Haunting, enchanting and full of rage. The Surface Breaks is a feminist re-telling of The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Anderson. If you thought the original fairytale was dark - get ready for novel that will curdle your toes.
The story is as follows: Gaia (or Muirgen as she is sometimes called) is the youngest daughter of the Sea King. Beautiful, graceful and full of dreams she longs for what is above the surface. The Sea Kingdom is full of oppression, where mermaids pierce themselves with pearls for beauty and starve for mermans' pleasure. One day, she witnesses a shipwreck and saves the life of a human boy named Oliver. Consumed with love she turns to the Sea Witch, Ceto, to help her escape the sea and turn human. But the price is heavy and when she is finally at his side, she realises that things were not so simple as she once imagined them to be.
First I'd like to give a warning: many topics in the novel can be quite triggering for some individuals. The novel involves topics such as: implied rape, sexual assault, eating disorders, implied paedophilia, suicide and self-harm. Please be careful when reading.
The first difficult thing I came across with this novel, was the way I couldn't separate the 1989 Disney film from my head. I loved The Little Mermaid. Ariel's big beautiful, vibrant red hair, her optimism, strength and persistence to achieve the life that she wanted. As a kid I loved everything about her. I still watch the film with the same wonder and excitement. But, as most of us realised as we got older, there were a lot of things about the film that feel incredibly dated.
Ariel had to give up her voice, her friends and family, all the life she had ever known for just the possibility to be with Eric. In all honesty, I'm not sure of a woman who would even give up her side of the bed for any man. The Surface Breaks takes that concept and plunges in deep with this thought: Ariel was incredibly lucky - she lived in a Disney movie. But what if she didn't?
SPOILERS AHEAD
In a world where a mermaids one true purpose is to be married off and sire merbabies - even if you were a princess - what would you do to escape it? For Gaia, this is her reality. On her sixteenth birthday she would be married off to a decorated war hero, the childhood friend of her father. Two weeks before this, she trades her tongue for legs and takes her life on a course with consequences she won't be able to escape.
I think the biggest thing I loved about this novel was the way in which it didn't shy away.
With no tongue, no voice. She had given up the only thing she had ever loved about herself - singing. And the further time passes the more she starts to realise just how heavy a price she paid for him.
At first, Gaia feels appreciated and curious. The human world is interesting and new to her, but Oliver is her main focus and she spends a majority of the novel dedicated to pursuing him. Around him she always is beautiful, graceful and ready to listen. She's never disagreeable or angry, never asking for attention - everything she's never been told that a man would ever want in a woman. She knows he will fall in love with her.
But how do you know for sure?
I found it hard to accept this version of The Little Mermaid. While I did feel that way when I read the original story, the original had the advantage of being written long before my time and it felt removed from me, from another time completely. But this re-telling took the story a little too close to reality. Gaia is at war with herself. She feels a deep dark desire for Oliver, a desire she was told was disgusting and 'did not exist for women'. And even when she is free from her father and his violence, she still believes his word his law; judging herself and others through her fathers eyes.
In the novel, Gaia is never referred to by her true name. Her name is always bestowed upon her by the men in her life - "Muirgen", by her father and "Grace", by Oliver. But never her true name Gaia, the name her mother chose.
Under the sea she thought she knew what it meant to be trapped and alone. On the surface, she realises she was far from it. She eventually realises that women, regardless of being born on land or sea, are always treated with contempt. It is never enough for them.
"I want to scream. What is it men actually want from us?"
Do they want a quiet obedient wife? The sexy alluring stranger? The opinionated, funny girl? All these thoughts run through Gaia's mind as Oliver slips further away from her because, despite being a beautiful and agreeable woman - she can't speak, can't hold a conversation, can never express how she feels. She holds herself back, never explicitly conveys that she loves him and needs him to survive. All the while living in excruciating pain as the flesh of her feet are peeling back and rotting every second.
Beauty is Pain.
Women can never have anything without suffering.
It isn't until she fully comes to terms with how much she has suffered under the men in her life - does Gaia truly understand how powerful she really is.
I won't spoil any more. The entire book is a terrifying treat. All I will say is that Louise O'Neill does an incredible thing. Somehow she manages to speak to a million women at once, women who have all heard a variation of things Gaia suffers or is subjected to.
Are you sure you want to be eating that? Men don't like fat women.
Your opinion doesn't matter.
What do you know? You're just a girl.
You're too delicate to understand what's really going on.
No man will ever want you if you behave this way.
Smile more. Don't talk as much.
This book is a dark, feminist novel about the suffering of women and how important it is to keep your voice. To never underestimate its importance.
To always keep your feet planted firmly on the ground.
Comments