Water is a theme throughout the play: it provides baptisms and purifications and shows how different characters connect to Prospero (and his power on the island). I actually wrote my Tempest paper on this very topic and analyzed the opening scene there too. It’s just such a vivid scene! By washing away the passengers’ pasts and roles, the storm equalizes them and prepares them for life on the island – at Prospero's mercy. This is further shown when, after washing up on shore, they claim that they feel somehow cleansed by the rank stormwater. Gonzalo, especially, repeatedly comments on how clean and fresh his clothes look. The water has renewed them, and they are now starting out fresh, unblemished, and uninitiated – not unlike a baptism.
This process starts at the very beginning of the play in the first scene. The king, Gonzalo, and Antonio interact with the boatswain. With much authority, they demand to know where the master of the ship is, but each in turn is rebuffed by the boatswain and told to “keep below.” As they come from nobility and royalty, they are miffed to be commanded by a commoner. Yet, as Boatswain explains, all aboard the ship have been made equal by the storm. In a time of crisis, all humans involved are ultimately subjected to the same chance of fate. To Gonzalo, the Boatswain says, “What cares these roarers for the name of king?” (1.1.16) Gonzalo resists this notion and tells the boatswain to remember who is on board. The boatswain responds, “None that I more love than myself.” (1.1.20) Though he may be ferrying people of higher status than himself, these are but constructed roles; in the face of the storm, he first wants to save himself. The playing field has been leveled; thus begins their cleansing, and their new life on the island.
My piece presents the moment just before the ship becomes absorbed by the storm. I show Alonso’s crown blowing away in the wind and downward towards the sea, to signify his loss of kinghood away from civilization and in the sea. I wanted to draw the water itself washing it away, but the storm does not wash over them until just after their conversation. I wanted to emphasize the scene where they spoke to each other, right before their baptism, but I still wanted to show the loss of kinghood. So, I altered the scene slightly, and had the sea wind blow the crown down towards the sea. It still counts right? After all, the wind is wet. The four key speakers (Alonso, Boatswain, Gonzalo, and Antonio) are draw identically to further emphasize their equal standing in the storm, each with a black equal sign filled in with a purpleish brownish color adorning his chest. Purple is the European royal color, and brown is a European commoner color; I tried to blend the two to show how the structure collapses and blurs away in the, I suppose, “state of nature.” It’s hard to see this stripe because of my mediocre blending and photo lighting, but if you zoom in, you can see the tiny, alternating lines of inky purple and earthy brown. Each man is also drawn mostly skin-colored to show their natural states (clothes are manmade). Finally, to tie together the themes of “basic nature” and “basic humanity,” I use minimal detail, thick lines, and simple, geometric shapes.
This is not totally relevant, but the scene deeply reminded me of a quote from Six of Crows by Leigh Bargudo (one of my favorite books! I’m actually going to get all of her books signed on my birthday this year because she is holding a meet and greet book signing event in the Bay Area that day! What a happy coincidence): “The water hears and understands, the ice does not forgive.” In the Grishaverse (the universe in which her stories are set), this is a classic idiom in Fjerdan culture. Fjerda is based on Scandinavia. I was slightly inspired by the saying when drawing my piece, so my crashing ocean waves look somewhat like giant spikes of green ice. They really are water, though.
- motch