Mermaids Page 2
Women sometimes report seeing mermaids, but mostly it’s men who spot them. And though mermen have been sighted throughout the centuries, mermaids make up the vast majority of these mysterious sea beings—at least according to legends and recorded accounts. Thus, Jungian analysts might describe mermaids as symbols of the anima, desirable, yet frightening, and infinitely fascinating as they emerge from the secret depths of the subconscious.
Could our current fascination with mermaids signify a resurgence of feminine power at the end of the Age of Pisces (the sign astrologers connect with the sea)? Mermaids are not only alluring; they’re also agents of life and death. Just as Ariel, the little mermaid in the Disney film, rescues the shipwrecked prince, mermaids may have shown up to redeem a world mankind has brought to the brink of ruin.
We may also be connected to mermaids in a physical way as well. Science tells us that mermaids’ oceanic home is also the source of human life—we all started out as aquatic creatures eons ago. As embryos, we developed from fish-like beings in the salty amniotic fluid of our mothers’ wombs, in order to finally become Homo sapiens. If that’s so, perhaps we share a similar ancestry with these mysterious and alluring water spirits. Maybe there’s a bit of merfolk in all of us.
“Mermaids and other female water spirits have appeared in folklore and religions around the world for many centuries. They may be viewed as symbols both of men’s idealization of the feminine and of men’s fear of women.”
—Professor Jonathan Cheek, “The Mermaid Myth”
The Sirens’ Song
Mermaids are notorious for enchanting male sailors with their beauty and irresistible singing voices—and then luring the bedazzled men to watery graves. In Homer’s 3,000-year-old epic poem Odyssey, the hero, Odysseus, is lashed to the mast of his ship to prevent him from jumping overboard when he hears the Sirens’ seductive voices, and his sailors stuff wax in their ears for protection.
Modern mermaids, however, have relinquished their devastating power over men. Yes, they still sing, but their songs are upbeat and pleasing instead of mesmerizingly murderous. Still sexy, but hardly siren-like, today’s comely creatures are fun-loving and flirtatious rather than frightening. In TV commercials they prefer to entice men into buying beer or blue jeans rather than dragging them down into the ocean’s depths.
In short, the mermaid has become a merchandising tool. Retail stores and online shops offer mermaid outfits for little girls—and grownups, too. You can buy mermaid lunchboxes, beach towels, jewelry, dishes, sheets, and Christmas tree ornaments, to name a few. Hollywood and Madison Avenue have tamed the mermaid. Her mystique has diminished, partly because she’s omnipresent now instead of rare. Today’s mermaid could be the girl next door (except for her fins, of course). Unlike her sultry, siren ancestors, the modern mermaid is safe—and it seems we prefer her that way.
Fanciful Fins
Maybe you weren’t born a mermaid, but don’t let that stop you from fulfilling your fantasy. These days anybody can become a mermaid—well, at least you can look like one. The first order of business is acquiring a mermaid tail. Online stores offer plenty of options for wannabe mermaids of all ages—and in all price ranges. Some of these fishy appendages can be worn in the water, like swimsuits. Others are designed specifically to attract attention on land.
Most mermaid tails these days are made from neoprene, nylon spandex, silicone, or urethane—alas, real scales and fins don’t last long out of water. And today’s faux fins afford plenty of bling. Sequins, pretty beads, and gossamer glitz are de rigueur among fashionable mermaids. Most tails slip on like long, tight skirts and some come with separate, attachable dorsal fins that you can use to propel yourself around the pool.
Of course, color is a consideration when it comes to choosing the right tail for you. Most mermaid tails take their inspiration from the sea itself and greens, blues, and watery shades predominate. But if you prefer purple, red, or yellow tails you won’t be disappointed—there’s something for everyone.
Depending on your finances, you can purchase a basic mermaid tail for about $60—or you can order custom-made extremities that run in the thousands of dollars. You can even rent a fishtail if masquerading as a mermaid is only a passing fancy. For more information, visit http://mermaidtails.net for a listing of mermaid tails and other accouterments for sale.
“Sunlight cascaded through the blue. I twisted and my hair swirled out around me in tentacles of burgundy. As I twisted I saw a tail as green as a band of emeralds and realized it was mine.”
—Kathleen Valentine, The Old Mermaid’s Tale
CHAPTER 2
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WHAT DO Mermaids Look Like?
WHEN YOU PICTURE A MERMAID, what do you see? A mythical creature whose head and body, from the pelvis up, resemble that of a gorgeous human female? A creature with long, flowing hair, smooth skin, and full, shapely breasts? A beauty who, from the pelvis down, sports the greenish, scaly tail of a fish? This general description covers the most basic characteristics we’ve come to associate with mermaids over the centuries—but various cultures in different times and places have put their own spins on these seagoing, hybrid beauties. Some mermaids are innocently beautiful, others are terrifyingly seductive. What does the true mermaid look like? Let’s find out.
Fish Tales
“That sea-maid’s form, of pearly light,
Was whiter than the downy spray,
And round her bosom, heaving bright,
Her glossy, yellow ringlets play.”
—from John Leyden’s nineteenth-century ballad, “The Mermaid”
Although we’re used to thinking of mermaids as beautiful, myth and folklore tell us that this wasn’t always the case. The Speculum Regale, a thirteenth-century Norwegian text (also called the King’s Mirror), described mermaids as Neanderthal-like beasts with fishtails and scales on their lower bodies, large webbed hands, terrifying faces, wide mouths, and wrinkled cheeks—hardly the comely creatures we think of today!
The ancient Babylonian god Ea (or Oannes) initially appeared on the scene wearing a cloak made of fish scales; later images show him as a half-man, half-fish merman. Pliny the Elder, who lived in Italy during the first century C.E., wrote some of the earliest “scientific” accounts of mermaids in his extensive compilation Natural History—he described them as “rough and scaled all over.”
The Assyrian goddess Atargatis, who legend says became our first mermaid, is depicted on ancient coins as a fish standing upright on its tail and wearing the head of a human woman. Some early artwork shows her with two legs as well as a tail.
The Roman poet Ovid described the Greek merman, Triton, as having the upper body of a human and the tail of a fish, but his shoulders were “barnacled with sea-shells.” The infamous Greek Sirens, whose enchanting songs lured seamen to their deaths, started off as bird-women, and only later exchanged their feathers for fishtails. Other sources report merfolk as lacking scales and tails altogether.
Siren Sightings
In July 1833, six fishermen off Scotland’s Isle of Yell hauled aboard a mermaid who had become tangled in their lines. The men described her as being about three feet in length with “bristles extending from her head to her shoulders that could be raised or lowered.” Other notations concerning the incident added that the mermaid lacked scales, fins, or gills. The skipper told the story to a Mr. Edmondson who repeated it to a Natural History Professor at the University of Edinburgh. When all was said and done it had been decided that it was “quite impossible” for six Shetland fishermen to mistake another type of sea-creature for a mermaid.
Tailless Water Maidens
The numerous water nymphs who populated ancient Greek mythology had the lush, two-legged bodies of young human females, rather than the fishy lower parts of the mermaids we know today—which were perhaps inspired by these nymphs. Without the encumbrance of a fish’s tail, these nubile nymphs could freely cavort with males, both human and divine—a pastime their sca
ly successors were anatomically forced to forego. These nymphs’ “fish” ties instead were expressed via association, such as their penchant for riding on dolphins.
The same fishy connection shows up in early images and descriptions of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love from whom some sources suggest mermaids evolved. Often this beautiful, woman-like deity is depicted with her companion, a sacred dolphin. However, her male escorts, the Tritons, featured fishtails below their waists. Aphrodite’s Roman counterpart, Venus, always appears as a lovely, human-shaped goddess. In Botticelli’s famous fifteenth-century painting Birth of Venus (now in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy) she emerges from the sea as a nude, smooth-skinned, adult female, borne on the waves in an open scallop shell, suggesting another type of link between human and sea creature.
The water spirits known as ondines also lacked scales, fins, or other fishy attributes—though like the water nymphs, they sometimes traveled on the backs of dolphins or large fish. In A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Shakespeare’s character Oberon speaks of seeing a mermaid riding on the back of a dolphin. Shakespearean scholars propose that the Bard might have been referring to Mary Queen of Scots, who married the Dauphin (dolphin) of France.
IN SEARCH OF ONDINES
In his 1928 tome The Secret Teachings of All Ages, Manly P. Hall wrote that according to ancient sources, “In general, nearly all the undines [ondines] closely resembled human beings in appearance and size, though the ones inhabiting small streams and fountains were of correspondingly lesser proportions. It was believed that these water spirits were occasionally capable of assuming the appearance of normal human beings and actually associating with men and women.”
Mermaids in Art
Ever since artists first painted on papyrus scrolls, they’ve chosen mermaids as subjects. From the frozen Arctic regions to the salubrious South Sea Islands, people have depicted their conceptions of mermaids in wood, stone, bone, cloth, and metal. In some cases, creating an image of a mermaid served talismanic purposes. Sailors carved wooden figureheads of mermaids and attached them to the prows of their ships to provide protection during sea voyages. Those who practice Vodou fashion shimmering mermaid banners from sequins to attract prosperity and love. In some cultures, people sought the magic of mermaids to help them catch fish, bring rain, or heal the sick.
Mermaids from different parts of the world bear many similarities—fishy attributes, long flowing hair, and the upper bodies of beautiful young women. But there are differences, too. In Africa, India, and Australia, mermaids sometimes sport the tails of snakes, lizards, or even crocodiles instead of fish. Some early mermaids had two tails, or a split tail that resolved the question of how can mermaids have sex.
Of course, the mermaid’s sultry sexuality is her most enticing quality—and it’s the rare mermaid who doesn’t tempt and tantalize. Most likely, this seductiveness evolved from the early fertility and creator goddesses, who not accidentally ruled over the waters of the world. And it’s this seductiveness that caused the mermaid’s popularity as a subject for artwork to burgeon during the Victorian period, despite the puritanical attitudes of the time. Mermaids gave artists a sexy subject to paint when social norms repressed sex—and gentlemen collectors liked looking at naked ladies hanging on their walls. In fact, many of our present-day ideas about what mermaids look like come from the paintings of that era.
MYSTERIOUS MERMAIDS
In 1899, noted Austrian artist Gustav Klimt painted mermaids—but his water spirits bear no resemblance to the half-woman, half-fish beauties with which we’re familiar. Instead they look like women’s faces peering out from dark body bags and convey the sinister side of these mysterious beings.
Artists’ Influence
“Beauty seems to be the keynote of the water spirits. Wherever we find them pictured in art or sculpture, they abound in symmetry and grace.”
—Manly P. Hall, The Secret Teachings of All Ages
During the Victorian period, mermaids captured the imagination of painters who portrayed them as lush, lovely creatures who captivated art collectors just as they had captivated seafarers for centuries. The paintings of Victorian-era artists such as John William Waterhouse and Frederic Leighton helped to form our ideas of what mermaids look like. These lush, romantic pictures blend tantalizing sensuality with the prudishness of the time period; at a time when human women concealed their charms beneath layers of clothing, mermaids openly displayed theirs with tantalizing abandon. But no matter how enticing a mermaid may be, her tail—the ultimate chastity belt—prevented her from engaging in sexual relations with human men.
Not all artists saw fit to portray mermaids with the familiar fish-below-the-waist bodies. In 1896, Edvard Munch (best known for his haunting picture The Scream) painted his Mermaid with a mostly human form—her fishy tail starts at her knees. John William Waterhouse’s sultry The Siren wears scales only from her calves down. In René Magritte’s The Forbidden Universe, the mermaid’s tail extends a bit further up her legs, but only to mid-thigh, leaving her pertinent parts exposed and accessible. These depictions slyly sidestep the idea of enforced chasteness and hint at the possibility of coupling with human males. Magritte’s earlier picture, Collective Invention, turns the tables on the mermaid myth—it features a hybrid creature with the upper body of a fish and the lower body of a woman!
JOHN WILLIAM WATERHOUSE’S A MERMAID
Early representations of the African Mami Wata (see Chapter 8) show the familiar mermaid form. But all that changed after German artist Felix Schlesinger’s Art Nouveau chromolithograph, Der Schlagenbandinger appeared. It depicted a sensual, black-haired, dark-skinned snake charmer with an anaconda wrapped around her shapely, woman’s body—and so Mami Wata continues to be envisioned today.
SIREN SLANG
During the 1700s and 1800s, the terms “mermaid” and “siren” served as code words for prostitutes.
Seaside Shapeshifting
The folklore of many cultures portrays merfolk as shapeshifters who can magically transform themselves from fish-tailed hybrids into two-legged humans. Some of these beings are said to live among people for extended periods of time, forming families and raising children with human mates—who may or may not realize their true natures.
The selkies can change into seals.
The legends of Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and the Shetland and Faroe islands speak of selkies or seal people who don the skins of seals in order to glide through the ocean. When they decide to come ashore—usually to take human lovers—selkies remove their sealskins and walk on land as ordinary women. Should a man discover and take possession of a selkie’s pelt, he can prevent her from returning to the sea.
A SELKIE SECRET
The 1994 movie The Secret of Roan Inish, directed by John Sayles, tells the story of a selkie trapped by a fisherman who steals her sealskin to keep her on land with him. The mixed couple bears children together, but she longs for the sea. When she finds the sealskin her husband hid from her, she realizes she’s been tricked and returns to her home in the ocean.
The nixes can transform themselves into humans, animals, fish, or reptiles.
According to Teutonic legends, the nixes (or nixies) could change shape at will, taking on the forms of humans, fish, or snakes. Jacob Grimm—one-half of the Brothers Grimm of fairy-tale fame—believed these water spirits to be higher beings who sometimes assumed the bodies of animals or people. When in human form, Grimm said a nixie could be recognized by a small slit in the ear or the wet hem of her skirt.
The yawkyawks can shapeshift into dragonflies.
The yawkyawks, said to inhabit the sacred waterholes of Australia, usually fit the conventional image of mermaids, except their long, green hair looks like seaweed. At night, however, these shapeshifters walk the land on human legs or assume the shape of dragonflies if they want to flit about.
It seems these fluid females aren’t locked into a specific form or locale—they can look or move about as they please.
Their changeable nature simply adds intrigue and appeal.
A MOVIE MERMAID
The 1984 comedy Splash, starring Daryl Hannah, gives the mermaid’s shapeshifting nature a new twist. In the movie, when her fishtail dries, it transforms into a woman’s legs.
Undersea Curiosity
Many mermaids seem as intrigued with humans as we are with them—that’s why they venture onto land to interact with people. Irish tales speak of the merrows, or moruachs, whose curiosity about the human world leads them to take on completely human forms so they can mingle with people undetected. Residents of the Orkney Islands, off Scotland’s northeast tip, warn of dangerous shapeshifters known as finfolk. These creatures disguise themselves as beautiful women or fishermen in order to come on land and capture unwitting victims, whom they take to their underwater lands as slaves. Old Norse and Germanic myths describe a male water spirit known as a Fosse-Grim, a virtuoso violinist whose music attracts human women to him. Supposedly, he can transform himself into animals, fish, or floating objects if he wishes.
In mermaid myths, transformation is a key theme. Does the shift from water spirit to human, described in so many stories, symbolize our own evolution from creatures of the sea to human beings—and our own longing to return to the source from which we came? You see, although mermaids straddle the worlds of nature and civilization, they frequently seem ill at ease when living among humans. They may come ashore to mate with mortal men, but after a time they pine for their watery homes and eventually return to the sea. The reverse situation occurs in Matthew Arnold’s Victorian poem “The Forsaken Merman.” In it a human mother leaves her merman husband and their children in the sea and goes back to live again on land. Like humans, mermaids want to see and experience different places. But in the end, they, too, get homesick, and it’s the rare mermaid who leaves the sea forever.