The Mermaid Handbook

MÉLUSINE, UNDINE, and THE LITTLE MERMAID

Mélusine’s secret discovered, from Le Roman de Mélusine by Jean d’Arras, c.1450–1500.

Wikimedia Commons

THE MERMAID’S STARRY AND ETHEREAL BEAUTY, glamour, and unattainability have long captured our imaginations, with stories about her an inherent part of oral traditions worldwide. Throughout time, she’s appeared in literary blockbusters including The Odyssey, The Divine Comedy, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Arabian Nights, and The Faerie Queene. In the three classic works here, each of which has influenced legions of writers and been told and retold numerous times, the mermaid takes center stage—and proves, once and for all, that literary mermaids should steer well away from human men, no matter how handsome or royal, as no good can come of it.

MÉLUSINE The story of the mermaid Mélusine existed in the French oral folk tradition throughout the Middle Ages. But it was Frenchman Jean d’Arras who collected its variants and put the story onto paper in 1393. His tale Chronique de Mélusine, also known as Mélusine; or, The Noble History of Lusignan, is now considered a definitive fourteenth-century romance: d’Arras wrote Mélusine for Jean de Berry, the brother of King Charles V of France, in part to show the magnificent lineage of the waning Lusignan dynasty.

The story goes that Elinas, the king of Albany (Scotland), is out hunting one day when he comes upon a spring in the wood. As he approaches, he sees a stunning woman who tells him her name is Pressina. They ultimately marry, although Pressina imposes one condition upon her betrothed: that he should never visit when she is either birthing or bathing their children. Not long after, Pressina gives birth to triplets, three daughters whom she names Melior, Palatina, and Mélusine. Elinas is overjoyed and, without thinking, bursts into the chamber where Pressina is bathing them. Pressina cries out that he has broken his word and curses him, claiming that her descendants will avenge her. Then she disappears with her three daughters to Avalon.

On the girls’ fifteenth birthday, their mother tells them why they have been brought up there. Mélusine wants revenge, and she and her sisters travel to Albany, where they capture King Elinas, locking him away with his riches in the Brandelois Mountains. When Pressina learns what her daughters have done, she flies into a rage and punishes them for their lack of respect to their father. In some versions of the tale, the curse she inflicts on Mélusine is that she will become a serpent from the waist down every Saturday; in others, she becomes a mermaid.

Shortly thereafter, Mélusine leaves Avalon and begins roaming through the world, eventually arriving in the forest of Colombiers in Poitou, France. The fey folk tell her that they have been waiting for her to arrive and rule that land. Count Raymond is in the forest, too, and comes upon Mélusine standing by a fountain known as the Fountain of Thirst. The two fall in love and decide to marry, under one condition: Mélusine insists that he leave her be on Saturdays and never try to find out where she is or what she is doing.

Using the wealth she took from her father, she builds a castle next to the Fountain of Thirst. Mélusine and Raymond have ten children, all boys, all of whom became renowned for their exploits during the Crusades.

One day, Raymond can no longer contain his curiosity about his wife’s Saturday activities and follows her to the cave she goes to every week. He enters while she is bathing and sees that from the waist down, she is a serpent with scales of gray and blue.

When Mélusine sees him, she cries and stretches out her arms, which transform into wings, and she begins to disappear into the air, saying, “Thou, and those who for more than a hundred years shall succeed thee, shall know that whenever I am seen to hover over the fair castle of Lusignan, then will it be certain that in that very year the castle will get a new lord; and though people may not perceive me in the air, yet they will see me by the Fountain of Thirst; and thus shall it be so long as the castle stand in honor and flourishing—especially on the Friday before the lord of the castle shall die.”

Before and during the writing of Mélusine, Jean de Berry had reason to assert his claim to Lusignan; the text itself even confirms that, after passing from hand to hand, the fortress founded by Mélusine had only recently “by right and by the sword” come into Berry’s possession. In their introduction to Mélusine; or, The Noble History of Lusignan (2012), Donald Maddox and Sara Sturm-Maddox explain how this reflected “a long-standing trend in medieval Europe, where a strong interest in genealogy among feudal families in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries led to a proliferation of semihistorical genealogies alloyed with fictive forebears”; lineages were often traced back to an illustrious (and in this case glamorously supernatural) ancestor. And according to popular belief in the region, any legitimate claimant to Lusignan had to be a descendant of Mélusine. The work proved so popular and convincing that, according to Thomas Keightley in The Fairy Mythology (1828), “several noble houses were ambitious of showing a descent from [Mélusine].”

Jean d’Arras finished Mélusine in 1393, and after the invention of the printing press, which allowed widespread printing of the book (and countless others, of course), its popularity soared throughout Europe. By the end of the sixteenth century there were twenty-two different editions in print throughout the continent.

Soon she was lost to sight in the Danube, from the 1909 edition of Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué’s Undine, illustrated by Arthur Rackham.

Lebrecht Music and Arts Photo Library/Alamy Stock Photo

UNDINE Fourteenth-century German alchemist and astrologer Paracelsus not only invented laudanum, an opiate commonly used in the Renaissance as a cough suppressant and pain killer, but also claimed to have first identified an undine. A mischievous magical water spirit with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a serpent, an undine had no soul but could gain one from marriage to a mortal man. In The Secret Teachings of All Ages (1928), Manly P. Hall specified: “There are many groups of undines. Some inhabit waterfalls, where they can be seen in the spray; others are indigenous to swiftly moving rivers; some have their habitat in dripping, oozing fens or marshes; while other groups dwell in clear mountain lakes. According to the philosophers of antiquity, every fountain had its nymph; every ocean wave its oceanid. The water spirits were known under such names as oreades, nereides, limoniades, naiades, water sprites, sea maids, mermaids, and potamides.”

By the nineteenth century, Undine was also the name of a specific water nymph in the popular novella Undine (1811) by German folklore writer Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué. The tale was influenced by the story of Mélusine and also involved a hybrid yet irresistible female marrying a human man.

He could see Undine beneath the crystal vault, also by Rackham for the 1909 edition.

Lebrecht Music and Arts Photo Library/Alamy Stock Photo

The story is this: The daughter of a poor fisherman and his wife, “attracted by something very beautiful in the water,” falls into a lake and is thought to have drowned. That same evening a lovely young girl appears at the couple’s door; as the fisherman later relays, “a beautiful little girl three or four years old, richly dressed, stood on the threshold smiling at us. We were quite dumb with astonishment, and I knew not at first whether it were a vision or a reality. But I saw the water dripping from her golden hair and rich garments, and I perceived that the pretty child had been lying in the water, and needed help.” The husband and wife bring the wild girl, named Undine, into their house and raise her as their own.

Undine, an illustration by Edmund Dulac for the letter “U” from his alphabet book Lyrics Pathetic & Humorous from A to Z, 1909.

Bibliotheque de l’Heure Joyeuse, Paris, France/Archives Charmet/Bridgeman Images

Some years later, a handsome knight, Sir Huldbrand of Ringstetten, seeks refuge in the poor family’s cottage during a quest to prove his love for the maiden Bertalda, the foster daughter of the duke and duchess. But after meeting Undine, he is smitten with her. The two fall in love and marry. Only after does she confess that she is a water spirit—and that through the marriage she’s gained a soul. She explains, “My father, a powerful water-prince in the Mediterranean Sea, desired that his only daughter should become possessed of a soul, even though she must then endure many of the sufferings of those thus endowed. Such as we are, however, can only obtain a soul by the closest union of affection with one of your human race. I am now possessed of a soul, and my soul thanks you, my inexpressibly beloved one . . .” Huldbrand, more enamored than ever, vows to never forsake her.

Huldbrand takes his new wife back to his castle—and civilization. During the journey, Undine’s shape-shifting uncle Kühleborn appears to the couple as an old man and harasses them: “His countenance assumed a frightful expression, and he grinned fiercely at Undine, who screamed aloud and called upon her husband for assistance. As quick as lightning, the knight sprang to the other side of the horse, and aimed his sharp sword at Kühleborn’s head. But the sword cut through a waterfall, which was rushing down near them from a lofty crag; and with a splash, which almost sounded like a burst of laughter, it poured over them and wet them through to the skin.” Huldbrand and Undine then return to the kingdom, where Bertalda is grief-stricken that her beloved now has a beautiful bride, but “reconciled herself to circumstances, and lived on the most friendly terms with Undine, who was looked upon throughout the city as a princess whom Huldbrand had rescued in the forest from some evil enchantment.”

In fact, Bertalda and Undine feel an uncommon attachment to each other. When Undine, Huldebrand, and Bertalda are out walking, Kühleborn appears again to Undine. He pulls her aside and reveals to her that Bertalda is, in truth, the birth daughter of the poor old fisherman and his wife who raised Undine herself.

Meanwhile, Kühleborn and his kin are eager to get Undine back. Undine tries to resist their efforts and makes her husband promise to never lay a curse on her when they’re on the water, for if he does, she may be lost to him forever. When Huldbrand, Undine, and Bertalda take a trip down the Danube River, Huldbrand is alarmed by a storm and curses Undine. Fouqué writes: “Undine vanished over the side of the vessel. Whether she plunged into the stream, or flowed away with it, they knew not; her disappearance was like both and neither. Soon, however, she was completely lost sight of in the Danube; only a few little waves kept whispering, as if sobbing, round the boat, and they almost seemed to be saying: ‘Oh woe, woe! oh remain true! oh woe!’” Under the water, Kühleborn reminds her that she is “subject to the laws of our element, and if [Huldbrand] marries again and is unfaithful to you, you are in duty bound to take away his life.”

A few months after the tragic disappearance of Undine, Huldbrand and Bertalda fall in love and marry. On the night of the nuptials, a female specter with a ghostly veil rises from one of the castle fountains, passes Bertalda, who is frozen with terror upon the sight of Undine’s ghost, and enters the marriage chamber. Sir Huldbrand greets the specter and accepts the kiss she offers him and then dies. At the knight’s funeral, the specter is in attendance again and will not leave, despite Bertalda’s pleas. Only after the funeral party kneels to pray and rises does the specter vanish, leaving behind a silvery spring encircling the grave mound of the knight. To this day, the villagers say the spring is Undine, holding her knight in her arms.

The story of Undine has inspired numerous other artists, including E. T. A. Hoffmann and Tchaikovsky, who composed operas; Debussy, a prelude for piano; Hans Werner Henze, music for the ballet choreographed by Sir Frederick Ashton; and Hans Christian Andersen, the story “The Little Mermaid.”

“I know what you want” said the sea witch, illustration by Harry Clarke for “The Little Mermaid” from Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen, 1916.

Bibliotheque des Arts Decoratifs, Paris, France/Archives Charmet/Bridgeman Images

THE LITTLE MERMAID Flame-haired, silky-voiced Ariel, star of Walt Disney’s animated feature The Little Mermaid, is the most famous of all modern mermaids. When the Disney film came out in 1989, millions of girls fell in love with the mischievous, strong-willed nymph and swooned over her love story with the dashing human prince. But the original “Little Mermaid” on which the film was based was written in a fit of heartbreak by nineteenth-century wordsmith Hans Christian Andersen—and was a much more woeful tale.

Andersen wrote “The Little Mermaid” in 1836, when his friend Edvard Collin was getting married. Hans had an unrequited love for his well-heeled friend, as he did quite often for people, both female (more publicly) and male (more privately). Collin wouldn’t even agree to address his friend by the familiar “du” in Danish, causing Andersen endless suffering and leading him to imagine, in a draft of a letter never sent, that their friendship would reach this perfect “du” state after death. Andersen, it seems, most likely never had an adult relationship, or sex of any kind, but was rife with overwhelming passions and unreturned romantic affections. He was often in a state of heartbreak, and it was in such a state that he retreated to his hometown of Odense, Denmark, as Collins was getting married to a woman. There he wrote the sad story of a mermaid who longs for a human soul and who tries and fails to find love with a human prince.

In the tale and on her first visit to the surface of the ocean, the young mermaid saves a prince from drowning and falls deeply in love with him. She visits the sea witch for assistance, and the witch gives her a potion that will turn her tail to legs. In exchange, the witch takes the mermaid’s voice by cutting out her tongue, warning the mermaid that every step she takes with her human legs will cause “great pain, as if a sword were passing through you. But all who see you will say that you are the prettiest little human being they ever saw. You will still have the same floating gracefulness of movement, and no dancer will ever tread so lightly; but at every step you take it will feel as if you were treading upon sharp knives.” There is another problem: if the mermaid does not marry, the witch warns, she will turn to sea foam and die. The mermaid agrees to this terrible deal, then travels to the prince’s castle.

At the mere sight of the bright liquid they drew back in terror, illustration by Edmund Dulac for Stories from Hans Andersen, 1911.

Though the prince feels great affection for the mute and lovely girl, he does not fall in love with her. She suffers for the lack of reciprocation, but is happy to be with him all the same. Then one day it’s announced that he will marry a princess; he travels to the princess’s kingdom with the mermaid by his side, revealing to her that he can only love the woman who saved him. When he sees the princess in person, he believes she is the one who saved him from drowning and folds his blushing bride-to-be in his arms. “‘Oh, I am too happy,’ says he to the little mermaid; ‘my fondest hopes are all fulfilled. You will rejoice at my happiness; for your devotion to me is great and sincere.’”

Where the ocean is deepest stands the sea-king’s palace, illustration by Arthur Rackham from Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen, 1932.

Courtesy of the Arthur Rackham Society

The little mermaid’s heart is broken, but she faithfully attends the wedding that very same day at the princess’s kingdom. “The little mermaid, dressed in silk and gold, held up the bride’s train; but her ears heard nothing of the festive music, and her eyes saw not the holy ceremony; she thought of the night of death which was coming to her, and of all she had lost in the world.” That same evening, the joyful wedding party retreats to the ship to return to the prince’s homeland.

Early the next morning, the little mermaid’s sisters, their hair shorn, rise from the depths of the ocean and appear to her:

“‘We have given our hair to the witch,’ said they, ‘to obtain help for you, that you may not die to-night. She has given us a knife: here it is, see it is very sharp. Before the sun rises you must plunge it into the heart of the prince; when the warm blood falls upon your feet they will grow together again, and form into a fish’s tail, and you will be once more a mermaid, and return to us to live out your three hundred years before you die and change into the salt sea foam. Haste, then; he or you must die before sunrise. Our old grandmother moans so for you, that her white hair is falling off from sorrow, as ours fell under the witch’s scissors. Kill the prince and come back; hasten: do you not see the first red streaks in the sky? In a few minutes the sun will rise, and you must die.’ And then they sighed deeply and mournfully, and sank down beneath the waves.”

The little mermaid takes the knife and goes to the sleeping prince and his bride, but cannot muster the strength to kill him. She then flings herself overboard and waits for death. Instead, she feels a strange lightness, and all around her “floated hundreds of transparent beautiful beings.” The little mermaid “perceived that she had a body like theirs, and that she continued to rise higher and higher out of the foam.” She learns that she has become a daughter of the air, who, as one of the beings explains to her, “do not possess an immortal soul, [and] can, by their good deeds, procure one for themselves. We fly to warm countries, and cool the sultry air that destroys mankind with the pestilence. We carry the perfume of the flowers to spread health and restoration.” They continue: “You, poor little mermaid, have tried with your whole heart to do as we are doing; you have suffered and endured and raised yourself to the spirit-world by your good deeds; and now, by striving for three hundred years in the same way, you may obtain an immortal soul.” Though she has failed to gain the love of the prince, the little mermaid will finally, she is told, have the chance to gain the immortal soul she’s always wanted.