Posted on May 9, 2024 by Naomi Mireles

Naomi Mireles

Professor Pressman

ECL 305

May 9, 2024

Ocean-Centric Maternal Identities

The Deep by Rivers Solomon is a thought-provoking fiction novel published in 2019. Drawing inspiration from the song of the same name by the group Clipping, Solomon crafts a novel that explores the lives of the Wajinru, descendants of African slave women thrown overboard during the Middle Passage, who then adapted to living underwater as Mermaids. The Deep presents a transformative narrative that illuminates and challenges Western, terra-centric paradigms of motherhood by incorporating a diverse array of maternal identities, including the Ocean itself, whales, and pivotal characters like Amaba and Yetu. Through this rich combination of maternal figures, the novel challenges narrow perceptions of motherhood as exclusively human or tied to terrestrial realms.

The novel follows the Historian of the wajinru: Yetu who holds the memories of her ancestors for her community. Yetu embodies a profound form of motherhood as the keeper of memories for the wajinru. Yetu carries the collective history of both joys and sorrows of all the people before her. Yetu ensures that these memories are never forgotten, while her role also serves as a connection between past and present as she holds the heritage of her people. Maternal love manifests in Yetu’s deep empathy for the wajinru, specifically in her decision to return and save her people from the overwhelming burden of their memories. As the keeper of the memories, she intimately understands the pain that comes with carrying these memories. “The wajinru were her people, and for now they were held captive by the History, living lives of the ancestors from beginning to end.” (Solomon, 39). Yetus’s act of returning to her people showcases her deep sense of responsibility and love, as she prioritizes the health of herself and her people as a collective. Her selfless actions exemplify a form of maternal care, as she momentarily shoulders the weight of the memories, and in turn, the memories are shared as a collective, challenging the terra-centric idea that maternity is synonymous with sacrifice without personal gain, “They were two, Historian and her subjects. It was time for the two to be merged.” (Solomon, 148). In Western narratives, motherhood is often depicted as a selfless act of giving, with no emphasis on agency or empowerment. However, Yetus’s journey subverts this notion by showcasing that after all she endured while being the Historian, she gained something much greater, her own identity and personal growth. Rather than perpetuating the idea that benefits after sacrifice is one-sided, the narrative challenges the terracentric idea that motherhood, while encompassing sacrifice can also be a source of personal fulfillment, growth, and empowerment.

The Ocean serves as a central maternal figure in The Deep, though not explicitly mentioned until the end of the novel, “ In this remembering, there is a lone wajinru pup floating, alive and content. It was the ocean who was their first Amaba,” (Solomon, 149). Solomon highlights the Oceans nurturing role as the first Amaba for the pup, which emphasizes that maternal care and protection can transcend human boundaries. The pup floating happily in the Ocean’s embrace presents a deep sense of security, belonging, and nurturance, one that is not seen in Western perceptions of the Ocean. The wajinru people, being born to African slave women thrown overboard, were born to dead mothers, the society and culture of the wajinru shifted so that anyone and anything could be their mother and share a deep sense of caring and joy for one another. Before the eighteenth century, if the perspective of the Ocean as a safe place of comfort and nurture was mentioned, it would have been surprising and disagreeable news. But, the Ocean was and had always been a constant for the wajinru, a place of safety and care, the way one misses a mother, Yetu often missed the deep Ocean when in the shallow water with the two legs, “..coveting the deep sea, its blanket of cold and dark.” (Solomon,71). The idea of the Ocean’s cold and darkness being comforting is a newer perspective, and one not seen too often in Western depictions of the Ocean. As seen in John Gillis’ The Blue Humanities, published in 2013, “The sea was portrayed as dangerous and repellant, ugly and unfit for literary or artistic representation.” (The Blue Humanities, n.d.). The lack of difference between the womb and the Ocean is shown throughout the novel, “..there is very little difference between a bornt pup and one still encased in the womb.” (Solomon, 150). The emphasis on this idea, that the womb and the Ocean are the same, breaks the barrier that the womb is strictly tied to individual human birth. The Ocean taught the wajinru how to breathe, and how to survive, the portrayal of the Ocean as mother serves as a reminder of the wajinrus interconnectedness of all life forms and shows why they share this idea of collectivity and community. The Ocean does not go through painful transformations or sacrifices to nurture the pups, nor does it struggle or lose anything by doing so. Terracentric views (and I must admit my own) on motherhood, tend to believe the idea that motherhood comes with the pain of losing a past self, and the struggle to become someone new. The Ocean remains the same before and after birthing and raising the wajinru, not having to lose their identity while being a mother, it remains constant regardless. Focusing on the Ocean as a mother challenges key factors seen in terracentric views on motherhood while simultaneously showing that motherhood can look different in different cultures, races, and ethnicities.

Aside from the Ocean and Yetu as a mother, The Deep holds significance as it challenges anthropocentric ideologies by acknowledging maternal qualities inherent in non-human entities, in this case, whales. Whales are more than just marine creatures but as nurturing, protective, and essential maternal figures within the wajinru community, “We live only by the graciousness of the second mothers, the giant water beats… who feed us, bond with us and drag us down to the deepest depths were we are safe.” (Solomon 42). Whales are seen as, “second mothers,” which carries layers of meaning, considering that their first mothers died tragically. The first mother’s physical presence was lost to the Ocean, but the spirit and resilience live on through the wajinru and their connection to the whales. In Western perspectives, motherhood is equated with biological mother-child relationships that emphasize genetics and reproduction. The connection with whales as the mother goes beyond biological ties. The idea that whales nurture and protect not through genetic connection but through emotional bonds, guidance, and communal care. The whales in their guidance challenge the idea that motherhood is only defined by genetic lineage. Whales mother as a community, in contrast to Western views that motherhood is individualistic, the wajinru have an array of mothers and share a communal approach to maternity.

Yetu and Amaba share a complex relationship characterized by an interplay of love, and tension. Their initial bond is displayed with a lack of understanding while they navigate their roles within the wajinru community. They constantly find themselves at odds because of their differing perspectives and experiences. When Yetu returns to the deep, their relationship is shifted as Yetu is determined to save Amaba. There is Yetu’s willingness to challenge roles of dependence and protection, where mothers are seen as the central roles of protectors and saviors. Amaba’s response reflects her shift in perspective and a recognition of Yetu’s strength that she had before undermined or overlooked. Amaba stands by Yetu and reassures her that this is not something she can do alone, “I would sooner die than let you suffer this alone.” (Solomon, 147). After having lived through the rememberings, Amaba is now more understanding than ever of all her daughter endured. Rather than a one-sided dynamic of protection and sacrifice, this mother-daughter relationship evolves to showcase mutual support and understanding. They share their burdens and sorrows, challenging the notion that mothers must bear the weight of caregiving alone. Rivers Solomon’s The Deep presents an exploration of motherhood that challenges traditional Western paradigms and anthropocentric ideologies. Through the several identities of the Ocean, whales, Amaba, and Yetu, the novel illuminates a transformative perspective that expands our understanding of maternal roles beyond terracentric customs. The Deep contradicts that motherhood is solely defined by sacrifice, pain, and genetic ties. It does so by recognizing the diversity and complexity of maternal experiences. The Ocean as the first mother, showcases a nurturing role that transcends human boundaries while also contradicting the Western perspective of the Ocean as devoid and dangerous. Yetu’s role as Historian embodies a deep form of motherhood that pushes the idea that maternity is not synonymous with sacrifice without personal gain. The significance of whales as maternal figures allows us to recognize maternal qualities in nonhuman entities. Motherhood is much more than biological ties, motherhood transcends a multitude of human standards to encompass a complex web of emotions and connection. Motherhood is not just pain, guilt, trauma, and sacrifice as seen in a terracentric human perspective. Motherhood is a multifaceted experience that encompasses love, resilience, and a shared journey of mutually shaping and guiding each other’s lives and futures.

Citations

Solomon, R., Diggs, D., Hutson, W., & Snipes, J. (2019). The deep. Hachette UK.

The Blue Humanities. (n.d.). The National Endowment for the Humanities. https://www.neh.gov/humanities/2013/mayjune/feature/the-blue-humanities

Human Sadness due to a Loss of Identity Through Tradition

Posted on May 9, 2024 by Rigo De Leon

Rigo De Leon

Professor Pressman

ECL 305

April 7, 2024

Human Sadness

The Voidz are an American band comprised of six members: Julian Casablancas (vocals), Beardo (lead guitar), Amir Yaghmai (lead guitar), Jake Bercovichi (bass/keys), Alex Carapetis (drums), and Jeff Kite (keys). They are known for their experimental and long songs, which they’ve created with the expectation that their music will be appreciated far into the future. The song that prompted the creation of the band is the first single off their first album called “Tyranny”. The song is called “Human Sadness”, which was released in 2014. It was originally going to be released as a solo project for Julian Casablancas, but he enlisted the help of the band he toured with to make the song greater. Their love for the song they created inspired them to create an album. The name “The Voidz” was picked because the effects that they primarily used for their music sounded like what they believed a black hole, or void, would sound like. Both Julian Casablancas and Stephanie Burt challenge the idea of cultural and societal traditions by prompting readers/listeners to consider how and why we conform to societal norms as a result of trying to survive in the culture we have inherited, and how that affects personal identity and the need to be useful. Julian Casablancas uses metaphors and symbolism in the song “Human Sadness”, as well as vivid sounds throughout the song to emphasize the experiences that traditions have created in order to make people question how they conform. Stephanie Burt, on the other hand, uses contemporary poetry, specifically the second and sixth stanza of her poem “We Are Mermaids” to portray that people do not need to be useful to survive.

Throughout the song, “Human Sadness” simplifies basic concepts that are normal in everyday life, but in a way that truly shows the struggle of external pressures conflicting with personal identity. For example, the song begins with the singer whispering the line “Put money in my hand, and I will do the things you want me to” (Casablancas 1). The way Casablancas presents this line is almost degrading. He is willing to sacrifice his own morality and time for the sake of receiving currency that will help sustain him in the society that he was born into. Assuming he has enough to sustain himself, this line could also be seen as an example of blatant greed. Sacrificing morality still applies, yet this time it’s for the sake of wanting more than needed. Casablancas implies that the separation of the natural world has only caused people to be dehumanized. In the natural world, actions are not governed by monetary values. Casablancas’ implication of dehumanization is complimented by Stephanie Burt’s use of mermaids in her poem. Burt writes, “when what would become, us was just trying to get through the day” (Burt 2). Societal norms have conditioned humans to live in routines that can feel meaningless. Wake up, go to work, run errands, go home, sleep, repeat. While there can be variation, society has developed in a way that prioritizes order over individuality and identity. People are expected to be useful and are unable to just exist.

Casablancas uses his desire of existential freedom throughout the song further his criticism of societal norms. A reoccuring line throughout the song is “Beyond all ideas of right and wrong, there is a field. I will be meeting you there” (Casablancas 3). This line is an altered version of a quote by the philosopher known as Rumi, who believed that the soul should be nurtured in order to live a happy life. Casablancas wishes to transcend beyond the concepts of good and bad that society has trained people to conform to, and reconnect with nature. Artificial constructs such as right and wrong are ideas that put pressure on people to be useful. The field itself can be seen as symbolism, a representation of the natural world, a place untouched by humanity. A field is a natural part of the world that just exists. Therefore, there can be no right or wrong, a field is a place where anything can just be. The field that Casablancas wishes to visit is a place where people can choose to have an identity however they would like, or it can be a place where people just exist. Stephanie Burt’s poem touches on a similar idea, by having mermaids be the main focus. Mermaids are creatures that are forced to exist between the ocean and land. The ocean represents the natural world, while land represents living among a society that follows traditions. Burt’s ideas add depth to Casablancas’ ideas in the way that Burt is a lot more realistic and blatant with her message. By analyzing “We Are Mermaids” before “Human Sadness”, you get a much more literal sense of what Casablancas intends to portray about identity and traditions. The Voidz’s song can be interpreted to be about corruption within the system that has been established, but with the frame of Stephanie Burt’s poem, it grounds the song by helping observers interpret the lyrics and music about human fundamentals.

Throughout the song, symbolism is used in order to further the message about societal traditions consuming the identities of people. A notable use of symbolism in “Human Sadness” is in the fourth verse, where Casablancas states “The moon’s a skull, I think it’s grinnin’” (Casablancas 4). This symbolism can have many different meanings, but in the sense of identity and societal norms, it can be interpreted as a reflection of mortality. Skulls are symbols of death. They are a reminder of the fate that all of humanity shares. The personification of the skull that is grinning gives it a sinister twist. A grinning skull could almost be a form of mockery, as the moon that hangs over the entire world every night is not only a reminder of death, but also a reminder that people are wasting their precious time by blindly following along with the traditions they’ve inherited. This idea is built upon by Stephanie Burt’s use of symbolism through mermaids. Mermaids are symbols of duality. They are half human and half fish. It is hard for mermaids to exist on land without there being trouble that prevents them from being authentic. The only true safe place for mermaids is in the ocean, which reflects Casablancas idea about the only safe place where humans can be their authentic selves is in a field beyond right and wrong. Another key use of symbolism that relates to authenticity in “Human Sadness” is the use of the word “tie” later in the same verse. Casablancas sings “And I don’t need your tie, I don’t need to, tired of saying it” (Casablancas 4). Much later in the song he also sings “Hits you on the head when nobody’s there, Then he says, ‘Come here, can you fix my tie?’” (Casablancas 10). The use of the word “tie” adds to the concept of identity in multiple different ways. For one, a tie is a direct connection to societal norms that have been created by our ancestors. Ties are professional attire, things that need to be worn when proving worthiness to traditions. They are worn at job interviews, weddings, courtrooms, and any other place that may need to be seen as professional. Casablancas directly rejects the tie in his first use of the word. He even mentions that he is tired of saying he doesn’t want it. The tie not only takes away from his ability to be himself, but wearing it is also a submission to the constructs he desires to escape. In his second use of the word, he uses it as a quote within the song itself of one person asking another to fix his tie. To fix another person’s tie is an intimate thing, usually done by fathers to sons. This could be an anecdote to fathers passing down the system that has plagued people to conform to it. This brilliant use of the tie alone can summarize the problems that traditions create against identity. By observing the song this way, people can reflect on whether or not they are okay with living without a sense of personal identity.

One aspect about “Human Sadness” that is important to consider when analyzing the song is the actual music itself. The band samples Mozart’s “Requiem in D Minor”, which is a song that was written during the late 18th century. It is fascinating to think that a song about breaking traditions is sampling a song that was written during the early stages of the civilization that has been built to tear down individuality. It provides a sense of irony to Casablancas’ message but also goes to show how hard it is to actually break free from the societal norms we have built. One key difference that can be obtained by listening to the song rather than just reading it is the breakdown at the bridge. There is a guitar solo that begins exactly at the 7 minute mark. The Voidz has two lead guitarists rather than a lead guitarist and a rhythm guitarist, which is what is normal in bands. The bridge has both guitars play conflicting melodies at the same time, and it can almost be interpreted as if the guitars themselves are having a conversation. Because the guitars align with the melody of Casablancas’ singing, it can be inferred that the solo is actually a “conversation” between both lead guitars. Perhaps the guitars are pleading to break away from the social norms and traditions that people face, but without actual words it is almost like the pleading is hopeless because it is unable to be understood. Observing the music adds to Casablancas’ message significantly as it amplifies how hopeless it can feel to think this way but have no solution at all.

Casablancas presents a double meaning later in the song in which readers can interpret the same sentence in polar opposite ways. He states “Soft skin, weak chin, Just walk me through it, tell me what to do, I’ll do it, Hurry, hurry, that my baby, do what you can” (Casablancas 10). Casablancas uses “soft skin” and “weak chin” to display the innocence and wonder of his newborn child. By asking to be told what to do and promising that he will do it, it can be interpreted in two ways. Either Casablancas is asking how to change the system in order for his child to grow up in a better situation than he did, or he is a brainwashed version of himself asking how to make sure the baby conforms the way he did. If it is the former option, it can be furthered by the following line where he asks whoever he is speaking with to do what they can for his child. Considering this line happens near the climax of the song, it can be a line of hope that is offered in order to leave the audience with hope that there can be a solution to the problem of conforming to societal norms by sacrificing identity. Judging by the title of the song, it is likely the ladder option. Casablancas is asking whoever he is speaking to to do what they can and teach him how to raise the baby in a way where they will fit in with the rest of society. Regardless of the meaning, these lines provide similar outcomes for the listener. They either feel a glimmer of hope that they can break free from the system if they question it the way Casablancas implies he is doing, or they see Casablancas conforming in the end and see it as a cautionary tale that should be worked towards being avoided. Burt has a similar line at the end of her poem, where she states, “Some of us are going to be okay” (Burt 10). By stating that specifically some people are going to be okay but not necessarily stating who, readers are likely to question it deeper in order to find out if they themselves will be okay. Lines like these are sometimes vital to literature as they provide much deeper thought that is triggered by a semi-selfish form of thinking.

Overall, “Human Sadness” is a song that pushes people to question the state of living they are in. The song can be analyzed in multiple different ways, but when reading with a certain frame in mind, people can find meaning that they never would have thought to look for. By reading this with Stephanie Burt’s poem “We Are Mermaids” as a frame, dissecting the idea that Casablancas and Burt emphasize the experiences that traditions have created in order to make people question how they conform. People do not need to be useful, and should celebrate having their own identity. Just because this world and its systems were inherited, it does not mean change cannot occur. By analyzing “Human Sadness” and “We Are Mermaids”, people can question for themselves whether or not they are okay living the way they are, and potentially changing the norms and traditions as they see fit.

Final Essay: Western World Separation From Nature

Posted on May 9, 2024 by River Mccaughey

River McCaughey

Professor Jessica Pressman

ECL 305

9 May, 2024

Melusine (Pages 11 &12) and “Natives of Yosemite”

In this essay, I will be exploring the connection between the fictional story Melusine and a silent film called “Natives of Yosemite.” Melusine is a story Written originally in the 14th century by French author Jean d’Arras and adapted by Andre Lebey in the 19th century. The story itself isn’t what I’m interested in; I will be examining pages 11 and 12, which Lebey uses to describe the setting for the story, a place he romanticizes for its closeness to nature. “Natives of Yosemite” is a 17 minute short film published by the National Park Service, published in the early 20th century. The black and white film describes and depicts the trees, wildlife, and indigenous people in Yosemite National Park. It serves as an advertisement for the park and the wonders seen within. It is relevant to consider that both works were published during the Industrial Revolution. During this time, many people moved to cities as farming required less hands to support large populations. Jobs shifted from small scale agricultural work to large scale factories. The development of capitalism was in full swing, and people moved to dense cities far from nature. Although they do it in different ways, both texts display a similar theme. Andre Lebey employs imagery of nature to display the juxtaposition between Feudal and Industrial Europe and invites readers to consider how Feudal Europe sprouted The Western World’s eventual disconnect from the natural environment. Likewise, the “Natives of Yosemite” short film unintentionally conveys that The Western World has further separated itself from nature by romanticizing and commodifying the concept of The Great Outdoors, through imagery of Yosemite National Park.

Lebey describes the village as people who “lived close to nature in those days, even in towns” (Lebey 11). Here, Lebey is deliberately describing the scene as something different from the way the world he lives in now. This suggests that the way of life in towns during his time in the Industrial Revolution is no longer close to nature. The rise of large-scale industries and urban centers could have led people to become more removed from direct dependence on and proximity to nature. This early in the story, it’s difficult to say whether he is reminiscing in some way on how he wishes it could have stayed, or if Lebey is glad that the world doesn’t have to struggle against the forces of nature as it did in the 14th century. Lebey also refers to the hunter as “legendary”, which suggests that the people of his time praise hunters. During the 14th century, hunters were much more common as a way to get food. By the time Lebey wrote his adaptation of Melusine, the world had already shifted away from the hunter as a way to get food. Agriculture was the main source of food and hunting was transitioning into a sport. Shortly after, Lebey describes the forest as “menacing and dangerous, full of the unknown, concealing the surprising and unnatural” (Lebey 11). By suggesting that the nature surrounding the village is dark and scary, Lebey conveys that the villagers see the natural environment outside the walled society as fearful. With the description of the village as having fields “right up to the walls” (Lebey 11) readers can conclude that there is already some disconnect from the natural world through physical man-made separation. The fear of nature combined with the resources to separate nature from man is what Lebey argues caused society to isolate itself from the natural environment.

On the next page, Lebey begins to elaborate on this juxtaposition between the industrial world that he lives in and that of the 14th century. After discussing the feared creatures of the forest, Lebey points out that “evil reigned only if heroes failed to confront its dangers” (Lebey 12). This is where readers first see his inclination to present nature as a place that needs to be visited. He goes on to say, “Humans do not show their mettle if left to themselves” (Lebey 12). Here, Lebey is explicitly revealing that humans are not as resilient if they do not confront the dangers of nature. Lebey next gives an example of a haw that holds the “Code of Love.” Lebey is suggesting that if humans do not have contact with nature, then they will not only be left without resilience, but they will be unknowing about the secrets of the world. In this part of the chapter, readers have displayed the possibility that there is a purpose for the human connection to nature.

Shortly after in the story, it becomes clear that Lebey is reminiscing on the way that the past may have been before the Industrial Revolution. Through the imagery of nature, Lebey explains how “Man developed without dissociating or abstracting himself from the world” (Lebey 12). This suggests that humans before the Industrial Revolution existed in a state of connection with the natural world. The implication is that the Industrial Revolution caused a disconnect between humans and nature. He also reinforces the point that man is further from nature by juxtaposing the hunting back then as “so different from our own, more justifiable because more difficult and necessary” (Lebey 12). By contrasting hunting in the 14th century to hunting of his time, Lebey suggests there is no need for hunting anymore, and there isn’t any reason to do it with the development of inventions like the seed drill. Lebey continuously uses imagery of nature to romanticize it in a way that calls for readers to see that the way life is in cities away from nature is not in fact better for society.

“Natives of Yosemite” starts by boasting about the Giant Sequoia trees in Yosemite National Park. After showing a young woman marveling at one of the massive trees, the film cuts to a dialogue card that states, “Here flourish the oldest living things – giant Sequoia trees” (NPS 0:58). By displaying the trees in Yosemite as something divine and unique, the film romanticizes the wilderness. Soon after, the film depicts the road that “runs straight through the famous Wawona Tree” (NPS 1:45). Viewers can see a massive tree with a tunnel carved out in the middle so that tourists can drive straight through. Contrary to the literal tree being closer to the people and their car, the commodification of the natural world is what separates man from nature. By advertising the wilderness and commodifying it, humans are separating themselves further from the natural world. The film then shows a tree cookie that depicts the rings for how old the tree is. The tree shown is over 1,000 years old. This obsession with the extremes of nature is what causes people to disconnect from it. About halfway through the short, a dialogue card is seen that says, “Rushing silvery waters, cascading down the mountainsides, border many of the alluring trails” (NPS 9:10). The important word here is “border.” By implying that there is a physical barrier between the tourists on the trail and the wonders of nature, the NPS is displaying a literal disconnect that they engineered by creating a trail. There is nothing natural about guiding tourists through designated trails built by humans.

At the end of the film, the NPS describes how “friendly Yosemite Indians entertain with tribal songs and dances” (NPS 16:00). Viewers can see Native Americans dancing in front of an audience of white tourists. Here, the National Park Service entirely separates the Native Americans from the white people by placing them in the same field as the trees and bears in the beginning of the video. Both the trees and the Native Americans are there to entertain the American tourists. By doing so, not only is nature separated from Western culture, but those who do not live by Western standards. Additionally, the Native Americans are being commodified, which divides them even further from the tourists. More importantly, this pristine natural world that the National Park Service sells doesn’t exist. By removing indigenous people, creating trails, and altering the landscape, the National Park Service is inventing a “nature” that doesn’t exist in the real world.

Through his imagery of nature, Lebey conveys to readers of the Industrial Revolution that life before humanity was separated from nature was better than it is now. He juxtaposes the lifestyles with the historical context of the lifestyle of his industrial world. The romanticization of nature and the secrets it may hold are how Lebey draws his audience to realize how integration with nature is important for humanity. While Lebey purposefully conveys that The Western World is separating from nature, the National Park Service romanticizes the wilderness, which accentuates this separation. By commodifying the plants, animals, and even the indigenous people in the park, the National Park Service is engineering a faux natural world.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFWQjZIQPec NPS

Final

Posted on May 9, 2024 by Michael Haley

OANNES-1 Download

Hello everyone,

For my final assignment, I wrote a short story inspired by the numerous readings we explored this semester, which primarily focused on environmental ethics and the human-nature relationship. My story, “Finding Oannes,” was mainly inspired by the following quote from William Cronom’s “The Trouble with the Wilderness,” a text that critically examines the concept of wilderness and its implications for our culture’s relationship with the nonhuman world.

“we mistake ourselves when we suppose that wilderness can solve our culture’s problematic relationships with the nonhuman world, for wilderness is no small part of the problem.”

The idea of “the wild” being a man-made concept really opened my eyes to the bleak reality that everything humanity touches MUST produce some sort of monetary value. This realization has deeply impacted my understanding of our role in the world, and I came to the conclusion that we, as human beings, have become an invasive species. It made me question the value we place on nature and the extent to which we exploit it for our own gain.

This realization didn’t shatter my world or anything like that; I still enjoy camping and hiking with friends. There is still plenty of pleasure to be had in these types of activities, and by no means am I suggesting we should abandon our attachments to the concept of nature – but one thing needs to be made clear: human order does not belong in the natural world.

The concept of ‘the wild’ and its implications have been a recurring theme throughout the semester, and I’ve grappled with articulating my insights accurately. This struggle continues, but ‘Finding Oannes’ has provided a fantastic platform for me to delve deeper into this complex and thought-provoking topic.

Thank you all for such a wonderful semester!

In “Finding Oannes,” I investigate human ambition, exploration, myth, truth, and the effects of these endeavors on nature. The story begins with a detailed description of a world where human civilization has reached a point of stasis on land, with all available resources methodically mapped out and used. This creates the conditions for the formation of a desire for adventure and wonder, prompting humanity to look to the undiscovered depths of the ocean. On this last frontier, the spirit of exploration still appears to be alive. The story also delves into the ethical implications of human exploration and the potential consequences for the natural world.

The majestic vessel Oannes is central to the plot, depicted as a marvel of ivory and gold that represents human intellect and the peak of marine exploration. The protagonist, Captain Jonathan Glanton, exemplifies the spirit of discovery and intellectual quest, similar to legendary heroes such as Einstein and Galileo. Glanton’s thorough research and documentation of the ocean’s contents illustrate the pursuit of knowledge and the desire to discover hidden truths about our planet. His character also serves as a reflection of the human ambition and curiosity that drives our exploration of the natural world.

I made an attempt to make the narrator untrustworthy because he is too enamored with the ship and its captain to realize how their exploitation of the sea could be detrimental. Making the ship out of ivory and gold was intended to reflect both the beauty of seeking an understanding of the natural world and the aggressive attitude with which we shape the natural world to work in ways we can comprehend and profit from. The Captain’s name, John Glanton, is a reference to the same-named infamous person from the old American West – best known for his merciless exploits as a scalp hunter during battles in the American West, representing a darker side of human desire and conquest.

The story takes a poignant turn when the protagonist discovers Oannes, fifteen years after its departure, sunken on the ocean floor. This finding, combined with the tragic destiny of a mermaid crushed beneath the ship, provides a compelling metaphor for the repercussions of human ambition. The mermaid, once a symbol of mythological wonder, now represents the neglected and shattered portions of nature that we ignore in our never-ending search for knowledge and advancement.

The image of the mermaid trapped beneath Oannes provokes a mixture of awe and grief, emphasizing the fragile balance between human enterprise and its unintended effects on the natural world. The author’s undersea picture delivers a profound contemplation on the beauty and sorrow that come with our pursuit of enlightenment.

The narrative’s complexity is found in its investigation of human ambition and its consequences on nature and in its depiction of the interaction of myth and reality. The mermaid, a mythological creature, becomes a palpable emblem of the hidden costs of exploration, encouraging readers to consider the impact of their actions on the environment.

To summarize, “Finding Oannes” is a thought-provoking investigation of human ambition, exploration, myth, reality, and their effects on nature. The story goes into the depths of human curiosity and the drive for knowledge, pitted against the potential consequences of our persistent pursuit of discovery. The terrible fate of the mermaid beneath Oannes serves as a devastating metaphor for the natural qualities that we neglect and destroy on our voyage of exploration. Finally, the story encourages readers to explore the difficult balance between human advancement and environmental stewardship, demanding a deeper examination of the ethical consequences of our acts in the pursuit of enlightenment.

Final Essay

Posted on May 9, 2024 by Sophia Raya

Sophia Raya

ECL 305

Professor Pressman

May 9th, 2024

The Verticality of the Little Mermaid

In The Little Mermaid (1837), written by Hans Christain Andersen, the high and low design of the story’s landscape maps onto the vertical ascension of Christianity associated with hell, earth, and heaven. Each ascension correlates to its respective vertical plane and leads the mermaid closer to a heavenly life. The little mermaid first appears within the ocean, a place located furthest away from the heavens which she seeks. As she moves upwards and makes her way onto land, she gains legs and can move through the realm of humanity where both God and earthly desires reside. By sacrificing her life, the little mermaid’s body transforms into an air spirit and resides in the aerial plane where she has the possibility of entering heaven in 300 years. This transition from plane to plane involves sacrifice and encompasses the Christian tenet that the body may die but the soul lives on. Within the frame of Christianity and the religious sentiments of the little mermaid, sacrificing one’s own life in the name of a higher power is noble, and elevates your position in the spiritual world.

In The Little Mermaid, the setting of ocean sets the story up for the vertical journey that the little mermaid is about to embark on. The kingdom is far out at sea and located at an unimaginable depth, where not even a rope could fathom it; and many church steeples need to be piled on top of each other to breach the surface (Andersen 108). The exclusion of rope as a unit of measurement is deliberate. Rope is a common tool used by sea farers and others who regularly traverse the ocean. Church steeples, on the other hand, are not commonly found within the ocean but instead are largely found on land. This addition of steeples reinforces verticality within the narrative as they are located on top of a church’s physical foundation, and serve as a focal point for the gaze of a worshipper. Their height fills the viewer with a sense of awe towards the Church as a religious institution and as a source of spiritual power. By placing these steeples beneath the waves, the texts illuminates the spiritual defiency of the ocean and by extension its inhabitants. The direction of the placement of these steeples also implies a direct upwards movement away from the ocean which weaves in the importance of verticality within the narrative. If these steeples had descended instead of ascended, this would have implied a movement away from the Church and mimicked a descent into hell.

Within Christian theology, hell is a place where God’s light does not reach and where souls go to die, which denies them a heavenly afterlife. Even though hell is never explicitly mentioned within the little mermaid, heaven as a place can only exist as a reward if there is a location that opposes it. On the vertical scale, hell is the lowest spiritual realm while earth and heaven are located directly above it. This also maps onto the vertical scale of the mermaid’s physical world with the ocean on the lowest level while the land and air are above it. Because the mermaid seeks a heavenly life, she needs to ascend onto land in order to fulfill this goal.

This change from the aquatic realm to the terrestrial realm also requires a change in form. Her tail, which distinctly marks her as a mermaid, would be viewed as demonic and unholy by the Church. In order to be accepted onto land, she would have to give up her tail and obtain two legs to fit into human society. This rejection of her initial form mimics the spiritual sacrifices that Christians must enagage in to enter the kingdom of heaven. Splitting her legs into a tail involves both a physical sacrifice and a cultural sacrifice, without a tail the little mermaid will never be able to fully inhabit the ocean and its realm. Before this can even occur, the little mermaid seeks out the sea witch for a spell to transform her into a human. Besides the physical splitting of her tail, the mermaid’s voice and tongue are physically cut out of her. In the essay, “The Merciless Tragedy of Desire: An Interpretation of H.C. Andersen’s “Den lille Havfrue’” by Jørgen Dines Johansen, Johansen points out that by cutting off the little mermaid’s tongue, she is unable to emotionally live through and act out inner conflicts (Johansen pg. 211). As soon as she cuts off her tongue, she cuts herself off from the rest of the mermaid and obtains the status of other despite her outwards appearance as a mermaid. Although she never runs into another mermaid who can categorize her as other, her body is in the midst of a change.

The little mermaid’s second act of bodily transformation occurs on the marble steps where the ocean and land meet. These steps help to connect these lower and higher levels to each other, bridging this vertical distance in an upward manner. By taking the potion on the marble steps after she crawls out of the water, she is separating herself from the oceanic and by extension the demonic realm. This second transformation continues to emphasizes the element of bodily sacrifice as the little mermaid felt as if a double-edged sword was run through her (Andersen pg. 123). The inclusion of a double edged sword emphasizes the physical duality of the little mermaid as her more human top half remains unaffected while her bottom more demonic half splits into human legs. This taxing physical agony that the little mermaid endures for a soul is also found within the bible. Philippians 1:29 states that in order to follow God, an individual is required to both believe in him and suffer on his behalf (Philippians 1:29, BibleHub). Although the little mermaid suffers physically from this transformation, she does not suffer emotionally nor spiritually. Instead, once she’s found by the prince, she bears this pain willingly and glides as she walks, making both the prince and others around her marvel at her gate (Andersen pg. 124). This bodily sacrifice isn’t just a one time feeling but instead it’s a constant reminder of what she has lost and what she stands to gain.

On the terrestrial plane, the little mermaid’s transformations continue to be an obstacle in her path towards a soul. Although the mermaid possess human legs instead of a tail, she is unable to verbalize her desires towards the prince and can only communicate through movement and facial expressions. When the little mermaid and the prince journey up the mountain, the pain that she experiences is physically seen by both the readers and other agents in the story by having her feet bleed (Andersen pg. 124). Despite this outward injury, she ignores the sensation and enters a physical space where she is high enough to reach the heavens but not holy enough to enter them. This physical space captures the crux of her current predicament: she longs for a soul but she experiences limitations that are imposed on her because of her initial sacrifice towards said soul. The pain that she experiences on a day to day basis from this transformation continues to serve as a test her desire for a soul through marriage.

When the prince marries the princess, her marriage pathway and her route towards directly obtaining a soul is lost. This leaves the little mermaid with two choices: either kill the prince and save herself or sacrifice herself and save the prince (Andersen pg. 129). Had the little mermaid decided to save herself, she would have been able to reverse her transformation and live out her natural lifespan as a mermaid. However, as a mermaid and therefore a non-human creature, she would have to descend from the terrestrial plane into the aquatic realm, sliding down on the vertical scale back into hell. However, the mermaid would arrive at the same fate if she sacrificed herself, but at a much quicker rate. Because of her love for the prince, she prioritizes his life over hers and throws herself overboard, her human body dissolving into foam and transforming for a third time (Andersen pg. 129). The little mermaid’s path follows the biblical verse of Mark 8:35 where whoever decides to save his life shall lose it, but whoever loses his life for Christ shall also save it (Mark 8:35, BibleHub). Even though her human body dies, her form develops into that of an air spirit because of her good deeds and sacrifices made in the name of obtaining an eternal soul. As an air spirit, the little mermaid’s form is no longer bound to the terrestrial plane and rises into the aerial realm, which mimics the upwards movement of a Christian soul after death. This transformation from human to air spirit also undoes her first sacrifice as she is able to speak in a sweet and ethereal voice after an extended period of muteness (Andersen pg. 129). This conveys a sort of mercy and reward from God because the little mermaid had a very real possibility of experiencing a permanent death from her actions, but was instead saved and spiritually elevated for the choices she made.

The Little Mermaid is a story where religious themes of biblical sacrifice and obtaining a soul bleeds into each section of the text including the topographical settings, which directly correlate to the vertical arrangement of hell, earth, and heaven. Each terrain that the mermaid resides in requires a sacrifice in the form of transformation in order to exit and enter another terrain. These sacrifices comes at the cost of her physical wellbeing which reinforces the biblical influence through the form of bodily sacrifice. Because of the stories overt religious themes, self-sacrifice and pain endured in the name of a religious power will be rewarded.

Works Cited

Andersen, Hans Christian. “The Little Mermaid.” The Penguin Book of Mermaids, edited by Christina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown, Penguin Books, 2019, pp 107-130.

“Colossians 3:2-4.” Bible.Com, www.bible.com/bible/114/COL.3.2-4.

Johansen, Jørgen Dines. “The Merciless Tragedy of Desire: An Interpretation of H.C. Andersen’s ‘Den Lille Havfrue.’” Scandinavian Studies, vol. 68, no. 2, 1996, pp. 203–41. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40919857. Accessed 14 Apr. 2024.

“Mark 8:35.” Bible.Com, www.bible.com/bible/1/MRK.8.35.KJV.

“Philippians 1:29.” BibleHub, biblehub.com/philippians/1-29.htm.

Final Essay

Posted on May 9, 2024 by Carina Virto

Carina Virto

ECL 305

Professor Pressman

09, May 2024

Finding Your Balance: History and Self Identity Combined

History is a collection of events that have already occurred, the present is the known, and the future is unknown; each of these ideologies rely on one another, without one there is not the other. The book The Deep, by River Soloman, presents a character named Yetu who is appointed the grand responsibility of maintaining and holding the entire history of her people. This responsibility poses a great threat to her own wellbeing; as it overcomes her, it becomes her losing her own sense of identity. In an attempt for self preservation, Yetu flees this responsibility and meets a two leg, meaning human, named Oori who contrasts Yetu in the way that Oori’s people are gone and with them her own sense of identity and feeling of belonging in the world. The novel The Deep presents the character contrast between Yetu and Oori to serve as a representation of the importance of balancing one’s’ history and ones’ present circumstances, emphasizing the preservation of self identity and safeguarding the continuation of ones’ culture for future generations.

When the novel opens, the reader meets Yetu moments after her attempted suicide, one of the first of many negative occurrences caused by all of the pain and suffering she had endured as the Historian. A Historian is a single, carefully selected, Wajinru whose sole purpose is to remember the entire history of their people. Wajinru are mermaid-like creatures who communicate with each other through sensory measures. This fact creates the idea that Wajinru are interconnected with their emotions on a physical level making the role of a Historian to be a physically and emotionally demanding role. This responsibility overcame Yetu on many levels, especially attacking her own wellbeing as the “rememberings were always drawing her backward into the ancestors’ memories—that was what they were supposed to do—but not at the expense of her life” (Soloman, 2). When a responsibility becomes so taxing on one’s mind and body, regardless of its original purpose, the person will naturally begin to repel whatever is causing them harm as an instinctual response. Too much of one thing, in this case historical grievances placed upon a highly sensitive individual, will fail to prolong, and even more so if this thing negatively affects an individual. The purpose of history is to teach the present past mistakes, enrich the minds of future generations, and to maintain culture but none of that can be acknowledged by Yetu if her history becomes a mental and physical burden. Yetu is her own person and the history of her people is consuming her, so much so, that the preservation of the rememberings is placed above her own as it “had been plain to all for many years that Yetu was a creature on the precipice, and without a successor in place, [the history of the Wajinru would] be lost” (Soloman, 4). Her community was more concerned about the memories she held than who Yetu was or how she felt. At the end of the day all mammals are ruled by their instinctual need for survival and though Yetu’s life was not always in physical danger her role as a Historian became more regarded than herself as a living being. This dynamic between Yetu, her people, and history created a disconnect between each of these facets; causing Yetu to flee her responsibility, people, and culture. Too much history, living in the past and becoming absent in the present, began to threaten Yetu’s sense of identity when her history was supposed to help shape it, therefore evoking the outcome of her completely abandoning it; leaving the history of her people to be lost as she found herself.

Contrastingly, the lack of connection Oori had with her own history and people created a profound absence of self identity and a pervasive sense of displacement within the world and her place within it. The readers are introduced to Oori when one of the two legs, Suka, told Yetu it was Oori that had been supplying her the fish that were keeping her alive. When Yetu asked if Oori was one of Suka’s family members she had replied that she wasnt and that “[Oori’s] from an island off the northwestern coast. [Suka’s family were] inland mainland folk, and much farther south.” Although Oori had traded, usually giving more than taking, to Suka’s family for a while she was still not considered one of them; she was still an outsider from another land, one that was nearly nonexistent. In that same manner, Oori did her own thing and lived in her own way as Suka remarked that Oori did things as she wanted to. This way of life that seemed “other” to Suka could very well be the culture of her people which creates this disconnect between Oori and people like Suka. Oori fails to fit into a mold she was not cultivated for, therefore isolating herself from the people who inhabit the land she has found a home in. This sort of disconnect is poised to attack Oori’s understanding of her place in this society and may even push her to disregard her culture and history to assimilate to her new environment, further perpetuating the idea that a common history and way of life people share ground them. Oori was a part of a people called Oshuben and they had all died. With the passing of her people were also the loss of their stories, culture, and history. Due to these circumstances, as much as Suka’s people rejected her, she rejected them. Suka explained to Yetu that Oori did not like being thanked as it was “too close to kinship for her, which she doesn’t do” (Soloman, 82). Kinship to Oori was something she believed she did not have, and could not have, due to her people being deceased; she clung onto the few memories and traditions she still shared with her lost people. If Oori were to connect with a new people, she would feel as if she is further losing sight of her identity. Oori is the last of her people and without her constant mindfulness to keep her culture in mind when interacting with new people, traditions, and culture then the Oshuben will officially be lost. Her peoples’ history survives through her, presenting Oori as a historian for her own people; she will continue to reject all connection with other peoples as she feels she will have abandoned her people and be responsible for their loss. This will further isolate her and inadvertently attack her sense of belonging.

Yetu and Oori pose as character foils and through this dynamic a balance of too much history and not enough can create just enough of each; a balance. When Oori first informs Yetu of the loss of her people, the two of them had varying perceptions of it being a positive or negative outcome within the grand scheme of things. Yetu felt it was not the worst thing to lose everything, that without a people to hold Oori to standards or expectations she “had room to think. To know what she wanted and believed”. Yetu felt that with her new found freedom she “[knew] who [she was]now” that she “-wasn’t Yetu. [She] was just a shell for their whims” (Soloman, 93). Yetu had too much pressure on her created by her ancestors and people that she had no room to be herself, to add her own mark on history, causing her to reject it. On the other hand, Oori responded to these ideologies saying she “would take any amount of pain in the world if it meant I could know all the memories of the Oshuben. [She] barely [knew] any stories from [her] parents’ generation,” (93). Oori is perplexed by the willingness of Yetu to leave her people asking, “How could [she] leave behind something like that? Doesn’t it hurt not to know who you are?”. Here the reader is presented with two opposite ends of a spectrum: Yetu with too much history where she cannot find a sense of self identity and importance, and Oori who has little to no history or connection with her people making it difficult for her to feel she has the permission to find herself. This is the reason that people must find a balance between their history and present. Though they posed as each other’s opposites, they craved each other. When Yetu found Oori sailing away from her lost home, she beckoned her to join her in the water saying, “Stay with me, and we will make a new thing. What’s behind us, it is done,” (Soloman, 153). The reader is seeing two worlds collide; the union of Oori and Yetu is a balance of too much history and not enough. They both will take what their past has taught them and implement it into their present lives, adding their own flair which further extends their peoples way of life that will too become history. Oori’s transformation into a “new thing” is the physical embodiment of history and the present creating a hybrid version of itself. The past offers lessons and answers of previous generations that may apply to the present generations; with this knowledge the current generation will feel free to take that knowledge and apply it to their current society, creating a “new thing”.

Solomon was able to craft the idea that keeping ones’ history with them in the present while also adding their own ideals onto it, creating a future, is the way to preserve both culture and self identity. Yetu rejected her people and what they represented due to a sense of displacement within her own home; she had no room to be herself since she was living for everyone else in the past. Moreover, Oori had no people to rely on and when one has no real sense of belonging to something bigger than themselves, they tend to cling onto what little they do have, dissipating any room they had to belong anywhere else. The balance between these two dynamics is imperative and is what will ensure that people connect with their past, present and future.

Works Cited

Soloman, R. The Deep. Simon & Schuster, 2019

Final Essay: The Ocean in Mermaid Myths

Posted on May 9, 2024 by Sierra Suelzle

Sierra Suelzle

Dr. Pressman

ECL 305

9 May, 2024

The Ocean in European and Hawaiian Mermaid Myths

Mermaid stories have been around for thousands of years, but they have only recently been looked at as a way to understand the views of the environment individual cultures had at a given time. In the 1837 Danish story, The Little Mermaid, and the 1857 German story, The Nixie in the Pond, the use of terracentric language emphasizes the lack of cultural significance of the Ocean and other bodies of water in 19th century Europe. However, in the Hawaiian mermaid myths, The Mermaid of Honokawailani Pond (1979) and Kalamainuߵu, the Moߵo Who Seduced Punaߵaikoaߵe (1869), the Ocean is treated in the same manner as land, showing a deeper respect for it and other bodies of water. The way the Ocean and water are discussed in these stories is exemplary of the differing perspectives that Hawaiian culture and European cultures had of the Ocean in the 19th century. The ability to compare the views of the Ocean in different parts of the world in the same time period showcases the importance comparative literature has in understanding history.

Terracentrism is a relatively new term that has been circulating in the academic field of blue humanities. Terracentrism is the act of centering the land in stories, verbal conversations, media, etc. This is an unconscious action that can be seen in all forms of media from “writers [who] have embedded a terrestrial bias in virtually all stories about the past” (Rodzadowski, 2018, p. 7). Examples of terracentric language include “field, ground, progress, state, and landscape” (Mentz, 2020, p. xv – xvii). The Ocean has been an important figure in all of history but goes unrecognized in favor of the seemingly important actions that happen on land. Blue Humanities is a new field under the umbrella of Environmental Humanities that aims to study and understand “the significance [the Ocean] holds for modern culture and society” (Gillis, 2013, para. 14). Blue Humanities encourages scholars to reframe their way of thinking to center the Ocean rather than the land. The most visible way to do this is to recognize the terracentric language used in everyday phrases, literature, and more. Recognizing the use of terracentric language allows people to understand the role that land and the Ocean play in our daily lives. This also encourages people to see the Ocean as a more prominent feature in culture and society rather than a secondary feature in the environment.

Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid (1837) uses clear terracentric language to assist 19th-century readers in understanding the setting of the Ocean. Readers at this time were not familiar with the Ocean because the depths of the Ocean had not been explored in any way. When choosing to write a story that takes place in the Ocean, Andersen had to use analogies that centered around land to ensure that readers could visualize the story. Andersen describes the location of the underwater world as being “so deep, indeed, that no rope can fathom it; and many church steeples need be piled one upon the other to reach from the bottom to the surface” (Andersen, 1837, p. 107). By using church steeples and ropes to explain the depths of the Ocean, Andersen is using land as an analogy for the Ocean, therefore using terracentric language. Church steeples only exist on land and would not be able to exist underwater as they would erode, but in 19th century Denmark, they were all over the nation. It was nearly impossible to enter a town and not see a church steeple as Christianity was the most prominent and official religion of Denmark at that time (Britannica, 2024). This description was made so that anyone who read the story would be able to have a vague idea of how deep in the Ocean this story takes place. Although Denmark itself is a peninsula and contains many islands, the Ocean is not seen as an important feature of the environment as land is because European culture at the time was not focused on water exploration.

The Brothers Grimm’s story, The Nixie in the Pond (1857), also employs terracentric language to clarify the setting and warn readers about unknown bodies of water. In the story, a man makes a deal with the water spirit who resides in the pond near his house to gain wealth in exchange for his son, who eventually gets taken by the water spirit. After the son is taken underwater by the water spirit, the pond is described as being “as calm as a mirror” (Grimm, 1857, p. 50) with “only the face of the half-moon” (Grimm, 1857, p. 50) reflecting off the water. The water cannot be described without using an object that people of the time would be familiar with and in this case, that would be a mirror. By using a land-based object to describe the pond, the Brothers Grimm show a preference and centering for land. The phrase “the water looks like glass” comes to mind when discussing this topic because that is essentially what the Brothers Grimm are saying when comparing the surface of the pond to a mirror. That phrase is an example of terracentrism because it places the body of water being described as secondary to the land. In Germany at this time, there was a large shift to industrialization which drew people’s attention away from the natural world to technological advancements. The literature of this time showcases that as in The Nixie in the Pond, the natural world is shown as a challenge to overcome.

Conversely, the Hawaiian myth, The Mermaid of Honokawailani Pond, exhibits a deeper respect for bodies of water by discussing the pond in the story in association with the Ocean rather than land. This myth was first published in Hawaiian in 1979 but was passed down orally for generations before it was written down. In the initial description of the pond, the features of the water are described in detail and are done so with no comparison to land. The pond is described as being “always full of water from beneath the earth” (Nākoa, 1979, p.247), and “when it was high tide, the freshwater of Honokawailani rose like that of the sea, and the water of the pond rose and became a stream” (Nākoa, 1979, p. 247). A description of the color of the water was even given: “The water was a dark blue-green until the sun hit it, and then made it transparent” (Nākoa, 1979, p. 247). The attention to detail of the tidal patterns of the pond, as well as the changing of colors shows how important bodies of water were to the Hawaiian people. Most land-based cultures do not pay that close attention to the changes of a pond because it is not seen as important as the land. When the pond is compared to anything, it’s to the Ocean, demonstrating the value and understanding of water in this culture. There is no need to compare ponds to anything other than water because Hawaii is comprised of islands, so the people of this culture are surrounded by water and understand its characteristics, unlike the European countries.

Similarly, the story Kalamainuߵu, the Moߵo Who Seduced Punaߵaikoaߵe (1869) uses ocean-centered language to portray situations that display a culture centered around water. The story Kalamainuߵu, the Moߵo Who Seduced Punaߵaikoaߵe (1869) main goal in Hawaiian culture was to explain how two deities came to be but is a great example of how to decenter land in language. The main character of the story, Punaߵaikoaߵe, was a chief on Oߵahu who was lured away from his family and community by a “reptilian water deity” (Bacchilega & Brown, 2019, p. 246) named Kalamainuߵu. When Punaߵaikoaߵe discovers that Kalamainuߵu can shift between being a lizard and human, Kalamainuߵu yells at him. During this fight, it is described that Punaߵaikoaߵe “stood in the sea spray of her anger” ( ‘Ī‘ī, 1869, p. 252). The use of sea spray as a metaphor to describe the distance that Kalamainuߵu’s anger reaches reveals how integral the Ocean and water are to Hawaiian culture. The audience who hears this story does not have to guess how far that description means because they are well acquainted with the distance that sea spray can reach. A terracentric view of this phrase would be that of standing in the line of fire. The choice to not use a phrase based on land also showcases an understanding of fluidity. Sea spray never reaches the exact same spot, so measuring a distance using an ever-changing entity displays an acceptance of change in the environment. Living in a culture that depends on water means that there has to be an understanding of change and an ability to shift because of how often tides and the size and shape of the waves change.

In the Danish and German stories, a clear preference for land was shown which signifies a land-based culture. The Little Mermaid (1837) and The Nixie in the Pond utilize land-based structures to describe the Ocean and other bodies of water while the Hawaiian story, The Mermaid of Honokawailani Pond, does not. The level of detail that was given in The Mermaid of Honokawailani Pond is unlike that of The Little Mermaid (1837) and The Nixie of the Pond where the basic features of the Ocean were explained, such as size, depth, and the environment surrounding it. The use of church steeples to explain depth is a constant measurement that showcases a lack of understanding of the Ocean because the depth of the Ocean is always changing. When the sand shifts and the tides change, the floor of the Ocean can become deeper or shallower. This understanding is shown in The Mermaid of Honokawailani Pond because the pond is described as having varying depths when the tides change. This is an example of how European cultures do not prioritize or respect the Ocean or bodies of water to the extent that Hawaiian cultures did at this time. Danish and German culture in the 19th century viewed the environment as something to conquer and fear, and since the Ocean is unconquerable, it was deemed as unworthy of attention. The Hawaiian story, Kalamainuߵu, the Moߵo Who Seduced Punaߵaikoaߵe, also demonstrates a deeper respect for the Ocean because it uses water as a way to measure distance even if it is done so figuratively. Danish and German cultures did not have this advanced knowledge of the Ocean but they had a lot of knowledge about land and the differences in soil composition, crops, etc. These descriptions bring to light what Hawaiian culture viewed as important information compared to what Danish and German cultures thought. European cultures held technological advancements as important, while Hawaiian culture held the environment in higher regard.

Being able to read a variety of stories from the same time in different parts of the Earth showcases the importance of Comparative Literature. The awareness and knowledge that is gained from reading these stories is incomparable. Reading and comparing these stories promotes a better comprehension of history and how cultures view differing aspects of the environment than is gained from just reading a textbook. The Ocean has been a constant for all of history but has only recently been studied as history. Mermaid stories are a crucial aspect of learning how environmental humanities and perspectives of the Ocean have shifted and developed throughout the centuries.

Works Cited

Andersen, Hans Christian. “The Little Mermaid.” The Penguin Book of Mermaids, edited by Christina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown, Penguin Books, 2019, p. 107-130.

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

Encyclopædia Britannica, inc. (2024). Religion of denmark. Encyclopædia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/place/Denmark/Religion

Grimm, Jacob and Grimm, Wilhelm. “The Nixie in the Pond.” The Penguin Book of Mermaids, edited by Christina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown, Penguin Books, 2019, p. 49-53.

‘Ī‘ī, John Papa. “Kalamainuߵu, the Moߵo Who Seduced Punaߵaikoaߵe.” The Penguin Book of Mermaids, edited by Christina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown, Penguin Books, 2019, p. 250-259.

Nākoa, Sarah. “The Mermaid of Honokawailani Pond.” The Penguin Book of Mermaids, edited by Christina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown, Penguin Books, 2019, p. 246-249.

Final Essay

Posted on May 9, 2024 by Paige Harrisberger

Paige Harrisberger

Professor Jessica Pressman

ECL 305: Literature & Environment

9 May 2024

Reimagining History Through the Ocean

In Derek Walcott’s poem “The Sea is History,” published in 1979, the sea serves as more than just a physical entity; it embodies an archive of collective memory, a symbol of both hope and tragedy, and a metaphor for the complex history and identity of the Caribbean people. The poem is an invitation to reconsider conventional narratives of history and to explore the sea as a storage of collective memory and untold stories. Reading the poem this way challenges the traditional modes of historical studies that often prioritize written records and official accounts. In the past, academic scholarship has shown an evident terrestrial bias, overlooking the deep-rooted influence the ocean realm has on the human experience. In “The Blue Humanities,” published in 2013, written by John Gillis, he writes about addressing the shift to recognize oceans as driving forces in shaping global history.

Derek Walcott’s poem “The Sea is History” dives into the belief that the sea embodies more than just physicality; it represents a reservoir of collective memory and a repository of untold histories. The title of the poem itself suggests that the sea is an archive of history, challenging traditional methods of historical documentation and interpretation. The lines “there was the sound/like a rumour without any echo” from the poem evoke a sense of mystery and ambiguity, inviting his readers to contemplate the complicated nature of historical truth and the complex relationship between memory and silence. The metaphor of a rumour, with its implications of hearsay and uncertainty, reflects the idea that history is often shaped by subjective interpretations and selective recollections. Like a rumour that spreads through word of mouth, historical narratives can be distorted or manipulated over time, leading to a snowball effect of conflicting accounts and obscured truths. Rumours are often unsubstantiated, subject to distortion, and easily forgotten, mirroring the malleability and fragility that is mirrored by historical narratives. This metaphor holds a significance in terms of Walcott’s cultural context, particularly within the Carribbean context, where oral tradition plays a crucial role in shaping collective memory and identity. In Caribbean history, colonial powers exerted significant control over the narratives that shaped perceptions of the region and its people. European colonizers, such as the Spanish, Portuguese, British, French, and Dutch, sought to portray their colonization efforts as aimed at civilizing and uplifting indigenous populations. They imposed their cultural, economic, and political dominance over the Caribbean islands, shaping the collective understanding of the region’s history in accordance with their own interests. Colonial powers often depicted their colonization efforts as noble endeavors. However, beneath the false appearance lay a blunt reality of exploitation, oppression, and domination. Colonial powers systematically stripped the natural resources of the Caribbean, exploiting indigenous labor and forcibly displacing entire communities to work on plantations and in mines. The transatlantic slave trade further intensified the exploitation and dehumanization of African peoples, who were forcibly transported to the Caribbean to work under brutal conditions on sugar, cotton, and tobacco plantations. Moreover, colonial powers implemented systems of racial hierarchy and discrimination that sustained social, economic, and political inequalities long after the end of formal colonization. Indigenous peoples and Africans were marginalized, disenfranchised, and subjected to violence and discrimination, while European settlers and their descendants enjoyed privilege, wealth, and power.

The second part of the line I mentioned earlier, “without any echo,” further reinforces the idea of silence and erasure, suggesting that certain voices and perspectives may be lost or disregarded in the retelling of history. In the context of the poem, this silence may represent the voices of marginalized or oppressed communities whose experiences have been overlooked or silenced by dominant historical narratives. Moreover, the comparison to an echoless rumour implies a sense of hopelessness in attempting to uncover the full extent of historical truth. Just as an echo fades into silence, leaving behind only traces of its existence, so do the voices and memories of the past gradually disappear over time, leaving behind fragmented and incomplete accounts of history. The final line of the poem reads, “of History, really beginning.” The capitalization of the “H” in History holds significance, signaling to the gravity and universality of the concept being referred to. Capitalizing “History” raises it to a proper noun, giving it a sense of importance and authority. It suggests that History is not simply just a series of events but a profound and meaningful entity that shapes the trajectory of human civilization. Walcott may also be implying that History is an ongoing and evolving process, with each moment of time contributing to the overall narrative. In this sense, History is not static but dynamic, constantly being written and unwritten by different generations.

These lines from Derek Walcott’s poem draw parallels to John R. Gillis’s ideas from “The Blue Humanities” by proving there is an evolving perception of the sea in a historical context. Gillis’s statement, “The historicization of the oceans is one of the most striking trends in the blue humanities. History no longer stops at the water’s edge,” demonstrates the growing acknowledgement of the ocean’s significance on human experience and culture. This recognition challenges the traditional land-centric views that historians have had and expands the inquiry past land and into the ocean. Since previous narratives have often overlooked seeing the sea as history, it signifies a departure from these ideas. By saying, “History no longer stops at the water’s edge,” Gillis is suggesting a reconfiguration of historical boundaries because what really are boundaries? The expansion of these invented historical borders can encourage scholars to look at the interconnectedness between land and sea, and not as separate entities. There is a fluidity and permeability to the human experience. The ocean allows for the exchange and interaction between continents and countries across the globe. He mentions these are the trends in the blue humanities, where the focus is not just in one field, but combining knowledge from multiple different fields to form a more comprehensive understanding of the relationship between humans and the oceanic environment.

The historization of the oceans is a shift being made in terms of scholarly perspectives, and it is equally important to recognize the cultural dimensions of the sea. As Gillis emphasizes, “Sea stories, chanties, and marine painting are by no means new, but it is only recently that they have been subject to academic scrutiny.” This quote shows the importance of examining the part that cultural expressions and artifacts play in connecting humans and the ocean. Sea stories, chanties, and marine paintings all have their individualistic way of retelling history and they are not simply just artistic expression. Just these serve as vessels of history, so does Derek Walcott’s poem, “The Sea is History.” His poem acts as a medium of retelling and reinterpreting the complex history and identity of the Caribbean people. It can be seen as a sea story where he pulls together the hardships of slavery and colonization with the sea as the backdrop setting. By subjecting cultural expressions, such as this poem, to academic scrutiny, scholars working in the blue humanities are able to uncover a richer, more inclusive history. They are able to trace back the perceptions of the ocean and the ways in which humans interacted and interpreted it throughout time. This fosters a deeper appreciation for human culture and our constant evolving relationship with the sea.

Derek Walcott’s poem “The Sea is History” offers a deep reflection on the multifaceted role of the sea in shaping Caribbean history and identity. By doing this, we can open up space for alternative sources of knowledge and interpretation. Oral histories, folklore, art, and cultural practices can provide valuable insights into the lived experiences of marginalized communities and offer nuanced perspectives on historical events. Moreover, John Gillis’s ideas from “The Blue Humanities,” further the importance of recognizing the ocean as an archive of history. His observations about the historicization of the oceans challenge the traditional land-centric views and expand scholarly inquiry beyond terrestrial “boundaries.” By acknowledging the interconnectedness between humans and the oceanic environment, scholars in the blue humanities are able to develop a more comprehensive understanding of oceanic history and culture. By combining Walcott and Gillis’s work, it ultimately reminds us to listen to the stories that are held beneath the surface and to not be afraid to dive deeper. There is a significant value in hearing marginalized voices, alternative perspectives, and honoring those silenced voices. In doing so, scholars are able to create a comprehensive history that does not leave out the things we don’t want to hear, offering a chance to break the cycle of history’s repetition.

Works Cited

Walcott, Derek. (1979). “The Sea is History.”

Gillis, John R. (2013). “The Blue Humanities.”

Final Essay Thesis

Posted on April 28, 2024 by Thavanh Pais

ECL 305 – Final Essay

Thesis: William Cronon, “The Trouble with Wilderness” (1996)

In the face of escalating environmental challenges, particularly climate change, Cronon’s critique prompts a reassessment of wilderness preservation strategies, highlighting the need for adaptive management approaches that prioritize resilience and ecological integrity. However, the emotional connection to nature fostered by these ideals can serve as a powerful motivator for conservation efforts, suggesting a nuanced understanding of human-nature relationships. This necessitates the adoption of adaptive management approaches that not only prioritize resilience and ecological integrity but also harness the emotional resonance of wilderness to inspire meaningful action in mitigating the impacts of climate change and safeguarding the planet’s biodiversity.

1) What do you see?: This is your insight

Cronon’s exploration of the emotional connection to wilderness underscores its potential as a powerful motivator for conservation efforts.

2) Where do you see it? How is it being done?: This is where you use specific elements from the work to support your insight

Cronon’s critique in “The Trouble with Wilderness” challenges the idealized view of wilderness as pristine and untouched, while acknowledging its emotional resonance in historical and cultural narratives. He suggests that this emotional connection can be harnessed to inspire conservation efforts.

3) Why is this relevant? So What?: This is where you explain why your insight is relevant, where you make an argument about what the work is saying/doing with and through your insight. This is where you push your insight to larger conclusions about the work as a whole.

This insight is relevant in the face of environmental challenges like climate change, as it advocates for a shift towards adaptive management approaches that prioritize both ecological integrity and emotional engagement with nature. By recognizing and leveraging the emotional appeal of wilderness, conservation efforts can become more inclusive and effective in addressing pressing environmental issues.

Final Essay Outline

Posted on April 27, 2024 by Carina Virto

Hey guys,

Here is the outline of my final essay for this class; Let me know what you think or feel that I could add to my body paragraphs! 🙂 Thanks.

Title: “Straight to the Heart”

Thesis: In order to get humans to begin to reconnect with their forsaken connection to nature, the environment we live in and are inherently apart of, we must personify it through the use of literature and the understandings of the Blue Humanities; thus retying the knot between humans and the environment for the betterment of society and future generations.

Body 1: What is the environmental crisis?

Global warming, air pollution, overfishing etc (Source “Emergence of Environmental Humanities”)
Why haven’t we fixed it, the roadblocks, etc

Body 2: How will literature help?

People take action when they feel emotionally inclined (Source: “Blue Humanities”)
Literature evokes emotion and understanding
Speak on Mama Dlo (Mami wata) in terms of how she protects the ocean and now has people taking off their left shoe and walking backwards proving the power of literature

Body 3: So what? Why should we care and reconnect with the environment?

The world will live with or without us (Source: Sirenomelia)
The sea is of so much cultural significance and should be treated accordingly (Source “The Sea Is History”)
Tie it all together by saying not only do we need the environment to physically thrive but culturally, which then translates into emotionally, as well

Literature and the Environment: Mermaids

Professor Jessica Pressman. Spring 2024

Tag Archives: Final Essay

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