Tiger, Tiger, created by Petra Erika Nordlund, tells the story of Ludovica Bonaire who steals her family ship to fulfill her wish of studying sea sponges. Ludovica is the scientifically-curious and adventure-starved heiress to a noble merchant family, and as such she is unable to travel the world to see her beloved sea sponges in the wild. With the very reclunctant aid of her arranged fiancé Jamis Arlesi, Ludovica steals her family’s ship disguised as her own brother Captain Remy Bonaire, who Jamis serves as first mate. During the journey, Ludovica discovers Remy’s diary and whole new side to Remy he has kept to himself.
While pretty much everyone can appreciate and celebrate when characters share that first kiss or first time having sex, some times the most enticing storytelling takes place in the time leading up to those moments. The game and dance that occurs as characters meet and get to know each other can be incredibly enjoyable, especially when it’s filled with endearing and relatable hurdles that really breathe life into the characters. Let’s be honest, the whole genre of romance fiction is based on this narrative principle. In queer stories, this search for love is often accompanied by an additional factor: a character’s sexual orientation. As a result, the classic will-they-won’t-they formula gains the added bonus of are-they-aren’t-they. As the characters keep learning more about each other, the narrative becomes rife with symbols and imagery that serve as clues not only for the characters, but for the reader as well as to whether romance is even a possibility. This creates tension, specifically homoerotic tension, an almost tangible exhilaration of desire for the familiar.
Credit: Petra Erika Nordlund
A three-panel page.
First panel: A close-up of Arno’s hand as he reaches up to a shelf for a bottle of wine.
Second panel: A close-up of a bottle of wine being uncorked.
Third panel: A close-up of Arno’s chest and arm as he pours wine into two glasses he’s holding with the same hand.
Tiger, Tiger overall is charged with homoerotic tension as the story plays with the theme of breaking free from gender roles and expectations. During her time at the 40 Elephants, Ludovica finds herself gravitating more and more towards the women working there; and in the chapter currently under discussion here, during his travels with Jamis, Remy constantly found himself in sexually charged situations. How is this tension communicated to the readers then? One of the benefits of the medium of comics is the ability to capture moments in unique snapshots. This allows for particularly meaningful moments to be placed side-by-side to highlight their collective significance. In the group of panels above, after Remy makes eye contact with Arno for the first time, the panels focus on Arno’s moments. The images put together prove to be incredibly suggestive: the grabbing, the uncorking, the pouring… They all hint to what’s to come. Interestingly enough, even though comics produce no sound, the panels give nothing but sound. The imagery teases the readers’ senses.
Credit: Petra Erika Nordlund
A seven-panel page.
First panel: A close-up of Jamis’s hand tilting Remy’s chin up as the razor is placed against his cheek.
Second panel: A close-up of the razor making its first pass.
Third panel: A close-up of Jamis’s lower face. His goatee almost brushing Remy’s ear.
Fourth panel: A close-up of Remy’s face, his eyes wide open as Jamis’s goatee brushes his ear.
Fifth panel: A shot of a mirror, Jamis’s is wiping the razor on a towel on Remy’s shoulder.
Sixth panel: A close-up of the top-left corner of the mirror, Jamis is focusing on his task, sweating slightly.
Seventh panel: A close-up of Jamis’s face, with soft eyes and mouth slightly open as he looks at Remy (off-panel).
Credit: Petra Erika Nordlund
A three-panel page.
First panel: A close-up of Jamis’s eyes, intensely looking at Remy (off-panel) on the mirror’s reflection.
Second panel: A close-up of Remy’s eyes, slightly blushing and taken aback as he catches Jamis’s gaze.
Third panel: A close-up of Remy’s sweaty face, his eyes shut.
This can be argued to be a form of synesthesia: the perception of one sense through another. In this case, the readers are able to perceive sound through the sense of sight. Synesthesia is what makes the imagery in Tiger, Tiger so powerfully homoerotic, and it’s perfectly exemplified in the shaving scene with Jamis and Remy. The extreme close-ups in the panels are designed for the reader to feel what Remy is feeling in this moment of vulnerability: Jamis’s gentle touch and warm breath, the smooth lather, the cool razor… These images trigger the readers’ sense of touch. Moreover, just as in the first panels, the images also convey their bated breathing and the scrape of the razor, more audible sensations. In the last group of panels, sight is the target. Jamis’s stare is two-fold as he directly looks at Remy in the mirror’s reflection, and at the readers for their voyeurism. At that point, it is understandable why Remy closed his eyes in response: it was an admission of acknowledgement and reciprocity.