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The Perilous Deep: A Supernatural History of the Atlantic
The vast expanse, unknown depths, dangers and mysteries of the sea have led mariners to create fantastical stories of ghosts and monsters for centuries; it is a world strange and ‘other’ to the experience of land dwellers. This body of lore has served to bond nautical communities together around the world and throughout history, with international stories fusing with local tales. The Perilous Deep explores why these stories were told, how they were repeated and mutated and what fears, anxieties and desires they helped to express. This is a fascinating exploration of the supernatural history of the Atlantic Ocean and some of its neighbouring seas, showing how seafaring peoples have developed knowledge and a sense of control over nature through myths and legends.
336 pages, Hardcover
Published September 23, 2025
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January 16, 2026
A sober and useful overview. It might also be called a general survey. Quite readable, but not very in-depth (no pun intended). It is not based on the author's own field research, but on other written sources; a set of old books, journals, articles (both academic and non-academic, some very obscure), newspaper reports etc. The horizon is all-encompassing: Mermaids & mermen, the Kraken, ghost ships, good or bad omens, sea witchery, the Flying Dutchman (or men), various giant sea serpents, prognosticated shipwrecks, revenants, the horror of the Sargasso Sea, Atlantis, mysterious islands that suddenly appear or disappear (see under the chapter heading "Weird and Enchanted Geographies"), how to avoid Davy Jones' Locker by magical means and charms...it is all here, placed in a historical context and at least tentatively explained by common sense. Bell has a bent for trying to explain why most superstitions have arisen and what they say about our relationship with the sea. Most often he lands on "They speak to our fears" or similar conclusions. I'm not sure his generalisations always hold water (pun intended). Anyway, some disenchantment along the way must be taken for granted when reading this book. I will quote a fairly typical passage to make my point(s) seaworthy:
"An odd case published in the press in 1891 also provided an update to the 'swallowed by a giant fish' trope. In February, James Bartley, a sailor on a whaling ship off the Falkland Islands, was said to have been swallowed by a whale that he and his crewmates were hunting. Believing Bartley had been lost when the whale struck his boat, his crewmates were suprised to find him alive in the stomach of the dead whale two days later. The whale's gastric acids had bleached Bartley's skin and left his flesh oddly wrinkled. Accounts suggest that the experience left him a raving lunatic for two weeks, but he eventually recovered from the horror of being swallowed alive. The truth of this account has been questioned, with critics pointing out that only the sperm whale has a wide enough throat to swallow a man whole. Regardless of its accuracy, the sensational account still spoke to the primeval fear of being swallowed alive that had long been part of the tradition of sea monsters' tales down through the ages."
Bell's only footnote to this passage points to one single source: Aberdeen Journal, 29 July 1891. But by googling I find that the story has its own Wikipedia entry under "James Bartley". https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_B.... This made me doubt Bell's research! The story was of course a hoax. It was investigated and debunked by Edward Davis in 1991.
Here is another passage in the spirit of disenchantment:
"On the French coast, Breton lore told of a beautiful underwater garden owned by a water demon, a paradise where the souls of the pious who had drowned dwelt. The garden was bedecked in diamonds and gems that shone in the darkness of the deep, their reflection through the water making the sea appear to be on fire. The garden's strange light was said to explain what is now understood as phosphorescent illumination in the water, caused by certain types of algae or decomposing vegetal or animal forms in the water."
Bell writes too streamlined, impersonal and restrained to grab me. I don't think I belong to the ideal readership for this book. I'm not a weather-beaten "old salt" or ancient mariner, but I have read many books about sea mysteries (in connection with cryptozoology, the history of cartography and exploration, myths & legends of the sea, natural history lore etc). Because of all this previous reading I found that I had encountered most of the superstitions and mythical creatures before, and I rarely found anything new to be fascinated by. So I thought this book would probably work much better as an introduction for beginners than infotainment for an old Fortean "read-it-all-before"-guy like me. Bell mentions his main sources in the footnotes, so seeking further information via the bibliography should be plain sailing for anyone. Personally, I would rather recommend a book that Bell often cites as his source: Horace Beck's "Folklore and the Sea" (1973), which is available in several affordable editions on the web.
Kudos to Bell, though, for mentioning H.P. Lovecraft and W.H. Hodgson, the famous writers of weird fiction. He gives them both their fair share of space, 3 pages to each. Lovecraft's obsession with sinister sea creatures is well-known in the form of Dagon, Great Cthulhu (he who waits dreaming in his house in R'lyeh, the one who sleeps until the stars are right), the Deep Ones etc. Hodgson wrote many eerie sea stories, and a claustrophobic novel about the Sargasso Sea called "The Boats of the 'Glen Carrig'" (1907). I'm sure many good ideas for nautical horror stories could be gleaned from such "quaint and curious" old folklore that Bell presents in this book.
Another source Bell mentions is "The Fabled Coast - Legends and Traditions from around the Shores of Britain and Ireland" by Kingshill and Westwood (2012). I have it in my collection and it is high on my to-read list. I have now moved it even higher in the stack. Reading Bell also made me order this slim book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3...
Pedantic addenda about errata:
A curious mistake: On page 159 Bell refers to a close encounter with the Kraken by the bishop of Midaros. Midaros is a misspelling of Nidaros, a Norwegian city now called Trondheim (famous for it's old Catholic cathedral and Motorpsycho). Bell could have discovered this simple spelling mistake if he had gone deeper into it (pun intended!), and not just simply repeated the story almost verbatim from Henry Lee's "Sea Monsters Unmasked" (1883). [It is of course possible that Henry Lee also repeated someone else's mistake.] One wrong letter is not a big thing, but Midaros sounds very much like a Greek holiday resort - a very different thing than Nidaros.
Another curious mistake, and one of the more interesting typos I have seen, is on page 165:
"[N]ineteenth-century naturalists increasingly dismissed this legendary beast as a case of mistaken identity. At first this was based on typographical features such as sandbanks or rock formations..." Topographical features, surely!
So this book is not without its blemishes. There are other mistakes, too. The Danish "strandvarsler" is not written "Strand Varsler", as Bell does, as if it was a proper name with capital letters, like Davy Jones. He was probably again citing an old and inaccurate source verbatim, without further checking. On the other hand, the book has a very good selection of illustrations, which for me alleviates these blemishes a little. For instance, I had never seen a reproduction in colour of George Cruikshank's etching of "The Feejee Mermaid" from 1822, but this book has it in all its yellowed glory!
"An odd case published in the press in 1891 also provided an update to the 'swallowed by a giant fish' trope. In February, James Bartley, a sailor on a whaling ship off the Falkland Islands, was said to have been swallowed by a whale that he and his crewmates were hunting. Believing Bartley had been lost when the whale struck his boat, his crewmates were suprised to find him alive in the stomach of the dead whale two days later. The whale's gastric acids had bleached Bartley's skin and left his flesh oddly wrinkled. Accounts suggest that the experience left him a raving lunatic for two weeks, but he eventually recovered from the horror of being swallowed alive. The truth of this account has been questioned, with critics pointing out that only the sperm whale has a wide enough throat to swallow a man whole. Regardless of its accuracy, the sensational account still spoke to the primeval fear of being swallowed alive that had long been part of the tradition of sea monsters' tales down through the ages."
Bell's only footnote to this passage points to one single source: Aberdeen Journal, 29 July 1891. But by googling I find that the story has its own Wikipedia entry under "James Bartley". https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_B.... This made me doubt Bell's research! The story was of course a hoax. It was investigated and debunked by Edward Davis in 1991.
Here is another passage in the spirit of disenchantment:
"On the French coast, Breton lore told of a beautiful underwater garden owned by a water demon, a paradise where the souls of the pious who had drowned dwelt. The garden was bedecked in diamonds and gems that shone in the darkness of the deep, their reflection through the water making the sea appear to be on fire. The garden's strange light was said to explain what is now understood as phosphorescent illumination in the water, caused by certain types of algae or decomposing vegetal or animal forms in the water."
Bell writes too streamlined, impersonal and restrained to grab me. I don't think I belong to the ideal readership for this book. I'm not a weather-beaten "old salt" or ancient mariner, but I have read many books about sea mysteries (in connection with cryptozoology, the history of cartography and exploration, myths & legends of the sea, natural history lore etc). Because of all this previous reading I found that I had encountered most of the superstitions and mythical creatures before, and I rarely found anything new to be fascinated by. So I thought this book would probably work much better as an introduction for beginners than infotainment for an old Fortean "read-it-all-before"-guy like me. Bell mentions his main sources in the footnotes, so seeking further information via the bibliography should be plain sailing for anyone. Personally, I would rather recommend a book that Bell often cites as his source: Horace Beck's "Folklore and the Sea" (1973), which is available in several affordable editions on the web.
Kudos to Bell, though, for mentioning H.P. Lovecraft and W.H. Hodgson, the famous writers of weird fiction. He gives them both their fair share of space, 3 pages to each. Lovecraft's obsession with sinister sea creatures is well-known in the form of Dagon, Great Cthulhu (he who waits dreaming in his house in R'lyeh, the one who sleeps until the stars are right), the Deep Ones etc. Hodgson wrote many eerie sea stories, and a claustrophobic novel about the Sargasso Sea called "The Boats of the 'Glen Carrig'" (1907). I'm sure many good ideas for nautical horror stories could be gleaned from such "quaint and curious" old folklore that Bell presents in this book.
Another source Bell mentions is "The Fabled Coast - Legends and Traditions from around the Shores of Britain and Ireland" by Kingshill and Westwood (2012). I have it in my collection and it is high on my to-read list. I have now moved it even higher in the stack. Reading Bell also made me order this slim book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3...
Pedantic addenda about errata:
A curious mistake: On page 159 Bell refers to a close encounter with the Kraken by the bishop of Midaros. Midaros is a misspelling of Nidaros, a Norwegian city now called Trondheim (famous for it's old Catholic cathedral and Motorpsycho). Bell could have discovered this simple spelling mistake if he had gone deeper into it (pun intended!), and not just simply repeated the story almost verbatim from Henry Lee's "Sea Monsters Unmasked" (1883). [It is of course possible that Henry Lee also repeated someone else's mistake.] One wrong letter is not a big thing, but Midaros sounds very much like a Greek holiday resort - a very different thing than Nidaros.
Another curious mistake, and one of the more interesting typos I have seen, is on page 165:
"[N]ineteenth-century naturalists increasingly dismissed this legendary beast as a case of mistaken identity. At first this was based on typographical features such as sandbanks or rock formations..." Topographical features, surely!
So this book is not without its blemishes. There are other mistakes, too. The Danish "strandvarsler" is not written "Strand Varsler", as Bell does, as if it was a proper name with capital letters, like Davy Jones. He was probably again citing an old and inaccurate source verbatim, without further checking. On the other hand, the book has a very good selection of illustrations, which for me alleviates these blemishes a little. For instance, I had never seen a reproduction in colour of George Cruikshank's etching of "The Feejee Mermaid" from 1822, but this book has it in all its yellowed glory!
July 13, 2025
Book Review: The Perilous Deep: A Supernatural History of the Atlantic by Karl Bell
Rating: 4.7/5
Karl Bell’s The Perilous Deep is a mesmerizing voyage into the haunted imagination of the Atlantic—a book that had me utterly spellbound from the first page to the last. As someone fascinated by maritime folklore, I was enthralled by Bell’s ability to weave rigorous scholarship with the eerie magic of sea legends, creating a work that feels both academically substantial and deliciously unsettling. The way he traces how mermaids, ghost ships, and sea monsters reflect humanity’s primal fears and fascinations with the ocean is nothing short of revelatory.
What makes The Perilous Deep so compelling is Bell’s nuanced approach to folklore as cultural survival. He doesn’t just catalog supernatural tales; he reveals how these stories functioned as psychological anchors for sailors facing the Atlantic’s vast, unknowable dangers. The chapter on phantom ships—those spectral vessels doomed to sail eternally—left me with chills, not just for its gothic allure but for its profound insight into how maritime communities processed loss and disaster. Bell’s prose is accessible yet rich, though I occasionally wished for more first-hand sailor accounts to deepen the emotional resonance. That said, his analysis of how these myths evolved across cultures (from European kraken legends to Caribbean mermaid lore) is masterful, showing folklore as a living, borderless conversation.
By the book’s end, I felt like I’d surfaced from the depths myself—awed by the ocean’s mysteries, and newly aware of how stories help us navigate the perilous unknown.
Summary Takeaways:
- A treasure chest of maritime lore—The Perilous Deep is the perfect storm of scholarship and storytelling.
- For fans of The Ghost Map and The Mermaid’s Tale—Bell’s history reads like the best campfire ghost stories, but with footnotes.
- You’ll never look at the ocean the same way. A haunting, brilliant exploration of why we fear—and love—the deep.
- Mermaids, monsters, and phantom ships: The Perilous Deep proves folklore is the real language of the sea.
- The Atlantic has never been so alive—or so terrifying. Bell’s book is a masterpiece of maritime mythmaking.
Thank you to the University of Chicago Press and Edelweiss for the advance copy. The Perilous Deep is essential reading for anyone who’s ever felt the ocean’s uncanny pull—a book as profound as it is spine-tingling.
Rating: 4.7/5
Karl Bell’s The Perilous Deep is a mesmerizing voyage into the haunted imagination of the Atlantic—a book that had me utterly spellbound from the first page to the last. As someone fascinated by maritime folklore, I was enthralled by Bell’s ability to weave rigorous scholarship with the eerie magic of sea legends, creating a work that feels both academically substantial and deliciously unsettling. The way he traces how mermaids, ghost ships, and sea monsters reflect humanity’s primal fears and fascinations with the ocean is nothing short of revelatory.
What makes The Perilous Deep so compelling is Bell’s nuanced approach to folklore as cultural survival. He doesn’t just catalog supernatural tales; he reveals how these stories functioned as psychological anchors for sailors facing the Atlantic’s vast, unknowable dangers. The chapter on phantom ships—those spectral vessels doomed to sail eternally—left me with chills, not just for its gothic allure but for its profound insight into how maritime communities processed loss and disaster. Bell’s prose is accessible yet rich, though I occasionally wished for more first-hand sailor accounts to deepen the emotional resonance. That said, his analysis of how these myths evolved across cultures (from European kraken legends to Caribbean mermaid lore) is masterful, showing folklore as a living, borderless conversation.
By the book’s end, I felt like I’d surfaced from the depths myself—awed by the ocean’s mysteries, and newly aware of how stories help us navigate the perilous unknown.
Summary Takeaways:
- A treasure chest of maritime lore—The Perilous Deep is the perfect storm of scholarship and storytelling.
- For fans of The Ghost Map and The Mermaid’s Tale—Bell’s history reads like the best campfire ghost stories, but with footnotes.
- You’ll never look at the ocean the same way. A haunting, brilliant exploration of why we fear—and love—the deep.
- Mermaids, monsters, and phantom ships: The Perilous Deep proves folklore is the real language of the sea.
- The Atlantic has never been so alive—or so terrifying. Bell’s book is a masterpiece of maritime mythmaking.
Thank you to the University of Chicago Press and Edelweiss for the advance copy. The Perilous Deep is essential reading for anyone who’s ever felt the ocean’s uncanny pull—a book as profound as it is spine-tingling.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews