Final Essay

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      

Week 14: The Deep

These chapters of The Deep made me feel a sense of sympathy for Yetu as she was experiencing an internal struggle between picking herself or others. She is torn between her duty to her community and her own need for self-preservation. Without her identity as a historian, who was she? When she first experiences life without the burden of memories, she finds herself capable of making a deeper connection with someone else. She experiences emotions, connections, and conversations that were previously out of reach for her.

The passage that ends chapter 7 is what really stuck with me. It reads, “At least with pain there was life, a chance at change and redemption. The remembering might still kill her but the wajinru would go on, and so, too, would the rest of the world. The turbulent waves were a chaos of her own making and it was time to face them (126).” Despite the pain Yetu endures as a result of the History, it affirms that these experiences are a vital part of her existence. She realizes that this pain is a testament to her growth and the ability to persevere in the face of adversity. She carries the immense burden of her peoples’ memories and is forced to experience the trauma and pain first hand. She is burdened by the weight of their memories and chose her mental and emotional well-being as she couldn’t continue to sacrifice herself for them. But, she ultimately realizes that she needs to help her people in order to save them. Even though she knows this will cause her pain that may even kill her, she is willing to put others first. She realizes that her role as the historian is not just a burden but also a vital aspect of her identity and purpose. Her people rely on her to preserve the History and their culture and that abandoning them would be leading to far-reaching consequences. She acknowledges that this chaos is in part of her decisions and is willing to face the internal and external struggles that await. She is ready to confront the painful memories she has been suppressing and embrace the responsibility she has as Historian. Although this is her “job,” I still find myself feeling bad for her as she did not choose to have this life. It seems unfair that she doesn’t get to experience much happiness in life unless she is away from her community where she doesn’t have to constantly relive trauma.

Week 14: The Ocean as Mother

There’s something so profound about how the themes of creation and motherhood work within Rivers Solomon’s The Deep. We can see how important motherhood is held through the creation of the womb that protects the wajinru from being preyed on while remembering, the relationship between Yetu and her amaba, and the wanjiru’s origins as the babies of pregnant African women who were thrown overboard during the Atlantic slave trade. Most importantly, we can see it in how the ocean is portrayed as an entity that first taught the wajinru to breathe underwater.

In the last chapter of The Deep, Yetu tells her amaba that she is trying to remember what it was like to be in the womb that carried the very first wajinru, to have a two-legged mother, and to be born to breathe air instead of water. Amaba then tells Yetu that there is little to no difference between the waters of the womb and the ocean water that surrounds them all. In a way, they are all still in the womb, always in a state of growth, change, and potential. They were carried in water and born into water. “It is all waters.” (149)

The centering of motherhood and creation in The Deep centers the stories and experiences of women through the reframing of the ocean as the creator and holder of all life on land and in the sea, more than a womb and more than a home. The ocean serves as a protector for those who seek refuge in its depths and as a teacher for those who are willing to learn. The story allows its female characters–and the ocean itself–to define themselves as more than just mothers or warriors, but as explorers, teachers, and historians as well.

The Deep Chapter 5

In this week’s reading of The Deep, I would like to focus on a passage in the text that I found rather comforting. While Yetu is leaving the Wajinru, she experiences different memories and rememberings in different parts of the ocean. She realizes she’s unsure of if these memories are hers or not, but in drifting she feels a sense of identity has appeared. Something that she has struggled with since she carries the remembering of her community. Specifically, “Rememberings didn’t haunt her. She was just Yetu. She wasn’t quite sure who that was, but she didn’t mind the unknowing because it came with such calm, such a freedom from the pain.” This part of the chapter brought me some comfort, mainly because in Western and/or certain individual perspectives, the Ocean has been seen as this scary vast force that entails danger. This part of the book challenges that. The feeling that there could be comfort and familiarity in this huge space even though it is unknown. And the factor of it being unknown it doesn’t deem it scary or dangerous was a refreshing point of view.

I appreciate this specific part of The Deep because it pushes me to hold (even more) of a personal and intimate perspective on the Ocean and I also like that it challenges the view of sublimity associated with the Ocean since it suggests that the Ocean can heal and comfort individuals, like Yetu in this case.

Week 14: Nature Doesn’t Need Validation.

Sorry for the short post, everyone. It’s been a very difficult weekend, so my creative juices aren’t flowing as freely.

This remark encapsulates an important aspect of Wajinru living. The whale, which represents nature’s protective and caring features, cares for the Wajinru and even feeds their smallest members. Our need to assign specific meanings and purposes to everything contrasts dramatically with nature’s intrinsic ability to exist in harmony and serve its surroundings.

People frequently seek meaning and purpose via their actions and lives. Everything, to humans, has a certain function. We provide little to no wiggle space for these specified reasons to change, and we are terrible at admitting when something does not contribute to society in the way we EXPECT. As we strive to understand our place in the world, we assign events, objects, and relationships significance. Nature, however, functions in a different way. Without making a conscious effort to define its function, each component of the ecosystem operates in tandem. This natural hierarchy is best demonstrated by the whale in the quotation, which provides care and nourishment without needing to justify its actions or seek acceptance from others.

Entering Chapter 3 of “The Deep,” readers are prompted to consider the complexities of human perception and our proclivity to provide meaning where it is not required. We are urged to contemplate the natural world’s intrinsic equilibrium of cohabitation, as well as the balance of seeking meaning through the lens of the Wajinru’s story and their relationship with the whale.

Sorry, again, for the brevity. I’ll see you all in class.

Week 14: Individual Identity vs The Culture/History of a People

For this weeks’ blog I want to zone in on the big debate I found to be posed in chapter 5: Does history and culture give significance to the human existence or does our own personalities and experiences do that? I feel like throughout the chapter Yetu was sort of going back in fourth between wanting to be apart of the culture and history of her people saying how “she missed being a part of not just the sea, but the whole world. Without the History, she felt out of place and out of time. She missed being connected to it all.” (Page 82) These are feelings are arising after she, herself, decided to abandon her people and let them remember the history of their past all by themselves, knowing it would bring them suffering and maybe forgetting it all together, as they were innately compelled to do. On the opposite side of that very same coin though, she understood that with “connection came responsibility. Duty choked independence and freedom.” These two differing views give me the impression that there is a fine line in honoring culture and giving up your own identity to follow a lifestyle that was made by a people at a time you didn’t exist to now exist in a time that they don’t.

One may ponder the idea of why should we remember our culture at all? Why dont we make our own new experiences as we go along? I think the answer to that perplexing question is that the feeling of belonging to something bigger than ourselves feeds our insatiable hunger to feel special; like we have a purpose and importance in this big world. I feel it’s important to find a balance between what came before you and what is presented now. Times are ever changing, therefore adjusting traditions in order to keep them from being fully rejected by the people it no longer serves can not only cultivate an environment that does not infringe upon personal expressions and freedoms, but also preserves that sense of belonging to a bigger purpose and therefore satisfying our inherently primal instinct for connection all in one fell swoop.

Week 14: Exploring the homeland in The Deep

River Solomon’s The Deep has introduced the readers to only one interesting concept of a homeland that seems as if they are different even though they are not. On page 122, Yetu and Oori both discuss what relationship they have to their homeland. That dialogue between Oori and Yetu illustrates that a homeland can transcend geographical boundaries. A homeland must therefore be seen as a place that holds emotional feelings and collective memories, through which those living beings start to define a place as something that is part of one’s identity.  Oori answers Yetu’s question on defining the homeland as followed: “A Homeland is just a place” that “means something because of its history” (p.122). Furthermore, Oori argues that the place needs to be highly protected to not “just be another place” (p122). In comparison to that, Yetu’s “home-sea” is the deep ocean Yetu finds herself in. What I found interesting about that is that they approach the geographical place differently. For Yetu it seems that the homelands holds no emotional significance at all, whereas for Oori it is a place that if it doesn’t get “protect[ed] what is left of it there, [Oori] will have no homeland”. That quote suggests that only the active memories make the place be your homeland. Yetu just ties the homeland to its geographical environment. Nevertheless, the homeland for Yetu as well does have an emotional impact on Yetu. The deep is a a place that is filled with the Wajingru’s memories, their suffering, their lives. It is the place Yetu relives as a hisotrian. Yetu therefore clearly has an emotional relationship to the place that Yetu calls home-sea, too, just like Oori has. The only difference is, that Yetu is living through that emotions over and over again and that Oori compared to that, tries to protect the place to not lose the legacy of it. In general, a homeland is therefore something that always needs to be preserved and protected, no matter how in which way to do that. It always shapes someone’s identity and is not just a place where someone is born in. That was so interesting to see!

Blog Post Week 14 — Chapter 5

This week I was drawn to chapter 5 of The Deep. I think it was interesting seeing Yetu’s interaction with humans, or as she calls them, “two-legs”. I found it intriguing the way that Yetu described the humans, however considering that she is an aquatic being, it makes sense that it is an ocean-centric vision. She described their hair as “large chunks of coral” (Soloman, 71). I believe this is important to note because it fully shifts the perspective of the reader outside of their human, terracentric perspectives of the world. The next part that stood out to me was the part about a war between the wajinru and humans. The book states, “Water erupted from the sea and flowed onto the surface. A war? The ocean war? The wave war?” (Solomon, 72) I believe it alluded to a huge tsunami, but claimed that it was intentionally caused by the wajinru as an act of sabotage. I’d be curious to know more about what sparked the war between them; could it be a sustainability related topic, like pollution or overfishing? Nonetheless, I am curious and hope we find out later in the story. 

The next part that stood out to me was when Yetu thinks, “Everything would be all right now that she was free” (75, Solomon). I think this is almost funny because it sounds like a foreshadowing of the trouble on the horizon. I can’t necessarily relate to being physically freed from somewhere, but whenever I think something like that or that everything will be alright, it is usually the start of utter chaos for me. I feel like it’s one of those things you don’t say as to not jynx it, but who knows we will find out as the story unfolds. Kinda going back to the first part I mentioned her describing people in terms of the ocean is that she too views the ocean differently from above. The book states, “the vastness of the ocean looked so different from above, so much less comprehensible. […] Cut off from them, she had trouble making sense of who or what she was” (Solomon, 76). It literally goes as far as saying that her separation from the ocean has flipped her identity, which we also see her get into at the end of the chapter with her expression of what she feels her role as historian was. Another point is that she can recognize that from above the ocean can seem disinviting, and that her perspective from below looking up is an entirely different relationship with the water that most humans might have. 

Week 14: The Deep

In this week’s reading I thought something important that was presented was the concept of self identity. I couldn’t help notice the times in which Yetu felt as if she didn’t know who she was anymore, or if that she was anyone for that matter. It was intriguing to read and make a mental image of Yetu evolving as we first read her with the importance of being a historian to the wajinru people and sacrificing herself for others as that is all she has ever known since the age of 14, to finally escaping that life and going through the process of finding her own identity away from the influence of others like her Amaba. Although Yetu had escaped she still had no real sense of where she felt she belonged as being in the deep meant death for her return or staying on land away from her people, “She didn’t know where she belonged, if returning to the wajinru would mean the death of her. But she wasn’t suited for like here” (page 112). In the eyes of Yetu both situations were a lose-lose, she would either loose her people or her life which is something she did intentionally ask for. Reading about this identity development felt almost as if Yetu was about to start approaching the developmental cycle that was never got to fully experience as she was just thrown into this role of historian at such a young age that now that she left her people she was able to think and decide for herself.

I also enjoyed the entirety of chapter 7 as you can see the development of Yetu and Oori’s relationship. Oori is almost like Yetu’s other half, the half that challenges her, makes her question her decisions, to truly seeing things from a different lens, but ultimately push her to make decisions for herself selfishly. It was also interesting to read that there was a lust going on between the two as they were from different worlds and different beings, but still focused on who they were as beings instead of the outliers. I think this idea also goes back to early class discussions of what differentiates a creature and human, what is the border between the two? It was clear that Yetu was not a two-leg being but she was not also fully an animal, she was still able to feel different emotions, have a more advanced thinking, and even develop a relationship with other two-leg beings but still had physical features of an animals such as gills and rows of sharp teeth. This was a thought I kept through what I’ve read so far and just makes me wonder more about life outside of humanity but also the borders that classify what is human and non.

Week 14: Value of History in The Deep

I found all of the chapters we had to read this week extremely interesting. I think that the discussion about history and its relation to personal identity was particularly fascinating because it is very applicable to contemporary discussions about history. As Yetu struggles with her identity as the historian of the wajinru, the readers are encouraged to think about their personal experience with history, both the history taught in school and personal/familial history. In Chapter 5, there are many moments where Yetu is trying to come to terms with her lack of remembering past events but the moment that stood out to me most was when she thinks that, “The emptiness inside her stretched far and wide in every direction like a cavern. It was lonely. She had thought herself unmoored when she was the historian, but this did not compare. She was a blip” (Solomon, p. 53). Without the history of her people, she felt as if she was unimportant and was adrift. Even though being the historian for her people was hard for her, without that knowledge Yetu was left confused and felt the absence of that history even more intensely. This emphasized how important it is to know and understand the history of your culture, country, etc. because without knowing the events and people that came before you, there is a void in your knowledge that can lead to dangerous repetitions of history. 

There was also an interesting discussion about personal history in Chapter 7 when Oori’s past is mentioned. As the last person alive of her people, Oori has a deep commitment to honoring her culture’s practices and history. In Chapter 7 when the storm begins to build, Oori leaves to protect her homeland and the people who live on the land Yetu found herself on said that “that the place Oori was from wasn’t really a homeland anymore because a homeland needed a people. Without a people, it was just a patch of earth” (Solomon, p. 82). This made me think about how important personal history is and how one single person can preserve their culture. This also raised some questions for me because who decides what a homeland is? Oori is still alive and she comes from that place, so would that not still be considered her homeland regardless if she is the last of her people?