Week 13 reading response

Regarding the short story of Aganju and Yemaja from The Penguin Book of Mermaids and how Yamaja death/life is a sacrifice for birthing life and multiple dieties, due to her spreading water on earth. This only occurred from being pushed to the extreme because her son raped her and was chasing her. Yemaja was overcome with fear for her life having to potentially face her son again ,“Then her body immediately began to swell in a fearful manner, two streams of water gushed from her breasts and her abdomen burst open”(169). It plays into a patriarchal role that Yemaja’s death had to occur for life to jumpstart and for the environment to thrive, given that she is “the goddess of brooks and streams, and presides over ordeals by water”(168), she seems to have had all-mighty powers that weren’t used to defend herself. Another factor that embraces a patriarchal side is that Orungan, a male, noticed a clear amount of power imbalance between the two, when alone he felt he had “liberty” of Yemaja’s body without her consent. Takeaway from this story is that when men see a far more powerful woman in their presence, their need to control and tame their uninhibited nature is strong, and make them their subject, which leads to women getting abused and reinforcing gender roles and harmful patriarchal ideas.

Week 13: African Mermaids and Other Water Spirits

I find it interesting how even throughout the transatlantic slave trade, water deities such as Yemoja/Yemaja were still worshiped throughout rough historical times for Yourban people. It would make sense how throughout slavery like this that occurred throughout different coasts that a figure closer to the water would seem fitting to pray and worship to during a time like this. But not only that, the trade and spread of this water diety was shared with other places like, “[…] Brazil, Uruguay, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, and the United States” (Pg. 166), which I could only assume is how other forms of Yemoja developed association with similar beings like Mami Wata.

Reason being why this stood out was considering how consistently throughout history there are different takes on sub-human creatures, Mermaids, or water dieties based on the social and religious need of society during that time. For example, the Christianity’s need to portray mermaids in a hyper sexual way to warn off men from giving into lust and desire, or in this case, slaves search for a sense of comfort from Yemoja during there transatlantic moves.

Water Spirits as History

In the section titled “African Mermaids and Other Water Spirits” from The Penguin Book of Mermaids, the authors highlight the idea that these water spirits are part of a long history and become a way to learn more about African culture. By looking to water spirits as a way of gaining knowledge about a community, it de-centers the Eurocentric view of learning as something that has to be scientific and come from a traditional historical account.

What stood out to me specifically was the description of the Yoruba people of West Africa and that “When the Yoruba peoples were captured during the transatlantic slave trade, they brought their worship of Yemoja [the water deity] with them” (Penguin 166). Rather than simply seeing the water deity Yemoja as being “associated with family, women, motherhood, and the arts” (Penguin 166), she becomes interlaced within the pain and suffering that many of the Yoruba and West African peoples were subjected to by colonial powers. Her migration from West Africa across the Atlantic Ocean can then be seen as a testament to the forcible movement they faced as they kept the belief alive through the continuation of her memory for many generations. She essentially allowed them to keep their heritage and connection to the homeland during a time of increased stress and torment. Subsequently, Yemoja is a figure who provided comfort at a time when Yoruba people were being treated as if they were not human, and oftentimes did not have many ways to cope with the lack of humanity that they were given. By looking at Yemoja as not just a water spirit but as a chronicle and archive of the history of the Yoruba people, she becomes a historical figure that allows us to dive deeper into a narrative that is frequently silenced due to a lack of traditional historical knowledge.

Looking at water spirits as a method for learning about a culture is then significant because it moves away from a Eurocentric perspective that views history as something that is visible and concretely recorded. This moves mythologies away from a fictional realm and into a historical realm by acknowledging that these myths and beliefs are based in reality and come from lived experiences that are significant to a culture. We can then use these myths as a way to bridge the gap between a western account of history and those who are left out of those written and preserved accounts of events.

Cavities, Vessels, and the Weight of Memory in The Deep

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 prominently 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” extends 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 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 defined 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 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 utilizes the imagery of feeling lost, uncertain, and unfulfilled through Amaba and Yetu’s individual, and yet similar, experiences with the absence and “hole” that having their history be forgotten has hurt them. Solomon’s overarching metaphor that 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 fully fill.