The most recommended mermaid books

The Merry Spinster falls into my big bucket of fairytale retelling faves, but it hardly sticks to tradition: rather than simply following old plots, Lavery draws on the tone and style of classic fairy tales to create a gender-warped world where daughters use he/him pronouns and mermaids are sort of, but distinctly not, girls. Even better, the playful attitude towards gender now seems to foreshadow Lavery’s own coming out and transition, both occurring after he published this book—something that fills me with a special kind of trans-author love. Reading this for the first time, I had the sensation of slipping pleasantly into an utter dreamworld of gender/sexuality beauty, like a warm bath: I recommend you fall in, too.

I have included a work of fiction in this list both because it is an extraordinary example of period fiction and because it highlights the potential richness of many of the stories we tell as historians. Several of the books I’ve highlighted in this list, as well as my own work, draw on the records of specific people – often merchants, but also consumers and manufacturers – to explore issues surrounding business history. Imogen Hermes Gowar’s Jonah Hancock exemplifies the risk and uncertainty navigated by early-modern merchants as well as the potential cost of their ambition and expertly navigates the ways in which information spread through the streets and in the coffee-houses of eighteenth-century London. This novel was well-deservedly shortlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2018.

Clara knows two things about her adopted sister: one, she’s the best friend Clara has ever had and, two, once she turns into a mermaid, she’ll rejoin her birth family in the sea and be gone forever. Nothing Clara does can stop the process, and once Maren is fully transformed, longing for the sea begins to kill her. But it’s a dangerous journey from the hills of Pennsylvania to the Atlantic—especially when there are nefarious characters who would love to get their hands on a real mermaid. Personally, as a mother of two sons, the theme of choosing to help someone you love fulfill their own destiny rather than keeping them back to complete your own happiness is a bittersweet one to ponder. 

Julia Langbein is an art historian who specializes in nineteenth-century popular humor. Of course, just because someone studies comedy, it doesn’t mean that they’re funny. Luckily for us, Langbein is hilarious. American Mermaid is, in turns, smart, cheeky, cynical, beautiful, silly, ridiculous, and profound.

I couldn’t put it down, but I know that its quick-read quality was deceptive. American Mermaid, with its story-within-a-story structure, must have taken incredible skill to fine-tune and layer. With this caliber of debut, I can’t wait to see what else Langbein has in store for us. 

In this book, a little girl learns to hear the trees and see characters and creatures when her mother asks her to be quiet. Poetry is made when we stop to listen and be still. Each page builds from the last, and Pendziwol's poetic language draws the reader in. My poet’s heart resonates with this book’s message in a deep way. I think it is vital for children to experience a small amount of boredom because it can be the catalyst for creativity and ingenuity. So don't be afraid to tell your kids to be still! You're doing them a favor. Let this charming book lead the way.

I vote that this novella by Cassandra Khaw be made into an animated limited series, opening on a mermaid who leaves her two children after they’ve devoured what is left of the city that had to be burned to the ground to prevent the spread of the plague.

They devoured because they have teeth, as mermaids do. The children also have “supple lips”, as their father had, a prince who abducted and forced the mermaid to marry him then cut her tongue out.

She leaves them and their destruction behind to wander the countryside with a plague doctor who wears a vulture mask. It was the plague doctor who insisted they burn everything to the ground. The unusual pair soon find their way to a village where saints decide which people can be brought back from the dead in (on theme) Frankenstein-ian ways. A perfect animation.

This book has this soft slow kind of magic that would be wonderful for winding down right before bedtime. The images flow through the book and guide you down into the colorful glowing depths where a family of mermaids guard the secrets of the sea. The message is lovely as well. Little Pearl the mermaid discovers that even the smallest of responsibilities, when nurtured properly, can grow to be hugely impactful.

It’s easy to find books about vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and witches… but very rarely do you stumble across a young adult book about sirens. Not the mermaid kind (we’ve already covered mermaids), but still sinister, manipulative, and dangerous. Despite this threatening presence, this book is absolutely hilarious and a fantastic adventure. It’s also an LGBT story written by an LGBT author who has always said that this was a book he wrote for his younger self. To let him, and kids like him, know that he’s not alone. And I just love that. 

Nia's lifelong dream is to become an avatar, one of the ruling mermaids of Atlantis. But when she is passed over for the opportunity, she must embark on a quest to prove herself. This journey takes her far beyond the sea and everything she knows to the world of dry land. Arthurian legends, mermaids, magic, Atlantis, a heroine’s journey – how can you go wrong?

I can’t help it, I am an absolute sucker for a girl dressing up as a boy. It’s a classic trope in lesbian fiction, and while it’s reminiscent of trans masculine narratives, it’s also a fantastical reflection of butch/femme dynamics, and these two things can co-exist in the literary world. Flora/Florian is a really special protagonist, and her relationship with Evelyn is as exciting as the overall story. Tokuda-Hall has clearly had so much fun weaving in a variety of fantasy elements, throwing us mermaids, witches, pirates, and, of course, the Sea.