The Big Truth about the Little Mermaid
She’s the girl who has, literally, everything.
The favoured daughter of a benign king, she has wealth, intelligence, and beauty. But, in her own words, she “wants more”. She’s advised by her father’s most trusted counsellor to practice mindfulness and gratitude. “Such wonderful things around you”, he hums, “what more is you lookin’ for?”
Despite it all, she puts her family and community in mortal danger to satiate her unquenchable greed.
Check your childhood sympathies at the door. Ariel, the precious Little Mermaid, is a self-obsessed and spoilt princess whose behaviour should be admonished not admired.
Poor unfortunate rich kid
Of course, like every misguided youth, she had her share of negative influences. But can we blame a cackling octopus and her slippery eel helpers for Ariel’s despicable life choices?
It wasn’t Ursula that instilled in Ariel her insatiable thirst for human connection. Ariel admits herself that she’s got plenty enough. Thing-a-ma-bobs, you ask? She’s got twenty! “But who cares?”, she sighs, “no big deal. I want more.”
Of course, she doesn’t frame the issue as a matter of unchecked craving for the only unattainable thing in her world. Rather it’s about freedom — a “bright young woman…. ready to stand”.
And there’s the small matter of the handsome landlubber who enchants Ariel with his charming… biceps? “What would I pay to stand here beside you?”, she asks rhetorically.
It turns out that the price is high indeed. Perhaps this is why Ursula’s persuasive tactics work so well. She doesn’t even need to lie. Those who can’t pay, she states in the manner of a 1960s Italian mafioso, are raked across the coals.
Ariel understands the price of her conversion to human form. Bluntly: “If I become human, I’ll never be with my father or sisters again.” Ursula denies it not one bit. “Life’s full of tough choices, isn’t it?”
Isn’t it just.
So she takes the plunge to a world out of reach of her family, friends, or less privileged compatriots. And sets in train a series of events that will throw her father’s kingdom — and life — into terrible jeopardy.
Don’t say a word
We cannot perhaps ascribe all the devastation and destruction that follows to Ariel herself. Naive and selfish, yes. Hell-bent on oceanic domination, that’s more Ursula’s bag.
Nor can all our issues with The Little Mermaid be bundled up in her alone. The constellation of sea creatures inciting a strapping man to make his move on a young woman without so much as a “how d’ya do” between them is disturbing enough.
But if the primary arc of the story is intended to be a young woman’s liberation tale, the evidence simply does not bear it out.
Let’s call a triton a triton. A musical wonder, it may be. A morality tale it is not.
