See discussions, stats, and author profiles for this publication at: https://www.researchgate.

net/publication/330870528

The Shape of Water : An Ecopsychological Fairy Tale

Article in Ecopsychology · February 2019

DOI: 10.1089/eco.2018.0064

CITATIONS READS
0 1,019

1 author:

Jennifer Smith
Pacifica Graduate Institute
1 PUBLICATION 0 CITATIONS

SEE PROFILE

All content following this page was uploaded by Jennifer Smith on 15 January 2021.

The user has requested enhancement of the downloaded file.

 The Shape of Water:
An Ecopsychological Fairy Tale
Downloaded by Mary Ann Liebert, Inc., publishers from www.liebertpub.com at 03/23/20. For personal use only.
Jennifer Degnan Smith
Pacifica Graduate Institute, Carpinteria, California.
Abstract
Depth psychology recognizes the role of myth and fairy tales in pro-
viding insight into the unconscious aspects of people and cultures. By
working with these stories, we can often find a path of transformation.
A depth psychological analysis of the film The Shape of Water un-
covers the two suitors that Richard Tarnas recognizes reflect how we
can relate to the world around us. The first suitor assumes that the
world is inferior to people and is exploitable, as it is only valued by
what it provides to man. The second suitor is very different, as she
approaches the world with affection and respect, knowing that it is
at least as intelligent as she is and is intrinsically valuable and
soulful. We find this second suitor in the film’s main character, the
princess Elisa. Through Elisa’s relationship with a mysterious
sea creature, we find a much-needed image for a new myth. She
shows us how we can re-relate to the world around us and trans-
form our current ecological situation. Key Words: Depth psycholo-
gy—Archetypes—Film—Ecopsychology—Fairy tale.
Introduction
D
espite the overwhelming evidence that we are in an envi-
ronmental crisis, there has been little change in human be-
havior. This suggests that we cannot simply approach
solving our ecological problems through logical decision-
making and rational behaviors (Kiehl, 2016). Something deeper is at
play, something powerful and emotional in the cultural depths. We
need to expose these ‘‘fundamental psychological roots,’’ both the
conscious and the unconscious aspects of the collective psyche, to
understand and solve the problem (p. xii).
Along with other disciplines, depth psychology has been working
to excavate these roots by exploring the mystery of the unconscious
DOI: 10.1089/eco.2018.0064 ª MARY ANN LIEBERT, INC.
psyche and its ‘‘powerful mythic structures’’ (Tarnas, 2013, p. 14).
Tarnas removes a lot of soil when he illuminates two contemporary
myths with archetypal patterns that lie deep in the collective psyche.
The first, the myth of progress, is the heroic journey from an ignorant,
primitive world to an intelligent modern world. This myth has been
made possible by the development of human reason and the focus on
the modern mind. It feeds our desire to continually achieve and
conquer new frontiers, including outer space.
The second, the myth of the fall, has gained some steam in recent
years. It compensates for the myth of progress and blames it for the
separation of humans from nature and for the exploitation of nature
and a ‘‘desacralization of the world’’ (Tarnas, 2013, p. 4). Both hu-
mans and nature have suffered as a result of the domination of the
patriarchy and science and technology. Soul is in an unhappy state.
Tarnas (2013) argued that we are currently experiencing these po-
larized myths, both of which hold partial truths. By suffering their op-
position, we will undergo a type of crucifixion in the way we see the
world. This death will provide space for the birth of a new perspective in
which we are not trying to conquer a soulless universe nor are we
regressing to a state of being at the whim of an ensouled world. Instead,
we will be in a position to re-recognize the anima mundi, the world as
ensouled. We will also have the opportunity to become creative par-
ticipants in a ‘‘co-evolutionary unfolding of reality’’ and act as ‘‘an organ
of the universe’s self-revelation’’ (p. 21). As part of this rebirth, we will
have to do our own inner psychological work, including confronting
our shadow and integrating our own inner masculine and feminine.
To begin this transformation, Tarnas (2013) asked us to put our-
selves in the shoes of the beautiful, ensouled universe and imagine
two different suitors approaching us wanting to get to know every-
thing about us, including our deepest secrets. The first suitor assumes
we are lacking intelligence and are somehow inferior. He approaches
‘‘as though you were ultimately there for his exploitation, his
self-enhancement; and his motivation for knowing you is driven
essentially by a desire for prediction and control for his own self-
betterment’’ (p. 20).
 VOL. 11 NO. 1  MARCH 2019 ECOPSYCHOLOGY 43
 DEGNAN SMITH
The second suitor has a very different attitude. He draws near with
curiosity and considers us as at least as intelligent and powerful and
soulful as he is and wants to co-create something new with us. His
approach is based on empathy, aesthetic delight, intellectual curi-
osity, and trust and ‘‘becomes an act of love’’ (Tarnas, 2013, p. 21).
Downloaded by Mary Ann Liebert, Inc., publishers from www.liebertpub.com at 03/23/20. For personal use only.
The filmmaker Guillermo del Toro joins Tarnas in unearthing our
psychological roots when he brings these two suitors to life in his
modern-day fairy-tale film, The Shape of Water (Bull Productions,
2017). This is not the first time that del Toro has explored the depths
and our relationship with nature, which he did beautifully in the
fantastical Pan’s Labyrinth. Depth psychology recognizes how story,
including film, myth, and fairy tales, uncovers the unconscious as-
pects of the collective psyche and incites transformation. Tarnas and
del Toro activate this alchemical process through their two suitors.
Tarnas’s first suitor: Western science and religion
and the disconnection from nature
Tarnas’s first suitor reflects Western society’s mechanistic view of
the world and the belief in human superiority over an inanimate nature.
Tarnas (2013) noted Western civilization’s great cultural and scientific
achievements such as the development of democracy, Shakespeare’s
plays, and landing on the moon. These accomplishments have come at
a cost including ‘‘a subtly growing and seemingly inexorable crisis on
our planet, a crisis of multidimensional complexity: ecological, polit-
ical, social, economic, intellectual, psychological, spiritual’’ (p. 3).
Tarnas (2013) blamed the influence of science and religion on the
West’s worldview, particularly, the work of Francis Bacon and Des-
cartes, who stressed the Cartesian view of dividing the self and the
world into subject and object. As a result, humans strive for dominion
over a perceived inanimate, unintelligent nature. Intellectual knowl-
edge is paramount, and all things are valued solely on what they
provide to man. This view has disenchanted the universe and reduced
our sense of meaning in the world. It has also fueled the drive for
power, profits, materialism, and technology above everything else.
Tarnas (2013) noted that Judaism and Christianity have also
contributed to the schism between humans and nature. God is seen as
separate to a mundane nature, just as soul is distinct from body. The
belief that man is made in the image of God makes humans separate
and superior to nature. Kiehl (2016) also recognized that medieval
Christianity influenced how we perceive nature. As the world was
created by an external maker, God, who then imposed his will upon
us, we ‘‘no longer played a co-creative role in the world’’ (p. 88).
Tarnas (2013) and other scholars also noted that nature has his-
torically been tied to the feminine, and how we treat nature reflects
how we treat the feminine. Bacon created an image of nature as ‘‘a
44 ECOPSYCHOLOGY MARCH 2019
female waiting to be dominated and violated’’ (Fideler, 2014, p. 143).
Merchant (1983) argued that the association of nature to mother and
nurturer leaves nature and the feminine subjugated by the masculine.
Tarnas recognized the need for the feminine to be in a sacred mar-
riage, a hieros gamos, with the masculine, reflecting their equality.
Tarnas’s second suitor: Depth psychology and a new
relationship with nature
Depth psychology has been working to achieve this equality and to
undo the dualism of the Christian and scientific age in order to re-see
the world as ensouled and inseparable to humans. Tarnas (2013)
noted that Jung saw beyond the Cartesian limitations in his work on
synchronicity. Jung (2002) also developed the idea that the earth and
nature contain both spirit and matter in his concepts of the one world,
the unus mundus, and the psychoid.
Tarnas (2013) recognized that Western thinking would consider
the idea of an ensouled world childish. However, he suggested ways
to change this. The first is to expand our ways of knowing beyond
rationality and empiricism to include the imaginal, intuitive, and
kinesthetic. Second, we must listen to and develop a sense of empathy
for the ‘‘other,’’ rather than just consider it an object. Using Barbara
McClintock’s words, he argued that we must create ‘‘a feeling for the
organism’’ (p. 20). Ultimately, we need to move from an I-It to an I-
thou relationship with the world, acknowledging its intelligence and
soul. Tarnas believed we are not just recovering the idea of the anima
mundi, but we are also finding a new way to relate to it.
Depth Psychology, Film, and Fairy Tales
Film is one vehicle for us to do so. Film engages us with the anima
mundi and is a ‘‘tool of the Soul’’ (Gibson, 2005, p. 74). Depth psy-
chology and film are ‘‘siblings’’ as film is ‘‘a medium for awakening,
for conscious provocation and integration of the Soul’’ (p. 72). Gibson
argued that film is an initiatory ritual and highly therapeutic, pro-
viding hope and healing for us individually and collectively. It
communicates our culture’s living myths and acts as a dream for
collective society. Film can show the split between ego and soul,
providing a place for the two to dialogue.
In film, the screen becomes a window through which we experi-
ence the archetypes, the universal patterns that make up the human
psyche (Slater, 2005, p. 3). Slater noted that film is not passive, as it
requires us to descend into the dream realm where we may experience
the shadowy dark. He argued that the film’s chosen images and the
way that the story is told are critical to our experience. They ignite the
imagination and access the archetypal realm, stirring us emotionally
and revealing the numinous. Images are the language of the soul.

Film frequently works to recover the lost child, regaining inno-
cence, not naiveté, often through the help of the Deep Feminine
(Gibson, 2005). Great films also often show us the shadow side of
typical American values, ‘‘films that reveal what societies neglect
strike deeper cords’’ (Slater, 2005, p. 18). Film is a vehicle for cultural
Downloaded by Mary Ann Liebert, Inc., publishers from www.liebertpub.com at 03/23/20. For personal use only.
transformation. As are fairy tales, as they provide the clearest view of
the archetypes. Von Franz (1996) considered fairy tales to be ‘‘the
purest and simplest expression of collective unconscious psychic
processes,’’ as they are not complicated with cultural material (p. 1).
Fairy tales often involve a salvation of the feminine from its mas-
culine suppression.
Thus, del Toro’s choice of genre is particularly provocative. It
accesses the archetypal realm, shows us the shadow side of American
values, and helps us retrieve our innocence. It also emancipates the
feminine. His film provides a sacred space for Tarnas’s two suitors to
engage with the anima mundi, illuminating the collective uncon-
scious psychic processes of the current way our culture views our
relationship with nature. It also provides us with a new myth for
engaging with the world around us.
The Shape of Water: A Fairy Tale
for Troubled Times
In the opening scene, del Toro invites us into a shadowy, dreamy
world as we find ourselves in what appears to be the depths of the
sea but reveals itself to be Elisa’s apartment submerged in water. We
meet Elisa asleep, free-floating, gently in the water. Water is a very
poignant image used throughout the film. When asked about the
title of the film, del Toro said that water is the most powerful ele-
ment, that it is both gentle and flexible, but it can also destroy
anything and everything and ‘‘water is like love, it has no shape’’
(del Toro, 2017).
Water is a critical element in the alchemical process, which depth
psychology recognizes reflects the experience of psychological
transformation. Water is a part of the alchemical solutio procedure in
which the structures of the ego dissolve, providing an opportunity for
something new to be born.
Water is also a symbol of the unconscious, the feminine, and
emotions, and ‘‘is the beginning of life for all species on earth; am-
niotic fluid and the ocean are the vessels for human birth and all
other life forms’’ (Shamas, 2009, p. 94).
The narrator sets the fairy tale scene by telling us that the story
happened a long time ago, in a place far away. It is a story about a
princess without voice and of love and loss, and it is about a monster
who tried to destroy it all. Elisa’s alarm clock awakens her and us out
of the watery depths to her reality in an apartment above the Or-
ª MARY ANN LIEBERT, INC.
THE SHAPE OF WATER
pheum theatre. The film The Story of Ruth is playing below, and we
get a glimpse of the scene where an apparent princess confesses that
she has ‘‘offended the gods’’ and is ‘‘preparing for a ceremony of
sacrifice.’’
Above the theater, Elisa’s daily routine is done in the dark as she
works the night shift cleaning a military research facility with her
best friend, a Black American woman, Zelda Delilah. She begins her
day with a bath, self-pleasure, and a hard-boiled egg carefully timed
with an egg-shaped timer. We also see the large scratches on her
throat from the childhood wound that caused her muteness.
We are immediately met with more water. On the day that the story
begins, Elisa turns over her calendar for her Daily Thought to find
‘‘Time is but a river flowing from our past.’’ Rivers are a theme in the
film, as we also experience the river when we find out that Elisa was
an orphan found alongside a riverbank when she was a baby. Rivers
often represent the flow of our lives, and as there is a set course, they
can also represent the teleological, meaning that something that is
directing our fate.
Von Franz (1996) noted that, in fairy tales, the hero-child is almost
always abandoned and reflects that the ‘‘new God of our time is
always to be found in the ignored and deeply unconscious corner of
the psyche (the birth of Christ in the stable)’’ (p. viii). We find this new
God through Elisa, whose adventure begins one night in Baltimore in
1962 when a mysterious amphibious, manlike creature from a river in
the Amazon is brought into the research facility under top-secret
security. Colonel Strickland, who found the creature, chains it up and
calls it the ‘‘asset.’’ Strickland uses extreme force to try to tame the
creature to learn its secret to existing on water and land. He wants this
knowledge to help the United States win the space race against Russia.
He scoffs at the idea that the Amazonian people gave it sacrifices and
worshipped it as a god.
Elisa becomes fascinated with the creature and sneaks into the area
where they are holding him. She brings him hard-boiled eggs and
plays him music. As neither of them can speak, Elisa facilitates com-
munication by using touch and teaching the creature sign language. A
deep affection slowly grows between the two.
There is only antagonism between Strickland and the creature.
Strickland becomes frustrated as he is unable to learn anything through
domination and violence. In retaliation for the abuse, the creature
wounds Strickland, taking off two of his fingers. Strickland’s boss,
General Hoyt, orders Strickland to kill the asset and dissect it to learn
its secrets. In the meantime, the scientist, Dr. Hoffstetler, who is re-
sponsible for looking after the creature, secretly witnesses the rela-
tionship between Elisa and the creature. Hoffstetler, a Russian spy,
has also been told by his bosses to kill the creature to keep the
 VOL. 11 NO. 1  MARCH 2019 ECOPSYCHOLOGY 45
 DEGNAN SMITH
Americans from learning from it. Hoffstetler pleads with the Amer-
icans and Russians to keep the creature alive, but to no avail.
Elisa becomes aware of Strickland’s plan to kill the creature and
engages her neighbor, Giles, an aging, gay, alcoholic artist, to help
her. The two create an elaborate scheme to rescue the creature. They
Downloaded by Mary Ann Liebert, Inc., publishers from www.liebertpub.com at 03/23/20. For personal use only.
are ultimately successful with the help of Hoffstetler and Zelda. Elisa
keeps the creature in the bathtub in her apartment until the winter
rains bring the canal waters high enough for the creature to get to the
sea. The relationship between Elisa and the creature draws even
closer, resulting in coitus.
In the meantime, General Hoyt berates Strickland for losing the
creature. Strickland argues that he has been very successful for many
years. However, Hoyt tells him that his career is finished if he does not
find the asset. The need to succeed nearly drives Strickland to mad-
ness, and he strives ruthlessly to ‘‘deliver’’ on his mission.
Despite her love for the creature, Elisa knows that she must let him
go, as his health is deteriorating by being stuck in a tub. Her need to
get the creature to the water becomes urgent as Strickland finds out
from a dying Dr. Hoffstetler, wounded by the Russians, that Elisa and
Zelda were involved. Zelda warns Elisa that Strickland is after her.
With the help of Giles, Elisa gets the creature to the edge of the
water and, as they are saying their sad goodbyes, Strickland shoots
both Elisa and the creature dead. Within a few minutes the crea-
ture miraculously self-heals. He then fatally wounds Strickland by
scratching open his throat just as Strickland says, ‘‘You really are a
god.’’ The creature then picks up the lifeless Elisa and jumps into the
water with her. He kisses her, and after a few moments, Elisa comes
back to life with the scars on her neck transforming into gills. The two
appear to swim off together to live happily ever after.
The details in the images that del Toro uses bring Tarnas’s two
suitors to life. Strickland depicts Tarnas’s first suitor and our current
relationship with nature, one of dominance, utility, and abuse. Elisa,
on the other hand, with the help of Zelda, Giles, and Hoffstetler,
provides us with a new paradigm of engaging with the world with
honor and love, one that reflects a restoration of the anima mundi.
Del Toro’s first suitor: Strickland, the Russians,
and the American Government
The time period plays an important backdrop to the film. Tarnas
(2013) argued that we need to make the unconscious conscious,
mainly by looking at our history to ‘‘better understand the underlying
patterns and influences of our collective past’’ and how they influ-
ence today (p. 2). It was the era of the Space Race and a precarious
relationship with Russia, and Tarnas noted that ‘‘Man’s Conquest of
Space’’ is part of the progress myth. The importance of science and
46 ECOPSYCHOLOGY MARCH 2019
technology increased significantly during this time. Del Toro spe-
cifically chose this period for the film as, although it is considered a
time of the Great America, it was full of toxic masculinity and dis-
crimination (del Toro, 2017).
Thus, the film shines a light on the American shadow, including
the negation of nature and the feminine, of anything that was ‘‘other’’
to the patriarchy. Women were suppressed and mostly confined to
traditional roles serving men. In the film, it is the men who are the
scientists. Women clean up after them both in their laboratories and
in their toilets.
Strickland, the American Government, and the Russians portray the
first suitor. Their main concern is how the creature can best serve their
needs, and they very aptly refer to it as the ‘‘asset.’’ When General Hoyt
first sees the creature, he exclaims that ‘‘it is ugly as sin.’’ Strickland
refers to the creature as an ‘‘affront’’ and ‘‘filthy.’’ As he is a ‘‘good’’
Christian man, Strickland tells Elisa and Zelda that there is no way that
the creature could be a god, as only man is made in the Lord’s image.
His words capture Tarnas’s reflections. Strickland believed his role was
to tame the creature, and he tried to do so through force using a
phallic-shaped, electric cattle prod. His behavior reflects the negative
masculine which Kiehl (2016) noted can be ‘‘violent and aggressive’’
and only results in Strickland losing his fingers (p. 65).
Strickland also appears to reflect the thinking style of the Sci-
entific Era. When he cannot get what he needs from the creature
through aggression, he decides to dissect it. The general scientific
approach is to break everything down into individual parts, rather
than focus on the whole. When faced with the stress of losing the
creature, Strickland reads the book, The Power of Positive Thinking.
He approaches the problem through a cognitive, rational approach,
trying to ‘‘think’’ himself to success rather than engage with the heart
or intuition.
Strickland is apparently driven by the myth of progress, including
the negative patriarchal need for success at the expense of all else. We
see this when he buys the idea that he is a ‘‘man of the future’’ and gets
a brand-new Cadillac. Hoyt does not call Strickland by name but
rather calls him ‘‘son.’’ Sons of the patriarchy believe that their only
value lies in being successful.
Unfortunately, neither Strickland nor Hoyt can see the intrinsic
beauty of the creature. Strickland is, as the narrator says, the ‘‘monster
who almost destroyed it all.’’ Through Strickland and his comrades,
we see the shadow side of American culture. We also see the ego in
Strickland, the need to control and dominate, unable to engage with
the soul of nature until the very end when it is too late. Let us hope
that is not how it ends for us. Luckily, the princess of the fairy tale,
Elisa, comes in as the second suitor and heroine.

Del Toro’s second suitor: Elisa, Giles, Zelda, and Dr. Hoffstetler
Elisa teaches us a new way to reclaim and engage with the anima
mundi. Through the childlike Elisa, we recover our lost child and a
more innocent way of perceiving the world. Elisa sees nature’s in-
trinsic value. When Elisa is trying to convince a resistant Giles to help
Downloaded by Mary Ann Liebert, Inc., publishers from www.liebertpub.com at 03/23/20. For personal use only.
her, Giles tells her that the creature ‘‘isn’t even human,’’ and she signs
back ‘‘If we do nothing, then neither are we.’’
Elisa holds the potential for a new way of being, through the
essential death of an old perspective and the birth of a new. We see
this in the images of water around her. We begin and end the film
submerged. We experience the dissolving waters that purify, or
drown, and connect us to the depths of the unconscious. We also find
it in the symbol of the egg that Elisa has each morning and offers as
an olive branch to the creature. Eggs are ‘‘important nature symbols,
signifying earth, new life, or the seat of the soul’’ (Shamas, 2009,
p. 94). Jung (1936/1968) also noted their importance in alchemy, as
the egg holds the potential of the liberated soul.
Elisa’s proximity to the Orpheum Theater is a significant detail, as it
is named after the Greek god of music and poetry, Orpheus. Hillman
(2007) noted that Orpheus was a nature god who appreciated the
ensoulment of the world around him. However, the scientific move-
ment and Christianity drove Orpheus into the shadows. Orpheus is
also the god of music, and it was through music that Elisa built a
relationship with the creature. Fideler (2014) believed that our natures
are woven from music, as music comes from the unconscious.
Orpheus is also ‘‘a phenomenon of the ear’’ (Hillman, 2007, p. 305).
He is about the art of listening which brings new life by recomposing
the ‘‘ordinary in the extraordinary’’ (p. 305). Despite its inability to
speak, Elisa fully ‘‘listens’’ to the creature, which she does through
unspoken, symbolic ways.
Elisa symbolizes the feminine, as she is the princess without voice,
and the feminine is often said to be without a ‘‘voice’’ in our culture. It
is Elisa who leads the way, releasing nature and the feminine from the
suppression of the harmful masculine. Her entourage also symbolizes
the ‘‘other.’’ They are female, Black, gay, and sensitive. Del Toro
created this film to help develop empathy for the ‘‘other’’ and the
‘‘beauty of imperfection’’ (del Toro, 2017). This reclaiming of the
‘‘other’’ is an essential part of moving toward wholeness, both indi-
vidually and collectively. Elisa shows us how to do this through
Tarnas’s (2013) suggestion of using a mutual symbolic and kines-
thetic language to engage with the world with curiosity and love.
Although Elisa has the idea and courage to rescue the creature, she
receives critical help from the healthy masculine. The first person to
help is Giles, the narrator of the story and the driver of the get-away
car. He also assists in taking care of the creature. Giles is an unem-
ª MARY ANN LIEBERT, INC.
THE SHAPE OF WATER
ployed artist who is unsuccessfully trying to make a living by
painting the perfect, heterosexual family for a Jell-O ad. Fideler
(2014) noted that it is often the artists who help the culture connect to
the spiritual realm.
Giles immediately recognizes the godliness of the creature and
accepts the creature’s natural way of being. When the creature eats
Giles’s cat, Pandora, Giles deliberates whether or not the creature is a
god ‘‘Is he a god? I don’t know he ate a cat.’’ This brings up the
paradox that we must accept about nature, as it holds beauty, healing,
and nourishment and it also holds the ability to destroy. Tarnas
(2013) and Kiehl (2016) both noted the need to endure the opposites
in our relationship with nature.
Hoffstetler is also vital to the success of Elisa’s mission. He pro-
vides Elisa with the key to release the creature from its chains and the
necessary chemicals to add to a salted bath to keep him alive. Hoff-
stetler also kills the guard who is blocking their escape. Hoffstetler
holds both the essential scientific knowledge and compassion for the
creature. He is duplicitous not only in his spy role but also in his
approach to nature. Hoffstetler’s views may reflect the idea of bio-
mimicry, which is based on the idea that ‘‘nature is a vast storehouse
of creative intelligence, which we can learn from and apply to solve
our most pressing problems’’ (Fideler, 2014, p. 237).
The focus on salt to keep the creature alive is vital, as salt is critical
in the alchemical process, ‘‘the salt of wisdom’’ (Von Franz, 1996,
p. 129). Von Franz noted that salt holds the bitterness of the sea and
tears. It is a part of sadness and loss. Salt provides great spiritual
power and is also the Eros principle, a life-giving power which
connects us and is ‘‘the wisdom acquired by feeling-experiences’’
(p. 130). Kiehl (2016) noted that to change our relationship with the
world and help save the planet ‘‘We need to bring heart into the
world’’ (p. 10). This is how Elisa engages with the creature, through
the heart, just as Tarnas (2013) recommends.
Alchemical symbolism is also experienced in the sexual union
between Elisa and the creature as the sacred marriage, the hieros
gamos, of the masculine and feminine. The scene takes place in water
as Elisa puts towels under the door and floods the bathroom. The
union may also represent the connection of spirit and matter, which
is what ecopsychology is striving for. Fideler (2014) discussed the
perspective of the ‘‘alchemy of engagement’’ by engaging ‘‘nature as
teacher, nature as partner’’ (p. 245). We are co-creators with nature,
and we are both evolving.
Our relationship with nature needs to be a mutual and loving
relationship, rather than a form of dependency, such as that assumed
with ‘‘mother’’ nature. In the tale, the creature is not feminine; in-
stead, it is the relationship between the masculine and the feminine
 VOL. 11 NO. 1  MARCH 2019 ECOPSYCHOLOGY 47
 DEGNAN SMITH
that is important. This perspective may help to alleviate Merchant’s
(1983) concern that continuing to connect the feminine and nature
results in the domination of both.
The need for sacrifice is also evident in both the film and in our
current ecological crisis. Elisa is willing to let the creature go, which
Downloaded by Mary Ann Liebert, Inc., publishers from www.liebertpub.com at 03/23/20. For personal use only.
is a great sacrifice, as she loves him. The movie that is showing at the
Orpheum theater, The Book of Ruth, is based on the biblical story
about sacrifice and the conflict between monotheistic and polythe-
istic religions. Elisa’s willingness to sacrifice finds her reborn in the
waters of the canal after a kiss from the creature, and her childhood
wounds become her source of breath. In order for us to be reborn, we
need to sacrifice our conscious view of the world, including our egoic
sense of superiority and the need to control, consume, and exploit it.
Conclusion
Through this film of the two suitors, we begin to expose the
psychological roots that are feeding our ecological crisis. The film
provides a stage to experience a psychological transformation in
our relationship with the world around us, including the process of
sacrifice, death, and rebirth.
Del Toro shines the light on the shadow of American culture and
the myth of progress. He reveals how it has split our connection to the
anima mundi, leaving us disoriented. However, the film also provides
us with a new way of engaging with the world as co-creators. Del
Toro’s film allows us to see the ego and the soul in dialogue, through
the actions of Strickland and Elisa.
Kiehl (2016) argued that we currently do not have an image to help
us with the transformation of how we relate to nature. Image is
important as ‘‘images transform consciousness’’ (p. 46). Perhaps the
relationship between Elisa and the creature is the image that we need,
a reminder of the mysterious beauty that the world around us holds.
The creature reassures us that the ‘‘other’’ that we think is scary may
not be so terrible but rather may be ‘‘godlike.’’ We are also reminded
that just as the creature healed itself and others, nature is very re-
silient and can regenerate itself if given a chance (Fideler, 2014, p. 6).
Most importantly, we need to engage with the world through the
heart, aesthetic delight, and love.
Hillman (2007) argued that ecology and environmentalism do not
speak the language required to heal our relationship with the world,
as they speak in statistics and morality. Rather, what is needed is the
‘‘mode of poiesis to enchant the human ear to hear the singing of the
world, ears that have become stone deaf, and human actions that
have become boringly wooden with ecological rationality’’ (p. 303).
Elisa, Tarnas, and del Toro show us how to do just that.
48 ECOPSYCHOLOGY MARCH 2019
View publication stats
Unable to perceive the shape of you, I find you all around me.
Your presence fills my eyes with your love. It humbles my heart,
for you are everywhere. — The Shape of Water
Author Disclosure Statement
The researcher claims no conflicts of interest.
REFERENCES
Bull Productions (Producer). (2017). The Shape of Water [Motion picture]. USA: Fox
Searchlight Pictures.
del Toro, G. (2017, December 10). Empathy for the other: Guillermo del Toro talks
‘The Shape of Water’ [Television broadcast]. In KUTV (Producer). Salt Lake City,
UT: KUTV. Retrieved from https://kutv.com/news/entertainment/empathy-for-
the-other-guillermo-del-toro-talks-the-shape-of-water
Fideler, D. (2014). Restoring the soul of the world: Our living bond with nature’s
intelligence. Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions.
Gibson, T. L. (2005, Spring). Cin-imago dei: Jungian psychology and the images of
the soul in contemporary cinema. Cinema and Psyche: A Journal of Archetype
and Culture, Spring 73, 71–89.
Hillman, J. (2007). Mythic figures. Putnam, CT: Spring Publications, Inc.
Jung, C. G. (1968). Individual dream symbolism in relation to alchemy (R. F. C. Hull,
Trans.). In H. Read et al. (Eds.), The Collected Works of C. G. Jung (Vol. 12, 2nd
ed., pp. 39–224). Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. (Original work
published 1936)
Jung, C. G. (2002). The earth has a soul: the nature writings of C.G. Jung. M. Sabini
(Ed.). Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books.
Kiehl, J. T. (2016). Facing climate change: An integrated path to the future. New
York, NY: Columbia University Press.
Merchant, C. (1983). The death of nature: Women, ecology and the scientific
revolution. San Francisco, CA: Harper Collins.
Shamas, L. (2009). Aphrodite and ecology: The goddess of love as nature archetype.
Ecopsychology, 1, 93–97.
Slater, G. (2005, Spring). Archetypal perspective and American film. Cinema and
Psyche: A Journal of Archetype and Culture, Spring 73, 1–19.
Tarnas, R. (2013). Is the modern psyche undergoing a rite of passage? Retrieved
from Cosmos and Psyche: https://cosmosandpsyche.files.wordpress.com/2013/
05/revision-rite-of-passage.pdf
Von Franz, M. (1996). The interpretation of fairy tales (Rev. ed.). Boston, MA:
Shambhala.
Address correspondence to:
Jennifer Degnan Smith
215 NW 60th Street
Seattle, WA 98107
E-mail: JenWDegnanSmith@gmail.com
Received: July 22, 2018
Accepted: October 28, 2018