The Mermaid of Black Conch by Monique Roffey is a lush and tragic novel set in 1976 in the Caribbean. It follows David, a fisherman, and the mermaid, Aycayia, who he rescues from American tourists (who caught her and planned to sell her). She is an Indigenous woman who was cursed by jealous women over a thousand years ago. This tragic fairytale-esque novel includes themes of colonialism, loss of voice, loss of freedom, and love. The Caribbean landscape and history are lushly interwoven into the fabric of the story. The Caribbean dialect is beautifully lyrical. The style reminds me of magical realism authors like Laura Esquivel and Gabriel García Márquez. I found the unique voice and style to be enchanting and compelling. The ghosts of colonialism take from the Indigenous and Caribbean people and a subtle feeling of loss and loneliness echoes throughout the novel. It’s romantic and tragic.
The idea of belonging simultaneously to two different worlds but not feeling entirely at home in either is compelling. It’s explored in the mermaid motif, biracial characters, and the child who is deaf (and refuses hearing aids because he doesn’t want to assimilate completely into the hearing world). The connection between these two characters was beautiful. I also loved the conflict in Aycayia as she feels the pull of the sea and the land and between the idea of love and her freedom. Aycayia’s loss of language, culture, community, and agency over her body was moving. The complex power dynamics of a small colonized island community were fascinating. The antagonists’ use of police authority at the end to try to reclaim the mermaid (who is considered “property”) and the history of slavery and colonialism, and the tropical storm, was a compelling and cinematic ending.
The love between David and Aycayia was not romantic but rather an exploration of sexuality in a woman who was punished for being perceived as beautiful. Her desire for a sexual relationship with a man is at odds with her desire for freedom. This Costa Award-winning novel is beautifully written and thematically artistic. It falls short for me, however, in how it relies so heavily on sexist tropes. As it’s written, Aycayia’s perspective lacks depth. Female characters also tend to fall into good/bad and virgin/whore binaries which is surprising considering the mix of cultural influences in the island setting. The assertion that she was to blame for men lusting over her body is never challenged but her loss of voice was a poignant theme.
The Mermaid of Black Conch is a tragically beautiful, lyrical, and complex story that I fully recommend.
Hailey Talks To Cats 