The octopus represents Wash’s inability to build a satisfying home for himself, even years after escaping slavery. In Nova Scotia, Wash finds the octopus on a dive for father-daughter biologists Goff and Tanna, and initially the octopus spurts ink because it is afraid of Wash. However, when he holds out his hands openly and gently, the octopus swims directly into his hands. This parallels Wash’s own relationship with Titch: initially he feared Titch, but upon recognizing the man’s gentleness, Wash was able to trust him and even followed Titch wherever he wanted to go—even if that meant taking Wash away from the only home he ever knew.
Then, when Wash is building the aquarium that will house the octopus, he describes it as a place “where people could come to view creatures they believed nightmarish, to understand these animals were in fact beautiful and nothing to fear.” This statement not only applies to the creatures within (like the octopus), but also to Wash himself, whose dark skin and burn scars make him seem nightmarish to other people. And like the creatures in the aquarium, Wash is displaced from his home and becomes something to marvel at, making him feel isolated and like he doesn’t belong.
The parallels between Wash and the octopus continue: as Wash and the Goffs transport the octopus to London from Nova Scotia, the octopus starts to grow ill and turns colorless. In other words, in going from place to place, it loses its vivacity. When Wash looks at the octopus, he sees “not the miraculous animal but his own slow, relentless extinction.” Wash, too, is miraculous, having overcome the hardships of slavery and fully exhibiting his talents in science and art. And yet, his constant displacement—and his inability to make a home for himself—is also slowly killing him.
The Octopus Quotes in Washington Black
The octopus arranged itself in a smatter of algae, its body hanging blackly before me. When I came forward to touch it, it sent out a surge of dark ink. We paused, watching each other, the grey rag of ink hanging between us. Then it shot off through the water, stopping short to radiate like a cloth set afire, its arms unfurling and vibrating. There was something playful in the pause, as if it expected me to ink it back. I held my hands out towards it, gently; the creature hovered in the dark waters, almost totally still. Then, shyly, it began to pulse towards me, stopping just inches away, its small, gelatinous eyes taking me in. Then it swam directly into my hands.
As I stared into the makeshift tank, watching her, a strangeness came over me: I began to feel that everything I put my hand to ended just this way, in ashes. I had been a slave, I had been a fugitive, I had been extravagantly abandoned in the Arctic as though trapped in some strange primal dream, and I had survived it only to let the best of my creations be taken from me, the gallery of aquatic life. And I felt then a sudden urge to reject it, to cast all of this away, as if the great effort it was taking, and the knowledge that it would never in the end be mine, obliterated its worth. I looked at the octopus, and I saw not the miraculous animal but my own slow, relentless extinction.
I felt, in those moments of looking around, ferociously proud—of this strange, exquisite place where people could come to view creatures they believed nightmarish, to understand these animals were in fact beautiful and nothing to fear. But a part of me felt also somehow anguished, ravaged, torn at. For I glimpsed, in each and every display, all my elaborate calculations, my late nights of feverish labour. I saw my hand in everything—in the size and material of the tanks, in the choice of animal specimens, even in the arrangement of the aquatic plants. I had sweated and made gut-wrenching mistakes, and in the end my name would be nowhere. Did it matter? I did not know if it mattered. I understood only that I would have to find a way to make peace with the loss, or I would have to leave the whole enterprise behind and everyone connected with it.
The Octopus Symbol Timeline in Washington Black
