Good morning, class.
Ok, before we get started, are there any questions about last week’s lecture? Anyone? No? Well that’s good to hear: since you all have such a good handle on the topic, I guess I won’t bother putting any questions about it on the final exam. Ha ha! In all seriousness, I know some of you are writing your essays on the Coma Concorde between the Kingdoms of Stefan and Hubert, and I can’t emphasize enough that as this is a political history class, I really am not interested in yet another reconsideration of Duchess Maleficent’s obsession with Princess Aurora’s narcolepsy. I read at least two of those a year, they are barely relevant to what was, after all, an unprecedented peaceful merging of two kingdoms, and I never grade them higher than a “B.”
Moving on to today’s class: “The Fisherman’s Revolt,” perhaps better known to you as “The Mermaid’s War.”
This brutal civil war has been mythologized in our culture, such that the little that is known about the event is inextricably tied up with the fictions that have been constructed around it. Those in turn were often inspired by the propagandists on each side of the war. Those of you hoping to learn that Arielle was actually a magical singing sea-creature may want to leave now. Not that I want to sound crabby. Ha ha!
So let us try to tease the facts from the lies. We know that Prince Eric had backed out of a previously arranged marriage to the Princess of Glowerhaven not long before his sudden marriage with Princess Arielle. That ceremony occurred in near secrecy – on the Royal Barge, as opposed to the Palace Grand Hall which had hitherto been the custom.
There are a number of theories – non-magical theories – as to why this should be. The most likely of which was that Arielle was a commoner – possibly even a castle servant – with whom Eric had fallen in love. By now, I hope needn’t go into the political implications of such a match for the kingdom: the alliance with Glowerhaven repudiated, and the legitimacy of the royal reign imperiled.
It is not difficult to believe that, in order to increase her acceptability with the peasantry and aristocratic classes, the royal propagandists led the population to believe that Arielle was a royal from a distant, overseas kingdom: there are references to her origins in “Atlantea,” a country which turn up nowhere else in the historical record. Nonetheless, as her one recorded public address referred to her gratitude of being able to reign “up here” we can assume that she had been elevated from a much lower social station.
The rapidity and secrecy of the marriage, and her uncertain origins, meant that Princess Arielle was destined to be distrusted by the populace, and therefore the scapegoat in any conflict between the Royal family and their subjects. Even given that context, it seems that much of what led to the revolt was – perhaps inadvertently – her doing.
First, it should be made clear, that the bulk of the economy of kingdom was dependent on the fishery: the interior of the country was mountainous and there was insufficient farmland for anything but bare subsistence. From the records that survive, it appears that up to 60 percent of a typical peasant’s diet was derived from the oceans, and fully 80 percent of the economy on the fisheries, either directly from fishing or in international shipping, trade and processing of seafood.
The symbolic importance of the royal family publically refusing to eat seafood is therefore hard to overstate. It isn’t clear precisely why it happened: there is a apocryphal tale of the young Princess falling into hysterics on being served a plate of Flounder soon after her wedding – but our best conjecture is that Arielle belonged to a little-known ocean-worshipping sect that prohibited eating fish. This has the added benefit of explaining why the royal couple’s wedding rites were kept secret. On the other hand one palace servant did testify that she claimed that her father was “under the sea” so it is possible that psychological scarring stemming from family tragedy such as a shipwreck explains her aversion to seafood.
Whatever the reason, the fashion for abjuring from seafood spread to the rest of the aristocracy, and eventually led to an official ban on fish for all palace or state functions. It has been estimated the domestic economy shrunk by as much as 25 percent, while the prices of imported foodstuffs skyrocketed even as the value of exported seafood crashed.
There were food riots, and inevitably, Princess Arielle became the focal point of the people’s rage. Her obscure origins and the secrecy of her marriage made it very easy for demagogues to play on the superstitions of the people and paint her as an enchantress: her red hair did not help in this regard. It was from these accounts – remember, written by her enemies – that the fantastical notion that she was a mermaid, sent by the Sea King of sailor’s legend to destroy the kingdom are derived.
We can laugh at such notions now, but remember these were perilous times. We have a toxic mix of economic upheaval, xenophobia, and the overthrow of a foundational aspect of the traditional political power structures (that is, marriage for trade or military advantage). It was not surprising that it simply exploded into The Mermaid’s…excuse me, The Fisherman’s Revolt.
As we all know it did not end well for the royal family: despite most of the rebelling fishermen’s vessels being destroyed in a freak storm – again, attributed by propagandists to Arielle’s supposed undersea family – they did prevail over the royalist forces. Once Prince Eric and Arielle were executed, the aristocracy that did not flee largely put down their arms and one – Sir Grimsby the Great – became their first Lord Protector, governing with the aid of an elected council.
All, right, we’re running out of time, does anyone have any questions? Yes? Ah, I’m glad you asked that. Once more, I caution against putting too much faith in stories that have built up around individuals – it is institutions and the economy that are our best prisms for understanding these events. But to answer your question, no, it is probably not true that, when pleading for her life, that Princess Arielle ever said “let them eat hake.”
All right, thanks for your attention. For our next class, I’d like you to read “Queen Elsa and the Little Ice Age: how an absolute monarchy copes in a time of climate change.”
Tags: disney, education, fairytales, history, magic, mark reynolds
OK, I would like a great many more of these.
This is fantastic.
Isn’t it spelled “Ariel?”
I think you may be thinking of the children’s film “The Little Mermaid,” and not the actual historical personage these students are learning about.
Ross Perry’s The Little Mermaid ~*~may~*~ have had a song about this last winter. It’s called “It’s In The Public Domain.”
This is fantastic – so clever and well thought-out. I would love it if this became a series covering other Disney princess movies; like, how did the country (France?) in Beauty and the Beast fare under the rule of a reclusive adolescent king who no one saw or heard from for 10 years? Also I just really do want to read “Queen Elsa and the Little Ice Age: how an absolute monarchy copes in a time of climate change.”
Oooff, poor Beauty and the Beast. There is basically no aspect of that movie that stands up to the slightest amount of scrutiny or critical thinking, is there?
I’m thinking modern theology curricula should expand its section on the Notre Dame Treatise of 1482, with its strong emphasis on clarifying the roles of priests versus judges.
For real, though – like if you do the math, it turns out the prince was 11 when he was cursed. Where the hell did his parents go? Who was ruling the kingdom while he was having temper tantrums and cavorting with sentient flatware?
A friend of mine ahs a very complex explanation involving the unseelie fae.
I am in favor of any explanation for anything involving the unseelie fae.
Well, an eleven-year-old monarch would have a regent taking care of all but the ceremonial duties of ruling. But the real question is how the regent was able to keep ruling for ten years without anyone seeing the young monarch–wouldn’t there be conspiracy theories about the regent killing the prince so he could continue to rule?
I’m obsessed with this.
“Let them eat hake.”
Dying.
This is the best thing since Dennis’ reasoned analysis of The Sword in the Stone. Strange women lying in ponds is not, contrary to the myth, a legitimate basis for a system of government.
So what would mermaids eat, if not fish and not the flesh of drowned sailors? I am of course assuming it would be difficult to get drowned sailor once on land.
And no, I will not buy an all-plankton-and-seaweed diet. A good bit of plankton are larval crustaceans and fish. Which coincidentally are often hatched from eggs attached to seaweed. At that point they’re eating babies.
I agree, there’s no way mermaids wouldn’t eat fish. What ocean-dwelling herbivores exist that aren’t either extremely small or equipped with baleen?
I am now legitimately curious whether a human-sized mouth with baleen would be able to capture sufficient nutrients to sustain a human-sized body.
If you constantly swam around with your mouth open, maybe?
Even if it could, a lot of what it captured would still be larval crustaceans and fish.
I do like the idea of baby-eating mermaids though. They rule the ocean through fear.
According to the eminently reliable answers.com, blue whales consume about 3500 kilos of krill per day, and they require about 1,500,00 kcal of energy per day. So, adjusting for a human dietary requirement of 2000 kcal per day, the required serving size of krill for a human-sized mammal would be 4.67 kilos. Assuming that you’re consuming E. superba (mass per krill = 2g) and they’re swarming, you would need to take in 0.0667 cubic meters of seawater to get the required 4.67 kilos of krill. (All figures are ballpark estimates only.)
I, uh…I’m a little alarmed by how urgently I wanted to figure that out.
Hey, it may seem a ludicrous line of inquiry now, but remember what they used to say about Galileo…
Flounder, nooooooooooo!
Wonderful!
May I suggest, for a counterpoint, The Sea Witch Sets the Record Straight by the appropriately named Ursula Vernon? http://www.redwombatstudio.com/blog/2013/11/05/th…
I heartily enjoyed that. Thanks for sharing!
The first time I read it I lost it at the albatross with opera diva ambitions. She’s a great writer with an incredible turn of phrase 🙂
And the line about how when two cultures clash, young women lose…dang. I’m gonna have to read more of her stuff.
If you’re looking to lose a few days of productivity, read Digger: http://diggercomic.com/blog/2007/02/01/wombat1-gn… It’s a webcomic, now a full book “you could kill a bison with!” (her paraphrased words, not mine). It’s a story about a wombat who gets lost underground and winds up in a strange land with stranger inhabitants, and she gets sidetracked on adventures trying to find her way home. Highly recommended — it made me cry several times. She writes women/female characters very, very well.
Look up her story Jackalope Wives it is the most amazing read.
That was delightful.
This is fantastic. Would love to see this as a series, but if it’s not, I’d be happy reading this perfect piece over and over again forever.
This is really just brilliant, and such a nice way to start my afternoon of internet procrastination.
Can we keep it as a series, benevolent Toast-masters?! Please, can we keep it?!
Oh this is good. This is really good.
I want to attend this class. Barring that, I would like transcripts of all the lectures. Pretty please?
A friend of mine ahs a very complex explanation involving the unseelie fae.
This was wonderful, and I’m really looking forward to the lecture on Princess Jasmine and Prince Aladdin, and the complex gender and class issues surrounding succession to autocratic rule in 16th-century Southwest Asia.
This was wonderful, and I'm really looking forward to the lecture on Princess Jasmine and Prince Aladdin, and the complex gender and class issues surrounding succession to autocratic rule in 16th-century Southwest Asia.
All of you commenters are wonderful people – thank you!
manatee
Yes… a series… might I suggest a study of the institutional ageism behind the attempt on Snow White’s life, and the fate of the dwarves who led the coup that placed her in power.