Bryony Dunne: To Welcome a Toadfish

My research stems from a 2019 trip that I took to the South of Crete, where I joined a friend, Dr. Panos Kompatsiaris. Panos had been researching the presence of a toxic pufferfish (Lagocephalus sceleratus) within the Mediterranean, and I was inspired to join him after reading his paper “Aliens in the Mediterranean Sea: Monstrous Fish and the (Im)Possibilities of Kinship with Non-human Others”. His academic dive into the limits of kinship towards non-human otherness via the pufferfish figure captured my imagination, even though I did not have the time and resources then to pursue further research on the subject.

In 2022, the Onassis AiR Tailor-made Fellowship provided me with the opportunity to continue from where I had left off. Prior to the Fellowship, I had been making a series of works that explored how the Suez Canal facilitated the expansion of the colonial project, where animals, plants, and people were transported across continents. The Canal opened in 1869 under French control in Egypt and remains the fastest and most direct maritime trade link between Asia and Europe. The toxic pufferfish now found in waters around Crete is one of the many species that migrated to the Mediterranean through this manmade incursion – from the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea. These species are known as Lessepsian Migrants, named after Ferdinand De Lesseps, the French engineer in charge of the canal’s construction. Many of these species have been welcomed to their new habitat, mainly because the industry can capitalize on them as a food resource, but others are considered a threat, like the toxic pufferfish. Some marine biologists describe them as the largest irreversible ecological disaster of our time.

The presence of the pufferfish in the Mediterranean raises interesting questions, specifically at a time when multiple species around the world find themselves on the move due climatic changes and environmental stress. As my research into texts about the toxic pufferfish progressed, I saw that it was referred to as a “demon”, “monster” or “alien”. I wanted to think about what makes a monster a monster, since the pufferfish was not a monster in its “native” environment and only became one in its new habitat, using a pathway that humans had made. The existence of the pufferfish perhaps also allows us to confront the complexities of making kin with non-human others, when they are considered a threat to our own human species’ survival.

I often use film as a form of inquiry to raise questions around situations and stories I find challenging but wish to understand better. It felt like film was the most suitable medium to work with on this project. To help make sense of the questions that surrounded the pufferfish’s existence, I began looking at the most iconic monster in cinema history – Godzilla – who features in Japanese Kaiju films, and emerges from the sea like the pufferfish. I was interested in Godzilla’s mythical qualities, in its murky existence, and in how its character shifted – sometimes it was aligned with humanity and other times it was not. I was also inspired by the use of staging, craft, deception, and perception in these films. Different interpretations and analogies surfaced as to what Godzilla represented, and sensitivity and awareness was necessary to understand the political and historical climate that Godzilla emerged from, in relation to nuclear threat in Japan after World War II. I found it interesting that, in early Japanese versions, Godzilla was never purely “other”, and audiences could recognize the human in the monster, as actors wore a monster suit, mimicking both animal and human behavior. It was only in the later Americanized versions that the monster became “othered”. Perhaps these early films were an attempt to comment on how humans play an active role in creating Godzilla – the monster becomes a part of us and a way for society to externalize its existential threats and fears.

A similar pufferfish with the same toxin – Tetrodoxin TTX – as the one found in Crete, is eaten as a delicacy in Japan, where chefs undergo rigorous training to remove the toxic elements of the fish before consumption. In small doses, it is known to have hallucinogenic properties, where consumers reportedly feel a tingling sensation in their mouths. In large doses, it is extremely poisonous – where one fish is known to contain enough poison to kill up to forty people. Back in Crete, there have been alleged accounts of fishermen eating the pufferfish after de-toxifying it. The act of consuming the “monster”, or embodying the potential threat, bears interesting nuances. It also made me think about dosage and “pharmakon” (φάρμακον), a word that can mean either remedy or poison in ancient Greece. I came across contemporary medical research on the potential use of Tetrodoxin as a neuropathic pain reliever in cancer-related pain.

I went back to Crete and met with different marine scientists at the Hellenic Center for Marine Research (HCMR) in Heraklion, who had been researching the presence of the fish in the Mediterranean for many years. I listened to their stories and research and the bilateral attempts that are underway to eradicate or de-populate the species, such as bio-chemical experiments to de-toxify the fish and use the de-toxified body parts to feed fish in fish farms. From there, I spent time in the village of Agia Galini in the South of Crete, talking to fishermen about the negative impact of the pufferfish on the local and already threatened small-scale fishing industry and the different measures they take to alleviate this impact. I also learned that the knowledge of how to de-toxify the fish for consumption was allegedly passed down by Egyptian fishermen who had been working in Crete for years. Many layers of cultural and socio/geo/political entanglements circulate around the pufferfish.

I returned to Athens and began to write a script based on the stories and research. Working with actor Yannis Anastasakis on the voiceover, I presented the short film “To Welcome a Toadfish” (working title) during the Open Day. The film is 10 minutes long and includes research material from Crete, juxtaposed with found footage from Godzilla films. I hope to continue this research and produce a longer film in the not-so-distant future.