Ahh, the aquarium.
It’s my favorite section of ‘The Carnival of Animals’ by Camille Saint-Saens ~ it manages to evoke the undulating flow of water and magic beneath the surface, along with evoking so much more ~ mystery, tension, wonder, beauty, tranquility, and the unknown. I’ve always felt a powerful peace when in the presence of an aquarium. Life is quieter under the water. It’s slower and more languid. There is violence there too, I suppose, but danger is everywhere when you think about it. It hints, rather terrifyingly, at the immensity of the world’s bodies of water. Lake or sea, river or ocean ~ each can overwhelm and astound with their vastness, their variety, their untamed wilderness.
Maybe we feel better when we take a few drops and encase it in glass where it can be controlled, where we might have a modicum of power. Maybe an aquarium is our way of mastering a natural element that would otherwise drown us. Or maybe we just like to capture and covet pretty things. The flower power of the sea anemone. The ribbon-like sinewy grace of a moray eel. This boxy little creature with the doe-like eyes and mottled skin. We want our beauty close and contained.
