The Penguin Book of Mermaids

by The Penguin Book of Mermaids (retail) (epub)

  The American, upon opening the door, was astonished at seeing a beautiful, scantily clad, voluptuous woman with jet-black floor-length hair standing at his doorway. The mermaid gazed at her paramour, who stood speechless at the magnificent sight before him. She leaned close to plant a kiss on his lips, the American, who found no harm in accepting a kiss from this peculiar maiden, removed his bandanna to meet her eager red lips. In less than a second, he knew her to be the vile repugnant creature whose odor rendered him unconscious.

  The mermaid, seeing the panic in his eyes, grabbed his legs and tried to drag him toward the water’s edge. In the middle of their scuffle, he pulled the rifle trigger and the strange woman instantly vanished before the silver bullet could pierce her scaly body. The American, frightened by this experience, quit his position, took the first ship back to the United States, and never returned to the Philippines.

  A Mermaid in Mabini1

  Regie Barcelona Villanueva’s grandfather, who grew up in Mabini, told him this tale about the mermaid of Mabini in Iloco, which Villanueva translated into English, and to which he added historical details. The events related in this account—a well-known, but until recently unpublished, legend—took place in 1832 in Mabini, a municipality in the province of Pangasinan in the Philippines. At that time, river fishermen believed that mermaids were pests that needed to be eradicated, which of course is in sharp contrast with other views of mermaids as lovely and gentle, or sexualized objects of desire. Residents refer to this mermaid as an engkantada (enchanted and enchantress, a being with magical powers), an apt description given that she has power over the waters of the sky and land. Significantly, this legend informs present-day Lent-related processions, which diverge from Church-sanctioned devotional practices, in Mabini: people believe that the mermaid joins the parade in the form of a woman. As such, it speaks to the power of folklore.

  In 1832, a great flood devastated the town Balincaguing (later called Mabini), to the extent that the Catholic Church, convent, and all other houses erected therein were under water.

  There was once a hole directly beneath the present altar of the town church. Some people discovered it during the time of the flood, and it’s been said that there was an underground river. The underground river, then, led you to the river where fishermen catch fish. One time, an “engkantada,” which was a mermaid, laid eggs in the underground river. But due to unfavorable circumstances, the mermaid’s eggs were found by a group of fishermen. Since they were convinced that the eggs were from a mermaid, they stole them and aborted the hatching of the eggs, believing that mermaids are a plague.

  Because of the mermaid’s wrath toward the cruel group of fishermen, she summoned the water in the sky and in the nearby river to devour the town. That time, the town was completely obliterated. Those who survived the catastrophe were told by the mermaid that they would never forget her wrath because she would forevermore take the life of one man every year in the river.

  Mabinians believe that the mermaid usually takes that life during the festival of the Cabinuangan neighborhood (which is the village next to the river), when one man drowns from bathing or swimming in the river.

  Also, even now, Mabinians still believe that the mermaid transfigures into a woman every Lenten season and joins the “libot” (procession). People also believe that the prettiest and fairest lady at the tail of the parade is the mermaid.

  —As told by Regie Barcelona Villanueva

  The Mermaid1

  This next folktale is from the island provinces of Cebu and Bohol in the Central Visayas region of the Philippines, and appears, as translator Erlinda K. Alburo notes, in a volume collecting for the most part oral and unpublished materials.2 Cebuano is one of the most widely spoken languages across the Philippines. Like some of the other accounts in our volume, this Cebuano story tells of the metamorphosis of a human into a water spirit; however, the catalyst in this case is not love or a curse, but a pregnant woman’s craving for milkfish. Pregnancy cravings are taken seriously in many cultures, lest the unborn child be harmed or physically marked in some way.

  Once there lived beside the sea a couple named Juan and Juana. For a long time they were childless. When Juana was at last with child, they were quite happy.

  But in her pregnancy, Juana would become very restless if she did not have milkfish to eat every day. So one afternoon, when Juan failed to catch any milkfish, he became very sad.

  Suddenly, Juan heard his name called. He was greatly surprised when he looked down and saw a shiny milkfish wearing a crown.

  The milkfish identified himself as the King of Fishes and he asked Juan: “Why do you fish only for milkfish?” Juan told him the reason, and his sorrow at the moment.

  The King of Fishes pitied Juan and promised “I’ll give you plenty of milkfish every day. But in return, you are to deliver your coming child to me when it turns seven years old.”

  Because it was already getting dark and since milkfish was becoming scarce that season, Juan finally agreed.

  The King of Fishes was true to his word. Even after Juana had given birth, Juan continued to bring home milkfish from the sea.

  Their child was a lovely girl with very black hair. They loved her and were very happy with her. They called her Maria.

  When Maria turned seven, Juan went out to see the King of Fishes and begged him: “Have pity on us. Can’t you possibly release me from my promise? We love Maria very much, and we can’t bear to part with her.” But the King of Fishes was firm, saying: “A promise is a promise.” With a heavy heart, Juan went home.

  Since that day, the couple and Maria never went near the sea.

  But one day, while Juan was on the farm and Juana was doing the laundry in the river, there came a big wonderful boat. The people immediately flocked to the shore to see it. Maria was alone at the time and was looking out the window. She became curious and joined the rest on the shore.

  While she was watching the wonderful boat, a big wave rushed up and dragged her to the sea.

  Immediately, the neighbors told her parents of the incident. Juan and Juana ran to the shore but they were too late. Maria was gone!

  Every evening after that, the couple would stand by the shore and stare at the deep. They kept hoping that Maria would return. Years passed and still they failed to see her.

  But one moonlight night, there appeared before the old couple a lovely creature. She had very long black hair, but—while half of her body was that of a beautiful girl, the other half was that of a milkfish.

  Then they knew that it was Maria, now a mermaid.

  A MER-WIFE IN NORTHERN AUSTRALIA

  Like the European mermaid, the Karukayn of northern Australia is human on top and fish below; however, with some effort, her fishtail is detachable, revealing human legs underneath. This story takes place in Gurindji country and concerns a young Gurindji man who sees two Karukayn sunning on the shore and decides to take one as his wife. However, catching her poses challenges: the area is teeming with freshwater crocodiles, and, as he discovers, the Karukayn is not docile, and puts up a struggle when he attempts to remove her tail. The man’s determination and ingenuity in overcoming these obstacles add an element of humor to the tale. As in many other mermaid-wife tales, the union of a human with a Karukayn proves only temporary, cautioning against marriage outside one’s social group.1

  Part of the Gurindji repertoire of yijarni, which translates as true stories, this tale speaks to beliefs that are not necessarily confined to the past, and the fear of being pulled underwater by a mermaid is real. The book’s epigraph is in the voice of Mr. Ronnie Wavehill, the teller of this mermaid story: “I’m telling the stories they told me: my father, my father’s father, my mother’s father and whoever else. They told me, ‘Keep these stories here and pass them on to anyone, whitefellas and all. Tell the stories! Don’t keep them to yourself!’ So it’s true what I’m telling you today, it’s sti
ll true today.”

  Karukayn (Mermaids)1

  Another story I’m going to tell you is about mermaids. It’s about one who got taken from the water by a man. He was single and he used to go hunting by himself. One day he was out in the high country, looking around for rock wallabies first. Then he went back home. The next day he went hunting again.

  ‘I might go hunting down by the river tomorrow,’ he was thinking. ‘Might get some fish or crocodile . . . might get a goanna — or anything like that there, riverside — turtle, or fish.’ He went along the banks, further and further, until he came out at a little spot and there he found them lying in the sun.

  ‘Here’s something!’ he was thinking. He spotted them from a long way away off: a couple of freshwater crocodiles warming themselves in the sun. Looking upstream, he muttered, ‘True! Crocodiles!’ As he looked he thought, ‘What on earth are those two black things lying there?’

  Two dark things were lying there amongst the crocodiles: two water-girls. Those two black bodies were mermaids. While he was watching them, one of them sat up and took a look around each way. She had really long hair, all the way down to here. (He points to his hip.) Both of them did, just like those bush girls. He could make out the long hair even as she was sitting.

  ‘Hey, they’re women! These are water-girls these two —karukayn, wait a minute here . . . How to get around to them? Hang on . . .’ Still watching, he saw one lying down and the other sitting up.

  ‘Two watchimicallits — two of those girls.’ He went right around, downstream. ‘Well, how can I get through — maybe this way? Or where?’ He came to a sudden stop, but just then a gust of wind blew and the girls could smell that someone was there, and they dived into the water. The crocodiles went in after them.

  ‘Well hang on. I’ll still wait for them,’ he was thinking. ‘I’ll wait it out and come back for them. After how long? Maybe three days? Three days and I’ll come back for them then.’

  ‘I’ll come back right here to the same place. I know where they are now, these karukayn. I’ve found them now and I’ll grab one of them and make her my wife.’

  He went back now, back to the camp, but he never told anybody, this man, about how he found those two mermaids. He just kept that news to himself. He stayed there.

  In the meantime he went hunting for kangaroo. ‘Leave it for now,’ he was thinking. ‘Let them forget about it first, and then . . . When to go back? Maybe after three days?’

  So he just kept going hunting and returning home to sleep, day after day. Then he decided, ‘Tomorrow I’ll go back.’

  ‘I’ll see them there downstream at the same crossing,’ he decided. Well, back he went, right back to the same place. Quietly all the way, he went back to the same place where he had seen them before. He spotted them: ‘True, true! Here they are.’ They were still there. ‘Well, there you go!’

  This time he went a really long way around, like from here to where the school is (about 100 metres). He kept his distance, that old man, well . . . young man. He was a grown man alright, but still young.

  Into the water, down he went, very slowly. Then he got some river grass with mud still on it and put it on his head like a big hat. The grass was hanging down over his face: ‘This will keep them from spotting me . . . Can’t let them find me.’

  He started moving very slowly towards them along the side of the riverbank. Only that nose of his was sticking out of the water, just enough to let him catch some air. Breathing carefully he went crawling along the riverbank, closer and closer. One of the women was sitting up. He didn’t move, and then she lay down again. Then very slowly, still lying low, he went crawling along again.

  One girl was looking all around where they were sitting, but she never thought to look to her north to the water. She kept looking from that sunny spot up and through the bush to the east. There was no reason to look to the water! They wouldn’t find him sitting in the water. ‘She won’t be looking over this way.’

  The crocodiles were there too. He kept moving quietly, closer and closer, really slowly. He had that hat-like thing on his head, the mud with the grass he’d pulled out. He was just hiding behind the grass hanging down over his face. What if a little wave came along and washed away his disguise? He went floating along, quietly, that man, with only his eyes peeping through the grass hanging down.

  He kept going along . . . the other mermaid sat up. That first one was still there looking over her shoulder—he was keeping very quiet—one karukayn was lying down a bit closer. He kept moving on in the water—slowly all the way.

  Almost . . . he was just about there—but what if the water took his grass disguise away now? That grass could go with a little wave—and then the two of them would see there’s a man underneath—a man sneaking along in the water. One mermaid sat up and was glancing over her shoulder, scanning around, and then she lay down again. He kept moving—not far now—he was in shallow water. He took hold of the grass and slowly took it off; he got up and started walking.

  Right! Spotted by the crocodiles! The crocodiles went scuttling down the bank and dived into the water. The two girls leapt up and then he did too. He ran and started grabbing at them.

  ‘Here now, here.’ That young fella went for one girl, but she pushed him away; pushed him back. He grabbed her body then and dragged her up the riverbank: dragging her up towards the top. She was struggling and wanted to get into the water, diving here and there, but he was strong, and he picked her up and carried her in his arms to the top of the bank.

  He got firesticks and started rolling them between his hands to get the fire going to smoke her tail off. To hold her he made a shallow hole in the ground where he kept her tied down and propped up. The fish tail can come off as one piece. Mermaids get it when they go in the water and it makes them swim fast like a fish. With the working of the firesticks, the flames appeared and he put some river gum leaves on top; they’re good for smoking. Meanwhile below, the fire caught alight.

  He put a cover of river gum leaves on the fire and held her in the smoke. She was writhing around: wrestling with him, trying to get away. But he was strong, that man. She couldn’t get away from him. He put her lying face down to let the smoke go all around her. He kept smoking her, while she was yelling out and squirming around. He kept smoking her properly, all around, turning her this way and that. Then the tail started to come off. Those karukayn tails, they’re like a fish tail, but they’re detachable, you can take them off just like clothes. Well, he took the tail off and found she had legs underneath, just like a person. Like the legs that people have, she had legs, but the tail was on the outside to make her move quickly through the water. He pulled it off.

  He kept smoking her all round, smoking her head and her ears; he kept turning her around to make sure she was alright, smoking everything. Okay, she should be right now. She could stand up and walk. He took her hand and led her off to the camp.

  He took her back and they saw him. ‘Hey, he’s got a woman!’ ‘Where’s he been keeping that woman?’ ‘I thought he’s supposed to be a single man, that bloke,’ they all talked at once.

  ‘Wow, light skin like a pilyingpilying!’ That woman had long hair all the way down her back: past her back. She had long hair like a bush girl.

  ‘I found her.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘She’s a mermaid.’

  ‘Really? Where did you get her?’

  ‘Over that way,’ he said.

  ‘Many more there?’

  ‘Nah, only two. One of them dived into the water. This is the younger one, the other one was . . . you know. I got the young one.’

  ‘Ah, yeah, okay.’

  ‘Well, keep her now and don’t take her back near the water now; no river or spring, anywhere like that . . .’

  ‘Nah, I’ll keep her with me.’

  Well, he took her everywhere, all around, but
not down to the river, till she understood. He kept her with him all the time, until she was used to him. She recognised him as her husband and they stayed together for some time.

  They still used to tell him, ‘Well don’t take her back to the water you know, that kind of woman might leave you.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I can take her to the river if I want to, no reason not to. She accepts me as her husband: this is my wife.’

  ‘Is that right!’ they said. ‘We’re talking to you from experience, you know. They used to get that kind of girl before. You want to keep her in the bush all the time, until she’s had a baby. You know she doesn’t have any kids yet! Don’t take her to the river, or else she’ll leave you.’

  ‘No, she won’t leave me: she’s accepted me. You’ve seen us go everywhere together. She can’t leave me now, why would she? She’s my wife.’

  ‘We’re talking to you for your own good, young man, we’re just telling you how it is. We’ve seen this kind of thing before. If you take her down to the river, she’ll leave you; she’ll just dive off into the water.’

  ‘Rubbish, you can ask her yourself. I can take her anywhere, even down to the water,’ he said.

  ‘Well okay, but we’re just giving you good advice. It’s alright, we’ll not mention it again.’

  They went down to the river then, that man and his mermaid wife, just to look around, just go hunting, and they got a goanna. They made a camp by the side of the big river and cooked it.

  That girl was looking at something. ‘That might be my place . . .’ She was looking at the spot down under the water. ‘Down there, that could be my home.’ It might have been near where he grabbed her in the first place.

  A little while later the man was walking around the camp, when suddenly the woman began running. Run-run-running she went, and dived into the water—no sign of her any’where. He was broken-hearted.