Ways of Seeing the Sea
Cultural constructions of the marine world
We are no strangers to the sea in St Andrews. From May Dip to the pier walk to Raisin sunrise swims, it seems the sea and its accessories have become our own personal playground. But it will surprise no one that the sea has not always been perceived with such universal comfort. Our collective view of the sea has changed drastically across history, as ancient folklore, poetic interpretations, and technological developments have moulded our perception in powerful, unseen ways.
It’s often said that we know more about Mars’ surface than we do of the depths of our own seas. But what worlds do we invent to ease the burden of uncertainty, and what narratives do we weave to fill the gaps in our understanding? In Christian tradition, the sea is perceived as something to be survived, not enjoyed; biblical accounts depict the sea as the site of primordial chaos, uncontrollable and untamed — the opposite of divine order. Leviathan is the Bible’s take on a sea monster, another symbol of uncontrollable power. Many such water monsters have been conjured in our imaginations to make sense of all that we cannot see, with disconnected cultures and communities forming similar answers to shared questions. From the kraken of Scandinavian folklore to the Taniwha of Māori mythology, it seems what was once imagined of the world below was almost universally frightening.
In his 1994 work The Lure of the Sea: The Discovery of the Seaside in the Western World, historian Alain Corbin proposes a potential shift in human perspectives on the sea during the eighteenth century, with the emergence of new technologies and poetic appreciation of the sea’s mysteries. Romantic poets employed the concept of the sublime, defined by Edmund Burke as the ‘experience of the infinite,’ a combination of wonder and horror — few phenomena better match this concept than the sea.
The inconceivability of the sea thus became an even greater source of wonder for the poets of the time, such as Keats and Coleridge; in his poem ‘On the Sea’, Keats depicts the sea as a life-giving, awe-inspiring force, advising us to “[f]east [...] upon the wideness of the sea.” Similarly, Coleridge, in his ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner’, expresses both the terror and allure associated with the sea at the time, embodying a quasi-supernatural, mystifying, and possibly punitive entity.
The concept of Nature itself was revered by the Romantics, and the sea in particular acted both as a symbol of the infinite and a direct contrast to human fragility, as well as a site of renewal and escape. Technological developments also brought Europeans closer to the sea than ever before. With the emergence of the railway in the nineteenth century, the seaside was made accessible to new demographics, and our understanding of the beach changed. The sea still retained its fascination, but drifted from its primary reputation as the site of sailors’ doom into something of a holiday playground.
There are thus many ways of seeing the sea; how we perceive it is largely based on our cultural circumstances. The meanings that we attribute to it have evolved much faster than the sea itself — it has become a mirror for perceiving our changing times and growing understanding. While we may be quite used to the sea at St Andrews, perhaps quickly coming to take it for granted, remembering the space that it has occupied in history’s collective imagination and the countless shifts our perspective has taken might allow us to appreciate the sea, but above all to see it, as if for the first time.
Image from Wikimedia Commons
Comments