One of the kinds of stories that never fails to move and deeply impact me are those revering a woman’s ability to give life.

 In not only many works of literature, but also in disgusting, widely held beliefs, a woman’s fertility is seen as something to be dominated, used against her; that the ability to give birth makes her weak, the lesser sex, and inherently characterizes her existence as one meant to be lived in service to a man—bearing his children. This degradation of a woman’s existence and objectification of her body is prevalent in the historical summaries of the western/Christianized works of mermaids we’ve examined in this course so far. We’ve learned about the various tales told of sea women being ripped from their homes and forced to marry their assailants, having children they didn’t want and couldn’t comprehend loving—as they were not only born of suffering, but estranged from her nature as a sea creature, or maybe even used as a means of chaining her to land by leveraging a mother’s need to be with/protect her children (if the mermaid is even capable of feeling any love for the life they were brutally forced to create). The Inuit story of Sedna circumvents this pattern in a refreshing, glorious way.

 Firstly, in this tale, the “mermaid” (though Sedna was a human before she was cheated first out of her freedom, then out of her life) is the victim of abuse, not the men she interacts with. The suffering imposed on her was not justified by the story, but scorned—unlike the tales that regard mermaids as inherently sinful creatures that deserve their cruel treatment. The story is about a man’s deception and not a woman’s; deviating from the western belief perpetuated by the church that women are inherently untrustworthy and predatory. This makes sense, as the Inuit were not touched by Christianity, and therefore, did not absorb their beliefs. Not only was Sedna betrayed by the man who married her, but she was betrayed by her father as well. One of the most disgusting and stomach-turning events to watch or hear is a parent turning on their own child; It is a corruption of the title “parent”, an adulteration of nature. This brutality incites a feeling of heartbreak and disgust, serving to scorn the maltreatment of women—to empathize with a woman’s pure love being used against her. 

But although Sedna’s love was leveraged as a means of harming her, or betrayed by the one man whose love she was promised she could rely on (her father), she does not turn to cruelty, nor morph into a creature symbolic of her anguish. Instead, beautiful, innocent life is born from her blood and pain; she fills the sea with creatures that exist as the lifeblood of her people, that they rely on to nourish them. In this way, Sedna becomes a form of Mother Nature, both revered and depended on for her fertility. She has the power to control what she allows others to take, and she is worshiped for it. When she becomes angry and refuses to send life to her people, Shamans turn themselves into willing sacrifices to go provide the care she desires so that she may be satisfied and return such care. It is almost an act of appreciation for her work. 

Sedna’s ability to give life is not regarded as something to be taken from, but to be blessed with. In a divergence of cultures, some worship Mother Nature, and some see her as something to be dominated; a fact made very apparent by the difference of the Inuit story of Seda and the predatory illustrations of Christianity’s mermaids. The very cultures that abuse mermaids moved on to abuse and take from Mother Nature, whereas those that celebrate the creatures live in reverie of the environment. I’m excited to read more stories such as this one, that fill me with joy and not heartbreak; that share in the appreciation of women and their blessed connection to Mother Nature.