Sometimes I feel like my life isn’t measured by minutes, days, or years, but by the amount of young adult novels I read. The more books I finish, the more I move away from the girl I once was, determined never to forget what it was like to be young. I recently understood this, when I read Axie Oh’s The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea. Want to know what it’s about, and why it made me realise I’m truly an adult now? Read on!
The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea is a retelling of a classic Korean myth about a girl who sacrifices herself in the sea to save her blind father. In Oh’s version, there’s Mina, who decides to be the Sea God’s bride – for he needs one every year – in order to save her brother from heartbreak. Once she’s in the Spirit Realm under the sea, it turns out her fate is literally, through a so-called Red String of Fate attached to her hand, connected to the Sea God. Will she ever be able to go back home?
I used to love retellings. I used to love how they shone a new light on those old-fashioned stories, breathing modern life into them. I used to love young adult fiction, too. I used to love how the main characters, who happened to be around my age, were so brave and powerful, and stood up to evil adults because it was the right thing to do. I used to love thinking I was just as strong-willed and determined. I used to think I could save the world. I no longer do.
In The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea, Mina throws herself into the water, but instead of sinking into the sea, she enters the Spirit Realm, a parallel world where all the supernatural beings roam; gods, dragons, and the souls of the dead. Oh, how jealous I would have been of her, had I been younger. How desperately I wanted to flee into another world when I couldn’t stand being in my own!
(The world of children’s and young adult books is filled with other worlds. There’s Harry Potter, who had no idea there was such a thing as magic, let alone a magic school. There’s Lyra in His Dark Materials, who travels through so many worlds. There’s Alice, who falls down a rabbit hole. There’s Lucy, who accidentally visits Narnia. There’s Wendy, who lets Peter Pan take her to Neverland. I could go on, but I won’t. Suffice to say, somehow the idea of other worlds waiting to be explored is almost unbearably interesting to those growing up. Sometimes, but not too often, I still hope that somehow I might be able to escape this old world of mine and be transported into a new one with endless possibilities.)
When Mina enters the Spirit Realm, she spots a red ribbon attached to her hand. Of course, she immediately knows that this is the mythical Red String of Fate, which shows her who her soul mate is. And lo and behold! her Red String of Fate (and really, this phrase is repeated every paragraph or so, which, I think, definitely helps filling the pages of this novel) is connected to the Sea God himself! Even though she wasn’t chosen to be his bride, she still is his soul mate. There’s no denying fate, she thinks.
When I was a teenager, I used to believe in fate. I used to believe that somewhere, someone was waiting for me, and I’d knew the moment I met him. We’d have the same interests, he would accept my love for books (because, of course, he’d read almost as much as I did (even then, I was wildly competitive)), and he would dance along to the same type of old music. I wanted to believe it the second time I met someone special. The third time, however, I knew there was no such thing as fate. (Even though, of course, children’s literature is riddled with it, come to think of it. I think that’s because, as a child, you desperately want to get of some of the responsibility of living. The mistakes you make would not necessarily be your fault. Sometimes, I still look over my shoulder, hoping that someone would comfort me whenever I fail.)
While reading The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea, I noticed that almost every chapter ends with Mina meeting someone she hadn’t expected – and it changes the course of the novel. Sometimes it’s the Sea God, sometimes it’s someone who had died a long time ago, and sometimes it’s someone she hardly knows. It made me think of when I was younger, and how I always thought with every new person I met that my life would change now. I would be introduced to new things, and I would like them, and I would see the world in a brand new way. My life would be better, more glamorous, and I would finally be accepted for who I was. But then, after a while, nothing had changed much. Of course, I would have new friends (sometimes not even that), and I accepted that that was good enough.
(Did you realise, by the way, that so many children’s or young adult books are also about meeting people who send you on your way to greatness? There’s Hagrid in Harry Potter, there’s Gandalf in The Hobbit, there’s almost every single character in Alice in Wonderland, and so on. We all need parents, mentors, or guids, especially when we’re younger. We don’t know how to navigate life, and we need someone to tell us where to go. As we grow older, however, we’re more and more supposed to do things ourselves. We might even be someone else’s guide, even though we have no idea what we’re supposed to do. I think part of growing up means you have to come to terms with the fact that we’re alone.)
I still love children’s books, because they’re so filled with wonder. I can hardly stand reading young adult fiction. I think that’s because somehow teenagers think they’re better than the others; they believe they they are destined to be special. I think it’s the arrogance I don’t like. It might also be jealousy. I wanted to believe I was special – turns out I wasn’t. I wanted to believe Fate had plans with me – turns out she didn’t. I think some part of me still has to accept that I will never enter another world, that there is no such thing as fate, and that meeting someone won’t turn my life upside down. The only thing that happens to people when they fall beneath the sea, is that they drown. Some part of me, however, still wonders whether there’s something else down there.
Maybe I keep reading young adult books because I still believe I will feel young again. Maybe some part of me refuses to be a grown-up.
What did you think of The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea? What is your favourite retelling? Which books remind you of yourself when you were younger? Which fictional world would you visit, if you could? Please let me know in the comments! Also, don’t forget to follow me for more bookish posts!
The Open Book 