"My mother told me lullabies of the evil mermaids Leucoisa, Ligeia, and Lore-Ley. And ever since my childhood days, that's what I have chosen to be, a dangerous nymph, a lethal siren of the sea." -Conny Cernik
Happy Mermay Day 02!
This photo comes from the Blue Lagoon, which I had the pleasure of visiting back in 2014.
I hope you're all having a good Thursday. :)
Stay safe out there. You never know what lurks in your local puddle.
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Sirens of Greek Myth Were Bird-Women, Not Mermaids
Bottle-askos in the shape of a siren (2nd half 6th century BC) from Locri / Southern Italy's Calabria. National Museum of Magna Graecia (Reggio Calabria, Italy).
In the wine-dark expanse of the Mediterranean Sea, far from the halls of civilization, there was once a small island—or so Homer, the famed poet of Ancient Greece, wrote in his epic The Odyssey. No buildings occupied its flowery meadows; no fisherman worked its shores. Those who passed in their black ships heard only voices, twining over the windless waves, singing a song that promised knowledge of all things. Once they heard it, they were enchanted; they had no choice but to land and seek out the singers. Those who did never left the island; their bodies remained, rotting amid the flowers, for none who heard the Sirens' song could escape it.
The story of the Sirens has inspired writers, poets, and artists for millennia. But somewhere along the way their form was confused. Today, Sirens are almost always represented as voluptuous mermaids, whose beauty and sexuality lure men to their deaths. But the Classical Greeks understood the Sirens differently: as bird-women, creatures that Mediterranean cultures traditionally associated with hidden knowledge.
Sirens first appear in the literary record with the Odyssey (written around 750 BCE) in a segment that’s much briefer than you’d think considering the cultural impact of these mystical, singing creatures. It goes like this: Odysseus, warned by the enchantress Circe of the danger posed by the Sirens’ song, orders his crew to stuff their ears with wax. But, curious to a fault, he has himself bound to the ship’s mast so he can listen without flinging himself into the sea. The Sirens promise him tales of all that had occurred during the war at Troy, and everywhere else besides; enchanted, he begs his crew to release him. He rants, raves, and threatens, but to no avail. His crew sails on until the song fades in the distance, and so saves his life.
Homer doesn’t describe the Sirens’ physical appearance in his epic poem, Wilson says. But in ceramic paintings and tomb sculptures from the time of writing, and centuries after, Sirens were usually depicted with taloned feet, feathered wings, and a beautiful human face. The bird-body of the Siren is significant to Wilson: In the eyes of traditional peoples all across Europe, birds were often graced with an otherworldliness associated with gods, spirits, and omens.
They inhabit the water, the air, and the earth. They’re also associated with song; they have voices that are not human voices, and kinds of movement that are not the same as human kinds of movement.
The Sirens’ role in tomb art is particularly telling. In ancient Mediterranean and Middle Eastern cultures—as far back as 7,000 years ago—birds were often depicted carrying spirits to the underworld. In Southern Italy's Calabria, archaeologists unearthed several Greek askos (unguentary vessel) in shape of sirens, most commonly found in tombs.
Bronze askos in the shape of a siren (5th century BC) from Crotone, Calabria, Italy - Archaeological Museum of Crotone.
Jump ahead a few millennia to 1,550 BCE, by which time Ba-birds, depictions of departing souls as human-faced birds, began appearing in Egypt. That connection between birds and dead souls seems to have then hopped over to Greece: Writing in the 5th century BCE, the playwright Euripides described the Sirens as at the beck and call of Persephone, one of the rulers of the underworld, while other writers identified the Sirens as rivals and dark echoes of the Muses, those goddesses of creativity.
These are the Sirens the Ancient Greeks would have recognized: bird creatures of the underworld, bridging the human world and what lies beyond. The Sirens—and their fateful songs—then offered a glimpse behind the veil, a chance to hear how earthly glories would echo in eternity. The question of what song the Sirens sing, what is this forbidden knowledge, what's wrong with it, what's the temptation—the text leaves a lot of open space there. Therein lies the seduction.
Yet today, mermaids or beautiful sea nymphs replace the dark, winged Sirens of ancient times.
It is during the Middle Ages that the image of the siren began its shift from bird-woman to mermaid . With the transformation of the siren's image, the attributes associated with female monsters shifted. This suggests a change in the traits that were considered monstrous in women. The siren's movement from a frightening bird-woman to a beautiful mermaid represents female beauty becoming monstrous. Throughout the Middle Ages sirens increasingly represented a male fear of female seduction, suggesting a growing fear of female sexuality.
For medieval Christians, sirens were heavily associated with female sin.
However it happened, the identification of Sirens with mermaids seems to have affected later translations of the Odyssey, and ultimately common knowledge of Sirens. Translators in the 19th and 20th centuries cast the Sirens in a sexualized light. In one prose translation, the Sirens speak of “the sweet voice from our lips,” despite the word στομάτων directly translating to the less sensual “mouths.” Another adds flowery descriptors of “each purling note/like honey twining/from our lips.” But unlike the Odyssey’s other island temptresses, Circe and Calypso, the Sirens get no admiring description of their faces or hair. Only their voice is described, and their field of bones and flowers.
That’s a pretty strong indicator that the Sirens are not meant to be read as offering a sexual temptation. You can kiss lips; mouths devour.
Folklore and mythology move on, given enough time. Today, the Siren is just another word for mermaid, and is likely to remain so. But there’s something richly thematic about the Sirens of Classical Greece that deserves to be remembered: in-between creatures on a lonely island, floating between the boundaries of life and death, and offering an irresistible song of both. Water-temptresses are a dime a dozen; the Sirens offer wisdom.
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@joukaiweek 2024 Day 4 || Flight
New au because I'm sick and twisted and can't stop making them fall in love again and again
Will I dabble in this au after ship week? Highly unlikely, HOWEVER, it will lurk in my brain to play with like Barbie dolls. Sorry, you guys don't have tickets to my mental movie theater :(
Hence, I welcome yall to play around with it yourselves if you so wish! Feel free to brain dump on this post or in my ask box (whichever you feel more comfortable with) as I'd be happy to hear your takes on it ^u^)/
Here's what I've got for any crumbs of lore:
Uhhh I guess if I had to put a label on it I'd call it some kinda science vs mythos au ????
Basically, Dr. Kaiba (cause he's a scientist with a doctorate, smart boy) works at a highly classified facility (think like SCP) and finds himself assigned to a relatively new and infamous subject (it's Wheeler). The subject is tied to all kinds of rumors, which gained it quite a scary reputation, much to Kaiba's dismay. Unexpectedly, when Kaiba turns up to the job, he finds that the subject is nothing like the rumors. It even calls itself by a name: Joey.
The general idea would be a sort of freedom vs captivity struggle. Kaiba and Joey would have very conflicting perspectives, Joey feeling as though he's just here temporarily to help out and learn about the world (loosely calling himself a diplomat, albeit his trip is not official) meanwhile Kaiba fully acknowledges him as a lab subject to study that has no means of escape.
I also like the idea of Joey falling first, but Kaiba falling harder :3c
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Carne - a selkie/siren hybrid.
artistic nudes/designiing below cut n some more info
originally a design for Scar; but moving towards putting them as their own character [possibly female or nb] but also may return to this concept for a Scar version as well because I do like it a lot. [have a lot of Seascar doobles happening]
testing colour palettes @ chosen colours (oil covered -> Carnes bad at washing their sealcoat + natural selkie oil buildup to keep from drying out. So when they first remove their coat they're a dark pinkish red due to the mucus/oil)
Sealcoat concepts. I imagine its very big on their human form [even 2x their size] so sometimes they bundle it up a lot like the 'lmao'. Settled a bit more on the sorta cloak look on the lower ones + realized I forgot their dorsal fin from their orca siren side
pbblt thanks for enjoying. heres a silly rough concept for their 'feral' form. despite being leopard seal based, who have short claws, probably going to give themb long claws.
Below: starting concept sketches + alt colour face
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