves. We use them for our own desires and gain in the same way we exploit nature for its resources, without giving anything to either in return. 

The human race’s connection with nature has been underexplained and undervalued for millennia. We expect that because we cannot hear what has to be said by the elements, we may overtake it for “the greater good.” Everything we see we believe must be ours. Even if we play no part in the cycle and pattern that has been sustained by others. The account given from Undine makes us a human race witness our own faults and manipulation of nature as a whole, exposing our greed and desires for power over the unknown. It is through nature and the environment we must learn to reflect on our race as one and separate ourselves from the idea that we be allowed sovereignty over the languages and beings we cannot understand, and gain the competence to respect the world we have been placed in. We must evolve to see ourselves not as overlords, but a branch of organism at peace and respect of the elements we are provided with. 

Humanity’s separation from Nature.

For this post I will be talking about “The Day after the Wedding, from Undine” Pages 101 to 106 in the Penguin Book.

In the section in the Penguin book for the story Undine, the beginning text before we start reading the story makes sure to emphasize her role as a “water princess” and within the story itself how she alludes to being a “water spirit”. Rather than simply a mermaid. This to me highlights a deeper connection between Undine and nature, that she represents the element of water itself, embodying the bodies of water on the Earth (the oceans, lakes, rivers, etc). The story’s conclusion where we’re told after Huldbrands death, and after his love drifted to someone else (a more mortal or human person), Undine transforms into a body of water surrounding his grave. I saw this and their marriage as humanity’s bond with nature, as there is a saying how we return to nature after death. This made me think about how, in the context of these stories, humanity was much closer to nature, both literally and spiritually in the past, a point our professor made in class.

During the section where Undine talks about other spirits like herself, she says, “that there are beings in the elements which almost appear like mortals, and which rarely allow themselves to become visible to your race,” tells how nature—like Undine herself—is often only partially visible and understood. Showing how humanity is already, even around this time, separating themselves from nature in a way that didn’t necessarily break their bond. But in a way that lessened their understanding/outlook. As when Undine explained this to Huldbrand, “The knight tried to persuade himself that his beautiful wife was under the spell of one of her strange humours, and that she was taking pleasure in teazing him with one of her extravagant inventions. But repeatedly as he said this to himself, he could not believe it for a moment”, this quote shows he doesn’t believe her. Rather only focusing on her beauty.

Struggled a lot to put this into words, so I hope this makes sense.

The Fear of the Unknown and Dream Imagery in “The Day after the Wedding”

In this week’s reading of “The Day After the Wedding, from Undine” from The Penguin Book of Mermaids, Hulbrand’s strange dreams serve as both psychological foreshadowing and also as a symbolic reflection of his unconscious fears of his newlywed. The narration describes how, during the night, he had “wonderful and horrible dreams had disturbed [his] rest; he had been haunted by spectres” and he describes these “spectres” to be “grinning at him by stealth, and had tried to disguise themselves as beautiful women, and from beautiful women they all at once assumed the faces of dragons” (102). This shifting imagery of women turning into monsters does a great job capturing the unstable boundary between danger and beauty, which seems to be an important theme in the story. Hulbrand’s dream functions as a warning that beneath Undine’s enchanting exterior lies a mystery that he doesn’t understand. The transformation from female beauty to a monstrous dragon symbolizes his anxiety about the power and unpredictability of the feminine being, especially within the sacred institution of marriage.

This moment also shows the reading audience that there is a larger Romantic fascination with the supernatural, and is used as a reflection of inner emotion. The “pale and cold” moonlight that is present when Hulbrand awakes blurs the line between dream and real life, which makes the domestic space feel haunted by this unseen presence. His fearful glance at Undine–who is lying beside him in an “unaltered beauty and grace”–shows how quickly love can give way to doubt. Yet his attempt to rationalize this fear–seen when he “reproached himself for any doubt…”–reveals that his struggle is not only against supernatural forces, but also within himself. He wants to believe in her purity and grace, but his subconscious continues to be a force of resistance against that trust.

By beginning the morning with this vision, our author, Fouqué, prepares the reader and foreshadows the later revelation of Undine’s true identity. The dream dramatizes Huldbrand’s deepest unease–that the woman he loves might not be entirely human–and successfully foreshadows the tension between human reason and the supernatural. Through this reading, the story of Undine explores how fear and fascination can coexist in love, and how the supernatural becomes a mirror for the human psyche’s hidden anxieties.

Week 7 close reading response:

“Damsel in distress” is a key trope throughout “The Day After the Wedding, from Undine” passage . The beautiful and spirited Undine is “saved” by knight Huldbrand because she isn’t complete without a man saving her and removing her from her natural environment. No female heroine is found in this story, just shows how men are “complete” human beings that “need” to save a woman who are born “incomplete”. “She really loves him, and after the wedding she reveals to him she is really a water princess who, thanks to their marriage, now has a soul”(penguin 101). A water princess is in need of saving by a mortal man? This is a perfect depiction of how men paint women as helpless and innocent, no matter their upbringing. In the eyes of a man, every hero needs to be a male to help enforce the patriarchal gender norms that help men thrive and keep women deprived. Notice the phrase, “thanks to their marriage”, Huldbrand is the key to Undine’s salvation, that even her father, a Mediterranean Sea water prince, wished for her to marry a human. Undine is automatically portrayed as “baggage” to Huldbrand, despite him willingly marrying her and accepting her as she is or was. Undine was never able to save herself by gaining a soul on her own, her life was set to be doomed without a human man involved. How does the environment come into play? Well, in correlation to the quote and the passage ,the author is assigning nature as feminine. Hence, the nickname “Mother Nature” and the incessant need of man invading her space, in the name of “bettering” her. Our natural environment won’t be left alone as long as man lives.

Undine’s Reflection in the Water

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.)

Seeking Realms

The theme of mer-marriage, as in the case of Undine and later the Little Mermaid, leads us to believe that water beings are seeking out sanctity as they attempt to assimilate into the human world. Even though her world is rich with beauty and “far superior to that of other human beings” Undine leaves it behind in search for a soul and an afterlife. She searches for a way to eternity, calling it an “awake to a purer life.” The recurring story of intermarriage is an attempt to sway humanity into a feeling of superiority. Merbeings are the ones who seek our world, who seek our terrestrial realm, who seek our devotion. When Undine declares that “all beings aspire to be higher than they are” as she has just entered into her marriage, it leads to the claim that man is at the top of that list. And what an assertion, that the afterlife is purer than an existence in harmony with the elements of the earth. This yearn for heaven justifies degradation of earth’s natural resources when even the elements would give up their place on it.

This promotion of superiority and eternal greatness all comes to culmination in the 19th century. A culmination that backfires. After centuries of developing the Christian pomposity of humanity, morality and command of nature through mermaid lore, the public attained a thirst for mermaids. In an industrialized world, humanity wished for a way back to nature. To live in the sea, unscathed from the moral compass of a burgeoning nation and industry. The Feejee mermaid is proof of this as it found people schooling to get a glimpse. And when they saw the bleak counterfeit they had to turn back to the world “disgusted… re-enter(ing) the coal smog of New York city’s streets. (Scribner 125) Mermaid tales attempted to lead us to the verdict that water spirits sought out our realm and our morality due to a superiority. But the narrative had an adverse effect, especially in regard to industrialism. Humans attempted to “peek into the mystical wonder” of merfolk and instead had to remain in their “black cities and black lungs.”