69 pages • 2 hours read
Caleb Azumah NelsonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This text discusses systemic racism, police violence, and the death of a Black man.
As evidenced by the title, the primary symbol in Open Water is water, particularly swimming in a body of water. Overall, water represents emotion and vulnerability, while oceans particularly represent the possibility of an expansive and open life—alongside the psychological dangers that such a life creates. The water can by turns cleanse, as when the “trauma of trauma [is] washed away by the waves” (38), and destroy, as when the woman ends her relationship with the narrator and he feels that any words “will be drowned by the sound of rushing water” (135). The latter suggests that the narrator is so overwhelmed by his feelings that he can’t speak.
Most often, the metaphor of swimming in water is tied to the narrator’s relationship with his lover. She dares to metaphorically swim in the titular open water, meaning that she is comfortable with the risk of being completely honest with another person. Initially, the symbol is introduced in reference to the two lovers when the woman’s poet friend “sees both the tremble in the water and the sinking stone which caused the ripple” (53), which summarizes the way the narrator and the woman have disturbed each other’s previously separate and calm emotional existences. When the two give into their attraction and finally have sex, the narrator describes it as “swimming with her […] taking large, sure strokes” (95), implying that he feels safe to take an emotional risk in that moment.
After the woman breaks up with the narrator due to his depressive emotional withholding, he eventually wants “to tell her [he is] sorry that [he] wouldn’t let her hold [him] in this open water” (146). This symbolizes his inability to trust that she would support him during a period of extreme emotions and mental collapse. This particular image of holding someone in the water reflects a scene in the film Moonlight, which the narrator explicitly references in Chapter 14. The main character of the film is learning to swim in the ocean with the support of his father figure and the tenderness of this gives the narrator hope.
A central motif in the novel is breath, deployed to illustrate both The Emotional Consequences of Oppression and The Liberating Power of Black Art and Community. The narrator’s ability to feel like he can breathe mirrors his sense of safety and freedom. He reflects on this, noting, “it’s a strange turn of phrase […] being allowed to breathe, having to seek permission for something so natural” (78). This line points at society’s racist view of Black people as property, which forces them to abase themselves in order to be permitted existence. The text’s reference to the scholar Saidiya Hartman underscores that this social framework is the result of the history of slavery.
When both the narrator and his brother are in pain, they “gulp” or “gasp,” and the narrator describes “suffocating in [his] own room” (135). Yet he also “stop[s] breathing” (53) in response to his lover’s intense gaze and finds his “breath robbed” when relating to a play about two Black brothers (54). The narrator also “inhale[s] as deep as it will go” when smoking a joint with Leon (127), pointing at the safety and ease he feels in that interaction. Breath (or its absence) therefore emphasizes moments when the narrator is emotionally affected. He struggles for breath when he experiences oppression but breathes more freely among his Black community.
Music is a frequent element of the narrator’s life in Open Water, serving as a motif that illuminates The Liberating Power of Black Art and Community. The protagonist describes Black music as “some of the greatest expression of Blackness—that ability to capture and portray a rhythm” (99). The majority of his emotional breakthroughs are accompanied by music references, as in Chapter 7 when “the rapper confesses his pain” and forces the narrator to deal with his own (35). He connects with his lover through music, as well as other Black people, including Daniel, with whom he shares a love for Dizzee Rascal.
The narrator also describes the relationship with the woman through the lens of music, making clear that she manifests the liberating power of Black music in a very personal way. At their first real meeting, the lovers split a pair of headphones, and the narrator describes this as “[t]wo people closing a distance made shorter by the trailing wires holding them together” (15). The wires transmit music and music is a force that brings the two people closer. Once they are in a defined romantic relationship, the narrator describes them as “a pair of jazz musicians” and their love as music that they created together (96). This implies that their relationship shares the healing properties of Black art.
This motif suffuses the beginning of the text, representing the relationship between the narrator and his future lover. It appears first in Chapter 2, as Freddie suggests that the narrator not pursue his feelings for his friend Samuel’s girlfriend, but the narrator feels that it is too late as “to give [desire] a voice is to sow a seed, knowing that somehow, someway it will grow” (8). In his dream interaction with his grandmother, she repeats the exact same words. Wrestling with his falsely platonic relationship with the woman while she is still dating Samuel, the narrator thinks, “the seed [he] pushed deep into the ground has blossomed in the wrong season” (19). This motif is emphasized by the narrator associating the woman’s scent with flowers, describing it as “sweet like the torn petal of a flower” (45).
The motif returns in the last third of the book at the peak of the lovers’ relationship. The narrator recalls “the seed [they] planted so long ago grown, the roots clutching in the darkness, pulling each other closer” (110). This image represents how difficult the narrator finds it to separate from his partner.
The narrator equates his own and other Black bodies with books. This symbol offers another representation of the Black experience in a racist society. There is a positive moment early on in the text in which he compares himself and the woman to “two books […] being spread open along the spine” (29) in a moment when they share similar childhood experiences.
However, the bulk of this symbol’s usage is later in the text, revolving around the image of a book folded “in half on its spine to fit into pockets” (122). This represents the way Black people, especially Black men, minimize themselves to avoid notice in a white supremacist system. When the police enter Leon’s barbershop and brutally search the inhabitants, the narrator equates “a knee on a crooked back” with “a book folded in on its spine” (132), showing that this symbol directly reflects the physical shape of a Black body violently restrained by police. In the novel’s most explicit statement that Black boys are dying in Chapter 28, the narrator describes himself as “torn and furled, like they ripped the pages out of your book and crumpled them like wastepaper” (152). The pages symbolize his memories and personality traits, forcibly taken from him by a society that doesn’t value his individuality.