The Mermaid of Black Conch: lust, colonialism and the ownership of women

In 1976, David Baptiste rescues a mermaid who has been strung up by the visiting Floridian men after catching her on a fishing expedition off the coast of the Caribbean island of Black Conch. Aycayia was cursed hundreds of years ago to a life beneath the waves by the wives of her village who were jealous of her beauty.

I listened to the audiobook of the Costa-winning novel ‘The Mermaid of Black Conch’ in only two days, and while the narration was wonderful, split between two narrators and two perspectives: David in 1976, David’s journal in 2015 and Aycayia’s brief and sporadic stream-of-consciousness snippets, I didn’t connect to it as much as I had hoped.

The setting of St Constance, a small fishing village on the Caribbean island of Black Conch, is vivid and tangible and the atmosphere is incredible. Roffey really cemented her story in Black Conch and the setting really played a character of its own, especially towards the end of the novel when the realities of living on a Caribbean island and the effect it has on every aspect of a place so reliant on the ocean. The sound effects and the narration of the brilliant audiobook helped bring the island to life a lot as well, I think.

Although I didn’t particularly enjoy the book, I very much appreciated the craft of the novel and the issues and concerns it discussed. 

The pursuit and capture of the mermaid, Acyayia, and the ‘rescue’, was visceral and there was nothing romantic about it. These scenes and the act of the capture really exposed and explored the historical and current entrapping of women. The taming, domesticating, reducing them into something for male use and social consumption, for marriage and motherhood and society, as well as a reflection on colonialism. It was skilfully done and uncomfortable to read. 

The historical ramifications of colonisation and imperialism are vividly present even in 1976 with the present of a white woman who owns most of the residences on the island. She is a perfectly nice woman and gets on well with David, but the legacies of slavery and ownership of colonised land, property and people is glaringly present in the daily lives of the residents of St Constance. It’s a sobering reminder of the long-lasting scars of colonialism.

While these topics were handled beautifully, my issue with ‘The Mermaid of Black Conch’ was the sexual language and portrayal of sex and sexuality throughout the novel. This book is lusty. For me, it was an uncomfortable lustiness when tied in with the themes of colonialism and female ownership and told largely from the perspective of David, even though I liked him as a character. It was just uncomfortable, and I’m assuming that was purposeful. Also, the endless use of the word ‘sexing’ was just a bit gross. 

I totally understand why it won the Costa, however, and I’m genuinely surprised it didn’t make the Women’s Prize longlist even though it wasn’t for me.

Have you read this yet?

Written by Sophie

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