Revised Midterm Close Reading

Thavanh Pais

ECL 305

31 March 2024

The Romance of the Faery Melusine

The Faery at the Fountain’

In ‘The Romance of the Faery Melusine,’ the story revolves around a critical encounter between Melusine and Raymond as he visits a hidden fountain. This passage not only progresses the plot, but it also goes into deeper themes and character dynamics, providing insight into the complexity of the supernatural world and its relationship to human affairs.  In Chapter 3, titled ‘The Faery at the Fountain,’ the depiction of Raymond’s reiterated promise to Melusine symbolizes the delicate balance between trust and curiosity, highlighting the theme of secrecy within their relationship. Through Raymond’s oath to refrain from prying into Melusine’s mysterious absences, the text subtly explores the vulnerability inherent in maintaining secrets, particularly in the context of their intermingling human and supernatural realms. This pivotal moment not only underscores the consequences of transgression but also delves into the intricate dynamics of trust and curiosity within the relationship between Raymond and Melusine.

At the core of the scenario is Raymond’s solemn oath to Melusine, in which he promises, “On my life, I swear that never on that evening or that night will I do anything that might be to your detriment, and that I will, in all goodwill and honor, seek to know nothing about your absence.” This declaration, filled with intensity and gravity, demonstrates the delicate balance of trust and inquiry in their relationship. The repetition of terms like “on my life” and “in all goodwill and honor” emphasize Raymond’s sincerity and seriousness, as well as his deep concern for Melusine. However, it is critical to understand Melusine’s motivations for requesting Raymond’s commitment, as her request is based on her own vulnerabilities. Melusine seeks isolation to reconcile her dual existence and confront the intricacies of her magical nature. Her desire for Raymond’s commitment protects her autonomy and gives her the opportunity to retire into seclusion when necessary, without fear of interference or criticism.

Furthermore, Raymond’s promise not to inquire into Melusine’s absences highlights the idea of secrecy that pervades their encounters. Raymond’s decision to keep his promise sets off a series of events that would eventually change the course of their relationship and the lives of people around them. His commitment to resist the temptation to unravel Melusine’s mysteries underscores the value of integrity and self-control, highlighting the transformative power of moral decisions in shaping one’s destiny. 

Melusine’s reaction to Raymond’s pledge reveals the complexities of her personality as well as the mental struggle she experiences as a result of her magical background. While Melusine appreciates Raymond’s promise to keep her secrets, she is painfully aware of the dangers of disclosing her true identity. The exchange between Raymond and Melusine at the fountain is a microcosm of the larger themes woven throughout the story, capturing the tension between intimacy and autonomy and illuminating the complexities of navigating interpersonal relationships in a world fraught with secrecy and uncertainty. A thorough assessment of their contact reveals the nuances of trust and curiosity, as well as the great emotional resonance of their bond. The fountain is loaded with symbolic importance as a place of encounter and revelation, and emerges as a focal point for exploring the complexities of human connection and the transformative power of love.

Her request for Raymond’s promise could be interpreted as a means of creating a safe space for introspection and self-discovery, away from the pressures and distractions of the outside world. Melusine’s need for seclusion may be related to her desire for independence and self-reliance. Melusine, despite her emotional connection to Raymond and desire to engage in a relationship with him, is likely to value her independence and autonomy as a siren Her request for Raymond’s pledge allows her to assert her boundaries and autonomy in their relationship, ensuring that she has control over her own time and space.

In conclusion, “The Romance of the Faery Melusine” weaves a captivating narrative that explores a variety of themes and character dynamics, with the pivotal encounter between Melusine and Raymond at the hidden fountain in Chapter 3 standing out as the centerpiece. This scene not only progresses the plot but also explores deeper topics, including the difficult balance between trust and curiosity, as well as the theme of concealment in their relationship. Raymond’s solemn commitment to keep from inquiring into Melusine’s strange absences emphasizes the implications of transgression and digs into the complex dynamics of trust and curiosity between them. Equally important is Melusine’s appeal for Raymond’s pledge, which reflects her yearning for autonomy and independence. Her need for isolation is clear, as she seeks a safe haven for introspection and self-discovery away from the constraints and judgments of the outside world. The discussion between them by the fountain captures the tension between intimacy and autonomy, providing a powerful depiction of the complexity of negotiating human relationships in the midst of concealment and ambiguity.

Week 11: Horror for Whom?

Watching Emilija Skarnulyte’s short film “Sirenomelia” reminded me of found footage, a subgenre of horror movies that heavily involve cameras and employ a first-person point of view (POV), which also reminds me of why found footage movies are a thing. In found footage movies, a group of characters use cameras to record their “discovery,” which happens to be the home or resting place of a monster or a deadly nature spirit. Often, one of the members of the group will disrupt the monster’s home or break a rule, which will understandably upset the monster and give them cause to come after them. We always view the movie from the disruptor’s/enabler’s POV, but never from the monster’s POV. Perhaps the monster is going through a horror movie of their own, seeing someone disrupt their home and break their rules so brazenly.

“Sirenomelia” is an interesting short film because it feels like a found footage horror movie, but instead of being from the POV of a human exploring the decommissioned submarine base, we get it from the point of view of a “monster”–a siren. If this found footage film was made from the POV of a human, we would only get a view of the base at the beginning of the film. We’d see the mountains, the surface of the icy sea, the inside of the base, and the lonely expanse of the land. Without the siren’s POV, we wouldn’t be able to see the underwater rail and the sea life that has made its home on the metal poles holding up the base. Exploring the submarine base from the siren’s point of view essentially turns us away from our terracentrist, anthropocentric view and asks us to explore another POV that is not human and not land-based.

Sirenomelia

This week, we watched the short film “Sirenomelia” by NOWNESS. This was an extremely confusing, yet interesting short film. It was extremely haunting and eerie, and its confusion only. amplified the feelings I felt while watching this short film. Defined as “a contemporary culture piece of the ‘New East'” in the description of the video, This piece features sci-fi-esque music that is described as the white noise of a quasar over what feels like a soulless video. I found the symmetrical shots in the beginning of the video to be extremely interesting after looking up the definition of the word sirenomelia, which happens to be a rare condition where a newborn will be born with legs conjoined together. Sirenomelia is referred to as the mermaid syndrome because of this. The shots are long, and with the knowledge I have obtained from a film class I took in high school, these shots are intentional ways of creating stress and tension, as your brain is trained to wait for something to happen in a shot. The mermaid creature that is featured in the second half of the film seems almost lifeless. You cannot see its eyes and it is alone. It almost feels like it is a robotic freak of nature. The closing shot of the mermaid swimming in what looks like an infinite and empty ocean gives me a nihilistic perspective of what life would look like to these creatures. The description also states that the film is essentially about a mermaid exploring an abandoned NATO base, but because of the eerie direction, it is hard to follow (which I mean as a compliment as it truly induced a feeling of angst in me). The ending leaves me feeling empty, which I come to realize I felt that way throughout the entire short, from the long title sequence to the symmetrical shots of the antenna.

Sirenomelia

Eerie. Liminal. Isolated. I can only imagine that someone with Sirenomelia must feel isolated with the condition that they have. What piqued my interest is that when I looked up the word “sirenomelia”, Google told me that not only is this mutation extremely rare, but the likelihood of survival past childhood is even more uncommon. Therefore, I wonder if Škarnulytė purposefully created an isolated character to display how someone who has sirenomelia might feel. I like this piece because it explores a more modern form of art that we haven’t looked at yet in class.

Another aspect of the film I think is cool is the fusion of documentary and fiction. Part of the film observes the natural environment. The sound recordings from a quasar and the slow panning of the desolate landscape. On the other hand, there are depictions of a mermaid in a warmer climate.

Škarnulytė draws an interesting parallel between the deep cosmic and the deep water. I like how the shots of the deep ocean are combined with the cosmic soundtrack and the galactic sounds. It seems like the filmmaker is trying to emphasize the similarities between the Ocean and Space. Somehow this short draws the curious eyes and ears through suspense and the uncanny environment. It starts by showing a place at 2 above freezing, a temperature humans can’t survive in, and I only reluctantly experience for short periods in my ice bath. Although there are people who live above the Arctic Circle, it is for the most part abandoned by humans. Even the word “decommissioned” adds an element of spectrality, making the space seem more liminal. I’d like to hear what my classmates think of this film, and if it reminds them of anything.

The use of variable white balance also makes me question the choice of warmer colors towards the end of the film. Could it be to emphasize a warmer climate? Invoke intimacy with the character? Why did it go black and white for a moment? Was that to make it seem like a long time ago? Galaxy far far away?

Week 11: Sirenemelia Video Analysis Tangent

This week we had to watch a video called Sirenemelia, a six minute video of ominous clips of icy lands, dark waters, and a mermaid-like creature swimming around. There was no audio or much context to go off of. One thing I did pick up was that we do not know much about the ocean and its inhabitants so that feeling of not knowing what the video was about or it having context may have been trying to emulate that same lack of knowledge we have with the water. When the mermaid showed up in the short film, I thought about the mystery or mermaid and that highly debated question of if they truly exist or existed at some point. I feel like when you watch this video someone might feel uncomfortable by it or even a bit scared of the water or unknown, but instead this video made me curious. While watching this video, due to the lack of structure and context, I let my mind fill in the gaps and began to relate it to a TikTok I saw the other week; it was a video of a preacher going back and fourth with a woman in the crowd as to why she should believe Jesus was resurrected if there were no medical records to prove it. His rebuttal to her was that “they did not keep medical records in the first century.” She then exclaimed how convenient that was there was no such thing back then. the preacher than uses her frustration and flips it explaining how it was “convenient” I’ve her to create a condition that she knew was impossible to meet in order for her to become a believer of Jesus’ resurrection. He then goes on to name many well known philosophers, such as Helmer, Aristotle, Sophocles, and so on, that she provide medical records for them. He argues how historical knowledge is not based on medical records, but instead trustworthy eyewitness testimonies; that those philosophers really did live because there’s historical evidence that says that they did therefore the historical evidence that says Jesus resurrected from the dead should be treated with the same willingness to accept as truth. Although I am not trying to equate legitimacy of Jesus and Christianity with mermaids, I thought that the idea of eyewitness testimony from days where there were no records or film to capture information to pass it on, poses the idea that maybe there once was real mermaid and sirens but society just all agreed their literary records were made up entirely. We accept some things as truth in the old dusty books we read, yet other information that is too unfamiliar we deem untrue, but what if it was all real? I say all of that to say that the SIrenemelia video made me revisit the idea that our society as a whole knows very little about the ocean and what may reside in it; perhaps the image of the mermaid was constructed for human beings to learn from and she is made up to fit an agenda, or maybe someone really did see a mermaid or siren at one point and shared that knowledge through books and eyewitness testimony.

One of the components of the Sirenomelia film project that really stood out to me was the way each section of audio helps to mentally transport the viewer into desolate landscapes displayed on screen. The first 15 seconds of the project are filled with white noise as the word ‘Nowness’ appears on a simple white background. The lack of sound feels strange and a bit jarring because of the lack of auditory input. This absence helps to center the viewers focus before the sound abruptly starts on the 16th second. The sound that begins to play is eerie and unsettling which adds to the desolate and isolating feeling that the vast snow covered island imparts on the viewer. The project states that the sounds being recorded come from quasars that come from a Norwegian Observatory. Quasars are not found within the deep ocean but are still found within another desolate and unsettling landscape, outer space. The sound feels almost otherworldly and inhuman, as if the audience is not supposed to hear it. This specific sound lasts for more than a minute before it reaches a crescendo that sounds like a far off cry being distorted, increasing the feeling of unease within the viewer. At around the two minute mark, you can slowly hear the sound of water rippling on the surface emerge from beneath the mechanical/unnatural sound before the sound of the water gets overpowered again. In less than 30 seconds, this distortion continues and it sounds like a human voice is being projected to the viewer rather than the sound of the quasar. Although the noise sounds vaguely human, it’s difficult to discern if there are any words being spoken at all or if it’s a trick being played by the viewers brain.

Sirenomelia

I watched the video at least 5 times trying to understand its purpose and meaning. What I saw was a NATO base in the Arctic with scenes of melting ice and no signs of life other than the Sirenomelia. The video description says “… Sirenomelia—named after a rare congenital deformity called Mermaid Syndrome— sees a mermaid explore a decommissioned NATO base in Arctic Norway.” With this intel, I interpret the video to be a call for action for humans to address climate change. I went ahead and researched what a NATO base was, and it was intended to protect humans against “a variety of threats” but now the challenge is “from human actions against the natural environment” (Bennet). With this context, the video shows the failed mission of humans to protect the environment, and this is further interpreted due to the Sirenomelia shown in the video. As mentioned above, Sirenomelia is a congenital deformity which can symbolize how humans’ relationship to the environment is distorted. 

Bennet, Maddy. “NATO’s Role in Securing a Changing Arctic.” The Henry M. Jackson School of International Studies, University of Washington, 6 May 2020, jsis.washington.edu/news/natos-role-in-securing-a-changing-arctic/#:~:text=NATO%E2%80%99s%20involvement%20in%20the%20Arctic%20to,long%20term%20due%20to%20environmental%20damage.&text=NATO%E2%80%99s%20involvement%20in%20the,due%20to%20environmental%20damage.&text=in%20the%20Arctic%20to,long%20term%20due%20to. 

Week 11: Sirenomelia

Emilija Škarnulytė’s short film, Sirenomelia, depicts a mermaid exploring an abandoned NATO base in the Arctic Ocean. I found the cinematography of the film particularly interesting. The mirrored imaging at the beginning may symbolize shifting perspectives— introducing the audience to the mermaid’s world. In fact, Škarnulytė shifts perspectives throughout the entire film, juxtaposing the barren landscape of the Arctic with the dark and eerie underwater world. That said, the film shows that this landscape is not as barren as it seems by showing a mermaid discovering the forgotten base. In the past few weeks, we have challenged the idea of the ocean as a barren landscape. Škarnulytė’s focus on shifting perspectives emphasizes the idea that the natural world is interconnected. The images blur the boundaries between life on land and the aquatic world.

The decision to have a mermaid— a creature that is half fish and half human— exploring this area also highlights the interconnectedness of our world. Through the mermaid’s perspective, the audience is able to see the impact of human activity on our environment. The scenes of the mermaid swimming around the base are haunting. The water is brown, there’s machinery haphazardly around, and concrete separates the water on the base from the rest of the ocean. These scenes provide a commentary on the effects of human exploitation and the disregard for nature. Škarnulytė confronts the audience with the consequences of our actions, reminding viewers of our interconnectedness with the environment and urging humans to make an effort to protect it.

Week 11: Sirenomelia

While watching Sirenomelia, it felt very off-putting and almost uncomfortable to watch. The sounds in the background and visuals in the beginning definitely contributed to this feeling. It reminded me of watching an episode of Black Mirror where you are so drawn in but you’re not really sure why. It’s simultaneously familiar, while also unsettlingly surreal. The juxtaposition of the mermaid figure against the backdrop of a decommissioned NATO base in the Arctic Circle creates the surreal atmosphere, similar to the unsettling scenes often seen in the Black Mirror episodes. When the camera panned to the mermaid swimming in an industrialized area, it created a contrast that shows the clash between nature and human intervention. It kind of made me feel uneasy as there could easily be mythical creatures living among the ocean and coexisting with the manmade. I think this scene portrays the consequences of industrialization on ecosystems and the intrusion of human activity on natural environments. The inoperative site once filled with activity and human presence now stands abandoned and still, serving as an obstruction among the surrounding natural environment. This sense of desolation, isolation, and decay of the abandoned landscape adds to the overall uneasiness that I felt and I’m sure other viewers felt through watching the film. I feel as if the mermaid and the decommissioned base serve as constructs of past and present, as well as imagination versus reality. The mermaid is a timeless presence, as they have been ingrained across numerous cultures and time periods. They tend to symbolize the untamed forces of nature and the lure of the unknown. The mermaid exists beyond time constraints and can transcend boundaries, or even the lack thereof.

The ending of the film shows the mermaid swimming, on the open ocean from an aerial view. To me, I think this truly shows the endless possibilities and unknowns that may lie in the ocean and beyond the known world. Just as the ocean offers a limitless amount of opportunities, so does the human imagination. Knowing how vast the ocean is truly scares me and maybe it should. Maybe we weren’t meant to explore the ocean, but I still find myself questioning what we are missing by not diving deeper.

Week 11: Sirenomelia and What We Leave Behind

The short film, “Sirenomelia”, directed and performed by Emilija Skarnulyte, reminded me of our previous explorations as a class of Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Little Mermaid”; though, a much more modern and solemn take. The mermaid’s curiosity to explore a decommissioned NATO base mirrors that of The Little Mermaid’s to assimilate into the human mainland, however, Sirenomelia’s mermaid explores a human construction devoid of our presence, full of bizarre metal structures—their obscurity highlighted by the twisting camera lenses and close-up shots distorting their view. Her conceptualization of human activity is one of aggression and uncertainty, as her contact with human life in this instance is through only the remnants of a military site. The depictions of the base, followed by images of surrounding melting ice structures and seaweed marred by murky water paints a fitting, unattractive image of human life through the eyes of the mermaid. Where The Little Mermaid seeks to be one with humanity, I can imagine Sirenomelia wishes to avoid it at all costs. The film allows us to take a close look at ourselves and the impression we leave on the environment around us through the perspective of a half human creature, a monster, whose emotions we can relate to—as her appearance resembles a piece of ourselves. Watching Sirenomelia explore, we experience the impact of our own presence and empathize with the dread and confusion she must feel. We feel shame for the ugly things we abandon for her to find—if the site was decommissioned, why couldn’t we have deconstructed it too? Why did we leave it there to impose on the environment around it for decades to come, long after its use ran its course?

If we knew Sirenomelia would be visiting, would we have cleaned up after ourselves? Most likely, no. Maybe that is the reason she only visits once we’ve gone.