As much as I would love to be able to fly, I don't think I could permanently trade in my hands for it. I need my fingers! They're so useful! How would I make hot buttered toast without them?
The ideal I think would be a shuba-type arrangement, like Greensky, where you have a garment that enables you to float but also you still have your hands.
Hopefully that trade wouldn't involve the mean-spirited "and it will feel like stabbing knives each step you take" (only for a tail). Hopefully you just get the tail and voilà, mermaid!
My imprinting version was Splash (1984), in which the change is painless and flexible.
My defining childhood mermaid media was Liz Kessler's The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which also had a painless + flexible mermaid transition, although there the protagonist was, in the immortal words of Lady Gaga, just born that way, so I didn't feel like that counted for this prompt. (Although she didn't discover her mermaid powers until middle school, because what kind of MG adventure would it be otherwise?)
My defining childhood mermaid media was Liz Kessler's The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which also had a painless + flexible mermaid transition, although there the protagonist was, in the immortal words of Lady Gaga, just born that way, so I didn't feel like that counted for this prompt.
I have not read the series, but cheap and easy recourse to the internet suggests it follows the same conceit: legs out of the water, tail in it. I am delighted. Would you consider the books to hold up? If so, I will try them on my niece.
(Splash features both the ability to move between worlds and the necessity of choosing between them, of which different characters are capable. I carried all of the folkloric parts of the story with me for life and had to rediscover a lot of the human '80's comedy as an adult.)
Not permanently. And if magical transformations (or translocations!) are available, there are other options I'd consider first:
Being able to instantly go anywhere on the planet, as my regular human self (or even anywhere with a matching street name to one's current-moment location—something suggested among science fiction fan friends of mine, years ago),
Being able to fully experience being a particular animal for a few hours or days, in the wild or a good simulacrum or comfy protected space, complete with their knowledge and abilities and mindset—I think it'd be particularly fun to be a dolphin. I might also like to try being a bat ray or manta ray, or an octopus, or a whale, or a ferret, or a smart bird like a crow or raven or parrot, or a bird that sings beautifully and with a lot of variety, like maybe a Bewick's Wren, or a domestic cat with an excellent human companion. 😊
I have recommendations for both pro-fiction and fan-fiction stories that touch on animal consciousness and translocation possibilities, if you're interested...
As much as I love flying, I need manipulatory digits every day. To make a good trade, I would need either winghands or a bird head whose beak/tongue would make an effective manipulator (e.g. kea).
Would you consider the books to hold up? If so, I will try them on my niece.
I haven't reread it since I was like 10, but I remember it fondly. I think I may have read one of the sequels, but I think most of them came out after I aged out the series.
I was thinking mainly of the gravity of the tradeoff. Who hasn't wanted to fly? But when we imagine flying, we're not imagining losing anything, just gaining something. But I was thinking about how fish with fins, land animals with legs or legs and arms, and birds with legs and wings--we're all on the same pattern. So if you gain wings, you lose fins and arms. And if you gain fins, you lose wings and arm and legs, and if you gain arms and legs, you lose fins and wings.
I like your creatures that you'd like to experience, though, especially the water dwelling ones. I don't know much about rays--what is it about them that draws you?
I thought of them because Juliet McKenna has swan maidens, or rather swan women, in her Green Man series. Also there are swan men, from what is possibly an Irish myth. They can change back and forth at will which would be an amazing talent to have.
The trade-off would be grave, indeed. Not that we humans haven't experienced some tradeoffs, compared to our distant evolutionary ancestors, e.g., I've heard that the muscles to support human pregnancy are not fully evolved for upright stature (evolution of hands vs. more backaches, yes?), and that our infants have prolonged dependence on their parents because they need to be born while their large brains can still fit through their mothers' pelvic openings...
What I like most about rays is how gracefully they move—like dancers. They have cartilaginous skeletons, and their enlarged pectoral fins are very flexible. I also like the diamond-ish shape of bat rays and manta rays. And their texture—I got to touch some young bat rays in a petting pool at the Monterey Bay Acquarium, once, and I remember them as feeling very smooth to the touch. 😌
Oh yes! It's beautiful how they move. I like how they move their sides--are those their pectoral fins?--up and down; it's like wing beats. How wonderful that you got to touch them!
Yes, rays' winglike sides are pectoral fins (to the best of my knowledge).
Because water resistance makes rays' flight-like movements slower than the wingbeats of birds, I actually find their movements more enjoyable to watch than the movements of any birds I know except maybe swallows.
The internet tells me that rays feel smooth when stroked in one direction, and sandpapery-rough when stroked in a different direction, like sharks do, but I only remember the smoothness.
As far as I can remember, the baby bat rays in the petting pool were about 8 to 10 inches across, from wingtip to wingtip, and dark-colored above but light-colored on their undersides. Watching and touching them is a very fond memory. 😌
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Only if I could trade them back. I thought about this question a lot as a child and I really need fingers.
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The ideal I think would be a shuba-type arrangement, like Greensky, where you have a garment that enables you to float but also you still have your hands.
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Experience wings for a while, then go back.
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Yeah, I like my hands. I am a human!
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Exactly! Or a sort of selkie arrangement, in which the wings can be shrugged on or off at need.
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No, but I would pull a reverse Ariel and trade my legs to become a mermaid in a heartbeat.
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My imprinting version was Splash (1984), in which the change is painless and flexible. It was what I wanted, in the sea.
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The great scene of her in the bathtub by night, running salt into the bathwater as the skin of her thighs crinkles suddenly into scales.
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My defining childhood mermaid media was Liz Kessler's The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which also had a painless + flexible mermaid transition, although there the protagonist was, in the immortal words of Lady Gaga, just born that way, so I didn't feel like that counted for this prompt. (Although she didn't discover her mermaid powers until middle school, because what kind of MG adventure would it be otherwise?)
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I have not read the series, but cheap and easy recourse to the internet suggests it follows the same conceit: legs out of the water, tail in it. I am delighted. Would you consider the books to hold up? If so, I will try them on my niece.
(Splash features both the ability to move between worlds and the necessity of choosing between them, of which different characters are capable. I carried all of the folkloric parts of the story with me for life and had to rediscover a lot of the human '80's comedy as an adult.)
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I have recommendations for both pro-fiction and fan-fiction stories that touch on animal consciousness and translocation possibilities, if you're interested...
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I haven't reread it since I was like 10, but I remember it fondly. I think I may have read one of the sequels, but I think most of them came out after I aged out the series.
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I like your creatures that you'd like to experience, though, especially the water dwelling ones. I don't know much about rays--what is it about them that draws you?
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(Reading was my first thought but of course there are other ways.)
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What I like most about rays is how gracefully they move—like dancers. They have cartilaginous skeletons, and their enlarged pectoral fins are very flexible. I also like the diamond-ish shape of bat rays and manta rays. And their texture—I got to touch some young bat rays in a petting pool at the Monterey Bay Acquarium, once, and I remember them as feeling very smooth to the touch. 😌
Short video that includes glimpses of bat rays moving through water
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Because water resistance makes rays' flight-like movements slower than the wingbeats of birds, I actually find their movements more enjoyable to watch than the movements of any birds I know except maybe swallows.
The internet tells me that rays feel smooth when stroked in one direction, and sandpapery-rough when stroked in a different direction, like sharks do, but I only remember the smoothness.
As far as I can remember, the baby bat rays in the petting pool were about 8 to 10 inches across, from wingtip to wingtip, and dark-colored above but light-colored on their undersides. Watching and touching them is a very fond memory. 😌
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