Ranya Tobin

Professor Pressman

ECL 305

Final Essay 

05/09/2024

Edna Pontilier: How A Modern Selkie Incarnate Contests Terracentric Epistemology

The land exists at the forefront of our minds as the arbiter of our existence. It is where we stake our claim and build our homes—and the law that governs it, governs us, in turn. That is what makes the myth of the Selkie so alluring. The selkie has both a home on land and within the Ocean, granting it the privilege of fluidity, both in physical form and lifestyle; it has the freedom to exist in its truest state, regardless of what the society on land demands. Societal pressures impose on us land-dwelling humans insecurities, inequities, and systemic oppression that selkies and other sea creatures are immune to. The longing to escape the suffocating reality of these demands is encapsulated by the novel The Awakening (1898), by Kate Chopin, with the protagonist Edna Pontilier desperate to break free of 1800s American gender roles. Edna finds her situation unlivable to the degree that she swims into the Ocean with the plan to never return, which is commonly read as her suicide, however, reading Edna as a selkie, and one robbed of her pelt, offers a different interpretation of the ending. If Edna is a selkie, the Ocean is her home, so instead of a tragic suicide, her choice to enter the water is an escape from the man-made institutions of the land that kept her bound to her husband’s house. Through this lens, the ending becomes a beginning. This alternative way of reading the novel’s ending offers a means of circumventing terracentric epistemology by recharacterizing the Ocean as a transformative place that offers new opportunities for existence, rather than the unsurvivable void Western ideas previously believed it to be (see Vast Expanses). Reading The Awakening as a selkie story awakens readers to the limits a terracentric outlook imposes on their imaginations and invites reading beyond the constructed boundaries this paradigm enforces.

A Selkie is a mythical creature with roots stemming from Viking Ballads of 793 AD to Ancient Ireland and the Northern Isles of Scotland (McEntire). The Selkie is traditionally a woman, and most iconic for her thick, beautiful coat of fur. When hooded, selkies roam the sea freely as seals, but when their coats are removed, they become beautiful humans able to tread upon land. These coats exist as a symbol of the woman’s autonomy, as she decides what form she takes. However, this liberty is too easily usurped; Many Selkie stories follow a similar plotline, where a Selkie’s coat is stolen from her by a pirate or leering land-born man and held ransom against her will. Without the pelt, the Selkie is barred from returning to her natural form and is forced to conform to human life as her assailant’s wife. Her existence on land is in service to her captor, as she is obligated to bear him children and keep his house, however, each retelling of the myth gives the seal woman the chance to make a great escape. Their husband is bound to make a mistake, accidentally revealing the location of where he has hidden the coat through a slip of the tongue or a failed hiding spot, and she seizes the opportunity to steal it back and regain her access to the sea. The selkie will always return to the Ocean at the end of these stories, as she is an animal, not meant to exist within the confines of human constructs. Without looking back, she hastily abandons the life she was made to live on land, including the children she was forced to bear, in exchange for her freedom—which she desires above all else.

The Awakening, by Kate Chopin, written in 1898, coincidentally follows the classic Selkie plotline. The story centers around the character Edna Pontillier, a 28 year old housewife in Louisiana, with two young boys and a husband named Léonce Pontellier who is a forty-year-old, wealthy New Orleans businessman. Edna is a victim of the 1898 status quo, where a woman’s only purpose in life and typically only option is to serve a husband and bare him children. Some women happily take to this role, as observed in her friend Adele Ratignolle, but Edna is not one of these women. Edna is different, and something deep within her violently rejects the role that was forced upon her. She feels “an indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, [and] filled her whole being with a vague anguish.” (Chopin 16). Nancy Cassle McEntire’s article, “Supernatural Beings in the Far North: Folklore, Folk Belief, and the Selkie.”, explains the emotions of the Selkie housewives, stating that “[The selkie] often longs for the sea, but she resigns herself to her fate and becomes a dutiful wife and mother.” (McEntire 8). Edna and the Irish Seal Women share each other’s anguish, forced to be wives to husbands they do not love and mothers to children they never wanted to have. They live in despair, wishing to escape the oppression keeping them tethered to their husband’s homes. Edna resents her role as a housewife, knowing she cannot fully be herself when acting within the confines of the gender role imposed on her. Despite feeling a natural maternal affection for her children, she is unable to abandon the desire to exist as her truest self, stating, “I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my life for my children; but I wouldn’t give myself.” (116). The core of Edna’s being longs to be free; she yearns for independence and the opportunity to explore a life beyond the house she was made to keep and the men she is forced to serve. This is very similar to how a Selkie, no matter how long she remains on land or how much she may care for her children, will always long for the sea above all else. The Awakening also features frequent symbolism of the Ocean as a place of freedom and revitalization, and Edna’s draw to it mirrors the connection between Selkies and their home. Edna ponders how, “the voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.” (39). The novel’s fixation on the Ocean and how it calls to Edna is uncannily similar to what a Selkie would experience in her situation. The Ocean acts as a refuge, warm and inviting like the home Edna did not have on land. It is a space that welcomes her and promises to revitalize her soul. This puts Edna on track to reaching the sea as an inevitable destination.

Understanding Edna’s connection to the mythical Selkie drastically changes the ending of her story. The Awakening ends with Edna deciding to commit suicide by walking into the Ocean and swimming as far as she possibly can until her body eventually gives in to exhaustion—drowning her. By interpreting The Awakening as a selkie story, Edna’s final act is not one of self destruction or a result of an untreated mental health crisis. Instead, if Edna herself is a selkie, this end is not a death, but a return. Before this return, she transforms in a reverse-Selkie fashion; “she cast the unpleasant, pricking garments from her, and for the first time in her life she stood naked in the open air, at the mercy of the sun, the breeze that beat upon her, and the waves that invited her.” (268). Where a selkie would throw on her hood to return to her seal form before diving in, Edna strips off the clothes she is made to wear within the rules of the human world and enters the water in only her natural, naked body. She goes on to describe that “she felt like some new-born creature, opening its eyes in a familiar world it had never known.” (269). The novel takes care to describe that this is an encompassing transformation of self. Edna is no longer existing within the body governed by stringent societal expectations. She shifts much like her Selkie predecessors into a form with which she can enter a new life. The most curious thing about Edna’s “death” however…is the novel never actually states that she passes away. The final sentence of the novel is “there was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.” (270). This is the final Earthly sensation Edna experiences, but she does not perish within the water—at least, the text never states so. This ending is left up to interpretation, with readers operating under a terracentric lens assuming she dies. This assumption makes apparent the limitations terracentrism imposes on our imaginations. When knowing nothing other than life on land, we neglect to envision life anywhere else. Observing this conclusion through the lens of a Selkie story opens readers to a new paradigm of thought: looking beyond the constructed reality of land-based society and conceptualizing our own reality.   The ending where Edna transforms and escapes into the sea to live out the free existence she was always meant to achieve invites us to picture our own transformations and self-determined existences outside of what land-based society tells us is acceptable or possible. 

This new lens through which The Awakening may be read contrasts the terracentric beliefs that dominate our social consciousness. Terracentrism, as defined in The Ocean Reader, written by Eric Paul Roorda, “refers to people’s tendency to consider the world and human activity mainly in the context of the land and events that take place on land.” (The Ocean Reader, Roorda). Because humans cannot breathe within the water, nor colonize or terraform it, many European-based cultures have mistakenly believed it to have no history or meaning. It is important to understand that terracentric stems from early European culture, as a vast amount of cultures such as the Inuit or religions such as the Yoruba tradition actually worship the Ocean and intertwine their cultural identity and society with it intimately. The rejection of the Ocean’s worth as an archive and our place in it, persisting from early European colonization of the world, ultimately limits us in what we imagine is capable of our existence. Traditional Terracentric values gravely mischaracterize the Ocean as an arbiter of death—a void unwelcome to human life (see Vast Expanses). In this case, the Ocean is devoid of stories, of history. However, reading The Awakening through an Ocean-centric perspective offers readers a new hope; when met with stories that extend into the water, the restrictions we experience on land become arbitrary.  Life is difficult on land; our constructed, land-based society is corrupted with values that are oppressive to not only women, as experienced by Edna, but also minorities, those whose identities are not deemed acceptable by the status quo, and those without wealth. An Ocean-centric point of view allows us to recognize a world outside of these constructed boundaries—a space where life persists and life forms evolve without regulation. In the Ocean, we could be free to transform into our truest self, just as Edna did…which leads us to question why the same can’t be done on land. Steve Mentz’s “Deterritorializing Preface”, a snippet of his greater work, Ocean, emphasizes the opportunities an Ocean-centric perspective can offer us, claiming that “The great waters open up a dynamic environment, fluid, saline, moving, and moved… Watery transformation deterritorializes.” (Ocean xv). Mentz goes on to explain that the Ocean’s ever-changing nature is conducive to humanity’s ability to change, and scuttles the importance of predetermined, “grounded”  reality. When we take inspiration from the flow state of the Ocean, embracing fluidity, we see that change is not only positive, but occurring continuously, and a rigid state of thought inhibits development. This rigid state is what kept life on land unlivable for Edna and others like her, but instead of retreating to the Ocean, we can bring the acceptance the Ocean offers onto the land. 

The Awakening by Kate Chopin was a monumental text of its time, with its ending leaving a lasting, sorrowful impression on its readers. To end the story with a suicide was a powerful choice, insisting to the novel’s readers that the social norm of a woman’s role being defined for her creates an uninhabitable existence for women who desired more. However, The Awakening as a Selkie story offers a peek into the Ocean’s reality, where there are no institutions to abide by the rules of, allowing us to recognize the obtuse nature of terracentric, stagnant ideologies. Edna’s Selkie ending encourages us to transform as we wish and push for a state of change on land that mirrors that of the Ocean. When reflecting with an Ocean-based ideology, the way in which we govern ourselves on land shifts, and we become free mould our society in a way inclusive to all states of being.

Citations: 

Chopin, Kate. The Awakening. Penguin Classics, 2018.

Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown, “Introduction: The Stories We Tell about Mermaids and Other Water Spirits” (Penguin, ix-xxii)

Mentz, Steve. Ocean, Bloomsbury Academic & Professional, 2020. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/sdsu/detail.action?docID=6036857.

Nancy Cassell McEntire. “Supernatural Beings in the Far North: Folkore, Folk Belief, and the Selkie.” Scottish Studies (Edinburgh), vol. 35, 2010, pp. 120-, https://doi.org/10.2218/ss.v35.2692.

Rozwadowski, Helen M.. Vast Expanses : A History of the Oceans, Reaktion Books, Limited, 2019. ProQuest Ebook Central,

Casey Meyer

Professor Pressman 

9 May 2024

Literature and the Environment: Mermaids

Mermaids and Marketing

The study of mermaids over various cultures and histories provides a brilliant perspective to analyze the interconnection between Marketing and Literature. Christian allegories of mermaids have served as a physical embodiment of lust and temptation as Scribner shows in Merpeople: A Human History, and later, Barnum capitalized on the Feejee mermaid as a source of exotic entertainment through strategic marketing. Furthermore, ‘The Little Mermaid’ shaped social norms and values in young American girls, while Starbucks utilizes a mermaid as its brand image to symbolize indulgence and desire.  Considered together, these case studies highlight the intertwined nature of storytelling and persuasion influencing societal norms and cultural values. 

Merfolk–and more-specifically mermaids–have been hypersexualized throughout Western Literature. Before the conception of science, humans believed and had faith in much of the mythical and unknown as it was presented in the media. This was further exploited through the invention of the printing press, as people could study the unknown and unexplored lands through mass-produced news and published papers (Scribner, 59). Scribner questioned the exponential boom in mermaid stories as to, “whether such obsession fueled, or was fuelled by, Westerners’ push into unknown worlds in the fifteenth century,” (Scribner, 59). As these lands were unknown, it was a fair assumption that mermaids and other beings could exist in untraveled and ‘unconquered’ lands. “Europeans thus found merpeople in every new land they explored, thereby fuelling the Christian Church’s centuries-old narrative surrounding these monstrosities, while also validating Westerners’ interest in them” (Scribner, 60). The fact that mermaids were considered monstrous capitalizes on the idea that they are something wrong, scary, and evil. The term “monster” has always been used negatively, and its origin in the Latin roots monstrum, bares the idea that it is a deformity or made wrong. In Chrisian tales, merfolk were predominantly baring female characteristics, and hypersexualized with bare breasts and long, luscious hair. Considering the time period of these works, in western cultures, women were expected to be entirely covered with clothing from head to toe, and mermaids were depicted in the exact opposite light with much visible skin and nudity. Scribner even says that in the sixteenth-century, prostitutes were referred to as ‘mermaids’ or ‘sirens’ (Scribner, 61), further exemplifying the idea that these women were considered monsters and horrific, and surely something to be avoided. Continuing on the narrative of gender norms, the Christian Church was determined to market the concept that women were less important than men and simply there to bear and raise children, limiting their roles in society. In Scribner’s words, “the Christian Church had spent the last ten centuries equating femininity with inferiority,” (Scribner, 60) making it the norm that women were useless and ultimately something one might not wish to identify as. Although blatantly ignorant and disrespectful, the Christian Church used stories and symbols of mermaids to represent temptation, which is generally related to sin. Temptation is an inherent part of life, thus making mermaids a powerful attraction to men at the time. Furthermore, it is important to draw attention to the fact that the typical ideation of a mermaid is a white, possessing blonde hair, and female. Mermaids of color have been marginalized across Western literature and cultures. This goes to show that the church used mermaids to frame ideas about women and how they should behave and be portrayed, influencing social norms which reflected in the way that women were treated and how they dressed. 

Mermaids have been economically capitalized on for various marketing purposes over the years, but one particular and direct example comes from Barnum’s Feejee Mermaid. In 1842, Phineas Taylor Barnum created a scheme to monetize what was presented to him as the first and only captured mermaid (Bacchilega and Brown, 239). Barnum wrote various letters to numerous publishing companies detailing that he had possession of a mummified mermaid and that he had the renowned, Dr. Griffin, confirm that Barnum did indeed have a real mermaid (although it was simply a lie and his friend pretended to be Dr. Griffin). Barnum’s message soon made it into a plethora of news publications, reaching many audiences and gaining widespread awareness. From there, many visitors came to see the mermaid, willing to pay top dollar for just a simple glimpse. Upon arrival, most visitors found themselves distraught at its sight being that it was the top-half of a monkey attached to the tail-end of a fish by metal wiring. One news publication about the Feejee Mermaid stated that, “some naturalists have declared that there is too much evidence of the existence of these animals to warrant them in pronouncing the mermaid to be a mere creature of fancy” (Bacchilega and Brown, 241). This is one example of how far this fabrication got out of hand in that Barnum had reputable sources declaring this hoax legitimate. After inaccurately describing the mermaid, most articles proceeded to detail many other mermaid sightings with the intent of convincing the audience that this mermaid was indeed real. This mass-production of media from what people believed to be honest sources was all a scheme created by Phineas Barnum to create hype and generate money for himself. He ultimately used deceptive marketing techniques to draw in consumers with the utilization of a mermaid for his own personal benefit. To further advance this point, Barnum’s idea of the Feejee Mermaid has been further extrapolated into marketing methods like the Michael David Freakshow Chardonnay. This wine label depicts a mermaid in a display case, with labels stating, “SHE’S ALIVE” and “AMAZING!” directly connecting this image to the Feejee mermaid with the concept of false advertising in mermaids. To continue this idea, similar advertisements and verbage was used to draw consumers into Barnum’s scheme, comparative to the way that consumers are attracted to the statements on the wine bottles. Even more interesting is the thought that had Barnum been alive today, his advertisements for his mermaid might look something similar to this label. The Michael David Winery marketing team deliberately made these references to increase wine sales by embodying the concepts of differentiation and freakishness as a tourist attraction. 

Another narrative that has shaped societal norms and a way of thought is Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid published in 1837. Although similar to the Disney version, this story is much darker and lays the groundwork for the way in which young women were ‘supposed’ to behave in Western societies. This story conveys a coming of age, a loss of innocence, and obedience in young girls. The story opens with an explanation that once a mermaid turns fifteen, they are allowed to go to the surface. After the little mermaid turns fifteen in one of her visits to the surface, she saves a young prince from certain death and soon falls in love with him, making her strive to be human so she can have his hand in marriage. In order to become human, the Sea Witch says she must give up her voice. For starters, the fact that she is only allowed to go to the surface after she turns fifteen is important because this is the average age of puberty, establishing her potential ability to bear children which reflects her coming of age. Another aspect reinforcing this is that at the age of fifteen in Mexican culture, this is the age at which a girl transitions into womanhood, celebrated in what is referred to as a Quincenera. During the Little Mermaid’s celebration, her mother pins large oyster shells to her tail which bring pain to the mermaid. Her grandmother responds saying, “‘Pride must suffer pain,’” (Bacchilega and Brown 113), which bears a similar ring and meaning to the saying “beauty is pain”. This quote indicates that girls have to act and portray themselves in a particular way, reflecting obedience and creating an idea for how girls should see themselves and act in order to fit into society. Another aspect of this story that promotes and advertises the way girls should behave is that in order for her to gain a soul, she must be chosen by the prince for marriage, further adding to the idea that she has to portray herself in a certain demeanor in order to be presentable and accepted by her potential future husband. This again adds to the subliminal message advocating that young girls must behave a certain way, and with it being such a mass-produced book and film, this message has shaped and influenced societal norms and gender roles. 

Lastly, another example of a mermaid in marketing is the well-known logo of Starbucks coffee. The logo, if looked at closely, is a mermaid with long hair, a crown, and holding her split tail in each hand. Referring to some of the above claims, this logo is relatively subductive. The crown, which is universally understood as a symbol of royalty, created the idea in the consumer’s mind that perhaps if they consume their products, they too might be of an upper-echelon and high class. Considering some of their high prices of coffee, this concept is again reinforced because it sure isn’t sustainable to purchase coffee from here on a day-to-day basis. Being that it is a female, it makes it relatable to women and serves as an attraction towards the male audience. Looking at her split tail is a sign of suggestion, prompting the question of what might be below the cutoff of the picture. This concept plays on some of the topics discussed earlier in this essay in that it can be perceived as temptation. Being that coffee possesses caffeine, an addictive chemical, many people believe that they need their daily dose, and without it some can experience headaches, irritability, and other withdrawals. The split tail suggests that consumers should indulge in their addictions and give into their temptations for their needs. However, at the end of the day, one can very easily live without caffeine in their life. Overall, this logo is convincing and plays on consumers’ subconscious wants and desires that are reflected through the image of a mermaid. 

In conclusion, there are many different meanings and interpretations of what the symbol of a mermaid is and can be that vary across cultures and time. Many authors and professional marketers have found that this symbol and heuristic can be utilized to convey a particular message or convince consumers into purchasing something. These examples are highlighted in ancient Christian allegories described in Scribner’s writings, Phineas Taylor Barnum’s monetary capitalization of the Feejee Mermaid (which is reflected in modern times with Michael David’s Chardonnay wine label), Hans Christian Andersen’s story, The Little Mermaid, and through the subliminal marketing in the universally understood logo of Starbucks coffee. Together, these symbols and heuristics are able to convince audiences to think or purchase something. After reading this essay, consider all of the locations that you see mermaids, and ask yourself: what is the reasoning behind this mermaid in this particular location? Reflect upon what a mermaid is to you, and whether or not the message you are viewing aligns with or contradicts your mental vision of a mermaid.

Works Cited

Bacchilega, Cristina, and Marie Alohalani Brown. The Penguin Book of Mermaids. Penguin Books, 2019. 

Scribner, Vaughn. Merpeople: A Human History. REAKTION BOOKS, 2024. 

Emmanuel Alvarez

Jessica Pressman

ECL 305:Literature in the Environment

8 May 2024

Mermaids as Allegorical Tools in “The Bestiaire Divin”

In “The Bestiaire Divin” by Guillaume le Clerc de Normandie (1210), mermaids serve as a potent allegorical tool, reflecting the medieval Church’s use of mythological creatures to illustrate the dangers of succumbing to sinful temptations and the moral vigilance necessary for spiritual salvation, thereby highlighting the complex interplay between folklore and clerical/church-related doctrine in shaping societal values during the Middle Ages.

Prior to exploring the mermaid symbolism in “The Bestiaire Divin,” it is important to comprehend the historical background of the work. Guillaume le Clerc de Normandie composed his bestiary during the High Middle Ages, a period marked by the dominance of the Christian Church in Europe. The Church was crucial in forming society ideals since its teachings had an impact on many facets of medieval life, such as literature and art. At this period, the Church’s influence encompassed not only issues pertaining to faith but also areas like morals, ethics, and social order. Literary works and arts often used religious themes and symbols to teach spiritual and moral teachings, demonstrating the Church’s widespread influence.

As noted by Vaughn Scribner in his book, Merpeople, A Human History, “During the medieval period, merpeople defined – and reflected – Westerners’ understanding of religion, sex, and power. The Christian Church led this charge, simultaneously adopting, transforming, and harnessing ‘pagan’ (that is, non-Christian) ideas of merpeople in an effort to denigrate the feminine and, in turn, bring as many followers to Christ as possible” (Scribner, page 29). Guillaume le Clerc de Normandie’s “The Bestiaire Divin” describes mermaids as enticing and seductive, frequently luring sailors to their doom with mesmerizing songs. This portrayal of temptation and sin emphasizes the appeal of worldly pleasures and the perils of deviating from the path of righteousness, reflecting the Church’s teaching on these topics. Guillaume le Clerc emphasizes the Church’s teachings on the significance of restraining oneself from immoral cravings and holding fast to one’s faith by employing mermaids as symbols of temptation.

Furthermore, mermaids’ appeal goes beyond their physical attractiveness; they also symbolize the temptation to put worldly wants ahead of spiritual aspirations. The sailors’ readiness to forgo their responsibilities and follow the mermaids is a metaphor for how easily humans are seduced and how difficult it is to fight against immoral impulses. This topic reminds readers of the value of spiritual alertness in the face of temptation and is consistent with Church teachings on the sinful nature of worldly pleasures.

Scribner goes on to say, “The Church’s efforts were almost too effective. As more followers interpreted Christian Church leaders’ message as creed during the Middle Ages, they also increasingly understood the Church’s carefully cultivated collection of merimagery as proof of the legitimacy of merpeople’s existence, not to mention the dangers of the feminine flesh” (Scribner, page 29). As depicted in “The Bestiaire Divin,” mermaids stand for the significance of moral awareness and spiritual redemption; the sailors who resist the allure of mermaids are rewarded with safe passage, while those who give in to temptation meet a tragic fate. The Church places a strong emphasis on living a moral life and resisting temptation, and this illustration serves to prove this. As a result, the mermaids thus serve as guardians of moral order, by embodying the Church’s teachings about the importance of abstaining from sin and abiding by divine rule. 

Additionally, the idea of moral vigilance is emphasized by the mermaids’ duty as defenders of moral order. People need to be cautious and unwavering in their devotion to moral beliefs when faced with temptation. The repercussions of giving in to temptation, as portrayed in mermaid art in the Church, serve as a sobering reminder of the value of moral strength in the quest for spiritual redemption. 

Scribner as well,  notes that the church had an influence on his writing’s use of mermaid imagery by stating, “The Church created our modern understanding of mermaids and mermen in addition to nurturing popular belief in these mysterious hybrids. Ultimately, the Church’s adoption of mermaids and tritons not only demonstrates its willingness to hybridize itself in a bid for relevance but reveals churchmen’s ongoing efforts at using myth and wonder to assert the Christian creed” (Scribner, page 29). The Church was able to make its teachings accessible and interesting by incorporating mermaid imagery into Christian doctrine. By utilizing well-known mythological creatures to impart moral precepts, the Church increased public accessibility to its teachings and strengthened its hold over medieval society. The incorporation of folklore into Christian doctrine is a reflection of the Church’s attempts to remain authoritative and relevant in the face of shifting cultural environments.

According to Vaughn Scribner,  “Looking at these ancient interpretations of female sea monsters, one has to wonder how – and why, for that matter – the early Christian Church adopted such hideous beasts in its holy spaces. How could such monstrosities fit into the Christian narrative of salvation, and why would an entity that prided itself on improvement and civilization want to associate with such supposedly savage, pagan creatures? The answer rested with the hybridity of these strange monsters” (Scribner, page 31). Vaughn Scribner’s examination of ancient interpretations of sea monsters raises intriguing questions about the early Christian Church’s adoption of such creatures into its religious imagery. He questions how and why the Church allowed these seemingly pagan and monstrous creatures into its hallowed halls. Thus, we investigate the connection between Christian theology and the inclusion of creatures like mermaids in Christian iconography as a result of this curiosity. Understanding “hybridity” is essential to comprehending this phenomena. According to Scribner, the Church’s acceptance of sea monsters was greatly influenced by their hybrid nature; the early Christian Church used mermaids as hybrid beings to spread its message to a wider audience, much as ancient peoples customized them for their own needs. Through this hybridization, the Church was able to unite disparate cultural and religious traditions, increasing the relevance and accessibility of Christianity for a wide range of people.

The way that mermaids have evolved from being icons of paganism to being contemporary symbols of sex, religion, and authority is an example of how religious symbolism is always changing. According to Scribner’s research, mermaids have evolved into intricate symbols with numerous meanings in addition to being representations of seduction and danger.  This development shows how religious imagery may change with time and adapt to reflect shifting society attitudes and ideals, as Guillaume le Clerc de Normandie’s illustrates in the “The Bestiaire Divin”.

Moreover, Scribner’s reference to early Christian associations with fish symbolism, “Roman Christians utilized the symbol of the fish as a marker of their religious affiliation – still today visitors to the Roman catacombs will come across carved fishes scattered throughout those close tunnels,” provides context for the acceptance of mermaid imagery within Christianity (Scribner, page 32). The use of fish symbols as indicators of religious affiliation opened the door for the Christian iconography to incorporate additional aquatic imagery, such as mermaids. The relationship between Christianity and the sea was further cemented by tales like Jonah and the Whale and Noah’s Ark, which increased the plausibility of mermaids appearing in religious literature and art.

In conclusion, Guillaume le Clerc de Normandie uses mermaids as an allegory in “The Bestiaire Divin” to convey spiritual and moral teachings. The narrative mirrors the teachings of the medieval Church on redemption and holiness by using mermaids as symbols of immoral temptations and the significance of moral vigilance. In addition, the blending of church doctrine with folklore draws attention to the complex interplay between religion and social mores in the Middle Ages, highlighting the Church’s lasting impact on medieval ideas and culture. The mermaids in “The Bestiaire Divin” are more than just mythical beings; they symbolize the conflict between redemption and temptation and serve as a helpful reminder to viewers of the value of perseverance in the face of difficulty. The way that myth and doctrine interact, highlights the complexity of medieval civilization, in which religious beliefs influenced every part of life, including literature and the arts.

Works Cited 

Bedworth, C. (2023, November 30). Siren song: History of mermaids in art. DailyArt Magazine. https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/mermaids-in-art/ 

SCRIBNER, V. (2024). MERPEOPLE: A human history. REAKTION BOOKS. 

The poem “We are Mermaids”, by Stephanie Burt, offers us insight into how the matter of our worth changes when we reevaluate our impact and life choices outside of a terracentric lens. Terracentrism inherently associates worth and status with ownership and visibility, whereas an Ocean-centric view of measuring our worth functions to circumvent the idea of social permanence, as the water is ever moving and fluctuating. The line, “you don’t have to be use- / ful. You are not required / to come up with something to say.”, alleviates the ingrained societal pressure that to be affirmed or seen, you need to provide some sort of profitable contribution. A terracentric view of life argues that simply existing is not only not enough, but actually leaves a net negative impact on the society around you, because you are taking up space, land, and resources. By stepping out of this rigid, constructed reality, and instead looking to the flow state by which the ocean progresses, we can dissociate from the imaginary demands terracentrism places on our worth and feel worthy just being. The poem moves ahead to communicate that even a life spent “benthic or brackish” inherently has worth, as it is still a life of exploration, of persistence. This challenges the terracentric idea that a meaningful life is weighed by the mass you can claim. The land determines your worth by how much of it you own, but the ocean allows you to own your worth alone––as nothing can be owned in the Ocean, since nothing changed in the Ocean stays.