Guest post written by author Gabi Burton
Gabi grew up reading and writing in St. Louis, Missouri. She graduated from Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine in 2021. Now, she works as a paralegal and author on the East Coast. When she’s not working or writing, she’s probably watching Netflix, scrolling through Twitter, or finding beautiful places to walk—preferably near a body of water. She is represented by the amazing unicorn, Naomi Davis, and her debut novel SING ME TO SLEEP is out now.
Three days after I announced the book deal for Sing Me to Sleep, I received my first one-star review. At the time, I was still editing the book, we weren’t even close to having ARCs, and there was no way anyone aside from me, my agent, and my editor had read it. The review was left by a brand-new account, made just that day. It didn’t have a profile picture or a bio. Someone had made a Goodreads account for the sole purpose of reviewing a book they’d never read. The “review” was long and raving and angry. They were upset to see that Sing Me to Sleep has an all Black and Brown cast. They claimed that sirens are Irish and a Black person writing about that was appropriating Irish culture. They vented about how they felt I was personally stealing from them. I’m sugarcoating it because the actual language this reviewer used was foul, but that’s the crux of it.
Fortunately, that “review” has since been taken down but I think about it often. When I do, I think about how mermaid and siren mythology exists in pretty much all cultures around the world. I think about how there are sea-themed mythological creatures of all nationalities, races, and ethnicities. I think about how this “reviewers” raving response is proof that we need more representation so white people aren’t so scandalized when they finally see it. I think about how wild it is to think you “own” one of the most mainstream mythological creatures in existence. But mainly, I think about my favorite mermaid and siren stories from my childhood and what they have in common with each other.
Of course, I was a big fan of The Little Mermaid (1989). For my fifth birthday, my parents got me the sequel, The Little Mermaid 2: Return to the Sea on VHS. I watched it religiously. I also loved the early 2000’s classic, Aquamarine—a story about a mermaid who enlists the help of two girls to find love so she can keep her legs and stay on land. It’s iconic and I was obsessed. My whole family knew I was in love with the show H2O: Just Add Water. I still rewatch it from time to time and it (in my opinion) holds up. My brothers and I loved the Dreamworks movie Sinbad, especially the scene where Sinbad and his crew have to battle a group of sirens. In the movie, they appeared like wispy figures made of water who sang and giggled, luring the men to crash the ship or jump overboard to their deaths.
As a kid, I read books like Emily Winddsnap (a series about a 12-year old girl who discovers she’s half mermaid) and Peter and the Starcatchers (a series about the origin story of Peter Pan, including the origins of the mermaids in the lagoon on Neverland).
I devoured all kinds of stories about mermaids and sirens. Different as they were, they have a bit in common. For one thing, all the depictions of mermaids/sirens I enjoyed as a kid were white. For another, none of them were Irish. And yet, none of them have reviews from angry white people claiming that they’re appropriating Irish culture—because of course not. Because sirens and mermaids don’t belong to Irish culture. Because if that “reviewer” took the time to reflect, they’d recognize that they’re not upset about not seeing Ireland represented in my book, they’re upset about not seeing whiteness.
Like me, this person likely grew up on stories of white sirens and mermaids. Unlike me, they took this to mean that white should be the default for mermaids/sirens. It’s not. Where there’s water, there are likely legends and folklore about mermaid-like creatures. Stories about humanoid sea creatures exist in some form in mythology around the world—they’re not owned by any one race or nationality.
In recent years, we’ve started to see more stories about Black mermaids and sirens. Of course, there’s The Little Mermaid (2023) starring Halle Bailey. But there are also books such as Skin of the Sea by Natasha Bowen, A Song Below Water by Bethany C. Morrow, and The Deep by Rivers Solomon. They all feature Black water-based mythical creatures. With this exciting wave of diverse stories featuring Black mermaids and sirens, many people have this mindset that these stories are new. They aren’t. Black mermaids and Black sirens weren’t invented as a concept a few years ago, they’ve been in stories passed down for generations. Our exclusion from mainstream books and movies until recently doesn’t mean mythology about us doesn’t exist. Western, Central, and Southern Africa have the mami wata, in Jamaica there’s the River Mumma, Haiti has la siréne, and I could keep going. Black mer-creatures aren’t new but the hyper-prevalence of whiteness in movies, TV shows, and books has convinced many people that white people have a monopoly on mythology about the sea.
I’m excited about this wave of melanated sea creatures we’ve been seeing more and more. I’m excited for the representation it provides for Black kids who want and deserve to see themselves represented in all kinds of stories. I worry that people view this as “making space” for Black authors in stories that aren’t theirs when in fact, what’s actually happening is Black people are finally allowed to tell their own stories in a mainstream way.
Black creators aren’t stealing white stories. We’ve don’t need to. We have our own stories, history, and mythology. Mermaids and sirens exist across just about all cultures and races—including my own. I am so excited for this next generation of Black kids to be raised on fantastical stories centering characters who look like them and I’m honored to join the ranks of Black authors telling our stories.
