Jaws Euphemism

Distinctly unlike To the Lighthouse, Steven Spielberg’s Jaws portrays the ocean as the dangerous home of a terrifying predator, and entering the sea as a death sentence. Despite the film’s nature as a thriller film, the deaths that occur in the water hold a deeper meaning, and relations to the lives of the deceased. Chrissie Watkins, the first victim, dies drunk, while skinny dipping. The entire sequence, from the nudity to Cassidy’s “I’m coming… I’m coming” exists as a euphemism for sex, and the death of Chrissie punishes her for engaging in such behavior (Jaws). Quint’s death also reveals his true character to the audience, by reducing his life to its simplest truths. Although Quint dies fighting the killer shark, ultimately his death feels

pathetic and uninspired for the storied and seasoned sea captain he claims to be. As such a great captain, with the stories he tells, and with his prior experience with sharks, he puts up less of a fight than Brody, the man scared of the ocean. Quint’s death calls him out for his bluster and tall tales, showing that he simply does not live up to the mythos he creates. Even the shark itself dies in a manner befitting its life. The so called “killer shark” does not simply succumb to its wounds, or die offscreen (Jaws). Instead, he dies in a shower of blood and guts, the elements that characterized all of his appearances throughout the film. Even the fact that he died due to something he was chewing on implies that he caused his own destruction through choosing to terrorize this town. These deaths lay the victims bare, reducing them to the most basic elements of their character, and all comment in some way on the life the character lived. As much as the deaths that occur in the sea have to say about the characters, the two men who pass through their encounter with both the sea and the shark alive face an even greater exposure of their true characters.
Both Martin Brody and Matt Hooper emerge from their experience with the sea and the shark as different men.

“Martin hates the boats. Martin hates water:” Martin’s fear of water is established early, and often crops up during his voyage throughout the film (Jaws). However, by the end of the film, he tells Hooper that he “used to hate the water,” in the past tense (Jaws). Brody confronts his fear through journeying out into the water and fighting off the killer shark. However, such an experience would make most people more afraid. Even Hooper’s response, “Can’t imagine why,” implies a growing dislike of water for him, an oceanographer (Jaws). Brody’s time in the water acts as his rebirth, while Hooper’s does not. Because he was willing to face his fears and get on the boat for the benefit of the town, Brody can be reborn, unafraid. Hooper’s constant complaints about his time on the boat, his selfishness, his general lack of action, all contribute to make him unready for a rebirth. The contrast between Brody and Hooper at the conclusion of the film highlights the importance of a character accepting their situation and being ready for rebirth when they pass through water in literature. Jaws presents connections to both the death and rebirth aspects of water’s symbolism through the various victims and survivors of the shark, presenting a deeper meaning to the classic movie that invented the summer

blockbuster.
Perhaps the greatest example of a character’s change and death in relation to water lies in Kate Chopin’s The Awakening. When first introduced, Edna Pontellier cannot swim at all. At this same time, Edna reacts with shock when she hears “Madame Ratignolle relating to old Monsieur Farival the harrowing story of one of her accouchements,” an announcement of her repression (Chopin 13). However, after her time with Robert in which “a certain light was beginning to dawn dimly within her,” Edna slowly begins to change (Chopin 17). Among all the changes she undergoes, she begins to take lessons on swimming, and eventually ventures out into the sea. When Edna returns to the mainland, the change that has overtaken her becomes readily apparent. Announcing that “‘I am no longer one of Mr. Pontellier’s possessions to dispose of or not. I give myself where I choose,’” Edna rejects the traditional role of women in society entirely (Chopin 117). The experience with Robert during her time on Grand Isle opened her eyes to the possibility of her freedom, and moved her to a place where she was ready for the rebirth of the ocean. When she realizes that “Robert accepts tradition and that he does not truly understand her. He does not realize that she belongs to herself,” however, Edna’s change expands beyond a simple revelation of her repressed desires to an incredible path of self-discovery (Gray 2004). The internal strength that her swim awakened in her has surpassed her simple desire for a romantic partner, and she now knows that “the day would come when he, too, and the thought of him would melt out of her existence,” leaving her lonely once again (Chopin 124). Quickly transitioning from a buttoned up lady to one who pines after a Creole man, Edna now transitions to a truly independent woman. With her new revelation, she now recognizes the true oppression of women in her society. To Edna, only one path exists to escape the restrictions that control her everyday life: death.
Edna’s suicide, while tragic, serves as her final liberation, and the completion of her life journey. When she has recognized her inability to be fulfilled by the men who will not see her as an equal, Edna returns to Grand Isle one last time. Edna swims out into the sea, “the old terror flamed up for an instant,” but she suppresses it (Chopin 125). In her first try at swimming there was “a barrier which her unaided strength would never be able to overcome;” yet she now overcomes it (Chopin 32). At that time, she believed that she could only possess the required strength if a man was there to aid her. She has done no physical training in the interim period. She succeeds in the conclusion of the novel because she has transcended that belief. However, despite her newfound internal strength, the men of her life--even the one that inspired her awakening--cannot respect and see it within her. To them, she “could exist only in a female role of limitation,” and never as the woman she had become (Gray 2004). However, the sea, a “vast space of innumerable waves,” provides a final escape (Gray 2004). By swimming out to her death, and dying in the sea, Edna both proves her independence and strength, as well as symbolically joining a place where her limited role expands to an infinite one. To Edna Pontellier, a death in the sea validates her life choices, and frees her from the oppressive world. It proves, to the world and to Edna herself, that she really did change the way she said she did, that she should have been respected when she decided to live on her own or declare herself a free woman. The two scenes in which she swims out to sea each fulfill one of the symbolic uses of water. The first acts as her rebirth, once she has been awakened to it; the second acts as a reflection of the strength in her now ended life.
Through the combined human experience with water, a dual symbolism of water has emerged.

Water, even in relation to death, has an inescapable connection to life. A massively destructive storm, even one such as the biblical flood, has new life emerge after its conclusion. In good literature at least, characters never simply drown. Drowning, while tragic, leads to some sort of change for a character, or leaves a new meaning of their life to the ones they left behind. Even among the gory deaths of Jaws, the deaths have symbolic meanings beyond that of simple bloodfests. For Edna Pontellier of The Awakening, drowning serves as her only way to escape the miserable, oppressive life she lives. And for the Ramsay family of To the Lighthouse, the water maintains the memory of the departed matron, and helps to complete the character arcs of the remaining family members. Water covers more than seventy percent of the Earth, yet remains largely unexplored and mysterious. Water also holds untold dangers to humans, one of the few environments where they are not the apex predator. At the same time, all life requires water nearly constantly for survival, including human life. As a consequence of these two seemingly oxymoronic connotations of water, it exists as a exceedingly complex and multifaceted symbol in literature. Despite Dr. Foster’s claim, water does not have to be baptism at all. It can be a rebirth, a death, or even just a splash in the face. Only one certainty exists with water:

the character involved should watch out, hold their breath, and hope that they are prepared to accept the tidal wave of change coming their way.