The text that really caught my attention in this week’s reading is on page 84. “They organized the world as two sides of a war, the two-legs in conflict with everything else. The way Suka talked about farming, it was as if they ruled the land and what it produced, as opposed to… existing alongside it” (Solomon 84) It’s a great passage about the human condition delivered through the point of view of Yetu. Throughout the semester we have been discussing the relationship between us and our natural environment. We see that the attitudes have certainly changed over time but for many societies they have truly seen it as something separate from us. i like that the passage also describes human history as one that is constantly at war. That is certainly how history is commonly taught to us. We can orient ourselves within a point of time based on the wars that were being fought and of course, the way that history is taught is commonly taught through the perspective of the conqueror of these wars. We then treat our relationship with the environment as if waging a war against it for our own means of profit. It is something we come in contact with only under our terms. Through these mermaids the book has shown us what living alongside our environment, as a part of it, might look like. I like that later on Yetu comments on her dislike of how the rain breaks water apart, she is so used to it operating as 1 whole body. The Wajinru are simply one more organism forming a part of this one body of water. This again reinforces the ideas of unity that are so prevalent in her community that most of the westernized world does not possess.
Week 14: The Deep
For the Wajinru, the role of the Historian greatly differs from historians for us as humans, or “two-legs”. When Yetu reveals her role as historian to Oori, Oori asks Yetu “‘Were you like a storyteller then?'”. For humans, being a historian is the same as a storyteller, sharing our histories throughout the ages with stories.
While our history can often be painful, we do not experience it in the same way as Yeti, but are not completely void of it as the rest of the wajinru. We are able to share histories both verbally through stories and recorded in words. We have the pleasure of being able to pick up a book and read history, a luxury the wajinru do not get in the ocean. We learn in chapter 6 that even sharing the history verbally with other wajinru is not possible, or too painful an experience for anyone other than Yetu. When she tried to tell her Amaba about her rememberings “frothy water spewed from Abama’s mouth as she made gurgled, choked noises. This is why Yetu was to remain silent about the things she knew” (Solomon, 100).
The wajinru are “consumed with desire” to know the history and understand the past (Solomon, 8). But for Yetu, she describes her role to Oori as holding all the memories of the generations inside her as “six hundred years of pain” (Solomon, 94). A fight sparks between Yetu and Oori when Oori learns that Yetu gave up the memories of her ancestors. Oori explains “‘I would take any amount of pain in the world if it meant I could know all the memories of the Oshuben… Doesn’t it hurt not to know who you are?'” (Solomon, 94). For Oori, a human, it is difficult for her to understand why Yetu would let go of her memories of the past. Especially as a person who has lost all of her history. However, the history of the ocean cannot be recorded in the same way as the history of the land. The characters different orient of views, ocean and land, creates a rift between them. The novel reveals a lot about the importance of history, how we view history, desire of knowledge of the past and self, and the weight the truth carries.
Week 14: The Deep
For this weeks chapter, I find it quite interesting because I was intrigued by how Yetu interacts with humans, whom she refers to as “two-legs.” Her descriptions of them were fascinating, especially since she views the world from an aquatic perspective. For instance, she likened their hair to “large chunks of coral” (Solomon, 71). This is noteworthy as it helps shift the reader’s view from a land-focused to a sea-focused lens (Terracentric). As well chapter 7 stood out to me, as it explores the dynamic between Yetu and Oori. This relationship ultimately nudges Yetu towards making decisions with her own interests at heart. Their attraction to one another adds another layer of complexity to their interaction, focusing more on their essences rather than external differences. This connection ties back to earlier discussions in class about the distinctions between creatures and humans, questioning where we draw the line between them. Yetu is distinctly not a human yet she more than merely an animal. She possesses complex emotions, advanced cognition, and can form meaningful relationships with bipeds, even though she has physical traits like gills and sharp teeth that are non-human. This idea draws me back as well to the argument we had when we read “The Little Mermaid” that mermaids are human as well and they have key characteristics like emotions and family that can argue that they are more human than merely animals.
Week 14: Ch. 5
Chapter 5 really touched me because it showed me how prevalent this book is today. We live in a world with so much going on— wars, ethnic cleansings/genocides, sex trafficking etc etc, and a lot of these things, historical or present, or concealed. History is erased; these experiences are not acknowledged or recognized as significant enough to be more important than certain political agendas, and it is so sad.
Yetu assumes a heavy responsibility. I feel that this is a type of responsibility that many people who have experienced devastating events such as war go through due to attempting preserve history, memories, culture etc. Our identity, or at least what we know of it, is ultimately defined by such devastation and the responsibility of preserving it. I think Yetu wanted to break free from that responsibility and wanted to see herself as Yetu and not just a keeper of memories.
Week 14: Exploring the homeland in The Deep
River Solomon’s The Deep has introduced the readers to only one interesting concept of a homeland that seems as if they are different even though they are not. On page 122, Yetu and Oori both discuss what relationship they have to their homeland. That dialogue between Oori and Yetu illustrates that a homeland can transcend geographical boundaries. A homeland must therefore be seen as a place that holds emotional feelings and collective memories, through which those living beings start to define a place as something that is part of one’s identity. Oori answers Yetu’s question on defining the homeland as followed: “A Homeland is just a place” that “means something because of its history” (p.122). Furthermore, Oori argues that the place needs to be highly protected to not “just be another place” (p122). In comparison to that, Yetu’s “home-sea” is the deep ocean Yetu finds herself in. What I found interesting about that is that they approach the geographical place differently. For Yetu it seems that the homelands holds no emotional significance at all, whereas for Oori it is a place that if it doesn’t get “protect[ed] what is left of it there, [Oori] will have no homeland”. That quote suggests that only the active memories make the place be your homeland. Yetu just ties the homeland to its geographical environment. Nevertheless, the homeland for Yetu as well does have an emotional impact on Yetu. The deep is a a place that is filled with the Wajingru’s memories, their suffering, their lives. It is the place Yetu relives as a hisotrian. Yetu therefore clearly has an emotional relationship to the place that Yetu calls home-sea, too, just like Oori has. The only difference is, that Yetu is living through that emotions over and over again and that Oori compared to that, tries to protect the place to not lose the legacy of it. In general, a homeland is therefore something that always needs to be preserved and protected, no matter how in which way to do that. It always shapes someone’s identity and is not just a place where someone is born in. That was so interesting to see!
The Deep
In River Solomon’s “The Deep,” the concept of memory and the stories associated with it can take on a life of it’s own. Depending on the context of these memories, they can ground the person experiencing them and give them context that informs their identity as wajinru. However, these same memories can also leave wajinru untethered and hollow, like a pried open clam shell who’s meat has been scooped out by a predator. In Yetu’s case, she is the actual vessel for these memories. Both her sense of self and the remembrances fight for control over her body. In a way, these memories are almost parasitic as Yetu has to fight to keep herself from slipping into them, and at times gives in until she can break free from their grasp. On page 69, Yetu states that she left the Wajinru to endure the full weight of their history, and that for the first time in many years her body felt weightless. The history and the memories associated with this history have a living dimension to it, they are physical agents that can press or interact with the bodies of the Wajinru. As a historian, the memories need Yetu’s body to be physically alive in order to carry them. However, this doesn’t account for both the mental and physical anguish the Rememberances have on her as she states that “it’s killing me (p.94),” when referring to the memories. Because memories themselves are alive, they encompass the duality of suffering and understanding and can cause a palpable effect on the people experiencing them.
Blog Post Week 14 — Chapter 5
This week I was drawn to chapter 5 of The Deep. I think it was interesting seeing Yetu’s interaction with humans, or as she calls them, “two-legs”. I found it intriguing the way that Yetu described the humans, however considering that she is an aquatic being, it makes sense that it is an ocean-centric vision. She described their hair as “large chunks of coral” (Soloman, 71). I believe this is important to note because it fully shifts the perspective of the reader outside of their human, terracentric perspectives of the world. The next part that stood out to me was the part about a war between the wajinru and humans. The book states, “Water erupted from the sea and flowed onto the surface. A war? The ocean war? The wave war?” (Solomon, 72) I believe it alluded to a huge tsunami, but claimed that it was intentionally caused by the wajinru as an act of sabotage. I’d be curious to know more about what sparked the war between them; could it be a sustainability related topic, like pollution or overfishing? Nonetheless, I am curious and hope we find out later in the story.
The next part that stood out to me was when Yetu thinks, “Everything would be all right now that she was free” (75, Solomon). I think this is almost funny because it sounds like a foreshadowing of the trouble on the horizon. I can’t necessarily relate to being physically freed from somewhere, but whenever I think something like that or that everything will be alright, it is usually the start of utter chaos for me. I feel like it’s one of those things you don’t say as to not jynx it, but who knows we will find out as the story unfolds. Kinda going back to the first part I mentioned her describing people in terms of the ocean is that she too views the ocean differently from above. The book states, “the vastness of the ocean looked so different from above, so much less comprehensible. […] Cut off from them, she had trouble making sense of who or what she was” (Solomon, 76). It literally goes as far as saying that her separation from the ocean has flipped her identity, which we also see her get into at the end of the chapter with her expression of what she feels her role as historian was. Another point is that she can recognize that from above the ocean can seem disinviting, and that her perspective from below looking up is an entirely different relationship with the water that most humans might have.
Week 14: The Deep
In this week’s reading I thought something important that was presented was the concept of self identity. I couldn’t help notice the times in which Yetu felt as if she didn’t know who she was anymore, or if that she was anyone for that matter. It was intriguing to read and make a mental image of Yetu evolving as we first read her with the importance of being a historian to the wajinru people and sacrificing herself for others as that is all she has ever known since the age of 14, to finally escaping that life and going through the process of finding her own identity away from the influence of others like her Amaba. Although Yetu had escaped she still had no real sense of where she felt she belonged as being in the deep meant death for her return or staying on land away from her people, “She didn’t know where she belonged, if returning to the wajinru would mean the death of her. But she wasn’t suited for like here” (page 112). In the eyes of Yetu both situations were a lose-lose, she would either loose her people or her life which is something she did intentionally ask for. Reading about this identity development felt almost as if Yetu was about to start approaching the developmental cycle that was never got to fully experience as she was just thrown into this role of historian at such a young age that now that she left her people she was able to think and decide for herself.
I also enjoyed the entirety of chapter 7 as you can see the development of Yetu and Oori’s relationship. Oori is almost like Yetu’s other half, the half that challenges her, makes her question her decisions, to truly seeing things from a different lens, but ultimately push her to make decisions for herself selfishly. It was also interesting to read that there was a lust going on between the two as they were from different worlds and different beings, but still focused on who they were as beings instead of the outliers. I think this idea also goes back to early class discussions of what differentiates a creature and human, what is the border between the two? It was clear that Yetu was not a two-leg being but she was not also fully an animal, she was still able to feel different emotions, have a more advanced thinking, and even develop a relationship with other two-leg beings but still had physical features of an animals such as gills and rows of sharp teeth. This was a thought I kept through what I’ve read so far and just makes me wonder more about life outside of humanity but also the borders that classify what is human and non.
Week 14: Value of History in The Deep
I found all of the chapters we had to read this week extremely interesting. I think that the discussion about history and its relation to personal identity was particularly fascinating because it is very applicable to contemporary discussions about history. As Yetu struggles with her identity as the historian of the wajinru, the readers are encouraged to think about their personal experience with history, both the history taught in school and personal/familial history. In Chapter 5, there are many moments where Yetu is trying to come to terms with her lack of remembering past events but the moment that stood out to me most was when she thinks that, “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, p. 53). Without the history of her people, she felt as if she was unimportant and was adrift. Even though being the historian for her people was hard for her, without that knowledge Yetu was left confused and felt the absence of that history even more intensely. This emphasized how important it is to know and understand the history of your culture, country, etc. because without knowing the events and people that came before you, there is a void in your knowledge that can lead to dangerous repetitions of history.
There was also an interesting discussion about personal history in Chapter 7 when Oori’s past is mentioned. As the last person alive of her people, Oori has a deep commitment to honoring her culture’s practices and history. In Chapter 7 when the storm begins to build, Oori leaves to protect her homeland and the people who live on the land Yetu found herself on said that “that the place Oori was from wasn’t really a homeland anymore because a homeland needed a people. Without a people, it was just a patch of earth” (Solomon, p. 82). This made me think about how important personal history is and how one single person can preserve their culture. This also raised some questions for me because who decides what a homeland is? Oori is still alive and she comes from that place, so would that not still be considered her homeland regardless if she is the last of her people?
week fifteen: the Deep Again
So our girl Yetu was rescued by humans, which I find an interesting take on the mermaid mythos because usually its the mermaid who does the rescuing? Like how in the Little Mermaid, the mermaid in there rescued the prince from drowning, but in The Deep, Yetu’s being fed and looked after.
Also her relationship to Oori is interesting to me, because its this book’s instance of the two worlds meeting in the middle- both grapple with companionship as well as the past. I think Oori continuing to ensure that her homeland stays up despite being the last of her entire group/kin is important because in a way, it ties into the whole “ocean is an archive” thing- she’s ensuring that her history stays up, and that there IS a homeland that exists out there for her to return to. In way, Oori represents the idea that it is one’s duty to ensure that their history stays remembered. Yetu is a sort of a parallel because her entire culture is based on the idea that only ONE person should remember so everyone else can forget, and like… The way they contrast each other in this aspect is interesting.
Both were essentially forced into being the upholders, the historians, and yet they have such different approaches to how they do this. This is such a refreshing take on the mermaid tale and I’m really enjoying it so far.