The Call of the Ocean: Blue Humanities and Ecological Ethics in Chingiz Aitmatov’s The Mark of Cassandra

Abstract

This article examines The Mark of Cassandra by Chingiz Aitmatov through the emerging framework of Blue Humanities. While most prior studies have approached Aitmatov’s ecological concerns from a land-based ecocritical perspective, this article shifts the focus to his engagement with oceanic themes and marine environments. By combining literary interpretation with ecological philosophy, the study suggests that The Mark of Cassandra goes beyond the limits of traditional environmental fiction. It presents the ocean not only as a setting but as a source of knowledge and ethical reflection. In this way, Aitmatov’s work seems to anticipate current global discussions on climate change, biodiversity loss, and environmental justice. The novel encourages readers to reconsider the human-centered worldview and adopt a more ecocentric approach. Through its marine symbolism and critical stance on human exploitation of nature, the text offers valuable insights into ecological ethics that cross both national and species boundaries. Overall, this article argues that The Mark of Cassandra is an important literary contribution that challenges the usual borders of ecocriticism and calls for a more integrated and holistic understanding of environmental issues.

1. Introduction: Rethinking Ecology Through the Ocean

[…] we look

But at the surfaces of things; we hear

Of towns in flames, fields ravaged, young and old

Driven out in troops to want and nakedness;

Then grasp our swords and rush upon a cure

That flatters us, because it asks not thought:

The deeper malady is better hid;

The world is poisoned at the heart.

(William Wordsworth, “The Borderers”)

In the vast and endless universe, Earth still remains the only planet, among all that have been discovered, where life is definitively known to exist. One of the main reasons behind this is its high amount of water, which covers most of its surface. Due to its dominant water coverage the Earth is often referred to as the Blue Planet in scientific discourse. The strong connection between water and life is clear enough that it leads the way in the search for life on other planets: “find the water” (Earle 2009, p. 9). By accepting this basic reality, in recent years, researchers have started to think more seriously about the deep relationship between water and human life. This has led to the development of a new intellectual area called Blue Humanities. It invites scholars to examine human engagement with the aquatic worlds of our planet in many ways, including social, cultural, literary, historical, and more. As has been stated, this growing field “studies planetary waters from sociocultural, literary, historical, aesthetic, ethical, and multiple other perspectives, and lays bare the broader social implications of hydrologic sciences” (Oppermann 2023, p. 1). In addition to these, Blue Humanities also connects closely with environmental thinking and ecocriticism. It proposes a different way of seeing water, not just as a resource, but as something we can think with. This philosophy of thinking with water encourages a shift away from anthropocentric perspectives and invites scholars to consider the ocean and sea as active participants in forming what we may call ecosophy.

The Anthropocene epoch, often associated with the Industrial Revolution and the invention of the steam engine (Crutzen and Stoermer 2000, pp. 17–18), is a contested concept in contemporary scholarship. As has been widely discussed, three main temporal frameworks have been proposed: an “early Anthropocene” beginning several thousand years ago, the onset of the Industrial Revolution around 1800 CE, and the “Great Acceleration” of the mid-twentieth century (Zalasiewicz et al. 2015). Despite these ongoing debates regarding its temporal boundaries, the Anthropocene is broadly defined as the time “in which humans have become the dominant force shaping Earth’s bio-geophysical composition and processes” (Chua and Fair 2019). In this era, there are many visible ecological disruptions across planetary systems, including climate instability and biodiversity loss. These changes clearly show how deep and often irreversible the human impact is on the planet. As ecosystems are naturally connected to each other, any damage in one part causes a chain reaction in others, which increases environmental instability even more.

In this context, a green turn became a necessary step to deal with the growing environmental destruction of Earth. However, the green turn is not only about behavioral adjustments; it also requires a shift in culture and modes of thought toward ecological care and responsibility. Rather than assuming a fixed ecological balance, contemporary environmental thought increasingly emphasizes dynamic and evolving relations between human and non-human systems (Holling 1973; Wu and Loucks 1995). The reflections of this needed green turn in literature and culture are mostly seen through ecocriticism. This field is simply defined as “the study of the relationship between literature and the physical environment” (Glotfelty 1996, p. xix). In this sense, ecocriticism helps to connect scientific facts with philosophical change, and also underlines how literature can increase environmental awareness. This approach brings together moral and political concern for the environment with cultural and philosophical analysis.

In ecocritical studies, the focus of transformation has traditionally been placed on the land. Humanity’s historical dependence on land for survival explains why ecocriticism also developed mainly around terrestrial issues. In other words, ecocriticism was born and shaped within the limits of the land. Supporting this, in the conventional understanding of ecocriticism, “[e]cocritics generally tie their cultural analyses explicitly to a ‘green’ moral and political agenda” (Garrard 2004, p. 3). However, this land-based perspective misses an important ecological fact, as most of the planet is actually covered by water. In response to this lack, some scholars have started to call for widening ecocritical approaches to include the ocean as well. The blue parts of the Earth, covering almost 70% of the surface, are described as a “missing context” in our shared perception (Mentz 2009b, p. 998). With this awareness, a new movement emerged in the early 2000s, known as a blue reform in academic thought, which is seen as a natural complement to the green turn. Its main aim was “to irritate ecocriticism’s engagement with representations of ocean from predominantly land-based methodologies and epistemologies” (Dobrin 2021, p. 4). Following a more holistic approach, Steve Mentz suggests that “[s]upplementing our ‘green’ cultural turn with a ‘blue cultural studies’ that looks at our world through the deathly, inhuman, magical lens of the sea can begin rebuilding narrative and interpretive practices to respond to our uncertain future” (Mentz 2009a, p. xii). His proposal for a blue cultural study underlines how ecocriticism can be expanded and enriched through a shift from land to sea. In this sense, including the marine view opens up a deeper way to understand both the fragility of the environment and the complex position of humans within it.

Including Blue Humanities in ecocriticism enriches the field and opens a more inclusive and useful way of thinking, where ocean and land are not separated but seen as connected and both important. When these two ways are considered together, ecocriticism has a better chance of dealing with different topics such as sustainability, responsibility, and how to stay strong during ecological problems. If we start from the basic ecological idea that “everything is related to everything else” (Bernard and Young 1997, p. 187), then this thinking also should include the deep connections between humans and the ocean. Here, it is not only that all parts of nature are linked, but also that water is a central part of these links. As Sylvia Earle says clearly, “everyone, everywhere is inextricably connected to and utterly dependent upon the existence of the sea” (Earle 2009, p. 12). This shows how the sea is not only important for life itself, but also for climate, weather, and the general balance of nature. When we understand this strong connection and the need to go forward together with the sea, then it becomes more visible how ocean and marine life are critical for keeping ecological systems alive. In this sense, human life is one part of a big web that is shaped by oceanic dynamics, and it needs to carefully protect and seriously respect the natural systems that allow life to continue.

This new way of understanding ecocriticism, where seas are moved from the edge to the center of academic thinking, has the potential to seriously change the traditional land-centered approaches. As Mentz states, “[l]ooking closely at the sea, rather than just the land, challenges established habits of thought” (Mentz 2009b, p. 997). This turning towards an ocean-centered perspective not only brings new shape to ecocritical methods, but also fits with the main themes of some literary works that deal with marine environments. One such work is The Mark of Cassandra by Chingiz Aitmatov (Aitmatov 2017), which strongly shows the need to reconsider the relationship between humans and the sea. In this sense, Aitmatov’s novel shares the concerns of the Blue Humanities, as it also reacts to the growing global crisis and calls for a better awareness of how deeply we are connected with nature. Most of the studies about Aitmatov usually focus on his environmental themes from a land-based ecocritical approach. But they tend to overlook the important role of sea and water imagery in The Mark of Cassandra. This study aims to look more closely at Aitmatov’s link to oceanic stories, which is still an underexplored subject in Central Asian literature studies. By doing so, this study also aims to place the novel within the context of the Blue Humanities and answer the increasing need for a change in how we understand and respond to ecological problems in our current age. Building on this gap, this article argues that The Mark of Cassandra can be read as an early example of Blue Humanities by positioning the ocean as an epistemological and ethical agent that destabilizes anthropocentric modernity. In this respect, this article contributes to Blue Humanities scholarship not only by offering a new reading of Aitmatov’s novel, but also by expanding the field beyond its predominantly Anglophone and Western European focus, drawing attention to the underexplored role of Central Asian literature in shaping ocean-centered ecological thought.

2. Oceanic Ethics and Ecological Crisis in The Mark of Cassandra

Considering its representation of the world it constructs, The Mark of Cassandra can be read as a dystopian novel, primarily due to its emphasis on the apocalyptic vision giving “a rousing call to wage war with the many faces of Evil, or be doomed forever” (Doraiswamy 2005, p. 25). This dystopian framework is closely linked to Aitmatov’s way of dealing with the theme of natural balance, which is shaped by his own cultural and intellectual background. The socio-political transformations in the 20th century, particularly the fall of Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War, significantly influenced his perspective in creating this novel as a representation of despondence (Doraiswamy 2005, p. 25). At the same time, his ability to bring together the local narratives of Kyrgyz identity and the universal ecological concerns not only gives shape to his literary voice but also forms his awareness about the environment. This double viewpoint helps him go beyond land-centric ecological matters and include sea and water images, which are mostly not studied in the research about his works. With this unique approach, his writing reflects the silent thinking of the universe, the repeating rhythms of nature, and the disorder of existence, and in doing so, it goes beyond personal stories to address broader and more universal concerns (İbraimov 2018, p. 22). Moreover, the geographical specificity of Kyrgyz landscapes in his texts is interwoven with philosophical insights that resonate on a global scale. From this angle, as Arslan mentions, if we read Aitmatov’s texts only as simple tools of message-giving, we miss his intellectual and philosophical richness from the beginning (Arslan 2009, p. 223). Therefore, the interplay between culture, philosophy, and ecology in his literature should be understood not simply as a thematic concern, but as a critical stance that questions the human role in ecological destruction.

Chingiz Aitmatov’s ecological perspective is strongly based on his deep respect for nature and his constant criticism of how human beings damage the environment. His view on nature does not remain limited to an affective or esthetic engagement, but instead reflects a more explicit and sustained concern with ecological responsibility and ethical reflection (Gökalp Alpaslan 2014, p. 13). Aitmatov’s literature recurrently addresses discussions around human problems and the basic rights of both people and animals. At the same time, it is possible to follow his strong interest in ecological relations and environmental responsibility, his reaction against the human-centered way of thinking, and his belief in the unity between humans and nature. His writings clearly reflect an ecocentric understanding where the close relationship between human life and nature is underlined. This approach takes his literary work beyond only national or cultural limits. In this context, Aitmatov’s engagement with both terrestrial and oceanic ecological concerns demonstrates a distinctive contribution to environmental thought, reflecting his deep sensitivity to the interdependence between human and non-human life. His way of showing the sensitive balance of ecological systems, together with his sharp criticism of human destruction, puts him in an important position between literature, philosophy, and ecological awareness. Aitmatov explains his deep sensitivity to these matters in the following words (my translation):

The environment has become an increasingly important concern in human consciousness. Responding to ecological problems, whose dangers become visible when they are ignored, is both necessary and unavoidable. The animal world, which has always been closely connected to human life, now appears to be under growing destructive pressure. In the past, what is described as “the balance of nature” was sustained through rural traditions shaped by humanity’s dependence on nature. Today, however, people have gained the power to alter nature according to their own needs, and this power calls for a deeper awareness of responsibility toward the natural world.

Humans and ecology have coexisted for millennia, yet ecology has never been so crucial to human survival. When ecological balance is threatened, political concerns lose importance and environmental responsibility must come first. Beyond political or national differences, humanity must protect the environment and use its resources wisely, or risk losing the very conditions that sustain life.

(Aitmatov 1990, p. 52)

By prioritizing the protection of environment over political or national interests, Aitmatov gives strong attention to the idea that ecological matters should be considered as the first concern. He suggests that taking care of nature is not a secondary issue, but a responsibility that cannot be postponed anymore. What he calls for is not an individual effort, but a kind of shared awareness, a collective ecological consciousness that crosses beyond personal or state-level interests. His insistence on awareness and responsibility has not only ethical importance, but also practical value for the continuity of human life and natural systems. From this perspective, Aitmatov can be accepted as a visionary intellectual who early recognized the deep interrelation between ecological conditions and human survival. In this respect, he does not treat humans and nature as two separate entities; instead, he considers them as parts of the same interconnected system.

Aitmatov, who was deeply disturbed by the destruction of nature caused by human actions, reflects his reaction clearly in his different literary works. He draws attention to the endless ambition of humankind to control and dominate the natural world, which he symbolically describes as “squeezing the earth like a lemon for personal gain” in his another novel (Aitmatov 2011, p. 15). By showing this exploitative mentality, Aitmatov strongly positions himself against anthropocentric ways of thinking. Instead, he supports a more balanced and respectful relationship between humans and the environment. In his novels, Aitmatov presents the unavoidable results of environmental destruction caused by many reasons such as political struggles, uncontrolled capitalism, and the anthropocentric belief in a so-called hierarchy in nature. For instance, the increasing number of Cassandra embryos across different social contexts reinforces this global dimension. Their emergence is not confined to a particular geography but signals a shared global anxiety, implying that ecological crisis transcends local boundaries. As the writer reflects, environmental degradation is a global problem in which political violence, economic exploitation, and ecological collapse are deeply interconnected. According to him, the real responsibility belongs to humanity itself as a result of its endless desire to use nature without limit, to consume resources blindly, and to break the natural balance and unity for material growth.

The Mark of Cassandra (1995), which is Aitmatov’s last novel, “does not merely posit a ‘global’ vision; it does much more, it posits a galactic view on the state of affairs on earth” (Doraiswamy 2005, p. 25). This perspective claims that everything in nature is deeply interconnected, and the anthropocentric mindset is the biggest danger to this natural unity. In this way, Aitmatov challenges the many layers of the system that destroys the world. The Mark of Cassandra uses the ancient figure Cassandra to explore both existential and ecological breakdowns. One of the main characters is Filofei, a Russian scientist living in a Soviet space station. He writes a letter to the Pope, explaining a shocking scientific discovery: human embryos can feel the future during the early weeks of pregnancy and react to what they sense. The embryo gives a warning by making a small mark appear on the mother’s forehead, which is named “The Mark of Cassandra”, revealing how the future of life becomes uncertain under Anthropocene conditions. These embryos represent the hidden awareness that humanity has about its own self-destructive path. In the end, Filofei’s suicide in space is not only a tragic end but also the systematic rejection of ecological truth in modern civilization. His exile beyond Earth symbolically reflects humanity’s alienation from Earth. In this respect, the novel is represented as a philosophical inquiry questioning ecological collapse and the limits of anthropocentric denial. By combining scientific imagination with deep philosophical thought, The Mark of Cassandra becomes a strong reflection on human nature and the serious consequences of our actions.

The crisis described in The Mark of Cassandra, as directly highlighted by Aitmatov, is the outcome of humanity’s deep-rooted anthropocentric mindset. The number of Cassandra embryos increases because of “the ever-increasing sense of immorality and sinisterness of the men’s daily life in the world” (Cassandra, p. 27)1. In the novel, the chain of dangers that mothers with Cassandra embryos cannot stop thinking about is described in a very clear and emotional way as follows:

Hunger, slums, diseases including AIDS, wars, economic crises, social unrest, murders, prostitution, drug addiction and drug cartels, ethnic conflicts, racism, ecological disasters, nuclear experiments, black holes, and so on. All of these are artificial, human-made creations. From generation to generation, the scale of human catastrophes continues to grow, and we all contribute to this escalation.

(Cassandra, pp. 40, 41)

This painful list in the novel directly exposes how human-caused suffering builds up over time, and it strongly supports Aitmatov’s criticism of how humans still fail to live in peace with the world they belong to. The disasters and the loss of balance in nature are results of this destruction led by human hands, and the endless use of natural systems only for personal or collective interests. In this way, it constructs a rhetoric of cumulative acceleration in which catastrophe becomes normalized in modern life. Because of this deep destruction, the Cassandra embryos do not want to be born. Their refusal of birth can be interpreted as an ontological protest which signals environmental collapse and a great chaos in humanity’s ethical imagination. As Timothy Morton’s concept of the mesh suggests, ecological thought recognizes existence as an entanglement of interconnected beings in which nothing exists in isolation; therefore, the disruption of ecological relations becomes simultaneously a disruption of being itself (Morton 2010, p. 15). In this sense, Aitmatov reframes ecological destruction as a condition that even potential future lives remark of as uninhabitable.

In this framework, The Mark of Cassandra offers a valuable opportunity for a blue reading, especially because the novel challenges the human-centered view and gives importance to the interdependence between humanity and nature, especially with the sea. Aitmatov creates this bond with the color blue, just as Blue Humanities encourages, by focusing on an ocean-based rather than land-based way of thinking (Mentz 2015, p. xxi). In the first pages of the novel, the writer already draws attention to the difficulties humanity is going to face, by stating that “contemporary humanity will encounter numerous new problems” (Cassandra, p. 13). He underlines that understanding these problems should not only lead us to the fear of extinction. More importantly, this awareness should help humanity to search for new ways to survive and develop. For Aitmatov, these solutions depend on a sense of unity and ecological interconnectedness. These are the foundations for a new life and a new way of thinking. His ideas can be understood as a reflection of ecological unity. When Aitmatov points out the need for deep and structural change, his thoughts reflect the call for “an ocean-infused way to reframe our shared cultural history” as Blue Humanities also suggests (Mentz 2020, p. xviii). In this context, the ocean emerges as the central epistemological and narrative site through which ecological meaning is produced in the novel.

The Blue Humanities perspective provides an essential theoretical framework for interpreting The Mark of Cassandra, as it shifts the focus from traditionally land-based ecological discourse to a more holistic, ocean-centered epistemology. From the novel’s early pages, the ocean emerges as a key medium through which meaning is constructed:

The ocean, the very cradle of the long-anticipated—indeed, inevitable—deluge, was on that day surging with its entire restless mass, shaking the earth as it undulated resolutely between continents, stirring itself into a frenzy, boiling with sudden cascades of waves, and playing with immense currents. Across its vast expanse, it gleamed and shimmered with an almost ominous brilliance.

(Cassandra, p. 10)

By underlining the enormous power of the ocean and its ability to shake the Earth itself, this part of the novel not only shows the ocean’s physical dominance but also gives a strong feeling of the possible catastrophe that it seems to signal. The ocean here exceeds its descriptive function and emerges as a planetary force, destabilizing terrestrial security and embodying the volatility of ecological imbalance. So, the ocean is not just a background or a setting, but a living and acting force that influences how planetary stories are shaped (Mentz 2021; Iovino and Oppermann 2014). This perspective is also supported by recent studies on Aitmatov’s environmental imagination, which emphasize that water functions not merely as a setting but as an active and dynamic participant in the narrative (Kalieva et al. 2024). Aitmatov’s use of oceanic symbols fits this idea, as he presents the sea not only as a place of crisis but also as a space for new beginnings. Through this, he shows that the ocean has a real transformative role, both in ecological thinking and in narrative meaning. Beyond its connection to whales, the ocean is portrayed thematically as a site of crisis, transformation, and planetary interdependence, where ecological and ethical tensions become visible. Formally, it shapes the narrative by introducing fluidity, instability, and a sense of scale that exceeds human-centered perception, thereby challenging fixed, land-based modes of representation.

Building on this oceanic framework, the shared cultural memory appears clearly through the character of Robert Bork in the novel, who forms a deep connection with the whales. Bork is a futurologist and also someone who believes in Filofei’s theory. He represents the spirit of the Cassandra embryos, those who can see possible future disasters and try to warn the people. But Bork does not see the Cassandra mark as something dangerous. Instead, he thinks it is a call for transformation and change in society, imagining a cleaner and more sustainable future. However, his voice is not heard in a world where people refuse to face reality. The society, already morally broken, sees Bork as a threat and causes his fall. With this tragic story, Aitmatov shows how a person who searches for truth is silenced by a community that chooses to stay blind to its own coming disaster.

Although whales emerge as the most visible agents of ecological consciousness in the novel, they are not isolated entities but part of a broader ecological network shaped by human intervention and planetary processes. From this angle, the novel presents ecology not as a collection of separate elements but as a system of interrelated forces. In many parts of the novel, Bork and the whales are described as deeply connected, sharing a sensitivity towards what is coming. In this sense, Bork functions as an epistemological figure through which scientific, ethical, and ecological modes of knowledge are reflected. While Bork listens to warnings and tries to inform people, the whales also feel the danger and choose mass suicide. This interspecies alignment between Bork and the whales becomes a strong symbol of unity. While whales occupy a central position in the novel, they are embedded within a broader network of ecological relations that include human and planetary dimensions. This reflects an understanding of the environment as a system defined by interdependence rather than isolation. This powerful link is expressed most strongly in a dream-like scene, where Bork imagines that he becomes one with the whales:

Suddenly, he imagined himself swimming among the whales, becoming a whale-man, with streams of sparkling water flowing down his back like spring rain gliding from above. He was swimming in the ocean, and he felt with a hidden intuition that surfaced suddenly from the depths of his mind that he would be with the whales for the rest of his life.

(Cassandra, p. 15)

This part of the novel demonstrates how Bork has a deep bond with nature, especially with the whales, which supports the novel’s main idea about how humans are disconnected from nature and do not listen to the signals that come both from human knowledge and natural instinct. His transformation is not in physical terms, but more spiritual and destabilizes anthropocentric hierarchies by positioning human consciousness within oceanic materiality. The flowing water that envelops his body does not reflect a romantic unity, but an involvement in “water’s material complexity and imaginative polyphony” (Mentz 2021, p. 193). In this interspecies convergence, whales become more than animals; they become living reflections of Bork’s understanding of life carrying a form of ecological knowledge that human beings have repressed. This ecological knowledge can be specified as an embodied, non-human form of awareness grounded in the whale’s sensitivity to environmental disruption, interdependence, and planetary change. Rather than functioning merely as symbolic figures that reflect human concerns, whales are represented as more-than-human agents whose existence and behavior point to a mode of being embedded within ecological relations. The whales are not represented as individualized characters but rather as a collective presence, emphasizing species-level and planetary significance rather than individual identity. In this way, the novel resonates with the principles of Blue Humanities, which insist that the sea must be understood as a dynamic agent in cultural and ethical formations.

The repeated images of whales and the voice of the whale-man show that the borders between human and non-human are not clear anymore. Aitmatov’s way of describing this intellectual transformation is close to the larger discussions in Blue Humanities, which criticize the anthropocentric idea of humans being above other species. In this sense, Bork’s growing awareness of his link to whales and the sea gives a chance to think again about where humans really belong in the ecological system. As Serenella Iovino and Serpil Oppermann write, “’more-than-human’ materiality is a constant process of a shared becoming that tells us something about the ‘world we inhabit’” and this is “entangled in endless ways” (Iovino and Oppermann 2014, p. 1). This kind of deep connection between humans and non-humans destabilizes the assumed centrality of the human and shows that we need a transformation towards an eco-centric and balanced understanding of life. In the novel, Bork in his dream is not apart from the whales but is one of them. He knows this connection. Even if this whale-man experience happens in his dream world, far from reality, it still reflects a truth that exists also in real life. As is written in the book, “what would befall the whales would also befall him; their fates were intertwined” (Cassandra, p. 16). Even though humans try to stay separate and see themselves as different from nature, this connection always comes back. As David Wallace-Wells says, “the ocean isn’t the other; we are” (Wallace-Wells 2019, p. 78). Their shared destiny becomes a strong reminder that the futures of humans and of other beings are tied together. It shows the importance of collective responsibility in protecting the ecological system. In this sense, Bork’s personal change becomes a symbol in literature for redefining the role of humanity inside the natural world.

Aitmatov expresses this idea of “eternal unity” (Cassandra, p. 136), which tells us that everything in the world is connected, by creating a story where whales become a warning signal for humanity. One of the most important points of criticism in the novel is that the reason why the world is losing its balance is directly related to human actions. Human greed is described as the main cause of disorder and destruction. In the book, this is explained with the words “you cannot change or heal the greedy soul of a human being who desires more space under the sun; as long as this hunger remains, the sun will never be enough for all” (Cassandra, p. 273). This line represents the contradiction between human desires and the limited resources of the Earth. The novel suggests that goodness is rare while evil is widespread, and portrays human-made destruction as the most painful reality for whales, who respond by collectively ending their lives. This mass suicide is not only a tragedy, but also a message, a kind of protest, as it is “against the biological law of self-preservation” (Cassandra, p. 53). This paradox transforms the event into an ecological indictment. Within the broader concerns of Blue Humanities, such oceanic catastrophes invite critical reflection on how literary and artistic narratives help us understand environmental crises in the Anthropocene and their entanglement with questions of justice, ethics, and power. Oppermann asks the following:

In what ways can new literary texts, cultural works, and artistic projects enable us to comprehend the oceanic tragedies in the face of the Anthropocene? How do these tragedies intersect with issues of environmental and social justice and ethics of relations? How can artistic figurations and new narratives of the seas help deconstruct the capitalist, neo-colonialist, and imperialistic practices?

(Oppermann 2023, p. 9)

From this perspective, the collective action of the whales becomes an ethical intervention that exposes the destructive logic of anthropocentric modernity. While non-human beings disobey their instinct in response to ecological collapse, human beings persist in self-destructive behaviors under the illusion of progress. Therefore, the whales’ act functions as a counter-narrative to the anthropocentric thought and exposes that humanity’s limitless consumption is unsustainable. This interpretation also resonates with recent Blue Humanities discussions that understand the ocean not as a passive environment but as an active spatial and ontological force shaping human knowledge and ecological relations (Peters and Steinberg 2019). In this sense, Aitmatov’s whales do not merely represent ecological suffering but become what may be called an oceanic ethical consciousness, through which the novel anticipates Blue Humanities’ attempt to reconsider ecological crisis beyond human-centered frameworks.

In the novel, Bork asks “aren’t all these endless wars, revolutions, uprisings, murders, the ruthlessness of powers, the despotism of ideologies, and doctrines the factors that shatter and fragment people’s lives and destinies, incite hatred among nations, and turn humankind into a greedy creature?” (Cassandra, p. 97). So the novel clearly conveys that it is humans themselves who damage nature, break the order, and empty the meaning of life. These realities are presented in the novel not only as fiction, but as something already happening in the real world like a slow apocalypse. In this context, the reaction of the whales makes us think again about where humans stand and what they are responsible for. As Oppermann explains, changing the way we look at the world and thinking with the ocean helps us understand the more-than-human world and supports the idea of “storied seas,” which “can lead to uncolonizable forms of water knowledge and reconfiguration of human-sea relationships” (Oppermann 2023, p. 35). This change in perspective challenges the anthropocentric stories we are used to hearing and invites us to accept that everything, living or non-living, is connected and has value.

According to William Rueckert, “[i]n ecology, man’s tragic flaw is his anthropocentric […] vision, and his compulsion to conquer, humanize, domesticate, violate, and exploit every natural thing” (Rueckert 1996, p. 113). To this, we may also add the arrogance of humanity, and its blindness about the consequences of its actions—its ignorance and alienation. As we see in the novel, “humans absolutely refuse to accept that they are the source of the evils on Earth” (Cassandra, p. 114). In a world where human-caused harm keeps growing, the responsibility to warn people about this destruction is given to the voice of the oceans. The whales, “like the radars of the cosmos, […] the echoes of the universe,” (Cassandra, p. 195) try to express this truth through their suffering:

Whales, unable to speak, cannot tell us how much pain they endure, how deeply this situation crushes and exhausts them, how it shatters their hearts, and how desperately they seek an outlet, a means of release. […] The whales in the ocean likely confront the thrill of wildfires with stoic resilience, shiver at avalanches that thunder down mountains as if ironing out everything in their path, but they cannot endure the distortions in human behavior—the sadistic and inexorable depths of evil. For them, it is almost unbearable to witness the relentless rise of humanity’s ominous ambitions, the very beings who are meant to be the bearers of the world’s consciousness.

(Cassandra, p. 57)

Rather than merely exposing ethical failure, this passage enlarges the crisis to a planetary scale, presenting human moral collapse as a disturbance within a wider ecological and cosmic order. The image of whales as witnesses to moral corruption emphasizes the growing crisis of human ethics. This unbearable reality reframes ecological suffering as a signal emitted from the more-than-human world, suggesting that planetary systems themselves register and respond to human moral disruption. If nature itself signals distress, how long can humanity continue to ignore its own role in destruction? So the novel suggests that the answer lies in the moral fall of humanity itself:

Do we ever stop to think that the world’s consciousness has been entrusted to us? It seems as if within us, within our very nature, the fractures, collapse, and corruption of morality are emerging; from this moral disintegration, rays of malice and fear radiate into the world, disrupting cosmic justice, destroying the harmony of life. And it is then that the whales can no longer bear it—they swim to the shores, throwing themselves into death, collectively committing suicide.

(Cassandra, p. 57)

With this second passage the crisis is portrayed as a cosmic and planetary condition suggesting that ecological collapse emerges not only from environmental damage but from a deeper disintegration of human moral consciousness. It gives the idea that human pride and loss of moral values do not only harm the planet, but also make people forget their responsibility to protect it. The whales’ collective suicide appears as a very strong image, a final reaction of nature against the endless greed and destruction caused by human actions. The passage reframes ecological collapse as an ethical crisis, demanding a reassessment of human responsibility toward non-human life. These reactions from the whales question the anthropocentric way of thinking that has long seen non-human beings as “passive, inert, unable to convey any independent expression of meaning” (Iovino and Oppermann 2014, p. 2).

The Mark of Cassandra, as a novel, presents the damage caused by anthropocentric ideologies, the human resistance to seeing the effects of this destruction, and the urgent warnings that come from the sea. It is described as “a work of despondence—and not of indulgence—and is probably Aitmatov’s most didactic novel” (Doraiswamy 2005, p. 25). On one side, the novel narrates the story of worsening environmental conditions and the harmful actions of humans. On the other, it can be seen as a call for a fundamental change in the way humans think that moves away from anthropocentrism and toward an ecocentric understanding. This call is made clear in the novel itself: “if the mindset of humanity changes, if humans look at themselves from a different perspective, […] then the likelihood of individuals turning toward negative behaviors will decrease” (Cassandra, p. 182). Such change requires people to become aware of how their actions affect others and the world around them. Without this awareness, the result is already shown in the text: “[t]hough humanity has survived through cunning until now, the time has come for it to say to itself, ‘Either become better, or prepare to join the paleontological layers like the extinct mammoths’.” (Cassandra, p. 162). This warning is not only about responsibility, but also about how fragile human life is inside the wider web of life. From an ethical perspective that recognizes the value of non-human beings, animals should be met with compassion, kindness, and respect (Arıkan 2024). True progress is not about surviving through tricks or control, but about learning how to live with sustainability, justice, and balance.

Throughout the novel, Aitmatov emphasizes that humanity must awaken and gain wisdom. Radical change is necessary if we want to keep the world livable. For this, he suggests a rebellion against socially constructed values and a deep change in how humans see and understand the world. The way the Cassandra embryos react, with fear and empathy, can be read as a challenge to what society accepts as normal. Listening to these warnings would mean a danger for the current anthropocentric system, because it would have to question “everything… from political and social foundations to moral principles” (Cassandra, p. 169). This stands completely opposite to the goals of anthropocentric worldviews. That is why anything that does not support human dominance, whether it is green, blue, or more-than-human, is usually ignored. As Oppermann notes, this kind of view breaks down the anthropocentric story of water and instead supports the idea of “storied seas” and the emotional depth of the ocean (Oppermann 2023, pp. 35–36). In line with this, the novel writes “the whales, these cosmic radars, as always, did not outwardly express what they felt. Like the echoes of the universe, they kept what they perceived hidden within themselves, continuing to swim with the weight of these emotions” (Cassandra, p. 195). The ocean and the whales are aware of what is happening. This awareness becomes part of the larger warning nature gives to the human-centered world. It pushes us to rebuild our connection with empathy and respect.

Chingiz Aitmatov’s The Mark of Cassandra is a strong literary contribution to the Blue Humanities framework. It brings a serious critique against anthropocentrism and its destructive ecological results. By weaving together myth, science, and environmental thought, Aitmatov constructs a narrative that foregrounds the entanglement of human life within broader ecological systems. He uses the ocean not only as a metaphor for consciousness but also as a space of crisis and truth. The central idea, which is the emergence of Cassandra embryos refusing birth because they can sense the future destruction caused by humans, stands as a strong symbol of the Anthropocene, a period defined by human-created crisis. In this context, the novel goes beyond traditional environmental fiction and becomes a direct call for a new way of knowing and acting. At the core of Aitmatov’s story is a strong critique of the Anthropocene itself, which narrates a period where human power acts like a geological force and causes dangerous damage to the Earth. He critiques humanity’s persistent drive to instrumentalize the natural world, exposing the expansionist logic that reduces ecosystems to resources and legitimizes domination in the name of progress. The suicide of the whales is not just a dramatic scene, but a protest, a warning. It shows how land and sea systems are linked and also criticizes anthropocentric thought that has ignored non-human life for too long. In this sense, the novel operates as a philosophical intervention rather than a mere narrative representation of crisis.

Moreover, The Mark of Cassandra makes an important contribution to ecological ethics that goes beyond borders of nations and even beyond species. The novel emphasizes the urgent need for shared responsibility in the face of today’s global ecological problems. Aitmatov’s criticism of the idea that humans are central or superior, and his reaction against the exploitation of nature, reflects very well the current discussions in environmental thinking. The collective suicide of the whales symbolizes a powerful warning that, unless humanity changes its way of thinking, it will risk facing its own extinction. This becomes a very emotional and meaningful image of the fear and anxiety caused by the limits of human control over nature. For this reason, the novel is not only a fictional story of environmental collapse but also a philosophical warning about the ethics of surviving together on this planet. One of the most valuable parts of the novel in terms of ecocriticism is how it refuses the classical idea that puts humans above other life forms. Aitmatov gives the whales a kind of awareness and moral role, which breaks the long-standing belief that only humans can feel, think, or decide. In this way, the natural world is not shown as silent or passive, but as an active subject that helps shape the consciousness of the planet. The whales are described as “cosmic radars,” able to feel the signals of the universe, and they represent a kind of ecological intelligence that human beings, in their arrogance, have failed to listen to. The final message of the novel, which reminds us that humans might disappear like the mammoths if they fail to change, serves as a powerful reminder of how fragile human existence is within the planetary system.

3. Conclusions: Toward an Oceanic Ethical Imagination

By foregrounding the oceanic perspectives at the center of Aitmatov’s narrative, this study seeks to move ecocritical discourse beyond its long-standing attachment to the land and to show how thinking with the ocean reshapes both ethical and epistemological questions. In the novel, the established oppositions such as land and sea, human and non-human, and nature and culture do not remain stable; rather, they begin to blur under the pressure of ecological crisis. Through the recurring presence of whales and the restless force of the ocean, The Mark of Cassandra develops what may be called a blue ecological sensitivity grounded in interdependence and shared vulnerability. Aitmatov does not offer a sentimental environmental message. Instead, he places humanity back inside the very systems it has disturbed, reminding us that responsibility must replace the long-held assumption of human superiority. When the novel is read in relation to today’s ecological uncertainties, it can be seen as a reflection on planetary survival and also as a reminder that humanity needs to reconsider its place in an interconnected world that it cannot fully control. Such a perspective also aligns with recent work in critical ocean studies, which emphasizes how literary and cultural narratives reshape our understanding of the Anthropocene beyond dominant Western frameworks (DeLoughrey 2019). By emphasizing oceanic agency and more-than-human relations, this study also points out that Blue Humanities may gain new perspectives through literary works produced outside dominant Western maritime traditions. In this sense, Aitmatov’s novel broadens the geographical and conceptual horizons of ocean-centered ecocriticism and shows how literary imagination can help rethink ecological responsibility at a planetary level. This study also underscores the importance of expanding Blue and Environmental Humanities beyond Anglophone and Western European contexts, highlighting how Central Asian literature offers alternative ecological imaginaries that challenge dominant frameworks.