Mermaid

This is Fab Figmentals, the podcast that explores the realm of curious creatures, magical monsters, and beautiful beasts. I’m your host, Lindsey Morse. 

On each episode of Fab Figmentals, we dive into the folklore and history of a different legendary creature and share a story about it. 

Today, we’ll be looking at mermaids. Unlike some of the creatures we’ve covered on past episodes, like rakshasas, U Thlen, the rukh, and baku, I think it’s safe to say that mermaids are a household name. You’ve probably heard plenty of stories about them, and I’m certain I don’t need to paint you a picture of their human-top, fish-bottom bodies. 

But if you’re like me, and you grew up with Disney or Hans Christian Anderson’s fairy tale-take on these famous creatures, you might only know part of the story. Not all mermaids are stunning sea-dwellers with a heart of gold.

The idea of Mermaids most likely grew out of classical mythology and the silver-tongued sirens that were thought to live near the island of Capri. These dangerous aquatic creatures were said to possess song so beautiful it would enchant sailors and lure them into a futile search for the bewitching melody. A search that often ended in shipwreck and death. 

This is particularly interesting, I think, when you consider that Ariel, our favorite friendly fish-girl, had to give up her tongue and beautiful singing voice in exchange for for human legs. 

But most mermaid stories have more of an edge. Traditional folktales and legends blame merfolk for shipwrecks, floods, drowning, and storms. 

And today, we’ll see that they’re also sometimes people-snatchers. 

The story I’m going to read for you in a minute is called “The Mermaid and the Boy.” It originally hails from Scandinavia and was collected by Josef Calasanz in 1886. This english version is from Andrew Lang’s The Brown Fairy Book, which was published in 1904. 

The full story is a little too long for our program, so I’ve trimmed it down for length. I haven’t taken out anything that affects the overall plot or outcome, but I always like to tell you when I’ve made any changes. If you fall in love with this story and want to read the non-abridged version, I highly recommend you do. 

Now, here’s “The Mermaid and the Boy.”

*****

Long, long ago, there lived a king who ruled over a country by the sea. When he had been married about a year, some of his subjects, inhabiting a distant group of islands, revolted against his laws, and it became needful for him to leave his wife and go in person to settle their disputes. The queen feared that some ill would come of it, and implored him to stay at home, but he told her that nobody could do his work for him, and the next morning the sails were spread, and the king started on his voyage.

The vessel had not gone very far when she ran upon a rock, and stuck so fast in a cleft that the strength of the whole crew could not get her off again. To make matters worse, the wind was rising too, and it was quite plain that in a few hours the ship would be dashed to pieces and everybody would be drowned, when suddenly the form of a mermaid was seen dancing on the waves which threatened every moment to overwhelm them.

‘There is only one way to free yourselves,’ she said to the king, bobbing up and down in the water as she spoke, ‘and that is to give me your solemn word that you will deliver to me the first child that is born to you.’

The king hesitated at this proposal. He hoped that some day he might have children in his home, and the thought that he must yield up the heir to his crown was very bitter to him; but just then a huge wave broke with great force on the ship’s side, and his men fell on their knees and entreated him to save them.

So he promised, and this time a wave lifted the vessel clean off the rocks, and she was in the open sea once more.

The affairs of the islands took longer to settle than the king had expected, and some months passed away before he returned to his palace. In his absence a son had been born to him, and so great was his joy that he quite forgot the mermaid and the price he had paid for the safety of his ship. But as the years went on, and the baby grew into a fine big boy, the remembrance of it came back, and one day he told the queen the whole story. From that moment the happiness of both their lives was ruined. Every night they went to bed wondering if they should find his room empty in the morning, and every day they kept him by their sides, expecting him to be snatched away before their very eyes.

At last the king felt that this state of things could not continue, and he said to his wife:

‘After all, the most foolish thing in the world one can do is to keep the boy here in exactly the place in which the mermaid will seek him. Let us give him food and send him on his travels, and perhaps, if the mermaid ever does come to seek him, she may be content with some other child.’ And the queen agreed that his plan seemed the wisest.

So the boy was called, and his father told him the story of the voyage, as he had told his mother before him. The prince listened eagerly, and was delighted to think that he was to go away all by himself to see the world, and was not in the least frightened; for though he was now sixteen, he had scarcely been allowed to walk alone beyond the palace gardens. He began busily to make his preparations, and took off his smart velvet coat, putting on instead one of green cloth, while he refused a beautiful bag which the queen offered him to hold his food, and slung a leather knapsack over his shoulders instead, just as he had seen other travellers do. Then he bade farewell to his parents and went his way.

All through the day he walked, watching with interest the strange birds and animals that darted across his path in the forest or peeped at him from behind a bush. But as evening drew on he became tired, and looked about as he walked for some place where he could sleep. At length he reached a soft mossy bank under a tree, and was just about to stretch himself out on it, when he head he heard a great buzzing as a bumblebee alighted on a honeysuckle branch. ‘What are you doing here?’ asked the bee in a cross voice; ‘at your age you ought to be safe at home.’

‘I am running away from the mermaid,’ replied the boy; but the bee was one to never listen to the answers to their questions, and only said: ‘I am hungry. Give me something to eat.’

The boy took his loaf and flask out of his knapsack and laid them on the ground, and they had supper together. ‘Well, now I am going to sleep,’ observed the bee when the last crumb was gone, ‘but as you are not very big I can make room for you beside me,’ and he curled up his wings, and tucked in his legs, and he and the prince both slept soundly till morning. Then the bee got up and carefully brushed every scrap of dust off his velvet coat and buzzed loudly in the boy’s ear to waken him.

‘Take a single hair from one of my wings,’ said he, ‘and if you are in danger just wish yourself a bee and you will become one. One good turn deserves another, so farewell, and thank you for your supper.’ And the bee departed after the boy had pulled out the hair and wrapped it carefully in a leaf.

‘It must feel quite different to be a bee,’ thought the boy to himself when he had walked for an hour or two. ‘I dare say I should get on a great deal faster,’ so he pulled out his hair and wished himself a bee.

In a moment the strangest thing happened to him. All his limbs seemed to draw together, and his body to become very short and round; his head grew quite tiny, and instead of his white skin he was covered with the richest, softest velvet. Better than all, he had two lovely gauze wings which carried him the whole day without getting tired.

Late in the afternoon the boy fancied he saw a vast heap of stones a long way off, and he flew straight towards it. But when he reached the gates he saw that it was really a great town, so he wished himself back in his own shape and entered the city.

He found the palace doors wide open and went boldly into a sort of hall which was full of people, and where men and maids were gossiping together. He joined their talk and soon learned from them that the king had only one daughter who had such a hatred to men that she would never suffer one to enter her presence. Her father was in despair, and had had pictures painted of the handsomest princes of all the courts in the world, in the hope that she might fall in love with one of them; but it was no use; the princess would not even allow the pictures to be brought into her room.

‘It is late,’ remarked one of the women at last; ‘I must go to my mistress.’ And, turning to one of the lackeys, she bade him find a bed for the youth.

‘It is not necessary,’ answered the prince, ‘this bench is good enough for me. I am used to nothing better.’ And when the hall was empty he lay down for a few minutes. But as soon as everything was quiet in the palace he took out the hair and wished himself a bee, and in this shape he flew upstairs, past the guards, and through the keyhole into the princess’s chamber. Then he turned himself into a man again.

At this dreadful sight the princess, who was broad awake, began to scream loudly. ‘A man! a man!’ cried she; but when the guards rushed in there was only a bumblebee buzzing about the room. They looked under the bed, and behind the curtains, and into the cupboards, then came to the conclusion that the princess had had a bad dream, and bowed themselves out. The door had scarcely closed on them than the bee disappeared, and a handsome youth stood in his place.

‘I knew a man was hidden somewhere,’ cried the princess, and screamed more loudly than before. Her shrieks brought back the guards, but though they looked in all kinds of impossible places no man was to be seen, and so they told the princess.

‘He was here a moment ago—I saw him with my own eyes,’ and the guards dared not contradict her, though they shook their heads and whispered to each other that the princess had gone mad on this subject, and saw a man in every table and chair. And they made up their minds that—let her scream as loudly as she might— they would take no notice.

Now the princess saw clearly what they were thinking, and that in future her guards would give her no help, and would perhaps, besides, tell some stories about her to the king, who would shut her up in a lonely tower and prevent her walking in the gardens among her birds and flowers. So when, for the third time, she beheld the prince standing before her, she did not scream but sat up in bed gazing at him in silent terror.

‘Do not be afraid,’ he said, ‘I shall not hurt you’; and he began to praise her gardens, of which he had heard the servants speak, and the birds and flowers which she loved, till the princess’s anger softened, and she answered him with gentle words. Indeed, they soon became so friendly that she vowed she would marry no one else, and confided to him that in three days her father would be off to the wars, leaving his sword in her room. If any man could find it and bring it to him he would receive her hand as a reward. At this point a cock crowed, and the youth jumped up hastily saying: ‘Of course I shall ride with the king to the war, and if I do not return, take your violin every evening to the seashore and play on it, so that the very sea-kobolds who live at the bottom of the ocean may hear it and come to you.’

Just as the princess had foretold, in three days the king set out for the war with a large following, and among them was the young prince, who had presented himself at court as a young noble in search of adventures. They had left the city many miles behind them, when the king suddenly discovered that he had forgotten his sword, and though all his attendants instantly offered theirs, he declared that he could fight with none but his own.

‘The first man who brings it to me from my daughter’s room,’ cried he, ‘shall not only have her to wife, but after my death shall reign in my stead.’

At this, the young prince and several more turned their horses to ride as fast as the wind back to the palace, but he easily outstripped them, and soon reached the gates of the palace. Here he hastily changed himself into a bee, and flew straight into the princess’s room, where he became a man again. She showed him where the sword hung concealed behind a curtain, and he took it down, saying as he did so: ‘Be sure not to forget what you have promised to do.’

The princess made no reply, but smiled sweetly, and slipping a golden ring from her finger she broke it in two and held half out silently to the prince, while the other half she put in her own pocket. He kissed it, and ran down the stairs bearing the sword with him.

The day was hot and the prince was thirsty. Perceiving a little stream that ran into the sea, he turned aside, and, unbuckling the sword, flung himself on the ground for a long drink. Unluckily, the mermaid happened at that moment to be floating on the water not very far off, and knew he was the boy who had been given her before he was born. So she floated gently in to where he was lying, she seized him by the arm, and the waves closed over them both. 

The war was soon over, and the king returned to his people, who welcomed him with shouts of joy. But when the princess from a window saw that her betrothed was not among the attendants riding behind her father, her heart sank, for she knew that some evil must have befallen him. 

It was growing dark when the princess, tired out with all she had gone through, stole up to her own room for a little quiet. But the moon was shining so brightly over the sea that it seemed to draw her towards it, and taking her violin under her arm, she crept down to the shore.

‘Listen! listen! said the mermaid to the prince, who was lying stretched on a bed of seaweeds at the bottom of the sea. ‘Listen! that is your old love playing, for mermaids know everything that happens upon earth.’

‘I hear nothing,’ answered the youth, who did not look happy. ‘ Take me up higher, where the sounds can reach me.’

So the mermaid took him on her shoulders and bore him up midway to the surface. ‘Can you hear now?’ she asked.

‘No,’ answered the prince, ‘I hear nothing but the water rushing; I must go higher still.’

Then the mermaid carried him to the very top. ‘You must surely be able to hear now?’ said she.

‘Nothing but the water,’ repeated the youth. So she took him right to the land.

‘At any rate you can hear now?’ she said again.

‘The water is still rushing in my ears,’ answered he; ‘ but wait a little, that will soon pass off.’ And as he spoke he put his hand into his breast, and seizing the hair wished himself a bee, and flew straight into the pocket of the princess. The mermaid looked in vain for him, and floated all night upon the sea; but he never came back, and never more did he gladden her eyes. 

The princess returned quickly to the palace, where the young man at once resumed his own shape. Oh, what joy filled her heart at the sight of him! 

‘Was it he who fetched the sword?’ asked the king.

‘Yes, it was,’ answered the princess; and she told him the whole story, and how she had broken her gold ring and given him half of it. And the prince took out his half of the ring, and the princess took out hers, and they fitted exactly. 

The next day there was a marriage feast for the prince and princess.

*****

And they all lived happily ever after. 

Except for the mermaid, right? 

But mermaids in these classic stories don’t often get the happy ending treatment. Unlike Ariel in The Little Mermaid, the mermaids in classic fairy tales are usually the bad guy of the story. And most audiences know better than to cheer for monsters. 

As I mentioned at the top of the episodes, mermaids were often believed to bring danger to sailors who encountered them, but this wasn’t a fear that existed only in storybooks. 

In 1493, Christopher Columbus claimed a mermaid sighting off the coast of Hispaniola, now widely believed to be a manatee encounter. His one takeaway? They weren’t as beautiful as he was expecting. 

Later, the English explorer Henry Hudson and pirate Blackbeard both also claimed to see mermaids in the wild, but in this case they were less focused on their appearance and more on getting the heck out of there, concerned they might bring bad luck or— in the case of Blackbeard— steal all the gold. 

These reports spread like wildfire until there was a widespread belief that mermaids were either definitely real or at the very least could be real. 

Showmen and hoaxsters like jumped on this opportunity, and added mummified mermaid specimens to their exhibitions and traveling displays. These spectacles became so popular that they sparked an entire fake mermaid industry; manufacturers in China and the Malay archipelago created them from the parts of fish and monkeys and they were scooped up by Dutch traders to be sold abroad. 

Visitors may have flocked to see evidence of real mermaids, but there’s no evidence to support claims that any of these were more than a hoax. And scientists have more or less spelled out that there’s no way they can— or could have ever— existed. Their mix of physical attributes simply does not match up with our evolutionary understanding.

But we humans have never been quite ready to let mermaids go, and to this day— if you’re willing to suspend your disbelief for a few hours— there’s a place where you can go to see them in the wild. 

Weeki Wachee Springs, in the town of Weeki Wachee in central Florida, has been delighting audiences with their mermaid show since 1947. From behind a glass wall in an aquatic theater, visitors can watch beautiful mermaids with technicolor tails perform an underwater ballet. 

The mermaids who perform at Weeki Watchee, all certified divers and often college students looking to make some part-time income, can get really into it. An children who attend the show often ask employees if the mermaids they’re watching behind the glass are real. 

Says the park’s PR director: “ Just like with Santa Claus or any other mythical character… we always say yes… Whatever you believe becomes true. [and] if you ask me, they do exist.” 

*****

Thank you so much for listening to this episode of Fab Figmentals.

Research, writing, and sound editing are done by me, Lindsey Morse. Our theme music was created by Graeme Ronald.

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Do you have a suggestion for a future episode? Or maybe just want to reach out and say hi? You can get in touch with me via our website, FabFigmentals.com, or on Twitter @figmentals. I’d love to hear from you.

We’ll be back in two weeks with a special holiday episode. I don’t want to spoil the surprise just yet, but I’m working on something that I think will be a lot of fun. 

We’ll see you next time.