EXTRA CREDIT DISCOVERY POST: Penguin Book of Mermaids

For my Penguin Book discovery post, I wanted to dwell on the water spirits of the Philippines. Even though I was raised in a country known for its beaches and biodiversity and a culture that deeply values its rivers and seas, it still surprised me to see not one but four mermaid stories from the Philippines. When I lived in the Philippines, I’d only ever learned of the sirena or its male equivalent, the siyokoy, in passing and mostly as a joke to watch out for what lurked in the water. But the thing that interested me the most about these mermaid stories is the place that these stories are from: the Ilocos region. My dad’s side of the family is from the Ilocos region of the Philippines (specifically from Pangasinan) but this is the first I have ever heard of these mermaid/mermaid-aligned legends associated with the region.

The story that I was particularly interested in was the first story: the Mermaid Queen of Binalatongan. According to the section introduction, this story is “one of the oldest stories in the Ilokano volumes, dating back to the 1600s” (213), and its paragraphs are full of snippets of the Philippines’ pre-colonial economy and politics. The story tells of a prosperous kingdom called Binalatongan, named for its main export of balatong, or mung beans, which sees traders from China, Japan, and Borneo, its ordinary citizens wearing luxurious Chinese silk as everyday clothes, and its rivers flowing with gold. (215) Although the last two items might be a bit of an exaggeration, this is a far cry from the image of pre-colonial Philippines that is usually painted for the everyday person, including me. I was taught that before the Spanish came to the Philippines, the country was a savage, untamed land and its people were equally savage and untamed, with no religion, culture, or economy to organize the land and its many islands and tribes. Imagine my surprise when I learned through this story of the complex political systems and lush trade routes that existed long before the Spanish even put the Philippines on their maps.

Another aspect of the story that interested me was how the mermaid of Binalatongan is portrayed in contrast to how the sirena is painted. In the story, the mermaid is a benevolent spirit who guides fishermen back home after a storm, saves children from drowning, and gives widows pearls to help support themselves after the death of their husbands. (215) This is also a far cry from the image of sirenas that I grew up with. Growing up, saying that my favorite Disney movie was “The Little Mermaid” and that I loved mermaids was met with a wince or a grimace. Sirenas in the Philippines have a reputation for drowning any unsuspecting person who comes too close to their territory or luring them with their looks and voices to watery deaths. To delight in a creature that uses its beauty to kill was not a popular opinion; in fact, it might have been downright controversial. The word sirena, along with the sinister mythology that came with it, was borrowed from the Spanish who brought Christianity to the Philippines. The kind mermaid of Binalatongan is nothing like the Spanish sirena, which exposes each culture’s relationship not just to nature but to women as well.

In the beginning of the story, Maginoo Palasipas yearns “to be conquered by the heart of a woman” and to have someone fair and beautiful rule alongside him and his prosperous kingdom, only finding his match in the mermaid that has helped his people many times. (215) It does not matter to Maginoo Palasipas that the woman is not entirely human; it only matters that she uses her powers to help rather than hurt. This reveals the pre-colonial view of nature as benevolent and life-giving and the pre-colonial view of women as essential to the function of society and politics. Contrast that with the colonial view of the sirena as a temptress, constructed to demonize women and to illustrate the natural world as capricious and something to fear. The sirena‘s folklore, especially when coupled with Christian indoctrination of the Philippines, reveals not just a change in attitude within the people towards women and nature but within the culture as well, from an egalitarian view to a more patriarchal, misogynistic one.

Ti Jeanne – Vanity

The story of Ti Jeanne brings us back to the ideas and beliefs around vanity. Ti Jeanne’s story serves as an exploration of the themes surrounding vanity and its consequences. The story revolves around Ti Jeanne, who in a moment of solitude indulges in the seemingly harmless act of admiring her reflection in the water. However, her actions attract the attention of Maman Dlo, who scolds Ti Jeanne for her vanity. “‘Vanity, vanity, my child,’ said Maman Dlo, who was now fully seven feet erect on her snakebody, swaying from side to side. ‘Looking at yourself in the water’s reflection. But beautiful you are, ssssssso beautiful! Mmh, mmh!” (Penguin, 276). Maman Dlo admires Ti Jeanne’s beauty but does not think she has the right to admire it herself. In many stories, mermaids are depicted as creatures obsessed with their beauty, spending amounts of time gazing at themselves in mirrors or water reflections. By transforming Ti Jeanne into a mermaid, the story draws a parallel between her actions and the archetype of the vain mermaid, suggesting that her preoccupation with her appearance aligns her with mermaids. This story also highlights the interconnectedness between human nature and merpeople. The connection of Ti Jeanne’s actions to a characteristic commonly associated with mermaids creates a blur of the boundary between humans and mythical creatures. This idea suggests that human behaviors and traits can take on those of mythical stories. Vanity is a trait that is often seen as a negative. It is often associated with not only mermaids but also women in general. Placing a negative connotation with looking at oneself should not only be told through the tales of women. This creates a negative narrative around women loving themselves and their appearance. Tales of men and mermen admiring themselves are not often told because they do not have the same connotations, similar to how in present-day society women are ridiculed for enjoying their appearance while men are not.

Week 4: A Collection of Observations – Kāliya, the Snake

I took some notes during my reading of ‘Kāliya, the Snake’. I don’t know a super coherent way to organize my thoughts here, so I am going to separate them by bullet points.

  • “Serpent worship is among the world’s oldest and most widespread religious practices.” This surprised me. Maybe it’s because I was raised, and the snake is a symbol of the Devil in Christian/Catholic ideologies. It might be because my dad has an ungodly fear of snakes, so I’ve always seen them as something to avoid and not to worship. Maybe I’ve been living under a rock – either way, it’s cool. The only snake-like God or deity I can imagine is Geb from Ancient Egypt.
  • “Then he came upon the river Yamunā, whose waves were tossing about as if she were laughing, throwing patches of foam on the banks.” I really like the use of personification to describe the river Yamunā. I firmly believe one of the fundamental problems with us as a species is how we stopped looking at the natural world as its own being. I don’t know if that makes any sense. To most people words like ‘lake’, ‘river’, ‘tree’, ‘mountain’, etc. are just that – words. They are void of personality and I’d be willing to bet for a lot of people, placing humanlike behaviors on these words would be considered weird or hippy-esque. As a species, it almost seems like we stopped trying to understand the natural world – we replaced that connection with the hellbent desire to conquer it. We stopped adapting to Earth, now Earth has to adapt to us. Unfortunately I think its too late to turn the tides on humanity (singular) we view our planet.
  • “How can I, a mere woman, describe you? . . . Since silly women and miserable creatures are to be pitied by the virtuous, please forgive this wretched creature, you who are eminent among the forgiving!” Once again, gross gross GROSS. It’s so crazy to write a story and have a woman just blatantly say this. I’m assuming this story was passed down orally in Hindu for centuries, so for centuries these ideals were fed to young boys and girls. I know that this note isn’t very constructive as its saying somethings thats already been said and will probably be said for the rest of our course from time to time – but golly, this undisguised degradation of women as an entirety is so baffling and strange.

Week 3: Penguin Book of Mermaids

The The Penguin Book of Mermaids begins by discussing the history of mermaids from various perspectives. I found this information to be necessary as a precursor to our studies, especially for us who have a lack of knowledge on the subject. I thought it was interesting that we discussed the human views of nonhuman and monstrous beings in class, and that it was demonstrated again in the idea that “There is something deeply unsettling about a being whose form merges the human with the nonhuman”(p. xi). This made me wonder what direction the stories in this book will lead towards, whether they will admire the nonhuman or not. What is so unsettling? Is this just human opinion or do these creatures have evil traits? I am curious to uncover the truth from each culture.

Another point I find fascinating, is the course of a story and how “stories move about in the world in ways that are comparable to ocean currents, following a course as they move”(xv). First off, I think this is a fantastic metaphor to describe the constant evolution of story telling and it brings up a great point. How do we know what began in these stories and what has shifted through storytelling? I am eager to keep reading to uncover these mysteries.