The thought of the drowned children of pregnant slaves who were thrown overboard turning into mermaids is intriguing and also horrifying. In yet another way white supremist violence destroyed black bodies, a book about this tragedy was turned into something magical.

In The Deep, Yetu, one of the wajinru, is an historian of her people. Yetu keeps the history of the wajinru and their origins inside her, reliving every painful memory until she can briefly release it to her people as other historians have done for centuries. Yetu wants to release these memories and never get them back. Because how can a people live freely knowing how much pain is a part of them?

When I first began reading this book, I was a little lost. The beginning is a little jumbled, but it quickly rights itself. Yetu IS black people and how we sometimes feel living in this world: we want the pain to just disappear. When Yetu does just that, she must learn if what was inside of her made her who she is all along.

I got through this book pretty quickly and loved the idea of the result of such an incredible horror creating a people who thrive and live away from the evils of white supremacy. A people that can live among the whales and other sea creatures, building their own without the threat of it being burned to the ground because of a racist lie. A people who can breath under water, living in the deepest, darkest parts of the sea and calling it home. But this book isn’t just about mermaids. It’s about having the strength to live through the pain of the past, even when it seems like it will consume you. It’s about learning how to get back up when things feel too heavy to go on. Realizing you’re not alone even when you’re convinced there’s no one to reach out to.

The Deep, the new novella by Campbell Award-nominated author Rivers Solomon (An Unkindness of Ghosts), is actually the third iteration of artistic works based on a singularly provocative premise: what if the children of pregnant African women thrown overboard to drown during the slave trade transformed into water-breathers, and build a whole society in the deep ocean?

The band clipping. (made up of Hamilton’s Tony-winning Thomas Jefferson Daveed Diggs and producers William Hutson and Jonathan Snipes) saw tantalizing glimpses of this world in the largely instrumental music of a Detroit techno duo called Drexciya. So taken with the idea of a utopian underwater civilization populated by the descendants of enslaved Africans, they produced the Hugo-nominated song also titled “The Deep,” a six-minute, textually complex aural epic that tells the story of the Deep’s rising after their kingdom is bombed due to oil prospecting by the surface dwellers. The song was featured in an episode of the radio program This American Life and later attracted the attention of Navah Wolfe, formerly an editor with the science fiction publisher Saga Press, who worked with the band and Rivers Solomon to reimagined the song as a novel. Like the song, Solomon packs a lot into a slender package, giving new voice to the story of people borne out of the horrors of the Middle Passage.

Yetu is a historian of the water-dwelling wajinru. Historians like her have been collecting memories since the time the first mothers—the two-legs who died as their children were born into the deep. This is an act performed by a sort of touch-transfer by those electro-sensitive enough to hold the memories and share them. The existence of a historian like Yetu allows the wajinru to live without the burden of memory; it is also killing her. As the book opens, Yetu is drifting in dangerous waters, lost in remembering. Her mother, Amaba, rescues her, chiding her for her thoughtlessness. But Yetu isn’t thoughtless; she is so full of thought she feels like she’s been emptied of herself. When she tries to explain, telling stories of their people’s past, her mother finds her incomprehensible: her mother cannot understand because she, herself, has no memory.

The role of the historian didn’t sit so heavily on Yetu’s predecessors, but the way her electro-sensitivity is described makes me think she’s neurodiverse from many of her people. She is hurting, in part, because of the way things are done, ways that don’t necessarily account for the divergent. Holding the memories of her entire people is overwhelming. At an annual ritual where Yetu shares her memories in a kind of communion, letting the wajinru live and feel their history for the length of the ceremony, she runs away before taking the memories back. The wajinru are left circling inside a protective structure known as the Womb, lost in the very memories that so overburdened their historian.

The image of the womb is fitting. The very first wajinru were born into the primordial ocean—born breathing water just as they did in the womb. When Yetu leaves her people, they are gestating in another way: lost in reverie while their historian breaches the surface the water, her leave taking invoking a kind of deliverance. As the holder of the wajinru’s memory, Yetu’s search for herself in the wider ocean and on the edges of the land is a search for the wajinru themselves. Yetu’s experiences after leaving her people are intercut with stories of the wajinru—both their bleak origins, which left motherless children alone in the fathomless deep, and the story of how they came together to build a new kind of existence. Their history may begin in horror, but their stories encompass love and power too. The parallel with the real world history of the descendants of enslaved Africans is unmistakeable, and will be as resonant to some readers as it is discomfiting to others.

After excising the paradoxical emptiness of remembering everything, Yetu slowly, carefully begins to heal in mind and spirit. She washes up in a tidal pool and makes tenuous acquaintance with several two-legs. Her most vital relationship is with Oori, a taciturn old salt who is, in similarly heartbreaking ways, also the keeper of her people’s memory. When the time comes to leave the tide pool, it is another kind of birth. Their last interaction in the story brought tears to my eyes, and not of sadness. Solomon has a knack for creating tremulous moments of connection that are searing in their fragility; the ending of their debut novel, An Unkindness of Ghosts, is similarly emotional.

The Deep is about the impossible weight of memory, a burden that must be shared to be borne. It is beautiful and terrible and vital, a story that comes from the very depths of of our rough history, transforming as it surfaces and then returns. What was thrown down can rise up.

WHAT THE WORLD

THAT'S FANTASY. FANTASY AT ITS BEST.

I was super impressed by this book. Immediately it stole my breath with details and the impression of a new world. The MC didn't act human, because she wasn't human. I was so thankful for that. Yetu was a creature of the deep. One that descended from the pregnant women thrown overboard of slave ships.

That in itself is so original . . . I am astounded. The beauty of being able to read a Fantasy without stumbling across any cliches.

The author voice reminded me of something closer to the way C. S. Lewis. and J. R. R. Tolkien told stories, but a modernized version. I. Loved. It.

Description ~ 500 stars!!!! GAH. The way everything moved in this world was at such a deep level, you felt it, you smelled it, you loved it, you lived it. These beings were something else entirely and yet so human.

Setting ~ The ocean, oh the ocean. How it was magnificent.

Romance ~ It was different. *coughs* And I couldn't tell if the author was trying to suggest that anyone can be this way or if she was just adding this as another thing to make her creatures different. But basically warjin had both male and female organs and could decide to be either. . . So they were neutral; really no gender.

Content ~ There is some bloody descriptions, and sexually nothing happened, but such things were discussed in a conversation. It was very light and very casual (more or less human and warjin were curious about the other).

Characters ~ I didn't really connect with the characters. . .because of the way the story was told. But I really appreciated how Yetu learned that her people's history was important. A people without a history become unknown to themselves.

The Message ~ Your history is important. Don't forget your history. *nods* Where did you come from?

Overall ~ I liked it. It was beautifully surrounded by details, and carefully written. Very professional. I loved how the author brought about Yetu's discovery in the importance of her history. It was unique and praiseworthy.

**FTC DISCLOSURE** I received a complimentary copy in exchange for a review from NetGalley!! (Thanks NetGalley) This review is completely my opinion, so please don't be offended. Thanks!

The premise of fantasy novella The Deep by Rivers Solomon is so intriguing that I was sold on it immediately. The descendants of pregnant African women that were thrown overboard by slavers during the Middle Passage became mermaids and established an undersea society. I requested it from Net Galley and was thrilled when I was approved just before the release of this publication. I couldn't wait to read it. I prioritized it as my first read of November and this is my honest review.

I discovered that the premise of The Deep wasn't the original creation of Rivers Solomon. The men's names listed on the cover are the members of Clipping who wrote a song inspired by the work of Drexciya , and developed it into an Afro-Futurist story line that goes well beyond Solomon's novella. I'd love to see Clipping's entire plot played out in a full length novel. If you want to know more about Clipping's song "The Deep" go to the web page that I've hyperlinked.

Readers will also need to know that they will not be seeing the first hand accounts of kidnapped African women who experienced the horrors of the Middle Passage in Solomon's version.

The protagonist of this novella is Yetu who is the historian of this underwater culture. This doesn't mean that she's written books about their history. She carries their entire history within her mind. Yetu tells us repeatedly about the pain of these memories. I can imagine that they would be painful, but it's difficult for me to fully identify with Yetu if we aren't allowed to experience any of these historical memories in the course of the narrative. We are told about them in some sort of chaotic montage. Since Yetu's difficulty with enduring her people's history is supposed to be the central conflict of Solomon's The Deep, I think it's really crucial that we feel some part of it with her.

I don't claim that this novella is a complete failure. We are shown part of Yetu's life before she became a historian and what happened to her later in the narrative. I felt that these aspects of the novella were stronger and more emotionally resonant. Some might argue that these do represent the heart of the novella. It's been called a re-telling of Hans Christian Anderson's tale, "The Little Mermaid". I do see that a radically revisionist retelling is part of what Solomon is trying to accomplish here, but I don't perceive it as central.

I think Solomon was attempting to write about history, its transmission and its importance to society as a whole. These weighty themes somehow got lost in the telling. The message got submerged in the ocean's depths. From an intellectual standpoint, I can see that Solomon intended to include these ideas. Yet she didn't do any more than touch on them before they sank, and disappeared from view. This reviewer is not a deep sea diver. So I cannot retrieve them. I can only tell you that it seems to me that the heart of Rivers Solomon's The Deep is missing.

I loved the development of the rich and original concept of a society of aquatic fishy-hominids (the wajinru) living in the ocean, the descendants of pregnant women murdered at sea by slavers. The main character, Yetu, lives in this world, and holds all the memories of all of her wajinru kin so that they can be free of the horrific memories and live a joyful, simple life in the present. Holding all of these memories is torturous for Yetu, and she decides to find another way for them to live.

(It is very similar to the plot of <i>The Giver</i> by Lois Lowry, my favorite childhood book. On one hand it was familiar and pleasant, on the other hand I couldn't shake the feeling that I had been on this ride once before.)

In general, I'm glad I read it, and it's the kind of book you want someone else to read so you can discuss it with them.

I first heard about THE DEEP from a podcast review only recently; others will have had a much longer story with this series of tellings than I, and what I love about Solomon's book, and clipping.'s song before it, and Drexciya's music before that, is that they all exist in conversation with each other, endlessly recursive, endlessly sorrowful and full of unearned gifts of knowledge and wisdom and kindness, and all of them valid entry points into the larger mass of story that is THE DEEP.

On the surface, THE DEEP is a weird novella that takes place in either a parallel history or an alternate history or a future history rooted in one of the ultimate crimes ever committed by one person against another: the slave trade, in particular the superfluously callous disposal of pregnant women overboard during ocean crossings. People will be tempted to call it Afrofuturism for obvious reasons, as former Saga Press Senior Editor Navah Wolfe* does in her introductory note to the advance reader copy I was so damn lucky to be gifted (many thanks to Saga and BookishFirst for that). Time is wobbly in this novella, and I wouldn't have it any other way, but it certainly does make tense and labeling a problematic exercise.

But THE DEEP is many-layered, as one might expect both from a book inspired by a song inspired by another body of work, and also as one might expect from an author such as Rivers Solomon. There are many stories to be told about the events it employs as inspiration, but it is a credit to all of the creators (singers, songwriters, performers, author, and editor) involved that this is a story about both the restorative and the continually injurious functions of memory and grief, their inextricability, and the beauty of building relationships with those who carry the burden of memory (and loss) alongside us. The idea is an especially potent one to me, the failed writer who cannot even revisit my graduate thesis on three family forgettings without reliving memories my body isn't ready to handle. Speaking from personal experience, the twin physical and psychological tolls of remembering critical memories as described in THE DEEP are very, very real. Like, I'm-currently-on-medication-and-seeking-intensive-therapy-for-that-kind-of-remembering real. This book speaks to that reality in a way that is sensitive and accurate.

Stylistically, this book was not quite even. Those who loved the style and language of AN UNKINDNESS OF GHOSTS will find nothing to dislike here, but I do occasionally find Solomon's voice dry and distant, or perhaps more accurate a touch more disjointed than I personally enjoy. There is some skipping around with the point of view that makes sense on a story mechanics level but kicked me out of my immersion, and that might play a role. But while I note those elements which detracted a bit from my personal experience, I cannot stress how important and valuable I think this novella to be. It's a compelling thought experiment layered with additional compelling thought experiments, and the more I delve into the backstory of THE DEEP (and clipping.'s process and inspiration as well), the more I fall in love with this weird little game of telephone among all these amazing, excellent storytellers. Many thanks to Rivers Solomon for such powerful words; many thanks to Navah Wolfe for asking for them; many thanks to the band clipping. for the song that inspired Wolfe's request; many thanks to the folks behind This American Life who commissioned the song; many thanks to Drexciya for the mythology; and many, many thanks to those who have dedicated their lives to remembering what so many of us find convenient, or necessary, to forget ... even in part.

* Wolfe may no longer be with Saga because of restructuring, but as is evidenced by THE DEEP (brought into book form in large part by her efforts although released after her departure) her work will continue to bring much credit to the imprint ... and all future imprints, authors, and entities associated with her name.

This was an intriguing read! It was dark and intense! A page turner that kept me on the edge of my seat!

I voluntarily read and reviewed an advanced copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own

The Deep by Rivers Solomon; Daveed Diggs, William Hutson and Jonathan Snipes was such an amazing novel! I loved everything about it

I actually kind of hate myself for not enjoying this book more than I did. I think I just went into it expecting something very different from what it ultimately was. This is very lyrical fiction, which is not surprising considering that it originated as a song (a brilliant song, by the way). However, I was hoping for more plot, more action, and more history. While reading this wasn’t the most enjoyable experience for me, I can’t deny it’s beauty and I appreciate it wholeheartedly for what it is and the story it tells.

Thanks to Netgalley and Saga Press for the advanced copy.

First, I'd like to thank Simon and Schuster for an advanced eARC of The Deep by Rivers Solomon.

I first became acquainted with An Unkindness of Ghosts, which I loved. As with An Unkindness of Ghosts, Solomon's prose is tight and complex. So much happens in this short work.

Yetu carries the memories of her ancestors. She is a descendent of pregnant slave women who were thrown overboard by the slave traders. There is a scene when in which a memory is recounted of a pregnant slave woman being thrown overboard and how a sea dweller was there for the birth of the baby. Although a brief description of the dead mother and and this living being spring forth from her body is so incredibly powerful and impactful. I immediately thought about the resilience of humans and humanities will to survive regardless of the circumstances.

The characters that Solomon introduces in this novella are complex. They have so many layers to them. The Wajinru as a whole is absolutely fascinating. I thought it interesting that they didn't want to remember the pain, the trauma, the mistreatment of their ancestors, except once a year; and how they forced one 'person' to do the remembering. We've all heard the saying, "Ignorance is bliss" and that goes for the Wajinru. Because they opted to be ignorant of their past and how they came to be they lived an idyllic under water life. BUT Yetu's life or the life of any historian for that matter was less than idyllic.

I had never heard of The Clipping or their song The Deep until I saw that Solomon had a new book coming out based off of the song, and let me tell you they are both powerful. This is a book I can not recommend enough.

5+ Stars

Let me say upfront that there are a lot of people I have a lot of admiration for in this project and one, Navah Wolfe, is NOT listed on the front cover. (I hope you read this Saga Press and Simon and Schuster, because reasons.) I really loved Rivers Solomon's An Unkindness of Ghosts and The Deep was already on my radar because of the aspect dealing with women being tossed from slaver ships because they were pregnant. (Pregnant women being such a bother.*) Anyway, this whole novella is worth your time. Though a fantasy, it has so much to say about embracing difference, about modern Afrofolklore, and about Rivers Solomon as a growing force in Afrofuturism. And let's not forget Clipping, who inspired the novella.

What do we ask of our historians? Do we ask them to remember the best, the worst, the everything? Do we ever consider the impact on historians who parse the very worst of history? Do we ever wonder if they sleep at night? If the darkest moments of history steal their peace, their very breath? Yetu is both fragile and strong, a character embodying everything that is human and not. She also embodies the history of the Wajiru people. She's a compelling character.

This novella already had me at its premise, and it has moments of immense emotional power. Where are we all from? No, really. Didn't we crawl out of the sea? What about those who went into it? And woe to the entity that is the Historian who has to remember. This novella is on my list of Hugo nominees for Best Novella, and also has my future Locus Award vote.

The audiobook, narrated by Daveed Diggs, is terrific. Thanks for letting me "read" it again, Libro.fm.

*Full disclosure: my paternal family, some of which is from Sub-Saharan Africa, is from the Canary Islands, which were involved in the slave trade. The underlying premise of this book engenders a rather visceral reaction.

I received a digital review copy of this novella from Saga Press, and also the audiobook from Libro.fm.

I first heard of this story when I was listening to an episode of This American Life. They featured a song by the group clipping. Voiced by Daveed Diggs (of Hamilton fame) it was a short Hugo Nominated song about a race of mer-people descended of the African enslaved women murdered during the Middle Passage.

This short book is an extension of that story. One where Yetu, is responsible for the memories of her people. It is an absorbing, atmospheric book about the terrible weight of memory and shared trauma. Yetu has to learn how to handle the responsibility of being her people receptacle for pain, and the answer lies in accepting the help of her community.

This is a wonderful little volume. Afrofuturism is an astounding genre that, in this instance, blends science fiction, fantasy and Black culture. Please listen to the song first if you’re going to read this book, it is kind of a prequel to the story and it is fantastic. I’m including it below. I can’t recommend this story enough. It is remarkable.

Song for this book: The Deep by clipping.

Wow.

Haunting. Magical. Deeply emotional.

Yetu remembers. She holds the memories for all of the Wajinru. Remembering is too traumatic for everyone to always carry the history of their people.....the fact they descend from pregnant African slave women tossed over board from slave ships. Born under the waves, they forgot the world of humans. Once a year, they have The Rememberance. Yetu will tell everyone the story of their people. But, carrying all the memories, all the pain, all of their past is tearing Yetu apart from the inside out. She flees from her people and goes on a journey to discover herself. But she discovers the power of the past, the memories, the emotions.....deep, so deep.

This book carries quite an impact in its few pages. Powerful story. Perfectly written.

The story is based on the 2017 song The Deep by rap group, The Clipping. I listened to the song several times while reading this novella. The song and this story are powerful and haunting.

I'm not going to say anything more about the plot.....no spoilers. Read this without any prior knowledge....and feel the emotions. This isn't a story you just read.....it's a story you Feel.

Read it. Feel it.

This is the first book I've read by Rivers Solomon. I'm definitely going to read An Unkindness of Ghosts!

**I voluntarily read a review copy of this novella from Saga Press via NetGalley. All opinions expressed are entirely my own.**

I loved An Unkindness of Ghosts so of course I had to read this! The moment I saw that gorgeous cover I was hooked. I'll be getting the hardcover just so I can marvel at it whenever I pass by. I'd had it on my list for a while, but when I got an email from netgalley saying they had it I couldn't believe my luck! I could get to read this early??? YES PLEASE. I was so stoked when I got approved and read it pretty much immediately. The story is just as haunting and beautifully written as I expected it to be. Just wow. It's nothing like I've ever read before. I would definitely recommend picking this up.

Yetu is the historian of her people. Descended from the pregnant women thrown overboard of slave ships, their history is too traumatic to carry the memories with them always, so Yetu carries them. Once per year, during the remembering, she shares the memories, her people experience them, but then they go back to forgetting, living in ignorant bliss while Yetu has to live with the horrible memories forever. Unable to cope any longer, Yetu flees and discovers the surface world, learning more about the people with whom she shares a history. She learns that in order to survive, her people will need to reclaim their painful pasts and deal with the memories.

I tore through this book in just under two days. I had been looking forward to it for months and was stoked when I got approved for a galley. I am a sucker for mermaid books, particularly anything with interesting lore or something more than a mermaid falling in love with a human with little more depth.

Talk about depth. This book isn’t called The Deep for nothing. It address the African Diaspora from a completely new light, and I loved the creativity of Yetu, her people, and their history. I loved Yetu. She is deeply flawed and doesn’t understand her painful lot in life, and I love the discoveries she makes and the lessons she learns. For such a young being, her pain has taught her a lot.

It’s out today, so if you’re looking for some new titles to add to your TBR and enjoy a quick but deep read, definitely check this one out!

The algorithms are getting better and better at predicting which books I’m going to like. The upcoming novella The Deep by Rivers Solomon (with Daveed Diggs, William Hutson, and Jonathan Snipes) popped up in my book recommendations in several places. With so many computer systems suggesting it to me and a teaser description that promised a multitude of elements to intrigue me, I jumped at the chance to preview it. The Deep manages to speak to so much in a way that is unique, succinct and direct. It conveys incredible depths of emotion and humanity through creatures that only exist because their ancestors’ humanity was rejected and devalued. So, they became something else. Something that remembers. Sort of.

Yetu is one of the wajinru—perhaps, the most important of the wajinru. She is the Historian. She holds the collective memories of all the wajinru who came before her stretching six hundred years back to the first of her kind. She remembers that her people were born of the pregnant, enslaved African women who were cast overboard during the crossing of the Atlantic. The rest of her kind are spared the pain of the specific knowledge. They only have vague emotional impressions of their history, allowing them to live and thrive in the present. And they have. Their society in the deepest parts of the ocean is strong and ready for the annual Remembering. Yetu is frayed, however. It isn’t just the knowledge of the memories she carries; it’s their ancestors’ very essence and the weight of it threatens to overtake her completely and erase who she is. So, when the time comes to temporarily transfer that essence to the gathered wajinru during the sacred ceremony, Yetu does something selfish and rash.

There are too many layers to the way The Deep is written and built to get into it effectively in a short review. It demands to be read (and reread and analyzed at length). It’s one of those books that makes me want to go back to my college lit classes where we would spend an entire week of lecture periods dissecting it. It touches on most of the themes I find myself drawn to over and over again—memory, the relationship between individuals and their society, how history is shared and how it impacts the actions of today, the relationships between parents and children…

Then there’s the ingenious concept of the wajinru themselves. Science fiction and fantasy merge as they gesture to the mythology of mermaids while also delving into a future that paradoxically looks and feels both alien and familiar. Their history between their origins and when we meet them through Yetu demonstrates both humanity’s strengths and weaknesses, what’s worth holding on to and what’s worth forgetting. But then brilliantly circles back to what the dangers of forgetting are.

Lastly, there’s the extra-textual story of how the novella came to be. It’s a book, inspired by a song, that was written for a radio program in what the afterword describes as a game of artistic Telephone.

Well, it’s a game I highly recommend everyone join in playing. I’ve done my part by writing a review of a book inspired by a song written for a radio show.

The Deep will be available for purchase starting November 5, 2019.

The Deep by Rivers Solomon (with an assist from the band "clipping.").

The Deep is one of the more highly anticipated novellas of the year in the SF/F world due to the story's unique origins: the novella is inspired and takes its name from an afrofuturist (afrofantasy?) song of the same name by clipping - the band that includes Daveed Diggs, and has branched into SF/F in its songs more than a few times. In fact the original song actually earned its own Hugo nomination, featuring a fantasy world in which the children of pregnant African slaves thrown overboard during the slave trade morph into beings who can live under the sea and eventually come into conflict with surface dwellers. And the author who is adapting that song into this novella, Rivers Solomon, was twice a Campbell nominee for Best New Writer, with the powerful but tragic novel: The Unkindness of Ghosts. So yeah, it's got one hell of a pedigree.

The novella features that same origin concept, but is its own inspired story with the themes you would expect, and perhaps a few you wouldn't - themes of a people being thrown away, a people being forced to adapt, of the value of memories and history to a people that may be dying off/be split apart, and of one's self. It's a fascinating work, and well worth your time, making good on the promise of its pedigree.

Plot Summary: Yetu is the historian of her sea-dwelling people, the Wajinru. That role is is of utmost importance to her people, because aside from the historian, her people do not remember the events of the past - except for the yearly Remembrance, when the historian shares the memories of her people's past - of how they evolved from the children of pregnant mothers thrown overboard during the slave trade to what they are now, and the events that have happened since - with her people. But for Yetu, the role is nearly unbearable, as the memories of her ancestors constantly overwhelm her own self, making it hard for Yetu to know the difference between the past and present. And so, during the Remembrance, when the memories are passed along to her people, Yetu runs away before they can give the memories back. But as Yetu runs far away and encounters the two legged people on the surface, she'll find that her self may not be what she thought it was, and the value of history, even a painful history, may proof to be more to her than she ever thought.

Thoughts: The Deep is, like Solomon's prior novel, extremely well written, allowing the story to showcase both the setting and the main character and her feelings, and to really hit hard on the themes of the story. I will say this - whereas the original song goes more overtly into the conflict between the surface dwellers (descendants of the slavers) and the Wajinru (descendants of the tossed overboard slaves), this novella focuses less on that conflict - which still has happened in the past - and more on the Wajinru themselves, and the meaning of their and others' histories to their self identities.

It's a fascinating story, told mainly (although there are some interludes focusing on the memories and history of the Wajinru people) from Yetu's perspective, and contrasting Yetu's perspective (history is agonizing, and the burden of the past ancestral history overwhelms her self to the point it feels like dying) with that of a surface dweller, the last of her people, who dreads the loss of her history one she is gone. And that contrast is made even further with Yetu's people, who try to have it both ways, remembering once a year through another while being able to let go of the past entirely for the rest of the time. It's a really interesting setup that makes some obvious analogies, but works really well. As does the romantic sideplot by the way, between two individuals of different people's trying to deal with such contrasts. I suspect if I had time, I could write a whole essay on what Solomon has done here, but I prefer not to do that - and really, you should read this yourselves to get the idea.

Our mothers were pregnant African women thrown overboard while
crossing the Atlantic Ocean on slave ships. We were born
breathing water as we did in the womb. We built our home on the
sea floor, unaware of the two-legged surface dwellers until
their world came to destroy ours. With cannons, they searched
for oil beneath our cities. Their greed and recklessness forced
our uprising. Tonight, we remember

lyrics of The Deep by clipping

From an EDM concept album by Drexciya to a rap song by clipping to a novella by Rivers Solomon. The premise: An underwater world populated by the children of slaves who were thrown overboard on the journey across the Atlantic. Each artist has taken Drexciya’s world and created their own stories inside it.

The Deep focuses on the character of Yetu who is the Historian of the wajinru, the mermaid descendants of the slaves. She holds the memories of all the others of the community and once a year they hold the Remembrance in which Yetu bonds with all of the wajinru. It is an emotional ceremony that bares Yetu’s soul to the rest of the group… it is painful and the burden of holding six hundred years worth of memories is something she doesn’t think she can handle any longer. Yet, she is one of a long line of Historians and the responsibility is heavy… What will she do? The individual strain vs the obligation to hold the collective mythos and traditions…

In under two hundred pages, Solomon crafts a mesmerizing piece of Afrofuturism about memory, power, and the collective group. I was blown away by the worldbuilding and the chilling intersection of history and fantasy. Solomon also has a way of describing movement of the characters through and around the water, a perfect depiction of the waves and currents as a metaphor for the various character’s emotions.

Yetu is young woman who is thrust into this role of Historian by the community and the prior person in that role. Even after an attempted suicide brought on the pressure of holding that weight, she continues to be forced to do the task. What revelations will she have over the course of the novella?

A supernatural journey through history and a young mermaid’s internal conflicts, The Deep is a book of haunting revelations and gripping worldbuilding.

The nitty-gritty: From a tragic footnote in African history, a wondrous creature is born. Rivers Solomon tackles the weighty themes of memory and history with a painful yet hopeful story.

The origins of this book are fascinating. The Deep started as a concept by electronic music duo Drexciya. Next, experimental hip-hop group clipping. was commissioned to write their version of Drexciya’s vision into a song called The Deep. When editor Navah Wolfe at Saga Press heard clipping’s song, she was convinced it would also make great fiction. She in turn asked Rivers Solomon to write a story based on the clipping. song, and thus The Deep was born. Like I said, fascinating! This is the first time I’ve read anything by Solomon, although their An Unkindness of Ghosts still lurks on my TBR and I will read it eventually.

Yetu is a wajinru, a mermaid-like creature who lives with thousands of her kind, far below the surface of the ocean. But Yetu is much more than a wajinru. She is the Historian, the one wajinru tasked with keeping all the memories of their past inside her. Once a year, during the Remembrance, all the wajinru gather so that Yetu can share her memories with them. Because these memories are so intense and tragic, all the wajinru except for Yetu aren’t able to stand the intensity of having to live with those memories. After the Remembrance is over, the vivid memories Yetu has shared only linger for a short time, then the rest of the wajinru go about their lives, blissfully unaware of those memories until the next Remembrance comes along.

Meanwhile, Yetu must shoulder their burden all the time, and it’s wearing her down. When the story begins, it’s time for that year’s Remembrance, but this time, instead of taking the memories back from her people at the end, Yetu decides to run away.

As the reader follows Yetu’s incredible journey, we learn about the history of the wajinru as well. This history was one of my favorite parts of the story, that the wajinru originated from the unborn babies of pregnant slaves, who were thrown overboard slave ships in order to conserve resources. It’s a horrific image (and all true, part of the diabolical history of African slavery) that sets the tone for this story. Solomon describes the babies being rescued by whales, who nursed them back to health with their own milk. The whales gathered more and more wajinru together until they formed a family, and their numbers continued to grow. She also remembers the Tidal War, a bloody battle between the wajinru and the “two legs” (humans) who nearly wiped them out. These are the histories that Yetu must hold within herself at all times, dense and painful memories that she can only escape from during the remembering.

We see the story unfold from Yetu’s point of view, as she makes the terrible decision to abandon her kin in order to save herself. The memories are killing her and she knows she must escape in order to continue living. I loved Yetu’s often ragged emotions, full of rage and pain at feeling so much all the time, frustrated that no one seems to understand what she’s sacrificing for the good of the colony, even her beloved Amaba (mother). And once she distances herself from her friends and family, Yetu must face the fact that by leaving, they will never be at peace again with no vessel to take back the memories. She feels guilty about this, but she’s also curious about the two legs she meets near the shore.

Solomon explores the meaning of memories and how they affect us. How important are they, even if they bring you grief? Would we be better off without painful memories? Once Yetu gets to the surface, she meets a woman who offers another perspective on memories. She also gets a glimpse into the world of her ancestors and realizes that memories are crucial in tying the past and present together.

Solomon’s beautiful and powerful prose evokes the chill of the deep ocean where the wajinru live. The ocean itself is a living presence in this story, vast and cruel, but also home to Yetu and her family and therefore a soothing and familiar place. The ending was unexpected and magical, heartwarming in the best way possible. I was left with a feeling of wonder and a desire to dip my toes in the ocean and experience the weight of history for myself. This is a short but powerful tale that I won’t soon forget.

Big thanks to the publisher for supplying a review copy.

This is an interesting allegory for the current Black experience in the United States, along with being a pretty decent fantasy read as well. I think it would be a great option for AP literature classes to read in conjunction with some of the more classic Black literature.