Hannamari Ruohonen's "The Lonely Mermaid" originated from a daycare story time and a child's unexpected wish – a story where a mermaid gets run over by a car. Over the years, it grew into a narrative about change, vulnerability, and how each of us needs someone to pick us up when the world doesn't stop. The book was born from two years of work, challenging spreads, childhood book memories, and a desire to articulate that no one is anonymous: everyone who feels pain is the protagonist of a story. Below, Hannamari Ruohonen elaborates on the background of the work and its creation process.
Where did the idea for the book originate?
The mermaid story began many years ago when my now 12-year-old son was still in daycare. They had a story time day, the idea of which was to create a calm storytelling moment when picking up the child in the afternoon. The parent was supposed to read a picture book brought from home to their child before leaving. I asked my son which book I should take from our home library (of several hundred books). He said he didn't want to hear any of them because they were boring. I asked what kind of story he would like. "One where a mermaid gets run over by a car," he replied. "Fair enough," I thought. I wasn't in a hurry that day, so I made a picture book, writing and illustrating a story about a mermaid getting run over by a car. It was named "The Small and Lonely Mermaid," and the story is almost the same as in "The Lonely Mermaid." The only difference from the original version is the emotional turmoil caused by growing new legs. That was a really necessary deepening of the story.
Did real events influence the book's themes?
While making the book, I reflected on the changes we all encounter. Change can be, for example, a divorce, moving, a falling out with a friend, changing daycares, or an illness. After change, certain things never return to how they were. Not all changes are negative, but every change excludes what was before. Even growing up is a change. I still remember the great sorrow I felt as a child when I outgrew my favorite dress. I understood that I would never again fit into that particular dress, which had been so important to me. It felt crushing, even though it was, in a way, a small thing.
There are also moments when one realizes that certain paths will never be possible for them. I don't remember this crisis myself, but I've heard stories that I cried and sulked for several hours when I realized I would never, ever be a puppy. The awareness of the absolute nature of the situation was apparently crushing. A friend of mine, on the other hand, told about her child who experienced a crisis when understanding that as the eldest in the family, she would never be anyone's little sister, but only and exclusively an older sister.
The mermaid in the book experiences a very significant change. She faces great challenges when she desires something better. The conditions outside the sea are different from what she is used to, and the defenseless mermaid becomes a victim of violence. Why does this happen to her? Why couldn't she peacefully adapt to her new environment - why did ending up on the road mean she got run over by a car? Why didn't the car brake?
Is it right to say that the mermaid should have stayed in the sea? Was she just a victim of circumstances? In my opinion, there are too many victims of circumstances in this world - those about whom we easily say that things just happened this way.
There are beggars whom we shrug our shoulders at. People who truly sit in the drizzling rain on a piece of cardboard, while others, equally valuable, walk past on their way to warm homes. These people are not faceless victims of circumstances. Each of them is the protagonist of a story - a mermaid left to weep by the roadside.
There are children who live in war zones. We watch them on our phone screens. We get tears in our eyes and think of adults whose actual goal is the death of those children. But these children are not faceless victims of circumstances. They too are mermaids whom, unfortunately, no one picks up and carries under a blanket to rest.
There is far too much of this kind of anonymity in the world. There are people who are faceless, anonymous to us. There are animals that are even more faceless, like products. Some of us think about them and ways to help or make better choices, some of us look away. But no one is anonymous. Every individual who feels pain is truly the protagonist of a story, a mermaid who deserves to be carried to safety so that something good can grow in place of what was lost. Without that help, nothing good can grow. That's why my story features a quiet grandmother who offers something good from her humble means. The help is concrete: rest and nourishment, a silent hug: nothing more. Time heals so much, as long as basic needs are met and there is love and quiet acceptance in the air.
What was the biggest challenge in making the book?
I worked on the book for two years. The long timeline meant that the illustrations evolved at their own pace over time, and the oldest spreads ultimately didn't fit the story at all. I ended up redoing the same spreads again and again, and only at the last minute did I start to be even slightly satisfied. However, it wasn't until the book arrived from the printer that I could see that the whole thing worked well enough for me to dare to read the work myself.
Sketch
Final image
Is there a particular idea, spread, or page in the book that is especially important to you?
The most important and simultaneously most challenging spread in the book is when the Mermaid's tail has been severed. There, the story takes a very dramatic, violent turn. The tail, upon which the Mermaid's entire identity and way of living in the world are built, disappears. The Mermaid instantly understands the consequences of the situation and its finality.
Sketch
Final image
I wanted to use the text to articulate as much as possible of the Mermaid's thought process for the reader, so that they wouldn't have to stop and ponder what the situation means to the Mermaid. The challenges came from the word choices I used to describe the Mermaid's physical reaction. In the text, the Mermaid "whimpers miserably": I didn't want her to scream in shock or tremble in terror.
In the illustrations, challenges were posed by the shape of the Mermaid's eyes and mouth, as well as the position of her hands. The hands should not cover the Mermaid's eyes or mouth – she is not so horrified that she cannot look. The Mermaid’s gaze bravely meets the cut surface directly, and her expression indicates that while she is certainly concerned, it’s not much more than that: I hoped that a touch of absurdity, an exaggerated fantasy tale, could even be perceived in the situation. I tried to capture an expression that would suit someone whose birthday cake had just fallen on the floor. In this way, I distanced the reader from the protagonist's agony.
I've heard that young readers have been fascinated by the neat cut surface left by the severed tail – it's like a “salmon slice” or a “piece of sushi”. The image has even been shown to friends who visit. I am proud of what I've heard.
The background color of the image is a strong yellow. The color is a memory from my childhood book experiences. The same yellow shines in Gunilla Bergström's book Alfons Åberg Gets a Friend (1979). The image contains only a few elements: simple stairs (like a saw blade) rising from the bottom left to the top right of the spread, black lightning bolts shooting from the top right corner (symbolizing the boy's crying from the upstairs), Mulperi (Alfons’ imaginary friend) disappearing into the top left of the image, and Alfons Åberg, who dares to both run up those endlessly long, jagged, railing-less stairs and bravely approach the screaming torrent of power with lightning. The entire image area is pure yellow. All these elements together fascinated me endlessly. Alfons, who had been a timid child, proved to be so brave! Even though yellow blazed throughout the entire stairwell! When I was sketching my own mermaid spread in my mind, the yellow background color was an obvious choice. It was the most effective of the shock colors in my mind.
What inspires you in everyday life?
I work both in a library and as a student assistant in an elementary school. In the library, I am most inspired by picture books that I get to acquire for the library's collection. My favorite illustrators include Beatrice Alemanga, Elisabet Ericson, Emma Virke, Anna-Karin Garham, and Emelie Östergren (I live in Swedish-speaking Åland, so a large part of the picture books are of Swedish origin, although I acquire almost all Finnish-Swedish children's and youth literature that is published for the library). As a student assistant, I am inspired by the observed conversations, emotions, expressions, and dispositions of the students – the whole spectrum of life.
What would be your dream project?
I believe that every next project is my dream project. At least I try to think that way. I assume that in this way I focus on making every book something I can be satisfied with. Especially since at the moment I haven't been able to illustrate manuscripts written by others, every book project is entirely my own. Then I have the opportunity to build each new work into the next fulfillment of my dreams!